Without drawing too much attention to yourself, you take a seat next to Prince Az’Lean as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Fake it til you make it, in a way.
Az’Lean greets you with a dignified nod, and you realise that this is a public occasion and both of you will have to keep up appearances, to a degree. That means you probably shouldn’t get too drunk too early and mind your manners.
“I haven’t had the chance yet to congratulate you, milord,” you say as you wave over a servant to pour you some water, for now. “Happy birthday.”
You raise your goblet, and he returns the gesture with a pleasant smile. “Thank you. Say, might I make a suggestion?”
“Of course. No need to even ask,” you say and take a sip.
“What would you say about addressing each other on a first name basis? At least during one-on-one conversations such as these.”
Surprise rattles you for a moment. “Well, you can address me however you like. I’m not sure I should do the same, though.”
A curious expression flits across Az’Lean’s face before his smile widens ever so slightly. “It would please me if you were to use my name, $playername.”
“If you put it that way, you’re not leaving me much of a choice,” you grumble before lowering your voice, “Az’Lean.”
He beams at you for a split second, before his expression settles back to the pleasant smile he wore before. At the same time, the musicians start playing a lively tune and the conversations all around you pick up in volume and speed as a result.
“While I did say to leave the serious talk for tomorrow, feel free to ask me anything you wish to know. We should get to know each other,” Az’Lean says as he starts piling a bit of food onto his plate. You notice he seems particularly fond of the grilled fish.
Maybe you should ask him something, to get a better idea of what the prince is really like.
[[“That black gauntlet you were wearing during the fight is really something else. What’s the story behind it?”|Chapter2.13A]]
[[“What do you do in your free time? If you ever get any, that is.”|Chapter2.13B]]
[[“Do you enjoy feasts like these? Dancing, drinking, all that?”|Chapter2.13C]]<img src="images/Chap1.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Grahm Territory
!!!Year 918, 13th of the Cherry Moon <<set $chapter to 1>>
Incredibly soft linen sheets envelop you as you fight against the last remnants of your fitful sleep. Once again you have been plagued by a most peculiar dream, and once again it escapes your memory the next morning. It leaves you feeling disoriented and exhausted.
You rub your eyes and shake your head, waiting for the sensation to pass. It strikes you then like a lightning bolt out of the blue – today is an important day, a <i>most</i> important day! Instantly, you are fully awake.
Today, on the 13th of the Cherry Moon, is your tenth birthday.
Your birthday has always been a major event, as far back as you can remember. It is exactly one day after the birthday of Prince Az’Lean, you’ve been told. For a split second, when the clock strikes midnight, it is both of your birthdays at once. You’ve slept through that fateful second this time, of course.
Since you hail from a long line of knights, many consider this a sign that your fate is intertwined with that of the prince, and that you are meant to serve him. Not only as a knight, but as his Champion, his protector, his closest confidant.
Of course, birth date aside, it will not be easy to earn a position like that. You understand that it won’t just be handed to you. But, now that you are finally ten years old, you will be able to start your training. You will be able to become a squire and learn from the kingdom’s finest. You’ve dreamed of this day, in more ways than one.
Whether you should believe in all this talk about destiny, you’re not quite sure. But you want nothing more than to become a knight, just like your father used to be. You cannot, under any circumstances, mess up today's initiation. Everyone's heard the stories of squires being kicked out after less than a day of training, and you refuse to let that happen to you. This is your dream, your calling, your purpose. That, you whole-heartedly believe.
A shout from your mother interrupts your musings.
“Are you up yet, dear? The sun’s already shining and today is your big day!”
You can hear your mother calling you from downstairs. She is right; soft rays of sunlight are dancing through the gap between your curtains, begging you to open them up. The weather outside must be beautiful.
Your mother is still calling you by your first name.
[[You ponder the name she gave you when you were born. (view name suggestions)|Chapter1f]]
<<textbox "$playername" "Your Name">>
"If you don't get up now, you'll be late!"
"Yes, mum, I'm up! Don't worry,” you shout back.
With a mixture of excitement and dread, you crawl out from under your covers. It is a warm, late spring day, and your bare feet patter across the wooden floor as you rush over to your curtains to open them. Sunlight comes flooding into your room and you can see pink and white cherry blossoms on the trees outside.
It takes you a little bit of effort to open the window, as the wood is old and warped with age. Your room is on the upper floor of your manor, right across from the orchard. Fresh morning air fills your lungs as you poke your head out and take a good look at the scenery. If all goes well today, you won't see it again until the winter holidays.
Your chest tightens momentarily, but you cannot discern what exactly you’re feeling. It’s all tangled up inside, a complicated mess of hopes and fears.
As much as you would like to spend a little more time reminiscing and burning every last detail of your room into your mind, you know your mother is already waiting for you. You can't be late today.
Naturally, this means you need to get ready for the day quickly, while also making sure your appearance is proper.
[[You cannot contain your excitement. While you get dressed, you run around, pretending that you are already a knight who is getting ready for an important battle.|Chapter1.1A]]
[[You get dressed as calmly and thoroughly as possible. You cannot risk forgetting something or messing up. Not today.|Chapter1.1B]]Even if it turns out to be nothing, it should only take a few seconds to check. You take a hold of the handle and press it down - it gives immediately and the door opens. There’s no way you forgot to lock your door, so there’s only one thing this can mean.
There’s no point in going for stealth, so you throw open the door to your room as fast as you can, and draw your weapon immediately afterwards.
As you step inside, the only thing that stands out to you is your window being wide open. The curtains are swaying softly, but aside from that there is no other kind of movement. Someone was here, that much you are certain of, but where are they now?
You suppose now that you’re here, you might as well check your room thoroughly. Your heart starts beating in anticipation as you walk further into the room, all senses on high alert. Slowly, you move towards the window, trying to get a look at the outside. It wouldn’t be impossible for someone to hide on a nearby ledge.
As soon as you walk past your bed, you freeze. Something doesn’t feel right. You swear there’s something lingering in the air - a scent, or perhaps the remains of magic. You try not to make it obvious what you are about to do. As seemingly relaxed as possible, you move past the bed, only to turn around and throw yourself onto the floor.
There, in the shadows underneath your bed, a pair of $eyes eyes is barely visible, staring back at you with a hatred so furious that you almost don't recognise your own eyes.
You open your mouth to start asking questions and demanding answers, but the impostor has other plans. They mumble a few words you don’t quite catch, and suddenly you are plunged into absolute darkness. You can’t see a thing, not the floor, not your hands, not the impostor. It is as if all light has been snuffed out, even the sun - clearly this must be some powerful magic.
Sight isn’t the only sense you possess, however. You can hear the impostor breathing and moving around, and you know the layout of your room very well by now. You scramble backwards away from the bed and onto your feet, positioning yourself so that the wall is at your back.
<<if $element == "air">> You hold both of your daggers out in front of you, ready to start slicing away should you hear anything coming closer. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "fire">> You hold your rapier out in front of you, ready to start stabbing away should you hear anything come near you. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You hold your sword and shield out in front of you, ready to block any incoming attacks and strike back. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You hold your spear out in front of you, ready to start stabbing should you hear anything come near you. <<endif>>\
[[Demand to know who they are.|Chapter5.8AAA]]
[[You can’t afford to talk right now, you need to listen.|Chapter5.8AAB]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
“I’d love to stick together,” you say with a good measure of enthusiasm to make sure that Vynn believes you. By the way their smile brightens, you don’t doubt that they understood your sentiment and share it.
An amicable atmosphere settles over you for the rest of your journey. Vynn takes it upon themselves to tell you all there is to know about them. You learn that Vynn is a few months older than you, that they can sing and play the lute, and that their favourite food is apple pie. Critical information going forward, you’re sure of it.
In turn, you offer your own stories about your adventures in Grahm territory. About how you’ve recently learned how to ride a horse and wield a dagger, and about your mother’s many attempts to teach you court etiquette.
Hours spent in friendly conversation pass quickly and the sun has soon reached and passed its highest point. What started out as a glint in the distance has soon become a massive wall that stretches along the horizon before you. You aren’t great at estimating these sorts of things, but you know it is taller than the tallest building you’ve ever seen and so wide that you can barely see the ends of it.
Dozens of gates are dotted along the wall, as well as watch towers and other fortifications. The river runs through a gate similar to the one you passed earlier. Now that you are closer, you can also see that only the top of the wall seems to be coated in metal sheets – much of the base is made from weathered grey stone instead.
The closer you get to the capital, the more boats join you or pass by you, and you can see just as many caravans on the roads beyond the shore. You’re not even in the city, and this is already more people in one location than you have ever seen before. It is overwhelming, to say the least.
You approach more slowly now, your father making sure to steer clear of other boats. Soon, you have entered the wall’s massive shadow and a shiver runs down your spine at the sudden, unexpected cold. And then you’ve made it.
[[“Welcome to Gaitanis,” your father says with a wry smile.|Chapter1.11]]“I guess we could stick together for now,” you say with a large dose of nonchalance. Vynn’s smile stays steady as they nod and you’re unsure whether they saw through you or didn’t care as much as you thought.
A peaceful atmosphere settles over you for the rest of your journey. Vynn takes it upon themselves to tell you all there is to know about them. You learn that Vynn is a few months older than you, that they can sing and play the lute, and that their favourite food is apple pie. Critical information going forward, you’re sure of it.
In turn, you offer your own stories about your adventures in Grahm territory.
About how you’ve recently learned how to ride a horse and wield a dagger, and about your mother’s many attempts to teach you court etiquette.
Hours spent in friendly conversation pass quickly and the sun has soon reached and passed its highest point. What started out as a glint in the distance has soon become a massive wall that stretches along the horizon before you. You aren’t great at estimating these sorts of things, but you know it is taller than the tallest building you’ve ever seen and so wide that you can barely see the ends of it.
Dozens of gates are dotted along the wall, as well as watch towers and other fortifications. The river runs through a gate similar to the one you passed earlier. Now that you are closer, you can also see that only the top of the wall seems to be coated in metal sheets – much of the base is made from weathered grey stone instead.
The closer you get to the capital, the more boats join you or pass you by, and you can see just as many caravans on the roads beyond the shore. You’re not even in the city, and this is already more people in one location than you have ever seen before. It is overwhelming, to say the least.
You approach more slowly now, your father making sure to steer clear of other boats. Soon, you have entered the wall’s massive shadow and a shiver runs down your spine at the sudden, unexpected cold. And then you’ve made it.
[[“Welcome to Gaitanis,” your father says with a wry smile.|Chapter1.11]]“I guess we could stick together for now,” you say neutrally. Vynn’s smile doesn’t waver as they nod, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You don’t know them well enough to tell for sure.
A peaceful atmosphere settles over you for the rest of your journey. Vynn takes it upon themselves to tell you all there is to know about them. You learn that Vynn is a few months older than you, that they can sing and play the lute, and that their favourite food is apple pie. Critical information going forward, you’re sure of it.
In turn, you offer your own stories about your adventures in Grahm territory. About how you’ve recently learned how to ride a horse and wield a dagger, and about your mother’s many attempts to teach you court etiquette.
Hours spent in friendly conversation pass quickly and the sun has soon reached and passed its highest point. What started out as a glint in the distance has soon become a massive wall that stretches along the horizon before you. You aren’t great at estimating these sorts of things, but you know it is taller than the tallest building you’ve ever seen and so wide that you can barely see the ends of it.
Dozens of gates are dotted along the wall, as well as watch towers and other fortifications. The river runs through a gate similar to the one you passed earlier. Now that you are closer, you can also see that only the top of the wall seems to be coated in metal sheets – much of the base is made from weathered grey stone instead.
The closer you get to the capital, the more boats join you or pass you by, and you can see just as many caravans on the roads beyond the shore. You’re not even in the city, and this is already more people in one location than you have ever seen before. It is overwhelming, to say the least.
You approach more slowly now, your father making sure to steer clear of other boats. Soon, you have entered the wall’s massive shadow and a shiver runs down your spine at the sudden, unexpected cold. And then you’ve made it.
[[“Welcome to Gaitanis,” your father says with a wry smile.|Chapter1.11]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5>>\
“I don’t know…” you say with a slight frown. Vynn’s smile falters a little, but they nod, seemingly understanding of your reservations. You get the feeling they are used to this kind of response.
A slightly tense atmosphere settles over you for the rest of your journey. Vynn tries to change the subject and make conversation multiple times. You learn that Vynn is a few months older than you, that they can sing and play the lute, and that their favourite food is apple pie. Critical information going forward, you’re sure of it.
You don’t offer as much information about yourself in return.
Hours spent in conversation pass quickly and the sun has soon reached and passed its highest point. What started out as a glint in the distance has soon become a massive wall that stretches along the horizon before you. You aren’t great at estimating these sorts of things, but you know it is taller than the tallest building you’ve ever seen and so wide that you can barely see the ends of it.
Dozens of gates are dotted along the wall, as well as watch towers and other fortifications. The river runs through a gate similar to the one you passed earlier. Now that you are closer, you can also see that only the top of the wall seems to be coated in metal sheets – much of the base is made from weathered grey stone instead.
The closer you get to the capital, the more boats join you or pass you by, and you can see just as many caravans on the roads beyond the shore. You’re not even in the city, and this is already more people in one location than you have ever seen before. It is overwhelming, to say the least.
You approach more slowly now, your father making sure to steer clear of other boats. Soon, you have entered the wall’s massive shadow and a shiver runs down your spine at the sudden, unexpected cold. And then you’ve made it.
[[“Welcome to Gaitanis,” your father says with a wry smile.|Chapter1.11]]You join a row of other boats, waiting to be inspected at the gate. One by one, they are either let through a rotating set of metal plates into the city, or they are turned away without mercy. It seems to you that the guards are taking their duty very seriously, denying any and all potential threats access to the city. It makes sense, you suppose. After all, the royal family lives within these walls, as well as many other important people.
It doesn’t take all that long until it is your turn. Your father handles everything as you and Vynn gape up at the towering colossus in front of you. Now that you are close enough to touch the walls, a strange, otherworldly feeling washes over you. You know that this piece of architecture is man-made, but the sheer size and intricacy of it boggles your mind. How can humans even cut and lift stones of this size, much less arrange them into such a beautiful and protective barrier? Did they use magic or is architecture simply this advanced? You wouldn’t know.
“All that just to keep out intruders,” Vynn muses. A pensive look crosses their face. “It must be a dangerous world we live in.”
“That’s why knights are needed in the first place,” you say and spare your father a glance. He just finished speaking with the guards and is now carefully manoeuvring your boat through the slowly rotating metal plates. “We’ll have to fight real enemies eventually.”
You wonder for a moment what enemies your father fought. What manner of being left him this… affected, even years later.
Vynn sighs. “I suppose you’re right.”
For a moment, you are enveloped by darkness as your boat floats through the gate, many yards thick. Then, as if the curtain of a play were being lifted, the first glimpses of Gaitanis come into view.
Bathed in golden light as the sun nears the horizon, rows upon rows of timbered houses stretch out in front of you. Cobblestone roads as well as canals snake their way through them, not in carefully laid out grids, but organically. Ornate bridges cross the canals, flowerbeds and lone trees are wedged between stalls and benches. Decorations and clothes lines are hung up high between roofs, bright colours flapping in the wind.
It smells of food – roasted meat and freshly baked bread, fish that isn’t quite fresh anymore and spiced wine – as well as people. Perfume and body odor. A hint of blood. Dung of various animals stuck to the underside of their shoes. Wet dogs and rats.
But what hits you the most is the noise. It is deafening and overwhelming, hundreds of voices speaking at the same time – yelling, laughing, crying out. It is a wonderful cacophony of life like you’ve never heard before, but the sheer amount of it is making your heart race.
“So this is what a big city is like,” you say after a while, still in awe.
Vynn suddenly starts pointing at something behind you. “Look, $playername, the castle!”
Your swivel your head around and are met with the sight of a bright white castle in the middle of the city, towering above everything else. Multiple spires reach high into the sky, deep black shingles are covering the towers and stained glass is sparkling in the windows. Every wall seems to be covered in arches and arrow slits – a bizarre mixture of form and function.
Atop the castle you can spot the crest of Gaiapeia, sown onto a flag large enough to block out the sun: a sword and a scythe, crossed on a background of royal blue.
This is where Prince Az’Lean lives. You know not every knight lives in the castle as well; there are many separate barracks throughout the city. But looking up at it from this angle, a peculiar sensation runs through you.
Try as you might, you can only describe this castle with one word:
[[Home.|Chapter1.12]]You only half pay attention as your father hands your boat over to someone working on the docks inside the city. Instead, you try to handle the onslaught of entirely new sights and sounds as best you can. Before you know it, you’ve left your boat behind and are instead walking through the bustling streets.
Even though you fancy yourself capable enough, you don’t resist when your father takes hold of your hand to guide you. How could you deny such sentimentality when it is the last time you’ll get to experience it for a while?
Sandwiched between your father and Vynn, you make your way deeper into the city.
“Let us get something to eat before we head to the grounds,” your father suggests, eyes carefully scanning your surroundings at all times.
You know that he is looking for threats and while you don’t know the probability of there being one, you copy his behaviour anyway. Vynn, on the other hand, seems content with lazily spacing out.
Even though it seems like food is being sold on every street corner, your father purposefully leads you to the market place in the heart of the city, right beneath the castle. Immediately, you can hear a joyful melody being played on a lute and people are sloppily dancing around an impressive marble fountain in the middle of the market.
“They seem to be having fun,” Vynn says with a grin.
“The last remnants of the prince’s birthday celebration yesterday,” your father adds. You can spot more than a few drunkards milling about and you wonder whether they’ve been awake all throughout the night until now.
You can practically feel their delight in the air around you. “The citizens must adore the prince if his birthday is such a cause for joy.”
“That, or they’re just using it as an excuse to get merry,” Vynn says with a sagely nod. “Can’t blame them.”
Your father barks a laugh. “Now then, kids. What do you want to eat? I’ll get you anything you want. It is your birthday after all $playername, and I wouldn’t want you to feel left out, Vynn.”
Vynn perks up at that. “I want roasted mutton! Oh, and honey cakes!”
You take a look at the many options around you. This will not be an easy decision.
In the end, you settle on:
[[Mushroom pastries and candied apples.|Chapter1.13]]
[[Roasted chicken and a cream custard tart.|Chapter1.13]]
[[Vegetable skewers and rose pudding.|Chapter1.13]]
[[Grilled cod and honey cakes.|Chapter1.13]]
[[Roasted mutton and dried fruit.|Chapter1.13]]With your food in hand, you follow closely behind your father as he leads you even closer to the castle. You walk along its blindingly white outer walls for a while, away from the bustle of the market into a different kind of crowd. As the sun nears the horizon, this year’s squire initiation draws ever closer.
Soon enough you stop outside a large wooden building, its corners fortified and its windows tightly shut. The building is wedged between the castle walls and a large wooden fence that seems to span around a plot of empty land behind it.
“These are the main training grounds,” your father explains while he finishes his last mushroom pastry. “Here, they’ll do some basic tests before holding the official ceremony in the castle courtyard.”
“There’s no turning back now, is there?” Vynn stares at the building with a faraway look.
You’re not sure what you could possibly say to them. Any attempt at comfort would seem disingenuous from you – your blood is thrumming with excitement and joy already and you haven’t even set foot inside.
“At least you’re not alone,” is the only thing you can come up with.
Vynn regards you for a moment, brown eyes impossibly deep. They don’t smile, but they seem a little more at ease as they nod.
“Well then, I suppose I’ll see you at the ceremony. I’m not allowed to watch the testing, as it were. I don’t think you’d want your old man watching you, anyhow.” Your father lays a hand on your shoulder. “I know you’ll make me proud, $playername.”
You can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of your mouth. Warmth spreads through your chest and a strange wave of emotions threatens to overwhelm you – as if you were about to leave a part of you behind with your father as you step onto the grounds. As if you would cease to be the person you are now once you do.
“Of course,” you say while fully meaning it. “Come on then, Vynn. No use in standing around out here.”
“Goodbye Sir Grahm!” You and Vynn both wave at your father as he returns the way you came. Once he has left your field of view, you turn around and face the entrance to the training grounds before you.
“I wonder what my parents would do if I failed and they sent me back home,” Vynn wonders aloud as they grab a hold of the door and slowly push it open.
“Father made it sound like the tests are more of a formality. As a noble, you should have all the makings of a knight.” You step inside, realising that you are standing in some sort of armoury. Weapons, armour, and training dummies are lining the walls.
Vynn sighs dramatically. “With my luck, they might even be impressed by me.”
The armoury seems to be completely empty, but you can hear many voices talking beyond it. With a wildly beating heart you cross the room and open the door on the other side of it. The warm light of the setting sun floods over you as you step outside onto a large, open field.
[[A field full of children your age and, more importantly, shining, armour-clad, valiant knights awaits you.|Chapter1.14]]You take a moment to simply observe and take in your surroundings. It’s a lot.
The field you are standing on consists mostly of dirt and sand with a few patches of grass still surviving inbetween. A tall wooden fence surrounds the entire training grounds, hiding them from view. Only from the looming castle walls can this place be seen and spectated. As you gaze up at one of the windows, you wonder if the prince is maybe looking down at you from there too.
You are not great at estimating, but there seems to be almost thirty kids here. Most of them look a bit older than you but you expected as much. After all, with your tenth birthday being today, you are the youngest anyone here can be. You can’t help but wonder whether that’ll prove to be a disadvantage for you.
Separated from the children some distance away, a group of around a dozen knights, both young and old, has gathered. They are all wearing some kind of armour and weapons. Some are dressed in plate-mail, some in leather armour. Some have great swords and axes, others bows and arrows on their backs.
Immediately you notice that they all hold themselves with a certain confidence and poise. Your father used to look like that too. Idly, you wonder how strong these knights are and what kind of battles they have fought. You suppose you’ll soon find out.
Vynn and you join the other children who are already furiously whispering amongst themselves over what is going to happen next.
“Do you think we’ll have to fight each other?”
“I hope we don’t have to write anything. I just started learning how to read!”
“Those of us who are of noble birth should not have anything to fear, right?”
“Oh, shut up!”
Whispering soon turns into animated discussion and a continuous back-and-forth. A few more children make their way over to the group after your own arrival and it just gets livelier from there.
“I guess we’ll spend a lot of time with these people from now on,” Vynn comments before subtly stepping a bit closer towards you. “I hope-“
They are suddenly cut off by a very loud whistle coming from the group of knights.
“Silence, everyone,” one of the younger knights, a person wearing plate-mail with a greatsword on their back, shouts into the crowd. “We will now begin this year’s initiation of our new squires. Now, since all of you here are around the same age as the prince, his Champion will likely be chosen from among you in a few years. Expectations for you will be high.”
“What they mean to say is that you lot will be judged to death and back,” a man with red hair and a scruffy beard adds before a raised hand silences him instantly.
A middle-aged woman steps forth, immediately instilling order in the rowdy bunch of knights around her. She is clad in freshly polished chainmail, a rapier hanging at her hip and a buckler strapped to her arm. Long, black hair frames her stern face and her grey eyes are cold and calculating.
“My name is Lady Westwale, one of the senior knights here. Pleasure to be meeting all of you. I am very interested to see whether you will turn out to be a group of promising new talent or a waste of our time.” Her voice his clear and carries far, even though she isn’t shouting.
“We will start with some simple questions to get some insight into you. You will have to answer in front of everyone here, one after the other.” Lady Westwale’s cold eyes scan the crowd in front of her. You get the feeling she is evaluating you already. “As such, we will be needing a volunteer to go first.”
You consider her words for a moment. Both volunteering and waiting could be seen as the correct move, depending on what she is judging you on.
[[It would be smarter to observe for now. You remain silent.|Chapter1.15A]]
[[You are not afraid of any questions. “I will go first.”|Chapter1.15B]]You think volunteering might be seen as brave, but it might also be seen as foolish. There is no reason to go first if everyone gets a turn anyway. Besides, there’s no need to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. After all, you are not here to show off.
It takes a few seconds before one girl raises her hand. She is remarkably short and wears her blond hair in pigtails, but her green eyes are frighteningly sharp. “I volunteer.”
A pleased half-smile crosses Lady Westwale’s lips and she motions for the girl to step forward. “Very well. What’s your name?”
“Melinda Shepherd, at your service.”
“You are here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” Melinda answers confidently. At the same time, Vynn seems to stiffen beside you.
Lady Westwale nods approvingly and continues. “Why do you want to become a knight?”
“My family are merchants and our business has seen better days. I hope becoming a knight well help increase our status. I look forward to spending time with a lot of nobles.” Murmurs of surprise and amusement spread quickly through the group of children. With a frown, Melinda crosses her arms defiantly.
“At least she is being honest,” you say. There’s something to be admired in that.
Lady Westwale raises a hand to command silence and continues. “What are the qualities of an ideal knight in your opinion?”
This question seems to stump Melinda for a brief moment as she lets her eyes wander across the knights standing in front of her. “I’d say… bravery and obedience. Compassion and honesty.”
“Now that she’s given that as an answer, how are we supposed to top that?” Vynn whispers to you.
You shrug your shoulders, more interested in seeing Lady Westwale’s reaction. However, she simply nods and gestures for Melinda to return to the group of children.
“Well then, on to the next one. How about… you.” For a moment you think she is looking at you, but by the way Vynn seems to completely freeze over, she must be talking to them.
With a shaky breath and a worried glance back at you, Vynn collects themselves and steps forward.
“My name is Vynn Hollowpeann,” they say immediately before Lady Westwale even gets the chance to ask. Someone in the crowd snickers at that but Lady Westwale seems to appreciate the efficiency.
“Are you here of your own volition?”
Vynn lets out a nervous chuckle. “More or less. I admit that there are places I’d rather be.”
Lady Westwale raises a single eyebrow and Vynn’s chuckle dies in their throat.
“So then, are you prepared to lay your life down for Gaiapeia and its people?”
Vynn stares at her for a moment; their chocolate brown eyes seem to darken even further. After a while, they let out a sigh. “I suppose I must be honest. No, I am not ready to lay down my life.”
Lady Westwale doesn’t seem surprised and simply moves on. “What do you think are the qualities of an ideal knight?”
“Wisdom and knowing what’s right and wrong,” Vynn answers. “And the strength to act on it.”
You can’t help but think that that’s a pretty good answer. With that, Vynn seems to be free to return to your side. Immediately, they slump down next to you and take a seat on the grass.
“My answers were horrible,” they say as they bury their head in their hands.
All things considered, you suppose it could’ve been a lot worse. “I think you did fine. Even if she didn’t like what you said, you were honest and spoke your mind.”
“That is quite right,” you suddenly hear Lady Westwale say and you immediately know that it is directed at you. As her eyes meet yours a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. “Now then, why don’t you go up next?”
You take a deep breath before stepping forward. Feeling Vynn’s eyes on your back gives you a certain measure of reassurance.
“My name is $playername Grahm”, you introduce yourself immediately and offer Lady Westwale a polite half-bow. She returns it in kind, recognition at your name lighting up in her eyes.
“What about you, are you here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” you answer immediately. There is no doubt in your mind that this is where you are meant to be at this exact moment.
A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “What are your reasons for wanting to become a knight?”
You take a second to think about your answer. It has to be truthful, but also well articulated.
[[“My father was a knight. I want to follow in his footsteps to make him proud and carry on the tradition.”|Chapter1.16A]]
[[“I want to serve Gaiapeia and its citizens as best as I can. I want to keep our kingdom safe and peaceful.”|Chapter1.16A]]
[[“I want to help protect the royal family. Their lives are constantly threatened and they need loyal knights by their side.”|Chapter1.16A]]
[[“I wish to fight the fae. They have been getting more and more dangerous and I know I am strong enough to fight back.”|Chapter1.16A]]You think waiting for someone else to go first might be seen as calculating, but it might also be seen as cowardly. There is no reason to wait if everyone gets a turn anyway. Besides, expectations might only rise as more people answer the question. Going first will allow you to remain uninfluenced.
“I will go first,” you proclaim with determination and raise your hand. Vynn looks at you with appreciation and someone behind you whistles admiringly.
A pleased half-smile crosses Lady Westwale’s lips as she motions you to step forward. “Very well. What is your name?”
“$playername Grahm, at your service.”
Recognition at your name lights up in Lady Westwale’s eyes. “And you are here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” you answer immediately. There is no doubt in your mind that this is where you are meant to be at this exact moment.
A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “What are your reasons for wanting to become a knight?”
You take a second to think about your answer. It has to be truthful, but also articulated well. After a few moments of consideration you take a deep breath and say:
[[“My father was a knight. I want to follow in his footsteps to make him proud and carry on the tradition.”|Chapter1.16B]]
[[“I want to serve Gaiapeia and its citizens as best as I can. I want to keep our kingdom safe and peaceful.”|Chapter1.16B]]
[[“I want to help protect the royal family. Their lives are constantly threatened and they need loyal knights by their side.”|Chapter1.16B]]
[[“I wish to fight the fae. They have been getting more and more dangerous and I know I am strong enough to fight back.”|Chapter1.16B]]Lady Westwale tilts her head slightly. “Not a bad reason. That is certainly one important aspect of being a knight.”
You are unsure whether your answer pleased her or not. It does not show on her face at all; all you can see is serene contemplation. Instinctively, you try to mimic her expression. You don’t want to give anything away either.
“On to my last question for you: How would you describe the qualities of an ideal knight?”
You knew this question was coming. Truthfully, your father is the first person that comes to mind when you think of the type of knight you’d admire. But looking at Lady Westwale, you get a very different kind of impression from her. Even though she seems to be a different sort of person than your father, you wonder whether one of them is truly a better knight than the other.
Following that train of thought, what qualities do both of them have in common? What qualities do you want to cultivate in yourself?
In the end, you manage to create a sort of image in your head – stitched together and probably impossible to achieve. Such is the nature of ideals.
“I think an ideal knight would be…”
[[“Tough. Nothing would shake them. They’d be firm in their principles, stalwart in the face of danger, an ever-loyal guardian and shoulder to lean on.”|Chapter1.17Aearth]]
[[“Passionate. They would always give everything they do their all. They would be full of compassion and strive for justice. They would inspire others and lead them.”|Chapter1.17Afire]]
[[“Calm. They would always be in control of the situation and able to keep a clear head. Wisdom would inform their decisions and they would always act rationally.”|Chapter1.17Awater]]
[[“Flexible. They would be whatever the situation needed them to be. Creativity would help them solve any and all problems and they’d always keep an open mind.”|Chapter1.17Aair]]Lady Westwale tilts her head slightly. “Not a bad reason. That is certainly one important aspect of being a knight.”
You are unsure whether your answer pleased her or not. It does not show on her face at all; all you can see is serene contemplation. Instinctively, you try to mimic her expression. You don’t want to give anything away either.
“On to my last question for you: How would you describe the qualities of an ideal knight?”
You’re not surprised at this type of question, but it still stumps you for a second. Truthfully, your father is the first person that comes to mind when you think of the type of knight you’d admire. But looking at Lady Westwale, you get a very different kind of impression from her. Even though she seems to be a different sort of person than your father, you wonder whether one of them is truly a better knight than the other.
Following that train of thought, what qualities do both of them have in common? What qualities do you want to cultivate in yourself?
In the end, you manage to create a sort of image in your head – stitched together and probably impossible to achieve. Such is the nature of ideals.
“I think an ideal knight would be…”
[[“Tough. Nothing would shake them. They’d be firm in their principles, stalwart in the face of danger, an ever-loyal guardian and shoulder to lean on.”|Chapter1.17Bearth]]
[[“Passionate. They would always give everything they do their all. They would be full of compassion and strive for justice. They would inspire others and lead them.”|Chapter1.17Bfire]]
[[“Calm. They would always be in control of the situation and able to keep a clear head. Wisdom would inform their decisions and they would always act rationally.”|Chapter1.17Bwater]]
[[“Flexible. They would be whatever the situation needed them to be. Creativity would help them solve any and all problems and they’d always keep an open mind.”|Chapter1.17Bair]]<<set $element to "air">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. While Lady Westwale remains unreadable, one of the other knights – an elegant man with light blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes – seems to perk up upon hearing your answer.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” Lady Westwale says and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain at ease.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "earth">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. While Lady Westwale remains unreadable, one of the younger knights who had spoken earlier – the person wearing plate-mail with a greatsword on their back – seems to perk up upon hearing your answer.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” Lady Westwale says and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain unshakable.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "fire">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. While Lady Westwale remains unreadable, one of the knights who had spoken earlier – the man with red hair and a scruffy beard – seems to perk up upon hearing your answer.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” Lady Westwale says and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain excited.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "water">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. Something about your answer must have piqued Lady Westwale’s interest, for her impassive face briefly shows hints of surprise and admiration.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” she says with a slight smile and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain collected.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "air">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. While Lady Westwale remains unreadable, one of the other knights – an elegant man with light blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes – seems to perk up upon hearing your answer.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” Lady Westwale says and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
It takes a few seconds before the next person raises her hand. She is remarkably short and wears her blond hair in pigtails, but her green eyes are frighteningly sharp. “I’ll go next.”
Lady Westwale’s nods and waits for the girl to step forward. “Would you tell me your name?”
“Melinda Shepherd, pleased to meet you.”
“You are here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” Melinda answers confidently. At the same time, Vynn seems to stiffen beside you.
Lady Westwale nods approvingly and continues. “Why do you want to become a knight?”
“My family are merchants and our business has seen better days. I hope becoming a knight well help increase our status. I look forward to spending time with a lot of nobles.” Murmurs of surprise and amusement spread quickly through the group of children. With a frown, Melinda crosses her arms defiantly.
“At least she is being honest,” you say. There’s something to be admired in that.
Lady Westwale raises a hand to command silence and continues. “What are the qualities of an ideal knight in your opinion?”
This question seems to confuse Melinda for a brief moment as she lets her eyes wander across the knights standing in front of her. “I’d say… bravery and obedience. Compassion and honesty.”
“Both you and her gave really good answers. How am I supposed to top that?” Vynn whispers to you.
You shrug your shoulders, more interested in seeing Lady Westwale’s reaction. However, she simply nods and gestures for Melinda to return to the group of children.
“Well then, on to the next one. How about… you.” For a moment you’re not sure who she is looking at, but by the way Vynn seems to completely freeze over, she must be talking to them.
With a shaky breath and a worried glance back at you, Vynn collects themselves and steps forward.
“My name is Vynn Hollowpeann,” they say immediately before Lady Westwale even gets the chance to ask. Someone in the crowd snickers at that but Lady Westwale seems to appreciate the efficiency.
“Are you here of your own volition?”
Vynn lets out a nervous chuckle. “More or less. I admit that there are places I’d rather be.”
Lady Westwale raises a single eyebrow and Vynn’s chuckle dies in their throat. “So then, are you prepared to lay your life down for Gaiapeia and its people?”
Vynn stares at her for a moment; their chocolate brown eyes seem to darken even further. After a while, they let out a sigh. “I suppose I must be honest. No, I am not ready to lay down my life.”
Lady Westwale doesn’t seem surprised and simply moves on. “What do you think are the qualities of an ideal knight?”
“Wisdom and knowing what’s right and wrong,” Vynn answers. “And the strength to act on it.”
You can’t help but think that that’s a pretty good answer as well. With that, Vynn seems to be free to return to your side. Immediately, they slump down next to you and take a seat on the grass.
“My answers were horrible,” they say as they bury their head in their hands.
All things considered, you suppose it could’ve been a lot worse. “I think you did fine. Even if she didn’t like what you said, you were honest and spoke your mind.”
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain at ease.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "earth">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. While Lady Westwale remains unreadable, one of the younger knights who had spoken earlier – the person wearing plate-mail with a greatsword on their back – seems to perk up upon hearing your answer.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” Lady Westwale says and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
It takes a few seconds before the next person raises her hand. She is remarkably short and wears her blond hair in pigtails, but her green eyes are frighteningly sharp. “I’ll go next.”
Lady Westwale’s nods and waits for the girl to step forward. “Would you tell me your name?”
“Melinda Shepherd, pleased to meet you.”
“You are here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” Melinda answers confidently. At the same time, Vynn seems to stiffen beside you.
Lady Westwale nods approvingly and continues. “Why do you want to become a knight?”
“My family are merchants and our business has seen better days. I hope becoming a knight well help increase our status. I look forward to spending time with a lot of nobles.” Murmurs of surprise and amusement spread quickly through the group of children. With a frown, Melinda crosses her arms defiantly.
“At least she is being honest,” you say. There’s something to be admired in that.
Lady Westwale raises a hand to command silence and continues. “What are the qualities of an ideal knight in your opinion?”
This question seems to confuse Melinda for a brief moment as she lets her eyes wander across the knights standing in front of her. “I’d say… bravery and obedience. Compassion and honesty.”
“Both you and her gave really good answers. How am I supposed to top that?” Vynn whispers to you.
You shrug your shoulders, more interested in seeing Lady Westwale’s reaction. However, she simply nods and gestures for Melinda to return to the group of children.
“Well then, on to the next one. How about… you.” For a moment you’re not sure who she is looking at, but by the way Vynn seems to completely freeze over, she must be talking to them.
With a shaky breath and a worried glance back at you, Vynn collects themselves and steps forward.
“My name is Vynn Hollowpeann,” they say immediately before Lady Westwale even gets the chance to ask. Someone in the crowd snickers at that but Lady Westwale seems to appreciate the efficiency.
“Are you here of your own volition?”
Vynn lets out a nervous chuckle. “More or less. I admit that there are places I’d rather be.”
Lady Westwale raises a single eyebrow and Vynn’s chuckle dies in their throat. “So then, are you prepared to lay your life down for Gaiapeia and its people?”
Vynn stares at her for a moment; their chocolate brown eyes seem to darken even further. After a while, they let out a sigh. “I suppose I must be honest. No, I am not ready to lay down my life.”
Lady Westwale doesn’t seem surprised and simply moves on. “What do you think are the qualities of an ideal knight?”
“Wisdom and knowing what’s right and wrong,” Vynn answers. “And the strength to act on it.”
You can’t help but think that that’s a pretty good answer as well. With that, Vynn seems to be free to return to your side. Immediately, they slump down next to you and take a seat on the grass.
“My answers were horrible,” they say as they bury their head in their hands.
All things considered, you suppose it could’ve been a lot worse. “I think you did fine. Even if she didn’t like what you said, you were honest and spoke your mind.”
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain unshakable.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "fire">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. While Lady Westwale remains unreadable, one of the knights who had spoken earlier – the man with red hair and a scruffy beard – seems to perk up upon hearing your answer.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” Lady Westwale says and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
It takes a few seconds before the next person raises her hand. She is remarkably short and wears her blond hair in pigtails, but her green eyes are frighteningly sharp. “I’ll go next.”
Lady Westwale’s nods and waits for the girl to step forward. “Would you tell me your name?”
“Melinda Shepherd, pleased to meet you.”
“You are here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” Melinda answers confidently. At the same time, Vynn seems to stiffen beside you.
Lady Westwale nods approvingly and continues. “Why do you want to become a knight?”
“My family are merchants and our business has seen better days. I hope becoming a knight well help increase our status. I look forward to spending time with a lot of nobles.” Murmurs of surprise and amusement spread quickly through the group of children. With a frown, Melinda crosses her arms defiantly.
“At least she is being honest,” you say. There’s something to be admired in that.
Lady Westwale raises a hand to command silence and continues. “What are the qualities of an ideal knight in your opinion?”
This question seems to confuse Melinda for a brief moment as she lets her eyes wander across the knights standing in front of her. “I’d say… bravery and obedience. Compassion and honesty.”
“Both you and her gave really good answers. How am I supposed to top that?” Vynn whispers to you.
You shrug your shoulders, more interested in seeing Lady Westwale’s reaction. However, she simply nods and gestures for Melinda to return to the group of children.
“Well then, on to the next one. How about… you.” For a moment you’re not sure who she is looking at, but by the way Vynn seems to completely freeze over, she must be talking to them.
With a shaky breath and a worried glance back at you, Vynn collects themselves and steps forward.
“My name is Vynn Hollowpeann,” they say immediately before Lady Westwale even gets the chance to ask. Someone in the crowd snickers at that but Lady Westwale seems to appreciate the efficiency.
“Are you here of your own volition?”
Vynn lets out a nervous chuckle. “More or less. I admit that there are places I’d rather be.”
Lady Westwale raises a single eyebrow and Vynn’s chuckle dies in their throat. “So then, are you prepared to lay your life down for Gaiapeia and its people?”
Vynn stares at her for a moment; their chocolate brown eyes seem to darken even further. After a while, they let out a sigh. “I suppose I must be honest. No, I am not ready to lay down my life.”
Lady Westwale doesn’t seem surprised and simply moves on. “What do you think are the qualities of an ideal knight?”
“Wisdom and knowing what’s right and wrong,” Vynn answers. “And the strength to act on it.”
You can’t help but think that that’s a pretty good answer as well. With that, Vynn seems to be free to return to your side. Immediately, they slump down next to you and take a seat on the grass.
“My answers were horrible,” they say as they bury their head in their hands.
All things considered, you suppose it could’ve been a lot worse. “I think you did fine. Even if she didn’t like what you said, you were honest and spoke your mind.”
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain excited.|Chapter18]]<<set $element to "water">>\
You nod your head firmly as you answer. Something about your answer must have piqued Lady Westwale’s interest, for her impassive face briefly shows hints of surprise and admiration.
“Thank you for your answers, $playername,” she says with a slight smile and indicates for you to return to the group.
Overall, you feel like you answered well. Vynn seems to share that opinion, judging by the thumbs-up they give you as you make your way back to them.
It takes a few seconds before the next person raises her hand. She is remarkably short and wears her blond hair in pigtails, but her green eyes are frighteningly sharp. “I’ll go next.”
Lady Westwale’s nods and waits for the girl to step forward. “Would you tell me your name?”
“Melinda Shepherd, pleased to meet you.”
“You are here of your own volition?”
“Yes,” Melinda answers confidently. At the same time, Vynn seems to stiffen beside you.
Lady Westwale nods approvingly and continues. “Why do you want to become a knight?”
“My family are merchants and our business has seen better days. I hope becoming a knight well help increase our status. I look forward to spending time with a lot of nobles.” Murmurs of surprise and amusement spread quickly through the group of children. With a frown, Melinda crosses her arms defiantly.
“At least she is being honest,” you say. There’s something to be admired in that.
Lady Westwale raises a hand to command silence and continues. “What are the qualities of an ideal knight in your opinion?”
This question seems to confuse Melinda for a brief moment as she lets her eyes wander across the knights standing in front of her. “I’d say… bravery and obedience. Compassion and honesty.”
“Both you and her gave really good answers. How am I supposed to top that?” Vynn whispers to you.
You shrug your shoulders, more interested in seeing Lady Westwale’s reaction. However, she simply nods and gestures for Melinda to return to the group of children.
“Well then, on to the next one. How about… you.” For a moment you’re not sure who she is looking at, but by the way Vynn seems to completely freeze over, she must be talking to them.
With a shaky breath and a worried glance back at you, Vynn collects themselves and steps forward.
“My name is Vynn Hollowpeann,” they say immediately before Lady Westwale even gets the chance to ask. Someone in the crowd snickers at that but Lady Westwale seems to appreciate the efficiency.
“Are you here of your own volition?”
Vynn lets out a nervous chuckle. “More or less. I admit that there are places I’d rather be.”
Lady Westwale raises a single eyebrow and Vynn’s chuckle dies in their throat. “So then, are you prepared to lay your life down for Gaiapeia and its people?”
Vynn stares at her for a moment; their chocolate brown eyes seem to darken even further. After a while, they let out a sigh. “I suppose I must be honest. No, I am not ready to lay down my life.”
Lady Westwale doesn’t seem surprised and simply moves on. “What do you think are the qualities of an ideal knight?”
“Wisdom and knowing what’s right and wrong,” Vynn answers. “And the strength to act on it.”
You can’t help but think that that’s a pretty good answer as well. With that, Vynn seems to be free to return to your side. Immediately, they slump down next to you and take a seat on the grass.
“My answers were horrible,” they say as they bury their head in their hands.
All things considered, you suppose it could’ve been a lot worse. “I think you did fine. Even if she didn’t like what you said, you were honest and spoke your mind.”
In a similar fashion, all the other children are questioned as well. Most of them seem to be able to give satisfactory answers. Only a few remarks raise eyebrows, but so far no one has been kicked out yet. While this raises everyone’s spirits somewhat, you can’t help but think that this was just the easy part.
Your assumptions seem to be proven correct as Lady Westwale orders some of the knights to “get the fire ready”, whatever that means.
Vynn doesn’t make any attempt to hide their frown. “Fire? That sounds dangerous.”
“Bring it on, I say!” Melinda, on the other hand, seems eager to proceed with the next phase of this test.
“Danger is inevitable,” you remind Vynn and mentally steel yourself for whatever trial you’ll have to face.
[[You remain collected.|Chapter18]]You decide to take charge of the situation and hope everyone will be onboard with your idea of working together, even if it bends the terms of the assignment somewhat.
“Ready?” Sir Asperame asks while stepping a safe distance away from the braziers. No objections are raised. “Then go ahead!”
Before chaos can break out amongst you, you step forward in a stance that hopefully conveys confidence and loudly clap your hands. “Everyone, listen up!”
Dozens of heads turn towards you and your heart begins fluttering uncomfortably in your chest. You swallow down your anxiety. “It will be more efficient to work together. Everyone to my left, you go for the water. Everyone to my right, you go for the sand. There should be helmets in the armoury for scooping it up. Maybe also some horse blankets for smothering the flames. Those who are capable of performing magic, get started with the braziers furthest away.”
It takes the others a second to process your words and you are met with a few sceptical stares in the meantime.
“Excellent idea!” Vynn chimes in suddenly. “Let’s be orderly and get this done!”
Their support of your idea seems to be enough to get the others to follow suit and everybody gets working. While Vynn stays behind to try extinguishing the flames with magic, you spearhead the trip to the armoury. You manage to find two large helmets that could easily be used as buckets and use them to scoop as much water as you can out of the trough. With multiple people working together, you can always assure that there is enough water or sand to completely put out a fire in one go – no chance for the flame to grow again while you're off getting your next bucket full.
In the end, everything goes more or less smoothly. This group of children is by no means a well-oiled machine, but you manage to put out all the fires without a hitch and in a reasonable amount of time too.
“Nice going, $playername,” Vynn says as they clap you on the back.
“I should thank you for your support as well,” you answer.
They just grin and clap you on the back once more.
You’re not quite sure if this was better than just putting out your own fire, but none of the knights complained and at the very least you were able to demonstrate some leadership skills.
Sir Asperame loudly claps his hands together, a mixture of applause and a signal for silence.
“Well done, everyone, well done. We’ve seen some excellent displays of leadership skills, ingenuity, and magical ability here, I’m impressed. While we discuss your assessment, Chev Minne will take over for me with the next and final test.”
With a bow, Sir Asperame steps back, joining the group of knights. In his stead, another knight steps forth. You recognise them as the younger knight with the greatsword on their back. They are covered from head to toe in plate-mail and their face is completely impassive. Even though their skin is a warm dark brown colour, something about them reminds you of a stone statue.
“I am Chev Minne and have been tasked with administering the final test to you.”
They tuck a stray black curl behind their ear, bored eyes watching you relentlessly.
[[“I hope you do well in high pressure situations.”|Chapter1.20]]You decide to focus on you own fire. It is what Sir Asperame asked of you and no one can fault you for following his instructions.
“Ready?” he asks while crossing his arms in front of his chest. When no objections are raised, he nods and steps a safe distance away from the braziers. “Then go, go, go!”
It doesn’t even take a second for chaos to break out. Everyone starts running in different directions, trying to be fast without stumbling or knocking someone over. Most start looking for containers to scoop sand or water into. You can see Melinda among them.
Vynn, on the other hand, is gazing into their brazier as if in deep thought. Maybe they are trying to use magic?
But none of that matters when you have your own fire to take care of. After a split second of consideration, an idea forms in your head. How would these braziers normally be put out? Not by dousing them with water, certainly. That would be a waste. So then, aren’t there usually lids that can be put on top of them to smother the flames? You look at the shape of the metal – it looks like that, at least.
They must be kept nearby. You can’t imagine the knights would have carried the braziers all this way here from somewhere completely different. No, they are probably stored somewhere nearby, including their lids.
You look around a bit, searching for any such place. Some of the other children have started using buckets and helmets they found in the armoury to scoop up water – not there then. Your attention is drawn to the knights that put up the braziers in the first place. They, Sir Asperame included, stand off to the side and watch the goings-on. Behind them, halfway embedded into the castle wall, is a small shed. It seems no one has bothered going there yet, as it is uncertain whether there is anything in there at all and the presence of the knights is a bit intimidating.
You, however, are not deterred. With singular determination, you sprint off towards the shed, weaving between knights who all tower over you as you go by. You can feel multiple pairs of judging eyes on your back as you reach the shed and yank the door open.
The sight of multiple boxes greets you. They are opened and, just as you expected, they must be where the braziers were stored. Then it stands to reason that…
“Yes!” you exclaim happily as you find a lid in one of the boxes. “Just what I was looking for.”
You grab the metal lid with both hands and heave it out of the box. It is heavy but you manage. Without wasting any time, you leave the shed behind you and return to your brazier. A few knights chuckle as they see you lugging the lid around, but you hold your head up high, proud of your discovery.
Most of the braziers are still lit as you slide the lid on top of yours, slowly smothering the flames. To your surprise, Vynn’s flame is one of the few who has already been put out.
You can’t help but raise an inquisitive eyebrow. “Magic?”
“Just a touch, I’m still only a novice,” Vynn answers nonchalantly but their grin is beaming. “Nice going on finding that lid, by the way.”
At this point, a few others have begun to raid the shed for lids as well, and one by one all flames are snuffed out one way or another. Everyone is successful, though some take longer than others and one kid knocks their brazier over in their haste.
Sir Asperame loudly claps his hands together, a mixture of applause and a signal for silence.
“Well done, everyone, well done. We’ve seen some excellent displays of persistence, magical ability, and quick thinking here, I’m impressed. While we discuss your assessment, Chev Minne will take over for me with the next and final test.”
With a bow, Sir Asperame steps back, joining the group of knights. In his stead, another knight steps forth. You recognise them as the younger knight with the greatsword on their back. They are covered from head to toe in plate mail and their face is completely impassive. Even though their skin is a warm dark brown colour, something about them reminds you of a stone statue.
“I am Chev Minne and have been tasked with administering the final test to you.” They tuck a stray black curl behind their ear, bored eyes watching you relentlessly.
[[“I hope you do well in high pressure situations.”|Chapter1.20]]<<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
Filled with nervous energy, you rush to your basin and start washing your face. You get water everywhere, but it doesn't matter. In your imagination, the dragon will burn down your manor if you don't hurry, and who’ll care about the puddle then?
You get dressed quickly, pretending it is chainmail and leather instead of linen and wool. Though your boots actually are made of leather, you realise. So are your gloves. Those are especially important because of your sensitive skin, is what you’ve been told. Your mother keeps reminding you to put them on, even in the summer, when your hands are overheated and slick with sweat. You can’t help but doubt the necessity.
What good is a knight whose skin itches whenever it touches metal? In your mind, it would be better to build up a resistance to it as soon as possible. At least, you hope that that's how that works. You really don't want to wear these gloves forever.
Next up is trying to fix your $haircolor hair so that it at least doesn't get into your eyes. You consider quickly cutting it with a knife - that's what a knight would do in a pinch, right? - but you figure your mother would get seriously mad at that. Instead, you tuck your knife securely into the sheath at your hip.
[[As nice as a knife is, you’ll get a real weapon today.|Chapter1.2]]Calmly, you start with washing your face. You try not to think too much about the fact that you are leaving your childhood home behind today. Any restlessness you feel disappears with the rhythmic motion of scrubbing your skin and brushing your teeth.
You get dressed one piece at a time. It is still somewhat chilly outside in the early mornings and late evenings, so you make sure to choose not only linen clothing, but a thick woollen vest as well. Of course, the most important items are your leather gloves. You have to wear them to protect your sensitive skin, even in the summer. Your mother insists on it, despite your doubts.
What good is a knight whose skin itches whenever it touches iron? In your opinion, it would be better to build up a resistance to it as soon as possible. At least, you assume that that's how that works. Having to wear these gloves forever seems impractical to you, in any case.
Next up is fixing your $haircolor hair so that it doesn't get into your eyes. It's important to see everything clearly and you think you should probably get a haircut sooner rather than later. In addition, you tuck your knife securely into the sheath at your hip. You've had it for a while now.
[[It has served you well, but you’ll get a real weapon today. |Chapter1.2]]Now that you are fully dressed and ready to face the day, you descend the stairs and head for the dining room. The large wooden doors are already open, and the heavenly scent of freshly baked bread wafts over to you from within.
With increasing hunger, you step into the dining room. It is a large and open space with multiple windows and a waxed hardwood floor. You wouldn't call the interior lavish, by any means, since there are hardly any decorations aside from a few large flowerpots in the corner.
Your family has always cared more about practicality than displaying wealth, and so the furniture is of high quality without looking gaudy. Finely crafted and sturdy, but unassuming.
Even though the table in the centre of the room could easily accommodate up to twelve people, only your mother is seated at it right now. She's wearing an elegant linen robe, light in colour as is suitable for this warm weather. A silver brooch in the shape of an owl is attached to her robe, representing your family’s crest.
"Ah, $playername, there you are. I must wish you a happy birthday," your mother, Lady Dolores Grahm, says with a smile. You notice that it doesn't reach her eyes, but that's nothing new. Your mother has always been a bit distant with you.
She beckons you towards the table and you join her for a hearty breakfast. You wonder when you’ll be able to share another meal with your family again. Months from now? Years? With a start you realise that it may be never. An emotion you can't quite name bubbles up within your chest. It is too vague for your ten-year-old heart to grasp.
"Is father getting the boat ready?" you ask between two bites.
Your mother nods, a teacup held delicately between her $skin hands. "Fortunately, the trip to the capital is not very long." She looks conflicted for a split second. "Say, $playername, will you promise me something?"
You tilt your head in curiosity. "What is it, mum?"
"Becoming a knight is difficult... and dangerous. The capital and the castle are large places, very different from here. Just, promise me you will do what your father and your instructors tell you to. Don’t get yourself into trouble, understand?" She has her eyes trained on you, clearly expecting a certain response.
[["Of course I will!" you proclaim, almost offended by her insinuation that you might misbehave.|Chapter1.3A]]
[["I will do as they say," you promise earnestly. There is no reason for you to get into trouble.|Chapter1.3A]]
[["Of course I will," you lie through your teeth. You can't promise you'll follow orders that don't make sense to you.|Chapter1.3B]]
[["I'll try," you concede with a wince. You do have a tendency of not asking for permission before doing something.|Chapter1.3B]]You all gather around Chev Minne while the braziers are put away. All this running around and carrying things has left you grateful for a chance to catch your breath.
“First of all,” Chev Minne begins, “I will split you up into groups of five. You will be tested one group at a time, but the others are not permitted to watch what's happening in that time. For the first group, I’ll chose you, you, you, you, and you. The rest of you, go wait in the armoury.”
Neither you nor Vynn are part of the first group, so you have no choice but to wait for your turn, for now.
“What do you think we’ll have to do?” Melinda asks while you are all sitting around in the armoury.
“Something that’ll require us to use our head, otherwise they wouldn’t keep it secret,” a posh sounding boy answers with a wave of his hand.
“Maybe the wait is also part of the test,” Vynn speculates.
You raise a curious eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“See if we’re being patient, or if we get nervous,” they answer with a shrug. You wonder if that is indeed part of it – a test of mental fortitude.
After a few minutes, you are able to hear some concerning sounds coming from the grounds outside. Something that sounds like hooves and growling, and the scream of a girl. A shiver runs down your spine as you begin to imagine what could possibly be happening outside.
“Sounds dangerous,” Vynn sighs.
“Danger has to be-“
“Expected, I know, I know,” they interrupt you. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Everything outside goes silent again and the door to the armoury opens. Chev Minne is standing in the doorway, examining you. “Alright then, next group. You five, get moving.”
With a start, you notice that they have pointed at you and Vynn, as well as Melinda, the posh-sounding boy, and another girl with short black curls.
“Let’s get this over with,” Vynn groans as you all get up and head outside.
The knights, as well as the previous group, are sitting down on the side-lines of the training grounds. Uninjured, you note with a hint of relief, though visibly shaken. In the middle of the grounds, right on the grass and dirt, a small wooden pen has been erected. Chev Minne leads you right to it.
“This,” they say with a swooping gesture towards the pen, “is an everboar.”
Your $eyes eyes widen as you spot the creature. It looks like a small boar, though it does not look young. Its tusks are grown out and chipped at the tips. Green moss seems to grow along its back and its hooves are white as snow. Where a pair of black eyes should be, there are deep, empty sockets with only a hint of red light shining from within. It looks completely otherworldly to you, and your first thought is simply: fae.
“It is a magical beast from the fae woods. Some of the smaller fae use them as mounts and they are immortal, hence the name, so don’t worry about hurting it,” Chev Minne explains.
“What do we have to do with it?” Melinda asks.
“I will release it and you will have to capture it again. I will be giving each of you a role to play in this capture and I expect you to treat this like a serious mission. Understood?”
You all nod in unison.
“Good.” They turn to the girl with black hair. “You will stay near the pen and be in charge of closing the gate once the beast is inside.”
Chev Minne picks up two spears from the ground and hands them to Melinda and the posh-sounding boy. “You two will be attempting to herd the beast from behind, using these. You’ll have to be fast on your feet and mind your position at all times.”
Next, they hand a stone to Vynn. A magical rune is carved into it. “You will be using this to activate a ward around the perimeter of the training grounds. Worst case scenario is the beast escaping, after all.”
Vynn visibly gulps as they accept the rune stone – and the responsibility that goes along with it.
[[“And you,” Chev Minne says as they come to a stop in front of you, “will be bait.”|Chapter1.21]]“Bait?” you can’t help but ask.
“Exactly. Here, take this.” They drop a glistening, golden apple into your hands. “Stand in front of the pen and be prepared to jump out of the way at the last second.”
You realise immediately that this is obviously the worst and most dangerous part. There isn’t even much you can do to demonstrate your skill, other than remaining calm. A glance up at Chev Minne’s face reveals nothing of their thought-process, however. Maybe you just got the short end of the stick.
“Line up over there and then I’ll open the gate. Be prepared to move quickly.”
You don’t dare to raise any objections, so you simply try to focus and do as you’re told.
“This can’t be that difficult, right?” Vynn asks with a weary glance towards Chev Minne, who is about to open the pen’s gate.
“We just have to stay calm and communicate,” the girl with black hair answers resolutely.
Melinda huffs and crosses her arms. “Easy for you to say. You only have to close the gate at the end!”
“At least you’re not bait. Sorry for that, $playername.” Vynn shoots you a sympathetic smile.
“Someone has to do it, I guess.” As soon as those words leave your mouth, the gates are opened. With a low grunting noise, Chev Minne shoos the everboar out of its pen before retreating to the side-lines with the other knights.
At first, the everboar doesn’t seem all that bothered. It simply wanders around, burying its snout in the dirt. The black-haired girl uses the opportunity to sneakily position herself near the pen, while Vynn raises the rune stone and begins focusing on it. The soft glow of a protective ward begins to shimmer along the edges of the training grounds. So far, so good.
You hold the golden apple firmly in your hands as you begin moving towards the front of the pen.
“Get behind the boar,” the black-haired girl mouths to Melinda and the posh boy.
As soon as they begin moving, however, the boar seems to become agitated. Does it see the spears they hold as threatening? You assume it is smart enough to recognise a weapon.
Whether you like it or not, it’s time to draw its attention towards you. You stand in front of the open gate and hold the apple out in front of you. You make a few noises as well for good measure, but the everboar seems to have no interest in you. Instead, it is busy growling and squeaking at Melinda.
Is the apple not enough? Maybe the boar can’t see it – after all, it is lacking eyes.
An idea forms in your head and you reach for your knife, glad you brought it with you. Quickly, you cut the apple in half, holding one part in each hand. Thick, slimy juice leaks out of it, suspiciously red in colour. A few drops hit the ground beneath your feet and suddenly, the boar spins around.
Its snout twitches. Once. Twice. An ear-piercing screech rings out and it begins charging, directly towards you. Melinda and the boy move behind it with their spears, but the boar spares them no mind, instead picking up speed. It doesn’t take long for it to outrun them, instead hurtling towards you.
It is insanely fast, and you start to doubt whether you’ll be able to dodge in time. Fear begins to rise up in your chest, suffocating you, strangling you.
[[You remain steadfast and outwardly calm, despite your fear. You cannot give away your intent to dodge, no matter what.|Chapter1.22A]]
[[Forget dodging! Maybe you can try to simply offer the apple pieces to the boar. If you feed it, you might be able to connect with it.|Chapter1.22B]]You remain steadfast. The fear threatening to choke you and the bitter pang of anger at being given this role are locked up tight within your chest, rolled into a ball and placed behind iron walls. You have no time for emotions right now. A deep breath is all you need to relax your muscles, your face the perfect picture of disinterest.
The everboar continues its blind charge and you calmly try to predict the amount of time you have left before it reaches you. Five seconds at most.
Four, three, two, one-
With sudden force you leap out of the way, letting the apple pieces fall to the ground in the process. The beast brushes past you, a tusk scratches you left calf, but you just barely make it out of the way. With a painful thud you hit the ground and quickly roll onto your side. At the same time, you can hear the scraping of the gate and the click of its lock.
With your heart beating wildly and your legs more than a little shaky, you slowly get up and see for yourself that everything went well.
The everboar is secured in the pen, happily munching on the golden apple. A hint of red stains its left tusk, though you are not sure whether its your blood or the apple juice.
You glance at your leg and are relieved to find only a scratch and a torn pant leg. Soon, the other members of your group crowd around you.
“Are you alright?” Vynn asks immediately, concerned brown eyes looking you over.
“For a second there I thought you weren’t going to dodge! You looked like a statue, just standing there,” the black-haired girl says, still leaning against the pen’s gate as if she's afraid it’ll open again.
The posh boy looks a little pale as he regards the everboar. “I’m just glad we managed to do it.”
Chev Minne strides over to you as well, a pleased look on their face – something you assume to be a rare expression.
“Well done,” they say, looking at each of you in turn. Their eyes linger on you. “I’d say getting a scratch is to be expected, though you could have easily dodged a second earlier.”
You nod your head in thanks for the advice, still too rattled to speak properly.
“At least you can rest easy now. This was your last test, so now you can head to the side-lines and get some rest while we examine the remaining groups. I’d recommend tidying yourself up some, as well.” Chev Minne motions to the dirt all over you.
Your heart skips a beat. What reason could there be for getting clean other than the ceremony? You try not to get your hopes up, as this in no way a confirmation that you passed, but you all tension seems to melt off of you regardless.
You’ve done all you could, and you get the feeling you did it well.
[[Or maybe that’s just your adrenaline crashing.|Chapter1.23]]You shift your weight from one foot to the other a few times while trying to figure out what to do. Even if you wanted to, you get the feeling you wouldn’t be able to stand still long enough to dodge out of the way at the last second. You’re simply much too jittery and nervous energy thrums relentlessly within your veins.
As you stare down the approaching beast, a feeling of understanding overcomes you. Being locked up and chased around, poked with spears and taunted with food – it must be aggravating. Maybe, just maybe, the everboar will react positively to being fed and stop rampaging. It would save both you and it a lot of stress.
Even though you are not at all confident it’ll work, you decide to try and build a connection with the animal. Slowly, with a smile on your face and a friendly, relaxed stance, you get down on one knee to be on eye-level with the quickly approaching boar.
As if it were an offering, you hold out the apple pieces in front of you on your flat open palm.
“Come here, I’ve got a treat for you,” you say in the same sing-song type of intonation you’d use with a dog. You do your best to project positive emotions, even though your own heart is racing wildly.
The everboar seems taken aback by your behaviour for a second, the lights in his eye-sockets flickering in confusion. Something in the way you are trying to show kindness, or maybe just the prospect of being fed, makes it slow down. It doesn’t completely stop running, but it’s not a mad dash anymore.
The boar grunts a few times and runs up to you, almost excitedly. It circles around you a few times and you can feel your heart skip a beat whenever it is behind you and you can’t see it anymore.
It’s snout is twitching wildly and it keeps squeaking, before finally butting its head into your hands and trying to get you to drop one of the apple piece. You can’t help but giggle nervously as you slowly shuffle backwards, closer to the open gate. Ever so slowly, you throw the apple pieces one after the other into the pen. They roll around in the dirt for a bit.
The everboar regards you before butting its head into your side again to push you out of the way. One of its tusks scratches your arm as you hurry to get away, but it doesn’t attack you.
Meanwhile, Melinda and the posh boy are standing a safe distance away, spears at the ready should things go south.
However, the boar simply walks back into the pen, seemingly pacified, and begins munching on the cut-up apple. Quickly, the black-haired girl shuts and locks the gate behind it.
You glance at your arm, happy to see only a small scratch and a torn sleeve. That could’ve gone much, much worse. Soon, the other members of your group crowd around you.
“Are you alright?” Vynn asks immediately, concerned brown eyes looking you over.
“For a second there I thought it was going to bite you! Can’t believe it just walked into the pen on its own,” the black-haired girl says, leaning against the pen’s gate as if she’s afraid it’ll open again.
The posh boy looks a little pale as he regards the everboar. “I’m just glad we managed to do it.”
Chev Minne strides over to you as well, a pleased look on their face – something you assume to be a rare expression.
“Well done,” they say, looking at each of you in turn. Their eyes linger on you. “I’d say getting a scratch is to be expected, though you are lucky that this beast is accustomed to being fed. A truly wild one would have attacked.”
You nod your head in thanks for the advice, still too rattled to speak properly.
“At least you can rest easy now. This was your last test, so now you can head to the side-lines and get some rest while we examine the remaining groups. I’d recommend tidying yourself up some, as well.” Chev Minne motions to the dirt all over you.
Your heart skips a beat. What reason could there be for getting clean other than the ceremony? You try not to get your hopes up, as this in no way a confirmation that you passed, but all tension seems to melt off of you regardless.
You’ve done all you could, and you get the feeling you did it well.
[[Or maybe that’s just your adrenaline crashing.|Chapter1.23]]The next hour seems to pass you by in a flash. While the remaining groups are being tested, you take a few minutes of much needed rest before trying to get yourself to look at least somewhat presentable. Vynn hovers around you the entire time, chatting away about the day's events and what’s yet to come.
Soon, sooner than you are ready, perhaps, the knights gather you all in one big group again. You notice that a few children are sitting down, nursing minor wounds or recovering from a bout of panic, but aside from that everybody seems to be doing well.
Lady Westwale has once again taken the reigns of the initiation. She has no problems at all to get everyone to quiet down as she begins to speak.
“I must say, this has been a most promising showing. It seems there are many new recruits among you who harbour a lot of potential and almost no major disappointments. However, there are some of you who will not be allowed to join our ranks as squires today. It is not only a dangerous position, but one that requires all of you – your life, your mind, and most importantly your heart. So, for those of you who have not passed the test, don’t take it badly. We are likely sparing you a life of misery by rejecting you. I am sure there are other prospects out there more suited to you.”
Her tone isn’t gentle, but you can tell that she means it. She doesn’t look down on the children who failed but is merely wishing to guide them onto the right path. One by one, she reads names off of a list alphabetically, followed by a “You passed. Congratulations.” or a “It was a valiant attempt”.
Your name comes up pretty soon. While your heart is beating wildly in your chest, Lady Westwale doesn’t so much as lift her eyes off the scroll.
“$playername Grahm. You passed. Congratulations.”
The ball of fear in your chest explodes into pure bliss. Even though it doesn’t come as much of a surprise, you can’t help but grin wildly at the knowledge that you are indeed going to become a knight. You have everything it takes, and your dream will surely come true.
“I made it!” you whisper excitedly, joining in with the other children who have already gotten their confirmation.
Vynn bumps your shoulder in a silent expression of joy, but their own tongue seems to still be tied with anxiety. They won’t have to sit on hot coals for long. “Vynn Hollowpeann. You passed. Congratulations.”
Contrary to everyone else, Vynn seems to deflate a bit, a look of cold resignation passes over their face.
[[Remain silent. Nothing you could say would be a comfort to Vynn.|Chapter1.24A]]
[[“We’ll be in this together,” you say, a silent promise in your eyes.|Chapter1.24B]]
[[“Maybe you should’ve done badly on purpose,” you suggest with a shrug.|Chapter1.24C]]
[[You wince in sympathy. “I’m sorry you’re in this position, Vynn. Society sucks.”|Chapter1.24D]]You remain silent. Vynn takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm themselves and more or less succeeds. “I guess this is my life now, whether I like it or not. Just have to make the best of it,” they say as the resignation on their face deepens, sinking into their skin and surely their heart.
Lady Westwale continues going down the list one by one. Soon, only those that have passed remain. A group of about twenty, you’d estimate.
“Now then, let me say once more: Congratulations. You all are more than fit to become squires and, in time, our kingdom’s finest knights.” Lady Westwale launches into a long spiel about tradition and honour, sentiments you have heard from your father countless times before already. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t help but zone out some – you are sure the others aren’t faring much better.
Soon enough, however, Lady Westwale finally mentions the long-awaited ceremony.
“We will momentarily make our way to the market place. There, you will be presented mainly to the royal family and the nobility, but since it is a public location, many citizens will be there to have a look at you. You’d best get used to being paraded around in front of crowds.” A look of disdain passes briefly across her face. “Then, each of you will get chosen by a knight who will be your mentor for the years to come. And lastly, you will be gifted a weapon. No more wooden swords and hunting knives for you from here on out.”
A wave of excitement passes through the crowd of children, and you can’t help but hope that no one will lose an eye today with all this eagerness to test out shiny new toys going around.
Lady Westwale raises a hand, and the group falls silent once more. “Once the ceremony has concluded, you will get the chance to say your goodbyes to your families. We will finish the day with a tour of the barracks. Training officially starts tomorrow morning.”
“They’re sure not wasting any time,” Vynn comments with a sigh.
Absentmindedly, your hand finds its way to the brooch on your chest. “Maybe it’s better that way. Less chance to get home-sick if we’re busy.”
Vynn glances at you. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Now then, follow me. Rows of two, if you please.” Lady Westwale takes the front of your little parade and the other knights hang back as you all fall in line. Vynn has naturally taken their place to your left and you get the feeling you’ll get used to their continued presence very soon. Already it feels like you’ve known them for weeks when it’s been a few hours at most.
With something vaguely resembling a march, you all make your way back through the armoury and into the city. Lady Westwale doesn’t have to do much to get the people on the streets to make way for you, her presence seems to command respect all on its own.
With every step you take, you can feel something thrumming in your veins. A strangely electric sensation, like an oncoming storm. Is it anxiety? Excitement? Foreboding?
You cannot tell. It is a feeling most intoxicating. Like finally getting a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside. Like stretching after a long, deep sleep.
It all makes sense when you see…
[[…him.|Chapter1.25]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
You’ve only known Vynn for a day, but you already feel a certain sense of comradery with them. Even if they are forced into a profession they don’t like, at least you can make sure they’re not alone.
A wobbly smile appears on Vynn’s face. “Thank you, $playername. It means a lot.” You notice that they move a bit closer towards you.
Lady Westwale continues going down the list one by one. Soon, only those that have passed remain. A group of about twenty, you’d estimate.
“Now then, let me say once more: Congratulations. You all are more than fit to become squires and, in time, our kingdom’s finest knights.” Lady Westwale launches into a long spiel about tradition and honour, sentiments you have heard from your father countless times before already. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t help but zone out some – you are sure the others aren’t faring much better.
Soon enough, however, Lady Westwale finally mentions the long-awaited ceremony.
“We will momentarily make our way to the market place. There, you will be presented mainly to the royal family and the nobility, but since it is a public location, many citizens will be there to have a look at you. You’d best get used to being paraded around in front of crowds.” A look of disdain passes briefly across her face. “Then, each of you will get chosen by a knight who will be your mentor for the years to come. And lastly, you will be gifted a weapon. No more wooden swords and hunting knives for you from here on out.”
A wave of excitement passes through the crowd of children, and you can’t help but hope that no one will lose an eye today with all this eagerness to test out shiny new toys going around.
Lady Westwale raises a hand, and the group falls silent once more. “Once the ceremony has concluded, you will get the chance to say your goodbyes to your families. We will finish the day with a tour of the barracks. Training officially starts tomorrow morning.”
“They’re sure not wasting any time,” Vynn comments with a sigh.
Absentmindedly, your hand finds its way to the brooch on your chest. “Maybe it’s better that way. Less chance to get home-sick if we’re busy.”
Vynn glances at you. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Now then, follow me. Rows of two, if you please.” Lady Westwale takes the front of your little parade and the other knights hang back as you all fall in line. Vynn has naturally taken their place to your left and you get the feeling you’ll get used to their continued presence very soon. Already it feels like you’ve known them for weeks when it’s been a few hours at most.
With something vaguely resembling a march, you all make your way back through the armoury and into the city. Lady Westwale doesn’t have to do much to get the people on the streets to make way for you, her presence seems to command respect all on its own.
With every step you take, you can feel something thrumming in your veins. A strangely electric sensation, like an oncoming storm. Is it anxiety? Excitement? Foreboding?
You cannot tell. It is a feeling most intoxicating. Like finally getting a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside. Like stretching after a long, deep sleep.
It all makes sense when you see…
[[…him.|Chapter1.25]]Vynn sighs and shakes their head. “That wouldn’t have changed anything. My parents will just ship me off to the clergy if this doesn’t work out. Or worse. I’ll just have to come to terms with my situation.” The resignation on their face deepens, sinking into their skin and surely their heart.
Lady Westwale continues going down the list one by one. Soon, only those that have passed remain. A group of about twenty, you’d estimate.
“Now then, let me say once more: Congratulations. You all are more than fit to become squires and, in time, our kingdom’s finest knights.” Lady Westwale launches into a long spiel about tradition and honour, sentiments you have heard from your father countless times before already. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t help but zone out some – you are sure the others aren’t faring much better.
Soon enough, however, Lady Westwale finally mentions the long-awaited ceremony.
“We will momentarily make our way to the market place. There, you will be presented mainly to the royal family and the nobility, but since it is a public location, many citizens will be there to have a look at you. You’d best get used to being paraded around in front of crowds.” A look of disdain passes briefly across her face. “Then, each of you will get chosen by a knight who will be your mentor for the years to come. And lastly, you will be gifted a weapon. No more wooden swords and hunting knives for you from here on out.”
A wave of excitement passes through the crowd of children, and you can’t help but hope that no one will lose an eye today with all this eagerness to test out shiny new toys going around.
Lady Westwale raises a hand, and the group falls silent once more. “Once the ceremony has concluded, you will get the chance to say your goodbyes to your families. We will finish the day with a tour of the barracks. Training officially starts tomorrow morning.”
“They’re sure not wasting any time,” Vynn comments with a sigh.
Absentmindedly, your hand finds its way to the brooch on your chest. “Maybe it’s better that way. Less chance to get home-sick if we’re busy.”
Vynn glances at you. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Now then, follow me. Rows of two, if you please.” Lady Westwale takes the front of your little parade and the other knights hang back as you all fall in line. Vynn has naturally taken their place to your left and you get the feeling you’ll get used to their continued presence very soon. Already it feels like you’ve known them for weeks when it’s been a few hours at most.
With something vaguely resembling a march, you all make your way back through the armoury and into the city. Lady Westwale doesn’t have to do much to get the people on the streets to make way for you, her presence seems to command respect all on its own.
With every step you take, you can feel something thrumming in your veins. A strangely electric sensation, like an oncoming storm. Is it anxiety? Excitement? Foreboding?
You cannot tell. It is a feeling most intoxicating. Like finally getting a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside. Like stretching after a long, deep sleep.
It all makes sense when you see…
[[…him.|Chapter1.25]]Vynn laughs, though it sounds somewhat subdued. “That it does, $playername. That it does. Though who knows, I might get an in with the prince and things might change to my benefit.”
You’re not sure if they are alluding to becoming the prince’s Champion, his friend, or his future spouse, so you simply laugh along with Vynn. At least that seems to have cheered them up some.
Lady Westwale continues going down the list one by one. Soon, only those that have passed remain. A group of about twenty, you’d estimate.
“Now then, let me say once more: Congratulations. You all are more than fit to become squires and, in time, our kingdom’s finest knights.” Lady Westwale launches into a long spiel about tradition and honour, sentiments you have heard from your father countless times before already. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t help but zone out some – you are sure the others aren’t faring much better.
Soon enough, however, Lady Westwale finally mentions the long-awaited ceremony.
“We will momentarily make our way to the market place. There, you will be presented mainly to the royal family and the nobility, but since it is a public location, many citizens will be there to have a look at you. You’d best get used to being paraded around in front of crowds.” A look of disdain passes briefly across her face. “Then, each of you will get chosen by a knight who will be your mentor for the years to come. And lastly, you will be gifted a weapon. No more wooden swords and hunting knives for you from here on out.”
A wave of excitement passes through the crowd of children, and you can’t help but hope that no one will lose an eye today with all this eagerness to test out shiny new toys going around.
Lady Westwale raises a hand, and the group falls silent once more. “Once the ceremony has concluded, you will get the chance to say your goodbyes to your families. We will finish the day with a tour of the barracks. Training officially starts tomorrow morning.”
“They’re sure not wasting any time,” Vynn comments with a sigh.
Absentmindedly, your hand finds its way to the brooch on your chest. “Maybe it’s better that way. Less chance to get home-sick if we’re busy.”
Vynn glances at you. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Now then, follow me. Rows of two, if you please.” Lady Westwale takes the front of your little parade and the other knights hang back as you all fall in line. Vynn has naturally taken their place to your left and you get the feeling you’ll get used to their continued presence very soon. Already it feels like you’ve known them for weeks when it’s been a few hours at most.
With something vaguely resembling a march, you all make your way back through the armoury and into the city. Lady Westwale doesn’t have to do much to get the people on the streets to make way for you, her presence seems to command respect all on its own.
With every step you take, you can feel something thrumming in your veins. A strangely electric sensation, like an oncoming storm. Is it anxiety? Excitement? Foreboding?
You cannot tell. It is a feeling most intoxicating. Like finally getting a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside. Like stretching after a long, deep sleep.
It all makes sense when you see…
[[…him.|Chapter1.25]]As you step onto the market place, the first thing you notice isn’t the crowd of onlookers around you. It isn’t the decorations, or the trumpets, or the intermixing of foreign smells. It isn’t your father, standing with the other nobles, happily waving at you. It isn’t the comments Vynn keeps whispering to you.
The first thing you notice, as if your eyes are drawn in a certain direction by some kind of strange magic, is the prince – Az’Lean Gaiapeia.
He is a boy your age, exactly one day older than you, as you know. Fair skin and rosy cheeks, soft features, neither tall nor short for his age, and waves of golden hair that reach just above his shoulders. But the thing that strikes you are his eyes. They are blue, but unlike any other kind of blue eyes you have ever seen before. They look like pieces of the sky, broken into dangerous shards and embedded within his skull. The tunic he wears is of the same colour, stitched with golden thread, but it is pale and washed out by comparison.
You can immediately tell that those eyes are dangerous. In what way you aren’t sure, but they’re sending shivers down your spine.
Az’Lean is staring directly at you, as well.
He is standing on some kind of podium with his parents, King Az’Marn Gaiapeia and Queen Leanna Gaiapeia. They are both dressed in exquisite finery, though you are somewhat disappointed by the lack of crowns. King Az’Marn looks like a gentle person, with his honey-coloured eyes and long, soft looking beard. Queen Leanna, on the other hand, looks strict and humourless. Tall and thin, all edges and pale skin.
The strange spell that seems to compel you to look at Az’Lean is broken when you bump into the boy in front of you. You have arrived at the centre of the market place, and the trumpets and shouting around you quiets down as you all come to a halt.
Lady Westwale steps forth and bows. “I present to you: this year’s new squires!”
You are received with applause and another round of trumpet fanfare. Silence only falls again when King Gaiapeia raises his hands.
“What a beautiful sight to behold. A new generation of capable knights who will surely protect the shining future of our kingdom.” His mighty voice booms across the marketplace and you are stunned silent in awe. “I must thank each and every one of you for the devotion and the love you harbour for our home. It doesn’t matter whether you are of noble birth or not, from this point forward, you shall all be seen as part of Gaiapeias finest guardians.”
A warmth blooms in your chest as you realise that this is where you belong. This is exactly what you are meant to be doing, and the king recognises it too!
Queen Leanna Gaiapeia seems to have a few words to add. She clears her throat and says: “This year’s selection of future knights is an especially important one. You will be the first batch of knights under Prince Az’Lean’s command once he comes of age. Furthermore, he will choose one of you to become his personal protector. His Champion, as it were. As such, know that the expectations placed upon you will be demanding and my scrutiny will be intensive.”
“Now, now, Leanna. I’m sure they’ll be more than up to the task,” King Az'Marn Gaiapeia cuts in before she can continue. “With all that being said, Lady Westwale, please continue the ceremony.”
“As you wish, your majesty.” Lady Westwale turns towards you. “We will proceed alphabetically and assign each of you a mentor based on your strengths and weaknesses as far as we observed them today. Then, your mentor will gift you your first weapon. Please refrain from testing them out here in the crowd.”
Her words are met with a few chuckles, though you doubt that she was at all trying to be comedic.
As before, you own name is near the top of the list and you don’t have to wait long before it is your turn. Somehow, this part is more nerve-wracking than anything else you have done before. What if you don’t get along with your mentor? You can see your father smiling at you from within the group of nobles and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. It is going to be fine.
“$playername Grahm,” Lady Westwale announces.
<<if $element == "fire">> “I’ll take this one!” Sir Asperame announces with a smirk and steps forward. “I was pretty impressed with your performance during my test. I admit I’m not the greatest teacher, but I’m sure we can work something out.”
“It is an honour,” you say and shake his outstretched hand. Sir Asperame isn’t so bad, you think. At least he seems easy to get along with.
“Oh yeah. And here’s your weapon. Take good care of it, you’re not getting another one if you lose it.”
Sir Asperame hands you a finely crafted rapier. The handguard is shaped like a swirling mass of flames and a red crystal is imbedded within the pommel.
“Thank you,” you force out with a shaky breath. Almost reverent, you run your hands along the metal even though you can’t feel it through your gloves.
“Have fun with it, just don’t poke any eyes out!” Sir Asperame winks at you before retreating back into the group of knights.
Next up is Vynn’s turn, and you are surprised to hear that Lady Westwale herself has chosen them. She hands them a large bow made from ash wood and a quiver full of arrows with shining blue feathers.
Vynn and you exchange looks of awe as you take in the appearance of each other’s weapons before putting them out of the way as best as you can. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>“I will oversee $playername,” Chev Minne announces and steps forward. “You have shown potential during my test and I would like to help you refine it in the years to come.”
“It would be an honour,” you say and shake their outstretched hand. Chev Minne is going to be a strict mentor, you think. But you have no doubt that you’ll learn a lot from them, even if it is going to be hard work.
“Take these. They should serve you well.” With a curt nod, Chev Minne hands you two objects. First a short sword, sturdy and sharp but very simple in design, and then a shield. It is flat at the top with rounded edges that come to a sharp point at the bottom. It is wooden, reinforced with iron along the edges and painted a deep black.
“Thank you,” you force out with a shaky breath. Almost reverent, you run your hands along the metal edges even though you can’t feel them through your gloves.
“Don’t underestimate the value of a proper defence,” Chev Minne reminds you before retreating back into the group of knights.
Next up is Vynn’s turn, and you are surprised to hear that Lady Westwale herself has chosen them. She hands them a large bow made from ash wood and a quiver full of arrows with shining blue feathers.
Vynn and you exchange looks of awe as you take in the appearance of each other’s weapons before putting them out of the way as best as you can. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> “Oh, that’s the one I picked!” An elegant, blond man steps up with a deep bow. You don’t think you’ve heard his name mentioned yet. “I am Sir Stahlvart, at your service. The answers you gave during the assessment today intrigued me, so I am hoping to help you along your journey of knighthood and get to know you better all the while.”
“It is an honour, Sir Stahlvart,” you say and shake his outstretched hand. It is difficult to judge him from that short first impression alone, but you can certainly sense his passion.
“And thus, my gift to you. I am certain you will use it well.” With a flourish, Sir Stahlvart produces a pair of shining daggers. Their edges are jagged and asymmetrical, almost as if they were pieces broken off from something larger. The handles of the daggers are slightly curved and fit your hands perfectly. In one dagger, you notice a small white crystal embedded into the pommel. In the other one there is a black crystal instead.
“Thank you,” you force out with a shaky breath. Almost reverent, you run your hands along the blades even though you can’t feel them through your gloves.
“Keep in mind, it is all about balance,” Sir Stahlvart whispers cryptically before retreating back into the group of knights.
Next up is Vynn’s turn, and you are surprised to hear that Lady Westwale herself has chosen them. She hands them a large bow made from ash wood and a quiver full of arrows with shining blue feathers.
Vynn and you exchange looks of awe as you take in the appearance of each other’s weapons before putting them out of the way as best as you can. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> Lady Westwale glances at you from over her parchment and smiles to your surprise. “I’ll take you on myself. And while I’m at it, I might as well take Hollowpeann too.”
You and Vynn exchange glances. It shouldn’t be surprising that a knight might mentor more than one squire, but you hadn’t expected to be partnered with Vynn like this. Lady Westwale herself might be a little bit frightening at times, but you have no doubt that she is more than competent. At least with Vynn by your side, you don’t have to bear her harsh training alone.
“I feel like I can make you two into an effective team,” Lady Westwale says by way of explanation.
“We’re honoured,” you say and Vynn hums in agreement.
“Then, I would like to hand you these.” First, she pulls out a large bow made from ash wood and a quiver full of arrows with shining blue feathers, which she hands over to Vynn. They stare at it with the utmost awe. Then, she hands you a spear. A glistening, silvery tip of metal sits upon stark white wood. Tiny circles wrap around the wood to improve the grip upon it; it looks like seafoam to you. Beneath the tip, you can see the glint of a small blue crystal.
“Thank you,” you force out with a shaky breath. Almost reverent, you run your hands along the wood even though you can’t feel the texture through your gloves.
Vynn and you exchange looks of awe as you take in the appearance of each other’s weapons before putting them out of the way as best as you can. <<endif>>\
With your new weapon secured, your attention is drawn back to the royal family.
“Father, I would like to go and meet with the squires. After all, they will be my knights at some point,” Az’Lean says with something of a shy smile.
King Az’Marn, much like most any father, is utterly unable to refuse a request like this and sends his son off with an encouraging grin.
You can’t say you’re surprised when you notice that Az’Lean is making his way straight over to you and Vynn, even though you are standing somewhat off to the side.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Az’Lean says with a charming smile and a bow. “You probably already know but just for the sake of propriety, let me introduce myself: I am Az’Lean Gaiapeia.”
Vynn immediately returns the bow. “It is an honour, your majesty. I am Vynn Hollowpeann, and this is-“
“$playername Grahm, at your service,” you finish their sentence and descend into a bow of your own.
Az’Lean nods slowly. “You’re both nobles, right? I recognise your last names.”
“Just so,” Vynn answers. “Worried about being seen with the wrong kind of people?”
A blush creeps onto Az’Leans cheeks and he shakes his head in denial. “Not at all! I merely was hoping to- That is to say, I lack in friends my age. Spending time with nobles is something my parents couldn’t object to. I myself do not care.”
“It must be difficult being a prince,” you say.
Az’Lean shrugs. “It does get lonely, from time to time. I wanted to attend the initiation myself, you know. We’re all the same age after all, and it might’ve been fun to participate in the tests. It was deemed too dangerous, of course.”
“Well, the everboar was pretty dangerous,” Vynn comments with a hint of mischief in their eyes. “$playername almost died!”
Az’Leans wide eyes bore into you with an almost painful intensity. “Really?!”
You can’t help but crack a smile at his awe. “Vynn is greatly exaggerating. Here’s what really happened…”
You and Vynn spend some time regaling the prince with today’s adventure. As he hangs onto your every word, you can’t help but think that it isn’t all that different from talking to any other boy your age. He is a lot more down to earth than you would’ve expected from a prince.
“I hope we’ll get to go on real adventures like that together in the future,” Az’Lean says and extends a hand towards you.
Vynn whistles in amusement. “A royal handshake! You can’t possibly refuse, $playername.”
You don’t need to be told twice and take Az’Leans hand. Even though you are wearing leather gloves, the moment his hand touches yours, an electric shock travels up your arm. It feels like being plunged into ice cold water.
You know in that moment that there is some kind of connection between you two. Your destinies are intertwined – forcibly, by the hand of someone else, a practiced hand steadily working the threads of fate into a tapestry.
[[What image the tapestry will display is yet to be determined.|Interlude1.1]]Your mother regards you for a moment before she nods. "Good. It is for your own safety to stay out of trouble, alright?"
You nod your head while continuing to eat. It is not like you would want to get into trouble, anyhow. The only thing you’re not sure about is whether your mother is unnecessarily worried about your safety or not. You know that knights get hurt, of course. Your father is no longer fit to fight himself, what with his shaking hands and his bad, bad dreams, but it’ll be years before you’re a knight and will have to fight in any real battles.
Being a squire is difficult and hard work, but it shouldn’t be dangerous, you don’t think. You can’t help glancing at her over the rim of your cup. Is there something she’s not telling you?
You both finish your breakfast lost in your respective thoughts. Sooner as you might want, yet not nearly soon enough, it is time to say your goodbyes.
Your mother guides you to the front entrance, checking the state of your clothes all the while. She tugs at your collar and tightens the laces on your boot once more for good measure. A final once over and then she is satisfied.
Her smile is light as she places both of her hands on your shoulders and squeezes. You know it isn’t a hug, there’s too much air between you.
“I’ll miss you, $playername. Have a good journey and make us proud. And don’t forget to write us every week! And let us know whether you’ll be home for the solstice. Or the harvest festival. And try to make some friends, will you?” For a moment it seems like she will keep rambling on.
Should you hug her? Should you let her keep talking or interrupt? Before you have the time to make a conscious decision, her hands have already left your shoulders. Instead, she is now unfastening her owl-shaped brooch.
Your eyes widen as she fastens it to your shirt, carefully, making sure it doesn’t touch the exposed skin of your neck and collar bone. Silver is still a metal, after all.
“You’ll always be a member of the Grahm family. Understand?” Her voice quivers.
You don’t understand why. Not really.
“Thank you, mum. I’ll miss you too,” you mumble. You wish you could run your bare fingers across the brooch, feel it’s texture and indentations and the coolness you assume metal to have.
With a final, watery smile, your mother opens the front door and waves after you as you head out.
[[You take a deep breath in an attempt to quell the jumble of emotions churning in your stomach as you leave your childhood home behind.|Chapter1.4]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
Your mother regards you for a moment before she nods. "Good. It is for your own safety to stay out of trouble, alright?"
You nod your head while continuing to eat. Maybe you’ll get into trouble, maybe you won’t. It’s always kind of been like that, yet your mother’s concern seems different from usual. You know that knights get hurt, of course. Your father is no longer fit to fight himself, what with his shaking hands and his bad, bad dreams, but it’ll be years before you’re a knight and will have to fight in any real battles.
Being a squire is difficult and hard work, but it shouldn’t be dangerous, you don’t think. You can’t help glancing at her over the rim of your cup. Is there something she’s not telling you?
You both finish your breakfast lost in your respective thoughts. Sooner as you might want, yet not nearly soon enough, it is time to say your goodbyes.
Your mother guides you to the front entrance, checking the state of your clothes all the while. She tugs at your collar and tightens the laces on your boot once more for good measure. A final once over and then she is satisfied.
Her smile is light as she places both of her hands on your shoulders and squeezes. You know it isn’t a hug, there’s too much air between you.
“I’ll miss you, $playername. Have a good journey and make us proud. And don’t forget to write us every week! And let us know whether you’ll be home for the solstice. Or the harvest festival. And try to make some friends, will you?” For a moment it seems like she will keep rambling on.
Should you hug her? Should you let her keep talking or interrupt? Before you have the time to make a conscious decision, her hands have already left your shoulders. Instead, she is now unfastening her owl-shaped brooch.
Your eyes widen as she fastens it to your shirt, carefully, making sure it doesn’t touch the exposed skin of your neck and collar bone. Silver is still a metal, after all.
“You’ll always be a member of the Grahm family. Understand?” Her voice quivers. You don’t understand why. Not really.
“Thank you, mum. I’ll miss you too,” you mumble. You wish you could run your bare fingers across the brooch, feel it’s texture and indentations and the coolness you assume metal to have.
With a final, watery smile, your mother opens the front door and waves after you as you head out.
[[You take a deep breath in an attempt to quell the jumble of emotions churning in your stomach as you leave your childhood home behind.|Chapter1.4]]You step outside into the sun, the fertile lands of Grahm territory stretching far and wide. Grahm manor is positioned atop a hill overlooking fields, meadows, and the Cassja River snaking its way through them. The capital, Gaitanis, and the royal castle are located to the south of here, that much you know, so taking a boat down the river will be the fastest way to get there.
You make your way down the path towards the nearest dock, gravel crunching beneath your feet. The river isn’t far from the manor and the only people you come across are a few farmers who are busy at work.
After a while, you glance over your shoulder at your home atop the hill. It will be several months at least before you see it again and your heart clenches. You know it will be worth it, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy or painless. You swallow and exhale a shaky breath as you keep walking.
When you arrive at the old wooden dock, overtaken by moss and algae, you immediately spot your father. Despite his greying hair he is loading the boat with vivacity, humming a tune as he does so.
Almost as if he senses your presence, he whips around. Ever since that one battle two years ago, he has been jumpy, even on the best of days. You wonder if that is the reason he doesn’t serve as a knight anymore. You thought only bodies could get hurt and scar, but maybe hearts and minds can too.
Your own mind should make a connection between your father’s state and the danger of what you’re getting yourself into today, but you don’t dwell on it. There is no room for doubt in your heart as you imagine yourself, sword in hand, fighting for your prince.
Your father, Sir Fenrath Grahm, flashes you a grin as he regains his posture.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dearest boy. Or should I say, future esteemed knight Sir Grahm? Ready for departure?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “Well, well, well, if isn’t my dearest girl. Or should I say, future esteemed knight Lady Grahm? Ready for departure?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “Well, well, well, if isn’t my dearest child. Or should I say, future esteemed knight Chev Grahm? Ready for departure?” <<endif>>\
Your tongue is tied with overwhelming emotion, but you manage a steady “Born ready,” which you guess might really be true.
His grin widens a touch as he looks at you, pride in his $eyes eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll go over everything you need to know once we’ve departed. You’ll be as prepared as you can be, and I know you’ll make it through the initiation with ease.”
“You’ve been a good teacher,” you admit with a smile. You have fond memories of spending time with your father as he taught you how to read and write, how to properly use a knife, and how to behave in front of other nobles.
“High praise from a naturally gifted student such as yourself!” His laugh sounds like a bark as he extends his hand to you, attempting to help you step into the small wooden vessel.
You regard it for a moment: A wooden boat, barely large enough to hold six people, is happily bobbing up and down on the river, secured to the dock with a sturdy rope. A few of your belongings have been stowed away on it and the oars are tucked away – you won’t need them for a trip downstream.
The boat is shaking rather fiercely, a bit of water splashes onto the docks and your father must concentrate on not losing his balance.
[[You don’t need to take his hand and confidently step into the boat.|Chapter1.5A]]
[[You grasp his hand tightly as you step onboard, just to be save.|Chapter1.5B]]Your father chuckles as you hop onto the boat with all the confidence of a veteran fisherman. For a small moment you sway a bit and have to bend your knees a little to steady yourself, but you don’t slip and fall. With your head held high you sit down on one of the wooden seats, even as your heart keeps hammering away.
“Keep that spirit,” your father advises. “Bravery is an important quality for a knight to have.”
You agree readily. “Of course!”
With a few movements, swift despite your father’s shaking hands, he unties the rope and tucks it away before kicking the boat off the dock. Water splashes and it shakes, but after that it’s smooth sailing. The river is moving at a decent pace and the sky is completely clear. Overall, you feel quite refreshed with the wind lazily playing with your hair and the sun kissing your skin.
Your father takes a seat in the back, using the rudder to steer your boat ever so slightly. He hums a familiar tune and for a while, you both simply enjoy the ride.
He did, however, promise you some explanations and answers.
“So…” you start and look at him with big eyes.
He grins. “What do you want to know?”
[[“Tell me about the capital and the castle!”|FatherQ1]]
[[“Tell me about the initiation. What do I have to do?”|FatherQ2]]
[[“About the fae…”|FatherQ3]]
[[“What do you know about the prince?”|FatherQ4]]
[[“I think that’s all I want to know.”|Chapter1.6]]Your father grips your hand tightly in his own and helps you aboard. Even now you can feel his hand shaking slightly, but he helps you feel safe and steady, nonetheless. Your heart skips a beat when the boat lurches underneath your added weight, but your father’s hold is firm. He guides you onto one of the wooden seats before letting go.
“I wish I could hold your hand forever,” your father muses. “But I guess you’ll be a grown-up before I know it.”
You tilt your head pensively. “I guess so.”
With a few swift movements your father unties the rope and tucks it away before kicking the boat off the dock. Water splashes and it shakes, but after that it’s smooth sailing. The river is moving at a decent pace and the sky is completely clear. Overall, you feel quite refreshed with the wind lazily playing with your hair and the sun kissing your skin.
Your father takes a seat in the back, using the rudder to steer your boat ever so slightly. He hums a familiar tune and for a while, you both simply enjoy the ride.
He did, however, promise you some explanations and answers.
“So…” you start and look at him with big eyes.
He grins. “What do you want to know?”
[[“Tell me about the capital and the castle!”|FatherQ1]]
[[“Tell me about the initiation. What do I have to do?”|FatherQ2]]
[[“About the fae…”|FatherQ3]]
[[“What do you know about the prince?”|FatherQ4]]
[[“I think that’s all I want to know.”|Chapter1.6]]Eventually, you and your father fall silent, basking in the peace of your journey instead. Occasionally, your boat passes the dock of one of the many villages in Grahm territory. Every time, there would be someone to wave at you in greeting and your father would wave back with a smile. He has always been respected not only as a knight, but as a nobleman too. Would you be viewed the same way, in time?
As the sun continues to rise in the sky, you are slowly nearing the end of Grahm territory. You notice the meadows and fields on the shore to your left and right slowly being replaced with large, white rocks and increasingly steep cliffs. It is a sight you have never seen before and with a start you realise that this is officially the furthest you have ever been away from home.
It doesn’t take long until the Cassja River is entirely surrounded by boulders and cliffs, casting cool shadows over your boat. Far off in the distance you can see some kind of structure made of bricks, spanning the river. A bridge of some kind?
“What’s that?” you ask curiously.
“That’s the border between Grahm territory and Hollowpeann territory. Don’t worry, they’ll open the gate for us,” he explains.
You strain your eyes a bit and are able to see that, under the bridge connecting the two cliff sides, there is a large metal gate blocking off the river in front of you.
As you approach the river gate, your father steers your boat slowly to the left, close to one of the large pillars of the bridge. Only now do you realise that there is a window inside of it, and that it is actually a checkpoint booth of some kind.
Your father stops the boat in front of the checkpoint, quickly securing it on a post next to it. Your boat is continuously bobbing up and down on the waves, but it stays in place.
A bored-looking woman is sitting behind the window, though her eyes light up in recognition when she spots your father.
“Sir Grahm, heading to the capital?” she asks, scribbling something down on a piece of paper in front of her.
“Just so,” your father answers with a grin. “Today’s an important day.”
She nods. “So I’ve heard. Say, mind taking someone else along? Poor kid doesn’t have a ride.”
That piques your interest. “A kid? Another squire?”
“That’s right. One of the Hollowpeann brats,” she drawls.
You hear an exasperated huff behind her. “Hey, I do have a name, you know!”
The woman sighs and rubs her temples, as if this were the kind of situation she hated dealing with.
[[“The name’s Vynn, and don’t you forget it!”|Chapter1.7]]“The name’s Vynn, and don’t you forget it!”
Suddenly, a head pops up in front of the woman, eyes barely peeking over the lower edge of the window. They are the warmest, richest brown you haver ever seen, like molten chocolate. These curious eyes sit on a sun-kissed, freckled face, framed by unruly brown curls.
“Vynn Hollowpeann,” your father muses. “We could take you along, why not?”
“Are you headed to the capital for the initiation?” you ask.
Vynn’s attention flickers over to you and their eyes widen with glee. “Oh, thank the gods! You too? At least I won’t have to be completely on my own.”
Slender fingers appear on the edge of the window as Vynn starts pulling themselves up.
“What are you doing?!” the woman manning the checkpoint shouts incredulously as Vynn begins climbing through the window.
“I’m leaving. Sorry for the trouble, miss!” With a grunt they wriggle themselves through the window, tumbling headfirst into your boat. Your father just barely manages to steady them in time before they can hit their head. With an amused huff, he helps Vynn take a seat.
The gate in front of you is slowly being raised with a loud screech as Vynn takes a second to get their bearings on the swaying boat.
[[“Are… are you alright?”|Chapter1.8A]]
[[“Do you often climb through windows?”|Chapter1.8B]]
[[Remain silent but watch this stranger with interest.|Chapter1.8C]]
[[Roll your eyes at their behaviour.|Chapter1.8D]]Vynn simply straightens out their vest and regards you with a dazzling smile.
“Never better. At least now I have a way to get into the capital, and with such pleasant company too.”
“A little charmer, are you?” Your father seems amused. “You’re the youngest Hollowpeann, then?”
You know Hollowpeann is the territory next to yours, so this kid must be a noble too.
“Youngest of seven,” Vynn groans as if the thought of having siblings offends them. “And you must be the Grahms, right?” Their eyes glance at your silver brooch.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this my son, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my daughter, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my child, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
Enthusiastically, Vynn first shakes your father’s hand and then yours.
“Are you excited for the initiation? And becoming a squire in general?” you ask. You didn’t think you would be meeting a fellow squire-to-be this soon.
A drawn-out sigh escapes Vynn's lips and they avert their eyes. “To be honest, not really.”
Surprise and a bit of uncertainty blossoms in your chest – you can’t help but frown. “You…don’t want to become a knight?”
The thought is somewhat incomprehensible to you. Rationally, you know that fighting is dangerous and not for everyone, but something deep within your chest recoils at the thought that not everyone would strife for knighthood. That there might be other options. Better options.
“I mean, I guess being a knight beats being a priest,” Vynn says after a moment of contemplation. “But it’s not what I would have chosen for myself. Those were my only two options, though.”
“Because you’re the youngest child?” your father asks. Sympathy deepens the shadows under his eyes.
You are an only child, and your path is laid out before you, but you know not everyone has it that easy. You know how the nobility works. Duty. Inheritance. Marriage. A balancing act that leaves little room for personal choice.
Vynn nods and tugs restlessly on one of their curls. “I need to support the family in some way. So, knighthood it is.”
The sad smile on their face keeps you from asking what they would rather be doing with their life. Instead, you attempt to change the topic, asking your father more questions about the capital. As he regales you and Vynn with story after story, you leave the gate behind you and travel further down the Cassja River. Hollowpeann territory seems much less fertile than Grahm territory, but you spot a few mines along the cliffs instead.
[[It's strange to think that metal is just buried in the ground.|Chapter1.9]]Vynn bursts into laughter as they straighten out their vest. “Actually, I do. My room’s on the ground floor, so sometimes I just use my window as a shortcut to get outside. Mother hates it.”
“A little rascal, are you?” Your father seems amused. “You’re the youngest Hollowpeann, then?” he asks.
You know Hollowpeann is the territory next to yours, so this kid must be a noble too.
“Youngest of seven,” Vynn groans as if the thought of having siblings offends them. “And you must be the Grahms, right?” Their eyes glance at your silver brooch.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this my son, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my daughter, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my child, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
Enthusiastically, Vynn first shakes your father’s hand and then yours.
“Are you excited for the initiation? And becoming a squire in general?” you ask. You didn’t think you would be meeting a fellow squire-to-be this soon.
A drawn-out sigh escapes Vynn's lips and they avert their eyes. “To be honest, not really.”
Surprise and a bit of uncertainty blossoms in your chest – you can’t help but frown. “You…don’t want to become a knight?”
The thought is somewhat incomprehensible to you. Rationally, you know that fighting is dangerous and not for everyone, but something deep within your chest recoils at the thought that not everyone would strife for knighthood. That there might be other options. Better options.
“I mean, I guess being a knight beats being a priest,” Vynn says after a moment of contemplation. “But it’s not what I would have chosen for myself. Those were my only two options, though.”
“Because you’re the youngest child?” your father asks. Sympathy deepens the shadows under his eyes.
You are an only child, and your path is laid out before you, but you know not everyone has it that easy. You know how the nobility works. Duty. Inheritance. Marriage. A balancing act that leaves little room for personal choice.
Vynn nods and tugs restlessly on one of their curls. “I need to support the family in some way. So, knighthood it is.”
The sad smile on their face keeps you from asking what they would rather be doing with their life. Instead, you attempt to change the topic, asking your father more questions about the capital. As he regales you and Vynn with story after story, you leave the gate behind you and travel further down the Cassja River. Hollowpeann territory seems much less fertile than Grahm territory, but you spot a few mines along the cliffs instead.
[[It's strange to think that metal is just buried in the ground.|Chapter1.9]]Vynn straightens out their vest, a bright expression on their face. You get the feeling they’re the rowdy sort, always up for fun and trouble. Vaguely, they remind you of the sun, of dandelions, and of caramel apples.
“Good to have you onboard, Vynn. You’re the youngest Hollowpeann, then?” your father asks.
You know Hollowpeann is the territory next to yours, so this kid must be a noble too.
“Youngest of seven,” Vynn groans as if the thought of having siblings offends them. “And you must be the Grahms, right?” Their eyes glance at your silver brooch.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this my son, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my daughter, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my child, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
Enthusiastically, Vynn first shakes your father’s hand and then yours.
“Are you excited for the initiation? And becoming a squire in general?” you ask. You didn’t think you would be meeting a fellow squire-to-be this soon.
A drawn-out sigh escapes Vynn's lips and they avert their eyes. “To be honest, not really.”
Surprise and a bit of uncertainty blossoms in your chest – you can’t help but frown. “You…don’t want to become a knight?”
The thought is somewhat incomprehensible to you. Rationally, you know that fighting is dangerous and not for everyone, but something deep within your chest recoils at the thought that not everyone would strife for knighthood. That there might be other options. Better options.
“I mean, I guess being a knight beats being a priest,” Vynn says after a moment of contemplation. “But it’s not what I would have chosen for myself. Those were my only two options, though.”
“Because you’re the youngest child?” your father asks. Sympathy deepens the shadows under his eyes.
You are an only child, and your path is laid out before you, but you know not everyone has it that easy. You know how the nobility works. Duty. Inheritance. Marriage. A balancing act that leaves little room for personal choice.
Vynn nods and tugs restlessly on one of their curls. “I need to support the family in some way. So, knighthood it is.”
The sad smile on their face keeps you from asking what they would rather be doing with their life. Instead, you attempt to change the topic, asking your father more questions about the capital. As he regales you and Vynn with story after story, you leave the gate behind you and travel further down the Cassja river. Hollowpeann territory seems much less fertile than Grahm territory, but you spot a few mines along the cliffs instead.
[[It's strange to think that metal is just buried in the ground.|Chapter1.9]]As Vynn straightens out their vest, you can’t help but think that this isn’t how a noble or a future knight should conduct themselves. You get the feeling Vynn is a bit of a troublemaker, and you’re not sure you like it.
“Good to have you onboard, Vynn. You’re the youngest Hollowpeann, then?” your father asks.
You know Hollowpeann is the territory next to yours, so this kid must be a noble too.
“Youngest of seven,” Vynn groans as if the thought of having siblings offends them. “And you must be the Grahms, right?” Their eyes glance at your silver brooch.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this my son, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my daughter, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “That’s right,” your father answers. “I’m Sir Fenrath Grahm and this is my child, $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
Enthusiastically, Vynn first shakes your father’s hand and then yours.
“Are you excited for the initiation? And becoming a squire in general?” you ask. You didn’t think you would be meeting a fellow squire-to-be this soon.
A drawn-out sigh escapes Vynn's lips and they avert their eyes. “To be honest, not really.”
Surprise and a bit of uncertainty blossoms in your chest – you can’t help but frown. “You…don’t want to become a knight?”
The thought is somewhat incomprehensible to you. Rationally, you know that fighting is dangerous and not for everyone, but something deep within your chest recoils at the thought that not everyone would strife for knighthood. That there might be other options. Better options.
“I mean, I guess being a knight beats being a priest,” Vynn says after a moment of contemplation. “But it’s not what I would have chosen for myself. Those were my only two options, though.”
“Because you’re the youngest child?” your father asks. Sympathy deepens the shadows under his eyes.
You are an only child, and your path is laid out before you, but you know not everyone has it that easy. You know how the nobility works. Duty. Inheritance. Marriage. A balancing act that leaves little room for personal choice.
Vynn nods and tugs restlessly on one of their curls. “I need to support the family in some way. So, knighthood it is.”
The sad smile on their face keeps you from asking what they would rather be doing with their life. Instead, you attempt to change the topic, asking your father more questions about the capital. As he regales you and Vynn with story after story, you leave the gate behind you and travel further down the Cassja river. Hollowpeann territory seems much less fertile than Grahm territory, but you spot a few mines along the cliffs instead.
[[It's strange to think that metal is just buried in the ground.|Chapter1.9]]Speaking of metal… Far off in the distance, miles downstream, you spot something glinting in the sun. It seems to be reflecting the light in a way that differs from the water beneath you. “Is that…?”
Your father turns his head, squinting. “The outer wall of Gaitanis, a behemoth of stone and metal that stretches for miles. It’ll take a few more hours until we reach it, but as you can see, it is massive enough to be seen from a distance.”
An appreciative whistle escapes Vynn’s lips as they shield their eyes from the glint. “A few more hours… So then, will the initiation be held in the evening?”
“That’s right. Don’t worry, you’ll have enough time to grab a bite to eat and mentally prepare yourselves,” your father says.
“So, what about you, $playername? It seemed to me like you’re quite eager to become a knight. I’ve heard about the coincidence of your and the prince’s birthdays, but… Well, just because some people expect you to become a knight, doesn’t mean that’s what you want, too.” As they wait for you to answer, Vynn absentmindedly lowers one arm over the side of the boat, fingertips languidly dipping into the flowing currents.
You don’t have to think much about your answer. “I’m excited, I’d say. Becoming a knight is what I’ve always dreamed about. I guess I’m lucky that my dream aligns so well with my duty. Though I know it won’t be easy, I’m still looking forward to it.”
A genuine smile blossoms on Vynn’s face. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Just a suggestion,” your father says with a smile of his own, “but why don’t you two stick together? Have each other’s backs? Not just for today, but in general. Knights never fight alone, you know.”
The thought seems to delight Vynn. With an exaggerated motion, they throw up their arms in giddy excitement, splashing water around as they do so. “What a fine notion! What say you, $playername?”
The thought of already knowing someone going into all this is comforting, and you know it’d be prudent to get along with your fellow squires as best as possible. Trying to befriend Vynn might turn out to be fun, too.
That being said…
[[You would love nothing more than to be friends with Vynn and say as much.|Chapter1.10A]]
[[You would love nothing more than to be friends with Vynn but downplay it.|Chapter1.10B]]
[[You’re unsure about Vynn at this point but will keep an open mind.|Chapter1.10C]]
[[You’re unsure about Vynn at this point and don’t think your opinion will change.|Chapter1.10D]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
Lester nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “See, there’s a difference between <i>having</i> to work as a servant and doing it for your own benefit. If I don’t like it here anymore I don’t have a problem with just high-tailing it out of here.”
“But there is something keeping you here at the moment.” You don’t phrase it as a question so he doesn’t feel compelled to answer.
“That’s correct.” He grins at you but doesn’t elaborate. The two of you fall into silence as he leads you the rest of the way to the servants’ quarters. It isn’t necessarily a tense affair, but you can tell that both of you have your guard up around each other.
It doesn’t take long to exit the tunnels. You find yourself in a different part of the castle yet again, though you have lost track of which wing you are in right now. As expected of the servants’ quarters, the hallways here are markedly less decorated but just as clean. The smell of freshly washed linen hangs in the air as Lester guides you through wooden archways into a complex set of intertwining stairs leading up and down into different floors.
“The basement is mainly storage, the middle floors are for workstations and the upper floor is for bedrooms,” Lester explains as he runs his hand along the polished wooden handrail. The stairs seem to give him a bit of trouble but you don’t comment on it.
A group of maids come rushing down the stairs next to you, carrying baskets filled with different coloured fabric and golden ornaments. Chattering and laughter echo from somewhere below you and you can faintly hear the strumming of a zither.
“It’s a lot more lively compared to other parts of the castle,” you say.
Lester clicks his tongue. “More people living in less space. It might seem charming now but it’s fucking impossible to indulge in activities of the pleasurable sort without everyone knowing. Or being forced to hear other people’s nighttime adventures, on the flip side.”
“It was the same way in the barracks,” you say with a grimace. “Hard to look someone in the eye during training the next day.”
Lester barks a laugh as he comes to a halt in front of what seems to be a sewing room, allowing you a small glimpse at the people working inside - mending and stitching away while engrossed in amicable conversation.
“Now it’s just the prince I share a wall with,” you suddenly realise. “I assume it’s going to be a lot quieter.”
“Definitely. Princeling is a big prude, believe it or not.” Lester smirks deviously. “Or maybe he just can’t get it up.”
The urge to immediately defend Az’Lean is strong, but you really, really don’t want to talk about this topic at all, actually. You immediately regret even bringing it up.
Luckily, Lester seems satisfied with having made you uncomfortable and continues the tour, leading you past various work-stations including a room with a gigantic metal basin in which a servant is using water magic to continuously stir a bunch of laundry.
The final stop turns out to be Lester’s own bedroom, though he only opens the door a crack to let you peek inside. It’s dark and messy in there so you can’t see much, though you do spot a bunch of balls of yarn, a water-pipe and a cheese wheel, for some reason. It smells faintly of burnt wood and ginger.
Lester grins up at you. “If Princeling ever gets on your nerves, feel free to seek refuge here.”
[[You sternly shake your head. “It is my duty to be by his side, even if he somehow managed to drive me up the wall.”|Chapter15.A]]
[[“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You doubt you’d ever need it, but there’s no harm in being aware of the option.|Chapter15.B]]
[[“And what if I just want to come see you? Would I be welcome then too?” You can’t deny that Lester is interesting company at the very least.|Chapter15.C]]<<set $Lester to $Lester - 5>>\
Bitter laughter escapes him, sounding high-pitched and raw. “I don’t believe in sense, Champ. Or rules, for that matter. I’m not a servant because I have to be, I just do it because I want to. I’ll be gone as soon as it’s not fun anymore.”
Your frown deepens. “What’s keeping you here then if it isn’t duty?”
Lester rolls his eyes at you. “I just said it: I’m just having some fun.”
“That isn’t much of a reason,” you comment but he doesn't elaborate further. You seriously doubt that fun is all there is to it. No wonder the prince doesn’t trust him. The two of you fall into silence as he leads you the rest of the way to the servants’ quarters. It’s a tense affair and you can tell that both of you have your guard up around the other.
It doesn’t take long to exit the tunnels. You find yourself in a different part of the castle yet again, though you have lost track of which wing you are in right now. As expected of the servants’ quarters, the hallways here are markedly less decorated but just as clean. The smell of freshly washed linen hangs in the air as Lester guides you through wooden archways into a complex set of intertwining stairs leading up and down into different floors.
“The basement is mainly storage, the middle floors are for workstations and the upper floor is for bedrooms,” Lester explains as he runs his hand along the polished wooden handrail. The stairs seem to give him a bit of trouble but you don’t comment on it.
A group of maids come rushing down the stairs next to you, carrying baskets filled with different coloured fabric and golden ornaments. Chattering and laughter echo from somewhere below you and you can faintly hear the strumming of a lyre.
“It’s a lot more lively compared to other parts of the castle,” you say.
Lester clicks his tongue. “More people living in less space. It might seem charming now but it’s fucking impossible to indulge in activities of the pleasurable sort without everyone knowing. Or being forced to hear other people’s nighttime adventures, on the flip side.”
“It was the same way in the barracks,” you say with a grimace. “Hard to look someone in the eye during training the next day.”
Lester barks a laugh as he comes to a halt in front of what seems to be a sewing room, allowing you a small glimpse at the people working inside - mending and stitching away while engrossed in amicable conversation.
“Now it’s just the prince I share a wall with,” you suddenly realise. “I assume it’s going to be a lot quieter.”
“Definitely. Princeling is a big prude, believe it or not.” Lester smirks deviously. “Or maybe he just can’t get it up.”
The urge to immediately defend Az’Lean is strong, but you really, really don’t want to talk about this topic at all, actually. You immediately regret even bringing it up.
Luckily, Lester seems satisfied with having made you uncomfortable and continues the tour, leading you past various work-stations including a room with a gigantic metal basin in which a servant is using water magic to continuously stir a bunch of laundry.
The final stop turns out to be Lester’s own bedroom, though he only opens the door a crack to let you peek inside. It’s dark and messy in there so you can’t see much, though you do spot a bunch of balls of yarn, a water-pipe and a cheese wheel, for some reason. It smells faintly of burnt wood and ginger.
Lester grins up at you. “If Princeling ever gets on your nerves, feel free to seek refuge here.”
[[You sternly shake your head. “It is my duty to be by his side, even if he somehow managed to drive me up the wall.”|Chapter15.A]]
[[“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You doubt you’d ever need it, but there’s no harm in being aware of the option.|Chapter15.B]]
[[“And what if I just want to come see you? Would I be welcome then too?” You can’t deny that Lester is interesting company at the very least.|Chapter15.C]]<<set $Lester to $Lester - 5 >>\
He raises an eyebrow at you but remains silent. Even though his face is very expressive, you’re having a hard time gauging his reactions.
“I generally don’t order people around,” you add as clarification.
“Of course not, Champ. You don’t seem the type at all,” he drawls. “I guess that should mean there’s nothing preventing us from getting along.”
Now it’s your turn to be sceptical. “Is that the only requirement? Not ordering people around?”
“No,” he says with a grin but doesn’t elaborate. The two of you fall into silence as he leads you the rest of the way to the servants’ quarters. It isn’t necessarily a tense affair, but you can tell that both of you have your guard up around each other.
It doesn’t take long to exit the tunnels. You find yourself in a different part of the castle yet again, though you have lost track of which wing you are in right now. As expected of the servants’ quarters, the hallways here are markedly less decorated but just as clean. The smell of freshly washed linen hangs in the air as Lester guides you through wooden archways into a complex set of intertwining stairs leading up and down into different floors.
“The basement is mainly storage, the middle floors are for workstations and the upper floor is for bedrooms,” Lester explains as he runs his hand along the polished wooden handrail. The stairs seem to give him a bit of trouble but you don’t comment on it.
A group of maids come rushing down the stairs next to you, carrying baskets filled with different coloured fabric and golden ornaments. Chattering and laughter echo from somewhere below you and you can faintly hear the strumming of a lyre.
“It’s a lot more lively compared to other parts of the castle,” you say.
Lester clicks his tongue. “More people living in less space. It might seem charming now but it’s fucking impossible to indulge in activities of the pleasurable sort without everyone knowing. Or being forced to hear other people’s nighttime adventures, on the flip side.”
“It was the same way in the barracks,” you say with a grimace. “Hard to look someone in the eye during training the next day.”
Lester barks a laugh as he comes to a halt in front of what seems to be a sewing room, allowing you a small glimpse at the people working inside - mending and stitching away while engrossed in amicable conversation.
“Now it’s just the prince I share a wall with,” you suddenly realise. “I assume it’s going to be a lot quieter.”
“Definitely. Princeling is a big prude, believe it or not.” Lester smirks deviously. “Or maybe he just can’t get it up.”
The urge to immediately defend Az’Lean is strong, but you really, really don’t want to talk about this topic at all, actually. You immediately regret even bringing it up.
Luckily, Lester seems satisfied with having made you uncomfortable and continues the tour, leading you past various work-stations including a room with a gigantic metal basin in which a servant is using water magic to continuously stir a bunch of laundry.
The final stop turns out to be Lester’s own bedroom, though he only opens the door a crack to let you peek inside. It’s dark and messy in there so you can’t see much, though you do spot a bunch of balls of yarn, a water-pipe and a cheese wheel, for some reason. It smells faintly of burnt wood and ginger.
Lester grins up at you. “If Princeling ever gets on your nerves, feel free to seek refuge here.”
[[You sternly shake your head. “It is my duty to be by his side, even if he somehow managed to drive me up the wall.”|Chapter15.A]]
[[“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You doubt you’d ever need it, but there’s no harm in being aware of the option.|Chapter15.B]]
[[“And what if I just want to come see you? Would I be welcome then too?” You can’t deny that Lester is interesting company at the very least.|Chapter15.C]]Lester nods solemnly. “Of course, Champ. Your sacrifice won’t be forgotten.” He closes the door to his room again. “But seriously, feel free to come visit anytime.”
He seems to be genuine so you respond in kind. “Thank you for the offer.”
“You must be tired from all this wandering around. Let’s have a seat while we wait for Princeling to catch up to us.” Lester heaves himself onto a window sill carved out of the stone wall opposite his door, patting the space next to him in invitation. Seeing no reason to decline, you join him.
As soon as you sit down, you realise that you are in fact exhausted, and not only physically. It feels like you're lugging a weight around that has been tied to your lungs, threatening to pull you under without warning. <i>You want to ask Lester what it feels like being half-fae. You want to ask him if he always knew what he was and how he copes.</i>
Sitting down at least lets you rest your feet, even if it only makes you feel more restless. You don’t want to be left to your thoughts right now, and maybe never again if you can manage it. Your mind feels like a house of cards, threatening to collapse in on itself. You dread the moment you’ll be alone in your room - getting through the night like this seems impossible.
You decide to fill the silence. “Thank you for showing me around, Lester. I know you only did it to annoy Az’Lean, but you still didn’t need to actually do it.”
Lester hums thoughtfully, running a hand through his beard. “I was headed here anyway but I guess it’s worth a thanks. I’ll take it.”
His bright green eyes flicker to you for a moment, assessing you like one predator sizing up another. It seems like there’s something he wants to say, but before he gets the chance you can hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching you.
Az’Lean is headed up the stairs towards you, looking completely out of place as he slides past a bunch of bowing servants. From the way his eyes dart around carefully you can tell that he isn’t too familiar - or comfortable - with this part of the castle.
As soon as he spots you his face lights up. <i>And you can’t help feeling guilty about it.</i>
“There you are! I take it you’ve finished your tour of this place?” Az’Lean comes to a halt in front of you. Even though Lester is sitting up on a window sill, Az’Lean still towers above him.
“Yes, I think I know where everything is now,” you say. “What’s up next?”
“There’s a few things we haven’t seen yet, mainly the towers, the armaments, and the grounds, though I think you’ll be able to explore those on your own. Then of course there’s the dungeons, the catacombs, and the vault, but I’d rather show you those when there’s need for it. My suggestion would be to finish our tour with a stroll through the portrait hall and stop there.”
“That sounds good to me,” you say, deciding to explore more of the castle in your own time. You want to get to a point where you know it as well as the back of your hand, though that will surely come with time.
“Why the portrait hall? Literally no one cares about dead people from ages ago,” Lester inserts himself into the conversation.
Az’Lean ignores him completely. “Then let’s be off, $playername.”
“Lead the way. It was nice meeting you, Lester,” you say and incline your head towards him.
He shoots you a grin. “Likewise, $playername. See you around.” You can see Lester waving at you from the corner of your eye as Az’Lean leads you back down the stairs.
“Did he say anything weird to you?” Az’Lean asks quietly as soon as you are out of earshot.
You regard him carefully. “Weird how?”
“I don’t know,” he admits slowly. “I just don’t trust him.”
“He said as much,” you confirm. “That you think he might be a spy and that he thinks it a ridiculous notion.”
Az’Lean nods. “What was your impression of him?”
[[“I agree that he seems suspicious.”|Chapter3.16A]]
[[“He seems harmless enough.”|Chapter3.16B]]
[[“I don’t think he’s a bad person.”|Chapter3.16B]]
[[“It’s too early to say, really.”|Chapter3.16C]]Lester nods in satisfaction. “Anytime, Champ. Seriously, this castle can be a chaotic and at times dangerous place, so it’s good to know who here has your back.” He closes the door to his room again.
“Then I’ll extend the same offer to you, Lester. I assume you know where my room is, if you ever want to come by.”
He grins broadly. “How kind of you, Champ!”
“You must be tired from all this wandering around. Let’s have a seat while we wait for Princeling to catch up to us.” Lester heaves himself onto a window sill carved out of the stone wall opposite his door, patting the space next to him in invitation. Seeing no reason to decline, you join him.
As soon as you sit down, you realise that you are in fact exhausted, and not only physically. It feels like you're lugging a weight around that has been tied to your lungs, threatening to pull you under without warning. <i>You want to ask Lester what it feels like being half-fae. You want to ask him if he always knew what he was and how he copes. </i>
Sitting down at least lets you rest your feet, even if it only makes you feel more restless. You don’t want to be left to your thoughts right now, and maybe never again if you can manage it. Your mind feels like a house of cards, threatening to collapse in on itself. You dread the moment you’ll be alone in your room - getting through the night like this seems impossible.
You decide to fill the silence. “Thank you for showing me around, Lester. I know you only did it to annoy Az’Lean, but you still didn’t need to actually do it.”
Lester hums thoughtfully, running a hand through his beard. “I was headed here anyway but I guess it’s worth a thanks. I’ll take it.”
His bright green eyes flicker to you for a moment, assessing you like one predator sizing up another. It seems like there’s something he wants to say, but before he gets the chance you can hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching you.
Az’Lean is headed up the stairs towards you, looking completely out of place as he slides past a bunch of bowing servants. From the way his eyes dart around carefully you can tell that he isn’t too familiar - or comfortable - with this part of the castle.
As soon as he spots you his face lights up. <i>And you can’t help feeling guilty about it.</i>
“There you are! I take it you’ve finished your tour of this place?” Az’Lean comes to a halt in front of you. Even though Lester is sitting up on a window sill, Az’Lean still towers above him.
“Yes, I think I know where everything is now,” you say. “What’s up next?”
“There’s a few things we haven’t seen yet, mainly the towers, the armaments, and the grounds, though I think you’ll be able to explore those on your own. Then of course there’s the dungeons, the catacombs, and the vault, but I’d rather show you those when there’s need for it. My suggestion would be to finish our tour with a stroll through the portrait hall and stop there.”
“That sounds good to me,” you say, deciding to explore more of the castle in your own time. You want to get to a point where you know it as well as the back of your hand, though that will surely come with time.
“Why the portrait hall? Literally no one cares about dead people from ages ago,” Lester inserts himself into the conversation.
Az’Lean ignores him completely. “Then let’s be off, $playername.”
“Lead the way. It was nice meeting you, Lester,” you say and incline your head towards him.
He shoots you a grin. “Likewise, $playername. See you around.”You can see Lester waving at you from the corner of your eye as Az’Lean leads you back down the stairs.
“Did he say anything weird to you?” Az’Lean asks quietly as soon as you are out of earshot.
You regard him carefully. “Weird how?”
“I don’t know,” he admits slowly. “I just don’t trust him.”
“He said as much,” you confirm. “That you think he might be a spy and that he thinks it a ridiculous notion.”
Az’Lean nods. “What was your impression of him?”
[[“I agree that he seems suspicious.”|Chapter3.16A]]
[[“He seems harmless enough.”|Chapter3.16B]]
[[“I don’t think he’s a bad person.”|Chapter3.16B]]
[[“It’s too early to say, really.”|Chapter3.16C]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>> <<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
A wicked smile crawls onto his face. “My, how presumptuous of you, Champ. But how could I say no if you ask all nicely like that? Of course you can come see me whenever you want. I might even enjoy it.”
“That’s good to know,” you say, trying to sound casual. It’s not that you were implying anything with your question but you get the feeling Lester will take a mile when given an inch, so you should probably tread carefully around him when it comes to anything that might be construed as flirting.
“You must be tired from all this wandering around. Let’s have a seat while we wait for Princeling to catch up to us.” Lester heaves himself onto a window sill carved out of the stone wall opposite his door, patting the space next to him in invitation. Seeing no reason to decline, you join him.
As soon as you sit down, you realise that you are in fact exhausted, and not only physically. It feels like you're lugging a weight around that has been tied to your lungs, threatening to pull you under without warning. <i>You want to ask Lester what it feels like being half-fae. You want to ask him if he always knew what he was and how he copes.</i>
Sitting down at least lets you rest your feet, even if it only makes you feel more restless. You don’t want to be left to your thoughts right now, and maybe never again if you can manage it. Your mind feels like a house of cards, threatening to collapse in on itself. You dread the moment you’ll be alone in your room - getting through the night like this seems impossible.
You decide to fill the silence. “Thank you for showing me around, Lester. I know you only did it to annoy Az’Lean, but you still didn’t need to actually do it.”
Lester hums thoughtfully, running a hand through his beard. “I was headed here anyway but I guess it’s worth a thanks. I’ll take it.”
His bright green eyes flicker to you for a moment, assessing you like one predator sizing up another. It seems like there’s something he wants to say, but before he gets the chance you can hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching you.
Az’Lean is headed up the stairs towards you, looking completely out of place as he slides past a bunch of bowing servants. From the way his eyes dart around carefully you can tell that he isn’t too familiar - or comfortable - with this part of the castle.
As soon as he spots you his face lights up. <i>And you can’t help feeling guilty about it.</i>
“There you are! I take it you’ve finished your tour of this place?” Az’Lean comes to a halt in front of you. Even though Lester is sitting up on a window sill, Az’Lean still towers above him.
“Yes, I think I know where everything is now,” you say. “What’s up next?”
“There’s a few things we haven’t seen yet, mainly the towers, the armaments, and the grounds, though I think you’ll be able to explore those on your own. Then of course there’s the dungeons, the catacombs, and the vault, but I’d rather show you those when there’s need for it. My suggestion would be to finish our tour with a stroll through the portrait hall and stop there.”
“That sounds good to me,” you say, deciding to explore more of the castle in your own time. You want to get to a point where you know it as well as the back of your hand, though that will surely come with time.
“Why the portrait hall? Literally no one cares about dead people from ages ago,” Lester inserts himself into the conversation.
Az’Lean ignores him completely. “Then let’s be off, $playername.”
“Lead the way. It was nice meeting you, Lester,” you say and incline your head towards him.
He shoots you a grin. “Likewise, $playername. See you around.” You can see Lester waving at you from the corner of your eye as Az’Lean leads you back down the stairs.
“Did he say anything weird to you?” Az’Lean asks quietly as soon as you are out of earshot.
You regard him carefully. “Weird how?”
“I don’t know,” he admits slowly. “I just don’t trust him.”
“He said as much,” you confirm. “That you think he might be a spy and that he thinks it a ridiculous notion.”
Az’Lean nods. “What was your impression of him?”
[[“I agree that he seems suspicious.”|Chapter3.16A]]
[[“He seems harmless enough.”|Chapter3.16B]]
[[“I don’t think he’s a bad person.”|Chapter3.16B]]
[[“It’s too early to say, really.”|Chapter3.16C]]Lady Westwale steps back and the knight with red hair and a scruffy beard takes over for her.
“Now then, let’s leave that boring questioning behind us and do something more fun instead!” A grin lights up his face as he surveys the group of children before him. At the same time, you can see the other knights lay out a row of braziers on the grounds behind him – one for each of you, by the looks of it.
“My name is Sir Asperame and this is what I want you to be doing now: We will proceed to light these braziers with fire magic and I want you to put them out. Everyone gets their own brazier, so why don’t you start getting into position.”
You do as he instructs you, coming to stand in front of one of the braziers, Vynn to your left and Melinda to your right. Sir Asperame and a few other knights who seem to be able to do some fire magic go around lighting the braziers one by one with nothing more than a flick of their wrists. You watch what they're doing in awe – magic isn’t something just anyone can do, and it requires years of training to learn it. Your parents are not very magically inclined, and you can’t help but wonder if you are.
Sir Asperame looks over the lit flames with a satisfied glimmer in his eyes. “Now, you can use whatever means you can find on these grounds to put out your fire. Water, sand, your own magic – whatever you can think of. I’ll be judging you on speed, efficiency, and safety. Imagine that this represents a burning village – every second counts, right?”
Instinctively, your eyes start scanning your surroundings. You spot a lot of sand on the ground, but you’d need to find a bucket to carry it in. There’s also a watering trough for horses, but it’s on the other side of the grounds. It’ll take a while to get and most of the others are going to immediately run for it.
Magic isn’t an option for you. Maybe there’s another way to put out a fire. Smother it, maybe? Bribe one of the knights to put it out for you?
As you start to think a bit more about your task, you realise something. The assignment was phrased in such a way that it sounds like everyone is supposed to put out their own fire and will be judged on that individually. However, if this were a real emergency, working together to put all the fires out would be much more efficient and safer rather than scrambling over each other, trying to secure limited resources.
Sir Asperame looks like he is going to give the starting signal any second, so you have to decide quickly.
Will you focus only on your own fire, as was asked of you? Or will you take the risk of doing it differently by proposing team work instead?
[[Working together is the way to go. It is what any good knight would do in a situation like this.|Chapter1.19A]]
[[You should work alone. The task is to put your own fire out and it would be foolish to ignore that aspect of the test.|Chapter1.19B]]<img src="images/Chap2.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 12th of the Cherry Moon
A cacophony of people’s voices is endlessly battering against the barracks' walls - a formidable tidal wave threatening to pull you under. You so clearly remember Lady Westwale’s words from back then: Get used to being paraded around in front of a crowd. Getting used to it is one thing, but nothing could have prepared you for this day. Only moments from now, you will be knighted, then forced to fight each other for the prince’s attention.
What if he chooses someone else to be his Champion and you’ve wasted over a decade of your life? It should be unthinkable really, but recently you haven’t been feeling very confident. Prince Az’Lean hasn’t spoken to you in months and you have no idea what he is thinking at all.
You take a steadying breath as you try to smooth out the wrinkles of your blue surcoat one last time, shaking hands hidden deep in protective gauntlets.
“No helmet again?” Vynn asks despite already knowing the answer.
You sigh, glad for a reason to break the oppressive silence. “You know I can’t stand the itching.”
“I thought it was getting better.” As if to demonstrate, Vynn comes up to you, gently touching your nose with their own iron-clad hand. You reel back instantly, even though it doesn’t hurt. It’s not much more than a mildly unpleasant feeling, but the aversion to it is ingrained deeply within your mind.
You grumpily slap their hand away, gnawing anxiety making it hard to be amused by Vynn’s usual antics. “Better doesn’t mean fine, Vynn.”
An apologetic look crosses their face. Vynn has grown tall and lanky in recent years, though their sun-kissed face has lost none of its softness. Unruly brown curls have grown even wilder, framing them like a lion’s mane.
“Then I’ll ditch it too,” they say and instead start wrapping one of their many scarves around their neck – purple today. Much like you, they are also fully geared up in heavy armour and donning the ceremonial blue surcoat on top.
You raise an eyebrow at the ends of the scarf hanging loosely from Vynn’s shoulders. “You want to get choked in combat?”
Vynn pauses for a second, gives you a look, and then starts tucking the ends of the scarf into their chestplate. “I can’t tell if you’re being scandalous on purpose or not, $playername. But who cares about combat, really? The prince won’t pick me. Don’t want him to, anyway.”
“Right. Who cares, really?” You take another deep breath. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
“It’s going to be fine, stop worrying. You don’t honestly believe there’s anybody else even worth considering to be Champion?” Chocolate brown eyes regard you carefully. “You know you’re the best we have. And the prince likes you, I think.”
You appreciate the sentiment, but you just can’t bring yourself to calm down. Instead, you begin pacing up and down, armour clanking with every step. "I hope you are right, Vynn. I know, I know, you are <i>always</i> right.”
Vynn grins. “Well, if that’s settled then let’s get going.” <<set $lovemet to 2>>
[[Together, you leave your room and join the other soon-to-be knights in the entrance hall of the barracks.|Chapter2.2]]The sword at your neck disappears and the prince’s hand moves behind your back to steady you instead. You need it, you realise, as suddenly your vision starts getting fuzzy at the edges. “Adrenaline crash,” you say in apology as Prince Az’Lean keeps holding you upright.
The prince is saying something, and you imagine the crowd is probably cheering in response, even though they sound so very far away and muffled. You don’t think you’ve passed out, but you don’t remember everything that happen after you won. All the cheering and congratulations blur together into one slightly uncomfortable amount of attention. You know at some point your parents are there to hug you, and there’s lots of pats on the back and handshakes with the other knights until Vynn decides it’s been enough and drags you out of the crowd.
Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising, but you’re still startled when Prince Az’Lean follows the two of you. This is really happening. You’ll have to get used to him always being around you from now on.
“I figure we could use a minute to sit down and catch our breaths,” Vynn explains as the three of you head for one of the now abandoned benches outside the arena. It seems most have gotten up at this point, already engaged in other aspects of today’s festivities.
“They don’t understand how exhausting a drawn out battle like this can be,” the prince adds. “Though I don’t expect they’ll allow me to be absent from my own birthday celebration for long.”
“Just pretend like you’re talking to me about important Champion duties,” you say, still testing the waters of how informally you can speak to him. Uncertain, you quickly add: “Milord.”
“Those talks can wait until tomorrow,” Az’Lean says with a half-smile. You get the feeling he didn’t at all expect to actually appoint someone as his Champion, and now once again has to make up rules as he goes.
“That being said, I guess sincere congratulations are in order, $playername,” Vynn adds solemnly. “So… ‘Grats.”
Vynn and you stare at each other for a while before breaking out into huge grins. For them, there was never any doubt that you would win, so there’s no reason to make a big deal out of it. Meanwhile, Prince Az’Lean watches you two with mild interest.
After clearing his throat, he elects to move the conversation into a new direction. “Say, Chev Hollowpeann, do you have any preferences in regards to accommodations?”
Vynn blinks at the prince in barely hidden suspicion. “First of all, call me Vynn. Second, what do you mean ‘accommodations’?”
“Ah, I was just thinking that we not only need knights in the city, but in the castle as well. Since $playername will be moving to the castle, I thought you might want that as well. Or you could stay in the barracks in the city; it is up to you. Though, believe me when I say, you are more than qualified to join the castle knights, Vynn." A dazzling smile lights up Az’Leans face as he makes the proposition, a golden strand of hair falling into his face perfectly as he tilts his head. It almost seems intentional.
“Well, I did come in third, technically,” Vynn all but stutters. It seems even someone like them isn’t immune to Az’Lean’s princely charms. “Can I get some time to think about your most generous offer?”
The blinding smile disappears as quickly as the prince had summoned it. It’s replaced by amicable neutrality. “Naturally. I’ll make sure to ask you again in due time.”
You ponder the idea for a bit. Of course, you’d always envisioned yourself living at the castle from this point forward, but having Vynn join you there is an entirely new prospect. It might help you feel more at home, or it might distract you from your duties. It’s difficult to say.
Slowly but surely, your body manages to relax after the ordeal you’ve just put it through, and the atmosphere starts to change. The arena has been pretty much deserted at this point, only a few knights and servants remain to clean the place up. You can hear a mixture of chatter and muted music from somewhere closer to the castle.
“It seems like everyone else has moved on,” you say.
Vynn visibly perks up at that. “I should go and grab my lute before the feast starts. Getting out of this armour would be good too.”
Prince Az’Lean nods in agreement before turning towards you. “Will I be seeing you at the feast too, $playername?”
“Of course! It’ll be my birthday in a few hours as well, after all. I wouldn’t dream of missing it.” In addition to that, you could really use some sustenance after that fight. Maybe some booze, too.
The prince deigns to give you another half-smile. “Good. Your seat is the one to my left.”
“Oh! I mean, yes, that makes sense,” you answer quickly. Again something that probably shouldn’t be surprising but is simply too new and strange not to be.
The prince departs with an awkward wave from his giant black gauntlet, leaving you and Vynn to head back to the barracks to drop off your weapons and armour.
“Look at you, getting to sit with the cool kids,” they tease you.
That one was too weak to get a rise out of you. “No need to get jealous, Vynn,” you respond without missing a beat.
“Ha! If it gets too stuffy for you, I’ll be with the other musicians.”
“Got it.”
It’s still early in the day and you doubt the food for the feast is prepared yet. After changing out of your armour and freshening up a bit, there’s still more than enough time to do something else.
[[You decide to go see your parents.|Chapter2.11A]]
<<if $element == "fire">> [[You decide to go see Sir Asperame.|Chapter2.11B1]]<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> [[You decide to go see Lady Westwale.|Chapter2.11B2]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> [[You decide to go see Chev Minne.|Chapter2.11B3]]<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> [[You decide to go see Sir Stahlvart.|Chapter2.11B4]] <<endif>>\
[[There will be enough human interaction later. You decide to spend some time with the horses for now.|Chapter2.11C]]It doesn’t take long to find your parents among the other nobles milling about the castle courtyard. A few musicians have taken up the space beneath the canopy, playing soft ballads to create a soothing atmosphere – a stark contrast to the music they’ll be playing once the feast begins.
You smooth out your tunic to make sure you look presentable and start to cross the courtyard. It doesn’t take long for the other nobles to notice you, and not many of them have the decency to hide their staring. You’ll surely be the centre of attention tonight, whether you like it or not. It’s simply another new thing to get used to. Even though you’ve been a noble since birth, today your status has risen to a height that is really only outclassed by the royal family and their advisors.
From now on, people will more than likely attempt to get into your good graces and use you for their own personal gain, you realise a little bitterly. You’re not looking forward to having to deal with that.
Your parents notice you approach and only decorum stops your father from running towards you. A big grin splits his face and he seems to vibrate with pent up energy as you reach him. Immediately, he crushes you against him in a hug, your face being pressed into the furs of his coat that he wears despite the warm weather. “I knew you’d win, $playername. I just knew it!”
“We are so very proud of you,” your mother adds with a smile, though she refrains from any public display of affection. There isn’t a single wrinkle in her dark green linen dress and her hair is pulled back in a tight braid. “You performed amazingly, and I must add, your chemistry with the prince speaks for itself.”
You slowly extract yourself from your father’s embrace. “You think so?”
“Of course!” Your father pats your back, knocking the air right out of you. Despite his growing age and greying hair, he’s still as strong as ever. “You’re almost as good of a fighter as me when I was your age.”
Your mother shakes her head in delight. “That’s the highest praise he is capable of giving, even though he is wrong. You’re clearly much more agile and quick-witted, $playername.”
You can’t help but chuckle. “Traits I must have gotten from you, mother.”
“I won’t deny it,” your father concedes. “In any case, you’re more than living up to the Grahm name. I feel good about entrusting the future to your hands.”
You furrow your brow. “The future?”
“Tomorrow is your twenty-first birthday, after all,” your mother says. “Meaning you’re not only eligible for marriage, but for inheritance as well.”
Something cold runs through you at the thought of getting married or having your parents die. You don’t feel ready for any of that, even if you are an adult. “Mother, please, let’s not talk about that today. It’s such a morbid topic.”
<<if $pronoun == "his">> “He’s right, you know. Today is reserved for fun and festive conversations,” your father says softly. <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "her">> “She’s right, you know. Today is reserved for fun and festive conversations,” your father says softly. <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "their">> “They’re right, you know. Today is reserved for fun and festive conversations,” your father says softly. <<endif>>\
The three of you spend some time reminiscing, talking about your childhood and everything that led up to this. Your father talks at length about everything that changed in Grahm territory since you were last there and your mother indulges in gossiping about your fellow nobles. You, in turn, inform them about the newest happenings in Gaitanis and regale them with funny anecdotes about your and Vynn’s training.
Time passes quickly as you catch up with your parents and before you know it, the grand gates into the castle have been opened and the feast is about to begin. The musicians disappear first, followed by a long line of nobles and a few particularly affluent or important commoners.
“Shall we?” your mother asks, holding one arm out to you and the other to your father. You take up positions on either side of her and head into the castle as one.
Like sheep you are herded through the entrance hall with its many stone pillars, polished marble floor and impossibly high ceiling. You’ve been inside the castle a few times before, either for certain festivities like this one or as a squire sent to deliver something somewhere. It’s architecture never ceases to amaze you though. It must have taken decades to erect a castle of this size, even with magic.
Ignoring the staircases on the left and right, you are led straight through a set of oaken double doors into the banquet hall. Tapestries, woven tales of legend and history alike, line the walls inbetween long and thin windows, magical barriers spanning the width of them to allow only air to pass through and not insects or birds.
In the northern part of the hall is a stage for musicians and performers with plenty of empty room around it to accommodate for a dancing audience. A glittering chandelier hangs above the stage, though at this time of day the candles are not yet lit.
In the southern part of the hall are wooden tables, food and drink piled up high upon them. They are long and rectangular and arranged in a horse-shoe formation, allowing the head-table an unobstructed view of the stage.
You instantly spot King Az'Marn, sitting at the middle of the head table, crown on his head and goblet already in his hand. To his right is a chair forever left empty in memory of the dead queen. To his left sits Prince Az’Lean. The prince has exchanged his armour for a midnight blue silken doublet and black pantaloons. A golden pendant hangs around his neck and you can see him wearing various rings.
Your mother follows your line of sight. “Go on, then. You shouldn’t keep the prince waiting.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll come find you when it’s midnight. Can’t miss wishing you a happy birthday,” your father adds and gives you a little push towards the head table. It suddenly seems a bit daunting, sitting next to the royal family.
“You better not miss it! It’ll be moons before I see you again, so I expect a proper farewell before you leave,” you say and give your parents one last look before splitting off from them.
[[You take a deep breath before marching over to Prince Az’Lean.|2.12]]It doesn’t take long to find your trusted mentor leaning against one of the stone pillars in the castle’s entrance hall, watchful gaze lingering on servants and guests alike. It seems a knight truly is never off duty. You’ve been inside the castle a few times before, either for certain festivities like this one or as a squire sent to deliver something somewhere. It’s architecture never ceases to amaze you though, with its impossibly high ceiling and polished marble floor. It must have taken decades to erect a castle of this size, even with magic.
For the occasion, Sir Asperame has elected to wear a red tunic, as eye-catching as can be, even though it clashes somewhat with the colour of his hair and beard. Despite the warm weather his sleeves are long, likely to hide the burn marks on his arms – a reminder of a certain unfortunate incident a few years back.
He spots you immediately, a smile brightening up his face. “There you are, $playername! Congratulations on becoming the prince’s Champion. Truly, I had never any doubt.”
“It is all thanks to your guidance, Sir Asperame.” True gratitude warms your chest and you find yourself matching his smile.
Sir Asperame looks thoughtful for a second. “You did exceedingly well out there. I was very impressed with the swiftness of your fighting. It would complement the prince’s more head-on style very well, though it may not really be suited for defending him.”
“He said he doesn’t want to be protected like that anyway,” you say quickly. “He’s not the type to cower behind someone else’s shield.”
“And that’s what makes him a good future king, I suppose,” Sir Asperame says with a wry grin. “More trouble for you, though.”
You stand as tall as possible. “I can handle it.”
He barks a laugh at that. “Course you can, $playername. Though if you ever need advice or stuff like that, you know you can come to me.”
“I know, and I appreciate it a lot, Sir.” You can feel yourself already getting nostalgic for the past. “In some ways, I figure you’ll always be my mentor.”
He nods fiercely. “I sure hope so, kid. That kinda bond is for life, not just until you don’t need me anymore. Would be kinda sad, otherwise.”
“Everything will be different now,” you say with a sigh. It’s still a lot for you to process. “So I’m glad at least you’ll always be the same.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment, but thanks anyway.” He laughs again, eyes glinting warmly.
The two of you keep chatting for a little while, mostly discussing the earlier battle and reminiscing about the past. Slowly, the entrance hall is filling with more and more people, and Sir Asperame has to raise his voice for you to hear him.
“I suppose you should head to the banquet hall now. It’s going to get even more crowded from now on,” your mentor says and gives you a nudge.
“Then I’ll see you later,” you say with a wave and join the stream of nobles that has steadily been pouring into the entrance hall.
Ignoring the staircases on the left and right, you go straight through a set of oaken double doors into the banquet hall. Tapestries, woven tales of legend and history alike, line the walls inbetween long and thin windows, magical barriers spanning the width of them to allow only air to pass through and not insects or birds.
In the northern part of the hall is a stage for musicians and performers with plenty of empty room around it to accommodate for a dancing audience. A glittering chandelier hangs above the stage, though at this time of day the candles are not yet lit.
In the southern part of the hall are wooden tables, food and drink piled up high upon them. They are long and rectangular and arranged in a horse-shoe formation, allowing the head-table an unobstructed view of the stage.
You instantly spot King Gaiapeia, sitting at the middle of the head table, crown on his head and goblet already in his hand. To his right is a chair forever left empty in memory of the dead queen. To his left sits Prince Az’Lean. The prince has exchanged his armour for a midnight blue silken doublet and black pantaloons. A golden pendant hangs around his neck and you can see him wearing various rings.
The chair left of him is empty.
[[You take a deep breath before marching over to Prince Az’Lean.|2.12]]It doesn’t take long to find your trusted mentor leaning against one of the stone pillars in the castle’s entrance hall, watchful gaze lingering on servants and guests alike. It seems a knight truly is never off duty. You’ve been inside the castle a few times before, either for certain festivities like this one or as a squire sent to deliver something somewhere. It’s architecture never ceases to amaze you though, with its impossibly high ceiling and polished marble floor. It must have taken decades to erect a castle of this size, even with magic.
For the occasion, Lady Westwale has elected to wear a blue linen dress with wide open sleeves and intricate folds along her waist. Her silky hair is flowing freely down hair back, now a bit more grey than it is black – a reminder of her advancing age. There’s been talks about her retirement for a while now.
She spots you immediately, a smile brightening up her face. “There you are, $playername. Congratulations on becoming the prince’s Champion. Naturally, I had never any doubt.”
“It is all thanks to your thorough criticism, Lady Westwale.” You can’t help but smile. She had been berating you only yesterday, after all, though now you are thankful for it.
Lady Westwale looks thoughtful for a second. “You did exceedingly well out there. I was very impressed with your adaptability and quick thinking. It would complement the prince’s more head-on style very well, though it may take some time for him to adjust.”
“He said he doesn’t want to be protected by me,” you explain. “He’s not the type to cower behind someone else’s shield, so I hope we can fight side by side.”
“He does possess all the makings of a good future king, indeed,” Lady Westwale says with a satisfied nod. “More trouble for you, though.”
You stand as tall as possible. “I can handle it.”
She hides a laugh behind her hand. “Of course you can, $playername. Though if you ever find yourself in need of advice, you know you can always come to me.”
“I know, and I appreciate it a lot.” You can feel yourself already getting nostalgic for the past. “In some ways, I figure you’ll always be my mentor.”
She nods gently. “I would hope so, $playername. Our bond is for life, not just until you don’t need me anymore. Though from now on, we can speak more as equals.”
“Everything will be different now,” you say with a sigh. It’s still a lot for you to process. “So, I wouldn’t mind if you kept treating me like your student for a little while longer.”
“I can certainly arrange that, though I’m surprised anyone would wish for my strictness.” She laughs again, eyes glinting warmly.
The two of you keep chatting for a little while, mostly discussing the earlier battle and reminiscing about the past. Slowly, the entrance hall is filling with more and more people, and Lady Westwale has to raise her voice for you to hear her.
“I suppose you should head to the banquet hall now. It’s going to get even more crowded from now on,” your mentor says and gives you a nudge.
“Then I’ll see you later,” you say with a wave and join the stream of nobles that has steadily been pouring into the entrance hall.
Ignoring the staircases on the left and right, you go straight through a set of oaken double doors into the banquet hall. Tapestries, woven tales of legend and history alike, line the walls inbetween long and thin windows, magical barriers spanning the width of them to allow only air to pass through and not insects or birds.
In the northern part of the hall is a stage for musicians and performers with plenty of empty room around it to accommodate for a dancing audience. A glittering chandelier hangs above the stage, though at this time of day the candles are not yet lit.
In the southern part of the hall are wooden tables, food and drink piled up high upon them. They are long and rectangular and arranged in a horse-shoe formation, allowing the head-table an unobstructed view of the stage.
You instantly spot King Gaiapeia, sitting at the middle of the head table, crown on his head and goblet already in his hand. To his right is a chair forever left empty in memory of the dead queen. To his left sits Prince Az’Lean. The prince has exchanged his armour for a midnight blue silken doublet and black pantaloons. A golden pendant hangs around his neck and you can see him wearing various rings.
The chair left of him is empty.
[[You take a deep breath before marching over to Prince Az’Lean.|2.12]]It doesn’t take long to find your trusted mentor leaning against one of the stone pillars in the castle’s entrance hall, watchful gaze lingering on servants and guests alike. It seems a knight truly is never off duty. You’ve been inside the castle a few times before, either for certain festivities like this one or as a squire sent to deliver something somewhere. It’s architecture never ceases to amaze you though, with its impossibly high ceiling and polished marble floor. It must have taken decades to erect a castle of this size, even with magic.
For the occasion, Chev Minne has elected to wear a dark green leather brigandine – not quite the most appropriate attire for a celebration, but at least it wasn’t their usual full-plate armour. They even ditched the helmet, though their black hair is as short and unassuming as ever.
They spot you immediately, a rare smile brightening up their face. “There you are, $playername. Congratulations on becoming the prince’s Champion. Naturally, I never doubted it.”
“It is all thanks to your thorough criticism, Chev Minne.” You can’t help but smile. They had been berating you only yesterday, after all, but now you are truly grateful for it.
Chev Minne looks thoughtful for a second. “You did exceedingly well out there. I was very impressed by your determination and steadfastness. You truly embodied the protective spirit a Champion ought to have.
“The prince said he doesn’t want to be protected by me,” you explain quickly. “He’s not the type to cower behind someone else’s shield.”
“I suppose it is a commendable trait for him to have,” Chev Minne says with a shrug. “More trouble for you, though.”
You stand as tall as possible. “I can handle it.”
They hide a grin by turning their head away. “Of course you can, $playername. Though should you ever find yourself in need of advice, you know you can always come to me.”
“I know, and I appreciate it a lot.” You can feel yourself already getting nostalgic for the past. “In some ways, I figure you’ll always be my mentor.”
They nod curtly. “I would hope so, $playername. Our bond is for life, not just until you don’t need me anymore. We’re not as fickle as that.”
“Everything will be different now,” you say with a sigh. It’s still a lot for you to process. “So, I suppose I am glad that you won’t ever change.”
“That wasn’t a very good compliment, just so you’re aware.” They almost grin again, eyes glinting warmly.
The two of you keep chatting for a little while, mostly discussing the earlier battle and reminiscing about the past. Slowly, the entrance hall is filling with more and more people, and Chev Minne has to raise their voice for you to hear them.
“I suppose you should head to the banquet hall now. It’s going to get even more crowded from now on,” your mentor says and gives you a nudge.
“Then I’ll see you later,” you say with a wave and join the stream of nobles that has steadily been pouring into the entrance hall.
Ignoring the staircases on the left and right, you go straight through a set of oaken double doors into the banquet hall. Tapestries, woven tales of legend and history alike, line the walls inbetween long and thin windows, magical barriers spanning the width of them to allow only air to pass through and not insects or birds.
In the northern part of the hall is a stage for musicians and performers with plenty of empty room around it to accommodate for a dancing audience. A glittering chandelier hangs above the stage, though at this time of day the candles are not yet lit.
In the southern part of the hall are wooden tables, food and drink piled up high upon them. They are long and rectangular and arranged in a horse-shoe formation, allowing the head-table an unobstructed view of the stage.
You instantly spot King Gaiapeia, sitting at the middle of the head table, crown on his head and goblet already in his hand. To his right is a chair forever left empty in memory of the dead queen. To his left sits Prince Az’Lean. The prince has exchanged his armour for a midnight blue silken doublet and black pantaloons. A golden pendant hangs around his neck and you can see him wearing various rings.
The chair left of him is empty.
[[You take a deep breath before marching over to Prince Az’Lean.|2.12]]It doesn’t take long to find your trusted mentor leaning against one of the stone pillars in the castle’s entrance hall, watchful gaze lingering on servants and guests alike. It seems a knight truly is never off duty. You’ve been inside the castle a few times before, either for certain festivities like this one or as a squire sent to deliver something somewhere. It’s architecture never ceases to amaze you though, with its impossibly high ceiling and polished marble floor. It must have taken decades to erect a castle of this size, even with magic.
For the occasion, Sir Stahlvart has elected to wear a stark white frock with floral applications, making him look less like a knight and more like a priest of the Old Gods. His blond hair is tied into a loose braid that lays casually on his shoulder. Truthfully, he has gotten even more handsome in these recent years and is a source of envy for many – not that he cares.
He spots you immediately, a dazzling smile brightening up his face. “Ah, there you are, $playername! Congratulations on becoming the prince’s Champion. Why, I didn’t doubt it for a second.”
“It is all thanks to your guidance, Sir Stahlvart.” True gratitude warms your chest and you find yourself matching his smile.
Sir Stahlvart looks thoughtful for a second. “You did exceedingly well out there. Especially the way you dodged and feinted was truly magnificent! It might not be the fighting style one would expect form a Champion, but…”
“The prince said he doesn’t want to be protected by me,” you explain quickly. “He’s not the type to cower behind someone else’s shield. I’m hoping we can fight side by side instead.”
“How splendid! Quite romantic, even,” Sir Stahlvart says with a smirk. “More trouble for you, though.”
You stand as tall as possible. “I can handle it.”
His smirk widens. “Of course you do, $playername. Though should you ever find yourself in need of advice, you know you can always come to me. You shall have my support forevermore.”
“I know, and I appreciate it a lot.” You can feel yourself already getting nostalgic for the past. “In some ways, I figure you’ll always be my mentor.”
He nods, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “I would hope so, $playername. Our bond is for life, not just until you don’t need me anymore. Anything less would be most tragic.”
“Everything will be different now,” you say with a sigh. It’s still a lot for you to process. “So, I suppose I am glad that you won’t ever change.”
“I choose to take that as a compliment.” He smirks again, eyes glinting warmly.
The two of you keep chatting for a little while, mostly discussing the earlier battle and reminiscing about the past. Slowly, the entrance hall is filling with more and more people, and Sir Stahlvart has to raise his voice for you to hear him.
“I suppose you should head to the banquet hall now. It’s going to get even more crowded from now on,” your mentor says and gives you a nudge.
“Then I’ll see you later,” you say with a wave and join the stream of nobles that has steadily been pouring into the entrance hall.
Ignoring the staircases on the left and right, you go straight through a set of oaken double doors into the banquet hall. Tapestries, woven tales of legend and history alike, line the walls inbetween long and thin windows, magical barriers spanning the width of them to allow only air to pass through and not insects or birds.
In the northern part of the hall is a stage for musicians and performers with plenty of empty room around it to accommodate for a dancing audience. A glittering chandelier hangs above the stage, though at this time of day the candles are not yet lit.
In the southern part of the hall are wooden tables, food and drink piled up high upon them. They are long and rectangular and arranged in a horse-shoe formation, allowing the head-table an unobstructed view of the stage.
You instantly spot King Gaiapeia, sitting at the middle of the head table, crown on his head and goblet already in his hand. To his right is a chair forever left empty in memory of the dead queen. To his left sits Prince Az’Lean. The prince has exchanged his armour for a midnight blue silken doublet and black pantaloons. A golden pendant hangs around his neck and you can see him wearing various rings.
The chair left of him is empty.
[[You take a deep breath before marching over to Prince Az’Lean.|2.12]]<<set $horseinfo to "yes">>\
You find yourself seeking a respite from human interaction and head over to the stables instead. A few other people seem to have had the same idea, but it’s still much less crowded here. You feel like you can breathe easy when the familiar scent of hay and manure hits your nose. Some nobles might find such a place beneath them, but you feel right at home here.
The stables stretch along the entire eastern side of the castle walls, sectioned off into areas for packhorses, dressage horses, and war horses. You’re most familiar with the war horses, as those are the ones you have been training mounted combat with. As of right now, you don’t own a horse of your own, but there is one horse you’ve been favouring during training.
It doesn’t take long to find her – a beautiful, bay mare with a braided black mane called Faiche. Her temperament is very fierce and she can be a bit stubborn, but Faiche is one of the most intelligent animals you have ever met. As soon as you reach her, she turns her head in attention.
“Hey there, Faiche,” you greet as you let her nudge you with her head. “Guess what? I made it! I’m really, truly the prince’s Champion now.”
She whinnies excitedly as if she understood the meaning of your words, before lifting her head and turning it in a certain direction. She nickers as if to draw your attention to something specific.
You try to figure out what Faiche is looking at or what she wants you to see. Your eyes roam along the many boxes until you spot one that catches your interest. It is the prince’s horse, an enormous, pitch-black stallion.
“Are you…trying to introduce me?” You ask Faiche as you glance between her and the stallion. She nickers again.
“I guess we are going to be working together from now on, so…” With a shrug, you pat Faiche a few times before making your way over to the prince’s stallion.
As you get close, you notice how sleek and well groomed he is, and how much he towers over you. Black eyes peer down at you coolly, but otherwise the stallion remains perfectly still. As you look around some more, you spot a gilded nameplate on the wall next to the gate: Tàmh.
“So you are Tàmh, Prince Az’Lean’s horse? It is very nice to meet you. I am $playername,” you say softly.
Tàhm watches you with an almost judging gaze as you slowly raise your hand towards him. There is a moment of uncertainty before he finally deigns to nudge his head against your extended hand. He has to lean down quite a bit to do so.
You pet him gently, marvelling at the softness. “You are very imposing, Tàhm. As expected of a royal stallion, right?”
He neighs a little bit, almost shaking his head.
“You disagree? Maybe you don’t like people thinking you’re intimidating.”
Tàhm nickers and pulls away from your touch, staring down at you again. You wonder what you look like to him.
“Anyway, we’ll probably see each other often from now on. I work directly for Prince Az’Lean now, you know. I’m his Champion if you can believe it!”
You continue to spend some time with Faiche and Tàhm, talking idly about today’s events. Every now and then, you’ll get a few looks thrown your way but you don’t care. It’s obvious to you that they understand you at least on some level, so there is nothing at all weird about talking to horses. Besides, you’re having fun.
Eventually, however, you figure the feast is probably about to start soon and you make your way to the castle’s entrance hall. A large crowd of mostly nobles has already congregated there.
Like sheep you are herded through the entrance hall with its many stone pillars, polished marble floor and impossibly high ceiling. You’ve been inside the castle a few times before, either for certain festivities like this one or as a squire sent to deliver something somewhere. It’s architecture never ceases to amaze you though. It must have taken decades to erect a castle of this size, even with magic.
Ignoring the staircases on the left and right, you are led straight through a set of oaken double doors into the banquet hall. Tapestries, woven tales of legend and history alike, line the walls inbetween long and thin windows, magical barriers spanning the width of them to allow only air to pass through and not insects or birds.
In the northern part of the hall is a stage for musicians and performers with plenty of empty room around it to accommodate for a dancing audience. A glittering chandelier hangs above the stage, though at this time of day the candles are not yet lit.
In the southern part of the hall are wooden tables, food and drink piled up high upon them. They are long and rectangular and arranged in a horse-shoe formation, allowing the head-table an unobstructed view of the stage.
You instantly spot King Gaiapeia, sitting at the middle of the head table, crown on his head and goblet already in his hand. To his right is a chair forever left empty in memory of the dead queen. To his left sits Prince Az’Lean. The prince has exchanged his armour for a midnight blue silken doublet and black pantaloons. A golden pendant hangs around his neck and you can see him wearing various rings.
The chair left of him is empty.
[[You take a deep breath before marching over to Prince Az’Lean.|2.12]]<<set $bloodsteelinfo to "yes">>\
He perks up at your question about his gauntlet, but it seems like he needs a moment to gather his thoughts and decide how to answer. A noblewoman takes the seat to your left and the screeching of her chair seems to pull Az’Lean from his thoughts.
“That gauntlet is indeed special. You see, it and all of my armour in fact, are made from blood steel.”
You almost choke on the roasted potato you just shoved into your mouth. “That- That is a lot of blood steel.” It must have taken dozens of litres of blood to make an entire armour set, and you are too afraid to ask for more details. Some questions are better left unanswered.
Az’Lean nods. “Indeed. Worry not though, I used my own blood to make it over a few years, so no one was harmed in the process.”
“It sounds like <i>you</i> were harmed. A lot and for a long time,” you say, suddenly concerned.
He stares at you, expression shuttering immediately. “Don’t worry, I have access to the finest healers. They can draw blood so gently that you don’t even notice it. Besides, the advantages of blood steel are more than worth it.”
“It’s for fighting fae, right?” As far as you are aware, blood steel is the metal that hurts them the most. For some types of fae it is even dangerous to simply be around it, or it acts as a repellent.
“Exactly. One scratch from my gauntlet is usually all it takes. Most of them cannot even touch the armour.” He looks proud at that and you can’t deny it sounds quite powerful. The dedication to draw that much blood, however…
“Have you fought a lot of fae?” you ask.
Az’Lean signals one of the servants to bring you a pitcher of wine. “No, admittedly. I don’t usually get the chance to travel far outside of Gaitanis, but every once in a while, they breech the city. What about you?”
“I’ve fought a few during my training, but not many. A Cait Sith here and a Kelpie there. Worst I’ve encountered so far was a lone Banshee on my way back from Grahm territory. At first, I thought she was just some woman, and it’s very different to fight fae that look… human. It was my first bandit all over again.”
You notice that Az’Lean is listening to you with rapt attention as he sips delicately from his goblet.
“I can certainly understand that,” he says. “The more human they look, the more dangerous they are, usually, and one gets bewitched into letting their guard down.”
There is a lull in conversation for a moment and you wonder whether you should’ve asked something else instead.
“Wine?” Az’Lean asks suddenly.
Now that you’ve started eating, it should be fine. “Yes, please.”
You watch the stage for a moment, smiling to yourself as you notice Vynn sitting on the edge of it, lute in hand. They aren’t playing just yet, instead locked in conversation with Lady Westwale, who is standing next to them with a tankard of ale.
“Can I ask you something, $playername?” Az’Lean’s voice immediately commands your full attention once more.
“Of course, ask away.”
He gives you a half-smile. “What do you do to unwind? I figure it’s a useful thing for me to know.”
[[“I enjoy tending to the horses. The presence of animals is very calming.”|Chapter2.14A]]
[[“I like to read. I’m not a scholar, or anything, I just really like stories.”|Chapter2.14B]]
[[“Playing chess is one of my favourite past times, though there aren’t many people who like to indulge me.”|Chapter2.14C]]<<set $artinfo to "yes">>\
An amused glint appears in his eyes at your question about his hobbies.
“It is true that I don’t usually have a lot of time to spend on leisure. My duties as a prince keep me busy enough, and I spend a lot of my time on combat training. But on those rare occasions where I truly get to enjoy my free time, there’s a few different things I like to do.”
You listen to him with rapt attention, blocking out the loud laughter from the noblewoman sitting to your left and the constant clanging and screeching of silverware.
Az’Lean takes a sip from his goblet and continues. “Hunting, for one, or simply going on a ride. I also enjoy a bit of falconry every now and then. But all of those things feel too close to my usual duties to really consider them hobbies. There is one more thing, however…”
He trails off, eyes straying from you for a second. Does he not want to say, or is he getting distracted?
You quietly wait for him to continue. Maybe he simply needs to gather his thoughts, and who are you to interrupt the prince? Az’Lean clears his throat apologetically just a second later, his gaze meeting yours before continuing.
“It’s just- This might be hard to believe, and it doesn’t really fit my image, but… Well, I like to paint. It helps me to sort my thoughts and express myself, I guess.” He sounds almost sheepish, but you think there’s no need for that. Art is a perfectly valid hobby for a prince to have, in your opinion.
“What kind of paintings do you do? Landscapes, portraits, or something else?” You aren’t an expert in art by any means, though your parents possess a few renowned pieces and you’ve had to sit for a family portrait a few years ago.
Az’Lean all but grimaces a little. “No, they’re more…abstract, I guess you’d say. They are not exactly fit to be viewed by other people.”
“Don’t say that, I’m sure they’re great,” you say and offer him a genuine smile.
“It’s not the quality I’m concerned with,” he says and you can see his expression shuttering.
You feel like this is probably the point where you should stop prying. Tempting as it is to ask for clarification, you can guess what the answer will be. If it isn’t the quality, it must be the content. So if he doesn’t want other people seeing it, it is either personal or graphic. Maybe both.
There is a lull in conversation for a moment and you wonder whether you should’ve asked something else instead. You busy yourself with heaping roasted potatoes onto your plate.
“Wine?” Az’Lean asks suddenly.
Now that you’ve started eating, it should be fine. “Yes, please.”
You watch the stage for a moment, smiling to yourself as you notice Vynn sitting on the edge of it, lute in hand. They aren’t playing just yet, instead locked in conversation with Lady Westwale, who is standing next to them with a tankard of ale.
“Can I ask you something in return, $playername?” Az’Lean’s voice immediately commands your full attention once more.
“Of course, ask away.”
He gives you a half-smile. “What do you do to unwind? It’s only fair you tell me.”
[[“I enjoy tending to the horses. The presence of animals is very calming.”|Chapter2.14A]]
[[“I like to read. I’m not a scholar, or anything, I just really like stories.”|Chapter2.14B]]
[[“Playing chess is one of my favourite past times, though there aren’t many people who like to indulge me.”|Chapter2.14C]]He chuckles wryly at your question. “I don’t know if it’s obvious or not, but I’m not one for parties. It’s loud and there are so many people, it’s hard to keep track of everything.”
You let your gaze wander across the many people around you, all talking, eating, or moving around. It really is a lot of information to take in if you’re not adept at filtering it. “I suppose I can sympathize with that,” you say. “I remember how overwhelmed I was when I first started living in Gaitanis – a big city like this presents its own challenges. I still hope you’re enjoying yourself somewhat, this being your birthday and all.”
Az’Lean takes a sip from his goblet and nods. Now that you are paying attention to it, you notice a certain rigidness to his posture and how his eyes dart around searchingly. “I do enjoy the food and the music. It just doesn’t feel safe, being among so many people I barely know,” he says.
Your chest constricts a little at that. “I’m with you now, and I hope that my presence will be a comforting one, at some point. I feel like that’s the least I should be able to do. Not just keep you safe, but make you feel safe too.”
His eyes widen a little in surprise, just before his expression shutters completely. “I appreciate that, $playername. I just wish there wasn’t any reason for it in the first place.” Clearly unwilling to speak further on that subject, Az’Lean starts chewing on a piece of bread.
There is a noticeable lull in your conversation for a moment and you wonder whether you should’ve asked something else instead. It hadn’t been your intention to talk about something that made him uncomfortable, but then again talking about it is the only way to get to know him and avoid such topics in the future. To dispel the sudden awkwardness, you busy yourself with heaping roasted potatoes onto your plate.
“Wine?” Az’Lean asks suddenly.
Now that you’ve started eating, it should be fine. “Yes, please.”
You watch the stage for a moment, smiling to yourself as you notice Vynn sitting on the edge of it, lute in hand. They aren’t playing just yet, instead locked in conversation with Lady Westwale, who is standing next to them with a tankard of ale.
“Can I ask you something, $playername?” Az’Lean’s voice immediately commands your full attention once more.
“Of course, ask away.”
He gives you a half-smile. “What do you do to unwind? I suppose it’s a useful thing for me to know.”
[[“I enjoy tending to the horses. The presence of animals is very calming.”|Chapter2.14A]]
[[“I like to read. I’m not a scholar, or anything, I just really like stories.”|Chapter2.14B]]
[[“Playing chess is one of my favourite past times, though there aren’t many people who like to indulge me.”|Chapter2.14C]]<<set $hobby to "animals">>\
“Spending time with animals really does mend one’s soul, doesn’t it?” Az’Lean looks contemplative for a moment. “I’m training a falcon and a few hounds at the moment. Maybe you would like to join me sometime? I’m not trying to saddle you with more work, I just thought it’s an activity we could do together.”
“I would enjoy that,” you say. “It would be good to be familiar with your animals, and it sounds like a lot of fun.”
His eyes light up instantly. “I’m happy to hear that. I’m sure the next few days will be plenty busy for the both of us, but maybe we’ll find some time after that.”
The two of you keep talking about animal care for a while as the feast continues. You learn that Az’Lean is especially fond of all types of birds, but that he has a tendency to spook them away. He’s secretly been training to walk more stealthily, with little success.
Meanwhile, as you continue eating and sipping wine, different musicians and bards take up the stage to give their best performances. It ranges from sappy love ballads to upbeat drumming, and at some point Vynn joins in on the action, happily strumming their lute as they sing along. More and more people abandon their seat at the tables, choosing to mingle in front of the stage instead. You can even spot your parents among them, dancing hand in hand.
Az’Lean has started chatting with the king. You don’t really feel comfortable butting in on their conversation, so you contemplate getting up as well. The prince must have noticed your hesitation because he gestures towards the stage with a go-ahead motion.
Even though you don’t feel great about just leaving his side, you figure it should be fine for a little while. As you make your way along the side of the banquet hall, a servant presses a tankard of ale into your hand as you pass them, and you accept it with a startled laugh.
Drink in hand, you slip through to the very edge of the stage, where Vynn is moving rhythmically to the beat of the drums, their lute tucked beneath their arm.
“$playername!” they shout as you approach. “Grown bored of the prince yet?”
[[“Talking to him isn’t bad, but I prefer your company.”|Chapter2.15A]]
[[“I actually really enjoy talking to him. He’s intriguing.”|Chapter2.15B]]
[[You just shrug noncommittally and take a swig from your ale.|Chapter2.15C]]<<set $hobby to "reading">>\
“Reading is an excellent way to broaden one’s horizons. I usually don’t get to read much fiction, though.” Az’Lean looks contemplative for a moment. “Maybe you could give me some recommendations some time? I think it might be fun to have someone to discuss the stories with. Ah, but don’t feel obligated! I get it might be a personal activity for you.”
“Sharing some of my favourites with you might be fun,” you say. “It’s just another way to get to know each other, right?”
His eyes light up instantly. “I’m happy to hear that. I think I would enjoy a good adventure story the most, but I’m open to try anything.”
The two of you keep talking about books for a while as the feast continues. You learn that Az’Lean is well read in topics like history and military strategy, but that he misses the stories that used to be read to him when he was a child.
Meanwhile, as you continue eating and sipping wine, different musicians and bards take up the stage to give their best performances. It ranges from sappy love ballads to upbeat drumming, and at some point Vynn joins in on the action, happily strumming their lute as they sing along. More and more people abandon their seat at the tables, choosing to mingle in front of the stage instead. You can even spot your parents among them, dancing hand in hand.
Az’Lean has started chatting with the king. You don’t really feel comfortable butting in on their conversation, so you contemplate getting up as well. The prince must have noticed your hesitation because he gestures towards the stage with a go-ahead motion.
Even though you don’t feel great about just leaving his side, you figure it should be fine for a little while. As you make your way along the side of the banquet hall, a servant presses a tankard of ale into your hand as you pass them, and you accept it with a startled laugh.
Drink in hand, you slip through to the very edge of the stage, where Vynn is moving rhythmically to the beat of the drums, their lute tucked beneath their arm.
“$playername!” they shout as you approach. “Grown bored of the prince yet?”
[[“Talking to him isn’t bad, but I prefer your company.”|Chapter2.15A]]
[[“I actually really enjoy talking to him. He’s intriguing.”|Chapter2.15B]]
[[You just shrug noncommittally and take a swig from your ale.|Chapter2.15C]]<<set $hobby to "chess">>\
“Playing chess is an excellent way to sharpen one’s mind. I play it with my father sometimes.” Az’Lean looks contemplative for a moment. “I’m not very good at it, but maybe you would be interested in a match sometime? You don’t have to, of course, I get it might not be fun having to play against someone who is much worse than you.”
“I would love to play chess with you,” you say. “I’m sure if we played regularly, you’d be on my level in no time.”
His eyes light up instantly. “I’m happy to hear that. I’m sure the next few days will be plenty busy for the both us, but maybe we can find some time in the evenings.”
The two of you keep talking about chess for a while as the feast continues. You learn that Az’Lean possesses an enchanted chess set where the pieces move as if they're alive, including fighting each other. You don’t know what to feel about that.
Meanwhile, as you continue eating and sipping wine, different musicians and bards take up the stage to give their best performances. It ranges from sappy love ballads to upbeat drumming, and at some point Vynn joins in on the action, happily strumming their lute as they sing along. More and more people abandon their seat at the tables, choosing to mingle in front of the stage instead. You can even spot your parents among them, dancing hand in hand.
Az’Lean has started chatting with the king. You don’t really feel comfortable butting in on their conversation, so you contemplate getting up as well. The prince must have noticed your hesitation because he gestures towards the stage with a go-ahead motion.
Even though you don’t feel great about just leaving his side, you figure it should be fine for a little while. As you make your way along the side of the banquet hall, a servant presses a tankard of ale into your hand as you pass them, and you accept it with a startled laugh.
Drink in hand, you slip through to the very edge of the stage, where Vynn is moving rhythmically to the beat of the drums, their lute tucked beneath their arm.
“$playername!” they shout as you approach. “Grown bored of the prince yet?”
[[“Talking to him isn’t bad, but I prefer your company.”|Chapter2.15A]]
[[“I actually really enjoy talking to him. He’s intriguing.”|Chapter2.15B]]
[[You just shrug noncommittally and take a swig from your ale.|Chapter2.15C]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5 >>\
“That’s sweet of you to say!” Vynn keeps shouting even though you are standing right next to them at this point. Clearly, they’ve had quite a bit to drink already. “I was hoping you’d come over. I want to be right next to you when the clock strikes midnight, so I can be the first one to wish you a happy birthday.”
“It’s still a few hours until then and you’re already starting to slur your words,” you tease.
Vynn grins at you. “And you aren’t slurring your words enough!”
You take a swig from your ale to humour them, and they immediately start cheering once you do.
You and Vynn continue chatting as you enjoy the music and atmosphere of levity around you. Time moves faster the more you enjoy yourself – doubly so after you’ve emptied your tankard. As the night progresses, you find yourself being dragged into a dance with Lady Westwale, being regaled with epic stories by your increasingly drunk father, and serenaded with a variety of birthday songs by Vynn. At some point, Prince Az’Lean joins you in the crowd of people, although a bit more reservedly.
Once midnight strikes, you find yourself surrounded by all the people you care about in your life. The first to congratulate you is Vynn, followed immediately by a crushing bearhug from your father and a pat on the head from your mother. Next up are all your fellow knights, jostling you and cheering in a ring around you. Az’Lean catches your eye during all the laughter and excitement, and although you can’t hear him, you don’t need to be able to read lips to know that he wished you a happy birthday as well.
You feel so happy it makes your cheeks hurt from smiling. Maybe it’s the alcohol, the atmosphere, or something else, but everything seems to dissolve in a haze of pure bliss. The details seem to blur together as you keep celebrating into the night. A few times, you lose track of the time and of where people are, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
[[It’s so much fun!|Chapter2.16]]“Intriguing, huh?” Vynn keeps shouting even through you are standing right next to them at this point. Clearly, they’ve had quite a bit to drink already. “You’re not wrong, I guess. I’ve been thinking something along those lines earlier – that he has layers or something like that. I bet you want to peel back <i>all</i> his layers, right?”
They start wriggling their eyebrows at you suggestively and you’re not sure how to react.
“One pint of ale and you’re already getting obscene,” you say with a mock sigh.
Vynn laughs. “Maybe my company would be more tolerable if you drank some more!”
You take a swig from your ale to humour them, and they immediately start cheering once you do.
You and Vynn continue chatting as you enjoy the music and atmosphere of levity around you. Time moves faster the more you enjoy yourself – doubly so after you’ve emptied your tankard. As the night progresses, you find yourself being dragged into a dance with Lady Westwale, being regaled with epic stories by your increasingly drunk father, and serenaded with a variety of birthday songs by Vynn. At some point, Prince Az’Lean joins you in the crowd of people, although a bit more reservedly.
Once midnight strikes, you find yourself surrounded by all the people you care about in your life. The first to congratulate you is Vynn, followed immediately by a crushing bearhug from your father and a pat on the head from your mother. Next up are all your fellow knights, jostling you and cheering in a ring around you. Az’Lean catches your eye during all the laughter and excitement, and although you can’t hear him, you don’t need to be able to read lips to know that he wished you a happy birthday as well.
You feel so happy it makes your cheeks hurt from smiling. Maybe it’s the alcohol, the atmosphere, or something else, but everything seems to dissolve in a haze of pure bliss. The details seem to blur together as you keep celebrating into the night. A few times, you lose track of the time and of where people are, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
[[It’s so much fun!|Chapter2.16]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5 >>\
“What, did you already do all the talking you can muster for today?” Vynn keeps shouting even through you are standing right next to them at this point. Clearly, they’ve had quite a bit to drink already. “Well, don’t worry! I’ll talk enough for the both of us.”
“I see the alcohol has already loosened your tongue, Vynn. The sun’s barely gone down,” you tease.
Vynn grins at you. “It’s never too early for some drunken revelry. Though I suppose I should pace myself to make sure I don’t pass out before midnight. Wouldn’t want to miss your birthday, after all.”
“How very thoughtful of you.”
You and Vynn continue chatting as you enjoy the music and atmosphere of levity around you. Time moves faster the more you enjoy yourself – doubly so after you’ve emptied your tankard. As the night progresses, you find yourself being dragged into a dance with Lady Westwale, being regaled with epic stories by your increasingly drunk father, and serenaded with a variety of birthday songs by Vynn. At some point, Prince Az’Lean joins you in the crowd of people, although a bit more reservedly.
Once midnight strikes, you find yourself surrounded by all the people you care about in your life. The first to congratulate you is Vynn, followed immediately by a crushing bearhug from your father and a pat on the head from your mother. Next up are all your fellow knights, jostling you and cheering in a ring around you. Az’Lean catches your eye during all the laughter and excitement, and although you can’t hear him, you don’t need to be able to read lips to know that he wished you a happy birthday as well.
You feel so happy it makes your cheeks hurt from smiling. Maybe it’s the alcohol, the atmosphere, or something else, but everything seems to dissolve in a haze of pure bliss. The details seem to blur together as you keep celebrating into the night. A few times, you lose track of the time and of where people are, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
[[It’s so much fun!|Chapter2.16]]You don’t really remember how it happened, but at some point during the night, you find yourself outside in the castle gardens. There was probably a reason for it, like needing fresh air or some time alone, but you can’t quite recall any specifics. The gardens are beautiful anyhow, white roses basking in the moonlight, the sweet scent of magnolias wafting through the warm air, and a large weeping willow towering in the centre like a peaceful guardian. It’s serene – almost otherworldly.
You can still hear the music and chatter from inside the castle, faintly as though it were happening in a memory at the back of your mind. Mere background noise. Slowly, you wander towards the weeping willow as if drawn to it. It is a magnificent tree, surely at least a century old and reaching across the sky. During daytime it would provide a lot of shade and you decide to come back here when the sun is particularly scorching.
The wind rustles through the willow’s branches like a whisper – a hush of hidden secrets. The smell of it is dizzying, in a good way, and you close your eyes for the briefest moments, revelling in it.
When you open them again, a woman is casually leaning against the trunk. She had decidedly not been there a second ago, so you can’t help but stumble backwards in surprise.
“Where did you come from all of a-“ The words die in your throat as you take in her appearance.
She is tall and imposing, ample muscle hiding beneath soft curves. Her skin is a distinct olive colour, warm even in the moonlight, though you can detect some darker markings on her shoulders and arms – the only parts of her body not hidden behind a flowing white gown. Her face is soft yet striking, her eyes almost pure black and distinctly not human. The oddest thing, however, is her hair the colour of cherry blossoms, flowing around her head as if it were weightless, or as if she were suspended underwater.
The woman grins broadly and her teeth are razor sharp. “I meant to startle you,” she says. Her voice is pure sugar.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she’s fae, and your hand finds the hilt of the small knife on your belt. You realise with growing horror that it’s the only weapon you have and that you’re exhausted, inebriated and not at all what you’d consider fighting fit. The best thing to do would be to run and alert the other knights, but you doubt she’d give you the chance.
Instead of bolting immediately, you take a step back, inching your way towards the entrance to the castle without alerting her to your intentions.
“Who are you? What do you want?” you ask to distract her and keep her from attacking you.
She claps her hands together and you notice that her fingernails look like polished quartz. “Introductions, how lovely. My name is Lady Maeve, an esteemed member of the Seelie Court and the Second Dryad Duchess. Charmed, I’m sure.”
You stare at her in suspicion. Not only is she fae, but a powerful one by the sounds of it.
She keeps grinning, hands excitedly clasped in front of her chest. “Now it’s your turn!”
You hesitate, unsure how to proceed.
Lady Maeve wrinkles her nose at you. “You have to introduce yourself, even if I already know who you are. It’s the rules.”
[[“You know who I am? How?”|Chapter2.17A]]
[[You refuse to introduce yourself.|Chapter2.17B]]
[[You really don't want to antagonise her, so you introduce yourself politely.|Chapter2.17C]]“That’s what I’m here to discuss with you, $playername Grahm”, the dryad says with a frown. “It is rude not to introduce yourself, but I understand that these must be confusing circumstances.”
She knows who you are and she’s here for you. You aren’t sure whether you should be relieved that she’s after you and not the prince or not – it’s unexpected to say the least. Despite everything, you can’t help but feel intrigued. That doesn’t mean you let your guard down even for a second, but you don’t try to run just yet. This isn’t something you can ignore.
You level Lady Maeve with a cautious glare. “Explain yourself.”
She doesn’t seem to like your tone, but nods. “Allow me to explain.”
With grand gestures and a hypnotising lilt to her voice, she launches into a tale that leaves your very core crumbling and shaking with every word that leaves her lips:
“Are you familiar with changelings? They are a very special kind of fae that can change their appearance to that of a human at will. An enviable power, being able to look like any kind of human and blend in perfectly among them. Although changelings can look and age and act like humans, they are fae, make no mistake. They aren’t quite as vulnerable to metals, but they do hurt and weaken them. They are able to eat fae food and listen to fae music, they can use fae magic provided they are taught how, and they have a natural affinity for all manner of beasts and nature. If a changeling were to live among humans, it’d not be impossible to discover them, though it would be challenging. The best way to smuggle a changeling into human society is at birth – swapping a human new-born for a changeling new-born. Who would be able to tell the difference?”
“What does any of that have to do with me?” you interrupt her, though your breath catches in your throat as you do. You can guess what she is getting at, but it’s nothing short of ridiculous.
“Don’t be alarmed, but you are one such creature, dear $playername. A changeling inserted into an unassuming human family at birth. Please, feel free to sit down for a moment if you need to. It’s a lot to process, I’m sure.” Lady Maeve smiles sweetly.
Your face turns into a stony mask, not giving anything away. “I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I fully expected that kind of reaction,” Lady Maeve admits. “So, let’s work through this together. Today is your twenty-first birthday, correct? And you were chosen as the prince’s Champion! Seems like fate, doesn’t it? Sorry to say, but there’s more to it than that. You were chosen for this role by the Seelie Court, that’s why they placed you among the Grahm family, to hopefully end up here one day.”
You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “That’s ridiculous. My parents are clearly my parents – they’d know if I weren’t their child. There’s no way they’d be fooled.”
Lady Maeve shrugs, unbothered by your protest. “Humans are fooled all the time, as is the point of changelings. Although maybe they did notice. Mothers usually have a sort of intuition when it comes to their children. They know when they are…off.”
You think about the way your mother has always been a bit distant with you, shying away from physical affection. Telling you to behave, trying to get you to be proper – were you an unruly, mischievous child? You don’t remember.
That type of relationship isn’t uncommon among noblewomen and their children, however.
[[“There is no way they aren’t my parents. You’re lying.”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[“This is ridiculous. Stop lying. Stop trying to confuse me!”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it. STOP LYING.”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[Something ugly and dark rears its head within you. You let doubt take hold.|Chapter2.18B]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve - 5>>\
You take another step backwards; all your muscles are taut, and you’re poised to strike or run should you need to. She is clearly an enemy, and you know that fae can be tricky with their bewitching words, so you refuse to talk to her.
“I didn’t expect you to be so rude, $playername Grahm,” the dryad says with a frown. “There are things to be discussed and I hope to do it civilly.”
Your blood runs cold at the realisation that she knows you and she’s here for <i>you</i>. It should be a relief that she’s not after the prince, but it isn’t it. However, it also isn’t something you can simply ignore. You don’t let your guard down for a second, but you refrain from running for now.
“Explain yourself,” you grit out between clenched teeth. “Now.”
She hides her annoyance behind a thin smile. “Allow me to enlighten you.”
With grand gestures and a hypnotising lilt to her voice, she launches into a tale that leaves your very core crumbling and shaking with every word that leaves her lips:
“Are you familiar with changelings? They are a very special kind of fae that can change their appearance to that of a human at will. An enviable power, being able to look like any kind of human and blend in perfectly among them. Although changelings can look and age and act like humans, they are fae, make no mistake. They aren’t quite as vulnerable to metals, but they do hurt and weaken them. They are able to eat fae food and listen to fae music, they can use fae magic provided they are taught how, and they have a natural affinity for all manner of beasts and nature. If a changeling were to live among humans, it’d not be impossible to discover them, though it would be challenging. The best way to smuggle a changeling into human society as at birth – swapping a human new-born for a changeling new-born. Who would be able to tell the difference?”
“What does any of that have to do with me?” you interrupt her, though your breath catches in your throat as you do. You can guess what she is getting at, but it’s nothing short of ridiculous.
“Don’t be alarmed, but you are one such creature, dear $playername. A changeling inserted into an unassuming human family at birth. Please, feel free to sit down for a moment if you need to. It’s a lot to process, I’m sure.” Lady Maeve smiles sweetly.
Your face turns into a stony mask, not giving anything away. “I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I fully expected that kind of reaction,” Lady Maeve admits. “So, let’s work through this together. Today is your twenty-first birthday, correct? And you were chosen as the prince’s Champion! Seems like fate, doesn’t it? Sorry to say, but there’s more to it than that. You were chosen for this role by the Seelie Court, that’s why they placed you among the Grahm family, to hopefully end up here one day.”
You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “That’s ridiculous. My parents are clearly my parents – they’d know if I weren’t their child. There’s no way they’d be fooled.”
Lady Maeve shrugs, unbothered by your protest. “Humans are fooled all the time, as is the point of changelings. Although maybe they did notice. Mothers usually have a sort of intuition when it comes to their children. They know when they are…off.”
You think about the way your mother has always been a bit distant with you, shying away from physical affection. Telling you to behave, trying to get you to be proper – were you an unruly, mischievous child? You don’t remember.
That type of relationship isn’t uncommon among noblewomen and their children, however.
[[“There is no way they aren’t my parents. You’re lying.”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[“This is ridiculous. Stop lying. Stop trying to confuse me!”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it. STOP LYING.”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[Something ugly and dark rears it’s head within you. You let doubt take hold.|Chapter2.18B]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 5>>\
"My name is $playername Grahm. Pleased to meet you."
You don’t smile while you introduce yourself, but you try to remain somewhat civil at least. In your current situation, it might be best to play along as you slowly continue inching backwards.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Lady Maeve says, looking pleased.
“So, you already know who I am?” You didn’t think you had any kind of reputation among the fae, being a young and inexperienced knight, but you wouldn’t put it past them to be informed about all kinds of things. Fae are famously fond of rumours, after all.
Lady Maeve tilts her head. “Naturally I do, which brings me to my reason for being here.”
You stare at her cautiously, your blood running cold at the implication that she is in fact here for you, and not to attack the prince or anyone else. “Explain what you mean by that.”
“Gladly.” With grand gestures and a hypnotising lilt to her voice, she launches into a tale that leaves your very core crumbling and shaking with every word that leaves her lips:
“Are you familiar with changelings? They are a very special kind of fae that can change their appearance to that of a human at will. An enviable power, being able to look like any kind of human and blend in perfectly among them. Although changelings can look and age and act like humans, they are fae, make no mistake. They aren’t quite as vulnerable to metals, but they do hurt and weaken them. They are able to eat fae food and listen to fae music, they can use fae magic provided they are taught how, and they have a natural affinity for all manner of beasts and nature. If a changeling were to live among humans, it’d not be impossible to discover them, though it would be challenging. The best way to smuggle a changeling into human society as at birth – swapping a human new-born for a changeling new-born. Who would be able to tell the difference?”
“What does any of that have to do with me?” you interrupt her, though your breath catches in your throat as you do. You can guess what she is getting at, but it’s nothing short of ridiculous.
“Don’t be alarmed, but you are one such creature, dear $playername. A changeling inserted into an unassuming human family at birth. Please, feel free to sit down for a moment if you need to. It’s a lot to process, I’m sure.” Lady Maeve smiles sweetly.
Your face turns into a stony mask, not giving anything away. “I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I fully expected that kind of reaction,” Lady Maeve admits. “So, let’s work through this together. Today is your twenty-first birthday, correct? And you were chosen as the prince’s Champion! Seems like fate, doesn’t it? Sorry to say, but there’s more to it than that. You were chosen for this role by the Seelie Court, that’s why they placed you among the Grahm family, to hopefully end up here one day.”
You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “That’s ridiculous. My parents are clearly my parents – they’d know if I weren’t their child. There’s no way they’d be fooled.”
Lady Maeve shrugs, unbothered by your protest. “Humans are fooled all the time, as is the point of changelings. Although maybe they did notice. Mothers usually have a sort of intuition when it comes to their children. They know when they are…off.”
You think about the way your mother has always been a bit distant with you, shying away from physical affection. Telling you to behave, trying to get you to be proper – were you an unruly, mischievous child? You don’t remember.
That type of relationship isn’t uncommon among noblewomen and their children, however.
[[“There is no way they aren’t my parents. You’re lying.”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[“This is ridiculous. Stop lying. Stop trying to confuse me!”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it. STOP LYING.”|Chapter2.18A]]
[[Something ugly and dark rears it’s head within you. You let doubt take hold.|Chapter2.18B]]“Then what about your aversion to metal? We both know you’re struggling with it. It hurts to touch it, doesn’t it? I would wager that you don’t know anybody else who has that problem and nothing a doctor or a healer has suggested has worked so far. It should be a dead giveaway that you are <i>fae</i>, at the very least, and here I am, telling you exactly what you are – so what reason is there not to believe me?”
You are unable to judge the expression on her face. Lady Maeve might have looked earnest in that moment, but you can barely make her out. You are starting to lose your grip, your focus, slowly drowning in mounting panic. Your chest hurts and you realise that your breathing is off.
“It’s not that bad. Not as bad as it would be for a fae,” you press out, unsure why you’re even arguing the point. Still, you feel like you need to prove it, so you reach for the knife at your belt, drawing it with shaking hands. Lady Maeve doesn’t seem alarmed by your actions, simply watching with curiosity as you take off one of your gloves and lay a finger against the steel blade. It prickles and itches immediately, but it isn’t unbearable and it doesn’t feel like it’s sapping your strength.
“There, see?” You keep your finger resolutely pressed against your knife, unwilling to back down. It doesn’t hurt, so there’s nothing wrong with you. She is very clearly lying.
“Impressive,” she says and it isn’t at all the reaction you wanted. “You must have been working studiously on your resilience.”
Anger begins rolling around in your stomach as you sheathe your knife again. Your palms are so sweaty you nearly drop it. “Quit your games. I’ve had enough of this.”
“You’re very talented at magic, aren’t you? Despite both of your parents being anything but,” she continues, steadfast and unbothered by your obvious distress. “Haven’t you ever wondered about that? Or did you assume you were some kind of prodigy?”
You know you should just stop listening to her at this point. You really, really should. But she’s lying to you and slandering you and playing you for a fool! Making these ridiculous claims, having the nerve to appear here, today of all days – you don’t want to hear any of it.
Anger and panic are warring within you, writhing and clawing at your guts, threatening to make your chest burst. You need to keep breathing, keep a cool head, don’t let yourself get affected like this.
[[“Don’t speak another word, I won’t hear it. Stop lying.”|Chapter2.19A]]
[[“STOP LYING.”|Chapter2.19A]]
[[Something ugly and dark rears its head within you. You let doubt take hold.|Chapter2.19B]]<<set $instability to $instability + 1>>\
Something dark and ugly seems to climb up within you, and you realise that you are starting to consider what she is saying.
It is true that your mother has always treated you with a sort of distance, almost wariness, as if there was something about you that she didn’t trust. Maybe she did really notice a lack of motherly connection with you and sensed that you weren’t really her child. The only way to know would be to ask her about it, and you don’t know if you could stomach it.
Then there’s the fact that you’ve always been sensitive in regard to touching metal. It’s gotten better over the years, but it still itches and stings and feels more than a little uncomfortable. No one else you know has ever struggled with something similar, and any doctors or healers you’ve talked to haven’t been able to help much. Maybe there is something wrong with you after all – fae blood coursing through your veins.
One more thing to consider is your aptitude for magic, even though both of your parents possess no talent for it whatsoever. It would be conceited of you to think that you were simply a prodigy when the reality of it is staring you in the face. Sir and Lady Grahm can’t pass on the trait of magical affinity to their child if they do not possess it. You having it means you are probably not their biological child.
All of this is circumstantial at best, but you aren’t stupid. A dryad has shown up on the night of your twenty-first birthday to reveal the truth to you and it almost makes sense, somewhere in your rattled mind. It has all been leading up to today.
You are starting to doubt things you knew about yourself, your family, and reality itself. Doubting your own existence feels like the ground is slowly corroding around your feet until you're plummeting – your heart stops for a moment and your stomach flips upside down – deeper and deeper into the darkness of not knowing. You can identify the dark and ugly thing within your chest as despair now, as it claws on your insides and constricts your lungs. You’re not breathing right anymore.
This, right here, is a precipice – and you haven’t yet decided which way to fall.
She might still be lying, but you can’t find it in you to deny her words.
“Why are you here?” you ask instead, your voice breaking halfway through.
The sharp features of her face soften remarkably, and Lady Maeve regards you with something akin to kindness. “I am here to tell you the truth of things and get you up to speed. Whether you believe me or not, you are one of us, and you deserve to know about it.”
“But there’s more,” you croak out. Your throat feels raw all of a sudden and you wish you had something cold to drink.
She presses her hands together and tucks them under her chin. “There will be war, soon. Having a fae in your position is advantageous for us.”
You take a step back as if struck, mind reeling. “You- You want me to spy on the prince? Or what, kill him in his sleep?”
“Not necessarily. Not now, that would not be fair to you. But I would like to teach you – about us and our ways, and I would hope you’d choose to do the right thing of your own volition.” Lady Maeve’s black eyes seem to bore into you, and now you’re back to thinking that she is lying and manipulating you.
You take a few ragged breaths, vainly trying to wrap your head around any of this. Something lurches, inside your body or out of it, and it feels like someone punched you in the gut. “I think I am going to be sick.”
Lady Maeve winces as you double over. “Oh dear. Maybe this was all a bit much to spring on you after a night of celebration. How about I give you some time?”
You’re unable to answer her as you struggle not to empty the contents of your stomach at her feet.
“Let’s meet again here at midnight one week from now. I’m sure you’ll have questions. But, if you need more proof of what I’ve told you, I’d suggest taking a good long look in the mirror,” she whispers softly. “Make sure to do it when you’re alone.”
“What?” But as you look up to demand more answers and better explanations, your gaze finds nothing but the trunk of the weeping willow. There is not a trace left of Lady Maeve; she seems to have left as suddenly as she had appeared in the first place.
[[You can’t help but wonder whether this was just a hallucination, or a dream.|Chapter2.20]]<<set $instability to $instability + 1>>\
You keep insisting on it for the sake of your own sanity. Taut like a bowstring, you know your nerves are not far from snapping.
“You seem to be either very sceptical or very ignorant. What do you require from me, concrete proof? Or simply some more time to process it all?” Lady Maeve seems to genuinely be at her wits end.
“I need you to leave, now, or I’ll be forced to attack you for infiltrating the castle grounds,” you press out, slowly drawing your knife again. Enough is enough, this fae is clearly maliciously trying to manipulate you.
The dryad looks unperturbed and the hand she raises isn’t a sign of surrender, but a gesture meant to soothe a spooked animal. It almost infuriates you further. “We can’t be having that. Please, remain calm and try to approach this logically”, she says softly. “I am not trying to cause you distress.”
“What would a fae know of logic? Lies and madness are all you deal in. Now stop talking before you regret it.” You take a measured step forward, the blade of your knife flashing dangerously in the moon light.
“Sorry, but I won’t stop talking and I won’t leave until I’ve accomplished what I was sent here to do,” she continues calmly.
“Why are you here? To drive me mad?” you ask instead despite the rage blinding your vision. Despite everything, attacking someone who is just standing there without any signs of aggression isn’t something you’d like to do. Truthfully, a part of you is waiting for her to give you a reason while another is teetering on a very precarious precipice – undecided where to fall.
The sharp features of her face soften remarkably, and Lady Maeve regards you with something akin to kindness. “I am here to tell you the truth of things and get you up to speed. Whether you believe me or not, you are one of us, and you deserve to know about it.”
She is a good liar. Exceptional, really.
You narrow your eyes at her in suspicion. “You’ve told me what you wanted to tell me. I don’t have to believe you, so what more is there?”
She presses her hands together and tucks them under her chin. “There will be war, soon. Having a fae in your position is advantageous for us.”
You take a step back as if struck, mind reeling. “You- You want me to spy on the prince? Or what, kill him in his sleep?”
The worst part is that she sounds so serious when she says it, you can’t help but wonder. That lie of hers is becoming increasingly convoluted and, honestly, even more unbelievable. To the point that, maybe, she actually believes what she is saying. She is wrong, of course, but…
Lady Maeve shakes her head, her black eyes boring into you. “Not necessarily. Not now, that would not be fair to you. But I would like to teach you – about us and our ways, and I would hope you’d choose to do the right thing of your own volition.”
You take a few ragged breaths, vainly trying to wrap your head around any of this. Why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? Something lurches, inside your body or out of it, and it feels like someone punched you in the gut. As much as you hate it, you realise that you are going to be sick.
Lady Maeve winces as you double over, knife slipping from your hands. “Oh dear. Maybe this was all a bit much to spring on you after a night of celebration. How about I give you some time?”
You’re unable to answer her as you struggle not to empty the contents of your stomach at her feet.
“Let’s meet again here at midnight one week from now. I’m sure you’ll have questions. But, if you need more proof of what I’ve told you, I’d suggest taking a good long look in the mirror,” she whispers softly. “Make sure to do it when you’re alone.”
“What?” But as you look up to demand more answers and better explanations, your gaze finds nothing but the trunk of the weeping willow. There is not a trace left of Lady Maeve; she seems to have left as suddenly as she had appeared in the first place.
[[You can’t help but wonder whether this was just a hallucination, or a dream.|Chapter2.20]]Something dark and ugly seems to climb up within you, and you realise that you are starting to consider what she is saying.
It is true that you’ve always been sensitive in regard to touching metal. It’s gotten better over the years, but it still itches and stings and feels more than a little uncomfortable. No one else you know has ever struggled with something similar, and any doctors or healers you’ve talked to haven’t been able to help much. Maybe there is something wrong with you after all – fae blood coursing through your veins.
And your aptitude for magic is remarkable, even though both of your parents possess no talent for it whatsoever. It would be conceited of you to think that you were simply a prodigy when the reality of it is staring you in the face. Sir and Lady Grahm can’t pass on the trait of magical affinity to their child if they do not possess it. You having it means you are probably not their biological child.
It is true that your mother has always treated you with a sort of distance, almost wariness, as if there was something about you that she didn’t trust. Maybe she did really notice a lack of motherly connection with you and sensed that you weren’t really her child. The only way to know would be to ask her about it, and you don’t know if you could stomach it.
All of this is circumstantial at best, but you aren’t stupid. A dryad has shown up on the night of your twenty-first birthday to reveal the truth to you and it almost makes sense, somewhere in your rattled mind. It has all been leading up to today.
You are starting to doubt things you knew about yourself, your family, and reality itself. Doubting your own existence feels like the ground is slowly corroding around your feet until you're plummeting – your heart stops for a moment and your stomach flips upside down – deeper and deeper into the darkness of not knowing. You can identify the dark and ugly thing within your chest as despair now, as it claws on your insides and constricts your lungs. You’re not breathing right anymore.
This, right here, is a precipice – and you haven’t yet decided which way to fall.
She might still be lying, but you can’t find it in you to deny her words.
“Why are you here?” you ask instead, your voice breaking halfway through.
The sharp features of her face soften remarkably, and Lady Maeve regards you with something akin to kindness. “I am here to tell you the truth of things and get you up to speed. Whether you believe me or not, you are one of us, and you deserve to know about it.”
“But there’s more,” you croak out. Your throat feels raw all of a sudden and you wish you had something cold to drink.
She presses her hands together and tucks them under her chin. “There will be war, soon. Having a fae in your position is advantageous for us.”
You take a step back as if struck, mind reeling. “You- You want me to spy on the prince? Or what, kill him in his sleep?”
“Not necessarily. Not now, that would not be fair to you. But I would like to teach you – about us and our ways, and I would hope you’d choose to do the right thing of your own volition.” Lady Maeve’s black eyes seem to bore into you, and now you’re back to thinking that she is lying and manipulating you.
You take a few ragged breaths, vainly trying to wrap your head around any of this. Something lurches, inside your body or out of it, and it feels like someone punched you in the gut. “I think I am going to be sick.”
Lady Maeve winces as you double over. “Oh dear. Maybe this was all a bit much to spring on you after a night of celebration. How about I give you some time?”
You’re unable to answer her as you struggle not to empty the contents of your stomach at her feet.
“Let’s meet again here at midnight one week from now. I’m sure you’ll have questions. But, if you need more proof of what I’ve told you, I’d suggest taking a good long look in the mirror,” she whispers softly. “Make sure to do it when you’re alone.”
“What?” But as you look up to demand more answers and better explanations, your gaze finds nothing but the trunk of the weeping willow. There is not a trace left of Lady Maeve; she seems to have left as suddenly as she had appeared in the first place.
[[You can’t help but wonder whether this was just a hallucination, or a dream.|Chapter2.20]]“The crowd is really riled up for some reason,” you hear Melinda say as you join her and the others near the entrance. Her blonde hair is entirely hidden beneath her mail coif, and you can’t help but notice that you and Vynn are the only ones without head protection. Is Vynn just being vain or are they trying to show you some solidarity?
“For some reason?” Mordey mocks as she shuffles over to join you. “It is the prince’s twenty-first birthday, what do you expect? He’s eligible for marriage now, and he might as well be king already, what with the state his father’s in.”
“Don’t speak about the king like that,” you warn her instinctively. “He’ll knight you in a minute from now, and you dare disrespect him?”
Mordey laughs. It is a sound you dislike. “You must really be desperate for that Champion position, $playername. But no need to be a bootlicker, unless that’s-“
“Oh, piss off, Mordey,” Vynn interrupts her. “And the crowd’s riled up because there hasn’t been a group of such fine new knights in decades. Obviously.”
“Enough talk, the king’s just finished his speech,” Melinda says, her ear pressed against the wooden doors to hear what’s going on outside in the castle courtyard. “They’ll come get us any second now. Line up.”
It’s become routine by now to line up alphabetically. Soon, you realise, you’ll be lining up with the dozens of other knights, and Vynn might no longer be in the spot right behind you. A sobering thought, that.
As predicted by Melinda, it doesn’t take a minute after that for the doors to swing open. A pathway lined with knights and family members on the left and right leads up to a stage, surrounded by a roaring crowd of on-lookers. On the stage you can see King Az'Marn Gaiapeia, dressed in black robes, still grieving after all these years, but his posture is resolute, and his head holds the delicate golden crown high. In his left hand he holds a scythe and, in his right, a golden ceremonial sword – together they represent the crest of Gaiapeia. Harvest and Battle.
To his left stands Prince Az’Lean, who is dressed in his full suit of armour, to your surprise, its blackened steel polished until it shines like obsidian. Much like you and Vynn, he decided to forgo a helmet as well, likely so the adoring public could see his face. While his cheeks are still somewhat rosy, his face has become sharper, more angular, and his eyes… No need to dwell on what you see within them. His golden hair now reaches past his shoulders, but most of the time he keeps it braided in some type of way. Today, while the right side is left open, the left side of it is braided closely along his scalp in an intricate pattern.
The volume of cheers and cajoling is near deafening as you walk along the path to the stage. You can spot your parents in there somewhere but only for a second, your attention focused entirely on not tripping and making a fool of yourself.
Your group barely fits onto the stage once you get there, but you kneel shoulder to shoulder to make it work. Someone in the audience laughs, trumpets sound, and then suddenly there is silence. An utterly striking silence.
And it begins. King Az'Marn starts to the left of you with Fowain, his last name is Abernett, and after confirming his consent to die for this kingdom, lays both the scythe and the sword on his shoulders in a cross that would make it trivially easy to behead him on the spot.
The king clears his throat, and his voice rings out, booming as ever: “I now proclaim you Sir Abernett, knight of Gaiapeia. Rise!” Immediately, Fowain scrambles to his feet, clearly overwhelmed with the proceedings. He bows not just once, but three times in quick succession, but the king has already moved on to the next person.
It doesn’t take long until he gets to you. His eyes bore into you from where he looms above you as he asks you the question: “Are you ready to lay down your life in the service of Gaiapeia and its people?”
[[“Yes, I am ready to die for Gaiapeia.”|Chapter2.3]]
[[“Yes, I am ready to die for Gaiapeia and every single one of its citizens.”|Chapter2.3]]
[[“Yes, I am ready to die for Gaiapeia, and for you, my king, and for your son.”|Chapter2.3]]
[[“Yes, I am ready, and willing, and honoured to die for Gaiapeia, and for its people, and for you, my king, and for your son, and for his future.”|Chapter2.3]]Your memory is hazy after that. Vaguely, you’re aware that Vynn finds you at some point, kneeling and dry heaving under the weeping willow. It was probably them that helped you up and got you back into your bed in the barracks, though not even that is something you can be sure of. It feels as if you are floating – anchorless and detached from everything around you.
There isn’t a single coherent thought you are able to grasp for the rest of the night and when sleep finally claims you, it’s a blessing. Though it doesn’t stay that way; the calm darkness that blankets you soon gives way to twisting dreams and turbulent nightmares. The most bizarre situations are accompanied by violent imagery, all somehow revealing and indistinct at the same time.
By the time you wake up, most of it has been forgotten, though one particular scenario remains burned into your mind: Someone is holding you as if you weighed nothing, or perhaps you’re simply very small. They are cloaked in shadow and nebulous, and all you can make out with certainty is a row of sharp teeth. Yellow and rotten, framed by thin lips in a grin of pure malice. You struggle with all your might, hoping beyond hope that they’ll let you go, but their grip is tight like iron and burns like it too. Even though you don’t manage to escape, you somehow are able to turn around in their hands, looking at anything other than that bone-chilling smile.
Your eyes meet a still pool of black liquid, and within it, you can clearly make out the reflection of large, blood-red eyes. They blink in time with your own. You watch with horrid fascination as tears start leaking from the corners, rolling across revolting, ashen grey skin.
In the end, you awake with a gasp. You heart is threatening to beat out of your chest and your lungs can barely keep up with your rapid demand of oxygen. Sweat clings uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t keep your hands from shaking.
“Easy there, $playername. It was just a dream,” you can hear Vynn say from across the room. They’re sitting on the windowsill, brown eyes regarding you with amusement. “Last night must’ve done a number on you.”
You open your mouth to respond but your throat suddenly feels raw. It takes you a while to get the words out, and even then your voice sounds scratchy. “Did anything happen?”
Alarm flickers in Vynn’s eyes and they hop off the sill. “What do you mean?”
You’d like to ask ‘did a dryad attack the castle?’ or ‘did I turn into a monster in my sleep?’ but you get the feeling Vynn would simply laugh at you. But you need to know which parts were real and which were a dream... Or were they all just dreams?Frustration and fear start twisting your insides. “My memories are hazy past… past midnight.”
“We were celebrating your birthday and then you went to get some fresh air. I followed you a bit later and found you throwing up in the castle gardens. Then we went home. I don’t think you were out of my sight for more than twenty minutes,” they answer carefully.
You start wringing the sheets of your bed in your hands. “Did I say anything weird to you?”
“No, but you were pretty out of it. I guess you had a little too much to drink,” they say with a shrug. “How are you feeling now?”
“Terrible. Would you mind… leaving me alone for a bit?” You desperately need to think and process, and you can’t risk Vynn seeing you freak out and asking more questions.
Vynn smiles softly. “Sure, I’ll be in the common room if you need me. Oh, but don’t forget that the prince will probably be here soon.”
Your stomach lurches. “The prince?”
Their smile falters a little. “You are aware that your new duties will start today, right? Don’t worry, I’m sure even a guy like him sleeps in after a night like this.”
“Right. The prince, the castle, work. Yes, of course, right. Hmm.” You clear your throat repeatedly, trying to hide the rising panic.
Vynn grimaces, not trying to hide their worry. “Are you sure you want me to leave you alone right now?”
“Yes. Please.”
Vynn gives you one last look before leaving. “If you’re sure…”
As soon as the door falls closed behind Vynn, you unleash a silent scream into your pillow. What the Otherworld is happening? This can’t possibly be real, you are just incredibly hungover, and your mind is playing tricks on you, imagining some kind of screwed up scenario.
Just on the off-chance that it isn’t, you scramble over to retrieve a hand-mirror from inside the drawer next to your bed, almost dropping it immediately. Your eyes can barely focus on what you’re seeing as you hold it in front of you, vision threatening to black out completely. You force yourself to breathe and to simply look at your reflection.
A very ordinary and very human face looks back at you – tired $eyes eyes, sweaty $skin skin, and a mess of $haircolor hair. The same as always, no trace of fae features to be found. Despite that confirmation, you don’t dare to feel any kind of relief. The dryad's words keep echoing in your mind like a curse, and you know that all the things she said made too much sense for you to ignore them completely.
But doubts and fears aside – what should you do now? What action could you take, in this very moment, to make any of this better?
Now is not the time to break down. Prince Az’Lean is expecting you and today is your first day in your new role – you cannot afford to appear unstable. Or insane. Or like a fae disguised as a human.
You are a knight for crying out loud, you should be thriving in high-pressure situations. Even if they shake you to your core and turn your world upside down. Right now, you need to function. So how to best approach this situation you’ve found yourself in? <<set $lovemet to 3>>
[[Denial. It was all a dream, easy as that.|Chapter2.21]]
[[Scepticism. That dryad might have been lying. No point in worrying about it until I have concrete evidence.|Chapter2.21]]
[[Compartmentalisation. This topic will be shoved far into the recesses of your mind until you have time to deal with it.|Chapter2.21]]<<set $instability to $instability + 1>>\
With your survival strategy set, you take one more deep breath. You are ready to face the day – your first day as the one and only Champion of Prince Az’Lean.
<<set $chapter to 3>> <i>Your codex has been updated.</i>
[[End of Chapter 2 – Intertwined Branches|Chapter3.1]]The words leave your mouth almost involuntarily. King Az’Marn doesn’t respond, his expression doesn’t change. He merely lays his scythe and his sword on your shoulders and crosses them in front of your neck. You hold your breath and don’t dare to swallow.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “I now proclaim you Sir Grahm, knight of Gaiapeia. Rise!” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “I now proclaim you Lady Grahm, knight of Gaiapeia. Rise!” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “I now proclaim you Chev Grahm, knight of Gaiapeia. Rise!” <<endif>>\
With a happily fluttering heart, you stand up to your full hight. While King Az’Marn is already moving on to Vynn, your eyes briefly meet Az’Lean’s, who seems to be watching the knighting intently. A barely visible smile brightens up his face for a split second before his attention moves on. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Does he see someone capable? Someone he can trust?
Your attention is drawn towards Vynn who is kneeling at your side, an expression of despairing resignation on their face. The king poses his question once more: “Are you ready to lay down your life in the service of Gaiapeia and its people?”
You can see Vynn swallowing and wonder whether its an attempt to clear their throat or keep their rising bile at bay. “Yes,” Vynn begins, their voice sounding distant and hoarse, “I am ready to die for Gaiapeia.”
Again, the king lays his scythe and sword down on their shoulders. Something dark flits momentarily across Vynn’s eyes but is quickly replaced with nonchalance. A mask, you realise.
“I now proclaim you Chev Vynn, knight of Gaiapeia. Rise!” Vynn rises and the king moves on. The moment passes.
Internally, you can’t help the battle that is occurring between your giddy joy at finally being an official knight and your sympathy for Vynn. You wonder if they’re resenting the fact that this is something you can be happy about, but a glance at them reveals nothing of the sort. Vynn simply grins at you and nudges your elbow with their own. There’s nothing you can do but grin back.
Soon, every single one of you has been knighted and the crowd around you interrupts in boisterous cheer. King Az’Marn puts the scythe and sword away before turning to his son. “Now then, Az’Lean, I suppose the rest is up to you. Time for you to pick a Champion among these fine contenders. How will you make your decision?”
Immediately, the crowd breaks out into a chant: “Tour-na-ment! Tour-na-ment! Tour-na-ment!”
Az’Lean steps forward with a laugh and takes over the proceedings while the king seems content to fade back into the background.
“A tournament, you say? A fine idea indeed.” Az’Lean taps his chin with his black gauntlet in mock contemplation. He seems to know exactly how to get his audience riled up. They keep chanting louder until he raises one hand, silencing them instantly. “But let’s make it a bit more interesting, shall we? I propose a battle royale, the winner of which will get the honour of becoming my Champion. I will participate too, of course, otherwise it wouldn’t be very royale.”
The crowd roars with laughter and you notice Vynn stifling a chuckle as well. You, however, are not as amused by this turn of events. You’d thought the prince would look for more than just combat prowess in his assessment. A battle royale can easily be won by luck and says little about someone’s character and trustworthiness.
“But what if you win, my prince?” Melinda asks and rightfully so.
A challenging glint appears in Az’Lean’s eyes. “Well, then I might not even need a Champion, don’t you think?”
Your heart sinks at the mere thought of it.
“Forming teams is allowed, of course, but remember that there can only be one winner,” Az’Lean adds with a decisive nod. “Well then, go and get your weapons and we’ll meet at the arena!”
The words shock some sense of determination into you, and you begin resolutely marching back to the barracks to retrieve the rest of your gear. As always, Vynn remains next to you.
“We’ll team, of course,” they whisper to you. “I want you to win as much as you do yourself.”
[[“I don’t know, that seems dishonourable.”|Chapter2.4A]]
[[“Good. Let’s target Mordey first.”|Chapter2.4B]]
[[“Thank you, Vynn. It means a lot.”|Chapter2.4C]]Vynn barely supresses a snort as they grab their bow and quiver from the hooks above their bed. “Are you saying that because you actually care about honour, or because you think defeating everyone on your own would impress the prince more?”
<<if $element == "fire">> You make sure to grab your rapier, as well as a buckler, and shed a few pieces of your armour. Anything to increase your speed and dexterity. “I suppose it’s a bit of both,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “I don’t mind teaming up with you, just don’t do something like take a hit for me. If I’m out, I’m out.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You make sure to grab your spear, as well as a dagger for good measure. Always better to have some options. “I don’t personally care about honour all that much, but I assume the prince does,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “I don’t mind teaming up with you, just don’t do something like take a hit for me. If I’m out, I’m out.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You make sure to grab your daggers and shed a few pieces of your armour. Anything to increase your speed and dexterity. “I’m just trying to think about it like a knight, and not someone who wants to win at all costs,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “I don’t mind teaming up with you, just don’t do something like take a hit for me. If I’m out, I’m out.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You make sure to grab your sword and shield and double check that every piece of your armour is fastened correctly. “Of course I care about honour, which is why I don’t think a battle royale is a good way to decide something this important,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “I don’t mind teaming up with you, just don’t do something like take a hit for me. If I’m out, I’m out.” <<endif>>\
Vynn nods as they grab a couple of runestones and a sword for melee combat. “Did the prince say if we have to knock each other out, or what?”
“I assume it’s not a death match,” you say with a chuckle. “We’ll see.”
Once the two of you are ready, you make your way to the arena behind the castle walls. It is a large stone circle, descending into a pit of sand and dirt. Wooden galleries are erected around it, already filling with spectators. King Az’Marn sits in a particularly spacious lodge, face blank and disinterested. Today, the arena has been decorated in blue banners for Az’Lean’s birthday, and a troupe of musicians are performing from within the crowd.
Prince Az’Lean is busy getting all of you newly appointed knights to stand in a perfect circle within the arena, very unsubtly placing particular people next to each other. You wonder if there’s someone he wants to win. He doesn’t try to break up you and Vynn, at least.
“What’s the win condition?” Vynn asks him as he passes by you. Everyone else quiets down to listen in as well.
The prince halts in his tracks, momentarily frozen. Has he… not thought about that part?
He clears his throat. “Oh, yes, erm. If you’re disarmed, you’re out. If you’re incapacitated, you’re out. If someone holds a blade against your neck, you’re out. Does that sound agreeable?”
There are no objections, though you can’t help but think that the prince’s fighting style makes it pretty much impossible to disarm him. While he uses a simple short sword in his left hand, his right hand is quipped with a very special kind of weapon.
You would describe it as something between a gauntlet and a massive claw. It is made from black steel, much like the rest of his armour, and looks both incredibly heavy and razor sharp. At this moment, his arm hangs casually at his side and the individual knife-like claws reach well past his knee. They curve inwards, almost delicately. You wonder whether he can even bend his fingers like that. You try to find something to compare it to – an eagle’s talons, the claws of a bear or a wolf, but nothing really fits. In the end, it still looks most like a human hand, just stretched, and sharpened. Made into a weapon.
After a few more minutes, all of you are assembled and ready. The crowd is going wild, commoners and nobles alike joining in, chanting, cheering, singing songs of battle. Someone is throwing roses into the ring; the troupe reaches the finale of their ballad and the music surges before quieting down. The roar around you mixes with the roar of rushing blood in your ears. It’s pure adrenaline.
Az’Lean moves into position as well, his beast of a gauntlet raised high into the air. You exchange a steadying glance with Vynn on your left.
With enough force to be audible, the gauntlet comes rushing down like a deadly flag, signalling the beginning of the battle.
How the first second goes down can already spell defeat for some.
[[Get some distance. Be patient. Observe.|Chapter2.5A]]
[[Whoever has the misfortune of standing to your right won’t know what hit them.|Chapter2.5B]]<<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
Vynn barks a laugh, mischief shining brightly within their eyes. “That’s what I want to hear, $playername!” They grab their bow and quiver from the hooks above their bed. “Any other tactical plans?”
<<if $element == "fire">> You make sure to grab your rapier, as well as a buckler, and shed a few pieces of your armour. Anything to increase your speed and dexterity. “Let’s be quick and stay on our toes,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “Whoever stops moving will become a target for arrows and magic alike.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You make sure to grab your spear, as well as a dagger for good measure. Always better to have some options. “Let’s not get overzealous,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “There’s no reward for taking risks and getting more people out.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You make sure to grab your daggers and shed a few pieces of your armour. Anything to increase your speed and dexterity. “No point in planning tactics for a battle royale,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “Anything could happen, so let’s just play it by ear.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You make sure to grab your sword and shield and double check that every piece of your armour is fastened correctly. “Let’s stay back-to-back,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “I’ll shield you while you try and snipe them.” <<endif>>\
Vynn nods as they grab a couple of runestones and a sword for melee combat. “Did the prince say if we have to knock each other out, or what?”
“I assume it’s not a death match,” you say with a chuckle. “We’ll see.”
Once the two of you are ready, you make your way to the arena behind the castle walls. It is a large stone circle, descending into a pit of sand and dirt. Wooden galleries are erected around it, already filling with spectators. King Az’Marn sits in a particularly spacious lodge, face blank and disinterested. Today, the arena has been decorated in blue banners for Az’Lean’s birthday, and a troupe of musicians are performing from within the crowd.
Prince Az’Lean is busy getting all of you newly appointed knights to stand in a perfect circle within the arena, very unsubtly placing particular people next to each other. You wonder if there’s someone he wants to win. He doesn’t try to break up you and Vynn, at least.
“What’s the win condition?” Vynn asks him as he passes by you. Everyone else quiets down to listen in as well.
The prince halts in his tracks, momentarily frozen. Has he…not thought about that part?
He clears his throat. “Oh, yes, erm. If you’re disarmed, you’re out. If you’re incapacitated, you’re out. If someone holds a blade against your neck, you’re out. Does that sound agreeable?”
There are no objections, though you can’t help but think that the prince’s fighting style makes it pretty much impossible to disarm him. While he uses a simple short sword in his left hand, his right hand is quipped with a very special kind of weapon.
You would describe it as something between a gauntlet and a massive claw. It is made from black steel, much like the rest of his armour, and looks both incredibly heavy and razor sharp. At this moment, his arm hangs casually at his side and the individual knife-like claws reach well past his knee. They curve inwards, almost delicately. You wonder whether he can even bend his fingers like that. You try to find something to compare it to – an eagle’s talons, the claws of a bear or a wolf, but nothing really fits. In the end, it still looks most like a human hand, just stretched, and sharpened. Made into a weapon.
After a few more minutes, all of you are assembled and ready. The crowd is going wild, commoners and nobles alike joining in, chanting, cheering, singing songs of battle. Someone is throwing roses into the ring; the troupe reaches the finale of their ballad and the music surges before quieting down. The roar around you mixes with the roar of rushing blood in your ears. It’s pure adrenaline.
Az’Lean moves into position as well, his beast of a gauntlet raised high into the air. You exchange a steadying glance with Vynn on your left.
With enough force to be audible, the gauntlet comes rushing down like a deadly flag, signalling the beginning of the battle.
How the first second goes down can already spell defeat for some.
[[Get some distance. Be patient. Observe.|Chapter2.5A]]
[[Whoever has the misfortune of standing to your right won’t know what hit them.|Chapter2.5B]]
[[Now, just where might Mordey be?|Chapter2.5C]]Vynn smiles almost sheepishly as they grab their bow and quiver from the hooks above their bed. “I honestly think you’re the best fit for Champion. Though I have to ask, is there a reason why it means so much to you?”
<<if $element == "fire">> You make sure to grab your rapier, as well as a buckler, and shed a few pieces of your armour. Anything to increase your speed and dexterity. “I want to do as much as I can to help protect Gaiapeia,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “And the best way to do it is to protect the future king.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You make sure to grab your spear, as well as a dagger for good measure. Always better to have some options. “It is an important duty,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “I think I could do a good job at it, and so I have to try my best.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You make sure to grab your daggers and shed a few pieces of your armour. Anything to increase your speed and dexterity. “I’m not really sure, sometimes,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “Because of my birthdate, I just always thought it was meant to be.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You make sure to grab your sword and shield and double check that every piece of your armour is fastened correctly. “The prince looks like he could need someone by his side,” you answer Vynn’s question belatedly. “Not just someone who can protect him. Someone he can trust.” <<endif>>\
Vynn nods pensively as they grab a couple of runestones and a sword for melee combat. “By the way, did the prince say if we have to knock each other out, or what?”
“I assume it’s not a death match,” you say with a chuckle. “We’ll see.”
Once the two of you are ready, you make your way to the arena behind the castle walls. It is a large stone circle, descending into a pit of sand and dirt. Wooden galleries are erected around it, already filling with spectators. King Az’Marn sits in a particularly spacious lodge, face blank and disinterested. Today, the arena has been decorated in blue banners for Az’Lean’s birthday, and a troupe of musicians are performing from within the crowd.
Prince Az’Lean is busy getting all of you newly appointed knights to stand in a perfect circle within the arena, very unsubtly placing particular people next to each other. You wonder if there’s someone he wants to win. He doesn’t try to break up you and Vynn, at least.
“What’s the win condition?” Vynn asks him as he passes by you. Everyone else quiets down to listen in as well.
The prince halts in his tracks, momentarily frozen. Has he…not thought about that part?
He clears his throat. “Oh, yes, erm. If you’re disarmed, you’re out. If you’re incapacitated, you’re out. If someone holds a blade against your neck, you’re out. Does that sound agreeable?”
There are no objections, though you can’t help but think that the prince’s fighting style makes it pretty much impossible to disarm him. While he uses a simple short sword in his left hand, his right hand is quipped with a very special kind of weapon.
You would describe it as something between a gauntlet and a massive claw. It is made from black steel, much like the rest of his armour, and looks both incredibly heavy and razor sharp. At this moment, his arm hangs casually at his side and the individual knife-like claws reach well past his knee. They curve inwards, almost delicately. You wonder whether he can even bend his fingers like that. You try to find something to compare it to – an eagle’s talons, the claws of a bear or a wolf, but nothing really fits. In the end, it still looks most like a human hand, just stretched, and sharpened. Made into a weapon.
After a few more minutes, all of you are assembled and ready. The crowd is going wild, commoners and nobles alike joining in, chanting, cheering, singing songs of battle. Someone is throwing roses into the ring; the troupe reaches the finale of their ballad and the music surges before quieting down. The roar around you mixes with the roar of rushing blood in your ears. It’s pure adrenaline.
Az’Lean moves into position as well, his beast of a gauntlet raised high into the air. You exchange a steadying glance with Vynn on your left.
With enough force to be audible, the gauntlet comes rushing down like a deadly flag, signalling the beginning of the battle.
How the first second goes down can already spell defeat for some.
[[Get some distance. Be patient. Observe.|Chapter2.5A]]
[[Whoever has the misfortune of standing to your right won’t know what hit them.|Chapter2.5B]]You signal Vynn to get behind you and shuffle a few steps back. Some other knights take the same approach, but you notice Az’Lean of all people throwing himself into the thick of it, seemingly looking to take out as many people as he can. Melinda and Mordey have teamed up and move along the edge of the arena, trying to find an easy target.
While you and Vynn are not an easy target, known for your formidable teamwork as you are, a lot of people seem to view you as a priority to take out, nonetheless. You don’t get the luxury to observe much longer, as Fowain seems to be barrelling towards you, wielding a tower shield and a spear. His highly defensive capabilities allow him to approach you without worry. Still, Vynn shoots a few regular arrows to slow him down, allowing you to get ready.
<<if $element == "fire">> While your higher speed gives you a few more options, the reach of your rapier is limited, and it’ll be difficult to target one of the joints on Fowain’s armour. A better approach would be to try and use fire magic to get him to drop his spear, at least. You’ll need a few seconds to cast it, but as long as you stay moving and out of harms way, it’s impossible for Fowain to catch up to you.
“Cover me,” you say to Vynn as you hold your rapier out in front of you, intently concentrating on channelling your magic into the crystal embedded within it. At the same time, you start moving backwards with effortless grace and speed. Vynn wastes no time in covering your retreat with a few more arrows.
“No running, $playername!” Fowain calls out to you, amusement clear in his voice. He raises his spear, even though you’re out of range.
Vynn whips their head around in alarm. “He’ll throw it!” You manage to process their warning just in time to raise your buckler. The spear hits it head-on with an incredible force that ripples through your arm and into your shoulder. For a second it feels like it’ll be popped clean out of its socket, and you grit your teeth in pain. The buckler gives in, splintering, but at least the spear’s tip was slowed down enough by it to not pierce through your gauntlet.
While you throw your broken buckler and the spear sticking out of it to the ground, you finish channelling your magic and release your hold on it. Your rapier glows red for a second before heating up to an almost unbearable degree. Still, your grip tightens and you thrust it forward. A flaming ball materializes at the end of it.
Everyone knows that blocking fire with a partially wooden shield is always a risky move, but Fowain has no other choice. The fireball flies towards him in a straight line, fast like a nosediving hawk. He hunkers down behind his shield and braces for impact. The fireball collides with his shield in a small explosion of heat and smoke, and even though it doesn’t completely ignite it, it’s hot and smouldering, and Fowain has to either try and put it out or drop it. He doesn’t even get the chance to think about it, however, as Vynn suddenly appears at his side, an arrow held tightly within their hand. With one swift motion, they finesse it into the gap underneath his helmet.
“Blade on your neck, Fowain. I’m afraid you’re out,” they whisper. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You ready your own spear in preparation. While Fowain’s reliance on a shield for defence might seem like a prudent strategy, it will prove detrimental when handling two opponents at once. All you need to do is get him to raise his shield in order to block one of Vynn’s attacks, then quickly circle around him and try to finesse your spear into the gap underneath his helmet.
Though something like that is always easier in theory. “Distract him,” you whisper to Vynn before moving in opposite directions to encircle Fowain. He, however, seems content in letting his armour do all of the work for him. Even as one of Vynn’s arrows hits him straight between his shoulder blades, bending the metal and surely bruising him, he keeps advancing on you instead. You only narrowly manage to dodge a stab from his spear.
With a few quick steps you move backwards, hoping Fowain will turn around and focus on Vynn instead. “I’m not that stupid, $playername!” Fowain calls out to you as he advances on you instead, shield and spear both raised. You can’t spot an opening in his defence at all, and you realise with frustration that he is forcing you backwards towards the edge of the arena.
Luckily, you and Vynn have no problem with changing tactics on the fly. It seems like this time, you will play the role of distraction instead. “You just know our fighting style too well, Fowain,” you say and take a stab at him. It bounces off his shield, raising his confidence and blinding him to the fact that Vynn has stopped shooting arrows at him.
Fowain wastes no time to surge forward, striking out with his shield in an attempt to throw you off balance. It catches your arm and while you would’ve been able to move out of the way in time, you let it brush against you. It succeeds in pushing you backwards and hurts a bit, but you don’t think it’ll be anything worse than a bruise.
You let yourself fall to the ground, backwards, spear held out protectively in front of you. It would be easy for Fowain to disarm you now, but he has to bend down for that and lower his head. Just when he is about to knock the spear out of your hands, Vynn appears behind him, an arrow held tightly within their hand. With one swift motion, they wedge it into the gap underneath his helmet.
“Blade on your neck, Fowain. I’m afraid you’re out,” they whisper. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You’re not going to deny that this match-up isn’t ideal. Were this real combat, you would have no problem outrunning a heavily armoured Fowain, casting a few illusion spells and taking him out in his confusion. But in an arena full of people, you’ll hardly get the chance to attempt something like that. No, you’ll have to take the risk of attacking without any magical support.
“Let’s topple him,” you whisper to Vynn as you ready your daggers. You’re both much more agile than Fowain and will have the upper hand once you get him on the ground. Fowain, however, has an excellent core and won’t be swept off his feet that easily. The two of you might have to get a bit creative.
You begin by closing in on him, trying to render his increased range useless by always staying on his left, circling around him. He strikes out with his shield a few times, but you elude him, swiftly moving aside. Instead, you raise your daggers for an attack of your own, though they find no purchase on his armour. You start aiming for his joints instead and are happy to see that he has become entirely focused on you. The rest is up to Vynn.
“I can do this all day, $playername,” Fowain teases as your daggers fail to meet their mark once more. You don’t let up, however, increasing the intensity of your attacks instead. Just as Fowain tries to turn around to block your attacks with his shield, a certain purple scarf coils around his leg.
“Vynn, that’s brilliant,” you exclaim in awe as Fowain stumbles, his left leg entirely ensnared. All it takes is a swift kick to the inside of his leg and he falls down on one knee. He doesn’t have enough leverage to use his spear from this angle, and Vynn barrels into him in a full-body tackle.
You seize the chance to finally wedge one of your daggers underneath the gap in his helmet, even as Vynn is busy retrieving their scarf. “Blade on your neck, Fowain. I’m afraid you’re out,” you say quickly before he accidentally hurts himself by struggling against it.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> Both you and Fowain are more defensively oriented, though the reach of his spear gives him somewhat of an advantage. Vynn will have to pick up the slack for you. The best course of action would be to split Fowain’s attention between the two of you, waiting for an opening to present itself.
“Flank him,” you whisper to Vynn as you meet Fowain head on, shield raised in front of you. You focus on blocking any stabs from his spear for now, content to bide your time while Vynn gets into position.
You take a few swipes at his spear. With Fowain himself being out of reach, the next best thing is attacking his weapon. It wouldn’t take too much force to break a spear like that, though Fowain is careful, always quick to withdraw his weapon once more. Vynn takes a few shots at him from behind, but Fowain seems content to let his armour take the brunt of the arrows, though it will no doubt leave bruising.
“It’ll take more than that to distract me, $playername,” Fowain teases you as another arrow bounces off the plate on his back. You don’t react to his words, instead exchanging a glance with Vynn – they will have to switch to melee combat at this point. A roll of their eyes is all you get from Vynn, a clear sign of them having come to the same conclusion.
You lower your shield somewhat to entice another attack from Fowain and he takes the bait instantly. His spear almost hits you, just barely scraping past your pauldron, but you’re on it instantly, swiping your blade along the wooden shaft.
Vynn chooses this opportune moment to draw their own sword, rushing forward on quick feet. It takes them less than a second to appear behind Fowain, instantly finessing the tip of their blade into the gap beneath his helmet. “Blade on your neck, Fowain. I’m afraid you’re out,” they whisper.<<endif>>\
Fowain sighs, though he doesn’t seem surprised. “Fair enough. Good luck you two.”
While Fowain slowly retreats from the battlefield, you and Vynn get no time at all to catch your breaths. Immediately, Melinda and Mordey are upon you, and you can barely dodge one of Mordey’s throwing knives in time.
Melinda grins at you as she closes in, wildly twirling her twin ball flail. “Two on two seems a bit fairer, yeah?”
“Don’t expect us to lose,” Mordey adds with a sneer, more throwing knives fanned out between her fingers.
Melinda and Mordey are obviously a good team, and their skillsets work well together.
[[Time to get serious.|Chapter2.6A]]You whirl around to your right, eager to take down whoever might be there. Your $eyes eyes almost glow in anticipation as you spot Abigail, cautiously shuffling along the edge of the arena. While she is excellent on horse-back, you know for a fact that Abigail is one of the weaker fighters in your year. Easy pickings, some might say.
“Let’s make this quick,” you tell Vynn over your shoulder while already advancing on your target.
Like a startled deer, Abigail turns around to face you, her features displaying a struggle between determination to fight and instinct to surrender. “You must really want to win, $playername,” she ends up saying with a wry smile as you pick up your pace.
Any attempt to retreat on her part is nipped in the bud by a few precisely shot arrows from Vynn, forcing Abigail to face you. She raises her battle axe defensively.
<<if $element == "fire">> If you time things exactly right, you might only need to parry her once with your buckler to reveal an opening. Her axe might tear it apart if she put her all into it, but you doubt it. You figure she’ll hesitate, and her balance will easily be thrown off.
Using your speed to your full advantage, you sprint towards her, buckler raised while your rapier remains at your side, unassuming. Abigail looks unwilling to make the first move, but at this rate you’ll simply barrel into her, so she slightly raises her axe, ready to strike.
She does exactly what you thought she would, striking at you with the attempt to chase you off and not to disable your buckler. Effortlessly, you knock the blade of her axe to the side and, quick like the sting of a wasp, stab the tip of your rapier into the joint of her right elbow. It slips precisely between the plates of her armour, piercing through leather and into her skin beneath.
Almost instantly, Abigail gasps more from surprise than pain but let’s the grip on her axe weaken regardless. You strike at it with your buckler, and it falls from her hands with a thump. Something akin to relief flashes across her face at the realisation that her being disarmed was enough to end the fight.
“Well then, good luck you two,” she quips while rubbing her elbow and hurrying away.
“I barely had to do anything,” Vynn says with satisfied smile. You return it with a grin of your own. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> If you position yourself correctly, you might not even have to get within range of her axe to win this altercation. She might try to strike your spear with her axe, but it is a heavier, slower weapon, and you should be fine as long as you react in time.
Using your reach to your full advantage, you close in on her, taking a few pre-emptive stabs in her direction while you do so. Abigail uses her axe more like a shield, deflecting the tip of your spear away from her to buy herself time. It won’t win her the fight, however.
After a few more attacks, you are able to create a sort of rhythm, hoping to lull her into a pattern you establish. Abigail seems none the wiser, and soon you spot it – whenever you raise your spear a certain way, she tends to tilt her head backwards in anticipation, exposing a gap underneath her helmet that one might wedge a spear into, with a bit of luck.
You take your chances immediately, feinting one thing and at the last second changing direction, catching her off guard. The tip of your spear just narrowly fits within the gap, but as soon as it comes near her neck, Abigail freezes instantly.
“Blade on your neck means I win,” you tell her, waiting for her eyes to signal acknowledgement before ever so carefully retracting your spear.
“I guess I should wish you good luck,” Abigail says with a slightly shaky breath before hurrying off.
“You didn’t really need me for that one,” Vynn says, not bothered by that fact at all. You shoot them a grin. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> It shouldn’t take much to evade her attacks and circle around her with your superior speed. The tricky part will be finding an opening in her defence, forcing her to reveal a weak spot, and then finessing your daggers into a position to threaten but not actually harm.
Using your agility to your full advantage, you approach her at an angle, already forcing her to turn in order to keep facing you. Her steps are heavy, and her axe is held close to her body, poised, waiting to strike. You risk getting a bit closer, just narrowly dodging a swing from her axe to the side. You move left and right, trying to bait her into another attack.
Abigail’s patience runs thin and her axe soars – but so do you as you throw yourself to the side, rolling along the ground and springing back up right behind her. Before she has time to react, you pry one of your daggers into the joint at her shoulder. It isn’t enough to get through the chainmail underneath, but she instinctively tilts her head backwards to protect her neck, and you seize the opportunity to reach around and go for the resulting gap underneath the front of her helmet instead.
The tip of your second dagger rests just under her chin. “I think that means I win,” you say to her, waiting for her body to relax before you withdraw your blade.
“Well played, $playername,” Abigail says shakily before hurrying off.
“Have fun rolling around on the ground?” Vynn asks with a grin as they stroll over, not a hair out of place and entirely too relaxed. You give them a thumbs-up as you dust yourself off. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> Even though Abigail wields a mighty weapon indeed, you doubt it will be able to do much damage to your shield, not with the hesitation that is written all over her. Blocking her attacks and countering with a few of your own should be easy enough.
Using your impeccable defence to your advantage, you close in on her, shield raised and sword poised carefully at your side like a snake waiting to strike. Abigail seems unwilling to make the first move, however, so you swipe towards her left arm experimentally. Her axe immediately comes up to deflect your sword, but you widen your stance and make sure to not grant her an opening.
She uses the momentum of her swing to immediately follow it up with another attack, through it is slow enough to be predictable. You raise your shield up at the last second, catching the axe’s blade on its edge. At the same time, you step forward and bring the pommel of your sword down on her hands, once, twice, three times in quick succession. You can tell she’s struggling to hold on to her weapon, and so you strike out with your shield – hard.
It collides with the side of her battle axe, cleanly knocking it out of her hands with the force of the blow. Abigail stares at her empty hands for a second before smiling wryly. “I guess that means I’m out. Good luck from here on out, $playername.”
You give her a smile in thanks as she hurries off.
“You didn’t really need my help for that one, did you?” Vynn asks with a grin as they saunter over to you.
You can’t help but chuckle. “Not really, no. But I appreciate the moral support.” <<endif>>\
You don’t get any time to revel in your swift victory, however, as a throwing knife whizzes past your face, close enough to make you press a hand to your cheek in search of blood, though you don’t end up finding any.
“Mordey, nine o’clock,” Vynn calls out to you, and you swiftly turn to your left.
She is still quite a few paces away, but her throwing knives are fanned out between her fingers and she is regarding you with a sneer. “This is as far as you’ll get, $playername. Doesn’t matter that you’ve got Vynn’s support. Though your desperation to prove yourself is adorable.”
“Your attempt at belittling others to lift yourself up is equally as adorable,” Vynn growls, arrow already nocked. “Let’s take her down, $playername.”
[[“Understood. Counting on you, Vynn.”|Chapter2.6B]]Immediately, your eyes scan the arena for Mordey. You want to make sure that there isn’t even the smallest chance of her becoming the Champion. Besides, she’s sure to be a problem, and the sooner she’s out, the better.
You manage to spot her quickly, quite a distance away from you on the other side of the arena. Getting to her now would be a risk with everyone else fighting around you, and as good a shot as Vynn is, you doubt they can take her out from here without aiming for her vitals.
Though maybe you could catch Mordey unaware while she is fighting someone else.
“I’ll head over there. Can you give me cover?” you ask Vynn.
They scan around, smirking when they spot your target. Already they’re nocking an arrow. “I won’t let anyone get anywhere near you.”
With ranged support from Vynn, you have no reservation charging forwards, dodging between groups of fighting knights, arrows and other projectiles whizzing past you. From the corner of your eye you can see Az’Lean wreaking havoc, but you are focused on getting to Mordey right now. Her throwing knives are fanned out between her fingers and she seems engaged in a match of her own.
Almost too perfectly, her back is turned towards you. All you need to do now is catch her off guard from behind and find a weak spot in her defence.
<<if $element == "fire">> You ready your buckler and grip your rapier tightly. As long as you can sneak up on her, it should be easy enough to finesse the tip of your weapon into one of the gaps in her armour. As longs as she stands still, that is.
With as much subtlety as your amour allows, you come to stand behind her, rapier raised and ready to strike. Just as you are about to go for the gap underneath her helmet, however, she whips around, throwing knife uncomfortably close to your eyes. “$playername, how cheap of you, sneaking up on me.”
You scoff, raising your buckler defensively. “Shut it, Mordey. It’s a bloody battle royale, not a duel. What did you expect?”
You don’t give her any time to answer your rhetorical question as you throw yourself at her, your buckler striking out towards her hands in the hopes of knocking the knives from her grip. She bends her knees and crouches down to avoid your strike, going for your legs instead. You can feel one of her knives scratching along the backside of your left knee, and you bend your legs instinctively to protect them.
Mordey uses her leverage to her advantage and pulls you to the ground with her, soon dissolving your fight into a desperate scuffle through the dirt. You manage to gain somewhat of an upper hand as there isn’t much she can do against the blunt strikes from your buckler, but she refuses to let herself be disarmed and from this position, you can’t use your rapier effectively. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You raise your spear carefully into position, slowly creeping towards her as you do so. All you need to do is target one of the joints and gaps in her armour with precision. Easy enough, as long as she stands still.
With as much subtlety as your armour allows, you come to stand behind her, spear raised and ready to strike. Just as you are about to go for a quick stab to the back of her knee, however, she whips around, throwing knives pointed in the direction of your face. “$playername, how cheap of you, sneaking up on me.”
You scoff, adjusting the grip on your spear. “It’s a valid strategy, Mordey. Not that you’d know.”
You don’t give her time to come up with a retort to your insult as you throw yourself at her, using the shaft of your spear to swipe at her legs in the hopes of toppling her. She deftly jumps across it, aiming a kick at your own legs in return.
You bend your legs instinctively to shift your centre of gravity and stabilise your footing. It turns out to be the wrong move, however, as Mordey suddenly takes a swipe at you face instead.
You twist to the side in order to dodge her knife, but Mordey simply hooks a leg around you and pulls you to the ground with her, soon dissolving your fight into a desperate scuffle through the dirt. You manage to gain somewhat of an upper hand as there isn’t much she can do against the heavier weight of your armour, but she refuses to let herself be disarmed and from this position, you can’t use your spear effectively. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You grip your daggers tightly, prepared to use them in the blink of an eye. Silently, almost unnaturally so, you stalk towards her with the intent of getting an arm around her and going for the gap underneath her helmet.
It should be easy enough as long as she stands still. However, despite your utmost subtlety, just as you are about to attack her, she whips around, throwing knife uncomfortably close to your eyes. “$playername, I almost didn’t see you there. Though I should have known that you would resort to cheap tactics such as these.”
You scoff, raising your daggers in anticipation. “Just insult my fighting style, why don’t you? We’ll see who’s victorious.”
You don’t give her time to come up with a retort to your taunt as you throw yourself at her, swiping at her in an unusual rhythm in the hopes of toppling her. She staggers backwards, using her own knives to parry your strikes. The two of you almost fall into a sort of dance, blades flashing, before Mordey suddenly catches you off guard by throwing one of her knives directly underneath your feet.
You try to step around it but lose some of your balance. Mordey uses this opening to barrel into you, knocking you over and pulling you to the ground with her, soon dissolving your fight into a desperate scuffle through the dirt. You manage to gain somewhat of an upper hand as the sharpness of your daggers forces her to be careful, but she refuses to let herself be disarmed and you arrive at a sort of stalemate. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You raise your shield in front of you, sword held carefully at your side. All you have to do is barrel into her full force before she notices you approaching, and that will surely force her to drop her knives in order to avoid hurting herself.
With a steadying breath, you ready yourself to charge at her. It might not be the most elegant tactic, but in your experience, knocking into someone with your shield at least stuns them for a bit if nothing else. You begin sprinting at her with full force, but the heavy clinking of your armour must have given you away. Mordey whips around, knives raised and ready to dodge. “You’re not very subtle, $playername.”
You scoff, continuing your charge. “I’m strong enough to have no need for subtlety.”
You don’t give her the chance to refute you as you throw yourself at her, shield raised to protect yourself from her blades. With an impact strong enough to knock the air out of both of your lungs, you crash into her, sending both of you to the ground.
Your fight immediately dissolves into a desperate scuffle through the dirt. You gain the upper hand due to the weight of your armour and the impenetrable defence of your shield, but Mordey refuses to let herself be disarmed. She angles her hands and weapons away from you, and from this position you are neither able to reach her with your hands nor use your sword effectively. <<endif>>\
While you are trying to wrestle the knives from her hands, you don’t notice the person looming above you until Mordey suddenly goes still. The tip of an arrow is pressed into the gap underneath her helmet. Vynn’s hands are perfectly still as a triumphant grin spreads across their face.
“Blade on your neck means you’re out, Mordey,” you say as you let her go. Her eyes darken for a second before she lets out a sigh and closes them in defeat. Immediately, Vynn lowers their bow and instead helps pull you to your feet.
“That was almost dull,” they say. “Seems being across the arena from us didn’t do you any favours.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have any time to waste on gloating,” Mordey spits from her position on the ground. You can hear footsteps approaching you from behind. More than one pair.
You whirl around to see Fowain and Melinda approaching you, seemingly teamed up.
Melinda steps forth with a challenging twirl of her twin ball flail. “Two on two seems a bit more fair, don’t you think?”
Vynn turns to you. “As much fun as it was to swoop in and snatch away your victory, we might have to fight side by side on this one.”
[["Agreed. Let's show off some of our team work."|Chapter2.6C]]Vynn joins you at your side, bow exchanged for their sword and left hand raised and ready to unleash their magic. The two of you will have to go all out against Melinda and Mordey, but you’re confident. No other pair in your year of knights has ever managed to beat you and Vynn, and today won’t be any different.
The four of you remain in somewhat of a stand-off for a few seconds, no one daring to make the first move. It is too late to discuss strategies with Vynn now, but you don’t need to. Whatever tactic you end up using, Vynn will adapt to it, formless and smooth like the water magic they wield.
Mordey ends up being the one to strike first, throwing knife raised and already soaring towards you. With unparalleled reaction time, Vynn throws up their hand, summoning a dripping ball of water right in front of you. The throwing knife passes through it, slowed down by the water’s resistance, and falls harmlessly to the ground at your feet. You quickly kick it behind you.
These throwing knives could turn out to be a real hassle, and so you take a step forward to advance on Mordey. The orb of water circles around you, like a protective sentry.
<<if $element == "fire">> You raise your rapier and go in for a thrust, but Melinda steps in front of Mordey, deflecting your attack with a whirl of her flail. You only narrowly manage to duck just in time to avoid another throwing knife. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You raise your spear and go in for a thrust, but Melinda steps in front of Mordey, deflecting your attack with a whirl of her flail. You only narrowly manage to duck just in time to avoid another throwing knife <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You raise your daggers and go in for a slice, but Melinda steps in front of Mordey, deflecting your attack with a whirl of her flail. You only narrowly manage to duck just in time to avoid another throwing knife. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You raise your sword and go in for a horizontal slice, but Melinda steps in front of Mordey, deflecting your attack with a whirl of her flail. You only narrowly manage to duck just in time to avoid another throwing knife.<<endif>>\
“That’s getting on my nerves, Mordey,” Vynn exclaims and rushes her, taking a decisive swipe at her with their sword. You can hear the clanging of metal against metal from their exchange, but all of your attention is focused on the threat in front of you. Melinda twirls her flail above her head, almost teasingly, daring you to come closer and attack. Before you can decide to take the bait or not, she makes the decision for you.
<<if $element == "fire">>Her twin ball flail descends upon you with maddening speed. You’ve lost your buckler in your previous fight, so the only thing left to do is dodge. You twist to the side, just barely avoiding the spiked metal. Instead, it hits the dirt next to your feet with a thump.
As fast as you can, you stab downwards with your rapier, right through the chains of Melinda’s weapon, effectively pinning it to the ground. She scowls at you before trying to tug her weapon lose. It is futile, however, and you deliver a swift kick to her hands.
She curses but refuses to let go of her flail, refusing to be disarmed. “Mordey, a little help,” she shouts as you kick at her a second time, rapier remaining thoroughly burrowed in the dirt. You know it won’t give out that easily, despite its somewhat dainty appearance.
“Busy!” Mordey yells in frustration. Your eyes flicker towards her and Vynn just long enough to make sure everything is going well – they are still trading blows, though Mordey has lost quite a few of her knives.
Kicking at Melinda’s hands doesn’t seem to be enough, so you go for something a little more unconventional. Although you yourself don’t know any water magic, you know for a fact that your fire magic can interact with Vynn’s conjured water. You’ve done it countless times before to create smokescreens or heat up bathing water.
One hand remains tightly on your rapier while you thrust the other into the orb of water. It immediately stops moving and you visualise it heating up, boiling, scalding. It only takes a few seconds before it’s hissing and bubbling, and Melinda realises instantly what you are about to do.
You can see her steeling herself, even as the water orb explodes into a mass of wet heat. It splashes against her armour, and she bears it for a while, but heat conducts quickly through metal plates and although the cloth and leather underneath protect her from getting burned too badly, it doesn’t stop the scalding heat from reaching her skin entirely.
Almost purely on instinct, Melinda drops her weapon and takes a few steps backwards, trying to get away from the water that has all but evaporated at this point. Immediately, she pulls of her helmet, face red and sweaty, but expression calm. “There was no way I could beat that,” she says with a wry smile. “What a dangerous combination of magic.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> Her twin ball flail descends upon you with maddening speed. You could try and dodge out of the way, but you get the idea that prolonging this fight isn’t a good idea. Instead, you grip your spear with both hands and hold it out in front of you horizontally. The chain of Melinda’s flail crashes into it, almost knocking the spear out of your hands, but you hold steadfast. The flail wraps itself around the shaft instead, spiked balls digging into the wood.
Melinda curses and tugs at her weapon, but nothing gives. As quickly and steadily as you can, you twist your spear around and around, pulling the flail’s chain even tighter around it. Like a fish being reeled in, Melinda has to take a step towards you, but she refuses to be disarmed and keeps clinging to her weapon.
“Mordey, a little help,” she shouts as you twist your spear a bit more.
“Busy!” Mordey yells in frustration. Your eyes flicker towards her and Vynn just long enough to make sure everything is going well – they are still trading blows, though Mordey has lost quite a few of her knives.
You and Melinda have entered a sort of tug-of-war over your intertwined weapons and neither of you seems willing to give in. If you don’t think of something else fast, there’s no guarantee that you can overcome her on strength alone. Somehow, you’ll have to catch Melinda off guard.
With both of your hands gripping your spear tightly, you throw yourself forward, putting your entire weight behind the push. Melinda lets out a surprised gasp and tries to step backwards, but you don’t relent. Soon you are chest to chest with her, the spiked balls of her flail scratching at your armour and your spear trapped between you two.
Still, you keep on advancing, and it doesn’t take long before Melinda’s footing fails her, and she trips over the uneven ground. At the very last second you pull back, yanking once more on your spear. This final tug combined with gravity pulling Melinda downwards onto her back finally wrenches her weapon from her iron grip. She falls to the ground, disarmed.
A sigh escapes her, and she lets her head fall back in defeat. “Not bad, $playername. Not bad." You don’t hesitate to reach out your hand and help her back onto her feet. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> Her twin ball flail descends upon you with maddening speed. Instinctively, you dodge out of the way with a quick step to the side. With the grace of a dancer, you move around her in a circle, even as she continues swinging at you. All the while you bide your time, waiting for that singular moment to strike.
It doesn’t take particularly long. Melinda puts a bit too much strength into one of her swings, spurned on by frustration, and her twin ball flail hits the dirt next to your feet instead. You crouch down immediately, twin daggers at the ready, and pounce on the weapon. Before Melinda can retrieve it, you are already crushing the chain of her flail underneath your boots, daggers swiping at her hands in the hopes she’ll let go.
Melinda curses as she tugs at her weapon to no avail, your lower centre of gravity making it difficult to pry out from under your crouched form. “Mordey, a little help,” she shouts while looking very much like someone playing tug-of-war with a dog.
“Busy!” Mordey yells in frustration. Your eyes flicker towards her and Vynn just long enough to make sure everything is going well – they are still trading blows, though Mordey has lost quite a few of her knives.
Even though it might seem like you have the upper hand, it really is more of a stalemate. You can’t effectively reach Melinda with your daggers from this position without giving up your advantage. Nothing happens for a while as you ponder your options. Maybe a little magic would go a long way? As you need to stay still while casting anyway, now might be a good time.
With a deep breath to centre yourself, you begin focusing on your magic. Your daggers help you to channel it, and the type of illusion you want to create flickers across your mind’s eye. Something that would scare Melinda into letting go of her weapon. A few things come to mind, but you end up settling on something at least somewhat realistic: a snake in the dirt.
The air next to you begins to shimmer and shift, but it isn’t noticeable to someone who isn’t looking for it. As if it formed itself right out of the dirt, a snake is suddenly slithering along it. Small and emerald green, venomous but not deadly – a common type to find in Gaiapeia. It doesn’t take long for Melinda to spot it. She doesn’t shriek or anything undignified like that, but she jolts and tries to take a step backwards as the snake closes in on her. For a few more moments, she remains steadfast, clinging to her weapon while trying to kick the snake away. Illusions don’t fancy being kicked, however, and so instead it looks like the snake is slithering up her leg. She can’t seem to endure it any longer, letting go of her weapon and trying to shake off the snake instead.
It disappears into thin air, nothing more than smoke. Melinda shoots you a glare at first, but it quickly turns into admiration. “Well played, $playername. I admit it, you got me.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> Her twin ball flail descends upon you with maddening speed. Without sparing it any thought, you bring up your shield and block her blow. A few more follow in quick succession, but your defence holds fast. However, you know this isn’t a fight you should prolong.
After a particularly well-parried blow, you attempt a counterattack with your sword. You manage to hit Melinda’s shoulder, but her armour is enough to deflect your swipe and you end up not dealing any damage. It’ll take more than that.
You take the initiative and strike out with your shield in an attempt to knock her weapon out of her hands. She staggers backwards but her hold is firm. You strike again and again, favouring the blunt force of your shield over the sharpness of your blade. Melinda seems to struggle to stay upright under your assault, her eyes darting to Mordey in hopes of assistance.
Judging by the noises of frustration coming from her, however, you don’t think Mordey is in any position to help. Your eyes flicker towards her and Vynn just long enough to make sure everything is going well – they are still trading blows, though Mordey has lost quite a few of her knives.
Striking Melinda with your shield doesn’t seem to be enough, so you try to think of a more nuanced approach. Vynn’s orb of conjured water is still floating around you, maybe that could be of use? With the vague sense that this might not work at all, you patiently wait until the orb is hovering right in front of you before you suddenly bash it with your shield. Water sprays everywhere and hundreds of tiny droplets are flung against you and Melinda.
Although it didn’t do much, you can see Melinda close her eyes to protect them from the water, just for a second. It’s all you need. With the might of a raging everboar, you throw your entire weight into one last strike of your shield while at the same time aiming the tip of your sword at the joint near Melinda’s right elbow.
She sputters and fumbles against your combined attack, twisting her arm away from your sword, trying desperately to keep a hold of her weapon while blinking her eyes open. It’s not enough, she doesn’t succeed, and her twin ball flail slips from her grasp. It hits the ground between you with a sad thump.
A look of resignation passes over Melinda’s face as she wipes the water away. “That was pretty clever, $playername,” she concedes with a wry smile. <<endif>>\
“You’ve fought well,” you say and see her off with a nod of respect.
With Melinda out of the game, taking out Mordey next should be child’s play. You join Vynn in attacking her outright, and between the two of you, she stands no chance. One after the other, you manage to knock the knives out of her hands, while you and Vynn remain steadfast. Soon, she only has a single one left, held tightly in her left hand while the right rubs at her wrist.
Mordey’s cold eyes glance between the two of you, and slowly all defiance and determination leaves her. In an unexpected gesture of submission, she simply lets her last knife fall to the ground.
“I know when I am beaten,” she gives you a withering look, “and I know when my aspirations are foolish.”
With these words, she simply squares her shoulders and strides away as if all of this was beneath her.
“Sore loser,” you hear Vynn mutter next to you.
“She lost the moment she even so much as considered to surrender,” you say with a sigh, exhaustion starting to pull at your muscles.
In a brief moment of respite, you take a look at your surroundings. The crowd has thinned remarkably, in fact, there is only a handful of people left. Three knights and the prince, all locked in combat, you realise. While you consider how to approach this situation, the choice is immediately taken from you as you watch Az’Lean defeat them all in one fell swoop. It's so fast that you can barely tell what happened, but you are certain that he must have used his ice magic. Eerie wisps of fog rise from his black gauntlet and the tips of the clawed fingers look like they were dipped in frost.
While the three knights pick up their weapons and retreat, the prince takes a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. Then, just like you have done mere moments ago, his blue eyes scan the arena, widening at the realisation that there is barely anyone left, before settling on you and Vynn.
“Here he comes,” Vynn whispers to you, switching back to their bow. “I can’t believe we’re fighting the prince.”
“We have to win,” you say, willing your reeling mind to calm down. “We have to.”
[[Prince Az'Lean approaches.|Chapter2.7]]Before you even get the chance to attack Mordey, something hits your left shoulder from behind, hard enough to leave you staggering forwards. You force yourself to turn around, just in time to see a magically propelled rock hurtling towards you.
“Am I not even worth your full attention?” Mordey yells but you’re too busy trying to not get your skull caved in by a flying rock.
<<if $element == "fire">> You just barely manage to deflect it with your buckler, though your arm is left stinging form the impact and you can hear the wood splintering. It won’t be able to block many more of those projectiles. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You manage to block it easily with your shield, though your arm is left stinging and trembling from the impact. You won’t be able to block this kind of projectile indefinitely. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You just barely manage to dodge the next rock in time, and it smashes into the dirt next to you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you idly spin your daggers in anticipation. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You just barely manage to duck in time to avoid the next rock, and it smashes into the dirt behind you. One wrong move and you’re done for, you realise while gripping your spear tighter to steady yourself. <<endif>>\
“Vynn, someone’s trying to snipe me with earth magic. Can you take them out?”
Vynn answers you with a grunt and the sound of clanging metal as they try to defend against Mordey’s knives with their sword. “Bit busy here, $playername.”
“Let’s swap,” you say. Before Vynn can protest, you swiftly move around them, just in time to bat one of Mordey’s throwing knives out of the air with your weapon.
“Finally ready to face me, are you?” Mordey doesn’t attempt to hide her sneer, beckoning you towards her with her index finger. You have no choice but to oblige.
<<if $element == "fire">> You waste no time stepping towards her, thrusting forward with your rapier in one smooth motion. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You waste no time stepping towards her, thrusting forward with your spear in one precise strike. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You waste no time stepping towards her, swiping your sword at her horizontally. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You waste no time stepping towards her, swiping your daggers at her in quick succession. <<endif>>\
Mordey twists out of the way at the last second, aiming for your face with one of her daggers. You can feel the cold steel brush against your ear just barely, but she misses. You quickly close the distance between you, trying to trip her up with a swift kick to the knee.
With frustrating elegance, she retains her balance, swiping at you with a fist full of knives once more. You block the blades with your weapon, but at the very last second she releases one of the knives and sends it flying instead. It hits the inside of your arm, lodging itself into the joint of your armour near your elbow. It doesn’t pierce the layer of chainmail underneath, but it’s stuck there and restricts your movement.
<<if $element == "fire">> You frantically block her next attack with your buckler while trying to dislodge the knife without causing any damage to yourself. Unfortunately, the earthen projectiles from earlier have damaged your buckler heavily, and so with a few well-aimed stabs, Mordey manages to break it completely.
In one swift motion, you take off and throw the broken buckler at her to distract her, buying yourself just enough time to free the knife from your armour. You throw that at her as well for good measure. While Mordey is busy dodging one of her own knives, you quickly follow it up with another thrust from your rapier, aiming carefully.
You strike true, finessing the tip of your weapon into the gap between her chestplate and her pauldron. It comes to rest against her neck and both of you freeze, breathing heavily from your exchange. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You quickly deflect her next attack with your spear, but are forced to only hold it on one hand in order to dislodge the knife without causing damage to yourself. It’s a precarious situation and your heart threatens to beat out of your chest as you frantically try to keep your grip on you weapon tight.
With steady hands and one precise motion, you finally get the knife out of your armour and waste no time before throwing it at Mordey. While she is busy dodging her own weapon, you hold your spear in both hands once more and instantly follow up with another thrust. Carefully, you aim for the gap beneath her helmet.
Whether through luck or skill, you manage to catch the edge of Mordey’s helmet with the tip of your spear, sending it flying with one swift strike. The loss of it leaves Mordey flustered for only a split second, but it’s all you need to manoeuvre the tip of your spear under her chin. You both freeze, beathing heavily.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You quickly block her next attack with your shield, but are forced to sheathe your sword to free up your hand. It’s a dangerous situation, but you need to get the knife out of your armour as quickly as possible.
In one fluid motion, you manage to dislodge the knife and throw it at Mordey. While she is busy dodging her own weapon, you quickly draw your sword again before taking a stab at her. She evades your first attack, but you keep at it in an attempt to wear her down. A few of her knives are sticking out of your shield at this point and her options are dwindling.
Finally, desperate to hold on to her last remaining knife, Mordey trips up, putting to much force into her swipe and staggering a little. You use the opportunity to strike her with your shield, forcing her head to the side and revealing a gap underneath her helmet. Immediately, you finesse the tip of your sword into the gap and against her neck. You both freeze, breathing heavily. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You quickly deflect her next attack with one of your daggers, but are forced to sheathe the other one to free up your hand. It’s a dangerous situation, but you need to get the knife out of your armour as quickly as possible.
In one fluid motion, you manage to dislodge the knife and throw it at Mordey. While she is busy dodging her own weapon, you quickly draw your second dagger again before letting a flurry of stabs and swipes rain down upon her. You know she won’t be able to keep up with you for much longer.
Finally, Mordey does indeed slow down and her movements turn sloppy. You use the opportunity to deliver a swift kick to her side and throw her off balance. She falls down onto one knee and you tear her helmet off of her head before slipping one of your daggers underneath her chin. You both freeze, breathing heavily. <<endif>>\
“Blade against your neck, Mordey. Seems like I win,” you say as satisfaction blooms in your chest.
“Your desperation to win makes you fight well, I do have to admit that,” Mordey says with a barely contained sneer. “But I won’t congratulate you.”
You retract your weapon. “I suppose that is fair.” Without another word Mordey stalks off, leaving even fewer knights in the arena. It has gotten a lot quieter, apart from the crowd's cheers.
As you turn around to look for Vynn, you barely dodge Fowain and Melinda who are barrelling past you, engaged in a vicious duel. To your surprise, the prince himself is hot on their heels, seemingly intent to get in on the action. You finally spot Vynn a few paces away, busy picking up their own arrows off the ground.
“Did you get them?” you ask as you join them. “Mordey wasn’t a problem.”
“A shame I couldn’t get in on that. Though I have to say, facing off against another ranged fighter was surprisingly fun. A good challenge, I suppose,” Vynn drawls nonchalantly while surveying the arena. “There’s barely anyone left.”
You do the same, carefully letting your eyes roam across the entire field. In truth, the only ones left aside from you two are Melinda, Fowain, and Prince Az’Lean, who has taken it upon himself to fight both of them at the same time.
While you consider whether to join the fray or wait until they’re done, the decision is made for you in one magnificent strike. Prince Az’Lean somehow manages to disarm both of them at the same time. It is so fast that you can barely tell what happened, but you are certain that he must have used his ice magic. Eerie wisps of fog rise from his black gauntlet and the tips of the clawed fingers look like they were dipped in frost.
While the two knights pick up their weapons and retreat, the prince takes a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. Then, just like you have done mere moments ago, his blue eyes scan the arena, widening at the realisation that there is barely anyone left, before settling on you and Vynn.
“Here he comes,” Vynn whispers to you, readying their bow. “I can’t believe we’re fighting the prince.”
“We have to win,” you say, willing your reeling mind to calm down. “We have to.”
[[Prince Az'Lean approaches.|Chapter2.7]]Before you and Vynn get the chance to engage Melinda and Fowain, another group of knights advances on you from the other side, and you find yourselves in a more than disadvantageous situation. It is only a matter of time until a battle royale descends into chaos, and it seems that time has come now. The number of combatants has been halved already, and those that remain are determined to win.
Disadvantageous or not, you’ll simply have to adapt. Without having to coordinate at all, you and Vynn immediately stand back-to-back, surrounded on all sides like an immovable fortress in the middle of a siege. Even through multiple layers of armour, you can feel Vynn’s presence behind you as clear as day. It fills you with a feeling of security, despite your circumstances.
All hell breaks loose. Arrows and different kinds of magical projectiles keep whizzing past you, strikes seem to come from all directions and Vynn’s elbow keeps bumping into your side. Dredged up dirt and smoke from someone’s magic make it difficult to keep track of everything, and you can barely block most incoming attacks while keeping a firm grip on your weapon.
<<if $element == "fire">> At some point during the fighting, Fowain ends up running the tip of his spear clean through your buckler, and you’re forced to part with it. Having only a rapier in this kind of fight isn’t ideal, but you make do. You use your own fire magic to whip up some more smoke, effectively blinding the knights around you and sending them into coughing fits. You don’t see who ends up taking out Fowain, too focused on yourself.
More and more strikes are coming dangerously close to disarming you or doing actual damage, and you know nasty bruises must be forming already. You won’t be able to keep this up much longer, but determination gives you the strength you need. Forgoing all precision, you stab your rapier into the group in a frenzy. You barely know what you’re doing anymore. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> At some point during the fighting, you almost drop your spear as someone’s magical flames set the shaft on fire, but you manage to simply pat it out with your gauntlets. The shock of it leaves you reeling for a second, however, and Fowain manages to cut your cheek with the tip of his spear before someone else knocks into him and sends him to the ground. You don’t see who ends up taking out Fowain, too focused on regaining your composure.
More and more strikes are coming dangerously close to disarming you or doing actual damage, and you know nasty bruises must be forming already. You won’t be able to keep this up much longer, but your serenity gives you the strength you need. Focusing on simply staying in the fight longer than anybody else, you use your spear to repeatedly stab into the group, hoping it’ll deter them from coming closer. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> At some point during the fighting, an arrow comes a bit too close to your eye for comfort, and you’re forced to realise that despite this being a friendly tournament, accidents can happen and nothing prevents them from being deadly. It leaves you doubting your own attacks, worrying about hurting someone, even as you carefully knock the spear out of Fowain’s hands.
More and more strikes are coming dangerously close to disarming you or doing actual damage, and you know nasty bruises must be forming already. You won’t be able to keep this up much longer, but your stubbornness gives you the strength you need. Focusing on simply staying in the fight longer than anybody else, you don’t at all mind relying on your shield most of all. It is most effective at knocking people around, hoping they’ll take each other out instead. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> At some point during the fighting, you almost get one of your daggers knocked out of your hand as someone’s hammer knocks into your elbow. It leaves you stunned for a second and you barely manage to parry a stab from Fowain’s spear. At the same time, someone else is attacking Fowain from behind, and you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see him being knocked out.
More and more strikes are coming dangerously close to disarming you or doing actual damage, and you know nasty bruises must be forming already. You won’t be able to keep this up much longer, but your levelheadedness gives you the strength you need. Not letting the chaos distract you, you simply focus on attacking the people in front of you with one hand, while using the other to whip up some minor illusions to confuse the others even more. <<endif>>\
The longer this goes on, the sloppier your fighting becomes, but you don’t care. Melinda seems to be in a similar state, throwing her flail around like a madwoman. Without even putting any real thought into it, you manage to simply wrench Melinda’s flail out of her hands by grabbing it tightly and sending her flying backwards with a desperate kick. No time for honour in this fight. You chuck her twin ball flail into the mess of fighting knights, hoping it’ll do some damage.
Something hard suddenly hits your head and you realise quickly that it was Vynn getting knocked back. You wish you could turn around and help them, but you have to trust in their ability to handle themselves. Vynn doesn’t disappoint, and soon the two of you end up leaning heavily against each other, exhausted and bruised but left standing. All around you lie broken arrows and discarded weapons, and a mostly empty battlefield.
“There can’t be many left after that,” Vynn presses out between clenched teeth. Slowly, they gather themselves and stand up straight, surveying the area.
You do the same, carefully letting your eyes roam across the entire field. The crowd has thinned remarkably, in fact, there is only a handful of people left. Three knights and the prince, all locked in combat, you notice. While you consider how to approach this situation, the choice is immediately taken from you when you watch Az’Lean defeat them all in one fell swoop. It is so fast that you can barely tell what happened, but you are certain that he must have used his ice magic. Eerie wisps of fog rise from his black gauntlet and the tips of the clawed fingers look like they were dipped in frost.
While the three knights pick up their weapons and retreat, the prince takes a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. Then, just like you have done mere moments ago, his blue eyes scan the arena, widening at the realization that it is all but empty, before settling on you and Vynn.
“Here he comes,” Vynn whispers to you, switching back to their bow. “I can’t believe we’re fighting the prince.”
“We have to win,” you say, willing your reeling mind to calm down. “We have to.”
[[Prince Az'Lean approaches.|Chapter2.7]]No, you’re overthinking this. You should just stick to teaming up with Vynn and defeat the prince together. That’s the strategy that will most likely allow you to win.
With a new surge of determination, you join Vynn in attacking Prince Az’Lean from two sides. Since his clawed gauntlet undoubtedly counts as a weapon, disarming him will be nigh impossible. You’ll have to defeat him through other means, though you don’t look forward to having to hold your weapon against the neck of your prince. It’s not something you ever expected to deal with, to be honest.
“You two make a formidable team,” Prince Az’Lean says while blocking Vynn’s attacks with his sword and yours with his gauntlet. Even though you should clearly have the upper hand in this encounter, it is somewhat concerning that he still finds the time to compliment his opponents.
“That is high praise coming from an esteemed fighter such as yourself,” Vynn says through gritted teeth, forgoing any kind of proper address in the heat of battle. “If I were someone who enjoyed fighting, I’d say it’s an honour.”
You roll your eyes at their impunity. “Then let me say it for you: It truly is an honour, your majesty.” You underline the last word with a particularly powerful strike from your weapon.
Prince Az’Lean staggers a bit, but an amused grin lights up his face. “Even though neither of you will be able to best me, it was worth it for the entertainment alone.”
You think he could stand to take you a bit more seriously, and you show it with your attacks. Fast and precise, aiming to break through his defences and create an opportunity for Vynn to follow up. It will only take one misstep, one slip-up, one second of lost focus for the prince to leave an opening, and then it would be easy to quickly press the tip of your weapon against his neck. It is almost funny that the three fighters who have chosen not to wear helmets are the last ones standing.
As the fighting goes on, however, and every single one of your strikes is parried or blocked, you start to wonder whether Prince Az’Lean will ever make a mistake. Or maybe it would be more correct to say that you and Vynn are losing steam – your attacks are getting slower and exhaustion threatens to catch up to you.
In the end, it isn’t the prince who falters. One moment Vynn is next to you, attacking with their sword relentlessly, the next they are slipping on the mud they themselves have created, boots loosing their footing and sliding away. The prince is on them in a split second, reacting to their fall before it happens. Vynn’s sword is knocked out of their hands as they fall on their knees, and before they can even attempt to draw their bow, Prince Az’Lean’s blade is brushing past their purple scarf and against their exposed neck. You both freeze.
“Well fought,” the prince says between two deep breaths, shoulders heaving.
Vynn’s brown eyes are wide, and you can’t help but think of a deer, caught by a predator. Their gaze flits to you. Their voice is barely a whisper, shocked as if they’d just seen their life flash before their eyes. “I guess you’ll have to finish this on your own, $playername.”
“I won’t let you down,” you promise. You’d known that this would end with only one person winning of course, but to think that it would end in you having to face off against the prince on your own… You can barely contain the storm of conflicting emotions within you.
The crowd goes absolutely wild as Vynn is forced to retreat from the battlefield. You don’t have time to consider what the look on their face means. You don’t even have time to catch your breath.
This is it. Only you and Az’Lean are left. Either you will be his Champion, or no one. It should be a relief, knowing that at least the position can’t be stolen from you, but you dread what’s to come. It’s not only your ability to win a fight against him that you doubt. You truly simply loathe the thought of raising your weapon against him, even more so now that Vynn isn’t here to help you.
But you don’t have the time to ponder any of that.
[[Prince Az’Lean attacks.|Chapter2.9]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
Although you feel a little bit guilty about it, you realise that you need to show Prince Az’Lean your capabilities as a protector. Surely Vynn will understand your intention.
With a new surge of determination, you step in front of the prince, just in time to block one of Vynn’s attacks. A surprised laugh escapes the prince as you forcefully shove him behind you. Vynn, on the other hand, doesn’t seem surprised at all.
“I was wondering when you’d turn on me,” they say with a teasing smirk. “How else can you demonstrate your ability to be a knight in shining armour if there isn’t a damsel to save and a villain to defeat? I don’t mind playing the villain for a little while.”
You can’t help but gape at Vynn’s utter lack of propriety. “You can’t just call the prince a damsel!”
“I’ll say,” Prince Az’Lean chimes in, clearly amused by this development. At least he’s having fun on his birthday, you think.
“Seems like you’ll have to defeat me in order to defend his honour.” Vynn underlines the last word with a particularly fierce strike from their sword, sending a painful tremor through your arm as you block it. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you, just because I know how much you want to win this.”
Despite their playful words, you can’t help but sense a certain resentment in the way Vynn keeps bashing their sword against you. It stings, in more ways than one. Even though there are a lot of things you might want to say to them, now is not the time. You’ll need to focus every bit of your attention on winning this fight while keeping an eye on the prince. Vynn might try to go for him, or the prince himself might decide to join the fray again and attack you. No matter, you’ll protect him without fail in either case.
While Vynn’s ferocity leaves you little choice but to focus on defence, you don’t mind at all. At this rate, they’ll tire themselves out before they can defeat you. In general, you would estimate that your and Vynn’s combat skills are about evenly matched. When it comes to sparring, however, you win against them nine times out of ten. With their focus lying so heavily on ranged attacks, they don’t stand a chance against you in close combat.
You both know how this will end. Besides, you know for certain that Vynn doesn’t even want to become the prince’s Champion. So for them to still give it their all, to attack without holding back… While it makes your heart swell with pride, it also leaves you wondering whether there is something about Vynn you don’t yet understand.
Regardless, even attacking full force isn’t enough for Vynn to outmanoeuvre you. One moment they are bashing their sword against your weapon, the next they are slipping on the mud they themselves have created. You pounce on them immediately, hoping to trip them up, and it’s not difficult to knock them down onto one knee. Vynn’s arms flail as they try to steady themselves and you use the opening to brush the tip of your weapon past their purple scarf and beneath their chin.
You both freeze instantly, staring at each other. “That was incredible, Vynn. Well fought.”
A shaky breath pushes past their lips. “Congratulations, $playername. You have successfully protected the prince from this evil villain.” You’re relieved that their tone is joking.
You quickly help them onto their feet and send them off with a pat on the back. “Thanks for getting me this far, Vynn.”
“Anything for you,” they say with an unreadable expression.
The crowd goes absolutely wild as Vynn is forced to retreat from the battlefield. You don’t have time to consider what the look on their face means. You don’t even have time to catch your breath.
This is it. Only you and Az’Lean are left. Either you will be his Champion, or no one. It should be a relief, knowing that at least the position can’t be stolen from you, but you dread what’s to come. It’s not only your ability to win a fight against him that you doubt. You truly simply loathe the thought of raising your weapon against him, even more so now that Vynn isn’t here to help you.
But you don’t have the time to ponder any of that.
[[Prince Az’Lean attacks.|Chapter2.9]]Without much ado, Prince Az’Lean and you fall into a sort of rhythm of attack and defence, advance and retreat. Your footwork is synchronized to the point that it must look somewhat like a dance from the outside, though for you it feels more like a tightrope walk. One wrong move would mean the end of all your childhood hopes and dreams.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “I say it’s about time the two of us get serious, Sir $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “I say it’s about time the two of us get serious, Lady $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “I say it’s about time the two of us get serious, Chev $playername Grahm.” <<endif>>\
The intensity of his attacks increases, his feet moving quickly despite the sticky mud, and you can feel your arms starting to ache from the force of it. The only upside to this rapid clashing of steel is that Prince Az’Lean doesn’t have time to cast any magic. Neither do you, to be fair, though you don’t think it would give you an edge over him. <<if $element == "fire">> Even though one would think fire magic would trump ice magic, that isn’t always the case. Magic is much more unpredictable than that. <<endif>>\
His speed is concerning, as it is not only difficult for your body to keep up with him, but for your mind too. How are you supposed to develop a strategy when your thoughts are lagging behind so severely? You might have to rely on instinct instead.
<<if $element == "fire">> Your rapier scrapes past the length of Az’Lean’s sword, but he knocks it aside with his gauntlet before the tip can find purchase in the joints of his armour. Immediately, he moves to counterattack, slashing at you horizontally. You duck underneath it, an unconventional move but not without purpose. One advantage you have over him is that your non-dominant hand is free.
While you are crouching down to evade his attack, you use your free hand to steady yourself on the ground and kick up at him with both feet in one swift motion.
The prince stumbles backwards to evade your attack while you propel yourself upright again in a kip-up, landing securely on your feet. You use the forward momentum to stab at him with your rapier one more time. He manages to deflect it with his gauntlet at the last second, but instead of pulling away and recentring yourself, you instead grip your rapier with both hands and correct its course back towards the prince.
Az’Lean grits his teeth but doesn’t back down, swinging at you with his sword instead. You aren’t sure how this is going to go, but you’ve already put all of your strength into this one final stab, so there is no turning back now. The tip of your rapier hits his chest plate, but instead of being deflected it scratches across it all the way up to his exposed neck. At the very same time, Az’Lean’s sword connects with your left pauldron, sliding across your shoulder.
Something cold presses against your neck. Even though your hands are shaking, you are gripping your rapier tightly and its tip is pressed against the prince’s neck in turn. You freeze in shock, even as your entire body protests against the strain to remain rigid. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> Try as you might, your spear keeps getting bashed aside by his gauntlet, no matter how many times you thrust at him. After a particularly forceful stab, he moves to counterattack, slashing at you horizontally. Your longer reach makes his sword easy to evade, but instead of moving backwards, you use the slippery ground under your feet to slide through beneath it. Crouched down low, you immediately use your spear to stab upwards at his exposed neck.
The prince stumbles backwards to evade your attack while you spring back up, using your spear as leverage. Using the momentum, you thrust at him one more time. He manages to deflect it with his gauntlet at the last second, but instead of pulling away and recentring yourself, you instead grip your spear tighter and correct its course back towards the prince.
Az’Lean grits his teeth but doesn’t back down, swinging at you with his sword instead. You aren’t sure how this is going to go, but you’ve already put all of your strength into this one final stab, so there is no turning back now. The tip of your spear hits his chest plate, but instead of being deflected it scratches across it all the way up to his exposed neck. At the very same time, Az’Lean’s sword connects with your left pauldron, sliding across your shoulder.
Something cold presses against your neck. Even though your hands are shaking, you are gripping your spear tightly and its tip is pressed against the prince’s neck in turn. You freeze in shock, even as your entire body protests against the strain to remain rigid. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> No matter how many times you try to catch him off guard, the prince’s defence is just as thorough as your own. Your sword keeps getting swatted away by his gauntlet like it’s nothing. You try to change it up and go for a precise thrust instead of a slash, but he immediately moves to counterattack, moving to slash at you horizontally. You could simply use your shield to block his attack, but you feel like it’s time for something more unconventional.
Instead of blocking, you crouch down and duck underneath his attack. Using your shield to cover your head, you stab upwards with your sword, hoping to catch the prince off guard. He stumbles backwards to evade your attack while you spring back upright. Using that momentum, you stab at him one more time. He manages to deflect your blade with his gauntlet at the last second, but instead of pulling away and recentring yourself, you instead grip your sword tighter and correct its course back towards the prince.
Az’Lean grits his teeth but doesn’t back down, swinging at you with his sword instead. You aren’t sure how this is going to go, but you’ve already put all of your strength into this one final stab, so there is no turning back now. The tip of your sword hits his chest plate, but instead of being deflected it scratches across it all the way up to his exposed neck. At the very same time, Az’Lean’s sword connects with your left pauldron, sliding across your shoulder.
Something cold presses against your neck. Even though your hands are shaking, you are gripping your sword tightly and its tip is pressed against the prince’s neck in turn. You freeze in shock, even as your entire body protests against the strain to remain rigid. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> No matter how many times you lunge at him with your daggers, the prince’s defence is more than thorough. He keeps parrying your right dagger with his clawed gauntlet and your left dagger with his sword. You try to change it up and go for a quick stab instead of a slash, but he immediately decides to counterattack, moving to slash at you horizontally. You could try to sidestep or parry his slash easily, but this calls for something more creative than that.
Instead of parrying, you crouch down and duck underneath his attack. Sacrificing one of your daggers, you throw it upwards at his face, hoping to catch the prince off guard. He stumbles backwards to evade your attack while you spring back upright. Using that momentum, you stab at him one more time. He manages to deflect your blade with his gauntlet at the last second, but instead of pulling away and recentring yourself, you instead grip your remaining dagger with both hands and correct its course back towards the prince.
Az’Lean grits his teeth but doesn’t back down, swinging at you with his sword instead. You aren’t sure how this is going to go, but you’ve already put all of your strength into this one final stab, so there is no turning back now. The tip of your dagger hits his chest plate, but instead of being deflected it scratches across it all the way up to his exposed neck. At the very same time, Az’Lean’s sword connects with your left pauldron, sliding across your shoulder.
Something cold presses against your neck. Even though your hands are shaking, you are gripping your dagger tightly and its tip is pressed against the prince’s neck in turn. You freeze in shock, even as your entire body protests against the strain to remain rigid. <<endif>>\
“A draw,” you breathe out, flabbergasted. “It’s a draw. What does that mean? What does a draw mean?”
His eyes widen a fraction. “I suppose I forgot to decide what happens in that case. I didn’t expect this.”
Something in your chest dislodges, and you hope that it is an emotional thing and not one of your ribs. “Please. I don’t want you to bend the rules for me, but… Would you really rather have no Champion at all than have me?”
Prince Az’Lean blinks at you, his gaze examining your expression closely. You’re not sure what he is hoping to find there. “It’s just that I don’t want anyone to lay down their life for me. Surely you understand.”
You don’t understand. He is your prince and will be your king. As a knight, or even as a guard or a servant, that sort of thing simply comes with the job. It is as natural as breathing for you, but he doesn’t want that. Is it because he does not want to be king, or is it because he feels that he isn’t worth it? The thought saddens you.
“Then let’s just agree to have each other’s backs,” you say, even though the notion of even implying you and him might be equals feels wrong to you. “This ended in a draw, so instead of just me protecting you, we can protect each other. The two strongest fighters of this generation together surely have little to fear.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so forward,” he says and chuckles, clearly taken aback. “But what you suggest does sound compelling.”
Hope blossoms in your chest and you can barely stand to keep looking at him. This is killing you. “So…?”
Prince Az’Lean’s face softens, mirth shining in his eyes.
[[“Yes. You will be my Champion.”|Chapter2.10]]<img src="images/Chap3.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 13th of the Cherry Moon
It ends up being almost midday before the prince turns up at the barracks. You have just finished packing the rest of your belongings when he appears in the doorway, unannounced and flanked by two servants.
Az’Lean is dressed a lot more casually than he was yesterday in simple black linen, but his sword doesn’t seem to ever leave his hip.
“Excuse me for just showing up, but we didn’t get to agree on a time yesterday,” he says as he steps inside. “I hope you’ve had a good morning.”
“I should be the one apologising for leaving so abruptly last night. I wasn’t feeling well. I’m fine now though”, you explain quickly, doing your best to not look like a total wreck. “How are you doing, your ma- I mean, Az’Lean?”
He smiles at the use of his name. “Never better, $playername. There’s a lot we need to do and discuss today, but if you start feeling unwell again, let me know. I know yesterday has been a lot and you deserve some rest.”
If only he knew how much you were really going through, but then again, him knowing might be the worst thing yet. “Thank you for your concern.”
Az’Lean claps his hands together and motions for the two servants at his side to come closer. “Now then, let’s get you moved into your new room first. George, Sam, would you kindly lend us a hand?”
“Of course, my prince. Though rather than just <i>lending you a hand</i>, I’d much rather prefer if you just let us do our job,” one of them grumbles as he picks up one of your boxes.
The other servant follows suit. “At least leave the heavy stuff to us.”
You begin piling stuff into your arms as well, though Az’Lean snatches some of it away for himself to carry. He either really wants to help or he feels like his strength has been insulted. Either way, he ends up carrying just as much as the servants.
You yourself are doing your part. These are your belongings you’re carrying, after all. It would feel wrong to let others do that work for you, much less the prince. Still, you are glad for the help. The alternative would have been making multiple trips.
The four of you form a sort of procession with Az’Lean leading the way. From the barracks, you make your way through a side gate in the castle wall directly onto the grounds. A discrete wooden door leads you inside into a bustling corridor, servants, guards and scholars alike roaming around.
“This is the entrance we’ll use most of the time. The main gate is really only for guests and official business, usually it remains fully closed,” Az’Lean explains. “This is the main hall of the southern wing. The drawing room and a few offices are down here. For now, we’ll go up these stairs on the left.”
“Are there usually this many people out and about?” you ask while adjusting your grip on the stuff you’re carrying.
“No, this is just because of the festivities yesterday. A lot of nobles and dignitaries are staying here at the moment. They’ll be gone by the end of the week, and then it’ll be much more quiet.” Az’Lean glances at you as you begin to ascend the uneven stone steps spiraling upwards. “Which do you prefer?”
[[“I like the constant noise and energy that a large group of people bring.”|Chapter3.2]]
[[“I prefer peace and quiet, so I’ll be looking forward to that.”|Chapter3.2]]By the looks of her embroidered dress and lavish jewellery, face scrunched up in distaste and arms-crossed, the woman who is standing in front of you is probably a noble. The scowl on her face lifts immediately as she spots Az’Lean behind you. She pushes past you without warning.
“I was looking for you everywhere, milord!” she exclaims in a sickly-sweet, high-pitched voice. “It must be fate that I found you here.”
“There’s really only so many places I would be at this hour,” Az’Lean says as he takes a few steps backwards, awkwardly shuffling the papers around in his arms. “Do you need something, Lady Aran?”
“I wanted to talk to you about that offer I made you yesterday. I know you might be reluctant to decide such matters now but I promise you that it’s not something you should put off.” She bats her eyelashes at him while closing the distance, very clearly stepping into his personal space.
Something dark flickers through Az’Lean’s eyes but he remains smiling politely. “As tempting as that sounds, I am afraid I am rather busy at the moment. I am giving $playername here a tour of the castle. Maybe we could get to this some other-”
<<if $pronoun == "his">> “Oh, of course, the illustrious new Champion,” Lady Aran croons while barely sparing you a glance. “I am sure he would understand that some matters take precedence. The castle isn’t going anywhere.” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "her">> “Oh, of course, the illustrious new Champion,” Lady Aran croons while barely sparing you a glance. “I am sure she would understand that some matters take precedence. The castle isn’t going anywhere.” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "their">> “Oh, of course, the illustrious new Champion,” Lady Aran croons while barely sparing you a glance. “I am sure they would understand that some matters take precedence. The castle isn’t going anywhere.” <<endif>>\
Lady Aran lays a delicate hand on Az’Leans arm, playfully tugging at his sleeve. “Pretty please, milord?”
Az’Lean stares at the papers in his arms as if he is contemplating just dropping them onto the ground. “I understand this is important, but now isn’t the time. You may make a formal request for an audience with me at a later date.”
“That’s ridiculous! I’ve never had to schedule an appointment with you before.” Lady Aran’s grip on Az’Lean tightens, ready to start dragging him away.
[[Step in calmly. She’s clearly overstepping and needs to be told off.|Chapter3.11A]]
[[Step in aggressively. She’s being a nuisance and you’ll personally escort her outside if necessary.|Chapter3.11B]]
[[How dare she lay her hands on Az’Lean! You grab her and roughly pull her off of him.|Chapter3.11C]]
[[Smoothly take the documents out of Az’Lean’s hands so he can push her away himself if he wants to.|Chapter3.11D]]
[[Wait and see what happens. Az’Lean is more than capable of dealing with someone like her on his own.|Chapter3.11E]]“Please, Lady Aran,” you interrupt while stepping between them, “respect his majesty’s wishes. I assure you, he is much more likely to consider your proposal favourably if you ask him when he isn’t busy with something else.”
The noblewoman seems to consider your words for a while, brow wrinkled in a mixture of genuine thought and obvious distaste. “I suppose there is some truth to what you say,” she says after a while. Her eyes remain trained on Az’Lean and she forces a sweet smile. “Of course I respect your time, my prince! It is a matter of mutual respect, after all. With that said, please do see me at your soonest convenience.”
Az’Lean inclines his head. “Naturally, Lady Aran. It would be remiss of me to ignore you.”
“Good!” she says and claps her hands together, before dipping into a curtsy. “Until then, I wish you both a most pleasant day.”
You bow your head respectfully and wait for her to leave before releasing a deep sigh. “That was exhausting.”
“You can say that again. Thanks for your help, $playername. I appreciate it a lot.” Az’Lean gives you a half-smile before nodding his head in the direction of the partially opened door. You hold it open for him.
The two of you step through the thin door into what you assume to be the council room. It is large and circular with uneven walls and no windows, as if this was simply a cavity that had been carved out of a mountain. Strange architectural design, you have to admit, but it did succeed in making the room seem ancient and sacred.
“Does something like that happen often?” you ask as you inspect what seems to be luminous crystals inlaid within the stone walls.
“No, actually. Though I imagine now that I’m of age it’s going to get a lot worse. And I don’t just mean in regards to marriage proposals and entitled nobles.” As if to illustrate his point, Az’Lean marches over to the large round table in the middle of the room and dumps the heap of documents on it. He doesn’t bother straightening it out.
The table is made from ash wood, painted with images of blooming flowers and green vines wrapping along its edges. Sixteen plush chairs are arranged around it, all in different colours though not indicating any sort of hierarchy.
Stacks of maps and figurines line the shelves on the walls and a small chandelier is the only source of light. Even though this seems to be a place of discussion, the air is so heavy you would almost feel reluctant to speak.
“So, this is the council room. Are you sure you want to accompany me to meetings? Guards are usually stationed in front of the door, so there’s really no need.”
“We already agreed I’d follow you everywhere other than the first floor of the southern wing,” you remind him. “If you don’t want me in here I could stand guard outside as well.”
“Oh no, if I have to suffer through these, you do too.” He looks around with small smirk. “We’ll get another chair for you.”
“I see how it is,” you say with mild amusement. “I guess we can add alleviating your boredom to my list of duties.”
The prince barks a sharp laugh and it makes you feel somewhat accomplished. You almost feared Lady Aran had ruined the mood beyond repair. <i>You know what would really ruin the mood? If he found out what you really are.</i>
You walk around the council room once more for good measure but there isn’t much more to look at - nothing to distract you during a meeting. Just as you’re leaving the room, your stomach begins to rumble loudly.
“I guess it would be time for a small lunch,” Az’Lean wonders aloud. “Interested in seeing the kitchens next?”
“Is a prince even allowed in the kitchens?” you say but don’t disagree with the idea. You don’t have a huge appetite right now to be honest, but you should probably eat something lest you run out of strength - all of these stairs everywhere are nothing to sneeze at, even for a trained knight like yourself.
“It’s true that I’m not very welcome there, but it’s not like the cooks can kick me out. We’ll just grab a quick bite and then we’ll get out of their hair.”
[[“Sounds good.”|Chapter3.12]]“Lady Aran,” you interrupt while stepping between them, “you are bothering his majesty, in case you weren’t aware. I must ask you to leave him alone immediately, or I will be forced to remove you from his vicinity.”
The noblewoman stares at you in utter shock, her face aghast in a mixture of fear and outrage. “You have some nerve, thinking you can order me around. You’ve only been Champion for a day!” Az’Lean’s expression darkens at her words and she immediately begins to back-pedal. “Not that it isn’t a most honourable and important position to inhabit, truly! I see that you take it quite seriously, so let me humour you for now.”
She chuckles into her hand as if she were secretly indulging a child, but you are glad to see her back down. “Let’s continue this some other time, my prince. Until then, I wish you a pleasant day.” Lady Aran completely ignores you as she curtsies to Az’Lean before strutting away, head held high in defiance.
You wait for her to leave before releasing a deep breath. “That was frustrating.”
“You can say that again. Thanks for your help, $playername. I appreciate it alot.” Az’Lean gives you a half-smile before nodding his head in the direction of the partially opened door. You hold it open for him.
The two of you step through the thin door into what you assume to be the council room. It is large and circular with uneven walls and no windows, as if this was simply a cavity that had been carved out of a mountain. Strange architectural design, you have to admit, but it did succeed in making the room seem ancient and sacred.
“Does something like that happen often?” you ask as you inspect what seems to be luminous crystals inlaid within the stone walls.
“No, actually. Though I imagine now that I’m of age it’s going to get a lot worse. And I don’t just mean in regards to marriage proposals and entitled nobles.” As if to illustrate his point, Az’Lean marches over to the large round table in the middle of the room and dumps the heap of documents on it. He doesn’t bother straightening it out.
The table is made from ash wood, painted with images of blooming flowers and green vines wrapping along its edges. Sixteen plush chairs are arranged around it, all in different colours though not indicating any sort of hierarchy.
Stacks of maps and figurines line the shelves on the walls and a small chandelier is the only source of light. Even though this seems to be a place of discussion, the air is so heavy you would almost feel reluctant to speak.
“So, this is the council room. Are you sure you want to accompany me to meetings? Guards are usually stationed in front of the door, so there’s really no need.”
“We already agreed I’d follow you everywhere other than the first floor of the southern wing,” you remind him. “If you don’t want me in here I could stand guard outside as well.”
“Oh no, if I have to suffer through these, you do too.” He looks around with a small smirk. “We’ll get another chair for you.”
“I see how it is,” you say with mild amusement. “I guess we can add alleviating your boredom to my list of duties.”
The prince barks a sharp laugh and it makes you feel somewhat accomplished. You almost feared Lady Aran had ruined the mood beyond repair. <i>You know what would really ruin the mood? If he found out what you really are.</i>
You walk around the council room once more for good measure but there isn’t much more to look at - nothing to distract you during a meeting. Just as you’re leaving the room, your stomach begins to rumble loudly.
“I guess it would be time for a small lunch,” Az’Lean wonders aloud. “Interested in seeing the kitchens next?”
“Is a prince even allowed in the kitchens?” you say but don’t disagree with the idea. You don’t have a huge appetite right now to be honest, but you should probably eat something lest you run out of strength - all of these are nothing to sneeze at, even for a trained knight like yourself.
“It’s true that I’m not very welcome there, but it’s not like the cooks can kick me out. We’ll just grab a quick bite and then we’ll get out of their hair.”
[[“Sounds good.”|Chapter3.12]]<<set $instability to $instability + 1>>\
You don’t bother with pleasantries or words, instead opting to simply grab her upper arm and drag her a few paces away from Az’Lean. “You are being a bother,” you inform her with a growl.
“How dare you?!” she squeaks, trying to squirm out of your grip but quickly realising just how much stronger you are. Lady Aran stops struggling, instead looking to Az’Lean for help, but he just stands there, looking on in something like amused bewilderment.
“As his Champion, it is my job to make sure no one harms the prince. What makes you think you can just invade his personal space like that and not be considered a threat? He was clearly uncomfortable,” you say, only releasing her once you're a good distance from Az’Lean.
Lady Aran smoothes out her sleeve, backing away from you with a mixture of fear and outrage on her face. “What are you on about? He didn’t complain at all and he also didn’t order you to attack me!”
“I am neither blind nor stupid,” you bite back immediately.
“You’re like a rabid attack dog, clearly overprotective and unhinged!” She glares at you for good measure before throwing her hair over her shoulder and strutting away with quick strides.
You wait for her to leave before releasing a deep breath. “I’m not really like that, am I?”
“Even if you are, there’s something charming about it. I honestly do appreciate your help though, $playername.” Az’Lean gives you a half-smile before nodding his head in the direction of the partially opened door. You hold it open for him.
The two of you step through the thin door into what you assume to be the council room. It is large and circular with uneven walls and no windows, as if this was simply a cavity that had been carved out of a mountain. Strange architectural design, you have to admit, but it did succeed in making the room seem ancient and sacred.
“Does something like that happen often?” you ask as you inspect what seems to be luminous crystals inlaid within the stone walls.
“No, actually. Though I imagine now that I’m of age it’s going to get a lot worse. And I don’t just mean in regards to marriage proposals and entitled nobles.” As if to illustrate his point, Az’Lean marches over to the large round table in the middle of the room and dumps the heap of documents on it. He doesn’t bother straightening it out.
The table is made from ash wood, painted with images of blooming flowers and green vines wrapping along its edges. Sixteen plush chairs are arranged around it, all in different colours though not indicating any sort of hierarchy.
Stacks of maps and figurines line the shelves on the walls and a small chandelier is the only source of light. Even though this seems to be a place of discussion, the air is so heavy you would almost feel reluctant to speak.
“So, this is the council room. Are you sure you want to accompany me to meetings? Guards are usually stationed in front of the door, so there’s really no need.”
“We already agreed I’d follow you everywhere other than the first floor of the southern wing,” you remind him. “If you don’t want me in here I could stand guard outside as well.”
“Oh no, if I have to suffer through these, you do too.” He looks around with a small smirk. “We’ll get another chair for you.”
“I see how it is,” you say with mild amusement. “I guess we can add alleviating your boredom to my list of duties.”
The prince barks a sharp laugh and it makes you feel somewhat accomplished. You almost feared Lady Aran had ruined the mood beyond repair. <i>You know what would really ruin the mood? If he found out what you really are.</i>
You walk around the council room once more for good measure but there isn’t much more to look at - nothing to distract you during a meeting. Just as you’re leaving the room, your stomach begins to rumble loudly.
“I guess it would be time for a small lunch,” Az’Lean wonders aloud. “Interested in seeing the kitchens next?”
“Is a prince even allowed in the kitchens?” you say but don’t disagree with the idea. You don’t have a huge appetite right now to be honest, but you should probably eat something lest you run out of strength - all of these are nothing to sneeze at, even for a trained knight like yourself.
“It’s true that I’m not very welcome there, but it’s not like the cooks can kick me out. We’ll just grab a quick bite and then we’ll get out of their hair.”
[[“Sounds good.”|Chapter3.12]]As unobtrusively as possible, you grab the stack of documents out of Az’Lean’s hands, balancing them on your own instead. He gives you a surprised look for a moment before smiling appreciatively.
As soon as his hands are free, he places them on Lady Aran’s shoulders in order to literally keep her at an arm's length. “Lady Aran, please, let us move this to another day. It would be remiss of me to ignore you, but I can promise you that I will consider your proposal much more favourably if I am not distracted with other things. Surely you understand?”
Lady Aran blinks up at him, her eyes widening slightly. “I see what you’re getting at, my prince. Truly, we should hold this discussion at a more fitting time and place. Somewhere private, perhaps. Though I will ask you to speak to me at your earliest convenience.”
“That is a matter of course, Lady Aran,” Az’Lean says with a dazzling smile. He gives her shoulders a little squeeze before releasing her, and Lady Aran stumbles backwards in a daze.
“Good, glad to hear it. Until then I wish both of you a most pleasant day,” she says before dipping into a curtsy.
You bow your head respectfully and wait for her to leave before letting out a deep breath. “That was exhausting.”
“You can say that again. Thanks for your assistance, $playername. I appreciate it.” He gives you a half-smile as he holds the door open for you.
The two of you step through the thin door into what you assume to be the council room. It is large and circular with uneven walls and no windows, as if this was simply a cavity that had been carved out of a mountain. Strange architectural design, you have to admit, but it did succeed in making the room seem ancient and sacred.
“Does something like that happen often?” you ask as you inspect what seems to be luminous crystals inlaid within the stone walls.
“No, actually. Though I imagine now that I’m of age it’s going to get a lot worse. And I don’t just mean in regards to marriage proposals and entitled nobles.” As if to illustrate his point, Az’Lean grabs the stack of documents out of your hands and dumps it onto the large round table in the middle of the room.He doesn’t bother straightening the papers out.
The table is made from ash wood, painted with images of blooming flowers and green vines wrapping along its edges. Sixteen plush chairs are arranged around it, all in different colours though not indicating any sort of hierarchy.
Stacks of maps and figurines line the shelves on the walls and a small chandelier is the only source of light. Even though this seems to be a place of discussion, the air is so heavy you would almost feel reluctant to speak.
“So, this is the council room. Are you sure you want to accompany me to meetings? Guards are usually stationed in front of the door, so there’s really no need.”
“We already agreed I’d follow you everywhere other than the first floor of the southern wing,” you remind him. “If you don’t want me in here I could stand guard outside as well.”
“Oh no, if I have to suffer through these, you do too.” He looks around with a small smirk. “We’ll get another chair for you.”
“I see how it is,” you say with mild amusement. “I guess we can add alleviating your boredom to my list of duties.”
The prince barks a sharp laugh and it makes you feel somewhat accomplished. You almost feared Lady Aran had ruined the mood beyond repair. <i>You know what would really ruin the mood? If he found out what you really are.</i>
You walk around the council room once more for good measure but there isn’t much more to look at - nothing to distract you during a meeting. Just as you’re leaving the room, your stomach begins to rumble loudly.
“I guess it would be time for a small lunch,” Az’Lean wonders aloud. “Interested in seeing the kitchens next?”
“Is a prince even allowed in the kitchens?” you say but don’t disagree with the idea. You don’t have a huge appetite right now to be honest, but you should probably eat something lest you run out of strength - all of these are nothing to sneeze at, even for a trained knight like yourself.
“It’s true that I’m not very welcome there, but it’s not like the cooks can kick me out. We’ll just grab a quick bite and then we’ll get out of their hair.”
[[“Sounds good.”|Chapter3.12]]You lean against the wall next to the door, completely unbothered by what is unfolding in front of you. Az’Lean can handle himself and stepping in now would be nothing short of an insult.
He glances at you for a fracture of a second but he doesn’t ask for your help. Something defiant settles in his posture and expression instead and you believe he has accepted your unspoken challenge.
“I would suggest unhanding me this instance, Lady Aran.” His tone is completely even as he says it, almost eerily so. “Lest I drop this stack of papers all over the floor.”
She giggles and doesn’t comply. “Maybe you should drop them and just leave them here. Then you would have time to listen to me, surely.”
Az’Lean shakes his head almost sadly. “You misunderstand, and this is no laughing matter, Lady Aran. In a way you are lucky that my hands are full right now, otherwise I might use them to rip that vile head off your shoulders. So you either let go of me now, or I will <i>drop the papers</i>.”
She understands him perfectly well this time and manages to keep the fear on her face in check, to her credit. Her hands shake only slightly as she lets go of Az’Lean and takes a few steps back. “I apologise, my prince. I wasn’t thinking.”
A dazzling smile appears on Az’Lean’s face like a mirage in a desert. “Think nothing of it, Lady Aran. It would be remiss of me to ignore you, so I promise we will talk about your proposal at a more appropriate time.”
“It would be my pleasure. Until then, I wish both of you a most pleasant day.” She dips into a low curtsy before running off, almost tripping over her own feet as she does so.
You wait for her to leave before letting out a deep breath. “That was intense.”
“You can say that again. Maybe you should step in next time, $playername, I…” He trails off before clearing his throat. “Or maybe you shouldn’t. I need to handle such things on my own.” He gives you a half-smile before nodding his head in the direction of the partially opened door. You hold it open for him.
The two of you step through the thin door into what you assume to be the council room. It is large and circular with uneven walls and no windows, as if this was simply a cavity that had been carved out of a mountain. Strange architectural design, you have to admit, but it did succeed in making the room seem ancient and sacred.
“Does something like that happen often?” you ask as you inspect what seems to be luminous crystals inlaid within the stone walls.
“No, actually. Though I imagine now that I’m of age it’s going to get a lot worse. And I don’t just mean in regards to marriage proposals and entitled nobles.” As if to illustrate his point, Az’Lean marches over to the large round table in the middle of the room and dumps the heap of documents on it. He doesn’t bother straightening it out.
The table is made from ash wood, painted with images of blooming flowers and green vines wrapping along its edges. Sixteen plush chairs are arranged around it, all in different colours though not indicating any sort of hierarchy.
Stacks of maps and figurines line the shelves on the walls and a small chandelier is the only source of light. Even though this seems to be a place of discussion, the air is so heavy you would almost feel reluctant to speak.
“So, this is the council room. Are you sure you want to accompany me to meetings? Guards are usually stationed in front of the door, so there’s really no need.”
“We already agreed I’d follow you everywhere other than the first floor of the southern wing,” you remind him. “If you don’t want me in here I could stand guard outside as well.”
“Oh no, if I have to suffer through these, you do too.” He looks around with a small smirk. “We’ll get another chair for you.”
“I see how it is,” you say with mild amusement. “I guess we can add alleviating your boredom to my list of duties.”
The prince barks a sharp laugh and it makes you feel somewhat accomplished. You almost feared Lady Aran had ruined the mood beyond repair. <i>You know what would really ruin the mood? If he found out what you really are.</i>
You walk around the council room once more for good measure but there isn’t much more to look at - nothing to distract you during a meeting. Just as you’re leaving the room, your stomach begins to rumble loudly.
“I guess it would be time for a small lunch,” Az’Lean wonders aloud. “Interested in seeing the kitchens next?”
“Is a prince even allowed in the kitchens?” you say but don’t disagree with the idea. You don’t have a huge appetite right now to be honest, but you should probably eat something lest you run out of strength - all of these are nothing to sneeze at, even for a trained knight like yourself.
“It’s true that I’m not very welcome there, but it’s not like the cooks can kick me out. We’ll just grab a quick bite and then we’ll get out of their hair.”
[[“Sounds good.”|Chapter3.12]]The way to the kitchens leads you through a maze of passages that seem to be exclusively used by servants. Their entrances are almost hidden, blending into the walls around them, and the well-worn carpet flooring and low ceiling muffle all sounds of footsteps. It seems that servants can move through the castle almost entirely unnoticed, only being seen and heard when they want to be.
<i>Someone with extensive knowledge of these passages could easily use them for nefarious purposes.</i>
Despite their labyrinthine nature, you would’ve been able to find the kitchen quite easily even without Az’Lean to show you the way. The closer you get to your destination, the more you are enveloped by the most delectable smells. Cinnamon, ginger, and the scent of freshly baked bread beckon you ever closer. Without realising it, you begin to pick up the pace and Az’Lean follows suit.
You can hear shouting and the clanging of pots and pans, and soon the passage opens up directly into the kitchen. The air is hot and humid and you are immediately aware of more than one open fire. About a dozen cooks are busily at work at their various stations, chopping vegetables, roasting meat, pounding dough or cleaning furiously. Servants flit between them like hummingbirds between flowers, fast and jittery. You can easily imagine why the presence of the prince wouldn’t be a welcome distraction here.
A middle-aged woman with bright, copper-red hair and a dusting of freckles around her nose marches up to you, frustration written on her face.
“Please tell me your presence here means we can cancel bringing your lunch up to your chambers,” she demands immediately, wiping a bead of sweat from the side of her face. “It’s been utter chaos with all those stinking nobles visiting.”
“You don’t have to bring anything up for me, it’s fine. The plan was to just nab something here while I’m giving $playername the tour.”
The woman immediately rounds on you, lips twisted in annoyance. “What’s the Champion need to know the kitchens for? I don’t need another bloody food-thief running loose in here.”
“It’s just for safety reasons. I promise I won’t come here just to bother you, ma’am,” you explain quickly. You stop to think for a moment. “Unless the prince does it too, I guess.”
A hearty chuckle escapes her and she shakes her head. “At least you’re being honest, and so polite too. No need to call me ma’am, dear, my name is Rhona. Let’s get you something to eat so you can get out of here.”
The two of you shake hands and she only crushes your fingers a little bit. “Thank you, Rhona.”
“Much appreciated,” Az’Lean adds.
It doesn’t take long for Rhona to fetch you two a plate of assorted pastries, sweet and savoury. There isn’t really a good place to sit down at, so Az’Lean and you lean awkwardly against the wall amidst sacks of grain and dried meat hanging from the ceiling. At least no one will bump into you here.
The food tastes amazing, a comfortable warmth seeping into you from within. You are just finishing a mushroom pastry when you notice a bit of commotion coming from the kitchen entrance. Someone else seems to have invaded Rhona’s kitchen and by the sound of angry shouting, they aren’t entirely welcome either.
“Come on, Rho, relax. I haven’t set anything on fire in days, it’s fine,” you can hear the voice of a man, and curiously enough, Az’Lean sighs loudly at the sound of it.
Before you can ask, you notice the man approaching from the corner of your eye and turn around to face him. The sight that greets you is entirely unexpected.
The man is very short, his head only barely reaching Az’Lean’s chest, and lithe - something about the way he walks towards you reminds you of a cat. Far more striking than his height, however, are his distinctly non-human features. His unruly short hair and his scruffy beard are red, but they are not at all the copper-red you just saw on Rhona. No, his hair is a deep, rich burgundy, like spilt wine. Bright green eyes with cat-like slit pupils seem to glow amidst bronze skin and rugged features. Upon even closer inspection, his ears seem slightly pointed and there’s a distinct sharpness to his teeth. Without a doubt, you’re looking at a half-fae.
Aside from that fact, he is dressed most ordinarily and almost manages to blend into the mass of castle servants. A parcel is clutched to his side under his arm.
“Long time no see, Princeling,” he says with a snicker and holds the parcel out in front of him. “Delivery! Punctual as always.”
“You were supposed to drop it off at my chambers this morning,” Az’Lean growls and snatches the wrapped object out of the man’s hands. The next words are spoken with the viciousness of a fast-acting poison. “Why are you here <i>now</i>, Lester?”
The half-fae man, apparently named Lester, grins mockingly. “I was just barely late, honest, and then I was looking for you. Just my luck that you were running all over the place. Couldn’t find you at the barracks, just barely missed you at the library, but now I managed to catch up. So here I am! This is the new Champion, I’m guessing?”
Az’Lean ignores his attempt to change the subject in favour of inspecting the parcel. Once again you are astonished at the insolence with which the prince is addressed, though while it had been an expression of familiarity coming from Thianne, Lester’s attitude seems to be purposefully disrespectful.
“That’s correct,” you decide to answer, keeping your tone carefully neutral for now. “I’m $playername. Nice to meet you, Lester.”
He looks you up and down with his piercing gaze. “Interesting,” he says quietly and smiles to himself.
<i>A horrible thought occurs to you. If you really were… Would he be able to tell since he’s half-fae? You aren’t sure if it works like that, but then again, there’s so much you don’t know. What do you know, really?</i>
Az’Lean clears his throat a tad awkwardly, the parcel clutched securely to his chest. “I’m sorry, $playername, we’ll have to return to my chambers for a second. This contains something rather valuable and I’d rather not parade it around in the castle any more than it already has been.”
<<if $pronoun == "his">> Lester snorts derisively at the jab. “Why don’t you go do that and I’ll show him around the servants’ quarters? Not really your area of expertise anyway, right, Princeling?” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "her">> Lester snorts derisively at the jab. “Why don’t you go do that and I’ll show her around the servant’ quarters? Not really your area of expertise anyway, right, Princeling?” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "their">> Lester snorts derisively at the jab. “Why don’t you go do that and I’ll show them around the servants’ quarters? Not really your area of expertise anyway, right, Princeling?” <<endif>>\
Az’Lean doesn’t try to hide his annoyance, but he does manage to dispel it rather quickly. “I am not so unreasonable as to deny that it would be more efficient that way. Would that be alright with you, $playername?”
[[“Sure, why not?” You don’t fancy having to walk all the way back again and the servants’ quarters could be interesting.|Chapter3.13]]
[[“Sure, why not?” You want to learn more about Lester and his relationship with Az’Lean.|Chapter3.13]]
[[“I suppose.” You don’t really care much either way.|Chapter3.13]]
[[“That’s a great idea!” You look forward to talking to Lester alone.|Chapter3.13]]
[[“Good idea.” You could use this opportunity to assess whether Lester is a threat.|Chapter3.13]]
[[“Hmm… Okay.” You’d much rather stay with Az’Lean, but don’t think it’s your place to object.|Chapter3.13]]Az’Lean nods, taking your decision at face value. “I’ll try to be quick about it.”
With one last scathing look at Lester, he tucks the parcel safely under his arm and begins to all but sprint out of the kitchens. “You might trip on the stairs if you rush!” Lester calls out after him in a singsong voice that sounds almost hopeful.
Without Az’Lean here the atmosphere quickly grows less tense but all the more awkward.
“How about we walk and talk?” you suggest. You’ve taken up space in the kitchens for long enough, and it really would be useful to see where the servants’ quarters are located.
“Fine by me, Champ. Hope you can keep up with me,” Lester quips sarcastically and claps his rather short legs.
The two of you leave the kitchen behind, using yet more discreet tunnels to move through the castle. Quite a few servants cross your path and you notice that none of them bother to greet Lester, though some of them show <i>you</i> that courtesy.
“Let’s talk, then,” Lester says during a moment when you’re alone. “Before you can ask, yes I’m a half-fae. Fire-sprite, to be exact. By the stare you were giving me earlier, I assume you haven’t met one before.”
You know of sprites - mischievous winged beings, smaller and weaker than humans but equipped with powerful elemental magic. They can be quite dangerous, fire-sprites especially being known for their short temper.
You also know of half-fae. Even though they have the same rights as humans and are permitted to live in Gaiapeia, you know that a lot of people don’t trust them or look down on them.
“I haven’t, truthfully,” you admit, unable to conceal your interest entirely.
A vicious grin splits his face. “So I’m your first then. I’m quite flattered.”
You remain thoroughly unimpressed. “Very funny.”
He shrugs. “I try my best. By the way, what’s it like being Princeling’s Champion? I know it’s only your first day and all, but has he driven you mad yet?”
“Not much has happened yet, he’s just been giving me a tour of the castle. Though I’d say he’s easy to get along with. Then again, there seems to be some animosity between the two of you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “What’s the history there?”
Lester scoffs loudly. “That shit’s not worth being called history. He doesn’t trust me and thinks I’m some sort of spy. I think he’s a hypocrite.”
He doesn’t elaborate and you're torn between reprimanding him for talking about the prince like that and pressing him for details. Though you do get the sense that it’s a complicated matter.
A part of your mind also gets hung up on the word ‘spy’. It makes your stomach churn and you almost regret eating anything.
“Listen, ask me something else. Something more light-hearted if you can manage it.” Lester eyes you wearily, clearly not believing you capable of small talk.
You take a moment to think of something. “What’s your position, exactly? Royal courier?”
“Not quite, though I am a courier among other things. I’m technically a servant, but no one really wants me around inside the castle so I do all the jobs that take me outside of it. Most of the time it’s deliveries, but sometimes I gather ingredients or escort travellers.” Lester doesn’t quite sound proud of it, but he also doesn’t seem to resent his job. “Don’t think you can order me around just because I’m a servant, though.” <<set $lovemet to 5>>
[[“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say. You have no doubt at all that you could take Lester in a fight, but you don’t fancy getting attacked in your sleep.|Chapter14.A]]
[[You frown in confusion. “That makes no sense. Just like I have to follow the prince’s orders, you’d be obligated to follow mine.”|Chapter14.B]]
[[“All right.” You hadn’t really planned on ordering anyone around, really.|Chapter14.C]]Az’Lean breathes out a sigh of relief. “So it’s not just me. I’m not trying to be paranoid, but I feel like we should be careful around him.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him,” you reassure him. “It’s my job to look out for potential threats, after all.”
“I appreciate it. If there’s ever anyone you think is suspicious, let me know. I promise to take it seriously.” You spot a flicker of sorrow deep in Az’Lean’s blue eyes. “Before it’s too late.”
“I understand.”
It is with a sombre mood that Az’Lean guides you out of the servants’ quarters and back into the main halls of the castle. The sun has begun to lower a bit and evening is not too far off. Your steps echo loudly within the hallways, the quiet here a stark contrast to the noise of the servants’ quarters.
Something about it makes the tightly contained dread in your chest flare to life, and you hide your shaking hands behind your back.
You partially go back the way you came, heading towards the throne room but then branching off through a small courtyard. The portrait hall is located just beyond it, framed by chiselled marble pillars. Red carpet stretches from beginning to end, leading past dozens of life-size paintings of past royals.
The ones near the entrance are markedly more faded and lacking in detail, while the ones near the back stand out to you as being vibrant and shimmering, almost giving off the illusion of movement.
You stare in awe at the very first portrait. It shows a young woman with strawberry blond hair that reaches past her waist, dressed in a floor-length white dress in front of a black background dotted with stars in strange arrangements. A plaque beneath reads: B’neighla Gaiapeia, The Progenitor Queen.
“They say she survived a journey to the Otherwold and returned with boundless wisdom, allowing her to unify the people and create a kingdom of peace.” You can tell from his tone that Az’Lean seems sceptical of that description and you can understand why. The origins of the kingdom are shrouded in mystery, though it seems impossible to believe they weren’t bloody in some way.
You walk along the row of portraits, taking them in one by one as Az’Lean relays some basic information. It’s fascinating to see all these people who ultimately culminated in the man walking next to you. The further you get to the end, the more you are able to see some kind of resemblance to Az’Lean in the monarchs on display.
It doesn’t take long before you spot the portrait of the current king, Az’Lean’s father. He is seated upon a black stallion in a lush meadow, dressed in hunting gear and looking quite a bit younger. The plague reads: Az’Marn Gaiapeia, The Bastion King.
You tilt your head in confusion. “Bastion King?”
“In the sense that he is known for bolstering our defences and warding off the fae. It’s not the most flattering title, implying inaction and rigidness,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly.
“Who’s handing out the titles?”
“Usually the predecessor bestows the title on the day they end their reign and crown the next monarch. So my grandmother gave my father the title Bastion King.” Az’Lean smiles a little. “I am a bit nervous about what title I will receive. I can’t imagine it’ll be a good one.”
You frown at that. “What? Why do you think that?”
Az’Lean grimaces. “My father hasn’t been in a great frame of mind for a while now and there… there’s some resentment between us. Nothing you should worry about, just, well, calling it family drama sounds benign but that’s what it is. I’ll tell you about it at some point, just, not today.”
You gaze back at the portrait of the king, wondering what sort of disagreements those two might have. “I understand. Sorry to hear that, though. He can’t give you a stupid sounding title, right? That would be pretty unfair.”
“The worst one is probably this one,” Az’Lean says as he points to the portrait of a robed person sitting behind a desk. “Con’Naiyla, the Unloved Monarch. They were named such by their mother because they refused to marry. The bloodline had to continue through their nephew instead.”
“That’s harsh,” you mumble. “Even if they never married, I’m sure someone loved them. Even just a friend.”
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “I don’t think there would be a portrait of them here if they were truly unloved.” Then he suddenly claps his hands together. “With that though, I think we should conclude our tour for today. Unless there’s anything else you want to do or see?”
His sky blue eyes focus intently on you, searching your face as he waits for an answer. It’s a bit unnerving and you hope nothing shows on your face that you don’t want it to. Your throat feels raw all of a sudden.
“I- I think I would like to rest a bit in my room. Unpack, get situated, you know?” The words don’t come out quite right you think, but Az’Lean just nods and gives you a half-smile.
“That sounds like a good idea. Let’s head back.”
By the time the two of you return to the southern wing, your feet are sore from all the walking and your thoughts keep circling back to last night involuntarily. You think if you had to spend one more minute with Az’Lean, you might just break down and tell him something you can’t ever take back.
So when you finally reach the door to your new room and he bids you farewell for now, it is with relief that you wave him goodbye. He’s only going to be in the next room over and you’ll see each other again soon, but for now, you are alone.
[[It soon turns out to be both a blessing and a curse.|Chapter3.17]]Az’Lean shakes his head. “I don’t want to come across as paranoid but I think you’re wrong on that. I’d ask you to remain vigilant and not get too close to him.”
“Don’t worry, I know not to let myself be lured into a false sense of security. It wasn’t my intention to brush your concerns off, so I promise I will keep your suspicions in mind.”
“I appreciate it. If there’s ever anyone you think is suspicious, let me know. I promise to take it seriously.” You spot a flicker of sorrow deep in Az’Lean’s blue eyes. “Before it’s too late.”
“I understand.”
It is with a sombre mood that Az’Lean guides you out of the servants’ quarters and back into the main halls of the castle. The sun has begun to lower a bit and evening is not too far off. Your steps echo loudly within the hallways, the quiet here a stark contrast to the noise of the servants’ quarters.
Something about it makes the tightly contained dread in your chest flare to life, and you hide your shaking hands behind your back.
You partially go back the way you came, heading towards the throne room but then branching off through a small courtyard. The portrait hall is located just beyond it, framed by chiselled marble pillars. Red carpet stretches from beginning to end, leading past dozens of life-size paintings of past royals.
The ones near the entrance are markedly more faded and lacking in detail, while the ones near the back stand out to you as being vibrant and shimmering, almost giving off the illusion of movement.
You stare in awe at the very first portrait. It shows a young woman with strawberry blond hair that reaches past her waist, dressed in a floor-length white dress in front of a black background dotted with stars in strange arrangements. A plaque beneath reads: B’neighla Gaiapeia, The Progenitor Queen.
“They say she survived a journey to the Otherwold and returned with boundless wisdom, allowing her to unify the people and create a kingdom of peace.” You can tell from his tone that Az’Lean seems sceptical of that description and you can understand why. The origins of the kingdom are shrouded in mystery, though it seems impossible to believe they weren’t bloody in some way.
You walk along the row of portraits, taking them in one by one as Az’Lean relays some basic information. It’s fascinating to see all these people who ultimately culminated in the man walking next to you. The further you get to the end, the more you are able to see some kind of resemblance to Az’Lean in the monarchs on display.
It doesn’t take long before you spot the portrait of the current king, Az’Lean’s father. He is seated upon a black stallion in a lush meadow, dressed in hunting gear and looking quite a bit younger. The plague reads: Az’Marn Gaiapeia, The Bastion King.
You tilt your head in confusion. “Bastion King?”
“In the sense that he is known for bolstering our defences and warding off the fae. It’s not the most flattering title, implying inaction and rigidness,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly.
“Who’s handing out the titles?”
“Usually the predecessor bestows the title on the day they end their reign and crown the next monarch. So my grandmother gave my father the title Bastion King.” Az’Lean smiles a little. “I am a bit nervous about what title I will receive. I can’t imagine it’ll be a good one.”
You frown at that. “What? Why do you think that?”
Az’Lean grimaces. “My father hasn’t been in a great frame of mind for a while now and there… there’s some resentment between us. Nothing you should worry about, just, well, calling it family drama sounds benign but that’s what it is. I’ll tell you about it at some point, just, not today.”
You gaze back at the portrait of the king, wondering what sort of disagreements those two might have. “I understand. Sorry to hear that, though. He can’t give you a stupid sounding title, right? That would be pretty unfair.”
“The worst one is probably this one,” Az’Lean says as he points to the portrait of a robed person sitting behind a desk. “Con’Naiyla, the Unloved Monarch. They were named such by their mother because they refused to marry. The bloodline had to continue through their nephew instead.”
“That’s harsh,” you mumble. “Even if they never married, I’m sure someone loved them. Even just a friend.”
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “I don’t think there would be a portrait of them here if they were truly unloved.” Then he suddenly claps his hands together. “With that though, I think we should conclude our tour for today. Unless there’s anything else you want to do or see?”
His sky blue eyes focus intently on you, searching your face as he waits for an answer. It’s a bit unnerving and you hope nothing shows on your face that you don’t want it to. Your throat feels raw all of a sudden.
“I- I think I would like to rest a bit in my room. Unpack, get situated, you know?” The words don’t come out quite right you think, but Az’Lean just nods and gives you a half-smile.
“That sounds like a good idea. Let’s head back.”
By the time the two of you return to the southern wing, your feet are sore from all the walking and your thoughts keep circling back to last night involuntarily. You think if you had to spend one more minute with Az’Lean, you might just break down and tell him something you can’t ever take back.
So when you finally reach the door to your new room and he bids you farewell for now, it is with relief that you wave him goodbye. He’s only going to be in the next room over and you’ll see each other again soon, but for now, you are alone.
[[It soon turns out to be both a blessing and a curse.|Chapter3.17]]Az’Lean frowns. “Fair enough. I might just be paranoid, but I still feel like we should be careful around him.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll always be alert,” you reassure him. “It’s my duty to not let myself be caught off guard, after all.”
“I appreciate it. If there’s ever anyone you think is suspicious, let me know. I promise to take it seriously.” You spot a flicker of sorrow deep in Az’Lean’s blue eyes. “Before it’s too late.”
“I understand.”
It is with a sombre mood that Az’Lean guides you out of the servants’ quarters and back into the main halls of the castle. The sun has begun to lower a bit and evening is not too far off. Your steps echo loudly within the hallways, the quiet here a stark contrast to the noise of the servants’ quarters.
Something about it makes the tightly contained dread in your chest flare to life, and you hide your shaking hands behind your back.
You partially go back the way you came, heading towards the throne room but then branching off through a small courtyard. The portrait hall is located just beyond it, framed by chiselled marble pillars. Red carpet stretches from beginning to end, leading past dozens of life-size paintings of past royals.
The ones near the entrance are markedly more faded and lacking in detail, while the ones near the back stand out to you as being vibrant and shimmering, almost giving off the illusion of movement.
You stare in awe at the very first portrait. It shows a young woman with strawberry blond hair that reaches past her waist, dressed in a floor-length white dress in front of a black background dotted with stars in strange arrangements. A plaque beneath reads: B’neighla Gaiapeia, The Progenitor Queen.
“They say she survived a journey to the Otherwold and returned with boundless wisdom, allowing her to unify the people and create a kingdom of peace.” You can tell from his tone that Az’Lean seems sceptical of that description and you can understand why. The origins of the kingdom are shrouded in mystery, though it seems impossible to believe they weren’t bloody in some way.
You walk along the row of portraits, taking them in one by one as Az’Lean relays some basic information. It’s fascinating to see all these people who ultimately culminated in the man walking next to you. The further you get to the end, the more you are able to see some kind of resemblance to Az’Lean in the monarchs on display.
It doesn’t take long before you spot the portrait of the current king, Az’Lean’s father. He is seated upon a black stallion in a lush meadow, dressed in hunting gear and looking quite a bit younger. The plague reads: Az’Marn Gaiapeia, The Bastion King.
You tilt your head in confusion. “Bastion King?”
“In the sense that he is known for bolstering our defences and warding off the fae. It’s not the most flattering title, implying inaction and rigidness,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly.
“Who’s handing out the titles?”
“Usually the predecessor bestows the title on the day they end their reign and crown the next monarch. So my grandmother gave my father the title Bastion King.” Az’Lean smiles a little. “I am a bit nervous about what title I will receive. I can’t imagine it’ll be a good one.”
You frown at that. “What? Why do you think that?”
Az’Lean grimaces. “My father hasn’t been in a great frame of mind for a while now and there… there’s some resentment between us. Nothing you should worry about, just, well, calling it family drama sounds benign but that’s what it is. I’ll tell you about it at some point, just, not today.”
You gaze back at the portrait of the king, wondering what sort of disagreements those two might have. “I understand. Sorry to hear that, though. He can’t give you a stupid sounding title, right? That would be pretty unfair.”
“The worst one is probably this one,” Az’Lean says as he points to the portrait of a robed person sitting behind a desk. “Con’Naiyla, the Unloved Monarch. They were named such by their mother because they refused to marry. The bloodline had to continue through their nephew instead.”
“That’s harsh,” you mumble. “Even if they never married, I’m sure someone loved them. Even just a friend.”
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “I don’t think there would be a portrait of them here if they were truly unloved.” Then he suddenly claps his hands together. “With that though, I think we should conclude our tour for today. Unless there’s anything else you want to do or see?”
His sky blue eyes focus intently on you, searching your face as he waits for an answer. It’s a bit unnerving and you hope nothing shows on your face that you don’t want it to. Your throat feels raw all of a sudden.
“I- I think I would like to rest a bit in my room. Unpack, get situated, you know?” The words don’t come out quite right you think, but Az’Lean just nods and gives you a half-smile.
“That sounds like a good idea. Let’s head back.”
By the time the two of you return to the southern wing, your feet are sore from all the walking and your thoughts keep circling back to last night involuntarily. You think if you had to spend one more minute with Az’Lean, you might just break down and tell him something you can’t ever take back.
So when you finally reach the door to your new room and he bids you farewell for now, it is with relief that you wave him goodbye. He’s only going to be in the next room over and you’ll see each other again soon, but for now, you are alone.
[[It soon turns out to be both a blessing and a curse.|Chapter3.17]]As soon as you lock the door behind you, you collapse into a heap on the floor, burying your head as deep in your arms as you can. It’s like the crash after a near-death experience, happening all at once, leaving your limbs sluggish and your heart racing. You are much too distraught to take much stock of your surroundings - you barely even notice the new curtains. <<if $curtains == "burgundy">>They are a deep burgundy that would have been calming under any other circumstances, now it looks like dried blood to you. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "green">>They are a vibrant forest green that would have been peaceful under any other circumstances, now it just reminds you of the land of the fae. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "white">>They are a pure white that would have been serene under any other circumstances, now it just looks ominous and ghostly. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "yellow">>They are a joyful yellow that would have been uplifting under any other circumstances, now it just seems sickly and smothering. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "blue">>They are a midnight blue that would have been elegenat under any other circumstances, now it just seems like a poor immitation of the royal blue used throughout the castle. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "floral">>They sport a beautiful floral pattern that would have been romantic under any other circumstances, now it just reminds you of Lady Maeve. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "surprise">>As chosen by Az'Lean, they are black velvet with golden constellations embroidered on them. <<endif>>\
These doubts and fears that threaten to consume you - not knowing what you are and what’s going to happen, feeling like a liar and a traitor already - you know right then and there that this can’t continue. Not knowing is worse than having to face the reality of being a changeling. At least that’s how you feel at this very moment, plagued by intrusive thoughts and worst-case scenarios.
Whatever else may happen - you have to know the truth. There’s no point in denying it or trying to forget it when it’s causing you so much pain already. You are a knight and you are a Champion - you well know what bravery is supposed to look like. It’s the least you can do - being brave and facing this threat head-on.
It is a potential danger to your prince, so you can’t ignore it. In your mind, you visualise the truth as some kind of monster to slay. Some ugly chimaera crawling out of the shadows. Thinking of it like that makes it easier. There’s only ever two options: victory or death. No running away. You will either be able to keep living, or not. Better to find out now.
You truly feel like you’re heading into battle as you slowly get to your feet, closely monitoring your breathing and your surroundings. It’s eerily quiet - your privacy is assured. Like the process of putting on your armour just in reverse, you methodically begin to undress until you’re left in your underwear. It’s a little chilly but sunlight is yet skirting around the horizon.
With steely determination, you march up to the full-body mirror leaning against the wall. Lady Maeve had said the truth would reveal itself to you if you just looked at yourself closely enough. Despite knowing that, you don’t really know what to do or what to expect.
You examine your mirror image closely, willing your body to relax. You know that magic is like a muscle, growing in strength the more it is used. It can be used reflexively, as well as subconsciously. You are aware that it’s possible.
It’s possible and maybe even probable, and yet still you keep hoping that nothing will happen, even as you completely relinquish any hold on your magic at all. At first everything feels the same as always, but then you find something deep within your core - it feels like a tangled knot of magic. You imagine yourself tugging at it, slowly undoing it and releasing whatever is attached to it.
The feeling is oddly liberating and a rush of dopamine hits you, fighting desperately with the part of you that is instead recoiling in horror. Your eyes are glued to the mirror and you don’t dare to blink.
Your $skin skin ripples like a puddle disturbed by rainfall, and you could almost believe you are simply looking at an illusion as it slowly starts turning grey, if it weren’t for the very real sensation of something pulling and pushing all over your body. With horror you watch your $eyes eyes turn a dim, milky red - like the kind white rabbits sometimes have. It’s like watching a light within you being snuffed out. It’s a loss of humanity.
It tears at your heart to watch your hair slowly vanish, retreating under a layer of thick, wrinkly skin as if you had just put on a grotesque hat. Your ears turn long and pointy.
A rough noise escapes you as you can feel sharp teeth brushing uncomfortably against your tongue.
Your stature and physique don’t change, so at least your muscles seem to be real. Faded scars from combat training remain visible on your body - undeniable proof of your identity.
It’s too much. It’s all too much, too horrible, too unreal. That person in the mirror is you, but it isn’t the version of you you know. It’s twisted and mangled - an old rotting canvas scraped free of its beautiful bright colours.
Had you been anything else. <i>Anything.</i> You’re not just a fae - you’re hideous. A monster, an impostor, a being made to deceive. A being made to eternally envy the beauty of others. <<set $instability to $instability + 1>>
[[The sight makes you physically ill. You rush to grab something in case you need to vomit.|Chapter3.18A]]
[[Your brain is unable to associate what you’re seeing with yourself. You’re startled when you see yourself blink.|Chapter3.18B]]
[[Your first response is to panic. What if someone were to see you like this? You hide as quickly as you can.|Chapter3.18C]]
[[Surprisingly, you don’t feel anything. Maybe you’ve always known, or maybe you’ve just gone numb.|Chapter3.18D]]You press your hands against your mouth as you scramble over to the empty wash basin in the corner of your room. You lean over it, convulsions and uneven breaths shaking your body relentlessly. You desperately try to stay as quiet as possible as you dry-heave for a few minutes, ending in a few guttural sobs.
The sight of your hands on the edges of the wash basin - made out of ceramic and not metal that you now know poisons you - still disturbs you greatly, but you manage to get your body back under control. Once you’re certain you don’t need it, you put the basin back and step hesitantly towards the mirror once more.
Against all hope, the same sight greets you, though now you look even worse - tears threatening to spill over, skin blotchy and pale at the same time, sweat clinging to your brow. Slowly, you sit down in front of the mirror, feeling for all the world like a toddler who’s seeing themselves for the first time.
It’s horrible but you can’t look away, taking in every minute detail of your new, or old, form.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, simply staring at your reflection, but it’s starting to get cold and dark. The low light makes your red eyes glow ominously. You can recognise them as your own now, even though it hurts.
There is no denying it any longer: you are a changeling. This is what you really look like. You were just wearing a human disguise before, and even though that felt much more like <i>you</i>, this is what’s underneath. Just as clothes and make-up cannot change what’s underneath, whatever this glamour magic is is just as fake.
You were always just wearing a costume and playing a part. This is a fact you now know, and even though it pains you and pushes you ever closer to the edge of despair, you resolve to not avert your eyes from it. There’s no point in running from the truth, it won’t change anything.
You have to accept that this is what you are. You can accept it as fact on a surface level, but coming to terms with it and internalising it is an entirely different matter. But for now, you can function despite knowing the truth.
As you feared, facing the truth doesn’t help you much when it comes to actually living with this reality. You are a changeling who has been impersonating a human for all your life, and now you’ve landed yourself the highest position imaginable as the prince’s right hand. It’s not a situation anyone has ever been in, you’re pretty certain on that, so how can there possibly be a solution that doesn’t end in tragedy? You can’t even picture anything other than you leaving this place forever.
You feel completely lost, adrift in a pitch black sea. There’s no one around at all, no guiding light to be seen. This feeling of isolation is strangling, knocking the breath clean out of your lungs. There’s no one you can turn to, no one you can ask for advice. One way or another, you’ll have to figure this situation out on your own.
Your mind reels as you desperately try to find anything to cling to, any hint as to what to do next. Even if there is no one you can talk to, maybe there is something else that might help you in making sense of all of this.
<<if $element == "water">> [[Maybe you should use your divination abilities.|Chapter3.19A]]<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "reading">> [[Maybe one of your books could help you.|Chapter3.19B]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "chess">> [[Maybe you should think of this like a game of chess.|Chapter3.19C]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "animals">> [[Maybe you should take inspiration from beings that exist outside of the realms of humans and fae.|Chapter3.19D]] <<endif>>You keep staring and staring and staring and so does the person in the mirror. It’s you, and although you know that on some level, it simply doesn’t make sense to you. You’ve always associated yourself with certain physical traits and now they’re simply washed away like face paint after a festival.
Gingerly, you raise a hand to touch the mirror. Your reflection does the same and you can pretend that you’re touching them. It’s cool and smooth and you recoil instantly because you just now looked at your actual hand. It looks like the one in the mirror and it’s attached to you, so it must be yours. You hold it up to your face and flex each finger individually. It responds to the inputs of your brain perfectly.
Against all hope, it is your hand. The thing you’re looking at is you. You look shaken and sad, you realise with a start. The person in the mirror looks like they’re about to start crying. You can feel the threatening burn of tears. Slowly, you sit down in front of the mirror, feeling for all the world like a toddler who’s seeing themselves for the first time.
It’s horrible but you can’t look away, taking in every minute detail of your new, or old, form.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, simply staring at your reflection, but it’s starting to get cold and dark. The low light makes your red eyes glow ominously. You can recognise them as your own now, even though it hurts.
There is no denying it any longer: you are a changeling. This is what you really look like. You were just wearing a human disguise before, and even though that felt much more like <i>you</i>, this is what’s underneath. Just as clothes and make-up cannot change what’s underneath, whatever this glamour magic is is just as fake.
You were always just wearing a costume and playing a part. This is a fact you now know, and even though it pains you and pushes you ever closer to the edge of despair, you resolve to not avert your eyes from it. There’s no point in running from the truth, it won’t change anything.
You have to accept that this is what you are. You can accept it as fact on a surface level, but coming to terms with it and internalising it is an entirely different matter. But for now, you can function despite knowing the truth.
As you feared, facing the truth doesn’t help you much when it comes to actually living with this reality. You are a changeling who has been impersonating a human for all your life, and now you’ve landed yourself the highest position imaginable as the prince’s right hand. It’s not a situation anyone has ever been in, you’re pretty certain on that, so how can there possibly be a solution that doesn’t end in tragedy? You can’t even picture anything other than you leaving this place forever.
You feel completely lost, adrift in a pitch black sea. There’s no one around at all, no guiding light to be seen. This feeling of isolation is strangling, knocking the breath clean out of your lungs. There’s no one you can turn to, no one you can ask for advice. One way or another, you’ll have to figure this situation out on your own.
Your mind reels as you desperately try to find anything to cling to, any hint as to what to do next. Even if there is no one you can talk to, maybe there is something else that might help you in making sense of all of this.
<<if $element == "water">> [[Maybe you should use your divination abilities.|Chapter3.19A]]<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "reading">> [[Maybe one of your books could help you.|Chapter3.19B]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "chess">> [[Maybe you should think of this like a game of chess.|Chapter3.19C]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "animals">> [[Maybe you should take inspiration from beings that exist outside of the realms of humans and fae.|Chapter3.19D]] <<endif>>Despite how nonsensical it seems, you dive under the bed to get your traitorous body out of sight. You clasp a hand in front of your mouth to hold your breath lest you make even the smallest noise that could alert someone to your presence. It is completely silent and there doesn’t seem to be anyone in the hallway or down below outside your window, but you can’t be sure.
Paranoia makes your blood run cold as you wait, keeping a watchful eye on both the door and the window. It’s cold being pressed against the floor, but the bed above you hides you completely within its shadow. Only the beat of your heart breaks the silence as you continue to wait.
It takes a while until you feel safe again and even longer until you can move. Hesitantly you crawl out from under the bed, glancing at the mirror. You look startled and close to tears. Slowly you sit down in front of the mirror, feeling for all the world like a toddler who’s seeing themselves for the first time.
It’s horrible but you can’t look away, taking in every minute detail of your new, or old, form.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, simply staring at your reflection, but it’s starting to get cold and dark. The low light makes your red eyes glow ominously. You can recognise them as your own now, even though it hurts.
There is no denying it any longer: you are a changeling. This is what you really look like. You were just wearing a human disguise before, and even though that felt much more like <i>you</i>, this is what’s underneath. Just as clothes and make-up cannot change what’s underneath, whatever this glamour magic is is just as fake.
You were always just wearing a costume and playing a part. This is a fact you know now, and even though it pains you and pushes you ever closer to the edge of despair, you resolve to not avert your eyes from it. There’s no point in running from the truth, it won’t change anything.
You have to accept that this is what you are. You can accept it as fact on a surface level, but coming to terms with it and internalising it is an entirely different matter. But for now, you can function despite knowing the truth.
As you feared, facing the truth doesn’t help you much when it comes to actually living with this reality. You are a changeling who has been impersonating a human for all your life, and now you’ve landed yourself the highest position imaginable as the prince’s right hand. It’s not a situation anyone has ever been in, you’re pretty certain on that, so how can there possibly be a solution that doesn’t end in tragedy? You can’t even picture anything other than you leaving this place forever.
You feel completely lost, adrift in a pitch black sea. There’s no one around at all, no guiding light to be seen. This feeling of isolation is strangling, knocking the breath clean out of your lungs. There’s no one you can turn to, no one you can ask for advice. One way or another, you’ll have to figure this situation out on your own.
Your mind reels as you desperately try to find anything to cling to, any hint as to what to do next. Even if there is no one you can talk to, maybe there is something else that might help you in making sense of all of this.
<<if $element == "water">> [[Maybe you should use your divination abilities.|Chapter3.19A]]<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "reading">> [[Maybe one of your books could help you.|Chapter3.19B]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "chess">> [[Maybe you should think of this like a game of chess.|Chapter3.19C]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "animals">> [[Maybe you should take inspiration from beings that exist outside of the realms of humans and fae.|Chapter3.19D]] <<endif>>You zone out as you keep staring at your reflection. This should be an earth-shattering revelation, a truth that shakes you to your core, and yet you feel nothing. No sadness, no fear, no disgust. Maybe changeling’s don’t have feelings. Maybe that’s how it’s going to be from now on.
That thought is more unsettling than anything you’re seeing right now. The change in your appearance is one thing, but your personality… What if that is changed too? Maybe you never were an ambitious, noble knight. Maybe you don’t actually care about your parents, or Vynn, or the kingdom. Maybe all of that was fabricated as well.
The pain does come now and it’s almost a relief. You’re heart-broken and horrified, it just feels far away, buried under layers and layers of numbingly cold snow. Your reflection looks like it’s about to start crying. Slowly you sit down in front of the mirror, feeling for all the world like a toddler who’s seeing themselves for the first time.
It’s horrible but you can’t look away, taking in every minute detail of your new, or old, form.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, simply staring at your reflection, but it’s starting to get cold and dark. The low light makes your red eyes glow ominously. You can recognise them as your own now, even though it hurts.
There is no denying it any longer: you are a changeling. This is what you really look like. You were just wearing a human disguise before, and even though that felt much more like <i>you</i>, this is what’s underneath. Just as clothes and make-up cannot change what’s underneath, whatever this glamour magic is is just as fake.
You were always just wearing a costume and playing a part. This is a fact you know now, and even though it pains you and pushes you ever closer to the edge of despair, you resolve to not avert your eyes from it. There’s no point in running from the truth, it won’t change anything.
You have to accept that this is what you are. You can accept it as fact on a surface level, but coming to terms with it and internalising it is an entirely different matter. But for now, you can function despite knowing the truth.
As you feared, facing the truth doesn’t help you much when it comes to actually living with this reality. You are a changeling who has been impersonating a human for all your life, and now you’ve landed yourself the highest position imaginable as the prince’s right hand. It’s not a situation anyone has ever been in, you’re pretty certain on that, so how can there possibly be a solution that doesn’t end in tragedy? You can’t even picture anything other than you leaving this place forever.
You feel completely lost, adrift in a pitch black sea. There’s no one around at all, no guiding light to be seen. This feeling of isolation is strangling, knocking the breath clean out of your lungs. There’s no one you can turn to, no one you can ask for advice. One way or another, you’ll have to figure this situation out on your own.
Your mind reels as you desperately try to find anything to cling to, any hint as to what to do next. Even if there is no one you can talk to, maybe there is something else that might help you in making sense of all of this.
<<if $element == "water">> [[Maybe you should use your divination abilities.|Chapter3.19A]]<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "reading">> [[Maybe one of your books could help you.|Chapter3.19B]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "chess">> [[Maybe you should think of this like a game of chess.|Chapter3.19C]] <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "animals">> [[Maybe you should take inspiration from beings that exist outside of the realms of humans and fae.|Chapter3.19D]] <<endif>>It never hurts to use divination to get a rough idea of what the future might entail, even if it isn’t always accurate or easy to understand. You have to try it, at the very least.
You quickly get dressed and try to revert back to your human appearance. It’s laughably easy as you soon realise, easier than breathing and just as automatic. You barely spend any conscious thought on it and are back to your usual self before you know it.
Once you look like nothing ever happened, you dig through your boxes in search of your crystalline scrying bowl. You find it quickly, tucked securely between your winter clothes. With utmost care you place it on your bedside table and hold out your hands above it, concentrating on the process of conjuring water. You can feel the energy flow from your fingertips into the bowl below, and soon it is filled to the brim with sparkling magical water.
You lean in as close as you can without dunking your face into the bowl and stare into the water. Thankfully, it doesn’t reflect your face. Instead, you can see a swirling mass of light glittering at the bottom of the bowl, like an image drawn in sand. You focus intently on it, straining your eyes to get a good look at it.
It seems to depict a pathway in a field somewhere, lined with fences on each side. Ahead of you the path branches out into three distinct directions, but heavy snowfall obscures their destinations. You get a glimpse of a wooden road sign, old and rotting. It reads: One cannot choose a path while underground.
Before you can try and puzzle out the message, the water ripples and the image dissipates completely.
“There are multiple paths but I don’t know where they lead, and I need more information to make a proper choice,” you mumble to yourself. It seems like the most obvious interpretation.
You suppose it makes sense. There’s much you do not know, about yourself, about the world, and about the growing tensions between Gaiapeia and the fae. Even Az’Lean you barely know, having only spent one day with him so far.
There being three distinct paths is intriguing. You can only guess at what they might be and if any of them even end in anything other than death, but the possibility of having options and choices lets you grasp onto at least a little bit of hope. You don’t know yet what it is, but there is something you can do.
First things first, you need to gather information and you can’t do that when you’re executed for being a traitor. It is entirely possible that Az’Lean would be understanding if you told him everything right now, but what if he isn’t? And what of the king? No, you’ll have to keep this a secret for now and play the role of Champion without arousing any suspicion.
Meanwhile, there are some things you need to figure out, namely who you could potentially trust with your secret, what you really know about the fae and the ongoing conflict with them, and about the kingdom itself for that matter. Most importantly, you’ll have to figure out what being a changeling even means and if your parents ever knew.
Your heart skips a beat. They aren’t your parents though, are they? They can’t be, not biologically. Even though you tried your best to accept this situation you’ve found yourself in and keep looking forward to possible solutions, you can already feel dread settling in once more. Going on like this won’t be easy, and you can only imagine what living a lie does to a person.
You might break eventually and you won’t be able to recover if there’s no one to support you. For now though, you think you can manage. It might feel like you’re a ticking time bomb, but you just have to take it one day at a time. One step at a time. <<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
If you want to get more information, you have no choice but to meet up with Lady Maeve once more.
[[End of Chapter 3 - Shapeless|Chapter3.20]]Books hold endless wisdom, so it might not be a bad idea to consult them when you have no idea what else to do.
You quickly get dressed and try to revert back to your human appearance. It’s laughably easy as you soon realise, easier than breathing and just as automatic. You barely spend any conscious thought on it and are back to your usual self before you know it.
Once you look like nothing ever happened, you dig through your boxes in search of your books, pulling a few of them out at random. Most of them are fiction, and truly it’s the inspiring nature of heroes that you could use the most right now. You pick up a random epic tale of strife and adventure and begin leafing through it, desperately searching for something to cling to.
You end up on a random page of a random story, but your gaze is drawn to a specific phrase on the page. It sticks out to you like it’s glowing, even though it’s nestled deep within a long paragraph: “One cannot choose a path while underground.” For some reason it speaks to you, and you try to puzzle it out, reading the page for context.
It is about a traveller lost in a mine, looking for a way out. He usually navigates by following the stars, but he can't see them from down here. Even though it might be cold and dangerous above ground, he knows he has to get out there if he wants to figure out what direction he is going in.
“There are multiple paths but I don’t know where they lead, and I need more information to make a proper choice,” you mumble to yourself. It seems like the most obvious interpretation.
You suppose it makes sense. There’s much you do not know, about yourself, about the world, and about the growing tensions between Gaiapeia and the fae. Even Az’Lean you barely know, having only spent one day with him so far.
The idea of there being multiple directions to go in intrigues you. You can only guess at what they might be and if any of them even end in anything other than death, but the possibility of having options and choices lets you grasp onto at least a little bit of hope. You don’t know yet what it is, but there is something you can do.
First things first, you need to gather information and you can’t do that when you’re executed for being a traitor. It is entirely possible that Az’Lean would be understanding if you told him everything right now, but what if he isn’t? And what of the king? No, you’ll have to keep this a secret for now and play the role of Champion without arousing any suspicion.
Meanwhile, there are some things you need to figure out, namely who you could potentially trust with your secret, what you really know about the fae and the ongoing conflict with them, and about the kingdom itself for that matter. Most importantly, you’ll have to figure out what being a changeling even means and if your parents ever knew.
Your heart skips a beat. They aren’t your parents though, are they? They can’t be, not biologically. Even though you tried your best to accept this situation you’ve found yourself in and keep looking forward to possible solutions, you can already feel dread settling in once more. Going on like this won’t be easy, and you can only imagine what living a lie does to a person.
You might break eventually and you won’t be able to recover if there’s no one to support you. For now though, you think you can manage. It might feel like you’re a ticking time bomb, but you just have to take it one day at a time. One step at a time. <<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
If you want to get more information, you have no choice but to meet up with Lady Maeve once more.
[[End of Chapter 3 - Shapeless|Chapter3.20]]This might be something you should approach strategically, a chess game against an unknown opponent. You’ll need to think ahead if you don’t want this to end in defeat.
You quickly get dressed and try to revert back to your human appearance. It’s laughably easy as you soon realise, easier than breathing and just as automatic. You barely spend any conscious thought on it and are back to your usual self before you know it.
Once you look like nothing ever happened, you dig through your boxes in search of your chess set, pulling out from underneath a set of blankets. With practised speed you unfold it and line up the pieces, placing the black ones in front of you as you prefer. Usually, white is considered to have the advantage of choosing the first move but you don’t mind being reactive.
You clear your mind of any and all distraction and stare at the board, trying to visualise your current situation as a simple match, an even back and forth. Chess is much like a puzzle, a complex problem to solve. You go through all the openings and gambits you know, trying desperately to glean some wisdom from them.
It is then you realise the importance of knowledge. Not only knowing certain moves, or knowing what your opponent favours, but even something as basic as understanding the rules of the game is required to be able to win. Right now, you are very much feeling like you are playing a game whose rules you don’t understand.
“There are many moves I can make, but I don’t know which of them are possible or worthwhile without any prior knowledge,” you mumble to yourself. It seems like the most obvious conclusion.
You suppose it makes sense. There’s much you do not know, about yourself, about the world, and about the growing tensions between Gaiapeia and the fae. Even Az’Lean you barely know, having only spent one day with him so far.
The idea of there being multiple moves to play intrigues you. You can only guess at what they might be and if any of them even end in anything other than tragedy, but the possibility of having options and choices lets you grasp onto at least a little bit of hope. You don’t know yet what it is, but there is something you can do.
First things first, you need to gather information and you can’t do that when you’re executed for being a traitor. It is entirely possible that Az’Lean would be understanding if you told him everything right now, but what if he isn’t? And what of the king? No, you’ll have to keep this a secret for now and play the role of Champion without arousing any suspicion.
Meanwhile, there are some things you need to figure out, namely who you could potentially trust with your secret, what you really know about the fae and the ongoing conflict with them, and about the kingdom itself for that matter. Most importantly, you’ll have to figure out what being a changeling even means and if your parents ever knew.
Your heart skips a beat. They aren’t your parents though, are they? They can’t be, not biologically. Even though you tried your best to accept this situation you’ve found yourself in and keep looking forward to possible solutions, you can already feel dread settling in once more. Going on like this won’t be easy, and you can only imagine what living a lie does to a person.
You might break eventually and you won’t be able to recover if there’s no one to support you. For now though, you think you can manage. It might feel like you’re a ticking time bomb, but you just have to take it one day at a time. One step at a time.<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
If you want to get more information, you have no choice but to meet up with Lady Maeve once more.
[[End of Chapter 3 - Shapeless|Chapter3.20]]It seems to you that animals possess something that neither humans nor fae do - some kind of inherent intuition that tells them how to live their lives. Animals don’t start pointless wars or despair over their existence.
You quickly get dressed and try to revert back to your human appearance. It’s laughably easy as you soon realise, easier than breathing and just as automatic. You barely spend any conscious thought on it and are back to your usual self before you know it.
Once you look like nothing ever happened, you make your way over to the stables. You know you should remain in Az’Lean’s general vicinity, but this can’t wait and you plan to make it quick. The horses are relaxed and sleepy, preparing themselves for the night ahead, but they don’t seem to mind your presence.
You let their presence calm you as you walk among them, listening idly to their snorts and the scratching of their hooves on the straw covered floor. “How do you know what to do?” you mumble quietly to yourself. You don’t expect to get any sort of answer, so when you hear someone clear their throat you almost jump out of your skin.
“Who’s there?” you ask as you whirl around, hand immediately going to the knife on your waist. A small old man stands before you, a stablehand by the looks of him. He runs a hand through his long white beard, watching you with interest.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his voice sounding rough and deep. “As to how they know what to do…well part of it is instinct and part of it is training, aye? Not all horses are easy to tame.”
You stare at the man, wondering how to get out of this conversation. The calm presence of the horses has all but vanished, leaving you on edge. He holds your gaze, waiting for you to answer before realising that you don’t want to.
“You know,” he says unprompted, “if a horse gets lost, they’ll look for familiar terrain. They don’t know where to run to if they don’t know where they are, but once they get somewhere open and can look around, they’ll be able to find their way home without issue. They’re really good at mapping out paths in their mind and they can tell which way is north. Smart, right?”
The man begins to walk away but you can’t help but call out after him. “So all they need is a vantage point?”
He doesn’t stop in his tracks but even so you can hear his answer, just before he disappears in a wooden tool shed. “You can’t tell where you’re going if you don’t know where you are, right?”
You stare at where the mysterious man had just left your vision, rattled by his words.
“So it’s all about knowledge. Gathering information,” you mumble to yourself as you turn around and head back inside.
You suppose it makes sense. There’s much you do not know, about yourself, about the world, and about the growing tensions between Gaiapeia and the fae. Even Az’Lean you barely know, having only spent one day with him so far.
The idea of being able to find your way home no matter where you are intrigues you. You can only guess at what paths you might have to take to get there and if any of them even end in anything other than tragedy, but the possibility of having options and choices lets you grasp onto at least a little bit of hope. You don’t know yet what it is, but there is something you can do.
First things first, you need to gather information and you can’t do that when you’re executed for being a traitor. It is entirely possible that Az’Lean would be understanding if you told him everything right now, but what if he isn’t? And what of the king? No, you’ll have to keep this a secret for now and play the role of Champion without arousing any suspicion.
Meanwhile, there are some things you need to figure out, namely who you could potentially trust with your secret, what you really know about the fae and the ongoing conflict with them, and about the kingdom itself for that matter. Most importantly, you’ll have to figure out what being a changeling even means and if your parents ever knew.
Your heart skips a beat. They aren’t your parents though, are they? They can’t be, not biologically. Even though you tried your best to accept this situation you’ve found yourself in and keep looking forward to possible solutions, you can already feel dread settling in once more. Going on like this won’t be easy, and you can only imagine what living a lie does to a person.
You might break eventually and you won’t be able to recover if there’s no one to support you. For now though, you think you can manage. It might feel like you’re a ticking time bomb, but you just have to take it one day at a time. One step at a time.<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
If you want to get more information, you have no choice but to meet up with Lady Maeve once more.
[[End of Chapter 3 - Shapeless|Chapter3.20]]“I suppose that makes sense,” he says. “I can see the appeal of both. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that both kinds of atmosphere have their uses.”
You aren’t sure what he means by that, but you also aren’t sure whether it would be appropriate to ask. It is quite a delicate situation you’ve found yourself in. Even though Az’Lean seems to prefer being treated casually, nothing will ever change the fact that he is your prince and some propriety is necessary. Figuring out how to behave around him is going to be a challenge.
<i>Provided he doesn’t execute you for being a liar and a spy</i>, a devious voice whispers in the back of your mind and you almost bump into one of the servants as you finally reach the end of the stairs.
“This floor is where both my and your chamber are, as well as a few rooms for guests. My father resides on another floor,” Az’Lean explains as he keeps leading you down the corridor.
A lush, midnight blue carpet has been rolled out across the stone, adding warmth and comfort to the otherwise grey surroundings. Chiselled stone walls curve slightly inwards to a high, pointed ceiling from which magically lit lanterns dangle on iron chains. It feels very different from the bustling, sunlit entrance hall downstairs.
“It feels strange to be wearing boots while walking across the carpet,” you note absentmindedly.
“Be glad that you’re not the one who has to scrub it,” one of the servants responds with a huff. You feel a little bit guilty, but there really isn’t anywhere else for you to walk on. At least you didn’t walk through any mud on the way here.
“It’ll be put away in a few weeks once it’s warm enough,” Az’Lean says before coming to a halt in front of one of many oaken doors. “This will be your room. I hope it is to your liking.”
He sets down the box he is holding, fishes a bronze key out of the pouch at his belt and holds it out to you. Carefully, you set down what you were holding as well and gingerly take the key into your hands. You take a moment to stare at the delicate key, unable to feel it properly through the leather of your gloves. This is the key to your room now. <i>Your</i> key.
With mounting anticipation, you insert the key and unlock the door. With a dramatic flourish, Az’Lean opens it for you as if unveiling a secret. The room that is revealed to you is bathed in sunlight, dust particles floating through the air behind a large, closed window on the opposite wall of the room.
The walls are made out of polished sandstone, the hardwood floor seems to be made from oak to complement the door and the window frame, and the same magical lanterns as in the corridor hang from the ceiling here as well.
While there isn’t a lot of furniture, it all seems to be made out of high quality wood and intricately carved: there’s a bed, a full-body mirror, a desk and a chair, as well as a few shelves and chests for storage. You figure with a few additions of your own, this place would soon enough come to suit your needs perfectly.
You can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed at the thought of making your home here and your breath stutters for a second.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you what colour you’d like for your curtains and bedding”, Az’Lean says as he helps the servants store your belongings in the empty corner next to your bed. “I want you to feel right at home here.”
Something constricts painfully in your chest. <i>Home.</i>
“That is very kind of you. I think I would like…”
[[“Deep burgundy, warm and rich.”|Chapter3.3A]]
[[“Forest green, lush and refreshing.”|Chapter3.3B]]
[[“Pure white, simple and clean.”|Chapter3.3C]]
[[“Colourful floral patterns.”|Chapter3.3D]]
[[“Sunny yellow, bright and joyful.”|Chapter3.3E]]
[[“Midnight blue, cool and calming.”|Chapter3.3F]]
[[“You know what? Surprise me.”|Chapter3.3G]]<img src="images/Chap4.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 19th of the Cherry Moon
As the upcoming meeting with Lady Maeve persistently looms above you, you fully expect the rest of the week to drag on. It is an event you are anticipating with mixed feelings indeed, looking for more answers while dreading them all the same. It is a constant thought in the back of your mind, no matter what else you are doing,
You expected that the knowledge of being a changeling would weigh on you, threatening to drag you under at a moment’s notice, but the fact of the matter is that this week went by in no time at all. As it turns out, being a Champion is actually a lot of work with nary a minute of free time in the day - a most welcome diversion. Or maybe it is more accurate to say that being a prince is a lot of work, and being a Champion means having to share in those duties. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out what Az’Lean’s schedule typically looks like, and quickly it becomes your own as well.
Between attending long meetings that stretch for a candle’s worth of time, participating in all sorts of courtly goings-ons, in which every noble demands exceedingly ridiculous amounts of Az’Lean’s time, and lots and lots of combat training with the prince that leaves you exhausted, there are a lot of other small things that quickly begin piling up and often have you busy until late into the evening.
Living in your new room, being around Az’Lean - it all still takes some getting used to, but you can feel yourself adapting. Slowly, surely. It seems you deal well with change - who would have thought?
But as smoothly as everything seems to be going, Sunday arrives suddenly and sharply. You awake feeling not at all ready to meet Lady Maeve and discuss everything that has been rattling around in your mind. You’re not even sure if you should be meeting with her, all things considered, not just because she might be dangerous or treacherous, but because of the risk of being seen with her.
The idea is to meet her at the same time and place as last week - at midnight in the castle gardens. It’s shaping up to be warm and pleasant, and you hope that doesn’t entice anyone to go for a midnight stroll. It really isn’t a great meeting place, but you have no way of arranging a different one.
[[But that is tonight, and for now it’s still morning.|Chapter4.2]]<<set $curtains to "burgundy">>\
“Burgundy cloth is easy enough to come by and it fits with all seasons. A good choice,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that,” you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]<<set $curtains to "green">>\
“I had a feeling you’d choose a natural colour. Forest green would suit you, I think,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that”, you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]<<set $curtains to "white">>\
“White is always a good choice. It fits with everything and brightens up the room,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that”, you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]<<set $curtains to "floral">>\
“Flower designs have been getting increasingly popular. I’m sure we can find some for you,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that”, you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]<<set $curtains to "yellow">>\
“A bright colour like yellow is sure to liven up your room. A fine choice,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that”, you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]<<set $curtains to "blue">>\
“Most carpets and banners in the castle are midnight blue, so your room will fit right in,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that”, you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]<<set $curtains to "surprise">>\
“I’m not sure if I have what it takes to decide on your interior design for you, but I’ll do my best,” Az’Lean remarks with a half-smile. His gaze wanders around the room as if he is imagining a particular scene. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. On that note though, let us continue the tour for now. You’ll have time to unpack and get situated later. Sam, George, you are dismissed.”
The two servants bow deeply before leaving the room almost noiselessly, as if they were nothing more than a pair of shadows. You pocket the key to your room, not bothering to lock it. If someone is going to come and install curtains, they’ll have to access your room somehow anyway.
Az’Lean leads you just a few paces down the hall, stopping at the very next door already. It looks almost identical to all the others, except for a ring of runes etched around the edges of the doorframe. You’re no expert, but you recognise them as some sort of magical protection.
“These are my chambers,” Az’Lean explains. “In case of emergency, feel free to enter without knocking first. Otherwise, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
His hands move along the wood for a moment and you hear a clicking sound. Rather than using a key, the prince seems to use a different, more secretive method of unlocking the door to his room.
“Will the door even open for me?” you wonder aloud. “If I tried entering without your knowledge?”
“The wood knows who I consider trustworthy,” Az’Lean says by way of explanation. Even though it sounds like a simple answer, the implication of his words is not lost on you. He didn’t say it would open for you, meaning he doesn’t necessarily trust you. <i>He shouldn’t trust you.</i>
Az’Lean opens the door inward and steps inside, revealing a room that is surprisingly dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you peek through the doorway.
The room is bigger than yours but not by much, through maybe the clutter just makes it seem smaller. As the prince enters, he has to manoeuvre around an armour-stand that somewhat blocks the entrance, the black armour he had been wearing yesterday displayed on it. You wonder if he just put it there in a hurry or if it’s supposed to be some kind of scare-tactic.
Even though the sky-blue curtains on the windows are drawn open, any sort of sunlight is partially blocked by strange metal shutters beyond the glass pane. Your stomach lurches as you realise that it's there to protect against any fae that might try and enter. <i>Of course, what kind of fae would simply walk through the front door?</i>
Aside from the metal shutters, the walls and floor are identical to your room. You can see two more wooden doors, these ones smaller than the entrance, and gather that one of them probably leads to a private bathroom.
The prince’s bed is made out of ebony and covered by a canopy of blue silk. Next to it are a lot of chests and wardrobes, clothing pouring out as if there was too much of it to be contained. Countless books, more books than you have ever seen in one room, litter every available surface - his desk, his bedside table, even atop the mantle of his unlit fireplace.
Intricate weapons and shields are hung up on the wall in place of paintings or other decorations, though you do spot a few framed maps of Gaiapeia. Strange objects are stacked in shelves - bottles filled with liquids, scales and brewing stands made of brass, random scraps of metal and painting supplies.
All in all, the room looks much less regal than you expected, and you can’t imagine anyone has cleaned all this up in quite some time.
You linger at the door for a moment longer. “Is it alright for me to enter?”
Az’Lean spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Of course, feel free to look around. It is probably not a bad idea to familiarise yourself with the layout of my chambers at least somewhat. I will not lie and say there isn’t a chance that we might get attacked in here someday, so you should get some awareness of these surroundings.”
Your gaze automatically lands on the shutter in front of his window as you step inside.
“Right. About that… I know that, traditionally, a Champion should always be at their prince’s side to aid and protect. We made the compromise to protect each other, but what exactly does that look like? What are my duties?”
Az’Lean sits down behind his desk for a moment, hands absentmindedly pushing papers and books around. “To be honest, I didn’t want a Champion, so I haven’t given it much thought. How did you imagine this position to be like?”
You can’t help but frown at that. “You’re asking me? This is a little embarrassing, but I always just imagined myself following you around, fighting side by side against any threats that may arise.”
“You realise that a lot of my time is spent in meetings or at my desk,” Az’Lean says and taps his fingers against one of the documents in front of him. “Just standing behind me during all that would bore you out of your mind.”
“I figured you would say something like that. But what if someone attacks the castle when you’re in a meeting? What if someone– What if someone infiltrates it and you’re alone?”
His expression darkens immediately and for a moment you think you’ve made a terrible mistake, but his gaze is distant and he is clearly not glowering at you. “These are dangerous times, you are right. Fine, let’s compromise. Whenever we leave this floor of the castle, we stick together. This way, you don’t have to sit around in my room when I work and we can both have our privacy during meal times and the like.”
“That sounds good,” you say almost in a whisper, not daring to snap the prince out of his trance-like state.
He seems to come back to himself on his own, blinking a few times before smiling slightly. “That, and you’ll get Sundays off. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your friends or get out of the city on occasion.”
<i>Maybe Sundays will be the days you meet up with Lady Maeve and tell her state secrets.</i>
Your breath hitches. “Are you sure that’s fine?”
Az’Lean chuckles and places a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I promise I won’t go to any dangerous places on my own on Sundays.”
“I suppose I can work with that”, you say, something painful and ugly gnawing away on your insides. You push it down forcefully. “As lovely as your room is, what’s next up on the tour?”
“Should I apologise for the mess?” Az’Lean asks, suddenly seeming critical of the state it is in. “I didn’t really consider whether this is aesthetically pleasing or not.”
“I like the colour of your silk canopy. The way it shimmers reminds me of the sky’s reflection in a lake,” you say.
Az’Lean hums in agreement. “It makes me feel like I’m flying when I stare up at it.”
A shame it’s so dark in here, you think to yourself but don’t say it aloud.
The colour matches your eyes, you also don’t say.
“Yeah,” you say instead.
Before the silence is allowed to get uncomfortable, Az’Lean gets up from his desk and leaves the room. You follow closely behind him, letting the door fall closed behind you. It seems to seal itself shut on its own with a click.
“All right, next up on the tour: the library,” Az’Lean announces and begins heading farther down the corridor. “I imagine you’ll be quite impressed by it. Everyone is the first time they see it.”
[[As you keep walking with Prince Az’Lean, you make sure to stay half a step behind him at all times.|Chapter3.4]]Soon enough, you arrive at another winding staircase leading up to the next floor.
“The library is on the floor above this one? No wonder there are so many scholars wandering these halls,” you say as you follow Az’Lean up the stairs. They’re even more worn down than the last set, and the stone has become slippery from being trampled upon. The thought of carrying books up and down these stairs all day long makes you grimace internally.
“It’s more accurate to say that the library <i>is</i> the floor above this one. It spans the entire length of it after decades of expanding. The idea to throw any of the old books away always seemed preposterous, so the space needed to keep up with all of the new additions simply keeps growing. Soon enough our rooms will be swallowed by it as well,” Az’Lean jokes.
You hum thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a library. At least it would be quiet.”
Instead of stepping into another corridor, a large set of double-doors awaits you at the end of the staircase. It turns out that the prince wasn’t kidding, the library indeed stretches across the entire floor. Az’Lean pushes the doors open with ease despite their size, and they open soundlessly as if they are much lighter than they look.
As you enter the library, you immediately notice that your footsteps don’t make even the slightest noise as you step onto the hardwood floor. There must be some kind of magic at play here to dampen sounds.
“I almost don’t even want to whisper,” you say as you shuffle further inside. Your voice seems to be clear and unaffected, at least.
As expected, bookcases fill the room, lining the walls and stretching towards the ceiling. Although there are quite a few lanterns spread around the room, it becomes so dark towards the ceiling that you can barely make out where the bookshelves end - it’s like a black void has opened up in the sky above you, sucking everything in. Truly, there isn’t any part of the wall that isn’t also covered in bookshelves, and even much of the floor is taken up by haphazard stacks strewn about.
Tables and chairs have been squeezed in between the shelves, though everything looks so cramped that they are barely accessible. Golden ladders are attached to most bookshelves, people dressed like scholars and mages swivelling around on them with practised ease. Neither the ladders nor the people seem to make any sounds at all, seeming to you almost like mere illusions.
Despite the grandeur of it all, you can’t help but feel like you just wandered into a deadly maze. There are some brass signs hung up to indicate certain sections, but there is no such thing as numbered rows or any other kind of system. There does seem to be a help-desk of some kind further in, but there isn’t anyone behind it.
“How do you find anything in here?” you ask while aimlessly wandering into a random aisle. You spot a lot of books about herbology here, though there is also something titled 'The Tailor’s Erotic Misadventures' that you assume doesn’t belong.
“There is an enchanted registry that can help you find something,” Az’Lean says as he points towards the empty help-desk. “Do you want to try it out?”
Admittedly, it does peak your interest. “Sure. How does it work?”
He leads you over to the help-desk and directs your attention to the book lying upon it. It looks utterly unremarkable, brown leather binding and old yellow pages. Upon closer inspection, you notice that it is fastened to the desk by a metal chain - clearly it isn’t supposed to be moved.
“Just think about what you are looking for and open it to a random page,” Az’Lean instructs.
You do as he says, thinking of something easy as your hands thumb through the pages: 'The History of Gaiapeia' by Sigurd Ashbrooke. You flip the book open, peering down at it with anticipation.
To your surprise, the pages are entirely empty, though a small golden light is hovering above them. It rises into the air, stopping in front of your face for a second before slowly starting to move further into the library.
“If you follow it, it’ll lead you to what you’re looking for,” Az’Lean explains as you let yourself be guided by the light. “Though if you’re not thinking of a specific title, the registry will sometimes conjure dozens of lights all scattering in different directions. It’s not a perfect system.”
“It’s bloody brilliant nonetheless,” you say, $eyes eyes wide in awe. “I knew magic could do incredible things, but something like this is just mind-boggling.”
Az’Lean looks pleased. “That’s what you can achieve when you have a lot of mages working together over a long period of time. That’s our next stop by the way: the magical laboratory. It’s in the tower on the other side of the library.”
Just as he finishes his sentence, the light suddenly stops in front of a book that is lying on a table, open and currently in the process of being read by a hooded woman.
Her back is turned to you and she doesn’t look up. “You can’t have it right now.”
Az’Lean chuckles, recognition lighting up his eyes.
[[“Why hello there, Thianne.”|Chapter3.5]]<<set $lovemet to 4>>\
At the mention of her name, the woman slowly turns around, allowing you to get a look at her face beneath the hood of the red cloak she’s wearing. Amber eyes glint at you amidst soft features and dark skin. Her coily black hair is short, just barely reaching around ears that have been pierced with golden studs and rings. Full lips are turned down in something bordering on a sneer.
“Az’Lean,” she remarks coolly, apparently not bothered by the fact that she is addressing the prince. Her piercing gaze flits to you. “And…?”
Az’Lean gestures towards you with a small smile. “This is $playername Grahm, my Champion.”
You hold out your hand towards her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Thianne.”
She stares at it for a good few seconds, and just when you are about to retract it, she gets to her feet with a groan and grabs it. Although she seems to be rather short, almost two full heads shorter than Az’Lean, her grip hides considerable strength.
“Pleasure is all mine,” she drawls before turning her attention back to Az’Lean. “I thought you didn’t want a Champion.”
<<if $pronoun == "his">> He glances at you for a split second. “I changed my mind. He impressed me yesterday.” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "their">> He glances at you for a split second. “I changed my mind. They impressed me yesterday.” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "her">> He glances at you for a split second. “I changed my mind. She impressed me yesterday.” <<endif>>\
You can’t help but feel a swell of pride at his words.
“Too bad I wasn’t interested enough to go see it,” Thianne says with a shrug.
Az’Lean ignores the quip, seemingly used to her abrasive behaviour. “Thianne here is one of our best sorceresses. I rely on her a lot, not only for her magical prowess, but as a trusted advisor. You’ll be seeing a lot of each other, so I hope you’ll get along.”
“As long as you don’t disturb me when I’m workin’, there shouldn’t be any problems,” she adds. “So, are you here to steal this book from me or what?”
“Oh, I don’t actually need it,” you explain quickly. “His maj- I mean, Az’Lean was just showing me how the registry worked.”
As soon as you say these words, the golden light that had been hovering above the history books dissolves into nothing. You can’t help but marvel at it.
“Then if that’s all…” Thianne makes a show of sitting back down, turning her back to you and pulling her hood deeper over her face.
“Actually…” Az’Lean begins slowly, causing Thianne’s shoulders to go rigid with annoyance. “Would you like to show $playername around the magic lab? You know your way around it far better than I do, and it might be a good opportunity for you two to get to know each other.”
“No, I would not like to,” she grumbles.
“It really isn’t necessary, I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. Besides, you have a feeling it would be quite an awkward affair.
Az’Lean clears his throat, his eyes gleaming like blue flames in the dimly lit library. “I would much appreciate it, Thianne.”
Something about the way he said it must’ve sounded like an order to her as she slowly closes the book before tucking it under her arm and getting up again. “If it’s that important to you, I guess I have no choice.”
Az’Lean flashes her a dazzling smile. “Thank you, I’ll meet you at the entrance of the library when you’re done. Don’t hesitate to bombard her with questions, $playername.”
You raise an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
Thianne nods at the prince in farewell before gesturing for you to follow her. “The magical laboratory is this way, Champion. Don’t touch anything inside - just a heads-up.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself. Oh, and you can just call me by my name, it’s fine.”
She scrunches up her nose as she leads you further into the library, past winding bookshelves and empty tables. “I’m gonna be honest with you, I already forgot your name.”
“It’s $playername,” you say, unsure whether it was an honest mistake or a slight against you.
“Hmm, $playername. Got it, got it,” Thianne mumbles to herself. “I’m not great with irrelevant informa- I mean, I’m not great with names.”
[[You can’t help but laugh. There’s something funny about her blunt nature.|Chapter3.6A]]
[[You frown in displeasure. She could stand to be a bit less rude.|Chapter3.6B]]
[[You hum awkwardly, not yet sure whether she’s intentionally trying to insult you.|Chapter3.6C]]
[[You decide to simply ignore that particular comment.|Chapter3.6D]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>> <<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
Laughter bubbles up within your chest, escaping before you can hold it back. Thianne doesn’t particularly react to your amusement, her face as dead-pan as ever, though at the very least she doesn’t seem bothered by it.
“So, you’re a sorceress? What kind of magic do you use?” you ask in an attempt to prevent any kind of awkward silence from settling in.
Thianne is silent for a moment, either thinking about how to best answer you or planning not to answer at all. “While I do have an affinity for healin’ magic, I mainly focus on enchantments,” she mumbles more to herself than you. “Protective wards, magical weapons, stuff like that. Healin’ alone gets boring after a while but I’m not much of a fighter myself.”
<<if $element == "fire">> “That sounds like it requires a lot more theoretical knowledge than throwing fireballs.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> “My affinity lies with healing magic too. It’s good to know that there’s a lot of other types of magic I could learn.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> “That sounds interesting. It must have taken a lot of study to learn different kinds of magic.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> “That sounds interesting. I didn’t know that so many different kinds of magic could be learnt by one person.” <<endif>>\
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Thianne says, sounding pleased with the way the conversation is going. “There’s nothin’ quite like magic. Speakin’ of, we’ve arrived at the entrance to the tower.”
It seems that you have walked along the entire length of the floor, reaching the end of the library and the next set of stairs. These ones are wooden and a lot more clean and polished than the stone steps from earlier. Clearly, a lot less people use them and those that do don’t track a lot of mud around.
“Magic lab is at the top. Good exercise, not that a knight needs it,” Thianne says as she begins climbing the spiral staircase, her short legs making it an arduous task. The lanterns that had lit up the library are being replaced by floating blue orbs of magical light, increasing in number with every step you take.
Silence stretches between you again and you think about another question you could ask her. You reflect on what the prince had mentioned earlier and curiosity gets the best of you.
“How did you end up becoming one of Prince Az’Lean’s most trusted advisors? There’s gotta be some history there,” you ask, even though it is a somewhat personal question.
Thianne seems to have expected it for she answers within a heartbeat. “I’m one of the only people in this castle who talks to him bluntly. No lies, no embellishment, no beatin’ around the bush with me. I say it how it is and he appreciates it, apparently.”
You feel like the ground beneath your feet has suddenly vanished as you realise how much Az’Lean values honesty. Even though you try your best not to think about it, you can’t help but visualise it: you being a traitor, a liar, a monster in disguise leading a cursed double life, stringing your prince along all the while. It might not be real or true or even worth considering, but your brain won’t let you stop.
Something wraps around your lungs and you suddenly find it difficult to breathe. Thankfully, Thianne doesn’t comment on your silence and after a bit of laboured breathing, the feeling passes. It leaves you feeling shaken up and a bit sweaty, but you are able to keep climbing the stairs.
“You bein’ his Champion now must mean you did somethin’ he liked as well,” Thianne continues the conversation on her own, to your surprise. “What was it?”
“When we fought, it was technically a draw, but I was stubborn and kept begging him to make me his Champion. Maybe it was my tenacity he liked. I promised him that I wouldn’t just lay down my life for him and that we could instead protect each other. I think he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having someone be his equal, not to sound arrogant or anything.”
The words seem to bubble out of you almost involuntarily. Maybe you are just glad for the opportunity to distract your mind.
“Who knows what Prince Az’Lean was thinking though,” you add on. “Maybe he had a different reason.”
Thianne nods in agreement. “He is a very complex person.”
You can’t see her facial expression as she’s walking in front of you, though you do notice the tensing of her shoulders.
[[“I’d advise you to tread carefully around him.”|Chapter3.7]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne - 5>>\
You don’t bother to hide the frown that creeps onto your face as you keep pondering Thianne’s rude behaviour. At first you thought maybe she is very close to the prince and addressed him casually because of that, but now you get the feeling that she is just a stand-offish person in general.
There are a few moments of silence as she leads you along before you decide to break the tension. “So, you’re a sorceress? What kind of magic do you use?”
Thianne is silent for a moment, either thinking about how to best answer you or planning not to answer at all. “While I do have an affinity for healin’ magic, I mainly focus on enchantments,” she mumbles more to herself than you. “Protective wards, magical weapons, stuff like that. Healin’ alone gets boring after a while but I’m not much of a fighter myself.”
<<if $element == "fire">> “That sounds like it requires a lot more theoretical knowledge than throwing fireballs.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> “My affinity lies with healing magic too. It’s good to know that there’s a lot of other types of magic I could learn.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> “That sounds interesting. It must have taken a lot of study to learn different kinds of magic.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> “That sounds interesting. I didn’t know that so many different kinds of magic could be learnt by one person.” <<endif>>\
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Thianne says, sounding pleased with the way the conversation is going. “There’s nothin’ quite like magic. Speakin’ of, we’ve arrived at the entrance to the tower.”
It seems that you have walked along the entire length of the floor, reaching the end of the library and the next set of stairs. These ones are wooden and a lot more clean and polished than the stone steps from earlier. Clearly, a lot less people use them and those that do don’t track a lot of mud around.
“Magic lab is at the top. Good exercise, not that a knight needs it,” Thianne says as she begins climbing the spiral staircase, her short legs making it an arduous task. The lanterns that had lit up the library are being replaced by floating blue orbs of magical light, increasing in number with every step you take.
Silence stretches between you again and you think about another question you could ask her. You reflect on what the prince had mentioned earlier and curiosity gets the best of you.
“How did you end up becoming one of Prince Az’Lean’s most trusted advisors? There’s gotta be some history there,” you ask, even though it is a somewhat personal question.
Thianne seems to have expected it for she answers within a heartbeat. “I’m one of the only people in this castle who talks to him bluntly. No lies, no embellishment, no beatin’ around the bush with me. I say it how it is and he appreciates it, apparently.”
You feel like the ground beneath your feet has suddenly vanished as you realise how much Az’Lean values honesty. Even though you try your best not to think about it, you can’t help but visualise it: you being a traitor, a liar, a monster in disguise leading a cursed double life, stringing your prince along all the while. It might not be real or true or even worth considering, but your brain won’t let you stop.
Something wraps around your lungs and you suddenly find it difficult to breathe. Thankfully, Thianne doesn’t comment on your silence and after a bit of laboured breathing, the feeling passes. It leaves you feeling shaken up and a bit sweaty, but you are able to keep climbing the stairs.
“You bein’ his Champion now must mean you did somethin’ he liked as well,” Thianne continues the conversation on her own, to your surprise. “What was it?”
“When we fought, it was technically a draw, but I was stubborn and kept begging him to make me his Champion. Maybe it was my tenacity he liked. I promised him that I wouldn’t just lay down my life for him and that we could instead protect each other. I think he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having someone be his equal, not to sound arrogant or anything.”
The words seem to bubble out of you almost involuntarily. Maybe you are just glad for the opportunity to distract your mind.
“Who knows what Prince Az’Lean was thinking though,” you add on. “Maybe he had a different reason.”
Thianne nods in agreement. “He is a very complex person.”
You can’t see her facial expression as she’s walking in front of you, though you do notice the tensing of her shoulders.
[[“I’d advise you to tread carefully around him.”|Chapter3.7]]A slightly awkward silence settles over you as Thianne continues to lead you through the library. You get the distinct feeling that she isn’t the type to instigate any sort of conversation and it’s making you a bit tense. You know she ended up agreeing to this, but that was for Az’Lean’s sake, not for you.
You figure maybe you should simply try to make some small-talk. “So, you’re a sorceress? What kind of magic do you use?”
Thianne is silent for a moment, either thinking about how to best answer you or planning not to answer at all. “While I do have an affinity for healin’ magic, I mainly focus on enchantments,” she mumbles more to herself than you. “Protective wards, magical weapons, stuff like that. Healin’ alone gets boring after a while but I’m not much of a fighter myself.”
<<if $element == "fire">> “That sounds like it requires a lot more theoretical knowledge than throwing fireballs.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> “My affinity lies with healing magic too. It’s good to know that there’s a lot of other types of magic I could learn.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> “That sounds interesting. It must have taken a lot of study to learn different kinds of magic.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> “That sounds interesting. I didn’t know that so many different kinds of magic could be learnt by one person.” <<endif>>\
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Thianne says, sounding pleased with the way the conversation is going. “There’s nothin’ quite like magic. Speakin’ of, we’ve arrived at the entrance to the tower.”
It seems that you have walked along the entire length of the floor, reaching the end of the library and the next set of stairs. These ones are wooden and a lot more clean and polished than the stone steps from earlier. Clearly, a lot less people use them and those that do don’t track a lot of mud around.
“Magic lab is at the top. Good exercise, not that a knight needs it,” Thianne says as she begins climbing the spiral staircase, her short legs making it an arduous task. The lanterns that had lit up the library are being replaced by floating blue orbs of magical light, increasing in number with every step you take.
Silence stretches between you again and you think about another question you could ask her. You reflect on what the prince had mentioned earlier and curiosity gets the best of you.
“How did you end up becoming one of Prince Az’Lean’s most trusted advisors? There’s gotta be some history there,” you ask, even though it is a somewhat personal question.
Thianne seems to have expected it for she answers within a heartbeat. “I’m one of the only people in this castle who talks to him bluntly. No lies, no embellishment, no beatin’ around the bush with me. I say it how it is and he appreciates it, apparently.”
You feel like the ground beneath your feet has suddenly vanished as you realise how much Az’Lean values honesty. Even though you try your best not to think about it, you can’t help but visualise it: you being a traitor, a liar, a monster in disguise leading a cursed double life, stringing your prince along all the while. It might not be real or true or even worth considering, but your brain won’t let you stop.
Something wraps around your lungs and you suddenly find it difficult to breathe. Thankfully, Thianne doesn’t comment on your silence and after a bit of laboured breathing, the feeling passes. It leaves you feeling shaken up and a bit sweaty, but you are able to keep climbing the stairs.
“You bein’ his Champion now must mean you did somethin’ he liked as well,” Thianne continues the conversation on her own, to your surprise. “What was it?”
“When we fought, it was technically a draw, but I was stubborn and kept begging him to make me his Champion. Maybe it was my tenacity he liked. I promised him that I wouldn’t just lay down my life for him and that we could instead protect each other. I think he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having someone be his equal, not to sound arrogant or anything.”
The words seem to bubble out of you almost involuntarily. Maybe you are just glad for the opportunity to distract your mind.
“Who knows what Prince Az’Lean was thinking though,” you add on. “Maybe he had a different reason.”
Thianne nods in agreement. “He is a very complex person.”
You can’t see her facial expression as she’s walking in front of you, though you do notice the tensing of her shoulders.
[[“I’d advise you to tread carefully around him.”|Chapter3.7]]A slightly awkward silence settles over you as Thianne continues to lead you through the library. You get the distinct feeling that she isn’t the type to instigate any sort of conversation and it’s making you a bit tense. You know she ended up agreeing to this, but that was for Az’Lean’s sake, not for you.
You figure maybe you should simply try to make some small-talk. “So, you’re a sorceress? What kind of magic do you use?”
Thianne is silent for a moment, either thinking about how to best answer you or planning not to answer at all. “While I do have an affinity for healin’ magic, I mainly focus on enchantments,” she mumbles more to herself than you. “Protective wards, magical weapons, stuff like that. Healin’ alone gets boring after a while but I’m not much of a fighter myself.”
<<if $element == "fire">> “That sounds like it requires a lot more theoretical knowledge than throwing fireballs.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> “My affinity lies with healing magic too. It’s good to know that there’s a lot of other types of magic I could learn.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> “That sounds interesting. It must have taken a lot of study to learn different kinds of magic.” <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> “That sounds interesting. I didn’t know that so many different kinds of magic could be learnt by one person.” <<endif>>\
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Thianne says, sounding pleased with the way the conversation is going. “There’s nothin’ quite like magic. Speakin’ of, we’ve arrived at the entrance to the tower.”
It seems that you have walked along the entire length of the floor, reaching the end of the library and the next set of stairs. These ones are wooden and a lot more clean and polished than the stone steps from earlier. Clearly, a lot less people use them and those that do don’t track a lot of mud around.
“Magic lab is at the top. Good exercise, not that a knight needs it,” Thianne says as she begins climbing the spiral staircase, her short legs making it an arduous task. The lanterns that had lit up the library are being replaced by floating blue orbs of magical light, increasing in number with every step you take.
Silence stretches between you again and you think about another question you could ask her. You reflect on what the prince had mentioned earlier and curiosity gets the best of you.
“How did you end up becoming one of Prince Az’Lean’s most trusted advisors? There’s gotta be some history there,” you ask, even though it is a somewhat personal question.
Thianne seems to have expected it for she answers within a heartbeat. “I’m one of the only people in this castle who talks to him bluntly. No lies, no embellishment, no beatin’ around the bush with me. I say it how it is and he appreciates it, apparently.”
You feel like the ground beneath your feet has suddenly vanished as you realise how much Az’Lean values honesty. Even though you try your best not to think about it, you can’t help but visualise it: you being a traitor, a liar, a monster in disguise leading a cursed double life, stringing your prince along all the while. It might not be real or true or even worth considering, but your brain won’t let you stop.
Something wraps around your lungs and you suddenly find it difficult to breathe. Thankfully, Thianne doesn’t comment on your silence and after a bit of laboured breathing, the feeling passes. It leaves you feeling shaken up and a bit sweaty, but you are able to keep climbing the stairs.
“You bein’ his Champion now must mean you did somethin’ he liked as well,” Thianne continues the conversation on her own, to your surprise. “What was it?”
“When we fought, it was technically a draw, but I was stubborn and kept begging him to make me his Champion. Maybe it was my tenacity he liked. I promised him that I wouldn’t just lay down my life for him and that we could instead protect each other. I think he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having someone be his equal, not to sound arrogant or anything.”
The words seem to bubble out of you almost involuntarily. Maybe you are just glad for the opportunity to distract your mind.
“Who knows what Prince Az’Lean was thinking though,” you add on. “Maybe he had a different reason.”
Thianne nods in agreement. “He is a very complex person.”
You can’t see her facial expression as she’s walking in front of you, though you do notice the tensing of her shoulders.
[[“I’d advise you to tread carefully around him.”|Chapter3.7]]Thianne immediately seems to regret her words, frowning deeply.
"What do you mean by that?" you can't help but ask.
“It really isn’t my place to say,” she says with a shrug. “I already said too much. Would you look at that, we’ve conveniently arrived at the magic lab, so there’s nothin’ at all weird about me droppin’ the subject.”
You are fine with not talking about it further, but that doesn’t mean that the words aren’t going to be burnt into your mind, rattling around in there like spare change in an empty purse. Did Thianne mean to be careful around him because he is the prince and angering an important person like that would have dire consequences? Or is it something about his personality that requires her to warn you like that?
Before you can commit to ruminating on it, Thianne opens a set of wooden doors at the top of the staircase, revealing the entrance to the magical laboratory behind it. It does succeed in distracting you, at least for a while.
The first thing that hits you is the distinct smell. It reminds you of the air just before a lighting strike, or the aftermath of a forest fire in the middle of summer. Acrid and powerful, alerting a certain part of your brain to danger.
“I already said it but I don’t trust you to have paid attention, so: Don’t go around touchin’ stuff. This is all very dangerous and, more importantly, very expensive,” Thianne says as you both step inside.
“Alright, alright, I got it,” you say as your eyes go wide, taking everything in.
You find yourself standing in a large circular room at the top of the tower, ceiling high and pointed. Exposed wooden beams hold up the roof, strange circular lights hanging from them like imitations of the moon and stars.
A raised platform divides the room into two layers. The one you’re standing on, the lower one, seems to be mainly for storage. Shelves encircle the entire room, filled with all sorts of odd objects, most of which you’ve never seen before. There are some cauldrons and potions ingredients - gnarled roots and bottled liquids, dried flowers and containers filled to the brim with fish eyes - as well as all manner of crystals, stones and metals. You spot brass tubes and pendulums, things that look like globes made of twisting metal rings, small round leather pouches with needles sticking out of them, and a lot of other nicknacks and baubles that make noise or move around on their own.
Atop the raised platform in the middle of the room are different workstations. Tables for crafting and alchemy and a seat with leather straps on it that is somewhat concerning. A few mages are going about their business, completely absorbed in their work. You don’t really know what they are doing.
“I can’t even imagine what half of these contraptions are used for,” you admit as you peer down into one of the glass tubes.
Thianne crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t expect me to explain it, I have neither the time nor the energy for that right now.”
[[“I wasn’t asking you to explain anything,” you respond and roll your eyes.|Chapter3.8A]]
[[“That’s fine,” you say. You didn’t really expect her to.|Chapter3.8B]]
[[“Oh… I mean, of course, you’re a busy woman,” you say, unable to hide your disappointment.|Chapter3.8C]]
[[“But maybe later you would have the time and energy?” you say with a hopeful grin.|Chapter3.8D]]
[[“Come one, Thianne. Please? I bet you love flexing your superior knowledge,” you say with only a hint of sarcasm.|Chapter3.9E]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne - 5>>\
Thianne snorts, almost disbelieving. “Why did you want to see this place anyway? It’s not really relevant for a knight.”
“The prince was just giving me a tour of the castle. I guess he thought this place is worth a look,” you say with a shrug.
The atmosphere has gotten a little tense, what with you neither being allowed to touch anything nor ask any questions. You take one more sweeping look around for good measure.
Just when you’re about to leave, an elderly person dressed in an unassuming brown cloak descends from the raised platform in the middle of the room, heading towards you and Thianne with purpose.
“Head Sorcerer,” Thianne grumbles in greeting as the person comes to a halt directly in front of you. Their eyes are completely hidden beneath a fringe of grey hair, though you imagine they are looking at you.
The Head Sorcerer bows slightly and you make sure to return the gesture.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young man?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young lady?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young person?” <<endif>>\
Thianne’s eyebrow twitches. “This is $playername, the prince’s new Champion.”
“Pleased to meet you, Head Sorcerer,” you say politely.
“Bah, only Thianne calls me that. My name is Birch,” they say with a chuckle. “Like the tree. I just wanted to let you know that you are always welcome here, no matter your magical talent. I’ve been trying for a while now to get more people interested in the experimental side of magic, but alas, the common mage is satisfied with being able to light a candle or heal a bruise, completely wasting their potential all the while.”
“I’m not sure if I have the intellectual capacity for much more than that,” you admit while dubiously eyeing the strange contraptions littering the room. “I wouldn’t even know where to start doing research of any kind.”
Birch shakes their head with a smile. “Not to worry, that’s what us elders are for. I’d show you the ropes, let you join in on my experiments for a start until you’re a bit more knowledgeable. We’d work something out, I’m sure.”
“You’re just lookin’ for an unpaid assistant,” Thianne says with a frown. “No wonder you’re not findin’ anyone who’s interested.”
Birch sighs dramatically. “So young yet so cynical already. It’s unbecoming, Thianne. Don’t mind her, $playername. I didn’t mean anything by it, just feel free to come visit this place anytime you want.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, undecided if you truly want to take them up on that offer. Still, it’s a nice option to have if there is ever anything magical you need to research.
<i>Maybe they could do a blood test, to figure out if…</i>
Thianne claps her hands together suddenly, jolting you out of your train of thought. “If that’s all, Head Sorcerer, I think we should head back. The prince is waitin’ for us, after all.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you say slowly, feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden. “It was nice meeting you, Birch.”
“Likewise,” they say with a radiant smile, giving you a little wave before heading back up the platform.
“They’re also someone to be careful of,” Thianne whispers to you before turning to leave.
[[Wondering whether Thianne is just paranoid in general, you follow her back down the stairs.|Chapter3.9]]Thianne remains silent for a moment as if surprised by your nonchalant response. before asking: “Why did you want to see this place anyway? It’s not really relevant for a knight.”
“The prince was just giving me a tour of the castle. I guess he thought this place is worth a look,” you say with a shrug.
The atmosphere has gotten a little awkward, what with you neither being allowed to touch anything nor encouraged to ask any questions. You take one more sweeping look around for good measure.
Just when you’re about to leave, an elderly person dressed in an unassuming brown cloak descends from the raised platform in the middle of the room, heading towards you and Thianne with purpose.
“Head Sorcerer,” Thianne grumbles in greeting as the person comes to a halt directly in front of you. Their eyes are completely hidden beneath a fringe of grey hair, though you imagine they are looking at you.
The Head Sorcerer bows slightly and you make sure to return the gesture.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young man?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young lady?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young person?” <<endif>>\
Thianne’s eyebrow twitches. “This is $playername, the prince’s new Champion.”
“Pleased to meet you, Head Sorcerer,” you say politely.
“Bah, only Thianne calls me that. My name is Birch,” they say with a chuckle. “Like the tree. I just wanted to let you know that you are always welcome here, no matter your magical talent. I’ve been trying for a while now to get more people interested in the experimental side of magic, but alas, the common mage is satisfied with being able to light a candle or heal a bruise, completely wasting their potential all the while.”
“I’m not sure if I have the intellectual capacity for much more than that,” you admit while dubiously eyeing the strange contraptions littering the room. “I wouldn’t even know where to start doing research of any kind.”
Birch shakes their head with a smile. “Not to worry, that’s what us elders are for. I’d show you the ropes, let you join in on my experiments for a start until you’re a bit more knowledgeable. We’d work something out, I’m sure.”
“You’re just lookin’ for an unpaid assistant,” Thianne says with a frown. “No wonder you’re not findin’ anyone who’s interested.”
Birch sighs dramatically. “So young yet so cynical already. It’s unbecoming, Thianne. Don’t mind her, $playername. I didn’t mean anything by it, just feel free to come visit this place anytime you want.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, undecided if you truly want to take them up on that offer. Still, it’s a nice option to have if there is ever anything magical you need to research.
<i>Maybe they could do a blood test, to figure out if…</i>
Thianne claps her hands together suddenly, jolting you out of your train of thought. “If that’s all, Head Sorcerer, I think we should head back. The prince is waitin’ for us, after all.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you say slowly, feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden. “It was nice meeting you, Birch.”
“Likewise,” they say with a radiant smile, giving you a little wave before heading back up the platform.
“They’re also someone to be careful of,” Thianne whispers to you before turning to leave.
[[Wondering whether Thianne is just paranoid in general, you follow her back down the stairs.|Chapter3.9]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne looks taken aback, her face softing a bit. "No need to sound so devestated. I just meant we don't have the time for that right now. I dunno, maybe... Maybe some other time." She immediately scowls at your hopeful expression. "No promises."
You secretly smile to yourself, thinking that Thianne isn't as cold as she appears. Accepting that you don't have much time right now, you take one last sweeping look around the room.
Just when you’re about to leave, an elderly person dressed in an unassuming brown cloak descends from the raised platform in the middle of the room, heading towards you and Thianne with purpose.
“Head Sorcerer,” Thianne grumbles in greeting as the person comes to a halt directly in front of you. Their eyes are completely hidden beneath a fringe of grey hair, though you imagine they are looking at you.
The Head Sorcerer bows slightly and you make sure to return the gesture.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young man?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young lady?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young person?” <<endif>>\
Thianne’s eyebrow twitches. “This is $playername, the prince’s new Champion.”
“Pleased to meet you, Head Sorcerer,” you say politely.
“Bah, only Thianne calls me that. My name is Birch,” they say with a chuckle. “Like the tree. I just wanted to let you know that you are always welcome here, no matter your magical talent. I’ve been trying for a while now to get more people interested in the experimental side of magic, but alas, the common mage is satisfied with being able to light a candle or heal a bruise, completely wasting their potential all the while.”
“I’m not sure if I have the intellectual capacity for much more than that,” you admit while dubiously eyeing the strange contraptions littering the room. “I wouldn’t even know where to start doing research of any kind.”
Birch shakes their head with a smile. “Not to worry, that’s what us elders are for. I’d show you the ropes, let you join in on my experiments for a start until you’re a bit more knowledgeable. We’d work something out, I’m sure.”
“You’re just lookin’ for an unpaid assistant,” Thianne says with a frown. “No wonder you’re not findin’ anyone who’s interested.”
Birch sighs dramatically. “So young yet so cynical already. It’s unbecoming, Thianne. Don’t mind her, $playername. I didn’t mean anything by it, just feel free to come visit this place anytime you want.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, undecided if you truly want to take them up on that offer. Still, it’s a nice option to have if there is ever anything magical you need to research.
<i>Maybe they could do a blood test, to figure out if…</i>
Thianne claps her hands together suddenly, jolting you out of your train of thought. “If that’s all, Head Sorcerer, I think we should head back. The prince is waitin’ for us, after all.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you say slowly, feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden. “It was nice meeting you, Birch.”
“Likewise,” they say with a radiant smile, giving you a little wave before heading back up the platform.
“They’re also someone to be careful of,” Thianne whispers to you before turning to leave.
[[Wondering whether Thianne is just paranoid in general, you follow her back down the stairs.|Chapter3.9]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5 >> <<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
Thianne groans loudly, though the annoyance seems to be played up somewhat. "I guess. Maybe, if there ever comes a day when I'm just bored to tears, I'd consider it."
Your grin widens. "You know, that's good enough for me." You're starting to think that Thianne really isn't as cold as she appears. Accepting that you don't have much time right now, you take one last sweeping look around the room.
Just when you’re about to leave, an elderly person dressed in an unassuming brown cloak descends from the raised platform in the middle of the room, heading towards you and Thianne with purpose.
“Head Sorcerer,” Thianne grumbles in greeting as the person comes to a halt directly in front of you. Their eyes are completely hidden beneath a fringe of grey hair, though you imagine they are looking at you.
The Head Sorcerer bows slightly and you make sure to return the gesture.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young man?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young lady?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young person?” <<endif>>\
Thianne’s eyebrow twitches. “This is $playername, the prince’s new Champion.”
“Pleased to meet you, Head Sorcerer,” you say politely.
“Bah, only Thianne calls me that. My name is Birch,” they say with a chuckle. “Like the tree. I just wanted to let you know that you are always welcome here, no matter your magical talent. I’ve been trying for a while now to get more people interested in the experimental side of magic, but alas, the common mage is satisfied with being able to light a candle or heal a bruise, completely wasting their potential all the while.”
“I’m not sure if I have the intellectual capacity for much more than that,” you admit while dubiously eyeing the strange contraptions littering the room. “I wouldn’t even know where to start doing research of any kind.”
Birch shakes their head with a smile. “Not to worry, that’s what us elders are for. I’d show you the ropes, let you join in on my experiments for a start until you’re a bit more knowledgeable. We’d work something out, I’m sure.”
“You’re just lookin’ for an unpaid assistant,” Thianne says with a frown. “No wonder you’re not findin’ anyone who’s interested.”
Birch sighs dramatically. “So young yet so cynical already. It’s unbecoming, Thianne. Don’t mind her, $playername. I didn’t mean anything by it, just feel free to come visit this place anytime you want.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, undecided if you truly want to take them up on that offer. Still, it’s a nice option to have if there is ever anything magical you need to research.
<i>Maybe they could do a blood test, to figure out if…</i>
Thianne claps her hands together suddenly, jolting you out of your train of thought. “If that’s all, Head Sorcerer, I think we should head back. The prince is waitin’ for us, after all.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you say slowly, feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden. “It was nice meeting you, Birch.”
“Likewise,” they say with a radiant smile, giving you a little wave before heading back up the platform.
“They’re also someone to be careful of,” Thianne whispers to you before turning to leave.
[[Wondering whether Thianne is just paranoid in general, you follow her back down the stairs.|Chapter3.9]]When you return to Prince Az’Lean, you find him balancing a stack of papers on his arms.
You raise an eyebrow at him. “What’s all that?”
“Paperwork,” he says with a grimace. “Written complaints by visiting nobles, to be exact. I have to get these to the council room, but that’s the next stop on our tour anyway. How was the magic lab?”
“Interesting and a little weird,” you say. “But that’s magic in a nutshell, I guess.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Thianne chimes in. “Does that mean I’m released now and can get back to my readin’?” She jostles the book still tucked under her arm and shoots Az’Lean a challenging glare.
He smiles brightly. “Yes, that would be all. Thank you kindly, Thianne.”
She doesn’t deign him worthy of a response, and doesn’t deign either of you worthy of a farewell. Without so much as another glance in your direction, she stalks off to the nearest table, practically throwing herself onto a chair as if she’d just run a lap around the entire castle. The book is thrown unceremoniously onto the table, hitting it with a loud thwack that startles a few nearby scholars.
You almost don’t want to ask but you can’t help being curious. “Is she having a bad day today or is she always like that?”
“That’s how she always is around me, at least,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “It would be kind of sad to find out that she’s actually a sweetheart to everyone else, but I don’t think that’s the case.”
The two of you begin walking, leaving the library behind and descending back down to the first floor. “Have you two known each other long?” you ask.
“A few years now,” Az’Lean says but doesn’t elaborate and you don’t feel like it is your place to inquire any further for now.
The two of you descend into amicable silence, only occasionally broken by Az’Lean to deliver information about the castle. As it turns out, there are quite a few hidden passages and secret rooms littered around, though you can’t possibly begin to memorise them all. One in particular does stick with you, however - a small reading nook hidden behind a tapestry depicting the night sky and a full moon.
Az’Lean leads you out of the southern wing and into the eastern wing at some point. You know that the main entrance as well as the banquet hall are located here. “This is where all the official business happens. Not only are the banquet hall and throne room located here, but also the council room and other spaces mainly occupied by the nobility, such as the music room and the tea pavillon.”
You’ve heard of the famed tea pavillon before - a glass dome filled with exotic plants and butterflies. You can’t really picture Az’Lean in such a place. “Do you spend a lot of time in this part of the castle?”
“To entertain guests, yes. Though I don’t spend much time here outside of my duties.”
Az’Lean leads you through sunlit hallways, passing by a set of enormous, gold-plated doors that you surmise lead to the throne room. “Father might be holding court right now, best not to disturb him,” he explains as soon as he notices the questioning look on your face.
He adjusts his grips on the stack of papers, stopping in front of the next door instead. It is strangely thin and unremarkable, painted beige to match the limestone surrounding it and missing a door handle.
“Could you open that for me?” Az’Lean asks, trying in vain to shift all of the documents onto one arm. “It should be unlocked.”
[[Just as you're about to do so, the door opens inward by itself, revealing a haughty-looking noblewoman behind it.|Chapter3.10]]<<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
Thianne barks out a humorless laugh. "You are right, I do enjoy spendin' time with people who relentlessly pester me with asinine questions." You can't quite tell whether she meant it to sound scathing or teasing.
The atmosphere has gotten a little tense, what with you neither being allowed to touch anything nor ask any questions. You take one more sweeping look around for good measure.
Just when you’re about to leave, an elderly person dressed in an unassuming brown cloak descends from the raised platform in the middle of the room, heading towards you and Thianne with purpose.
“Head Sorcerer,” Thianne grumbles in greeting as the person comes to a halt directly in front of you. Their eyes are completely hidden beneath a fringe of grey hair, though you imagine they are looking at you.
The Head Sorcerer bows slightly and you make sure to return the gesture.
<<if $gender == "boy">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young man?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "girl">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young lady?” <<endif>>\
<<if $gender == "child">> “You don’t usually bring along guests, Thianne. Who is this dashing young person?” <<endif>>\
Thianne’s eyebrow twitches. “This is $playername, the prince’s new Champion.”
“Pleased to meet you, Head Sorcerer,” you say politely.
“Bah, only Thianne calls me that. My name is Birch,” they say with a chuckle. “Like the tree. I just wanted to let you know that you are always welcome here, no matter your magical talent. I’ve been trying for a while now to get more people interested in the experimental side of magic, but alas, the common mage is satisfied with being able to light a candle or heal a bruise, completely wasting their potential all the while.”
“I’m not sure if I have the intellectual capacity for much more than that,” you admit while dubiously eyeing the strange contraptions littering the room. “I wouldn’t even know where to start doing research of any kind.”
Birch shakes their head with a smile. “Not to worry, that’s what us elders are for. I’d show you the ropes, let you join in on my experiments for a start until you’re a bit more knowledgeable. We’d work something out, I’m sure.”
“You’re just lookin’ for an unpaid assistant,” Thianne says with a frown. “No wonder you’re not findin’ anyone who’s interested.”
Birch sighs dramatically. “So young yet so cynical already. It’s unbecoming, Thianne. Don’t mind her, $playername. I didn’t mean anything by it, just feel free to come visit this place anytime you want.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, undecided if you truly want to take them up on that offer. Still, it’s a nice option to have if there is ever anything magical you need to research.
<i>Maybe they could do a blood test, to figure out if…</i>
Thianne claps her hands together suddenly, jolting you out of your train of thought. “If that’s all, Head Sorcerer, I think we should head back. The prince is waitin’ for us, after all.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you say slowly, feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden. “It was nice meeting you, Birch.”
“Likewise,” they say with a radiant smile, giving you a little wave before heading back up the platform.
“They’re also someone to be careful of,” Thianne whispers to you before turning to leave.
[[Wondering whether Thianne is just paranoid in general, you follow her back down the stairs.|Chapter3.9]]<<set $humanity to $humanity + 5>>\
<<set $Maeve to $Maeve - 10>>\
You grab your <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>> <<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>> <<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>> <<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> and put on a leather brigandine for good measure. This is a dangerous situation your putting yourself into and anything less would be foolish.
Once you’re reasonably geared up you leave your room, locking the door behind you. The corridor is quiet and empty. Aside from a few patches of moonlight shining through the windows it's completely dark.
You're glad for the midnight blue carpet that is still rolled out on the ground, softening your footsteps to near imperceptibility as you calmly make your way to the stairs leading down. The door to Az'Lean's room is closed but you can see a faint glow of light shining through the gap underneath - he must still be up.
You try not to think about him as you descend the stairs to the ground floor and then make your way to the courtyard leading out into the gardens. On your way there, you pass a few servants finishing up their work as well as some people sneaking into the kitchens for a late night snack.
“Going out for a late training session?” one of the guards asks as you pass them.
You nod confidently. “We must always be prepared for the worst, isn’t that right?”
The guard looks at you with something like admiration. “Well said, Champion. But be sure to get enough rest.”
No more words are exchanged and you continue on your way. Everything goes smoothly and you find yourself standing under the weeping willow in the centre of the gardens a few minutes before midnight. There's no sign of Lady Maeve yet.
The air is cool, but refreshingly so. Not a single cloud is in sight and the night sky is lit bright with stars and an almost full moon. It smells faintly of herbs and roses and the scent helps you to relax somewhat as you let your gaze wander around - waiting, searching. The more time passes, the more tense you get.
“Show yourself, Maeve,” you whisper into the darkness, impatience giving rise to a sharper tone in your voice.
Although the trunk of the willow is in your peripherals at all times, it comes as a surprise when you see Lady Maeve casually leaning against it as though she had just materialised right in front of you. You instinctively assume a fighting stance.
"You showed up," she says and tucks a wisp of flowy, pink hair behind her pointed ear. "I wasn't sure."
Her pitch black eyes take you in, lingering on your weapons. “And you came armed. Why?”
“Just a precaution,” you say.
“I arrived here with the intention to talk and answer your questions, but I can’t be sure your intentions are the same,” she answers, revealing her sharp teeth in a snarl. “Lay down your arms, $playername, or leave.”
[[Do as she says and lay down your weapon.|Chapter4.11AA]]
[[“No. I’m willing to talk, but I don’t trust you enough to do that.”|Chapter4.11AB]]
[[“Then I’ll leave, and you better not show yourself in the castle again.”|Chapter4.11AC]]
[[Threaten her. “I demand answers and I’ll get them one way or another.”|Chapter4.11AD]]You fasten a small dagger to the inside of your sleeve and hope this will be enough to at least defend yourself with should the worst happen. There will be guards not too far away, so you feel confident enough.
After a few calming, steadying breaths, you quietly leave your room and lock the door behind you. The corridor is quiet and empty. Aside from a few patches of moonlight shining through the windows it's completely dark.
You're glad for the midnight blue carpet that is still rolled out on the ground, softening your footsteps to near imperceptibility as you calmly make your way to the stairs leading down. The door to Az'Lean's room is closed but you can see a faint glow of light shining through the gap underneath - he must still be up.
You try not to think about him as you descend the stairs to the ground floor and then make your way to the courtyard leading out into the gardens. On your way there, you pass a few servants finishing up their work as well as some people sneaking into the kitchens for a late night snack. The guards don't seem to be concerned about them - or you for that matter.
Everything goes smoothly and you find yourself standing under the weeping willow in the centre of the gardens a few minutes before midnight. There's no sign of Lady Maeve yet.
The air is cool, but refreshingly so. Not a single cloud is in sight and the night sky is lit bright with stars and an almost full moon. It smells faintly of herbs and roses and the scent helps you to relax somewhat as you let your gaze wander around - waiting, searching.
Although the trunk of the willow is in your peripherals at all times, it comes as a surprise when you see Lady Maeve casually leaning against it as though she had just materialised right in front of you.
"You showed up," she says and tucks a wisp of flowy, pink hair behind her pointed ear. "I wasn't sure."
"I wasn't sure myself," you admit. "But here I am and I can say that... you were telling the truth, about what I am, but that doesn't mean I believe everything you said. Or are going to say."
You feel like it's important to establish that.
"I guess that's as much as I can expect, though I do promise to not utter a single lie," she says and smiles sweetly before lowering herself to the ground, crossing her legs and resting her head against the willow's trunk.
She gestures for you to join her. "I expect we'll be talking a while, so feel free to sit down."
With some reluctance you comply and sit down - a fair distance away from her, however. You're not sure how this is going to go.
Maeve's pitch black eyes regard you with amusement. "For now, I'm just here to answer any questions you might have. Anything else comes after - alright? So you don't need to be so tense."
You frown. "What if someone sees you?"
She grins broadly, revealing her sharp teeth. "Excellent first question. Then I'll do this."
You don't so much as blink and she's gone, just like an illusion. A few seconds pass and she returns, in exactly the same position as she had just been in.
"How did you do that? Can you turn invisible?" you ask in utter bafflement.
"No, this isn't a mere illusion. A dryad can move freely between the trees she's bonded to," Maeve explains and lays a hand against one of the willow's roots. "This one was taken from our grove as a sapling, so I have access to this place."
This only creates more questions for you. "Only you, or other dryads as well? And how far can you go?"
"Me and my sisters, though they wouldn't want to come here. I can go as far as the roots spread underground, so a few paces in every direction," Maeve explains patiently. "But enough about me. I'm sure you have questions about yourself."
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|Chapter4.11BA]]
[[“I assume there is some kind of fae magic I could do.“|Chapter4.11BB]]
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.11BC]]
[[“Actually, I don't care about that. I'd rather ask about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.11BD]]<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
You don’t think Lady Maeve would appreciate it if you showed up armed, and besides - you trust her not to attack you. If that were her goal, she could have easily done so last time, when you were inebriated and confused. No, you think you’ll be safe.
Your goal is to learn from her what you can and possibly even establish friendly relations. The fact that she’s fae shouldn’t matter, just as it shouldn’t matter that you are technically fae. Maybe having someone with an outside perspective to discuss things with could be useful in the long run - maybe a war can yet still be averted if there were more communication and understanding between humans and fae.
It is with a faint sense of hope that you leave your room. The corridor is quiet and empty. Aside from a few patches of moonlight shining through the windows it's completely dark.
You're glad for the midnight blue carpet that is still rolled out on the ground, softening your footsteps to near imperceptibility as you calmly make your way to the stairs leading down. The door to Az'Lean's room is closed but you can see a faint glow of light shining through the gap underneath - he must still be up.
You try not to think about him as you descend the stairs to the ground floor and then make your way to the courtyard leading out into the gardens. On your way there, you pass a few servants finishing up their work as well as some people sneaking into the kitchens for a late night snack. The guards don't seem to be concerned about them - or you for that matter.
Everything goes smoothly and you find yourself standing under the weeping willow in the centre of the gardens a few minutes before midnight. There's no sign of Lady Maeve yet.
"Lady Maeve?" you whisper into the quiet - no answer.
The air is cool, but refreshingly so. Not a single cloud is in sight and the night sky is lit bright with stars and an almost full moon. It smells faintly of herbs and roses and the scent helps you to relax somewhat as you let your gaze wander around - waiting, searching.
Although the trunk of the willow is in your peripherals at all times, it comes as a surprise when you see Lady Maeve casually leaning against it as though she had just materialised right in front of you.
"You showed up," she says and tucks a wisp of flowy, pink hair behind her pointed ear. "I wasn't sure."
“I was looking forward to seeing you again,” you admit and watch in delight as Maeve breaks out into a huge grin.
“Me too! I’ve been waiting for this all week,” she says and smiles sweetly before lowering herself to the ground, crossing her legs and resting her head against the willow's trunk.
She gestures for you to join her. "I expect we'll be talking a while, so feel free to sit down."
You sit down right across from her, marvelling at the way she towers over you even when you both are seated.
Maeve's pitch black eyes regard you with amusement. "For now, I'm just here to answer any questions you might have. Anything else comes after - alright?"
You nod, but something occurs to you. "What if someone sees you?"
She grins broadly, revealing her sharp teeth. "Excellent first question. Then I'll do this."
You don't so much as blink and she's gone, just like an illusion. A few seconds pass and she returns, in exactly the same position as she had just been in.
"How did you do that? Can you turn invisible?" you ask in utter bafflement.
"No, this isn't a mere illusion. A dryad can move freely between the trees she's bonded to," Maeve explains and lays a hand against one of the willow's roots. "This one was taken from our grove as a sapling, so I have access to this place."
This only creates more questions for you. "Only you, or other dryads as well? And how far can you go?"
"Me and my sisters, though they wouldn't want to come here. I can go as far as the roots spread underground, so a few paces in every direction," Maeve explains patiently. "But enough about me. I'm sure you have questions about yourself."
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|Chapter4.11BA]]
[[“I assume there is some kind of fae magic I could do.“|Chapter4.11BB]]
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.11BC]]It might be necessary to compromise with her somewhat. You don’t feel good about it, but if this is the only chance to get some much needed information out of her, then so be it. After taking a few more steps backwards, you lay down your <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>> <<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>> <<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>> <<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> on the ground. Maeve watches your every move with suspicion, but seems satisfied once you’re no longer an imminent threat.
Her gaze softens as she slowly takes a seat beneath the willow. “Good. It’s not my intention to fight, $playername. I hope you’ll believe me.”
You don’t, not really, but nod to go along with her. “So you’ll answer my questions?”
Maeve inclines her head. “Gladly. I’m sure you have questions about what you are - about changelings. What is it you wish to know about?”
You hesitantly sit down, a safe distance away from her, weapons still within your reach.
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|Chapter4.11BA]]
[[“I assume there is some kind of fae magic I could do.“|Chapter4.11BB]]
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.11BC]]
[[“Actually, I don't care about that. I'd rather ask about the fae in general. And your motives.“|Chapter4.11BD]]Lady Maeve heaves a dramatic sigh and leans against the willow's trunk. "Then I'm sorry to say but I don't trust you enough to share any kind of information with you."
You realise quickly that there is too much animosity between you to ever reach a compromise and tighten your grip. "I'm not foolish enough to meet with you while being defenseless."
She slowly closes her eyes and you could have sworn she was leaning even farther into the tree behind her, as if melting into it.
"I'm not foolish enough to meet with you while you're armed," Lady Maeve says with quiet resignation. "There's no point to this if you don't trust me - you won't be able to trust my information either, and there's no consensus that can be reached from that."
It seems she has reached the same conclusion as you. Even as you watch her every movement with rapt attention, ready to react at a moment's notice, you can't quite comprehend what you're seeing until she is suddenly gone - you're left staring at the tree.
You wait a few seconds, eyeing the willow suspiciously, before coming to the conclusion that she's left. The gardens are eerily quiet and you are utterly alone. Lady Maeve probably won't return here any time soon.
Although it had been your objective to gather information, you're not upset over how this turned out. Associating with her might have just led to unforseen dangers. It is better that she's gone - safer. You'll need to keep your guard up in case she tries to contact you again or does something else, but you get the feeling that her resignation wasn't played up.
Maybe Maeve has given up on recruiting you. It should fill you with relief, but you can't help the feeling that you're no closer to understanding the bigger picture. Why were you placed in the Grahm family? What are the fae planning?
You'll have to get your answers some other way, or be content with ignorance. For now though, there's no reason to stay out here. Although the night air isn't cold, you feel something like a chill.
[[It has really only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]Lady Maeve leans back against the willow's trunk and heaves a dramatic sigh. "The only reason I came here was to talk to you. If that's off the table, you won't have to worry about seeing me here again. This development is unfortunate, but not unexpected."
You eye her warily. "So you'll leave?"
"Yes. There's no point to this," she says with quiet resignation and leans back even further, melting into the tree behind her.
It seems she has reached the same conclusion as you. Even as you watch her every movement with rapt attention, ready to react at a moment's notice, you can't quite comprehend what you're seeing until she is suddenly gone - you're left staring at a tree.
You wait a few seconds, eyeing the willow suspiciously, before coming to the conclusion that she's left. The gardens are eerily quiet and you are utterly alone. Lady Maeve probably won't return here any time soon.
Although it had been your objective to gather information, you're not upset over how this turned out. Associating with her might just have led to unforseen dangers. It is better that she's gone - safer. You'll need to keep your guard up in case she tries to contact you again or does something else, but you get the feeling that her resignation wasn't played up.
Maybe Maeve has given up on recruiting you. It should fill you with relief, but you can't help the feeling that you're no closer to understanding the bigger picture. Why were you placed in the Grahm family? What are the fae planning?
You'll have to get your answers some other way, or be content with ignorance. For now though, there's no reason to stay out here. Although the night air isn't cold, you feel something like a chill.
[[It has only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]<<set $humanity to $humanity + 10>>\
<<set $Maeve to 0>>\
Lady Maeve laughs coldly. "I didn't think you had the nerve. There is no point in fighting, would-be-human. Though I will remember this slight against me."
Her pitch black eyes narrow into slits and she bares her teeth. You suddenly realise how tall she is as she steps closer, towering over you. Even as a chill runs down your spine you ready yourself to defend against an incoming attack, but as she takes another step forward, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight, she suddenly disappears right in front of you.
You are left staring at the willow. Warily, you survey your surroundings, remaining tense for a few more minutes. The gardens are eerily quiet and you come to the conclusion that she left after that attempt at intimidation.
"We'll have to get rid of the willow," you whisper to no one as you circle it a few times, making sure that you're alone. "I also might have to warn Az'Lean about her..."
You aren't sure how to do that without disclosing the reason as to why she was here in the first place, though that is a problem for another time. In any case, you figure Maeve has given up on recruiting you, but that doesn't mean she won't show herself again.
In the end, it might not have been a bad idea to mistrust her - who knows what associating with her could have led to, but you can't help the feeling that you're no closer to understanding the bigger picture. Why were you placed in the Grahm family? What are the fae planning?
You'll have to get your answers some other way, or be content with ignorance. For now though, there's no reason to stay out here. Although the night air isn't cold, you feel something like a chill.
[[It has really only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]“Yes, changelings and most other fae are conceived and born in much the same way as humans. There are a few differences though. Changelings can only conceive when they are untransformed, and the pregnant partner shouldn’t transform until after the child is born to prevent any possible complications.”
“So I definitely have a pair of biological parents and they gave me away?” You try to picture what your biological parents might look like but can’t quite manage it. It doesn’t really feel like it matters, considering they immediately got rid of you after your birth. There’s no helping the bitterness rising in your chest.
Lady Maeve smiles sadly. “Not necessarily. They might have died or you might have been taken from them, I’m not in the know about these things. But you are correct, oftentimes changeling parents will leave their child with a different family.”
Your stomach is twisting itself into knots and you’re forced to take a deep breath. “But why?”
“Maybe it is simply in their nature. Us dryads, for instance, grow up entirely without parents.” She doesn’t sound at all bothered about it and you realise that the culture between humans and fae might be much more fundamentally different than you expected. Talking to Maeve doesn’t feel like there’s no common ground between you, but you figure that’s exactly why she was the one they sent to talk to you.
“Can changelings have children with other kinds of fae or even humans?” you ask next.
Lady Maeve nods. “They can, yes, but the child will always be a changeling. There’s no such thing as a half-changeling.”
You wonder whether this will ever be a concern for you, but it is definitely something you should be aware of - no matter where your life is headed.
“I see. Thank you for your explanation.”
Lady Maeve smiles sweetly, playing with a strand of her hair. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I assume there is some kind of fae magic I could do.“|Chapter4.12BAA]]
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.12BAB]]
[[“That's all I wanted to know about changelings. I'd rather ask about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Well, the biggest thing is obviously your ability to transform into someone else. I don’t know if you’ve tried it yet, but there are no real limitations as to who or what you can become. You could turn into me, or the prince. You could turn into a person you made up. The only stipulation is that it is a humanoid being. So turning into a bird wouldn’t be possible.”
“I haven’t tried that. I’m not sure if I want to.” The thought of just assuming someone else’s identity like that makes you more than a little uncomfortable. Using their appearance, their <i>body</i> like that…
Maeve looks at you for a while as if trying to figure something out. Whatever it is she’s seeing, it makes her gaze turn soft. “I understand. But if you are ever in danger or need to hide, don’t forget you can simply turn into someone else. Your clothes don’t change though, so keep that in mind.”
As you think about a possible situation where you might need to do that, your gaze falls onto the weeping willow. “If I turned into a dryad, would I be bound to a set of trees as well?”
“No. You’d only look like a dryad, you’d still be a changeling,” Maeve says carefully. She lays a hand on the willow’s root, gently. “You don’t gain any magical aspects of that being, only physical ones.”
You figure that weakness to metals is considered a magical attribute and not a physical one, so changing into a human didn’t get rid of it. This all seems rather complex and you'd hate having to figure everything out on your own. “I suppose that’s good to know. Is there anything else I can do?”
Lady Maeve excitedly claps her hands together. “Of course. You can master any kind of fae magic you’d like, provided you had enough training. Like this, for example.”
You watch intently as she closes her eyes. Her lips part and she begins singing, a soft melody in a language you don’t understand. It must be a lullaby, because you’re starting…to feel…sleepy…
Just as your eye lids begin to feel heavy, Maeve’s singing stops and you’re wide awake once more. Disgruntled and somewhat disturbed by the apparent power of sleep Maeve holds, you viciously rub your face to chase the last of it off.
She grins at you in pure delight. “That was fae magic, not dryad magic, so you could learn it as well. If we continue to meet, I could teach you.”
You heave a sigh, suspicion still seated deep in your heart. “We’ll see.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|Chapter4.12BBA]]
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.12BBB]]
[[“I would like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]Lady Maeve taps her chin in thought for a moment. “Changelings are a bit like nomads. They rarely settle in one place for long, always on the move, always finding something else to do - always changing, really. So there aren’t any real changeling settlements.”
“I see.” A part of you is disappointed at that revelation. It feels like there’s nothing solid to grasp on to, just a wavering reflection on choppy waters.
“They live amongst other types of fae, sometimes disguised, sometimes openly, or they infiltrate human society. It used to be a lot more common way back when, but ever since tensions have started rising, less and less changelings stay among humans for long.”
You can’t help but survey your surroundings, wondering. “Could someone in the castle be a changeling, other than me?”
“Naturally. Though changelings aren’t as common as other types of fae. They tend to not have very many children. Their…” she scrunches up her face, searching for the right words, “you called it culture? The way they live is very individualistic and free. Not really bound to anything, but also not really part of anything.” A hint of melancholy seeps into her tone.
“Some people might enjoy such a life.” You think of Vynn, wanting nothing more than to be free of expectations, to be who they want to be.
Maeve’s black eyes bore into you. “But not you?”
You think of the kingdom, of your duty, of everything you’ve known. You look at Maeve and see a representative of everything you don’t know. You settle on: “I can’t say yet.”
She nods. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|Chapter4.12BCA]]
[[“I assume there is some kind of fae magic I could do.“|Chapter4.12BCB]]
[[“I would like to know more about fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]Maeve’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. “So you’re only interested in learning about things that give you a strategic advantage? Or do you still not see yourself as a changeling? As a fae?”
A shiver runs down your spine and you get the sense that no matter how you answer at this point, the damage is already done. Lady Maeve is, maybe not angry, but at the very least disgruntled by your words. You don’t think you can back-paddle at this point - that would only make it worse.
You can feel the thickening tension - already a part of your mind is busy with planning how to best defend yourself should things go south.
[[This meeting is a bust - get up and leave.|Chapter4.12BDA]]
[[“You’re right. I only care about information that could benefit the safety of the kingdom.”|Chapter4.12BDB]]
[[“I want to learn more about the fae in general. Are you going to answer my questions or not?”|Chapter4.12BDC]]“Well, the biggest thing is obviously your ability to transform into someone else. I don’t know if you’ve tried it yet, but there are no real limitations as to who or what you can become. You could turn into me, or the prince. You could turn into a person you made up. The only stipulation is that it is a humanoid being. So turning into a bird wouldn’t be possible.”
“I haven’t tried that. I’m not sure if I want to.” The thought of just assuming someone else’s identity like that makes you more than a little uncomfortable. Using their appearance, their <i>body</i> like that…
Maeve looks at you for a while as if trying to figure something out. Whatever it is she’s seeing, it makes her gaze turn soft. “I understand. But if you are ever in danger or need to hide, don’t forget you can simply turn into someone else. Your clothes don’t change though, so keep that in mind.”
As you think about a possible situation where you might need to do that, your gaze falls onto the weeping willow. “If I turned into a dryad, would I be bound to a set of trees as well?”
“No. You’d only look like a dryad, you’d still be a changeling,” Maeve says carefully. She lays a hand on the willow’s root, gently. “You don’t gain any magical aspects of that being, only physical ones.”
You figure that weakness to metals is considered a magical attribute and not a physical one, so changing into a human didn’t get rid of it. This all seems rather complex and you'd hate having to figure everything out on your own. “I suppose that’s good to know. Is there anything else I can do?”
Lady Maeve excitedly claps her hands together. “Of course. You can master any kind of fae magic you’d like, provided you had enough training. Like this, for example.”
You watch intently as she closes her eyes. Her lips part and she begins singing, a soft melody in a language you don’t understand. It must be a lullaby, because you’re starting…to feel…sleepy…
Just as your eye lids begin to feel heavy, Maeve’s singing stops and you’re wide awake once more. Disgruntled and somewhat disturbed by the apparent power of sleep Maeve holds, you viciously rub your face to chase the last of it off.
She grins at you in pure delight. “That was fae magic, not dryad magic, so you could learn it as well. If we continue to meet, I could teach you.”
You heave a sigh, suspicion still seated deep in your heart. “We’ll see.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.13BA1]]
[[“I'd like to know more about fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]Lady Maeve taps her chin in thought for a moment. “Changelings are a bit like nomads. They rarely settle in one place for long, always on the move, always finding something else to do - always changing, really. So there aren’t any real changeling settlements.”
“I see.” A part of you is disappointed at that revelation. It feels like there’s nothing solid to grasp on to, just a wavering reflection on choppy waters.
“They live amongst other types of fae, sometimes disguised, sometimes openly, or they infiltrate human society. It used to be a lot more common way back when, but ever since tensions have started rising, less and less changelings stay among humans for long.”
You can’t help but survey your surroundings, wondering. “Could someone in the castle be a changeling, other than me?”
“Naturally. Though changelings aren’t as common as other types of fae. They tend to not have very many children. Their…” she scrunches up her face, searching for the right words, “you called it culture? The way they live is very individualistic and free. Not really bound to anything, but also not really part of anything.” A hint of melancholy seeps into her tone.
“Some people might enjoy such a life.” You think of Vynn, wanting nothing more than to be free of expectations, to be who they want to be.
Maeve’s black eyes bore into you. “But not you?”
You think of the kingdom, of your duty, of everything you’ve known. You look at Maeve and see a representative of everything you don’t know. You settle on: “I can’t say yet.”
She nods. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I assume there's some kind of fae magic I can do.“|Chapter4.13BA2]]
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Yes, changelings and most other fae are conceived and born in much the same way as humans. There are a few differences though. Changelings can only conceive when they are untransformed, and the pregnant partner shouldn’t transform until after the child is born to prevent any possible complications.”
“So I definitely have a pair of biological parents and they gave me away?” You try to picture what your biological parents might look like but can’t quite manage it. It doesn’t really feel like it matters, considering they immediately got rid of you after your birth. There’s no helping the bitterness rising in your chest.
Lady Maeve smiles sadly. “Not necessarily. They might have died or you might have been taken from them, I’m not in the know about these things. But you are correct, oftentimes changeling parents will leave their child with a different family.”
Your stomach is twisting itself into knots and you’re forced to take a deep breath. “But why?”
“Maybe it is simply in their nature. Us dryads, for instance, grow up entirely without parents.” She doesn’t sound at all bothered about it and you realise that the culture between humans and fae might be much more fundamentally different than you expected. Talking to Maeve doesn’t feel like there’s no common ground between you, but you figure that’s exactly why she was the one they sent to talk to you.
“Can changelings have children with other kinds of fae or even humans?” you ask next.
Lady Maeve nods. “They can, yes, but the child will always be a changeling. There’s no such thing as a half-changeling.”
You wonder whether this will ever be a concern for you, but it is definitely something you should be aware of - no matter where your life is headed.
“I see. Thank you for your explanation.”
Lady Maeve smiles sweetly, playing with a strand of her hair. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“Do changelings have a culture? Do all of them live amongst humans or do they have their own places to live?“|Chapter4.13BB1]]
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]Lady Maeve taps her chin in thought for a moment. “Changelings are a bit like nomads. They rarely settle in one place for long, always on the move, always finding something else to do - always changing, really. So there aren’t any real changeling settlements.”
“I see.” A part of you is disappointed at that revelation. It feels like there’s nothing solid to grasp on to, just a wavering reflection on choppy waters.
“They live amongst other types of fae, sometimes disguised, sometimes openly, or they infiltrate human society. It used to be a lot more common way back when, but ever since tensions have started rising, less and less changelings stay among humans for long.”
You can’t help but survey your surroundings, wondering. “Could someone in the castle be a changeling, other than me?”
“Naturally. Though changelings aren’t as common as other types of fae. They tend to not have very many children. Their…” she scrunches up her face, searching for the right words, “you called it culture? The way they live is very individualistic and free. Not really bound to anything, but also not really part of anything.” A hint of melancholy seeps into her tone.
“Some people might enjoy such a life.” You think of Vynn, wanting nothing more than to be free of expectations, to be who they want to be.
Maeve’s black eyes bore into you. “But not you?”
You think of the kingdom, of your duty, of everything you’ve known. You look at Maeve and see a representative of everything you don’t know. You settle on: “I can’t say yet.”
She nods. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|hapter4.13BB2]]
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Yes, changelings and most other fae are conceived and born in much the same way as humans. There are a few differences though. Changelings can only conceive when they are untransformed, and the pregnant partner shouldn’t transform until after the child is born to prevent any possible complications.”
“So I definitely have a pair of biological parents and they gave me away?” You try to picture what your biological parents might look like but can’t quite manage it. It doesn’t really feel like it matters, considering they immediately got rid of you after your birth. There’s no helping the bitterness rising in your chest.
Lady Maeve smiles sadly. “Not necessarily. They might have died or you might have been taken from them, I’m not in the know about these things. But you are correct, oftentimes changeling parents will leave their child with a different family.”
Your stomach is twisting itself into knots and you’re forced to take a deep breath. “But why?”
“Maybe it is simply in their nature. Us dryads, for instance, grow up entirely without parents.” She doesn’t sound at all bothered about it and you realise that the culture between humans and fae might be much more fundamentally different than you expected. Talking to Maeve doesn’t feel like there’s no common ground between you, but you figure that’s exactly why she was the one they sent to talk to you.
“Can changelings have children with other kinds of fae or even humans?” you ask next.
Lady Maeve nods. “They can, yes, but the child will always be a changeling. There’s no such thing as a half-changeling.”
You wonder whether this will ever be a concern for you, but it is definitely something you should be aware of - no matter where your life is headed.
“I see. Thank you for your explanation.”
Lady Maeve smiles sweetly, playing with a strand of her hair. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I assume there is some kind of fae magic I could do.“|Chapter4.13BC1]]
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Well, the biggest thing is obviously your ability to transform into someone else. I don’t know if you’ve tried it yet, but there are no real limitations as to who or what you can become. You could turn into me, or the prince. You could turn into a person you made up. The only stipulation is that it is a humanoid being. So turning into a bird wouldn’t be possible.”
“I haven’t tried that. I’m not sure if I want to.” The thought of just assuming someone else’s identity like that makes you more than a little uncomfortable. Using their appearance, their <i>body</i> like that…
Maeve looks at you for a while as if trying to figure something out. Whatever it is she’s seeing, it makes her gaze turn soft. “I understand. But if you are ever in danger or need to hide, don’t forget you can simply turn into someone else. Your clothes don’t change though, so keep that in mind.”
As you think about a possible situation where you might need to do that, your gaze falls onto the weeping willow. “If I turned into a dryad, would I be bound to a set of trees as well?”
“No. You’d only look like a dryad, you’d still be a changeling,” Maeve says carefully. She lays a hand on the willow’s root, gently. “You don’t gain any magical aspects of that being, only physical ones.”
You figure that weakness to metals is considered a magical attribute and not a physical one, so changing into a human didn’t get rid of it. This all seems rather complex and you'd hate having to figure everything out on your own. “I suppose that’s good to know. Is there anything else I can do?”
Lady Maeve excitedly claps her hands together. “Of course. You can master any kind of fae magic you’d like, provided you had enough training. Like this, for example.”
You watch intently as she closes her eyes. Her lips part and she begins singing, a soft melody in a language you don’t understand. It must be a lullaby, because you’re starting…to feel…sleepy…
Just as your eye lids begin to feel heavy, Maeve’s singing stops and you’re wide awake once more. Disgruntled and somewhat disturbed by the apparent power of sleep Maeve holds, you viciously rub your face to chase the last of it off.
She grins at you in pure delight. “That was fae magic, not dryad magic, so you could learn it as well. If we continue to meet, I could teach you.”
You heave a sigh, suspicion still seated deep in your heart. “We’ll see.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
[[“How are changelings...born? Do they have two parents, like humans?“|Chapter4.13BC2]]
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]There's no point to any of this. The two of you clearly don't trust each other, and so how can there be any fruitful conversation here? You came because you had questions - pressing questions that burn along your insides, wanting desperately to be voiced - but this might not be the best way to go about it.
Too dangerous, too close to conspiring with an enemy of the kingdom. Maybe you should stop while you still can.
"I think it was a mistake to come here. I should leave," you say carefully, every muscle poised to react at a moment's notice.
Lady Maeve sighs loudly, almost theatrically, but she doesn't at all seem surprised. "It did occur to me that things might go this way. It's a shame, $playername. No need to be so tense, I truly do not mean you any harm."
It doesn't sound like deceit, but you remain careful as you slowly get to your feet. Maeve doesn't so much as move a muscle, remaining firmly seated.
"Is there even a slight chance that you might change your mind and would be willing to meet up at a later date?" she asks half-heartedly.
[[“No. And if I see you here again, I'll not hesitate to call the guards.“|Chapter4.13BDAA]]
[[“I'm sorry, but no. There's no point to this.“|Chapter4.13BDAB]]
[[“Maybe. That's the best I can give.“|Chapter4.13BDAC]]<<set $humanity to $humanity + 10>>\
<<set $Maeve to 0>>\
You realise immediately that this was the wrong thing to say.
"The saftey of the kingdom!" Lady Maeve is on her feet in an instant, towering above you. "It is not the kingdom that is in peril, Champion. You know nothing and only wish to be validated in your assumptions. I see now there is no point to this, humanity has already seeped too far into your core."
Before you get the chance to do anything - attack, run away, try to reason with her - Lady Maeve simply flickers out of existence, leaving nothing behind but a faint smell of honey.
You get to your feet, slipping into a fighting stance, but she is truly gone and you are left alone in the castle gardens.
Despite all that, you have to agree with her. There was never any point to this. Although you had come here to get answers for these questions desperately rattling around inside your head, how could you ever trust any of her answers not to be an attempt to manipulate you?
She was right that you are a changeling, but that doesn't mean you have to listen to her. It's a good thing to end this meeting, it was never that good of an idea. Too dangerous, too close to conspiring with an enemy of the kingdom.
Although you missed out on learning anything that could benefit you, chasing Maeve off might be the best outcome for the kingdom's safety in the long run. You have a feeling she won't be back any time soon.
[[It has only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve - 5>>\
Maeve sighs dramatically. "Fine, I suppose if that's what you want. Only good things can come from more knowledge. What is it you want to know?"
You can tell Maeve is clearly disappointed with the way this conversation has gone so far, so you might have to be careful in regards to the information she gives you. It would be difficult to tell whether she's lying or not, and you can't assume she is giving you this information entirely in good faith.
With that in mind, you are curious about a few things.
[[“Do the fae have any kind of hierarchy? How are they organised?“|Chapter4.15A]]
[[“What can you tell me about the history of the fae and the conflict with humans?“|Chapter4.15B]]Lady Maeve taps her chin in thought for a moment. “Changelings are a bit like nomads. They rarely settle in one place for long, always on the move, always finding something else to do - always changing, really. So there aren’t any real changeling settlements.”
“I see.” A part of you is disappointed at that revelation. It feels like there’s nothing solid to grasp on to, just a wavering reflection on choppy waters.
“They live amongst other types of fae, sometimes disguised, sometimes openly, or they infiltrate human society. It used to be a lot more common way back when, but ever since tensions have started rising, less and less changelings stay among humans for long.”
You can’t help but survey your surroundings, wondering. “Could someone in the castle be a changeling, other than me?”
“Naturally. Though changelings aren’t as common as other types of fae. They tend to not have very many children. Their…” she scrunches up her face, searching for the right words, “you called it culture? The way they live is very individualistic and free. Not really bound to anything, but also not really part of anything.” A hint of melancholy seeps into her tone.
“Some people might enjoy such a life.” You think of Vynn, wanting nothing more than to be free of expectations, to be who they want to be.
Maeve’s black eyes bore into you. “But not you?”
You think of the kingdom, of your duty, of everything you’ve known. You look at Maeve and see a representative of everything you don’t know. You settle on: “I can’t say yet.”
She nods. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Well, the biggest thing is obviously your ability to transform into someone else. I don’t know if you’ve tried it yet, but there are no real limitations as to who or what you can become. You could turn into me, or the prince. You could turn into a person you made up. The only stipulation is that it is a humanoid being. So turning into a bird wouldn’t be possible.”
“I haven’t tried that. I’m not sure if I want to.” The thought of just assuming someone else’s identity like that makes you more than a little uncomfortable. Using their appearance, their <i>body</i> like that…
Maeve looks at you for a while as if trying to figure something out. Whatever it is she’s seeing, it makes her gaze turn soft. “I understand. But if you are ever in danger or need to hide, don’t forget you can simply turn into someone else. Your clothes don’t change though, so keep that in mind.”
As you think about a possible situation where you might need to do that, your gaze falls into the weeping willow. “If I turned into a dryad, would I be bound to a set of trees as well?”
“No. You’d only look like a dryad, you’d still be a changeling,” Maeve says carefully. She lays a hand on the willow’s root, gently. “You don’t gain any magical aspects of that being, only physical ones.”
You figure that weakness to metals is considered a magical attribute and not a physical one, so changing into a human didn’t get rid of it. This all seems rather complex and you'd hate having to figure everything out on your own. “I suppose that’s good to know. Is there anything else I can do?”
Lady Maeve excitedly claps her hands together. “Of course. You can master any kind of fae magic you’d like, provided you had enough training. Like this, for example.”
You watch intently as she closes her eyes. Her lips part and she begins singing, a soft melody in a language you don’t understand. It must be a lullaby, because you’re starting…to feel…sleepy…
Just as your eye lids begin to feel heavy, Maeve’s singing stops and you’re wide awake once more. Disgruntled and somewhat disturbed by the apparent power of sleep Maeve holds, you viciously rub your face to chase the last of it off.
She grins at you in pure delight. “That was fae magic, not dryad magic, so you could learn it as well. If we continue to meet, I could teach you.”
You heave a sigh, suspicion still seated deep in your heart. “We’ll see.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]Lady Maeve taps her chin in thought for a moment. “Changelings are a bit like nomads. They rarely settle in one place for long, always on the move, always finding something else to do - always changing, really. So there aren’t any real changeling settlements.”
“I see.” A part of you is disappointed at that revelation. It feels like there’s nothing solid to grasp on to, just a wavering reflection on choppy waters.
“They live amongst other types of fae, sometimes disguised, sometimes openly, or they infiltrate human society. It used to be a lot more common way back when, but ever since tensions have started rising, less and less changelings stay among humans for long.”
You can’t help but survey your surroundings, wondering. “Could someone in the castle be a changeling, other than me?”
“Naturally. Though changelings aren’t as common as other types of fae. They tend to not have very many children. Their…” she scrunches up her face, searching for the right words, “you called it culture? The way they live is very individualistic and free. Not really bound to anything, but also not really part of anything.” A hint of melancholy seeps into her tone.
“Some people might enjoy such a life.” You think of Vynn, wanting nothing more than to be free of expectations, to be who they want to be.
Maeve’s black eyes bore into you. “But not you?”
You think of the kingdom, of your duty, of everything you’ve known. You look at Maeve and see a representative of everything you don’t know. You settle on: “I can’t say yet.”
She nods. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Well, the biggest thing is obviously your ability to transform into someone else. I don’t know if you’ve tried it yet, but there are no real limitations as to who or what you can become. You could turn into me, or the prince. You could turn into a person you made up. The only stipulation is that it is a humanoid being. So turning into a bird wouldn’t be possible.”
“I haven’t tried that. I’m not sure if I want to.” The thought of just assuming someone else’s identity like that makes you more than a little uncomfortable. Using their appearance, their <i>body</i> like that…
Maeve looks at you for a while as if trying to figure something out. Whatever it is she’s seeing, it makes her gaze turn soft. “I understand. But if you are ever in danger or need to hide, don’t forget you can simply turn into someone else. Your clothes don’t change though, so keep that in mind.”
As you think about a possible situation where you might need to do that, your gaze falls into the weeping willow. “If I turned into a dryad, would I be bound to a set of trees as well?”
“No. You’d only look like a dryad, you’d still be a changeling,” Maeve says carefully. She lays a hand on the willow’s root, gently. “You don’t gain any magical aspects of that being, only physical ones.”
You figure that weakness to metals is considered a magical attribute and not a physical one, so changing into a human didn’t get rid of it. This all seems rather complex and you'd hate having to figure everything out on your own. “I suppose that’s good to know. Is there anything else I can do?”
Lady Maeve excitedly claps her hands together. “Of course. You can master any kind of fae magic you’d like, provided you had enough training. Like this, for example.”
You watch intently as she closes her eyes. Her lips part and she begins singing, a soft melody in a language you don’t understand. It must be a lullaby, because you’re starting…to feel…sleepy…
Just as your eye lids begin to feel heavy, Maeve’s singing stops and you’re wide awake once more. Disgruntled and somewhat disturbed by the apparent power of sleep Maeve holds, you viciously rub your face to chase the last of it off.
She grins at you in pure delight. “That was fae magic, not dryad magic, so you could learn it as well. If we continue to meet, I could teach you.”
You heave a sigh, suspicion still seated deep in your heart. “We’ll see.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]“Yes, changelings and most other fae are conceived and born in much the same way as humans. There are a few differences though. Changelings can only conceive when they are untransformed, and the pregnant partner shouldn’t transform until after the child is born to prevent any possible complications.”
“So I definitely have a pair of biological parents and they gave me away?” You try to picture what your biological parents might look like but can’t quite manage it. It doesn’t really feel like it matters, considering they immediately got rid of you after your birth. There’s no helping the bitterness rising in your chest.
Lady Maeve smiles sadly. “Not necessarily. They might have died or you might have been taken from them, I’m not in the know about these things. But you are correct, oftentimes changeling parents will leave their child with a different family.”
Your stomach is twisting itself into knots and you’re forced to take a deep breath. “But why?”
“Maybe it is simply in their nature. Us dryads, for instance, grow up entirely without parents.” She doesn’t sound at all bothered about it and you realise that the culture between humans and fae might be much more fundamentally different than you expected. Talking to Maeve doesn’t feel like there’s no common ground between you, but you figure that’s exactly why she was the one they sent to talk to you.
“Can changelings have children with other kinds of fae or even humans?” you ask next.
Lady Maeve nods. “They can, yes, but the child will always be a changeling. There’s no such thing as a half-changeling.”
You wonder whether this will ever be a concern for you, but it is definitely something you should be aware of - no matter where your life is headed.
“I see. Thank you for your explanation.”
Lady Maeve smiles sweetly, playing with a strand of her hair. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]"If that is how you want it to be. I won't forget," Maeve says coldly and leans back against the willow's trunk, almost melting into it.
It seems she has reached the same conclusion as you. Even as you watch her every movement with rapt attention, ready to react at a moment's notice, you can't quite comprehend what you're seeing until she is suddenly gone - you're left staring at a tree.
You wait a few seconds, eyeing the willow suspiciously, before coming to the conclusion that she's left. The gardens are eerily quiet and you are utterly alone. Lady Maeve probably won't return here any time soon.
Although it had been your objective to gather information, you're not upset over how this turned out. Associating with her might just have led to unforseen dangers. It is better that she's gone - safer. You'll need to keep your guard up in case she tries to contact you again or does something else, but you get the feeling that her resignation wasn't played up.
Maybe Maeve has given up on recruiting you. It should fill you with relief, but you can't help the feeling that you're no closer to understanding the bigger picture. Why were you placed in the Grahm family? What are the fae planning?
You'll have to get your answers some other way, or be content with ignorance. For now though, there's no reason to stay out here. Although the night air isn't cold, you feel something like a chill.
[[It has only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]"So be it," Maeve says and leans back against the willow's trunk, almost melting into it.
It seems she has reached the same conclusion as you. Even as you watch her every movement with rapt attention, ready to react at a moment's notice, you can't quite comprehend what you're seeing until she is suddenly gone - you're left staring at a tree.
You wait a few seconds, eyeing the willow suspiciously, before coming to the conclusion that she's left. The gardens are eerily quiet and you are utterly alone. Lady Maeve probably won't return here any time soon.
Although it had been your objective to gather information, you're not upset over how this turned out. Associating with her might just have led to unforseen dangers. It is better that she's gone - safer. You'll need to keep your guard up in case she tries to contact you again or does something else, but you get the feeling that her resignation wasn't played up.
Maybe Maeve has given up on recruiting you. It should fill you with relief, but you can't help the feeling that you're no closer to understanding the bigger picture. Why were you placed in the Grahm family? What are the fae planning?
You'll have to get your answers some other way, or be content with ignorance. For now though, there's no reason to stay out here. Although the night air isn't cold, you feel something like a chill.
[[It has only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]"I won't get my hopes up," Maeve says with quiet resignation. She leans back against the willow's trunk, almost melting into it.
Even as you watch her every movement with rapt attention, ready to react at a moment's notice, you can't quite comprehend what you're seeing until she is suddenly gone - you're left staring at a tree.
You wait a few seconds, eyeing the willow suspiciously, before coming to the conclusion that she's left. The gardens are eerily quiet and you are utterly alone. Lady Maeve probably won't return here any time soon.
Although it had been your objective to gather information, you're not upset over how this turned out. Associating with her might just have led to unforseen dangers. It is better that she's gone - safer.
You'll need to keep your guard up in case does something else, but you get the feeling that her resignation wasn't played up. Maeve might have given up given up on recruiting you. It should fill you with relief, but you can't help the feeling that you're no closer to understanding the bigger picture. Why were you placed in the Grahm family? What are the fae planning?
You'll have to get your answers some other way, or be content with ignorance. For now though, there's no reason to stay out here. Although the night air isn't cold, you feel something like a chill.
[[It has only been a few minutes, but you're glad to return to your room as soon as possible.|Chapter4.14A]]A slight breeze rustles the leaves above you and the sweet scent of flowers around you heightens. Maeve instinctively seems to revel in it before she shakes her head and regards you carefully. "I figured you'd ask about this next. I did pormise answers and I will try my best. What do you want to know?"
[[“Do the fae have any kind of hierarchy? How are they organised?“|Chapter4.15A]]
[[“What can you tell me about the history of the fae and the conflict with humans?“|Chapter4.15B]]You return to your room only shortly after midnight, having gained neither information nor Maeve's approval. At the same time though, it might be best not to get involved with her any further.
As to what comes next, you'll soon have to decide whether you should tell Az'Lean about Maeve, though this might lead to having to come clean about you being a changeling as well. It's not like you can do nothing, however, what with Maeve being able to simply appear in the castle gardens.
You also are no closer to figuring out what the fae want and how you being a changeling plays into all that. Ignoring it completely might be bad idea, but there aren't many other leads for you to go on without confiding in someone. Sooner or later you'll have to face your parents and ask them how much they know about all this, though who knows when you get to see them again. This surely isn't something to be discussed via mail.
As you lie in bed, thinking about it all, you do come to one conclusion however - all of this, what you are, doesn't matter nearly as much as keeping Az'Lean and the kingdom safe. As long as you can fulfil your duties as the Champion, you'll be able to keep going and figure this out - somehow.
That's all you can do, really.
Even though you feel like this evening has been a colossal waste of your time, at the very least your thoughts feel a bit clearer. You feel a bit more aligned with a certain path and hope to the Gods that it's the right one.
[[As you cling to this piece of stability, the night passes.|Chapter4.19]]Lady Maeve smiles wryly. “Humans have this idea of us as some kind of monolith, but that’s decidedly not the case. We don’t know such things as laws or borders and most fae act on their own. Conflicts are usually resolved between individuals. There are, however, two larger factions within the fae that go beyond familial ties."
She uses her long nail to scratch two symbols into the dirt in front of her. "They are the Seelie Court and the Unseelie Court.” The symbol on the left, representing the Seelie Court, resembles a crescent moon with a teardrop falling off of it. The one one the right, representing the Unseelie Court, looks like a four-pointed star inside a diamond shape.
“So they are monarchies?” you ask as you try to memorise the smybols.
“Only in name. We do have a ruler and governing 'nobles', but they are appointed based on their abilities and not through heritage. It is a meritocracy where political power is equal to combat power.” Lady Maeve idly flexes her hand.
You vaguely remember, through a curtain of hazy panic and attempts to forget, that she mentioned something about her position at court when you first met her. “So you are…?”
Maeve seems to positively glow with pride as she sits up a little straighter. “I’m a member of the Seelie Court, the Second Dryad Duchess to be precise. It is a middling position, though I do plan on climbing the ranks with time.”
Despite her enthusiasm, you can't really tell what her position even means. She is called a duchess and a lady, but was appointed such? It's more than a little confusing.
You stare at the symbols once more. “What is the difference between the Seelie Court and the Unseelie Court?”
“The difference lies merely in ideology. The Seelie Court does not rule out the possibility of cohabitation with humans, the Unseelie Court is not willing to even consider such a compromise. Unfortunately, more and more fae are aligning themselves with the Unseelie Court.” Her expression turns sour at the mention of it. If she weren't so tall and imposing, you'd almost say she was sulking.
You try to wrap your head around what you just heard, but it isn't easy. That said, knowing that there are two major factions within the fae gives rise to one more question.
“Admittedly, the situation is more complex than I thought. One thing I have to know… The one who assassinated the Queen, a dryad - did she belong to one of these two groups?” you ask carefully.
Lady Maeve bites her lip and you're surprised that her sharp teeth don't immediately draw blood.
“We have always assumed she was a member of the Unseelie Court," she answers slowly. There's a lot of uncertainty in her voice. "That’s all I can say to that; I didn’t know her.”
It's not a satisfying answer, but you don't know enough to call her out for lying or hiding anything. In any case, there's something else you wanted to ask.
[["What can you tell me about the history of the fae and the conflict with humans?"|Chapter4.16A]]Maeve scrunches up her face in thought. “We aren’t great at keeping historical records, but as far as it is known the fae have always lived on this continent. The humans were the ones that came later."
You can't help but wonder whether that's true or not. You were taught that this continent used to be empty of sentient life and both humans and fae only arrived later to live here. It might be possible that the fae arrived here earlier, you suppose.
Lady Maeve continues. "It is said that our existence goes back to the time when the Old Gods were still tangible forces, walking the earth. Some think we are descendents of them, some think we are children of nature. In any case, there’s a reason why magic is so strong within us.”
It's not that you're an inherent sceptic, but that also seems hard to believe. The existence of the Gods is in itself a point of contention - not everyone believes in them, most only do it out of convenience. The fae being their descendents seems farfetched at best. That there is some connection between them and magic seems more likely, almost obvious.
You decided to take Maeve's words for what they are and not try to refute them. Obviously, what humans and fae are taught about history and religion will be different. There's something else you need to ask.
“How do the fae view the conflict with humans?”
Maeve leans her head back against the willow and stares up at it's drooping branches. “I can’t speak for all of us but the popular opinion is to regard you as a plague that lives beyond its means and keeps on growing.”
It is an unflattering description, but not an unsurprising one. It is true that humans tend to use a lot of natural resources. That still doesn't excuse the continued attacks from the fae, much less the assassination of the Queen.
“I assumed it was something like this. But the unwillingness to even negotiate...” You trail off, not wanting to insult her.
Lady Maeve shakes her head patiently. “Not all of us are unwilling. But you have to understand that we are not a united people. There will always be fae that resort to violence against humans, and no agreement we made could stop them. We don’t have power over each other as humans do. This fundamental difference is the reason for this conflict, I believe - and its violent nature.”
You try to wrap your head around the context. How can the fae all just live with each other without being organised? How are they not constantly at war with each other?
“Excuse the comparison, I don’t mean to offend, but would it be like making a deal with one bandit leader and then expecting all thieves across the land to follow it?”
Lady Maeve nods. “Or fencing in one rose bush and expecting all others to stop growing. Utter foolishness.”
You start tugging at the sleeves of your shirt. If that is the case and the fae are truly like that - a mass of unpredictable individuals - how can there ever be peace negotiations? Without laws, or accountability, it would be like trying to convince the sea to be less stormy.
“What hope is there then, other than one side eradicating the other?” you ask quietly.
Lady Maeve blinks at you. "There are a lot of different solutions - none of them perfect. The fae could be forced to organise. The humans could be driven out. There could be a third party of both humans and fae, trying to bridge the gap. There could be intervention from the Gods. Or we could keep killing each other."
It all seems so difficult, and large, and complex - and you realise how painfully young and inexperienced you truly are in the face of all this. Twenty-one years might as well be nothing.
Still, there's more you need to ask.
[["You said you aren't organised. Do the fae have any kind of hierarchy?"|Chapter4.16B]]Maeve scrunches up her face in thought. “We aren’t great at keeping historical records, but as far as it is known the fae have always lived on this continent. The humans were the ones that came later."
You can't help but wonder whether that's true or not. You were taught that this continent used to be empty of sentient life and both humans and fae only arrived later to live here. It might be possible that the fae arrived here earlier, you suppose.
Lady Maeve continues. "It is said that our existence goes back to the time when the Old Gods were still tangible forces, walking the earth. Some think we are their descendants, some think we are children of nature. In any case, there’s a reason why magic is so strong within us.”
It's not that you're an inherent sceptic, but that also seems hard to believe. The existence of the Gods is in itself a point of contention - not everyone believes in them, most only do it out of convenience. The fae being their descendants seems farfetched at best. That there is some connection between them and magic seems more likely, almost obvious.
You decide to take Maeve's words for what they are and not try to refute them. Obviously, what humans and fae are taught about history and religion will be different. There's something else you need to ask.
“How do the fae view the conflict with humans?”
Maeve leans her head back against the willow and stares up at its drooping branches. “I can’t speak for all of us but the popular opinion is to regard you as a plague that lives beyond its means and keeps on growing.”
It is an unflattering description, but not an unsurprising one. It is true that humans tend to use a lot of natural resources. That still doesn't excuse the continued attacks from the fae, much less the assassination of the Queen.
“I assumed it was something like this. But the unwillingness to even negotiate...” You trail off, not wanting to insult her.
Lady Maeve shakes her head patiently. “Not all of us are unwilling. But you have to understand that we are not a united people. There will always be fae that resort to violence against humans, and no agreement we made could stop them. We don’t have power over each other as humans do. This fundamental difference is the reason for this conflict, I believe - and its violent nature.”
You try to wrap your head around the context. How can the fae all just live with each other without being organised? How are they not constantly at war with each other?
“Excuse the comparison, I don’t mean to offend, but would it be like making a deal with one bandit leader and then expecting all thieves across the land to follow it?”
Lady Maeve nods. “Or fencing in one rose bush and expecting all others to stop growing. Utter foolishness.”
You start tugging at the sleeves of your shirt. If that is the case and the fae are truly like that - a mass of unpredictable individuals - how can there ever be peace negotiations? Without laws, or accountability, it would be like trying to convince the sea to be less stormy.
“What hope is there then, other than one side eradicating the other?” you ask quietly.
Lady Maeve blinks at you. "There are a lot of different solutions - none of them perfect. The fae could be forced to organise. The humans could be driven out. There could be a third party of both humans and fae, trying to bridge the gap. There could be intervention from the Gods. Or we could keep killing each other."
It all seems so difficult, and large, and complex - and you realise how painfully young and inexperienced you truly are in the face of all this. Twenty-one years might as well be nothing.
Still, there's more you need to ask.
[[“And what is it you’re trying to do? What exactly do you want from me?”|Chapter4.17]]Lady Maeve smiles wryly. “Humans have this idea of us as some kind of monolith, but that’s decidedly not the case. We don’t know such things as laws or borders and most fae act on their own. Conflicts are usually resolved between individuals. There are, however, two larger factions within the fae that go beyond familial ties."
She uses her long nail to scratch two symbols into the dirt in front of her. "They are the Seelie Court and the Unseelie Court.” The symbol on the left, representing the Seelie Court, resembles a crescent moon with a teardrop falling off of it. The one one the right, representing the Unseelie Court, looks like a four-pointed star inside a diamond shape.
“So they are monarchies?” you ask as you try to memorise the smybols.
“Only in name. We do have a ruler and governing 'nobles', but they are appointed based on their abilities and not through heritage. It is a meritocracy where political power is equal to combat power.” Lady Maeve idly flexes her hand.
You vaguely remember, through a curtain of hazy panic and attempts to forget, that she mentioned something about her position at court when you first met her. “So you are…?”
Maeve seems to positively glow with pride as she sits up a little straighter. “I’m a member of the Seelie Court, the Second Dryad Duchess to be precise. It is a middling position, though I do plan on climbing the ranks with time.”
Despite her enthusiasm, you can't really tell what her position even means. She is called a duchess and a lady, but was appointed such? It's more than a little confusing.
You stare at the symbols once more. “What is the difference between the Seelie Court and the Unseelie Court?”
“The difference lies merely in ideology. The Seelie Court does not rule out the possibility of cohabitation with humans, the Unseelie Court is not willing to even consider such a compromise. Unfortunately, more and more fae are aligning themselves with the Unseelie Court.” Her expression turns sour at the mention of it. If she weren't so tall and imposing, you'd almost say she was sulking.
You try to wrap your head around what you just heard, but it isn't easy. That said, knowing that there are two major factions within the fae gives rise to one more question.
“Admittedly, the situation is more complex than I thought. One thing I have to know… The one who assassinated the Queen, a dryad - did she belong to one of these two groups?” you ask carefully.
Lady Maeve bites her lip and you're surprised that her sharp teeth don't immediately draw blood.
“We have always assumed she was a member of the Unseelie Court," she answers slowly. There's a lot of uncertainty in her voice. "That’s all I can say to that; I didn’t know her.”
It's not a satisfying answer, but you don't know enough to call her out for lying or hiding anything. In any case, there's something else you wanted to ask.
[[“And what is it you’re trying to do? What exactly do you want from me?”|Chapter4.17]]It is eerily quiet in the gardens as Maeve thinks about her answer. She distractedly runs her hands along the willow's roots.
“Humanity needs to be kept in check," she says eventually. Her tone is even, though you can tell there's a lot of conviction behind her words. "You’re fae and you’re the closest person to the royal family there is. Put two and two together. The Seelie Court hopes you’ll represent our interests. Convince the Prince that there’s no point in killing fae. Convince him that humans have no right to our living space. If he doesn’t listen, sabotage him. If he turns out to be a tyrant, do what you can to stop him."
A shiver runs down your spine at her wording, but Maeve continues.
"I’m not trying to put any pressure on you, but if you refuse… The Seelie Court won’t hesitate to resort to more drastic measures. The Unseelie Court has already made up its mind.”
You take a second to parse her words, though the conclusion is obvious. “You’re threatening me.”
Maeve's pitch black eyes seem to bore into you, unrelenting. “Yes. As I see it, there are two options: you don’t cooperate with us and the conflict will continue to escalate, or you cooperate with us and there’s at least a chance to resolve this.”
You can't help but laugh - disbeliefing, nervously. “You really think I have that much power? That much influence?”
“You could get it if you wanted to and played your cards right. There’s still some time before you have to come to any sort of decision, the only thing I need to know right now is if you will continue seeing me. There’s a lot more for me to teach you, including fae magic. I don't know everything - who your biological parents are and whose decision it was to leave you with the Grahm family. But you deserve to know as much as possible.”
She keeps staring at you, clearly expecting an immediate answer. You're desperately trying to untangle your thoughts, weighing pros and cons and risks, trying to spot lies in her words or malice in her gaze.
The more you learn about this, the more you figure all this will end in tragedy no matter what you do. What is the right path to take?
You wring your hands and take a deep breath.
[[“Yes, I would like to keep seeing you.”|Chapter4.18A]]
[[“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do it. I’m not comfortable with deceiving the prince like that.”|Chapter4.18B]]Maeve smiles at you one last time before disappearing into thin air. You blink a few times, but she is truly gone.
As you return to your room, your mind is filled with all you've learned about the fae today - and about Maeve. A sort of burning curiosity flares to life within you and you can't help but want to know more. It feels like filling in a blank, a patch of ignorance that is to be covered up.
You continue pondering Maeve's words. Talking with her paints the fae in a more sympathetic light. You still can't quite discern how much of what she is saying is the truth, and even if it is all truthful she will still clearly avoid mentioning anything that would taint the image of the fae she is constructing.
Still, you can't help but think there is merit to this exchange between you. Understanding between humans and fae - Maeve seems willing to foster it and you might be the only one who could truly make it happen.
Despite all of that, guilt lingers deep within you. You know Maeve isn't supposed to be here and you aren't supposed to indulge her. Even if your intentions are pure, there's something traitorous in what you are doing. Going behind Az'Lean's back, keeping secrets - will it work out in the long run? Is your heart strong enough to keep this up? You suppose only time will tell.
For now though, you have gained information and perspective. Still, what comes next isn't clear - there's a lot you could do. Advocating for harmony between humans and fae, keeping your head down and hoping for the best, confiding in someone about being a changeling, sabotaging the prince in order to protect the fae...
[[There's no telling what the right move is.|Chapter4.19]]<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
You manage a slight smile. "I'm not making any promises, but I would like to continue learning from you. There's much I don't know and I appreciate your patience and willingness to share information."
Lady Maeve's eyes light up and she inclines her head. "That is all I can ask from you. No matter what you end up deciding to do, I think this exchange is beneficial for the both of us."
"I agree. As long as we're both on the same page there should be no issue."
"So then would you be fine with the same time every week? Midnight on a Sunday?" She glances up at the moon. It still hangs high in the sky.
"I can't promise I'll always be able to make it, but that should be fine for now. Someone might notice if I keep coming here at the same time every week, so we might have to change plans eventually."
Maeve claps her hands together, satisfied. "Good, then I'll be back next week. I'll try to prepare a proper lesson. It's getting late, I hope this won't interfere with your sleep."
<<if $sleep == "yes">> [[“I hoped to spend a bit more time with you tonight, actually. I want to get to know you better.“|Chapter4.M1]] <<endif>>\
[[“It's no problem. Good night, Maeve.“|Chapter4.18.5]]<<set $Maeve to 30>>\
Her face falls, clearly disappointed. "I see. I thought you might say something like that and I suppose I understand."
You remain resolute and stand up, putting some more distance between you. "I don't have anything against you personally, but this isn't something we should be doing."
Maeve nods solemnly. "Right. Still, if you ever change your mind or need to contact me for whatever reason, just come here at midnight on a Sunday and whisper my name to this willow. I'll be able to hear you."
"I'll keep it in mind. I appreciate that you were willing to share information with me, despite everything."
"I sincerely do not regret it, and I hope your future will be bright. Don't forget about me, $playername."
With those words, Lady Maeve leans back until she is in full contact with the willow's trunk. It almost seems like she is melting into it until she disappears comepletely. No trace of her presence remains.
You take a minute to make sure she is gone before letting out a breath you hadn't realised you were holding. You got the information you wanted and achieved what you needed to, so there's no reason to associate with Maeve any longer. No matter what, she is not supposed to be here and continuing to meet with her is a clear betrayal.
When you head back to your room, you feel confident that you made to right choice. What comes next isn't clear - there's a lot you could do. Continuing to fight the fae like before, advocating for a peaceful solution, reporting Maeve to Az'Lean, confiding in someone about you being a changeling... There's no telling what the right move is.
For now though, you feel a bit more in control of your situation.
[[It is with a clearer mind than before that you return to your room.|Chapter4.19]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 20th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you find yourself accompanying Az’Lean to an early-morning council meeting. You had already attended one last week, so you roughly know who the council members are, how the meeting will proceed, and how to behave during it. Although you have been granted an additional seat at the table, you are by no means an official council member. This means that you are mostly just listening to what is being said, only speaking up if Az’Lean explicitly asks for your opinion.
You are sitting to his right while Thianne occupies his left. The other members of the council are much older than you three, closer to King Az’Marn’s age or even older than that. The King himself is seated across from you, expression hardened. Even if you were allowed to speak freely, you are not sure if you would want to. The air is heavy with tension and you expect the meeting to turn heated at some point.
Az’Lean has been keeping mostly quiet as well, though when he does speak it is with a ferocity that far outmatches the cold authority of his father. On the other hand, Thianne speaks up surprisingly often, usually to correct someone or add a long string of additional information on all manner of topics. Right now, trade deals between territories are being discussed.
Just as you are about to lose focus and zone out, the door to the council room is thrown open, silencing everyone and sending a stack of papers flying.
Lady Westwale stands in the doorway, fully dressed in armour and a grave expression on her face. “Urgent report, your majesty,” she says, sounding slightly out of breath.
King Az’Marn’s brow furrows and he sits up a little straighter. “What happened? I thought you were visiting your brother?”
She nods, stepping closer to the table. “I just returned, bearing ill news from Westwale territory.”
You quickly get up and offer her your chair - it seems like she might need to sit down in order to explain. Whatever is going on, it must be dire if it has her rushing in like this.
“Thank you, $playername,” Lady Westwale says as she takes a seat. “Allow me to explain, your majesty.”
King Az’Marn gestures for her to continue. Everyone else barely dares to breathe, carrying worried expressions of different degrees.
“I was headed to Westwale territory to check in with my brother, but as soon as I arrived there, I learnt of some recent problems. A village near the border has seen repeated attacks by a group of fae. I decided to see the trouble for myself and it is true, I saw them lingering just outside the border. Around twenty fae, led by a Dullahan. I fear we are dealing with a Wild Hunt. If that is the case, the guards stationed in Westwale territory won’t be enough to handle it, so I returned here immediately. I rode all night.”
“A Wild Hunt crossing the border!” King Az’Marn exclaims in utter shock. “They have grown quite brazen.”
A dark look crosses Az’Lean’s face. “What is a Wild Hunt? I assume it’s not just a hunting party.”
“It is an omen,” Lord Ilon, the kingdom’s treasurer, answers with a look of foreboding. “They are a group of riders sent out to parade across the lands, inspiring fear and attacking all they come across. Death follows in their wake, and often war is not far behind.”
“It might not be an official declaration of war, but it is certainly an attempt at intimidation. Or a threat,” King Az’Marn concludes. “We’ll have to respond defensively and protect our borders. It seems pru-”
“If you are planning to send out a group of knights, then let me go as well,” Az’Lean interrupts swiftly. “I am of age now, I should be gathering experience.”
The king scowls and shakes his head. “No. Out of the question. It’s much too dangerous. There’s no reason for a prince to do border patrol.”
Az’Lean is not the least bit deterred, throwing his father a challenging glare. “It’s not only that. I need to get out of the city, show the people I’m actually there for them. How can I rule a kingdom I’ve only seen a tiny fraction of? This is a great opportunity. Don’t forget I have a Champion now, so I’ll be protected at all times.”
King Az’Marn looks at you with narrowed eyes. “And what does the Champion think?”
[[“I agree that it is too dangerous. The knights should take care of this.”|Chapter4.20A]]
[[“I swear I’ll protect the prince with my life. No harm will come to him on this mission, so he should be free to go.”|Chapter4.20B]]You just finished getting ready for the day. It has been getting a little warmer, so you chose to wear something light today. Although you don’t usually wear the silver owl brooch your mother has gifted you all those years ago, no one can fault you for feeling sentimental with all that’s happened.
Today, you just need that little reminder. No matter what happens next, you know that your parents raised you with care, and you know that your childhood with them was real. The weight of the brooch over your heart feels calming, and you appreciate that you have something physical that connects you with the Grahm family name.
One of these days, you’ll have to visit them and ask them how much they know. Today isn’t that day, not only because you don’t have the time, but also because you don’t feel like you could handle it. What if they truly don’t know and you’d have to tell them? <i>They might reject you. </i> The thought makes your skin crawl.
Even though the meeting with Lady Maeve hangs above your head like an impending thunderstorm, you know it would be unhealthy to spend all day dreading it. You’ve made an effort these past few days to live normally, and even though it’s been hard at times to not let your inner turmoil coax you back into a spiral of dark thoughts, you’ve been managing somewhat.
The nights have been difficult, admittedly, being plagued with either nightmares or no sleep at all, but as long as there’s something to distract you during the day, you can function at the very least.
There are a few options as to how you could spend your day off, though you think you’d like to spend it in company. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Vynn, so maybe you should see how they’re doing. You could also see what Az’Lean is up to; it might be nice to spend some time together outside of work. There’s always the option to get to know Thianne or Lester better, as well. They seem like interesting people with much to discover about them. Or maybe you should try catching up on sleep, so you can spend more time talking to Maeve tonight.
No matter what you pick, you’re sure it’ll be a day well spent.
[[Check up on Vynn.|Chapter4.3V]]
[[See what Az’Lean is doing today.|Chapter4.3A]]
[[Take a nap so you can stay up longer and spend more time with Maeve later.|Chapter4.3M]]
[[Spend time with Thianne.|Chapter4.3T]]
[[Go looking for Lester.|Chapter4.3L]]Az’Lean goes all tense, not meeting your eye. “The Champion’s opinion is irrelevant. I will go, father. Don’t think for a second you could stop me.”
The temperature in the council room seems to drop at such an obvious display of insubordination. Despite the frustration in his eyes, King Az’Marn makes it a point to take a deep, slow breath.
His expression is almost pained when he speaks next. “Very well then. I will delegate command of this mission to Az’Lean.”
You can’t help but gape in surprise - you hadn’t expected for the King to relent that easily. Does he want to avoid conflict at any cost, or does he truly think Az’Lean would leave the castle on his own by force? Whatever is going on here between father and son, you don’t think it’s a good thing.
“Are you certain, my liege?” Lady Westwale asks cautiously. “I would have preferred to take command myself.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Az’Lean says, all traces of ferocity gone from his voice and posture, instead replaced by a dazzling smile. “You must be exhausted after such long travel without rest. Be assured that I will take care of everything in your stead.”
“I-” Lady Westwale schools her wary expression into one of obedient neutrality. “Of course. It is as you say, my prince.”
Az’Lean gets up from his seat, almost thrumming with excitement. “Thianne, $playername, let us go to my chambers and discuss a course of action. I’m sure the council meeting will proceed just as well without us.”
It’s another deliberate slight against the king, you realise, carefully disguised as urgency in the face of a growing threat.
It is with a murmur of concerned whispers that the three of you leave the council room and start heading towards Az’Lean’s chambers.
“You want me to come along,” Thianne says after a while, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
“I figure this is the perfect opportunity to use your new devices, isn’t it?” Az’Lean asks with a half-smile.
Thianne glares up at him. “I haven’t tested them yet.”
“Then this will be the test. Simple as that.”
“What devices are you talking about?” you need to ask.
Thianne looks torn between excitement over her invention and the need to explain everything in simple terms. “I’ve been workin’ on a new type of magical barrier. You can set them wherever you want and they prevent fae from passin’ through them. Difficult to destroy from the outside. There is also the option to make them lethal - not just preventing passage but hurtin’ any fae that touches them.”
You can’t help the sudden fear of a barrier like that having been set up somewhere in the castle. What if Az’Lean gets the idea to install one in front of the door to his room and then expects you to enter? A shiver runs down your spine as you imagine it.
“Sounds like just the thing to defend our borders,” you say, glad that your voice remains steady.
“My thoughts exactly. But let’s discuss the details later,” Az’Lean says before suddenly coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “Actually, us three won’t be enough, will it?”
“You know I’m not much of a fighter,” Thianne says bitterly. “I’m not riskin’ my life for you.”
“Should I gather a few more knights?” you offer.
Az’Lean looks torn for a moment. “Truthfully, I would like this mission to be a bit more on the covert side. For all my bravado, it is true that I lack experience in commanding a large group of people. I think a smaller group made up of my peers would be better. How about Chev Hollowpeann?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Vynn? They are more than capable, no doubt. Though they might not be too happy about having to go on a mission."
"They fought well in the tournament, you have experience working with them, and they have joined the knights who are stationed in the castle. I think they would be a good fit," Az'Lean reasons.
"Will two rookie knights be enough?" Thianne asks skeptically.
Az'Lean barks a laugh. "Have some faith, Thianne. We are talking about the two strongest knights of this generation, while you are no doubt the strongest sorceress and I - well, I can fend for myself."
"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one," you say, having witnessed his strength first hand. "In any case, I'll get Vynn and meet you in your room. Then we can discuss the details."
[[Az'Lean and Thianne send you off with a nod.|Chapter4.21]]Az’Lean crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Is that not enough for you, father?”
The king’s gaze lingers on you for another moment and you feel thoroughly judged. You don’t know what conclusion he comes to, but after a while he nods slowly.
“I can see your point, and it is true that you will need to gain experience at some point. Nevertheless, I worry this might be a bit big to start with, not to mention quite a ways away.” King Az’Marn looks almost pained. “Lady Westwale, what do you think? You’ve seen the situation first hand and know <<if $gender == "boy">>Sir Grahm’s<<endif>>
<<if $gender == "girl">> Lady Grahm’s<<endif>> <<if $gender == "child">> Chev Grahm’s <<endif>> capabilities.”
Lady Westwale doesn’t quite look convinced herself. “Ordinarily, I would have preferred to take command myself. The journey has taken a toll on me, however, and it is true that $playername is without a doubt the strongest knight of this generation. The prince is a force to be reckoned with himself, though I don’t know about his leadership skills.”
“I don’t plan on taking on any kind of fight we can’t handle,” Az’Lean is quick to point out. “The goal is simply to strengthen our borders, correct? I have a few ideas on how to approach the issue without engaging in full on fight.”
King Az’Marn lets out a deep breath. “Very well then. I will delegate command of this mission to Az’Lean.”
You are surprised that he relented this easily, and you can’t tell whether he truly believes Az’Lean to be competent or merely wishes to avoid further conflict.
Az’Lean gets up from his seat, almost thrumming with excitement. “Thianne, $playername, let us go to my chambers and discuss a course of action. I’m sure the council meeting will proceed just as well without us.”
It’s a deliberate slight against the king, you realise, carefully disguised as urgency in the face of a growing threat. You don’t know what’s going on between father and son, but you think this might be more than just a difference of opinion.
It is with a murmur of concerned whispers that the three of you leave the council room and start heading towards Az’Lean’s chambers.
“You want me to come along,” Thianne says after a while, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
“I figure this is the perfect opportunity to use your new devices, isn’t it?” Az’Lean asks with a half-smile.
Thianne glares up at him. “I haven’t tested them yet.”
“Then this will be the test. Simple as that.”
“What devices are you talking about?” you need to ask.
Thianne looks torn between excitement over her invention and the need to explain everything in simple terms. “I’ve been workin’ on a new type of magical barrier. You can set them wherever you want and they prevent fae from passin’ through them. Difficult to destroy from the outside. There is also the option to make them lethal - not just preventing passage but hurtin’ any fae that touches them.”
You can’t help the sudden fear of a barrier like that having been set up somewhere in the castle. What if Az’Lean gets the idea to install one in front of the door to his room and then expects you to enter? A shiver runs down your spine as you imagine it.
“Sounds like just the thing to defend our borders,” you say, glad that your voice remains steady.
“My thoughts exactly. But let’s discuss the details later,” Az’Lean says before suddenly coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “Actually, us three won’t be enough, will it?”
“You know I’m not much of a fighter,” Thianne says bitterly. “I’m not riskin’ my life for you.”
“Should I gather a few more knights?” you offer.
Az’Lean looks torn for a moment. “Truthfully, I would like this mission to be a bit more on the covert side. For all my bravado, it is true that I lack experience in commanding a large group of people. I think a smaller group made up of my peers would be better. How about Chev Hollowpeann?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Vynn? They are more than capable, no doubt. Though they might not be too happy about having to go on a mission."
"They fought well in the tournament, you have experience working with them, and they have joined the knights who are stationed in the castle. I think they would be a good fit," Az'Lean reasons.
"Will two rookie knights be enough?" Thianne asks skeptically.
Az'Lean barks a laugh. "Have some faith, Thianne. We are talking about the two strongest knights of this generation, while you are no doubt the strongest sorceress and I - well, I can fend for myself."
"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one," you say, having witnessed his strength first hand. "In any case, I'll get Vynn and meet you in your room. Then we can discuss the details."
[[Az'Lean and Thianne send you off with a nod.|Chapter4.21]]Vynn is predictably unenthusiastic about having to go on a potentially dangerous mission only a week after having been knighted, but ultimately relents when they hear that at least none of the senior knights will be accompanying you.
"Some space to breathe, at least," they say as they follow you through the halls to Az'Lean's room. "The prince seems like he could be strict if he really wanted to, but I don't think he'd admonish me for slouching on my horse."
"Agreed. Also, I think you'd get along with Thianne. Don't know if she'd get along with you though," you say, trying to imagine those two interacting.
Vynn chuckles. "I'll wear down her walls, don't you worry."
Soon enough, the four of you are crowded around Az’Lean’s desk, peering down at a map of Gaiapeia.
<img src="images/Map.png">
“To reiterate, a group of about twenty fae have formed some sort of Wild Hunt, engaging in attacks along the border between the fae lands and Westwale territory. As you can see, the Crimson Marshes stretch along there. They are called such due to the red clay that can be found there,” Az’Lean explains as he points at the map.
“The plan is to install my magical barrier devices along the border to keep the fae out and the villagers safe, right?” Thianne asks.
She seems to have retrieved some of these devices while you were off finding Vynn. It looks like a small bowl made out of bronze with some kind of glass sphere inside of it - it almost reminds you of a lamp.
Vynn stares at the device with mild interest. “Could you explain what those things are and how they work?”
“Sure. You know how runestones can be used to create different kinds of magical barriers? Dependin’ on the runes that are used?” Thianne waits for Vynn to nod before she continues. “Imagine that this outer shell is the stone, and this orb is the rune. On the inside are a number of magical crystals that dispense light. Dependin’ on how you set them up, they can form a different kind of rune, which will be projected onto the outer shell. It’s like a flexible runestone.”
“So it is a lamp,” you mumble quietly to yourself.
Thianne continues without pause. “I have also added a number of enchantments to strengthen the effect and the duration of the magic. Once we install them, they should be runnin’ on their own for well over a year. The bigger concern would be someone on our side, that is in Westwale territory, movin’ or disturbin’ the devices. We should probably think of a way to make sure they stay in one place.”
“Sounds neat. So what are they called?” Vynn asks with a grin.
Thianne stares at them, unblinking.
Vynn’s grin widens. “Well we can’t just keep calling them ‘magical barrier devices’. That’s just ridiculous.”
“Fine. Mabs. We’ll call them mabs,” Thianne says with a poorly hidden sneer. “Like I said, they are flexible, so we have the option of simply settin’ it to no entry for fae, or we could set them to hurt all fae who touch the barrier. The second option is potentially lethal.”
Az’Lean hums thoughtfully. “I’d say we make that call once we get there and see the situation for ourselves.”
“I agree. It looks like we’ll have to pass through Aran territory to get there,” you say, moving your finger across the map.
Az’Lean nods. “I’d suggest just riding through until we get to Westwale territory, spending the night with Lord Westwale, and then continuing on to the affected villages tomorrow morning.”
“No objections. What do we know about the group of fae? A Wild Hunt is like a… they’re like raiders, right?” Vynn asks.
“In some sense, yes. They strike quickly, always on the move. They seem to be led by a Dullahan - one of those headless riders. But don’t worry, we’re not goin’ there lookin’ for a direct confrontation. Right, Az?” Thianne asks, the challenge clear in her voice.
“Of course not,” Az’Lean answers smoothly. “Twenty opponents is a bit much even for us four. What concerns me more is that apparently a Wild Hunt is equivalent to a threat, a promise of yet more to come. All the more reason for us to make quick work of this. Everyone, gear up and meet me at the stables in an hour.”
<i>Your codex has been updated. Map of Gaiapeia added to images.</i> <<set $chapter to 4>>
[[Leave immediately to get ready.|Chapter4.22A]]
[[Before you leave, subtly suggest that the mabs should not be set to lethal.|Chapter4.22B]]
[[Before you leave, subtly suggest that the mabs should definitely be set to lethal.|Chapter4.22C]]You return to your room to get ready, grabbing your weapons, armouring up, and packing some basic supplies for a day’s travel. It is a good thing that you won’t have to make camp somewhere outside, but you’d rather err on the side of caution and bring a few items too many rather than be unexpectedly stranded without them. Once you have everything you need, you head down to the stables.
<<if $horseinfo == "yes">>
Az’Lean is already there, instructing the stable hand to prepare Tàmh. The prince has changed into his shiny black armour, though he isn’t wearing his clawed gauntlet. You suppose it would make holding the reins quite difficult.
“I hope you’re up for a ride, Tàmh,” you say to the stallion as you enter the stables yourself. Az’Lean’s horse snorts in affirmative.
You make your way over to Faiche, who is already watching you with anticipation. “You too, Faiche.” She whinnies defiantly.
“You’re good with animals, right?” Az’Lean asks as he watches you closely. “They even seem to answer you.”
You instinctively tense up. That’s a not a normal thing for a human, is it? “Yes, well -”
You are spared from having to come up with an explanation when Vynn and Thianne join you, loudly discussing which exact route you should be taking to reach Westwale territory. To your relief, Az’Lean joins in on the discussion and you get back to readying up Faiche.
<<else>>
Az’Lean is already there, instructing the stable hand to prepare his horse, a large, pitch-black stallion. “Make sure to check Tàmh’s horse shoes,” Az’Lean adds and you can’t help but think that Tàmh is a most fitting name for a royal horse.
As of right now, you don’t own a horse of your own, but there is one horse you’ve been favouring during training. You hope Vynn won’t mind you taking her.
It doesn’t take long to find her – a beautiful, bay mare with a braided black mane called Faiche. Her temperament is very fierce and she can be a bit stubborn, but Faiche is one of the most intelligent animals you have ever met. As soon as you reach her, she turns her head in attention.
“I hope you're up for a ride,” you say and she seems to snort in affirmative.
As you go about readying up Faiche, Vynn and Thianne join you, loudly discussing which exact route you should be taking to reach Westwale territory. <<endif>>\
It doesn’t take too long and soon enough the four of you are riding through the city, headed for the western gate. Az’Lean leads the way, dressed in his shiny black armour and seated upon his black stallion, looking for all the world like a shadow made manifest. His blond hair seems to glow even brighter in contrast.
You follow directly behind him, keeping pace, while Vynn and Thianne make up the rear. Vynn has chosen one of the other horses you’ve been using during training, a light-brown mare with white spots named Leigh. Thianne’s horse isn’t one you’ve ever seen before and it definitely isn’t a war horse; it’s much too delicate looking for that. It does look beautiful, however, stark white and sleek as it is.
Riding through the city turns a few heads but otherwise doesn’t cause much of an uproar. The people are used to seeing Az’Lean go for a ride, and they don’t have any reason to suspect that you are leaving for any other reason than that.
You don’t have to slow down once you reach the western gate; the guards don’t bother questioning the prince. Within minutes you are cutting through Aran territory at a moderate pace. Near Gaitanis it’s mostly fields and grassy plains, filled with sheep and goats. The air is fresh and the sky is filled with soft clouds, and you are glad not to have to shield your eyes from the sun as you ride.
After a while, your pace is set to a comfortable trot, not wanting to wear out your horses this early. While Az’Lean is still leading you, your formation is constantly shifting as the road allows. Right now, Vynn is riding next to Az’Lean and you and Thianne are behind them.
“Just to reiterate, we won’t be doing any fighting, right?” they ask. It isn’t the first time they‘ve asked.
Az’Lean sighs. “Not unless we have to, Vynn. You’ll be fine.”
“Won’t you be in the back shootin’ arrows anyway?” Thianne asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Think about it, Vynn,” you say, “isn’t this the ideal set-up? An archer, a mage, and two front-line fighters. Even if we had to fight, Az’Lean and I would take the brunt of it.”
“For which I am endlessly thankful,” Vynn drawls, “but! What if the enemy goes for me because they know I’m not as good defensively?”
“Then they’re a fool. You can hold your own easily in close combat as well,” Az’Lean says and reaches over to clap Vynn on the back. “I’ve seen it first hand.”
You can’t see Vynn’s face from here but you’re certain you can hear them smile when they say: “It’s no fun at all to complain when everyone is being so supportive.”
Thianne perks up at that. “Allow me to fix that for you: you’re trash at fightin’ and we’re all goin’ to die.”
Vynn laughs. “Now that’s what I wanna hear. Thanks, Thianne.”
“Just doin’ my part to keep this team goin’.”
Your group of four keeps riding through Aran territory, engaging in banter all the while. Whether you all are genuinely trying to get to know each other or it’s just an attempt to keep the mood light, you certainly appreciate it.
The terrain around you slowly becomes more hilly and now you watch grazing cows instead of sheep. You keep passing villages here and there, and overall, Aran territory turns out to be utterly idyllic and pastoral. Time flies as you ride, only stopping for short breaks occasionally.
[[Once you start approaching the border to Westwale territory, the sky above you begins to darken, and not just because the sun has started to set.|Chapter4.23]]<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
You hang back as Thianne and Vynn leave to get ready. Az'Lean notices immediately. "Is something wrong, $playername?"
"No," you answer quickly before taking a deep breath. "I was merely thinking that it would be preferable not to set the mabs to lethal. We shouldn't use excessive violence if other options are available."
"Thank you for sharing your opinion with me. I suppose we shall make our decision once we see how grave the situation at the border truly is," Az'Lean answers with a smile though you can hear the dismissal in his voice. You get the feeling his mind is already made up.
"Of course," you say and exit his room with a bow.
You return to your room to get ready, grabbing your weapons, armouring up, and packing some basic supplies for a day’s travel. It is a good thing that you won’t have to make camp somewhere outside, but you’d rather err on the side of caution and bring a few items too many rather than be unexpectedly stranded without them. Once you have everything you need, you head down to the stables.
<<if $horseinfo == "yes">>
Az’Lean is already there, instructing the stable hand to prepare Tàmh. The prince has changed into his shiny black armour, though he isn’t wearing his clawed gauntlet. You suppose it would make holding the reins quite difficult.
“I hope you’re up for a ride, Tàmh,” you say to the stallion as you enter the stables yourself. Az’Lean’s horse snorts in affirmative.
You make your way over to Faiche, who is already watching you with anticipation. “You too, Faiche.” She whinnies defiantly.
“You’re good with animals, right?” Az’Lean asks as he watches you closely. “They even seem to answer you.”
You instinctively tense up. That’s a not a normal thing for a human, is it? “Yes, well -”
You are spared from having to come up with an explanation when Vynn and Thianne join you, loudly discussing which exact route you should be taking to reach Westwale territory. To your relief, Az’Lean joins in on the discussion and you get back to readying up Faiche.
<<else>>
Az’Lean is already there, instructing the stable hand to prepare his horse, a large, pitch-black stallion. “Make sure to check Tàmh’s horse shoes,” Az’Lean adds and you can’t help but think that Tàmh is a most fitting name for a royal horse.
As of right now, you don’t own a horse of your own, but there is one horse you’ve been favouring during training. You hope Vynn won’t mind you taking her.
It doesn’t take long to find her – a beautiful, bay mare with a braided black mane called Faiche. Her temperament is very fierce and she can be a bit stubborn, but Faiche is one of the most intelligent animals you have ever met. As soon as you reach her, she turns her head in attention.
“I hope you're up for a ride,” you say and she seems to snort in affirmative.
As you go about readying up Faiche, Vynn and Thianne join you, loudly discussing which exact route you should be taking to reach Westwale territory.
<<endif>>\
It doesn’t take too long and soon enough the four of you are riding through the city, headed for the western gate. Az’Lean leads the way, dressed in his shiny black armour and seated upon his black stallion, looking for all the world like a shadow made manifest. His blond hair seems to glow even brighter in contrast.
You follow directly behind him, keeping pace, while Vynn and Thianne make up the rear. Vynn has chosen one of the other horses you’ve been using during training, a light-brown mare with white spots named Leigh. Thianne’s horse isn’t one you’ve ever seen before and it definitely isn’t a war horse; it’s much too delicate looking for that. It does look beautiful, however, stark white and sleek as it is.
Riding through the city turns a few heads but otherwise doesn’t cause much of an uproar. The people are used to seeing Az’Lean go for a ride, and they don’t have any reason to suspect that you are leaving for any other reason than that.
You don’t have to slow down once you reach the western gate; the guards don’t bother questioning the prince. Within minutes you are cutting through Aran territory at a moderate pace. Near Gaitanis it’s mostly fields and grassy plains, filled with sheep and goats. The air is fresh and the sky is filled with soft clouds, and you are glad not to have to shield your eyes from the sun as you ride.
After a while, your pace is set to a comfortable trot, not wanting to wear out your horses this early. While Az’Lean is still leading you, your formation is constantly shifting as the road allows. Right now, Vynn is riding next to Az’Lean and you and Thianne are behind them.
“Just to reiterate, we won’t be doing any fighting, right?” they ask. It isn’t the first time they‘ve asked.
Az’Lean sighs. “Not unless we have to, Vynn. You’ll be fine.”
“Won’t you be in the back shootin’ arrows anyway?” Thianne asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Think about it, Vynn,” you say, “isn’t this the ideal set-up? An archer, a mage, and two front-line fighters. Even if we had to fight, Az’Lean and I would take the brunt of it.”
“For which I am endlessly thankful,” Vynn drawls, “but! What if the enemy goes for me because they know I’m not as good defensively?”
“Then they’re a fool. You can hold your own easily in close combat as well,” Az’Lean says and reaches over to clap Vynn on the back. “I’ve seen it first hand.”
You can’t see Vynn’s face from here but you’re certain you can hear them smile when they say: “It’s no fun at all to complain when everyone is being so supportive.”
Thianne perks up at that. “Allow me to fix that for you: you’re trash at fightin’ and we’re all goin’ to die.”
Vynn laughs. “Now that’s what I wanna hear. Thanks, Thianne.”
“Just doin’ my part to keep this team goin’.”
Your group of four keeps riding through Aran territory, engaging in banter all the while. Whether you all are genuinely trying to get to know each other or it’s just an attempt to keep the mood light, you certainly appreciate it.
The terrain around you slowly becomes more hilly and now you watch grazing cows instead of sheep. You keep passing villages here and there, and overall, Aran territory turns out to be utterly idyllic and pastoral. Time flies as you ride, only stopping for short breaks occasionally.
[[Once you start approaching the border to Westwale territory, the sky above you begins to darken, and not just because the sun has started to set.|Chapter4.23]]<<set $humanity to $humanity + 10>>\
You hang back as Thianne and Vynn leave to get ready. Az'Lean notices immediately. "Is something wrong, $playername?"
"No," you answer quickly before taking a deep breath. "I was merely thinking that we shouldn't take this lightly. If there is a lethal option, we might have to make use of it to ensure the safety of the villagers."
"Thank you for sharing your opinion with me. I suppose we shall make our decision once we see how grave the situation at the border truly is," Az'Lean answers with a smile though it doesn't reach his eyes. You get the feeling he agrees with you, though maybe not for the same reasons.
"Of course," you say and exit his room with a bow.
You return to your room to get ready, grabbing your weapons, armouring up, and packing some basic supplies for a day’s travel. It is a good thing that you won’t have to make camp somewhere outside, but you’d rather err on the side of caution and bring a few items too many rather than be unexpectedly stranded without them. Once you have everything you need, you head down to the stables.
<<if $horseinfo == "yes">>
Az’Lean is already there, instructing the stable hand to prepare Tàmh. The prince has changed into his shiny black armour, though he isn’t wearing his clawed gauntlet. You suppose it would make holding the reins quite difficult.
“I hope you’re up for a ride, Tàmh,” you say to the stallion as you enter the stables yourself. Az’Lean’s horse snorts in affirmative.
You make your way over to Faiche, who is already watching you with anticipation. “You too, Faiche.” She whinnies defiantly.
“You’re good with animals, right?” Az’Lean asks as he watches you closely. “They even seem to answer you.”
You instinctively tense up. That’s a not a normal thing for a human, is it? “Yes, well -”
You are spared from having to come up with an explanation when Vynn and Thianne join you, loudly discussing which exact route you should be taking to reach Westwale territory. To your relief, Az’Lean joins in on the discussion and you get back to readying up Faiche.
<<else>>
Az’Lean is already there, instructing the stable hand to prepare his horse, a large, pitch-black stallion. “Make sure to check Tàmh’s horse shoes,” Az’Lean adds and you can’t help but think that Tàmh is a most fitting name for a royal horse.
As of right now, you don’t own a horse of your own, but there is one horse you’ve been favouring during training. You hope Vynn won’t mind you taking her.
It doesn’t take long to find her – a beautiful, bay mare with a braided black mane called Faiche. Her temperament is very fierce and she can be a bit stubborn, but Faiche is one of the most intelligent animals you have ever met. As soon as you reach her, she turns her head in attention.
“I hope you're up for a ride,” you say and she seems to snort in affirmative.
As you go about readying up Faiche, Vynn and Thianne join you, loudly discussing which exact route you should be taking to reach Westwale territory.
<<endif>>\
It doesn’t take too long and soon enough the four of you are riding through the city, headed for the western gate. Az’Lean leads the way, dressed in his shiny black armour and seated upon his black stallion, looking for all the world like a shadow made manifest. His blond hair seems to glow even brighter in contrast.
You follow directly behind him, keeping pace, while Vynn and Thianne make up the rear. Vynn has chosen one of the other horses you’ve been using during training, a light-brown mare with white spots named Leigh. Thianne’s horse isn’t one you’ve ever seen before and it definitely isn’t a war horse; it’s much too delicate looking for that. It does look beautiful, however, stark white and sleek as it is.
Riding through the city turns a few heads but otherwise doesn’t cause much of an uproar. The people are used to seeing Az’Lean go for a ride, and they don’t have any reason to suspect that you are leaving for any other reason than that.
You don’t have to slow down once you reach the western gate; the guards don’t bother questioning the prince. Within minutes you are cutting through Aran territory at a moderate pace. Near Gaitanis it’s mostly fields and grassy plains, filled with sheep and goats. The air is fresh and the sky is filled with soft clouds, and you are glad not to have to shield your eyes from the sun as you ride.
After a while, your pace is set to a comfortable trot, not wanting to wear out your horses this early. While Az’Lean is still leading you, your formation is constantly shifting as the road allows. Right now, Vynn is riding next to Az’Lean and you and Thianne are behind them.
“Just to reiterate, we won’t be doing any fighting, right?” they ask. It isn’t the first time they‘ve asked.
Az’Lean sighs. “Not unless we have to, Vynn. You’ll be fine.”
“Won’t you be in the back shootin’ arrows anyway?” Thianne asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Think about it, Vynn,” you say, “isn’t this the ideal set-up? An archer, a mage, and two front-line fighters. Even if we had to fight, Az’Lean and I would take the brunt of it.”
“For which I am endlessly thankful,” Vynn drawls, “but! What if the enemy goes for me because they know I’m not as good defensively?”
“Then they’re a fool. You can hold your own easily in close combat as well,” Az’Lean says and reaches over to clap Vynn on the back. “I’ve seen it first hand.”
You can’t see Vynn’s face from here but you’re certain you can hear them smile when they say: “It’s no fun at all to complain when everyone is being so supportive.”
Thianne perks up at that. “Allow me to fix that for you: you’re trash at fightin’ and we’re all goin’ to die.”
Vynn laughs. “Now that’s what I wanna hear. Thanks, Thianne.”
“Just doin’ my part to keep this team goin’.”
Your group of four keeps riding through Aran territory, engaging in banter all the while. Whether you all are genuinely trying to get to know each other or it’s just an attempt to keep the mood light, you certainly appreciate it.
The terrain around you slowly becomes more hilly and now you watch grazing cows instead of sheep. You keep passing villages here and there, and overall, Aran territory turns out to be utterly idyllic and pastoral. Time flies as you ride, only stopping for short breaks occasionally.
[[Once you start approaching the border to Westwale territory, the sky above you begins to darken, and not just because the sun has started to set.|Chapter4.23]]Black clouds are rapidly covering the sky and it thunders in the distance. Right as you pass the old wooden sign post that declares everything beyond this point as Westwale territory, the first few drops start to fall, soon turning into a relentless downpour.
“Now that’s what I call forebodin’,” Thianne shouts over the rain as she pulls her hood as far over her head as she can.
“It’s not much farther until we reach the Westwale estate,” Az’Lean assures, pushing wet hair out of his face. “We just have to make sure not to lose sight of the road.”
You squint as you try to concentrate on where the dirt road ends and the plains around you begin. There’s no longer any cattle or landmarks to orient yourselves on. At this point, your clothes are becoming drenched and you can feel the wetness down to your skin.
“I hope Lord Westwale doesn’t mind us turning up at his doorstep in this condition,” you say.
“Forget fighting the fae, this is the real reason I shouldn’t have come along,” Vynn says bitterly. Their hair is somehow both all frizzed up and completely soaked.
There’s no point in talking beyond that; all sounds are completely drowned out by the rain’s harsh prattle. You can tell the strain it’s starting to take on Faiche and you truly hope it isn’t much further.
Just as it becomes almost too dark to see the road without a light, you spot the glimmer of lanterns in front of you, a ways down the road. The dirt is turning into slick cobblestone, and while you have to slow down, it also means that you are nearing civilization. It doesn’t take long for a large village to pop into view, nearer than you thought it would be. The houses are all built around a hill atop which a large mansion towers. It is made entirely of stone, void of any colour, almost resembling a keep. The rain runs down the cut stone like waterfalls, and the way up to the mansion looks slippery and steep.
As soon as you enter the village, you are approached by a pair of guards.
“We’ve been expecting someone, but we didn’t think it would be the prince himself,” one of the guards says as she approaches Az’Lean. “Welcome to Westwale territory, your majesty.”
“Now really isn’t the time for pleasantries,” the other guard says, apparently sick of the rain themselves. “Just head on up to the estate, Lord Westwale is waiting for you. Leave the horses to us, we’ll get them a nice place to stay in the tavern’s stables.”
“Thank you,” Az’Lean says as you all begin to dismount, taking caution not to slip and end up falling into the mud. You take your pack off of Faiche, hoping your change of clothes is still dry. The others grab some things as well before parting from their horses.
The four of you all but scramble up the path to the mansion, and when Az’Lean knocks at the door it is with far more force than necessary.
A servant opens the door, looking anxious before his eyes widen in awe and he hurriedly makes way for you. “Your majesty and company, step inside at once!”
“No need to tell me twice,” Vynn says.
The entrance hall is dark and gloomy enough even without the puddles worth of water pooling around you. The servant tries his best to hand you all towels to dry off while also mopping up the water, but it seems to endlessly drip from you all the same.
“Maybe a change of clothes is necessary,” you suggest as you shake even more water out of your gauntlets. “This will take all night otherwise.”
The servant grimaces. “Right, of course. So then, I’ll lead you to your guest quarters, dry up after you, notify Lord Westwale of your arrival, and start making dinner.”
“Don’t worry, no need to rush,” Az’Lean assures quickly. “We wouldn’t want you to slip and injure yourself.”
The servant blushes brightly. “Yes, your majesty. You are too kind. Allow me to take you upstairs.”
He guides you up a set of old, creaky wooden stairs, through a corridor adorned with antique sets of armour, propped up upon stands in valiant poses, though gathering dust, and to a set of guest chambers. There are three in total, so someone will have to share. While Az’Lean and Thianne go into separate chambers to change, you and Vynn share one. You’ve helped each other into and out of armour for a decade now.
“The poet in me wants to call this rain a bad omen,” Vynn says as they pull off their sopping wet scarf.
You take off your boots and marvel at how much more water pours out of them onto the ground.“So instead of it being badly timed, it might actually be well timed? To warn us about what we’re getting into?”
Vynn nods. “Like the Gods are yelling at us to go away and not get involved.”
You suddenly pause, your overshirt already half-way over your head. Slowly you lower it back down, despite how uncomfortable it feels. “Be careful Vynn. That almost sounds like you’re insinuating that the Gods might be on the side of the fae.”
“They’re not just our Gods though, are they? The New Deity is for humans, but the Old Gods are for the world, aren’t they?” Vynn’s brow wrinkles. “If they exist.”
“If they exist,” you echo. Religion in Gaiapeia has always been something mild, only really brought up during festivals when there is something to celebrate, or disasters when there is someone to blame. The Old Gods are little more than myths at this point, but there are still some clerics around. The New Deity has, as Their name implies, not been around for much longer than a few decades, though They have slowly been gaining popularity. Az’Lean’s grandmother, Queen Az’Hanna, had been one of the first devout believers.
“Now might not be the time to discuss religion,” you add after a minute, having realised that both you and Vynn have become lost in thought.
“True enough,” Vynn says and continues changing.
You are glad that your change of clothes has remained dry throughout all of this, though you only brought one pair of boots. After wiping them dry as best you can, you slip back into them and wince at the way you can feel the damp leather even through your socks.
When you and Vynn step out into the corridor, Az’Lean and Thianne are already waiting there for you.
“We were just discussing sleepin’ arrangements,” Thianne says as she leans against the wall, imitating the nonchalant pose of the armour set next to her. “Any preferences?”
[[“Vynn and I are used to sharing a room. That would be easiest.”|Chapter4.23V]]
[[“As his Champion, I should share a room with Az’Lean.”|Chapter4.23A]]
[[“Would you be up for sharing a room with me, Thianne?”|Chapter4.23T]]
[[“I’d like to get a room for myself if at all possible.”|Chapter4.23x]]<<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
"I suppose such occurences will be even more common from now on; best to get used to sharing quarters," Az'Lean says with a satisfied nod. No one else raises any objections, though Vynn doesn't hide the teasing nature of their smile.
With that decision made, you head downstairs in search of Lord Westwale. The servant from earlier is already waiting for you and the floor has been cleared of any puddles. “Lord Westwale awaits you in the dining room. If you would follow me.”
He guides you through an archway into a wide open space. A fireplace in the corner fills the room with warmth but only dim light. A massive wooden table stands in the centre, carved in such a way that it looks like the stump of an ancient tree. High-backed chairs are arranged around it and on one of them sits an elderly man. Despite his portly figure and balding head, there is a fierce sternness to his features and his beard is sharply cut and groomed.
The man doesn’t get up as you approach and you notice that his left leg is quite a bit shorter than his right. He does gesture for you to join him at the table, however.
“I know my sister left to get support from the castle but I didn’t think the prince himself would grace me with his presence,” the man says. “I am Lord Threnn Westwale, at your service.”
“Thank you for the courtesy of welcoming us into your home without invitation. I’m hoping to resolve this issue as soon as possible and not burden you with a prolonged stay,” Az’Lean says as he takes a seat next to Lord Westwale. The rest of you sit down around the table as well.
Lord Westwale nods curtly. “Then in the name of expediency, let us discuss the matter over dinner. How much has my sister told you already?”
As Az’Lean recounts what Lady Westwale told you before, dinner is set out in front of you. It is a simple mutton stew with some pickled vegetables and bread to the side, likely prepared with what was available on such short notice. It’s good to fill your belly after such an arduous ride though, and you are glad that Az’Lean is doing all the talking for now.
“While these attacks have been primarily focused along the border, the villages in the vicinity have been targeted as well. There is regular travel between them and the border for resource gathering,” Lord Westwale explains. “Travelling around on their own, they are easy targets for this blasted Wild Hunt. There have also been reports of magical attacks over long distances, buildings getting set on fire and the like. Last I heard there weren’t many casualties yet, but it’s getting worse by the minute.”
“We plan to leave as soon as the sun rises,” Thianne says and fishes a folded piece of parchment out of her pocket. “Could you mark on our map where this Wild Hunt has last been spotted and where the worst of these attacks have been?”
“Have you any plan on how to deal with this? I could lend you guards if you need help,” Lord Westwale offers as he circles a certain area of his territory on the map.
Az’Lean is quick to dismiss him. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We will use magic to erect a barrier along the border.”
Lord Westwale nods slowly, as if trying to imagine what such a thing might even look like.
“Maybe you could spare some resources to help these villages get back on their feet when this is over?” Vynn suggests. “If your guards were present in the aftermath, it might help them feel more secure.”
Neither Az’Lean nor Lord Westwale seem bothered by Vynn’s advice, so you decide to add something as well. “We’ll also need to keep monitoring the situation, even after we have secured the border.”
“I see. Then I will await your return before sending in my men to oversee the aftermath. I sincerely hope this barrier you speak of will be sufficient.” He sounds somewhat skeptical, but doesn’t oppose your plan.
You finish your dinner quickly, all of you ready to get some rest in preparation for tomorrow. Lord Westwale turns out to be even more difficult to converse with than Lady Westwale, though in a situation like this his professional disposition is greatly appreciated. Once you have finished eating, a servant brings a cane to Lord Westwale and he slowly gets up.
“I’ll instruct them to wake you at dawn, and breakfast will already be waiting for you,” he says as he shifts his weight onto his right leg and the cane. “If you’ll excuse me.” Slowly, he retreats through a door near the main entrance.
The four of you head back upstairs and into your respective guestrooms.
You wonder whether sharing a room with Az’Lean was the right idea. As soon as you are alone, you both immediately declare: “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”
“I can’t let <i>the prince</i> sleep on the floor,” you argue, already feeling tired and frustrated enough as it is. “It goes against everything I stand for.”
“I’m the reason you had to come here and ride for hours through the rain. It’s only right that I let you rest,” he counters.
You sigh. “No, the reason I am here is because a group of fae have attacked innocent people. Even if I weren’t Champion, I’d still care about that.”
Az’Lean’s face falls. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you weren’t acting out of genuine kindness and care for our kingdom. Of course you are. But all the more reason for you to take the bed. You deserve it.”
Now it’s your turn to look taken aback. “So do you, Az’Lean.”
He offers you a slight half-smile. “It wouldn’t be proper if I were to suggest it, and I would feel like I coerced you even if you agreed, but- but-” He trails off and looks at you, judging your reaction. “There is, I suppose, enough room for two people. In this bed.”
You glance at the bed. He’s right, it’s the standard size for a couple. <i>A couple.</i>
“Sharing a bed with you might be worse than making you sleep on the floor,” you say through gritted teeth. “You’re putting me in a difficult situation, your majesty.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to suggest it! Maybe I should go share a room with Thianne, after all. She’d let me sleep on the floor.” He looks like he’s actually considering it, and you can’t have that.
“Fine. Let’s share. The bed,” you say, even though every fibre of your being is screaming at you for it. It’s improper, it’s dangerous, and most of all, you are a changeling and he doesn’t know. What if sharing a bed with a fae is against his boundaries? What if you accidentally switch to your changeling form while you sleep? If he woke up and you looked like that, he’d run you through out of fear alone.
This is a terrible idea, but the thought of you getting a nice, warm bed while he has to take the floor is even more sickening. He deserves the bed.
Awkwardly, with all the grace of two deer on a frozen lake, the two of you climb into bed. Az’Lean is lying to the right of you, stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling. Would it sound weird if you told him to relax? Probably.
You decide the best course of action is to focus on yourself. Despite how weird it is, sharing a bed with Az’Lean is the perfect distraction your harrowed mind needs right now. You can’t worry about the conflict with the fae and your part in it when you’re too busy worrying about the prince beside you, and what it will be like when you wake up next to him.
In the end, you fall into a restless sleep and wake up feeling more exhausted than before. By the looks of it, Az’Lean didn’t fare much better, but the shy smile he gives you when you wake up almost makes it all worth it. Maybe next time you’ll be more comfortable with each other. You catch the thought as it forms and shove it far back. <i>Next time?</i>
There isn’t much time to dwell on anything, good or bad, as you gear up, wolf down a small breakfast, and head to the tavern’s stables to retrieve your horses. At least Faiche seems to be doing better after a night of rest.
“I’ve decided on a route. Are we ready to head out?” Az’Lean asks as he mounts Tàmh.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Vynn says with a shrug.
[[You nod in agreement. “We don’t have time to waste.”|Chapter4.24]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
She stares at you for a moment as if to make sure that you are serious, before shrugging. "Sure, why not. I don't particularly mind."
Az'Lean seems surprised by that but he decides not to comment on it, while Vynn makes no such attempt to hide their teasing smile. You do not look forward to their questions in the morning.
With that decision made, you head downstairs in search of Lord Westwale. The servant from earlier is already waiting for you and the floor has been cleared of any puddles. “Lord Westwale awaits you in the dining room. If you would follow me.”
He guides you through an archway into a wide open space. A fireplace in the corner fills the room with warmth but only dim light. A massive wooden table stands in the centre, carved in such a way that it looks like the stump of an ancient tree. High-backed chairs are arranged around it and on one of them sits an elderly man. Despite his portly figure and balding head, there is a fierce sternness to his features and his beard is sharply cut and groomed.
The man doesn’t get up as you approach and you notice that his left leg is quite a bit shorter than his right. He does gesture for you to join him at the table, however.
“I know my sister left to get support from the castle but I didn’t think the prince himself would grace me with his presence,” the man says. “I am Lord Threnn Westwale, at your service.”
“Thank you for the courtesy of welcoming us into your home without invitation. I’m hoping to resolve this issue as soon as possible and not burden you with a prolonged stay,” Az’Lean says as he takes a seat next to Lord Westwale. The rest of you sit down around the table as well.
Lord Westwale nods curtly. “Then in the name of expediency, let us discuss the matter over dinner. How much has my sister told you already?”
As Az’Lean recounts what Lady Westwale told you before, dinner is set out in front of you. It is a simple mutton stew with some pickled vegetables and bread to the side, likely prepared with what was available on such short notice. It’s good to fill your belly after such an arduous ride though, and you are glad that Az’Lean is doing all the talking for now.
“While these attacks have been primarily focused along the border, the villages in the vicinity have been targeted as well. There is regular travel between them and the border for resource gathering,” Lord Westwale explains. “Travelling around on their own, they are easy targets for this blasted Wild Hunt. There have also been reports of magical attacks over long distances, buildings getting set on fire and the like. Last I heard there weren’t many casualties yet, but it’s getting worse by the minute.”
“We plan to leave as soon as the sun rises,” Thianne says and fishes a folded piece of parchment out of her pocket. “Could you mark on our map where this Wild Hunt has last been spotted and where the worst of these attacks have been?”
“Have you any plan on how to deal with this? I could lend you guards if you need help,” Lord Westwale offers as he circles a certain area of his territory on the map.
Az’Lean is quick to dismiss him. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We will use magic to erect a barrier along the border.”
Lord Westwale nods slowly, as if trying to imagine what such a thing might even look like.
“Maybe you could spare some resources to help these villages get back on their feet when this is over?” Vynn suggests. “If your guards were present in the aftermath, it might help them feel more secure.”
Neither Az’Lean nor Lord Westwale seem bothered by Vynn’s advice, so you decide to add something as well. “We’ll also need to keep monitoring the situation, even after we have secured the border.”
“I see. Then I will await your return before sending in my men to oversee the aftermath. I sincerely hope this barrier you speak of will be sufficient.” He sounds somewhat skeptical, but doesn’t oppose your plan.
You finish your dinner quickly, all of you ready to get some rest in preparation for tomorrow. Lord Westwale turns out to be even more difficult to converse with than Lady Westwale, though in a situation like this his professional disposition is greatly appreciated. Once you have finished eating, a servant brings a cane to Lord Westwale and he slowly gets up.
“I’ll instruct them to wake you at dawn, and breakfast will already be waiting for you,” he says as he shifts his weight onto his right leg and the cane. “If you’ll excuse me.” Slowly, he retreats through a door near the main entrance.
The four of you head back upstairs and into your respective guestrooms.
You wonder whether sharing a room with Thianne was the right idea. As soon as you are alone, she throws herself onto the bed and says: “You’ll be fine takin’ the floor, right?”
“I guess,” you say, feeling tired enough as it is. “Though that bed is easily large enough for us both.”
Thianne blinks up at you. “You want to?”
You blink right back. “Would I rather sleep in a warm, soft bed than on the floor? Of course I would!”
With a sigh, she scoots over. “It’s not like I mind, I just didn’t expect this. Usually people insist on takin’ the floor, because it’s the noble thing to do.”
You plop down next to her. “Maybe I would have offered that if you didn’t take the bed for granted. Now I’m just too tired to care.”
She barks a dry laugh. “That’s the proper attitude. I always feel like that, just too tired to care.”
“Pull a lot of all-nighters, do you?” you ask as you get comfortable.
“Naturally. I wouldn’t be as accomplished as I am otherwise. Magical power, knowledge - it’s all gained through time spent late at night, obsessing over something’ and not bein’ able to sleep until you’re done.” Thianne all but vanishes under the cover, only the top of her head poking out. “Tonight’s not like that though. We should sleep if we can.”
You hum in agreement, trying to relax. Despite how slightly awkward it is, sharing a bed with Thianne is the perfect distraction your harrowed mind needs right now. You can’t worry about the conflict with the fae and your part in it when you’re too busy worrying about the woman beside you, and what it will be like when you wake up next to her.
In the end, you fall into a restless sleep and wake up feeling more exhausted than before. Thianne doesn’t seem to have had the same problem - in fact she doesn’t seem to want to wake up at all. You end up poking her a few times, before she suddenly slaps down a runestone and creates a protective ward around her side of the bed.
“You’ve got the right idea but it’s the border where we need to do that,” you say as loud as you can while getting ready.
“Piss off,” she grumbles, but there’s a small smile playing around her lips when she does end up crawling out of bed. You can’t help the warmth that slowly spreads through you at the sight of it. Thianne doesn’t smile often, after all.
There isn’t much time to dwell on anything, good or bad, as you gear up, wolf down a small breakfast, and head to the tavern’s stables to retrieve your horses. At least Faiche seems to be doing better after a night of rest.
“I’ve decided on a route. Are we ready to head out?” Az’Lean asks as he mounts Tàmh.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Vynn says with a shrug.
[[You nod in agreement. “We don’t have time to waste.”|Chapter4.24]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
"That is the easiest solution," Vynn agrees and no one else raises any objections.
With that decision made, you head downstairs in search of Lord Westwale. The servant from earlier is already waiting for you and the floor has been cleared of any puddles. “Lord Westwale awaits you in the dining room. If you would follow me.”
He guides you through an archway into a wide open space. A fireplace in the corner fills the room with warmth but only dim light. A massive wooden table stands in the centre, carved in such a way that it looks like the stump of an ancient tree. High-backed chairs are arranged around it and on one of them sits an elderly man. Despite his portly figure and balding head, there is a fierce sternness to his features and his beard is sharply cut and groomed.
The man doesn’t get up as you approach and you notice that his left leg is quite a bit shorter than his right. He does gesture for you to join him at the table, however.
“I know my sister left to get support from the castle but I didn’t think the prince himself would grace me with his presence,” the man says. “I am Lord Threnn Westwale, at your service.”
“Thank you for the courtesy of welcoming us into your home without invitation. I’m hoping to resolve this issue as soon as possible and not burden you with a prolonged stay,” Az’Lean says as he takes a seat next to Lord Westwale. The rest of you sit down around the table as well.
Lord Westwale nods curtly. “Then in the name of expediency, let us discuss the matter over dinner. How much has my sister told you already?”
As Az’Lean recounts what Lady Westwale told you before, dinner is set out in front of you. It is a simple mutton stew with some pickled vegetables and bread to the side, likely prepared with what was available on such short notice. It’s good to fill your belly after such an arduous ride though, and you are glad that Az’Lean is doing all the talking for now.
“While these attacks have been primarily focused along the border, the villages in the vicinity have been targeted as well. There is regular travel between them and the border for resource gathering,” Lord Westwale explains. “Travelling around on their own, they are easy targets for this blasted Wild Hunt. There have also been reports of magical attacks over long distances, buildings getting set on fire and the like. Last I heard there weren’t many casualties yet, but it’s getting worse by the minute.”
“We plan to leave as soon as the sun rises,” Thianne says and fishes a folded piece of parchment out of her pocket. “Could you mark on our map where this Wild Hunt has last been spotted and where the worst of these attacks have been?”
“Have you any plan on how to deal with this? I could lend you guards if you need help,” Lord Westwale offers as he circles a certain area of his territory on the map.
Az’Lean is quick to dismiss him. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We will use magic to erect a barrier along the border.”
Lord Westwale nods slowly, as if trying to imagine what such a thing might even look like.
“Maybe you could spare some resources to help these villages get back on their feet when this is over?” Vynn suggests. “If your guards were present in the aftermath, it might help them feel more secure.”
Neither Az’Lean nor Lord Westwale seem bothered by Vynn’s advice, so you decide to add something as well. “We’ll also need to keep monitoring the situation, even after we have secured the border.”
“I see. Then I will await your return before sending in my men to oversee the aftermath. I sincerely hope this barrier you speak of will be sufficient.” He sounds somewhat skeptical, but doesn’t oppose your plan.
You finish your dinner quickly, all of you ready to get some rest in preparation for tomorrow. Lord Westwale turns out to be even more difficult to converse with than Lady Westwale, though in a situation like this his professional disposition is greatly appreciated. Once you have finished eating, a servant brings a cane to Lord Westwale and he slowly gets up.
“I’ll instruct them to wake you at dawn, and breakfast will already be waiting for you,” he says as he shifts his weight onto his right leg and the cane. “If you’ll excuse me.” Slowly, he retreats through a door near the main entrance.
The four of you head back upstairs and into your respective guestrooms.
You are glad to be rooming with Vynn. It’s easy and familiar, and neither of you has any reason to feel embarrassed when you climb into bed together. After an arduous ride through the rain like this, the idea that one of you could sleep on the floor doesn’t even occur.
As you lie there listening to the rain and Vynn’s steady breathing, however, a thought occurs to you. What if there is a possibility that you switch to your changeling appearance on accident while in deep sleep? No matter how much you trust Vynn, you’ve no doubt they’d stab you if they woke up next to you and you looked like a- like a fae.
Just imagining it is almost enough to make you climb out of the bed, but you force yourself to stay still. It has never happened before and it won’t happen now. You just have to believe in that.
You can feel Vynn shifting in their sleep, the warmth of them beside you, the ghost of their breath when they turn around and end up facing in your direction. They look so utterly peaceful while they sleep. You can’t imagine yourself ever looking so at ease again, but you take solace in the fact that they trust you so much that they fell asleep immediately.
Despite your thoughts circling around the conflict with the fae and what you will be faced with tomorrow, again and again and again, you manage to drift off to sleep eventually.
As you expected, your sleep is restless and you wake feeling more exhausted than before. No matter, though, because Vynn greets you with a sleepy smile and a “Hello there, $playername,” and it does wonders to relieve the tension from your shoulders.
There isn’t much time to dwell on anything, good or bad, as you gear up, wolf down a small breakfast, and head to the tavern’s stables to retrieve your horses. At least Faiche seems to be doing better after a night of rest.
“I’ve decided on a route. Are we ready to head out?” Az’Lean asks as he mounts Tàmh.
“Let’s get this over with,” Thianne grumbles. She must not have slept well either.
[[You nod in agreement. “We don’t have time to waste.”|Chapter4.24]]"Then let's do this by rank, I suppose. Az'Lean and $playername get their own rooms and you're with me, Thianne," Vynn says with a grin.
Thianne doesn't seem too enthused about it but doesn't raise any concerns.
With that decision made, you head downstairs in search of Lord Westwale. The servant from earlier is already waiting for you and the floor has been cleared of any puddles. “Lord Westwale awaits you in the dining room. If you would follow me.”
He guides you through an archway into a wide open space. A fireplace in the corner fills the room with warmth but only dim light. A massive wooden table stands in the centre, carved in such a way that it looks like the stump of an ancient tree. High-backed chairs are arranged around it and on one of them sits an elderly man. Despite his portly figure and balding head, there is a fierce sternness to his features and his beard is sharply cut and groomed.
The man doesn’t get up as you approach and you notice that his left leg is quite a bit shorter than his right. He does gesture for you to join him at the table, however.
“I know my sister left to get support from the castle but I didn’t think the prince himself would grace me with his presence,” the man says. “I am Lord Threnn Westwale, at your service.”
“Thank you for the courtesy of welcoming us into your home without invitation. I’m hoping to resolve this issue as soon as possible and not burden you with a prolonged stay,” Az’Lean says as he takes a seat next to Lord Westwale. The rest of you sit down around the table as well.
Lord Westwale nods curtly. “Then in the name of expediency, let us discuss the matter over dinner. How much has my sister told you already?”
As Az’Lean recounts what Lady Westwale told you before, dinner is set out in front of you. It is a simple mutton stew with some pickled vegetables and bread to the side, likely prepared with what was available on such short notice. It’s good to fill your belly after such an arduous ride though, and you are glad that Az’Lean is doing all the talking for now.
“While these attacks have been primarily focused along the border, the villages in the vicinity have been targeted as well. There is regular travel between them and the border for resource gathering,” Lord Westwale explains. “Travelling around on their own, they are easy targets for this blasted Wild Hunt. There have also been reports of magical attacks over long distances, buildings getting set on fire and the like. Last I heard there weren’t many casualties yet, but it’s getting worse by the minute.”
“We plan to leave as soon as the sun rises,” Thianne says and fishes a folded piece of parchment out of her pocket. “Could you mark on our map where this Wild Hunt has last been spotted and where the worst of these attacks have been?”
“Have you any plan on how to deal with this? I could lend you guards if you need help,” Lord Westwale offers as he circles a certain area of his territory on the map.
Az’Lean is quick to dismiss him. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We will use magic to erect a barrier along the border.”
Lord Westwale nods slowly, as if trying to imagine what such a thing might even look like.
“Maybe you could spare some resources to help these villages get back on their feet when this is over?” Vynn suggests. “If your guards were present in the aftermath, it might help them feel more secure.”
Neither Az’Lean nor Lord Westwale seem bothered by Vynn’s advice, so you decide to add something as well. “We’ll also need to keep monitoring the situation, even after we have secured the border.”
“I see. Then I will await your return before sending in my men to oversee the aftermath. I sincerely hope this barrier you speak of will be sufficient.” He sounds somewhat skeptical, but doesn’t oppose your plan.
You finish your dinner quickly, all of you ready to get some rest in preparation for tomorrow. Lord Westwale turns out to be even more difficult to converse with than Lady Westwale, though in a situation like this his professional disposition is greatly appreciated. Once you have finished eating, a servant brings a cane to Lord Westwale and he slowly gets up.
“I’ll instruct them to wake you at dawn, and breakfast will already be waiting for you,” he says as he shifts his weight onto his right leg and the cane. “If you’ll excuse me.” Slowly, he retreats through a door near the main entrance.
The four of you head back upstairs and into your respective guestrooms.
You are glad to have a room to yourself. This whole conflict with the fae has you on edge, and you fear you won’t sleep soundly tonight, too plagued with doubts.
There’s also a part of you that fears what will happen when you’re deep in sleep, entirely unconscious of your actions. What if there is a possibility that you switch to your changeling appearance on accident? No matter how much you trust the others, you’ve no doubt they’d stab you if they woke up next to you and you looked like a- like a fae.
You just can’t risk it, and it doesn’t really matter anyway. As you crawl into bed alone, you hide deep underneath the covers, just listening to the endless rain outside. Hopefully it’ll have stopped come morning.
You wonder what you’ll be faced with. At best, the pain and destruction caused by a group of fae. At worst… Your imagination fills in the blanks and it isn’t kind to you.
As you expected, your sleep is restless and you wake feeling more exhausted than before. No matter, though. There isn’t much time to dwell on anything as you gear up, wolf down a small breakfast, and head to the tavern’s stables to retrieve your horses. At least Faiche seems to be doing better after a night of rest.
“I’ve decided on a route. Are we ready to head out?” Az’Lean asks as he mounts Tàmh.
“Let’s get this over with,” both Vynn and Thianne grumble in unison. They must not have slept well either.
[[You nod in agreement. “We don’t have time to waste.”|Chapter4.24]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Westwale Territory
!!!Year 929, 21st of the Cherry Moon
You leave the Westwale estate behind, soon becoming nothing more than a smudge of grey on the horizon. More empty plains stretch out before you, wet and muddy from last night's rain. The sky is still overcast but you stay relatively dry aside from the occasional slight drizzle. Still, you have to temper your speed lest the hooves of your horses slip or sink in the mire. The mood is sombre in this murky weather and not even Vynn feels like talking. It’s silent safe the clopping of your horses.
After a while, the landscape in front of you changes. The patches of grass turn thicker and the ground more uneven, more puddles than dirt. Gnarled old trees start popping up here and there, and the smell of salt hangs in the air. You must be nearing the border - and the Crimson Marshes.
The first village of interest appears on the horizon soon enough and you notice that you all instinctively speed up. As you come closer, you notice that all of the buildings are made out of bricks - a rarity to be sure. But then you remember that the name Crimson Marshes stems from the red clay that can be found there, and you guess it makes sense that the people here would use it for building.
“Let’s stop here and talk to some people before we head to the border,” Az’Lean says as you all slow down into a trot.
It’s still early in the day, but there are people out and about already. You barely manage to dismount before a small crowd of people approaches you. You wonder if they recognise the prince.
An older man steps forth, turning to Az’Lean with a hopeful expression. “Have you come to investigate the recent attacks?”
“That I have. I am Prince Az’Lean, and these are my trusted companions. We have heard word about the frequent attacks along the border and have come to put a stop to it. Could you tell me all you know about the situation?”
A few curious looks and excited whispers are exchanged among the villagers.
“But of course, your majesty,” the old man says with a clumsy but heartfelt bow. “Our village hasn’t been attacked directly, but a lot of our men who work at the digging site have. There were two casualties and about a dozen wounded.”
“Digging site?” Thianne asks immediately. “You speak of harvestin' the red clay, I assume?”
“That’s right. We sell it and make a nice profit. Unfortunately, it is located directly along the border. The Crimson Marshes are brimming with the stuff, but we don’t dare enter them.” The man winces and hastily adds: “And, of course, we aren’t allowed to just go into the fae lands and do as we please. That’s also why we don’t.”
Az’Lean looks a bit skeptical, but nods. “Would it be possible to speak to some of the people who were attacked?”
A young man shyly raises his hand. “Aye, me, my lord. Devin’s my name.”
“Tell us what happened, Devin.”
“It was a few days ago. We was digging out the clay, as usual. There was ten of us working, at the time. The view into the fae lands is clear from the border, but I don’t know if we were all focused or they used some kind of magic, but we didn’t notice ‘em approach. Suddenly, whole group of them was there. All mounted on horses or beasts. The leader - I thought it was a human at first, but he didn’t have a head. Well, he did have one, but it was tucked under his arm. Scared me shitless, just the sight of him. Anyway, he said something to us, like insults, I guess. We started running and they chased us for a bit.”
“And then they attacked you?” you ask.
Devin nods. “They started throwing magic at us. Some had bows, too. Fireball hit my leg but I kept running. Everywhere’s water so I was fine. Some others were messed up bad though. They stopped chasing us after a certain point. Too scared to properly enter the kingdom, I figure.”
“That’s about what I imagined,” Vynn mumbles.
“You said they didn’t attack your village directly, but some others were. How’s the situation there?” you ask.
Devin shrugs. “I wouldn’t really know. Though we’ve seen smoke on the horizon a few times. Can’t be good.”
“Right. Let’s keep riding towards the border,” Az’Lean announces. “Thank you for your help.”
“A pleasure, your majesty,” Devin says and bows, the other villagers following suit.
You leave the village behind, having a bit of a clearer picture of the situation now. Dread rises within you as you imagine what you will discover in the next village, one of those close to the border. You smell the tragedy before you see it.
The stench of death and ashes hangs in the air - putrid, nauseating. It mixes with the scent of salt and you swear you can taste it upon your tongue.
“Gods,” Vynn mutters before pulling their scarf up over their nose.
“Steel yourselves,” Az’Lean instructs, though he seems a bit nervous himself.
His warning is appreciated, however, and you do your utmost to remain calm, even as the village comes into view. Or what’s left of it. It looks like multiple buildings have been burned down - the ones still standing are all made out of bricks, but even those look damaged. The ground is torn up, and not just from the rain. Gashes run through the dirt, stone walls have crumbled, ravens have made their meal of a slain cow.
The streets are filled with people moving rubble around, trying to build up shelter and tending to those who have lost their homes. Many are injured. A woman is digging what you fear to be a grave.
Your chest feels tight and you grip the reins as hard as you can, willing your hands to not shake.
Thianne exhales slowly. “This is worse than I thought. I don’t want to even ask what happened here.”
Az’Lean’s eyes look dark and distant as he stares at the destruction. “I don’t think we need any more details. Let us ride on - the sooner we deal with the fae, the better.”
“We should help rebuild before we head back to Gaitanis,” you say quietly.
You ride around the village as quietly as possible. Making noise would feel too much like you are disturbing the grief that has settled over this place. A few people notice you and look, but unlike the village before their gazes aren’t hopeful. In their eyes, your help arrives too late.
The border leading to the Crimson Marshes is just beyond the village, in sight of it even. The ground beneath you slowly turns a reddish brown, and although you know it’s from the clay, you can’t help but wonder whether the ground has absorbed the blood that was spilled here.
The border is marked not with a wall, but by a line of rugged stones that stretches from left to right as far as you can see. If you wanted to, you could simply walk across. You spot the digging site as well, though it looks more like a trench, stretching along the border. It’s much deeper than you imagined, partially filled with water and almost a small river at this point. Still easy for a horse to jump across though.
Iron posts have been stuck into the ground, either to mark certain areas of the digging site or to increase its stability, you aren’t sure. Various tools are scattered about, left in a hurry. A few wagons and wheelbarrows lie abandoned by the wayside. The grass around the digging site has been trampled dead, it seems, and only stumps remain of the gnarled old trees.
“It really does look like a warzone,” Vynn says as you all dismount. All of your eyes are peeled, staring into the fae lands ahead of you. There are no signs of movement and it is eerily quiet.
“We should probably decide now what we want to set the barriers to. Just defensive, or lethal?” Thianne asks, already rummaging through the bags on her horse.
“I have decided,” Az’Lean says curtly. “Set them to lethal. It might hurt… ‘innocents’, but then so did they in their attacks.”
“I figured you’d say that,” Thianne says, offering no objections.
Vynn looks more than a little uncomfortable, but they stay quiet.
You wonder which option is the right one.
[[You support Az'Lean's decision.|Chapter4.25A]]
[[You attempt to persuade him to not use the lethal setting.|Chapter4.25B]]<<set $humanity to $humanity + 10>>\
Considering the absolute disregard for innocent life this group of fae has shown, you don’t consider setting the barrier to lethal to be excessive at all. Thianne doesn’t seem to care much either way and Az’Lean’s dark determination is palpable - only Vynn looks like they disagree with this course of action. Their soft brown eyes gaze out at the digging site and the marshes beyond with something like trepidation, but they don’t speak up.
With that, the decision is made, and Thianne begins handing out mabs. “You are all capable of casting magic, so this should be quick. Simply rotate this mechanism to change the runes; this one here is the lethal one.”
Az’Lean looks at the border. “What’s the radius?”
“Twenty paces each direction. So we should set one down every forty- no, every thirty-nine paces to be sure. The ground here is soft, so we could just bury them in the ground, though I worry about rain dislodgin’ them.” Thianne takes one of the mabs and kneels down, running her hand along the stones that mark the border. “Or we could try and wedge them between these stones. It’ll be more work though.”
“If we’re doing this, we should make sure to do it properly,” you say. “Let’s set them between the stones.”
“How do we activate them?” Vynn asks quietly.
“Once they’re in place, just give them a little nudge with your magic. It’ll trigger the enchantments I’ve placed upon them, and then they should run on their own. Let me demonstrate.”
Thianne pries a wedge between two heavy stones with a small sickle, not worrying about getting her hands dirty. She takes one of the mabs and pushes it into the gap. You can hear it scraping along the stone, but apparently that’s not a concern, for Thianne keeps going until it is nestled deeply in the muddy ground, stuck fast between the stones. She proceeds to hold out her hand above it, squinting in concentration. A spark of light travels along her fingertips before it finds the mab, lighting up the runes within the glass orb. The lamp-like object flickers to life. The barrier itself is completely invisible and you can only assume that it has worked.
“The mabs emit a bit of light, so they will be visible. The barrier, however, is completely indetectable,” she says as she gets up.
Az’Lean looks satisfied. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. These lights clearly mark the border, while the consequences for crossing it aren’t apparent.”
“Won’t the lights attract even more fae?” Vynn asks.
“All the better,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “They’ll learn quickly what it means.”
Something dark passes over Vynn’s face and you can see them taking a deep breath. “Of course.” You know how much Vynn detests violence, so their reaction isn’t surprising. Still, you wish there was something you could say. Nothing comes to mind.
The four of you get to work. Even though splitting up would have been faster, it is much safer to move as a group. Still, there are a good few miles of ground to cover. You don’t quite have enough mabs for the entire border along Westwale territory, but you make sure to cover the area near the digging site and the affected villages.
“If this works, we’ll need to start mass producing these things,” Az’Lean says at some point. “It won’t do much good to only outfit Westwale territory; it might just push the fae to attack somewhere else. We’ll need these along the entire border of Gaiapeia as soon as possible.”
Thianne sighs wearily. “I’d have to teach the other sorcerers how to make them. We’ll need your father’s approval for that.”
Az’Lean spreads out his arms. “This will show him the effectiveness. There will be nothing he can say against proven success.”
The four of you work for a few hours until you finally place and activate the last mab at your disposal. You return to the digging site where you started.
“We’ll need to make sure it works,” Az’Lean says. “We can’t leave here before we do.”
Thianne frowns. “And how are we supposed to do that? I don’t suppose you carry a sacrificial fairy around in your pack?”
“We might have to wait until one of them shows up here on their own,” you say. “Though who knows how long that might take.”
“Maybe we could speed it up. Lure one of them here,” Az’Lean says. He looks around searchingly. “We need something to get their attention.”
“We could start diggin’,” Thianne says sarcastically as she kicks one of the shovels left behind.
Az’Lean’s gaze wanders out into the fae lands. Compared to this side of the border, there are enough trees left to make a treeline. Someone could be hiding there, watching you as you speak.
“We should cross the border,” Az’Lean suggests suddenly, something devious flickering in his eyes. “They’re bound to react to that. Then when they come after us, we rush back over here. If they follow us, we’ll see if the barrier works.”
Your heart skips a beat as you realise what this plan means for you. The runes would recognise what you are, surely they are not so easily duped by appearances. If the barrier does work, you’ll be killed by it.
“Maybe not all of us should cross the border,” you say. Your voice wavers a little, but you can mask it easily as concern for Az’Lean’s safety. “It is a big risk, after all.”
“I agree with $playername,” Thianne says. “The prince should stay here. No need to do something stupid. I’m not a very fast runner, especially not in a bog like this. It would be best if one of you knights could handle this.”
You turn to Vynn with desperation, though it quickly turns into despair. Vynn hates putting their life on the line, they hate fighting, they hate the fact that you’ve set the barriers to lethal. There is no way that they will volunteer for this, and if you ask them to, everyone will wonder why. You are the Champion. You are stronger than Vynn. You should be the one doing this. There is no conceivable excuse you can give to avoid this responsibility.
It is either death or casting suspicion on yourself. Maybe you should just hope that the barrier doesn’t work, even if that meant all of this was for nothing and that more humans would die.
“I can do it.”
Your heart skips a beat a second time at what you just heard. There’s nothing you can do but stare at Vynn in disbelief. “What?”
“I said I can do it,” Vynn repeats. You lock eyes with them and the expression on their face squeezes all the remaining air out of your lungs. Vynn looks <i>amused</i>. You cannot fathom what they would have to be amused about in this situation. It’s like your brain just can’t put two and two together.
Vynn tugs at a curl of their hair. “I’m quick on my feet and I know you’ll cover me should things go south. $playername should stay by Az’Lean’s side, so I’ll do it. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
[[They resolutely march towards the border, squeezing your arm as they pass you.|Chapter4.26A]]<<set $humanity to $humanity - 5>>\
“I’d suggest not using the lethal option. The effect will be the same, but without killing innocent fae. If we aggravate the fae, they will strike back harder.”
Az’Lean slowly turns towards you. His blue eyes look as overcast as the actual sky, and his brow is furrowed deeply. “They didn’t seem to care that they hurt innocent villagers. Why should we?”
You don’t back down. “We ought to be better than them. We came here to protect people, not to instigate an actual war. Because that is what will happen if we answer violence with violence.”
Thianne and Vynn silently watch your exchange; the air is charged with tension. It’s clear that Az’Lean didn’t expect his opinion to be challenged.
He clenches his right hand into a fist. “They’ll think we’re scared of conflict. They’ll keep trying to take the barrier down if they can approach it safely. If the barrier kills even one of them, they’ll think twice about attacking us again.”
You take a deep breath, this is harder than you thought it would be. Having his eyes bore into you like that. What does he see? What does he think of you now? But you have to keep trying. For his sake, too.
“Maybe we <i>should</i> be scared of conflict,” you say. “It is something to be avoided if there are other alternatives. And there are, in this case.”
Az’Lean takes a step closer. “Just in this case?”
You hold your ground and don’t break eye contact. “I swear if a fae suddenly came charging at us, I wouldn’t hesitate to strike them down. But I won’t go out of my way to harm them.”
He sighs. It sounds tired. “You are kind, $playername. But I don’t know if that is always a good thing.”
“Even if it doesn’t always work out, that’s no reason to stop trying.” It’s what you have to believe, and you know he wants to believe it too. Even if something happened that makes it difficult for him.
Az’Lean tilts his head. The shadow lifts from his eyes and it’s like staring into the sun, bright and blinding.
His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, fist no longer clenched. “You are right. Thank you for speaking up.”
You rest a hand on his arm as well. “I’m here to protect you, and not just from physical threats.”
“Cute,” Thianne says with a smirk. “So just the defensive barriers then? Works for me.”
Vynn doubles over, letting out a large, drawn out breath, before standing up straight again. “Right. Look at it this way, your majesty - we can always come back and change the mabs,” they say. “But we can’t take back any deaths caused by them. So for now, this should be fine.”
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “I can see the wisdom in that. It’s decided then, we’ll just use the defensive capabilities of the barrier. Thianne, what must we do? And how big is the radius?”
“You are all capable of casting magic, so this should be quick. Simply rotate this mechanism to change the runes; this one here is the defensive one,” Thianne says as she begins handing out mabs. “The radius is twenty paces in each direction. So we should set one down every forty- no, every thirty-nine paces to be sure. The ground here is soft, so we could just bury them in the ground, though I worry about rain dislodgin’ them.”
Thianne takes one of the mabs and kneels down, running her hand along the stones that mark the border. “Or we could try and wedge them between these stones. It’ll be more work though.”
“If we’re doing this, we should make sure to do it properly,” you say. “Let’s set them between the stones.”
“How do we activate them?” Vynn asks curiously.
“Once they’re in place, just give them a little nudge with your magic. It’ll trigger the enchantments I’ve placed upon them, and then they should run on their own. Let me demonstrate.”
Thianne pries a wedge between two heavy stones with a small sickle, not worrying about getting her hands dirty. She takes one of the mabs and pushes it into the gap. You can hear it scraping along the stone, but apparently that’s not a concern, for Thianne keeps going until it is nestled deeply in the muddy ground, stuck fast between the stones. She proceeds to hold out her hand above it, squinting in concentration. A spark of light travels along her fingertips before it finds the mab, lighting up the runes within the glass orb. The lamp-like object flickers to life. The barrier itself is completely invisible and you can only assume that it has worked.
“The mabs emit a bit of light, so they will be visible. The barrier, however, is completely indetectable,” she says as she gets up.
“That’s fine,” Az’Lean says.
The four of you get to work. Even though splitting up would have been faster, it is much safer to move as a group. Still, there are a good few miles of ground to cover. You don’t quite have enough mabs for the entire border along Westwale territory, but you make sure to cover the area near the digging site and the affected villages.
“If this works, we’ll need to start mass producing these things,” Az’Lean says at some point. “It won’t do much good to only outfit Westwale territory; it might just push the fae to attack somewhere else. We’ll need these along the entire border of Gaiapeia as soon as possible.”
Thianne sighs wearily. “I’d have to teach the other sorcerers how to make them. We’ll need your father’s approval for that.”
Az’Lean spreads out his arms. “This will show him the effectiveness. There will be nothing he can say against proven success.”
The four of you work for a few hours until you finally place and activate the last mab at your disposal. You return to the digging site where you started.
“We’ll need to make sure it works,” Vynn says. “It would be bad if we just left and did nothing more than install a few lights.”
Thianne frowns. “And how are we supposed to do that?”
“We might have to wait until one of them shows up here on their own,” you say. “Though who knows how long that might take.”
“Maybe we could speed it up. Lure one of them here,” Az’Lean says. He looks around searchingly. “We need something to get their attention.”
“We could start diggin’,” Thianne says sarcastically as she kicks one of the shovels left behind.
Az’Lean’s gaze wanders out into the fae lands. Compared to this side of the border, there are enough trees left to make a treeline. Someone could be hiding there, watching you as you speak.
“We should cross the border,” Az’Lean suggests suddenly, arms crossed in front of his chest. “They’re bound to react to that. Then when they come after us, we rush back over here. If they follow us, we’ll see if the barrier works.”
Your heart skips a beat as you realise what this plan means for you. The runes would recognise what you are, surely they are not so easily duped by appearances. If the barrier does work, you’ll be stuck on the other side of it.
“Maybe not all of us should cross the border,” you say. Your voice wavers a little, but you can mask it easily as concern for Az’Lean’s safety. “It is a big risk, after all.”
“I agree with $playername,” Thianne says. “The prince should stay here. No need to do something stupid. I’m not a very fast runner, especially not in a bog like this. It would be best if one of you knights could handle this.”
You turn to Vynn with desperation, though it quickly turns into despair. Vynn hates putting their life on the line, they hate fighting. There is no way that they will volunteer for this, and if you ask them to, everyone will wonder why. You are the Champion. You are stronger than Vynn. You should be the one doing this. There is no conceivable excuse you can give to avoid this responsibility.
It is either outing yourself or casting major suspicion on yourself. Maybe you should just hope that the barrier doesn’t work, even if that meant all of this was for nothing and that more humans would die.
“I can do it.”
Your heart skips a beat a second time at what you just heard. There’s nothing you can do but stare at Vynn in disbelief. “What?”
“I said I can do it,” Vynn repeats. You lock eyes with them and the expression on their face squeezes all the remaining air out of your lungs. Vynn looks <i>amused</i>. You cannot fathom what they would have to be amused about in this situation. It’s like your brain just can’t put two and two together.
Vynn tugs at a curl of their hair. “I’m quick on my feet and I know you’ll cover me should things go south. $playername should stay by Az’Lean’s side, so I’ll do it. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
[[They resolutely march towards the border, squeezing your arm as they pass you.|Chapter4.26B]]With one large step, Vynn crosses the border into the Crimson Marshes. They walk until they are knee deep in water, a few paces away. Slowly, they raise their hand out in front of them and start casting some of their water magic. The grimy water around them ripples and bends, making waves and elaborate shapes, lashing out. Vynn directs the water at the tree line, disturbing the foliage and a few crows that had been perching there.
“Will this be enough to draw their attention?” Thianne wonders aloud.
For a while, it seems that Vynn’s attempts at disturbing the peace aren’t enough. It comes as a surprise when you suddenly spot something moving behind the trees, frantically up and down. Vynn releases their magical hold on the water and tenses, eyes focused intently on the movement.
A figure appears behind one of the gnarled trees. It is a pixie, a fae the size of a small child with red dragonfly-like wings. She is wearing a soft dress that trails in the water below her as she hovers nervously in one spot, small but claw-like hands gripping a branch tightly. Her eyes are completely white, like two moons, and her skin and hair are both the same reddish colour as her wings.
This is the…<i>fae</i> you will be killing if all goes according to plan.
You watch as Vynn takes a deep breath, their eyes locked with the pixie. She doesn’t look like she’ll be chasing Vynn anywhere, more cautious than anything.
“Let’s move back,” Az’Lean whispers, and the three of you return to your horses, acting like you’re not concerned about the pixie.
You can’t quite hear what Vynn is doing, if they are saying anything, but it looks like they might be. A jet of water shoots out and cuts the branch of one of the trees. Is Vynn trying to provoke her by harming the surroundings? Whatever they are doing, it seems to be working.
The pixie raises her arms and darts forward, zipping through the air. Vynn doesn’t waste any time and breaks out into a run, quickly retreating behind the border - behind the barrier.
You watch intently what happens next.
The pixie follows quickly, not much more than a red blur in the air. You don’t know what you expected would happen when she reaches the barrier. Just stop and fall over dead? It’s not like that at all.
It’s violent. She smacks into the invisible barrier, hard, and starts convulsing and thrashing, clearly in pain. She screams, loud and piercing, before she falls silent and her body drops into the mud below. Her body keeps jolting as if she were being electrified. It keeps going and going until something pops with a terrible squelching sound and blood begins to pool around her. It mixes with the water and the mud and the clay. Her body lies still. You are glad that you can’t see her face from here.
Vynn is stumbling past you, getting as far away from the corpse as possible, before throwing up at the side of the road. Thianne’s face is impassive and you wonder whether her pride at the success of this experiment outweighs the brutality of what you just witnessed. Az’Lean looks as determined as ever, though his eyes are far, far away. It scares you more than anything.
You yourself feel strangely distant, though you are certain it will hit you later. You’ve killed people before, human bandits and dangerous fae alike, but something like this, that kills automatically, indiscriminately, without input - it is much more horrific. It is a terrible, terrible weapon, and you are glad Thianne hasn’t told anyone else about this.
“It works. Let’s get out of here,” Thianne says. “I can’t…” She trails off abruptly, her amber eyes going wide with shock. You follow her line of sight back to the tree line, expecting another pixie to have shown up.
At first, you can’t spot what Thianne is gaping at, but then you see a glint of something in the distance. It’s the tip of a halberd, and as you follow the weapon down with your eyes, you see the person holding it. It is a man, standing up to his waist in the water, dressed in black lace that clings tightly to his body. In his right hand he is holding the halberd, half leaning against it, and in his left hand… He is holding a head. His own head presumably, which is clearly missing from where it’s supposed to be, tucked safely under his arm. He is deathly pale and his hair is long and white, but you can’t make out any other features besides that.
“A Dullahan,” you say. “Might be the leader of the Wild Hunt.”
“We’ve nothing to fear,” Az’Lean says. “Though it doesn’t look like he plans to come any closer.”
“We should leave,” Vynn says, still wiping their mouth. “What I mean is - I’m leaving.”
No one can disagree with that notion. No one wants to talk about this any further.
[[The ride back to the Westwale estate is silent.|Chapter4.27A]]With one large step, Vynn crosses the border into the Crimson Marshes. They walk until they are knee deep in water, a few paces away. Slowly, they raise their hand out in front of them and start casting some of their water magic. The grimy water around them ripples and bends, making waves and elaborate shapes, lashing out. Vynn directs the water at the tree line, disturbing the foliage and a few crows that had been perching there.
“Will this be enough to draw their attention?” Thianne wonders aloud.
For a while, it seems that Vynn’s attempts at disturbing the peace aren’t enough. It comes as a surprise when you suddenly spot something moving behind the trees, frantically up and down. Vynn releases their magical hold on the water and tenses, eyes focused intently on the movement.
A figure appears behind one of the gnarled trees. It is a pixie, a fae the size of a small child with red dragonfly-like wings. She is wearing a soft dress that trails in the water below her as she hovers nervously in one spot, small but claw-like hands gripping a branch tightly. Her eyes are completely white, like two moons, and her skin and hair are both the same reddish colour as her wings.
This is the fae that will hopefully be stopped by the barrier if all goes according to plan.
You watch as Vynn takes a deep breath, their eyes locked with the pixie. She doesn’t look like she’ll be chasing Vynn anywhere, more cautious than anything.
“Let’s move back,” Az’Lean whispers, and the three of you return to your horses, acting like you’re not concerned about the pixie.
You can’t quite hear what Vynn is doing, if they are saying anything, but it looks like they might be. A jet of water shoots out and cuts the branch of one of the trees. Is Vynn trying to provoke her by harming the surroundings? Whatever they are doing, it seems to be working.
The pixie raises her arms and darts forward, zipping through the air. Vynn doesn’t waste any time and breaks out into a run, quickly retreating behind the border - behind the barrier.
You watch intently what happens next.
The pixie keeps chasing after Vynn, a red blur dashing through the air, before she suddenly smacks into the invisible barrier. She presses her tiny hands against it, shaking her head in a daze. It doesn’t seem like she was hurt too bad, though you don’t know how resilient a pixie truly is.
Vynn joins you over by the horses, and the four of you watch as the pixie keeps trying to cross the barrier to no avail. She bangs her hands against it, kicks it for good measure, before trying to gnaw at it with her sharp teeth. It looks like she is trapped behind a pane of glass, reminiscent of a dragonfly stuck in a jar.
“Looks like it works,” Vynn says with a satisfied nod. “Does that mean we can leave now?”
Thianne shrugs, already starting to pack up. “I guess so. Or is there anything else, Az’Lean?”
The prince is still looking at the pixie, an unreadably mask slipped neatly over his face. You’ve half a mind to ask him what he’s thinking, but he shakes himself out of it before you get the chance.
“Right, we should go and report to Lord…” He suddenly trails off, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Wait. There’s something else here. Behind the trees.”
You follow his line of sight to the tree line where the pixie had first emerged from. At first, you don’t spot anything other than water and plants, but then you see a glint of something in the distance. It’s the tip of a halberd, and as you follow the weapon down with your eyes, you see the person holding it. It is a man, standing up to his waist in the water, dressed in black lace that clings tightly to his body. In his right hand he is holding the halberd, half leaning against it, and in his left hand… He is holding a head. His own head presumably, which is clearly missing from where it’s supposed to be, tucked safely under his arm. He is deathly pale and his hair is long and white, but you can’t make out any other features besides that.
“A Dullahan,” you say. “Might be the leader of the Wild Hunt.”
“No way he’s gettin’ through the barrier,” Thianne says with utmost confidence. “Though it doesn’t look like he plans to come any closer regardless.”
“Let’s hope he got the message and stops trying to attack,” Vynn says.
Az’Lean nods. “Even with the barrier, Lord Westwale will have to keep checking along this border for any sort of movements. Let us return to him for now.”
[[It’s time to leave the border behind, safely separated into humans and fae.|Chapter4.27B]]Lord Westwale eagerly awaits your return, as does a large, hearty dinner. You explain to him in detail what you saw in the villages, how you set up the barrier, and that you spotted a Dullahan across the border.
"That does sound like what my men described as the leader of this Wild Hunt. You say he just stood there? I hope this barrier is enough to make him give up. Other territories will have to strengthen their borders as well, just in case he'll go looking for a new victim," Lord Westwale says with a weary sigh. "Though I must say, I quite approve of what you decided to do. This barrier should be quite the deterrent for any fae in the area."
Az'Lean nods. "The next step will be helping those villages rebuild and staying vigilant. I will leave that in your hands, Lord Westwale. We must return to the castle and urge my father to allow for mass production of the barrier."
"I see no reason for the king to refuse. In any case, I will send you a messager in a few days with a detailed report on how the situation proceeds. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Lord Westwale asks as he fold his hands on the table.
"If I may," Thianne cuts in, "I'd suggest strikin' a deal for regular maintanence of the barriers. I'd prefer you rely on my services only, at least until more territories are outfitted with my barriers. Simply put, I don't trust just any sorcerer or mage with them."
Lord Westwale inclinces his head. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement, milady."
A few more details are discussed before this mission is offically deemed concluded and you are setting out once more, leaving Westwale territory behind. Hopefully safer and more peaceful than when you arrived.
You find yourself lost in thought on the ride home, reviewing the events of not only today, but the past two weeks. You've been knighted, named Champion, discovered that you are in fact a changeling, and thrown right into the middle of this age old conflict between humans and fae. Maeve has contacted you, Az'Lean relies on you, and isn't Vynn acting a bit strange? Not to mention that people like Lester and Thianne surely have agendas of their own.
That being said, you find something in you settling. Maybe the inital shock has passed. Maybe the decisions you've made helped you reaffirm that your duty is only to Az'Lean and the kingdom, and no one else.
<<if $humanity > 71>> Maybe, despite everything, you're not any less human than you've always been. Maybe that's how you should stay. <<endif>>\
<<if $humanity < 72 && $humanity > 31>> Maybe, despite everything, it doesn't matter what species you are. Maybe you can find identity outside of that, in your actions and in your relationships. <<endif>>\
<<if $humanity < 32>> But the decision to set the barrier to lethal... Was it the right one? How could you not speak up about the lives of innocent fae when Maeve asked you for your support and a situation just like that? She'll find out, and she'll despise you. <<set $instability to $instability + 1>> <<endif>>\
You figure you'll still need a bit more time to really reconcile everything that is happening. You've been getting closer to some people, and that is both a relief and more reason to fear for your safety. What if Vynn hadn't offered to test the barrier? You'd be dead now, or forced to admit your secret.
It's obvious that this can't continue forever. But what to do? Who to tell?
One thing you can say for certain, however, is that this Wild Hunt will certainly be what it promised - an omen of more bloodshed to come.
[[End of Chapter 4 - Wild Hunt|Chapter5.0]]It doesn't take long for you to return to the estate. Lord Westwale eagerly awaits your return, as does a large, hearty dinner. You explain to him in detail what you saw in the villages, how you set up the barrier, and that you spotted a Dullahan across the border.
"That does sound like what my men described as the leader of this Wild Hunt. You say he just stood there? I hope this barrier is enough to make him give up. Other territories will have to strengthen their borders as well, just in case he'll go looking for a new victim," Lord Westwale says with a weary sigh. "Though I must say, I can't quite approve of what you decided to do. Will a purely defensive barrier be enough to deter the fae from their continued attacks? It would be better to strike fear into them."
Az'Lean frowns. "The option to change the barriers to lethal remains, I assure you. For now, we will observe the effects for ourselves before making further judgements. The next step will be helping those villages rebuild and staying vigilant. I will leave that in your hands, Lord Westwale. We must return to the castle and urge my father to allow for mass production of the barrier."
"I see no reason for the king to refuse. In any case, I will send you a messager in a few days with a detailed report on how the situation proceeds. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Lord Westwale asks as he fold his hands on the table.
"If I may," Thianne cuts in, "I'd suggest strikin' a deal for regular maintanence of the barriers. I'd prefer you rely on my services only, at least until more territories are outfitted with my barriers. Simply put, I don't trust just any sorcerer or mage with them."
Lord Westwale inclinces his head. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement, milady."
A few more details are discussed before this mission is offically deemed concluded and you are setting out once more, leaving Westwale territory behind. Hopefully safer and more peaceful than when you arrived.
You find yourself lost in thought on the ride home, reviewing the events of not only today, but the past two weeks. You've been knighted, named Champion, discovered that you are in fact a changeling, and thrown right into the middle of this age old conflict between humans and fae. Maeve has contacted you, Az'Lean relies on you, and isn't Vynn acting a bit strange? Not to mention that people like Lester and Thianne surely have agendas of their own.
That being said, you find something in you settling. Maybe the inital shock has passed. Maybe the decisions you've made helped you realise that not everything has to be black and white, human or fae. Can't you be both? Can't there be peace?
<<if $humanity > 71>> Maybe you should really confront what you know about the world. About history. Maybe you're biased and ignorant. Maybe all humans are. <<set $instability to $instability + 1>> <<endif>>\
<<if $humanity < 72 && $humanity > 31>> Maybe, despite everything, it doesn't matter what species you are. Maybe you can find identity outside of that, in your actions and in your relationships. <<endif>>\
<<if $humanity < 32>> Maybe Maeve has a point. Maybe your influence is needed to foster understanding between humans and fae. Az'Lean listened to you today. Maybe he will do so again, should you try. <<endif>>\
You figure you'll still need a bit more time to really reconcile everything that is happening. You've been getting closer to some people, and that is both a relief and more reason to fear for your safety. What if Vynn hadn't offered to test the barrier? Your secret would have been revealed at a terrible time, right after seeing the destruction a group of fae had caused.
It's obvious that this can't continue forever. But what to do? Who to tell?
One thing you can say for certain, however, is that this Wild Hunt surely is what it promises to be - an omen of more bloodshed yet to come.
[[End of Chapter 4 - Wild Hunt|Chapter5.0]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5>>\
Even though you’ve spent every day together this past week, you still find yourself seeking Az’Lean’s company. There’s simply something about his presence that keeps on catching your interest.
For a moment, you worry whether it might be presumptuous to ask the prince to spend time together, or that he might think you’re clingy or intentionally disregarding his decision to give you a day off. You mentally prepare yourself for the possibility of rejection as you leave your room and walk the few steps over to his.
You hesitate only for a split second before knocking on his door. A while passes without answer and you figure he has already left when the door finally opens, just a small gap. Az’Lean’s sky blue eyes stare out from the darkness of his room, and the sight reminds you of a wolf peeking out from behind a tree in the middle of the night.
As soon as he recognises that it’s you, he opens the door fully, his posture changing from alert to intentionally relaxed. “Good morning, $playername. Do you need something?”
“Good morning, Az’Lean. I simply meant to ask how you planned on spending your day today.” It’s still surprisingly nerve-wracking to speak to him so casually and your hands start to feel a tad clammy.
Az’Lean’s eyes narrow. “I was planning on heading down to the mews and checking on the falcons. Why? You know it’s your day off.”
He doesn’t sound at all happy to see you, and your heart starts to sink a little. Maybe you were overstepping your boundaries. Still, there’s no way to know for sure other than asking him.
“I was wondering if you’d like to spend some leisure time together. It’s been a busy week and we could both stand to do something relaxing.” You try your best to make it sound like the casual invitation it is supposed to be.
Az’Lean continues staring at you as if trying to read some hidden truth on your face. “You want to spend your day off with me? Are you sure?”
“Is it truly that surprising?” you can’t help but ask. “I enjoy your company.”
“I appreciate that sentiment a lot,” Az’Lean says slowly, “but I fear if we spend every day together you’ll grow sick of me rather soon, and we can’t have that.”
The thought of that had never once crossed your mind and you're surprised that it’s something he worries about. You smile reassuringly. “I don’t think that will happen if that’s your only concern.”
Az’Lean still looks unconvinced. “You can’t deny the possibility exists. We don’t know each other well enough yet to say for sure.”
“That is true. Though I thought at the banquet you weren’t opposed to the idea of spending time together.” The blank look he gives you makes you feel increasingly unsure about any of this. “I apologise if I misjudged that, I can completely understand wanting some alone time.”
He quickly shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, I was the one suggesting we do an activity together sometime, you’re right. I simply wasn’t aware that you were genuinely interested.”
You had thought your interest had been quite clear, but maybe your emotional turmoil these past few days had been somehow misinterpreted by Az’Lean. Or maybe he was just being polite and you latched onto something that wasn’t there. You have to ask him before the thought can fester. “So was it simply an offer made out of courtesy and not real interest?”
Az’Lean shakes his head again, looking a little bewildered. “No, I am interested in getting to know you. I simply don’t want you to think it’s an obligation.”
He simply doesn’t believe you when you say you enjoy his company, you realise. You don’t know if you truly come across as that disingenuous or if Az’Lean as a prince simply isn’t used to regular companionship. It’s concerning either way.
You put your entire heart and soul into your next few words. “I promise you I am asking you because I want to and for no other reason at all.”
Az’Lean blinks and it’s like something clicks into place as soon as he does so. He exits the room with a flourish and a dazzling smile. “If that’s the case I suppose there’s no reason for me to refuse. Let us go, then.”
You feel like he doesn’t truly believe you and is only humouring you for now, so it’s on you to prove to him that you truly value his company and his time.
[[“Lead the way, Az’Lean.”|Chapter4.4A]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5>>\
Getting to know Lester a bit better might not be a bad way to spend your day off. Not only is he an interesting person who clearly has something to hide, but you get the feeling that he really knows how to have a good time when he wants to - something you could use right about now.
With not much to go on in terms of where he would be right now, you decide that checking his room is the best option. It’s still early enough in the day that he might be there. With just a hint of uncertainty, you make your way over to the servant quarters. Hopefully Lester is actually up to spending time with you.
This time of day, the servant quarters turn out to be especially busy and hectic. Food, laundry, and water is being carried up and down the stairs, and everyone seems to be in a hurry. As unobtrusively as possible, you dodge between swathes of people as you head up the stairs to Lester’s room.
Up here on the residential floor it is a bit quieter, but you can still hear people talking down the hall. Although you’ve only been here once before and everything kind of blends together in terms of layout and architecture, you do eventually find your way and come to a halt in front of the door to his room without incident.
You’re just about to knock on Lester’s door when you notice something peculiar - the door isn’t fully closed. The gap is barely wider than your hand, but you suppose you could look inside if you really wanted to.
Did Lester simply forget to close his door on the way out? Or maybe he is still inside, trying to get some morning air flowing through? Or - and this is not a possibility you would like to entertain - something happened, like a break in. You suppose you can’t rule it out.
You hesitate for a moment, hand still raised as if to knock, as you ponder how to approach this.
[[Just try knocking.|Chapter4.4LA]]
[[Call out to Lester, even though the people down the hall will hear you.|Chapter4.4LB]]
[[Peek through the gap.|Chapter4.4LC]]
[[Open the door.|Chapter4.4LD]]<<set $sleep to "yes">>\
The prospect of getting to spend all night talking with Lady Maeve, learning more about the fae, about who and what you are, is too enticing to not take full advantage of it. You can spend time with the people in the castle every day, but this is a special opportunity.
In order to take full advantage of your meeting with Maeve, you decide to take a long nap during the day so you'll be awake and full of energy by midnight. Sleep admittedly doesn't come easy, and you spend some time tossing and turning, fighting against negative thoughts that threaten to forever keep you awake and miserable - but you do eventually fall asleep.
When you wake again it is late in the afternoon, and you use the rest of the day to eat and mentally prepare yourself. You'll be sneaking off into the castle gardens in the middle of the night, after all - an act like that requires some thought.
You know there'll be guards near the entrance, but not in the gardens themselves. There might be someone else taking a midnight stroll, but you figure Lady Maeve is smart enough to wait until everything's clear before showing herself. If anyone asks what you're doing out so late, you'll simply say you need some fresh air. Worst case scenario someone will assume you're secretly meeting with a lover.
Should there really be too many people out and about or should the guards linger too close to the garden, Lady Maeve might not show at all. You decide you'll not wait longer than an hour and consider the meeting failed after that.
With everything planned out, you wait for night to fall. When you leave it is without your weapons - you want to show Lady Maeve that you're amicable, so she'll hopefully be up to extending your meeting until late into the night.
[[It feels like you've been waiting an eternity when it finally nears midnight.|Chapter4.10C]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5>>\
You decide to go and seek out Thianne. You’re hoping that she isn’t too busy to spend time with you, and that your presence won’t bother her. Aside from Az’Lean suggesting that you two should get to know each because you will be working together at times, you also find yourself interested in her as a person. Truthfully, you don’t know much about her yet, but you get the feeling that putting in the effort will be worth it.
As you leave your room to go look for Thianne, you realise that you aren’t sure where to find her. You figure she must be living in the castle, but you have no idea where exactly her room is and if she’d even be there. It is Sunday, so she might not be around at all, but your best bet is still checking the library and the magical laboratory.
Thankfully you only have to go up one set of stairs before you find yourself in the refreshing coolness of the library. It is still relatively early and not many people are here, leaving the place undisturbed and quiet. Silently, you wander through the length of the library, keeping your eyes peeled for Thianne. You don’t spot her, but it’s possible that she could be out of your line of sight behind a shelf, or tucked away in a hidden corner.
Still, you can’t just start calling her name, so you head up the stairs to the magic lab instead. It’s an easier place to survey, in any case. Unfortunately, as you let your gaze wander across workbenches, strange baubles and devices, you don’t spot Thianne anywhere here either. Just as you're about to give up and find something else to do with your day, you see the Head Sorcerer, Birch, filing something away in a cabinet.
It might be worth it to ask them if they’ve seen Thianne or know where she might be. You approach them carefully, clearing your throat when they don’t immediately notice you. Birch’s head snaps up, and although their eyes are hidden behind their bangs, you imagine they must be staring at you.
They quickly settle into a smile. “Ah, Champion $playername! It is good to see you this morning. What brings you to the lab?”
“I’m looking for Thianne. Do you know where she might be this time of day?”
Birch tilts their head to the side. “You can never really know with Thianne. She might still be in bed, to be sure. But if you’re searching for her, I’d suggest checking the castle gardens - the herb section, to be precise. Or, if that sounds like too much work, you could stay here and assist me with one of my experiments?”
You get the feeling that that’s a very bad idea, so you smile politely and shake your head. “Maybe next time, Head Sorcerer. But thank you for your information.”
Birch nods. “Thianne really could do with spending more time with others, so I’m glad I could help.”
[[You say your goodbyes and make your way outside to the castle gardens.|Chapter4.4T]]You decide to go and check up on Vynn, seeing as it’s been a few days since you’ve last seen each other. It’s strange to no longer share a living space with them, and a part of you misses it. With all that’s happened to you, it’s also been easy to forget that Vynn is struggling with their new position as a knight as well. So spending your day off with them seems like a sensible choice.
Truthfully, you don’t know exactly where they would be today, though you figure it’s early enough that they might still be in the barracks. It might be nice to catch up with the other knights as well once you’re there - your position as Champion has isolated you from them to some degree. <i>But maybe that's for the better.</i>
You make your way through the castle hallways with little delay. It’s gotten a bit quieter now that most of the visiting nobles have left, your parents included. It seems that with less critical eyes around, the servants and everyone else living in the castle is much more relaxed and it’s palpable in the atmosphere all around you.
As you step outside, you notice that the air has become considerably more humid and you wonder whether there will be a storm soon. For now, however, the sky is clear, and you enjoy the warmth of the sun on your face as you make your way over to the barracks. You purposefully circumvent the market so as to not get distracted, opting to take the narrower alleyways instead. You have to duck under strung-up laundry a few times, but it’s the faster route.
The wooden entry gate into the barracks is wide open once you get there, though it seems quiet. Hoping that Vynn hasn’t left yet, you quickly head inside, taking the creaky stairs up to your old room. You pass by a few older knights in the common room, exchanging polite greetings with them, but not stopping to talk.
Once you come to a halt in front of the door to your old room, you pause. You can hear a loud scratching noise from inside, like someone is dragging something heavy over the floorboards.
[[You enter immediately without knocking, as you’re used to.|Chapter4.4VA]]
[[You knock politely and wait.|Chapter4.4VB]]
[[“Vynn? You there? I’m coming in!” Warning them is enough and you enter without waiting for a response.|Chapter4.4VC]]The two of you make idle conversation as Az’Lean leads you out onto the castle grounds. The air is already heating up and you can feel the sun on your skin. It helps to ease the awkward tension from earlier.
“So, have you ever dealt with falcons before, $playername?” Az’Lean asks as he unlocks the gate leading to the mews and the small wooden sheds where the falconry gear is kept.
You watch with interest as Az’Lean begins rummaging around in one of the sheds. “Truthfully, no. My family doesn’t keep any and so I’ve never really had the opportunity. Is there anything I should be aware of?”
“As a bystander? Just act like you usually would around animals you don’t know. I’m confident that my birds are all well trained, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful around them so as to not rile them up. As far as falconry is concerned, there is quite a lot to learn - much more than we have time to get into right now. For now, I’ll just introduce you to them.”
Az’Lean proceeds to put on a thick leather glove on his left hand. He also retrieves some kind of leash and various leather straps. Once everything is prepared, he leads you over to one of the mews.
“This here is Kaz. She’s one of my oldest and very calm. Nothing fazes her anymore.”
A light-brown peregrine falcon sits rigidly on a perch, clicking her beak as Azlean begins to fasten the leash to his glove and then the field jess around Kaz’s anklet. Without needing to give a command, Kaz climbs onto Az’Lean’s glove and he holds the field jess between his fingers to make sure she stays there.
“This here is $playername,” Az’Lean says and holds his left arm with Kaz on it out in front of you. Pitch black eyes stare at up you and Kaz slowly tilts her head to the side.
You return her stubborn gaze with awe. “She’s very pretty, and her eyes look so intelligent. I feel like she’s greeting me.”
Az’Lean nods. “She probably is. That’s what I like about birds, they actually are pretty smart. I never understood why bird-brain is an insult. Did you know that supposedly, there exists a type of bird that is capable of human speech?”
“A regular bird? Not a magical beast?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.
“No really, a normal bird,” Az’Lean says, excitement clear in his voice. “They’re not native to Gaiapeia so I don’t know whether that claim is true or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Most birds can already sing well enough, so why not talk?”
Kaz chirps as if to agree with Az’Lean. You look at the two of them and feel that there must be a large amount of trust between them for a human and a falcon to be at complete ease around each other.
“Do you have a favourite type of bird?” you find yourself asking. Hearing Az’Lean talk passionately is a joy to witness. “Cover Kaz’s ears if the answer isn’t falcons.”
Az’Lean smiles and gives Kaz a long look. “I love all birds of prey. I can’t help but admire their speed and precision. However, I am particularly partial to owls. What about you? Do you have any favourite birds or animals in general?”
[[“I too love owls, and not just because they’re my family crest.”|Chapter4.5AA]]
[[“What would a knight be without a horse? Nothing beats horses.”|Chapter4.5AB]]
[[“I like wolves. There’s just something mysterious about them.”|Chapter4.5AC]]
[[“My heart belongs to each and every cat out there. I want to pet them all.”|Chapter4.5AD]]
[[“Nothing can beat how loyal and lovable dogs are.”|Chapter4.5AE]]
[[“I actually think snakes are one of the most interesting animals out there.”|Chapter4.5AF]]
[[“I love the beauty and variety of butterflies.”|Chapter4.5AG]]Just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden door, you hear Lester’s voice calling out to you from down the hall.
“Wait! I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Champ!” His frantic tone instinctively makes you jump backwards away from the door, all senses immediately on high alert and ready for danger.
You watch from the corner of your eye as Lester runs up to you. He’s completely out of breath once he reaches you, doubling over and wheezing.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong with your room?” you ask, feeling both curious and concerned.
“What a vague question! There’s tons wrong with my room, but the reason I warned you is simple,” Lester says and pauses, trying to build anticipation. “The door is rigged.”
You frown. “Rigged? Like a trap?”
Lester grins broadly, flashing his sharp teeth. “Less a trap and more an elaborate prank as a means of revenge. Someone’s been snooping around in my room, so I rigged up the door. Just touching it activates it, so you’re lucky I was around to stop you from knocking.”
You glance at the door - it looks inconspicuous from here. “What would have happened?”
Lester laughs shrewdly. “You wouldn’t want to know. Really, better not ask me again. In other news, what brings you here, Champ?”
“Today’s my day off,” you explain. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend some time together if you’re free as well.”
“Oho!” Lester exclaims, looking up at you with unnaturally bright green eyes. “Now that’s an honour I didn’t expect. I do happen to be free, yes. Now that the entrance to my room is secured, I don’t see a reason to refuse your offer.”
You’re not quite surprised that he accepted your invitation but hearing it brightens your mood nonetheless. You weren't sure what Lester really thought of you, but at the very least your presence doesn’t seem to be insufferable to him.
“Great. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”
Lester scratches his beard as he thinks for a moment. “Not really, but I absolutely want to get out of this castle. I need those delicious sunny rays.”
“How about a stroll through the market place?” you suggest.
"Sounds good! Let’s get out of here." Lester turns his back on his still slightly opened door and the two of you make your way down the stairs.
"So why is someone snooping through you room?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity. "That sounds pretty serious."
"Eh, could be. Might just be someone trying to annoy me though, hard to tell. Whoever it is, they know how to pick locks, but they're no thief. Nothing was stolen. Mysterious, right?" Lester grins at you as if the prospect of someone breaking and entering into his room excites him more than anything.
"Mysterious, sure. But also incredibly weird and somewhat concerning. Did you report it to anyone?"
Something vicious flits across Lester's face. "Gods no. Then I wouldn't be able to test my prank-defense. I want to catch them myself."
He glances up at you.
[[“Don't worry, Champ. I won't go too far. Promise.”|Chapter4.5L]]"Lester? Are you there?" you ask loudly. You wait a few seconds for a resonse but the inside of Lester's room remains quiet.
A few people in the corridor have turned to look at you and some are even whispering amongst each other. Apparently, Lester getting a visitor is a noteworthy occassion - or something bad really happened in his room.
Just as you are about to consider doing something else with your day, the whispers are interrupted by a loud shout. "Champ! Whatever you do, don't go in there!"
You turn around to find Lester running towards you. He’s completely out of breath once he reaches you, doubling over and wheezing.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong with your room?” you ask, feeling both curious and concerned.
“What a vague question! There’s tons wrong with my room, but the reason I warned you is simple,” Lester says and pauses, trying to build anticipation. “The door is rigged.”
You frown. “Rigged? Like a trap?”
Lester grins broadly, flashing his sharp teeth. “Less a trap and more an elaborate prank as a means of revenge. Someone’s been snooping around in my room, so I rigged up the door. Just touching it activates it, so you’re lucky I was around to warn you.”
You glance at the door - it looks inconspicuous from here. “What would have happened?”
Lester laughs shrewdly. “You wouldn’t want to know. Really, better not ask me again. In other news, what brings you here, Champ?”
“Today’s my day off,” you explain. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend some time together if you’re free as well.”
“Oho!” Lester exclaims, looking up at you with unnaturally bright green eyes. “Now that’s an honour I didn’t expect. I do happen to be free, yes. Now that the entrance to my room is secured, I don’t see a reason to refuse your offer.”
You’re not quite surprised that he accepted your invitation but hearing it brightens your mood nonetheless. You weren't sure what Lester really thought of you, but at the very least your presence doesn’t seem to be insufferable to him.
“Great. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”
Lester scratches his beard as he thinks for a moment. “Not really, but I absolutely want to get out of this castle. I need those delicious sunny rays.”
“How about a stroll through the market place?” you suggest.
"Sounds good! Let’s get out of here." Lester turns his back on his still slightly opened door and the two of you make your way down the stairs.
"So why is someone snooping through you room?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity. "That sounds pretty serious."
"Eh, could be. Might just be someone trying to annoy me though, hard to tell. Whoever it is, they know how to pick locks, but they're no thief. Nothing was stolen. Mysterious, right?" Lester grins at you as if the prospect of someone breaking and entering into his room excites him more than anything.
"Mysterious, sure. But also incredibly weird and somewhat concerning. Did you report it to anyone?"
Something vicious flits across Lester's face. "Gods no. Then I wouldn't be able to test my prank-defense. I want to catch them myself."
He glances up at you.
[[“Don't worry, Champ. I won't go too far. Promise.”|Chapter4.5L]]You lean forward, trying to get a glimpse of what's inside but it's too dark and quiet to glean any sort of insight. Just as you are about to lean against the doorframe to get a better point of view, you hear Lester's voice calling out to you from down the hall.
“Wait! I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Champ!” His frantic tone instinctively makes you jump backwards away from the door, all senses immediately on high alert and ready for danger.
You watch from the corner of your eye as Lester runs up to you. He’s completely out of breath once he reaches you, doubling over and wheezing.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong with your room?” you ask, feeling both curious and concerned.
“What a vague question! There’s tons wrong with my room, but the reason I warned you is simple,” Lester says and pauses, trying to build anticipation. “The door is rigged.”
You frown. “Rigged? Like a trap?”
Lester grins broadly, flashing his sharp teeth. “Less a trap and more an elaborate prank as a means of revenge. Someone’s been snooping around in my room, so I rigged up the door. Just touching it activates it, so you’re lucky I was around to stop you from touching it.”
You glance at the door - it looks inconspicuous from here. “What would have happened?”
Lester laughs shrewdly. “You wouldn’t want to know. Really, better not ask me again. In other news, what brings you here, Champ?”
“Today’s my day off,” you explain. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend some time together if you’re free as well.”
“Oho!” Lester exclaims, looking up at you with unnaturally bright green eyes. “Now that’s an honour I didn’t expect. I do happen to be free, yes. Now that the entrance to my room is secured, I don’t see a reason to refuse your offer.”
You’re not quite surprised that he accepted your invitation but hearing it brightens your mood nonetheless. You weren't sure what Lester really thought of you, but at the very least your presence doesn’t seem to be insufferable to him.
“Great. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”
Lester scratches his beard as he thinks for a moment. “Not really, but I absolutely want to get out of this castle. I need those delicious sunny rays.”
“How about a stroll through the market place?” you suggest.
"Sounds good! Let’s get out of here." Lester turns his back on his still slightly opened door and the two of you make your way down the stairs.
"So why is someone snooping through you room?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity. "That sounds pretty serious."
"Eh, could be. Might just be someone trying to annoy me though, hard to tell. Whoever it is, they know how to pick locks, but they're no thief. Nothing was stolen. Mysterious, right?" Lester grins at you as if the prospect of someone breaking and entering into his room excites him more than anything.
"Mysterious, sure. But also incredibly weird and somewhat concerning. Did you report it to anyone?"
Something vicious flits across Lester's face. "Gods no. Then I wouldn't be able to test my prank-defense. I want to catch them myself."
He glances up at you.
[[“Don't worry, Champ. I won't go too far. Promise.”|Chapter4.5L]]It might be an invasion of privacy - or it could save someone's life. You decide to take your chances and open the door fully. You reach out and just when your finger tips are about to brush against the wood, an aweful feeling of foreboding washes over you. There's something primal about it and you think you sense some kind of magic in the air.
Instinctively, you retract your hand but remain standing there as if in a haze. It's not like being scared stiff, but you still feel like one wrong step could trigger something terrible at any moment.
Before you can shake the feeling, someone barrels into you with full force, shoving you away from the door.
"Please for the love of the Gods tell me you didn't touch it," Lester growls up at you, though he sounds concerned more than anything.
"I didn't, but I came close," you admit. “What’s going on? Is something wrong with your room?” you ask, feeling both curious and concerned.
“What a vague question! There’s tons wrong with my room, but the reason I stopped you is simple,” Lester says and pauses, trying to build anticipation. “The door is rigged.”
You frown. “Rigged? Like a trap?”
Lester grins broadly, flashing his sharp teeth. “Less a trap and more an elaborate prank as a means of revenge. Someone’s been snooping around in my room, so I rigged up the door. Just touching it activates it, so you’re lucky I was around to stop you.”
You glance at the door - it looks inconspicuous from here but that feeling of immenent danger still lingers in the air. “What would have happened?”
Lester laughs shrewdly. “You wouldn’t want to know. Really, better not ask me again. In other news, what brings you here, Champ?”
You feel like this isn't something to just gloss over but the sharpness in Lester's gaze prevents you from prying further.
“Today’s my day off,” you explain. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend some time together if you’re free as well.”
“Oho!” Lester exclaims, looking up at you with unnaturally bright green eyes. “Now that’s an honour I didn’t expect. I do happen to be free, yes. Now that the entrance to my room is secured, I don’t see a reason to refuse your offer.”
You’re not quite surprised that he accepted your invitation but hearing it brightens your mood nonetheless. You weren't sure what Lester really thought of you, but at the very least your presence doesn’t seem to be insufferable to him.
“Great. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”
Lester scratches his beard as he thinks for a moment. “Not really, but I absolutely want to get out of this castle. I need those delicious sunny rays.”
“How about a stroll through the market place?” you suggest.
"Sounds good! Let’s get out of here." Lester turns his back on his still slightly opened door and the two of you make your way down the stairs.
"So why is someone snooping through you room?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity. "That sounds pretty serious."
"Eh, could be. Might just be someone trying to annoy me though, hard to tell. Whoever it is, they know how to pick locks, but they're no thief. Nothing was stolen. Mysterious, right?" Lester grins at you as if the prospect of someone breaking and entering into his room excites him more than anything.
"Mysterious, sure. But also incredibly weird and somewhat concerning. Did you report it to anyone?"
Something vicious flits across Lester's face. "Gods no. Then I wouldn't be able to test my prank-defense. I want to catch them myself."
He glances up at you.
[[“Don't worry, Champ. I won't go too far. Promise.”|Chapter4.5L]]The herb section of the castle gardens isn’t a place you’ve ever been to before, but it’s not difficult to find. Rows upon rows of orderly sectioned-off patches of soil, all filled with different kinds of herbs and spices. Gravel pathways snake their ways around them, giving ample space for leisurely walks.
Since most of the plants are low to the ground, your view is unobstructed, and it doesn’t take you long to spot Thianne. She is once again wearing her red cloak, though the hood isn’t pulled up, instead pooling around her shoulders. She is crouched in a patch of sage, a small sickle and an opened leather pouch lying next to her.
You approach casually, not sure how to greet her or what to say. She might be working right now and you wouldn’t want to disturb her. On the other hand, maybe she’d appreciate a little help with whatever she’s doing. Your steps slow down as you approach her.
“$playername,” Thianne says without looking up. You aren’t sure how she knew it was you but know never to underestimate the abilities of a magic user.
“Thianne,” you echo her. “You remembered my name.”
She stops what she’s doing, wipes her hands on the fabric of her trousers, and slowly gets up to look at you.
<<if $height == "tall">> She has to crane her neck to look at you. <<endif>>\
<<if $height == "average">> She has to slightly tilt her head up to look at you. <<endif>>\
<<if $height == "short">> She’s eye level with you. <<endif>>\
“I did. What can I say, you made an impression.”
“A good one, I hope.”
“Eh,” she says with a shrug. “So, what do you want?”
“Today’s my day off so I wanted to see if you’d like to spend some time together,” you say and try for a smile. “Though I get if you’re busy.”
Thianne blinks her amber eyes a few times. “Do you not have any friends you’d rather spend your time with?”
It sounds like a genuine question so you decide to take it in stride. “I guess I could find someone else to spend time with if you’re busy, but I think you’re an interesting person and I’d like to get to know you better.”
“That’s fair enough. I don’t have time for just anything though,” she says, gesturing at the sage around her. “There’s still a lot more pickin’ I have to do. You’re free to help if you really want to.”
You’re relieved to hear that you haven’t been rejected and can’t help the widening of your smile. “Sure, sounds good to me. Just tell me what to pick and how much.”
Thianne nods, taking a look into her satchel. “Alright, aside from sage I still need to get some rue, some mugwort, and some tea leaves.”
[[“Is most of that for a potion or some kind of medicine?”|Chapter4.5TA]]
[[“Do you enjoy drinking tea?”|Chapter4.5TB]]
[[“Got it.” You don’t waste any time and get to work.|Chapter4.5TC]]Your $eyes eyes immediately land on Vynn, crouched in the middle of the room, arms awkwardly wrapped around a wooden chest. The noise of the door opening seems to startle them, brown curls bouncing wildly around their head as they shoot upright and turn around. A dagger seems to appear out of nowhere in Vynn’s hands as they whirl around to face you, held protectively out in front of them.
Their chocolate brown eyes seem impossibly dark as they stare at you for a second. All tension bleeds out of Vynn as soon as they recognise you, and they awkwardly adjust the bright orange scarf around their neck.
“Good Gods, $playername. You scared the living daylights out of me,” Vynn laments as they let the dagger vanish inside of one of their sleeves. “It’s too early in the morning for frights.”
You give them a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I guess that was an unexpected entry. Should I start knocking from now on?”
“You probably should, yeah. Especially since I’ll be moving to an entirely new room,” they say as they pat the wooden chest. “I’ve just finished packing.”
You let your gaze wander and realise that the room is practically barren. Everything that had been lying around or hanging on the walls seems to be gone, stored in a wooden chest and a few crates.
“Right. You get your own room now, too. Are you moving upstairs then? Let’s hope you don’t end up next to Lady Westwale or you’ll never be allowed to play your lute again.”
Vynn looks out of the window, something like melancholy softening the air around them. “Actually, I’m leaving the barracks and moving into the castle. Prince Az’Lean offered it to me, remember? I wasn’t sure at first, but I figured I might as well accept.”
“That’s great, I’m sure you’ll like it there. I can show you around the castle sometime if you want. I’m no expert, but I’ve got some idea of where everything is now. Wait a minute, is that what you’re doing?” You eye the chest in the middle of the room critically; it certainly looks heavy. “Are you- Are you trying to drag your stuff all the way up into the castle from here, on your own?”
“I’m managing!” Vynn’s cheeks darken in indignation.
You can’t suppress a grin. “You’re ruining the floorboards, is what you're doing.”
With a huff, they cross their arms and sit down atop the chest. “Well, sorry I don’t have any handsome princes with servants who will help me carry my stuff.”
“Come on, you know I’ll help you. That goes without saying. If you’d asked me, I would’ve been here even earlier.”
Vynn blinks up at you, slowly uncrossing their arms. “This is your day off though, right? I didn’t want to impose.”
You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about that? Don’t tell me you’ll start treating me differently now.”
Vynn shakes their head immediately, an apologetic smile on their lips.
“I won’t be treating you differently, $playername, don’t worry about that. But you know that things are going to change now - we’re not squires anymore. We both have a lot of duties now and our time is precious. I can’t expect you to keep spending it all with me.”
[[“That’s dumb. You’re still my best friend, why wouldn’t I want to spend all my time with you?”|Chapter4.5VA]]
[[“I understand what you’re saying, and you’re probably right that we’ll be more busy. But never hesitate to ask me anyway, alright?”|Chapter4.5VB]]
[[“Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Absence does make the heart grow fonder.”|Chapter4.5VC]]The noises stop for a second, before you hear footsteps that you immediately identify as Vynn’s. They soon open the door, something like annoyance darkening their eyes, though it is immediately washed away once they recognise you.
“$playername, what a pleasant surprise! Come on in,” Vynn says enthusiastically as they wave their arms around.
Your gaze wanders into the room behind them as you step inside. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important here. You look busy.”
They immediately shake their head. “I’ve just finished packing, actually. I’m moving into a room new today.”
You let your gaze wander and realise that the room is practically barren. Everything that had been lying around or hanging on the walls seems to be gone, stored in a wooden chest and a few crates.
“Right. You get your own room now, too. Are you moving upstairs then? Let’s hope you don’t end up next to Lady Westwale or you’ll never be allowed to play your lute again.”
Vynn looks out of the window, something like melancholy softening the air around them. “Actually, I’m leaving the barracks and moving into the castle. Prince Az’Lean offered it to me, remember? I wasn’t sure at first, but I figured I might as well accept.”
“That’s great, I’m sure you’ll like it there. I can show you around the castle sometime if you want. I’m no expert, but I’ve got some idea of where everything is now. Wait a minute, is that what you’re doing?” You eye the chest in the middle of the room critically; it certainly looks heavy. “Are you- Are you trying to drag your stuff all the way up into the castle from here, on your own?”
“I’m managing!” Vynn’s cheeks darken in indignation.
You can’t suppress a grin. “You’re ruining the floorboards, is what you're doing.”
With a huff, they cross their arms and sit down atop the chest. “Well, sorry I don’t have any handsome princes with servants who will help me carry my stuff.”
“Come on, you know I’ll help you. That goes without saying. If you’d asked me, I would’ve been here even earlier.”
Vynn blinks up at you, slowly uncrossing their arms. “This is your day off though, right? I didn’t want to impose.”
You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about that? Don’t tell me you’ll start treating me differently now.”
Vynn shakes their head immediately, an apologetic smile on their lips.
“I won’t be treating you differently, $playername, don’t worry about that. But you know that things are going to change now - we’re not squires anymore. We both have a lot of duties now and our time is precious. I can’t expect you to keep spending it all with me.”
[[“That’s dumb. You’re still my best friend, why wouldn’t I want to spend all my time with you?”|Chapter4.5VA]]
[[“I understand what you’re saying, and you’re probably right that we’ll be more busy. But never hesitate to ask me anyway, alright?”|Chapter4.5VB]]
[[“Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Absence does make the heart grow fonder.”|Chapter4.5VC]]“Yes, I’m here and yes I’m decent, thank you for asking!” Vynn bellows as you throw the door open. They are, in fact, fully clothed, and awkwardly bent over a big wooden chest.
“What the Otherworld are you doing?” you ask as you step inside, closing the door behind you.
Vynn blinks up at you through their brown curls, something like affectionate annoyance in their eyes. “This, my dear $playername, is my poor attempt at moving my stuff. I just finished packing.” They blow an unruly curl out of their face. “So now I gotta get this to my new room.”
You let your gaze wander and realise that the room is practically barren. Everything that had been lying around or hanging on the walls seems to be gone, stored in a wooden chest and a few crates.
“Right. You get your own room now, too. Are you moving upstairs then? Let’s hope you don’t end up next to Lady Westwale or you’ll never be allowed to play your lute again.”
Vynn looks out of the window, something like melancholy softening the air around them. “Actually, I’m leaving the barracks and moving into the castle. Prince Az’Lean offered it to me, remember? I wasn’t sure at first, but I figured I might as well accept.”
“That’s great, I’m sure you’ll like it there. I can show you around the castle sometime if you want. I’m no expert, but I’ve got some idea of where everything is now. Wait a minute, is that what you’re doing?” You eye the chest in the middle of the room critically; it certainly looks heavy. “Are you- Are you trying to drag your stuff all the way up into the castle from here, on your own?”
“I’m managing!” Vynn’s cheeks darken in indignation.
You can’t suppress a grin. “You’re ruining the floorboards, is what you're doing.”
With a huff, they cross their arms and sit down atop the chest. “Well, sorry I don’t have any handsome princes with servants who will help me carry my stuff.”
“Come on, you know I’ll help you. That goes without saying. If you’d asked me, I would’ve been here even earlier.”
Vynn blinks up at you, slowly uncrossing their arms. “This is your day off though, right? I didn’t want to impose.”
You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about that? Don’t tell me you’ll start treating me differently now.”
Vynn shakes their head immediately, an apologetic smile on their lips.
“I won’t be treating you differently, $playername, don’t worry about that. But you know that things are going to change now - we’re not squires anymore. We both have a lot of duties now and our time is precious. I can’t expect you to keep spending it all with me.”
[[“That’s dumb. You’re still my best friend, why wouldn’t I want to spend all my time with you?”|Chapter4.5VA]]
[[“I understand what you’re saying, and you’re probably right that we’ll be more busy. But never hesitate to ask me anyway, alright?”|Chapter4.5VB]]
[[“Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Absence does make the heart grow fonder.”|Chapter4.5VC]]"Owls are great," Az'Lean agrees immediately. "There is something so mysterious about them, and they have incredible night vision. Beautiful and deadly at the same time."
"I also think their wing spans are very impressive. Seeing one swoop through the night sky can be terrifying," you add.
“Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]"I've spent so much time with horses, there's no way I couldn't like them," Az'Lean says in agreement. "Such truly majestic beings."
"They're strong, fast, intelligent and loyal - in many ways they support this kingdom just as knights do," you add.
“Very true. Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]"Wolves are such fascinating creatures," Az'Lean says. "Dangerous and yet so lovable at the same time."
"I can completely understand the desire to domesticate them, though the original beats dogs for me any day," you add.
“Agreed. Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]"Cats are cute," Az'Lean says with some reservation. "For some reason they don't like me very much."
"Their independence is one of the reasons I like them. They tend to do whatever they please," you say.
“Ah, freedom. Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]"That's true. They really are humanity's best friends," Az'Lean says with a nod. "And they're useful too."
"I admire how they can be so playful and loving while also being fierce and protective at the same time," you add.
“Good qualities to have, I agree. Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]"Good choice," Az'Lean says with a nod. "I've only seen a handful of snakes in my life but have always been mesmerized by them."
"They exude such a distinct air of power, don't they? It might just be human instinct, but you can't help but respect snakes," you add.
“Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]"They are very beautiful," Az'Lean says in agreement. "And there are so many different kinds."
"Not to mention how vital they are for pollinating our flowers and crops," you add.
“And the way they move! Another reason why I gravitate towards birds, as cliché as it may sound, is simply my envy of their ability to fly. How freeing that must be. How exhilarating!” Az’Lean’s eyes brighten and he almost smiles.
His enthusiasm makes you smile in turn. “I wonder if flight would be possible with powerful enough magic.”
“I’m a firm believer in the fact that almost nothing is truly impossible to achieve - one must simply be willing to pay the right price. Whether that be in gold or time and effort,” Az’Lean says with a shrug. “Though I guess being a prince might make those words ring hollow.”
You let his words sink in for a while and can’t help the bitterness that bubbles up within you.
“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, though there are things beyond our control that might hinder us.” Your gaze is drawn down to your gloved hands.
Kaz chirps in irritation as Az’Lean takes a step towards you, some emotion you can’t quite read flickering in his eyes. Understanding? Resignation? Or something more sinister?
“That is very true,” he says so very slowly as if his thoughts were suddenly miles away. “Fate can be just as determined to steer us in the wrong direction as we are determined to reach our goals. I’d like to think my will is stronger than fate but recently I haven’t been sure.”
“I can understand that.” You leave it at that to nip this line of conversation in the bud. Az’Lean seems on the verge of plummeting into a very different topic - a painful one.
The two of you lapse into silence for a moment and Az’Lean begins absentmindedly petting Kaz’s head. She doesn’t seem to mind, burying her head further in the palm of his hand. It is a rather heart-warming sight.
[[Ask if you too can pet Kaz.|Chapter4.6AA]]
[[Continue watching. You don’t know Kaz well enough yet to feel comfortable with petting her.|Chapter4.6AB]]Even as you start considering that you might be spending the day with a dangerous individual, you can't help but enjoy the banter between you as you casually wander out of the castle and onto the city streets.
The cobblestone streets are filled with people enjoying the morning sun and the pleasent scents of freshly baked bread and lavender soap hang in the air. Laundry is already flapping in the winds, suspended above you, pigeons are hopping around between your feet in search of crumbs, and somewhere the city crier is citing the latest news.
The market place is even more bustling and you have to pay attention in order to avoid losing sight of Lester, though his unaturally red hair helps somewhat. You notice he has no trouble navigating the crowd, sometimes even closing his eyes to bask in the sunlight.
"This is so much better than those cold stone walls," Lester shouts over the noise of the crowd while nodding his head in the direction of the castle. "I can't wait for it to be properly summer."
You hum non-commitedly. "I'm honestly glad that it will be cool inside the castle. The barracks were almost uninhabitable during the Thunder Moon - all the humidity."
Lester groans. "That I agree with. Humidity is the worst. Might be because I'm half fire-sprite, but the hotter and drier the better. Speaking of hot, want to grab something to eat?"
"Sure."
The two of you keep strolling through the market place, passing by stands selling all kinds of produce and food. You both end up with your hands full of food and take a seat on the rim of the fountain while you eat.
"While we're here, I'd like to pick up some Otherleaf," Lester says between two bites of his skewer. "Nothing like some bizarre visions to take the edge off after a long day."
He sounds serious, but you can't help but be doubtful. "Do you really get visions from smoking that stuff? I always assumed that was an exaggeration."
"You don't always get visions but it can happen, yeah. I take it you haven't tried Otherleaf before?" Lester tilts his head in interest as he glances up at you.
You shake your head. "No, we squires weren't allowed to indulge in that kind of thing."
"Would you be interested in trying it now? No pressure, of course. It's decidedly not for everyone and I'm sure the prince wouldn't approve."
[[“Sure! Sounds like a good time.”|Chapter4.6LA]]
[[“Maybe when I'm in a better state of mind than right now.”|Chapter4.6LB]]
[[“No thanks, I think I'll pass.”|Chapter4.6LC]]“Most of it, yes. The tea leaves are for tea,” Thianne answers matter-of-factly as the two of you begin harvesting.
You are already wearing gloves, so it’s no problem for you to pick the plants by hand while Thianne uses the sickle. The sun is warm and comforting on your back and the fresh smell of herbs lingers pleasantly in your nose. It’s almost serene and the silence between you and Thianne feels natural.
Still, you find yourself craving conversation at some point and seamlessly pick back up where you left some minutes ago. “Do you drink a lot of tea? I know for some people it's a daily ritual.”
Thianne hums in thought. “I don’t drink it every day, but I do enjoy it. Usually I just stick to water, but every once in a while a freshly brewed cup of tea is the best way to unwind.”
You can hear her shuffling around behind you, boots scuffing up the ground.
“I wouldn’t mind you joinin’ me for a cup once we’re done here. You do deserve some reward, I suppose.” Thianne sounds nonchalant and you can’t see her expression, but you get the feeling that she doesn’t usually extend invitations like that.
“I’d like that,” you answer genuinely. “It’s been a while since I last had tea.”
“Is it not… your cup of tea?” Thianne says slowly, letting the terrible joke hang in the air around you.
You let out something between a chuckle and a groan. “No, I like the flavour of tea. It’s just been a busy time for me lately, so there hasn’t been an opportunity to brew myself some or visit a tea house.”
“I get that. I also have a tendency to neglect my own well-bein’ in favour of gettin’ more work done.” Thianne turns to face you with a wry smile, gesturing at her satchel.
You are reminded of the fact that today is your supposed day off, and here you are, doing work. Enjoyable work, admittedly, but still. “When you phrase it like that it sounds like a serious problem.”
“Maybe it is. You know what they say, you can’t keep burnin’ a candle on both ends.” Thianne looks at you intently for an uncomfortably long time. “Let’s be quick about it and then get some tea. You look like you need it even more than I do.”
Instinctively, you raise a hand to rub at your eyes. “I don’t look bad, do I? Or weird?”
Even though you’ve never in your life lost your human appearance without consciously intending to do so, ever since last week you’ve been worried about slipping up. What if your skin suddenly started turning grey? How would Thianne react?
“I didn’t take you for the vain type,” Thianne says with a snort. “You just look tired, $playername.”
You take the time to truly look at Thianne, and although her dark skin looks warm and healthy, you do spot some exhaustion in the lines between her eyes. “I guess we’re two birds of a feather in that regard,” you say in a tone that hopefully comes across as earnest.
Thianne’s expression gives nothing away, but she nods in agreement and returns to her work. It doesn’t take too long until you’ve gathered everything Thianne needs and she begins tying them together with strands of twine. Once they are all sorted into neat bundles and tucked away inside her satchel, she claps her hands together in satisfaction.
“A job well done. Thank you, $playername.” She’s silent for a moment as if ruminating on her next words. “Where would you like to go for our tea? We could go to the tea pavilion or my place.”
[[“Let’s go to the pavilion.”|Chapter4.6TA]]
[[“Let’s go to your place.”|Chapter4.6TB]]
[[“I don’t really have a preference.”|Chapter4.6TC]]“Yes, I suppose I do. Don’t most people?” Thianne says as the two of you begin harvesting.
“Well, not everyone,” you say with a shrug and let the conversation come to a halt.
You are already wearing gloves, so it’s no problem for you to pick the plants by hand while Thianne uses the sickle. The sun is warm and comforting on your back and the fresh smell of herbs lingers pleasantly in your nose. It’s almost serene and the silence between you and Thianne feels natural.
Still, you find yourself craving conversation at some point and seamlessly pick back up where you left some minutes ago. “Do you drink a lot of tea? I know for some people it's a daily ritual.”
Thianne hums in thought. “I don’t drink it every day, but I do enjoy it. Usually I just stick to water, but every once in a while a freshly brewed cup of tea is the best way to unwind.”
You can hear her shuffling around behind you, boots scuffing up the ground.
“I wouldn’t mind you joinin’ me for a cup once we’re done here. You do deserve some reward, I suppose.” Thianne sounds nonchalant and you can’t see her expression, but you get the feeling that she doesn’t usually extend invitations like that.
“I’d like that,” you answer genuinely. “It’s been a while since I last had tea.”
“Is it not… your cup of tea?” Thianne says slowly, letting the terrible joke hang in the air around you.
You let out something between a chuckle and a groan. “No, I like the flavour of tea. It’s just been a busy time for me lately, so there hasn’t been an opportunity to brew myself some or visit a tea house.”
“I get that. I also have a tendency to neglect my own well-bein’ in favour of gettin’ more work done.” Thianne turns to face you with a wry smile, gesturing at her satchel.
You are reminded of the fact that today is your supposed day off, and here you are, doing work. Enjoyable work, admittedly, but still. “When you phrase it like that it sounds like a serious problem.”
“Maybe it is. You know what they say, you can’t keep burnin’ a candle on both ends.” Thianne looks at you intently for an uncomfortably long time. “Let’s be quick about it and then get some tea. You look like you need it even more than I do.”
Instinctively, you raise a hand to rub at your eyes. “I don’t look bad, do I? Or weird?”
Even though you’ve never in your life lost your human appearance without consciously intending to do so, ever since last week you’ve been worried about slipping up. What if your skin suddenly started turning grey? How would Thianne react?
“I didn’t take you for the vain type,” Thianne says with a snort. “You just look tired, $playername.”
You take the time to truly look at Thianne, and although her dark skin looks warm and healthy, you do spot some exhaustion in the lines between her eyes. “I guess we’re two birds of a feather in that regard,” you say in a tone that hopefully comes across as earnest.
Thianne’s expression gives nothing away, but she nods in agreement and returns to her work. It doesn’t take too long until you’ve gathered everything Thianne needs and she begins tying them together with strands of twine. Once they are all sorted into neat bundles and tucked away inside her satchel, she claps her hands together in satisfaction.
“A job well done. Thank you, $playername.” She’s silent for a moment as if ruminating on her next words. “Where would you like to go for our tea? We could go to the tea pavilion or my place.”
[[“Let’s go to the pavilion.”|Chapter4.6TA]]
[[“Let’s go to your place.”|Chapter4.6TB]]
[[“I don’t really have a preference.”|Chapter4.6TC]]Thianne hums appreciatively as the two of you begin harvesting.
You are already wearing gloves, so it’s no problem for you to pick the plants by hand while Thianne uses the sickle. The sun is warm and comforting on your back and the fresh smell of herbs lingers pleasantly in your nose. It’s almost serene and the silence between you and Thianne feels natural.
Still, you find yourself craving conversation at some point and look for a way to start the conversation up again. Your eyes land on the tea leaves you've just picked. “Do you drink a lot of tea? I know for some people it's a daily ritual.”
Thianne hums in thought. “I don’t drink it every day, but I do enjoy it. Usually I just stick to water, but every once in a while a freshly brewed cup of tea is the best way to unwind.”
You can hear her shuffling around behind you, boots scuffing up the ground.
“I wouldn’t mind you joinin’ me for a cup once we’re done here. You do deserve some reward, I suppose.” Thianne sounds nonchalant and you can’t see her expression, but you get the feeling that she doesn’t usually extend invitations like that.
“I’d like that,” you answer genuinely. “It’s been a while since I last had tea.”
“Is it not… your cup of tea?” Thianne says slowly, letting the terrible joke hang in the air around you.
You let out something between a chuckle and a groan. “No, I like the flavour of tea. It’s just been a busy time for me lately, so there hasn’t been an opportunity to brew myself some or visit a tea house.”
“I get that. I also have a tendency to neglect my own well-bein’ in favour of gettin’ more work done.” Thianne turns to face you with a wry smile, gesturing at her satchel.
You are reminded of the fact that today is your supposed day off, and here you are, doing work. Enjoyable work, admittedly, but still. “When you phrase it like that it sounds like a serious problem.”
“Maybe it is. You know what they say, you can’t keep burnin’ a candle on both ends.” Thianne looks at you intently for an uncomfortably long time. “Let’s be quick about it and then get some tea. You look like you need it even more than I do.”
Instinctively, you raise a hand to rub at your eyes. “I don’t look bad, do I? Or weird?”
Even though you’ve never in your life lost your human appearance without consciously intending to do so, ever since last week you’ve been worried about slipping up. What if your skin suddenly started turning grey? How would Thianne react?
“I didn’t take you for the vain type,” Thianne says with a snort. “You just look tired, $playername.”
You take the time to truly look at Thianne, and although her dark skin looks warm and healthy, you do spot some exhaustion in the lines between her eyes. “I guess we’re two birds of a feather in that regard,” you say in a tone that hopefully comes across as earnest.
Thianne’s expression gives nothing away, but she nods in agreement and returns to her work. It doesn’t take too long until you’ve gathered everything Thianne needs and she begins tying them together with strands of twine. Once they are all sorted into neat bundles and tucked away inside her satchel, she claps her hands together in satisfaction.
“A job well done. Thank you, $playername.” She’s silent for a moment as if ruminating on her next words. “Where would you like to go for our tea? We could go to the tea pavilion or my place.”
[[“Let’s go to the pavilion.”|Chapter4.6TA]]
[[“Let’s go to your place.”|Chapter4.6TB]]
[[“I don’t really have a preference.”|Chapter4.6TC]]<<if $Vynn >= 70>> Their smile turns impossibly soft. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 70 >> Their smile turns slightly sardonic. <<endif>>\
“I don’t think it usually works like that for adults,” Vynn says. “We’re supposed to be independent now.”
“I don’t care,” you answer with a shrug. “I think now, more than ever, having someone to rely on is very important. Let me help you, Vynn.”
They avert their gaze. “Well, how could I possibly refuse when you’re looking at me like that? Fine then, make yourself useful and help me lift this chest. Let’s get it down the stairs first.”
You smile triumphantly as you grab one side of the chest and Vynn the other. Without having to coordinate, you both lift the chest at the same time and begin shuffling slowly out of the room. It is heavy, but nothing the two of you can’t handle together.
“You know that you can always ask for help too, right?” Vynn says between two strained grunts as you manoeuvre the chest through the doorway.
You use having to walk backwards as an excuse not to look them in the eyes. “Sure. What brought that on?”
“You seem a little stressed is all. Though I guess it’s more than understandable, what with you being the Champion now. I’m sure the prince is keeping you on your toes with all manner of new obligations and duties.” Vynn’s tone suddenly turns serious. “But I just want you to know that if he ever runs you too ragged or demands too much of you, I’ll have a word with him.”
You almost take a tumble down the stairs as surprised laughter escapes you. “What, you’ll file a complaint?”
Vynn attempts to shrug but the weight of the chest makes it so their shoulders barely move. “I’d fight him for you, you know. I’d fight the prince for you.”
You can’t help but crack up more, almost threatening to drop the chest on your own feet as you shake with incredulous laughter. “But you hate fighting!”
“For you I’d do it.” Vynn stares at you intently over the chest, though a twinkle in their eyes betrays their own amusement.
“Gods, we’ve only been separated for a week and already we are turning into sentimental fools.”
Vynn grins. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always been a sentimental fool, but I agree. Let’s talk about something else, at least while we’re carrying stuff. Tell me about the food in the castle. How good is it really on a day-to-day basis?”
You wouldn’t have minded hearing more about all the things Vynn would do for you but are fine with the change of topic. Although you don’t want to talk about the things that are really plaguing your mind, it simply feels good to tell someone about your week. It’s the same feeling you get when you visit your parents and they want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. It feels like coming home.
Vynn listens to you with genuine interest, asking follow-up questions or cracking jokes at opportune moments. It makes having to carry all of their stuff out of the barracks less daunting of a task. Once everything is outside, Vynn procures a wheel-barrow from Gods know where and you begin loading it with their possessions.
“Why’d you decide to move into the castle? I assume you have a reason for it,” you ask as you try to cram another crate into the space next to the wooden chest.
“I was hoping being stationed in the castle would be less work.”
That makes you pause. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, the idea is that knights in the castle are there for protection, right? So as long as no one breaches the castle, I won’t have to do much, right?” Vynn doesn’t sound particularly sure.
You start tugging at the seam of your gloves. “As long as everything stays as peaceful as it is now, I guess you’re right.”
Now it’s Vynn's turn to stop what they’re doing and look up. Their eyes meet yours and they start frowning. “You look worried. Have you heard any bad news?” they ask carefully.
Lady Maeve has only shown herself to you because she seems to think that a war is just around the corner. Judging by Az’Lean’s behaviour, he thinks much the same. It isn’t anything conclusive, but maybe there is cause to worry.
[[“No, I haven't heard anything. I just can’t help but be uncertain about the future.”|Chapter4.6VA]]
[[“There might have been talk in the castle about the possibility of a war with the fae. I wouldn’t put much stock in it.”|Chapter4.6VB]]
[[“Honestly, I’m a bit scared about what might happen in the future. Some people seem to think a war with the fae is imminent and I fear they might be right.”|Chapter4.6VC]]<<if $Vynn >= 70>> Their smile turns impossibly soft. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 70 >> Their smile turns slightly sardonic. <<endif>>\
“I appreciate that, $playername,” Vynn says. “I guess we’ll just have to make a bit more of an effort to spend time together.”
“Exactly, which is why I’m here now,” you say nonchalantly. “So will you let me help you get this done, Vynn?”
They avert their gaze. “Well, how could I possibly refuse when you’re looking at me like that? Fine then, make yourself useful and help me lift this chest. Let’s get it down the stairs first.”
You smile triumphantly as you grab one side of the chest and Vynn the other. Without having to coordinate, you both lift the chest at the same time and begin shuffling slowly out of the room. It is heavy, but nothing the two of you can’t handle together.
“You know that you can always ask for help too, right?” Vynn says between two strained grunts as you manoeuvre the chest through the doorway.
You use having to walk backwards as an excuse not to look them in the eyes. “Sure. What brought that on?”
“You seem a little stressed is all. Though I guess it’s more than understandable, what with you being the Champion new. I’m sure the prince is keeping you on your toes with all manner of new obligations and duties.” Vynn’s tone suddenly turns serious. “But I just want you to know that if he ever runs you too ragged or demands too much of you, I’ll have a word with him.”
You almost take a tumble down the stairs as surprised laughter escapes you. “What, you’ll file a complaint?”
Vynn attempts to shrug but the weight of the chest makes it so their shoulders barely move. “I’d fight him for you, you know. I’d fight the prince for you.”
You can’t help but crack up more, almost threatening to drop the chest on your own feet as you shake with incredulous laughter. “But you hate fighting!”
“For you I’d do it.” Vynn stares at you intently over the chest, though a twinkle in their eyes betrays their own amusement.
“Gods, we’ve only been separated for a week and already we are turning into sentimental fools.”
Vynn grins. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always been a sentimental fool, but I agree. Let’s talk about something else, at least while we’re carrying stuff. Tell me about the food in the castle. How good is it really on a day-to-day basis?”
You wouldn’t have minded hearing more about all the things Vynn would do for you but are fine with the change of topic. Although you don’t want to talk about the things that are really plaguing your mind, it simply feels good to tell someone about your week. It’s the same feeling you get when you visit your parents and they want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. It feels like coming home.
Vynn listens to you with genuine interest, asking follow-up questions or cracking jokes at opportune moments. It makes having to carry all of their stuff out of the barracks less daunting of a task. Once everything is outside, Vynn procures a wheel-barrow from Gods know where and you begin loading it with their possessions.
“Why’d you decide to move into the castle? I assume you have a reason for it,” you ask as you try to cram another crate into the space next to the wooden chest.
“I was hoping being stationed in the castle would be less work.”
That makes you pause. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, the idea is that knights in the castle are there for protection, right? So as long as no one breaches the castle, I won’t have to do much, right?” Vynn doesn’t sound particularly sure.
You start tugging at the seam of your gloves. “As long as everything stays as peaceful as it is now, I guess you’re right.”
Now it’s Vynn's turn to stop what they’re doing and look up. Their eyes meet yours and they start frowning. “You look worried. Have you heard any bad news?” they ask carefully.
Lady Maeve has only shown herself to you because she seems to think that a war is just around the corner. Judging by Az’Lean’s behaviour, he thinks much the same. It isn’t anything conclusive, but maybe there is cause to worry.
[[“No, I haven't heard anything. I just can’t help but be uncertain about the future.”|Chapter4.6VA]]
[[“There might have been talk in the castle about the possibility of a war with the fae. I wouldn’t put much stock in it.”|Chapter4.6VB]]
[[“Honestly, I’m a bit scared about what might happen in the future. Some people seem to think a war with the fae is imminent and I fear they might be right.”|Chapter4.6VC]]<<if $Vynn >= 70>> Their smile turns impossibly soft. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 70 >> Their smile turns slightly sardonic. <<endif>>\
“And what would that mean for us?” Vynn asks curiously. “Fonder than we already are of each other?”
“You don’t think it’s possible?”
Vynn stares up at you. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll find out then, I suppose,” you say confidently. “Now will you let me help you with this or not?”
They avert their gaze. “Well, how could I possibly refuse when you’re looking at me like that? Fine then, make yourself useful and help me lift this chest. Let’s get it down the stairs first.”
You smile triumphantly as you grab one side of the chest and Vynn the other. Without having to coordinate, you both lift the chest at the same time and begin shuffling slowly out of the room. It is heavy, but nothing the two of you can’t handle together.
“You know that you can always ask for help too, right?” Vynn says between two strained grunts as you manoeuvre the chest through the doorway.
You use having to walk backwards as an excuse not to look them in the eyes. “Sure. What brought that on?”
“You seem a little stressed is all. Though I guess it’s more than understandable, what with you being the Champion now. I’m sure the prince is keeping you on your toes with all manner of new obligations and duties.” Vynn’s tone suddenly turns serious. “But I just want you to know that if he ever runs you too ragged or demands too much of you, I’ll have a word with him.”
You almost take a tumble down the stairs as surprised laughter escapes you. “What, you’ll file a complaint?”
Vynn attempts to shrug but the weight of the chest makes it so their shoulders barely move. “I’d fight him for you, you know. I’d fight the prince for you.”
You can’t help but crack up more, almost threatening to drop the chest on your own feet as you shake with incredulous laughter. “But you hate fighting!”
“For you I’d do it.” Vynn stares at you intently over the chest, though a twinkle in their eyes betrays their own amusement.
“Gods, we’ve only been separated for a week and already we are turning into sentimental fools.”
Vynn grins. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always been a sentimental fool, but I agree. Let’s talk about something else, at least while we’re carrying stuff. Tell me about the food in the castle. How good is it really on a day-to-day basis?”
You wouldn’t have minded hearing more about all the things Vynn would do for you but are fine with the change of topic. Although you don’t want to talk about the things that are really plaguing your mind, it simply feels good to tell someone about your week. It’s the same feeling you get when you visit your parents and they want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. It feels like coming home.
Vynn listens to you with genuine interest, asking follow-up questions or cracking jokes at opportune moments. It makes having to carry all of their stuff out of the barracks less daunting of a task. Once everything is outside, Vynn procures a wheel-barrow from Gods know where and you begin loading it with their possessions.
“Why’d you decide to move into the castle? I assume you have a reason for it,” you ask as you try to cram another crate into the space next to the wooden chest.
“I was hoping being stationed in the castle would be less work.”
That makes you pause. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, the idea is that knights in the castle are there for protection, right? So as long as no one breaches the castle, I won’t have to do much, right?” Vynn doesn’t sound particularly sure.
You start tugging at the seam of your gloves. “As long as everything stays as peaceful as it is now, I guess you’re right.”
Now it’s Vynn's turn to stop what they’re doing and look up. Their eyes meet yours and they start frowning. “You look worried. Have you heard any bad news?” they ask carefully.
Lady Maeve has only shown herself to you because she seems to think that a war is just around the corner. Judging by Az’Lean’s behaviour, he thinks much the same. It isn’t anything conclusive, but maybe there is cause to worry.
[[“No, I haven't heard anything. I just can’t help but be uncertain about the future.”|Chapter4.6VA]]
[[“There might have been talk in the castle about the possibility of a war with the fae. I wouldn’t put much stock in it.”|Chapter4.6VB]]
[[“Honestly, I’m a bit scared about what might happen in the future. Some people seem to think a war with the fae is imminent and I fear they might be right.”|Chapter4.6VC]]“Do you think it would be alright if I were to pet her?” you ask tentatively.
Az’Lean looks thoughtful for a moment, running his index finger along Kaz’s very sharp beak. “What do you say girl? Can $playername pet you too?”
Kaz chirps in what you interpret to be affirmative. Slowly, Az’Lean holds his arm with her perched on it out towards you, his eyes fixed on the falcon in cautious concentration. “Make sure you only touch her head or her feet. Back off immediately if she clicks her beak.”
“Understood.” Slowly, you extend your gloved hand towards Kaz. You pause in front of her, trying to gauge her reaction. Pitch black eyes stare at you with interest and don’t indicate any sort of negative reaction. With bated breath you rest your index finger on her head - as softly and as delicately as you can muster.
Immediately, Kaz tilts her head slightly to accommodate for your touch. It doesn’t take long before she chirps happily, content with letting you pet her.
A giddy feeling blooms in your chest and it must have shown on your face.
Az’Lean’s gaze turns unbelievably soft. “Kaz seems to like you. Do you usually have a knack for animals?”
You vaguely remember Lady Maeve mentioning something to that effect - something about changelings having an affinity for all manner of plants and beasts. Even if there’s some truth to that, you feel like you’d be good with animals regardless.
“You could say that. They seem to tolerate me at the very least,” you say with a shrug. “I remember a few years ago Vynn and I broke into a geese pen. Didn’t go so well for them but I could just walk back out.”
Az’Lean raises an eyebrow. “Impressive, though I have to ask why in the Gods’ names would you break into a geese pen?”
“There was a rumour going around about something being hidden in it.”
“What, a treasure?”
You somewhat awkwardly clear your throat. “No, no, something of a more explicit nature.”
Az’Lean stares at you for a good ten seconds before his face twists in realisation. You could have almost sworn he was faintly blushing. “Oh. So?”
“So what?”
Az’Lean looks sheepish. “Did you find it? Was it in the geese pen?”
“Oh, no,” you say with a laugh. “I think that rumour was just made up to bait dumb teenagers into getting bitten by geese.”
“It’s those types of experiences one misses out on being a prince, I suppose.” There’s something like wistfulness shining in his eyes. Immediately, an idea starts to form in your mind.
“I really don’t think you missed much. Though if you’d like we could do something stupid next time?” You deliberately phrase it as a question.
Az’Lean seems a little taken aback, returning to pet Kaz in order to keep his hands busy. “Next time?”
You nod encouragingly. “When we get another spot of free time, I mean.”
“Now there’s a thought. I take it you’re an expert in all manner of foolish ventures and absolutely idiotic mishaps?” A teasing grin finds its way onto his face.
“I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I do have a few years of experience in it.” You puff out your chest in mock confidence. “So it’s a deal then? There’ll be a next time and we’ll do something utterly bereft of intelligence?”
Az’Lean’s grin doesn’t fade entirely, but it turns subtle. “It’s a deal, $playername.”
He holds out his hand towards you to shake on it. Kaz stares down at it with her curious black eyes.
[[Take it.|Chapter4.7AA]]
[[Remove your glove before you take it.|Chapter4.7AB]]You are more than content to keep watching Az’Lean and Kaz. At some point, the falcon’s pitch black eyes seem to make contact with yours and the bird chirps loudly. Az’Lean looks up at this, curiously glancing between Kaz and you.
“Az’Lean takes good care of you, doesn’t he?” you ask the falcon with an amused smile.
She immediately responds by clicking her beak and screeching.
You get the feeling you understand what she is trying to communicate. “I know, I know. He’s a very busy man. Being a prince isn’t easy, you know?”
Kaz moves her head slightly and you could almost interpret it as some sort of nod - then she proceeds to press her head against Az’Lean’s hand.
“She really is incredibly intelligent,” you comment. “I like her.”
Az’Lean’s gaze turns unbelievably soft. “Kaz seems to like you too. Do you usually have a knack for animals?”
You vaguely remember Lady Maeve mentioning something to that effect - something about changelings having an affinity for all manner of plants and beasts. Even if there’s some truth to that, you feel like you’d be good with animals regardless.
“You could say that. They seem to tolerate me at the very least,” you say with a shrug. “I remember a few years ago Vynn and I broke into a geese pen. Didn’t go so well for them but I could just walk back out.”
Az’Lean raises an eyebrow. “Impressive, though I have to ask why in the Gods’ names would you break into a geese pen?”
“There was a rumour going around about something being hidden in it.”
“What, a treasure?”
You somewhat awkwardly clear your throat. “No, no, something of a more explicit nature.”
Az’Lean stares at you for a good ten seconds before his face twists in realisation. You could have almost sworn he was faintly blushing. “Oh. So?”
“So what?”
Az’Lean looks sheepish. “Did you find it? Was it in the geese pen?”
“Oh, no,” you say with a laugh. “I think that rumour was just made up to bait dumb teenagers into getting bitten by geese.”
“It’s those types of experiences one misses out on being a prince, I suppose.” There’s something like wistfulness shining in his eyes. Immediately, an idea starts to form in your mind.
“I really don’t think you missed much. Though if you’d like we could do something stupid next time?” You deliberately phrase it as a question.
Az’Lean seems a little taken aback, returning to pet Kaz in order to keep his hands busy. “Next time?”
You nod encouragingly. “When we get another spot of free time, I mean.”
“Now there’s a thought. I take it you’re an expert in all manner of foolish ventures and absolutely idiotic mishaps?” A teasing grin finds its way onto his face.
“I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I do have a few years of experience in it.” You puff out your chest in mock confidence. “So it’s a deal then? There’ll be a next time and we’ll do something utterly bereft of intelligence?”
Az’Lean’s grin doesn’t fade entirely, but it turns subtle. “It’s a deal, $playername.”
He holds out his hand towards you to shake on it. Kaz stares down at it with her curious black eyes.
[[Take it.|Chapter4.7AA]]
[[Remove your glove before you take it.|Chapter4.7AB]]Lester smiles genuinely. "You should only do it when someone experienced is around though. You never know how your first smoke will turn out."
"So then I'll only do it when I'm in your company," you suggest with a bit of humour and a hint of a promise.
His smile turns into a delighted grin. "I'm not opposed to that at all."
Once you have finished eating, Lester leads you into a tiny, unassuming looking shop nestled between a bakery and a tea shop. A bell dings once he pushes the wooden door open and the two of you step inside into a cozy little room. There's not much in here - only a counter, a few cabinets, and on old plush sofa in the corner.
"This is what an Otherleaf shop looks like?" you can't help but ask.
Lester laughs unabashedly. "What, did you think it was filled with smoke?"
"Not exactly, but I didn't expect this," you say with a shrug.
A sound behind the counter catches you off guard, even more so when a woman seems to appear there out of nowhere. It is only when you step closer that you notice a trap door and a ladder behind the counter, seemingly leading into a basement of some kind.
The woman is dressed in blue robes that almost remind you of the type of thing a priestess would wear - her neat hair and serene expression would fit too.
"The usual, Lester?" she asks politely, already opening one of the cabinets before he even has the chance to answer.
"A little extra today, Lana," Lester says as he leans against the counter.
You stand there somewhat awkwardly, watching the transaction unfold in silence. Lana retrieves a tightly sealed package from the caabinet and hands it to Lester in exchange for a handful of gold. It is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit the bundle into the pocket of his vest.
"Is that all?" Lana asks, glancing at you.
"That's all," Lester says and you nod in confirmation. Just as you're about to wish Lana a good day, the door to the shop opens again with the chime of bell.
Two men enter, their conversation slowly dying down. Although nothing has happened yet, the hairs on your arms are standing on end and you immediately tense up. You can see Lester going still out of the corner of your eye and Lana suddenly looks worried.
The two men exchange glances before looking at you, then at Lana, and finally ending on Lester. They're quite obviously staring at him.
"What is that?" one of them finally asks, genuine confusion mixed with barely hidden disgust. "Is that like some kind of birth defect?"
Your blood immediately starts to boil at the blatant disrespect.
"I think that's a fae, man," the other one whispers, then louder: "Miss, I think your customer is a fae."
"I'm a half-fae, dipshit," Lester says while flipping him off. "Get your fucking eyes checked."
The man instantly goes red and you can tell he's going to fly off the handle, so you casually step in front of Lester.
"That's enough," you say, projecting authority into your voice.
"I quite agree," Lana says tensely. "Dear Champion, would you be so kind as to escort these gentlemen out of my shop?"
Although you didn't know that Lana knew who you were, you're not surprised to hear it - a lot of people watched the battle royale or attended Az'Lean's birthday feast. You are very glad for the assist, however.
"I'd love to," you say, taking a step forward. It's difficult not to take pleasure in the fact that the two men are clearly at least somewhat intimidated, even if just by your title.
One of them scrambles backwards, realisation on his face. "That's the knight that absolutely wrecked shop in that tournament and almost beat the prince!"
"I thought the Champion would be fighting fae, not making friends with them," the other spits out before dashing out of the door. His companion looks startled before quickly following suit.
"HALF-FAE!" Lester shouts after them, though they neither seem to hear him nor care about the distinction.
"What a mess," Lana says while rubbing her temples.
Lester lets out a weary sigh before plopping down on the sofa. You take a seat next to him.
"Do people always treat you with such contempt?"
He shrugs. "It's just part of the deal when it comes to being half-fae. The fact that you're willing to spend time with me makes you remarkably unprejudiced for a human."
Something clenches in your chest. "That's sad to hear."
"Sad? Maybe, though unlike these assholes, most people have a good reason to fear the fae - and us by extension. Half-fae rarely live peacful lives, not without reason of course, but it's true that we're dangerous in some capacity." Lester almost sounds proud as he says it.
You think back on whatever it is he has done to his door. "I gathered that much already."
He grins broadly, baring all his teeth. "Yet you're still here."
[[”I don't mind a little danger from time to time.”|Chapter4.7LA]]
[[”If you're dangerous, better to get on your good side, right?”|Chapter4.7LB]]
[[”I think if anything, you should be wary of me.”|Chapter4.7LC]]"That's a good idea. Are you having a rough time of it lately? Is everything all right?" Lester looks genuinely worried.
You shrug. "A lot has been happening lately and I'm just trying to cope with it. Don't worry."
"I guess becomin Champion is a big change, after all. If you ever want to talk about your troubles I can't promise I won't make fun of you, but I guess I'll at least listen." Lester grins viciously.
You return his grin with a humourless one of your own. "I appreciate your bottomless kindness, Lester."
Once you have finished eating, Lester leads you into a tiny, unassuming looking shop nestled between a bakery and a tea shop. A bell dings once he pushes the wooden door open and the two of you step inside into a cozy little room. There's not much in here - only a counter, a few cabinets, and on old plush sofa in the corner.
"This is what an Otherleaf shop looks like?" you can't help but ask.
Lester laughs unabashedly. "What, did you think it was filled with smoke?"
"Not exactly, but I didn't expect this," you say with a shrug.
A sound behind the counter catches you off guard, even more so when a woman seems to appear there out of nowhere. It is only when you step closer that you notice a trap door and a ladder behind the counter, seemingly leading into a basement of some kind.
The woman is dressed in blue robes that almost remind you of the type of thing a priestess would wear - her neat hair and serene expression would fit too.
"The usual, Lester?" she asks politely, already opening one of the cabinets before he even has the chance to answer.
"A little extra today, Lana," Lester says as he leans against the counter.
You stand there somewhat awkwardly, watching the transaction unfold in silence. Lana retrieves a tightly sealed package from the caabinet and hands it to Lester in exchange for a handful of gold. It is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit the bundle into the pocket of his vest.
"Is that all?" Lana asks, glancing at you.
"That's all," Lester says and you nod in confirmation. Just as you're about to wish Lana a good day, the door to the shop opens again with the chime of bell.
Two men enter, their conversation slowly dying down. Although nothing has happened yet, the hairs on your arms are standing on end and you immediately tense up. You can see Lester going still out of the corner of your eye and Lana suddenly looks worried.
The two men exchange glances before looking at you, then at Lana, and finally ending on Lester. They're quite obviously staring at him.
"What is that?" one of them finally asks, genuine confusion mixed with barely hidden disgust. "Is that like some kind of birth defect?"
Your blood immediately starts to boil at the blatant disrespect.
"I think that's a fae, man," the other one whispers, then louder: "Miss, I think your customer is a fae."
"I'm a half-fae, dipshit," Lester says while flipping him off. "Get your fucking eyes checked."
The man instantly goes red and you can tell he's going to fly off the handle, so you casually step in front of Lester.
"That's enough," you say, projecting authority into your voice.
"I quite agree," Lana says tensely. "Dear Champion, would you be so kind as to escort these gentlemen out of my shop?"
Although you didn't know that Lana knew who you were, you're not surprised to hear it - a lot of people watched the battle royale or attended Az'Lean's birthday feast. You are very glad for the assist, however.
"I'd love to," you say, taking a step forward. It's difficult not to take pleasure in the fact that the two men are clearly at least somewhat intimidated, even if just by your title.
One of them scrambles backwards, realisation on his face. "That's the knight that absolutely wrecked shop in that tournament and almost beat the prince!"
"I thought the Champion would be fighting fae, not making friends with them," the other spits out before dashing out of the door. His companion looks startled before quickly following suit.
"HALF-FAE!" Lester shouts after them, though they neither seem to hear him nor care about the distinction.
"What a mess," Lana says while rubbing her temples.
Lester lets out a weary sigh before plopping down on the sofa. You take a seat next to him.
"Do people always treat you with such contempt?"
He shrugs. "It's just part of the deal when it comes to being half-fae. The fact that you're willing to spend time with me makes you remarkably unprejudiced for a human."
Something clenches in your chest. "That's sad to hear."
"Sad? Maybe, though unlike these assholes, most people have a good reason to fear the fae - and us by extension. Half-fae rarely live peacful lives, not without reason of course, but it's true that we're dangerous in some capacity." Lester almost sounds proud as he says it.
You think back on whatever it is he has done to his door. "I gathered that much already."
He grins broadly, baring all his teeth. "Yet you're still here."
[[”I don't mind a little danger from time to time.”|Chapter4.7LA]]
[[”If you're dangerous, better to get on your good side, right?”|Chapter4.7LB]]
[[”I think if anything, you should be wary of me.”|Chapter4.7LC]]"That is completely fair. Sometimes I think it's a bad habit - or at the very least an expensive one. But then I think I deserve to indulge in those kinds of pleasures every once in a while. Everything in moderation." Lester nods sagely.
You hum in agreement. "That goes for most things in life, right? Even good things lose their value if you're oversaturated with it."
"And that's exactly why we shouldn't see each other every day - to make these occasions something special." Lester grins up at you and you can't help but return it.
Once you have finished eating, Lester leads you into a tiny, unassuming looking shop nestled between a bakery and a tea shop. A bell dings once he pushes the wooden door open and the two of you step inside into a cozy little room. There's not much in here - only a counter, a few cabinets, and on old plush sofa in the corner.
"This is what an Otherleaf shop looks like?" you can't help but ask.
Lester laughs unabashedly. "What, did you think it was filled with smoke?"
"Not exactly, but I didn't expect this," you say with a shrug.
A sound behind the counter catches you off guard, even more so when a woman seems to appear there out of nowhere. It is only when you step closer that you notice a trap door and a ladder behind the counter, seemingly leading into a basement of some kind.
The woman is dressed in blue robes that almost remind you of the type of thing a priestess would wear - her neat hair and serene expression would fit too.
"The usual, Lester?" she asks politely, already opening one of the cabinets before he even has the chance to answer.
"A little extra today, Lana," Lester says as he leans against the counter.
You stand there somewhat awkwardly, watching the transaction unfold in silence. Lana retrieves a tightly sealed package from the caabinet and hands it to Lester in exchange for a handful of gold. It is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit the bundle into the pocket of his vest.
"Is that all?" Lana asks, glancing at you.
"That's all," Lester says and you nod in confirmation. Just as you're about to wish Lana a good day, the door to the shop opens again with the chime of bell.
Two men enter, their conversation slowly dying down. Although nothing has happened yet, the hairs on your arms are standing on end and you immediately tense up. You can see Lester going still out of the corner of your eye and Lana suddenly looks worried.
The two men exchange glances before looking at you, then at Lana, and finally ending on Lester. They're quite obviously staring at him.
"What is that?" one of them finally asks, genuine confusion mixed with barely hidden disgust. "Is that like some kind of birth defect?"
Your blood immediately starts to boil at the blatant disrespect.
"I think that's a fae, man," the other one whispers, then louder: "Miss, I think your customer is a fae."
"I'm a half-fae, dipshit," Lester says while flipping him off. "Get your fucking eyes checked."
The man instantly goes red and you can tell he's going to fly off the handle, so you casually step in front of Lester.
"That's enough," you say, projecting authority into your voice.
"I quite agree," Lana says tensely. "Dear Champion, would you be so kind as to escort these gentlemen out of my shop?"
Although you didn't know that Lana knew who you were, you're not surprised to hear it - a lot of people watched the battle royale or attended Az'Lean's birthday feast. You are very glad for the assist, however.
"I'd love to," you say, taking a step forward. It's difficult not to take pleasure in the fact that the two men are clearly at least somewhat intimidated, even if just by your title.
One of them scrambles backwards, realisation on his face. "That's the knight that absolutely wrecked shop in that tournament and almost beat the prince!"
"I thought the Champion would be fighting fae, not making friends with them," the other spits out before dashing out of the door. His companion looks startled before quickly following suit.
"HALF-FAE!" Lester shouts after them, though they neither seem to hear him nor care about the distinction.
"What a mess," Lana says while rubbing her temples.
Lester lets out a weary sigh before plopping down on the sofa. You take a seat next to him.
"Do people always treat you with such contempt?"
He shrugs. "It's just part of the deal when it comes to being half-fae. The fact that you're willing to spend time with me makes you remarkably unprejudiced for a human."
Something clenches in your chest. "That's sad to hear."
"Sad? Maybe, though unlike these assholes, most people have a good reason to fear the fae - and us by extension. Half-fae rarely live peacful lives, not without reason of course, but it's true that we're dangerous in some capacity." Lester almost sounds proud as he says it.
You think back on whatever it is he has done to his door. "I gathered that much already."
He grins broadly, baring all his teeth. "Yet you're still here."
[[”I don't mind a little danger from time to time.”|Chapter4.7LA]]
[[”If you're dangerous, better to get on your good side, right?”|Chapter4.7LB]]
[[”I think if anything, you should be wary of me.”|Chapter4.7LC]]You remember passing by the tea pavilion during your tour with Az’Lean, but you haven’t had the opportunity yet to enjoy it in its full splendour. In essence, it is a large glass half-dome that houses numerous exotic plants and the most colourful of flowers. Butterflies are freely flying around, adding even more life. Sweet, hypnotic scents hang in the air, and the people seated at the various small, round tables all look utterly relaxed.
The clientele appears to be mostly nobles but some of the scholars and mages could be commoners, you suppose. While there are servants attending to the visitors, it is mostly a place where one brews their own tea and brings their own food. Various ceramic pots, cups, and plates can be borrowed from a display near the entrance, and every one of the small tables is equipped with a stone plate in the centre of it that is magically enchanted to heat up on demand.
“Should we use the fresh ones we harvested or get some dried tea leaves?” you ask Thianne as you pick out a simple set of white cups.
Thianne shrugs. “I usually prefer dried, but since we already have them with us, why not just try usin’ them fresh? Won’t kill us, I’m pretty sure.”
While you are tasked with retrieving water from a well placed between large, dark green ferns, Thianne secures you a table near the glass wall. From there, you are able to look out into a courtyard that looks a lot more washed out and grey than the vibrant inside of the pavilion by comparison.
Thianne doesn’t waste time and begins brewing the tea while you take a moment to relax and watch a pair of red butterflies dancing through the air.
“This is nice,” you say and truly let yourself sag into your chair. It isn’t cushioned, but you don’t care. “We should make a routine out of this.”
Thianne hands you your steaming hot cup. It’s very aromatic and enticing.
“You mean as a way to hold ourselves accountable for some regular relaxation?” Thianne asks while cradling her own cup in her hands. “Sounds like a commitment.”
You shake your head. “It doesn’t have to be. It would just be nice if this weren’t a one time thing, you know?”
“That much I can agree with.” Thianne takes a careful sip, immediately scrunching up her face. “It’s still hot.”
You can’t help but smile. “It’s only been a few seconds.”
“I know. I’m not very good at waitin’,” she grumbles. “Feels like my time perception is all off. I blink and suddenly the whole day has passed, but when I have to wait for my tea to cool down it takes ages.”
“I wonder why it’s like that,” you say. “My friend Vynn always says our training takes ages, but for me it’s always over too quickly.”
“Different priorities. Maybe I should learn to enjoy the moments when my tea is too hot to drink. Then they’d go by faster.” Thianne stares into her cup as if willing it to cool down.
“I feel like there’s some wisdom somewhere in there.” You decide to take a small sip now as well. It is still hot, but not to the point of burning your mouth. The taste is fresh and sharp, with a slightly bitter twang to it. Next time you’ll have to bring something sweet to eat to balance out the flavour. “It should be good now,” you let Thianne know.”
She starts drinking and soon gives you an appreciative nod. “Fresh leaves aren’t too bad. Make sure to not throw them away, you can use them multiple times. The second-infusion is usually even better than the first.”
You glance at the loose leaves stuck to the inside of your cup. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
“There is some valuable knowledge stored up here, on occasion.” Thianne taps her temple. “Most of it is magical theory, though.”
It feels like the conversation is finally flowing properly and Thianne just gave you the perfect chance for a follow-up question.
[[“Do you enjoy the pursuit of knowledge?”|Chapter4.7TA]]
[[“What made you focus on magic as a field of study?”|Chapter4.7TB]]<<set $Thiannehome to "yes">>\
“I live outside the castle, but it isn’t too far. Come on, I’ll show you the way.”
Thianne leads you out of the castle and onto the market place. She stops in front of a small timbered house, sandwiched in between two larger ones. Two flower boxes full of lavender stand on either side of the door.
“I live on the upper floor,” Thianne explains as she fishes a key out of the pocket of her cloak. She opens the door and reveals a small entrance area filled with coats, boots, and a lot of different bags and baskets. On the left is another door with a nameplate on it, and on the right is a ladder that leads upwards to a trap door.
Thianne starts climbing the ladder, pushing the trap door open once she is at the top. It creaks loudly. “It’s a bit inconvenient, sorry,” she says as she leans down and signals you to follow her.
“It does have a certain charm about it though,” you say as you follow her up.
As you peek your head into the upper floor with curiosity, you immediately spot the most cosy fireplace you have ever seen across from you. It is made from red bricks, dried flowers and colourful chimes are hung above it, two chairs filled with pillows and blankets stand on either side of it, and a soft-looking burgundy rug is rolled out in front of it. The fire is unlit but there is a small pot suspended above, and it smells like anise and cinnamon.
You climb through the opening and allow yourself to look around some more. There is a small kitchen area next to the fireplace, a round table with three chairs, and stacks upon stacks of books. Old candles are stuck to the table, the counter, and the floor - red wax pooling around them like dried blood. From the rafters above you hangs a large scroll that looks like it would reach down to the wooden floor if unrolled.
There is one small, round window, and a door that certainly leads to a different part of Thianne’s home.
“Make yourself at home,” Thianne says as she immediately begins to rummage through her kitchen cabinets. “Tea will be done soon. I’ll use fresh leaves if that’s alright.”
“That’s fine,” you say as you sit down at the small round table, idly running your hand across it. You take a moment to relax as you watch Thianne get to work on brewing.
“You’ve got quite a lovely place, Thianne,” you say.
She hums appreciatively as she pours two cups and moves to join you at the table.
“This is nice,” you say and truly let yourself sag into your chair. It isn’t cushioned, but you don’t care. “We should make a routine out of this.”
Thianne hands you your steaming hot cup. It’s very aromatic and enticing.
“You mean as a way to hold ourselves accountable for some regular relaxation?” Thianne asks while cradling her own cup in her hands. “Sounds like a commitment.”
You shake your head. “It doesn’t have to be. It would just be nice if this weren’t a one time thing, you know?”
“That much I can agree with.” Thianne takes a careful sip, immediately scrunching up her face. “It’s still hot.”
You can’t help but smile. “It’s only been a few seconds.”
“I know. I’m not very good at waitin’,” she grumbles. “Feels like my time perception is all off. I blink and suddenly the whole day has passed, but when I have to wait for my tea to cool down it takes ages.”
“I wonder why it’s like that,” you say. “My friend Vynn always says our training takes ages, but for me it’s always over too quickly.”
“Different priorities. Maybe I should learn to enjoy the moments when my tea is too hot to drink. Then they’d go by faster.” Thianne stares into her cup as if willing it to cool down.
“I feel like there’s some wisdom somewhere in there.” You decide to take a small sip now as well. It is still hot, but not to the point of burning your mouth. The taste is fresh and sharp, with a slightly bitter twang to it. Next time you’ll have to bring something sweet to eat to balance out the flavour. “It should be good now,” you let Thianne know.”
She starts drinking and soon gives you an appreciative nod. “Fresh leaves aren’t too bad. Make sure to not throw them away, you can use them multiple times. The second-infusion is usually even better than the first.”
You glance at the loose leaves stuck to the inside of your cup. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
“There is some valuable knowledge stored up here, on occasion.” Thianne taps her temple. “Most of it is magical theory, though.”
It feels like the conversation is finally flowing properly and Thianne just gave you the perfect chance for a follow-up question.
[[“Do you enjoy the pursuit of knowledge?”|Chapter4.7TA]]
[[“What made you focus on magic as a field of study?”|Chapter4.7TB]]Thianne doesn’t seem impressed by your lack of opinion. “If that’s the case, let’s go to the pavilion. It’s closer.”
You remember passing by the tea pavilion during your tour with Az’Lean, but you haven’t had the opportunity yet to enjoy it in its full splendour. In essence, it is a large glass half-dome that houses numerous exotic plants and the most colourful of flowers. Butterflies are freely flying around, adding even more life. Sweet, hypnotic scents hang in the air, and the people seated at the various small, round tables all look utterly relaxed.
The clientele appears to be mostly nobles but some of the scholars and mages could be commoners, you suppose. While there are servants attending to the visitors, it is mostly a place where one brews their own tea and brings their own food. Various ceramic pots, cups, and plates can be borrowed from a display near the entrance, and every one of the small tables is equipped with a stone plate in the centre of it that is magically enchanted to heat up on demand.
“Should we use the fresh ones we harvested or get some dried tea leaves?” you ask Thianne as you pick out a simple set of white cups.
Thianne shrugs. “I usually prefer dried, but since we already have them with us, why not just try usin’ them fresh? Won’t kill us, I’m pretty sure.”
While you are tasked with retrieving water from a well placed between large, dark green ferns, Thianne secures you a table near the glass wall. From there, you are able to look out into a courtyard that looks a lot more washed out and grey than the vibrant inside of the pavilion by comparison.
Thianne doesn’t waste time and begins brewing the tea while you take a moment to relax and watch a pair of red butterflies dancing through the air.
“This is nice,” you say and truly let yourself sag into your chair. It isn’t cushioned, but you don’t care. “We should make a routine out of this.”
Thianne hands you your steaming hot cup. It’s very aromatic and enticing.
“You mean as a way to hold ourselves accountable for some regular relaxation?” Thianne asks while cradling her own cup in her hands. “Sounds like a commitment.”
You shake your head. “It doesn’t have to be. It would just be nice if this weren’t a one time thing, you know?”
“That much I can agree with.” Thianne takes a careful sip, immediately scrunching up her face. “It’s still hot.”
You can’t help but smile. “It’s only been a few seconds.”
“I know. I’m not very good at waitin’,” she grumbles. “Feels like my time perception is all off. I blink and suddenly the whole day has passed, but when I have to wait for my tea to cool down it takes ages.”
“I wonder why it’s like that,” you say. “My friend Vynn always says our training takes ages, but for me it’s always over too quickly.”
“Different priorities. Maybe I should learn to enjoy the moments when my tea is too hot to drink. Then they’d go by faster.” Thianne stares into her cup as if willing it to cool down.
“I feel like there’s some wisdom somewhere in there.” You decide to take a small sip now as well. It is still hot, but not to the point of burning your mouth. The taste is fresh and sharp, with a slightly bitter twang to it. Next time you’ll have to bring something sweet to eat to balance out the flavour. “It should be good now,” you let Thianne know.”
She starts drinking and soon gives you an appreciative nod. “Fresh leaves aren’t too bad. Make sure to not throw them away, you can use them multiple times. The second-infusion is usually even better than the first.”
You glance at the loose leaves stuck to the inside of your cup. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
“There is some valuable knowledge stored up here, on occasion.” Thianne taps her temple. “Most of it is magical theory, though.”
It feels like the conversation is finally flowing properly and Thianne just gave you the perfect chance for a follow-up question.
[[“Do you enjoy the pursuit of knowledge?”|Chapter4.7TA]]
[[“What made you focus on magic as a field of study?”|Chapter4.7TB]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
“I can understand that. I feel the same way sometimes, when I lay awake at night and wonder about what will happen next,” Vynn says and looks thoughtful for a moment. “But if you haven’t heard anything, I guess my plan is valid. I figure the castle is the safest place in the kingdom, and the fact that the prince offered me to move there is a privilege I plan to take full advantage of.”
“I certainly won’t mind seeing you around more often. Which wing is your room located in?”
“It’s in the tower between the eastern and northern wing,” Vynn explains and begins pushing the now full wheelbarrow. The uneven cobblestone makes it difficult to traverse the streets, so you grab hold of the side of it to help with steering.
“My room’s in the southern wing. I can show you exactly where it is later, but let’s focus on moving all your stuff first. I get the feeling if we take a break, we’ll immediately get distracted,” you say fondly. You’ve never minded it when Vynn distracted you during training or anything else. How could you when their distractions were always so charming and fun?
Vynn perks up. “Should I sing you a song while we’re at it? I’ve been writing this one for a while now. It’ll ease the work, I promise.”
You hesitate for a moment but relent quickly when Vynn looks at you with their large dark eyes. “Sure, go right ahead.”
They clear their throat theatrically and begin to sing softly as you wrangle a wheelbarrow through the streets of Gaitanis towards the castle.
<i>By day, by night
You show your might
Oh great, oh bright Aurendil.
You light the way,
Won’t let me stay,
My fated guide Aurendil.
So why then can I never leave?
How often will I have to grieve?
Oh save me now,
I don’t care how.
Goodbye,
Goodbye, Aurendil.
You’re burning out.
You’re burning still.
How many days,
My Aurendil?</i>
Vynn keeps repeating the same four stanzas for a while before they grow tired of it. They continue humming the melody, melancholy and slow, for a while longer. It seems to be an ode to Aurendil, the brightest star in the sky, which is also the name of one of the old Gods, though you don’t know much about them.
“That was beautiful, Vynn,” you say in a moment of quiet. You refrain from asking any questions about their song, knowing that the meaning behind it is often only for them to know.
Vynn smiles almost shyly. “Thank you, $playername. I’m still working on it, so hopefully it’ll end up being a bit longer when I’m done.”
Even with Vynn’s musical performance, moving all their things ends up being quite the arduous task. It takes you multiple trips with the wheelbarrow to get everything onto the castle grounds and even longer to move everything up the stairs of the tower their room is located in. After a few hours of struggling, you are forced to realise your limits and ask a few servants for help.
To no one's surprise, it goes a lot quicker with more people. Soon enough, all of Vynn’s possessions have been dropped off in an empty bedroom on the third floor of the north-east tower. It is smaller than your new bedroom, but well-lit and equipped with a soft, purple rug that covers most of the hardwood floor and matching purple curtains. Once the servants take their leave, Vynn immediately shuts the door, pulls the curtains closed and falls backwards onto the bed still missing its sheets.
[[Sit down next to them on the bed.|Chapter4.7VA]]
[[Sit down on a chair next to the bed.|Chapter4.7VB]]“Rumours will be rumours, I guess. I agree with not taking them too seriously,” Vynn says and looks thoughtful for a moment. “Though now that I’ll be living in the castle, I guess I’ll be able to keep an ear out for these rumours for myself. I figure there’s a lot of insight that can be gleaned from living near so many important people, so that’s another plus.”
“I certainly won’t mind seeing you around more often. Which wing is your room located in?”
“It’s in the tower between the eastern and northern wing,” Vynn explains and begins pushing the now full wheelbarrow. The uneven cobblestone makes it difficult to traverse the streets, so you grab hold of the side of it to help with steering.
“My room’s in the southern wing. I can show you exactly where it is later, but let’s focus on moving all your stuff first. I get the feeling if we take a break, we’ll immediately get distracted,” you say fondly. You’ve never minded it when Vynn distracted you during training or anything else. How could you when their distractions were always so charming and fun?
Vynn perks up. “Should I sing you a song while we’re at it? I’ve been writing this one for a while now. It’ll ease the work, I promise.”
You hesitate for a moment but relent quickly when Vynn looks at you with their large dark eyes. “Sure, go right ahead.”
They clear their throat theatrically and begin to sing softly as you wrangle a wheelbarrow through the streets of Gaitanis towards the castle.
<i>By day, by night
You show your might
Oh great, oh bright Aurendil.
You light the way,
Won’t let me stay,
My fated guide Aurendil.
So why then can I never leave?
How often will I have to grieve?
Oh save me now,
I don’t care how.
Goodbye,
Goodbye, Aurendil.
You’re burning out.
You’re burning still.
How many days,
My Aurendil?</i>
Vynn keeps repeating the same four stanzas for a while before they grow tired of it. They continue humming the melody, melancholy and slow, for a while longer. It seems to be an ode to Aurendil, the brightest star in the sky, which is also the name of one of the old Gods, though you don’t know much about them.
“That was beautiful, Vynn,” you say in a moment of quiet. You refrain from asking any questions about their song, knowing that the meaning behind it is often only for them to know.
Vynn smiles almost shyly. “Thank you, $playername. I’m still working on it, so hopefully it’ll end up being a bit longer when I’m done.”
Even with Vynn’s musical performance, moving all their things ends up being quite the arduous task. It takes you multiple trips with the wheelbarrow to get everything onto the castle grounds and even longer to move everything up the stairs of the tower their room is located in. After a few hours of struggling, you are forced to realise your limits and ask a few servants for help.
To no one's surprise, it goes a lot quicker with more people. Soon enough, all of Vynn’s possessions have been dropped off in an empty bedroom on the third floor of the north-east tower. It is smaller than your new bedroom, but well-lit and equipped with a soft, purple rug that covers most of the hardwood floor and matching purple curtains. Once the servants take their leave, Vynn immediately shuts the door, pulls the curtains closed and falls backwards onto the bed still missing its sheets.
[[Sit down next to them on the bed.|Chapter4.7VA]]
[[Sit down on a chair next to the bed.|Chapter4.7VB]]Vynn looks at you with understanding. “I feel much the same way sometimes, especially when I lay awake at night and wonder about what will happen next. Everything is so uncertain, and I guess we have to come to terms with the fact that war in our lifetime is a definite possibility. Maybe we can both feel safer knowing the other isn’t far?”
A small smile finds its way onto your face. “I certainly won’t mind seeing you around more often. Which wing is your room located in?”
“It’s in the tower between the eastern and northern wing,” Vynn explains and begins pushing the now full wheelbarrow. The uneven cobblestone makes it difficult to traverse the streets, so you grab hold of the side of it to help with steering.
“My room’s in the southern wing. I can show you exactly where it is later, but let’s focus on moving all your stuff first. I get the feeling if we take a break, we’ll immediately get distracted,” you say fondly. You’ve never minded it when Vynn distracted you during training or anything else. How could you when their distractions were always so charming and fun?
Vynn perks up. “Should I sing you a song while we’re at it? I’ve been writing this one for a while now. It’ll ease the work, I promise.”
You hesitate for a moment but relent quickly when Vynn looks at you with their large dark eyes. “Sure, go right ahead.”
They clear their throat theatrically and begin to sing softly as you wrangle a wheelbarrow through the streets of Gaitanis towards the castle.
<i>By day, by night
You show your might
Oh great, oh bright Aurendil.
You light the way,
Won’t let me stay,
My fated guide Aurendil.
So why then can I never leave?
How often will I have to grieve?
Oh save me now,
I don’t care how.
Goodbye,
Goodbye, Aurendil.
You’re burning out.
You’re burning still.
How many days,
My Aurendil?</i>
Vynn keeps repeating the same four stanzas for a while before they grow tired of it. They continue humming the melody, melancholy and slow, for a while longer. It seems to be an ode to Aurendil, the brightest star in the sky, which is also the name of one of the old Gods, though you don’t know much about them.
“That was beautiful, Vynn,” you say in a moment of quiet. You refrain from asking any questions about their song, knowing that the meaning behind it is often only for them to know.
Vynn smiles almost shyly. “Thank you, $playername. I’m still working on it, so hopefully it’ll end up being a bit longer when I’m done.”
Even with Vynn’s musical performance, moving all their things ends up being quite the arduous task. It takes you multiple trips with the wheelbarrow to get everything onto the castle grounds and even longer to move everything up the stairs of the tower their room is located in. After a few hours of struggling, you are forced to realise your limits and ask a few servants for help.
To no one's surprise, it goes a lot quicker with more people. Soon enough, all of Vynn’s possessions have been dropped off in an empty bedroom on the third floor of the north-east tower. It is smaller than your new bedroom, but well-lit and equipped with a soft, purple rug that covers most of the hardwood floor and matching purple curtains. Once the servants take their leave, Vynn immediately shuts the door, pulls the curtains closed and falls backwards onto the bed still missing its sheets.
[[Sit down next to them on the bed.|Chapter4.7VA]]
[[Sit down on a chair next to the bed.|Chapter4.7VB]]You take his hand in yours with a firm grasp. Although you cannot feel his skin on account of your glove, you can still fell the steady strength behind the handshake and it calms your heart considerably. There's something to look forward to in the future.
Az'Lean doesn't comment on the fact that you are wearing gloves and you are more than thankful for it. Although it isn't uncommon for a knight to be wearing gloves or gauntlets while on duty, today is your day off and it's warm outside, so someone might wonder about it.
"How about we let Kaz fly for a bit? I think she's sick of listening to us talk," Az'Lean suggests. Kaz immediately clicks her beak in response.
You nod in agreement. "I wouldn't mind seeing her in action."
"You won't be disappointed." Az'Lean proceeds to detach the jesse from Kaz's anklet. "Hold this, would you?"
You take the strip of leather from him, allowing him to pet Kaz one more time. "You know the drill, Kaz. Don't pretend like you don't understand me when I call you back, we both know it's not true."
Kaz chirps a few times in rapid succession, much akin to a laugh, before slowly spreading her wings. The size of her wing span takes you a little of guard and you take a cautious step backwards as to not get in her way.
"Off you go," Az'Lean says as he throws the arm Kaz is perched on upwards. She immediately launches into the air, wings flapping with incredible strength as she climbs ever higher into the sky. It doesn't take long until she is soaring at double the height of the castle walls.
The two of you watch as she gracefully circles above you. It doesn't take long before Kaz lets out a piercing screech before descending into a nosedive. With truly incredible speed she reaches the ground nearby - apparently now with sucessfully caught prey. You and Az'Lean head across the field towards her.
As soon as you come closer, you notice the blood staining Kaz's beak and the lifeless body of a mouse at her talons. Az'Lean immediatly rushes over, a look of pride on his face.
"Great job, Kaz," he praises her before gesturing at the carcass. "You go right head."
Kaz lets out another screech before proceeding to tear the mouse apart. Although it is a vicious sight, Az'Lean seems overjoyed with her catch.
You hang back a bit, not eager to get mouse guts flung in your direction by accident. "She caught that in no time," you say.
Az'Lean nods enthusiastically. "Right? You know what's even harder to catch than a mouse though? Damn pixies. Falcons don't usually hunt them and it's not like there are any around here to practice on, but I'm hoping if any pixies ever make it into the castle, Kaz and the other birds will at least pose a threat to them."
<i>A small, winged person, viciously torn apart.</i>
"So they too are a defense against the fae?"
"Naturally. While this is a hobby of mine, legitimately, I can't help but think of ways this could be useful." Az'Lean looks a bit sheepish. "Occupational hazard of being the prince, I guess."
"Makes sense. I'm also primed to always keep an eye out for threats," you say as you let your gaze wander across the field. Admittedly, the biggest threat right now would be Kaz, but she seems entirely too well behaved - even if she is currently devouring the remains of a mouse.
You and Az'Lean spend some more time like this, watching Kaz fly around above you before occasionally nose-diving to the ground. Her prey escapes her a few times, but she seems to be enjoying herself regardless if the chirps are anything to go by.
Eventually, Az'Lean calls her back to him with an ear-drum shattering whistle. He goes back to petting her before cleaning up and returning her to her mew. You hand him back the jesse and he makes sure Kaz is secured before leaving.
With a small, yet satisfied smile, Az'Lean turns towards you. “This has been good, $playername. I really think so. Let’s hope we’ll both be more than refreshed going back to our usual duties tomorrow.”
You can't help but return his smile. “Yes, I hope so too. Do you want to head back to our rooms?”
Az’Lean nods and the two of you make your way back to the castle.
[[Subconsciously, you make the decision to walk next to him instead of one step behind him.|Chapter4.8A]]You swiftly remove your glove without drawing too much attention to it and take his hand in yours with a firm grip. Az'Lean's hand is rough and surprisingly cold but you can still fell the steady strength behind the handshake and it calms your heart considerably. There's something to look forward to in the future.
Az'Lean doesn't comment on the fact that you took off your glove for a handshake. It might be seen as strange to explicitly want to feel another's hand but you don't care. Always having to wear gloves is exhausting and not being able to feel the things you are touching often leaves you feeling like you're missing something.
"How about we let Kaz fly for a bit? I think she's sick of listening to us talk," Az'Lean suggests. Kaz immediately clicks her beak in response.
You nod in agreement. "I wouldn't mind seeing her in action."
"You won't be disappointed." Az'Lean proceeds to detach the jesse from Kaz's anklet. "Hold this, would you?"
You take the strip of leather from him, allowing him to pet Kaz one more time. "You know the drill, Kaz. Don't pretend like you don't understand me when I call you back, we both know it's not true."
Kaz chirps a few times in rapid succession, much akin to a laugh, before slowly spreading her wings. The size of her wing span takes you a little of guard and you take a cautious step backwards as to not get in her way.
"Off you go," Az'Lean says as he throws the arm Kaz is perched on upwards. She immediately launches into the air, wings flapping with incredible strength as she climbs ever higher into the sky. It doesn't take long until she is soaring at double the height of the castle walls.
The two of you watch as she gracefully circles above you. It doesn't take long before Kaz lets out a piercing screech before descending into a nosedive. With truly incredible speed she reaches the ground nearby - apparently now with sucessfully caught prey. You and Az'Lean head across the field towards her.
As soon as you come closer, you notice the blood staining Kaz's beak and the lifeless body of a mouse at her talons. Az'Lean immediatly rushes over, a look of pride on his face.
"Great job, Kaz," he praises her before gesturing at the carcass. "You go right head."
Kaz lets out another screech before proceeding to tear the mouse apart. Although it is a vicious sight, Az'Lean seems overjoyed with her catch.
You hang back a bit, not eager to get mouse guts flung in your direction by accident. "She caught that in no time," you say.
Az'Lean nods enthusiastically. "Right? You know what's even harder to catch than a mouse though? Damn pixies. Falcons don't usually hunt them and it's not like there are any around here to practice on, but I'm hoping if any pixies ever make it into the castle, Kaz and the other birds will at least pose a threat to them."
<i>A small, winged person, viciously torn apart.</i>
"So they too are a defense against the fae?"
"Naturally. While this is a hobby of mine, legitimately, I can't help but think of ways this could be useful." Az'Lean looks a bit sheepish. "Occupational hazard of being the prince, I guess."
"Makes sense. I'm also primed to always keep an eye out for threats," you say as you let your gaze wander across the field. Admittedly, the biggest threat right now would be Kaz, but she seems entirely too well behaved - even if she is currently devouring the remains of a mouse.
You and Az'Lean spend some more time like this, watching Kaz fly around above you before occasionally nose-diving to the ground. Her prey escapes her a few times, but she seems to be enjoying herself regardless if the chirps are anything to go by.
Eventually, Az'Lean calls her back to him with an ear-drum shattering whistle. He goes back to petting her before cleaning up and returning her to her mew. You hand him back the jesse and he makes sure Kaz is secured before leaving.
With a small, yet satisfied smile, Az'Lean turns towards you. “This has been good, $playername. I really think so. Let’s hope we’ll both be more than refreshed going back to our usual duties tomorrow.”
You can't help but return his smile. “Yes, I hope so too. Do you want to head back to our rooms?”
Az’Lean nods and the two of you make your way back to the castle.
[[Subconsciously, you make the decision to walk next to him instead of one step behind him.|Chapter4.8A]]Lester eyes you closely. "I suppose you wouldn't be able to stand knighthood if it weren't so."
"That much is true. I don't think a boring, simple life would be for me," you admit.
The two of you fall into silence, both somewhat at a loss.
"I think we bothered you enough for now, Lana," Lester says eventually.
"I hope those guys don't come back to bother you," you add.
Lana looks more resigned than worried. "They might, but then again, I'm used to rowdy customers. I've got means to defend myself, don't you worry."
"I don't doubt that," Lester says with a grin. "Let's get out of here, $playername."
You head back out into the market place, now directionless. You join the current of people walking around, letting yourselves be steered by their flow.
At some point, you pass a few carts selling more rare or expensive wares. Colourful silken scarves catch your eye, presenting themselves as optimal gifts for Vynn. There are also all manner of magical objects that you're certain Thianne would enjoy, and special whetstones and sword oil that Az'Lean would be happy to receive.
Your gaze wanders to Lester and you can't help but wonder what sort of presents he would enjoy. It turns out that you don't have to wonder long as you find him staring intently at a deck of colourfully painted tarot cards.
"Do you want them?"
He jolts as if he had completely forgotten your existence. "What?"
You gesture at the cart. "Do you want to buy the tarot cards? They look pretty nice."
"Not really. I mean, they are nice and I've always wanted to try fortune telling myself, but I don't want to buy them." Lester keeps walking with increased speed, not that it's difficult to keep up with him.
You make a mental note of this. Whether he thinks they're too expensive or doesn't want to interact with another human merchant right now, you're pretty sure he did eye that deck of cards rather longingly. Maybe you'll have an opportunity to come back for them or find a different deck somewhere else - provided you ever feel the need to give Lester a gift.
It's not that you're even that close, but a part of you wonders what his reaction would be. A part of you just wants to see him smile after what happended earlier.
Lester must have noticed the thoughtful look in your eyes, for he slows down and comes to a halt at the edge of the market.
"This has been a lot of fun, all things considered," he says with a grin. "You're actually passable company - who would've thought!"
You take his teasing in stride and offer him a grin of your own. "Glad to hear it. Then maybe we could do this more often. Gods know I need to get out of the castle every now and then."
"True, we wouldn't want you to get cabin fever. If you really want to, you can invite me again. No promises that I'll accept, though," Lester says casually.
"Fair enough."
The two of you stand around chatting a little while longer, not wanting to part ways quite yet. You soon notice Lester grow restless, however, and not long after he tells you to look at a certain stall behind you. Even as you turn around you know he's going to disappear on you.
When you look back at where he stood just seconds ago, there's nothing left but a puff of smoke spelling out the word "BYE", hovering in the air before slowly dissipating.
[["What an interesting guy," you mumble to yourself as you make your way back to the castle.|Chapter4.8L]]Lester eyes you curiously. "A wise decision. So is that what you're doing? Getting close to me?"
You shrug. "Why else would I spend time with you other than to grow closer? And it's not just because you're dangerous either."
"You're a strange one, Champ, but I appreciate it."
The two of you fall into silence, both somewhat at a loss.
"I think we bothered you enough for now, Lana," Lester says eventually.
"I hope those guys don't come back to bother you," you add.
Lana looks more resigned than worried. "They might, but then again, I'm used to rowdy customers. I've got means to defend myself, don't you worry."
"I don't doubt that," Lester says with a grin. "Let's get out of here, $playername."
You head back out into the market place, now directionless. You join the current of people walking around, letting yourselves be steered by their flow.
At some point, you pass a few carts selling more rare or expensive wares. Colourful silken scarves catch your eye, presenting themselves as optimal gifts for Vynn. There are also all manner of magical objects that you're certain Thianne would enjoy, and special whetstones and sword oil that Az'Lean would be happy to receive.
Your gaze wanders to Lester and you can't help but wonder what sort of presents he would enjoy. It turns out that you don't have to wonder long as you find him staring intently at a deck of colourfully painted tarot cards.
"Do you want them?"
He jolts as if he had completely forgotten your existence. "What?"
You gesture at the cart. "Do you want to buy the tarot cards? They look pretty nice."
"Not really. I mean, they are nice and I've always wanted to try fortune telling myself, but I don't want to buy them." Lester keeps walking with increased speed, not that it's difficult to keep up with him.
You make a mental note of this. Whether he thinks they're too expensive or doesn't want to interact with another human merchant right now, you're pretty sure he did eye that deck of cards rather longingly. Maybe you'll have an opportunity to come back for them or find a different deck somewhere else - provided you ever feel the need to give Lester a gift.
It's not that you're even that close, but a part of you wonders what his reaction would be. A part of you just wants to see him smile after what happended earlier.
Lester must have noticed the thoughtful look in your eyes, for he slows down and comes to a halt at the edge of the market.
"This has been a lot of fun, all things considered," he says with a grin. "You're actually passable company - who would've thought!"
You take his teasing in stride and offer him a grin of your own. "Glad to hear it. Then maybe we could do this more often. Gods know I need to get out of the castle every now and then."
"True, we wouldn't want you to get cabin fever. If you really want to, you can invite me again. No promises that I'll accept, though," Lester says casually.
"Fair enough."
The two of you stand around chatting a little while longer, not wanting to part ways quite yet. You soon notice Lester grow restless, however, and not long after he tells you to look at a certain stall behind you. Even as you turn around you know he's going to disappear on you.
When you look back at where he stood just seconds ago, there's nothing left but a puff of smoke spelling out the word "BYE", hovering in the air before slowly dissipating.
[["What an interesting guy," you mumble to yourself as you make your way back to the castle.|Chapter4.8L]]Lester laughs loudly. "I honestly don't doubt that. I'd hate to get on your bad side, Champ, but I think you like me."
"Oh yeah?" you challenge him.
He smirks. "You were the one to come looking for me today, remember?"
"I guess I can't deny that," you admit.
The two of you fall into silence, both somewhat at a loss.
"I think we bothered you enough for now, Lana," Lester says eventually.
"I hope those guys don't come back to bother you," you add.
Lana looks more resigned than worried. "They might, but then again, I'm used to rowdy customers. I've got means to defend myself, don't you worry."
"I don't doubt that," Lester says with a grin. "Let's get out of here, $playername."
You head back out into the market place, now directionless. You join the current of people walking around, letting yourselves be steered by their flow.
At some point, you pass a few carts selling more rare or expensive wares. Colourful silken scarves catch your eye, presenting themselves as optimal gifts for Vynn. There are also all manner of magical objects that you're certain Thianne would enjoy, and special whetstones and sword oil that Az'Lean would be happy to receive.
Your gaze wanders to Lester and you can't help but wonder what sort of presents he would enjoy. It turns out that you don't have to wonder long as you find him staring intently at a deck of colourfully painted tarot cards.
"Do you want them?"
He jolts as if he had completely forgotten your existence. "What?"
You gesture at the cart. "Do you want to buy the tarot cards? They look pretty nice."
"Not really. I mean, they are nice and I've always wanted to try fortune telling myself, but I don't want to buy them." Lester keeps walking with increased speed, not that it's difficult to keep up with him.
You make a mental note of this. Whether he thinks they're too expensive or doesn't want to interact with another human merchant right now, you're pretty sure he did eye that deck of cards rather longingly. Maybe you'll have an opportunity to come back for them or find a different deck somewhere else - provided you ever feel the need to give Lester a gift.
It's not that you're even that close, but a part of you wonders what his reaction would be. A part of you just wants to see him smile after what happended earlier.
Lester must have noticed the thoughtful look in your eyes, for he slows down and comes to a halt at the edge of the market.
"This has been a lot of fun, all things considered," he says with a grin. "You're actually passable company - who would've thought!"
You take his teasing in stride and offer him a grin of your own. "Glad to hear it. Then maybe we could do this more often. Gods know I need to get out of the castle every now and then."
"True, we wouldn't want you to get cabin fever. If you really want to, you can invite me again. No promises that I'll accept, though," Lester says casually.
"Fair enough."
The two of you stand around chatting a little while longer, not wanting to part ways quite yet. You soon notice Lester grow restless, however, and not long after he tells you to look at a certain stall behind you. Even as you turn around you know he's going to disappear on you.
When you look back at where he stood just seconds ago, there's nothing left but a puff of smoke spelling out the word "BYE", hovering in the air before slowly dissipating.
[["What an interesting guy," you mumble to yourself as you make your way back to the castle.|Chapter4.8L]]Thianne laughs. “Gods, yes. It’s like I’ve got this itch in my brain that only the acquisition of more knowledge can scratch. It feels like a curse at times - like I’ll go insane if I stop.”
You nod along as you take another sip of your tea. “I’ve felt that way about training before. Just knowing that there are still so many ways in which I could be stronger is compelling enough to keep going. And knowledge is its own kind of strength, especially when it comes to magic.”
“Nothing can hold a candle to magic in any capacity. I don’t get why we even bother with knights that can’t do any magic at all. How are they supposed to combat the fae effectively?” Thianne rolls her eyes. “Enchanted gear, I guess, but then they’re just reliant on a mage’s support.”
“I guess it’s just not possible to find enough young people who are adept at magic that also want to be knights. I didn’t realise I could even do any magic until I was already a squire,” you say with a shrug as you feel yourself getting pulled into the debate. “Though you could say that about any profession. Blacksmiths, apothecaries, bards - a lot of people could only benefit from being able to do magic.”
Thianne takes a long sip as she seems to contemplate your words. “Valid points,” she says with something akin to admiration. “And now that I think about it, the same thing is true about a lot of skills. Literacy, for example. It’s education in general that should be more valued, but not everyone seems to have that same itch for learnin’ that I do. Or the means to pursue it.”
“It’s a sad thing, really. What would you do if you hadn’t been able to be a sorceress here in the castle, but still had your thirst for knowledge?”
A smile lights up Thianne’s face. “Hittin’ me with the hard questions, huh? I like it. Let’s see… I’d be a cartographer.”
You find that mildly surprising - it’s a dangerous and thankless job to be sure. “Really? You’d be willing to travel all over the kingdom?”
“Sure. It’s an important task, and there’s much knowledge that cannot be learned from books. I always try to remember that.”
As the two of you continue to talk, it doesn’t take long for your cups to run empty. Thianne doesn’t offer you a refill and you figure it’s a sign that your time together is coming to an end. Even though she is smiling, you can tell that she’s becoming a bit restless and you don’t fault her for it.
“This has been a joy, Thianne, but I suppose I should get going soon,” you say as you put down your cup.
Something like relief shines briefly in her amber eyes but you don’t take it personally.
“Yes,” she says and sets down her own cup as well. “I guess I’d call it enjoyable.”
“I for one feel completely relaxed now,” you say with a smile as you slowly get up.
Thianne does the same, busying herself with the dishes and markedly avoiding direct eye-contact with you. “We really should do it again some time. And I guess I haven’t said thank you yet.”
“For…?”
“Helpin’ me harvest, earlier. Thanks for that, $playername. You’re very… thoughtful I guess you’d call it.”
You can’t help but smile. “It was a good way to spend my time, so no need to thank me.”
She scoffs. “Stop bein’ slick, it’s annoying.”
“You think I’m slick?” You can feel your chest bubble with both laughter and warmth.
“Not with that goofy grin you aren’t,” she says with a smirk. “Now get outta here.”
[[You keep stifling laughter all the way to the entrance.|Chapter4.8T]]Thianne laughs. “Why would anyone pick anything else? Magic is incredibly powerful, we know next to nothing about it, and it continuously defies all of our expectations. Yes, it’s risky, yes some terrible things have been brought about by magic. But when you see what it can do, isn’t it just too tempting?”
You nod along as you take another sip of your tea. “I can understand that. A lot of people can’t fathom why someone would want to be a knight but the thought of having to fight or being in danger never bothered me. There’s just something about protecting others that’s infinitely more appealing than any other kind of work.”
“We all have our dispositions. I’ve been wonderin' why magic use isn’t more prevalent among knights if danger isn’t an issue and being powerful is so imperative.” Thianne scoffs. “Like how does a knight who can’t do magic effectively combat the fae?”
“I guess it’s just not possible to find enough young people who are adept at magic that also want to be knights. I didn’t realise I could even do any magic until I was already a squire,” you say with a shrug as you feel yourself getting pulled into the debate. “Though you could say that about any profession. Blacksmiths, apothecaries, bards - a lot of people could only benefit from being able to do magic.”
Thianne takes a long sip as she seems to contemplate your words. “Valid points,” she says with something akin to admiration. “And now that I think about it, the same thing is true about a lot of skills. Literacy, for example. It’s education in general that should be more valued, but not everyone seems to have that same itch for learnin’ that I do. Or the means to pursue it.”
“It’s a sad thing, really. What would you be doing right now if you didn’t have an affinity for magic at all?”
An amused smile lights up Thianne’s face. “Hittin’ me with the hard questions, huh? I like it. Let’s see… I’d be a cartographer.”
You find that mildly surprising - it’s a hard and thankless job to be sure. “Really? You’d be willing to travel all over the kingdom?”
“Sure. It’s an important task, and there’s much knowledge that cannot be learned from books. I always try to remember that.”
As the two of you continue to talk, it doesn’t take long for your cups to run empty. Thianne doesn’t offer you a refill and you figure it’s a sign that your time together is coming to an end. Even though she is smiling, you can tell that she’s becoming a bit restless and you don’t fault her for it.
“This has been a joy, Thianne, but I suppose I should get going soon,” you say as you put down your cup.
Something like relief shines briefly in her amber eyes but you don’t take it personally.
“Yes,” she says and sets down her own cup as well. “I guess I’d call it enjoyable.”
“I for one feel completely relaxed now,” you say with a smile as you slowly get up.
Thianne does the same, busying herself with the dishes and markedly avoiding direct eye-contact with you. “We really should do it again some time. And I guess I haven’t said thank you yet.”
“For…?”
“Helpin’ me harvest, earlier. Thanks for that, $playername. You’re very… thoughtful I guess you’d call it.”
You can’t help but smile. “It was a good way to spend my time, so no need to thank me.”
She scoffs. “Stop bein’ slick, it’s annoying.”
“You think I’m slick?” You can feel your chest bubble with both laughter and warmth.
“Not with that goofy grin you aren’t,” she says with a smirk. “Now get outta here.”
[[You keep stifling laughter all the way to the entrance.|Chapter4.8T]]You sit down next to Vynn on the bed. Instead of moving away from you, they shuffle a little closer like a cat seeking warmth. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while before you notice Vynn’s expression darkening. They catch you glancing down at them and drape one arm across their face in a motion that is supposed to look languid but comes across as awkward more than anything.
“I met one of the new squires yesterday,” Vynn suddenly says, their voice muffled by their arm. “She was just a tiny thing. I can’t believe we ever used to be that small and weak. Sometimes I don’t understand how time works. It always moves so fast when I don’t want it to.”
You hum in agreement. “And when you’re bored or miserable, it seems to drag on forever.”
“Exactly. It doesn’t make sense. Surely it is merely a perception based… something or other.” They wave their hand around lazily.
“Phenomenon?” you suggest.
“A perception based phenomenon, yes. So that means the passing of time as we feel it only happens in our head. It feels subjective, based on our emotions. Why then does our mind choose to punish us by hastening away our happiness and prolonging our pain?”
You are starting to feel like you can tell where this train of thought is going. “You think there’s a reason for it?”
Vynn grunts. “There must be. I just can’t think of one that isn’t malicious.”
“Maybe we’re not supposed to get complacent,” you say, thoughtfully stapling your hands together. You’ve always believed that there was something to be gained from strife and arduous, hard work.
“I never understood that. Complacency is one of the most ecstatic feelings there are. Just simply doing nothing, remaining exactly as you are. It’s so comfortable, and safe.”
“You say that, but you’re a hard worker.”
“Gods, but I wish I wasn’t. I wish I could just be rid of all the things that make fun times go by faster, whatever they may be. But I’m weighed down by rubbish like responsibility and care for others.” Vynn makes a theatrical gagging noise and you can tell they are at least somewhat joking.
“Those qualities are usually celebrated, Vynn. They mean you’re a good person,” you say earnestly. “If it weren’t difficult at times, everyone would be good. So don’t tell me you want to get rid of your conscience.”
“You’re right, you’re right. You are a good two-thirds of both my conscience and my impulse control, so of course I wouldn’t want to get rid of you. But maybe there can be a day, every two moons, where I just stop caring and be as complacent as I want to be.” Vynn sounds almost wistful as they say it.
“But what if you’re not able to stop after a day? What if it’s like a too long nap that ruins your entire day?”
“Stop making sense, $playername, and let me mope!”
You smile wryly. “Sorry, sorry. I can guess what has you moping. Do you want to talk about it? In a less roundabout way, I mean?”
Vynn slowly removes the arm from their face and looks at you, their eyes looking impossibly soft and warm, like molten chocolate. You almost think they might look a little misty-eyed, though it might be from the dust of the sheetless bed.
“What is there to talk about? I’m a knight now, I don’t want to be a knight, end of story. I’m just a person who hates their job - a lot of people do. There’s nothing to be done, it could be worse and I should get over it. I might die in a fight but truthfully, I have a much higher chance of survival than most other knights. If I had a different profession, I might die young anyway. If war truly does break out, it won’t just be us knights in danger. So I know I should just focus on the present and live my life, it’s just… I don’t know.” Vynn’s voice breaks by the end of it, and your heart with it.
Something squeezes deep inside your chest and you need to catch your breath before you can respond.
“It’s valid to feel that way and I know that you know that comparing your life to the lives of others will only make you more miserable. Change is frightening, the future feels so uncertain and unstable, and we have as little time to ourselves as we’ve ever had before.” The words simply tumble out of your mouth. “There’s so many expectations and choices and it’s strangling. It feels like there’s no room to breathe at all and how can you enjoy the present when so much is looming on the horizon? I feel- I feel similarly right now. You’re not alone.”
Vynn stares at you, mystified. Slowly their expression lightens up a little, and they let out a long, raw sounding sigh. “You’re going through something too, I knew it. Maybe it’s the times. You’re right though, we’re not alone. Never that, right? Never alone.”
They reach out their hand to you. You quickly slip off your glove before taking it in yours, relishing in the warmth and the softness of their skin.
You squeeze their hand. “Never. I promise, Vynn.”
Vynn squeezes back. “I promise too, $playername. No matter what happens, we’re a team.”
[[“Right. We'll get through this, Vynn.”|Chapter4.8V]]You pull over a chair and sit down next to the bed. Vynn spreads out on the bed a little more, their long limbs needing all the space they can get. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while before you notice Vynn’s expression darkening. They catch you glancing over at them and drape one arm across their face in a motion that is supposed to look languid but comes across as awkward more than anything.
“I met one of the new squires yesterday,” Vynn suddenly says, their voice muffled by their arm. “She was just a tiny thing. I can’t believe we ever used to be that small and weak. Sometimes I don’t understand how time works. It always moves so fast when I don’t want it to.”
You hum in agreement. “And when you’re bored or miserable, it seems to drag on forever.”
“Exactly. It doesn’t make sense. Surely it is merely a perception based… something or other.” They wave their hand around lazily.
“Phenomenon?” you suggest.
“A perception based phenomenon, yes. So that means the passing of time as we feel it only happens in our head. It feels subjective, based on our emotions. Why then does our mind choose to punish us by hastening away our happiness and prolonging our pain?”
You are starting to feel like you can tell where this train of thought is going. “You think there’s a reason for it?”
Vynn grunts. “There must be. I just can’t think of one that isn’t malicious.”
“Maybe we’re not supposed to get complacent,” you say, thoughtfully stapling your hands together. You’ve always believed that there was something to be gained from strife and arduous, hard work.
“I never understood that. Complacency is one of the most ecstatic feelings there are. Just simply doing nothing, remaining exactly as you are. It’s so comfortable, and safe.”
“You say that, but you’re a hard worker.”
“Gods, but I wish I wasn’t. I wish I could just be rid of all the things that make fun times go by faster, whatever they may be. But I’m weighed down by rubbish like responsibility and care for others.” Vynn makes a theatrical gagging noise and you can tell they are at least somewhat joking.
“Those qualities are usually celebrated, Vynn. They mean you’re a good person,” you say earnestly. “If it weren’t difficult at times, everyone would be good. So don’t tell me you want to get rid of your conscience.”
“You’re right, you’re right. You are a good two-thirds of both my conscience and my impulse control, so of course I wouldn’t want to get rid of you. But maybe there can be a day, every two moons, where I just stop caring and be as complacent as I want to be.” Vynn sounds almost wistful as they say it.
“But what if you’re not able to stop after a day? What if it’s like a too long nap that ruins your entire day?”
“Stop making sense, $playername, and let me mope!”
You smile wryly. “Sorry, sorry. I can guess what has you moping. Do you want to talk about it? In a less roundabout way, I mean?”
Vynn slowly removes the arm from their face and looks at you, their eyes looking impossibly soft and warm, like molten chocolate. You almost think they might look a little misty-eyed, though it might be from the dust of the sheetless bed.
“What is there to talk about? I’m a knight now, I don’t want to be a knight, end of story. I’m just a person who hates their job - a lot of people do. There’s nothing to be done, it could be worse and I should get over it. I might die in a fight but truthfully, I have a much higher chance of survival than most other knights. If I had a different profession, I might die young anyway. If war truly does break out, it won’t just be us knights in danger. So I know I should just focus on the present and live my life, it’s just… I don’t know.” Vynn’s voice breaks by the end of it, and your heart with it.
Something squeezes deep inside your chest and you need to catch your breath before you can respond.
“It’s valid to feel that way and I know that you know that comparing your life to the lives of others will only make you more miserable. Change is frightening, the future feels so uncertain and unstable, and we have as little time to ourselves as we’ve ever had before.” The words simply tumble out of your mouth. “There’s so many expectations and choices and it’s strangling. It feels like there’s no room to breathe at all and how can you enjoy the present when so much is looming on the horizon? I feel- I feel similarly right now. You’re not alone.”
Vynn stares at you, mystified. Slowly their expression lightens up a little, and they let out a long, raw sounding sigh. “You’re going through something too, I knew it. Maybe it’s the times. You’re right though, we’re not alone. Never that, right? Never alone.”
They reach out their hand to you. You quickly slip off your glove before taking it in yours, relishing in the warmth and the softness of their skin.
You squeeze their hand. “Never. I promise, Vynn.”
Vynn squeezes back. “I promise too, $playername. No matter what happens, we’re a team.”
[[“Right. We'll get through this, Vynn.”|Chapter4.8V]]<<set $Az to $Az + 10>>\
<<set $instability to $instability - 1>>\
The two of you part ways once you reach the door to your room. It is with a smile on your face that you watch Az'Lean leave as you close the door behind you, knowing that you will see him again tomorrow and every day after that for a long, long time. <i>Provided you don't ruin everything.</i>
Spending time together like this - relaxed, casual, completely removed from work and duties - has done wonders for the tempest that has been raging within your chest these past few days. The fact that you are a changeling hasn't been forgotten, but after a day like this, it feels much less catastrophic.
You get the feeling that Az'Lean does genuinely enjoy your company on some level, and you can't help but let that spark some hope within you. There still might be a chance that you could one day tell him about your secret and he wouldn't react negatively.
You'd probably have to wait a bit more before telling him. He needs to be sure that you are a good person and that you can be trusted despite being a changeling. However, if you wait too long to tell him about it, he might feel like you were intentionally trying to get close to him just so he would be lenient with you.
If you want to confide in Az'Lean, you'll have to make sure it's at the right time. The worst case scenario is still being convicted as a traitor and an enemy spy - and you get the feeling Az'Lean's hatred for the fae that killed his mother runs deep.
That's something else you should consider - is vengeful wrath the path Az'Lean should be going down if you want him to be fine with having a changeling as Champion? But if you try to dissuade him, if you try to steer him towards taking peaceful actions - would that be manipulation?
Either way, you simply enjoyed spending time with him today and no one can fault you for that. Whatever the future may bring, no one can take the memories you made together away from you.
[[For now though, it's good that you have some time for yourself.|Chapter4.9]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
As much as spending time with Lester has been fun, you don't feel any more relaxed or even-tempered. In fact, today has given you even more to think about. The treatment of half-fae, for one thing, as well as whatever is going on with someone routinely breaking into Lester's room.
You spend quite some time ruminating on that, as well as imagining what Lester's so-called prank-defense could possibly entail. In the end, you don't really come to any conclusions other than the one's you've already had before: Lester is incredibly interesting, but you still aren't sure what his deal is. Az'Lean doesn't trust him - but is that just prejudice against half-fae talking or is there good reason for it? You aren't sure yet.
Despite all that, you feel that Lester is somewhat of a kindred spirit. He's half-fae but presumably grew up amongst humans - he might somewhat understand what you're going through as a changeling. The question whether you could trust him with your secret is a different one entirely. Who knows where his loyalties lie.
Still, you feel like he wouldn't be the worst person to confide in should you wish to do so. Once you've gotten to know him a bit better, at any rate.
Although these thoughts do preoccupy you a bit, you decide wasting more time on them isn’t at all productive.
[[After all, you have an upcoming meeting to prepare for.|Chapter4.9]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 10>>\
<<set $instability to $instability - 2>>\
The two of you shake hands as you depart. Thianne’s grip is firm and you feel a lot of fortitude and reliability from her. Now that you’ve gotten to know her a little better, you feel like Thianne is the sort of person that is set in her principles and isn’t interested in changing anything about herself. What you see is what you get, and there is something to be admired in that.
Even though not much has changed in your relationship with her today, you get the distinct feeling that she has sort of accepted your existence in her life. You feel like she won’t say no to a future invitation.
You decidedly don’t overstay your welcome and part ways with Thianne, deciding to spend the rest of the day focusing on yourself and organising your thoughts. The tea has helped relax you immensely, but the meeting with Lady Maeve continues to loom above you.
As you retreat back to your room, you can’t help but feel a certain light, warm feeling in your chest. Spending the day with Thianne had been the correct choice. Her presence has been grounding, and spending time with her made you feel reassured in your own identity. This wasn’t you playing a part, you’d simply been yourself and it had been fine. You feel like you’d been lost at sea and finally have solid ground to stand on once more.
The thought of opening up and telling someone about your unfortunate secret does occur to you. Thianne for instance is a remarkably intelligent and rational person, and you’re certain that she knows quite a bit about changelings. You assume she wouldn’t blame you for what you are and the circumstances you’ve found yourself in, maybe she would even offer some reassurance. But you also think that her loyalties lie completely with the crown and that she wouldn’t hesitate to report you. Just because she’d understand your situation doesn’t mean she would value you more than the potential safety of the kingdom.
Fae aren’t allowed to live in Gaiapeia, so at the very least she’d tell you to leave before anyone else finds out. No, you probably shouldn’t tell Thianne about it anytime soon - if ever.
Although these thoughts do weigh you down a bit, you decide wasting more time ruminating on them isn’t at all productive.
[[After all, you have an upcoming meeting to prepare for.|Chapter4.9]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
<<set $instability to $instability - 1>>\
The two of you stay like that for a while before Vynn slowly withdraws their hand. “May this sentimental fool suggest getting something to eat?”
The truth is you have been hungry for a while but ignored it in favour of the moment. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Want me to show you the way to the kitchens? I did promise Rhona not to bother her there, though.”
“We could go out into the city. It’s your day off so we have all day and night, right?”
“Actually, I want to make sure I’m back in the castle by sundown. Busy day tomorrow.” You figure it’s not a lie to not mention your planned meeting with Lady Maeve.
“Then how about this: you show me the way to the kitchen, and then I’ll go in and get the food. That way, it’s technically not <i>you</i> bothering her. You’d barely be an accomplice.” Vynn shoots you a grin as they begin sitting up.
You return it with one of your own. “I suppose I can get behind that. Alright, let’s go.”
You spend the rest of your day with Vynn, getting food, loitering around outside of the kitchens and aimlessly wandering through the castle. It feels like a much needed piece of normality and comfort, and you allow it to fill your chest with a familiar warmth. You truly do believe in your friendship with Vynn and feel like they’d accept you in a heartbeat if you told them you were a changeling.
That doesn’t mean you should do anything rash, but it’s something to consider. If you can’t even trust Vynn with your new secret, there aren’t that many other options. Vynn is your best friend, you know they care about you, and they have no personal grudge against the fae. Lying to them is difficult and they might start catching on that something is up regardless of you telling them. Opening up to them could be a source of support for you, but it might also burden them with having to keep your secret and lie for you.
There’s still time to consider all of your options and choose a course of action, but maybe you should already start thinking about it.
Once the sun starts to approach the horizon, you and Vynn say your goodbyes - casually like you’ve said them a thousand times before, but also with a little bit more weight than usual. Today has made you feel a bit more relaxed and optimistic - no matter what happens, you’re not alone. You sincerely hope you’ll get to spend some more time with Vynn soon.
[[For today though, you have other plans.|Chapter4.9]]You spend the rest of the day mentally preparing yourself for your meeting with Lady Maeve. No matter how you look at it, you can't pass up this opportunity to gather more information. There's much to learn about the fae and about changelings, and you feel like not doing everything in your power to do so would be setting yourself up for disaster. You did decide that willful ignorance just isn't sustainable.
Still, this is all very risky and you don't entirely feel good about it. You try framing it as simply an investigation, or an interrogation, but the fact is that you're meeting with someone that shouldn't be here. Your heart starts racing at the thought of everything that could go wong. This is why you need to steel yourself. You'll be sneaking off into the castle gardens in the middle of the night, after all - an act like that requires some thought.
You know there'll be guards near the entrance, but not in the gardens themselves. There might be someone else taking a midnight stroll, but you figure Lady Maeve is smart enough the wait until everything's clear before showing herself. If anyone asks what you're doing out so late, you'll simply say you need some fresh air. Worst case scenario someone will assume you're secretly meeting with a lover.
Should there really be too many people out and about or should the guards linger too close to the garden, Lady Maeve might not show at all. You decide you'll not wait longer than an hour and consider the meeting failed after that.
With everything planned out, you wait for night to fall. You're putting on your boots and getting ready when you start to hesitate. Should you be going to this meeting armed? Lady Maeve might be dangerous, things could turn sour, this could all still be a trap. On the other hand, she might react negatively to you carrying a weapon and she might refuse telling you anything - the whole reason you're even doing this.
Bringing a weapon might be safer, but it could also compromise your attempt to gather more information about the fae, about changelings, and about who and what you are.
[[No matter how you look at it, she's an enemy. Be hostile and bring multiple weapons.|Chapter4.10A]]
[[She's dangerous, even if she isn't malicious. Be cautious and bring a concealed dagger at least.|Chapter4.10B]]
[[You look forward to meeting up with her. Be amicable and go unarmed.|Chapter4.10C]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
A giddy smile lights up Maeve's face and she excitedly bounces her legs up and down, still sitting cross-legged. "What a lovely thing to say, $playername. I would very much enjoy spending more time with you!"
It is an endearing sight, you can't deny that. "Good! I took a nap earlier so I would have enough energy."
Maeve presses a hand to her face to hide her growing smile behind it, as well as the faintest hint of a blush. "It's just such a shame that I can't leave this place. We'll have to settle for talking some more."
"I don't mind that at all. Tell me a bit about yourself."
Maeve tilts her head. "Where to start? It's difficult. Let's make it a game. Do you know two truths and a lie?"
It is a simple game you remember having played with the squires before. "That's where you say three things about yourself and I have to guess which one's the lie, right?"
"Exactly! Doesn't that sound like fun? Don't worry, I'll pick things you understand, not hidden dryad knowledge or anything like that."
"Sure, why not. Hit me with it."
Maeve claps her hands together in excitement. "Okay, I need a minute to think."
You can't help but smile. "Take your time."
She closes her eyes and purses her lips, clearly concentrating deeply. It takes a while, but watching her think is entertaining in itself.
Almost explosively, she opens her eyes and raises her hand, holding out three fingers. "I've got it. Now listen closely, here are my three statements: I have six sisters. My favourite drink is plum wine. I like to go swimming."
You ruminate on her statements for a second. Right off the bat, none of them seem too unbelievable.
"This isn't easy," you admit. "I pretty much just have to guess. I assume dryads can go in water?"
"They can, as long as it's in close proximity to one of their trees."
You narrow your eyes at her. "What's the likelyhood of your trees being next to a body of water large enough to swim in?"
Maeve laughs lightly; the sound reminds you of bells chiming. "Hmm. I wonder!"
"Six sisters sounds like a lot, but not like too much to be ridiculous," you continue. "I've never had plum wine but I've heard it's good. Both could be true."
"Yes, yes. So, what's the lie then?" Her black eyes glimmer with mirth.
[[“You don't have six sisters.“|Chapter4.M2A]]
[[“Plum wine isn't your favourite drink.“|Chapter4.M2B]]
[[“You don't like to go swimming.“|Chapter4.M2C]]Lady Maeve jumps up in excitement before promptly sitting back down. "That's correct! I am the youngest of six sisters, so I only have five. It wasn't far from the truth but you figured it out. That's impressive."
You can't help but feel proud at that. "It seemed like the easiest thing to lie about. You just have to change the number."
Maeve taps her temple. "That was exactly my thought process."
"What was it like growing up with five sisters? I assume you don't have any brothers?"
Maeve’s gaze turns fond. “Oh, ‘twas absolute chaos. No brothers in our family, no. It has to do with the species of tree you are bonded to, and we don’t reproduce quite like humans do, but that’s a topic for another day. I’m the youngest of my sisters, so while they were always looking out for me, it could get quite suffocating at points. We can’t leave our grove, after all. I love them all to bits, though.”
“I grew up as an only child so I can only imagine what that’s like. Though now that I think about it, I guess I could have siblings, somewhere out there. One more thing to worry about.” The thought of it sends your mind reeling, trying to grapple with the idea that there might be even more people sharing your blood than you had previously considered.
Some sort of emotion must have shown on your face for Maeve suddenly looks worried, tugging restlessly at a strand of her soft pink hair.
“I have been meaning to ask, $playername… How are you holding up, all things considered? The fact that you came to see me today made me think you were all right, but I know ‘tis not that easy.” Though her black eyes are hard to read, you don’t doubt the sympathy you see in them.
“Truly? It has been… painful, and confusing. Even now still my thoughts are a mess.” It is an understatement to be sure, but putting it all into words would be much worse. Even saying this much isn’t easy.
Maeve nods slowly. “Have you told anyone?”
“No. No one knows. I haven’t even considered it yet. The only one I can talk about it with is you.” You shrug, somewhat half-heartedly.
You must have looked truly lost and pitiful because Maeve immediately shuffles closer to you. She doesn’t touch you, but you can feel her warmth nonetheless.
“Oh. I fear I might not be enough in the long run, as far as confidants go, though I agree that it might be best to keep it a secret for now.” Her gaze flickers to the castle. “Even if it is painful. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
You have to clear your throat before you can speak, a little overwhelmed with the sudden validation of your feelings. “Right. Now that I know that you were telling the truth, I figure I should thank you. For explaining everything to me. So thank you, Maeve.”
“T'was my pleasure. I do am glad I was the one elected to reach out to you. Had it been someone else we might well be at war already.” Maeve smiles brightly, a clear attempt to lift the mood. “The fact that you’re giving me the time of day like this means I did something right.”
[[“You did. You were very patient with me.”|Chapter4.M3A]]
[[“Well, you are an intriguing person. Charming, too.”|Chapter4.M3B]]Lady Maeve jumps up in victory before promptly sitting back down. "Ah, sorry, but plum wine really is my favourite drink. The lie was the first one: I am the youngest of six sisters, so I only have five."
You sigh in disappointment. "So you just changed the number? How tricky!"
Maeve looks proud. "That's the key to lying: don't overdo it!"
"What was it like growing up with five sisters? I assume you don't have any brothers?"
Maeve’s gaze turns fond. “Oh, ‘twas absolute chaos. No brothers in our family, no. It has to do with the species of tree you are bonded to, and we don’t reproduce quite like humans do, but that’s a topic for another day. I’m the youngest of my sisters, so while they were always looking out for me, it could get quite suffocating at points. We can’t leave our grove, after all. I love them all to bits, though.”
“I grew up as an only child so I can only imagine what that’s like. Though now that I think about it, I guess I could have siblings, somewhere out there. One more thing to worry about.” The thought of it sends your mind reeling, trying to grapple with the idea that there might be even more people sharing your blood than you had previously considered.
Some sort of emotion must have shown on your face for Maeve suddenly looks worried, tugging restlessly at a strand of her soft pink hair.
“I have been meaning to ask, $playername… How are you holding up, all things considered? The fact that you came to see me today made me think you were all right, but I know ‘tis not that easy.” Though her black eyes are hard to read, you don’t doubt the sympathy you see in them.
“Truly? It has been… painful, and confusing. Even now still my thoughts are a mess.” It is an understatement to be sure, but putting it all into words would be much worse. Even saying this much isn’t easy.
Maeve nods slowly. “Have you told anyone?”
“No. No one knows. I haven’t even considered it yet. The only one I can talk about it with is you.” You shrug, somewhat half-heartedly.
You must have looked truly lost and pitiful because Maeve immediately shuffles closer to you. She doesn’t touch you, but you can feel her warmth nonetheless.
“Oh. I fear I might not be enough in the long run, as far as confidants go, though I agree that it might be best to keep it a secret for now.” Her gaze flickers to the castle. “Even if it is painful. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
You have to clear your throat before you can speak, a little overwhelmed with the sudden validation of your feelings. “Right. Now that I know that you were telling the truth, I figure I should thank you. For explaining everything to me. So thank you, Maeve.”
“T'was my pleasure. I am glad I was the one elected to reach out to you. Had it been someone else we might well be at war already.” Maeve smiles brightly, a clear attempt to lift the mood. “The fact that you’re giving me the time of day like this means I did something right.”
[[“You did. You were very patient with me.”|Chapter4.M3A]]
[[“Well, you are an intriguing person. Charming, too.”|Chapter4.M3B]]Lady Maeve jumps up in victory before promptly sitting back down. "Ah, sorry, but I really do like to go swimming. The lie was the first one: I am the youngest of six sisters, so I only have five."
You sigh in disappointment. "So you just changed the number? How tricky!"
Maeve looks proud. "That's the key to lying: don't overdo it!"
"What was it like growing up with five sisters? I assume you don't have any brothers?"
Maeve’s gaze turns fond. “Oh, ‘twas absolute chaos. No brothers in our family, no. It has to do with the species of tree you are bonded to, and we don’t reproduce quite like humans do, but that’s a topic for another day. I’m the youngest of my sisters, so while they were always looking out for me, it could get quite suffocating at points. We can’t leave our grove, after all. I love them all to bits, though.”
“I grew up as an only child so I can only imagine what that’s like. Though now that I think about it, I guess I could have siblings, somewhere out there. One more thing to worry about.” The thought of it sends your mind reeling, trying to grapple with the idea that there might be even more people sharing your blood than you had previously considered.
Some sort of emotion must have shown on your face for Maeve suddenly looks worried, tugging restlessly at a strand of her soft pink hair.
“I have been meaning to ask, $playername… How are you holding up, all things considered? The fact that you came to see me today made me think you were all right, but I know ‘tis not that easy.” Though her black eyes are hard to read, you don’t doubt the sympathy you see in them.
“Truly? It has been… painful, and confusing. Even now still my thoughts are a mess.” It is an understatement to be sure, but putting it all into words would be much worse. Even saying this much isn’t easy.
Maeve nods slowly. “Have you told anyone?”
“No. No one knows. I haven’t even considered it yet. The only one I can talk about it with is you.” You shrug, somewhat half-heartedly.
You must have looked truly lost and pitiful because Maeve immediately shuffles closer to you. She doesn’t touch you, but you can feel her warmth nonetheless.
“Oh. I fear I might not be enough in the long run, as far as confidants go, though I agree that it might be best to keep it a secret for now.” Her gaze flickers to the castle. “Even if it is painful. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
You have to clear your throat before you can speak, a little overwhelmed with the sudden validation of your feelings. “Right. Now that I know that you were telling the truth, I figure I should thank you. For explaining everything to me. So thank you, Maeve.”
“T'was my pleasure. I am glad I was the one elected to reach out to you. Had it been someone else we might well be at war already.” Maeve smiles brightly, a clear attempt to lift the mood. “The fact that you’re giving me the time of day like this means I did something right.”
[[“You did. You were very patient with me.”|Chapter4.M3A]]
[[“Well, you are an intriguing person. Charming, too.”|Chapter4.M3B]]Maeve looks surprised. “People don’t usually call me that. I am known to be impulsive, flippant, and at times mean-spirited.”
You smile wryly. “Maybe my standards are a little low. But I do think you are good at explaining things, and teaching requires some modicum of patience at the very least.”
“It is nice to hear, in any case, even if I don’t agree with your assessment of me.”
“All the more reason for us to get to know each other better - so my assessment of you can grow more accurate.”
Maeve ducks her head to hide her grin. “My, my, aren’t you smooth? Would you truly be interested in simply spending time together?”
“Sure. I know we can only meet here and in secret, but maybe next time I could bring a bottle of plum wine or a deck of cards and we could just enjoy ourselves.”
“That sounds lovely,” she says and leans back, resting her head against the willow’s trunk. “I do wish I weren’t confined to this patch of dirt.”
You look up at the weeping willow. “If I got seeds from this willow and grew them, would I be able to carry the pot around with me and summon you thus?”
Maeve sighs dramatically. “If only it were that easy. Nay, the seeds must stem from the mother tree, and the sapling has to be of a decent size. But I much appreciate the thought.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to make do with this garden.” You can’t help but wonder what Maeve’s grove looks like and if you’ll ever get to see it. “So there’s water near your trees?”
“Yes. They grow next to a large lake, right along the shore. I like to spend much of my time in the water, just swimming back and forth with the kelpie that lives there.”
You hum thoughtfully. “It sounds magical when you describe it like that.”
“That’s what much of the fae lands are like, very different from here. Wild and natural, infused with the magic of the land. Diverse in its beauty. Also dangerous, fickle, and incomprehensible.” Maeve looks wistful as she speaks of it, and you wonder how much of the fae lands she has even been able to first hand see due to being bound to her trees.
“It seems in comparison that the kingdom is very structured,” you muse. “It’s divided into territories, the land is cultivated, there’s a lot of infrastructure.”
“It is very different,” Maeve says, staring at the castle walls. “But I understand humans need it for survival. Walls and roads - structure.”
Talking with Maeve like this comes naturally, and so you can’t help but wonder how big the differences between fae and humans really are. It can’t be impossible for them to understand each other, even if their way of life is different.
A sudden breeze flows through the garden and you can’t help but shiver. It has gotten late and the temperature has dropped. It’s not that you are particularly tired, but you know you’ll have to get up early and staying for much longer would be a neglect of your duties.
“It’s getting late,” you say. “I think I should go back inside soon.”
“Don’t let me keep you from your sleep, I’m sure you need it. We’ll see each other again next week, right?” Her tone is light and hopeful.
You can’t help but smile. “Of course. It’s been a joy talking to you, Maeve.”
“I feel much the same. Let us shake hands before you depart.”
You both get up, brushing off the dirt. Maeve steps closer to you and grins as she realises that you have to look up at her. Not only is she tall, but broad too, and the way her hair fans out around her head in floating, wispy strands adds even more to her height. She really does invoke images of a tree - strong and majestic.
She holds out her hand towards you and you grasp it. Her grip is strong and her hands are rough, not quite like tree bark but reminiscent of it. More strikingly though is the warmth of it and you are glad to return her handshake.
“Until next week,” she whispers, and the feeling as she disappears while you are still holding her hand feels surreal. You blink a few times, but she is truly gone.
[[No trace remains but the lingering warmth in the palm of your hand.|Chapter4.M4]]Maeve laughs happily. “You’re quite the flatterer. I hope you don’t say that to every lady you spend time with.”
Her reaction makes you grin. “Of course not. I only say that when it’s true. Though there aren’t many ladies I’d consider spending my time with in the first place.”
“You’re laying it on thick at this point,” Maeve warns but she really doesn’t seem to mind. “Speaking of, would you truly be interested in simply spending time together? Just for the fun of it?”
“Sure. I know we can only meet here and in secret, but maybe next time I could bring a bottle of plum wine or a deck of cards and we could just enjoy ourselves.”
“That sounds lovely,” she says and leans back, resting her head against the willow’s trunk. “I do wish I weren’t confined to this patch of dirt.”
You look up at the weeping willow. “If I got seeds from this willow and grew them, would I be able to carry the pot around with me and summon you thus?”
Maeve sighs dramatically. “If only it were that easy. Nay, the seeds must stem from the mother tree, and the sapling has to be of a decent size. But I much appreciate the thought.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to make do with this garden.” You can’t help but wonder what Maeve’s grove looks like and if you’ll ever get to see it. “So there’s water near your trees?”
“Yes. They grow next to a large lake, right along the shore. I like to spend much of my time in the water, just swimming back and forth with the kelpie that lives there.”
You hum thoughtfully. “It sounds magical when you describe it like that.”
“That’s what much of the fae lands are like, very different from here. Wild and natural, infused with the magic of the land. Diverse in its beauty. Also dangerous, fickle, and incomprehensible.” Maeve looks wistful as she speaks of it, and you wonder how much of the fae lands she has even been able to see first hand due to being bound to her trees.
“It seems in comparison that the kingdom is very structured,” you muse. “It’s divided into territories, the land is cultivated, there’s a lot of infrastructure.”
“It is very different,” Maeve says, staring at the castle walls. “But I understand humans need it for survival. Walls and roads - structure.”
Talking with Maeve like this comes naturally, and so you can’t help but wonder how big the differences between fae and humans really are. It can’t be impossible for them to understand each other, even if their way of life is different.
A sudden breeze flows through the garden and you can’t help but shiver. It has gotten late and the temperature has dropped. It’s not that you are particularly tired, but you know you’ll have to get up early and staying for much longer would be a neglect of your duties.
“It’s getting late,” you say. “I think I should go back inside soon.”
“Don’t let me keep you from your sleep, I’m sure you need it. We’ll see each other again next week, right?” Her tone is light and hopeful.
You can’t help but smile. “Of course. It’s been a joy talking to you, Maeve.”
“I feel much the same. Let us shake hands before you depart.”
You both get up, brushing off the dirt. Maeve steps closer to you and grins as she realises that you have to look up at her. Not only is she tall, but broad too, and the way her hair fans out around her head in floating, wispy strands adds even more to her height. She really does invoke images of a tree - strong and majestic.
She holds out her hand towards you and you grasp it. Her grip is strong and her hands are rough, not quite like tree bark but reminiscent of it. More strikingly though is the warmth of it and you are glad to return her handshake.
“Until next week,” she whispers, and the feeling as she disappears while you are still holding her hand feels surreal. You blink a few times, but she is truly gone.
[[No trace remains but the lingering warmth in the palm of your hand.|Chapter4.M4]]<<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
As you return to your room, your mind is filled with all you've learned about the fae today - and about Maeve. A sort of burning curiosity flares to life within you and you can't help but want to know more. It feels like filling in a blank, a patch of ignorance that is to be covered up.
You continue pondering Maeve's words. Talking with her paints the fae in a more sympathetic light. You still can't quite discern how much of what she is saying is the truth, and even if it is all truthful she will still clearly avoid mentioning anything that would taint the image of the fae she is constructing.
Still, you can't help but think there is merit to this exchange between you. Understanding between humans and fae - Maeve seems willing to foster it and you might be the only one who could truly make it happen.
Despite all of that, guilt lingers deep within you. You know Maeve isn't supposed to be here and you aren't supposed to indulge her. Even if your intentions are pure, there's something traitorous in what you are doing. Going behind Az'Lean's back, keeping secrets - will it work out in the long run? Is your heart strong enough to keep this up? You suppose only time will tell.
For now though, you have gained information and perspective. Still, what comes next isn't clear - there's a lot you could do. Advocating for harmony between humans and fae, keeping your head down and hoping for the best, confiding in someone about being a changeling, sabotaging the prince in order to protect the fae... There's no telling what the right move is.
Despite everything, you feel a bit more in control of your situation.
[[It is with a clearer mind than before that you return to your room.|Chapter4.19]]<img src="images/Chap5.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 23rd of the Cherry Moon
A few more or less uneventful days have passed since your trip to Westwale territory. The ride home had been marginally more comfortable, with the sun shining down on you the entire way, but you were all more than glad once you arrived home and got to rest. Your horses certainly needed it, and you too felt a deep soreness within your body.
So far, there haven’t been any news from Lord Westwale. The fact that there is nothing to report indicates that there haven’t been any more devastating attacks in his territory. There also haven’t been any worrying reports from the other territories, so for now the Wild Hunt that has been plaguing the area seems to remain inactive.
You wonder whether Thianne’s magical barrier devices, now dubbed mabs, really are enough to protect the people living near the border. It’s very possible that the Wild Hunt will simply move to a different location and find new victims there.
They might be biding their time, waiting to strike, or they might be deterred from any further attacks. Only time will tell. <i>Only time will tell whether you made the right choice.</i>
You haven’t forgotten the Dullahan you spotted, however. He had seen you. He had been watching you. There’s no way of knowing what he had been thinking or what his intentions were, but you get the distinct feeling that he was observing you for a reason.
Whatever might happen, all you can do is await the next council meeting. You know Thianne and Az’Lean want to push for the mass production of mabs in order to completely fortify Gaiapeia’s borders. Considering the amount of materials and mages you’d need to make it happen, surely some of the council members won’t approve. Then again, the other territories will soon complain about Westwale getting preferential treatment.
[[As to how the fae as a whole are going to react, you doubt they’ll be happy about this.|Chapter5.1]]Today is Thursday and you’ve been guarding Az’Lean as has become your routine. At this very moment, he is engaging in a private meeting with his father as you stand outside the door of the king’s study, trying your best not to accidentally listen in on their conversation.
While you don’t mean to pry, you can’t help but focus some of your attention on the noises coming from inside the room - just in case something unforeseen happens. You can’t quite make out the words, but from the tone of their voices alone, you have to assume it is a passionate debate on the brink of turning into an argument.
You weren’t explicitly informed what this meeting is about, but you assume it’s to do with recent events. Certainly, there seems to be an endless supply of topics to deliberate on as of late. A part of you is glad to be a knight and not a member of the council.
It’s the middle of the day, so the corridor you're standing in isn’t quite empty, with servants walking past you every so often. Your presence in the castle is starting to become more natural - the new Champion is no longer someone to be gaped at - and you in turn are starting to become familiar not only with the lay-out, but with the residents as well. There’s probably too many people living here for you to get to know them all by name, but you figure you should at least try to remember their faces. That would make it easier to spot an intruder.
As you idly watch another group of servants walk by, you spot Lester in the midst of them. He spots you as well and saunters over with a hand raised in greeting.
“Hey there, Champ. Looks like you’re on guard duty,” he says with a glance at the door behind you. “Isn’t that boring?”
“It’s not that bad. What are you up to?”
He grins. “Taking a break right now, though I’ve got to ‘escort’ Lady Aran back to her territory later today. By that I mean knights will do the escorting while I get to take care of her luggage.”
You remember Lady Aran and how unpleasant she’d been. “That sounds like it isn’t going to be fun.”
“No kidding. By the way, are you feeling better?” Lester asks as he stares up at you. <<if $Lester == 50>> There is real concern in his eyes. <<endif>>
Your heart skips a beat. Sure, you’ve been struggling with your identity, and you’ve been feeling exhausted after your return form Westwale territory - but you haven't mentioned anything to Lester. Was your state of mind that obvious to him?
“What do you mean?” you ask cautiously.
Lester scratches his beard and blinks a few times. “What do you mean ‘what do <i>I</i> mean’ - yesterday you told me you were sick! Sorry for caring, I guess.”
Your mind goes blank for a second. You didn’t do that. You didn’t see Lester at all yesterday, not even in passing. <i>At least you have no recollection of it.</i>
[[“Lester, I’m not sick and I haven’t seen you yesterday,” you say slowly and as earnestly as you can.|Chapter5.2A]]
[[“Oh, yes, I am feeling much better. So much so that I forgot all about it. Thank you for checking in,” you lie through your teeth.|Chapter5.2B]]“This right here is an impostor,” you call out, gesturing for the others to approach calmly.
Vynn is the first one to run up to you, eyes narrowed in concentration. They look you over from head to toe. <<if $pronoun == "her">>“She’s telling the truth. I can tell that she is the real $playername Grahm. This one… is not.”<<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "his">>“He’s telling the truth. I can tell that he is the real $playername Grahm. This one… is not.”<<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "their">> “They are telling the truth. I can tell that they are the real $playername Grahm. This one… is not.”<<endif>>\
Vynn eyes the impostor with curiosity. “They look the same, but I can tell from the expressions, and the body language.”
“I can confirm it as well. I just saw the real $playername, and they were wearing this exact set of armour. This is the real one, no doubt,” Lester adds, gesturing in your general direction.
All these affirmations seem to be enough to convince everyone else, Az’Lean included. The shadows seem to lift from his eyes, and when he looks at you next, it’s with his usual expression. <i>He trusts you.</i>
“Knights, secure the impostor. We’ll need to do some interrogating,” he orders. “$playername, at my side.”
“Yes,” you say in pure relief as you get up. Vynn pats you on the back and you both move over to Az’Lean, while the other knights circle around the impostor in a tight formation. There’s no way left for them to escape.
Lester and Thianne hang back, eyeing the impostor from a safe distance.
They remain seated, their back pressed against the stone wall, about a dozen swords pointed at them from all directions, $eyes eyes dull and lifeless. You’re still more than a little on edge and watch them intently. They must have truly lost all fight, for their body goes slack and all colour seems to drain from their face. They look less and less like you.
It is then you realise that they are not just surrendering, they are <i>dying</i>.
“Don’t let them die, we need answers!” you call out in a rush. You don’t know why this is happening, there’s no way you injured the impostor fatally in your little scuffle, so you think they might be doing this to themselves.
The knights are slow to react, and you still have more than enough adrenaline pumping through your veins, so you rush forward instead, grabbing the impostor's head and tilting it backwards.
Unfocused eyes gaze at you, and you see yourself reflected in them in a dizzying fashion. You try to check them for injuries, but there’s nothing. They are breathing, but it’s shallow. You try to get them to open their mouth, to see if they are choking, but they bite down hard on their own teeth, grinning up at you with all the malice they have left.
Thianne kneels down next to you, casting healing magic. <<if $element == "earth">>You join her with your own healing magic.<<endif>> Golden light glows and fades, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on the impostor.
“We’re losing them,” Thianne grumbles.
Az’Lean rushes forward, pushing you to the side in order to get to the impostor. He’s drawn a small dagger and doesn’t hesitate pressing it into the impostor's cheek, “Talk or your final moments will be excruciating. Who are you?”
You can feel the temperature around you drop as Az’Lean presses the dagger’s edge down, drawing blood across the impostor’s face.
“I am $playername Grahm,” the impostor manages while hissing in pain. The area around the cut looks… off, like it’s rotting right before your very eyes. You almost want to look away.
Az’Lean growls in frustration, digging the blade deeper, dangerously close to the impostor’s eye. “Why did you come here?”
“Justice.” The impostor reaches up a hand, grabs the dagger’s blade, not caring about the way it slices into their hand. With one sharp, fierce movement they plunge it deeper into their own face, breaking skin, flesh, and eventually bone.
The dagger is embedded deep within the impostor’s skull and they instantly go limp.
Az’Lean lets the dagger go with a curse and scrambles away, watching as the impostor slumps backwards, leaning lifelessly against the wall like a marionette with its strings cut.
Everybody else, you included, can do nothing but stare in shock at the corpse. It is bleeding heavily from a mangled face - <i>your</i> mangled face. All colour is draining from it, and $skin skin becomes more than just pale, it turns into an ashy grey. Glassy $eyes eyes are not just bloodshot, they are a deep, milky red. Strands of $haircolor hair disappear like an illusion, ears turn pointed and sharp, and at this point you don’t even recognise the facial structure as your own anymore. Because it isn’t your own, it’s that of someone younger than you, someone with much shorter legs.
[[The corpse turns into a changeling - the first other changeling you have ever seen.|Chapter5.11]]The first other changeling you have ever seen - lying dead before you, still dressed in your clothes. Any opportunity to learn more is gone, snuffed out. And for what? Some idiotic notion of-
“Justice?” Az’Lean spits the word in disbelief. His eyes look over the dead changeling, searching for an answer he won’t find.
“Is that… a fae of some kind?” one of the knights asks.
“That’s a changeling,” Lester answers. “A type of fae that can shapeshift.”
There’s a sense of uncertainty within the knights. They have failed in taking in the intruder for interrogation and are left with nothing but the knowledge that changelings can just walk into the castle undetected.
You find yourself scowling at the corpse. Whoever they were, whatever they wanted, all they’ve accomplished is make everything more complicated for you - nevermind that watching someone that looked like you die is sure to leave its own scars, once you get around to processing what just happened. Right now, you don’t feel much of anything beyond frustration.
“Awaiting orders, your majesty,” one of the knights says in an attempt to snap Az’Lean out of his trance.
Az’Lean scoffs as he runs a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss himself. He forces himself to look away from the corpse, turning around to face you. There’s concern in his eyes when he looks at you, but it’s quickly covered up by something darker.
“Bring it to the magical laboratory. Thianne, I want you to check it for any sort of enchantments or other magic that might linger beyond death. We’ll also need to inform my father and increase security. Lester, $playername, join me for a minute.”
As the knights and Thianne get to work, Az’Lean leads you and Lester away from the scene, further down the hallway and out of earshot of anyone else.
“You’re certain that’s a changeling?” is the first thing Az’Lean asks and you’re glad that his attention is resting solely on Lester.
“I know you never believe anything I say, but there’s no reason for me to lie. I’m giving you good information. That is a changeling, I’m certain of it. In fact, you can thank me for noticing them in the first place.” Lester leans back against the wall, almost smugly.
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
Lester’s grin widens. “I saw two Champs walking around, so I got suspicious. If they really were an assassin sent to kill you, I guess that means you owe me your life.”
Az’Lean frowns. “Debatable. I doubt they would’ve been able to take me on. Though I suppose I should thank you both for your vigilance and decisiveness. So, thank you. This could’ve gone better, but it could’ve also gone much worse. When was the first time you saw it?”
“Two days ago, I think. At first I thought I was just misremembering, but then it happened again earlier today, so I couldn’t ignore it.”
“To think that a changeling was just walking around here for two whole days, practically unnoticed. I fear to imagine how many more there could be,” Az’Lean says and visibly shudders. You instinctively try to make yourself as small as possible, but he suddenly starts to gesture in your direction, causing your heart to skip a beat. “And to choose $playername as a disguise of all things! Certainly, they must’ve meant to get close to me for one reason or another.”
“You know the reason, Princeling. Justice.” Lester draws the word out, letting it hang in the air for effect.
“How helpful. I wish we could’ve gotten more out of them. $playername, did you notice how they died?” Az’Lean’s piercing gaze is suddenly on you, and you realise that you’ve been silent for too long.
You quickly clear your throat. “Oh, erm, no. I assume it must have been magical.”
Az’Lean’s gaze softens and he steps closer to you. “Are you alright, $playername? That must have been a rather unsettling experience.”
[[“I’m fine, no need to worry.”|Chapter5.12A]]
[[“I just watched myself die. That’s… a lot. I’ll be fine eventually, I just need time to process.”|Chapter5.12B]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
“That’s good to hear. Still, if there’s anything you need, let me know.” Az’Lean doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but he seems willing to drop the subject of your well-being for now.
“So they died to avoid leaking information? That seems strange to me,” Lester says, continuing the previous topic.
Az’Lean shrugs. “It’s not strange if this was a suicide mission in the first place. If the changeling’s goal was to impersonate $playername in order to get close to me and kill me, even if they succeeded, they’d quickly be executed by my father. They might have anticipated death anyway.”
“They did try to convince you that they were the real me,” you add. “And it was I that they attacked, not you. Their plan might have been more long-term than just assassination.”
Az’Lean sighs. “Well, speculation won’t do us any good. I swear, if you had anything to do with this Lester-”
Lester doesn’t let him finish. “Oh please! If I hadn’t said anything, you or Champ might very well be dead by now. Besides, if I were planning an assassination, there’s no way I’d <i>fail</i>.” A dangerous spark springs to life in Lester’s eyes and you swear it is getting hotter.
“Do you hear what you’re saying right now? That alone would be grounds to suspect you for treason.” Az’Lean steps closer, looming over Lester, but it does nothing to make him back down.
“You already suspect me, so what I say won’t change anything,” Lester says with a snarl. “I don’t mind, anyway. It’s not like I expected gratitude. Next time, maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut, how about that?”
You swiftly step between them. “Let’s not do this right now, alright? A corpse is being wheeled away as we speak.” You gesture down the corridor to emphasise the absurdity of the situation - the changeling’s body has indeed been pulled onto a cart and is being dragged down the corridor. A bit of blood remains on the stone walls, slowly dripping onto the carpet.
Az’Lean runs a hand across his face for the second time, suddenly looking very tired.
Lester simply shrugs, but doesn’t continue to argue. “You are right,” he says. “In fact, maybe we should all take a moment. You look like you could do with some patching-up, $playername.”
You feel all the throbs and aches across your body, and you can’t help but agree. Even just sitting down for a moment would be wonderful, but then you’re afraid of what kind of thoughts would spring up out of your mind in the quiet of the aftermath.
“Do you need to see a healer?” Az’Lean asks.
“No, I can take care of this myself,” you say. “Then, am I excused for a moment?”
“Of course. I’ll have to go inform my father of what happened. In fact, just take the rest of the day off. I’m not really in the mood to get back to archery practise myself.” Az’Lean attempts a smile, but it turns out a little crooked.
“Taking the rest of the day off sounds like a great idea. Thanks for the permission, Princeling!” Lester says before sauntering away as fast as he can. When he reaches the stairs he turns around, gives you two a mocking salute, and jumps down five steps at a time.
Az’Lean stares after him with a stony expression. “Then I guess I'll see you on Monday at the latest, $playername. Let me know if anything else comes up. Oh, and when you see me next, could you say: The roses are in full bloom today?” He looks sheepish for a moment. “Just, uh, just so I know it’s really you?”
“Oh. Yes, I mean, of course. I’ll make sure to say it first thing.”
You only just now realise that you aren’t the only one affected by this encounter. For Az’Lean, to know someone else could have taken his Champion’s place… It must be hard for him not to second guess you every time you see him. It must be hard not to second guess every other person in this castle.
[[You hope that, whatever this means for the trust between you, it isn’t permanent.|Chapter5.13]]“That is understandable. I can only imagine how shocking this must have been for you to witness. How about we continue talking in your room? That’ll give you the chance to sit down and not have to see… <i>this</i>.” Az’Lean awkwardly gestures in the direction of the corpse, while simultaneously trying to shield it from your view.
“Sitting down sounds lovely, I’ve been running around all day,” Lester says as he grabs your arm, pulling you towards your room. You clearly don’t get a say in the matter, so there’s no reason to protest.
You open the door to your room and welcome Lester and Az’Lean inside.
Lester immediately starts looking around before taking a seat on your window sill. “Nice place you got here.”
You simply hum in response as you take a seat on the edge of your bed, sighing with relief. It feels like a tightly coiled spring loosens in your chest and you can breathe easy again.
Az’Lean closes the door and leans against it, deep in thought. “Do you think they died simply to avoid leaking information?” he asks.
“That would seem strange to me,” Lester says. “After all the effort they went through?”
Az’Lean shrugs. “It’s not strange if this was a suicide mission in the first place. If the changeling’s goal was to impersonate $playername in order to get close to me and kill me, even if they succeeded, they’d quickly be executed by my father. They might have anticipated death anyway.”
“They did try to convince you that they were the real me,” you add. “And it was I that they attacked, not you. Their plan might have been more long-term than just assassination.”
Az’Lean sighs. “Well, speculation won’t do us any good. Lester, I need you to promise me-”
Lester doesn’t let him finish. “Yes, yes, I promise I had nothing to do with this. Just because I’m half-fae doesn’t mean I know every single fae out there. If I hadn’t said anything, you or Champ might very well be dead by now.”
“You say that, but…” Az’Lean trails off, uncertain. “I am <i>grateful</i> for your help, Lester, but don’t think this is enough to earn my trust.”
“You already suspect me, so what I say won’t change anything,” Lester says with a snarl. “I don’t mind, anyway. I know that you’re unreasonably stubborn. Next time, maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut about what I saw, how about that?”
You loudly clear your throat. “Let’s not do this right now, alright? As you said, Az’Lean, speculation won’t get us anywhere.”
Az’Lean runs a hand across his face for the second time, suddenly looking very tired.
Lester simply shrugs, but doesn’t continue to argue. “You are right,” he says. “In fact, maybe we should all take a moment. You look like you could do with some patching-up, $playername.”
You feel all the throbs and aches across your body, and you can’t help but agree. Even just lying down and closing your eyes for a moment would be wonderful, but then you’re afraid of what kind of thoughts would spring up out of your mind in the quiet of the aftermath.
“Do you need to see a healer?” Az’Lean asks.
“No, I can take care of this myself,” you say. “Then, could I take a moment to rest?”
“Of course. I’ll have to go inform my father of what happened, anyway. In fact, just take the rest of the day off. I’m not really in the mood to get back to practising archery myself.” Az’Lean attempts a smile, but it turns out a little crooked.
“Taking the rest of the day off sounds like a great idea. Thanks for the permission, Princeling!” Lester says before jumping off the window sill. He slips past Az’Lean, opens the door and disappears out into the hallway with a mocking salute.
Az’Lean stares after him with a stony expression. “Then I’ll see you on Monday at the latest, $playername. Let me know if anything else comes up. Oh, and when you see me next, could you say: The roses are in full bloom today?” He looks sheepish for a moment. “Just, uh, just so I know it’s really you?”
“Oh. Yes, I mean, of course. I’ll make sure to say it first thing.”
You only just now realise that you aren’t the only one affected by this encounter. For Az’Lean, to know someone else could have taken his Champion’s place… It must be hard for him not to second guess you every time you see him. It must be hard not to second guess every other person in this castle.
[[You hope that, whatever this means for the trust between you, it isn’t permanent.|Chapter5.13]]As soon as you are alone, you quickly begin going through the motions. You lock the door, check that your window is secured as well, and begin getting yourself cleaned and patched up. <<if $element == "earth">>You cast some healing magic on yourself and begin feeling better almost immediately.<<endif>>\
As you change into some more comfortable clothes, you can’t help but imagine the other changeling going through your things, rifling around in your chests and trying on your clothes. It feels intrusive, like you can’t feel safe in your room anymore. Like you can’t feel safe in your own skin.
You try to push the feeling aside as best as you can, instead trying to focus on what you can do right now. After making sure to drink some water, you lie down on your bed and simply let yourself relax. You can feel the adrenaline crash as it happens, the sudden exhaustion and floatiness that always follows a fight or dangerous situation. Carefully, you stretch your muscles, you focus on your breathing, and wait for your riled up nerves to calm down.
Once it feels like your body has had some time to cool off, you get back up and start working on writing a report. It’s important to get everything you remember down on paper before going to sleep and losing important details. Everything the impostor said and did - although it wasn’t much - might turn out to be crucial in getting to the bottom of this. You also try to recall Lester’s account, though you hope he’ll be providing a report of his own.
It doesn’t take you long to finish the report and it’s still only late afternoon. You skipped lunch, you realise, and decide it’s important to at least get a proper dinner. Heading into town sounds like too much effort, but eating with the other knights in the castle shouldn’t be too exhausting. It turns out to even be helpful in keeping your mind off of everything that happened today, so when you ultimately return to your room, you actually feel rather refreshed.
It doesn’t last long. As soon as you are alone once more, now with nothing you can do to keep yourself occupied, you find yourself ruminating.
Why was the changeling here? What did they want?
If you’d done things differently, could you have gotten them to talk?
Was it really necessary for them to die? Why <i>did</i> they die?
What did Vynn think when they watched? How does Az’lean feel about what happened? Thianne will be examining the corpse… What will she find? What does Lester think about fae infiltrating the castle?
Did Maeve know anything about this?
How many more changelings are just hidden somewhere around here? How many of them know about <i>you</i>? And what do they want?
Justice?
[[They are intruders, no matter what. They deserve neither mercy nor sympathy.|Chapter5.14A]]
[[You don’t want Az’Lean to get hurt, but if there had been a chance to properly speak to the changeling, you would have heard them out.|Chapter5.14B]]
[[Maybe you should not have stopped them and let them seek their justice...|Chapter5.14C]]<<set $humanity to $humanity + 10>>\
That’s right. The only thing you should be concerned about is the fact that a fae made it this far. The Queen was assassinated a few years ago, and now they are after Az’Lean. Clearly, the castle’s defences are lacking when it comes to protecting against fae. You should have never left Az’Lean’s side. It’s clear to you now that it was a mistake.
Knowing that there might be more changelings around just means you need to be even more vigilant. You can’t rest until all of them have been discovered and removed. Well, all of them aside from you, naturally.
You’re different though. You were raised by humans, you serve a human kingdom, and if you simply never use your powers and ignore everything Maeve was trying to tell you, you might as well <i>be</i> human.
So clearly, the only thing you should feel torn up about is neglecting your duty. Not being a good enough Champion.
And those thoughts do rattle you, eat away at you, torment you. And try as you might, seeing that impostor turn from you into a changeling is a stark reminder that, even if you are human in every way that counts, you know what you are, and every time someone looks at you, you are actively deceiving them, aren’t you?
You are a walking lie, deceit incarnate, just as much a fraud and an impostor as that other changeling.
You begin pacing around in your room, your physical action mirroring the repetitive nature of the thoughts inside your head. This isn’t good, you can feel yourself spiralling. After making it through almost two weeks without issues, is this what sets you back again?
Back to that nauseating helplessness? Back to not being able to look at yourself in a mirror?
[[No, this can’t continue. You have to do something.|Chapter5.15]]That’s what gets to you the most. This changeling, whoever they might have been, whatever reason they truly had for infiltrating the castle, can you honestly condemn them without knowing the truth? If only you had been able to speak with them properly. You could have learned more about yourself. Maybe they knew about you. Maybe they were related to you.
Now though, there’s no way to find out. Another chance to foster understanding gone in favour of bloodshed. Knowing that there might be more changelings around means there could be other opportunities like this. Maybe next time, it could end better. Maybe next time there would be an option to talk.
Still, you are the Champion, and you cannot let your curiosity get in the way of your duty. The changeling was clearly a danger, so you were right to fight them. Their death might have been inevitable. Is finding out more about your origin and purpose worth the safety of the kingdom? You’re not selfish enough to think so.
But still, you want to know more. You <i>need</i> to know more. You want to <i>understand</i>, not just yourself, but the fae as a whole. But how far would you go to get there?
Those thoughts and questions rattle you, eat away at you, torment you. And try as you might, seeing that impostor turn from you into a changeling is a stark reminder that, even if you are simply trying to do what you think is best, you can only do it in conjunction with lies and secrets, and every time someone looks at you, you are actively deceiving them, aren’t you?
You are a walking lie, deceit incarnate, just as much a fraud and an impostor as that other changeling.
You begin pacing around in your room, your physical action mirroring the repetitive nature of the thoughts inside your head. This isn’t good, you can feel yourself spiralling. After making it through almost two weeks without issues, is this what sets you back again?
Back to that nauseating helplessness? Back to not being able to look at yourself in a mirror?
[[No, this can’t continue. You have to do something.|Chapter5.15]]<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
It makes sense if you think about it. Would that changeling really throw away their life if their cause wasn’t worthy? If they didn’t fully believe in the fact that the fae deserved justice, and that Gaiapeia was standing in the way of it? Maeve had asked much the same of you - to try and influence Az’Lean, or sabotage him if that wasn’t enough. Maybe that changeling was here for a similar reason, yet they died and you live.
What would have happened if they hadn’t died? Would they really have tried to kill Az’Lean? There’s no way to find out, at this point, but maybe they were here for a different reason. Maybe they were here for a <i>good</i> reason. Maybe they were here because you haven’t properly aligned yourself with the fae.
Knowing that there might be more changelings around, maybe you should seek them out. Not only might they have information about you, there’s even a chance that they are related to you. Even if you were raised by humans and serve a human kingdom, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to connect with your origins.
Of course, associating with fae who are within the kingdom’s borders is an act of treason, but then aren’t you committing treason every day just by existing? It seems like you only really have two choices: be a traitor, lie about it and stay, or be a traitor, accept it and leave.
These thoughts rattle you, eat away at you, torment you. And try as you might, seeing that impostor turn from you into a changeling is a stark reminder that, no matter how you look, you aren’t a human on the inside, and every time someone looks at you, you are actively deceiving them, aren’t you?
You are a walking lie, deceit incarnate, just as much a fraud and an impostor as that other changeling.
You begin pacing around in your room, your physical action mirroring the repetitive nature of the thoughts inside your head. This isn’t good, you can feel yourself spiralling. After making it through almost two weeks without issues, is this what sets you back again?
Back to that nauseating helplessness? Back to not being able to look at yourself in a mirror?
[[No, this can’t continue. You have to do something.|Chapter5.15]]But what can you do? Other than suppressing your fears and carrying on? Trying to get through the days while figuring out more? Trying to balance your duties as Champion with your identity as a changeling? If such a thing is even possible. You’re starting to think it might not be.
What can you do? Give up and leave the kingdom? Resign yourself to forever living a lie? Turn traitor and dismantle the monarchy from the inside out? All of these options seem incredibly lonely and likely to end in your early death.
If that’s all the options you have left, then what’s really the point of trying to live normally? Maybe you should just give up - in one way or another.
You can feel your breathing pick up, and you suddenly feel jittery and disjointed. Your pacing becomes faster and faster until it’s dizzying and you have to sit down. You can barely feel the bed beneath you and try to grasp the covers so you feel like there’s something to hold onto. It doesn’t really work.
Maybe you need some emotional support from someone you can trust. That doesn’t mean you have to tell them anything, but just being in someone else’s company, knowing there’s someone who cares about you, who would look out for you, might be all you need right now.
Sometimes just knowing that you aren’t alone and that you don’t have to go through everything on your own is enough.
Your breath is still kind of uneven as you put on your boots once more, ready to head out. Even just the distraction of having something to do helps a little, but you absolutely can’t dwell on it or it will get worse again.
That being said, who can you go to?
You suppose Vynn is the obvious choice - they have been someone you can confide in for years now. But sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who doesn’t know you as well.
Az’Lean is right next door - you get the feeling he’d be understanding. Then again, is he really in any position to help you?
Maeve already knows about your secret - you could be totally honest with her. However, you can’t be certain she won’t use your vulnerability to try and get you on her side.
Thianne has a certain calming presence about her - you bet she’d be able to give you some helpful advice. But at the same time, you don’t know her that well yet and it feels like there’s still some distance between you.
Lester would be able to cheer you up - you’re certain he’d be able to distract you for a while. But can you speak openly with him? Can you even trust him?
What matters isn’t just how you feel about them, though. It matters even more how they feel about you.
<<if $Vynn < 54>>You and Vynn are still somewhat close, but there are other people in your life now too.<<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 54>>Vynn and you are as close as ever, so there’s not really anything to worry about.<<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 79>>In fact, the two of you might have even gotten closer recently.<<endif>>\
<<if $Az < 54>>You’re not sure if you’re close enough to Az’Lean yet to bother him with something like this.<<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 54>>You feel like you’ve already gotten closer to Az’Lean over the past two weeks. This might just be the next step.<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve == 0>>There’s no way that you can go see Maeve after what happened.<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve == 30>>Maeve might not be willing to help you at this point.<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve == 40>>You aren’t too sure about Maeve still.<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve == 45>>You aren’t too sure about Maeve still.<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve == 50>>You aren’t too sure about Maeve still.<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 50>>You feel like you and Maeve have gotten along so far, and she does seem to care about you somewhat.<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne < 51>>You don’t feel like Thianne really sees you as anything other than an acquaintance.<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 51>>You feel like Thianne has warmed up to you somewhat, and that she probably cares about you in her own way.<<endif>>\
<<if $Lester > 39>>Lester seems to have taken a liking to you, at least somewhat.<<endif>>\
<<if $Lester < 39>>Lester probably doesn’t trust you, and you wonder whether he’d really be willing to offer you the support you need.<<endif>>\
Considering all that, who should you seek out? You can’t stand to be alone with your thoughts for another minute.
<<if $Vynn > 60>> [[Vynn will be able to help you.|Chapter5Vynn1]] <<endif>>\
[[Az’Lean said you should tell him if there was something you needed, so you’ll do just that.|Chapter5Az1]]
<<if $Maeve > 45>> [[You can talk honestly with Maeve, so she’s your best option.|Chapter5Maeve1]] <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 55>> [[Thianne is reliable and calm, just what you need right now.|Chapter5Thianne1]] <<endif>>\
<<if $Lester > 35>> [[Lester might make fun of you, but you know he’d try to help.|Chapter5Lester1]] <<endif>>\His brow furrows and he looks uncertain. “You don’t remember seeing me yesterday? I could’ve sworn that happened.”
You shake your head. “I’m just as confused as you, Lester. I have no idea where this mismatch in our memories comes from.”
“Truth be told, Champ, I might have been indulging in some <i>herbal recreation</i> yesterday, but I didn’t think my mind would come up with something like that,” Lester says while scratching the back of his head. “That must’ve been it though.”
You’re not entirely convinced, but you’d hate to come across as paranoid by pressing the issue. Instead, you make a vow with yourself to be more careful than ever. Apparently, a day can’t go by without something strange happening.
“Let me know if anything else like that happens. Never hurts to be careful,” you say.
Lester grins at you mockingly. “Sure thing, Champ. Glad you’re looking out for me.”
He doesn’t seem to take this seriously at all, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he holds himself. He’s confused, maybe even frightened at the thought of his memory being unreliable, and you hope he truly will come to you should anything happen.
“I should be going though, at any rate. Don’t want to be here when Princeling emerges out of that door,” he says with a dramatic full-body shudder. “That would sour my day instantly.”
“Well then, don’t let me keep you. See you around, Lester.”
“Have a good one, $playername.” Lester gives you a mock-salute before sauntering off.
You spend some time mulling over this interaction with Lester, trying to make sense of it. Was he really just hallucinating a conversation with you? Or did it really happen and <i>you</i> are the one with faulty memory?
Before you can come to a conclusion either way, the door behind you opens and Az’Lean steps outside, looking a bit worse for wear.
You give him a moment to breathe before you ask: “Is everything alright? How did it go?”
Az’Lean grunts. “Could have been worse. We argued a lot, but I did manage to get my father to agree that mass production of Thianne’s mabs is a good idea - in concept. We couldn’t agree on anything as far as the execution of that project is concerned, however. We’ll need to get the opinions of other mages, concrete numbers on production costs, risk evaluations and all of that. While we waste our time with that, the Wild Hunt will have found a new place to terrorise.”
“Sounds like you’re in a difficult position,” you say. “You’ll have to delegate if you want things to get done in a reasonable amount of time.”
“Delegate… I just don’t have enough people I can trust, $playername,” Az’Lean says curtly and ends the conversation right then and there.
[[You go about the rest of your day, an atmosphere of stress hanging over Az’Lean all the while.|Chapter5.3]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
Lester raises an eyebrow, but seems to accept your answer. “That’s good to hear, Champ. You had me worried there for a second. After I heard you had been riding through a bunch of rain, I would’ve been more surprised if no one had gotten sick.”
“The weather in Westwale territory was bloody awful,” you say in agreement.
“You were a right mess yesterday. It’s not that I was <i>worried</i> about you, just…” he looks sheepish for a moment, “Just, what if it was contagious, you know? Then it would be something to look out for.”
“Makes sense,” you say with a slight smile while inwardly dissecting what he means by you being a mess. There is a clear discrepancy between his and your memories of yesterday. Apparently, he met you and you were off in some kind of way.
Something strange is going on. Either Lester was hallucinating, or you were sleep-walking, or something like that at any rate. Maybe you could have asked him for details if you didn’t lie, but it was an instinctual decision you can’t undo now.
You decide whatever weird thing is going on now, you’ll have to be more careful than ever. No rest for the wicked.
Lester stares up at you with an unreadable expression.
“I should be going though, at any rate. Don’t want to be here when Princeling emerges out of that door,” he says with a dramatic full-body shudder. “That would sour my day instantly.”
“Well then, don’t let me keep you. See you around, Lester.”
“Have a good one, $playername.” Lester gives you a mock-salute before sauntering off.
You spend some time mulling over this interaction with Lester, trying to make sense of it. Was he really just hallucinating a conversation with you? Or did it actually happen and you are the one with faulty memory?
Before you can come to a conclusion either way, the door behind you opens and Az’Lean steps outside, looking a bit worse for wear.
You give him a moment to breathe before you ask: “Is everything alright? How did it go?”
Az’Lean grunts. “Could have been worse. We argued a lot, but I did manage to get my father to agree that mass production of Thianne’s mabs is a good idea - in concept. We couldn’t agree on anything as far as the execution of that project is concerned, however. We’ll need to get the opinions of other mages, concrete numbers on production costs, risk evaluations and all of that. While we waste our time with that, the Wild Hunt will have found a new place to terrorise.”
“Sounds like you’re in a difficult position,” you say. “You’ll have to delegate if you want things to get done in a reasonable amount of time.”
“Delegate… I just don’t have enough people I can trust, $playername,” Az’Lean says curtly and ends the conversation right then and there.
[[You go about the rest of your day, an atmosphere of stress hanging over Az’Lean all the while.|Chapter5.3]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 24th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, Az’Lean decides he needs to take a break - not just for his sake, but for the sake of Gaiapeia at large. It makes sense, you suppose, that important decisions shouldn’t be made while feeling overly tense and irate.
He asks you to join him for some leisure time and suggests doing something you enjoy.
<<if $hobby == "chess">> It has been some time since you last played a good match of chess, so you welcome the opportunity. You bring your own wooden chess set, an old gift from your father, and the two of you retreat out into the courtyard. It is a bright day outside, and the occasional bird song makes for a rather charming atmosphere.
While you are setting up the pieces, Vynn just so happens to pass by, and decides that your match desperately needs an enthusiastic commentator. Az’Lean lets you play white, and Vynn describes your opening move as vividly as they can.
As the match continues, you get the feeling that under normal circumstances, Az’Lean would be the better player. But unlike you, he isn’t used to Vynn’s antics, and ends up being distracted by them. You immediately notice when he makes a fatal mistake and quickly end the match in your favour.
Vynn is accused of meddling, rematches are promised, and overall you spend a good few hours simply having fun.<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "animals">> It has been a few days since you last went to the stables just for fun, so you welcome the opportunity. On the way there, you run into Lester, and he decides to accompany you with the express intent of pestering Az’Lean. To your surprise, Az’Lean allows him to tag along.
The stables aren’t too busy today. It is a bright day outside, and the occasional bird song makes for a rather serene atmosphere. As you slowly and meticulously begin brushing Faiche, Az’Lean does the same to Tàhm. Lester has found a stray cat in the meantime and somehow convinces her to curl up in his lap.
Despite saying he was here to be annoying, Lester remains mostly silent aside from the occasional comment. It seems even he needs a day just to relax, especially considering that he only returned from his short trip to Aran territory this morning. At some point, the cat falls asleep in his lap, and you notice that his eyes are falling shut too.
The horses are tended to, naps are being had, and overall you spend a good few hours simply enjoying yourself. <<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "reading">> It has been a while since you had the opportunity to fully immerse yourself in a good book, so you are all for this idea. Az’Lean accompanies you to the library and you waste no time in showing him all your favourite stories and giving him recommendations.
You grab the newest volume of a fantasy serial you've been reading while Az’Lean choses a mystery novel from among your recommendations. As you are looking for a quiet and cosy place to settle in, you come across Thianne. It isn’t surprising to find her here, but you didn’t expect her to offer you a place in her reading nook.
It is tucked away in a corner, almost hidden, with a few plush armchairs arranged around a small round table. You see no reason to turn Thianne’s invitation down. The three of you read in companionable silence, and you relish in the warmth and peace of it.
The volume you are reading turns out to be full of suspense and expertly written action scenes. Az’Lean seems enraptured by what he is reading as well, and although Thianne’s face remains impassive, she is practically devouring the large tome in front of her.
Pages are turned, silence is shared, and overall you spend a good few hours simply enjoying yourself. <<endif>>\
When the day ends and you part ways, you feel good about yourself. You really needed this moment of effortless companionship.
[[Another day ends.|Chapter5.4]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 25th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you find yourself out on the training grounds with Az’Lean. Today, the two of you want to practise your archery - a discipline you both are decent in, but still have a lot of room for improvement. You are barely finished gearing up when Az’Lean lets out a loud groan.
“What’s up?” you ask as you test the tautness of your bowstring.
“I forgot something in my room. I got gifted these enchanted arrows that burst into flame upon hitting their target, and I wanted to try one out to see if they actually work.” Az’Lean runs a hand through his hair. “I suppose I shall have to do it another time.”
You look out at the training grounds - there are dozens of knights, all geared up and prepared for a fight. A safer environment than this would be hard to come by.
“I could go and get it, if you’d like,” you offer. You should be able to get there within minutes, and see no reason to stay by Az’Lean’s side at this particular moment. “You could get started with some regular arrows in the meantime.”
“Would you? I’d go back and get it myself but a prince shouldn’t be seen sprinting through the halls.”
“I don’t mind, it won’t take long,” you say and begin quickly leaving the training grounds. You enter the castle through a side entrance and hurry to the first floor of the southern wing.
Just as you exit the spiral staircase, you nearly run into someone rounding the corner. It’s Lester, you quickly realise, who seems to be in just as much of a hurry as you.
“Sorry mate, I didn’t-” he trails off when he sees you, his bright green eyes going impossibly wide. Lester takes a step back in surprise.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Lester. Everything alright?”
He blinks a few times. “How the fuck did you just do that?”
“Do what?” you ask, looking around confused.
“How did you get here?” Lester asks, and his tone takes on a sense of urgency.
You point behind you. “I walked up the stairs? Lester, what is going on?”
He takes a deep breath and staples his hands beneath his chin. “Bear with me, Champ, but I swear to the Gods I just saw you heading in the opposite direction.”
An unsettling sense of dread starts creeping up on you, and your mouth starts to go dry. “Lester, I haven’t seen you all day. What the Otherworld are you talking about?”
Lester looks at you intently. You can practically see the frantic thoughts running through his mind, and his brow seems to furrow further and further.
“I think…” he begins slowly, letting the words settle in the silence between you, “that there is someone in this castle who looks exactly like you.”
A shock runs through you as if you’d been struck by lightning. Someone that looks identical to you - whatever that means, it can’t be good. What <i>does</i> that mean?
You must have looked quite baffled to Lester, staring into the empty space before you, but your mind is rapidly examining every possibility. Is it the original child of the Grahm family that had been taken? Is it another changeling? Or is someone using magic to conjure an illusion or a disguise?
All three of these options have the potential to be disastrous.
“Where did you see this lookalike?” you ask Lester with an appropriate amount of desperation. If they were walking around looking like you, who knows what they might be up to. Exposing your secret, killing Az’Lean, and everything in between.
“Just over there, they were heading to the library,” Lester explains. He looks uncertain. “Do you think it’s an impostor? Someone who infiltrated the castle?”
“That’s a strong possibility,” you say while trying to stay calm.
Lester nods grimly. “Then what do we do about this?”
[[“We have to follow them to the library before we lose their trail.”|Chapter5.5A]]
[[“We have to get back to Az’Lean immediately. If it’s someone that looks like me, they might use that to get close to him.”|Chapter5.5B]]“Right, no time to lose. Good thing you’re already geared up,” Lester says and begins sprinting off towards the stairs that lead to the library.
You push past him, taking the lead. Your dominant hand comes to rest on <<if $element == "fire">>the grip of your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">> the hilt of your spear on your back <<endif>><<if $element == "air">> one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">> the hilt of your sword<<endif>>. “It’s best if you stay behind me.”
“That is absolutely fine by me.”
Within seconds, you and Lester enter the library. You slow down a bit as you do so, trying not to cause a scene. From the entrance, you let your gaze wander, trying to spot any signs of your particular shade of $haircolor hair.
The fact that you’ve entered the library while armed hasn’t escaped notice, and a few curious looks are thrown your way. You ponder how to approach this for a moment. Your highest priority should be not letting the impostor escape.
You approach a group of scholars. “Excuse me. A suspicious individual was seen heading here. Could you make sure no one leaves through this exit while we’re looking around?”
Looks of fear pass over the scholars’ faces, but they nod. “Certainly, Champion Grahm.”
“Must be nice, having a title that just gets people to cooperate with you,” Lester comments drily.
“That’s how a chain of command works, yes,” you say as you return to your search.
Methodically, you and Lester march through the aisles of the library. You look for a glint of $eyes eyes, someone of $height height, or $hairstyle $haircolor hair. A mirror leaning in a corner trips you up at some point, but aside from that your search remains fruitless.
“Do you think they’re hiding somewhere? Or maybe they went up into the magic lab?” Lester wonders aloud as he peers beneath one of the many tables.
“This isn’t good,” you say, slowly becoming frustrated. “They could be anywhere, realistically.”
“They could be anyone,” Lester adds pointedly. “If they are able to copy your appearance, they might be able to copy someone else's as well.”
You begin pacing back and forth, still on the lookout. “Then how are we supposed to find them? Should we inform Az’Lean? Or alert the knights?”
Lester chews on his bottom lip. “I was going to say you should try and calm down, $playername, but I’m starting to think your worry might be justified.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, why would someone disguise themselves as you? I think we can’t rule out that they’re after our dear Princeling. There are always rumours going around about planned assassinations. So far none of them have been true.” Lester turns more serious than you have ever seen him. “But where there’s smoke, there’s fire. There might be truth to rumours like that after all.”
“We can’t afford not to assume it is indeed a worst case scenario,” you say, gritting your teeth. “Let’s split up. I’ll return to Az’Lean, you’ll alert the guards and knights. I’d rather set off a false alarm than not.”
“You are putting a lot of trust in my witness account. What if I’m wrong about seeing someone that looks like you?” Lester asks as you rush out of the library.
You quicken your pace to the point that Lester can barely keep up with you. “Like I said, I’m not taking any chances. What I’m more surprised about is the fact that you care about Az’Lean. I thought you hated him.”
“I do. Doesn’t mean I want him dead,” Lester says with a shrug. “Hopefully the knights will believe me as well.”
“They better,” you growl. “Good luck, Lester.”
[[“Good luck, Champ. And hurry.”|Chapter5.6A]]“Right, no time to lose. Good thing you’re already geared up,” Lester says. “Lead the way.”
You push past him, sprinting back towards the stairs leading down. Your dominant hand comes to rest on <<if $element == "fire">>the grip of your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">> the hilt of your spear on your back <<endif>><<if $element == "air">> one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">> the hilt of your sword<<endif>>. “It’s best if you stay behind me. Just in case they show up.”
“That is absolutely fine by me.”
It doesn’t take long for you to leave the castle and return to the training grounds. You slow down a bit, both so Lester can catch up and as to not cause a scene. From the entrance, you let your gaze wander, trying to spot Az’Lean. The targets you set up are still there, but you cannot see the prince anywhere.
“Where is he?” Lester asks between a few gasping breaths, holding his side.
“Maybe in the armoury?” You feel dread starting to creep up as you make your way towards it. A few curious looks are thrown your way and the feeling worsens.
You decide to approach a group of knights. “Excuse me. Has anyone seen where the prince went?”
Looks of confusion pass over their faces. “Wasn’t he with you? Just a second ago?”
“Are you being literal when you say a second?” Lester chimes in. “You’re certain he was with the Champion?”
The knights exchange worried glances. “It’s not like I was counting the seconds, but yes. I thought you two just left together. Did something happen?”
It feels like something is squeezing the air out of your lungs. “That wasn’t me. Someone impersonated me.”
The knights immediately shift into attack stances, their eyes growing cold and serious. “We’ll sound the alarm and get a search going. Champion, they can’t have gotten far.”
“Right,” you say, quickly running a hand over your face to centre yourself. “We might not have a lot of time. If they are with Az’Lean, this is…”
“Possibly an assassination attempt,” Lester finishes grimly. “What should I do, $playername?”
The two of you start running back towards the castle.
“We can’t afford not to assume it is indeed a worst case scenario,” you say, gritting your teeth. “Let’s split up. Try to think of places Az’Lean might go if he thought I was with him.”
“I’m surprised you trust me enough to let me run off on my own,” Lester says.
You quicken your pace to the point that Lester can barely keep up with you. “You were the one who warned me in the first place. What <i>I’m</i> surprised about is the fact that <i>you</i> care about Az’Lean. I thought you hated him.”
“I do. Doesn’t mean I want him dead,” Lester says with a shrug. “Let’s hope the knights are swift in sounding the alarm.”
“They better be,” you growl. “Good luck, Lester.”
[[“Good luck, Champ. And hurry.”|Chapter5.6B]]You and Lester split up. As soon as you're alone, you can’t help but submit to the thoughts that plague you.
Could this really be an assassin sent to impersonate you and take Az’Lean’s life? If that is the case, would it be wrong to assume that they are another changeling? One of your kind?
<<if $Maeve > 30>> You figure Maeve would have told you if she knew of another changeling being sent to the castle. This might mean that whoever they are, they are acting independently, or at least not as part of Maeve’s Court. You cannot know their intentions by that alone, but you can’t imagine they are beneficial to Az’Lean.
<<else>> Would Maeve have told you about another changeling being sent to the castle? Who knows. They might be working with her, or they might be acting independently. Whatever their intentions may be though, you doubt they are beneficial to Az’Lean.
<<endif>>\
If they are not a changeling, the next most likely possibility is that they are the biological child of Sir and Lady Grahm. Would they even still be alive? You dread to think about what might have happened to them. You have no idea why they would show up now, but you can’t rule it out. In that case, they might not be here to harm Az’Lean. They might be here to harm <i>you</i>.
Of course, Lester might simply be seeing things. Or trying to deceive you, though that would be the most surprising outcome out of all of them. He seemed to be confident in what he saw.
Whoever this impostor is, they are either here for Az’Lean or for you. You don’t think that’s too much of a stretch.
<<if $humanity > 75>> If they are a changeling sent to kill Az’Lean, you’ll have to get rid of them. Even if they are the biological Grahm child, they were taken by fae as an infant. They might be on their side at this point. You must be ready for anything.<<endif>>\
<<if $humanity < 25>> If they are a changeling, this might actually be an opportunity to talk to them. It is your job to protect Az’Lean, of course, but can you fault a changeling just for being here? That would make you a hypocrite. This might not necessarily lead to a fight. If they are the biological Grahm child, they were taken by fae as an infant. They might resent you, yes, but they might also provide a wealth of information. In any case, you shouldn’t attack them recklessly.<<endif>>\
All of your thoughts come to a screeching halt as you pass by the door to your chambers. It is closed, just like you left it, but there is something off about it. The door handle is just the tiniest bit crooked. Did you leave it like that?
You aren’t certain.
[[Check in your chambers.|Chapter 5.7AA]]
[[Keep going.|Chapter5.7AB]]You and Lester split up. As soon as you're alone, you can’t help but submit to the thoughts that plague you.
Could this really be an assassin sent to impersonate you and take Az’Lean’s life? If that is the case, would it be wrong to assume that they are another changeling? One of your kind?
<<if $Maeve > 30>> You figure Maeve would have told you if she knew of another changeling being sent to the castle. This might mean that whoever they are, they are acting independently, or at least not as part of Maeve’s Court. You cannot know their intentions by that alone, but you can’t imagine they are beneficial to Az’Lean.
<<else>> Would Maeve have told you about another changeling being sent to the castle? Who knows. They might be working with her, or they might be acting independently. Whatever their intentions may be though, you doubt they are beneficial to Az’Lean.
<<endif>>\
If they are not a changeling, the next most likely possibility is that they are the biological child of Sir and Lady Grahm. Would they even still be alive? You dread to think about what might have happened to them. You have no idea why they would show up now, but you can’t rule it out. In that case, they might not be here to harm Az’Lean. They might be here to harm <i>you</i>.
Of course, this could be some kind of huge misunderstanding, though that would be the most surprising outcome out of all of them. It isn’t just Lester who saw this lookalike, but the knights on the training grounds as well.
Whoever this impostor is, they are either here for Az’Lean or for you. You don’t think that’s too much of a stretch.
<<if $humanity > 75>> If they are a changeling sent to kill Az’Lean, you’ll have to get rid of them. Even if they are the biological Grahm child, they were taken by fae as an infant. They might be on their side at this point. You must be ready for anything.<<endif>>\
<<if $humanity < 25>> If they are a changeling, this might actually be an opportunity to talk to them. It is your job to protect Az’Lean, of course, but can you fault a changeling just for being here? That would make you a hypocrite. This might not necessarily lead to a fight. If they are the biological Grahm child, they were taken by fae as an infant. They might resent you, yes, but they might also provide a wealth of information. In any case, you shouldn’t attack them recklessly.<<endif>>\
Those thoughts accompany you with every hurried step back towards the castle. Your first instinct is to go and check Az’Lean’s chambers. However, wouldn’t Az’Lean and the impostor have passed you and Lester and your way outside if that’s where they were heading?
But where else would they go?
[[You decide to go and check Az’Lean’s chamber, for now.|Chapter5.7]]You take two stairs at a time as you run back up to Az’Lean’s chambers, breathing heavily as you come to a halt in front of his door. He had told you to always knock before coming in, so you waste no time in banging your fist against it.
There’s noises coming from the other side of the door. Your heart skips a beat as you come to terms with the fact that <i>someone</i> is in there. With a deep breath you wait for the door to open, grabbing a tight hold of your weapon just in case.
After a few seconds, the wooden door slides open. It isn’t Az’Lean’s face you see peeking through the gap.
A pair of $eyes eyes are glinting in the darkness of Az’Lean’s chambers, and you recognize your own face staring back at you with clarity. It is identical to you, down to the last detail. The impostor is even wearing one of your armour sets - you might as well be staring into a mirror. Only one thing doesn’t match: they don’t have your <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>>, merely a common shortsword.
The impostor doesn’t seem surprised to see you, and instantly tries to slam the door in your face. You barely managed to get your foot in the door and push against it with all your weight.
“Az’Lean, that isn’t me!” you call out, wrestling with the impostor over the door. Naturally, you are equally matched in terms of strength.
The impostor quickly changes strategy and throws themselves on <i>you</i> instead of the door. The two of you tumble out into the corridor, and the door falls closed behind you. Instantly they are upon you, trying to knock the <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> out of your hands.
“Who are you?” you ask while fending them off. “What are you trying to accomplish?”
The impostor simply sneers at you. They don’t seem willing to talk. It strikes you how intimidating they look, and you wonder whether this is how you come across to other people as well.
The door opens once more and Az’Lean steps out, armoured and armed with his gauntlet and sword. He stares down at the two of you with utter bafflement, but it quickly turns into dark, vicious hatred. It makes your skin crawl when he directs it at you.
The impostor stares up at him with wide eyes. “Az’Lean! Help me finish this impostor off,” they say in your voice, laden with emotion you can easily identify as fake. Az’Lean, however, seems conflicted.
There must be a way to convince him that you are the real $playername Grahm. <i>After all, that’s what you do on a daily basis.</i>
[[You believe in your bond with him. “Az’Lean, I’m the real one,” you simply say.|Chapter5.8BA]]
[[Start talking about what you know about him.|Chapter5.8BB]]
[[Start talking about what he knows about you.|Chapter5.8BC]]
[[Start describing what happened in Westwale territory.|Chapter5.8BD]]
[[“I- I-” The words elude you. Start panicking.|Chapter5.8BE]]You don’t really have time to waste, so you keep running past your chambers. Just when you reach the stairs that lead back down to the ground floor, an unsettling shiver runs down your spine and you halt for a moment. Before you can figure out what made you pause, you are suddenly plunged into absolute darkness.
You can’t see a thing, not the floor, not your hands, not the spiral staircase in front of you. It is as if all light had been snuffed out, even the sun - clearly this must be some powerful magic. Your heart starts beating in nervous anticipation.
Sight isn’t the only sense you possess, however. You can hear a door opening somewhere behind you, followed by a pair of footsteps. A pair of footsteps that sounds both familiar and odd.
It is a good thing that you are familiar with your surroundings, and you have the foresight to quickly move away from the stairs before you end up falling down them in your blindness. You move towards the wall and press your back against it, straining your ears to locate the footsteps more clearly. That damn carpet is doing a good job at obfuscating them.
With a deep breath, you try to keep your calm. You cannot afford to make any mistakes right now.
<<if $element == "air">> You hold both of your daggers out in front of you, ready to start slicing away should you hear anything coming closer. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "fire">> You hold your rapier out in front of you, ready to start stabbing away should you hear anything come near you. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You hold your sword and shield out in front of you, ready to block any incoming attacks and strike back. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You hold your spear out in front of you, ready to start stabbing should you hear anything come near you. <<endif>>\
It sounds like the footsteps are moving towards you at a rapid pace.
[[Demand to know who’s there.|Chapter5.8ABA]]
[[You can’t afford to talk right now, you need to listen.|Chapter5.8ABB]]“Who are you?” you call out into the darkness. The only answer you receive is something scraping along the floorboards. It is a difficult noise to place, but you gather that it can’t mean anything good.
Purely on instinct, you throw yourself to the side, only narrowly escaping something heavy that crashes against the wall where your head had just been. Whatever it is splinters, and you can hear the impostor breathing heavily.
It seems they have no intention to talk to you, at least not willingly. You’ll have to get out of this darkness spell somehow, before they choose a more deadly type of attack than throwing your chair, presumably, at you.
You scramble to your feet and sprint for the door, hoping that the darkness spell is contained within your room. Just as you’re about to cross the threshold, you can hear the impostor walk up behind you.
<<if $element == "fire">> You use your rapier to take a stab behind you, hoping to at least deter the impostor if not hit them. The tip of your rapier gets caught on something, fabric by the way it snags and rustles, and you yank it back towards you. The impostor gasps, though you don’t know if you managed to draw blood or not. Either way, you manage to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You strike out with your spear behind you, hoping to hit the impostor with the hilt of it at least. Your spear bounces off of something, likely armour or some object the impostor is holding. They gasp, though you don’t know whether you actually did any damage or not. Either way, you managed to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You strike out backwards with your shield, hoping to hit the impostor or force them away from you at least. Your shield collides with something solid, likely armour or some object the impostor is holding. They gasp, though you don’t know whether you actually did any damage or not. Either way, you managed to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>You use one of your daggers to take a stab behind you, hoping to at least deter the impostor if not hit them. The tip of your dagger gets caught on something, fabric by the way it snags and rustles, and you yank it back towards you. The impostor gasps, though you don’t know if you managed to draw blood or not. Either way, you manage to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
It takes a second for your eyes to adjust, but it happens just in time to see the impostor brandish a knife - one of your utility knives, not really something that holds up in combat. Now that you’re looking at them, you notice that they are wearing some of your clothes. You can tell by the way the hem is frayed in only certain places, by the wrinkles as a result of how you folded them last, by the way they fit your, their, body.
When did they steal from you? Just now? Is that why they were in your room?
“Who are you? And what do you want?” you ask again, ready to go on the offensive should they try and use magic again.
The impostor stands up a little straighter, and you can’t help but think how intimidating they look. Is that what you look like to other people?
“I suppose you could call me your replacement,” they say. It’s your voice, just a little rougher and scratchier. “That means I need to get rid of you.”
You glance at the knife in their hands. Surely if they had come to assassinate you, they would have brought their own weapon? Something doesn’t seem right.
“Who sent you?” you ask.
The impostor looks at you with something like pity, before using their left index finger to point up. At the ceiling? The sky?
[[You don’t get time to contemplate their gesture, as they rush forward, knife held out in front of them.|Chapter5.9]]You listen closely, trying to soften your own breathing as much as possible. It is completely silent, but not for long. You hear shuffling, and something scraping along the floorboards. Furniture being moved? It is a difficult noise to place, but you gather that it can’t mean anything good.
Using your hearing to estimate where the sound is coming from, you throw yourself to the side, only narrowly escaping something heavy that crashes against the wall where your head had just been. Whatever it is splinters, and you can hear the impostor breathing heavily.
It seems they have no intention to talk to you, at least not willingly. You’ll have to get out of this darkness spell somehow, before they choose a more deadly type of attack than throwing your chair, presumably, at you.
You scramble to your feet and sprint for the door, hoping that the darkness spell is contained within your room. Just as you’re about to cross the threshold, you can hear the impostor walk up behind you.
<<if $element == "fire">> You use your rapier to take a stab behind you, hoping to at least deter the impostor if not hit them. The tip of your rapier gets caught on something, fabric by the way it snags and rustles, and you yank it back towards you. The impostor gasps, though you don’t know if you managed to draw blood or not. Either way, you manage to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You strike out with your spear behind you, hoping to hit the impostor with the hilt of it at least. Your spear bounces off of something, likely armour or some object the impostor is holding. They gasp, though you don’t know whether you actually did any damage or not. Either way, you managed to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You strike out backwards with your shield, hoping to hit the impostor or force them away from you at least. Your shield collides with something solid, likely armour or some object the impostor is holding. They gasp, though you don’t know whether you actually did any damage or not. Either way, you managed to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>You use one of your daggers to take a stab behind you, hoping to at least deter the impostor if not hit them. The tip of your dagger gets caught on something, fabric by the way it snags and rustles, and you yank it back towards you. The impostor gasps, though you don’t know if you managed to draw blood or not. Either way, you manage to stumble out of your room into the corridor, and the darkness lifts once you are a bit further along.<<endif>>\
It takes a second for your eyes to adjust, but it happens just in time to see the impostor brandish a knife - one of your utility knives, not really something that holds up in combat. Now that you’re looking at them, you notice that they are wearing some of your clothes. You can tell by the way the hem is frayed in only certain places, by the wrinkles as a result of how you folded them last, by the way they fit your, their, body.
When did they steal from you? Just now? Is that why they were in your room?
“Who are you? And what do you want?” you finally ask, ready to go on the offensive should they try and use magic again.
The impostor stands up a little straighter, and you can’t help but think how intimidating they look. Is that what you look like to other people?
“I suppose you could call me your replacement,” they say. It’s your voice, just a little rougher and scratchier. “That means I need to get rid of you.”
You glance at the knife in their hands. Surely if they had come to assassinate you, they would have brought their own weapon? Something doesn’t seem right.
“Who sent you?” you ask.
The impostor looks at you with something like pity, before using their left index finger to point up. At the ceiling? The sky?
[[You don’t get time to contemplate their gesture, as they rush forward, knife held out in front of them.|Chapter5.9]]“Who are you?” you call out into the darkness. The only answer you receive is more footsteps along the corridor, and they are clearly heading towards you. Whoever this person is, you can hear them taking a steadying breath. Almost as if they were preparing for something.
Purely on instinct you jump to the side, just moments before something heavy collides with the wall where your head had just been. Did they throw something at you? Whoever this person is, they seem to prefer attacking you over talking. You’ll have to get out of this darkness spell somehow, before they choose a more deadly type of attack.
Rushing towards the stairs could end badly, so you have no choice but to rush towards the attacker instead. They wouldn’t cast the darkness spell around themselves, would they? Maybe if you get closer to them, you’ll be able to see.
<<if $element == "fire">>You hold up your rapier threateningly and advance. Every once in a while you take a random stab at the air, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>You hold out your spear in front of you and advance. Every once in a while you take a random stab at the air, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>You hold out your sword and shield in front of you and advance. Every once in a while you take a random stab at the air with your sword, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>You hold out your daggers in front of you and advance. Every once in a while you start randomly slicing through the air, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
After a few steps, the darkness suddenly lifts. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust and a few more to process what you are seeing. Someone who looks exactly like you is standing a few paces away from you. Their $eyes eyes are glinting with a kind of vicious hatred you have never seen from your own eyes. They have the same $hairstyle $haircolor hair as you, the same face, the same stature - they are even wearing some of your clothes. You can tell by the way the hem is frayed in only certain places, by the wrinkles as a result of how you folded them last, by the way they fit your, their, body.
When did they steal from you? Just now? Were they in your room?
The impostor takes a step towards you, brandishing a knife - one of your utility knives, not really something that holds up in combat.
“Who are you? And what do you want?” you try asking again, ready to go on the offensive should they try and use magic again.
The impostor stands up a little straighter, and you can’t help but think how intimidating they look. Is that what you look like to other people?
“I suppose you could call me your replacement,” they say. It’s your voice, just a little rougher and scratchier. “That means I need to get rid of you.”
You glance at the knife in their hands. Surely if they had come to assassinate you, they would have brought their own weapon? Something doesn’t seem right.
“Who sent you?” you ask.
The impostor looks at you with something like pity, before using their left index finger to point up. At the ceiling? The sky?
[[You don’t get time to contemplate their gesture, as they rush forward, knife held out in front of them.|Chapter5.9]]You listen closely, trying to soften your own breathing as much as possible. The footsteps are continuing along the corridor, and they are clearly heading towards you. Whoever this person is, you can hear them taking a steadying breath. Almost as if they were preparing for something.
Purely on instinct you jump to the side, just moments before something heavy collides with the wall where your head had just been. Did they throw something at you? Whoever this person is, they seem to prefer attacking you over talking. You’ll have to get out of this darkness spell somehow, before they choose a more deadly type of attack.
Rushing towards the stairs could end badly, so you have no choice but to rush towards the attacker instead. They wouldn’t cast the darkness spell around themselves, would they? Maybe if you get closer to them, you’ll be able to see.
<<if $element == "fire">>You hold up your rapier threateningly and advance. Every once in a while you take a random stab at the air, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>You hold out your spear in front of you and advance. Every once in a while you take a random stab at the air, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>You hold out your sword and shield in front of you and advance. Every once in a while you take a random stab at the air with your sword, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>You hold out your daggers in front of you and advance. Every once in a while you start randomly slicing through the air, hoping to at least deter the attacker from approaching you.<<endif>>\
After a few steps, the darkness suddenly lifts. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust and a few more to process what you are seeing. Someone who looks exactly like you is standing a few paces away from you. Their $eyes eyes are glinting with a kind of vicious hatred you have never seen from your own eyes. They have the same $hairstyle $haircolor hair as you, the same face, the same stature - they are even wearing some of your clothes. You can tell by the way the hem is frayed in only certain places, by the wrinkles as a result of how you folded them last, by the way they fit your, their, body.
When did they steal from you? Just now? Were they in your room?
The impostor takes a step towards you, brandishing a knife - one of your utility knives, not really something that holds up in combat.
“Who are you? And what do you want?” you finally ask, ready to go on the offensive should they try and use magic again.
The impostor stands up a little straighter, and you can’t help but think how intimidating they look. Is that what you look like to other people?
“I suppose you could call me your replacement,” they say. It’s your voice, just a little rougher and scratchier. “That means I need to get rid of you.”
You glance at the knife in their hands. Surely if they had come to assassinate you, they would have brought their own weapon? Something doesn’t seem right.
“Who sent you?” you ask.
The impostor looks at you with something like pity, before using their left index finger to point up. At the ceiling? The sky?
[[You don’t get time to contemplate their gesture, as they rush forward, knife held out in front of them.|Chapter5.9]]While he does seem moved by your words, the shadow of doubt doesn’t leave his eyes. You stare deeply into them, while the impostor does the same. His gaze flickers back and forth, trying to see the truth.
<<if $Az > 59>> “$playername?” he asks you tentatively, and you nod immediately. There seems to be a spark of recognition in his eyes. <<endif>>\
<<if $lie < 2>> Az’Lean studies your expression for a moment. Whatever he finds there seems to offer him some relief. <<endif>>\
“What’s going on here?” Az’Lean asks. He is still suspicious and ready to attack at any moment, but the fact that he addresses you with his question is a good sign.
The impostor seems to come to that conclusion as well, and they don’t grant you the luxury of answering. Before you can even open your mouth to respond, they suddenly throw themselves at you, trying to wrestle the <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> out of your hands.
You do your best to hold them off, but it isn’t easy. While your physical strength is identical, the impostor is fuelled by hatred in a way you can’t even comprehend. It is your face they wear, but you feel like you can get a glance at the person beneath it - a person who is set on doing what they came here for or dying in the process.
Az’Lean tries to intervene and get between you, but quickly gives up. Whether it is because he still isn’t sure who the real one is, or because he doesn’t trust either of you, you don’t know.
The impostor manages to disarm you, but not before you land a devastating attack that leaves them reeling. You scramble for <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>your spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>your sword<<endif>>, but Az'Lean quickly kicks it away from you. It's clear he wants you to stop fighting, but you could really use a weapon right now. The impostor's short sword will have to do.
After a bit of scuffling on the ground, the impostor manages to scratch your face with their gauntlets - the sting of iron in the open wound almost makes you cry out but you restrain yourself - but you manage to pry the sword out of their hands in turn.
[[You hold it threateningly out in front of you, and the impostor stills.|Chapter5.9B]]“The name of your horse is Tàhm,” you call out quickly, and Az’Lean’s attention rests fully on you. “You like your bed’s silk canopy because looking up at it feels like flying. You didn’t originally want to have a Champion. You’ve known Thianne for a few years now and trust her. You don’t trust Lester. When we first met, during my squire initiation, Vynn told you I almost died to the everboar. They were lying and I told you what really happened.”
As you rush through every random thing that comes to mind, you notice the sparks of recognition in his eyes. Still, a shadow of doubt lingers.
“What’s going on here?” Az’Lean asks. He is still suspicious and ready to attack at any moment, but the fact that he addresses you with his question is a good sign.
The impostor seems to come to that conclusion as well, and they don’t grant you the luxury of answering. Before you can even open your mouth to respond, they suddenly throw themselves at you, trying to wrestle the <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> out of your hands.
You do your best to hold them off, but it isn’t easy. While your physical strength is identical, the impostor is fuelled by hatred in a way you can’t even comprehend. It is your face they wear, but you feel like you can get a glance at the person beneath it - a person who is set on doing what they came here for or dying in the process.
Az’Lean tries to intervene and get between you, but quickly gives up. Whether it is because he still isn’t sure who the real one is, or because he doesn’t trust either of you, you don’t know.
The impostor manages to disarm you, but not before you land a devastating attack that leaves them reeling. You scramble for <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>your spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>your sword<<endif>>, but Az'Lean quickly kicks it away from you. It's clear he wants you to stop fighting, but you could really use a weapon right now. The impostor's short sword will have to do.
After a bit of scuffling on the ground, the impostor manages to scratch your face with their gauntlets - the sting of iron in the open wound almost makes you cry out but you restrain yourself - but you manage to pry the sword out of their hands in turn.
[[You hold it threateningly out in front of you, and the impostor stills.|Chapter5.9B]]<<if $hobby == "reading">>”We went to the library yesterday, and I recommended you a mystery novel,” you call out quickly, and Az’Lean’s attention rests fully on you.<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "chess">>”We played chess yesterday, and Vynn was acting as our commentator,” you call out quickly, and Az’Lean’s attention rests fully on you.<<endif>>\
<<if $hobby == "animals">>”We went to the stables yesterday, and Lester accompanied us for some reason,” you call out quickly, and Az’Lean’s attention rests fully on you.<<endif>>\
“It’s always been my dream to become your Champion. At first you didn’t want to have a Champion at all, but I convinced you. I said: ‘Let’s just agree to have each other’s backs.’ I sit to your right during council meetings, and we had to get an extra chair in there for me because I refused to wait outside.”
As you rush through every random thing that comes to mind, you notice the sparks of recognition in his eyes. Still, a shadow of doubt lingers.
“What’s going on here?” Az’Lean asks. He is still suspicious and ready to attack at any moment, but the fact that he addresses you with his question is a good sign.
The impostor seems to come to that conclusion as well, and they don’t grant you the luxury of answering. Before you can even open your mouth to respond, they suddenly throw themselves at you, trying to wrestle the <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> out of your hands.
You do your best to hold them off, but it isn’t easy. While your physical strength is identical, the impostor is fuelled by hatred in a way you can’t even comprehend. It is your face they wear, but you feel like you can get a glance at the person beneath it - a person who is set on doing what they came here for or dying in the process.
Az’Lean tries to intervene and get between you, but quickly gives up. Whether it is because he still isn’t sure who the real one is, or because he doesn’t trust either of you, you don’t know.
The impostor manages to disarm you, but not before you land a devastating attack that leaves them reeling. You scramble for <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>your spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>your sword<<endif>>, but Az'Lean quickly kicks it away from you. It's clear he wants you to stop fighting, but you could really use a weapon right now. The impostor's short sword will have to do.
After a bit of scuffling on the ground, the impostor manages to scratch your face with their gauntlets - the sting of iron in the open wound almost makes you cry out but you restrain yourself - but you manage to pry the sword out of their hands in turn.
[[You hold it threateningly out in front of you, and the impostor stills.|Chapter5.9B]]“When we went to Westwale territory, it was raining terribly. Vynn complained about it,” you call out quickly, and Az’Lean’s attention rests fully on you. “When we arrived at his estate, Lord Westwale invited us to eat while we discussed things. It was mutton stew. We left the next morning to investigate. It was a man named Devin that told us about the attacks. His leg had been hit by a fireball. We tested the barrier on a pixie - red with dragonfly wings. Vynn volunteered to lure it over.”
As you rush through every random thing that comes to mind, you notice the sparks of recognition in his eyes. Still, a shadow of doubt lingers.
“What’s going on here?” Az’Lean asks. He is still suspicious and ready to attack at any moment, but the fact that he addresses you with his question is a good sign.
The impostor seems to come to that conclusion as well, and they don’t grant you the luxury of answering. Before you can even open your mouth to respond, they suddenly throw themselves at you, trying to wrestle the <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> out of your hands.
You do your best to hold them off, but it isn’t easy. While your physical strength is identical, the impostor is fuelled by hatred in a way you can’t even comprehend. It is your face they wear, but you feel like you can get a glance at the person beneath it - a person who is set on doing what they came here for or dying in the process.
Az’Lean tries to intervene and get between you, but quickly gives up. Whether it is because he still isn’t sure who the real one is, or because he doesn’t trust either of you, you don’t know.
The impostor manages to disarm you, but not before you land a devastating attack that leaves them reeling. You scramble for <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>your spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>your sword<<endif>>, but Az'Lean quickly kicks it away from you. It's clear he wants you to stop fighting, but you could really use a weapon right now. The impostor's short sword will have to do.
After a bit of scuffling on the ground, the impostor manages to scratch your face with their gauntlets - the sting of iron in the open wound almost makes you cry out but you restrain yourself - but you manage to pry the sword out of their hands in turn.
[[You hold it threateningly out in front of you, and the impostor stills.|Chapter5.9B]]Usually you’re good under pressure, but Az’Lean’s piercing, judging gaze leaves you rattled. The thought of saying something wrong is terrifying. Paralysing. It’s like the words turn to ash in your mouth and you’re left staring up at him with wide eyes while your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
The fact that the impostor is just as unable to speak up is your only saving grace.
“What’s going on here?” Az’Lean asks. His gaze flickers suspiciously between you two. He isn’t sure who to address. He expects answers, any sort of explanation at all, but you are unable to deliver. It’s like something is constricting your lungs, cutting off your voice no matter how hard you try to say something. Anything.
The impostor opens their mouth and is about to answer, but you know you can’t risk it. With as much force as you can muster you throw yourself at them. You might not be able to speak, but you won’t let them get away with impersonating you. You’ll simply have to convince Az’Lean of your identity by the way you fight. He should be able to recognise it.
As you tackle the impostor, they use the momentum to reverse your positions, trying to wrestle the <<if $element == "fire">>rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>sword and shield<<endif>> out of your hands.
You do your best to hold them off, but it isn’t easy. While your physical strength is identical, the impostor is fuelled by hatred in a way you can’t even comprehend. It is your face they wear, but you feel like you can get a glance at the person beneath it - a person who is set on doing what they came here for or dying in the process.
Az’Lean tries to intervene and get between you, but quickly gives up. Whether it is because he still isn’t sure who the real one is, or because he doesn’t trust either of you, you don’t know.
The impostor manages to disarm you, but not before you land a devastating attack that leaves them reeling. You scramble for <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>your spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>one of your daggers<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>your sword<<endif>>, but Az'Lean quickly kicks it away from you. It's clear he wants you to stop fighting, but you could really use a weapon right now. The impostor's short sword will have to do.
After a bit of scuffling on the ground, the impostor manages to scratch your face with their gauntlets - the sting of iron in the open wound almost makes you cry out but you restrain yourself - but you manage to pry the sword out of their hands in turn.
[[You hold it threateningly out in front of you, and the impostor stills.|Chapter5.9B]]The impostor's knife clashes against <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>> <<if $element == "water">>the hilt of your spear<<endif>> <<if $element == "air">>your left dagger<<endif>> <<if $element == "earth">>your shield<<endif>>
and you manage to deflect it easily. From the force of the attack, you can surmise that the two of you are equally matched when it comes to strength, as is to be expected. Given that, as long as you can stop the impostor from casting any more powerful magic, you should have the clear upper hand with your superior weaponry.
"I am not opposed to mercy if you decide to yield," you say through gritted teeth as you <<if $element == "fire">>manage to land a hit on their shoulder, the tip of your rapier slipping through a gap in their armour.<<endif>>
<<if $element == "water">>use the pommel of your spear to hit them square in the stomach.<<endif>>
<<if $element == "air">>swipe one of your daggers across their cheek, not cutting deep but drawing a line of blood.<<endif>>
<<if $element == "earth">>bash your shield into their side, knocking the air out of their lungs.<<endif>>
They stagger backwards with a gasp, gripping the knife with both hands and readying another attack.
With a growl they rush forward, but you easily dodge out of the way and deliver a kick to the back of their legs as you do so. The impostor almost buckles, but manages to keep their footing and whirl around, rushing at you once more. You notice them mouthing something, likely another spell. You take a stab at them with the intent to stop them, but this time they manage to dodge.
Magic gathers around the impostor in a blinding light before exploding outward, pushing you away from them with such force that you slam into the wall behind you. Your head hits the stone with a worrying smack and for a moment, the intensity of the pain blinds your vision. To make matters worse, a loud, piercing noise reverberates throughout the hallway and it feels like your skull is about to split.
After a moment of disorientation you recognise it as the castle's alarm, alerting all guards and knights to the presence of a possible intruder. Lester managed to convince them to sound it.
The noise seems to startle the impostor, and they let up their attack in favour of covering their ears. You use this opportunity to gather yourself and run a hand across the back of your head. It comes away slick with blood, but there doesn't seem to be a large amount of it. Still, you'll need to take care of it once this is over.
With all your strength, you go on the offensive. Distracted as they are, it's not difficult to knock the knife out of their hands <<if $element == "fire">>by hitting it with the pommel of your rapier.<<endif>> <<if $element == "water">>by hitting it with the hilt of your spear.<<endif>> <<if $element == "air">>by crossing your daggers and getting it caught in between.<<endif>> <<if $element == "earth">>by bashing your shield against it with full force.<<endif>>
The knife clatters to the ground and you swiftly kick it out of the way. The impostor is entirely at your mercy, and they recognise it. Like a cornered animal, they press their back against the wall and glare at you. It isn't fear that shines in their eyes, only pure, unadulterated hatred.
"Let me ask you again: who are you?"
Despite the position they're in, they don't answer. Instead, you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Dozens of footsteps. You aren't careless enough to let the impostor out of your sight, but from the corner of your eyes, you still try to see who is approaching.
Lester leads the group, followed closely by Az'Lean, Thianne, Vynn, and a lot of other knights and guards. A small battalion has come to your aid, not that you need it.
[[You can hear them talking, confused and aghast at the sight of two of you.|Chapter5.10]]The impostor is frozen as you calmly bring the blade to rest against their neck. You can hear Az'Lean slowly approaching until he is standing next to you, looking at the two of you still kneeling on the ground.
"Answers. Now," Az'Lean demands, his voice harsh and void of patience. He still doesn't seem entirely certain who to address.
"This is an impostor," you say with confidence, hoping he'll believe you. "Tell me what to do to prove it."
Just as Az'Lean is about to answer, a loud, piercing noise reverberates throughout the hallway and it feels like your skull is about to split. After a moment of disorientation you recognise it as the castle's alarm, alerting all guards and knights to the presence of a possible intruder.
The noise seems to startle the impostor, and they press their hands against their ears. It isn't fear that shines in their eyes, only pure, unadulterated hatred.
Az'Lean regards the impostor carefully. "The alarm..."
"I told the knights to sound it when you weren't at the training grounds anymore," you explain hastily.
"So the one that accompanied me here is an impostor?" Az'Lean asks.
"You're wrong, though I admit, I have no idea what's going on here either," the impostor says. Their performance is convincing, and the pleading look they give Az'Lean even almost elicits compassion from <i>you</i>.
Az'Lean scowls darkly. "Well, if both of you are claiming to be $playername, then you shouldn't be opposed to following my orders, correct?"
You both voice your agreement in unison, and it's beyond eerie.
"Good. Then stop fighting for the love of the Gods. Stand up and move away from each other. I need a moment to think..."
You comply, lowering the sword and taking a few steps away from the impostor. They move away as well, eyes fixed on you the entire time.
Az'Lean meanwhile seems to be thinking deeply. "Drop the sword," he commands. You do as he says, though not without some hesitation. He picks it up and throws it down the corridor, out of reach.
"I suppose I'll-" Az'Lean doesn't get to finish his sentence. Immediately, the impostor lunges forward, towards <<if $element == "fire">>your rapier<<endif>><<if $element == "water">>your spear<<endif>><<if $element == "air">>your dagger<<endif>><<if $element == "earth">>your sword<<endif>>. You're able to react in time, and both of you manage to grab it at once. You both tug at it, the pointy end coming dangerously close to your face at times, and get into a sort of stalemate. To your suprise, it's Az'Lean that grabs the impostor and yanks them backwards, leaving you with your weapon once more.
It seems Az'Lean has made up his mind. He pushes the impostor away from him, and you are quick to level your weapon at them once more.
"Who are you?" Az'Lean all but growls.
Despite the position they're in, they don't answer. Instead, you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Dozens of footsteps. You aren't careless enough to let the impostor out of your sight, but from the corner of your eyes you still try to see who is approaching.
Lester leads the group, followed closely by Thianne, Vynn, and a lot of other knights and guards. A small battalion has come to your aid, not that you need it.
[[You can hear them talking, confused and aghast at the sight of two of you.|Chapter5.10]]<<set $Az to $Az + 10>>\
It makes sense to seek out Az’Lean. He is just next door, he already offered to help you, and the two of you have gotten closer over these past two weeks. Even if he turns you away, you’ll know not to take it personally.
As you leave your room behind and make your way over to his, you remember what he said earlier, about making sure to prove that it’s really you. Now that you think about it, maybe he could use your company just as much as you can use his. There’s no shame in relying on each other after an encounter like the one you just had. A breach of the castle’s defences, a theft of identity, and an attempt on your lives isn’t something to just shrug off. Surely Az’Lean feels the same way.
You knock on his door and wait as patiently as you can with your heart still hammering away in your chest. Hopefully he’ll invite you in and let you sit down, otherwise you fear you might not be able to move from this spot again with how blurry your vision is starting to get. You try to focus on your breathing, but you can’t quite get it right.
The door finally opens, but just enough for one blue eye to be seen behind it.
“The, er, the roses are in full bloom today?” The words come out unsure, rushed and short of breath, but you’re pretty certain you said the correct code phrase.
“$playername,” Az’Lean says with something like relief and opens the door fully, “is everything alright?”
You shake your head. “Not really. Could I come in or am I bothering you?”
“Yes, of course, come in. I was just doing some alchemy, nothing important.”
As you step inside the prince’s chambers, you notice a bubbling cauldron on his desk. It emits puffs of violet smoke in certain intervals and fills the room with the scent of wet, fallen leaves. Az’Lean is quick to put a lid on it.
“I am just making some night-vision potions,” he explains with a strained smile and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, patting the space next to him.
He is inviting you to sit with him, you realise a bit belatedly and stumble over to him. As soon as you’re seated, you start to feel a little bit more grounded - Az’Lean’s warm, tangible presence next to you helps. It seems he has swapped his armour for more comfortable linen clothes, but there’s still a sword attached to his hip.
“So, what’s going on? Are you shaken up from the encounter with the changeling earlier?” he asks.
“Something like that. I just didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now and I’m feeling kind of…” you take your time searching for the right words, “anxious, and on edge. As if the adrenaline still hasn’t worn off, and my body isn’t keeping up with it.”
Az’Lean looks concerned, but not surprised. “Try focusing on your breathing. Once you have that under control, the rest of your body will follow. Is there anything I can do to help?”
You think about what you need right now, and what help he could provide.
[[“Could you just listen to my worries?” You’ll keep it vague, but will try to speak about your doubts and fears.|Chapter5Az2A]]
[[“Could you give me a hug?” Physical contact would help you.|Chapter5Az2B]]
[[“Could you tell me about a time you were anxious and how you handled it?” You want to be distracted from your own thoughts by listening to his.|Chapter5Az2C]]Az’Lean hums softly. “Of course I’ll listen. I’d be honoured to have you confide in me.”
His gaze is attentive and patient, and you immediately find yourself at a loss for words. How do you even begin without telling him the truth? How can you describe what seeing that changeling meant to you without implicating yourself?
It must seem obvious to Az’Lean that you’re stuck, unable to voice what you are feeling. He runs a hand through his hair, pensive.
“Maybe you could start by telling me about what happened today? After you left the training grounds, I mean. That is, if that is what you want to talk about. It might help to work through everything that’s happened, but I understand if it is too painful.” Az’Lean seems uncertain, but now that he has left it up to you, you have to say <i>something</i>.
“I left to get the special arrows from your chambers,” you start slowly, hoping that it might help to get your head straight. “On the way there, I ran into Lester. He told me he just saw me going in the opposite direction, and we quickly figured out that there was someone who looked just like me running around in the castle.”
Az’Lean listens attentively as you recount everything that happened afterwards.
“I was on edge the entire time, worrying about what they might do while looking like me. They might get me into trouble, they might try to get you to tell them important information, and most of all, they might attack you. The fact that they chose my appearance for this made it feel like…like my responsibility to stop them,” you say, only realising that it’s true once you say it. “Even if I weren’t the Champion, I’d still feel that way.”
“You’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” Az’Lean observes, though it isn’t judgemental.
“I never should have left you alone on the training grounds. If we had stayed together, it would have been much easier to out the impostor, I think. And we would have been in a lot less danger.” You know it’s the truth. Who knows what might have happened if it weren’t for Lester?
“That might be true, but that is also an unrealistic expectation. You know as well as I that you can’t be with me every hour of the day, and that we are always in danger, due to our positions.”
“You’re right of course. But I’m afraid of…doing the wrong thing.” A lot of what you’re feeling goes unsaid, but that right here is the crux of the problem, isn’t it? That festering doubt that tends to seep into every one of your thoughts, that taints every one of your actions.
Az’Lean looks at you. “I understand. And your feelings are perfectly valid. I think we’ll just have to try and work through this, day by day.” He thinks it’s just because this is all new for you, a new job with new responsibilities. But there is so much more going on that he can’t see. You wonder if he’d be this understanding if he knew.
Still, his kindness helps you feel less alone. “Thank you for listening to my ramblings and rantings. If you ever need someone to talk to, know that I’d be honoured to return the favour,” you say.
“I appreciate that, $playername. I think it’s easy to forget how taxing and downright perilous our positions are, and the kind of stress that puts on us. There’s only one prince and only one Champion, so no one else really understands. We shouldn’t hesitate to rely on each other.”
“Right you are. Our situations are certainly…unique. Our lives are in danger just because of who we are, and I think I only just grasped the extent of it today. I can’t help but…worry about the future.” A new spike of anxiety shoots up your throat and you think you should probably stop talking, lest you say too much.
Az’Lean seems content to take over. “We’ll just have to do our best to prepare ourselves for any kind of threat. Whether that be from the outside, or the inside. Not everyone at court has our best interests at heart either.”
His voice lowers a bit, and when he continues, it almost sounds like he is whispering a quiet confession. “I have had trouble with trust and giving people the benefit of the doubt ever since my mother’s death. The only reason she died is because <i>someone</i> let those fae into the castle. So I can understand this feeling of paranoia, of constant anxiety. Trust still doesn’t come easy to me, for that exact reason, and today was just another instance to confirm my fears. That the changeling chose to impersonate you in particular is greatly upsetting, but I promise I will try my absolute best to not let it colour the way I see you.”
Your heart aches a little, for him and for yourself. “Right, it must have been a shock for you too.”
“Naturally. This will spell some sleepless nights, that much I know.” Az’Lean looks at you with such openness that it feels like a punch to your gut. He has never looked at you like this before. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t know if you agree, but it is almost a certain kind of solace, knowing that this is affecting you too, and that I’m not alone in this. Some people might find my wariness laughable, but it’s because they don’t understand the position I’m in as prince.”
“Your trust is worth a lot, so it should only be given out carefully. There…there must be a lot of people who are trying to use you.” The words feel leaden as they leave your mouth. Aren’t you the same as them? He shouldn’t trust you.
“I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to assume it’s the vast majority of people I meet, yes. You know I didn’t originally want to have a Champion. It’s for those reasons - I didn’t think there’d be anyone who wouldn’t try to use me, who I could trust. But you are quickly proving me wrong, $playername.”
There it is, his half-smile. An expression gated behind wariness that yet lingers, but still visible. He is starting to trust you, and you can only imagine this ending badly.
You clench your hands into fists, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Is- is that so?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to mistrust you so far. And that you came here today to ask for support, not afraid of being vulnerable… I figure it means you trust me as well.” Uncertainty flits through his sky blue eyes like a bird, circling - waiting, hopeful.
“I-”
You feel yourself disconnect from your body, as if you were very far removed from this moment, watching from the outside like a spectator. Time has slowed down to a crawl, and you observe the scene laid out before you. It is an impasse, and you need to do something, but what?
The risks are clear in your mind, but so is the desperation.
[[Maybe you should tell him the truth - about everything.|Chapter5Az3A]]
[[No, that is a terrible idea. You should change the subject.|Chapter5Az3B]]Az’Lean’s gaze turns impossibly soft as he hesitantly scoots towards you. “Of course I can, $playername. Everyone needs a hug sometimes, it’s no bother at all.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, glad that you didn’t overstep by asking for something that you really shouldn’t just ask a prince out of the blue - but no matter, it turned out fine.
“Thank you,” you say, and watch as he slowly turns towards you and opens his arms. It’s a little bit nerve wracking when you first make contact, and you worry that it’s going to just make your panic worse, but once his arms are fully wrapped around you, and your head rests on his shoulder, a sensation of calm washes over you.
His grip on you is light, yet warm and grounding. It feels like he’s shielding you from the world with his body, sapping the stress away from you and enveloping you in peace instead. His heartbeat is steady, almost hypnotic, and if you would let yourself go completely, you might just fall asleep in his arms. You’re still much too tense for that, and much too aware of propriety, but it is tempting.
Instead, you simply allow yourself to be. You start feeling better, your breathing evens out, your heart calms down, and your head stops spinning. You press your own hands against Az’Lean’s back and hope that the hug isn’t making him uncomfortable. If it is, he doesn’t say, doesn’t make any indication of it, and in truth doesn’t seem eager to end it himself.
When you finally pull apart again, he is smiling slightly, and you find yourself mirroring his expression in return. You feel safe now, and that’s that.
“I needed that,” you say, averting your gaze. It is a little awkward after all, now that you’re back to just sitting there and talking. “Thank you.”
“To be entirely truthful, I… I needed that as well. I didn’t even realise how much I needed that, in fact,” Az’Lean admits. He clears his throat. “So, if you ever need another hug, feel free to ask me again. In private, of course. You understand.”
“Yes, of course. I know something like this isn’t proper in the slightest. But I’m glad it helped you too. And if you ever need a hug, just ask. I’d be happy to return the favour,” you say. A part of you hopes he really does ask at some point.
“I appreciate that, $playername. I think it’s easy to forget how taxing and downright perilous our positions are, and the kind of stress that puts on us. There’s only one prince and only one Champion, so no one else really understands. We shouldn’t hesitate to rely on each other.”
“Right you are. Our situations are certainly…unique. Our lives are in danger just because of who we are, and I think I only just grasped the extent of it today. I can’t help but…worry about the future.” A new spike of anxiety shoots up your throat and you think you should probably stop talking, lest you say too much.
Az’Lean seems content to take over. “We’ll just have to do our best to prepare ourselves for any kind of threat. Whether that be from the outside, or the inside. Not everyone at court has our best interests at heart either.”
His voice lowers a bit, and when he continues, it almost sounds like he is whispering a quiet confession. “I have had trouble with trust and giving people the benefit of the doubt ever since my mother’s death. The only reason she died is because <i>someone</i> let those fae into the castle. So I can understand this feeling of paranoia, of constant anxiety. Trust still doesn’t come easy to me, for that exact reason, and today was just another instance to confirm my fears. That the changeling chose to impersonate you in particular is greatly upsetting, but I promise I will try my absolute best to not let it colour the way I see you.”
Your heart aches a little, for him and for yourself. “Right, it must have been a shock for you too.”
“Naturally. This will spell some sleepless nights, that much I know.” Az’Lean looks at you with such openness that it feels like a punch to your gut. He has never looked at you like this before. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t know if you agree, but it is almost a certain kind of solace, knowing that this is affecting you too, and that I’m not alone in this. Some people might find my wariness laughable, but it’s because they don’t understand the position I’m in as prince.”
“Your trust is worth a lot, so it should only be given out carefully. There…there must be a lot of people who are trying to use you.” The words feel leaden as they leave your mouth. Aren’t you the same as them? He shouldn’t trust you.
“I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to assume it’s the vast majority of people I meet, yes. You know I didn’t originally want to have a Champion. It’s for those reasons - I didn’t think there’d be anyone who wouldn’t try to use me, who I could trust. But you are quickly proving me wrong, $playername.”
There it is, his half-smile. An expression gated behind wariness that yet lingers, but still visible. He is starting to trust you, and you can only imagine this ending badly.
You clench your hands into fists, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Is- is that so?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to mistrust you so far. And that you came here today to ask for support, not afraid of being vulnerable… I figure it means you trust me as well.” Uncertainty flits through his sky blue eyes like a bird, circling - waiting, hopeful.
“I-”
You feel yourself disconnect from your body, as if you were very far removed from this moment, watching from the outside like a spectator. Time has slowed down to a crawl, and you observe the scene laid out before you. It is an impasse, and you need to do something, but what?
The risks are clear in your mind, but so is the desperation.
[[Maybe you should tell him the truth - about everything.|Chapter5Az3A]]
[[No, that is a terrible idea. You should change the subject.|Chapter5Az3B]]It takes him a few moments to come up with something to say, but Az’Lean seems fine with filling the silence by himself.
“Truth be told, I’m somewhat anxious every day. One such instance, where it was particularly bad, was a few years ago. I had done something unwise - I’d snuck out of the castle during the night to practise magic in secret. For anybody else, taking a nightly stroll through the city wouldn’t be a big deal, but I was quickly recognised and word spread fast among all manner of unsavoury types that I was on my own. It started off somewhat harmless - shady vendors trying to sell me overpriced junk, scammers trying to take advantage of the young, naive prince with pockets full of gold.” Az’Lean shakes his head, almost as if he remembers that moment fondly.
“When I proved to be more cunning than they thought, it didn’t take long to get worse. Threats of violence and extortion, attempted kidnappings, things like that. I managed to get away and find some guards, but I was terrified. For days and weeks after that, I didn’t want to go out, I couldn’t sleep, I saw a hidden criminal in everyone I knew. I’d randomly get bouts of panic, but my father wasn’t sympathetic to my plight. After all, it was my own fault for sneaking out at night, so I was right to feel terrible over it.”
“Then what did you do? What helped you?” you ask, entirely captivated by his story.
Az’Lean barks a laugh. “Now, this might sound stupid, but I snuck out again. People always tell you to face your fears, so that’s what I tried to do. I didn’t get far the first time before turning tail, but then I did it again, and again, and again. A large part of it was to spite my father, but once it became known that I tended to walk the streets at night, suddenly I wasn’t such an attractive target anymore. It certainly helped that I grew stronger, both in regards to combat and magic, as well as mentally.”
You nod slowly, taking in his words. “So you faced your fears, despite the danger, and grew stronger while you were at it.”
“Yes, but take that with a grain of salt. I was fuelled by spite towards my father. It was almost… self-destructive behaviour, in a way. It didn’t end up hurting me, but it might have, and I was fine with that. It helped me in the long run, but it wasn’t necessarily the smart thing to do. Thing is though, a lot of ways in which we cope aren’t healthy. But sometimes you have to do what you have to do to get through it. What I’m trying to get at is… if you’re feeling anxious right now, it is completely valid to feel that way, and if there is something you could do that would alleviate that feeling, then don’t worry too much about whether it’s the right thing to do for the future. Sometimes what matters more is right now.”
You take a moment to think about his words. They make sense, you suppose, though trying not to think about the future only serves to make you think about it more. What really did help you, though, was listening to his story and letting yourself be distracted - letting yourself not be the centre of your thoughts.
“Thank you for confiding in me. That must’ve been difficult to talk about,” you say, searching his face for signs of discomfort. You don’t end up finding any.
Az’Lean shakes his head. “It helped me, actually. I don’t usually have someone to share these kinds of thoughts and feelings with. I think it’s easy to forget how taxing and downright perilous our positions are, and the kind of stress that puts on us. There’s only one prince and only one Champion, so no one else really understands. We shouldn’t hesitate to rely on each other, $playername.”
“Right you are. Our situations are certainly… unique. Our lives are in danger just because of who we are, and I think I only just grasped the extent of it today. I can’t help but… worry about the future.” A new spike of anxiety shoots up your throat and you think you should probably stop talking, lest you say too much.
Az’Lean seems content to take over. “We’ll just have to do our best to prepare ourselves for any kind of threat. Whether that be from the outside, or the inside. Not everyone at court has our best interests at heart either.”
His voice lowers a bit, and when he continues, it almost sounds like he is whispering a quiet confession. “I have had trouble with trust and giving people the benefit of the doubt ever since my mother’s death. The only reason she died is because <i>someone</i> let those fae into the castle. So I can understand this feeling of paranoia, of constant anxiety. Trust still doesn’t come easy to me, for that exact reason, and today was just another instance to confirm my fears. That the changeling chose to impersonate you in particular is greatly upsetting, but I promise I will try my absolute best to not let it colour the way I see you.”
Your heart aches a little, for him and for yourself. “Right, it must have been a shock for you too.”
“Naturally. This will spell some sleepless nights, that much I know.” Az’Lean looks at you with such openness that it feels like a punch to your gut. He has never looked at you like this before. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t know if you agree, but it is almost a certain kind of solace, knowing that this is affecting you too, and that I’m not alone in this. Some people might find my wariness laughable, but it’s because they don’t understand the position I’m in as prince.”
“Your trust is worth a lot, so it should only be given out carefully. There…there must be a lot of people who are trying to use you.” The words feel leaden as they leave your mouth. Aren’t you the same as them? He shouldn’t trust you.
“I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to assume it’s the vast majority of people I meet, yes. You know I didn’t originally want to have a Champion. It’s for those reasons - I didn’t think there’d be anyone who wouldn’t try to use me, who I could trust. But you are quickly proving me wrong, $playername.”
There it is, his half-smile. An expression gated behind wariness that yet lingers, but still visible. He is starting to trust you, and you can only imagine this ending badly.
You clench your hands into fists, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Is- is that so?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to mistrust you so far. And that you came here today to ask for support, not afraid of being vulnerable… I figure it means you trust me as well.” Uncertainty flits through his sky blue eyes like a bird, circling - waiting, hopeful.
“I-”
You feel yourself disconnect from your body, as if you were very far removed from this moment, watching from the outside like a spectator. Time has slowed down to a crawl, and you observe the scene laid out before you. It is an impasse, and you need to do something, but what?
The risks are clear in your mind, but so is the desperation.
[[Maybe you should tell him the truth - about everything.|Chapter5Az3A]]
[[No, that is a terrible idea. You should change the subject.|Chapter5Az3B]]As the idea forms itself in your head, you immediately stop yourself. Even if you figure you need to come forward with the truth eventually, is today the day? Are you sure now is the right moment?
You try to imagine how Az’Lean might react.
On one hand, you do believe that he cares about you somewhat. That he values you. On the other hand, you know his grudge against the fae runs deep and strong. He said it himself - his trust isn’t easily given. Even if he rationally might understand that you were raised as a human and have no affiliation with the fae, he might not be able to see past that emotionally.
Telling him the truth is a risk. But continuing to lie might lead to him finding it out for himself, and that might just be the worst case scenario.
Is now really the time to tell him? Are you certain that it’s the right decision?
[[Yes. Tell him.|Chapter5AzTruth1]]
[[No. Don’t tell him.|Chapter5Az3B]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
You shouldn’t tell him, at least not right now. You are both somewhat emotional and vulnerable, and you don’t know how he would even take it. It is very possible that he would feel even more betrayed after what happened today, or he might think you are taking advantage of his kindness. Either way, it might be better to only tell him when you are both calm and able to think about this rationally.
If you want this to go over well - if you want him to understand, to trust you - then it is crucial that you do it at the right moment. Also, you should probably think about what to say and how to convince him ahead of time, instead of just blurting it out whenever. No, ending the conversation here is the right thing to do.
To cover up what you were about to say, you fake a drawn out yawn and blink at Az’Lean sleepily. “I think I should probably head back to my room,” you say. “I should get some sleep. But thank you again, for this. It really helped me alot.”
Az’Lean smiles softly. “Anytime, $playername. Sleep sounds good right about now. I’ll see you on Monday, at the latest.”
He pats you on the shoulder as you get up and accompanies you to the door. There is a certain look on his face that you find difficult to read, something bordering almost on relief.
“Oh, if you don’t mind, could you say the code phrase when we see each other next? Just as reassurance.” Az’Lean looks at you expectantly as he opens the door.
“How about this: I’ll say ‘The roses are in full bloom today’ and you respond with ‘But the sunflowers are still budding’? Then we can both be sure that we aren’t speaking to an impostor.”
Az’Lean seems delighted at your suggestion and nods. “That’s an excellent idea, $playername. I’ll make sure to remember it.”
“Good. Then I wish you a good night.”
“Today truly has been a lot. A good night to you as well, $playername.”
The way you part ways feels heartfelt enough, and when you return to your room, you feel a lot better than when you had left it. You have managed to return to your normal state of being by seeking support from Az’Lean, and you should be content with that, but truthfully, your normal state of being does not feel all that great. Dread and doubt still lingers, like a pit deep within your stomach, always threatening to grow and consume all these moments of reprieve and peace until none are left.
You managed to get through the day, but not much more. It might feel like you have grown closer to Az’Lean, but have you really? Or is it only a superficial bond based on lies?
It is almost with grim determination that you go to bed. You made the choice not to tell him, so you might as well be confident in it. Who knows how much worse everything could be if you had told him the truth?
There’s no point thinking about it, so you don’t.
[[The sun sets, the day ends, and your life continues.|Chapter5AzLie]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, so you could spend it lying about in bed without a problem, but yesterday’s events still linger in your mind. An idea occurs to you - a way to spend your day and hopefully get some more answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Today though might be the perfect opportunity - and possibly the only opportunity you’ll get for a while.
Leaving the castle and Az’Lean behind feels a bit like running away, but after the talk you had with him yesterday, this might actually do you both some good. You’ll be able to go and visit your parents, and he’ll be able to have a day for himself without worrying about whether you are an impostor or not. There will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father anyway. It should be fine to take a short trip like this - if you leave now you can easily be back by nightfall.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe you shouldn’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
With the decision made, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head over to Az’Lean’s room. You catch him just as he is leaving.
“The roses are in full bloom today,” you say by way of greeting.
“But the sunflowers are still budding,” he answers with a smile. “You look like you’re heading out, $playername. Got plans for today?”
“I’ll take a short trip to Grahm territory, just for today. With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit my parents again, so I thought I should do it while I can,” you explain. “As long as you don’t need me here today, that is.”
Az’Lean waves your concerns away. “I’ll be fine. I think you have the right idea to get out of here for a day, as long as you make sure you’re back by tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, that I can promise.”
“Then it’s all good. Besides, you’re right that we’ll be even busier from now on. Reinforcing the border, and now updating the castle’s security as well - we have our work cut out for us. Not to mention the Summer Solstice is coming up soon, so we’ll have to start preparing for the festival.” He rubs his eyes, clearly not looking forward to all the work that comes with it.
“I completely forgot about that but you’re right, the month is almost over.” You scrunch your face up in thought, counting the days in your head. Today is the 26th of the Cherry Moon, and the Summer Solstice is on the 8th of the Midday Moon, so that’s only eleven more days.
“Be that as it may, don’t let me keep you, $playername. Greet Lady and Sir Grahm from me, while you’re there.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow, Az’Lean.”
You take a bow before continuing on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun just as much.
A small smile lingers on your face as you think about seeing your parents, and if your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]<<set $lie to $lie - 1>>\
<<set $Azknows to "yes">>\
You start wringing your hands, gaze fixed intently on the metal shutters in front of Az’Lean’s window.
“I need to tell you something,” you say slowly. It’s not your intention to let the words hang in the air and build suspense, you simply need to force them out before you have the chance to regret them. “It- It is very difficult for me to talk about, and I need you to promise me to let me finish before you say anything.”
This much you need from him, otherwise you won’t be able to speak another word.
Az’Lean leans closer to you, whether out of curiosity or concern you can’t tell. You ignore the way it feels like he’s backing you into a corner.
“I promise, $playername,” Az’Lean says and you notice he sounds confused more than anything.
You take a deep breath and steel yourself. You are a knight, for the love of the Gods, you can do this. You just have to push through.
“You know I grew up with Lady and Sir Grahm. Like my father, I always wanted to be a knight, and since we are the same age, I also always dreamt of being your Champion. That dream carried me through years of squire training, and then two weeks ago, that dream came true. You remember your birthday feast, right? At midnight, I celebrated my own birthday as well. I don’t know if you saw, but at some point I had to step out to get some air.”
The words all but rush out of your mouth, as if they were a caged beast that was finally let loose. You feel yourself losing control of the situation, but it’s too late anyway. The words just keep coming.
“I went to the castle courtyard, and someone else was there. It was a woman, but she wasn’t human. She knew me, and she wanted to speak to me.”
You can feel Az’Lean tense next to you. The hostility he gives off is palpable, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his sword arm twitch. Maybe you should be concerned about this reaction, but as you continue speaking, you truly don’t feel much of anything.
“I didn’t trust her, since she was obviously fae, but she really did know my name and who I was. Then she said something else, about me…”
It’s like you hit some sort of hurdle, and the words have to squeeze past a tight lock. Your heart is threatening to give out under the strain of beating so quickly, and your tongue feels dry as sandpaper, but you keep on pushing, fighting through it.
“She said… She said… She said that I, $playername Grahm, was actually a changeling, smuggled into the family at birth. I didn’t believe a word of it, and she disappeared again. The next day, you showed me around the castle… I didn’t really believe what she said, but I couldn’t ignore the doubts and fears. What if she was right?”
Az’Lean has gone eerily still. You still refuse to look at him. Just a bit more. One more push. One more breath.
“So then at night… At night I- I- I got in front of a mirror, and- and- and-”
Air rushes into your lungs to fill the void, it’s like a spark goes off inside you and you are about to explode. A bit of mania slips into your voice and you feel the urge to laugh at the absurdity of all this.
Finally, you turn to Az’Lean, taking in the stony expression on his face. Unreadable. That’s no good. You need to break through to him. You need to make him understand.
“It’s true, Az’Lean, it’s true! What she said! That I am a… changeling… a fae. But I didn’t know! I didn’t know and you have to believe me! I grew up like a normal human and I feel like a human and there was never anything I wanted more than to be a knight. I promise you that. And I am sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner, but how could I? I couldn't believe it, couldn’t understand it, and I was so scared - am so scared. Of what I am, and what it means. And I haven’t told anyone. But I can’t lie to you, so please. You have to believe me.”
You can see the turmoil on his face as you finish speaking. You’re breathing heavily, exhausted as if you had just been in a tournament. Tears are gathering in your eyes. From relief? Or preemptively?
Az’Lean takes a few deep breaths, looks you over again and again carefully. His expression is strained, but you can’t tell which way it’s going to break.
“You’re a changeling, but you didn’t know until two weeks ago?” he asks. There’s something like desperation in his voice. He’s hoping he misunderstood.
“Yes,” you say in confirmation.
<<if $lie > 5>>He doesn’t quite believe you. He seems unable to discern whether you’re being truthful or not.<<endif>>\
<<if $humour > 4>>Az’Lean is frowning, as if he thinks you are perhaps making a very bad joke.<<endif>>\
<<if $instability > 5>>There’s still some concern there. Maybe he thinks you have lost your mind.<<endif>>\
Az’Lean runs a hand across his face. It’s shaking slightly.
[[“Prove it. Show me.”|Chapter5AzTruth2]]He wants you to show him. To change your appearance to that of a changeling. You don’t even know if you can do it, as you have only done it once before. You also don’t know if you <i>want</i> to do it, but looking at the coldness in Az’Lean eyes, you doubt you’ll be able to salvage this if you refuse.
“Alright,” you say, and your voice breaks on the single word.
Slowly, you get up and stand in front of Az’Lean, facing him. You can’t feel your legs anymore and the edges of your vision have gone dark. There’s a very real possibility that you might faint. Would Az’Lean catch you?
You try your best to keep breathing, trying to access the core of magic deep inside you. It was easy the last time, you just had to visualise that feeling of letting go, of letting the illusion fall away like a curtain.
You can’t see yourself right now, so you don’t know if it’s working. You don’t need to. You can feel it and, most importantly, you can observe the change in Az’Lean’s expression. That’s all the mirror you need.
As you feel the sensation of change crawling piece by piece across your skin, you watch as Az’Lean’s eyes reflect first disbelief, then fear, followed by a deep sadness. That’s the emotion that lingers the longest, and you can feel that same sadness taking hold inside of you as well.
You lift a shaking hand to your head, carefully running it across the shell of your ear. Pointed. Different. Fae.
Az’Lean is still looking at you. He hasn’t said a word yet, hasn’t moved. He’s just watching you, blue eyes like pools of murky water.
[[“I am a monster. I can understand if you hate me.”|Chapter5AzTruth2A]]
[[“Please don’t hate me. It’s not my fault I was born like this.”|Chapter5AzTruth2B]]
[[You are unable to speak.|Chapter5AzTruth2C]]Az’Lean winces at your words. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stands up and moves closer. He’s approaching you carefully, like a spooked animal. Like a threat.
“Hate is too strong a word, but I just…can’t believe this”, he all but whispers, voice endlessly soft as if afraid that anyone else might be listening in.
He keeps looking at you, and you can’t help but feel exposed and scrutinised. Almost purely on instinct, you change back. Az’Lean looks surprised for a moment, but then his expression settles on something more concerning than even the sadness. He seems angry.
Now that you’re back to looking like yourself, Az’Lean seems to have no problem voicing his frustration. “Why on earth would you choose now to tell me?” he all but hisses, yaw clenched tightly.
You’re a bit thrown off-guard. He’s angry, not because of what you are, but for telling him? You can’t get a read on his reaction at all, and it makes you want to turn tail and run.
“What?”
Az’Lean steps closer, gaze hardening. “A changeling just infiltrated the castle and attacked us! And now you, what, expect me to take this reveal well? To ignore what you are and just continue living my life?”
He waits a few seconds but when it becomes clear that you don’t have an answer, he throws up his hands and starts pacing around the room.
“Gods, why have you put me into this position? I can’t- I can’t let you <i>stay</i> here $playername! You know fae aren’t allowed to be here, and as prince, I am very much beholden to the law!”
Guilt rises steadily within you. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you with this.”
Az’Lean scoffs. “Then why would you tell me? You didn’t think it would burden me? Tell me what in the Gods names I am supposed to do with this information. Do you want me to exile you? Execute you? Because I don’t want that! I want to believe that you aren’t some sort of fae spy, after all, I was there when you arrived in Gaitanis over ten years ago. But how am I supposed to deal with this? What, exactly, am I supposed to think now?”
You can see that he is spiralling, riling himself up into a frenzy. His breathing has become a bit erratic, and his hands are shaking.
“I don’t-”
He doesn’t let you finish, instead running his hands through his hair, over and over again. “How am I supposed to react? How am I supposed to act, given this information?”
“Az’Lean, you need to breathe-”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!”
His eyes are bright like blue flames as he glares at you.
“Please, I-”
“I need time.”
Az’Lean deflates, all anger and panic suddenly washed away, leaving only that sadness from earlier behind.
You take a deep breath, trying to keep up with him. He needs time. A reasonable request. You can give him time. You can do that.
“I understand, as much time as you need,” you say, glad that he is leaving you with a sliver of hope. He hasn’t written you off yet. You should be grateful that he is even giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Az’Lean sits down on the edge of his bed again, suddenly lethargic. “You should…leave. Tomorrow’s your day off. Go visit your…go visit Grahm territory.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know if-”
“It wasn’t a fucking suggestion. Get out. I’ll have…come to terms with this by Monday. Then we’ll talk.”
Az’Lean is waving his hand in your general direction. You are clearly dismissed.
You bow shakily before making your way to the door.
[[“Alright. Thank you, your majesty.”|Chapter5AzTruth3]]Az’Lean winces at your words. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stands up and moves closer. He’s approaching you carefully, like a spooked animal. Like a threat.
“I don’t <i>hate</i> you, and I get that, but I just…can’t believe this”, he all but whispers, voice endlessly soft as if afraid that anyone else might be listening in.
He keeps looking at you, and you can’t help but feel exposed and scrutinised. Almost purely on instinct, you change back. Az’Lean looks surprised for a moment, but then his expression settles on something more concerning than even the sadness. He seems angry.
Now that you’re back to looking like yourself, Az’Lean seems to have no problem voicing his frustration. “Why on earth would you choose now to tell me?” he all but hisses, yaw clenched tightly.
You’re a bit thrown off-guard. He’s angry, not because of what you are, but for telling him? You can’t get a read on his reaction at all, and it makes you want to turn tail and run.
“What?”
Az’Lean steps closer, gaze hardening. “A changeling just infiltrated the castle and attacked us! And now you, what, expect me to take this reveal well? To ignore what you are and just continue living my life?”
He waits a few seconds but when it becomes clear that you don’t have an answer, he throws up his hands and starts pacing around the room.
“Gods, why have you put me into this position? I can’t- I can’t let you <i>stay</i> here $playername! You know fae aren’t allowed to be here, and as prince, I am very much beholden to the law!”
Guilt rises steadily within you. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you with this.”
Az’Lean scoffs. “Then why would you tell me? You didn’t think it would burden me? Tell me what in the Gods' names I am supposed to do with this information. Do you want me to exile you? Execute you? Because I don’t want that! I want to believe that you aren’t some sort of fae spy, after all I was there when you arrived in Gaitanis over ten years ago. But how am I supposed to deal with this? What, exactly, am I supposed to think now?”
You can see that he is spiralling, riling himself up into a frenzy. His breathing has become a bit erratic, and his hands are shaking.
“I don’t-”
He doesn’t let you finish, instead running his hands through his hair, over and over again. “How am I supposed to react? How am I supposed to act, given this information?”
“Az’Lean, you need to breathe-”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!”
His eyes are bright like blue flames as he glares at you.
“Please, I-”
“I need time.”
Az’Lean deflates, all anger and panic suddenly washed away, leaving only that sadness from earlier behind.
You take a deep breath, trying to keep up with him. He needs time. A reasonable request. You can give him time. You can do that.
“I understand, as much time as you need,” you say, glad that he is leaving you with a sliver of hope. He hasn’t written you off yet. You should be grateful that he is even giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Az’Lean sits down on the edge of his bed again, suddenly lethargic. “You should…leave. Tomorrow’s your day off. Go visit your…go visit Grahm territory.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know if-”
“It wasn’t a fucking suggestion. Get out. I’ll have…come to terms with this by Monday. Then we’ll talk.”
Az’Lean is waving his hand in your general direction. You are clearly dismissed.
You bow shakily before making your way to the door.
[[“Alright. Thank you, your majesty.”|Chapter5AzTruth3]]Az’Lean winces at your silence. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stands up and moves closer. He’s approaching you carefully, like a spooked animal. Like a threat.
“I…can’t really believe this”, he all but whispers, voice endlessly soft as if afraid that anyone else might be listening in.
He keeps looking at you, and you can’t help but feel exposed and scrutinised. Almost purely on instinct, you change back. Az’Lean looks surprised for a moment, but then his expression settles on something more concerning than even the sadness. He seems angry.
Now that you’re back to looking like yourself, Az’Lean seems to have no problem voicing his frustration. “Why on earth would you choose now to tell me?” he all but hisses, yaw clenched tightly.
You’re a bit thrown off-guard. He’s angry, not because of what you are, but for telling him? You can’t get a read on his reaction at all, and it makes you want to turn tail and run.
“What?”
Az’Lean steps closer, gaze hardening. “A changeling just infiltrated the castle and attacked us! And now you, what, expect me to take this reveal well? To ignore what you are and just continue living my life?”
He waits a few seconds but when it becomes clear that you don’t have an answer, he throws up his hands and starts pacing around the room.
“Gods, why have you put me into this position? I can’t- I can’t let you <i>stay</i> here $playername! You know fae aren’t allowed to be here, and as prince, I am very much beholden to the law!”
Guilt rises steadily within you. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you with this.”
Az’Lean scoffs. “Then why would you tell me? You didn’t think it would burden me? Tell me what in the Gods' names I am supposed to do with this information. Do you want me to exile you? Execute you? Because I don’t want that! I want to believe that you aren’t some sort of fae spy, after all I was there when you arrived in Gaitanis over ten years ago. But how am I supposed to deal with this? What, exactly, am I supposed to think now?”
You can see that he is spiralling, riling himself up into a frenzy. His breathing has become a bit erratic, and his hands are shaking.
“I don’t-”
He doesn’t let you finish, instead running his hands through his hair, over and over again. “How am I supposed to react? How am I supposed to act, given this information?”
“Az’Lean, you need to breathe-”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!”
His eyes are bright like blue flames as he glares at you.
“Please, I-”
“I need time.”
Az’Lean deflates, all anger and panic suddenly washed away, leaving only that sadness from earlier behind.
You take a deep breath, trying to keep up with him. He needs time. A reasonable request. You can give him time. You can do that.
“I understand, as much time as you need,” you say, glad that he is leaving you with a sliver of hope. He hasn’t written you off yet. You should be grateful that he is even giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Az’Lean sits down on the edge of his bed again, suddenly lethargic. “You should…leave. Tomorrow’s your day off. Go visit your…go visit Grahm territory.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know if-”
“It wasn’t a fucking suggestion. Get out. I’ll have…come to terms with this by Monday. Then we’ll talk.”
Az’Lean is waving his hand in your general direction. You are clearly dismissed.
You bow shakily before making your way to the door.
[[“Alright. Thank you, your majesty.”|Chapter5AzTruth3]]You leave his chambers as fast as you can, and it admittedly feels like running away. Even though you told him everything, it doesn’t really feel like any weight has been lifted off your chest. In the end, you still don’t know what will happen next, and how Az’Lean will come to feel about you going forward. For now, you just have to keep going as you have been, even more burdened than before.
Maybe you really shouldn’t have told him, at least not right now. <i>Of course now wouldn’t be the right time! Idiot!</i> You had just seen a hostile changeling, obviously Az’Lean would feel bothered by this revelation. You’ve foisted a large amount of responsibility onto him - forced him to choose between looking out for you or following the law. His position as prince is difficult enough as it is, and you’ve just added more to his plate. <i>Even if he doesn’t hate you for being fae, he must surely hate you for being a bother.</i>
Almost as if you were a puppet controlled by someone else, you return to your room and get ready for bed. By the time you are under the covers, you have no recollection of how you got there. Your mind was too far away, too busy.
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, and Az’Lean has all but ordered you to go visit your parents today. Another difficult conversation looms on the horizon, though it may be an opportunity to get some answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Even if Az’Lean hadn’t sent you away, it would have been a good idea to do this anyway. You can’t exactly be mad about your temporary, one-day exile, but it still feels like more hardships are being piled onto your plate.
Leaving the castle and Az’Lean behind feels a bit like running away, but you can only imagine how furious he’d be with you if you disobeyed him. Besides, he might be right in that you both need it. Not only have you given him a lot to think about, but there will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father. You just hope nothing else happens while you are away.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe it’s good that you can’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
After mentally preparing yourself as best you can, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head out immediately. You don’t want to risk running into Az’Lean - or really anyone else. If someone asks you where you’re going and what you’re doing, you’re not sure you could answer them without letting something slip or even breaking down. It would be bad if rumours spread that you and Az’Lean had a falling out - that would invite even more danger upon the two of you.
Thankfully, you don’t encounter anyone on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun. Even though dread keeps pooling inside your stomach, a part of you is looking forward to seeing your parents. If your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
Even though you haven’t known Lester for long, you get the feeling he’d be able to help you. He was there today, helping you search for the impostor, alerting the knights, and checking up on you once everything was over. You feel like he’d be sympathetic to you needing some company right now - maybe he could use some as well.
It doesn’t take too long to make your way to the servants' quarters. The hallways are busy, maybe even busier than usual. Surely by now, everyone has heard about the intruder, and rumours as to their identity must be spreading like wildfire. A few curious or concerned looks are thrown your way, and you try to walk a bit more like you’re patrolling and a bit less like you’re running away from something.
Lester’s door is closed when you arrive, but you can see light shining through from underneath. You knock on his door and wait as patiently as you can with your heart still hammering away in your chest. Hopefully he’ll invite you in and let you sit down, otherwise you fear you might not be able to move from this spot again with how blurry your vision is starting to get. You try to focus on your breathing, but you can’t quite get it right.
It takes a few seconds for the door to swing wide open. Lester stands there, a grey cat wriggling in his arms, seemingly trying to climb on top of his shoulder.
“Champ! Fancy seeing you here,” he says, smiling wryly. “Couldn’t even be without me for a couple hours, hm?”
Well, he’s not even particularly wrong with that assessment, though you have bigger problems at the moment. “Mind if I come in? I think I need to sit down.”
Lester looks back at his room - it is clearly a mess of clothing and other random objects strewn about. You notice a small flame hovering around near the ceiling - that seems like a fire hazard.
“Eh, fine. Make yourself comfortable and feel free to just throw all my stuff on the ground if it’s in the way.”
You follow him inside and choose to sit down on the edge of the bed, as the only chair available is covered with a stack of papers, and you don’t want to risk moving that. Lester sets the cat down on the ground and takes a seat next to you. As soon as the cat realises that it is no longer the centre of Lester’s attention, it jumps onto the window sill, pushes the pane to the side with its head, and disappears outside onto the castle walls.
“Is that your cat?” you can’t help but ask.
Lester shakes his head. “No, she belongs to a friend of mine, but she likes to come visit from time to time. Never mind that now, though. Is everything alright? I assume you didn’t come here just because you were bored.” He looks at you with a grin, but it isn’t mocking.
The words catch in your throat for a moment. “I just- I just didn’t want to be alone right now. After everything that’s happened, I just can’t stop feeling on edge.” You lay a hand on your chest. “And, well… my heart’s still racing. Like I’m still in the middle of a fight. It won’t stop.”
Lester’s grin drops like lead. “Shit, you’re not hurt though, right?” He shuffles closer, trying to get a better look at you. “Your breathing’s kinda off.”
“No, I took care of my injuries. I think I just need to calm down,” you say, unsure how to handle Lester’s bright green eyes boring holes into you.
“What usually helps you calm down? You came to me for help and I am flattered, but I don’t really know what would help you,” Lester admits.
[[“Would you… would you give me a hug?”|Chapter5Lester2A]]
[[“Do you know any way to get my breathing back under control?”|Chapter5Lester2B]]Lester’s face lights up. “Of course! I’m great at giving hugs, I’ll have you know. Come here, Champ.”
He practically throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you close. Your chin ends up resting on his head, due to the height difference, but it still feels very much like he is the one holding you and not the other way around. The hug feels warm and comfortable at first, though it keeps increasingly getting hotter, almost as if your arms were wrapped around a living oven.
It does help, though. Lester’s heartbeat syncs up with your own as you manage to calm down, and you try to match his breathing as well. It feels like for this one moment all your worries are washed away and instead replaced with feelings of safety and peace.
You stay like this for a while, and would have stayed like this longer, if the heat emanating from Lester wasn’t starting to get almost unbearable.
“You’re running pretty hot,” you say as you slowly extract yourself from his arms.
“The perks of being half fire-sprite,” he says with a shrug. “I make exceptionally good company in winter.”
“I don’t doubt that. This was… exactly what I needed. Thank you, Lester.”
The sincerity of your gratitude seems to catch him off guard for a moment, but it passes quickly.
“Don’t mention it, $playername. I live to serve. I’m not surprised that having to fend off a changeling that stole your identity rattled you, but I am surprised that you came to me for support. I know that I’m a great, trustworthy guy, but still.” He looks at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “So what gives?”
You can’t help but feel a bit of whiplash. One moment he is comforting you with a hug, the next he is questioning your intentions. It’s difficult to gauge where you stand with Lester.
You’ll have to decide how much you want to tell him.
“Having that changeling steal my identity, and then watching them die not even knowing what their intentions were… It’s made me worry about what other kinds of threats might be lurking in the castle. It’s made me worry about what comes next.” You’re not lying, you’re simply choosing to leave some of your bigger fears out. “The reason I came to you is because I figured I didn’t have to explain the situation to you, that would have just made me feel worse, and I figured you wouldn’t judge me.”
Lester scratches his beard. “I suppose that makes sense. I guess even the Champion needs to rely on other people. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re more than capable of protecting Princeling whenever something else happens, and you’ll grow more confident in time.”
“Thank you, Lester. Even though I have always dreamt of being the Champion, as of two weeks ago I was just a… a squire. It’s all still pretty overwhelming.” Honestly, even if you weren’t a changeling, or if you didn’t know you were, your life would still be pretty harrowing. That you’re expected to be able to deal with both seems almost unfair.
“I should hope no one expects you to do everything on your own. I mean, without my help today, who knows what would have happened!” Lester grins proudly. “I don’t dislike you, $playername. So I might help again in the future.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. It shouldn’t be reassuring to be told something like that, but it does make you feel less alone in all this. “I also don’t dislike you Lester, so I might take you up on that offer.”
His eyes seem to practically sparkle with joy. “Oh, I am so glad to hear that. Mutual non-dislike. It’s great.”
Lester proceeds to let himself fall backwards so he’s lying on his bed, feet dangling over the edge, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He pats the mattress next to him. You plant your feet on the ground and let yourself fall backwards. The mattress feels worn out, but the heat emanating from Lester and the many pillows make it comfortable nonetheless. You examine the ceiling, spotting a few spider webs in one of the corners.
“Now that you seem to be feeling a bit better, if there’s anything you need to get off your chest…” Lester is silent for a second. “I wouldn’t mind lending an ear.”
Your heart skips a beat. There is something else you could tell him. It’s clear that you get along, and that he cares about you. He’s half-fae himself. Is there anyone else you’d rather tell that you were a changeling?
It could work out. There’s a chance that he would be understanding. But is it worth the risk?
[[Maybe you should tell Lester everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Lester3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Lester3B]]Lester nods quickly. “I’m sure we can do that. Let’s try to breathe together, alright?”
He begins taking slow, exaggerated breaths, signalling you to try and follow along. You focus only on Lester - his movements, his rhythm - and try to sync your own breathing up to his. Soon enough you are breathing at the same pace, and you don’t even have to concentrate on it anymore. You can feel your heartbeat slow down a bit, and it’s like all the fog is cleared from your mind.
You and Lester are simply being present, existing next to each other, and relishing in the safety and peace that comes with it. You find yourself smiling a little.
“This was…exactly what I needed. Thank you, Lester.”
The sincerity of your gratitude seems to catch him off guard for a moment, but it passes quickly.
“Don’t mention it, $playername. I live to serve. I’m not surprised that having to fend off a changeling that stole your identity rattled you, but I am surprised that you came to me for support. I know that I’m a great, trustworthy guy, but still.” He looks at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “So what gives?”
You can’t help but feel a bit of whiplash. One moment he is helping you to control your breathing, the next he is questioning your intentions. It’s difficult to gauge where you stand with Lester.
You’ll have to decide how much you want to tell him.
“Having that changeling steal my identity, and then watching them die not even knowing what their intentions were… It’s made me worry about what other kinds of threats might be lurking in the castle. It’s made me worry about what comes next.” You’re not lying, you’re simply choosing to leave some of your bigger fears out. “The reason I came to you is because I figured I didn’t have to explain the situation to you, that would have just made me feel worse, and I figured you wouldn’t judge me.”
Lester scratches his beard. “I suppose that makes sense. I guess even the Champion needs to rely on other people. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re more than capable of protecting Princeling whenever something else happens, and you’ll grow more confident in time.”
“Thank you, Lester. Even though I have always dreamt of being the Champion, as of two weeks ago I was just a… a squire. It’s all still pretty overwhelming.” Honestly, even if you weren’t a changeling, or if you didn’t know you were, your life would still be pretty harrowing. That you’re expected to be able to deal with both seems almost unfair.
“I should hope no one expects you to do everything on your own. I mean, without my help today, who knows what would have happened!” Lester grins proudly. “I don’t dislike you, $playername. So I might help again in the future.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. It shouldn’t be reassuring to be told something like that, but it does make you feel less alone in all this. “I also don’t dislike you Lester, so I might take you up on that offer.”
His eyes seem to practically sparkle with joy. “Oh, I am so glad to hear that. Mutual non-dislike. It’s great.”
Lester proceeds to let himself fall backwards so he’s lying on his bed, feet dangling over the edge, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He pats the mattress next to him. You plant your feet on the ground and let yourself fall backwards. The mattress feels worn out, but the heat emanating from Lester and the many pillows make it comfortable nonetheless. You examine the ceiling, spotting a few spider webs in one of the corners.
“Now that you seem to be feeling a bit better, if there’s anything you need to get off your chest…” Lester is silent for a second. “I wouldn’t mind lending an ear.”
Your heart skips a beat. There is something else you could tell him. It’s clear that you get along, and that he cares about you. He’s half-fae himself. Is there anyone else you’d rather tell that you were a changeling?
It could work out. There’s a chance that he would be understanding. But is it worth the risk?
[[Maybe you should tell Lester everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Lester3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Lester3B]]As the idea forms itself in your head, you immediately stop yourself. Even if you figure you need to come forward with the truth eventually, is today the day? Are you sure now is the right moment?
You try to imagine how Lester might react.
On one hand, Lester is half-fae himself. He’s most likely to understand your struggle regarding your identity, and with one of his parents being fae, you doubt he has any grudge against them. You also don’t think he would care that much about you breaking a law by being here. On the other hand, he might not care enough about you to want to stick around after knowing the truth. By keeping your secret he would be putting himself in jeopardy. His presence in the castle is barely accepted as it is, he might not want to associate himself with a changeling.
He hasn’t known you for long. Do you really want to burden him with this? The two of you might be something like friends, but he’s only known you for two weeks. There’s a good chance that he’d throw you to the wolves without hesitation if it came down to it. Can you really trust Lester with your life?
Telling him the truth is a risk. But if there is a single person in this castle who could understand being in the middle of a conflict between humans and fae, it would be him.
Is now really the time to tell him? Are you certain that it’s the right decision?
[[Yes. Tell him.|Chapter5LesterTruth1]]
[[No. Don’t tell him.|Chapter5Lester3B]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
“I think talking wouldn’t really help me right now. Let’s just…do nothing. For a while.” You fold your arms behind your head, making yourself comfortable.
Lester’s laughter is almost strong enough to shake the bed. “I didn’t expect that. Usually people love venting, and just talking about themselves in general. But I’m a big fan of doing nothing, so this is fine by me.”
The two of you lie there, side by side, staring at the ceiling. It’s quiet, but it’s a comfortable silence. You’re just two people existing next to each other and drawing strength from that. There’s no reason to talk and you are glad for it.
You are almost surprised when no unbidden thoughts form in your head. You’ve somehow managed to empty your mind completely, and it feels very freeing. All you think about is the pattern in the spiderweb, the unevenness of the mattress, the slight draft from the open window, and the warmth from Lester. His breathing is still slow and even, almost deliberately so, which makes you wonder if he really is doing it on purpose to help guide you along. Your breathing syncs up with his without any conscious input from you, and it feels just right.
How much time is passing is hard to tell, though you do eventually notice that it’s getting dark out. Without the sun, the hovering flame is the only light source left.
“Is that your fire?” you ask eventually. Your voice is quiet - you don’t want to disturb the calm atmosphere.
“Hmm. Made it with magic,” Lester answers. His voice has gotten low and soft, almost as if he were half-asleep. “I don’t usually get it to stay for this long.”
“How often do you set your room on fire?”
Lester snorts. “My room? Almost never. Other places aren’t so lucky. I’m still getting the hang of fire magic. Don’t really have a fire-sprite to teach me or to practise with.”
“It must be difficult, figuring everything out by yourself.”
“Yeah.”
You fall silent again. Exhaustion begins to claw at you, threatening to drag you off into sleep if you stay like this. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but you shouldn’t just take up space in Lester’s bed. You also don’t want to wake up with back pain from the awkward position you’re in, so you force yourself to sit up.
Lester blinks at you lazily. “Leaving?”
“Yes, it’s getting pretty dark and I should probably go get some sleep.”
He nods, but doesn’t move to get up. “Good idea. If you ever wanna stare at the ceiling together again, you know where to find me.”
You can’t help but smile as you get up. “Thank you, Lester. You were excellent company.”
He grins brightly. “As were you, $playername.”
The way you part ways feels heartfelt enough, and when you return to your room, you feel a lot better than when you had left it. You have managed to return to your normal state of being by seeking support from Lester, and you should be content with that, but truthfully, your normal state of being does not feel all that great. Dread and doubt still lingers, like a pit deep within your stomach, always threatening to grow and consume all these moments of reprieve and peace until none are left.
You managed to get through the day, but how long can you be alone with your thoughts before you get to this place again? You feel like you have grown closer to Lester, but you still didn’t manage to tell him the truth. Maybe it was for the best, or maybe you missed a great opportunity.
There’s no point thinking about it now, so you try not to.
[[The sun sets, the day ends, and your life continues.|Chapter5LesterEnd]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, so you could spend it lying about in bed without a problem, but yesterday’s events still linger in your mind. An idea occurs to you - a way to spend your day and hopefully get some more answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Today though might be the perfect opportunity - and possibly the only opportunity you’ll get for a while.
Now might seem like an inopportune time to leave the castle, and Az’Lean, behind, but after the talk you had with Lester yesterday, you feel like you have to do this while you can. Besides, it might be good for Az’Lean to have a day to himself without having to worry about whether you are an impostor or not. There will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father anyway. It should be fine to take a short trip like this - if you leave now you can easily be back by nightfall.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe you shouldn’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
With the decision made, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head over to Az’Lean’s room. You catch him just as he is leaving.
“The roses are in full bloom today,” you say by way of greeting.
His face brightens as soon as you do, and he smiles in relief. “You remembered the code phrase!”
“Of course. It’s no good if you were to suspect me of being an impostor every time we saw each other, so I made sure not to forget.” You tap your temple with a smile.
“Thank you, $playername. I appreciate that a lot. You look like you are heading out, got any plans for today?”
“I’ll take a short trip to Grahm territory, just for today. With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit my parents again, so I thought I should do it while I can,” you explain. “As long as you don’t need me here today, that is.”
Az’Lean waves your concerns away. “I’ll be fine. I think you have the right idea to get out of here for a day, as long as you make sure you’re back by tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, that I can promise.”
“Then it’s all good. Besides, you’re right that we’ll be even busier from now on. Reinforcing the border, and now updating the castle’s security as well - we have our work cut out for us. Not to mention the Summer Solstice is coming up soon, so we’ll have to start preparing for the festival.” He rubs his eyes, clearly not looking forward to all the work that comes with it.
“I completely forgot about that but you’re right, the month is almost over.” You scrunch your face up in thought, counting the days in your head. Today is the 26th of the Cherry Moon, and the Summer Solstice is on the 8th of the Midday Moon, so that’s only eleven more days.
“Be that as it may, don’t let me keep you, $playername. Greet Lady and Sir Grahm from me, while you’re there.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow, Az’Lean.”
You take a bow before continuing on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun just as much.
A small smile lingers on your face as you think about seeing your parents, and if your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]<<set $lie to $lie - 1>>\
<<set $Lesterknows to "yes">>\
You start wringing your hands, gaze fixed intently on the ceiling.
“I need to tell you something,” you say slowly. It’s not your intention to let the words hang in the air and build suspense, you simply need to force them out before you have the chance to regret them. “It- It is very difficult for me to talk about, and I need you to promise me to let me finish before you say anything.”
This much you need from Lester. If he interrupts, cracking a joke or asking a follow-up question, you suspect you will start to crumble, to back-pedal. No, you need to get through everything in one go.
You can’t see Lester’s expression from here, but his tone of voice sounds intrigued more than anything. “So you do have your secrets after all. No problem, I can listen. Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything you don’t want to, though.”
You wish you could just take him up on his offer and stop right here, but you have made your decision and you’ll see this through. You just have to trust in Lester - trust that he’ll understand.
You take a deep breath and steel yourself. You are a knight, for the love of the Gods, you can do this. You just have to push through.
“Ever since I was young, I wanted to be a knight, like my father. Since the prince and I are the same age, I also always wanted to be his Champion. And then two weeks ago, my dream came true! During the celebration, at some point after midnight, I had to step out to get some air.”
The words all but rush out of your mouth, as if they were a caged beast that was finally let loose. You feel yourself losing control of the situation, but it’s too late anyway. The words just keep coming.
“I went to the castle courtyard, and someone else was there. It was a woman, but she wasn’t human. She knew me, and she wanted to speak to me. I didn’t trust her, since she was obviously fae, but she really did know my name and who I was. Then she said something else, about me…”
It’s like you hit some sort of hurdle, and the words have to squeeze past a tight lock. Your heart is threatening to give out under the strain of beating so quickly, and your tongue feels dry as sandpaper, but you keep on pushing, fighting through it.
“She said… She said… She said that I, $playername Grahm, was actually a changeling, smuggled into the family at birth. I didn’t believe a word of it, and she disappeared again. The next day, I woke up in the barracks. I was confused, half believing that everything was just a dream or a drunken hallucination. That said, I couldn’t ignore the doubts and fears. What if she was right?”
You can feel Lester fidget next to you, but he keeps quiet. You don’t even want to think about what kind of expression he’s making right now.
You take another deep breath. Just a bit more, then you’ve gotten it over with. Just one more push.
“So then at night… At night I- I- I got in front of a mirror, and- and- and-”
Air rushes into your lungs to fill the void, it’s like a spark goes off inside you and you are about to explode. A bit of mania slips into your voice and you feel the urge to laugh at the absurdity of all this.
Without consciously deciding to do it, you reach out to Lester, grabbing his arm to ground yourself. You hope he doesn’t shake you off. You hope he understands.
“It’s true, Lester, it’s true! What she said! That I am a…changeling…a fae. But I didn’t know! I didn’t know and you have to believe me! I grew up like a normal human and I feel like a human and there was never anything I wanted more than to be a knight. I promise you that. I couldn't believe it, couldn’t understand it, and I was so scared - am so scared. Of what I am, and what it means. And I haven’t been able to tell anyone, but I thought if there was anyone who would hear me out, it’d be you. You have to believe me.”
You can see Lester sit up from the corner of your eye and force yourself to do the same. When he turns to you, you finally get to see his face - his reaction.
Lester stares at you, wide-eyed. Disbelieving. <i>Of course, why would he believe your ramblings? He barely knows you.</i>
<<if $lie > 5>> “That was a convincing performance, but that doesn’t mean you’re not trying to play me for a fool. I have a feeling you’re no stranger to telling a lie here or there. Though there is something you could do to prove that you’re telling the truth.”
[[He wants you to show him, so he can verify your claims with his own eyes.|Chapter5LesterTruth2A]]
<<else>>
“This is…a lot to take in all of a sudden, but I don’t think you’re lying.” He keeps staring at you as if that would reveal the truth. “I mean, why would you?”
[[You wait with bated breath for more - how does he feel about what you just told him?|Chapter5LesterTruth3]]
<<endif>>He wants you to show him. To change your appearance to that of a changeling. You don’t even know if you can do it, as you have only done it once before. You also don’t know if you <i>want</i> to do it, but looking at the lingering doubts in Lester’s eyes, you know this is the best way to make him believe you.
“Alright,” you say.
To your surprise Lester nods encouragingly and leans forward, as if the suspense kept him on the edge of his seat.
You stay seated, but make sure to fully turn towards Lester, facing him. It’s good that you’re sitting down, you wouldn’t trust your legs not to shake if you tried to get up.
You try your best to keep breathing evenly, trying to access the core of magic deep inside you. It was easy the last time, you just had to visualise that feeling of letting go, of letting the illusion fall away like a curtain.
You can’t see yourself right now, so you don’t know if it’s working. You don’t need to. You can feel it and, most importantly, you can observe the change in Lester’s expression. That’s all the mirror you need.
As you feel the sensation of change crawling piece by piece across your skin, you watch as Lester’s eyes widen and brighten, showing first surprise, then something like relief that slowly morphs into amusement. That’s the emotion that lingers the longest, and you’re not sure whether to feel offended or relieved yourself.
You lift a shaking hand to your head, carefully running it across the shell of your ear. Pointed and distinctly fae.
“You’re telling the truth,” Lester says, and he almost sounds like he’s having fun. “I can’t believe it!”
Now that you’re certain all of his doubts have been laid to rest, you quickly change back to your human appearance.
[[You wait with bated breath for him to say more - how does he feel about what you just told him?|Chapter5LesterTruth3]]Lester seems to think for a moment of what to say. The wait is killing you.
“Well, first things first: I have no problem at all with you being a changeling,” he says, and it feels like you’re flying. “My dad was fae, half my family is fae, I am not going to admit to having friends who are fae, but you can get the idea. You said that you didn’t know what you were, so I also can’t fault you for ending up working in the castle. You’re all good. Also, you’re damn brave for telling me, and you’re damn determined for sticking around even after finding out. You’re something else, $playername.”
Incredible warmth spreads within your chest and it feels like a heavy fog is lifting from your mind. The world suddenly seems so bright and you can feel your eyes start to water.
“Thank you, Lester. You don’t know how much it means for you to say that.”
He smiles brightly. “I think I can imagine! I know what it’s like to be an outsider against your will. I can’t exactly hide my heritage, and at least legally I am allowed to be here, but it still feels like I’m always hiding a part of myself. And I will always be viewed differently by both humans and fae. Being raised by humans, I’m sure you don’t feel much of a connection to the fae, but you also know that you aren’t human. There’s no one around you in the same position as you.”
You can’t help but stare, your $eyes eyes wide and watery. <i>He understands.</i> “You understand!”
Talking to Lester about this was the right decision, and pushing past your fear has been rewarded in a way you had never thought possible.
“At first, I didn’t know what to think about you, being Princeling’s right hand and all. But I like you, $playername, and I’m glad you came to me with this. We’ll absolutely have to keep your identity a secret, but at least now you have someone else to cover for you. I do have a few questions, though, if you don’t mind?” Lester looks unsure, like he’s afraid of pushing too far, of overwhelming you in your somewhat emotionally vulnerable state.
You decide to be honest. “Today has been a lot, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk much more about all this. But I can try to answer a few questions.”
“Right, you can tell me all about the details another time. I just wanna know how you feel about fae, and if there’s anything you plan to do with your new knowledge? I don’t want to presume we’re on the same page here…”
“I personally don’t have anything against the fae, and I know the conflict between them and the humans is a complicated matter. I haven’t really decided on anything in particular I want to do, but I do want to keep this a secret and learn as much about myself and the fae as I can.”
“I expected as much. I’m no expert myself, but I can start sharing what I know with you,” Lester says, almost sheepishly. “I’m not usually the helpful type, but for you I’d make an exception.”
Another wave of warmth washes over your heart, and you can barely keep your voice from breaking when you say “Thanks”.
The two of you fall into silence - it is a bit awkward, as revelations were had and secrets were shared, and it’s a lot to take in for both of you. You think the right thing to do for now is to retreat to your room and get some rest, and give Lester the chance to really process what he has learned today.
“It’s getting dark out,” Lester says, likely thinking along the same lines as you. “If you have plans for tomorrow, you should probably go to bed soon.”
“Plans?”
“It’s your day off, isn’t it? Don’t think I don’t know your schedule, Champ.” He grins proudly.
“I’m not sure yet what I’ll do tomorrow, though it might be good to get out of the castle for a bit.”
Lester and you chat a bit about mundane things - tomorrow’s weather, your schedules, what new stalls on the market might be worth checking out - as you get ready to leave his room. It serves well enough to return some sense of normality to you, and when you say your goodbyes and he closes the door, it feels less like the end of a momentous decision, and more like a regular visit to a friend.
As you make your way back to your room, your heart feels as light and warm as it hasn’t in days. You told him! And it went well! You had hoped that Lester would be understanding of you and your situation, but to have it confirmed is enough to make you tear up again at the thought of it.
Lester really is a good person. You feel lucky to have met him, and to have found someone who truly does not care about whether you are human, fae, or something in between. It feels like a heavy burden has been lifted off of you.
[[You are not alone.|Chapter5LesterEnd]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
Maeve is the only person you can be honest with, so it makes sense to seek her out. You patiently wait for nightfall before leaving your room. Immediately, you notice that security has been improved, especially on this floor. It makes sense, you suppose, but it is a bit of a hindrance.
Luckily, the few times you are questioned about your late-night walk, you get away with saying you wanted to do some extra patrolling yourself. Far be it from anyone to question the way the Champion does $pronoun job. The bigger problem is the guard roaming around in the castle gardens. While they’re far enough away from the weeping willow that they wouldn’t hear you talk to Maeve, they would definitely notice if a tall woman with pink hair suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
Before doing anything rash, you decide to check whether you can even contact Maeve in the first place. As casually as you can make it look, you lean against the trunk of the willow.
“Maeve? Can you hear me? Are you there? This is $playername,” you whisper as you keep checking your surroundings to make sure nobody is approaching.
It takes a few seconds before you get a response, but when you do, it is unmistakably Maeve’s voice, rustling through the leaves like a faint breeze.
“Yes, I can hear you. I’m still awake. Is something wrong?”
“I know our meeting isn’t until tomorrow, but I wanted to talk to you now. However, there’s a guard patrolling the gardens. Any ideas?”
You can hear Maeve hum in thought.
“If it’s not for long, I could cast a glamour on myself. They’d be able to see through it easily if they were close enough, but from a distance I’d just look like a vague silhouette. It should work, since it’s dark out, but it’s still risky.”
You consider the option. Maeve can disappear within the blink of an eye, so even if the guard walked over to you, it shouldn’t be a problem.
“Just for a few minutes would be enough. I just- I just need to ask you something. And I don’t want to be alone right now.”
The tree is silent for a while and dread begins pooling in your stomach. Did Maeve decide against it? Will you have to deal with this on your own, after all? But just when you start to get anxious, Maeve blinks into existence next to you. She too is leaning against the trunk, and when you look up to see her face, a pair of black eyes is staring back at you with concern.
“Did something happen?” she asks, immediately lowering her voice once she realises it’s too loud. It sounds like a genuine question.
“So you don’t know about it.” You’re somewhat relieved, even if you already suspected that that changeling had nothing to do with Maeve and her group. “Let me fill you in.”
Although it is somewhat painful, you relay everything that happened today to Maeve. Simply the act of speaking about it with someone who wasn’t there is already helping you process everything a bit better. A large part of you, however, is more concerned with watching Maeve’s face to see what her reaction to everything is.
Her expression quickly changes from one of surprise and confusion to one of barely concealed anger.
“I don’t know who that changeling was, but they were clearly here with intentions more sinister than my own,” she says. “The fact that they suddenly died might indicate that they were oath-bound in some sort of way.”
“Oath bound?” you ask.
Maeve’s expression clears up instantly, and it’s like all her anger simply dissipated.
“Never mind that for now. How are you holding up, $playername? This must have been…distressing? For you?” She’s clearly trying to sympathise, though you’re not sure if she really understood <i>why</i> watching someone who looked like you die and turn into the corpse of a changeling might be cause for distress.
“Yeah… Though the worst part is not being able to talk about it. That’s why I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell you. All this secrecy is getting to me. Only you I can be open with, Maeve, so I needed to see you.” You avert your gaze. “I’m sorry if this is inconveniencing you.”
“It’s no inconvenience at all, I’m glad I can be there for you!” Maeve turns to you and her gaze is intense. “Though I am sorry you have to go through this in the first place. What can I do to help you?”
You notice she’s shuffling her feet around, as if she’s barely able to restrain herself from taking some sort of action.
Something that would help…
[[“Would you…would you give me a hug?”|Chapter5Maeve2A]]
[[“Tell me more about the fae, about yourself. Give me something to connect to.”|Chapter5Maeve2B]]Maeve makes some sort of choked off noise. “Of course! Of course, come here.”
Strong arms wrap around you and hold you close. Maeve’s skin is rough, snagging against the fabric of your clothes, but her grip is gentle. You can feel her chin rest softly on top of your head as you wrap your own arms around her too. She’s warm and sturdy, her heartbeat is a good bit slower than yours, and she smells like sweet fruit and summer days.
The hug feels tender and intimate, and you get the sort of feeling that Maeve is drawing as much strength from it as you are. She’s not just indulging you, clearly.
You stay like this for a good minute before you slowly extract yourself from her hold. It’d be dangerous to just stand there out in the open without checking your surroundings. Your gaze sweeps across the gardens, making sure you’re still safe, before settling back on Maeve. There’s a big smile on her face and she looks delighted.
“T'was nice, $playername! I very much hope it helped.”
“It did. Thank you, Maeve. I really needed that,” you admit.
The two of you go back to leaning against the trunk, side by side.
“It is a shame that I can’t introduce you to any other fae. The only ones that could come here are my sisters, and they wouldn’t want to. And you’re in no position to just journey out into the fae woods,” Maeve says, almost wistfully. “But if you ever had to leave Gaiapeia, for any reason at all, you’d be most welcome. I can promise you that much.”
It is some consolation, you figure. You could probably have a life there, and you’re certain Maeve would help you in any way she could. Still, just abandoning your life here, your parents…it’s not something you want to think about just yet.
“I suppose the only other fae that might be around are more changelings,” you say. “Which isn’t as comforting a thought as I’d hoped it to be.”
“I wish I knew what that changeling was trying to accomplish and whether they were working alone or not. Just because I haven’t heard anything about it, doesn’t mean they weren’t part of the Unseelie Court, or even the Seelie Court,” Maeve says. “Though their methods were strange, weren’t they? Impersonating you of all people? That was bound to be found out quickly.”
“True. You said something earlier - about them being oath-bound? What does that mean, exactly?”
Maeve lays a hand across her heart. “It’s a type of fae magic. You make an oath to do something and die if you fail. It’s a way to prevent betrayal or keep secrets from spreading. It requires a lot of commitment on both sides, and a certain talent for magic.”
You cross your arms in thought. “So they weren’t working alone. At least not directly.”
“I guess so. I might do some investigating in my circles, see if the Seelie Court knows anything about this. Though I doubt it. They wouldn’t send me here to talk to you without telling me about other changelings that could endanger you and your position as Champion.” She grins down at you, all sharp teeth.
As nice as this is, you have to keep in mind that Maeve is here on a mission of her own. You’ve told her a lot of information today, mostly to the benefit of yourself, but this is also what she had been hoping for. Are you starting to act like a spy? You never consciously decided on it, but it’s something to think about.
You haven’t told her about what happened in Westwale territory yet, nor about the mass production of mabs… Should you tell her?
“What are you thinking about?” Maeve asks suddenly. She is studying your face closely.
[[Tell her about it, and ask about the Wild Hunt while you’re at it.|Chapter5Maeve3A]]
[[There’s no reason to tell her. Change the topic.|Chapter5Maeve3B]]You and Maeve remain leaning against the trunk, side by side, as she begins talking about her life in the grove. You learn that she and her sisters store their belongings and sleep in crystalline pods, while spending most of the day outside. Aside from the dryads, some other types of fae live in the grove, such as a flock of pixies, some more solitary gnomes, and a kelpie residing within the nearby lake. Other types of fae often visit the grove or pass through.
“There’s this one Leanan Sídhe who basically acts as our delivery man. He brings us books and wine and fabrics, magicked small enough so that it fits into the locket around his neck. We dryads are kind of dependent on other types of fae to reach out to us if we want to be social. In return, we provide our own unique services by keeping the forest healthy and the fruit bountiful.”
You can’t help but imagine yourself as the one visiting Maeve, bringing her goods from the kingdom. If anyone could get their hands on human products for her, it’d be you.
“'Tis a shame that I can’t introduce you to any other fae. The only ones that could come here are my sisters, and they wouldn’t want to. And you’re in no position to just journey out into the fae woods,” Maeve says, almost wistfully. “But if you ever had to leave Gaiapeia, for any reason at all, you’d be most welcome. I can promise you that much.”
It is some consolation, you figure. You could probably have a life there, and you’re certain Maeve would help you in any way she could. Still, just abandoning your life here, your parents…it’s not something you want to think about just yet.
“I suppose the only other fae that might be around are more changelings,” you say. “Which isn’t as comforting a thought as I’d hoped it to be.”
“I wish I knew what that changeling was trying to accomplish and whether they were working alone or not. Just because I haven’t heard anything about it, doesn’t mean they weren’t part of the Unseelie Court, or even the Seelie Court,” Maeve says. “Though their methods were strange, weren’t they? Impersonating you of all people? That was bound to be found out quickly.”
“True. You said something earlier - about them being oath-bound? What does that mean, exactly?”
Maeve lays a hand across her heart. “It’s a type of fae magic. You make an oath to do something and die if you fail. It’s a way to prevent betrayal or keep secrets from spreading. It requires a lot of commitment on both sides, and a certain talent for magic.”
You cross your arms in thought. “So they weren’t working alone. At least not directly.”
“I guess so. I might do some investigating in my circles, see if the Seelie Court knows anything about this. Though I doubt it. They wouldn’t send me here to talk to you without telling me about other changelings that could endanger you and your position as Champion.” She grins down at you, all sharp teeth.
As nice as this is, you have to keep in mind that Maeve is here on a mission of her own. You’ve told her a lot of information today, mostly to the benefit of yourself, but this is also what she had been hoping for. Are you starting to act like a spy? You never consciously decided on it, but it’s something to think about.
You haven’t told her about what happened in Westwale territory yet, nor about the mass production of mabs… Should you tell her?
“What are you thinking about?” Maeve asks suddenly. She is studying your face closely.
[[Tell her about it, and ask about the Wild Hunt while you’re at it.|Chapter5Maeve3A]]
[[There’s no reason to tell her. Change the topic.|Chapter5Maeve3B]]<<set $lie to $lie - 1>>\
“There’s more I need to fill you in on,” you say.
Maeve blinks at you with curiosity, listening intently as you talk about the situation in Westwale territory. Her expression turns grim when you tell her about the attacks, even more so once you explain the magical barrier devices to her. When you finally get to describing the Dullahan you had spotted beyond the border, her lips are pressed into a thin line. There’s recognition in her eyes.
“I know that Dullahan. Or rather, I know of him. He’s part of the Unseelie Court and their Wild Hunt has been around for years now. Though, I don’t think you quite understand what a Wild Hunt is.” Her smile is hovering somewhere between amused and patronising.
You shrug. “I thought it was supposed to be a group of riders that raid and attack as a threat of upcoming war.”
“That’s not…wrong, I guess,” Maeve says and begins curling a strand of hair around her finger. “But the primary function of a Wild Hunt is as messengers of the Gods - or a particular God, rather. They don’t herald just war, they herald any kind of disaster. They are supposed to be a threat, but they usually don’t just attack people. Not like there are any strict rules, though.”
“And the Gods, or a God, command them to do it?”
“No, it’s not a command in the sense that they are forced to do it. But if a God even just suggests you do something, who would go against that? ‘Tis likely that the Gods either want to warn us of the fact that something bad is going to happen, or one of the Gods is announcing that they themselves are going to do something disastrous. Why they were acting so violently, I do not know.”
“That the Gods might be involved is concerning, but thank you for explaining that to me.”
Maeve gestures broadly at your surroundings. “The Gods are involved in everything, $playername. ‘Tis the way of things.”
“I suppose so. Either way, there’s not much I can do about that. Fae only worship the Old Gods, right?” you ask, trying to remember what you can.
“Yes, though we simply refer to them as the Gods. No need for ‘Old’. We don’t recognise the New Deity as, well, as a deity.” There’s a moment of silence before Maeve changes the topic. “Say, are there any half-fae in the castle? Even if I can’t introduce you to any fae, maybe there are still some half-fae around. They might also be able to answer any questions you have about the fae. I know I’m not the easiest to get in contact with.”
You hesitate for a moment, but figure there’s no harm in telling her. “Well, there is Lester. He’s a servant, and he’s a half-sprite. Fire sprite, to be exact. He was the one that first saw that other changeling and told me about it.”
“Half-fire sprite… That rings a bell. I think I heard something about a fire-sprite who fell in love with a human woman. He might’ve visited the grove when I was young. ‘Tis possible I’m mistaken, though. This Lester, what do you make of him? Do you trust him?”
Maeve looks serious about that question, and you wonder what brought it on.
[[“Yes, I trust him. He obviously has his own story, but I believe he is a good person.”|Chapter5Maeve4A]]
[[“No, I don’t trust him. It’s obvious that he is hiding something.”|Chapter5Maeve4B]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
You shrug. “I just thought that so much is happening so quickly. It almost isn’t enough to meet with you only once per week. I feel like there’s constantly something I want to ask you.”
Maeve begins curling a strand of pink hair around her finger as she ponders that.
“Say, are there any half-fae in the castle? Even if I can’t introduce you to any fae, maybe there are still some half-fae around. They might also be able to answer any questions you have about the fae. I know I’m not the easiest to get in contact with.”
You hesitate for a moment, but figure there’s no harm in telling her. “Well, there is Lester. He’s a servant, and he’s a half-sprite. Fire sprite, to be exact. He was the one that first saw that other changeling and told me about it.”
“Half-fire sprite… That rings a bell. I think I heard something about a fire-sprite who fell in love with a human woman. He might’ve visited the grove when I was young. ‘Tis possible I’m mistaken, though. This Lester, what do you make of him? Do you trust him?”
Maeve looks serious about that question, and you wonder what brought it on.
[[“Yes, I trust him. He obviously has his own story, but I believe he is a good person.”|Chapter5Maeve4A]]
[[“No, I don’t trust him. It’s obvious that he is hiding something.”|Chapter5Maeve4B]]Maeve’s face lights up in excitement.
“Then maybe he is someone you could talk to more often, in lieu of me. It’s up to you how much you want to tell him, but I’d say if there’s anyone in that castle who would be sympathetic to your situation, it’d be a half-fae. The doubt, the alienation - ‘tis unfortunately very common among half-fae to experience.”
You consider what you know of Lester for a moment. There’s still much you don’t know about him, but you have to admit that his position as a half-fae surely gives him a unique perspective on the matter. If push came to shove, he might not be a bad person to confide in. As it stands, however, it just seems like an unnecessary risk.
“Maybe once I get to know him a little better, if the opportunity presents itself, I might consider it. For today, I think I’m content with being able to speak to you, Maeve.”
“$playername! That’s a sweet thing to say,” Maeve says between happy giggles. “I have an interesting lesson on fae magic planned for tomorrow if you’ll be able to make it. Something to look forward to!”
Her enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself smiling along.
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I should be able to sneak out at night. Though I admit, the increased security measures are bothersome.”
“What will you be doing during the day? Got any plans yet?”
You shrug, feeling a bit lost on the matter. “No, I haven’t really been in the right place of mind to think about it.”
“Have you spoken to the people who raised you yet?” Maeve pauses, face scrunched up in thought, clearly searching for the correct term. “Your parents? I know- I know it was a concern for you…”
“No, they’re all the way in Grahm territory. It would be possible to go there for just a day, but I doubt I’d be back before midnight. We wouldn’t be able to meet up on the same day.” While one day a week off had seemed almost too much at first, you now realise that there are quite a few things that take more time than that to accomplish.
Maeve tilts her head. “I see. Well, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but I think you should go see your parents when you get the chance. With security being high, as you said, and us having talked today, I’d understand if you couldn’t make it tomorrow.”
“Getting out of the castle for a day might not be the worst thing…” you say, idly crossing your arms.
On one hand, you’d be remiss to leave after there has just been an intrusion into the castle today. On the other hand, just idling away your day off might invite more unwanted thoughts again. You’ll have to see how you feel about it come morning.
Speaking of morning, if you really do want to do something tomorrow, you should make sure to get at least some sleep. It is way past midnight at this point, and the longer you stay here, the higher the risk that someone will either spot Maeve or question your actions.
When you look at Maeve, you notice that while happy, she does look a bit exhausted as well.
“How many hours of sleep do dryads need?” you ask while suppressing a yawn yourself.
Maeve folds her hands together, looking very much like a teacher. “We usually sleep when it’s dark, so from dusk till dawn. Not much different than humans in that regard, though that means we sleep a lot less in summer than in winter. Our activity level is closely linked to the sun.”
“So ordinarily, you’d be sleeping right now as well,” you sum up. “Maybe we should call it a day.”
“While I would like to say that it doesn’t matter and I could stay up all night if that’s what you wanted, I wouldn’t mind stopping here. Provided that you are feeling better, of course! Though by the looks of it, you are.”
Are you feeling better? Your heart isn’t racing, your breathing is even, and you feel more tired than anxious. At least for the moment, it seems that you have everything under control. How that will change once you are alone with your thoughts once more remains to be seen.
“I am feeling quite a bit better, thanks to you, Maeve.”
You delight in watching the way her black eyes seem to sparkle at the praise.
“Cheering people up is mere child’s play to me,” she says. “Well then, I hope you get some good rest tonight.”
[[“A good night to you as well, Maeve.”|Chapter5Maeve5]]Maeve’s face falls slightly.
“Ah, I had hoped that he might be someone you could talk to from time to time, in lieu of me. Considering he’s half-fae, I assume he’d be sympathetic to your situation. The doubt, the alienation - ‘tis unfortunately very common among half-fae to experience. Though there’s no point to it if you don’t trust him.”
You consider what you know of Lester for a moment. There is too much you don’t know about him, and you think he might be a lot more dangerous than he looks. As it stands, confiding in him just seems like an unnecessary risk.
“It would take a lot to get me to trust him. For today, I think I’m content with being able to speak to you, Maeve.”
“$playername! That’s a sweet thing to say,” Maeve says between happy giggles. “I have an interesting lesson on fae magic planned for tomorrow if you’ll be able to make it. Something to look forward to!”
Her enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself smiling along.
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I should be able to sneak out at night. Though I admit, the increased security measures are bothersome.”
“What will you be doing during the day? Got any plans yet?”
You shrug, feeling a bit lost on the matter. “No, I haven’t really been in the right place of mind to think about it.”
“Have you spoken to the people who raised you yet?” Maeve pauses, face scrunched up in thought, clearly searching for the correct term. “Your parents? I know- I know it was a concern for you…”
“No, they’re all the way in Grahm territory. It would be possible to go there for just a day, but I doubt I’d be back before midnight. We wouldn’t be able to meet up on the same day.” While at first, one day a week off had seemed almost too much, you know realise that there are quite a few things that take more time than that to accomplish.
Maeve tilts her head. “I see. Well, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but I think you should go see your parents when you get the chance. With security being high, as you said, and us having talked today, I’d understand if you couldn’t make it tomorrow.”
“Getting out of the castle for a day might not be the worst thing…” you say, idly crossing your arms.
On one hand, you’d be remiss to leave after there has just been an intrusion into the castle today. On the other hand, just idling away your day off might invite more unwanted thoughts again. You’ll have to see how you feel about it come morning.
Speaking of morning, if you really do want to do something tomorrow, you should make sure to get at least some sleep. It was way past midnight at this point, and the longer you stay here, the higher the risk that someone will either spot Maeve or question your actions.
When you look at Maeve, you notice that while happy, she does look a bit exhausted as well.
“How many hours of sleep do dryads need?” you ask while suppressing a yawn yourself.
Maeve folds her hands together, looking very much like a teacher. “We usually sleep when it’s dark, so from dusk till dawn. Not much different than humans in that regard, though that means we sleep a lot less in summer than in winter. Our activity level is closely linked to the sun.”
“So ordinarily, you’d be sleeping right now as well,” you sum up. “Maybe we should call it a day.”
“While I would like to say that it doesn’t matter and I could stay up all night if that’s what you wanted, I wouldn’t mind stopping here. Provided that you are feeling better, of course! Though by the looks of it, you are.”
Are you feeling better? Your heart isn’t racing, your breathing is even, and you feel more tired than anxious. At least for the moment, it seems that you have everything under control. How that will change once you are alone with your thoughts once more remains to be seen.
“I am feeling quite a bit better, thanks to you, Maeve.”
You delight in watching the way her black eyes seem to sparkle at the praise.
“Cheering people up is mere child’s play to me,” she says. “Well then, I hope you get some good rest tonight.”
[[“A good night to you as well, Maeve.”|Chapter5Maeve5]]Even though you have mutually agreed to end the conversation here, a part of you seems unwilling to leave quite yet. You feel… content. Content with even just standing here, side by side, enjoying a calm summer’s night. You feel warm, even though Maeve’s body doesn’t emit any particular warmth. You feel safe, even though you could be discovered at any moment. You feel happy, even despite today’s events.
Once you’re alone again, all of that might vanish with Maeve. Seeing her but once a week for an hour at night suddenly seems like a most cruel arrangement.
You glance up at her. She also still hasn’t moved, though her eyes are closed. It looks like she’s meditating; you wonder what she’s thinking about. Slowly, a sharp-toothed grin spreads across her face.
“You’re staring quite intently there, $playername. Not that I mind.” She opens one eye to look at you.
“I was just wondering what you were doing,” you say. “Don’t want you falling asleep in the middle of the castle.”
“Ah, I was just trying to commit this to memory. The smells and the sounds.” She looks at you. “The feelings.”
Something warm spreads through your chest. “I suppose getting to leave your grove for a bit means a lot to you. Do you like it here?”
“Oh, not at all. But I like you.”
Maeve grins cheekily before leaning down a bit. You are eye to eye and her face is a little bit too close to be called a proper conversational distance. As you wonder about what she’s trying to do, she suddenly disappears in front of you, leaving you standing there staring at nothing. You reach out a hand to touch where she had just been, but your fingers only find warm summer air.
You laugh quietly to yourself as you wonder whether that was just normal fae behaviour of whether she was trying to tease you. Either way, it left you feeling amused and light-hearted, so it wasn’t a bad way to say goodbye.
It would be an overstatement to say you walk the way back to your room with a skip in your step, but you do certainly feel quite a bit lighter than when you came here. Not only did you learn some interesting things, but Maeve truly did manage to cheer you up. Turns out she’s not just a good teacher, but good company as well.
As you return to your room, the only thing that’s got you feeling down at that moment is the knowledge that you can’t see Maeve whenever you like, and that she’s bound to a singular location.
[[Though if you ever got your hand on a sapling from her grove, maybe you could secretly plant one in Grahm territory.|Chapter5MaeveEnd]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, so you could spend it lying about in bed without a problem, but yesterday’s events still linger in your mind. An idea occurs to you - a way to spend your day and hopefully get some more answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Today though might be the perfect opportunity - and possibly the only opportunity you’ll get for a while.
Now might seem like an inopportune time to leave the castle, and Az’Lean, behind, but after the talk you had with Maeve yesterday, you feel like you have to do this while you can.
Besides, it might be good for Az’Lean to have a day to himself without having to worry about whether you are an impostor or not. There will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father anyway. It should be fine to take a short trip like this - if you leave now you can easily be back by nightfall. You might not be able to make it to your meeting with Maeve, but you already saw her last night.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe you shouldn’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
With the decision made, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head over to Az’Lean’s room. You catch him just as he is leaving.
“The roses are in full bloom today,” you say by way of greeting.
His face brightens as soon as you do, and he smiles in relief. “You remembered the code phrase!”
“Of course. It’s no good if you were to suspect me of being an impostor every time we saw each other, so I made sure not to forget.” You tap your temple with a smile.
“Thank you, $playername. I appreciate that a lot. You look like you are heading out, got any plans for today?”
“I’ll take a short trip to Grahm territory, just for today. With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit my parents again, so I thought I should do it while I can,” you explain. “As long as you don’t need me here today, that is.”
Az’Lean waves your concerns away. “I’ll be fine. I think you have the right idea to get out of here for a day, as long as you make sure you’re back by tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, that I can promise.”
“Then it’s all good. Besides, you’re right that we’ll be even busier from now on. Reinforcing the border, and now updating the castle’s security as well - we have our work cut out for us. Not to mention the Summer Solstice is coming up soon, so we’ll have to start preparing for the festival.” He rubs his eyes, clearly not looking forward to all the work that comes with it.
“I completely forgot about that but you’re right, the month is almost over.” You scrunch your face up in thought, counting the days in your head. Today is the 26th of the Cherry Moon, and the Summer Solstice is on the 8th of the Midday Moon, so that’s only eleven more days.
“Be that as it may, don’t let me keep you, $playername. Greet Lady and Sir Grahm from me, while you’re there.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow, Az’Lean.”
You take a bow before continuing on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun just as much.
A small smile lingers on your face as you think about seeing your parents, and if your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 10>>\
Your top priority should be to calm down and not act irrationally. It makes sense to seek out Thianne - she is by far the most grounding and collected person you know. Anybody else might just make your anxiety worse, but you know Thianne won’t pry if you don’t want to talk, and you know she won’t lose her cool if you do.
You’re out of the door of your room in seconds, heading towards the library on instinct. There’s no way that Thianne has already left the castle, not with everything that happened today. Az’Lean did pretty much task her with an investigation, and you know she won’t rest until it is complete.
The thought that she might be in the magical laboratory, examining the changeling corpse, is concerning, but you just have to hope that you won’t have to see it. There’s no harm in seeing whether you can just catch her in the library instead.
As it turns out, you don’t even have to go that far. You’ve barely taken a single step on the staircase leading up as the hem of Thianne’s cloak appears in your vision. Your gaze follows it upwards - Thianne is standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at you.
“Thianne,” you say, breathless even though you’ve not walked far, “I was looking for you.”
“Why?” she asks, continuing down the steps until she is right in front of you.
You start fidgeting a little - this isn’t exactly easy, and Thianne’s impassive face doesn’t help. “I need help. After what happened today, I am a little…beside myself. I hoped you could…”
Could what? The words fail you, but it seems to be exactly what needs to happen.
Thianne pinches the bridge of her nose as though annoyed, but she descends the last few steps so she’s next to you. “Let’s get you out of here, $playername.” She doesn’t meet your gaze as she says it, but her tone is gentle.
You follow her as she leads you downstairs, through the side entrance of the castle and out into the city.
“Are we going to your place?” you ask, taking in the fresh evening air. It helps to clear your head a bit, maybe you just needed to get out of the castle for a bit.
“Yes,” Thianne says while stretching her arms over her head. “I was headin’ home anyway, so why not take you with me.”
<<if $Thiannehome == "yes">>You have already been to Thianne’s place once before, so this feels familiar and comfortable. As you walk there, you soon recognize the alley, and then the building. Thianne ushers you inside, up the ladder, and motions for you to sit down near the fireplace as she lights it. She keeps moving about even as you sit down.
<<else>>Thianne leads you across the market place. She stops in front of a small timbered house, sandwiched in between two larger ones. Two flower boxes full of lavender stand on either side of the door.
“I live on the upper floor,” Thianne explains as she fishes a key out of the pocket of her cloak. She opens the door and reveals a small entrance area filled with coats, boots, and a lot of different bags and baskets. On the left is another door with a nameplate on it, and on the right is a ladder that leads upwards to a trap door.
Thianne starts climbing the ladder, pushing the trap door open once she is at the top. It creaks loudly. “It’s a bit inconvenient, sorry,” she says as she leans down and signals you to follow her.
“It does have a certain charm about it though,” you say as you follow her up.
As you peek your head into the upper floor with curiosity, you immediately spot the cosiest fireplace you have ever seen across from you. It is made from red bricks, dried flowers and colourful chimes are hung above it, two chairs filled with pillows and blankets stand on either side of it, and a soft-looking burgundy rug is rolled out in front of it. The fire is unlit but there is a small pot suspended above, and it smells like anise and cinnamon.
You climb through the opening and allow yourself to look around some more. There is a small kitchen area next to the fireplace, a round table with three chairs, and stacks upon stacks of books. Old candles are stuck to the table, the counter, and the floor - red wax pooling around them like dried blood. From the rafters above you hangs a large scroll that looks like it would reach down to the wooden floor if unrolled.
There is one small, round window, and a door that certainly leads to a different part of Thianne’s home.Thianne motions for you to sit down by the fireplace while she lights it. Even after you have made yourself comfortable, she keeps moving around. <<endif>>\
Thianne takes off her cloak and starts rummaging around.
“If you need somethin’ to calm you down, I could brew us some tea. I’m not great with physical contact, but I could get you a nice cosy blanket? That might be comfortin’.” You haven’t ever heard her sound this unsure and realise that she must feel quite put on the spot by your request for companionship.
“Don’t worry about it, Thianne. I didn’t expect you to hold my hand or anything,” you are quick to clarify. “That said…”
[[“A cup of tea would be nice.”|Chapter5Thianne2A]]
[[“I’ll take the blanket.”|Chapter5Thianne2B]]
[[“Both would be best.”|Chapter5Thianne2C]]“Sounds good. I’ll get you some in a second.”
As Thianne busies herself with brewing tea, you relax further into the chair, eagerly soaking up the cosy atmosphere. Everything is warm and homely, and you can’t help but feel exhaustion setting in, now that you’ve managed to calm your anxiety at least somewhat. Turns out breathing heavily is quite taxing.
It doesn’t take long, and soon you are cradling a cup of chamomile tea in your hands.
“Thank you, Thianne,” you say as she takes a seat across from you with her own cup.
“You’re welcome. It seems like you’re under some distress, I’m guessin’. I don’t mind tryin’ to help, though I’m not the best person to talk about emotions with”, she says, shrugging slightly. “I can listen and give practical advice, but that’s about it.”
“That’s fine. I came here because I wanted some company, not because I expect you to sort out my feelings for me. I just- I just couldn’t bear to be alone just then. So you’ve already helped me, as it stands.”
Thianne looks you over, her amber eyes examining every little detail. “So what’s goin’ on? Did the attack earlier leave you… I’m lookin’ for a delicate way to say this…rattled?”
You shrug a bit awkwardly. “Something like that. It was a shock to have your identity stolen and then watch a look-alike of you die and turn into a changeling.”
“I can imagine that,” Thianne says. “It is a strange thing to happen in general. But I’m guessin’ you don’t really wanna talk about that and relive it.”
“Maybe not right now,” you admit.
“Then… how can I help?” Thianne asks with a frown. “I’m not sure what the correct procedure is. Should I tell you that everything is goin’ to be fine? Dependin’ on what you’re worried about, your worries might be well-founded.”
She’s so bad at being comforting that it’s almost endearing. “Well, have <i>you</i> ever felt anxious before? What would you do if something happened that would make you feel…unsure about yourself and your place in the world?”
To your surprise, Thianne answers your question with a wry grin. “That’s my secret, $playername, I’m always anxious. Always overthinking, always catastrophizin’. But that’s the thing, I see it for what it is. So I know I’m bein’ stupid and I just ignore it.”
You perk up at that, interested. “And how do you do that? How do you ignore your worries?”
Thianne scrunches up her face, thinking deeply. “I guess I just don’t really care about what happens. I ask myself, what’s the worst that can happen? And if it’s not gonna kill me, then why care?”
You think about your own situation. What would the worst-case scenario be? Being found out and exiled? Getting into a fight you can’t win?
“What if it could kill you? Or what if it made you lose the people and the things that you love?”
Her eyes are on you immediately, incredibly focused and sharp. “Well, then that’s an actual threat. It wouldn’t be overthinkin’, figuring out how to handle something like that. So what I would then do is eliminate that threat.”
You realise that you need to watch what you say. Thianne is incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable. Even if she says that she’s not good at parsing emotions, you have no doubt that she’d be able to deduce that you’re not telling her something. She might even be able to deduce that it has something to do with seeing that changeling, and if she cared to investigate further, it’d only be a matter of time before she reached the truth.
“I think it's a mixture of both. As Champion, the worst case scenario of anything that’s happening will always be either me or Az’Lean dying. But that doesn’t mean it’s likely to happen and I might be catastrophizing by thinking that it will,” you say. It’s not untrue, you’re just not mentioning that there’s an even larger problem resting on your shoulders.
Thianne’s gaze softens. “In that case, I think it’s perfectly normal to feel that way every now and then. The only thing you can do is get more confident in your abilities and those of the people around you. I mean, I also worry about what might happen if the castle were to be attacked, but I know my magic is powerful. If I were you, I’d trust in your and Az’Lean’s abilities, and just make sure that you’re as prepared as you can be. And those days when you do feel anxious…”
She hesitates a little. “You can seek support. Like right now. From others, or from me. I wouldn’t mind.”
You can feel yourself growing warmer, and it’s not just from the tea. Thianne really <i>does</i> care about you, doesn’t she?
If you told her the truth, maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d be able to help you. You doubt that she would just sell you out. Despite how aloof she might seem at times, she’s anything but heartless.
[[Maybe you should tell Thianne everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Thianne3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Thianne3B]]“Sounds good. I’ll get one for you.”
As Thianne begins searching for the softest blanket she owns, you relax further into the chair, eagerly soaking up the cosy atmosphere. Everything is warm and homely, and you can’t help but feel exhaustion setting in, now that you’ve managed to calm your anxiety at least somewhat. Turns out breathing heavily is quite taxing.
It doesn’t take long, and soon a worn but incredibly soft red blanket is dropped off in your lap. You proceed to wrap it around your shoulders, marvelling at the texture and the weight.
“Thank you, Thianne,” you say as she takes a seat across from you.
“You’re welcome. It seems like you’re under some distress, I’m guessin’. I don’t mind tryin’ to help, though I’m not the best person to talk about emotions with”, she says, shrugging slightly. “I can listen and give practical advice, but that’s about it.”
“That’s fine. I came here because I wanted some company, not because I expect you to sort out my feelings for me. I just- I just couldn’t bear to be alone just then. So you’ve already helped me, as it stands.”
Thianne looks you over, her amber eyes examining every little detail. “So what’s goin’ on? Did the attack earlier leave you… I’m lookin’ for a delicate way to say this…rattled?”
You shrug a bit awkwardly. “Something like that. It was a shock to have your identity stolen and then watch a look-alike of you die and turn into a changeling.”
“I can imagine that,” Thianne says. “It is a strange thing to happen in general. But I’m guessin’ you don’t really wanna talk about that and relive it.”
“Maybe not right now,” you admit.
“Then… how can I help?” Thianne asks with a frown. “I’m not sure what the correct procedure is. Should I tell you that everything is goin’ to be fine? Dependin’ on what you’re worried about, your worries might be well-founded.”
She’s so bad at being comforting that it’s almost endearing. “Well, have <i>you</i> ever felt anxious before? What would you do if something happened that would make you feel… unsure about yourself and your place in the world?”
To your surprise, Thianne answers your question with a wry grin. “That’s my secret, $playername, I’m always anxious. Always overthinking, always catastrophizin’. But that’s the thing, I see it for what it is. So I know I’m bein’ stupid and I just ignore it.”
You perk up at that, interested. “And how do you do that? How do you ignore your worries?”
Thianne scrunches up her face, thinking deeply. “I guess I just don’t really care about what happens. I ask myself, what’s the worst that can happen? And if it’s not gonna kill me, then why care?”
You think about your own situation. What would the worst-case scenario be? Being found out and exiled? Getting into a fight you can’t win?
“What if it could kill you? Or what if it made you lose the people and the things that you love?”
Her eyes are on you immediately, incredibly focused and sharp. “Well, then that’s an actual threat. It wouldn’t be overthinkin’, figuring out how to handle something like that. So what I would then do is eliminate that threat.”
You realise that you need to watch what you say. Thianne is incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable. Even if she says that she’s not good at parsing emotions, you have no doubt that she’d be able to deduce that you’re not telling her something. She might even be able to deduce that it has something to do with seeing that changeling, and if she cared to investigate further, it’d only be a matter of time before she reached the truth.
“I think it's a mixture of both. As Champion, the worst case scenario of anything that’s happening will always be either me or Az’Lean dying. But that doesn’t mean it’s likely to happen and I might be catastrophizing by thinking that it will,” you say. It’s not untrue, you’re just not mentioning that there’s an even larger problem resting on your shoulders.
Thianne’s gaze softens. “In that case, I think it’s perfectly normal to feel that way every now and then. The only thing you can do is get more confident in your abilities and those of the people around you. I mean, I also worry about what might happen if the castle were to be attacked, but I know my magic is powerful. If I were you, I’d trust in your and Az’Lean’s abilities, and just make sure that you’re as prepared as you can be. And those days when you do feel anxious…”
She hesitates a little. “You can seek support. Like right now. From others, or from me. I wouldn’t mind.”
You can feel yourself growing warmer, and it’s not just from the blanket. Thianne really <i>does</i> care about you, doesn’t she?
If you told her the truth, maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d be able to help you. You doubt that she would just sell you out. Despite how aloof she might seem at times, she’s anything but heartless.
[[Maybe you should tell Thianne everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Thianne3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Thianne3B]]“Sounds good. I’ll get you both.”
As Thianne begins brewing tea and searching for the softest blanket she owns, you relax further into the chair, eagerly soaking up the cosy atmosphere. Everything is warm and homely, and you can’t help but feel exhaustion setting in, now that you’ve managed to calm your anxiety at least somewhat. Turns out breathing heavily is quite taxing.
It doesn’t take long, and soon a worn but incredibly soft red blanket is dropped off in your lap. You proceed to wrap it around your shoulders, marvelling at the texture and the weight. Next, you are handed a cup of steaming hot chamomile tea.
“Thank you, Thianne,” you say as she takes a seat across from you with her own cup.
“You’re welcome. It seems like you’re under some distress, I’m guessin’. I don’t mind tryin’ to help, though I’m not the best person to talk about emotions with”, she says, shrugging slightly. “I can listen and give practical advice, but that’s about it.”
“That’s fine. I came here because I wanted some company, not because I expect you to sort out my feelings for me. I just- I just couldn’t bear to be alone just then. So you’ve already helped me, as it stands.”
Thianne looks you over, her amber eyes examining every little detail. “So what’s goin’ on? Did the attack earlier leave you… I’m lookin’ for a delicate way to say this…rattled?”
You shrug a bit awkwardly. “Something like that. It was a shock to have your identity stolen and then watch a look-alike of you die and turn into a changeling.”
“I can imagine that,” Thianne says. “It is a strange thing to happen in general. But I’m guessin’ you don’t really wanna talk about that and relive it.”
“Maybe not right now,” you admit.
“Then…how can I help?” Thianne asks with a frown. “I’m not sure what the correct procedure is. Should I tell you that everything is goin’ to be fine? Dependin’ on what you’re worried about, your worries might be well-founded.”
She’s so bad at being comforting that it’s almost endearing. “Well, have <i>you</i> ever felt anxious before? What would you do if something happened that would make you feel… unsure about yourself and your place in the world?”
To your surprise, Thianne answers your question with a wry grin. “That’s my secret, $playername, I’m always anxious. Always overthinking, always catastrophizin’. But that’s the thing, I see it for what it is. So I know I’m bein’ stupid and I just ignore it.”
You perk up at that, interested. “And how do you do that? How do you ignore your worries?”
Thianne scrunches up her face, thinking deeply. “I guess I just don’t really care about what happens. I ask myself, what’s the worst that can happen? And if it’s not gonna kill me, then why care?”
You think about your own situation. What would the worst-case scenario be? Being found out and exiled? Getting into a fight you can’t win?
“What if it could kill you? Or what if it made you lose the people and the things that you love?”
Her eyes are on you immediately, incredibly focused and sharp. “Well, then that’s an actual threat. It wouldn’t be overthinkin’, figuring out how to handle something like that. So what I would then do is eliminate that threat.”
You realise that you need to watch what you say. Thianne is incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable. Even if she says that she’s not good at parsing emotions, you have no doubt that she’d be able to deduce that you’re not telling her something. She might even be able to deduce that it has something to do with seeing that changeling, and if she cared to investigate further, it’d only be a matter of time before she reached the truth.
“I think it's a mixture of both. As Champion, the worst case scenario of anything that’s happening will always be either me or Az’Lean dying. But that doesn’t mean it’s likely to happen and I might be catastrophizing by thinking that it will,” you say. It’s not untrue, you’re just not mentioning that there’s an even larger problem resting on your shoulders.
Thianne’s gaze softens. “In that case, I think it’s perfectly normal to feel that way every now and then. The only thing you can do is get more confident in your abilities and those of the people around you. I mean, I also worry about what might happen if the castle were to be attacked, but I know my magic is powerful. If I were you, I’d trust in your and Az’Lean’s abilities, and just make sure that you’re as prepared as you can be. And those days when you do feel anxious…”
She hesitates a little. “You can seek support. Like right now. From others, or from me. I wouldn’t mind.”
You can feel yourself growing warmer, and it’s not just from the tea and blanket. Thianne really <i>does</i> care about you, doesn’t she?
If you told her the truth, maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d be able to help you. You doubt that she would just sell you out. Despite how aloof she might seem at times, she’s anything but heartless.
[[Maybe you should tell Thianne everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Thianne3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Thianne3B]]As the idea forms itself in your head, you immediately stop yourself. Even if you figure you need to come forward with the truth eventually, is today the day? Are you sure now is the right moment?
You try to imagine how Thianne might react.
On one hand, Thianne is a very collected person. She probably wouldn’t freak out and you’d be able to have a reasonable conversation with her. She’d understand that you were raised as a human and have no affiliation to the fae. You don’t think she would blame you. On the other hand, you know how loyal she is to Az’Lean. She hasn’t known you long by comparison. So if she thought even for a moment that you might be a threat, she wouldn’t hesitate to report you. A fae living in Gaiapeia is a crime, simple as that. The question you really need to ask yourself is: does Thianne care about you enough to commit a crime for you?
You can’t answer that with a confident yes. You’re tentative friends at best. Do you really want to jeopardise the start of something more between you by opening up to her too soon?
Telling her the truth is a risk. But if you wait too long, she might be able to find it out for herself. You know she’s fully capable of that if she cared to investigate.
Is now really the time to tell her? Are you certain that it’s the right decision?
[[Yes. Tell her.|Chapter5ThianneTruth1]]
[[No. Don’t tell her.|Chapter5Thianne3B]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
You shouldn’t tell her - at least not right now. You’ve only known each other for two weeks and you barely even know what Thianne’s stance on the fae is. What if she harbours some deep seated grudge against them? Or what if you’ve been vastly overestimating how kindly she views you? There’s no way you can be certain that she won’t immediately turn you in.
This conversation is starting to hit a bit too close to home. It would be better to switch to talking about something else entirely.
“Thank you, Thianne. That’s very reassuring to know. These past two weeks have been a lot, but it’s great to know that there are people I can rely on. How are you doing? I’m sure you’ve been very busy with organising the mass production of mabs.”
If Thianne noticed your abrupt change of topic, she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she just rests her head on her hand, looking utterly done with the world.
“It’s been one useless meeting after another. I get the concerns about regulations and costs - the magical barrier devices are not only dangerous in the wrong hands, but also valuable because of their components alone - but the way the council drags out every little decision makes it seem like they are against usin’ them entirely. What if the Wild Hunt appears in another territory? I’m not ridin’ to the edge of the kingdom to install them myself <i>again</i>.”
It seems like you chose the correct topic; Thianne seems to have quite a few frustrations to vent. You are more than happy to listen for now, it helps distract you somewhat from the day’s events, even though the border situation is a worrying problem in itself.
“You’d think the king would be able to decide on such pressing issues by himself,” Thianne continues. “Some days I regret becoming a member of the council. Not worth it.”
“How did you become one, anyway? Aside from Az’Lean, they all seem to be around King Az’Marn’s age, if not older.” You look at Thianne - she’s definitely somewhere around your age and her shortness likely makes her look even younger.
“Well, I qualify for it. I am an expert in my field, a member of the royal family invited me, and I regularly make helpful contributions. Az’Lean likely only invited me so he had someone to back up his opinions,” she says with a shrug. “The Gods know he needs it.”
You chuckle. “That’s certainly true. It seems like he disagrees with his father on plenty of things. I’m not a member of the council, so I can’t really help with that, but just sitting at the table with you two makes his position look stronger, so I don’t mind doing it. Even if it is as boring as Az’Lean warned me it would be.”
The two of you keep lamenting about the nature of council meetings, and soon enough any talk about your doubts and worries is long forgotten. Thianne does eventually ask once more how you are holding up, but at this point it’s easy enough to tell her that you are fine. It isn’t even particularly a lie, as right now you do feel quite a bit more at peace. How you’ll fare once you’re back in your room, alone with your thoughts, is another matter entirely. But right now, you’re holding on.
It is a bit of a walk to get back to the castle from Thianne’s place, so you don’t overextend your stay.
“Thank you for having me, Thianne. I really needed that,” you say as Thianne accompanies you down the ladder and to the front door.
“I expect you to return the favour if I ever need something like this,” she says and although her tone is harsh, you know what she means is ‘anytime’.
The way you part ways feels heartfelt enough, and when you return to your room, you feel a lot better than when you had left it. You have managed to return to your normal state of being by seeking support from Thianne, and you should be content with that, but truthfully, your normal state of being does not feel all that great. Dread and doubt still lingers, like a pit deep within your stomach, always threatening to grow and consume all these moments of reprieve and peace until none are left.
You managed to get through the day, but not much more. It might feel like you have grown closer to Thianne, but have you really? Or is it only a superficial bond based on lies?
It is almost with grim determination that you go to bed. You made the choice not to tell her, so you damn well might as well be confident in it. Who knows how much worse everything could be if you had told her the truth?
There’s no point thinking about it, so you don’t.
[[The sun sets, the day ends, and your life continues.|Chapter5ThianneLie]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, so you could spend it lying about in bed without a problem, but yesterday’s events still linger in your mind. An idea occurs to you - a way to spend your day and hopefully get some more answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Today though might be the perfect opportunity - and possibly the only opportunity you’ll get for a while.
Now might seem like an inopportune time to leave the castle, and Az’Lean, behind, but after the talk you had with Thianne yesterday, you feel like you have to do this while you can.
Besides, it might be good for Az’Lean to have a day to himself without having to worry about whether you are an impostor or not. There will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father anyway. It should be fine to take a short trip like this - if you leave now you can easily be back by nightfall.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe you shouldn’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
With the decision made, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head over to Az’Lean’s room. You catch him just as he is leaving.
“The roses are in full bloom today,” you say by way of greeting.
His face brightens as soon as you do, and he smiles in relief. “You remembered the code phrase!”
“Of course. It’s no good if you were to suspect me of being an impostor every time we saw each other, so I made sure not to forget.” You tap your temple with a smile.
“Thank you, $playername. I appreciate that a lot. You look like you are heading out, got any plans for today?”
“I’ll take a short trip to Grahm territory, just for today. With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit my parents again, so I thought I should do it while I can,” you explain. “As long as you don’t need me here today, that is.”
Az’Lean waves your concerns away. “I’ll be fine. I think you have the right idea to get out of here for a day, as long as you make sure you’re back by tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, that I can promise.”
“Then it’s all good. Besides, you’re right that we’ll be even busier from now on. Reinforcing the border, and now updating the castle’s security as well - we have our work cut out for us. Not to mention the Summer Solstice is coming up soon, so we’ll have to start preparing for the festival.” He rubs his eyes, clearly not looking forward to all the work that comes with it.
“I completely forgot about that but you’re right, the month is almost over.” You scrunch your face up in thought, counting the days in your head. Today is the 26th of the Cherry Moon, and the Summer Solstice is on the 8th of the Midday Moon, so that’s only eleven more days.
“Be that as it may, don’t let me keep you, $playername. Greet Lady and Sir Grahm from me, while you’re there.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow, Az’Lean.”
You take a bow before continuing on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun just as much.
A small smile lingers on your face as you think about seeing your parents, and if your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, so you could spend it lying about in bed without a problem, but yesterday’s events still linger in your mind. An idea occurs to you - a way to spend your day and hopefully get some more answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Today though might be the perfect opportunity - and possibly the only opportunity you’ll get for a while.
Now might seem like an inopportune time to leave the castle, and Az’Lean, behind, but after the talk you had with Thianne yesterday, you're still itching for the opportunity to truly open up to someone. You weren't able to be truthful with Thianne, but you'll have to be with your parents.
Besides, it might be good for Az’Lean to have a day to himself without having to worry about whether you are an impostor or not. There will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father anyway. It should be fine to take a short trip like this - if you leave now you can easily be back by nightfall.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe you shouldn’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
With the decision made, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head over to Az’Lean’s room. You catch him just as he is leaving.
“The roses are in full bloom today,” you say by way of greeting.
His face brightens as soon as you do, and he smiles in relief. “You remembered the code phrase!”
“Of course. It’s no good if you were to suspect me of being an impostor every time we saw each other, so I made sure not to forget.” You tap your temple with a smile.
“Thank you, $playername. I appreciate that a lot. You look like you are heading out, got any plans for today?”
“I’ll take a short trip to Grahm territory, just for today. With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit my parents again, so I thought I should do it while I can,” you explain. “As long as you don’t need me here today, that is.”
Az’Lean waves your concerns away. “I’ll be fine. I think you have the right idea to get out of here for a day, as long as you make sure you’re back by tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, that I can promise.”
“Then it’s all good. Besides, you’re right that we’ll be even busier from now on. Reinforcing the border, and now updating the castle’s security as well - we have our work cut out for us. Not to mention the Summer Solstice is coming up soon, so we’ll have to start preparing for the festival.” He rubs his eyes, clearly not looking forward to all the work that comes with it.
“I completely forgot about that but you’re right, the month is almost over.” You scrunch your face up in thought, counting the days in your head. Today is the 26th of the Cherry Moon, and the Summer Solstice is on the 8th of the Midday Moon, so that’s only eleven more days.
“Be that as it may, don’t let me keep you, $playername. Greet Lady and Sir Grahm from me, while you’re there.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow, Az’Lean.”
You take a bow before continuing on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun just as much.
A small smile lingers on your face as you think about seeing your parents, and if your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]<<set $lie to $lie - 1>>\
<<set $Thianneknows to "yes">>\
You start wringing your hands, gaze fixed intently on the fireplace between you.
“I need to tell you something,” you say slowly. It’s not your intention to let the words hang in the air and build suspense, you simply need to force them out before you have the chance to regret them. “It- It is very difficult for me to talk about, and I need you to promise me to let me finish before you say anything.”
This much you need from Thianne. If she interrupts you, even just to ask a follow-up question, you suspect you will start to crumble, to back-pedal. No, you need to get through everything in one go.
Thianne looks at you with narrow eyes. There’s some suspicion shining within them and it doesn’t bode well. “I can listen, no problem. But I already don’t like where this is goin’, $playername.”
That doesn’t inspire much confidence, truly. Thianne’s expression is guarded, and it’s like being thrown into cold water when you realise that you’ve only known her for two weeks and now you’re doing <i>this</i>. It is most surely a mistake, but you feel in your heart that you have committed to it. No choice but to push through and accept whatever follows.
You take a deep breath and steel yourself. You are a knight, for the love of the Gods, you can do this. You just have to do it.
“Ever since I was young, I wanted to be a knight, like my father. Since the prince and I are the same age, I also always wanted to be his Champion. Two weeks ago, my life-long dream finally came true! I know you weren’t there when I was pronounced Champion, but I met you just the day after. During the celebration, sometime after midnight, I had to step out to get some air.”
The words all but rush out of your mouth, as if they were a caged beast that was finally let loose. You feel yourself losing control of the situation, but it’s too late anyway. The words just keep coming.
“I went to the castle courtyard, and someone else was there. It was a woman, but she wasn’t human. She knew me, and she wanted to speak to me.”
Thianne’s jaw is clenched shut, but she continues listening.
“I didn’t trust her, since she was obviously fae, but she really did know my name and who I was. Then she said something else, about me…”
It’s like you hit some sort of hurdle, and the words have to squeeze past a tight lock. Your heart is threatening to give out under the strain of beating so quickly, and your tongue feels dry as sandpaper, but you keep on pushing, fighting through it.
“She said… She said… She said that I, $playername Grahm, was actually a changeling, smuggled into the family at birth. I didn’t believe a word of it, and she disappeared again. The next day, I woke up in the barracks. I was confused, half believing that everything was just a dream or a drunken hallucination. That said, I couldn’t ignore the doubts and fears. What if she was right?”
Thianne simply nods along, resting her head on her hand almost lazily.
You take another deep breath. Just a bit more, then you’ve gotten it over with. Just one more push.
“So then at night… At night I- I- I got in front of a mirror, and- and- and-”
Air rushes into your lungs to fill the void, it’s like a spark goes off inside you and you are about to explode. A bit of mania slips into your voice and you feel the urge to laugh at the absurdity of all this.
“It’s true, Thianne, it’s true! What she said! That I am a…changeling…a fae. But I didn’t know! I didn’t know and you have to believe me! I grew up like a normal human and I feel like a human and there was never anything I wanted more than to be a knight. I promise you that. I really don’t know what to do, but you’re smart and reliable, so I felt that I could tell you. I am scared. Of what I am, and what it means. And I haven’t told anyone else. But I needed to tell someone.”
Thianne is silent for a long time and you find yourself subconsciously holding your breath. How will she react?
After what feels like an eternity, she finally lets out a long sigh. “Great. You’ve told me. Gotta admit though, I have no clue what to do about this either. At least it’s good that you haven’t told anyone else about this. If it had been anyone else, it’d have gone poorly, I imagine. I, personally, don’t really care about what species you are. What I do care about, though, is deceivin’ Az’Lean and breakin’ the law. So. I also don’t know what to do, and to be frank, I wish you hadn’t told me.”
You feel yourself deflate a little. This is a very luke-warm response, but you’re not sure what else you expected. On one hand, you’re relieved that Thianne seems to accept you and doesn’t feel any negative feelings towards you in particular. On the other hand, it doesn’t sound like she’ll support you if what you’re doing goes against what’s best for Az’Lean or the kingdom. That much you did expect.
“That makes sense,” you say, fidgeting in your seat. “I’m sorry that I’ve burdened you with this.”
Thianne frowns. “‘Burdened’ is…exactly the right word for it. No matter though, it’s not your fault you were born this way and that this was sprung upon you. Let me say two things though: First, Az’Lean has a vendetta against the fae, and that might include you. Second, I won’t lie on your behalf. If anyone asks me, that’s that.”
Your throat feels too dry to speak, so you simply nod.
Thianne stands up and you get the strong feeling that you are expected to do so as well. It seems like you’re no longer welcome.
“My honest suggestion would be to quit your position as Champion, return to Grahm territory, and live a quiet life,” she says as she leads you to the trap door and down the ladder. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, so that might be the smartest thing to do. Alternatively, you could tell Az’Lean the truth and accept his verdict on the matter.”
She looks at you intently. “If you stick around, there almost certainly will be a point when I feel that revealing your identity might be necessary. So if you do not tell Az’Lean the truth, I’ll eventually do it, even if it pains me. I hope you understand, $playername.”
You can feel your heart sink. She’s giving you an ultimatum - a most painful ultimatum.
[[“I’ll think about what you said, Thianne. Thank you.” You mean it. She is probably right in her assessment of the situation.|Chapter5ThianneTruth2A]]
[[“I’ll think about what you said, Thianne. Thank you.” You’re lying. It was a mistake telling her the truth, but you don’t give a shit about her ultimatum.|Chapter5ThianneTruth2B]]
[[“I’ll think about what you said, Thianne. Thank you.” You secretly hope that you can win her over, and that she’ll support you instead of Az’Lean.|Chapter5ThianneTruth2C]]<<set $instability to $instability + 2>>\
The walk back to the castle is nothing short of painful. You’d gone to Thianne for support, and while you can’t begrudge her for her advice, you had hoped for more. She said it herself: she knows it isn’t your fault that you were born like this and that you were raised without knowing the truth, and yet she still expects you to just give up on the life you have here? It might be the right thing to do, the thing that is least likely to cause harm - but it still feels unfair. Even if Thianne is right, and a part of you knows that she has a point, you don’t feel good about being forced to make this decision.
Leaving, or telling Az’Lean the truth. You don’t know which is worse, but you know you’ll have to pick one of them sooner or later. If you tell Az’Lean the truth yourself, there’s still a chance that he’ll react mercifully. If Thianne tells him, he won’t know that you weren’t trying to deliberately deceive him.
If you felt like you were under pressure before, it doesn’t compare to the way you are feeling right now. You try your best not to blame Thianne for it. It is entirely within her right to not want to lie for you, and you are the one who put her in this position in the first place. You decided to tell her about it, and these are the consequences of your actions.
When you started walking, you felt turmoil. When you reach your room, there’s nothing left but numbness. Knowing that you only have two options left is weirdly freeing, and you allow yourself to stop thinking about it all. There’s nothing much more you can do at this point to turn this around.
[[You go to sleep feeling strangely detached.|Chapter5ThianneEnd]]On your way back to the castle, you find yourself constantly grinding your teeth. You’d gone to Thianne for support, and while you know she isn’t trying to be unfair to you, you can’t help but resent the way she reacted. She said it herself: she knows it isn’t your fault that you were born like this and that you were raised without knowing the truth, and yet she still expects you to just give up on the life you have here? It might be the right thing to do, the thing that is least likely to cause harm - but it still feels unfair. Is your happiness that irrelevant? You won’t accept that.
Leaving, or telling Az’Lean the truth. You don’t know which is worse, and you’re not about to make that decision just because Thianne told you to. There’s always some other way, some other thing you can do instead, her advice be damned.
You had felt anxious and alone before coming here, but now there’s a spark of resentment lingering deep within your chest - growing, festering. Should you blame Thianne for this? No, it is admittedly your fault for thinking you should tell her about this. But that doesn’t help with the disappointment and the realisation of how unfair your situation truly is.
After this, how can you trust someone else with your secret? You feel yourself grow more guarded than ever. You’ll have to be more careful in the future. You’ll have to take measures to protect yourself, should Thianne really report you to Az’Lean. You won’t let yourself be caught off guard, and you won’t let yourself be forced into an ultimatum.
When you started walking, you felt anger. When you reach your room, it has been hardened and crystallised into spite. In the end, it really doesn’t matter that you are a good person and a great knight - all that matters is that you are fae, and that the people here hate you, and that you’re not allowed to live in this kingdom. Those are the facts.
[[You go to sleep feeling strangely free of your previous worries, though you’re not sure it’s a good thing.|Chapter5ThianneEnd]]The walk back to the castle is nothing short of painful. You’d gone to Thianne for support, and while you can’t begrudge her for her advice, you had hoped for more. She said it herself: she knows it isn’t your fault that you were born like this and that you were raised without knowing the truth, and yet she still expects you to just give up on the life you have here? It might be the right thing to do, the thing that is least likely to cause harm - but it still feels unfair. Even if Thianne is right, and a part of you knows that she has a point, you don’t feel good about being forced to make this decision.
Leaving, or telling Az’Lean the truth. You don’t know which is worse, but you still have hope that there might be another option. Maybe, if you try hard enough, you could win Thianne over. If she truly understood that you aren’t a threat, that you are a good person and a great knight, she’d agree to keep your secret. You might not have earned it yet, but you want her to stick up for you, not just for Az’Lean.
You just have to have hope that you can win her over. You try not to blame Thianne for the way she reacted. It is entirely within her right to not want to lie for you, and you are the one who put her in this position in the first place. You decided to tell her about it, and this is the result. But that doesn’t mean it has to <i>stay</i> the result. As long as you still have time, you still have opportunities to turn this around.
When you started walking, you felt turmoil. When you reach your room, there’s a glimmer of hope still fighting strong, deep within you. Giving up is not an option, so you’ll just have to find another way - a way Thianne isn’t seeing.
[[You go to sleep with your mind running circles around the question of what you can do to convince Thianne.|Chapter5ThianneEnd]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 10>>\
It seems like the obvious choice to seek out Vynn. If there is anyone you can count on, it’s them. You have always been there for each other, and looking to them for comfort and support is almost second nature to you.
As you leave your room and make your way to their new quarters within the castle, you let your mind wander to the past, reflecting on the years you have spent with Vynn. A part of you wonders whether they ever suspected that something about you was different. Surely, if you start opening up to them more about your worries, Vynn will be quick to see through any lies you tell them. If you don’t want to entrust your secret to them, you’ll have to be careful.
When you arrive in front of their door, you feel oddly shaky. Never before have you felt anxious about seeing Vynn, never before have you worried about what they might think of you. Your secret is creating distance between you, and you despise it. Being with Vynn is supposed to be as natural as breathing, so then why are you so upset? Why are you considering turning around, dealing with this yourself?
The urge to just sit down on the floor right here is overwhelming, but you force yourself to slowly extend your hand and knock on the door. There, now that you’ve done it, there’s no going back.
The door opens almost immediately, as if Vynn has all but been waiting for you to show up. They’re still dressed in their armour, and you wonder whether the infiltration caused them a lot of extra work. You imagine there will be an investigation happening as to how the changeling got in here, as well as many additional patrols.
“$playername, is everything alright? You look like you’re about to keel over,” Vynn says as they usher you inside. Their chocolate brown eyes look tired, and you almost feel a little guilty for imposing on them, but then you notice that you’re still not breathing quite right and have to accept that you need help.
The inside of Vynn’s room is warm and bright, cosy in its chaos of clothing and blankets strewn about. It smells like cinnamon and ginger, and them.
“I’m a bit-” You are trying to find the right words, but struggle to express yourself properly. “I didn’t want to be alone, right now.”
Vynn pulls you along until you are both sitting on the edge of their bed, shoulder to shoulder. The mattress is worn-out and springy, but the covers are soft beneath your hands. Vynn turns to face you, concern written all over their face. Hesitantly, they extend a hand towards you.
“Would you like a hug, $playername? Tell me what you need.”
[[“A hug would be great.”|Chapter5Vynn2A]]
[[“Maybe hold my hand?”|Chapter5Vynn2B]]
[[“Thank you for the offer, but let’s just stick to talking.”|Chapter5Vynn2C]]Vynn’s arms immediately snake around you and they pull you close until your nose is buried in the crook of their neck. You can feel their warmth, their every breath, their heartbeat. Brown curls tickle your face, deceptively strong arms case you in safely, and your own hands find purchase on the leather of their armour.
You hear the faintest of melodies and realise that Vynn is humming softly. The tenderness is almost enough to make you tear up. This is a person who truly cares about you. This is a person who loves you, in whatever way that might be.
“Thank you,” you whisper, and Vynn squeezes you stronger in return.
For a while you stay like that, soaking up as much comfort as you can, before you feel like it has been enough. Vynn releases you slowly, and their eyes never leave you as you part.
“Did that help?” they ask as they make themselves comfortable on their bed, leaning against the headboard.
You slip off your boots and pull your legs up onto the bed so you sit in front of them, cross legged. “It did. Your hugs are the best, Vynn.”
They grin, but there isn’t much levity behind it. “You know, if it were up to me, we could meet up everyday just to hug. Though I have a feeling there was a reason you needed one. Mind telling me what’s up?”
You wring your hands, trying to figure out how much you can say. “That impostor from earlier just had me feeling all kinds of anxious. That someone could just infiltrate the castle and steal my identity like that…”
“Makes sense it would unsettle you. But…is that everything? Or did something else happen?” Vynn shoots you a knowing look.
You’re caught off guard for a moment. You didn't accidentally imply anything, did you? You don’t think so.
“What do you mean?” you ask, careful to keep your tone neutral.
Vynn shrugs. “It’s just that I didn’t think this would affect you that much. You <i>live</i> for this, $playername. The danger, the heroics, defending Az’Lean against any threat imaginable. Sorry if I’m way off base, but I thought you’d be feeling…I don’t know, proud? Valued? Important?”
Ah, this is what you feared. Vynn knows you too well, and they won’t just offer you platitudes to make you feel better. They’ll want to dig deep, discover the root of the problem.
Your throat feels incredibly dry all of a sudden, but you try to play it off as best as you can.
“It’s just…they used my identity to cause harm. That’s…that’s what’s bothering me about all this. And the fact that they just up and died and we couldn’t get any answers! That’s cause for more than a little frustration, not to mention the uncertainty. How many other impostors could there be in this castle, and what might they be planning? It’s all just…upsetting.”
You can tell immediately that Vynn isn’t satisfied with that answer. You weren’t even lying, yet still they seem to know somehow that you’re not telling them everything.
“Right. Again, that’s a sensible reaction to have. But, you know, that’s the type of reaction I’d have. You thrive in danger. Knowing there’s a threat out there would normally motivate you. Instead of coming to me for support, you’d be patrolling the castle.” Vynn lets their head fall against the wall, gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, scratch that, you’d be at Az’Lean’s side right now.”
“He said I should rest for the remainder of the day. I got a bit banged up.”
Vynn’s gaze snaps back to you, and they lean forward, hands outstretched towards you. “Shit, are you okay?”
You awkwardly wave away their concern. “I took care of it, don’t worry.”
They let out a sigh, likely one of relief, and lean back again. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to get on your case about how you should be feeling right now. You’ve had a long day, you’re stressed, I get it. And I’m here to give you whatever help you need.”
“Thank you, Vynn. That means a lot to me.”
Vynn grins at you, and you can see that they are ready to drop it. They’d give you another hug if you asked. They’d go along with a change of topic.
But you know they’d also listen to whatever you had to tell them.
They already know something’s up.
So maybe…
[[Maybe you should tell Vynn everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Vynn3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Vynn3B]]“Of course, $playername. I can do that.”
Both of their hands find both of yours. Vynn halts for a moment, looking to you for permission. You nod slightly, and they begin taking off your gloves. There’s something vulnerable about your hands being exposed, you suddenly realise. You didn’t mean for this to be some grand, intimate gesture, but it feels a little like it.
Vynn’s hands hold firmly onto yours. Their hands are rough, both from fighting and playing the lute, but they are incredibly warm and firm. There is something grounding about them, like a promise that they would never let you go.
Slowly, Vynn uses their thumbs to rub soothing circles into your hands. The tenderness is almost enough to make you tear up. This is a person who truly cares about you. This is a person who loves you, in whatever way that might be.
“Thank you,” you whisper, and Vynn squeezes your hands in response.
For a while you stay like that, soaking up as much comfort as you can, before you feel like it has been enough. Vynn releases you slowly, and their eyes never leave you as you part.
“Did that help?” they ask as they make themselves comfortable on their bed, leaning against the headboard.
You slip off your boots and pull your legs up onto the bed so you sit in front of them, cross legged. “It did. You're really good at that, Vynn.”
They grin, but there isn’t much levity behind it. “You know, if it were up to me, we could meet up everyday just to hold hands. Though I have a feeling there was a reason you needed it. Mind telling me what’s up?”
You wring your hands, trying to figure out how much you can say. “That impostor from earlier just had me feeling all kinds of anxious. That someone could just infiltrate the castle and steal my identity like that…”
“Makes sense it would unsettle you. But…is that everything? Or did something else happen?” Vynn shoots you a knowing look.
You’re caught off guard for a moment. You didn't accidentally imply anything, did you? You don’t think so.
“What do you mean?” you ask, careful to keep your tone neutral.
Vynn shrugs. “It’s just that I didn’t think this would affect you that much. You <i>live</i> for this, $playername. The danger, the heroics, defending Az’Lean against any threat imaginable. Sorry if I’m way off base, but I thought you’d be feeling…I don’t know, proud? Valued? Important?”
Ah, this is what you feared. Vynn knows you too well, and they won’t just offer you platitudes to make you feel better. They’ll want to dig deep, discover the root of the problem.
Your throat feels incredibly dry all of a sudden, but you try to play it off as best as you can.
“It’s just…they used my identity to cause harm. That’s…that’s what’s bothering me about all this. And the fact that they just up and died and we couldn’t get any answers! That’s cause for more than a little frustration, not to mention the uncertainty. How many other impostors could there be in this castle, and what might they be planning? It’s all just…upsetting.”
You can tell immediately that Vynn isn’t satisfied with that answer. You weren’t even lying, yet still they seem to know somehow that you’re not telling them everything.
“Right. Again, that’s a sensible reaction to have. But, you know, that’s the type of reaction I’d have. You thrive in danger. Knowing there’s a threat out there would normally motivate you. Instead of coming to me for support, you’d be patrolling the castle.” Vynn lets their head fall against the wall, gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, scratch that, you’d be at Az’Lean’s side right now.”
“He said I should rest for the remainder of the day. I got a bit banged up.”
Vynn’s gaze snaps back to you, and they lean forward, hands outstretched towards you. “Shit, are you okay?”
You awkwardly wave away their concern. “I took care of it, don’t worry.”
They let out a sigh, likely one of relief, and lean back again. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to get on your case about how you should be feeling right now. You’ve had a long day, you’re stressed, I get it. And I’m here to give you whatever help you need.”
“Thank you, Vynn. That means a lot to me.”
Vynn grins at you, and you can see that they are ready to drop it. They’d hold your hand some more if you asked. They’d go along with a change of topic.
But you know they’d also listen to whatever you had to tell them.
They already know something’s up.
So maybe…
[[Maybe you should tell Vynn everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Vynn3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Vynn3B]]“Of course, $playername. I can do that. You know me, I’m great at talking.” Vynn grins as they make themselves comfortable on their bed, leaning against the headboard. “Though maybe I should be the one doing the listening, instead.”
“I suppose you won’t know how to cheer me up if I don’t tell you what’s bothering me,” you say, realising that it might not be as easy to articulate as you had first thought.
You slip off your boots and pull your legs up onto the bed so you sit in front of them, cross legged. “How about you start with talking about your day? I may need some time to…order my thoughts.”
Vynn nods solemnly. “If that’s what you need. It was a rather boring morning, just standard patrols and all that. Then, all of a sudden, the alarm goes off! I knew what that meant, of course. Intruders, or some other kind of threat. I tried not to care about it too much, no use in getting into a panic, right? But then I heard from this guy, Lester, that there was some impostor of <i>you</i> running around, and I knew I had to help. I’d be able to tell the difference between you and a fake quite easily, so I thought I might be needed.”
Vynn sounds as if they are telling a fairy tale as they talk, all soothing and melodic. It almost makes you able to ignore all the complicated emotions that are dredged up by talking about today’s events.
“Of course, once we all got there, it was pretty much over already. Still, I like to think I helped. Seeing that impostor of you was something else, though. I wonder how they would have tried to fool me - I doubt they were able to pull off a convincing impression of you.” Vynn laughs, though there isn’t much levity behind it.
You smile at their attempt to lighten the mood, though it must have come across as rather weak. Vynn instantly leans forward in concern.
“That’s why you’re here though, right? What happened today is…weighing on you? Mind telling me what’s up?”
You wring your hands, trying to figure out how much you can say. “That impostor from earlier just had me feeling all kinds of anxious. That someone could just infiltrate the castle and steal my identity like that…”
“Makes sense it would unsettle you. But…is that everything? Or did something else happen?” Vynn shoots you a knowing look.
You’re caught off guard for a moment. You didn't accidentally imply anything, did you? You don’t think so.
“What do you mean?” you ask, careful to keep your tone neutral.
Vynn shrugs. “It’s just that I didn’t think this would affect you that much. You <i>live</i> for this, $playername. The danger, the heroics, defending Az’Lean against any threat imaginable. Sorry if I’m way off base, but I thought you’d be feeling…I don’t know, proud? Valued? Important?”
Ah, this is what you feared. Vynn knows you too well, and they won’t just offer you platitudes to make you feel better. They’ll want to dig deep, discover the root of the problem.
Your throat feels incredibly dry all of a sudden, but you try to play it off as best as you can.
“It’s just…they used my identity to cause harm. That’s…that’s what’s bothering me about all this. And the fact that they just up and died and we couldn’t get any answers! That’s cause for more than a little frustration, not to mention the uncertainty. How many other impostors could there be in this castle, and what might they be planning? It’s all just…upsetting.”
You can tell immediately that Vynn isn’t satisfied with that answer. You weren’t even lying, yet still they seem to know somehow that you’re not telling them everything.
“Right. Again, that’s a sensible reaction to have. But, you know, that’s the type of reaction I’d have. You thrive in danger. Knowing there’s a threat out there would normally motivate you. Instead of coming to me for support, you’d be patrolling the castle.” Vynn lets their head fall against the wall, gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, scratch that, you’d be at Az’Lean’s side right now.”
“He said I should rest for the remainder of the day. I got a bit banged up.”
Vynn’s gaze snaps back to you, and they lean forward, hands outstretched towards you. “Shit, are you okay?”
You awkwardly wave away their concern. “I took care of it, don’t worry.”
They let out a sigh, likely one of relief, and lean back again. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to get on your case about how you should be feeling right now. You’ve had a long day, you’re stressed, I get it. And I’m here to give you whatever help you need.”
“Thank you, Vynn. That means a lot to me.”
Vynn grins at you, and you can see that they are ready to drop it. They’d stay with you in silence all night long if you asked. They’d go along with a change of topic.
But you know they’d also listen to whatever you had to tell them.
They already know something’s up.
So maybe…
[[Maybe you should tell Vynn everything. The whole truth.|Chapter5Vynn3A]]
[[No, there’s no reason to do that. Just change the topic.|Chapter5Vynn3B]]As the idea forms itself in your head, you immediately stop yourself. Even if you figure you need to come forward with the truth eventually, is today the day? Are you sure now is the right moment?
You try to imagine how Vynn might react.
On one hand, you know that Vynn cares about you, that they trust you, and that they know you. You have grown up together - they know you were raised as a human and that you have no affiliation with the fae. On the other hand, they might expect you to behave differently now. Vynn doesn’t understand the appeal of knighthood and nobility. How will they take knowing that you, who always wanted to be not only a knight, but the Champion, you, who ultimately succeeded and got exactly what you wanted, are neither a noble nor a human?
What if telling them the truth ruins your friendship? Then you’ll be truly alone.
Telling them the truth is a risk. But waiting too long might make Vynn question the trust you have in them. If you aren’t able to confide in your best friend, then who’s left?
Is now really the time to tell them? Are you certain that it’s the right decision?
[[Yes. Tell them.|Chapter5VynnTruth1]]
[[No. Don’t tell them.|Chapter5Vynn3B]]<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
“Look, could we maybe just talk about something else? I think what would help me most is just…you know, distracting myself.”
Vynn looks at you intently. “Sure, we can do that. Get your mind off of whatever it is, cheer you up. It might be what’s best for you in the moment. That being said, I just want you to know that you don’t need to bottle anything up. I’m here for you, whenever. <i>Always.</i>”
You smile slightly, not quite able to hold their intense gaze. “Thank you, Vynn. Maybe I’ll be able to talk about it some other time.”
“I respect that. So, if you want me to distract you, I could play you some new songs?” Vynn sounds eager and you’d never deny them the opportunity.
“I’d love that.”
“Great, just make yourself comfortable!”
They quickly reach beneath their bed and pull out their lute, blowing imaginary dust off of it as if they weren’t using it everyday. After checking the strings, they pull it into their lap.
“This one is called: Honey Love,” they announce dramatically.
You chuckle. “Let me guess, it’s a love song.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s not finished yet, but it starts like this:
<i>Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, I will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I was yours and you were mine.</i>
So, is it a love song?”
You think about the lyrics for a moment. “It started off like one, but I don’t think it is by the end.”
“Which makes it a very honest love song, don’t you think?” Vynn grins.
“Because it doesn’t last?”
“You got it. Want to hear one more?”
You nod eagerly. “Of course!”
“This one’s called: Peace and War.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
Do any of you know?
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The metre is a bit off, I know, but I like the melody a lot.”
The song was rather upbeat, but instead of clashing with the subject matter, it struck a chord within you.
“I don’t understand how you fit so much emotion into a few lines like this,” you say.
Vynn sits up a little straighter, preening under the praise. “It’s the questions. They make the listener reflect.”
They launch into an explanation about music theory and you listen more so for their passion than the information itself. You do end up thoroughly distracted and barely notice the passage of time. It only creeps up on you once you notice how dark it’s getting outside.
“Oh, it’s getting late,” Vynn says. “Not that it really matters. You can stay as long as you want, $playername.”
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I could stay a while.”
Vynn perks up at that. “If that’s the case, maybe you should get out of the castle tomorrow. Just use the day to get some distance. Clear your head, you know?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. In that case, maybe I should go to bed soon. So I can make the most of tomorrow.” You glance at the door, uncertain.
Vynn notices your hesitation to leave. “Don’t worry, $playername. You can come see me again anytime, alright?”
They lay a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“I know. You too, Vynn.”
The two of you say your goodbyes for the day, parting ways at Vynn’s door. As you make your way back to your room, your heart feels a little lighter. Even though you didn’t tell them about your secret today, you've reaffirmed your belief that they would support you no matter what.
[[You are not alone.|Chapter5VynnEnd]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, you wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday, your day off, so you could spend it lying about in bed without a problem, but yesterday’s events still linger in your mind. An idea occurs to you - a way to spend your day and hopefully get some more answers.
It has only been two weeks since your birthday, when you saw your parents last, but so much has happened since then and you haven’t had the chance yet to talk to them about it. Do they know what you are? How do they feel about it? What else might they know?
It’s not something you can discuss via mail, and Grahm territory is a few hours away, so it’s not really a conversation you can have whenever. Today though might be the perfect opportunity - and possibly the only opportunity you’ll get for a while.
Now might seem like an inopportune time to leave the castle, and Az’Lean, behind, but after the talk you had with Vynn yesterday, you feel like you have to do this while you can. Besides, it might be good for Az’Lean to have a day to himself without having to worry about whether you are an impostor or not. There will probably be a lot of additional security measures after yesterday’s events, and Az’Lean might spend the majority of the day in a meeting with his father anyway. It should be fine to take a short trip like this - if you leave now you can easily be back by nightfall.
The thought of confronting your parents is nerve-wracking to say the least, but maybe you shouldn’t put it off for that exact reason. Depending on what they have to say, this could be either good for you, or very very damaging. But your feelings aside - you have seen the danger you and Az’Lean are in first hand yesterday. If your parents know anything, anything at all, then you must get them to tell you.
With the decision made, you start getting ready for a ride home. Once you’re dressed and have packed some rations, you head over to Az’Lean’s room. You catch him just as he is leaving.
“The roses are in full bloom today,” you say by way of greeting.
His face brightens as soon as you do, and he smiles in relief. “You remembered the code phrase!”
“Of course. It’s no good if you were to suspect me of being an impostor every time we saw each other, so I made sure not to forget.” You tap your temple with a smile.
“Thank you, $playername. I appreciate that a lot. You look like you are heading out, got any plans for today?”
“I’ll take a short trip to Grahm territory, just for today. With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit my parents again, so I thought I should do it while I can,” you explain. “As long as you don’t need me here today, that is.”
Az’Lean waves your concerns away. “I’ll be fine. I think you have the right idea to get out of here for a day, as long as you make sure you’re back by tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, that I can promise.”
“Then it’s all good. Besides, you’re right that we’ll be even busier from now on. Reinforcing the border, and now updating the castle’s security as well - we have our work cut out for us. Not to mention the Summer Solstice is coming up soon, so we’ll have to start preparing for the festival.” He rubs his eyes, clearly not looking forward to all the work that comes with it.
“I completely forgot about that but you’re right, the month is almost over.” You scrunch your face up in thought, counting the days in your head. Today is the 26th of the Cherry Moon, and the Summer Solstice is on the 8th of the Midday Moon, so that’s only eleven more days.
“Be that as it may, don’t let me keep you, $playername. Greet Lady and Sir Grahm from me, while you’re there.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow, Az’Lean.”
You take a bow before continuing on your way to the stables. It’s another sunny day today and just warm enough to make a long ride enjoyable and not exhausting. Faiche seems to be well rested when you find her, and you think she’ll enjoy being out in the sun just as much.
A small smile lingers on your face as you think about seeing your parents, and if your hands are shaking a little bit as you are saddling up Faiche, then that’s something you are happy to ignore.
It’s time to get some answers. Time to return to Grahm territory.
[[End of Chapter 5 - Unburdened|Chapter6.0]]<<set $lie to $lie - 1>>\
<<set $Vynnknows to "yes">>\
You start wringing your hands, gaze fixed intently on the wall next to Vynn’s head.
“I need to tell you something,” you say slowly. It’s not your intention to let the words hang in the air and build suspense, you simply need to force them out before you have the chance to regret them. “It- It is very difficult for me to talk about, and I need you to promise me to let me finish before you say anything.”
This much you need from Vynn. If they interrupt you, you suspect you will start to crumble, to back-pedal. No, you need to get through everything in one go.
Vynn looks at you with wide eyes, clearly intrigued. “I knew something was up with you! Don’t worry, $playername, I’ll let you finish before I say anything in response. And if it’s something embarrassing, I promise I won’t laugh at you.”
How you wish it was just something embarrassing! But seeing Vynn’s open expression and good humour helps convince you that this isn’t going to go horrible - that this won’t destroy your friendship with them. You trust Vynn. You have faith in Vynn.
You take a deep breath and steel yourself. You are a knight, for the love of the Gods, you can do this. You just have to push through.
“You know that ever since I was young, when we first met, I wanted to be a knight, like my father. Since the prince and I are the same age, I also always wanted to be his Champion. You were with me on that journey, on every step of the way. You know it’s true. And then my dream came true! You were there for that as well. You remember the celebration afterwards, right? At some point after we started celebrating my birthday, I had to step out to get some air.”
The words all but rush out of your mouth, as if they were a caged beast that was finally let loose. You feel yourself losing control of the situation, but it’s too late anyway. The words just keep coming.
“I went to the castle courtyard, and someone else was there. It was a woman, but she wasn’t human. She knew me, and she wanted to speak to me.”
You can hear Vynn suck in a surprised breath. They were the one that found you under that tree and brought you back to the barracks. They only missed Maeve by a few minutes
“I didn’t trust her, since she was obviously fae, but she really did know my name and who I was. Then she said something else, about me…”
It’s like you hit some sort of hurdle, and the words have to squeeze past a tight lock. Your heart is threatening to give out under the strain of beating so quickly, and your tongue feels dry as sandpaper, but you keep on pushing, fighting through it.
“She said… She said… She said that I, $playername Grahm, was actually a changeling, smuggled into the family at birth. I didn’t believe a word of it, and she disappeared again. The next day, I woke up in the barracks with you. I was confused, half believing that everything was just a dream or a drunken hallucination. That said, I couldn’t ignore the doubts and fears. What if she was right?”
Vynn opens their mouth, almost as if to say something, but they stop themselves. They must clearly still remember how out of sorts you had been that morning after the celebration.
You take another deep breath. Just a bit more, then you’ve gotten it over with. Just one more push.
“So then at night… At night I- I- I got in front of a mirror, and- and- and-”
Air rushes into your lungs to fill the void, it’s like a spark goes off inside you and you are about to explode. A bit of mania slips into your voice and you feel the urge to laugh at the absurdity of all this.
Without consciously deciding to do it, you reach out to Vynn, and they take your hands into theirs, squeezing tightly, grounding you. You hope they don’t let go. You hope they understand.
“It’s true, Vynn, it’s true! What she said! That I am a…changeling…a fae. But I didn’t know! I didn’t know and you have to believe me! I grew up like a normal human and I feel like a human and there was never anything I wanted more than to be a knight. I promise you that. And I am sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner, but how could I? I couldn't believe it, couldn’t understand it, and I was so scared - am so scared. Of what I am, and what it means. And I haven’t told anyone. But I need to tell you at least, so please. You have to believe me.”
You expect to see a lot of things on Vynn’s face. Shock, confusion, maybe even anger. What you find instead knocks the air right out of your lungs. All that shines in Vynn’s deep brown eyes is pure compassion.
You’re breathing heavily, exhausted as if you had just been in a tournament. Tears are gathering in your eyes, but they are ones of relief.
Vynn takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands once more before speaking.
“It’s okay, $playername. I don’t care that you’re a changeling. You’re my best friend and you always will be. I promise, I won’t think differently of you, I won’t rat you out, and I won’t let you beat yourself up over this, either. To be honest, this revelation isn’t that surprising to me.”
Warmth blossoms in your heart. <i>Vynn.</i>
“What do you mean?” you ask a bit belatedly.
“You’ve always been sensitive to metal. I always thought you were maybe half-fae or quarter-fae, and that someone in the Grahm family had hidden their heritage, or maybe that you were adopted, or conceived out of wedlock. And then these past weeks you were acting a bit strange. I remember when we put up the barrier at the border in Westwale. The look on your face when you thought you had to cross it. You looked <i>terrified</i>. That’s why I volunteered to do it.”
You remember it, how out of character it had been for Vynn to offer to do any kind of work that might put them in danger. They did it for <i>you</i>.
“I suspected you were part-fae. That you are a changeling is a bit different, but not really. Yes, you are fae. Yes, you are adopted. But you were raised as a Grahm and we spent years together. I know that you’re human in all the ways that matter, and there isn’t a more perfect embodiment of knighthood around. So as far as I am concerned, nothing much changes. Only two things: One, you aren’t really allowed to live here, so we have to keep your secret. Two, I’d like for you to tell me a bit more, about that fae woman and what’s going on with her.”
You can feel yourself start shaking from exhaustion and relief. This is all you had hoped for and more. Vynn understands. They accept you!
It feels like the sun is rising after weeks spent in the dark. It’s blinding and your eyes are watering, but you can’t help but bask in it.
[[“Vynn. Thank you.”|Chapter5VynnTruth2]]<<set $instability to 0>>\
You need a moment to deal with the onslaught of emotions. Hesitantly, you pull one of your hands from Vynn’s grip and use it wipe away your tears. The other clutches even more tightly onto the hand of your best friend.
“I promise, I’ll tell you about what happened. I don’t want to be alone with this ever again, so I won’t keep you in the dark any longer.”
Vynn smiles softly. “Of course, $playername. Take your time. You don’t have to tell me today, I feel like this has been enough already.”
“You might be right. I feel like I’m about to pass out.” You try to laugh but it’s little more than a wheeze.
“You look like it, too.” Vynn grins mockingly before turning serious again. “Is that what triggered this? Seeing that other changeling earlier today?”
“Yes. I’d been coping, somewhat. But after all that, I just couldn’t keep going like before.”
“Can I ask…if it’s not too much…How do you feel about being a changeling?”
[[“I hate it. I hate that I’m fae. It- It disgusts me.”|Chapter5VynnTruth3A]]
[[“I don’t know. I’m just so lost and confused. And scared.”|Chapter5VynnTruth3B]]
[[“I’m less concerned about being a changeling than I am about what happens if someone finds out. I don’t want to lose my life here.”|Chapter5VynnTruth3C]]
[[“I’m angry at the unfairness of it all. Why did my biological parents give me away? Why aren’t fae allowed to live in Gaiapeia even if they were raised by humans?”|Chapter5VynnTruth3D]]Vynn looks a bit sad as they nod. “I understand, and I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. How about we leave that topic be, for now?”
“I’d appreciate that. This has all been…a lot. But I am glad that I told you. You can’t imagine what sort of weight has just been lifted off my shoulders.” You smile shakily. You don’t even just mean that metaphorically, your body does feel a lot less tense all of a sudden - to the point that you’d suspect your legs might give out if you tried to leave now. You hadn’t even really realised how stressed you’d been until now.
“How about I play you some new songs of mine? That way you can take a moment to relax. No having to talk, no having to do anything.”
You shuffle around on Vynn’s bed until you’re more comfortable, leaning against the wall. “That sounds brilliant. Go on, Vynn, serenade me.”
They quickly reach beneath their bed and pull out their lute, blowing imaginary dust off of it as if they weren’t using it everyday. After checking the strings, they pull it into their lap.
“This one is called: Honey Love,” they announce dramatically.
You chuckle. “Let me guess, it’s a love song.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s not finished yet, but it starts like this:
<i>Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, I will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I was yours and you were mine.</i>
So, is it a love song?”
You think about the lyrics for a moment. “It started off like one, but I don’t think it is by the end.”
“Which makes it a very honest love song, don’t you think?” Vynn grins.
“Because it doesn’t last?”
“You got it. Want to hear one more?”
You nod eagerly. “Of course!”
“This one’s called: Peace and War.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
Do any of you know?
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The metre is a bit off, I know, but I like the melody a lot.”
The song was rather upbeat, but instead of clashing with the subject matter, it struck a chord within you.
“I don’t understand how you fit so much emotion into a few lines like this,” you say.
Vynn sits up a little straighter, preening under the praise. “It’s the questions. They make the listener reflect.”
They launch into an explanation about music theory and you listen more so for their passion than the information itself. You do end up thoroughly distracted and barely notice the passage of time. It only creeps up on you once you notice how dark it’s getting outside.
“Oh, it’s getting late,” Vynn says. “Not that it really matters. You can stay as long as you want, $playername.”
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I could stay a while.”
Vynn perks up at that. “If that’s the case, maybe you should get out of the castle tomorrow. Just use the day to get some distance. Clear your head, you know?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. In that case, maybe I should go to bed soon. So I can make the most of tomorrow.” You glance at the door, uncertain.
Vynn notices your hesitation to leave. “Don’t worry, $playername. You can come see me again anytime, alright?”
They lay a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“I know. You too, Vynn.”
The two of you say your goodbyes for the day, parting ways at Vynn’s door. As you make your way back to your room, your heart feels as light and warm as it hasn’t in days. You told them! And it went well! You had always hoped that Vynn would support you no matter what, but to have it confirmed is enough to make you tear up again at the thought of it.
Vynn really does care about you. You feel incredibly lucky to have a person like this in your life, who stands by you unconditionally.
[[You are not alone.|Chapter5VynnEnd]]Vynn looks sympathetic as they nod. “I understand, that makes perfect sense. It's only been two weeks since you found out, after all. How about we leave that topic be, for now?”
“I’d appreciate that. This has all been…a lot. But I am glad that I told you. You can’t imagine what sort of weight has just been lifted off my shoulders.” You smile shakily. You don’t even just mean that metaphorically, your body does feel a lot less tense all of a sudden - to the point that you’d suspect your legs might give out if you tried to leave now. You hadn’t even really realised how stressed you’d been until now.
“How about I play you some new songs of mine? That way you can take a moment to relax. No having to talk, no having to do anything.”
You shuffle around on Vynn’s bed until you’re more comfortable, leaning against the wall. “That sounds brilliant. Go on, Vynn, serenade me.”
They quickly reach beneath their bed and pull out their lute, blowing imaginary dust off of it as if they weren’t using it everyday. After checking the strings, they pull it into their lap.
“This one is called: Honey Love,” they announce dramatically.
You chuckle. “Let me guess, it’s a love song.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s not finished yet, but it starts like this:
<i>Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, I will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I was yours and you were mine.</i>
So, is it a love song?”
You think about the lyrics for a moment. “It started off like one, but I don’t think it is by the end.”
“Which makes it a very honest love song, don’t you think?” Vynn grins.
“Because it doesn’t last?”
“You got it. Want to hear one more?”
You nod eagerly. “Of course!”
“This one’s called: Peace and War.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
Do any of you know?
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The metre is a bit off, I know, but I like the melody a lot.”
The song was rather upbeat, but instead of clashing with the subject matter, it struck a chord within you.
“I don’t understand how you fit so much emotion into a few lines like this,” you say.
Vynn sits up a little straighter, preening under the praise. “It’s the questions. They make the listener reflect.”
They launch into an explanation about music theory and you listen more so for their passion than the information itself. You do end up thoroughly distracted and barely notice the passage of time. It only creeps up on you once you notice how dark it’s getting outside.
“Oh, it’s getting late,” Vynn says. “Not that it really matters. You can stay as long as you want, $playername.”
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I could stay a while.”
Vynn perks up at that. “If that’s the case, maybe you should get out of the castle tomorrow. Just use the day to get some distance. Clear your head, you know?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. In that case, maybe I should go to bed soon. So I can make the most of tomorrow.” You glance at the door, uncertain.
Vynn notices your hesitation to leave. “Don’t worry, $playername. You can come see me again anytime, alright?”
They lay a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“I know. You too, Vynn.”
The two of you say your goodbyes for the day, parting ways at Vynn’s door. As you make your way back to your room, your heart feels as light and warm as it hasn’t in days. You told them! And it went well! You had always hoped that Vynn would support you no matter what, but to have it confirmed is enough to make you tear up again at the thought of it.
Vynn really does care about you. You feel incredibly lucky to have a person like this in your life, who stands by you unconditionally.
[[You are not alone.|Chapter5VynnEnd]]Vynn looks a bit surprised as they nod. “I guess that should be your number one concern, pragmatically. Don't worry, we'll make sure no one finds out. But how about we leave that topic be, for now?”
“I’d appreciate that. This has all been…a lot. But I am glad that I told you. You can’t imagine what sort of weight has just been lifted off my shoulders.” You smile shakily. You don’t even just mean that metaphorically, your body does feel a lot less tense all of a sudden - to the point that you’d suspect your legs might give out if you tried to leave now. You hadn’t even really realised how stressed you’d been until now.
“How about I play you some new songs of mine? That way you can take a moment to relax. No having to talk, no having to do anything.”
You shuffle around on Vynn’s bed until you’re more comfortable, leaning against the wall. “That sounds brilliant. Go on, Vynn, serenade me.”
They quickly reach beneath their bed and pull out their lute, blowing imaginary dust off of it as if they weren’t using it everyday. After checking the strings, they pull it into their lap.
“This one is called: Honey Love,” they announce dramatically.
You chuckle. “Let me guess, it’s a love song.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s not finished yet, but it starts like this:
<i>Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, I will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I was yours and you were mine.</i>
So, is it a love song?”
You think about the lyrics for a moment. “It started off like one, but I don’t think it is by the end.”
“Which makes it a very honest love song, don’t you think?” Vynn grins.
“Because it doesn’t last?”
“You got it. Want to hear one more?”
You nod eagerly. “Of course!”
“This one’s called: Peace and War.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
Do any of you know?
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The metre is a bit off, I know, but I like the melody a lot.”
The song was rather upbeat, but instead of clashing with the subject matter, it struck a chord within you.
“I don’t understand how you fit so much emotion into a few lines like this,” you say.
Vynn sits up a little straighter, preening under the praise. “It’s the questions. They make the listener reflect.”
They launch into an explanation about music theory and you listen more so for their passion than the information itself. You do end up thoroughly distracted and barely notice the passage of time. It only creeps up on you once you notice how dark it’s getting outside.
“Oh, it’s getting late,” Vynn says. “Not that it really matters. You can stay as long as you want, $playername.”
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I could stay a while.”
Vynn perks up at that. “If that’s the case, maybe you should get out of the castle tomorrow. Just use the day to get some distance. Clear your head, you know?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. In that case, maybe I should go to bed soon. So I can make the most of tomorrow.” You glance at the door, uncertain.
Vynn notices your hesitation to leave. “Don’t worry, $playername. You can come see me again anytime, alright?”
They lay a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“I know. You too, Vynn.”
The two of you say your goodbyes for the day, parting ways at Vynn’s door. As you make your way back to your room, your heart feels as light and warm as it hasn’t in days. You told them! And it went well! You had always hoped that Vynn would support you no matter what, but to have it confirmed is enough to make you tear up again at the thought of it.
Vynn really does care about you. You feel incredibly lucky to have a person like this in your life, who stands by you unconditionally.
[[You are not alone.|Chapter5VynnEnd]]Vynn nods. “I was thinking that too. How unfair it all is, and that it was just sprung on you without warning. I'd say some anger is justified. But how about we leave that topic be, for now?”
“I’d appreciate that. This has all been…a lot. But I am glad that I told you. You can’t imagine what sort of weight has just been lifted off my shoulders.” You smile shakily. You don’t even just mean that metaphorically, your body does feel a lot less tense all of a sudden - to the point that you’d suspect your legs might give out if you tried to leave now. You hadn’t even really realised how stressed you’d been until now.
“How about I play you some new songs of mine? That way you can take a moment to relax. No having to talk, no having to do anything.”
You shuffle around on Vynn’s bed until you’re more comfortable, leaning against the wall. “That sounds brilliant. Go on, Vynn, serenade me.”
They quickly reach beneath their bed and pull out their lute, blowing imaginary dust off of it as if they weren’t using it everyday. After checking the strings, they pull it into their lap.
“This one is called: Honey Love,” they announce dramatically.
You chuckle. “Let me guess, it’s a love song.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s not finished yet, but it starts like this:
<i>Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, I will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I was yours and you were mine.</i>
So, is it a love song?”
You think about the lyrics for a moment. “It started off like one, but I don’t think it is by the end.”
“Which makes it a very honest love song, don’t you think?” Vynn grins.
“Because it doesn’t last?”
“You got it. Want to hear one more?”
You nod eagerly. “Of course!”
“This one’s called: Peace and War.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
Do any of you know?
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The metre is a bit off, I know, but I like the melody a lot.”
The song was rather upbeat, but instead of clashing with the subject matter, it struck a chord within you.
“I don’t understand how you fit so much emotion into a few lines like this,” you say.
Vynn sits up a little straighter, preening under the praise. “It’s the questions. They make the listener reflect.”
They launch into an explanation about music theory and you listen more so for their passion than the information itself. You do end up thoroughly distracted and barely notice the passage of time. It only creeps up on you once you notice how dark it’s getting outside.
“Oh, it’s getting late,” Vynn says. “Not that it really matters. You can stay as long as you want, $playername.”
“Tomorrow is my day off, so I could stay a while.”
Vynn perks up at that. “If that’s the case, maybe you should get out of the castle tomorrow. Just use the day to get some distance. Clear your head, you know?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. In that case, maybe I should go to bed soon. So I can make the most of tomorrow.” You glance at the door, uncertain.
Vynn notices your hesitation to leave. “Don’t worry, $playername. You can come see me again anytime, alright?”
They lay a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“I know. You too, Vynn.”
The two of you say your goodbyes for the day, parting ways at Vynn’s door. As you make your way back to your room, your heart feels as light and warm as it hasn’t in days. You told them! And it went well! You had always hoped that Vynn would support you no matter what, but to have it confirmed is enough to make you tear up again at the thought of it.
Vynn really does care about you. You feel incredibly lucky to have a person like this in your life, who stands by you unconditionally.
[[You are not alone.|Chapter5VynnEnd]]<img src="images/Chap6.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Hollowpeann Territory
!!!Year 929, 26th of the Cherry Moon
It is still quite early in the morning when you leave the city gates behind you. The sun is reflecting harshly off of the Cassja River as you ride along next to it, and a slight breeze is rustling the foliage around you. As you leave Gaitanis behind and enter Hollowpeann territory, you try not to feel too much dread. Seeing your parents should elicit positive feelings, not turn you into a bundle of nerves.
<<if $instability > 4>> The truth is, you are barely keeping it together. You don’t know which is worse - your parents not knowing, and you having to tell them, or finding out that they do know and have been lying to you your entire life. You can’t help but imagine both of those scenarios in a vain attempt to mentally prepare yourself. In actuality, it only makes the feeling of dread worse. <<else>> You remind yourself that, no matter what, your parents have always been good to you, and you know that they care about you. Whether they know what you are or not, you doubt it would even make any sort of difference at this point. If you found out your mother was a changeling all along, you might be confused, and maybe a little hurt at her for not telling you, but you’d still love her just the same. Surely your parents will feel the same way about you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows == "yes">> As you continue riding along, traversing nature at a steady, yet relaxing pace, you can’t help but feel like you are leaving your home behind. You know Az’Lean only sent you away for a day, and you can’t begrudge him the fact that he needs time, but it still feels like you are being banished. What if he decides you should leave permanently? As terrible as it sounds, you can’t rule that kind of verdict out. You throw a look over your shoulder, taking in the silhouette of the city, committing it to memory. It has truly become your home these past few years, and leaving it for even just a day hurts. <<endif>>\
As you delve further into Hollowpeann territory, you soon recognise the large white rocks and increasingly steep cliffs surrounding the river. You longingly peer down at the rushing water, now fully enveloped in shade, as the sun keeps shining down on you, becoming harsher with every passing minute. The heat is almost unbearable already. The ground beneath Faiche’s hooves turns gravelly and uneven, and you decide to be cautious and slow down a bit.
In the distance, you can see some of the Hollowpeann mines, rich in iron ore in particular, but you’re still too far away to hear the telltale sound of minecarts rolling along tracks. Instead, you hear the river to your left, a bit of birdsong to your right, and the clopping of another horse’s hooves behind you.
As the pathway is somewhat narrow and the cliffs are steep, you glance behind you to make sure that it isn’t a large group of riders or a carriage approaching. You spot only one rider, and to your surprise they start waving to you when they see you looking. You squint your eyes a little, trying to make out who they are against the bright sun. It takes a second, but then you are able to make out brown curls and an obnoxiously bright yellow scarf.
[[“Vynn?”|Chapter6.1]]It takes a while for them to catch up to you, even as you slow down. Once they do, they ride up next to you, keeping pace.
“Fancy seeing you here, $playername,” Vynn says. They sound surprisingly subdued, and your immediate assumption is that they aren’t here for fun.
“Are you visiting your parents?” you ask.
Vynn winces, but shakes their head. “No, no. I am actually here for you.”
You can’t help but do a double take. Neither did you tell them where you were going to be today, nor why you were making the trip. They only really could have heard it from Az’Lean, but what reason would he have had for telling them?
“Is there anything you need from me? How did you know I was visiting Grahm territory, anyway?”
Vynn looks around, as if checking for any unwelcome listeners. “I saw you leave, so I decided to follow. There was just something I needed to talk to you about. Urgently.”
<<if $Vynnknows == "yes">> “Is it about…what I told you yesterday?” you ask, making sure to keep your voice low. Right here in the middle of the road isn’t really the sort of place you want to discuss something like this.
“Not directly, but it might be related. It is actually about that other changeling. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I did some… <i>investigating</i>.” The way Vynn stretches the word doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.
You’re starting to get a bad feeling about this. “Vynn, what did you do?”
“Like I said, investigating. Anyway, I ended up in the magical laboratory and the corpse was still there. They didn’t think to guard it - an oversight in my opinion - so I just thought I’d take a look at it. If my best friend is a changeling, shouldn’t I learn about their anatomy?”
You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “What kind of logic is that? Where are you going with this, Vynn?”
“I’m just telling you why I was looking at it!” Vynn hisses, trying to keep their voice down while expressing frustration in the most theatrical way possible at the same time. “So, because I’m a great friend, I was looking at this corpse. Just looking, you know, seeing what’s different to humans. The basics are the same, I feel like, it’s mostly just the skin and face.”
Vynn glances at you, as if comparing how you look now to a mental image. They nod to themselves before continuing.
“But then I realised something - this person died when they had the body of a human, and only turned into a changeling as it was happening. So what if the thing that killed them, seemingly out of nowhere, is something that would only be deadly to a changeling, and not a human?”
Vynn looks at you, expectantly.
You nod slowly. “That’s not a bad hypothesis. But, was it really necessary to ride all the way out here to tell me? You could’ve just told Thianne or someone else about it.”
“I didn’t know if you’d want anyone else to know,” Vynn says slowly. “That there might be something out there that’s deadly to changelings and not humans. Someone might get the bright idea to try and use it to test for possible intruders.”
“Oh. Like how Thianne’s mabs are only deadly to fae?”
“Exactly. I’m probably wrong and that changeling was killed some other way, but it was late at night, and I thought it was possible, so I wanted to warn you, but you were leaving. So now I’m here.” Vynn gives you a big, wobbly grin.
[[“That is incredibly sweet of you, Vynn,” you say, honestly touched by their concern.|Chapter6.2A]]
[[“That is pretty stupid, I am not going to lie to you,” you say, lightheartedly.|Chapter6.2B]]
[[“Do you realise that you are making both of us look even more suspicious by sneaking around at night and just leaving the city the next day?”, you say, somewhat annoyed.|Chapter6.2C]]
<<else>>
Vynn chased you all the way out here just to tell you something? Alarm bells immediately start going off in your head. You doubt Vynn came here to tell you good news. Whatever it is, you already know you won’t like it.
“Fine. What is it?” you ask, a bit more sharply than you intended.
Vynn is quiet for a suspiciously long time. “I really don’t know how to bring this up, so I want to give you the opportunity first… Is there anything that has been bothering you lately? Anything you want to talk about? I promise I’ll listen.”
Your grip on the reins tighten. This really isn’t a conversation to have while on horseback.
It isn’t clear what or how much Vynn knows, but they must have figured out <i>something</i>. Your first thought is obviously that they know about you being a changeling, but you have to be careful. You might be reading the situation wrong, and Vynn thinks they figured something else out. Maybe they think you have a secret lover, or something - who knows what they are trying to get at here.
That being said, if they have indeed figured out that you are a changeling, it might be better to be open about it instead of lying and denying it. This is Vynn, after all. You don’t want them to think that you are actively trying to deceive them.
They’d be understanding, wouldn’t they? Maybe you should put your trust in them.
[[“Why do you think something has been bothering me?” You decide to wait and see, for now.|Chapter6.2D]]
[[“Yes, there is something I should tell you…” You decide to tell them the truth.|Chapter6.2E]]
<<endif>>\Vynn laughs awkwardly. “Now that I’ve explained myself, I realise that I might have overreacted. I suppose I should think things through a bit better.”
“If I were worried about your well-being, I’d also not be able to keep a cool head,” you assure them. “I appreciate that you came all this way just to check on me.”
“Right.” Vynn lets out a sigh of relief. “Well, now that I’ve delivered my warning to you, all that’s left is make sure you’re doing good. So, $playername, how are you holding up?”
You ponder the question for a moment, and you’re surprised to find yourself in a state of peace. You haven’t felt this at ease in a while, and even though the prospect of talking to your parents is a bit nerve-wracking, you’ll be glad once you have done it, no matter what their answer will be.
“I am doing alright, to be honest,” you say with a smile. “Our talk yesterday has really helped me. I feel like this is how it’s supposed to be - you and me, in this together.”
“Vynn and $playername against the world,” Vynn says. They are grinning brightly, but their tone is wistful. “So you really want to keep your secret between just us?”
You can’t help but scoff. “What, you think I should tell someone else? The more people know about it, the bigger the risk of it getting out. I don’t think there’s anyone else I trust as much as you, Vynn.”
“Well, I know <i>that</i>”, Vynn says, smugly crossing their arms. “But I was just thinking about the long term. Would you tell someone else about it - eventually?”
“I mean, potentially. Right now, just having one person to confide in is enough for me. Though, I guess I might have to tell someone else about it today.”
Vynn stares at you in confusion.
[[“Two particular people, to be exact.”|Chapter6.4A]]<<set $humour to $humour + 1>>\
Vynn erupts into laughter. “I appreciate the honesty, $playername. I do realise that I might have overreacted. I suppose I should think things through a bit better.”
“I’ll say. Being worried about me is one thing, but don’t lose your head over it,” you say with a teasing grin. “That said, I appreciate that you came all this way just to check on me.”
“Right.” Vynns laughter subsides. “Well, now that I’ve delivered my warning to you, all that’s left is to make sure you’re doing good. So, $playername, how are you holding up?”
You ponder the question for a moment, and you’re surprised to find yourself in a state of peace. You haven’t felt this at ease in a while, and even though the prospect of talking to your parents is a bit nerve-wracking, you’ll be glad once you have done it, no matter what their answer will be.
“I am doing alright, to be honest,” you say with a smile. “Our talk yesterday has really helped me. I feel like this is how it’s supposed to be - you and me, in this together.”
“Vynn and $playername against the world,” Vynn says. They are grinning brightly, but their tone is wistful. “So you really want to keep your secret between just us?”
You can’t help but scoff. “What, you think I should tell someone else? The more people know about it, the bigger the risk of it getting out. I don’t think there’s anyone else I trust as much as you, Vynn.”
“Well, I know <i>that</i>”, Vynn says, smugly crossing their arms. “But I was just thinking about the long term. Would you tell someone else about it - eventually?”
“I mean, potentially. Right now, just having one person to confide in is enough for me. Though, I guess I might have to tell someone else about it today.”
Vynn stares at you in confusion.
[[“Two particular people, to be exact.”|Chapter6.4A]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5>>\
Vynn turns their head away, frowning. “I do realise that I might have overreacted, but I was simply concerned about you. I guess I should think things through a bit better.”
“Yes, you should. Vynn, you have to realise the position I’m in. I entrusted you with my secret, so now we both have to be careful. Of course, I appreciate you wanting to check on me, but best to do it discreetly.”
“Fine,” Vynn says with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. Now that I’ve made it all the way here to warn you, I might as well make sure you’re doing good. So, $playername, how are you holding up?”
You ponder the question for a moment, and you’re surprised to find yourself in a state of peace. You haven’t felt this at ease in a while, and even though the prospect of talking to your parents is a bit nerve-wracking, you’ll be glad once you have done it, no matter what their answer will be.
“I am doing alright, to be honest,” you say with a smile. “Our talk yesterday has really helped me. I feel like this is how it’s supposed to be - you and me, in this together.”
“Vynn and $playername against the world,” Vynn says. They are grinning brightly, but there tone is wistful. “So you really want to keep your secret between just us?”
You can’t help but scoff. “What, you think I should tell someone else? The more people know about it, the bigger the risk of it getting out. I don’t think there’s anyone else I trust as much as you, Vynn.”
“Well, I know <i>that</i>”, Vynn says, smugly crossing their arms. “But I was just thinking about the long term. Would you tell someone else about it - eventually?”
“I mean, potentially. Right now, just having one person to confide in is enough for me. Though, I guess I might have to tell someone else about it today.”
Vynn stares at you in confusion.
[[“Two particular people, to be exact.”|Chapter6.4A]]Vynn scoffs. “What, you thought I wouldn’t notice? Ever since you became the Champion, you have been acting a bit off. You’d think it was just stress, and the pressure of your new position, but that’s not what it seems like to me. That’s why I’m asking if anything is up. You know I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.”
“Right. I know that, Vynn.” The words ring hollow as you speak them. It’s clear that Vynn thinks you’re hiding something from them, and continuing down this path might make them believe that you don’t trust them. Still, this isn’t really something you can just casually mention.
“I get it if you don’t want to talk about whatever is going on with you, but don’t act like there’s nothing wrong. I can tell that something changed,” Vynn says with a scowl. “How do you think I would feel if it were something I could help with, but I wasn’t able to because of being out of the loop?”
It doesn’t seem like Vynn is going to drop the subject anytime soon. You know that you have to say something, since your silence will be read as confirmation, but you find yourself unable to find the right words.
Your conflict must be visible, for Vynn’s expression turns compassionate.
“I get the feeling that whatever it is must be difficult for you to talk about,” Vynn says, watching you closely.
“That’s one way to put it,” you say carefully, gripping the reins tighter. You want to ask Vynn to drop the subject, but get the feeling it would just make their questioning more insistent.
“Then, how about this, $playername: I’ll just tell you what I think might be going on, and you can confirm or deny it. If my assumption is wrong, I’ll stop pestering you. How does that sound?”
They’ve got you there. If they have truly figured out that you are a changeling, then you need to know immediately. You can’t just ignore them if that’s the case. All you can do is hope that whatever conclusion they’ve come to is off the mark.
“Fine. Tell me your suspicions,” you say, anxiously hoping for the best.
Vynn’s face lights up. “Good! This is what I have noticed: It started on the night of your birthday. I know we were drinking, but you were really out of it. The next morning, you were acting even weirder. You forgot that the prince was coming to get you from the barracks. Now if that’s not uncharacteristic behaviour, then I don’t know what is. So clearly, something happened that night. Then, the next week, you were really down and lost in your own thoughts. You were finally living your dream, but you looked more stressed and on edge than I had ever seen you before. Something was clearly wrong, and you didn’t seem like you were planning on telling me about it.”
You suppose it makes sense that Vynn would notice such a change in your usual behaviour. You’re hoping that this was all they had noticed, but they keep going, and you can feel the tension starting to rise.
“You’ve always been sensitive to metal. I always thought you were maybe half-fae or quarter-fae, and that someone in the Grahm family had hidden their heritage, or maybe that you were adopted, or conceived out of wedlock. And then these past weeks you were acting a bit strange. I remember when we put up the barrier at the border in Westwale. The look on your face when you thought you had to cross it. You looked <i>terrified</i>. That’s why I volunteered to do it. So at first, I simply suspected you were part fae. But then yesterday, that thing with the changeling happened, and the look on your face when the changeling was revealed and proceeded to die… It got me thinking.”
Your heart is hammering away in your chest, and the only reason why you have been able to keep it together throughout this is because there’s nothing but compassion and understanding in Vynn’s words. You stare at them, wide-eyed, waiting for them to say it.
Even Vynn is hesitating at this point. “If I am completely wrong then I apologise for any offence, but… Is it possible that you are fae? Is it possible that you didn’t know about it, and that you are a- a- a changeling?”
You know that the look on your face is already betraying you. There’s no point in lying. There’s nothing you can do but nod and wait for judgement.
Even despite their thorough reasoning, Vynn looks a bit surprised. Maybe they just didn’t expect you to admit it.
Immediately, their gaze softens. “Let me say one more thing, $playername: I don’t care that you’re a changeling. You’re my best friend and you always will be. I promise, I won’t think differently of you, I won’t rat you out, and I won’t let you beat yourself up over this, either.”
Warmth blossoms in your heart. <i>Vynn.</i>
“I- Thank you. That- that means a lot to me, truly,” you say, your words heavy with emotion. “I- I didn’t mean to hide this from you. I mean, I did, somewhat, but it’s just because I was terrified and I didn’t know what to do.”
Vynn nods. “I completely understand. Though I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t keep me in the dark from here on out, and explain a few things to me.”
You quickly wipe a stray tear away, trying to keep it together. “Of course. I promise you, I grew up as a human, and I only found out two weeks ago, like you said. That night, a fae woman showed up and told me about it. I never would have figured it out otherwise. I promise, all these years we spent together, I never knew.”
Vynn smiles softly. “I know that you’re human in all the ways that matter, and there isn’t a more perfect embodiment of knighthood around. So as far as I am concerned, nothing much changes. Only two things: One, you aren’t really allowed to live here, so we have to keep your secret at all costs. Two, I’d like for you to tell me a bit more, about that fae woman and what’s going on with her.”
[[This is all you had hoped for and more. Vynn understands. They accept you! It makes you feel all warm with joy, like basking in your own personal sun.|Chapter6.4B]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>> \
You gesture for Vynn to dismount as you do the same. While you lead your horses off to the side of the road, you make sure to carefully survey your surroundings. It wouldn’t do to have some random traveller listening in.
“It’s that bad, huh?” Vynn says, noticing your caution.
“I need to tell you something, but you have to promise me to let me finish before you say anything, and you have to promise to keep quiet about this. I trust you, Vynn, but this is- this is incredibly difficult for me to talk about,” you say, keeping your voice down.
Vynn’s expression immediately turns serious. “I promise, $playername.”
You take a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself.
<<if $Azknows == "yes">>You have already told Az’Lean about this, so this should be easy by comparison.<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>You have already told Thianne about this, and it can’t go much worse than that. This should be easy by comparison.<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>You have already told Lester about this, and that went well. So this shouldn’t be too different.<<endif>>\
You just need to make sure that you explain yourself properly, and then all will be fine. You trust Vynn. They’ll understand.
“You know that ever since I was young, when we first met, I wanted to be a knight, like my father. Since the prince and I are the same age, I also always wanted to be his Champion. You were with me on that journey, on every step of the way. You know it’s true. And then my dream came true! You were there for that as well. You remember the celebration afterwards, right? At some point after we started celebrating my birthday, I had to step out to get some air.”
You try to keep your voice barely above a whisper as you speak. You can feel your heartbeat pick up, but there’s something freeing about getting to say those words to Vynn, so you keep going.
“I went to the castle courtyard, and a strange woman I’d never seen before was there. It turned out that she was fae, a dryad, and she knew me. She was there to speak to me, specifically.”
Vynn has remained silent so far, though they make a thoughtful humming noise at the mention of Maeve. You can feel their need to ask a follow-up question, but they’re able to contain themselves. It is interesting, thinking about it. Vynn was the one that found you under that tree and brought you back to the barracks. They only missed Maeve by a few minutes.
“I didn’t really trust her, but she did know my name and who I was, so I kept listening to what she had to say. She told me…”
You have to take another deep breath. Vynn is looking at you with nothing but encouragement, and a part of you thinks they might already suspect what you are about to say next.
“She told me that I, $playername Grahm, was actually a changeling, smuggled into the family at birth. I didn’t believe a word of it, and she disappeared again. The next day, I woke up in the barracks with you. I was confused, half believing that everything was just a dream or a drunken hallucination. That said, I couldn’t ignore the doubts and fears. What if she was right? So then at night, I- I got in front of a mirror, and-”
The words lodge themselves in your throat, refusing to be voiced.
“And what she said turned out to be true?” Vynn whispers, trying to help you along.
They don’t sound surprised or shocked at all. There’s comfort to be found in that, and strength.
“And what she said turned out to be true,” you echo their words. “I’m a changeling. A fae. I didn’t know until that day. I grew up like a normal human and I feel like a human, and there was never anything I wanted more than to be a knight. You know these things to be true, right?”
Vynn nods, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I didn’t mean to hide this from you. I mean, I did, somewhat, but it’s just because I was terrified and I didn’t know what to do. I’m still scared, and confused, but I know that I would have to tell you sooner or later. So…I am a changeling.”
Whatever you expected to see on Vynn’s face - any kind of surprise of confusion - is entirely absent. What you find instead knocks the air right out of your lungs. All that shines in Vynn’s deep brown eyes is pure compassion.
Immeasurable relief floods through you, and it almost makes you tear up.
“Don’t tell me you already knew?” you whisper.
Vynn chuckles, low and breathy. “To say I knew would be a bit much, but I suspected something along those lines to be the case. Let me say one thing first, $playername: I don’t care that you’re a changeling. You’re my best friend and you always will be. I promise, I won’t think differently of you, I won’t rat you out, and I won’t let you beat yourself up over this, either.”
Warmth blossoms in your heart. <i>Vynn.</i>
“I- Thank you. That- that means a lot to me, truly,” you say, your words heavy with emotion. “So what do you mean you suspected something like this?”
Vynn’s soft smile turns into a smug grin. It seems they are proud to have figured this one out.
“You’ve always been sensitive to metal. I always thought you were maybe half-fae or quarter-fae, and that someone in the Grahm family had hidden their heritage, or maybe that you were adopted, or conceived out of wedlock. And then these past weeks you were acting a bit strange. I remember when we put up the barrier at the border in Westwale. The look on your face when you thought you had to cross it. You looked <i>terrified</i>. That’s why I volunteered to do it.”
You remember it, how out of character it had been for Vynn to offer to do any kind of work that might put them in danger. They did it for <i>you</i>.
“I suspected you were part fae. But then yesterday, that thing with the changeling happened, and the look on your face when the changeling was revealed and proceeded to die… It got me thinking. That you are a changeling is admittedly a bit different from just being part fae, but to me it doesn’t matter. Yes, you are fae. Yes, you are adopted. But you were raised as a Grahm and we spent years together. I know that you’re human in all the ways that matter, and there isn’t a more perfect embodiment of knighthood around. So as far as I am concerned, nothing much changes. Only two things: One, you aren’t really allowed to live here, so we have to keep your secret. Two, I’d like for you to tell me a bit more, about that fae woman and what’s going on with her.”
[[This is all you had hoped for and more. Vynn understands. They accept you! It makes you feel all warm with joy, like basking in the sun.|Chapter6.4B]]Vynn blinks at you for a moment. “Oh, you mean your parents. I assume that’s where you’re heading, anyway. You don’t know if they know, right?”
You shake your head as the two of you continue riding along, following the Cassja River.
“If they know, I’ll have to confront them about the fact that they didn’t tell me anything. If they don’t know, I’ll have to break that news to them.” You shrug. “I doubt the conversation will be pleasant either way.”
Vynn shudders visibly. “I can imagine. If it were my parents, I don’t think I’d be able to bring it up. I’d just have to cut all contact.”
You throw Vynn a sideways glance. “That’s what you want to do anyway. If you found out you were adopted, how would you react?”
“Is it bad to say I’d celebrate?” Vynn asks nonchalantly. “Though I’d still feel some responsibility to my siblings, so I don’t know if all that much would change.”
“Right. If you love each other, it doesn’t matter if you’re actually blood. It only matters if you don’t,” you sum up, drawing strength from that belief. Your parents will love you no matter what - you don’t ever want to doubt that.
“Exactly,” Vynn says with a yawn. “So even if the conversation will be uncomfortable, I’m sure you’ll figure everything out together. Though that does make me wonder…”
Vynn’s face darkens. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask.”
“What? Is it about the original child?” you ask, averting your gaze. “I don’t know what happened to them.”
“I didn’t think you’d know. But your parents might ask, and I don’t know if they’ll be able to accept that it’s just a mystery forever. I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, thinking that my child was somewhere out there.” Vynn gestures around you. “Though I don’t know where you’d even begin to search.”
“It’s been more than two decades,” you say. “It might be impossible to find them.”
“If they’re even alive,” Vynn says. “Sorry to bring up such a morbid topic.”
“Actually, I’m glad to have somebody to talk about it with in the first place,” you say. “Discussing such matters with you is very much preferable to discussing them with my own internal thoughts. They aren’t very helpful, a lot of the time.”
“I can imagine.” You can feel Vynn’s deep brown eyes lingering on you for a while. They seem to be thinking hard about something.
You decide to give them the time they need - surely this is all still a lot for them to wrap their head around. Instead, you focus on enjoying the landscape around you. Wide cliffs and the river to your left, a village barely visible in the distance to your right. Everything is bright and sunlit, and you can hear the buzzing of insects from the tall grass at the side of the road.
Vynn clears their throat. “I was just wondering whether you want me to come with you? To see your parents? I know I kind of just inserted myself into your plans for today, so I get it if you’d rather do this alone.”
You didn’t think Vynn would be accompanying you all the way, but it is a tempting offer to have them along for moral support. On the other hand, is it right to include them in family matters?
[[Vynn is pretty much family already. “Sure. Your support would be appreciated.”|Chapter6.7A]]
[[“No, I think this is something I need to do by myself. But thank you for offering.”|Chapter6.7B]]<<set $Vynnknows to "yes">>\
You need a moment to deal with the onslaught of emotions, but Vynn seems more than content to give you all the time you need.
“I promise, I’ll tell you about what happened. I don’t want to be alone with this ever again, so I won’t keep you in the dark any longer,” you say after a while.
“We do have a long ride ahead of us, so there’ll probably be more than enough time for you to satisfy my curiosity. Shall we get going?”
Vynn and you keep riding north towards Grahm territory. You feel a bit lighter, having them by your side, knowing they accept you as you are, knowing that they offer you their support. Still, yet more difficult conversations like this one lie ahead.
“One thing you should probably tell me: Does anyone else know?” Vynn asks.
<<if $Azknows == "yes">>You let out a long sigh. “Yesterday, I told Az’Lean about it.”
Vynn jolts so much they almost fall out of their saddle. “Why in Aurendil’s name would you do that?!”
“I didn’t want to keep lying to him, with everything that’s going on. Anyway, he didn’t really take it all that well. He said he needed time to think, and told me to leave the castle for a day.”
“Is that why you’re here? I thought you were just visiting your parents!” Vynn looks more than a bit irritated, and you suspect they would have some choice words for the prince if they were in the position to voice them.
“I suppose I am exiled for the day, though I wanted to see my parents anyway. I- I haven’t talked to them about any of this either. I’m not sure if they know about it or not.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>You bury your face in Faiche’s mane. “Yesterday, I told Thianne about it.”
You can hear Vynn take a sharp breath. “That doesn’t sound good. I assume she didn’t take it well?”
“She said she’d eventually tell Az’Lean about this if I don’t do it myself. She’s put me on a time limit, pretty much.”
“That’s- That’s not good. We’ll need to figure out how to handle that. I don’t like the idea that she has that much power over you,” Vynn says, sounding irritated. “So it’s only her?”
You nod. “I’m not sure if my parents even know. I suppose I’ll find out today.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>You find yourself smiling at the memory. “I told Lester about it yesterday. He’s the half-fire sprite guy, I’m sure you’ve seen him around.”
“Yeah, I know him. It makes sense that a half-fae would be understanding of your situation. How’d he take it?” Vynn asks, sounding genuinely curious.
“Much like you, he doesn’t care about it, though unlike you, it came as a pretty big surprise to him. He offered to tell me what he knows about the fae, and I think it was a good decision to confide in him. The two of us have similar experiences, in a lot of ways.”
Vynn smiles brightly. “That’s good to hear! Maybe the three of us can hang out sometime and you can properly introduce me to him. So, only he knows?”
You nod. “I’m not sure if my parents even know. I suppose I’ll find out today.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows is not "yes" && $Thianneknows is not "yes" && $Lesterknows is not "yes">>“I haven’t told anyone else. I’m not even sure if my parents know, though I suppose I’ll find out today.”<<endif>>\
“I see,” Vynn says, dark brown eyes gazing off into the distance. It seems that they are thinking hard about something, though you’re not sure what.
“There’s one other thing I feel I should ask you right away, just to make sure I don’t say anything stupid. If you can answer it… How do you feel about being a changeling?”
[[“I hate it. I hate that I’m fae. It- It disgusts me.”|Chapter6.5A]]
[[“I don’t know. I’m just so lost and confused. And scared.”|Chapter6.5B]]
[[“I’m less concerned about being a changeling than I am about what happens if someone finds out. I don’t want to lose my life here.”|Chapter6.5C]]
[[“I’m angry at the unfairness of it all. Why did my biological parents give me away? Why aren’t fae allowed to live in Gaiapeia even if they were raised by humans?”|Chapter6.5D]]Vynn nods slowly. “I see. I suppose that sort of reaction is only natural. Thank you for telling me, $playername.”
The two of you continue riding along the path, both lost in your own thoughts. Surely this is a lot for Vynn to process as well. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, however. A sense of peace has settled over you, and you feel more at ease than you have been for a while. With Vynn’s support, whatever else may lie ahead suddenly doesn’t seem as daunting.
If the conversation with your parents goes as well as this, you might actually start to be able to accept all this as your new status-quo. As long as the people you care about accept you, you know you’ll be able to handle anything else.
No one can be strong by themselves, but once you have at least one person to rely on, everything becomes a lot more bearable. With your parents at your back and Vynn by your side, what is there to fear?
[[All that’s left is to make sure you keep them safe.|Chapter6.6]]Vynn’s smile falters a little. “We’re in this together now, so I hope you don’t have to feel that way for much longer. We’ll figure this out, $playername.”
“Thank you, Vynn. It’s reassuring to hear you say that.”
The two of you continue riding along the path, both lost in your own thoughts. Surely this is a lot for Vynn to process as well. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, however. A sense of peace has settled over you, and you feel more at ease than you have been for a while. With Vynn’s support, whatever else may lie ahead suddenly doesn’t seem as daunting.
If the conversation with your parents goes as well as this, you might actually start to be able to accept all this as your new status-quo. As long as the people you care about accept you, you know you’ll be able to handle anything else.
No one can be strong by themselves, but once you have at least one person to rely on, everything becomes a lot more bearable. With your parents at your back and Vynn by your side, what is there to fear?
[[All that’s left is to make sure you keep them safe.|Chapter6.6]]
Vynn chuckles. “That’s very pragmatic of you, $playername. Though I agree that that should be our biggest concern.”
The two of you continue riding along the path, both lost in your own thoughts. Surely this is a lot for Vynn to process as well. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, however. A sense of peace has settled over you, and you feel more at ease than you have been for a while. With Vynn’s support, whatever else may lie ahead suddenly doesn’t seem as daunting.
If the conversation with your parents goes as well as this, you might actually start to be able to accept all this as your new status-quo. As long as the people you care about accept you, you know you’ll be able to handle anything else.
No one can be strong by themselves, but once you have at least one person to rely on, everything becomes a lot more bearable. With your parents at your back and Vynn by your side, what is there to fear?
[[All that’s left is to make sure you keep them safe.|Chapter6.6]]
Vynn nods eagerly. “I agree. You’ve never done anything to the detriment of this kingdom, and yet they’d treat you like a criminal if they found out the truth. Your situation might be an unusual one, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated justly. I get why you’d be angry about that - it frustrates me too.”
“Thank you, Vynn. It’s nice to have my feelings validated. I don’t want to feel ungrateful for the life I’ve had so far, but…”
“I understand, $playername. I understand.”
The two of you continue riding along the path, both lost in your own thoughts. Surely this is a lot for Vynn to process as well. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, however. A sense of peace has settled over you, and you feel more at ease than you have been for a while. With Vynn’s support, whatever else may lie ahead suddenly doesn’t seem as daunting.
If the conversation with your parents goes as well as this, you might actually start to be able to accept all this as your new status-quo. As long as the people you care about accept you, you know you’ll be able to handle anything else.
No one can be strong by themselves, but once you have at least one person to rely on, everything becomes a lot more bearable. With your parents at your back and Vynn by your side, what is there to fear?
[[All that’s left is to make sure you keep them safe.|Chapter6.6]]
“So, you’re headed to your parents, right? You mentioned you weren’t sure if they <i>knew</i>,” Vynns says after a while.
“It’s not a conversation I look forward to,” you say, “though it is one that needs to happen at some point. I might as well do it now while I can.”
“That’s a good idea. I wouldn’t worry too much, $playername. Your parents care about you a lot, from what I’ve observed over the years,” Vynn says confidently. “But if it were <i>my</i> parents, I don’t think I’d be able to bring it up. I’d just have to cut all contact.”
You throw Vynn a sideways glance. “That’s what you want to do anyway. If you found out you were adopted, how would you react?”
“Is it bad to say I’d celebrate?” Vynn asks nonchalantly. “Though I’d still feel some responsibility to my siblings, so I don’t know if all that much would change.”
“Right. If you love each other, it doesn’t matter if you’re actually blood. It only matters if you don’t,” you sum up, drawing strength from that belief. Your parents will love you no matter what - you don’t ever want to doubt that.
“Exactly,” Vynn says with a yawn. “So even if the conversation will be uncomfortable, I’m sure you’ll figure everything out together. Though that does make me wonder…”
Vynn’s face darkens. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask.”
“What? Is it about the original child?” you ask, averting your gaze. “I don’t know what happened to them.”
“I didn’t think you’d know. But your parents might ask, and I don’t know if they’ll be able to accept that it’s just a mystery forever. I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, thinking that my child was somewhere out there.” Vynn gestures around you. “Though I don’t know where you’d even begin to search.”
“It’s been more than two decades,” you say. “It might be impossible to find them.”
“If they’re even alive,” Vynn says. “Sorry to bring up such a morbid topic.”
“Actually, I’m glad to have somebody to talk about it with in the first place,” you say.
“Discussing such matters with you is very much preferable to discussing them with my own internal thoughts. They aren’t very helpful, a lot of the time.”
“I can imagine.” You can feel Vynn’s deep brown eyes lingering on you for a while. They seem to be thinking hard about something.
You decide to give them the time they need - surely this is all still a lot for them to wrap their head around. Instead, you focus on enjoying the landscape around you. Wide cliffs and the river to your left, a village barely visible in the distance to your right. Everything is bright and sunlit, and you can hear the buzzing of insects from the tall grass at the side of the road.
Vynn clears their throat. “I was just wondering whether you want me to come with you? To see your parents? I know I kind of just inserted myself into your plans for today, so I get it if you’d rather do this alone.”
You didn’t think Vynn would be accompanying you all the way, but it is a tempting offer to have them along for moral support. On the other hand, is it right to include them in family matters?
[[Vynn is pretty much family already. “Sure. Your support would be appreciated.”|Chapter6.7A]]
[[“No, I think this is something I need to do by myself. But thank you for offering.”|Chapter6.7B]]!Your Disposition
<<if $lie is 0>>You are a beacon of honesty and would never even consider telling a lie unless it was an emergency. People consider you to be earnest and trustworthy.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 1>> Everybody tells lies sometimes, and you are no exception. You try to avoid it if you can, but you consider it necessary sometimes. People don't see any reason not to trust you.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 2>> Everybody tells lies sometimes, and you are no exception. You try to avoid it if you can, but you consider it necessary sometimes. People don't see any reason not to trust you.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 3>> Everybody tells lies sometimes, and you are no exception. You try to avoid it if you can, but you consider it necessary sometimes. People don't see any reason not to trust you.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 4>> You are a bit of a liar. It's starting to become both a skill and a habit for you. People might sense something suspicious about you, but you're good at pulling the wool over their eyes.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 5>> You are a bit of a liar. It's starting to become both a skill and a habit for you. People might sense something suspicious about you, but you're good at pulling the wool over their eyes.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 6>> You are a bit of a liar. It's starting to become both a skill and a habit for you. People might sense something suspicious about you, but you're good at pulling the wool over their eyes.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 7>> You practically breathe lies at this point. It comes easy to you and you don't have any qualms about it. Most people are completely fooled by you, though there are some who can tell there's something off about you.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 8>> You practically breathe lies at this point. It comes easy to you and you don't have any qualms about it. Most people are completely fooled by you, though there are some who can tell there's something off about you.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie is 9>> You practically breathe lies at this point. It comes easy to you and you don't have any qualms about it. Most people are completely fooled by you, though there are some who can tell there's something off about you.<<endif>>\
<<if $lie >= 10>> Lying has become a part of you to the point that you don't think you can stop. You've been lying to youself as well as others, and you're starting to lose track of the truth. It's no longer a secret that you're clearly hiding something and deceiving people. Most consider you suspicious.<<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 0>> You usually take things rather seriously. That doesn't mean you have no sense of humour, but you'd rather leave the joking around to other people. People usually take what you say seriously in turn. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 1>> You enjoy a sarcastic comment or good joke when it's appropriate, but never let it distract you from your duty. People see you as someone who is responsible and easy to talk to. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 2>> You enjoy a sarcastic comment or good joke when it's appropriate, but never let it distract you from your duty. People see you as someone who is responsible and easy to talk to. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 3>> You enjoy a sarcastic comment or good joke when it's appropriate, but never let it distract you from your duty. People see you as someone who is responsible and easy to talk to. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 4>> You live for the witty banter and funny quips. Whenever there's a chance to make someone laugh, you take it. People consider you to be quick-witted and fun, but they can't always tell when you are being serious. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 5>> You live for the witty banter and funny quips. Whenever there's a chance to make someone laugh, you take it. People consider you to be quick-witted and fun, but they can't always tell when you are being serious. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 6>> You live for the witty banter and funny quips. Whenever there's a chance to make someone laugh, you take it. People consider you to be quick-witted and fun, but they can't always tell when you are being serious. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 7>> You are the resident jokester, always making people laugh and brightening their day. People love to be around you, but they tend not to take you seriously. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 8>> You are the resident jokester, always making people laugh and brightening their day. People love to be around you, but they tend not to take you seriously. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour is 9>> You are the resident jokester, always making people laugh and brightening their day. People love to be around you, but they tend not to take you seriously. <<endif>>\
<<if $humour >= 10>> You are not just a clown, you're the entire circus. Humour is as much a part of you as it is your coping mechanism. People are starting to think you're ridiculous and that everything is always a joke or a prank with you, even when it's anything but. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 0>> You are as calm and serene as a frozen lake. Not much fazes you and you are in full control of your thoughts and emotions. People consider you to be dependable and level-headed. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 1>> You have your good days and your bad days, just like everyone else. Most of the time you are calm and in control, though every once in a while you slip up. People are understanding and admire you for hanging in there. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 2>> You have your good days and your bad days, just like everyone else. Most of the time you are calm and in control, though every once in a while you slip up. People are understanding and admire you for hanging in there. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 3>> You have your good days and your bad days, just like everyone else. Most of the time you are calm and in control, though every once in a while you slip up. People are understanding and admire you for hanging in there. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 4>> Things could be better. You are a bit of a mess, both emotionally and otherwise. People are starting to notice that there might be something wrong and are concerned for your well-being. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 5>> Things could be better. You are a bit of a mess, both emotionally and otherwise. People are starting to notice that there might be something wrong and are concerned for your well-being. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 6>> Things could be better. You are a bit of a mess, both emotionally and otherwise. People are starting to notice that there might be something wrong and are concerned for your well-being. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 7>> You are hanging by a thread at this point. It feels like you are always just seconds away from a breakdown. People are worried about you. Some of them wonder whether your judgement can still be trusted. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 8>> You are hanging by a thread at this point. It feels like you are always just seconds away from a breakdown. People are worried about you. Some of them wonder whether your judgement can still be trusted. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability is 9>> You are hanging by a thread at this point. It feels like you are always just seconds away from a breakdown. People are worried about you. Some of them wonder whether your judgement can still be trusted. <<endif>>\
<<if $instability >= 10>> Even people who don't know you can see that you are a bit unhinged. Some are worried about you, some are scared, and some are rooting for you to go over the edge. If things continue like this, you might lose yourself entirely.<<endif>>\
!Your Fighting Style
<<if $chapter == 1>> You haven't learned much about fighting. <<else>>
<<if $element == "fire">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "camp">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. Maeve has taught you a ritual to erase someone's memories. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "river">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. Maeve has taught you a ritual to erase someone's memories. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "crystal">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. Maeve has taught you a ritual to erase someone's memories.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "breeze">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. Maeve has taught you a ritual to erase someone's memories.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "blaze">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. Maeve has taught you some fae fire magic. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "torrent">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. Maeve has taught you some fae water magic. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "quake">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. Maeve has taught you some fae plant magic.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "storm">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. Maeve has taught you some fae wind magic.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "smoke">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. Maeve has taught you how to control smoke through magic. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "fog">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. Maeve has taught you how to create fake divinations with magic. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "dust">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. Maeve has taught you how to fake symptoms with fae magic.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "cloud">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. Maeve has taught you some darkness magic.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "hearth">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. Maeve has taught you some heat control. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "sink">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. Maeve has taught you how to summon water. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "field">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. Maeve has taught you how to conjure a barrier.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "fresh">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. Maeve has taught you how to conjure light.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "beam">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. You are decent at archery and can set your arrows aflame. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "drop">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. You are proficient at archery. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "stone">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. You are proficient at archery.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "current">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. You are decent at archery and can use it in conjunction with your illusions.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "ember">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. You can set your rapier ablaze. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "rain">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. You are proficient at throwing your spear as well. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "ground">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. You can fight just as well without your shield.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "wind">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. You have truly mastered using daggers.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "firewall">> You have been trained by Sir Asperame in all types of combat. However, you favour using a rapier and thus rely mostly on dexterity and precision. You also know how to use offensive fire magic. You can summon a wall of fire. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "ice">>
You have been trained by Lady Westwale in all types of combat. However, you favour using a spear and thus rely mostly on strategic positioning. You are also capable of performing divinations. You can use a spear either with both hands, or with a shield in one. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "mountain">>
You have been trained by Chev Minne in all types of combat. However, you favour using a sword and shield and thus rely mostly on defence. You also know how to use healing magic. You can also use a tower shield to maximise your defence.<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "front">>
You have been trained by Sir Stahlvart in all types of combat. However, you favour using a pair of daggers and thus rely mostly on speed and dexterity. You also know how to cast illusion magic. You are also decent at using short swords.<<endif>>\
<<endif>>\
<!-- IMPORTAN! INCLUDE THE CODE BELOW ON ALL STAT PAGES TO MAKE SURE THE LINK RETURNS THE USER TO THE LAST PASSAGE. IF YOU USE A NORMAL RETURN LINK IT WILL SIMPLY LOOP -->
<center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center><<if $chapter == 1>>
<b>Gaiapeia:</b> a continent, a kingdom of humans, and the name of the royal family
<b>Grahm territory:</b> a bountiful area in the north of the kingdom, known for its agriculture
<<endif>>\
<<if $chapter == 2>>
<b>Assassination of the Queen:</b> in the winter of 923, Queen Leanna was killed by a group of fae who managed to infiltrate the castle
<b>Champion:</b> the monarch's protector, their right hand, their closest confidante
<b>Chev:</b> gender neutral address for a knight
<b>Crest of Gaiapeia:</b> a sword and a scythe, crossed on a background of royal blue
<b>Dryad:</b> a type of fae, also known as tree spirits, their forms become intangible if they stray to far from the trees their bonded to
<b>Everboar:</b> immortal magical beast from the fae woods, smaller fae use them as mounts
<b>Fae:</b> non-human beings with powerful magic (dryads, banshees, elves, selkies, etc.)
<b>Gaiapeia:</b> a continent, a kingdom of humans, and the name of the royal family
<b>Gaitanis:</b> the capital of Gaiapeia, housing the royal castle, surrounded by a giant wall
<b>Gold:</b> one of the only metals that doesn't hurt fae, reasons as to why unknown
<b>Golden Apple:</b> fae food, poisonous to humans
<b>Grahm territory:</b> a bountiful area in the north of the kingdom, known for its agriculture
<b>Half-fae:</b> children of a human and a fae, allowed to live in Gaiapeia but seen as outcasts
<b>Hollowpeann territory:</b> a rocky area between Grahm territory and the capital, known for its mines
<b>Magic:</b> both humans and fae are capable of it, but fae are far more powerful, talent among humans varies a lot
<b>Winter Solstice:</b> a day of celebration, typically spent with family
<<endif>>\
<<if $chapter == 3>>
<b>Assassination of the Queen:</b> in the winter of 923, Queen Leanna was killed by a group of fae who managed to infiltrate the castle
<<if $bloodsteelinfo == "yes">> <b>Bloodsteel:</b> Steel forged from iron mixed with human blood, especially effective against fae <<endif>>\
<b>Champion:</b> the monarch's protector, their right hand, their closest confidante
<b>Changeling:</b> type of fae that can change their appearance to that of a human at will, not as weak to metals as other fae
<b>Chev:</b> gender neutral address for a knight
<b>Crest of Gaiapeia:</b> a sword and a scythe, crossed on a background of royal blue
<b>Dryad:</b> a type of fae, also known as tree spirits, their forms become intangible if they stray to far from the trees their bonded to
<b>Everboar:</b> immortal magical beast from the fae woods, smaller fae use them as mounts
<b>Fae:</b> non-human beings with powerful magic (dryads, banshees, elves, selkies, etc.)
<b>Gaiapeia:</b> a continent, a kingdom of humans, and the name of the royal family
<b>Gaitanis:</b> the capital of Gaiapeia, housing the royal castle, surrounded by a giant wall
<b>Gold:</b> one of the only metals that doesn't hurt fae, reasons as to why unknown
<b>Golden Apple:</b> fae food, poisonous to humans
<b>Grahm territory:</b> a bountiful area in the north of the kingdom, known for its agriculture
<b>Half-fae:</b> children of a human and a fae, allowed to live in Gaiapeia but seen as outcasts
<b>Hollowpeann territory:</b> a rocky area between Grahm territory and the capital, known for its mines
<b>Magic:</b> both humans and fae are capable of it, but fae are far more powerful, talent among humans varies a lot
<b>Otherworld:</b> the afterlife and the residence of the Old Gods
<b>Seelie Court:</b> hierarchical group of fae
<b>Winter Solstice:</b> a day of celebration, typically spent with family
<<endif>>\
<<if $chapter == 4>>
<b>Aurendil:</b> name of the brightest star and one of the Old Gods, God of Light
<b>Assassination of the Queen:</b> in the winter of 923, Queen Leanna was killed by a group of fae who managed to infiltrate the castle
<b>Bloodsteel:</b> steel forged from iron mixed with human blood, especially effective against fae
<b>Champion:</b> the monarch's protector, their right hand, their closest confidante
<b>Changeling:</b> a type of fae that can change their appearance to that of a human or humanoid fae at will, not as weak to metals as other fae
<b>Chev:</b> gender neutral address for a knight
<b>Crest of Gaiapeia:</b> a sword and a scythe, crossed on a background of royal blue
<b>Crimson Marshes:</b> part of the fae lands just outside of Westwale territory, known for its abundance of red clay
<b>Dullahan:</b> a humanoid type of fae that carries their own severed head around, usually but not always seen riding horses
<b>Dryad:</b> a type of fae, also known as tree spirits, their forms become intangible if they stray to far from the trees their bonded to
<b>Everboar:</b> immortal magical beast from the fae woods, smaller fae use them as mounts
<b>Fae:</b> non-human beings with powerful magic (dryads, banshees, elves, selkies, etc.)
<b>Fire-sprite:</b> short, winged fae with powerful fire magic
<b>Gaiapeia:</b> a continent, a kingdom of humans, and the name of the royal family
<b>Gaitanis:</b> the capital of Gaiapeia, housing the royal castle, surrounded by a giant wall
<b>Gold:</b> one of the only metals that doesn't hurt fae, reasons as to why unknown
<b>Golden Apple:</b> fae food, poisonous to humans
<b>Grahm territory:</b> a bountiful area in the north of the kingdom, known for its agriculture
<b>Half-fae:</b> children of a human and a fae, allowed to live in Gaiapeia but seen as outcasts
<b>Hollowpeann territory:</b> a rocky area between Grahm territory and the capital, known for its mines
<b>Mabs:</b> short for magical barrier devices, invented by Thianne
<b>Magic:</b> both humans and fae are capable of it, but fae are far more powerful; talent among humans varies a lot
<b>New Deity:</b> a deity exclusively worshipped by humans, it is believed that They have come to replace the Old Gods
<b>Old Gods:</b> a pantheon of Gods that used to be worshipped by fae and humans alike, though not many humans still believe in them today
<b>Otherleaf:</b> popular recreational drug
<b>Otherworld:</b> the afterlife and the residence of the Old Gods
<b>Pixie:</b> small winged fae, they live in large groups and are known for mischief
<b>Seelie Court:</b> hierarchical group of fae, diplomatic and moderate
<b>Unseelie Court:</b> hierarchical group of fae, violent and uncompromising
<b>Westwale territory:</b> located at the western border of the kingdom, plains and wetlands
<b>Wild Hunt:</b> group of fae that ride around and attack, seen as an omen of war and disaster
<b>Winter Solstice:</b> a day of celebration, typically spent with family
<b>Wyrd:</b> one of the Old Gods, Goddess of Fate
<<endif>>\
<center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>“The capital is called Gaitanis and is located right in the middle of our kingdom, Gaiapeia. It is not only our largest city, but also a hub of trade, academics, and art. The four different rivers flowing through Gaitanis allow people from all over to access it easily. However, Gaitanis is well-fortified at the same time. It is surrounded by a giant wall, which used to be made out of ordinary sandstone, but it is slowly being plated with iron, bit by bit.”
“To keep out the fae,” you assume.
“Just so. Gaitanis is of course also home to the royal castle, the royal library, the royal arthouse, and the Order of Royal Knights. That’s where we’re heading today.”
“The royal family lives in the castle. Do the knights live there too?” you ask.
“Some of them. After all, we must ensure the safety of our lieges at all times. But there are multiple barracks all throughout the city housing knights and squires alike. You can travel through the city by foot, of course, but you’ll soon find it is too large for that. Instead, there are roads for carriages and many canals between the rivers to allow travel by boat.”
You can’t even imagine a city of that size. It must be truly mind-boggling to look at.
[[“Anything else you would like to know?”|FatherQInterim]]“As a member of the Grahm family, becoming a knight is your right. Still, it is important to discern whether you have the makings for it. The talents, I suppose. That’s what the initiation is for. They will ask you some questions to judge your character and have you do a few simple tasks alone and in groups.”
You can’t help but be a bit worried. Your father must’ve understood the look on your face.
“Don’t worry. As much as I’ve taught you, you’ll pass easily. They are not particularly picky. They just want to make sure you’re of healthy body and mind and that you are open to learning and working with others.”
You’re still a little unsure. “If you say so. Still, maybe you could give me an example of one of those tasks?”
“Something like working together to catch a runaway dog or finding your way through a maze.”
“A maze? That doesn’t sound like a small task at all!” you complain but your father just laughs.
“Though who knows, I haven’t attended an initiation in three years. Things might have changed since then. But I can promise you this, even if I can't watch the testing, I'll be right outside, crossing my fingers for you."
You grimace. “It would be bad if you left in the middle of it only for me to fail. I’d have no way to get home!”
He laughs again and pats your shoulder good naturedly.
[[“Anything else you would like to know?”|FatherQInterim]]Your father sighs. “The fae… There’s much to say about them.”
You assume he means the growing tensions between them and you humans. Details have escaped your knowledge, but you know it’s bad and that everyone says war is on the horizon.
“As you know, our kingdom Gaiapeia is entirely surrounded by tall mountains and thick forests, home of the fae. It is a constant struggle for land – we need to expand our living space in accordance with our growing numbers, but the fae refuse to bargain or compromise. Instead, they attack us. They use trickery and magic to disguise themselves and infiltrate our midst before striking. The concept of honour is lost on them.”
You nod quietly. Your father has lost friends to the fae. It isn’t an easy topic for him to discuss.
“Fae are not allowed to live within Gaiapeias borders. Still, since there are a number of them hiding among us, there is a growing number of half-fae. Half-fae are allowed to keep living in Gaiapeia if it is their place of birth, but…”
“But?”
“People treat them with disdain.” Your father looks uncomfortable all of a sudden and you decide not to ask any further about half-fae.
Instead you ask: “What about humans living with the fae?”
“The fae lands are generally uninhabitable for us. If a human resides within these lands for extended periods of time, they tend to lose their mind until they are nothing but an empty shell.” He gives you a long, warning look. You’ve seen it before, you know what it means: Don’t run off into the woods.
Your father adds: “Both fae and humans are capable of magic, but fae magic is much more powerful and unique. They are not stronger than humans, however, as they are weak to certain metals, such as iron.”
Something inside your chest lurches but you ignore it. You look down at your mother’s brooch. “And silver?”
“Silver too. But not gold.” Your father shrugs. “Don’t ask me why.”
Your hands clasp the brooch. You feel nothing, of course, as you are wearing your gloves.
“Father –“
He interrupts you:
[[“Anything else you would like to know?”|FatherQInterim]]A wolfish grin splits your father’s face. “You’re interested in the prince, are you? I wonder what the future holds in store for the two of you.”
You frown in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know. You’ll become his knight, with luck even his Champion. But there’s something else you could be to him. We aren’t of noble birth for nothing. The Grahms might not be the most influential of the houses, but we’ve always been loyal and trustworthy. Worthy of a marriage, perhaps?”
You hide your face in your hands with a groan as your father starts laughing. “I haven’t even met him yet! Don’t poison the well, father.”
“If anything, I’m sweeting it,” he says before taking pity on you and changing the subject. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about Prince Az’Lean. He’s one day older than you and from the few times I’ve met him, I’d say he’s mature for his age. Refined, I guess you’d say.”
You try to picture him in your mind. A boy your age, but instead of playing in the river and climbing on trees you envision him reading books, discussing politics, and playing chess. Maybe even drinking wine? At least, that’s what you assume a mature prince would do.
“I wonder if he had a nice birthday yesterday,” you mutter to yourself.
Your father’s grin turns soft.
[[“Anything else you would like to know?”|FatherQInterim]]You wrack your brain for possible questions to ask.
[[“Tell me about the capital and the castle!”|FatherQ1]]
[[“Tell me about the initiation. What do I have to do?”|FatherQ2]]
[[“About the fae…”|FatherQ3]]
[[“What do you know about the prince?”|FatherQ4]]
[[“I think that’s all I want to know.”|Chapter1.6]]!Gaiapeian Calendar
<img src="images/Calendar.png">
<<if $chapter == 4>>
!Map of Gaiapeia
<img src="images/Map.png">
<<endif>>\
<<if $gods == "yes">>
!The Old Gods
<img src= "images/Gods.png">
<<endif>>\
<center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center><img src="images/Interlude.png">
You have officially become a squire, and soon a new routine takes over your life. Before you know it, you have become stronger, smarter, and adept at magic. You meet people and make experiences, both good and bad. The city of Gaitanis becomes your home and the knights your family.
[[Your name and pronouns remain the same.|Interlude1.11]]
[[You chose a new name and/or pronouns for yourself.|Interlude1.12]]And just like that, years go by. With the passage of time come changes, both big and small.
You grow into an adult, considered <<cycle "$height" autoselect>>
<<option "tall">>
<<option "average">>
<<option "short">>
<</cycle>> when compared to other humans.
No longer does your mother decide how you should wear your hair, so now you prefer to keep it <<cycle "$hairlength" autoselect>>
<<option "shaved">>
<<option "short">>
<<option "down to your chin">>
<<option "down to your shoulders">>
<<option "past your shoulders">>
<<option "braided">>
<<option "in a bun">>
<<option "in a ponytail">>
<</cycle>> and <<cycle "$hairstyle" autoselect>>
<<option "straight">>
<<option "wavy">>
<<option "curly">>
<<option "kinky">>
<</cycle>>.
<<if $element == "fire">> [[As for your training under Sir Asperame...|Interlude1.2A]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> [[As for your training under Lady Westwale...|Interlude1.2B]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> [[As for your training under Sir Stahlvart...|Interlude1.2C]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> [[As for your training under Chev Minne...|Interlude1.2D]] <<endif>>\This is what you prefer to be called now:
<<textbox "$playername" "Your Name">>
You identify as a <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>>
<<option "boy">>
<<option "girl">>
<<option "child">>
<</cycle>>, and will surely grow up to be an adult who is confident in <<cycle "$pronoun" autoselect>>
<<option "his">>
<<option "her">>
<<option "their">>
<</cycle>> gender identity.
And just like that, years go by. With the passage of time come even more changes, both big and small.
You grow into an adult, considered <<cycle "$height" autoselect>>
<<option "tall">>
<<option "average">>
<<option "short">>
<</cycle>> when compared to other humans.
No longer does your mother decide how you should wear your hair, so now you prefer to keep it <<cycle "$hairlength" autoselect>>
<<option "shaved">>
<<option "short">>
<<option "down to your chin">>
<<option "down to your shoulders">>
<<option "past your shoulders">>
<<option "braided">>
<<option "in a bun">>
<<option "in a ponytail">>
<</cycle>> and <<cycle "$hairstyle" autoselect>>
<<option "straight">>
<<option "wavy">>
<<option "curly">>
<<option "kinky">>
<</cycle>>.
<<if $element == "fire">> [[As for your training under Sir Asperame...|Interlude1.2A]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> [[As for your training under Lady Westwale...|Interlude1.2B]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> [[As for your training under Sir Stahlvart...|Interlude1.2C]] <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> [[As for your training under Chev Minne...|Interlude1.2D]] <<endif>>\Sir Asperame has turned out to be a very passionate teacher, even if he isn't the best at verbally explaining something. He has taught you the basics in all manner of combat, from ranged weapons to fighting on horseback and everything inbetween. Still, the rapier will always be your favourite. As such, you favour a fighting style based on dodging and parrying.
Furthermore, you have shown a shocking talent for magic, despite neither of your parents being adept at it. Sir Asperame has taught you mainly how to wield fire magic offensively, and you find it is a very useful ability to have even for everyday purposes.
The rapier he has gifted you syncs up well with your magic, allowing you two use it as a wand to direct your magic as well.
But Sir Asperame has not only honed your abilities, he has attemped to hone your character as well. Since he values valor, compassion, and justice above all else, he has tried to impart these values on you as well.
[[You were receptive of his teachings and admire the kind of knight he is.|Interlude1.2A-A]]
[[You rebelled against his teachings somewhat. The type of knight you want to be is different.|Interlude1.2A-B]]You welcome Sir Asperame's influence with open arms, and so you spend your formative years following in his footsteps. Naturally, his teachings and your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities and are respected among your peers.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]You reject Sir Asperame's attempts to shape and influence you, and so you spend your formative years rebelling against him whenever you see fit. Naturally, your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities, even though some might consider your approaches unconventional.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]Lady Westwale has turned out to be an excellent teacher, even if her expectations are almost impossible to meet. She has taught you the basics in all manner of combat, from ranged weapons to fighting on horseback and everything inbetween. Still, the spear will always be your favourite. As such, you favour a fighting style based on keeping your distance from your opponent.
Furthermore, you have shown a shocking talent for magic, despite neither of your parents being adept at it. Lady Westwale has taught you mainly how to conduct different types of divinations, and you find it is a very useful ability to have even for everyday purposes.
The spear she has gifted you syncs up well with your magic, allowing you two use it as a staff to direct your magic as well.
But Lady Westwale has not only honed your abilities, she has attemped to hone your character as well. Since she values cunning, vigilance, and keeping a cool head above all else, she has tried to impart these values on you as well.
[[You were receptive of her teachings and admire the kind of knight she is.|Interlude1.2B-A]]
[[You rebelled against her teachings somewhat. The type of knight you want to be is different.|Interlude1.2B-B]]You welcome Lady Westwale's influence with open arms, and so you spend your formative years following in her footsteps. Naturally, her teachings and your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities and are respected among your peers.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]You reject Lady Westwale's attempts to shape and influence you, and so you spend your formative years rebelling against her whenever you see fit. Naturally, your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities, even though some might consider your approaches unconventional.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]Sir Stahlvart has turned out to be an unconventional teacher, but even though his lessons are confusing at times, there is always profound wisdom to be found within them. He has taught you the basics in all manner of combat, from ranged weapons to fighting on horseback and everything inbetween. Still, the twin daggers will always be your favourite. As such, you favour a fighting style that is up close and personal.
Furthermore, you have shown a shocking talent for magic, despite neither of your parents being adept at it. Sir Stahlvart has taught you mainly how to use illusion magic in and out of combat, and you find it is a very useful ability to have even for everyday purposes.
The daggers he has gifted you sync up well with your magic, allowing you two use them to channel and direct your magic.
But Sir Stahlvart has not only honed your abilities, he has attemped to hone your character as well. Since he values adaptability, patience, and empathy above all else, he has tried to impart these values on you as well.
[[You were receptive of his teachings and admire the kind of knight he is.|Interlude1.2C-A]]
[[You rebelled against his teachings somewhat. The type of knight you want to be is different.|Interlude1.2C-B]]You welcome Sir Stahlvart's influence with open arms, and so you spend your formative years following in his footsteps. Naturally, his teachings and your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities and are respected among your peers.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]You reject Sir Stahlvart's attempts to shape and influence you, and so you spend your formative years rebelling against him whenever you see fit. Naturally, your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities, even though some might consider your approaches unconventional.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]Chev Minne has turned out to be a strict teacher, but they are always patient and never aggressive. They have taught you the basics in all manner of combat, from ranged weapons to fighting on horseback and everything inbetween. Still, the classic sword and shield will always be your favourite. As such, you favour a defensive fighting style focused on keeping your allies safe.
Furthermore, you have shown a shocking talent for magic, despite neither of your parents being adept at it. Chev Minne has taught you mainly how to use healing magic, and you find it is a very useful ability to have even for everyday purposes.
The sword and shield they have gifted you sync up well with your magic, allowing you to cast it even while in battle.
But Chev Minne has not only honed your abilities, they have attemped to hone your character as well. Since they value an unbreakable focus, stubborness, and selflessness above all else, they have tried to impart these values on you as well.
[[You were receptive of their teachings and admire the kind of knight they are.|Interlude1.2D-A]]
[[You rebelled against their teachings somewhat. The type of knight you want to be is different.|Interlude1.2D-B]]You welcome Chev Minne's influence with open arms, and so you spend your formative years following in their footsteps. Naturally, their teachings and your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities and are respected among your peers.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]You reject Chev Minne's attempts to shape and influence you, and so you spend your formative years rebelling against them whenever you see fit. Naturally, your experiences change you. Overall, you gain confidence in your abilities, even though some might consider your approaches unconventional.
[[However, you are not the only one who has grown.|Interlude1.3]]Under Lady Westwale's teachings, Vynn turns into a fine warrior themselves. They are nothing short of a crack shot with their bow, have an excellent strategic mind, and are able to cast water magic almost as well as a selkie. No amount of success or praise can endear them to the life of a knight, however. Even years later, they resent having to fight and put their life on the line for a kingdom they don't care all that much about.
It isn't a rare occurence to find Vynn skipping training to play their lute instead. It's clear they'd leave everything behind and become a wandering bard if they didn't fear the backlash on their family.
Even despite these circumstances, or maybe because of them, you and Vynn have become proper friends. You fight well together and you appreciate Vynn's levity even during the darkest of times.
[[And dark times there are.|Interlude1.4]]It happend in the year 923 during the cold days of the Frozen Moon. A group of fae, led by a particularly devious dryad, managed to infiltrate not only Gaitanis, but the castle itself. Powerful illusion magic must have been at work, combined with the weakness caused by a harsh winter.
You weren't in the capital that day. You had been visiting your parents to celebrate the winter solstice and hadn't been able to return in time due to heavy snowfall. You can't help but wonder if you could've helped or if you would've died.
There weren't many casualties that day. A few guards and servants.
And the queen.
Queen Leanna Gaiapeia, assassinated in her own throne room. Assassinated right in front of her husband and son.
You hadn't spent all that much time with Az'Lean before the incident, but you would see him during festivities and events and sometimes he'd join you for a ride or a bout of training. You remember how curious he'd been, how his sky-shard eyes shone in wonder at every little thing, and how he'd smile like there was no tomorrow.
Maybe there was no tomorrow for him. You're sure a part of him must have died with his mother that day. He's been different ever since. Distant, and with a little bit more darkness in his eyes.
The king too was never the same afterwards. A maddening desire for revenge rekindled the growing tensions between humans and fae like oil thrown into an open fire.
And so some more years pass, until that fated day is fast approaching. Prince Az'Leans twenty-first birthday, the day you will offcially be knighted, and the day he finally chooses his Champion.
<<set $chapter to 2>> <i>Your codex has been updated.</i>
[[End of Chapter 1 - A Day of Destiny|Chapter2.1]]<img src="images/Prologue.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Grahm Territory
!!!Year 908, Cherry Moon
It is a warm, humid night in the kingdom of Gaiapeia. The fields and orchards within Grahm territory are completely silent and empty, void even of animal wildlife. You hear nothing but the rustling of fabric around you and your own desperate wails.
Strong, yet wrinkled hands are holding you up with ease. You don't have the vocabulary to tell them to put you down, so you scream and cry instead. A burning sensation spreads through your lungs as you try your best to be heard for miles. Confusion and fear fuel your efforts.
"Hush now," a raspy voice whispers to you. "Be calm and look here."
The person turns you around so that you are facing the ground. For a moment, you fear they will drop you, but their grip is firm and oddly gentle.
The edge of a pond comes into view, crystal clear water framed by soft, dewy grass. You're unsure as to what exactly you should be looking at, and your gaze naturally wanders to your reflection in the calm water below.
Something grotesque stares back at you - grey skin and milky red eyes. You're about to start crying again when you feel a hand softly stroking your misshapen head.
"Don't worry, it's alright. You can change," the person holding you whispers. You try to get a look at their reflection as well, but all you can make out is a black cloak, hiding their features from sight.
You could <i>change</i>.
You don't really understand what those words mean but you don't have to. Purely on instinct, a strange feeling arises within your gut and spreads all the way down to your toes and up to the tips of your pointed ears. Once again, you force yourself to face your reflection.
This time, the pair of eyes staring back at you isn't red. Your eyes, they are now a glittering <<cycle "$eyes" autoselect>>
<<option "ice blue">>
<<option "steel grey">>
<<option "forest green">>
<<option "chocolate brown">>
<</cycle>>. <i>(click to cycle through options)</i>
Slowly and subtly, your skintone starts to shift from an ashy grey to a healthy <<cycle "$skin" autoselect>>
<<option "ivory">>
<<option "rosy">>
<<option "olive">>
<<option "bronze">>
<<option "dark brown">>
<<option "ebony">>
<</cycle>> hue.
Where your uneven head had been bald before, soft tufts of hair are sprouting up in a beautiful shade of <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>>
<<option "platinum blonde">>
<<option "gold blonde">>
<<option "copper red">>
<<option "deep auburn">>
<<option "light brown">>
<<option "dark brown">>
<<option "pitch black">>
<</cycle>>.
Staring back at you is an absolutely normal looking human baby, complete with a big toothless grin on <<cycle "$pronoun" autoselect>>
<<option "his">>
<<option "her">>
<<option "their">>
<</cycle>> face.
"What an adorable <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>>
<<option "boy">>
<<option "girl">>
<<option "child">>
<</cycle>> you are!" the person holding you coos. "Now make sure you stay like that, got it?"
You giggle happily in response. For some reason, you feel content and sleepy - as if there was nothing to harm or scare you now. No longer do you feel the need to scream or cry.
"Great, then let's get you in that big house over there before I get attached. You'll have a very important role to play in the future, you know?"
Finally, the person turns you around again and you sneak a peek up at their face.
[[A row of sharp, pointy teeth greets you, contorted in a grin of pure malice|Chapter 1]].<<if $lovemet == 1>>
!Vynn
<b>Vynn, a fellow knight. They have been your best friend for the longest time. </b>
<<if $Vynn > 80 >> You and Vynn are very close. You have come to rely on each other on an instinctual level. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 60 && $Vynn < 81 >> You and Vynn are good friends. There is a real sense of camaraderie between you two. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 40 && $Vynn < 61 >> You and Vynn get along fine. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 20 && $Vynn < 41 >> There is some animosity between you and Vynn. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 21 >> It seems your relationship with Vynn is irreperably broken. <<endif>>\
<<endif>>\
<<if $lovemet == 2>>
!Vynn
<b>Vynn, a fellow knight. They have been your best friend for the longest time. </b>
<<if $Vynn > 80 >> You and Vynn are very close. You have come to rely on each other on an instinctual level. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 60 && $Vynn < 81 >> You and Vynn are good friends. There is a real sense of camaraderie between you two. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 40 && $Vynn < 61 >> You and Vynn get along fine. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 20 && $Vynn < 41 >> There is some animosity between you and Vynn. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 21 >> It seems your relationship with Vynn is irreperably broken. <<endif>>\
!Prince Az'Lean
<b> Az’Lean, Prince of Gaiapeia. He is your liege and the one you are sworn to protect. </b>
<<if $Az > 80 >> You and Az are inseperable. Who you are doesn’t matter, you belong at his side. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 60 && $Az < 81>> You and Az’Lean have become proper friends. He trusts you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 40 && $Az < 61>> You and Az’Lean have a respectful relationship. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 20 && $Az < 41>> There is some distrust between you and Az’Lean. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az < 21>> Az’Lean thinks you’re a traitor. <<endif>>\
<<endif>>\
<<if $lovemet == 3>>
!Vynn
<b>Vynn, a fellow knight. They have been your best friend for the longest time. </b>
<<if $Vynn > 80 >> You and Vynn are very close. You have come to rely on each other on an instinctual level. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 60 && $Vynn < 81 >> You and Vynn are good friends. There is a real sense of camaraderie between you two. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 40 && $Vynn < 61 >> You and Vynn get along fine. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 20 && $Vynn < 41 >> There is some animosity between you and Vynn. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 21 >> It seems your relationship with Vynn is irreperably broken. <<endif>>\
!Prince Az'Lean
<b> Az’Lean, Prince of Gaiapeia. He is your liege and the one you are sworn to protect. </b>
<<if $Az > 80 >> You and Az are inseperable. Who you are doesn’t matter, you belong at his side. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 60 && $Az < 81>> You and Az’Lean have become proper friends. He trusts you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 40 && $Az < 61>> You and Az’Lean have a respectful relationship. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 20 && $Az < 41>> There is some distrust between you and Az’Lean. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az < 21>> Az’Lean thinks you’re a traitor. <<endif>>\
!Lady Maeve
<b> Maeve, a powerful dryad. She is your teacher in the ways of the fae. </b>
<<if $Maeve > 80 >> You and Maeve are a dynamic duo. Your company brings her great joy. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 60 && $Maeve < 81 >> You and Maeve have become fast friends. She enjoys spending time with you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 40 && $Maeve < 61 >> You and Maeve are on good terms. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 20 && $Maeve < 41 >> There are some growing tensions between you and Maeve. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve < 21 >> You have utterly failed to meet Maeve’s expectations. <<endif>>\
<<endif>>\
<<if $lovemet == 4>>
!Vynn
<b>Vynn, a fellow knight. They have been your best friend for the longest time. </b>
<<if $Vynn > 80 >> You and Vynn are very close. You have come to rely on each other on an instinctual level. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 60 && $Vynn < 81 >> You and Vynn are good friends. There is a real sense of camaraderie between you two. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 40 && $Vynn < 61 >> You and Vynn get along fine. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 20 && $Vynn < 41 >> There is some animosity between you and Vynn. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 21 >> It seems your relationship with Vynn is irreperably broken. <<endif>>\
!Prince Az'Lean
<b> Az’Lean, Prince of Gaiapeia. He is your liege and the one you are sworn to protect. </b>
<<if $Az > 80 >> You and Az are inseperable. Who you are doesn’t matter, you belong at his side. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 60 && $Az < 81>> You and Az’Lean have become proper friends. He trusts you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 40 && $Az < 61>> You and Az’Lean have a respectful relationship. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 20 && $Az < 41>> There is some distrust between you and Az’Lean. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az < 21>> Az’Lean thinks you’re a traitor. <<endif>>\
!Lady Maeve
<b> Maeve, a powerful dryad. She is your teacher in the ways of the fae. </b>
<<if $Maeve > 80 >> You and Maeve are a dynamic duo. Your company brings her great joy. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 60 && $Maeve < 81 >> You and Maeve have become fast friends. She enjoys spending time with you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 40 && $Maeve < 61 >> You and Maeve are on good terms. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 20 && $Maeve < 41 >> There are some growing tensions between you and Maeve. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve < 21 >> You have utterly failed to meet Maeve’s expectations. <<endif>>\
!Thianne
<b> Thianne, a sorceress. She is the most intelligent person you know. </b>
<<if $Thianne > 80 >> You and Thianne are comepletely in sync. You hardly need words to communicate with each other. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 60 && $Thianne < 81 >> You and Thianne have become true friends. You regard each other as equals. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 40 && $Thianne < 61 >> You and Thianne see each other as allies. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 20 && $Thianne < 41 >> Thianne doesn’t think much of you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne < 21 >> Thianne barely remembers your name. <<endif>>\
<<endif>>\
<<if $lovemet == 5>>
!Vynn
<b>Vynn, a fellow knight. They have been your best friend for the longest time. </b>
<<if $Vynn > 80 >> You and Vynn are very close. You have come to rely on each other on an instinctual level. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 60 && $Vynn < 81 >> You and Vynn are good friends. There is a real sense of camaraderie between you two. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 40 && $Vynn < 61 >> You and Vynn get along fine. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn > 20 && $Vynn < 41 >> There is some animosity between you and Vynn. <<endif>>\
<<if $Vynn < 21 >> It seems your relationship with Vynn is irreperably broken. <<endif>>\
!Prince Az'Lean
<b> Az’Lean, Prince of Gaiapeia. He is your liege and the one you are sworn to protect. </b>
<<if $Az > 80 >> You and Az are inseperable. Who you are doesn’t matter, you belong at his side. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 60 && $Az < 81>> You and Az’Lean have become proper friends. He trusts you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 40 && $Az < 61>> You and Az’Lean have a respectful relationship. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az > 20 && $Az < 41>> There is some distrust between you and Az’Lean. <<endif>>\
<<if $Az < 21>> Az’Lean thinks you’re a traitor. <<endif>>\
!Lady Maeve
<b> Maeve, a powerful dryad. She is your teacher in the ways of the fae. </b>
<<if $Maeve > 80 >> You and Maeve are a dynamic duo. Your company brings her great joy. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 60 && $Maeve < 81 >> You and Maeve have become fast friends. She enjoys spending time with you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 40 && $Maeve < 61 >> You and Maeve are on good terms. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 20 && $Maeve < 41 >> There are some growing tensions between you and Maeve. <<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve < 21 >> You have utterly failed to meet Maeve’s expectations. <<endif>>\
!Thianne
<b> Thianne, a sorceress. She is the most intelligent woman you know. </b>
<<if $Thianne > 80 >> You and Thianne are comepletely in sync. You hardly need words to communicate with each other. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 60 && $Thianne < 81 >> You and Thianne have become true friends. You regard each other as equals. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 40 && $Thianne < 61 >> You and Thianne see each other as allies. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne > 20 && $Thianne < 41 >> Thianne doesn’t think much of you. <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianne < 21 >> Thianne barely remembers your name. <<endif>>\
!Lester
<b> Lester, a half-sprite. He is a servant at the castle and hides in plain sight, much like you. </b>
<<if $Lester > 80 >> You and Lester are thick as thieves. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for each other. <<endif>>\
<<if $Lester > 60 && $Lester < 81 >> You and Lester have grown close. You managed to win him over. <<endif>>\
<<if $Lester > 40 && $Lester < 61 >> You and Lester have some interest in each other. <<endif>>\
<<if $Lester > 20 && $Lester < 41 >> Lester finds your presence annoying. <<endif>>\
<<if $Lester < 21 >> The sight of your face sickens Lester. <<endif>>\ <<endif>>\
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<center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center><<set $lie to 0>>
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</div><b>MISPLACED</b>“Yes, changelings and most other fae are conceived and born in much the same way as humans. There are a few differences though. Changelings can only conceive when they are untransformed, and the pregnant partner shouldn’t transform until after the child is born to prevent any possible complications.”
“So I definitely have a pair of biological parents and they gave me away?” You try to picture what your biological parents might look like but can’t quite manage it. It doesn’t really feel like it matters, considering they immediately got rid of you after your birth. There’s no helping the bitterness rising in your chest.
Lady Maeve smiles sadly. “Not necessarily. They might have died or you might have been taken from them, I’m not in the know about these things. But you are correct, oftentimes changeling parents will leave their child with a different family.”
Your stomach is twisting itself into knots and you’re forced to take a deep breath. “But why?”
“Maybe it is simply in their nature. Us dryads, for instance, grow up entirely without parents.” She doesn’t sound at all bothered about it and you realise that the culture between humans and fae might be much more fundamentally different than you expected. Talking to Maeve doesn’t feel like there’s no common ground between you, but you figure that’s exactly why she was the one they sent to talk to you.
“Can changelings have children with other kinds of fae or even humans?” you ask next.
Lady Maeve nods. “They can, yes, but the child will always be a changeling. There’s no such thing as a half-changeling.”
You wonder whether this will ever be a concern for you, but it is definitely something you should be aware of - no matter where your life is headed.
“I see. Thank you for your explanation.”
Lady Maeve smiles sweetly, playing with a strand of her hair. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
[[“I'd like to know more about the fae in general.“|Chapter4.14]]<img src="images/Title.png">
!M I S P L A C E D
!!A Changeling's Tale
!!!Demo V8.2
For decades, the human kingdom of Gaiapeia has been in conflict with the fae living in the surrounding lands. There's no end in sight - in fact, an outright war seems more probable with each passing day.
You are the child of Lady and Sir Grahm, a noble family who has been serving the crown for generations. Eager to follow in your father's footsteps, you have been training for years to become a knight worthy of being Prince Az'Lean's Champion - his right hand, his closest confidant, the one who protects his life from the growing danger of the fae.
When the time finally comes and you are chosen for the position, it's a dream come true. You couldn't be happier, but just one day later on your 21st birthday, a terrible truth is revealed to you.
You are a <b>changeling</b> - a fae child that was smuggled into a human family with only one purpose: to gain the prince's trust and use it against him.
A war between humans and fae is slowly but surely brewing, and the outcome depends entirely on your choices.
Will you choose a side or try to make peace?
Will you embrace what you are or reject it?
And who will you let in on your secret?
----
* Warning: This story contains potentially triggering content. There will be graphic depictions of violence, death, discrimination, body-image issues, mental illness (including panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and paranoia), discussions of genocide, war, and terminal illness. Discretion is advised.
* This is a demo version. All content is subject to change. Please note that your saves might not be compatible with future versions of the game.
[[START YOUR TALE|Prologue]]by Calliope<img src="images/Title.png"><<nobr>>
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<</nobr>>“I’d be honoured to accompany you,” Vynn says with a bright smile. “Though if at any point you feel like my presence is preventing you or your parents from speaking freely, I don’t mind just stepping outside and waiting.”
“I doubt it’ll come to that,” you say. “In fact, I feel like your presence will be beneficial. You know how to make people feel at ease, and I know my parents like you.”
Vynn averts their face, hiding their expression. “That’s…that’s a pretty big compliment if that’s true.”
“Of course it’s true, Vynn!” You’re a bit surprised. Usually Vynn is aware of the effect they have on people and has no problem being confident about it. Most people enjoy their company, as far as you know.
“In any case,” Vynn says, wilfully changing the topic, “I assume we’ll not stay the night? I don’t know about you, but I have patrol duty tomorrow, so I need to get back to the castle by morning at the absolute latest.”
“The plan is to have the conversation with my parents and then immediately start heading back. I too must return to the castle tonight,” you explain. “My parents will likely also want time to process everything, so I don’t want to force a surprise stay on them for longer than I have to.”
“Sounds good to me, $playername.”
The two of you keep following the Cassja River upstream, nearing the border to Grahm territory. Once you cross over, you immediately notice the change in landscape. Cliffs and rocky terrain are replaced by bountiful fields and meadows stretching as far as the eye can see. The road becomes more populated, and you have to dodge carriages heading your way a few times.
Soon you start recognising the villages you pass by name, and even some of the travellers on the road are familiar faces. Whenever they see you, they can’t help but offer greetings which you gladly return.
You’re home.
“How come Grahm territory is so much more inviting than Hollowpeann territory,” Vynn complains. As they ride beneath a tree with low-hanging branches, they lazily pluck one of its pink flowers. “By that I mean the landscape and the people.”
“I do agree with you, though of course I am biased,” you say, feasting your eyes on the sights around you. “At least Hollowpeann territory isn’t as bad as Westwale territory.”
Vynn makes a noise of disgust. “You’re right. Westwale territory is just so…disgustingly wet all the time.”
The two of you continue making idle conversation for a while until you reach the orchards surrounding your family mansion.
“This is it,” Vynn says before taking a deep breath. “Do you need a minute to mentally prepare?”
You hesitate for a moment. “Maybe. Let’s head to the stables first, before we do anything else.”
Vynn nods, awkwardly stretching their arms in their saddle.
It has been a long ride, and the sun will soon begin setting. You don’t look forward to the ride back home in complete darkness.
You lead Vynn up the hill towards your family’s mansion, stopping at the stable. After dropping Faiche and Vynn’s horse off, you slowly make your way up the gravel path to your family’s mansion, overlooking the surrounding orchards from its position atop the hill. The sun is peeking over the hilltop, bathing the trees and fields in a warm, golden glow.
Despite the warmth, the birdsong, and the sweet fragrances of blooming flowers, it feels more like winter to you. Your hands have grown cold, you can feel your knees shaking a little with every step, and you feel like your feet are threatening to freeze to the ground if you hesitate for too long.
Vynn’s presence helps, but you can’t completely stop the feeling of dread that threatens to resurface now that you’re actually here.
Despite the looming dread, the Grahm mansion appears to you like a refuge, when in truth it contains the source of your anxiety. Like being pulled into two different directions, you make your way up quite slowly, stopping every once in a while to take a deep breath and gather yourself. You freeze in your tracks as soon as you reach the front entrance.
"Have you thought about how you want to approach this?" Vynn asks, watching you patiently.
You suppose it is something you should consider before barging in. You should think about what you want to say while you have the chance. In the end, there’s no point to any of this if you don’t reveal the entire truth of what you’ve learned, so that’s something you have to come to terms with. Your parents might ask difficult questions, and you need to be prepared for that.
You’ve stopped by unannounced, so that’s what you’ll have to explain first. It might be best to just say there is something you wanted to talk about, to start with.
You think about it for a moment before giving them your answer.
[[Straightforward. Just come out and say it, and explain afterwards.|Chapter6.8A1]]
[[Chronological. Walk them through everything that has happened and that you’ve learnt so far.|Chapter6.8A2]]
[[Subtle. Slowly feel your way through it, trying to figure out what they know and where they stand.|Chapter6.8A3]]“Yes, that’s probably the right decision. My presence might prevent your parents from speaking freely,” Vynn says. “I suppose in that case, I’ll find a tavern in the area to spend some time in while you’re with your parents. Then we can ride back together once you’re finished.”
“That sounds like a plan. There’s a great place just beyond our orchards - they sell a lot of local fruit wine for pretty cheap, and around this time of year they also have tables outside on the meadow,” you say, trying to recall the tavern’s name. “I think it was called something like ‘The Resting Cat’ - you’ll know it when you see it.”
“I think I’ve heard of that before. Though I don’t know if getting drunk this far from the castle is the best idea.”
You can’t help but chuckle. “Maybe not. I just don’t want you to be bored waiting for me.”
Vynn dismisses your worry with a wave of their hand. “Only boring people get bored. I’ll just make my own fun if I have to.”
The two of you keep following the Cassja River upstream, nearing the border to Grahm territory. Once you cross over, you immediately notice the change in landscape. Cliffs and rocky terrain are replaced by bountiful fields and meadows stretching as far as the eye can see. The road becomes more populated, and you have to dodge carriages heading your way a few times.
Soon you start recognising the villages you pass by name, and even some of the travellers on the road are familiar faces. Whenever they see you, they can’t help but offer greetings which you gladly return.
You’re home.
“How come Grahm territory is so much more inviting than Hollowpeann territory,” Vynn complains. As they ride beneath a tree with low-hanging branches, they lazily pluck one of its pink flowers. “By that I mean the landscape and the people.”
“I do agree with you, though of course I am biased,” you say, feasting your eyes on the sights around you. “At least Hollowpeann territory isn’t as bad as Westwale territory.”
Vynn makes a noise of disgust. “You’re right. Westwale territory is just so…disgustingly wet all the time.”
The two of you continue making idle conversation for a while until you reach the orchards surrounding your family mansion.
“So I just follow this road around the hill to get to that tavern?” Vynn asks, awkwardly stretching their arms in their saddle.
It has been a long ride, and the sun will soon begin setting. You don’t look forward to the ride back home in complete darkness.
“That’s right. I’ll come pick you up once I’m finished with my parents. It won’t take too long, since I have to get back to the castle tonight,” you explain.
“Then until later,” Vynn says with an encouraging grin before riding off in a different direction.
[[Now that you are alone, you can’t help but feel that rising dread once more.|Chapter6.8B]]
While some names are shared between humans and fae, there are also certain names that are most common among human nobles such as yourself. These types of names are often associated with traits such as honour, tradition, and strong principles.
Noblewomen might be named Ciara, Elaine, Morrigan, Onora, or Talulla.
Noblemen might be named Cael, Gareth, Liam, Ronan or Yvain.
Nobles of all genders might be named Aster, Blair, Laverne, Morgan, Quinn, Robin, Shea or Tristin.
The one your mother chose for you is:
<<textbox "$playername" "Your Name">>
"If you don't get up now, you'll be late!"
"Yes, mum, I'm up! Don't worry,” you shout back.
With a mix of excitement and dread, you crawl out from under your covers. It is a warm, late spring day and your bare feet patter across the wooden floor as you rush over to your curtains to open them. Sunlight comes flooding into your room and you can see pink and white cherry blossoms on the trees outside.
It takes you a little bit of effort to open the window, as the wood is old and warped with age. Your room is on the upper floor of your manor, right across from the orchard. Fresh morning air fills your lungs as you poke your head out and take a good look at the scenery. If all goes well today, you won't see it again until the winter holidays.
Your chest tightens momentarily, but you cannot discern what exactly you’re feeling. It’s all tangled up inside, a complicated mess of hopes and fears.
As much as you would like to spend a little more time reminiscing and burning every last detail of your room into your mind, you know your mother is already waiting for you. You can't be late today.
Naturally, this means you need to get ready for the day quickly, while also making sure your appearance is proper.
[[You cannot contain your excitement. While you get dressed, you run around, pretending that you are already a knight who is getting ready for an important battle.|Chapter1.1A]]
[[You get dressed as calmly and thoroughly as possible. You cannot risk forgetting something or messing up. Not today.|Chapter1.1B]]After dropping Faiche off at the nearby stable, you slowly make your way up the gravel path to your family’s mansion, overlooking the surrounding orchards from its position atop the hill. The sun is still peeking over the hilltop, bathing the trees and fields in a warm, golden glow.
Despite the warmth, the birdsong, and the sweet fragrances of blooming flowers, it feels more like winter to you. Your hands have grown cold, you can feel your knees shaking a little with every step, and you feel like your feet are threatening to freeze to the ground if you hesitate for too long.
Despite the looming dread, the Grahm mansion appears to you like a refuge, when in truth it contains the source of your anxiety. Like being pulled into two different directions, you make your way up quite slowly, stopping every once in a while to take a deep breath and gather yourself.
You should think about what you want to say while you have the chance. In the end, there’s no point to any of this if you don’t reveal the entire truth of what you’ve learned, so that’s something you have to come to terms with. Your parents might ask difficult questions, and you need to be prepared for that.
When you reach the entrance, you stop once more, trying to sort through everything in your head. You’ve stopped by unannounced, so that’s what you’ll have to explain first. It might be best to just say there is something you wanted to talk about, to start with.
You reach out and open the front door before stepping inside. Everything in the entrance hall is as orderly and inviting as always, with freshly cut flowers arranged artfully in vases on both sides of the doorway.
“Mother? Father? I have come to visit!” you call out, expecting your parents to be home. It would be more than just a little awkward if they had chosen exactly tonight to go out.
“$playername?” you can hear your father’s booming voice echo through the building. “What a surprise! Quick, come join us for dinner.”
You breathe a shaky sigh of relief as you close the front door behind you, heading deeper inside. The dining room is well lit - partially from the setting sun and partially from a candelabra set up in the middle of the table.
Your parents are already seated, though no food has been served yet. They both look well, from what you can tell. Your father is still dressed in his leathers and furs, even though it’s well past spring and into summer at this point, but his eyes are bright and he’s grinning at the sight of you. Your mother is wearing a navy blue linen dress, and her hair is braided loosely over her shoulder. She too smiles when she sees you, beckoning you over.
“You’ve arrived at just the right time,” she says. “We’re about to have a most exquisite roast, and I’m sure there’s enough for you as well.”
“It’s been a long ride, so I’ll gladly take you up on that,” you say, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from your mother and to the left of your father. Now that you’re here, the temptation to enjoy a good dinner and then simply leave again is strong.
Do you really have to tell them about it <i>now</i>? Surely some other day would be better…
No. No. If you don’t do it now, you know you may never get the chance to. It has to be now.
As dinner is served, your parents are catching you up on what’s been going on in Grahm territory. Soon enough, it’s your turn to talk.
“And how have you been?” your father asks between sips of ale. “Is there a reason for this surprise visit? Usually, you send a letter ahead of time.”
This is it. You’ll have to consider carefully how to get across what you want to say and ask.
What approach would be best?
[[Straightforward. Just come out and say it, and explain afterwards.|Chapter6.9B1]]
[[Chronological. Walk them through everything that has happened and that you’ve learnt so far.|Chapter6.9B2]]
[[Subtle. Slowly feel your way through it, trying to figure out what they know and where they stand.|Chapter6.9B3]]
It might seem a little tactless to just blurt this sort of thing out over dinner, but if it’s going to cause you more stress it’s better to get it over with as quickly as possible.
“I came here to talk to you because I have had a troubling revelation. We- we aren’t related by blood, and… and I am a changeling. Do you- do you know anything about that?”
Even as you say it, you know this might not have been the best way to go about it. Your mother lets her knife and fork drop in shock before pressing her hands to her mouth. Your father jumps up out of his seat, as if ready to run. They stare at you, before slowly looking at each other - exchanging meaningful gazes.
“That is-” your mother starts but her voice breaks. She clears her throat, clearly trying to keep her countenance. “That is… not something I expected to hear today. I might need something stronger than wine for this.”
Her $eyes eyes bore into you. “First of all, $playername… Are you certain? Did you…confirm this, in any way?”
Your father lets himself fall back into his chair, repeatedly running a hand through his beard. “A changeling…”
By their shock, it seems that they didn’t know… Which unfortunately means the onus of explaining the situation rests entirely on your shoulders.
“Perhaps I should just tell you everything I know.” You begin to recount everything that happened after the celebration of Az’Lean’s birthday - how you met Maeve and what she told you, how you saw the truth for yourself, and all that transpired after.
Your parents are very still while they listen to you, almost frozen. Once you are caught up to the present, the shock on their faces has ebbed away, leaving something more muddled behind. Something equal measures sorrow and relief.
“So that’s it,” your father says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “While a part of me finds all of this hard to believe, I feel instinctively that everything you’ve told us is the truth.”
“It is,” you confirm, waiting with bated breath for their reactions. Your heart is beating so fast that it makes your head throb, and you feel the strong urge to get up and begin pacing around the room.
Your mothers sighs faintly. “I have to admit, I could have gone my entire life without learning of this.”
You nod. You feel much the same way.
“That being said, it feels like a heavy burden being lifted off my shoulders,” she continues. “All these years, I knew that there was <i>something</i>, but I never knew what. I thought there was something wrong with me. I knew I always loved you, but it was never like other mothers described the feeling. It wasn’t as distinct as I expected it to be. I always cared for you, but in a way I would care for all the people in my life. But knowing this…”
A pained expression crosses her face. “You will always be my child, $playername, but knowing that we are not blood is… a bit of a relief.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. It is a somewhat painful realisation, but you can’t help but agree. All the times you felt like your mother was being distant make sense when you think about it in this way. Her child had been taken, and a part of her must have always felt that something was different about you. You can’t begrudge her feelings.
“To be honest, we always suspected that something was going on,” your father continues. “Your reaction to metal was obvious. The thought that maybe you really were a changeling crossed our minds a few times when you were young. It was troubling for us - difficult times. We sometimes felt like we were grieving without knowing why, but nothing ever came of it, so we accepted that you were our child. There was nothing more to it. Hearing this from you now is… a confirmation of my worries, but doesn’t change anything in retrospect.”
He hesitates for a moment - his hands have started shaking and he is getting choked up.
“The years we spent together were real, and nothing could ever happen that would change the fact that we are a family, and you are our child,” he says with utmost conviction. “I promise you that.”
Your mother nods, attempting a weak smile. “What you are doesn’t matter, and who you are is clear: $playername Grahm.”
It feels like something is rattling around in your chest as emotions threaten to flood you. All of this - it is unfair, and complicated, and difficult, but it is also relieving, and freeing, and hopeful. This won’t make your family break. They have already accepted you, and they will continue to love you.
You might have to talk about this more. You might have to endure the pain of knowing the truth for years to come. You might yet have to confront the reality of what happened to the original child.
[[But this won’t make your family break.|Chapter6.10B]]It would be best to make sure your parents can actually follow what you are trying to say. If you just blurt out that you are a changeling, they might be too shocked to listen to what else you have to say.
“You are right, there is a reason why I’m here. It’s a long story, so allow me to explain,” you say.
Your parents' faces fill with something like trepidation but you don’t let it discourage you. Your father nods and gives you the go-ahead to keep speaking.
“You surely remember the celebration for the prince’s birthday around two weeks ago,” you slowly begin, wringing your hands underneath the table.
Piece by piece, you give a chronological report of what happened. How Maeve appeared before you, what she had to say, and how you felt in the moment. While your father listens with rapt attention, it seems like something is dawning on your mother. As you keep talking, she starts nervously tugging at her braid, before her hand eventually settles over her mouth in shock.
You quickly get to the part where you confirmed the truth in front of your mirror. “I saw it with my own two eyes. My appearance had changed to that of a changeling, confirming it. That means… that we are not related by blood.”
Your parents are very still while they listen to you, almost frozen. There is shock on their faces for but a moment, quickly ebbing away to reveal something more muddled behind it. Something equal measures sorrow and relief.
“So that’s it,” your father says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “While a part of me finds all of this hard to believe, I feel instinctively that everything you’ve told us is the truth.”
“It is,” you confirm, waiting with bated breath for their reactions. Your heart is beating so fast that it makes your head throb, and you feel the strong urge to get up and begin pacing around the room.
Your mothers sighs faintly. “I have to admit, I could have gone my entire life without learning of this.”
You nod. You feel much the same way.
“That being said, it feels like a heavy burden being lifted off my shoulders,” she continues. “All these years, I knew that there was <i>something</i>, but I never knew what. I thought there was something wrong with me. I knew I always loved you, but it was never like other mothers described the feeling. It wasn’t as distinct as I expected it to be. I always cared for you, but in a way I would care for all the people in my life. But knowing this…”
A pained expression crosses her face. “You will always be my child, $playername, but knowing that we are not blood is… a bit of a relief.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. It is a somewhat painful realisation, but you can’t help but agree. All the times you felt like your mother was being distant make sense when you think about it in this way. Her child had been taken, and a part of her must have always felt that something was different about you. You can’t begrudge her feelings.
“To be honest, we always suspected that something was going on,” your father continues. “Your reaction to metal was obvious. The thought that maybe you really were a changeling crossed our minds a few times when you were young. It was troubling for us - difficult times. We sometimes felt like we were grieving without knowing why, but nothing ever came of it, so we accepted that you were our child. There was nothing more to it. Hearing this from you now is… a confirmation of my worries, but doesn’t change anything in retrospect.”
He hesitates for a moment - his hands have started shaking and he is getting choked up.
“The years we spent together were real, and nothing could ever happen that would change the fact that we are a family, and you are our child,” he says with utmost conviction. “I promise you that.”
Your mother nods, attempting a weak smile. “What you are doesn’t matter, and who you are is clear: $playername Grahm.”
It feels like something is rattling around in your chest as emotions threaten to flood you. All of this - it is unfair, and complicated, and difficult, but it is also relieving, and freeing, and hopeful. This won’t make your family break. They have already accepted you, and they will continue to love you.
You might have to talk about this more. You might have to endure the pain of knowing the truth for years to come. You might yet have to confront the reality of what happened to the original child.
[[But this won’t make your family break.|Chapter6.10B]]
It would be best to get a feeling for how much your parents know before saying anything yourself. That way, it would be much easier for you to do any sort of damage control. You don’t really believe that they have always known that you are a changeling and just didn’t tell you, but you can imagine that they had their suspicions at the very least.
“It’s true, I came here for a reason. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you start, trying to sound casual.
Your father stares at you with interest while your mother’s brow creases with worry.
“While I was growing up, have I always had an intolerance to metal?” you ask. It is a topic you haven’t talked about in years, even though it was always something you were aware of. In hindsight, it is such a glaring oddity that both you and your parents were glad to ignore.
Your mother’s frown deepens. “Yes, unfortunately. It was worse when you were a child, certainly. Have you… been having trouble with it?”
“No. In fact, you are correct, it isn’t as bad as it used to be. I was just wondering about it. I’ve never met anyone else who struggled with it,” you say, shrugging slightly.
“We never figured out the cause of it,” your father says, voice carefully neutral.
“Right. It is just, there are all kinds of people living in Gaitanis. I have met a half-fae, recently. So that got me thinking about the particular traits of fae, and I couldn't help but think of my metal intolerance. If you say you never figured out the cause, then I assume we don’t have any hidden fae ancestry in our bloodline, correct?”
This is it, the perfect set-up. You are practically inviting your parents to open up and tell you the truth if they do know it.
Your parents exchange glances. Their faces fill with something like trepidation but you don’t let it discourage you.
“There is no fae-ancestry within either of our families,” your father confirms instantly, running a hand through his beard. “There might be other ways to explain it, but we’ve never figured anything out in that regard.”
“So you don’t have any suspicions?” you ask.
Your mother sighs. “If we did have any at some point, we have rid ourselves of them years ago. They do not bear thinking about.”
You hum quietly to yourself, getting lost in your thoughts. By the sounds of it, a part of them might know, deep down, that you are not their biological child, but it seems like a truth they don’t particularly care about unveiling. It is a sentiment you understand - you could have gone your entire life without finding out about it and been all the happier for it. Now that you have brought the topic up, however, it is impossible to suppress it once more.
“Unless you have found something out, $playername?” your mother continues.
“If you have, you can tell us about it,” your father adds, giving you an encouraging smile.
You suppose the time to voice it has come.
You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Recently, I have learned something. About myself. And my heritage.”
Your mothers covers her mouth with one hand. “I suppose you do not speak of us when you say heritage,” she whispers into her hand.
“What have you come to learn, $playername? You can tell us. We’ll understand,” your father says.
“You surely remember the celebration for the prince’s birthday around two weeks ago,” you slowly begin, wringing your hands underneath the table.
You tell them about Maeve appearing to talk to you, what she said, and how it made you feel at the time. You quickly get to the part where you confirmed the truth in front of your mirror. “I saw it with my own two eyes. My appearance had changed to that of a changeling, confirming it. That means… that we are not related by blood.”
Your parents are very still while they listen to you, almost frozen. For a brief moment, there is shock on their faces, quickly ebbing away to reveal something more muddled behind it. Something equal measures sorrow and relief.
“So that’s it,” your father says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have had a feeling that this is where this was headed, though it still is a difficult truth to wrap my head around.”
“That it is,” you confirm, waiting with bated breath for their reactions. Your heart is beating so fast that it makes your head throb, and you feel the strong urge to get up and begin pacing around the room.
Your mothers sighs faintly. “I have to admit, while this isn’t as shocking as it maybe should be, it is not something I ever wanted to consider in earnest.”
“That being said, it feels like a heavy burden being lifted off my shoulders,” she continues. “All these years, I knew that there was <i>something</i>, but I never knew what. I thought there was something wrong with me. I knew I always loved you, but it was never like other mothers described the feeling. It wasn’t as distinct as I expected it to be. I always cared for you, but in a way I would care for all the people in my life. But knowing this…”
A pained expression crosses her face. “You will always be my child, $playername, but knowing that we are not blood is… a bit of a relief.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. It is a somewhat painful realisation, but you can’t help but agree. All the times you felt like your mother was being distant make sense when you think about it in this way. Her child had been taken, and a part of her must have always felt that something was different about you. You can’t begrudge her feelings.
“To be honest, we always suspected that something was going on,” your father continues. “Your reaction to metal was obvious. The thought that maybe you really were a changeling crossed our minds a few times when you were young. It was troubling for us - difficult times. We sometimes felt like we were grieving without knowing why, but nothing ever came of it, so we accepted that you were our child. There was nothing more to it. Hearing this from you now is… a confirmation of my worries, but doesn’t change anything in retrospect.”
He hesitates for a moment - his hands have started shaking and he is getting choked up.
“The years we spent together were real, and nothing could ever happen that would change the fact that we are a family, and you are our child,” he says with utmost conviction. “I promise you that.”
Your mother nods, attempting a weak smile. “What you are doesn’t matter, and who you are is clear: $playername Grahm.”
It feels like something is rattling around in your chest as emotions threaten to flood you. All of this - it is unfair, and complicated, and difficult, but it is also relieving, and freeing, and hopeful. This won’t make your family break. They have already accepted you, and they will continue to love you.
You might have to talk about this more. You might have to endure the pain of knowing the truth for years to come. You might yet have to confront the reality of what happened to the original child.
[[But this won’t make your family break.|Chapter6.10B]]You all take a moment to process, and to reaffirm to each other that everything is alright.
“We’ll always love you, $playername,” your mother says, and your father reaches across the table to take your hand in his.
It’s all a bit much, but not in a bad way. You quickly rub your eyes, trying to keep your composure.
“From what you told us, it sounds like you have no information about what happened… to our biological child,” your mother asks after a while, fiddling restlessly with her braid. “Is that correct?”
You avert your gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about that.”
“That is to be expected,” your father says with a resigned sort of shrug. “You were an infant then, so you wouldn’t remember anything. So if no one told you about it, there’s nothing much we can do.”
Your mother purses her lips. “But are you certain about that? From what $playername told us, clearly the fae planned this. There must be someone among them that knows about what happened to- to the other $playername.”
It is uncanny to hear about some other person being addressed by your name. You hadn’t really considered it, but of course you wouldn't know what else to call them. Whatever their name is now, for your parents, they'll just think of them as $playername, anyway. You took over their life in everyway, erasing whoever they could have been instead of you. It is a sobering thought.
You wonder if there really are any clues about the original $playername’s fate left.
“When did you notice that I was reacting poorly to metal?” you ask. The swap must have happened during a time before you can remember, but how young were you really?
A deep frown settles over your father’s face. “We noticed it very quickly. The first time we tried feeding you with a spoon - you barely had any teeth. Within the first year, certainly.”
“I’m certain it must have been earlier than that, even,” your mother adds. “Within the first month, I’d wager.”
It isn’t a huge shock to hear, but it does make you visualise the gravity of the situation. Two new-borns, barely a month old, simply swapped right under your parents' noses.
Who would do such a thing?
You grit your teeth, trying to understand. Trying to understand why the fae would go to such lengths simply to smuggle you into the Grahm family, and ultimately into Az’Lean’s service. Is it just to have a fae in a position as to where they could manipulate Az’Lean, like Maeve said? Or is there more to it? You feel like there is much you still do not understand.
Your thoughts wander to the original child. It’s hard to imagine that they would simply show up after all these years, though you suppose you can’t rule it out.
As to how you feel about the original child…
[[Admittedly, you feel nothing towards the original child. They are a complete stranger to you, after all.|Chapter6.11B]]
[[Your feelings towards the original child are mostly negative. Surely they’d hate you for taking their place, so you can’t help but get defensive. Why should blood matter more than time spent together?|Chapter6.11B]]
[[You hope that they are alive and well, wherever they are. You have no problem viewing them as a potential sibling. They deserve to be here just as much as you.|Chapter6.11B]]
[[You can’t help but feel guilty. It’s your fault that this happened to them. Either they are dead, or you have ruined their life. It’s eating away at you.|Chapter6.11B]]
You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself, for now. There is no telling how your parents would react. It seems like they, especially your mother, still long to find their lost original child once again. But maybe this is something you should ask them about directly? Who knows - if the original $playername still lives, you might end up crossing paths with them.
“About…<i>them</i>”, you can’t quite manage to refer to them with your own name out loud, “what would you do if they really did survive and were still out there?”
While your father looks somewhat conflicted, your mother answers without hesitation. “They are still our child, ultimately. They could never replace you or the time we spent with you, $playername, but if they wished to return home, I would welcome them. I would accept them as my own.” She smiles. “It would just be like having twins, right? It shouldn’t be a problem.”
You’re not certain how you feel about that. Neither seems your father to be.
“I’m not so sure, Dolores,” he says. “Who knows where and how they have lived all these years. Wouldn’t they be just a stranger to us? There’s no guarantee that we could trust them. They might harbour resentment against us or $playername.”
Your mother’s face falls. “I can’t deny the possibility. But they would be my child nonetheless. Even if they wanted me dead, I would not turn my back on them.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you that,” you say. “I didn’t mean to stir things up more than they already are.”
Your mother shakes her head. “No. It is never wrong to communicate, even if it may be painful. It is not a pointless discussion - we should know where each other stand on important matters such as these.”
Despite your mother’s insistence, it is clear that neither you nor your father have much else to say on the matter. In truth, it is highly unlikely that the original child survived in the first place. This discussion should be saved for another day - if it is necessary at all.
The three of you fall silent, for a bit. Emotions have run high for a while, and in the aftermath follows the eventual exhaustion. You can feel your heart slowing down, finally, and the jitteriness of your hands subside. Instead, a certain haziness envelops you, and you would have loved nothing more than to stay the night - here, in the comfort of your childhood home.
A look out of the window reveals that the sun has begun setting, and a long ride back to the castle still awaits you.
There is one final matter to discuss, however, and your father is the one bringing it up.
“One thing that I need to know about, $playername... If you ever need a place to seek refuge in, you know you can come here, but…” His brow furrows and he trails off.
You understand. He doesn’t want you to have to give up on your dream of being the Champion. He’s offering for you to stay.
Maybe, at some point, it is an offer you’d consider. Not now, however. It would not protect your secret for long; people would ask questions if you just disappeared from the castle. If your secret were widely known and you were deemed a criminal, you wouldn’t ever burden your family by hiding out here.
“I have to return to the castle,” you say before he can really ask what he wants to ask. “Today, in fact.”
“You’re not staying?” your mother asks.
“No. It was never my intention to stay the night. I just… had to speak to you while I could.”
The temperature seems to drop a few degrees, and it’s not just from the diminishing sunlight. You can read it in their expressions - the reality of your situation setting in, the realisation of what might happen to you.
You know they’ll constantly worry about you, even more than when you became a knight.
[[You promise them to write as often as you can. You would keep your letters vague of course, but it might still cause suspicion if someone really looked into it.|Chapter6.12B1]]
[[You promise them you’ll be careful. That’s the most you can offer with certainty.|Chapter6.12B2]]
It might seem a little tactless to just blurt this sort of thing out over dinner, but if it’s going to cause you more stress it’s better to get it over with as quickly as possible. You explain as much to Vynn.
“Jumping head first into it - I like it. Sometimes it’s better to just get it over with and sort everything out after,” Vynn says. “I’ll be right there with you, $playername. Obviously I should leave all the talking to you, but just signal me if you need help.”
“Thank you, Vynn. You don’t know how relieving it is to hear you say that.”
They smile brightly. “Then are you ready to head in?”
You steel yourself before nodding. No point in wasting any more daylight out here.
You reach out and open the front door before stepping inside. Everything in the entrance hall is as orderly and inviting as always, with freshly cut flowers arranged artfully in vases on both sides of the doorway.
“Mother? Father? I have come to visit! Vynn is also here!” you call out, expecting your parents to be home. It would be more than just a little awkward if they had chosen exactly tonight to go out.
“$playername?” you can hear your father’s booming voice echo through the building. “What a surprise! Quick, come join us for dinner.”
You breathe a shaky sigh of relief as you close the front door behind you, heading deeper inside, Vynn following closely behind you. They have only been here a handful of times, but move about as if they feel right at home. It is comforting, in an odd way.
The dining room is well lit - partially from the setting sun and partially from a candelabra set up in the middle of the table. Your parents are already seated, though no food has been served yet. They both look well, from what you can tell. Your father is still dressed in his leathers and furs, even though it’s well past spring and into summer at this point, but his eyes are bright and he’s grinning at the sight of you. Your mother is wearing a navy blue linen dress, and her hair is braided loosely over her shoulder. She too smiles when she sees you, beckoning you over.
“You’ve arrived at just the right time,” she says. “We’re about to have a most exquisite roast, and I’m sure there’s enough for you two as well.”
“There’s no way I could refuse such a generous offer, Lady Grahm,” Vynn says with a courteous incline of their head.
“It’s been a long ride, so we’ll gladly take you up on that,” you say, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from your mother and to the left of your father. Vynn takes the one to your left, nudging their chair just a little bit closer to you. Now that you’re here, the temptation to enjoy a good dinner and then simply leave again is strong, but you know Vynn wouldn’t let you back down from this.
If you don’t do it now, you know you may never get the chance to. It has to be now.
As dinner is served, your parents are catching you up on what’s been going on in Grahm territory while Vynn shares some gossip from the castle. Soon enough, it’s your turn to talk.
“And how have you been?” your father asks between sips of ale. “Is there a reason for this surprise visit? Usually, you send a letter ahead of time. Were the two of you just in the area?”
[[This is it. You hope that the straightforward approach will work out.|Chapter6.9A1]]
It would be best to make sure your parents can actually follow what you are trying to say. If you just blurt out that you are a changeling, they might be too shocked to listen to what else you have to say. You explain as much to Vynn.
“I suppose going through it piece by piece will at the very least make it easy to follow,” Vynn says. “I’ll be right there with you, $playername. Obviously I should leave all the talking to you, but just signal me if you need help.”
“Thank you, Vynn. You don’t know how relieving it is to hear you say that.”
They smile brightly. “Then are you ready to head in?”
You steel yourself before nodding. No point in wasting any more daylight out here.
You reach out and open the front door before stepping inside. Everything in the entrance hall is as orderly and inviting as always with freshly cut flowers arranged artfully in vases on both sides of the doorway.
“Mother? Father? I have come to visit! Vynn is also here!” you call out, expecting your parents to be home. It would be more than just a little awkward if they had chosen exactly tonight to go out.
“$playername?” you can hear your father’s booming voice echo through the building. “What a surprise! Quick, come join us for dinner.”
You breathe a shaky sigh of relief as you close the front door behind you, heading deeper inside, Vynn following closely behind you. They have only been here a handful of times, but move about as if they feel right at home. It is comforting, in an odd way.
The dining room is well lit - partially from the setting sun and partially from a candelabra set up in the middle of the table. Your parents are already seated, though no food has been served yet. They both look well, from what you can tell. Your father is still dressed in his leathers and furs, even though it’s well past spring and into summer at this point, but his eyes are bright and he’s grinning at the sight of you. Your mother is wearing a navy blue linen dress, and her hair is braided loosely over her shoulder. She too smiles when she sees you, beckoning you over.
“You’ve arrived at just the right time,” she says. “We’re about to have a most exquisite roast, and I’m sure there’s enough for you two as well.”
“There’s no way I could refuse such a generous offer, Lady Grahm,” Vynn says with a courteous inline of their head.
“It’s been a long ride, so we’ll gladly take you up on that,” you say, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from your mother and to the left of your father. Vynn takes the one to your left, nudging their chair just a little bit closer to you. Now that you’re here, the temptation to enjoy a good dinner and then simply leave again is strong, but you know Vynn wouldn’t let you back down from this.
If you don’t do it now, you know you may never get the chance to. It has to be now.
As dinner is served, your parents are catching you up on what’s been going on in Grahm territory while Vynn shares some gossip from the castle. Soon enough, it’s your turn to talk.
“And how have you been?” your father asks between sips of ale. “Is there a reason for this surprise visit? Usually, you send a letter ahead of time. Were the two of you just in the area?”
[[This is it. You hope that the chronological approach will work out.|Chapter6.9A2]]It would be best to get a feeling for how much your parents know before saying anything yourself. That way, it would be much easier for you to do any sort of damage control. You don’t really believe that they have always known that you are a changeling and just didn’t tell you, but you can imagine that they had their suspicions at the very least. You explain as much to Vynn.
“Slowly feeling your way through it does seem like the best idea, especially when you don’t know what to expect. At the very least you’ll be able to consider your words more carefully,” Vynn says. “I’ll be right there with you, $playername. Obviously I should leave all the talking to you, but just signal me if you need help.”
“Thank you, Vynn. You don’t know how relieving it is to hear you say that.”
They smile brightly. “Then are you ready to head in?”
You steel yourself before nodding. No point in wasting any more daylight out here.
You reach out and open the front door before stepping inside. Everything in the entrance hall is as orderly and inviting as always with freshly cut flowers arranged artfully in vases on both sides of the doorway.
“Mother? Father? I have come to visit! Vynn is also here!” you call out, expecting your parents to be home. It would be more than just a little awkward if they had chosen exactly tonight to go out.
“$playername?” you can hear your father’s booming voice echo through the building. “What a surprise! Quick, come join us for dinner.”
You breathe a shaky sigh of relief as you close the front door behind you, heading deeper inside, Vynn following closely behind you. They have only been here a handful of times, but move about as if they feel right at home. It is comforting, in an odd way.
The dining room is well lit - partially from the setting sun and partially from a candelabra set up in the middle of the table. Your parents are already seated, though no food has been served yet. They both look well, from what you can tell. Your father is still dressed in his leathers and furs, even though it’s well past spring and into summer at this point, but his eyes are bright and he’s grinning at the sight of you. Your mother is wearing a navy blue linen dress, and her hair is braided loosely over her shoulder. She too smiles when she sees you, beckoning you over.
“You’ve arrived at just the right time,” she says. “We’re about to have a most exquisite roast, and I’m sure there’s enough for you two as well.”
“There’s no way I could refuse such a generous offer, Lady Grahm,” Vynn says with a courteous inline of their head.
“It’s been a long ride, so we’ll gladly take you up on that,” you say, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from your mother and to the left of your father. Vynn takes the one to your left, nudging their chair just a little bit closer to you. Now that you’re here, the temptation to enjoy a good dinner and then simply leave again is strong, but you know Vynn wouldn’t let you back down from this.
If you don’t do it now, you know you may never get the chance to. It has to be now.
As dinner is served, your parents are catching you up on what’s been going on in Grahm territory while Vynn shares some gossip from the castle. Soon enough, it’s your turn to talk.
“And how have you been?” your father asks between sips of ale. “Is there a reason for this surprise visit? Usually, you send a letter ahead of time. Were the two of you just in the area?”
[[This is it. You hope that the subtle approach will work out.|Chapter6.9A3]]
As you prepare yourself to answer, you can feel Vynn’s hand grabbing your arm underneath the table - grounding you, steadying you. You draw strength from their presence and decide to just get it over with.
“I came here to talk to you because I have had a troubling revelation. We- we aren’t related by blood, and… and I am a changeling. Vynn already knows. Do you- do you know anything about that?”
Even as you say it, you know this might not have been the best way to go about it. Your mother lets her knife and fork drop in shock before pressing her hands to her mouth. Your father jumps up out of his seat, as if ready to run. They stare at you, before slowly looking at each other - exchanging meaningful gazes. Vynn silently squeezes your arm.
“That is-” your mother starts but her voice breaks. She clears her throat, clearly trying to keep her countenance. “That is…not something I expected to hear today. I might need something stronger than wine for this.”
Her $eyes eyes glance at Vynn before boring into you. “First of all, $playername… Are you certain? Did you…confirm this, in any way?”
Your father lets himself fall back into his chair, repeatedly running a hand through his beard. “A changeling…”
By their shock, it seems that they didn’t know… Which unfortunately means the onus of explaining the situation rests on your shoulders. You’re glad Vynn is here in case this all goes terribly wrong.
“Perhaps I should just tell you everything I know.” You begin to recount everything that happened after the celebration of Az’Lean’s birthday - how you met Maeve and what she told you, how you saw the truth for yourself, and all that transpired after. Vynn mostly stays silent, but they do make sure to confirm that you told them the same thing.
Your parents are very still while they listen to you, almost frozen. Once you are caught up to the present, the shock on their faces has ebbed away, leaving something more muddled behind. Something equal measures sorrow and relief.
“So that’s it,” your father says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “While a part of me finds all of this hard to believe, I feel instinctively that everything you’ve told us is the truth.”
“It is,” you confirm, waiting with bated breath for their reactions. Your heart is beating so fast that it makes your head throb, and you feel the strong urge to get up and begin pacing around the room. You glance at Vynn and find them smiling softly at you. That’s right, everything will be fine. If Vynn doesn’t care about what you are, neither will your parents.
Your mothers sighs faintly. “I have to admit, I could have gone my entire life without learning of this.”
You nod. You feel much the same way.
“That being said, it feels like a heavy burden is being lifted off my shoulders,” she continues. “All these years, I knew that there was <i>something</i>, but I never knew what. I thought there was something wrong with me. I knew I always loved you, but it was never like other mothers described the feeling. It wasn’t as distinct as I expected it to be. I always cared for you, but in a way I would care for all the people in my life. But knowing this…”
A pained expression crosses her face. “You will always be my child, $playername, but knowing that we are not blood is… a bit of a relief.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. It is a somewhat painful realisation, but you can’t help but agree. All the times you felt like your mother was being distant make sense when you think about it in this way. Her child had been taken, and a part of her must have always felt that something was different about you. You can’t begrudge her feelings.
“To be honest, we always suspected that something was going on,” your father continues. “Your reaction to metal was obvious. The thought that maybe you really were a changeling crossed our minds a few times when you were young. It was troubling for us - difficult times. We sometimes felt like we were grieving without knowing why, but nothing ever came of it, so we accepted that you were our child. There was nothing more to it. Hearing this from you now is… a confirmation of my worries, but doesn’t change anything in retrospect.”
He hesitates for a moment - his hands have started shaking and he is getting choked up.
“The years we spent together were real, and nothing could ever happen that would change the fact that we are a family, and you are our child,” he says with utmost conviction. “I promise you that.”
Your mother nods, attempting a weak smile. “What you are doesn’t matter, and who you are is clear: $playername Grahm.”
“They are right,” Vynn says softly. “I can tell that they mean every word of it.”
It feels like something is rattling around in your chest as emotions threaten to flood you. All of this - it is unfair, and complicated, and difficult, but it is also relieving, and freeing, and hopeful. This won’t make your family break. They have already accepted you, and they will continue to love you.
You might have to talk about this more. You might have to endure the pain of knowing the truth for years to come. You might yet have to confront the reality of what happened to the original child.
[[But this won’t make your family break.|Chapter6.10A]]
As you prepare yourself to answer, you can feel Vynn’s hand grabbing your arm underneath the table - grounding you, steadying you. You draw strength from their presence and manage to stay calm.
“You are right, there is a reason why I’m here. It’s a long story, so allow me to explain,” you say.
Your parents' faces fill with something like trepidation but you don’t let it discourage you. Your father nods and gives you the go-ahead to keep speaking.
“You surely remember the celebration for the prince’s birthday around two weeks ago,” you slowly begin, wringing your hands underneath the table. Vynn silently squeezes your arm.
Piece by piece, you give a chronological report of what happened. How Maeve appeared before you, what she had to say, and how you felt in the moment. While your father listens with rapt attention, it seems like something is dawning on your mother. As you keep talking, she starts nervously tugging at her braid, before her hand eventually settles over her mouth in shock. Vynn stays silent throughout most of it, but they do speak up to confirm that you told them the same thing.
You quickly get to the part where you confirmed the truth in front of your mirror. “I saw it with my own two eyes. My appearance had changed to that of a changeling, confirming it. That means…that we are not related by blood.”
Your parents are very still while they listen to you, almost frozen. There is shock on their faces for but a moment, quickly ebbing away to reveal something more muddled behind it. Something equal measures sorrow and relief.
“So that’s it,” your father says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “While a part of me finds all of this hard to believe, I feel instinctively that everything you’ve told us is the truth.”
“It is,” you confirm, waiting with bated breath for their reactions. Your heart is beating so fast that it makes your head throb, and you feel the strong urge to get up and begin pacing around the room. You glance at Vynn and find them smiling softly at you. That’s right, everything will be fine. If Vynn doesn’t care about what you are, neither will your parents.
Your mothers sighs faintly. “I have to admit, I could have gone my entire life without learning of this.”
You nod. You feel much the same way.
“That being said, it feels like a heavy burden being lifted off my shoulders,” she continues. “All these years, I knew that there was <i>something</i>, but I never knew what. I thought there was something wrong with me. I knew I always loved you, but it was never like other mothers described the feeling. It wasn’t as distinct as I expected it to be. I always cared for you, but in a way I would care for all the people in my life. But knowing this…”
A pained expression crosses her face. “You will always be my child, $playername, but knowing that we are not blood is… a bit of a relief.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. It is a somewhat painful realisation, but you can’t help but agree. All the times you felt like your mother was being distant make sense when you think about it in this way. Her child had been taken, and a part of her must have always felt that something was different about you. You can’t begrudge her feelings.
“To be honest, we always suspected that something was going on,” your father continues. “Your reaction to metal was obvious. The thought that maybe you really were a changeling crossed our minds a few times when you were young. It was troubling for us - difficult times. We sometimes felt like we were grieving without knowing why, but nothing ever came of it, so we accepted that you were our child. There was nothing more to it. Hearing this from you now is… a confirmation of my worries, but doesn’t change anything in retrospect.”
He hesitates for a moment - his hands have started shaking and he is getting choked up.
“The years we spent together were real, and nothing could ever happen that would change the fact that we are a family, and you are our child,” he says with utmost conviction. “I promise you that.”
Your mother nods, attempting a weak smile. “What you are doesn’t matter, and who you are is clear: $playername Grahm.”
“They are right,” Vynn says softly. “I can tell that they mean every word of it.”
It feels like something is rattling around in your chest as emotions threaten to flood you. All of this - it is unfair, and complicated, and difficult, but it is also relieving, and freeing, and hopeful. This won’t make your family break. They have already accepted you, and they will continue to love you.
You might have to talk about this more. You might have to endure the pain of knowing the truth for years to come. You might yet have to confront the reality of what happened to the original child.
[[But this won’t make your family break.|Chapter6.10A]]
As you prepare yourself to answer, you can feel Vynn’s hand grabbing your arm underneath the table - grounding you, steadying you. You draw strength from their presence and manage to stay calm.
“It’s true, I came here for a reason. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you start, trying to sound casual.
Your father stares at you with interest while your mother’s brow creases with worry.
“While I was growing up, have I always had an intolerance to metal?” you ask. It is a topic you haven’t talked about in years, even though it was always something you were aware of. In hindsight, it is such a glaring oddity that both you and your parents were glad to ignore.
Your mother’s frown deepens. “Yes, unfortunately. It was worse when you were a child, certainly. Have you… been having trouble with it?”
“No. In fact, you are correct, it isn’t as bad as it used to be. I was just wondering about it. I’ve never met anyone else who struggled with it,” you say, shrugging slightly.
“We never figured out the cause of it,” your father says, voice carefully neutral, glancing at Vynn.
“Right. Vynn already knows about all this,” you are quick to clarify. “It is just, there are all kinds of people living in Gaitanis. I have met a half-fae, recently. So that got me thinking about the particular traits of fae, and I couldn't help but think of my metal intolerance. If you say you never figured out the cause, then I assume we don’t have any hidden fae ancestry in our bloodline, correct?”
This is it, the perfect set-up. You are practically inviting your parents to open up and tell you the truth if they do know it.
Your parents exchange glances. Their faces fill with something like trepidation but you don’t let it discourage you.
“There is no fae-ancestry within either of our families,” your father confirms instantly, running a hand through his beard. “There might be other ways to explain it, but we’ve never figured anything out in that regard.”
“So you don’t have any suspicions?” you ask.
Your mother sighs. “If we did have any at some point, we have rid ourselves of them years ago. They do not bear thinking about.”
You hum quietly to yourself, getting lost in your thoughts. By the sounds of it, a part of them might know, deep down, that you are not their biological child, but it seems like a truth they don’t particularly care about unveiling. It is a sentiment you understand - you could have gone your entire life without finding out about it and been all the happier for it. Now that you have brought the topic up, however, it is impossible to suppress it once more.
“Unless you have found something out, $playername?” your mother continues.
“If you have, you can tell us about it,” your father adds, giving you an encouraging smile. “It sounds like you might have told Vynn about it already.”
You suppose the time to voice it has come. Vynn silently squeezes your arm, and you allow yourself to draw strength from it.
You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Recently, I have learned something. About myself. And my heritage.”
Your mothers covers her mouth with one hand. “I suppose you do not speak of us when you say heritage,” she whispers into her hand.
“What have you come to learn, $playername? You can tell us. We’ll understand,” your father says.
“You surely remember the celebration for the prince’s birthday around two weeks ago,” you slowly begin, wringing your hands underneath the table.
You tell them about Maeve appearing to talk to you, what she said, and how it made you feel at the time. You quickly get to the part where you confirmed the truth in front of your mirror. “I saw it with my own two eyes. My appearance had changed to that of a changeling, confirming it. That means… that we are not related by blood.”
Your parents are very still while they listen to you, almost frozen. For a brief moment, there is shock on their faces, quickly ebbing away to reveal something more muddled behind it. Something equal measures sorrow and relief.
While Vynn has stayed quiet throughout all of this, they do speak up to confirm that you have told them the same thing.
“So that’s it,” your father says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have had a feeling that this is where this was headed, though it still is a difficult truth to wrap my head around.”
“That it is,” you confirm, waiting with bated breath for their reactions. Your heart is beating so fast that it makes your head throb, and you feel the strong urge to get up and begin pacing around the room. You glance at Vynn and find them smiling softly at you. That’s right, everything will be fine. If Vynn doesn’t care about what you are, neither will your parents.
Your mothers sighs faintly. “I have to admit, while this isn’t as shocking as it maybe should be, it is not something I ever wanted to consider in earnest.”
“That being said, it feels like a heavy burden being lifted off my shoulders,” she continues. “All these years, I knew that there was <i>something</i>, but I never knew what. I thought there was something wrong with me. I knew I always loved you, but it was never like other mothers described the feeling. It wasn’t as distinct as I expected it to be. I always cared for you, but in a way I would care for all the people in my life. But knowing this…”
A pained expression crosses her face. “You will always be my child, $playername, but knowing that we are not blood is… a bit of a relief.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. It is a somewhat painful realisation, but you can’t help but agree. All the times you felt like your mother was being distant make sense when you think about it in this way. Her child had been taken, and a part of her must have always felt that something was different about you. You can’t begrudge her feelings.
“To be honest, we always suspected that something was going on,” your father continues. “Your reaction to metal was obvious. The thought that maybe you really were a changeling crossed our minds a few times when you were young. It was troubling for us - difficult times. We sometimes felt like we were grieving without knowing why, but nothing ever came of it, so we accepted that you were our child. There was nothing more to it. Hearing this from you now is… a confirmation of my worries, but doesn’t change anything in retrospect.”
He hesitates for a moment - his hands have started shaking and he is getting choked up.
“The years we spent together were real, and nothing could ever happen that would change the fact that we are a family, and you are our child,” he says with utmost conviction. “I promise you that.”
Your mother nods, attempting a weak smile. “What you are doesn’t matter, and who you are is clear: $playername Grahm.”
“They are right,” Vynn says softly. “I can tell that they mean every word of it.”
It feels like something is rattling around in your chest as emotions threaten to flood you. All of this - it is unfair, and complicated, and difficult, but it is also relieving, and freeing, and hopeful. This won’t make your family break. They have already accepted you, and they will continue to love you.
You might have to talk about this more. You might have to endure the pain of knowing the truth for years to come. You might yet have to confront the reality of what happened to the original child.
[[But this won’t make your family break.|Chapter6.10A]]
You all take a moment to process, and to reaffirm to each other that everything is alright.
“We’ll always love you, $playername,” your mother says, and your father reaches across the table to take your hand in his. Vynn keeps their hold on your arm.
It’s all a bit much, but not in a bad way. You quickly rub your eyes, trying to keep your composure.
“From what you told us, it sounds like you have no information about what happened… to our biological child,” your mother asks after a while, fiddling restlessly with her braid. “Is that correct?”
You avert your gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about that.”
“That is to be expected,” your father says with a resigned sort of shrug. “You were an infant then, so you wouldn’t remember anything. So if no one told you about it, there’s nothing much we can do.”
Your mother purses her lips. “But are you certain about that? From what $playername told us, clearly the fae planned this. There must be someone among them that knows about what happened to- to the other $playername.”
You can feel Vynn tense up next to you, and their reaction is understandable. It is uncanny to hear about some other person being addressed by your name. You hadn’t really considered it, but of course you wouldn't know what else to call them. Whatever their name is now, for your parents, they'll just think of them as $playername, anyway. You took over their life in everyway, erasing whoever they could have been instead of you. It is a sobering thought.
You wonder if there really are any clues about the original $playername’s fate left.
“When did you notice that I was reacting poorly to metal?” you ask. The swap must have happened during a time before you can remember, but how young were you really?
A deep frown settles over your father’s face. “We noticed it very quickly. The first time we tried feeding you with a spoon - you barely had any teeth. Within the first year, certainly.”
“I’m certain it must have been earlier than that, even,” your mother adds. “Within the first month, I’d wager.”
“That… is early indeed,” Vynn says, unable to hide the horror in their voice.
It isn’t a huge shock to hear, but it does make you visualise the gravity of the situation. Two new-borns, barely a month old, simply swapped right under your parents' noses.
Who would do such a thing?
You grit your teeth, trying to understand. Trying to understand why the fae would go to such lengths simply to smuggle you into the Grahm family, and ultimately into Az’Lean’s service. Is it just to have a fae in a position as to where they could manipulate Az’Lean, like Maeve said? Or is there more to it? You feel like there is much you still do not understand.
Your thoughts wander to the original child. It’s hard to imagine that they would simply show up after all these years, though you suppose you can’t rule it out.
As to how you feel about the original child…
[[Admittedly, you feel nothing towards the original child. They are a complete stranger to you, after all.|Chapter6.11A]]
[[Your feelings towards the original child are mostly negative. Surely they’d hate you for taking their place, so you can’t help but get defensive. Why should blood matter more than time spent together?|Chapter6.11A]]
[[You hope that they are alive and well, wherever they are. You have no problem viewing them as a potential sibling. They deserve to be here just as much as you.|Chapter6.11A]]
[[You can’t help but feel guilty. It’s your fault that this happened to them. Either they are dead, or you have ruined their life. It’s eating away at you.|Chapter6.11A]]
You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself, for now. There is no telling how Vynn and your parents would react. It seems like they, especially your mother, still long to find their lost original child once again. But maybe this is something you should ask them about directly? Who knows - if the original $playername still lives, you might end up crossing paths with them.
“About…<i>them</i>”, you can’t quite manage to refer to them with your own name out loud, “what would you do if they really did survive and were still out there?”
While your father looks somewhat conflicted, your mother answers without hesitation. “They are still our child, ultimately. They could never replace you or the time we spent with you, $playername, but if they wished to return home, I would welcome them. I would accept them as my own.” She smiles. “It would just be like having twins, right? It shouldn’t be a problem.”
You’re not certain how you feel about that. Neither seems your father to be.
“I’m not so sure, Dolores,” he says. “Who knows where and how they have lived all these years. Wouldn’t they be just a stranger to us? There’s no guarantee that we could trust them. They might harbour resentment against us or $playername.”
Your mother’s face falls. “I can’t deny the possibility. But they would be my child nonetheless. Even if they wanted me dead, I would not turn my back on them.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you that,” you say. “I didn’t mean to stir things up more than they already are.”
“There’s no point in being selective about what you say at this point,” Vynn is quick to point out. “It affects all three of you, so it would come up eventually.”
Your mother nods. “I agree. It is never wrong to communicate, even if it may be painful. It is not a pointless discussion - we should know where each other stand on important matters such as these.”
Despite your mother’s insistence, it is clear that neither you nor your father have much else to say on the matter. In truth, it is highly unlikely that the original child survived in the first place. This discussion should be saved for another day - if it is necessary at all.
The four of you fall silent, for a bit. Emotions have run high for a while, and in the aftermath follows the eventual exhaustion. You can feel your heart slowing down, finally, and the jitteriness of your hands subside. Instead, a certain haziness envelops you, and you would have loved nothing more than to stay the night - here, in the comfort of your childhood home.
A look out of the window reveals that the sun has begun setting, and a long ride back to the castle still awaits you and Vynn.
There is one final matter to discuss, however, and your father is the one bringing it up.
“One thing that I need to know about, $playername... If you ever need a place to seek refuge in, you know you can come here, but…” His brow furrows and he trails off.
You understand. He doesn’t want you to have to give up on your dream of being the Champion. He’s offering for you to stay.
Maybe, at some point, it is an offer you’d consider. Not now, however. It would not protect your secret for long; people would ask questions if you just disappeared from the castle. If your secret were widely known and you were deemed a criminal, you wouldn’t ever burden your family by hiding out here.
“We have to return to the castle,” you say before he can really ask what he wants to ask. “Today, in fact.”
Vynn groans loudly. “Don’t remind me.”
“You’re not staying?” your mother asks.
“No. It was never my intention to stay the night. I just… had to speak to you while I could.”
The temperature seems to drop a few degrees, and it’s not just from the diminishing sunlight. You can read it in their expressions - the reality of your situation setting in, the realisation of what might happen to you.
You know they’ll constantly worry about you, even more than when you became a knight.
[[You promise them to write as often as you can. You would keep your letters vague of course, but it might still cause suspicion if someone really looked into it.|Chapter6.12A1]]
[[You promise them you’ll be careful. That’s the most you can offer with certainty.|Chapter6.12A2]]
<<set $letters to "yes">>\
“Don’t worry,” you say, earnestly meeting their eyes. “I promise that I will write to you as often as I can and keep you updated on what’s happening. I’m… uncertain what the future will bring, but hiding out here isn’t an option. You understand, right?”
“Understanding it logically and truly accepting it are two different matters entirely,” your father says. “That being said, it is your choice to make. Just know that sometimes it’s alright to be a coward.”
Your mother turns up her nose a little as if she doesn’t agree. “Well, I wouldn’t call it cowardice in any case. Being sensible and realistic is a <i>good</i> thing. No need to vilify it.”
“I know what you both mean,” you say. “I don’t plan on putting myself into any needless danger. Not on purpose. This… is just part of my life now, and I’ll figure out how to deal with it. So, if you at all can, try not to worry about me too much. I don’t want you to be burdened because of this.”
Your mother smiles sadly. “We will try, although worrying is just part of being a parent.”
“Is there anything else we could do for you?” your father asks. He’s idly combing through his beard again, likely just so his hands have something to do.
You take a moment to think about his offer, but really, they have already done enough for you. Sitting here right now, you feel accepted, loved, almost comfortable in your own skin. What this talk has done for you isn’t easy to put into words, but it’s worth is immeasurable. Still, maybe you should come up with something for your father to help with - just so he feels like he is actively doing something to aid you.
“It is really not much of a request, but…Maybe you could come visit Gaitanis next month, during the Summer Solstice? The festival will be a lot of work, so I’d love it if you’d come to enjoy it as well. I don’t know when I’ll next be able to come visit you, so if you have any time for it at all… I know you can’t leave Grahm territory unattended for too long, but-” you realise that you are rambling and forcibly cut yourself off.
“We’ll make time if we don’t have any!” your father proclaims. “That won’t be a problem at all.”
Your mother nods in agreement. “Who knows how much longer we’ll be able to make such trips with ease? We should do it while we can.”
“Don’t say that! You two aren’t <i>that</i> old yet,” you say with a chuckle.
It seems with the upcoming festival, you have found a good, light-hearted topic to switch to. You talk about it for a bit longer, dragging out the moment when you’ll inevitably have to leave.
[[The setting sun doesn’t care about your reluctance to leave, however, and you know waiting any longer will just cost you what little sleep you’ll still be able to get.|Chapter6.13B]]
“Don’t worry,” you say, earnestly meeting their eyes. “I promise that I will be careful. I’m… uncertain what the future will bring, but hiding out here isn’t an option. You understand, right?”
“Understanding it logically and truly accepting it are two different matters entirely,” your father says. “That being said, it is your choice to make. Just know that sometimes it’s alright to be a coward.”
Your mother turns up her nose a little as if she doesn’t agree. “Well, I wouldn’t call it cowardice in any case. Being sensible and realistic is a <i>good</i> thing. No need to vilify it.”
“I know what you both mean,” you say. “I don’t plan on putting myself into any needless danger. Not on purpose. This… is just part of my life now, and I’ll figure out how to deal with it. So, if you at all can, try not to worry about me too much. I don’t want you to be burdened because of this.”
Your mother smiles sadly. “We will try, although worrying is just part of being a parent.”
“Is there anything else we could do for you?” your father asks. He’s idly combing through his beard again, likely just so his hands have something to do.
You take a moment to think about his offer, but really, they have already done enough for you. Sitting here right now, you feel accepted, loved, almost comfortable in your own skin. What this talk has done for you isn’t easy to put into words, but it’s worth is immeasurable. Still, maybe you should come up with something for your father to help with - just so he feels like he is actively doing something to aid you.
“It is really not much of a request, but… Maybe you could come visit Gaitanis next month, during the Summer Solstice? The festival will be a lot of work, so I’d love it if you’d come to enjoy it as well. I don’t know when I’ll next be able to come visit you, so if you have any time for it at all… I know you can’t leave Grahm territory unattended for too long, but-” you realise that you are rambling and forcibly cut yourself off.
“We’ll make time if we don’t have any!” your father proclaims. “That won’t be a problem at all.”
Your mother nods in agreement. “Who knows how much longer we’ll be able to make such trips with ease? We should do it while we can.”
“Don’t say that! You two aren’t <i>that</i> old yet,” you say with a chuckle.
It seems with the upcoming festival, you have found a good, light-hearted topic to switch to. You talk about it for a bit longer, dragging out the moment when you’ll inevitably have to leave.
[[The setting sun doesn’t care about your reluctance to leave, however, and you know waiting any longer will just cost you what little sleep you’ll still be able to get.|Chapter6.13B]]
<<set $letters to "yes">>\
“Don’t worry,” you say, earnestly meeting their eyes. “I promise that I will write to you as often as I can and keep you updated on what’s happening. I’m… uncertain what the future will bring, but hiding out here isn’t an option. You understand, right?”
“Understanding it logically and truly accepting it are two different matters entirely,” your father says. “That being said, it is your choice to make. Just know that sometimes it’s alright to be a coward.”
Your mother turns up her nose a little as if she doesn’t agree. “Well, I wouldn’t call it cowardice in any case. Being sensible and realistic is a <i>good</i> thing. No need to vilify it.”
“Now those are wise words if I’ve ever heard them,” Vynn says with a grin.
“I know what you all mean,” you say. “I don’t plan on putting myself into any needless danger.”
Vynn snorts and you are quick to add: “Not on purpose. This… is just part of my life now, and I’ll figure out how to deal with it. So, if you at all can, try not to worry about me too much. I don’t want you to be burdened because of this.”
Your mother smiles sadly. “We will try, although worrying is just part of being a parent.”
“Is there anything else we could do for you?” your father asks. He’s idly combing through his beard again, likely just so his hands have something to do.
You take a moment to think about his offer, but really, they have already done enough for you. Sitting here right now, you feel accepted, loved, almost comfortable in your own skin. What this talk has done for you isn’t easy to put into words, but its worth is immeasurable. Still, maybe you should come up with something for your father to help with - just so he feels like he is actively doing something to aid you.
“It is really not much of a request, but… Maybe you could come visit Gaitanis next month, during the Summer Solstice? The festival will be a lot of work, so I’d love it if you’d come to enjoy it as well. I don’t know when I’ll next be able to come visit you, so if you have any time for it at all… I know you can’t leave Grahm territory unattended for too long, but-” you realise that you are rambling and forcibly cut yourself off.
“I’m sure this year’s festival will trump all the ones that came before,” Vynn adds.
“We’ll make time if we don’t have any!” your father proclaims. “That won’t be a problem at all.”
Your mother nods in agreement. “Who knows how much longer we’ll be able to make such trips with ease? We should do it while we can.”
“Don’t say that! You two aren’t <i>that</i> old yet,” you say with a chuckle.
It seems with the upcoming festival, you have found a good, light-hearted topic to switch to. You talk about it for a bit longer, dragging out the moment when you’ll inevitably have to leave. Vynn doesn’t seem all too eager to get back on their horse either.
[[The setting sun doesn’t care about your reluctance to leave, however, and you know waiting any longer will just cost you what little sleep you’ll still be able to get.|Chapter6.13A]]
“Don’t worry,” you say, earnestly meeting their eyes. “I promise that I will be careful. I’m… uncertain what the future will bring, but hiding out here isn’t an option. You understand, right?”
“Understanding it logically and truly accepting it are two different matters entirely,” your father says. “That being said, it is your choice to make. Just know that sometimes it’s alright to be a coward.”
Your mother turns up her nose a little as if she doesn’t agree. “Well, I wouldn’t call it cowardice in any case. Being sensible and realistic is a <i>good</i> thing. No need to vilify it.”
“Now those are wise words if I’ve ever heard them,” Vynn says with a grin.
“I know what you all mean,” you say. “I don’t plan on putting myself into any needless danger.”
Vynn snorts and you are quick to add: “Not on purpose. This… is just part of my life now, and I’ll figure out how to deal with it. So, if you at all can, try not to worry about me too much. I don’t want you to be burdened because of this.”
Your mother smiles sadly. “We will try, although worrying is just part of being a parent.”
“Is there anything else we could do for you?” your father asks. He’s idly combing through his beard again, likely just so his hands have something to do.
You take a moment to think about his offer, but really, they have already done enough for you. Sitting here right now, you feel accepted, loved, almost comfortable in your own skin. What this talk has done for you isn’t easy to put into words, but it’s worth is immeasurable. Still, maybe you should come up with something for your father to help with - just so he feels like he is actively doing something to aid you.
“It is really not much of a request, but… Maybe you could come visit Gaitanis next month, during the Summer Solstice? The festival will be a lot of work, so I’d love it if you’d come to enjoy it as well. I don’t know when I’ll next be able to come visit you, so if you have any time for it at all… I know you can’t leave Grahm territory unattended for too long, but-” you realise that you are rambling and forcibly cut yourself off.
“I’m sure this year’s festival will trump all the ones that came before,” Vynn adds.
“We’ll make time if we don’t have any!” your father proclaims. “That won’t be a problem at all.”
Your mother nods in agreement. “Who knows how much longer we’ll be able to make such trips with ease? We should do it while we can.”
“Don’t say that! You two aren’t <i>that</i> old yet,” you say with a chuckle.
It seems with the upcoming festival, you have found a good, light-hearted topic to switch to. You talk about it for a bit longer, dragging out the moment when you’ll inevitably have to leave. Vynn doesn’t seem all too eager to get back on their horse either.
[[The setting sun doesn’t care about your reluctance to leave, however, and you know waiting any longer will just cost you what little sleep you’ll still be able to get.|Chapter6.13A]]“I suppose… I should get going right about now,” you say.
Your parents look expectedly sad, but they no longer try to convince you to stay. Doing so would only delay your departure. Instead, they make sure that you leave with a smile on your face.
Your father pulls you in for a crushing hug while your mother idly pats your head.
“We love you, $playername,” they both say, more than once, making sure it sticks.
It’s emotional, almost overwhelmingly so, but you bask in it for as long as you can.
“I love you too. I’ll miss you,” you end up saying just before you leave. There’s more, still unsaid, but this right here is what’s important. Everything is out in the open now and your parents love you and accept you - you almost feel like you can face whatever awaits you in the castle upon your return. <i>Almost.</i>
Your parents are still standing in the doorway, waving to you, as you descend the gravel path towards the stable. You make sure to grab a lantern before you mount Faiche as it is almost completely dark at this point.
You’ll have to go and pick up Vynn, and then it’ll be a few more hours of riding home in the darkness. There’s no way you’ll make it back before midnight - you’ll be lucky to get any sleep at all tonight.
As you make your way down to the nearest tavern, The Resting Cat, you already spot Vynn and their horse waiting by the entrance.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” they say as they saddle up and begin riding next to you. “So, how did it go?”
“It went well,” you say, finding yourself smiling at the thought of it. “They didn’t know, at least not with any certainty, but nothing much changed. They still see me as their child. They still… love me.”
A big grin spreads across Vynn’s face. “Of course they do! You <i>are</i> very lovable, $playername.”
Warmth spreads through you and you allow yourself to enjoy it for a while as you catch Vynn up on what else you and your parents had talked about. They listen with rapt attention all the while, dark eyes alight with a certain type of fondness they rarely display.
Despite this having been a matter between your parents and you, it seems that Vynn was very invested in the outcome. You wonder whether it’s because they care for you that much, or because the complicated relationship they have with their own family increases the love they have for yours.
You keep riding back along the Cassja River as you talk, the road before you illuminated only by your lanterns and the stars.
[[Soon enough, Vynn turns the conversation to other matters.|Chapter6.14]]
“It’s getting late,” Vynn says after a while.
“I suppose… We should get going right about now,” you hesitantly agree.
Your parents look expectedly sad, but they no longer try to convince you to stay. Doing so would only delay your departure. Instead, they make sure that you leave with a smile on your face.
Your father pulls you in for a crushing hug while your mother idly pats your head.
“We love you, $playername,” they both say, more than once, making sure it sticks.
It’s emotional, almost overwhelmingly so, but you bask in it for as long as you can.
“I love you too. I’ll miss you,” you end up saying just before you leave. There’s more, still unsaid, but this right here is what’s important. Everything is out in the open now and your parents love you and accept you - you almost feel like you can face whatever awaits you in the castle upon your return. <i>Almost.</i>
“Thank you for looking after $playername as well as you do, Vynn,” your father says as you leave the dining room behind.
Vynn laughs. “I truly don’t deserve any praise for that, Sir Grahm. If anything, it’s the other way around.”
“We look out for each other,” you say simply.
Your father smiles fondly. “Good. Then don’t ever stop doing that, alright? You know, you’re always welcome here, Vynn. Even if $playername isn’t with you.”
It seems to be a sobering thought for Vynn, whose laughter evaporates on the spot. Instead, they look thoughtful. “That’s… It’s an honour, Sir Grahm.”
“As touching as all this is, let’s not keep them any longer, yes?” your mother, ever the voice of reason, says before ushering you out the door.
Your parents are still standing in the doorway, waving to you, as you descend the gravel path towards the stable. You make sure to grab a lantern before you mount Faiche as it is almost completely dark at this point. Vynn does the same, and soon the two of you are riding next to each other.
“It went well!” Vynn says after a while, their voice uncannily loud in the quiet of the night.
“It did,” you say, finding yourself smiling at the thought of it. “They still see me as their child. They still… love me.”
A big grin spreads across Vynn’s face. “Of course they do! You <i>are</i> very lovable, $playername.”
Warmth spreads through you and you allow yourself to enjoy it for a while as you let the conversation with your parents play out in your head once again. You can feel Vynn’s gaze on you all the while, their dark eyes alight with a certain type of fondness they rarely display.
Despite this having been a matter between your parents and you, it seems that Vynn was very invested in the outcome. You wonder whether it’s because they care for you that much, or because the complicated relationship they have with their own family increases the love they have for yours.
You keep riding back along the Cassja River as you and Vynn talk idly about the day’s events, the road before you illuminated only by your lanterns and the stars.
[[Soon enough, Vynn turns the conversation to other matters.|Chapter6.14]]
“There was more I wanted to ask you,” Vynn says, lowering their voice. “About…<i>everything</i>, you know? About that fae woman, and about what’s been going on.”
They had mentioned wanting to learn more about all this, and at this point you don’t think refusing to divulge information would be fair to them. Vynn and you are in this together now - if you expect them to keep your secret, they deserve to know everything you have to offer.
It is the middle of the night and there is nobody around. Still, you ride as close to Vynn as possible and keep your voice down.
“Fine, I’ll fill you in…”
You tell Vynn about Maeve, and everything you have learned from her so far. You tell them about the thoughts and questions you have been struggling with. They listen quietly, an intense expression on their face.
“So clearly at least a certain group of fae have plans for you. That puts you in a vulnerable position in more than one way. If anyone finds out, the opportunity for blackmail alone is… unsettling,” they say.
Their mouth is set in a grim line as they keep thinking. “You need to do something.”
“Do what?” you ask. “I’ve been busy enough just getting used to everything, to be honest.”
“And I get that, but if you don’t make the first move at some point, you’ll always be forced to react. That might back you into a corner, sooner or later.”
“Vynn, speak plainly. What are you getting at?”
They exhale softly. “I just mean you shouldn’t play the role of a passive observer in all this. The only ones who have your best interest at heart are you and me - so it’s up to us to make sure something is done. You’ll end up being someone’s pawn if you do nothing. Or… are you fine with that?”
[[“I have no intention of becoming anyone’s pawn. I just want to do… what’s right.”|Chapter6.15A]]
<<if $Az >55>>
[[“Aren’t I Az’Lean’s pawn already? I don’t care about my best interests, only his.”|Chapter6.15B]]<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 60 && $Azknows is not "yes">>
[[“I wouldn’t mind being Maeve’s pawn, to be honest. The passion she has for helping her fellow fae is...inspiring.”|Chapter6.15C]]<<endif>>\VVynn’s face brightens up a little. “Good. That’s good. Then… what do you think is the right thing to do?”
Vynn doesn’t have to clarify - you know that they are talking about the conflict with the fae. This is the question it all seems to come back to. A question that used to be one of many political topics for debate, but not much more, has somehow become personal. You don’t like being confronted with this when you still feel like there’s so much you don’t know.
However, you can’t deny that Vynn is right. If you have no idea what you want to do, you’ll get pulled along by someone with more determination. You might end up getting taken advantage of.
What is it that you want? What is the right thing to do?
<<if $Maeve > 30 >>
[[“I think ending this conflict peacefully is the obvious best choice. Maybe it’s impossible, but it’s what I would want to do.”|Chapter6.16A]]<<endif>>\
<<if $Maeve > 30 && $Azknows is not "yes">>
[[“I think humanity is taking more than they should. They are being too ruthless to innocent fae. The right thing to do would be… to change that, somehow.”|Chapter6.16B]]<<endif>>\
[[“I think the defence of our kingdom should be our highest priority. My existence is the perfect example of the types of things the fae would do in order to take down the royal family. I want to stop them, and I want to keep you and all other humans safe.”|Chapter6.16C]]
Vynn looks sad. You don’t want them to pity you - after all, this is what you’ve always dreamed of. Being a knight involves self-sacrifice, there’s no way around that. It’s a good thing.
“I should have expected you to say that. Even if I don’t entirely agree, I’ll help you as much as I can,” they say softly. <<if $Azknows is not "yes">> “Then, you might have to tell him the truth. If he finds out from anyone other than you, you’ll likely lose everything.”
You let their words sink in. They are probably right with that assessment, though that doesn’t make it any easier. <<endif>>\
<<if$Azknows is "yes">>”It’s a good thing that you already told him the truth, though we should think about ways for you to truly gain his trust. His faith in you must be somewhat shaken up by all this.” <<endif>>\
“You are right,” you say, dread pooling in your stomach once more. All of this wasn’t going to get any easier.
Vynn looks at you carefully. “Do you have any plans on what to do to make sure you remain in Az’Lean’s good graces?”
You ponder the question for a while. It seems that simply remaining at his side, being a good Champion, might not be enough. Even though you really didn’t do anything wrong, you feel like you have to make up for the danger your existence causes. You feel like you need to act in some way, to truly show him the extent of your devotion.
One idea suddenly springs to mind.
[[“I could… try to apprehend Maeve. If I turn her in, that would cut me off from any contact with the fae, and I would stop her from continuing whatever it is she’s trying to do. That should prove my loyalty, right?”|Chapter6.16D]]
[[“No, wait. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t fully commit myself to Az’Lean.”|Chapter6.16E]]
Vynn nods slowly. “That makes sense. I’m a bit surprised to hear you say that, but I don’t necessarily disagree. I don’t know her, or her plans, but something <i>does</i> need to change, and I doubt change will come from within the royal family. So, if that’s what you want to do, I’ll help you as best as I can.”
“You- really? I didn’t know you cared that much about this conflict,” you say.
“It’s less the conflict I care about, and more… well, <i>you</i>. The kingdom, the fae - neither of those mean half as much to me as your well-being. But seeing as you <i>are</i> fae, and as things currently stand, you’d be exiled or executed if anyone in the castle found out about it… yes, something needs to change.”
Vynn seems uncharacteristically serious and it takes your breath away for a moment. When they had said you were in this together, they truly meant it. It’s… almost difficult to wrap your head around.
“Thank you, Vynn. That- that means a lot to me.”
“If you decide to work with Maeve, then… Do you think I could meet her as well? At some point? I just- I have to make sure that she’s trustworthy.”
You ponder that idea for a minute. Maeve and Vynn meeting…
[[“I’d have to ask her first, of course, but I do agree that it would be a good thing for you to meet her.”|Chapter6.16F]]
[[“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I appreciate your help, Vynn, but my meetings with Maeve are just for me.”|Chapter6.16G]]Vynn’s gaze turns soft and warm, like molten chocolate. “That’s an admirable position to take. I don’t know how feasible it is - playing both sides tends to end in disaster.”
“I don’t see it as playing both sides,” you are quick to clarify. “I think there shouldn’t be two warring sides in the first place.”
“Right. But right now they exist, and you plan to associate yourself with both of them, correct? For the time being, you’ll have to play both sides. As I said, it’s an admirable endeavour, and I plan to help you in any way I can, but… there might be nothing you can do. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”
You take Vynn’s words to heart, going over them again and again in our head. You know they are right. If you try to create peace between the two factions, you might end up betraying both of them - or getting betrayed by them in return. The likelihood that anything good will come of this is small. It might be easier to just pick a side and fully commit.
But would that be the right thing to do?
[[“I know what I’m getting into, Vynn. I’m certain - avoiding conflict and forging a chance for peace is the only cause worth fighting for.”|Chapter6.18A]]
[[“Wait, maybe you’re right. Maybe peace is impossible to achieve in my lifetime. I should reconsider this…”|Chapter6.17A]]
Vynn’s gaze turns bright, as if they reached some sort of understanding. “Yes, I completely agree. Something needs to be done, and you might just be in a position to do it.”
“Me siding with the fae… wouldn’t bother you? Even though you’re human?”
Vynn laughs bitterly. “What I am doesn’t matter. The kingdom, the fae - neither of those mean half as much to me as your well-being. But seeing as you <i>are</i> fae, and as things currently stand, you’d be exiled or executed if anyone in the castle found out about it… yes, something needs to change.”
Vynn seems uncharacteristically serious and it takes your breath away for a moment. When they had said you were in this together, they truly meant it. It’s… almost difficult to wrap your head around.
“Thank you, Vynn. That- that means a lot to me.”
“Would your plan be to work with Maeve? To achieve whatever she is trying to achieve?” Vynn asks.
“I doubt I’ll be able to change anything on my own. There’s… still so much I don’t even know about the fae. Like it or not, she is the only other fae I know. I’ll have to rely on her if I want to get anywhere with this,” you reason.
Vynn hums quietly. “Do you think I could meet her as well? At some point? I just- I have to make sure that she’s trustworthy. I can’t with good conscience just let you get involved in something like this without knowing.”
You ponder that idea for a minute. Maeve and Vynn meeting…
[[“I’d have to ask her first, of course, but I do agree that it would be a good thing for you to meet her.”|Chapter6.16F]]
[[“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I appreciate your help, Vynn, but my meetings with Maeve are just for me.”|Chapter6.16G]]
Vynn nods slowly - there’s something almost like disappointment in their eyes. You don’t want them to pity you - after all, this is what you’ve always dreamed of. Being a knight involves self-sacrifice, there’s no way around that. It’s a good thing.
“I suppose it would be the path of least resistance for you. Even if I don’t entirely agree, I’ll help you as much as I can,” they say softly. <<if $Azknows is not "yes">> “Then, you might have to tell Az’Lean the truth. If he finds out from anyone other than you, you’ll likely lose everything.”
You let their words sink in. They are probably right with that assessment, though that doesn’t make it any easier. <<endif>>\
<<if$Azknows is "yes">>”It’s a good thing that you already told Az’Lean the truth, though we should think about ways for you to truly gain his trust. His faith in you must be somewhat shaken up by all this.” <<endif>>\
“You are right,” you say, dread pooling in your stomach once more. All of this wasn’t going to get any easier.
Vynn looks at you carefully. “Do you have any plans on what to do to make sure you remain in Az’Lean’s good graces?”
You ponder the question for a while. It seems that simply remaining at his side, being a good Champion, might not be enough. Even though you really didn’t do anything wrong, you feel like you have to make up for the danger your existence causes. You feel like you need to act in some way, to truly show him the extent of your devotion.
One idea suddenly springs to mind.
[[“I could… try to apprehend Maeve. If I turn her in, that would cut me off from any contact with the fae, and I would stop her from continuing whatever it is she’s trying to do. That should prove my loyalty, right?”|Chapter6.17D]]
<<if $Maeve > 30>>
[[“No, wait. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t fully commit myself to Az’Lean.”|Chapter6.17E]]<<endif>>\
“That is probably the correct course of action,” Vynn says. Although they are words of agreement, you can tell that Vynn would prefer some other solution. It is a feeling you can understand, you suppose. Despite how much they complain about being a knight, you know for a fact that Vynn is not only compassionate, but honourable - even towards a fae they haven't ever met, like Maeve.
You can see that, despite that, they value your decision above everything else. “If you are certain that that’s what you want to do, then I’ll help you.”
<i>Are</i> you certain?
[[“I know what I’m getting into, Vynn. I am certain - I will do everything for the safety of our kingdom and our prince. No matter what. I want to try and apprehend Maeve.”|Chapter6.18B]]
[[“Maybe I am not certain…”|Chapter6.16E]]
Vynn waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts - and elaborate.
Something about turning Maeve in to gain Az’Lean’s favour makes you hesitate. It’s not a bad plan, it might work, but is it the right thing to do?
Who knows what that might mean for Maeve. You would make every fae your enemy.
<i>But aren’t they already? The enemy.</i>
But aren’t you one of them?
<i>A burden you must bear. Your personal suffering is nothing compared to the kingdom’s safety.</i>
Vynn is looking at you. They wouldn’t want you to suffer. They wouldn’t expect you to do anything for anyone else, because they don’t believe in a duty that isn’t chosen. That’s why they had looked sad earlier…?
“$playername? I’m sorry if it seemed like I was forcing you to make a decision like this right now. I just figured it was something to think about…”
No, they are right. It shouldn’t even be a difficult decision to make. The answer should be obvious.
[[“I know what I’m getting into, Vynn. I am certain - I will do everything for the safety of our kingdom and our prince. No matter what. I want to try and apprehend Maeve.”|Chapter6.18B]]
<<if $Maeve > 30>>
[[“I have changed my mind - avoiding conflict and forging a chance for peace is the only cause worth fighting for. Betraying Maeve is not an option.”|Chapter6.18A]]<<endif>>\
Vynn makes a sound of disappointment. “I… suppose that is fair. If you don’t want me to be a part of that, I understand. Though, it will make it more difficult for me to help you, and…”
Something dark flits through their eyes, just briefly. “If I don’t know what Maeve is telling you, then I’ll just be left to worry on my own. I know you’re much better at assessing a threat than I am, $playername, but even you can be lured into a trap or something like that. You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this alone.”
Something is tugging at your heart. You know Vynn is concerned about you. They are trying to help in any way they can. <i>They can’t help if you won’t let them in. They want to be a part of whatever is happening in your life. This… is significant.</i>
“I’m not sure,” you say, trying to buy yourself more time to think.
“It would also be a good cover story if you ever happen to get caught. If it’s the two of us hanging out in the middle of the night, no one would question it. It would be safer, for you and for Maeve.”
You know that Vynn is making a good point but your mind stumbles a little over how far Vynn has already thought this through. Were they always this… shrewd?
You try to look at them - really look at them - but your lantern only illuminates part of their face, and their hair keeps obscuring the rest with every step their horse takes. You can’t get a good look at their expression.
Still, you feel the need to relent, just a little.
“How about this: Whenever I see Maeve next, I’ll ask her about it. If she has an interest in meeting you, then I’ll think about it some more. Sound good?”
“That does sound good!” Vynn says, sounding pleased.
They didn’t… manipulate you into saying that, did they? You feel bad for doubting their sincerity, but with Vynn it’s getting harder to tell what they’re thinking lately.
It’s interesting, however, to see how quickly Vynn has latched onto this. It seems that accepting you as a changeling has opened the gateway for them to seek out more opportunities to get involved with fae. Or, you wonder, maybe they had always been interested in mutual understanding, and that is precisely why they were able to accept you so easily. Either way, you feel like you’re lucky in that regard.
“I was supposed to be meeting her tonight, at midnight,” you say, gazing up at the sky. “She’s probably waiting for me right now, but of course we won’t make it.”
“You’ll figure something out. Let me know what she says, and what decision you come to. I’ll respect it either way.”
[[“Yes, I’ll make sure to talk to her about it.”|Chapter6.18C]]
Vynn’s face lights up in something like wonder. “I have never talked to a dryad before! I bet there’s so much knowledge about the fae and their ways that has been wiped from our common history books. What an opportunity.”
It’s interesting to see how quickly Vynn has latched onto this. It seems that accepting you as a changeling has opened the gateway for them to seek out more opportunities to get involved with fae. Or, you wonder, maybe they had always been interested in mutual understanding, and that is precisely why they were able to accept you so easily. Either way, you feel like you can really count yourself lucky for having someone like Vynn by your side.
“I was supposed to be meeting her tonight, at midnight,” you say, gazing up at the sky. “She’s probably waiting for me right now, but of course we won’t make it.”
“You’ll figure something out. Let me know if she’d be comfortable with letting me join your meeting. If she needs convincing, tell her that it would be a good cover story for if we ever happen to get caught. Nobody would question us hanging out together, even in the middle of the night.”
It is not a bad point, but your mind stumbles a little over how far Vynn has already thought this through. Were they always this… shrewd?
[[“Yes, I’ll make sure to talk to her about it.”|Chapter6.18C]]
“It sounds as though you have made your choice - for now, at least. We might be forced to choose only one side after all, but for now, I think it’s good to recognise that what we really want is simply… peace.” Vynn speaks the word with utter reverence.
You can tell that they don’t truly believe that two of you will be able to achieve anything as grand as peace, but it seems that they are willing to try. Whether they are just indulging your idealism or not, you’re grateful for their support either way.
“I suppose, at least for now, it is us two against the world,” you say. “Our very own third faction - one single human and one single fae. Everything has to start somewhere.”
Vynn laughs lightly. “Let’s hope it won’t stay that small for long. No point in fighting for peace and harmony if only the two of us actually want it.”
“I’d hope that, deep down, <i>everyone</i> would rather end this conflict peacefully than continue it. But as long as there is something to gain, humanity won’t easily be satisfied. And as long as the fae remain wholly unorganised, there won’t be much we can do to stop individual attacks. Where to even start…” You trail off, quickly losing yourself in thought.
“Honestly, we shouldn’t be discussing this here, out on the road in the middle of the night, but I also figure we won’t be able to stop ourselves. It’ll be a few hours before we’re back, so might as well use the time to come up with a plan on how to foster mutual understanding. We - and by that I really mean mostly you - need to convince both Az’Lean and Maeve to not take any drastic measures.” Vynn pauses. “Though, neither of them is really at the top of either of the two sides… How we would even begin to talk to King Az’Marn or whoever leads the fae, I have no idea.”
“Even just convincing Az’Lean or Maeve of anything will frankly be a challenge,” you say with a sigh. “Though if we could get both of them to just… give up on their grudges…”
<<if $Azknows is "yes">>
Vynn scoffs. “Unlikely. Before anything else, we need to make sure Az’Lean is willing to speak to <i>you</i>.”
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of returning to the castle. You were able to put that thought aside for a while now, but it’s dawning on you that Az’Lean probably won’t welcome you back with open arms. Worst case scenario, this may just be your last night alive.
A shaky laugh escapes you. “Then what’s even the point?”
“Don’t write him off just yet! I can try to vouch for you, if he still doubts you!”
You’re not sure if that would make things better or simply condemn Vynn to the same fate as you.
“I suppose we’ll see,” you say quietly. “Let’s say, through some sort of miracle, he accepts me and lets me stay. Then what?”
<<else>>
Vynn scoffs. “And how is that supposed to work? You’d have to tell him the truth about yourself first. How else are you going to explain why you know Maeve and have been talking to her for weeks?”
A shiver runs down your spine. No matter how you turn it over in your head, it seems that the right thing to do would be to tell Az’Lean the truth, and not just eventually, but sooner rather than later. There’s no telling how he’d react - whether he’d even let you stay. Fae aren’t allowed to live here, after all, so Az’Lean should feel obligated to exile you. You’d have to bank on the fact that he’d turn a blind eye to you breaking the law and… well, it isn’t very likely.
You shouldn't tell him, for your own safety. Right?
“It's not like I think telling him would go over well, but it would be even worse if he figured it out for himself... I suppose in that scenario I’d have to tell him the truth and hope that, by some miracle, he is willing to accept me and let me stay,” you say quietly. “No matter how unlikely that is, let’s at least assume we get this far. Then what?”<<endif>>\
“If it is at all possible, you’d smooth things over with Az’Lean and then…” Vynn hesitates for a moment. “You’d have to figure out how deep his grudge against the fae runs. I assume the Queen’s death has a lot to do with it. That’d be the next step.”
<<if $Thianneknows is "yes">>
“Well, telling Az’Lean the truth would at the very least get Thianne off my back. So that’s reason enough to do it, I guess. I have no idea what Thianne’s stance on the fae is, but I get the feeling she’s mainly content to do what’s best for Az’Lean,” you say with a shrug.
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Vynn says. “If you could convince her that resolving this conflict peacefully would benefit Az’Lean, we could get her on our side.”
You’re not convinced that Thianne would even listen to what you have to say, to be honest. “I guess.”
<<else>>
“If we can somehow get Az’Lean to accept me, then I’m sure we’d get Thianne’s support as well. She’s his most trusted advisor, so it would probably be a relief for Az’Lean to able to share this knowledge with her. I don’t think she has any grudge of her own against the fae, so she might be open to a more peaceful approach to conflict resolution,” you say.
“Good point. On the other hand, the more people know about your secret, the more likely it is to get out to someone we don’t want knowing about this,” Vynn cautions. "I suppose, in the end, maybe you shouldn't tell anyone about it if you don't have to."
You know they are right, though you wish you at least didn’t have to lie to the people you consider friends. “I guess.”<<endif>>\
In the end, you know it's your decision to make.
<<if $Lesterknows is "yes">> “We should also talk to this Lester guy you mentioned earlier. As a half-fae, I’m sure he has his own unique viewpoint on the conflict and on ways to resolve it. We might want to get him in on this, provided you think we can trust him.”
“He’s not a bad person, but that doesn’t mean we should involve him in all of this. I’ll think about it,” you say, just barely suppressing a yawn. It has gotten really late, surely past midnight at this point. <<else>>
“Is there anyone else you think would support us? Someone who doesn’t have a grudge against the fae and you could trust with your secret?” Vynn asks.
“I suppose there’s always Lester. He’s half-fae, so I’m sure he has his own unique viewpoint on the conflict and on ways to resolve it. Then again, I don’t know whether he’s the type of person we should get in on this. I’ll think about it,” you say, barely suppressing a yawn. It has gotten really late, surely past midnight at this point. <<endif>>\
Vynn chuckles lightly. “That’s some pretty complex social engineering we’ll have to do, $playername.”
[[“It feels like we’re slowly figuring this out. I wouldn’t call it a plan yet, but it’s something.”|Chapter6.19A1]]
[[“So, what, we just talk to people and hope they end up siding with us? Great. That’s not going to be easy.”|Chapter6.19A2]]
[[“You know, Vynn, it was nice knowing you…”|Chapter6.19A3]]What were you thinking, trying to end this conflict all by yourself? Who do you think you are? You are an outcast on both sides - you should be glad if either side accepts you fully, and here you are, trying to play both. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.
As nice as your idea was, clearly it’s just a pipe dream. You have to be more realistic about this. Maybe you should fully commit yourself to Az’Lean, and hope beyond hope that he will accept you and give you an opportunity to prove your loyalty. One way to prove your loyalty already comes to mind…
<<if $Maeve > 30>> Alternatively, you could commit to helping Maeve. She’s clearly working towards a concrete goal, and she seems to be reasonable about it. So far, she hasn’t yet asked you to do anything aside from share information with her. Maybe she really is in a position to bring about change - maybe if you help her, you could stop the kingdom from further antagonising the fae. Maybe that is the right thing to do.
[[“I have decided to help Maeve with her endeavours. I feel like she has the right idea - someone needs to change the kingdom from the inside out if the situation for the fae is ever going to improve.”|Chapter6.17B]]<<endif>>\
[[“I have decided to commit myself fully to Az’Lean, and I’ll try to apprehend Maeve in order to prove my loyalty to him.”|Chapter6.17D]]
“For what it’s worth - I agree. It’s not like I have anything against Az’Lean, but is blind support of his actions really the best course of action?” Vynn lets the question hang in the air for you to ponder.
Of course, blind devotion is a dangerous thing. Then again, it’s not really your place to make these kinds of decisions. You’re not the person in charge - you’re not even a member of the council. Your opinion doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Yet here Vynn is, asking you to decide for yourself what the right thing to do is - as if you have any right.
Not that Vynn ever cared about the way things were supposed to be done. Maybe they have a point.
“That being said, what do you want to do instead?”
“I don’t want to do anything that could be to the detriment of the kingdom. I wouldn’t be able to stomach that. But maybe there’s a way to end this conflict without one side crushing the other. I know Az’Lean seems insistent on being ruthless when it comes to dealing with the fae, but maybe his approach is… wrong. I think ending this conflict peacefully would be the best choice. Maybe it’s impossible, but it’s what I’d want to do.”
Vynn’s gaze turns soft and warm, like molten chocolate. “That’s an admirable position to take. I don’t know how feasible it is - playing both sides tends to end in disaster.”
“I don’t see it as playing both sides,” you are quick to clarify. “I think there shouldn’t be two warring sides in the first place.”
“Right. But right now they exist, and you plan to not fully align yourself with either of them, correct? For the time being, you’ll have to play both sides. As I said, it’s an admirable endeavour, and I plan to help you in any way I can, but… there might be nothing you can do. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”
You take Vynn’s words to heart, going over them again and again in our head. You know they are right. If you try to create peace between the two factions, you might end up betraying both of them - or getting betrayed by them in return. The likelihood that anything good will come of this is small. It might be easier to just pick a side and fully commit.
But would that be the right thing to do?
[[“I know what I’m getting into, Vynn. I’m certain - avoiding conflict and forging a chance for peace is the only cause worth fighting for.”|Chapter6.18A]]
[[“You know what, maybe I was right before. I have decided that I will do everything for the safety of our kingdom and our prince, after all. To prove my loyalty to him, I want to try and apprehend Maeve.”|Chapter6.18B]]
<<set $humanity to $humanity + 10>>\
“It sounds as though you have made your choice. It’s not a bad one - no one can fault us for doing our jobs, right? We are knights after all. We did swear that we would put the safety of the kingdom, its people, and the royal family above all else. It’s only right that we keep our words,” Vynn says, sounding like they’re convincing themselves more than you.
You can tell that they still struggle with the expectations placed upon them, but it seems that they are willing to try to uphold them. Whether they are just going along with your devotion or whether they truly believe that this is the right thing to do, you suppose you’re grateful for their support either way.
“I suppose our first order of business will be not losing our jobs,” you say.
“Or our lives,” Vynn adds cheerily. “Everything has to start somewhere, though in the end, it all hinges on Az’Lean, doesn’t it?”
<<if $Azknows is "yes">>
“We have to do everything we can in order to prove our loyalty to him, and hope he will somehow be able to find it in himself to forgive me,” you say. “I still think trying to turn Maeve in will be our best bet.”
<<else>>
“I will have to tell him the truth, and hope he will somehow be able to accept me. We’ll need to do everything we can in order to prove our loyalty to him,” you say. “I still think trying to turn Maeve in will be our best bet.”<<endif>>
“Honestly, we shouldn’t be discussing this here, out on the road in the middle of the night, but I also figure we won’t be able to stop ourselves. It’ll be a few hours before we’re back, so might as well use the time to come up with a plan on how to actually do it - or what to do if we fail. We - and by that I mean really mostly you - will have to tell Az’Lean everything you know about Maeve. I doubt we’d be able to apprehend her without his help.” Vynn pauses. “Actually, we really shouldn’t do anything behind his back. That’d just make things worse.”
“So it all hinges on Az’Lean giving me the opportunity to prove myself in the first place,” you say with a sigh. “It might be easier to just cut down the tree in the castle garden, but then there’d be no proof of Maeve’s existence and we’d just look like vandals.”
“I’m afraid you won’t get out of having to talk to Az’Lean first and foremost,” Vynn says with a pained grimace. “I can accompany you, if you think that’d help.”
<<if $Azknows is "yes">>
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of returning to the castle. You were able to put that thought aside for a while now, but it’s dawning on you that Az’Lean probably won’t welcome you back with open arms. Worst case scenario, this may just be your last night alive.
<<else>>
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of returning to the castle. You were able to put that thought aside for a while now, but it’s dawning on you that you will have to tell Az’Lean the truth sooner rather than later, and you have no idea how he will react. You can’t imagine this will go over well. Fae aren’t allowed to live here, after all, so Az’Lean should feel obligated to exile you. You’d have to bank on the fact that he’d turn a blind eye to you breaking the law and… well, it isn’t very likely.
<<endif>>\
A shaky laugh escapes you. “We’ll see.”
<<if $Thianneknows is "yes">> “At the very least, telling Az’Lean the truth will get Thianne off my back, so there’s that to look forward to,” you add.
<<else>>
“I wonder if he’ll tell Thianne about it. I get the feeling he tells her everything,” you add. <<endif>>\
“It might help if I tried to vouch for you,” Vynn continues their thought from earlier. “I can attest to the fact that you grew up as an exemplary, most human knight.”
You’re not sure if that would make things better or simply condemn Vynn to the same fate as you.
“I suppose we’ll see,” you say quietly. “Let’s say, through some sort of miracle, he accepts me and lets me stay. Then what?”
“If it is at all possible, you’d smooth things over with Az’Lean, we’d go after Maeve, and then…” Vynn hesitates for a moment. “Well, it’s really up to him, isn’t it? He’s the prince, after all.”
“But shouldn’t we think about what we could do, as well?” you question. “I feel like there’s something only I can do…”
Vynn perks up at that. “Don’t tell me you’re suggesting to become a spy for Az’Lean instead, and infiltrate the fae? That’s a horrible idea. You’re his Champion, you’re just supposed to protect him. That’s it. Don’t do anything unnecessary.”
You simply shrug. “Like you said, it’s up to him.” If Az’Lean decided that that’s what you should be doing, then you certainly wouldn’t refuse him. It’s not your place to question him, after all.
“If we can somehow get Az’Lean to accept me, then I’m sure we’d get Thianne’s support as well. She’s his most trusted advisor, so it would probably be a relief for Az’Lean to be able to share this knowledge with her,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back in another direction.
You feel like, if you really get into the details with Vynn, they’ll get to the point where they realise the disdain they still harbour for being a knight - and having to follow someone else’s orders. There’s no good that can come from discussing how far you’d be willing to go with them.
“Good point. On the other hand, the more people know about your secret, the more likely it is to get out to someone we don’t want knowing about this,” Vynn cautions.
You know they are right, though you wish you at least didn’t have to lie to the people you consider friends. “I don’t think Thianne is the type to gossip.”
“The one person we really have to keep this a secret from is King Az’Marn,” Vynn says, frowning. “I doubt he’d even give you the chance to explain yourself.”
You imagine having that conversation with the king and it makes your skin crawl. You’d accept any judgement he passes over you, but you doubt it would end any other way than with your head rolling. A part of you hopes that Az’Lean would spring to your defence, but you know that as it stands, that’s little more than a pipe dream.
No matter how all of this is going to go, you know there will be a lot more secrecy and deceit waiting for you in your future. You suppose it’s time to make your peace with it.
[[“You know, Vynn, I have faith in Az’Lean. I’m sure he’ll be able to understand that my devotion to him is real, and that he can ultimately trust me.”|Chapter6.19B1]]
[[“So, all I have to do is convince Az’Lean to make an exception for me in every regard, even though he clearly holds a grudge against all fae. Great. That’s not going to be easy.”|Chapter6.19B2]]
[[“You know, Vynn, it was nice knowing you…”|Chapter6.19B3]]
<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
“It sounds as though you have made your choice - and I do think it’s the correct one. There’s a lot happening in the kingdom that I don’t agree with, and with the position you’re in, I think you are much more likely to achieve any kind of positive change for the fae than those random attacks at the border.” Vynn sounds confident in their opinion, and once again you’re surprised that they care so much about all this.
You can tell that they truly believe in your ability to make a difference - almost as much as Maeve does. Whether it is truly the fae’s well-being they care about, or whether this just stems from Vynn’s desire to act against authority, you’re grateful for their support either way.
“I’m really not in any position to say this, but I’m sure your willingness to help and do the right thing is greatly appreciated by other fae, as well,” you say. “Who knows where all of this will lead us, but I’m glad you’re along for the ride.”
Vynn laughs lightly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t lead us too far into the fae lands - I hear humans can’t survive a day in there.”
“I wonder why that is,” you say. “There’s still so much I don’t even know about what it means to be fae. Maeve really has her work cut out for her when it comes to teaching me. I hope there’s some way that I can actively help her, at this point…” You trail off, quickly losing yourself in thought.
“Honestly, we shouldn’t be discussing this here, out on the road in the middle of the night, but I also figure we won’t be able to stop ourselves. It’ll be a few hours before we’re back, so might as well use the time to come up with a plan on how to proceed. We - and by that I really mean mostly you - will have to do everything you can to remain in Az’Lean’s good graces.” Vynn pauses. “If you lose your position, that really would be the worst case scenario. You know Az’Lean pretty well by now, yes? Think you can do it?”
“You’re asking whether I can keep playing the part of the loyal Champion, even when I might be actively going behind his back,” you say with a sigh. “Honestly, I probably could theoretically do it. I’m more worried about the stress from lying all the time killing me.”
<<if $Azknows is "yes">>
Vynn frowns. “I don’t know what you were thinking when you decided to tell him the truth, but I’d be more worried about him killing you instead. Before anything else, we need to make sure Az’Lean isn’t going to just exile you on the spot.”
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of returning to the castle. You were able to put that thought aside for a while now, but it’s dawning on you that Az’Lean probably won’t welcome you back with open arms. Worst case scenario, this may just be your last night alive.
A shaky laugh escapes you. “I honestly can’t see this working out for me.”
“Don’t give up just yet! I can try to vouch for you - convince him that you grew up as a human and are indeed the model knight. We’ll have to do some sweet talking, get him to trust us. It won’t be easy, but together we might be able to convince him to give you a chance.”
You’re not sure if that would make things better or simply condemn Vynn to the same fate as you. Az’Lean will constantly be suspicious of you, making it that much more difficult to do anything.
“I suppose we’ll see,” you say quietly. “Let’s say, through some sort of miracle, he accepts me and lets me stay. Then what?”
<<else>>
Vynn frowns. “We have to make sure that absolutely no one finds out about you - especially Az’Lean. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’d exile you on the spot.”
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of being discovered. Fae aren’t allowed to live here, after all, so Az’Lean would feel obligated to exile you. You’d have to bank on the fact that he’d turn a blind eye to you breaking the law and… well, it isn’t very likely.
No, you can’t let him find out. Ever.
“What if he does find out?” you ask. “What then?”
“Then we pray for a miracle,” Vynn says with a scoff. “Who knows, maybe he likes you too much to get rid of you by that point.”
You don’t really like the way Vynn phrased that, but you can’t say they’re wrong. If Az’Lean genuinely were to care about you…
“In the event he finds out the truth and, by some miracle, is willing to accept me and let me stay,” you say quietly. “No matter how unlikely that is, let’s at least assume that’s what happens. Then what?”<<endif>>\
“If it is at all possible, you’d smooth things over with Az’Lean and then…” Vynn hesitates for a moment. “You’d have a hard time avoiding suspicion. Let’s just hope this outcome doesn’t happen.”
<<if $Thianneknows is "yes">>
“Well, the bigger problem is that Thianne knows the truth, and she’s threatened to tell him about it eventually,” you say bitterly. “I have no idea what to do to get her off my back.”
“We’ll figure something out, I promise,” Vynn says. “In fact, I’d say that’s our highest priority right now. Maybe we can get some dirt on her, create a sort of blackmail stalemate…”
“I doubt Thianne has much to hide…”
There are other ways to deal with her, of course, but you’re nowhere near ready thinking about them. Not if you don’t have to.
<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows is "yes">> “We should also talk to this Lester guy you mentioned earlier. As a half-fae, I’m sure he has his own unique viewpoint on the conflict and reasons to support the fae. We might want to get him in on this, provided you think we can trust him.”
“He’s not a bad person, but that doesn’t mean we should involve him in all of this. I’ll think about it,” you say, just barely suppressing a yawn. It has gotten really late, surely past midnight at this point. <<else>>
“Is there anyone else you think would support us? Someone who would support the fae and you could trust with your secret?” Vynn asks.
“I suppose there’s always Lester. He’s half-fae, so I’m sure he has his own unique viewpoint on the conflict and on ways to resolve it. Then again, I don’t know whether he’s the type of person we should get in on this. I’ll think about it,” you say, barely suppressing a yawn. It has gotten really late, surely past midnight at this point. <<endif>>\
Vynn chuckles lightly. “That’s some pretty complex social engineering we’ll have to do, $playername.”
[[“It feels like I’m starting to accept that even more lies and deceit lie ahead of me. I know in the end it will be worth it.”|Chapter6.19C1]]
[[“So, all I have to do is gain Az’Lean’s trust, deceiving him all the while, and then using that to secretly keep working with Maeve. I can’t see how this could end badly!”|Chapter6.19C2]]
[[“You know, Vynn, it was nice knowing you…”|Chapter6.19C3]]
“That is not a <i>bad</i> course of action,” Vynn says. Although they are words of agreement, you can tell that Vynn would prefer some other solution. It is a feeling you can understand, you suppose. Despite how much they complain about being a knight, you know for a fact that Vynn is not only compassionate, but honourable - even towards a fae they haven’t ever met, like Maeve.
You can see that, despite that, they value your decision above everything else. “If you are certain that that’s what you want to do, then I’ll help you.”
It won’t be easy, that much you understand, but it’s feasible. With Vynn’s help, you could do it. Deciding that you have done enough second guessing, you give Vynn your answer.
[[“I know what I’m getting into, Vynn. I am certain - I will do everything for the safety of our kingdom and our prince. No matter what. I want to try and apprehend Maeve.”|Chapter6.18B]]Vynn nods slowly. “That makes sense. I don’t know her, or her plans, but something <i>does</i> need to change, and I doubt change will come from within the royal family. So, if that’s what you want to do, I’ll help you as best as I can.”
“You- really? I didn’t know you cared that much about this conflict,” you say.
“It’s less the conflict I care about, and more… well, <i>you</i>. The kingdom, the fae - neither of those mean half as much to me as your well-being. But seeing as you <i>are</i> fae, and as things currently stand, you’d be exiled or executed if anyone in the castle found out about it… yes, something needs to change.”
Vynn seems uncharacteristically serious and it takes your breath away for a moment. When they had said you were in this together, they truly meant it. It’s… almost difficult to wrap your head around.
“Thank you, Vynn. That- that means a lot to me.”
“If you decide to work with Maeve, then… Do you think I could meet her as well? At some point? I just- I have to make sure that she’s trustworthy.”
You ponder that idea for a minute. Maeve and Vynn meeting…
[[“I’d have to ask her first, of course, but I do agree that it would be a good thing for you to meet her.”|Chapter6.16F]]
[[“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I appreciate your help, Vynn, but my meetings with Maeve are just for me.”|Chapter6.16G]]<<if $lie > 3>> “Whether we have a concrete plan or not, It shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. How much do you think Maeve values your opinion?” <<else>>
“Whether we have a concrete plan or not, I’m sure it’ll work out fine,” Vynn says softly. “After all, you’re pretty good at getting other people to trust you. People can feel your sincerity.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“And that’s exactly what I mean. But let’s stay on topic. How much do you think Maeve values your opinion?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to judge. Clearly, the well-being of the fae is her top priority, but she seems more than happy to use words over violence - at least so far. Who knows how far she’d go if push came to shove. At the very least, I know she’ll hear me out. During our next meeting, I’ll tell her I’m fine with helping her in peaceful ways, not by sabotaging or betraying Az’Lean. We’ll see if she is open to compromise.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “Do you think I could meet her as well? After you’ve had your talk with her, of course.”
It is strange to imagine Vynn and Maeve meeting, talking to each other. Honestly though, you feel like they’d get along.
“I can at the very least ask her about it,” you say without making any promises.
It is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of harmony between humans and fae. Deep down you know just talking to people won’t fix anything, but there’s really nothing else you can do. So what if you are somehow able to convince Az’Lean and Maeve to play nice? So what if you can get Lester and Thianne in on this?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20A]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “Actually, I disagree. For you, something like that should be child’s play,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. How much do you think Maeve values your opinion?” <<else>>
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. It might not be easy, but I think you should be able to do it,” Vynn says softly. “After all, you’re pretty good at getting other people to trust you. People can feel your sincerity.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“And that’s exactly what I mean. But let’s stay on topic. How much do you think Maeve values your opinion?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to judge. Clearly, the well-being of the fae is her top priority, but she seems more than happy to use words over violence - at least so far. Who knows how far she’d go if push came to shove. At the very least, I know she’ll hear me out. During our next meeting, I’ll tell her I’m fine with helping her in peaceful ways, not by sabotaging or betraying Az’Lean. We’ll see if she is open to compromise.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “Do you think I could meet her as well? After you’ve had your talk with her, of course.”
It is strange to imagine Vynn and Maeve meeting, talking to each other. Honestly though, you feel like they’d get along.
“I can at the very least ask her about it,” you say without making any promises.
It is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of harmony between humans and fae. Deep down you know just talking to people won’t fix anything, but there’s really nothing else you can do. So what if you are somehow able to convince Az’Lean and Maeve to play nice? So what if you can get Lester and Thianne in on this?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20A]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “Oh, don’t say that. It’s not like you to give up. Besides, I can’t imagine this will be much of a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. How much do you think Maeve values your opinion?” <<else>>
“Oh, $playername, don’t say that! It might not be easy, but I think you should be able to do it,” Vynn says softly. “After all, you’re pretty good at getting other people to trust you. People can feel your sincerity.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“And that’s exactly what I mean. But let’s stay on topic. How much do you think Maeve values your opinion?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to judge. Clearly, the well-being of the fae is her top priority, but she seems more than happy to use words over violence - at least so far. Who knows how far she’d go if push came to shove. At the very least, I know she’ll hear me out. During our next meeting, I’ll tell her I’m fine with helping her in peaceful ways, not by sabotaging or betraying Az’Lean. We’ll see if she is open to compromise.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “Do you think I could meet her as well? After you’ve had your talk with her, of course.”
It is strange to imagine Vynn and Maeve meeting, talking to each other. Honestly though, you feel like they’d get along.
“I can at the very least ask her about it,” you say without making any promises.
It is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of harmony between humans and fae. Deep down you know just talking to people won’t fix anything, but there’s really nothing else you can do. So what if you are somehow able to convince Az’Lean and Maeve to play nice? So what if you can get Lester and Thianne in on this?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20A]]
While you are crossing through Hollowpeann territory on your way back, you start to feel an odd sensation. It’s like a building pressure in the air - foreboding.
“I think we are being watched,” Vynn whispers at the same time.
“Let’s slow down a little,” you say, gripping the reins more tightly.
Once you reach a part of the road that’s a bit more open, you slowly come to a stop. Without the steady noise of hooves on the dirt path, it is suddenly eerily quiet. The rushing of the river next to you sounds almost like a steady stream of whispers, and the rocky terrain of Hollowpeann territory casts sharp and edged shadows. There’s something unsettling about being out here at night.
You try to hold out your lantern as far as you can as you look around, trying to spot anything amiss. A few times your eyes are playing tricks on you, but Vynn’s presence helps keep your mind clear.
Just when you’re about to give up and keep riding, you see him.
On the other side of the river, across the cliff, a beam of moonlight happens to shine across a bright white horse. You recognise the rider instantly: it is the Dullahan you had spotted beyond the border in Westwale territory.
He is dressed in black lace, seated atop a white horse with a single sharp horn on its head, his own severed head held in his outstretched arms as if he’s angling it towards you so he can get a better look. His deathly pale skin and long white hair blur together from this distance, making it look like he’s cradling a small full moon in his palms.
You and Vynn both freeze once you spot him. It was one thing seeing him back then across the border, when there were four of you. It is another thing entirely to see him in the middle of the night, when it’s just you two, and smack dab in the middle of the kingdom. He’s not far from the castle at all.
“It’s that Dullahan from Westwale,” Vynn whispers to you. “What’s he doing here? What should we do?” There’s an undercurrent of panic in their voice.
“It looks like he’s just watching us,” you say. “Do you think he has been following us all this time?”
Before Vynn can answer, a bright light suddenly erupts from the Dullahans head, quickly flickering towards you like a flaming arrow. Once it has crossed the river, you recognise that it isn’t in fact a projectile, but rather a paper doll, enchanted so that its flapping wings can carry it. The light fades and the paper doll lands on the ground in front of you, lifeless.
You don’t dare to take your eyes off of the Dullahan, but now that the paper doll has reached you, he seems to have lost interest in continuing to watch you. The bright white horse turns around, and carries its rider behind an outcropping in the cliffside and out of sight.
“Should we pursue him…?” you wonder aloud, though you already know that Vynn won’t agree to that.
Instead, they have gingerly picked up the paper doll and are in the process of unfolding it.
“As I thought, it’s a letter.”
“Be careful,” you say. “It could be enchanted somehow.”
Vynn ignores you as they begin reading the letter out loud.
“<i>I have witnessed your desire for harmony. The Wild Hunt shall observe for now. We will meet soon.</i> Signed, <i>Cillian</i>. That’s certainly ominous. It seems like he was definitely listening in on our conversation.”
A shiver runs down your spine as you listen. “He must have been following us for a while… What’s he doing here, this far inside the kingdom? Would he have attacked us if we had been talking about something else?”
“All good questions,” Vynn says with a sigh. “I for one am far too tired for all of this. Let’s just be happy that he left us alone and move on.”
“He said he would be observing us and that we would meet soon, and you’re telling me to just move on?” You look out across where the Dullahan, apparently named Cillian, had been, but there is no trace left of him.
Vynn scoffs. “Well, there’s nothing else we can do right now, so… Let’s get going. I want to get to bed.”
“Fine,” you groan, running a hand across your face. What does it matter! Just one more thing to worry about. Just one more thing to keep you up at night. Just one more thing eating away at you at the back of your mind. “But let me keep that.”
Just snatch the letter away from Vynn, tucking it securely into one of your pockets.
Without another word you keep riding, all the while glancing around expecting to see the Dullahan again. The atmosphere is more than tense, and you can’t shake the feeling that you are still being watched.
As you keep riding through Hollowpeann territory, you can’t stop thinking that there’s something you’re forgetting… Some kind of missed opportunity.
You estimate it’s somewhere around three in the morning when you’re finally approaching your destination.
Gaitanis looms ominously on the horizon, giant metal walls surrounding the city. The castle’s white towers are just barely visible, shining in the moonlight like exposed bones.
[[End of Chapter 6 - Crossroads|Chapter7.0A]]<img src="images/Chap7C.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 27th of the Cherry Moon
You awake early from what can only be called an extended nap. It had been beyond late when Vynn and you had returned, but at least you had been able to get some amount of sleep. You hadn’t thought you’d be able to - not with everything that had happened in the last two days.
The decision to use your unique position as a changeling and the Champion in order to advocate for some semblance of peace between humanity and the fae weighs heavily on you. You don’t doubt that it’s the right thing to do at all, but you’re not certain whether you’ll have the strength to do it. It’s possible that a futile struggle lies ahead of you, and that’s something you need to always keep in mind.
As a new day starts, you know new challenges will come with it. As you get up, you do your best to stick to your normal morning routine. Despite the lack of sleep, you don’t want to feel any different than usual. No matter what happens next, you want to be able to act without hesitation. All you have to remember is that, deep down, you are $playername. Just $playername. You might be a changeling, and you might be the Champion, but neither of those make up your core. It might not be easy to figure out who you are outside of these descriptors, but you’re willing to find out.
There’s no place for your insecurities and doubts today - you just have to trust that your sense of self is fine the way it is, and that you are making the right choice.
Even if it means you have to play both sides for a little bit, at least until you know how to go about furthering some kind of harmony between them, you'll do it.
You watch the sun rise with determination as you gear up, fastening the straps of your armour and slipping on your gauntlets. Even though it is just a regular Monday by all accounts, it feels a little bit like you are preparing for battle.
Once you have finished getting ready, you down a cup of water and snack on a bit of dried fruit as a substitute for breakfast.
Last night, you made the decision to somehow get both Az’Lean and Maeve on your side, so that hopefully they eventually will be willing to speak to each other. They might not be the leaders of their respective sides, but they do hold some amount of power. If anyone is going to stop this escalating conflict, it’s going to be you three. Or four, more accurately, since Vynn offered their support as well.
Just as you start wondering where to even begin to improve your relations with Az’Lean and Maeve, a knock on the door startles you out of your thoughts.
“It’s me,” Vynn announces, sounding beyond tired. “Can I come in?”
You quickly unlock the door for them, ushering them inside. Their eyes look a little bloodshot, and there’s a certain tightness about their shoulders that indicates the fact that not only did they get little sleep, but they are nervous as well. It is understandable, you suppose. Despite Vynn’s insistence that they’d stand by your side no matter what, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for dragging them into this.
“Did you manage to get any sleep?” you ask.
“Barely any,” Vynn complains, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “But never mind that. How are you doing?”
“Good, all things considered,” you say, making sure to project an aura of confidence you don’t necessarily have. “Thank you for being here for me, Vynn.”
They smile brightly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, $playername. So, what’s the plan for now?”
<<if $Azknows == "yes">>“First things first - I need to talk with Az’Lean and convince him to let me stay. It won’t be easy, and there is a very real possibility that he’ll punish me,” you say, even though you can’t really imagine that outcome. “Assuming everything goes well, I’ll have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible. I can’t wait another week.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>“One thing I have to figure out as soon as possible is the situation with Thianne. I have to stop her from exposing me, somehow. I might need to tell Az’Lean the truth before she does,” you say, feeling surprisingly calm about it. “Aside from that, I have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible. I can’t wait another week.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>“Well, I need to think about whether I want to bring Lester into the fold,” you say. “Aside from that, I have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible. I can’t wait another week.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows is not "yes" && $Thianneknows is not "yes" && $Lesterknows is not "yes">>“I have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible without arousing suspicion. I just can’t wait another week for our next meeting.”<<endif>>\
Vynn nods. “You should probably also let her know about that message you got last night - the one from that Dullahan. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“To be quite honest, we probably shouldn’t do anything rash,” you say. “Let’s take this one day at a time.”
<<if $Azknows == "yes">>
”Then let’s go see Az’Lean first and figure out where you stand with him. While you have to do the talking, I’ll be there if you need me.”
[[“Thank you, Vynn. Let’s go and get this over with.”|Chapter7C1A]] <<endif>>\
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
“Then let’s lay low until you’ve had the chance to talk to Maeve and figure out what to do about Thianne in the meantime.”
[[“Sounds like a plan.”|Chapter7C1B]]<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>
“Then let’s lay low until you’ve had a chance to talk to Maeve.”
[[“Sounds like a plan.”|Chapter7C1B]]<<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows is not "yes" && $Thianneknows is not "yes" && $Lesterknows is not "yes">>
“Then let’s lay low until you’ve had a chance to talk to Maeve.”
[[“Sounds like a plan.”|Chapter7C1B]]<<endif>>\While you are crossing through Hollowpeann territory on your way back, you start to feel an odd sensation. It’s like a building pressure in the air - foreboding.
“I think we are being watched,” Vynn whispers at the same time.
“Let’s slow down a little,” you say, gripping the reins more tightly.
Once you reach a part of the road that’s a bit more open, you slowly come to a stop. Without the steady noise of hooves on the dirt path, it is suddenly eerily quiet. The rushing of the river next to you sounds almost like a steady stream of whispers, and the rocky terrain of Hollowpeann territory casts sharp and edged shadows. There’s something unsettling about being out here at night.
You try to hold out your lantern as far as you can as you look around, trying to spot anything amiss. A few times your eyes are playing tricks on you, but Vynn’s presence helps keep your mind clear.
Just when you’re about to give up and keep riding, you see him.
On the other side of the river, across the cliff, a beam of moonlight happens to shine across a bright white horse. You recognise the rider instantly: it is the Dullahan you had spotted beyond the border in Westwale territory.
He is dressed in black lace, seated atop a white horse with a single sharp horn on its head, his own severed head held in his outstretched arms as if he’s angling it towards you so he can get a better look. His deathly pale skin and long white hair blur together from this distance, making it look like he’s cradling a small full moon in his palms.
You and Vynn both freeze once you spot him. It was one thing seeing him back then across the border, when there were four of you. It is another thing entirely to see him in the middle of the night, when it’s just you two, and smack dab in the middle of the kingdom. He’s not far from the castle at all.
“It’s that Dullahan from Westwale,” Vynn whispers to you. “What’s he doing here? What should we do?” There’s an undercurrent of panic in their voice.
“It looks like he’s spying on us,” you say. “Do you think he has been following us all this time?”
Before Vynn can answer, a bright light suddenly erupts from the Dullahans head, quickly flickering towards you like a flaming arrow. You and Vynn immediately get ready to fend off an attack, but it turns out that isn’t necessary.
Once the glowing object has crossed the river, you recognise that it isn’t in fact a projectile, but rather a paper doll, enchanted so that its flapping wings can carry it. The light fades and the paper doll lands on the ground in front of you, lifeless.
You don’t dare to take your eyes off of the Dullahan, but now that the paper doll has reached you, he seems to have lost interest in continuing to watch you. The bright white horse turns around, and carries its rider behind an outcropping in the cliffside and out of sight.
“Damn it, he’s getting away. We should go after him,” you suggest half-heartedly, already knowing that Vynn would never agree to that.
Instead, they have gingerly picked up the paper doll and are in the process of unfolding it.
“As I thought, it’s a letter.”
“Don’t just touch stuff like that! You don’t know what it is,” you say. “It could be enchanted somehow.”
Vynn ignores you as they begin reading the letter out loud.
“<i>I have witnessed your decision to abandon your blood. The Wild Hunt shall take that into consideration when it next attacks. We will meet soon.</i> Signed, <i>Cillian</i>. That’s certainly ominous. It seems like he was definitely listening in on our conversation.”
A shiver runs down your spine as you listen. “He must have been following us for a while… What’s he doing here, this far inside the kingdom? Why did he leave a threat like that instead of just attacking us?”
“All good questions,” Vynn says with a sigh. “I for one am far too tired for all of this. Let’s just be happy that he left us alone and move on.”
“He said the Wild Hunt is planning another attack and that we would meet soon, and you’re telling me to just move on?” You look out across where the Dullahan, apparently named Cillian, had been, but there is no trace left of him. You know it would be foolish to try and follow him, but you bristle at having to let him just ride off unscathed.
Vynn scoffs. “Well, there’s nothing else we can do right now, so… Let’s get going. I want to get to bed.”
“Fine,” you groan, running a hand across your face. What does it matter! Just one more thing to worry about. Just one more thing to keep you up at night. Just one more thing eating away at you at the back of your mind. “But let me keep that.”
Just snatch the letter away from Vynn, tucking it securely into one of your pockets. It might be important proof - not just of a future attack, but of your own alignment.
Without another word you keep riding, all the while glancing around expecting to see the Dullahan again. The atmosphere is more than tense, and you can’t shake the feeling that you are still being watched. You’re almost itching to get into a fight, just to get rid of the uncertainty.
As you keep riding through Hollowpeann territory, you can’t stop thinking that there’s something you’re forgetting… Some kind of missed opportunity.
You estimate it’s somewhere around three in the morning when you’re finally approaching your destination.
Gaitanis looms ominously on the horizon, giant metal walls surrounding the city. The castle’s white towers are just barely visible, shining in the moonlight like exposed bones.
[[End of Chapter 6 - Crossroads|Chapter7.0B]]While you are crossing through Hollowpeann territory on your way back, you start to feel an odd sensation. It’s like a building pressure in the air - foreboding.
“I think we are being watched,” Vynn whispers at the same time.
“Let’s slow down a little,” you say, gripping the reins more tightly.
Once you reach a part of the road that’s a bit more open, you slowly come to a stop. Without the steady noise of hooves on the dirt path, it is suddenly eerily quiet. The rushing of the river next to you sounds almost like a steady stream of whispers, and the rocky terrain of Hollowpeann territory casts sharp and edged shadows. There’s something unsettling about being out here at night.
You try to hold out your lantern as far as you can as you look around, trying to spot anything amiss. A few times your eyes are playing tricks on you, but Vynn’s presence helps keep your mind clear.
Just when you’re about to give up and keep riding, you see him.
On the other side of the river, across the cliff, a beam of moonlight happens to shine across a bright white horse. You recognise the rider instantly: it is the Dullahan you had spotted beyond the border in Westwale territory.
He is dressed in black lace, seated atop a white horse with a single sharp horn on its head, his own severed head held in his outstretched arms as if he’s angling it towards you so he can get a better look. His deathly pale skin and long white hair blur together from this distance, making it look like he’s cradling a small full moon in his palms.
You and Vynn both freeze once you spot him. It was one thing seeing him back then across the border. It is another thing entirely to see him in the middle of the night, smack dab in the middle of the kingdom. He’s not far from the castle at all.
“It’s that Dullahan from Westwale,” Vynn whispers to you. “What’s he doing here? What should we do?” There’s an undercurrent of panic in their voice.
“It looks like he’s just watching us,” you say. “Do you think he has been following us all this time? Maybe he wants to talk to us?”
Before Vynn can answer, a bright light suddenly erupts from the Dullahans head, quickly flickering towards you like a flaming arrow. Once it has crossed the river, you recognise that it isn’t in fact a projectile, but rather a paper doll, enchanted so that its flapping wings can carry it. The light fades and the paper doll lands on the ground in front of you, lifeless.
You don’t want to take your eyes off of the Dullahan, but now that the paper doll has reached you, he seems to have lost interest in continuing to watch you. The bright white horse turns around, and carries its rider behind an outcropping in the cliffside and out of sight.
“Should we follow him…?” you wonder aloud, though you already know that Vynn won’t agree to that.
Instead, they have gingerly picked up the paper doll and are in the process of unfolding it.
“As I thought, it’s a letter.”
“How strange,” you say. “Why would he give us a letter instead of just approaching us?”
Vynn ignores you as they begin reading the letter out loud.
“<i>I have witnessed your decision to stay true to your blood. The Wild Hunt shall honour your resolve and observe for now. We will meet soon.</i> Signed, <i>Cillian</i>. That’s a little unsettling. It seems like he was definitely listening in on our conversation.”
A shiver runs down your spine as you listen. “He must have been following us for a while… It does seem like a positive message, though. It seems like we have already accomplished something, without even meaning to. If the Wild Hunt is refraining from attacking recklessly, that’s a good thing. I wonder how he’s planning to meet with us?”
“Good questions,” Vynn says with a sigh. “I for one am far too tired for all of this. Let’s just be happy that he doesn’t mean any harm and move on.”
“He said he would be observing us and that we would meet soon, and you’re telling me to just move on?” You look out across where the Dullahan, apparently named Cillian, had been, but there is no trace left of him. You wish you had been able to speak with him face to face.
Vynn scoffs. “Well, there’s nothing else we can do right now, so… Let’s get going. I want to get to bed.”
“Fine,” you groan, running a hand across your face. What does it matter! Just one more strange occurrence. Just one more thing to keep you up at night. Just one more unanswered question. “But let me keep that.”
Just snatch the letter away from Vynn, tucking it securely into one of your pockets. It might turn out to be important at some point.
Without another word you keep riding, all the while glancing around expecting to see the Dullahan again. The atmosphere is a little tense, and you can’t shake the feeling that you are still being watched. While it’s a good thing that the Wild Hunt seems willing to lay low so as to not disrupt your plans, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you were to disappoint them.
As you keep riding through Hollowpeann territory, you can’t stop thinking that there’s something you’re forgetting… Some kind of missed opportunity.
You estimate it’s somewhere around three in the morning when you’re finally approaching your destination.
Gaitanis looms ominously on the horizon, giant metal walls surrounding the city. The castle’s white towers are just barely visible, shining in the moonlight like exposed bones.
[[End of Chapter 6 - Crossroads|Chapter7.0C]]<img src="images/Chap7A.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 27th of the Cherry Moon
You awake early from what can only be called an extended nap. It had been beyond late when Vynn and you had returned, but at least you had been able to get some amount of sleep. You hadn’t thought you’d be able to - not with the threat of that Dullahan lingering in the back of your mind.
But now is a new day, with yet more challenges awaiting you. As you get up, you make sure to follow your morning routine as thoroughly as possible. Despite your lack of sleep, you want to look presentable and start the day off right. No matter how tumultuous your thoughts might get today, you don’t want to let any of it show. A difficult situation with Az’Lean is awaiting you, and you know that you have to appear a certain way for it to go over well. You have to be the Champion today, more than you are $playername. There’s no place for your insecurities and doubts today - you have to show Az’Lean that you are dependable, trustworthy, and competent.
Even if you don’t always feel that way.
You stoically watch the sun rise as you gear up, fastening the straps of your armour and slipping on your gauntlets. The process helps you - it is like slipping on the skin of someone stronger than you, like donning the mask of your ideal self. Today, you’ll be who you wish you were, not who you actually are. After all, Az’Lean deserves you at your best.
Once you have finished getting ready, you down a cup of water, deciding to skip breakfast for now.
Last night, you made the decision to sever all ties with Maeve and the fae, hoping to hand her over to Az’Lean on a silver platter as a declaration of your loyalty and devotion. Whether you get that far remains to be seen.
Just as you’re wondering whether it is still too early to go see Az’Lean, a knock on your door startles you out of your thoughts.
“It’s me,” Vynn announces, sounding beyond tired. “Can I come in?”
You quickly unlock the door for them, ushering them inside. Their eyes look a little bloodshot, and there’s a certain tightness about their shoulders that indicates not only did they get little sleep, but they are nervous as well. It is understandable, you suppose. Despite Vynn’s insistence that they’d stand by your side no matter what, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for dragging them into this.
“Did you manage to get any sleep?” you ask.
“Barely any,” Vynn complains, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “But never mind that. How are you doing?”
“I’m holding it together,” you say, making sure to project an aura of confidence you don’t necessarily have. “Thank you for being here for me, Vynn.”
They smile wryly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, $playername.”
Their smile fades quickly. “Are you ready?”
Deep breaths. Head held high. Relaxed shoulders.
<<if $Azknows == "yes">> [[“Yes.”|Chapter7A1A]] <<else>>
[[“Yes.”|Chapter7A1B]] <<endif>>
<img src="images/Chap7B.png">
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 27th of the Cherry Moon
You awake early from what can only be called an extended nap. It had been beyond late when Vynn and you had returned, but at least you had been able to get some amount of sleep. You hadn’t thought you’d be able to - not with the decision to aid the fae officially branding you as a traitor, hidden in plain sight.
But now is a new day, with yet more challenges awaiting you. As you get up, you make sure to take your time and enjoy the quiet hours of early morning. Despite your lack of sleep, you want to start the day off feeling relaxed and optimistic. No matter how tumultuous your thoughts might get today, you don’t want them to weigh you down. You’ll have to spend the day fulfilling your duties as the Champion, even though you’ve made the decision to support the fae. It will be exhausting to keep up this act of the devoted knight, but you know that you can do it. All you have to remember is that, deep down, you are $playername. Just $playername, a changeling who got mixed up in all of this. There’s no place for your insecurities and doubts today - you just have to trust that your sense of self is fine the way it is, and that you are making the right choice.
Even if it means feeling like a traitor sometimes.
With a small but hopeful smile you watch the sun rise as you gear up, fastening the straps of your armour and slipping on your gauntlets. Today, what used to be routine feels a bit like putting on a disguise. As daunting as that is, a part of you can’t help but feel excited. Keeping a secret like this, breaking the law and doing something forbidden is as exhilarating as it is terrifying.
Once you have finished getting ready, you down a cup of water and snack on a bit of dried fruit as a substitute for breakfast.
Last night, you made the decision to work with Maeve in order to support the fae in this continuously escalating conflict. Something needs to change about the way they are being treated, and if you are in a position to cause this change, you feel compelled to do everything you can. Vynn offered their support to the cause as well.
Just as you are wondering whether it would be good to introduce Maeve and Vynn to each other, a knock on the door startles you out of your thoughts.
“It’s me,” Vynn announces, sounding beyond tired. “Can I come in?”
You quickly unlock the door for them, ushering them inside. Their eyes look a little bloodshot, and there’s a certain tightness about their shoulders, indicating that not only did they get little sleep, but they are nervous as well. It is understandable, you suppose. Despite Vynn’s insistence that they’d stand by your side no matter what, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for having dragged them into this.
“Did you manage to get any sleep?” you ask.
“Barely any,” Vynn complains, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “But never mind that. How are you doing?”
“Good, all things considered,” you say, making sure to project an aura of confidence you don’t necessarily have. “Thank you for being here for me, Vynn.”
They smile brightly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, $playername. So, what’s the plan for now?”
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>“One thing I have to figure out as soon as possible is the situation with Thianne. I have to stop her from exposing me, somehow. That certainly won’t be easy,” you say, feeling surprisingly calm about it. “Aside from that, I have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible. I can’t wait another week.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>“Well, I need to think about whether I want to bring Lester into the fold,” you say. “Aside from that, I have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible. I can’t wait another week.”<<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows is not "yes" && $Thianneknows is not "yes" && $Lesterknows is not "yes">>“I have to get in contact with Maeve as soon as possible without arousing suspicion. I just can’t wait another week for our next meeting.”<<endif>>\
Vynn nods. “You should probably also let her know about that message you got last night - the one from that Dullahan. Remember to also ask her whether she’d like to meet me. I am very interested in meeting her and learning more, but I also understand if she doesn’t want a human to get involved.”
“I don’t know if she’d be willing to trust you that easily. Not that I know what goes on in Maeve’s head,” you say.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>“Maybe we shouldn’t just go and confront Thianne right away,” Vynn says. “We should think about that before we do anything rash.”
[[“Then let’s figure out a way to contact Maeve without being seen.”|Chapter7B1B]]<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>“What do you want to do first? Talk with Lester or figure out a way to contact Maeve?” Vynn asks.
[[“I have to fulfil my duties with Az’Lean first and foremost. I’ll leave it to you to find Lester. Tell him to come see me this evening.”|Chapter7B1C]]<<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows is not "yes" && $Thianneknows is not "yes" && $Lesterknows is not "yes">>”Then I guess we should figure out a way to contact Maeve,” Vynn says.
[[“Right. How about this - see if you can get assigned to patrol the gardens at night sometime soon.”|Chapter7B1D]]<<endif>>\
<<if $lie > 3>> “Whether you have faith in him or not, it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. When it comes to apprehending Maeve - how strong would you say she is?” <<else>>
“Whether you have faith in him or not, I’m sure it’ll work out fine,” Vynn says softly. “After all, you’re pretty good at getting other people to trust you. People can feel your sincerity.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“And that’s exactly what I mean. But let’s stay on topic. When it comes to apprehending Maeve - how strong would you say she is?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to judge. After all, it’s not like I’ve seen her fight. That said, I can try to make some inferences. Physically, she is not only exceptionally tall, taller than any human I’ve ever seen, but there’s a toughness to her that goes beyond just being muscular. She is a dryad, so I wouldn’t be surprised if her skin was as hard to cut as a tree’s bark. Then, of course, there’s her fae magic to take into account. All in all, I’d be scared to face her on my own.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “You did mention she was linked to the tree in the castle garden, right? So then, in the worst case scenario, we would just have to get rid of the tree.”
“Sure, but it would be much more useful to capture her.”
It is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of what it means to be a knight, and a human. Is it enough to live like a human amongst humans? Is it enough to fight for humanity? Is it enough to give your life for humanity? How much will you have to do to prove that, despite everything, you’re human at your core? Will anything you ever do be enough to prove it to Az’Lean, and most importantly, to yourself?
Even if Az’Lean accepts you, and you can continue to accept yourself, what about everyone else? Will you have to keep lying to keep living? In the end, will you be the only fae left?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20B]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “I guess it might not be easy, but it really shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. When it comes to apprehending Maeve - how strong would you say she is?” <<else>>
“I guess it might not be easy, but I’m sure it’ll work out fine,” Vynn says softly. “After all, you’re pretty good at getting other people to trust you. People can feel your sincerity.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“And that’s exactly what I mean. But let’s stay on topic. When it comes to apprehending Maeve - how strong would you say she is?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to judge. After all, it’s not like I’ve seen her fight. That said, I can try to make some inferences. Physically, she is not only exceptionally tall, taller than any human I’ve ever seen, but there’s a toughness to her that goes beyond just being muscular. She is a dryad, so I wouldn’t be surprised if her skin was as hard to cut as a tree’s bark. Then, of course, there’s her fae magic to take into account. All in all, I’d be scared to face her on my own.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “You did mention she was linked to the tree in the castle garden, right? So then, in the worst case scenario, we would just have to get rid of the tree.”
“Sure, but it would be much more useful to capture her.”
It is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of what it means to be a knight, and a human. Is it enough to live like a human amongst humans? Is it enough to fight for humanity? Is it enough to give your life for humanity? How much will you have to do to prove that, despite everything, you’re human at your core? Will anything you ever do be enough to prove it to Az’Lean, and most importantly, to yourself?
Even if Az’Lean accepts you, and you can continue to accept yourself, what about everyone else? Will you have to keep lying to keep living? In the end, will you be the only fae left?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20B]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “Oh, come on now, don’t say that. Tt really shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. When it comes to apprehending Maeve - how strong would you say she is?” <<else>>
“Oh, come on now, don’t say that. I’m sure it’ll work out fine,” Vynn says softly. “After all, you’re pretty good at getting other people to trust you. People can feel your sincerity.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“And that’s exactly what I mean. But let’s stay on topic. When it comes to apprehending Maeve - how strong would you say she is?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to judge. After all, it’s not like I’ve seen her fight. That said, I can try to make some inferences. Physically, she is not only exceptionally tall, taller than any human I’ve ever seen, but there’s a toughness to her that goes beyond just being muscular. She is a dryad, so I wouldn’t be surprised if her skin was as hard to cut as a tree’s bark. Then, of course, there’s her fae magic to take into account. All in all, I’d be scared to face her on my own.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “You did mention she was linked to the tree in the castle garden, right? So then, in the worst case scenario, we would just have to get rid of the tree.”
“Sure, but it would be much more useful to capture her.”
It is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of what it means to be a knight, and a human. Is it enough to live like a human amongst humans? Is it enough to fight for humanity? Is it enough to give your life for humanity? How much will you have to do to prove that, despite everything, you’re human at your core? Will anything you ever do be enough to prove it to Az’Lean, and most importantly, to yourself?
Even if Az’Lean accepts you, and you can continue to accept yourself, what about everyone else? Will you have to keep lying to keep living? In the end, will you be the only fae left?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20B]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “I agree with you fully. Besides, it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. What can we expect from Maeve going forward? What do you think she’ll have you do?” <<else>>
“It will be worth it, I’m certain. Though I think you shouldn’t rely too much on outright lies,” Vynn says softly. “After all, deception isn’t really your strong suit. You’re too sincere.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“Don’t worry - we’ll figure out a way to play to your strengths. But let’s stay on topic. What can we expect from Maeve going forward? What do you think she’ll have you do?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to say for certain. Clearly, the well-being of the fae is her top priority, but so far she seemed content with getting information from me. She did say she wanted me to try and influence Az’Lean, as well as sabotage him should he try to do anything that would harm the fae. Now that I can say that I am on board, I’m sure she’ll let me in on her more specific plans.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “I guess there’s not much we can do until you’ve had your next meeting with her. That’ll be another week, right?”
“That’s right.” You try to picture Vynn and Maeve meeting, talking to each other. While it makes for a strange picture, you honestly feel like they’d get along.
More than that, it’s strange to imagine yourself fully committing to Maeve, embracing that you are a fae. It hasn’t been that long since you found out, but now that you know, it seems that everything finally fits. Like this has been your destiny all along - like this is exactly what you were always meant to do. You suppose that’s true, in more ways than one.
Still, it is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
The way you’re going, you’re going down a dangerous path. It will be worth it though, in the end.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of causing change in the kingdom from the inside out, of improving the lives of fae. Deep down you know that you might have to get your hands dirty along the way if you really want to see this through. What will you have to do? Keep lying, certainly. Gain Az’Lean’s trust only to use it against him, no doubt. Harming humans? Killing humans? Choosing fae over humans in every regard?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20C]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “If you really want to make a change, there’s no way you could avoid any and all risk. Besides, it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. What can we expect from Maeve going forward? What do you think she’ll have you do?” <<else>>
“You’re right that it will be difficult, and there’s a large chance that this might not work out. Honestly, I think you shouldn’t rely too much on outright lies,” Vynn says softly. “After all, deception isn’t really your strong suit. You’re too sincere.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“Don’t worry - we’ll figure out a way to play to your strengths. But let’s stay on topic. What can we expect from Maeve going forward? What do you think she’ll have you do?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to say for certain. Clearly, the well-being of the fae is her top priority, but so far she seemed content with getting information from me. She did say she wanted me to try and influence Az’Lean, as well as sabotage him should he try to do anything that would harm the fae. Now that I can say that I am on board, I’m sure she’ll let me in on her more specific plans.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “I guess there’s not much we can do until you’ve had your next meeting with her. That’ll be another week, right?”
“That’s right.” You try to picture Vynn and Maeve meeting, talking to each other. While it makes for a strange picture, you honestly feel like they’d get along.
More than that, it’s strange to imagine yourself fully committing to Maeve, embracing that you are a fae. It hasn’t been that long since you found out, but now that you know, it seems that everything finally fits. Like this has been your destiny all along - like this is exactly what you were always meant to do. You suppose that’s true, in more ways than one.
Still, it is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
The way you’re going, you’re going down a dangerous path. It will be worth it though, in the end.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of causing change in the kingdom from the inside out, of improving the lives of fae. Deep down you know that you might have to get your hands dirty along the way if you really want to see this through. What will you have to do? Keep lying, certainly. Gain Az’Lean’s trust only to use it against him, no doubt. Harming humans? Killing humans? Choosing fae over humans in every regard?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20C]]
<<if $lie > 3>> “Oh, don’t say that. Since when are you someone who backs down from a challenge? Besides, it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Vynn says sweetly. “After all, you’re pretty good at telling people what they want to hear and getting them to believe what you say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the effect you have on others.”
You can’t help but frown. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting or admonishing me.”
“A little bit of both, maybe. But let’s stay on topic. What can we expect from Maeve going forward? What do you think she’ll have you do?” <<else>>
“Oh, don’t say that. Since when are you someone who backs down from a challenge? Though maybe you should work on your lying,” Vynn says softly. “After all, deception isn’t really your strong suit. You’re too sincere.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t know how others see you, huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I guess not. Though, I suppose I prefer being earnest over being dishonest anyways.”
“Don’t worry - we’ll figure out a way to play to your strengths. But let’s stay on topic. What can we expect from Maeve going forward? What do you think she’ll have you do?” <<endif>>\
“That’s difficult to say for certain. Clearly, the well-being of the fae is her top priority, but so far she seemed content with getting information from me. She did say she wanted me to try and influence Az’Lean, as well as sabotage him should he try to do anything that would harm the fae. Now that I can say that I am on board, I’m sure she’ll let me in on her more specific plans.”
Vynn hums thoughtfully. “I guess there’s not much we can do until you’ve had your next meeting with her. That’ll be another week, right?”
“That’s right.” You try to picture Vynn and Maeve meeting, talking to each other. While it makes for a strange picture, you honestly feel like they’d get along.
More than that, it’s strange to imagine yourself fully committing to Maeve, embracing that you are a fae. It hasn’t been that long since you found out, but now that you know, it seems that everything finally fits. Like this has been your destiny all along - like this is exactly what you were always meant to do. You suppose that’s true, in more ways than one.
Still, it is difficult to feel optimistic about this entire endeavour, not when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a constant state of worry. Perhaps you should be grateful that nothing terrible has actually happened yet, and in fact, Vynn and your parents turned out to be understanding and supportive. But that just makes you more convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong sooner or later.
The way you’re going, you’re going down a dangerous path. It will be worth it though, in the end.
With mixed feelings, and some semblance of a plan as to what you will be doing once you’re back at the castle, you and Vynn let your discussion end there. It is getting far too late for both of your minds to stay sharp, and talking out in the open is unnecessarily risky, even in the dead of night.
Still, your thoughts keep circling back to the idea of causing change in the kingdom from the inside out, of improving the lives of fae. Deep down you know that you might have to get your hands dirty along the way if you really want to see this through. What will you have to do? Keep lying, certainly. Gain Az’Lean’s trust only to use it against him, no doubt. Harming humans? Killing humans? Choosing fae over humans in every regard?
[[What comes after that? Neither you nor Vynn are even daring to think that far ahead.|Chapter6.20C]]
“He’ll probably want to speak with you alone, to start with,” Vynn says as the two of you leave your chambers. “But I’ll be close by. If he needs my account for anything, call me over.”
“Right,” you say curtly. “If he- if he decides not to forgive me, then-”
Vynn’s eyes darken. “That won’t happen. It better not.”
“Right,” you say again, your voice already feeling strained even though you’ve barely talked at all this morning.
The two of you reach Az’Lean’s chambers. Standing here in front of the wooden doors, you feel like you’re staring down a dragon. But then again, a knight would be fearless in that kind of situation. You are decidedly not fearless, but you take some satisfaction in knowing that you’re not shaking and that every muscle in your face is carefully relaxed. If you can’t be without fear, then at the very least you can push through it.
You knock, sharply, forcing yourself to keep breathing. It’s tempting to hold your breath in anticipation, but you know it’ll muddy your senses.
Az’Lean immediately throws open his door. He is wearing his black armour, and by the look on his face he hasn’t slept a wink either. His gaze is completely neutral, not giving anything away, as he regards you and Vynn.
His brows furrow. “Chev Hollowpeann?”
Vynn forces a smile. “I figured out what’s going on with $playername, yesterday. So if you need my opinion on the matter, I’ll be waiting outside.”
“You figured it out? By yourself?” Az’Lean asks.
Vynn’s smile turns sharp. “That is correct.”
“Fine then. I need someone to guard the door, anyway,” Az’Lean says dismissively. “Wait outside.”
“As his majesty wishes,” Vynn says.
It feels like stepping into a dragon’s nest as you cross the threshold into Az’Lean’s chambers and the door falls closed behind you, separating you from the safety of Vynn’s presence.
You force yourself to look forward and face Az’Lean - and whatever he has in store for you.
He is still looking at you as if he has trouble tearing his gaze away. Is he on guard? Or is he simply monitoring your expression, trying to read you?
“$playername,” Az’Lean says, and as soon as he does it feels like the mask of neutrality he had so carefully erected begins to crack, showing pain and uncertainty underneath. “Let’s have a seat.”
“Of course.”
You expect him to lead you over to his desk, but surprisingly enough Az’Lean sits down at the edge of his bed, beckoning you to join him. That must be a good sign, right? You cautiously follow him and take a seat atop the soft, silken covers, making sure to keep the appropriate amount of distance between you.
Az’Lean doesn’t face you, instead staring straight ahead. It probably makes it easier for him to voice his thoughts.
“I have thought a lot about what you told me two days ago. I have tried to… come to terms with it, in a way. There’s a few things I figured out relatively quickly. One, I cannot blame you for not knowing the truth earlier. You have lived as $playername Grahm, and I believe you when you say you grew up as a human would. ”
He speaks calmly, and the tone of his voice is carefully controlled to sound as neutral as possible. Still, you notice that he almost has to force the words out at some points. He continues: “Two, while I would have preferred not being confronted with this, the fact that you decided to tell me the truth was a good thing. The alternative would have been much, much worse. That said, the past is in the past, what we do need to worry about is your… future, within this kingdom.”
You quietly take in his words, trying to parse their meaning - trying not to get your hopes up.
“I understand. Do you think there is one?” you ask carefully.
“That’s the question, isn’t it? The lawful thing to do would be to exile you.”
“But…?”
Az’Lean finally turns to look at you, a pinched expression on his face. “Well, it’s not the only option. I could decide to keep your secret. If the truth got out anyway, I’d simply feign ignorance. Another option would be to relieve you of your duties, but let you remain in Grahm territory.”
“You sound like you haven’t decided yet. I daren’t be hopeful, but I’ll say this: there’s no lengths I won’t go to in order to prove my loyalty to you.” You fight the urge to reach out to him, hoping that your words get through to him instead. You’re trying to be sincere, and he <i>has</i> to see that.
He stares at you with full scrutiny before slowly raising an eyebrow. “Truly? It sounds like you have something in mind already.”
This is it - you have to offer him Maeve on a silver platter, and hope that’s enough to convince him.
“I do. I mentioned that it was a fae woman who contacted me and informed me about my- about what I am. As a show of my devotion to you, I offer to capture her. She has unrightfully set foot on the castle grounds, and it were her actions that caused all of this unrest between us. Something has to be done about her, and I volunteer to do it.”
Az’Lean looks intrigued, at the very least. “An interesting proposition. I can’t let you do this on your own, of course. You might warn her and simply stage an attempt to arrest her. But I do agree that something must be done about it, and I’ll have you tell me everything you know about her.”
“Of course. I will spare no detail,” you’re eager to promise.
There’s a moment of silence as Az’Lean seems to think deeply. You notice the darkness in his eyes as he keeps looking at you - his gaze is almost too much to bear, but you remain steadfast and meet it head on. Is this how he will always look at you from now on? Or will you be able to find that softness again that he had shown you before?
“Let me put it this way, $playername. You’re on somewhat of a probation - on thin ice, in other words - but I will allow you to stay for now. However, I will keep a sharp eye on you and won’t tolerate any kind of suspicious behaviour.”
It does sound like it won’t be easy to win his full trust back, but the fact that he is letting you stay is already proof enough that you mean something to him, surely. It feels a bit like you each have a tight grip in the other’s heart - a most painful stalemate.
“I understand. That seems like a fair deal to me.”
“There is one more condition,” Az’Lean says, slowly drawing out the words. “I am the only one who gets to decide when and how to best use your powers to aid the kingdom. I was thinking about it yesterday and came to the conclusion that I should view this as an opportunity.”
Az’Lean moves closer to you, watching you intently. His hand, clad in black steel, comes to rest softly against your cheek. It burns. You bear it.
“I’ll use you to the fullest, $playername.”
You’re not certain whether it’s a promise, or a threat - it makes you tense up in anticipation either way. The moment passes as quickly as it began and Az’Lean puts distance between you once more, his hand falling to his side.
“Let us call in Hollowpeann and discuss how to proceed.”
[[“Of course. Thank you, Az’Lean,” you say earnestly.|Chapter7A2A]]
[[“Of course. Thank you, your majesty,” you say with the appropriate reverence. |Chapter7A2A]]
[[“Of course”, you say curtly.|Chapter7A2A]]
[[You simply nod, your words failing you.|Chapter7A2A]]
“So, you should probably start by telling him about Maeve and her connection to the tree in the garden, then from there explain how and why she reached out to you,” Vynn says as the two of you leave your chambers. “You’ll have to do the talking, but I’ll be close by. If he needs my account for anything, call me over.”
“Right. Tell him about Maeve, then about me,” you say curtly. “If he- if he decides not to accept me, then-”
Vynn’s eyes darken. “That won’t happen. It better not.”
“Right,” you say again, your voice already feeling strained even though you’ve barely talked at all this morning.
This suddenly seems like a huge risk. Telling Az’Lean that you’re a changeling and hoping that selling out Maeve will be enough to make him forgive you sounds far-fetched, the more you think this over. Then again, it would be much worse if he found out on his own, so this might be the only chance you get to tell him.
You’ll just have to hope for the best. At least Vynn is with you.
The two of you reach Az’Lean’s chambers. Standing here in front of the wooden doors, you feel like you’re staring down a dragon. But then again, a knight would be fearless in that kind of situation. You are decidedly not fearless, but you take some satisfaction in knowing that you’re not shaking and that every muscle in your face is carefully relaxed. If you can’t be without fear, then at the very least you can push through it.
You knock, sharply, forcing yourself to keep breathing. It’s tempting to hold your breath in anticipation, but you know it’ll muddy your senses.
Az’Lean immediately opens the door, likely already expecting you. “Good morning, Vynn, $playername. I hope you had a nice day off yesterday,” he says casually, beckoning you to step inside.
“It was good,” you say. There must have been something odd about your tone, causing Az’Lean to look from you to Vynn with a raised eyebrow.
You start wringing your hands, gaze fixed intently on the metal shutters in front of Az’Lean’s window.
“We’re actually here because $playername has something important to discuss with you,” Vynn says, damning you to your fate. You can’t back out now.
“That’s right. I need to tell you something,” you say slowly. It’s not your intention to let the words hang in the air and build suspense, you simply need to force them out before you have the chance to regret them. “It- It is very difficult for me to talk about, so bear with me.”
Az’Lean steps closer to you, whether out of curiosity or concern you can’t tell. You ignore the way it feels like he’s backing you into a corner.
“I promise I’ll listen, $playername,” Az’Lean says and you notice he sounds confused more than anything.
You take a deep breath and steel yourself. You are a knight, for the love of the Gods, you can do this. You just have to push through.
“That tree in the castle gardens, that weeping willow, you know which one I’m talking about, right? I have come to learn it is connected to a dryad grove somewhere, and that dryads can use this connection to gain access to the castle garden,” you begin to explain.
Immediately, Az’Lean’s face darkens, and he turns incredibly serious. You can tell that he wants to say something, likely to demand more information, but he’s holding back from interrupting you.
“As for how I know about that…” You hesitate. Once you say it, you can’t take it back. The way Az’Lean’s eyes are gleaming right now with barely hidden fury - you don’t want him to look at <i>you</i> like that.
“I was approached by a dryad there. I should have told you this sooner, but- She- She had come specifically to speak to me, and what she told me-” The words get stuck in your throat.
Az’Lean is looking at you wide-eyed. You realise he’s scared - of the fact that a dryad was so easily able to enter the castle grounds and contact you, and of what you are about to say next.
“She told me that I was a changeling who had, unbeknownst to me or my parents, been smuggled into the Grahm family.” You rush to get the words out. A sense of relief washes over you once you have said them, quickly replaced by the dread of not knowing how Az’Lean is going to react.
The room is silent for a moment. Vynn is watching your exchange with Az’Lean closely, and the prince seems occupied with keeping his cool.
“You… believe her?” he asks after a while, something hopeful still lingering in his voice. He wants you to say that Maeve lied.
You could do that. He might even buy it.
But it would be more than just choosing not to disclose your secret to him - it would be an outright lie, a purposeful deception.
It would be a kind of betrayal, and it would surely come back to bite you.
[[You can't lie to him, not after you already decided to prove your devotion to him. “I didn’t believe her at first, but I have confirmed it for myself. I am a changeling, Az’Lean.”|Chapter7A2B]]
As you lead Vynn inside, Az’Lean has moved from his bed to the chair behind his desk, leaving you two to stand on the other side of it. Vynn glances between the two of you, an unspoken question in their eyes.
“I have allowed $playername to stay. Make no mistake, this doesn’t mean I’m fine with any of this. I am merely trying to make the best of this situation,” Az’Lean explains.
“I suppose that’s more than we have any right to ask for,” Vynn says. “I can see the logic in it.”
Some sort of understanding passes between Vynn and Az’Lean. Although you aren’t privy to their thoughts, it looks like they have reached some sort of truce - both willing to put their own personal feelings aside to better serve the kingdom. It sends a wave of relief through you. That is how they <i>should</i> be viewing it. After all, you share that perspective.
“Now then, tell me what you know of this fae woman - and your supposed plans to apprehend her.”
You recount everything you know about Maeve and everything she has told you - including the plans the fae apparently had for you. Surprisingly, Az’Lean isn’t bothered much by that revelation. What does leave him narrowing his eyes, however, is the fact that you are dealing with a dryad.
It was a dryad that killed his mother, though you know it wasn’t Maeve. She would have been a child at the time.
“Dryads are not to be underestimated,” Az’Lean says with a barely concealed growl. “As long as her grove exists, it’ll be impossible to capture her. She will be able to just move to a different tree than the one in the gardens.”
Vynn crosses their arms. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why is a dryad’s tree planted in the middle of the gardens in the first place?”
“That tree has been there for decades. I assume it was planted during a time when our conflict with the fae hadn’t escalated yet. Though leaving it until now has been a massive oversight.” Az’Lean pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Or worse yet, wilful sabotage.”
“If capturing Maeve won’t be possible, then I assume killing her will be just as impossible as long as she has other trees to fall back on,” you say. “The only thing we can do is cut down the tree, I assume.”
Az’Lean nods. “I agree. I would also prefer to do it subtly, and not let anyone know why we’re doing it. We can easily make up an excuse about a spell gone wrong, or something along those lines. If it comes from me, no one will question it.”
“I suppose if we're just cutting down a tree, the three of us will be enough to handle it. No reason to inform anyone else of this,” Vynn says.
“What about Thianne?” you ask.
Az’Lean idly moves a few documents around on his desk as he thinks. “I might have to inform Thianne about this at some point, but only once it’s necessary. For now, the less people know about your secret, the better.”
Vynn smiles in relief. “My thoughts exactly. So if ever you need someone to cover for $playername, know that I volunteer.”
“There certainly will be many missions where $pronoun ability will come in handy. The three of us will have to handle those by ourselves.”
“We do make a good team as it is,” you say. “Though I understand if or when you decide to tell Thianne.”
“Wait. You actually plan on using $pronoun ability? That’s unexpected,” Vynn says with a frown, their eyes darkening.
Az’Lean meets their gaze head-on. “Well, I haven’t decided yet on how to use it, but it would be a waste to pretend it doesn’t exist.”
Vynn suddenly turns to you, a hand tightly gripping your shoulder. “And it doesn’t bother you? Having to change your appearance?”
You’re a bit taken aback by the ferocity of their concern. “I- I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Besides, my comfort matters little when it comes to protecting the kingdom. I would gladly give my life. You know that, Vynn.”
You know that your words aren’t comforting. You know they are not at all what they want to hear.
Vynn’s frown deepens and they turn back to Az’Lean.
“I thought the reason you didn’t want a Champion is because you hated the thought of someone dying for you.”
Az’Lean scoffs. “What can I say - seeing $playername’s devotion made me change my mind.”
The implication is obvious. Az’Lean no longer minds your sacrifice - because of what you are.
Vynn laughs - loud and bitter. “You’re a Gods damned bastard, you know that?”
[[Scold Vynn for their insolence.|Chapter7A3A]]
[[Ignore them. They may think what they wish.|Chapter7A3B]]
[[Silently agree that Az’Lean has obviously come to see you as more expandable now that he knows you are fae.|Chapter7A3C]]
“Don’t speak like that, Vynn. Even if it is on my behalf, I won’t allow it,” you say.
Vynn bristles under your stern gaze. “Someone has to say it. It’s up to <i>his majesty</i> to punish me if it bothers him.”
“There’s no need for any sort of punishment,” Az’Lean is quick to say. “I understand that you only have $playername’s best interests at heart. However, keep in mind that there is a limit to my mercy - of which I have already shown a considerable amount. It is only natural that we are… getting emotional, but it’s not productive right now. Let’s concentrate on dealing with that dryad.”
“So the plan is for us three to cut down that tree and sever any sort of connection Maeve has to the gardens,” you summarise, glad to get back on track. “When should we do it?”
Az’Lean thinks for a moment. “Let’s do it tonight. I’d prefer to do it when the gardens are mostly empty. If it’s just a few guards, I can send them away easily enough. But if there are gardeners and nobles milling about en masse, word will reach my father before we can take action. I’d rather apologise for cutting down a tree after it’s done than try to convince him to allow it without revealing the truth to him.”
“Sounds like we’ll be in for another sleepless night,” Vynn mutters. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be there.”
“Good. Then it’ll be up to us to make some preparations,” Az’Lean says. “$playername, you can start by getting some saws and axes.”
[[“Understood.”|Chapter7A4A]]
You decide not to bother with admonishing Vynn - it’s not your job to censor their words. If Az’Lean sees it fit to punish them over it, that’s his decision, and if he doesn’t mind then neither do you.
Surprisingly enough, Az’Lean deigns to give Vynn a half-smile. “It seems like you care a great deal about $playername’s well-being, and I commend you for that. Remember, however, that a fae living here is a crime - one that I am chosing to ignore. I'd rather $playername be useful and make up for this continued transgression than having to exile or execute one of the best knights we have. Don't question my mercy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Vynn says cooly.
“Good. Then let’s agree to put our no doubt turbulent emotions aside for now and focus on dealing with that dryad.”
“So the plan is for us three to cut down that tree and sever any sort of connection Maeve has to the gardens,” you summarise, glad to get back on track. “When should we do it?”
Az’Lean thinks for a moment. “Let’s do it tonight. I’d prefer to do it when the gardens are mostly empty. If it’s just a few guards, I can send them away easily enough. But if there are gardeners and nobles milling about en masse, word will reach my father before we can take action. I’d rather apologise for cutting down a tree after it’s done than try to convince him to allow it without revealing the truth to him.”
“Sounds like we’ll be in for another sleepless night,” Vynn mutters. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be there.”
“Good. Then it’ll be up to us to make some preparations,” Az’Lean says. “$playername, you can start by getting some saws and axes.”
[[“Understood.”|Chapter7A4A]]
You wouldn’t ever call Az’Lean a bastard, but you find yourself agreeing with Vynn’s sentiment. Az’Lean used to be so adamant about not wanting anyone to risk their lives for him. He had been against getting a Champion, and although he did warm up to the idea, you doubt that his dislike of others making sacrifices for him has disappeared.
No, it is clear that he isn’t as bothered about you doing something dangerous on his orders anymore. Maybe this is his way of punishing you. Better to risk your life by making use of you than simply executing you. You see the logic behind it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. You aren’t even surprised, in all honesty, just disappointed.
You silently wait to see how Az’Lean reacts to Vynn’s words.
Surprisingly enough, he deigns to give Vynn a half-smile. “It seems like you care a great deal about $pronoun well-being, and I commend you for that. Remember, however, that a fae living here is a crime - one that I am chosing to ignore. I'd rather $playername be useful and make up for this continued transgression that way than having to exile or execute one of the best knights we have. Don't question my mercy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Vynn says cooly.
“Good. Then let’s agree to put our no doubt turbulent emotions aside for now and focus on dealing with that dryad.”
“So the plan is for us three to cut down that tree and sever any sort of connection Maeve has to the gardens,” you summarise, glad to get back on track. “When should we do it?”
Az’Lean thinks for a moment. “Let’s do it tonight. I’d prefer to do it when the gardens are mostly empty. If it’s just a few guards, I can send them away easily enough. But if there are gardeners and nobles milling about en masse, word will reach my father before we can take action. I’d rather apologise for cutting down a tree after it’s done than try to convince him to allow it without revealing the truth to him.”
“Sounds like we’ll be in for another sleepless night,” Vynn mutters. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be there.”
“Good. Then it’ll be up to us to make some preparations,” Az’Lean says. “$playername, you can start by getting some saws and axes.”
[[“Understood.”|Chapter7A4A]]
As you cross the castle on your way to retrieving the equipment you’ll need to fell Maeve’s tree, you use the moment of solitude to reflect on Az’Lean’s behaviour. It is clear that he’s mistrustful of you, and that his grudge against the fae colours the way he sees you now. Nevertheless, he has allowed you to stay and to continue being his Champion, and he’s willing to give you a chance to prove yourself.
It is clear that things are different now. There’s no warmth in his interactions with you, and there’s a constant sense of tension in the air. One wrong move and it’s over - you’re both keenly aware of that. This new state of affairs is soul crushing, on some level. Whatever easy camaraderie you’ve had before seems to have been firmly locked away.
The question that remains is: is this only temporary? Or is this how it’s always going to be from now on?
Do you dare hope? Do you dare long for Az’Lean to smile at you again?
A part of you figures that he simply needs time - to come to terms with what you are, to warm up to you again, to be able to see your loyalty once again.
Another part of you knows that things can get broken beyond repair.
In any case, you shouldn’t demand anything of Az’Lean. It is up to him to decide how he feels about you. The only thing you should worry about is proving yourself. Every word you say, every action you take must reflect your devotion. You mustn’t falter. You mustn’t hesitate. You must steel your heart. You must put the duty you have towards Az’Lean and Gaiapeia above any of your own personal feelings.
Before anything, you are the Champion. That is the role you must play.
Lost in your musings as you are, you almost miss Thianne heading towards you from across the corridor until she suddenly stands right in front of you.
“Hey, $playername, do you have a moment?” she asks while crossing her arms.
Az’Lean hasn’t told her anything yet. She doesn’t know.
“Sure, what’s going on?”
“I know you weren’t in the castle yesterday, so maybe you’re the wrong person to ask, but do you know what’s going on with Az’Lean? He was in a foul mood all day yesterday, and he’s given my some kind of nonsensical task to do when really I should continue investigatin’ how a changeling got into the castle two days ago.” She rolls her eyes, clearly irritated. “I can’t be bothered to put up with him when he gets like this, but I am concerned.”
You nod slowly, trying to figure out what you can say - how much you can tell her. It might be necessary to lie, or at least deflect.
[[“Sorry, I have no idea what’s going on.”|Chapter7A5A]]
[[“I might know what is happening, but it’s not my place to tell you about it. That’s up to Az’Lean.”|Chapter7A5B]]
[[“My guess is that the infiltration by that changeling has rattled him. You should give him space for now.”|Chapter7A5C]]
<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
Thianne grunts in response, having expected that answer. “Was worth askin’ you anyway. On another topic, have <i>you</i> had a nice day yesterday? I just realised it’s possibly rude of me to only ask about Az’Lean's well-being and not yours.”
While she is likely only trying to have a chat, you can’t help but feel like Thianne’s eyes are always monitoring your expression, looking for something.
You try your best to sound casual. “It wasn’t bad. I went to visit my parents and Vynn decided to tag along. The weather was great, so the ride wasn’t too bad.”
“That’s nice, that’s nice. I’ve never been in Grahm territory myself, though I hear it’s a very scenic place.”
“Oh, certainly. I’m not widely travelled myself, but nothing beats Grahm territory for me. It was kind of a spontaneous decision to go visit, but I’m glad I did it. I bet we’ll be swarmed with festival preparations before we know it.”
Thianne grimaces. “Don’t remind me. Apparently, this year’s Summer Solstice will be an even bigger, more spectacular event than it usually is, which is great and all, but I just know I’ll get roped into settin’ up all of the magical components required for the performances and exhibits.”
“At least we’ll have time to enjoy the festival once all the preparations are done. I feel bad for all the servants who are on food serving duty during that time,” you say, glad that the topic has strayed far away from what you were doing yesterday, and that Az’Lean was in a bad mood at the same time - coincidentally.
“I don’t usually <i>enjoy</i> festivals, I suffer through them. Too many people for my likin’. Though I am looking forward to seeing the divination rituals,” Thianne says with a hint of a smile on her face. “But speaking of divination, I have something I need to be doin’ right now.”
“Me too, actually,” you say. “Have a good day, Thianne.”
You wonder how it’ll be like when Az’Lean lets her in on your secret.
Will she still speak to you so casually? Will she still share her thoughts and opinions with you?
[[Or will her gaze grow cold, like Az’Lean’s has?|Chapter7A6A]]Thianne raises an eyebrow in surprise. “So you <i>do</i> know. Fair enough, I suppose. It’s up to Az’Lean to share his worries with me, as you said. Still, I’m feelin’ a bit relieved to know that he has at least talked to <i>someone</i> about whatever it is that has got him down. Though I’m not used to being out of the loop.”
“I’m sure you won’t be in the dark for long,” you say with a wry smile. It might be better if she was.
Thianne simply grunts in response, clearly not knowing what to make of this situation. “On another topic, have <i>you</i> had a nice day yesterday? I just realised it’s possibly rude of me to only ask about Az’Lean's well-being and not yours.”
While she is likely only trying to have a chat, you can’t help but feel like Thianne’s eyes are always monitoring your expression, looking for something.
You try your best to sound casual. “It wasn’t bad. I went to visit my parents and Vynn decided to tag along. The weather was great, so the ride wasn’t too bad.”
“That’s nice, that’s nice. I’ve never been in Grahm territory myself, though I hear it’s a very scenic place.”
“Oh, certainly. I’m not widely travelled myself, but nothing beats Grahm territory for me. It was kind of a spontaneous decision to go visit, but I’m glad I did it. I bet we’ll be swarmed with festival preparations before we know it.”
Thianne grimaces. “Don’t remind me. Apparently, this year’s Summer Solstice will be an even bigger, more spectacular event than it usually is, which is great and all, but I just know I’ll get roped into settin’ up all of the magical components required for the performances and exhibits.”
“At least we’ll have time to enjoy the festival once all the preparations are done. I feel bad for all the servants who are on food serving duty during that time,” you say, glad that the topic has strayed far away from what you were doing yesterday, and that Az’Lean was in a bad mood at the same time - coincidentally.
“I don’t usually <i>enjoy</i> festivals, I suffer through them. Too many people for my likin’. Though I am looking forward to seeing the divination rituals,” Thianne says with a hint of a smile on her face. “But speaking of divination, I have something I need to be doin’ right now.”
“Me too, actually,” you say. “Have a good day, Thianne.”
You wonder how it’ll be like when Az’Lean lets her in on your secret.
Will she still speak to you so casually? Will she still share her thoughts and opinions with you?
[[Or will her gaze grow cold, like Az’Lean’s has?|Chapter7A6A]]
<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
Thianne frowns, as though she doesn’t think that’s correct. “Perhaps. I suppose I should wait and see, for now. On another topic, have <i>you</i> had a nice day yesterday? I just realised it’s possibly rude of me to only ask about Az’Lean's well-being and not yours.”
While she is likely only trying to have a chat, you can’t help but feel like Thianne’s eyes are always monitoring your expression, looking for something.
You try your best to sound casual. “It wasn’t bad. I went to visit my parents and Vynn decided to tag along. The weather was great, so the ride wasn’t too bad.”
“That’s nice, that’s nice. I’ve never been in Grahm territory myself, though I hear it’s a very scenic place.”
“Oh, certainly. I’m not widely travelled myself, but nothing beats Grahm territory for me. It was kind of a spontaneous decision to go visit, but I’m glad I did it. I bet we’ll be swarmed with festival preparations before we know it.”
Thianne grimaces. “Don’t remind me. Apparently, this year’s Summer Solstice will be an even bigger, more spectacular event than it usually is, which is great and all, but I just know I’ll get roped into settin’ up all of the magical components required for the performances and exhibits.”
“At least we’ll have time to enjoy the festival once all the preparations are done. I feel bad for all the servants who are on food serving duty during that time,” you say, glad that the topic has strayed far away from what you were doing yesterday, and that Az’Lean was in a bad mood at the same time - coincidentally.
“I don’t usually <i>enjoy</i> festivals, I suffer through them. Too many people for my likin’. Though I am looking forward to seeing the divination rituals,” Thianne says with a hint of a smile on her face. “But speaking of divination, I have something I need to be doin’ right now.”
“Me too, actually,” you say. “Have a good day, Thianne.”
You wonder how it’ll be like when Az’Lean lets her in on your secret.
Will she still speak to you so casually? Will she still share her thoughts and opinions with you?
[[Or will her gaze grow cold, like Az’Lean’s has?|Chapter7A6A]]
Putting Thianne out of your mind for now, you head to one of the equipment storage rooms near the gardens. There, you find everything you’ll need to fell a tree, neatly sorted into boxes stacked upon shelves or hung up on the wall.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” one of the gardeners, a middle-aged woman with a friendly face, asks as you take one of the larger saws off the wall.
“I am supposed to gather saws and axes - something fit for felling a large tree. Prince’s orders,” you say.
The woman immediately begins to offer suggestions and instructions on how to best go about this sort of thing. You’re glad that she isn’t asking about which tree you want to get rid of and why. Luckily, no one questions the prince. No one questions the Champion, either.
It takes some time, and multiple trips back and forth, but you manage to get an assortment of tools up to Az’Lean’s chambers. The gardener had given you some shovels as well, for digging out the roots, as well as magical poisons that would harm the tree without damaging the soil or other plants around.
Why you have to carry all of this to Az’Lean’s chambers when you'll just have to carry it back down later, you don’t know. It wasn’t something to complain about - in fact, you are glad to have some monotonous work to do to keep you occupied.
During that time, it seems Az’Lean has prepared an array of runestones and potions, neatly lining them up on his desk as you carefully set down the last axe you're carrying.
“We may need more than steel to take down a magical fae tree,” he simply explains when he notices you looking at him.
No words are exchanged between you after that, but the silence that follows isn’t entirely unpleasant. It is simply silence.
The rest of the day passes quickly and uneventfully. There’s no meeting scheduled for today, and Az’Lean seems uninterested in doing any sort of combat training or leaving his room much at all. Instead, he buries himself in paperwork at his desk, leaving you to idle about in his room. He doesn’t send you away, though, so you put up with the boredom.
Some time after dinner, Vynn reappears, having finished their patrol duties for the day. They stroll into Az’Lean’s room without a care in the world, a tray of honey cakes balanced on their arms.
“Got them as a gift, thought we might as well share them before our mission tonight,” they say, looking around for a place to put them. They don’t dare move anything on Az’Lean’s desk while he’s working, so in the end they just set the tray down on the windowsill.
Az’Lean eyes the pastries with suspicion and only takes one after Vynn has done so as well. Chopping down a tree on an empty stomach sounds like a bad idea, so you decide to partake as well. The honey cakes are sweet and soft, and you can’t help but wonder who Vynn got them from.
You decide to just ask. “They’re delicious. Who made them?”
“Lady Westwale and Sir Asperame, apparently,” Vynn says with a shrug. “Word is they’ve somehow been roped into providing snacks for the festival, so they’ve started practising how to bake.”
The thought of two seasoned knights wearing aprons and kneading dough is highly amusing to you, and you’re almost sad to be missing out on these kinds of things now that you’re no longer working with the other knights.
Maybe you should try to make time for your fellow knights at some point, just to make sure you’re not falling out of touch with them.
Those are thoughts for another day, however.
[[The sun will begin to set soon, and you have an appointment with a weeping willow.|Chapter7A7A]]Once the sun has mostly set, the three of you make your way to the garden, bringing all of the equipment with you, as well as your weapons. You doubt Maeve would risk showing up and fighting you, but you can’t rule it out.
Due to it being quite a pleasant night, warm and fragrant, a good number of people are still gallivanting around the gardens. A few looks are thrown your way as you deposit the axes and saws on the ground, still a good bit away from the weeping willow.
“You need to get them to leave,” Vynn murmurs as they survey the area. “If for some reason Maeve does show up to attack us, we can’t risk bystanders getting in the way.”
Az’Lean nods. “Right. I’ll let the guards know to evacuate the area. That means my father will be informed about this within the hour, so we have to get this done before he can raise any complaints.”
You take a good look at the willow - its gnarled branches and thick trunk don’t look like they’ll be easily chopped or sawed through. This might be quite the undertaking.
It takes some time to fully clear out the gardens. While Az’Lean is instructing the guards, you and Vynn use the runestones that Az’Lean had prepared in order to erect a ward around the centre of the garden where the tree is located. This way, no one will be able to disturb you.
“I also brought some flame potions. We should only use fire as a last resort, but if we do need to, these should do the trick,” Az’Lean explains as he hands them out. “You can dip your arrows into them or simply pour them onto something flammable.”
<<if $element == "fire">>”I can also use my fire magic, if need be,” you say.<<endif>>\
“I can always use my water magic to put any fires back out,” Vynn adds. “Though I agree it should be our last resort. We don’t want to risk burning down the entire garden, after all.”
“Have either of you ever chopped down a tree?” you ask, eyeing the willow warily.
Both Vynn and Az’Lean shake their heads. Well, you hadn’t expected them to.
“I have helped out with the Grahm orchards a few times,” you continue. “Mind you, we usually just cut trees instead of felling them, and even then those were mainly cherry or apple trees, and not willows. But I guess I somewhat know what we’re doing, at least.”
You walk in a circle around the willow, trying to gauge where best to cut into the trunk. A nervous shiver runs down your back and you can’t help but be on guard. It almost feels like you are being watched. You’re not sure how exactly Maeve’s connection to her trees works, but you wouldn’t put it past her to be observing you right now.
“First, we’ll need to cut a notch into one side of the trunk and put a wedge on the other side, to prevent the saws from getting pinched. I’d suggest doing it here, and here. We’ll need to estimate the felling zone - those rose bushes will have to get crushed, unfortunately,” you say as you indicate the area. “Maybe we can use more runestones to set up some extra wards around there, cushion the fall a bit.”
“On it,” Vynn says as they follow your instructions.
“Your expertise is much appreciated, $playername,” Az’Lean says. You can’t quite tell how sincerely he means it - his voice is still carefully neutral. The fact that he felt the need to say it at all is reassuring, though.
You grab one of the axes, testing its weight in your hand. It feels different from the battle axes you have trained with before, though you suppose you could use this as a weapon in a pinch. Always good to be prepared.
“I’ll cut the notch now,” you announce, and Vynn and Az’Lean give you space.
You hold the axe level at waist height, adjusting your grip before striking the trunk at an angle. As soon as the blade connects with the rough bark, something like a faint electric jolt passes through your arms. You wait for a moment but it passes quickly, and you deliver a second strike. The sensation passes through you again, this time travelling all the way up to your shoulders.
A slightly acerbic scent hangs in the air, heady and thick. You look down at the cut you have made in the bark, wondering whether that’s where the smell is coming from. It looks ordinary enough.
Vynn and Az’Lean are standing behind you, both of them poised and ready to act.
[[Keep going, undeterred. If you hesitate too much, Az’Lean will think your heart’s not in it.|Chapter7A8A]]
[[Take a step back. There’s clearly something strange about that tree.|Chapter7A8B]]So far, nothing has actually happened, so you should be safe to continue. It makes sense that a dryad’s tree would have some unique properties but that isn’t any reason to worry. With that in mind, you raise your axe again and deliver a few more chops to the tree. When nothing happens, you take your time carving out a proper notch. Soon enough, a triangular piece is cut into the trunk.
“I think that should be big enough,” you say as you turn around to face Vynn and Az’Lean. “I suppose we could switch to sawing now.”
“Maybe we should take turns. Two people can saw while the third one keeps an eye out,” Vynn suggests.
Now might be an opportune moment to mention the strange sensation you noticed earlier. “I think it would be a good idea to have someone staying on high alert. When I was cutting the notch, I-”
You don’t get to finish. Something hard hits you squarely in the back, knocking the air out of your lungs and sending you crashing into the ground. There’s barely enough time to get your hands out in front of you to cushion your fall, and the axe goes flying from your grip.
Black spots dance in front of your eyes as you’re trying to breathe through the discomfort - every gasp sends pain shooting through your chest.
“$playername, get up!” Az’Lean is suddenly next to you, shouting down at you in a panic. “We have to move!”
“What- what… is going… on?” You can barely get the words out as you force yourself onto your feet. As soon as you’re upright, Az’Lean roughly grabs your arm and pulls you along, away from the willow.
The willow. Even though it’s a struggle to even get one foot in front of the other, you glance back over your shoulder. The weeping willow is enveloped in a soft glow and and its branches have seemed to grow in length and thickness, almost resembling dozens of long, gnarled arms. They’re crawling along the ground, digging into the dirt and lashing out against everything they touch. A few rose bushes have already been ripped apart, stones from the path have been dislodged, and large gashes run like wounds along the ground.
Az’Lean guides you over to a corner of the gardens where Vynn is already waiting, currently in the process of dipping their arrows in the flame potions Az’Lean had brought.
“How are you holding up, $playername? That looked like a bad hit,” they say.
You take a moment to assess your injuries. Scraped hands and knees from your fall, as well as pain along your back and chest.
“Heavy bruising and likely some damage to my ribs,” you say and take a few deep breaths. It hurts, but it’s manageable. “I don’t think it punctured my lungs, but I’ll have to get it checked.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Vynn mutters darkly. “Az’Lean, what’s the plan?”
“Even though its branches are moving, it seems the tree is at least stuck where it is. We’ll take it down from afar. If that doesn’t work, we’ll get reinforcements. Vynn, aim your arrows at the trunk. Targeting single branches won’t be very effective.”
“Understood.”
Az’Lean turns towards you. <<if $element == "fire">> “Do the same with your magic, $playername.”<<else>> “You’re on arrow dipping duty, $playername. It’ll go much faster if you assist them.” <<endif>>
“Got it,” you answer immediately. As much as you wish you could do more, you’re in no shape to be moving around right now.
“I’ll see if I can use my ice magic to slow its branches down a bit and give you a clear shot,” Az’Lean says as he cautiously takes a few steps forward, trying to gauge the willow’s reach. He inches ever closer until the branches just barely miss him.
You try your best to focus on your own task instead of watching Az’Lean, though you can’t help but keep glancing at him. It is your duty to ensure his safety, so completely leaving him out of your sight is impossible. A few broken ribs wouldn’t stop you from rushing to his side should he find himself in any danger.
The first few tendrils of ice Az’Lean summons are immediately smashed to pieces by the erratic attacks of the branches, so he focuses on freezing the ground instead. You can’t exactly tell what he’s doing, but your best guess is that he’s going for the tree’s roots. Whatever his plan is, it seems to be working - the frozen ground slowly saps the willow’s energy and its movements begin to slow down.
Soon enough the willow’s trunk is entirely engulfed in flames and riddled with arrows. It thaws the ice somewhat, but the stark contrast in temperature weakens the wood further - you can hear it splintering and cracking. Like a dying animal the willow lashes out even more aggressively, tearing out entire shrubs and flinging them at the castle walls.
There’s no doubt that your attacks are damaging it, but it doesn’t seem like it will be enough to bring it down on its own.
“Trees don’t have hearts, but it must have some sort of vital point. What do we need to destroy to kill it?” Vynn asks as they count out the arrows they have left - only six more.
“If it’s fae, the thing that’ll hurt it most will be metal. There’s no way it’ll survive for long if we pierce it with steel,” Az’Lean reasons.
“The problem is getting close enough to do that,” you say.
With the state you’re in, there’s no way you would be able to dash through the willow’s attacks. <<if $element == "earth">> You could use your healing magic, but if there really is damage to your lungs, a quick fix won’t be enough and you’ll risk making it worse. <<endif>> Either Vynn or Az’Lean will have to do it.
As a knight, it should be Vynn’s job, though Az’Lean is more proficient when it comes to combat in close quarters. The decision is ultimately up to him, anyway.
[[You hope Az’Lean will do it himself.|Chapter7A9A]]
[[You hope Az’Lean will ask Vynn to do it.|Chapter7A9A]]
[[A part of you hopes that Az’Lean will rely on you to do it, even though you’re injured.|Chapter7A9A]]You slowly back away, getting some distance between you and the tree.
“Something’s going on with that willow. Whenever I strike it, I can feel a strange sensation in my arms,” you explain. “I don’t know what will happen if I keep going.”
“We can’t just stop,” Az’Lean answers with a frown. “It might be dangerous, but we just have to be ready for that.”
“Maybe we should take turns. Two people can saw while the third one keeps an eye out for any sort of threat,” Vynn suggests. “Though we have to finish that notch first.”
It seems there’s nothing more you can do. At the very least you’ve warned them - you just hope being alert will be enough. It seems unlikely that the willow would just suddenly explode, but you also can’t rule it out. Pretty much anything is possible when it comes to fae magic.
“Then I’ll keep going,” you say. If anyone has to put themselves in harms way, you’d rather it be you.
Despite the tension coiled in your chest, you raise your axe again and deliver a few more chops to the tree. When nothing happens, you take your time carving out a proper notch. Soon enough, a triangular piece is cut into the trunk.
“I think that should be big enough,” you say as you slowly back away once more, not letting your eyes leave the willow.
Being so cautious turned out to be the right call, otherwise you might have noticed it too late. A soft glow has begun to envelop the weeping willow and its branches are creaking as if the wood is about to splinter.
The three of you immediately retreat to a corner of the gardens, eyeing the tree closely.
“What’s happening?” Vynn asks as they draw their bow in preparation.
Az’Lean’s gaze darkens. “It looks like it's moving…”
You notice it as well. The willow’s branches seem to grow in length and thickness, slowly at first and then rapidly, forming into dozens of long, gnarled arms. They’re crawling along the ground, digging into the dirt and lashing out against everything they touch. Rose bushes are being ripped apart, stones from the path are dislodged, and large gashes run like open wounds along the ground.
It’s a good thing you were on high alert - one hit from one of those branches looks like it would be enough to knock someone out.
“It doesn’t look like it can move from its spot, so we should be safe back here. I’m glad we managed to get away in time,” you say before turning to Az’Lean. “How should we proceed?”
“Those branches look powerful. We’ll have to take it down from afar. If that doesn’t work, we’ll get reinforcements. Vynn, dip your arrows in those flame potions and aim at the trunk. Targeting single branches won’t be very effective.”
“Understood.”
Az’Lean turns to you. <<if $element == "fire">> “Do the same with your magic, $playername.”<<else>> “You’re also on arrow dipping duty, $playername. It’ll go much faster if you assist them.” <<endif>>
“Got it,” you answer immediately. As much as you wish you could do more, you know Vynn is by far the best when it comes to attacking from a distance.
“I’ll see if I can use my ice magic to slow its branches down a bit and give you a clear shot,” Az’Lean says as he cautiously takes a few steps forward, trying to gauge the willow’s reach. He inches ever closer until the branches just barely miss him.
You try your best to focus on your own task instead of watching Az’Lean, though you can’t help but keep glancing at him. It is your duty to ensure his safety, so completely leaving him out of your sight is impossible. You plan on rushing to his side should he find himself in any danger, no matter what.
The first few tendrils of ice Az’Lean summons are immediately smashed to pieces by the erratic attacks of the branches, so he focuses on freezing the ground instead. You can’t exactly tell what he’s doing, but your best guess is that he’s going for the tree’s roots. Whatever his plan is, it seems to be working - the frozen ground slowly saps the willow’s energy and its movements begin to slow down.
Soon enough the willow’s trunk is entirely engulfed in flames and riddled with arrows. It thaws the ice somewhat, but the stark contrast in temperature weakens the wood further - you can hear it splintering and cracking. Like a dying animal the willow lashes out even more aggressively, tearing out entire shrubs and flinging them at the castle walls.
There’s no doubt that your attacks are damaging it, but it doesn’t seem like it will be enough to bring it down on its own.
“Trees don’t have hearts, but it must have some sort of vital point. What do we need to destroy to kill it?” Vynn asks as they count out the arrows they have left - only six more.
“If it’s fae, the thing that’ll hurt it most will be metal. There’s no way it’ll survive for long if we pierce it with steel,” Az’Lean reasons.
“The problem is getting close enough to do that,” you say.
You suppose if you can time things right, you might be able to dash through the willow’s attacks. It’s a big risk, that much is obvious, but who else could do it but you? Vynn is worse than you close quarters combat, and Az’Lean is too important to risk his own safety for something like this. You suppose you could also go and get reinforcements.
[[You volunteer to do it. This is the perfect opportunity to prove your devotion - and your worth.|Chapter7A9B]]
[[Wait for Az’Lean’s orders. The decision is ultimately his.|Chapter7A9C]]
“I’ll make this quick,” Az’Lean says while putting on his massive clawed gauntlet. “Vynn, I expect you to cover me.”
It seems like Az’Lean plans to deal the final strike himself. Whether you like it or not, you’re in no position to object. If anything, you should make sure you’re not getting in anybody’s way with the state you’re in right now.
“Understood,” Vynn says.
You slowly sit down on a bench nearby, trying your best not to aggravate your injuries. Even if you can’t be of any help right now, the least you can do is keep watch. As you watch Az’Lean get ready, you make sure to keep the entrance to the gardens within your view. It wouldn’t do for someone to walk in and get hurt in all of this. At this point, you're not sure whether the wards you set up earlier are enough to prevent that.
Meanwhile, Az’Lean has finished putting on his gauntlet. In his other hand, he holds one of the axes you brought - the largest one there was. It isn’t quite a battleaxe, but it should be able to do some damage.
Although they don’t have many arrows left, Vynn seems determined to make the most of them. They fire one arrow at the branches closest to Az’Lean, damaging and distracting them in order to create an opening for him to move in.
Watching it like this, you can’t help but think that Vynn and Az’Lean complement each other very well in their fighting styles. While Az’Lean prefers to move in close, Vynn keeps their distance. Even Vynn’s water magic would be a very effective way to boost Az’Lean’s ice magic. You curse yourself for letting down your guard and getting hurt. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have to sit this out. This was meant to prove your devotion to Az’Lean - instead it proves that he doesn’t need you to get things done.
While the willow’s arms try to pluck out Vynn’s flaming arrow, Az’Lean dashes forward, coating his black steel gauntlet in a layer of ice. One of the gnarled arms of the tree moves to crush him, but Az’Lean elegantly sidesteps the attack. Despite his heavy armour, his movements are fast and calculated.
He does manage to reach the trunk unharmed, but as soon as he stops, one of the willow’s arms knocks into him, pushing him aside. Az’Lean manages to stay on his feet but you can hear the clang of the wood hitting his armour across the entire garden. You know how much it hurts to get struck by one of those.
“Another arrow, Vynn,” you say, trying to analyse the situation as best as you can. Az’Lean won’t be able to land many hits against the trunk with the position he is in right now - the branches will be able to keep hitting him and pushing him away.
“On it.”
Even though Vynn’s arrow strikes true with considerable force, it doesn’t distract the sentient tree for long. With only four arrows left now, they’ll run out before Az’Lean has achieved anything.
The prince is now pressing his gauntlet against the bark, spreading a layer of frost along it. You can hear wood splintering as he strikes the trunk with the axe - once, twice, and then a third time, before the willow once again pushes him away, this time knocking him onto his side.
A large gash runs along the frozen bark, revealing the core of the willow beneath. Az’Lean might be able to stick his blood steel sword inside, effectively poisoning the tree from within. On the other hand, you don’t know how many more attacks Az’Lean can soldier through. His armour might lessen the impact, but getting shoved around like that will leave him bruised at the very least.
Vynn fires another arrow, buying Az’Lean enough time to get back on his feet. As soon as he is up, however, he doesn’t get the chance to continue his attack. The weeping willow has grown more frantic, ignoring the flames that spread along its branches in favour of going after Az’Lean. He’s able to keep up with its attacks - narrowly dodging underneath its gnarled arms reaching out for him, trying to circle around its trunk to get back to the spot he’d been weakening.
This isn’t ideal. You feel like you know how this is going to go - Az’Lean will stab his sword into the weak spot but get hit by the willow’s arms in return. Which other option does he have? As soon as he stands still, he’ll be an easy target.
[[Trust that Az’Lean has got it under control.|Chapter7A10A]]
[[Rush in to help him, despite your injuries.|Chapter7A10B]]“It’s too dangerous for anyone else to do it. I’ll get closer and try to weaken it,” you say. There’s no hesitation in your voice at all, you are fully prepared to do this.
Az’Lean, however, seems to have something else in mind. “I’ll move in closer and try to weaken it,” he says while putting on his massive clawed gauntlet. “Vynn, you’ll give me cover. $playername, stay alert. Once I have opened up a weak spot on the willow’s trunk, I need you to rush in and pierce it with this.” Az’Lean hands you his blood steel sword. “It ought to poison the tree from inside. I want you to only deal the final blow, understood? We need to be able to finish it off, so if we both rush in, we’ll just get in each other’s way.”
His eyes bore into yours, daring you to object to his plan.
You hold your tongue, despite wanting to protest. You should be the one taking this risk, not Az’Lean. How else are you supposed to prove your loyalty to him? You have no choice but to respect his orders, though if it looks like he is in genuine danger, you’re prepared to go against them if necessary.
“I understand,” you say and take his sword with utmost care. After all, you don’t care to find out what would happen to you if you cut yourself on blood steel. It might cause massive damage to you.
“Understood,” Vynn says as well, already readying their next arrow.
Meanwhile, Az’Lean has finished putting on his gauntlet. In his other hand, he holds one of the axes you brought - the largest one there is. It isn’t quite a battleaxe, but it should be able to do some damage.
Although they don’t have many arrows left, Vynn seems determined to make the most of them. They fire one arrow at the branches closest to Az’Lean, damaging and distracting them in order to create an opening for him to move in.
Watching it like this, you can’t help but think that Vynn and Az’Lean complement each other very well in their fighting styles. While Az’Lean prefers to move in close, Vynn keeps their distance. Even Vynn’s water magic would be a very effective way to boost Az’Lean’s ice magic.
While the willow’s arms try to pluck out Vynn’s flaming arrow, Az’Lean dashes forward, coating his black steel gauntlet in a layer of ice. One of the gnarled arms of the tree moves to crush him, but Az’Lean elegantly sidesteps the attack. Despite his heavy armour, his movements are fast and calculated.
He does manage to reach the trunk unharmed, but as soon as he stops, one of the willow’s arms knocks into him, pushing him aside. Az’Lean manages to stay on his feet but you can hear the clang of the wood hitting his armour across the entire garden. It sounds like it hurt.
“Another arrow, Vynn,” you say, trying to analyse the situation as best as you can. Az’Lean won’t be able to land many hits against the trunk with the position he is in right now - the branches will be able to keep hitting him and pushing him away.
“On it.”
Even though Vynn’s arrow strikes true with considerable force, it doesn’t distract the sentient tree for long. With only four arrows left now, they’ll run out before Az’Lean has achieved anything.
The prince is now pressing his gauntlet against the bark, spreading a layer of frost along it. You can hear wood splintering as he strikes the trunk with the axe - once, twice, and then a third time, before the willow once again pushes him away, this time knocking him onto his side.
A large gash runs along the frozen bark, revealing the core of the willow beneath. At this point, it might be possible to pierce the trunk with his blood steel sword, effectively poisoning the tree from within. However, you need to get close first. So far, Az’Lean hasn’t called for you yet, but maybe he’s too preoccupied.
You should probably wait for his signal, you might just get in his way otherwise, like he said. On the other hand, you don’t know how many more attacks Az’Lean can soldier through. His armour might lessen the impact, but getting shoved around like that will leave him bruised at the very least.
Vynn fires another arrow, buying Az’Lean enough time to get back on his feet. As soon as he is up, however, he doesn’t get the chance to continue his attack. The weeping willow has grown more frantic, ignoring the flames that spread along its branches in favour of going after Az’Lean. He’s able to keep up with its attacks - narrowly dodging underneath its gnarled arms reaching out for him, trying to circle around its trunk to get back to the spot he’d been weakening.
This isn’t ideal. You feel like you can’t afford to wait any longer.
[[Wait for Az’Lean to call for you.|Chapter7A10C]]
[[Rush in there now.|Chapter7A10D]]“I’ll move in closer and try to weaken it,” Az’Lean says while putting on his massive clawed gauntlet. “Vynn, you’ll give me cover. $playername, stay alert. Once I have opened up a weak spot on the willow’s trunk, I need you to rush in and pierce it with this.”
Az’Lean hands you his blood steel sword. “It ought to poison the tree from inside. I want you to only deal the final blow, understood? We need to be able to finish it off, so if we both just rush in, we’ll just get in each other’s way.”
“Understood.” You take his sword with utmost care. After all, you don’t care to find out what would happen to you if you cut yourself on blood steel. It might cause massive damage to you.
You are glad though that you listened to his plan, it seems he thought this through.
“Understood,” Vynn says as well, already readying their next arrow.
Meanwhile, Az’Lean has finished putting on his gauntlet. In his other hand, he holds one of the axes you brought - the largest one there was. It isn’t quite a battleaxe, but it should be able to do some damage.
Although they don’t have many arrows left, Vynn seems determined to make the most of them. They fire one arrow at the branches closest to Az’Lean, damaging and distracting them in order to create an opening for him to move in.
Watching it like this, you can’t help but think that Vynn and Az’Lean complement each other very well in their fighting styles. While Az’Lean prefers to move in close, Vynn keeps their distance. Even Vynn’s water magic would be a very effective way to boost Az’Lean’s ice magic.
While the willow’s arms try to pluck out Vynn’s flaming arrow, Az’Lean dashes forward, coating his black steel gauntlet in a layer of ice. One of the gnarled arms of the tree moves to crush him, but Az’Lean elegantly sidesteps the attack. Despite his heavy armour, his movements are fast and calculated.
He does manage to reach the trunk unharmed, but as soon as he stops, one of the willow’s arms knocks into him, pushing him aside. Az’Lean manages to stay on his feet but you can hear the clang of the wood hitting his armour across the entire garden. It sounds like it hurt.
“Another arrow, Vynn,” you say, trying to analyse the situation as best as you can. Az’Lean won’t be able to land many hits against the trunk with the position he is in right now - the branches will be able to keep hitting him and pushing him away.
“On it.”
Even though Vynn’s arrow strikes true with considerable force, it doesn’t distract the sentient tree for long. With only four arrows left now, they’ll run out before Az’Lean has achieved anything.
The prince is now pressing his gauntlet against the bark, spreading a layer of frost along it. You can hear wood splintering as he strikes the trunk with the axe - once, twice, and then a third time, before the willow once again pushes him away, this time knocking him onto his side.
A large gash runs along the frozen bark, revealing the core of the willow beneath. At this point, it might be possible to pierce the trunk with his blood steel sword, effectively poisoning the tree from within. However, you need to get close first. So far, Az’Lean hasn’t called for you yet, but maybe he’s too preoccupied.
You should probably wait for his signal, you might just get in his way otherwise, like he said. On the other hand, you don’t know how many more attacks Az’Lean can soldier through. His armour might lessen the impact, but getting shoved around like that will leave him bruised at the very least.
Vynn fires another arrow, buying Az’Lean enough time to get back on his feet. As soon as he is up, however, he doesn’t get the chance to continue his attack. The weeping willow has grown more frantic, ignoring the flames that spread along its branches in favour of going after Az’Lean. He’s able to keep up with its attacks - narrowly dodging underneath its gnarled arms reaching out for him, trying to circle around its trunk to get back to the spot he’d been weakening.
This isn’t ideal. You feel like you can’t afford to wait any longer.
[[Wait for Az’Lean to call for you.|Chapter7A10C]]
[[Rush in there now.|Chapter7A10D]]<<set $Azknows to "yes">>\
You keep talking, desperate to ignore the way his face contorts in despair. “But I swear to you, I didn’t know about it. You know I grew up with Lady and Sir Grahm. Like my father, I always wanted to be a knight, and since we are the same age, I also always dreamt of being your Champion. I grew up like a normal human and I feel like a human and there was never anything I wanted more than to be a knight. I promise you that. And I am sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner, but it was a lot for me to process, and I didn’t know how you would react.”
You take a moment to observe him. The hostility he gives off is palpable, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his sword arm twitch. Maybe you should be concerned about that, but you’re still holding out hope that this anger isn’t directed at you. Surely, he’s tense because of the revelation that a dryad was able to enter the gardens. Logically, he must know that none of this is your fault - you didn’t know about any of this until recently, and you certainly didn’t ask for this.
“All I am asking for is a chance to prove my loyalty to you before you judge me,” you say.
You can see the turmoil on his face as you finish speaking. Az’Lean takes a few deep breaths, looks you over again and again carefully. His expression is strained, but you can’t tell which way it’s going to break.
“You’re a changeling, but you didn’t know until two weeks ago?” he asks. There’s something like desperation in his voice. He’s hoping he misunderstood.
“Yes,” you say in confirmation.
He turns to Vynn, next.
<<if $pronoun == "his">> “$playername is telling the truth,” Vynn confirms. “Everything he said has been true.” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "her">> “$playername is telling the truth,” Vynn confirms. “Everything she said has been true.” <<endif>>\
<<if $pronoun == "their">> “$playername is telling the truth,” Vynn confirms. “Everything they said has been true.” <<endif>>\
Az’Lean swallows thickly. “Show me. I need to see it.”
He wants you to change your appearance to that of a changeling. You don’t even know if you can do it, as you have only done it once before. You also don’t know if you <i>want</i> to do it, but looking at the uncertainty in Az’Lean eyes, you doubt you’ll be able to salvage this if you refuse.
“Alright,” you say, and your voice breaks on the single word.
Slowly, you pull off one of your gloves and extend your hand. Not only Az’Lean, but also Vynn is staring at you intently - this is the first time seeing you like this for them as well.
You try your best to keep breathing, trying to access the core of magic deep inside you. It was easy the last time, you just had to visualise that feeling of letting go, of letting the illusion fall away like a curtain.
You keep your gaze trained firmly on your own hand, watching as the skin slowly turns grey and wrinkled. As you feel the sensation of change crawling piece by piece across your skin, you watch as Az’Lean’s eyes reflect first disbelief, then fear, followed by a deep sadness. That’s the emotion that lingers the longest, and you can feel that same sadness taking hold inside of you as well.
It’s not the reaction you had hoped for. Slowly, you let your hand return to its human form, quickly putting on your glove once more.
Az’Lean is still looking at you. He hasn’t said a word yet, hasn’t moved. He’s just watching you, blue eyes like pools of murky water.
“There you have it,” Vynn says, breaking the silence. They put an arm around your shoulder, casually expressing their support. They aren’t shocked or disgusted at all, moreso in awe at your abilities, and something about their nonchalant response seems to shake Az’Lean out of his stupor.
“So it is true. That… is a lot to process,” he says slowly. “It’s a good thing you decided to tell me but… I have no idea how to respond to this at all.”
Az’Lean suddenly throws up his arms and begins pacing around his room. “This isn’t good at all. A changeling just infiltrated the castle and attacked us! And now you, what, expect me to take this reveal well? To ignore what you are and just continue living my life?”
“Nothing has to change,” you are quick to point out. “I swear, I have no connection to the fae. All I want is to serve you and this kingdom. Let me prove my loyalty to you.”
“You don’t understand the situation you have just put me in,” Az’Lean hisses. “I can’t- I can’t let you <i>stay</i> here $playername! You know fae aren’t allowed to be here, and as prince, I am very much beholden to the law!”
Vynn scoffs. “As if no royal has ever done anything unlawful. If you believe $playername’s intentions to be true, then what are you afraid of?”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Az’Lean bites back. You can see that he is spiralling, riling himself up into a frenzy. His breathing has become a bit erratic, and his hands are shaking.
Guilt rises steadily within you. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you with this.”
He stares at you, eyes bright like blue flames. He’s assessing you, analysing you, trying to figure you out. Trying to judge whether you are worthy of his trust, and his mercy.
“I need some time to think this through,” he presses out between clenched teeth. “You two stay here. Don’t you dare leave.”
Without sparing you another glance Az’Lean all but dashes out of the room, letting the heavy wooden doors fall closed behind him.
“He’ll come around,” Vynn says, tightening their hold on you. “I can tell he <i>wants</i> to give you a chance.”
You take a deep breath, trying to keep it together. He needs time. A reasonable request. You can give him time. You can do that.
He hasn’t written you off yet. You should be grateful that he is even giving you the benefit of the doubt.
[[“You really think he’ll choose me over his moral obligations?”|Chapter7A3D]]
[[“I know. I get that this must be a shock for him, but Az’Lean’s no fool. He’ll see the value in having my loyalty.”|Chapter7A3D]]
[[“I don’t know. It’s clear that he doesn’t trust <i>any</i> fae. He <i>hates</i> them, Vynn.”|Chapter7A3D]]
“I suppose we’ll see,” Vynn says and shrugs. “No matter what though, I think it was the right call to bring up Maeve and her connection to that tree immediately. It gives him an imminent threat to address, which makes you look like much less of a threat by comparison. Not that you are a threat, but that’s how he’ll think about it.”
Vynn and you spend some more time speculating about what’s going to happen next, and when almost an hour has passed, Az’Lean reenters the chambers, looking a bit more stone-faced than before. Whether that’s a good thing or not, you’re not sure.
“Before I say anything - does anyone else know about your identity?” Az’Lean asks.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>”Thianne already knows. She said she would tell you about it if I didn’t do it first. But that’s not the reason why I decided to tell you - I really do think you deserve to know, and that this is for the best.”
“That saves me some time, at least,” Az’Lean says with a sigh.<<endif>>\
<<if $Lesterknows =="yes">>“I… might have confided in Lester. I thought since he’s half-fae, he might be able to help me understand my situation. He promised not to tell anyone about this.”
“Great,” Az’Lean says with a sigh. “Fine. I know he can be discreet, at least.”<<endif>>\
“I told my parents about it yesterday. They didn’t know about it before.”
Az’Lean winces. “That must have been difficult for them. In any case, let’s keep it to a minimum. <<if $Thianneknows is not "yes">>I will tell Thianne about it at some point, but not right now.<<endif>>”
Hope flares up in your chest. “Does that mean you’ll let me stay?”
“I thought about what you said. I will need some more time to… come to terms with it, in a way. However, I cannot blame you for not knowing the truth earlier. You have lived as $playername Grahm, and I believe you when you say you grew up as a human would. ”
He speaks calmly, and the tone of his voice is carefully controlled to sound as neutral as possible. Still, you notice that he almost has to force the words out at some points. He continues: “While I would have preferred not being confronted with this, the fact that you decided to tell me the truth was a good thing. The alternative would have been much, much worse. That said, the past is in the past, what we do need to worry about is your… future, within this kingdom.”
You quietly take in his words, trying to parse their meaning - trying to keep your expectations tempered.
“I understand. Do you think there is one?” you ask carefully.
“That’s the question, isn’t it? The lawful thing to do would be to exile you.”
Vynn throws him a challenging look. “But…?”
Az’Lean finally turns to look at you, a pinched expression on his face. “Well, it’s not the only option. I could decide to keep your secret. If the truth got out anyway, I’d simply feign ignorance. Another option would be to relieve you of your duties, but let you remain in Grahm territory.”
“You sound like you haven’t decided yet. I daren’t be hopeful, but I’ll say this: there’s no lengths I won’t go to in order to prove my loyalty to you.” You fight the urge to reach out to him, hoping that your words get through to him instead. You’re trying to be sincere, and he <i>has</i> to see that.
He stares at you with full scrutiny before slowly raising an eyebrow. “You’re referring to that tree in the garden and the dryad that’s connected to it. What do you have in mind?”
This is it - you have to offer him Maeve on a silver platter, and that’s enough to convince him.
“As a show of my devotion to you, I offer to capture her. She has unrightfully set foot in the castle, and it were her actions that caused all of this unrest between us. Something has to be done about her, and I volunteer to do it.”
“I offer my help, as well,” Vynn adds. “If that changes anything.”
Az’Lean looks intrigued, at the very least. “Tell me what you know about her.”
“Of course. I will spare no detail,” you’re eager to promise.
There’s a moment of silence as Az’Lean seems to think deeply. You notice the darkness in his eyes as he keeps looking at you - his gaze is almost too much to bear, but you remain steadfast and meet it head on. Is this how he will always look at you from now on? Or will you be able to find that softness again that he had shown you before?
“Let me put it this way, $playername. You’re on somewhat of a probation - on thin ice, in other words - but I will allow you to stay for now. However, I will keep a sharp eye on you and won’t tolerate any kind of suspicious behaviour.” He turns to Vynn. “From <i>either</i> of you.”
It does sound like it won’t be easy to win his full trust back, but the fact that he is letting you stay is already proof enough that you mean something to him, surely. It feels a bit like you each have a tight grip in the other’s heart - a most painful stalemate.
“I understand. That seems like a fair deal to me,” you say.
Vynn smiles wryly. “As if I’d ever do something <i>suspicious</i>.”
Some sort of understanding passes between Vynn and Az’Lean. Although you aren’t privy to their thoughts, it looks like they have reached some sort of truce - both willing to put their own personal feelings aside to better serve the kingdom. It sends a wave of relief through you. That is how they <i>should</i> be viewing it. After all, you share that perspective.
“There is one more condition,” Az’Lean says, slowly drawing out the words. “I am the only one who gets to decide when and how to best use your powers to aid the kingdom. I have come to the conclusion that I should view this as an opportunity.”
Az’Lean moves closer to you, watching you intently. His hand, clad in black steel, comes to rest softly against your cheek. It burns. You bear it.
“I’ll use you to the fullest, $playername.”
You’re not certain whether it’s a promise, or a threat - it makes you tense up in anticipation either way. The moment passes as quickly as it began and Az’Lean puts distance between you once more, his hand falling to his side.
Vynn makes no effort to hide their disdain for that display. They scoff loudly as they move up to stand next to you, shoulder to shoulder.
Az’Lean moves behind his desk and sits down, leaving the two of you to stand across from him. It suddenly feels like a much more official meeting.
“Now then, tell me what you know of this fae woman - and your supposed plans to apprehend her.”
You recount everything you know about Maeve and everything she has told you - including the plans the fae apparently had for you. Whenever you mention that she is a dryad, his face darkens. It was a dryad that killed his mother, though you know it wasn’t Maeve. She would have been a child at the time.
“Dryads are not to be underestimated,” Az’Lean says with a barely concealed growl. “As long as her grove exists, it’ll be impossible to capture her. She will be able to just move to a different tree than the one in the gardens.”
Vynn crosses their arms. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why is a dryad’s tree planted in the middle of the gardens in the first place?”
“That tree has been there for decades. I assume it was planted during a time when our conflict with the fae hadn’t escalated yet. Though leaving it until now has been a massive oversight.” Az’Lean pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Or worse yet, wilful sabotage.”
“If capturing Maeve won’t be possible, then I assume killing her will be just as impossible as long as she has other trees to fall back on,” you say. “The only thing we can do is cut down the tree, I reckon.”
Az’Lean nods. “I agree. I would also prefer to do it subtly, and not let anyone know why we’re doing it. We can easily make up an excuse about a spell gone wrong, or something along those lines. If it comes from me, no one will question it.”
“I suppose if we're just cutting down a tree, the three of us will be enough to handle it. No reason to inform anyone else of this,” Vynn says.
Az’Lean idly moves a few documents around on his desk as he thinks. “There certainly will be many missions where $playername’s ability will come in handy. The three of us will have to handle those by ourselves.”
“We do make a good team as it is,” you say.
“Wait. You actually plan on using $pronoun ability? That’s unexpected,” Vynn says with a frown, their eyes darkening.
Az’Lean meets their gaze head-on. “Well, I haven’t decided yet on how to use it, but it would be a waste to pretend it doesn’t exist.”
Vynn suddenly turns to you, a hand tightly gripping your shoulder. “And it doesn’t bother you, $playername? Having to change your appearance?”
You’re a bit taken aback by the ferocity of their concern. “I- I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Besides, my comfort matters little when it comes to protecting the kingdom. I would gladly give my life. You know that, Vynn.”
You know that your words aren’t comforting. You know they are not at all what they want to hear.
Vynn’s frown deepens and they turn back to Az’Lean.
“I thought the reason you didn’t want a Champion is because you hated the thought of someone dying for you.”
Az’Lean scoffs. “What can I say - seeing $pronoun devotion made me change my mind.”
The implication is obvious. Az’Lean no longer minds your sacrifice - because of what you are.
Vynn laughs - loud and bitter. “You’re a Gods damned bastard, you know that?”
“Vynn, it’s alright,” you say.
“It really isn’t, but I guess I should stay quiet.”
“I understand that you only have $playername’s best interests at heart,” Az’Lean is quick to say. “However, keep in mind that there is a limit to my mercy - of which I have already shown a considerable amount. It is only natural that we are… getting emotional, but it’s not productive right now. Let’s concentrate on dealing with that dryad.”
“So the plan is for us three to cut down that tree and sever any sort of connection Maeve has to the gardens,” you summarise, glad to get back on track. “When should we do it?”
Az’Lean thinks for a moment. “Let’s do it tonight. I’d prefer to do it when the gardens are mostly empty. If it’s just a few guards, I can send them away easily enough. But if there are gardeners and nobles milling about en masse, word will reach my father before we can take action. I’d rather apologise for cutting down a tree after it’s done than try to convince him to allow it without revealing the truth to him.”
“Sounds like we’ll be in for another sleepless night,” Vynn mutters. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be there.”
“Good. Then it’ll be up to us to make some preparations,” Az’Lean says. “$playername, you can start by getting some saws and axes.”
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> [["Understood."|Chapter7A4B]]
<<else>>
[[“Understood.”|Chapter7A4A]]<<endif>>\As you cross the castle on your way to retrieving the equipment you’ll need to fell Maeve’s tree, you use the moment of solitude to reflect on Az’Lean’s behaviour. It is clear that he’s mistrustful of you, and that his grudge against the fae colours the way he sees you now. Nevertheless, he has allowed you to stay and to continue being his Champion, and he’s willing to give you a chance to prove yourself.
It is clear that things are different now. There’s no warmth in his interactions with you, and there’s a constant sense of tension in the air. One wrong move and it’s over - you’re both keenly aware of that. This new state of affairs is soul crushing, on some level. Whatever easy camaraderie you’ve had before seems to have been firmly locked away.
The question that remains is: is this only temporary? Or is this how it’s always going to be from now on?
Do you dare hope? Do you dare long for Az’Lean to smile at you again?
A part of you figures that he simply needs time - to come to terms with what you are, to warm up to you again, to be able to see your loyalty once again.
Another part of you knows that things can get broken beyond repair.
In any case, you shouldn’t demand anything of Az’Lean. It is up to him to decide how he feels about you. The only thing you should worry about is proving yourself. Every word you say, every action you take must reflect your devotion. You mustn’t falter. You mustn’t hesitate. You must steel your heart. You must put the duty you have towards Az’Lean and Gaiapeia above any of your own personal feelings.
Before anything, you are the Champion. That is the role you must play.
Lost in your musings as you are, you almost miss Thianne heading towards you from across the corridor until she suddenly stands right in front of you.
“Hey, $playername, do you have a moment?” she asks while crossing her arms.
“Thianne. I was actually hoping to speak with you as well,” you say.
Now that you have told Az’Lean everything, she no longer has anything to hold over your head. It would be best to let her know immediately, before she does anything unnecessary.
Thianne looks up at you, waiting expectantly. There’s a glint of realisation in her eyes already, but she’s waiting for you to speak.
This corridor isn’t really the best place to do so, so you’ll have to keep it vague. You don’t doubt Thianne’s ability to understand you regardless.
“The matter we discussed two days ago - I have resolved it with Az’Lean. Feel free to confirm it with him,” you say.
“Then I gather he doesn’t mind you stickin’ around?”
“For the time being, everything stays the same,” you explain. “Though I’m not certain what the future holds in store for me.”
A hint of a smile appears on her lips. “I’m glad to hear it. Honestly, I’m surprised. Both by him and you, $playername. I didn’t think it would go like this, but I trust that Az’Lean knows what he’s doin’. I don’t think I need to remind you of the fact that I look out for him - <i>in my own way</i>.”
You get it. She’s telling you the same thing that Az’Lean himself said earlier: one suspicious move and that will be it for you. While the tension between you and Az’Lean has been palpable, Thianne looks as relaxed as ever. Whether that means she trusts you not to squander the opportunity Az’Lean has gifted you, or whether she doesn’t care that much all together is difficult to say.
As it stands, you can’t forget the fact that she gave you an ultimatum - responding to your vulnerability with such matter-of-fact rationality that it had felt almost cruel to you. It’s not that you necessarily fault her for it, but it has opened your eyes to one fact: Thianne cares about Az’Lean much more than she cares about you, at least right now. It’s maybe not surprising, but it stings nonetheless.
In any case, you hope you’ll be able to continue having an amicable relationship with Thianne, and that this doesn’t widen the distance between you.
“I understand,” you tell her. “I hope we can all adjust and then move past it.”
Thianne's smile brightens a bit. “I wouldn’t mind that. I’ll have a talk with Az’Lean, and then I’ll come see you. I’m sure there’s more you want to say, though now is neither the time nor place.”
“Right. What did you want to talk to me about, by the way?”
Thianne snorts. “It seems like such a trivial topic by comparison now, but I wanted to talk to you about the upcomin’ festival. In particular, whether you know which task Az’Lean will assign you when it comes to the preparations. But now I have to think that you probably had more important things to talk about.”
You can’t help but laugh. “That’s one way to put it. But no, we’ve been in a few meetings for the planning of everything, but I’m not sure yet what I’ll be helping set up.”
“Apparently, this year’s Summer Solstice will be an even bigger, more spectacular event than it usually is, which is great and all, but I just know I’ll get roped into settin’ up all of the magical components required for the performances and exhibits,” Thianne says with a grimace.
“At least we’ll have time to enjoy the festival once all the preparations are done. I feel bad for all the servants who are on food serving duty during that time,” you say, glad that it is so easy to talk to Thianne despite her knowing the truth. It seems that as long as you aren’t posing a threat, she doesn’t care about the fact that you are fae. It is interesting.
“I don’t usually <i>enjoy</i> festivals, I suffer through them. Too many people for my likin’. Though I am looking forward to seeing the divination rituals,” she says with a hint of a smile on her face. “But speaking of divination, I have something I need to be doin’ right now.”
“Me too, actually. Though let’s make sure to speak again soon. Don’t- don’t avoid me, alright?”
Thianne shrugs. “Listen, if I avoid you, it’s because I’m sick of interactin’ with people and not because of anything else, you got that?”
“I got it. Thanks, Thianne.”
The two of you part ways - a bit awkwardly maybe, but with warmth. It feels like one more burden has been lifted off your shoulders.
[[At this rate, you might be able to start breathing easy again.|Chapter7A6A]]
If you rushed in there and got in the way now, not only would you disrespect Az’Lean’s decision, you might ruin his entire plan. You have faith in Az’Lean - he likely has a plan, and you trust him to be aware of his own limitations. If he did need your help, he’d call for you or Vynn. No, better not to disturb him right now.
It turns out that there is nothing to worry about - you clearly have yet to see the full extent of Az’Lean’s capabilities. With nothing but a simple movement, he manages to completely freeze one of the wooden arms that was trying to grab him. It stops moving, frozen stiff. Curled around Az’Lean as it is, it shields him from the attacks of the other arms.
Now that you think about it, ice magic is particularly effective against organic matter such as this willow. You wonder whether Az’Lean would be able to freeze a person in a similar manner, if he really wanted to. It makes you reconsider the outcome of your battle during the Champion selection. That obviously hadn’t been a fight to the death, but if it had, you have no doubt that Az’Lean easily would have won.
Maybe it’s a good thing that you are sitting back and watching this. It’s not only important to know about Az’Lean’s capabilities, but also your own limitations.
While shielded from the willow’s attacks, Az’Lean wastes no time stabbing his sword into the weak spot he created, pushing it into the trunk as far as possible. A willow can’t scream, and yet its anguish is impossible to miss. Its arms and branches flail about, trying to grasp whatever they come in contact with - even tearing out its own leaves. The bark is cracking and splintering and slowly begins to flake off.
“Get back here,” Vynn shouts in warning as they shoot another arrow. Az’Lean sees the window of opportunity and manages to dash away from the raging tree, leaving his sword behind. Around its steel blade something like a wound has formed - the trunk is discoloured in an ugly purple and covered in a rot that’s slowly spreading.
“It’s working,” you say as Az’Lean arrives back at your side. “The steel is poisoning it.”
“We should just wait it out now,” Vynn adds. “Have you gotten hurt?”
Az’Lean wheezes in place of an answer, hands resting on his knees as he doubles over. “I’ll manage.”
“Looks like we’ll both need to see a healer after this,” you say.
It is a bit morbid, but the three of you watch in silence as the tree fights in vain against its end, slowly withering away before your very eyes. At some point it stops moving and returns to looking like a regular weeping willow. The glow that had surrounded it vanishes.
The moment it dies is obvious: a loud wail of sorrow echoes throughout the gardens. You recognise it as Maeve’s voice. The sound suddenly cuts off - a connection forever severed. The gardens are deadly quiet after that.
[[Only a few days later will you realise that there hasn’t been any birdsong ever since.|Chapter7A11A]]It doesn’t matter that you’re injured - if Az’Lean is in danger, it is your duty to be by his side, no matter what. There’s no time to even think about it. You know what you must do, and your body reacts accordingly.
You dash forward, ignoring the jolts of pain that run through your body with every step. It feels like you’re moving a bit slower than usual, but you can push through. First, you need to get closer, past the willow’s attacks. As long as you move perpendicular to the tree, you can keep it in your line of sight while slowly moving closer. All that’s left is to hope that Vynn will be willing to provide you support as well - they’ll need to create an opening for you to reach Az’Lean.
Unfortunately, the next arrow doesn’t come fast enough. A gnarled wooden arm is headed straight for you, and you’ll have to duck and roll in order to have any hope of dodging it. With your ribs the way they are, you don’t know what sort of damage a move like that could do. It doesn’t matter though, you have no choice.
Just as you are about to dive low, something wraps around your middle and pulls you backwards. The tree’s arm strikes the ground in front of you where you had just stood, destroying the stone path there and sending a pile of rubble your way.
“Shit,” you hear Vynn murmur next to you - they had been the one to pull you back. “That was too close.”
You twist around in their hold. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be providing cover for-”
The words die in your throat as you catch sight of blood. Your heart skips a beat as you survey the damage - a cut on Vynn’s face, dangerously close to their left eye, but thankfully not too deep. They must’ve gotten hit just now…
“Az’Lean’s handling it just fine,” they say, idly trying to wipe the blood away. “Look.”
It looks like you were worried for no reason - you clearly have yet to see the full extent of Az’Lean’s capabilities. With nothing but a simple movement, he manages to completely freeze one of the wooden arms that was trying to grab him. It stops moving, frozen stiff. Curled around Az’Lean as it is, it shields him from the attacks of the other arms.
Now that you think about it, ice magic is particularly effective against organic matter such as this willow. You wonder whether Az’Lean would be able to freeze a person in a similar manner, if he really wanted to. It makes you reconsider the outcome of your battle during the Champion selection. That obviously hadn’t been a fight to the death, but if it had, you have no doubt that Az’Lean easily would have won.
Maybe it’s a good thing that you are sitting back and watching this. It’s not only important to know about Az’Lean’s capabilities, but also your own limitations.
While shielded from the willow’s attacks, Az’Lean wastes no time stabbing his sword into the weak spot he created, pushing it into the trunk as far as possible. A willow can’t scream, and yet its anguish is impossible to miss. Its arms and branches flail about, trying to grasp whatever they come in contact with - even tearing out its own leaves. The bark is cracking and splintering and slowly begins to flake off.
Vynn lets go of you, raising their bow instead.
“Get back here,” Vynn shouts in warning as they shoot another arrow. Az’Lean sees the window of opportunity and manages to dash away from the raging tree, leaving his sword behind. Around its steel blade something like a wound has formed - the trunk is discoloured in an ugly purple and covered in a rot that’s slowly spreading.
“It’s working,” you say as Az’Lean arrives back at your side. “The steel is poisoning it.”
“We should just wait it out now,” Vynn adds. “Have you gotten hurt?”
Az’Lean wheezes in place of an answer, hands resting on his knees as he doubles over. “I’ll manage.”
“It looks like all three of us might need to see a healer,” you say, averting your eyes. “I’m sorry for acting recklessly.”
Vynn lays a hand on your shoulder. “It’s fine, I understand why you did it. Don’t dwell on it, $playername.”
“What’s done is done,” Az’Lean adds.
It is a bit morbid, but the three of you watch in silence as the tree fights in vain against its end, slowly withering away before your very eyes. At some point it stops moving and returns to looking like a regular weeping willow. The glow that had surrounded it vanishes.
The moment it dies is obvious: a loud wail of sorrow echoes throughout the gardens. You recognise it as Maeve’s voice. The sound suddenly cuts off - a connection forever severed. The gardens are deadly quiet after that.
[[Only a few days later will you realise that there hasn’t been any birdsong ever since.|Chapter7A11B]]If you rushed in there and got in the way now, not only would you disrespect Az’Lean’s decision, you might ruin his entire plan. You have faith in Az’Lean - surely he knows what he’s doing, and you trust him to be aware of his own limitations. He’ll call for you when it’s your turn. No, better not to disturb him right now.
It turns out that there is nothing to worry about - you clearly have yet to see the full extent of Az’Lean’s capabilities. With nothing but a simple movement, he manages to completely freeze one of the wooden arms that was trying to grab him. It stops moving, frozen stiff. Curled around Az’Lean as it is, it shields him from the attacks of the other arms.
Now that you think about it, ice magic is particularly effective against organic matter such as this willow. You wonder whether Az’Lean would be able to freeze a person in a similar manner, if he really wanted to. It makes you reconsider the outcome of your battle during the Champion selection. That obviously hadn’t been a fight to the death, but if it had, you have no doubt that Az’Lean easily would have won.
Maybe it’s a good thing that you are sitting back and watching this. It’s not only important to know about Az’Lean’s capabilities, but also your own limitations.
“$playername, now!” Az’Lean has created an opening and carved a weak spot - now it’s your turn to finish this.
While shielded from the willow’s attacks, you securely grab the blood steel sword with both hands and dash forward. You cross the distance in no time, the tip of the sword already aligned with the gap in the bark. Using the momentum from your sprint and putting all of your strength behind this one stab, you pierce the sword’s tip into the trunk, pushing it as far inside as possible. A willow can’t scream, and yet its anguish is impossible to miss. Its arms and branches flail about, trying to grasp whatever they come in contact with - even tearing out its own leaves. The bark is cracking and splintering and slowly begins to flake off.
“Get back here, both of you,” Vynn shouts in warning as they shoot another arrow. You notice the window of opportunity and manage to dash away from the raging tree, leaving Az’Lean’s sword behind. Around its steel blade something like a wound has formed - the trunk is discoloured in an ugly purple and covered in a rot that’s slowly spreading.
Az’Lean freezes yet another branch, covering your retreat.
“It’s working,” you say as the two of you hurry back to Vynn’s side. “The steel is poisoning it.”
“We should just wait it out now,” Vynn adds, looking the two of you over. “Have you gotten hurt?”
Az’Lean wheezes in place of an answer, hands resting on his knees as he doubles over. “I’ll manage.”
“Looks like you might need to see a healer after this,” you say. “No reason not to.”
Az’Lean simply nods.
It is a bit morbid, but the three of you watch in silence as the tree fights in vain against its end, slowly withering away before your very eyes. At some point it stops moving and returns to looking like a regular weeping willow. The glow that had surrounded it vanishes.
The moment it dies is obvious: a loud wail of sorrow echoes throughout the gardens. You recognise it as Maeve’s voice. The sound suddenly cuts off - a connection forever severed. The gardens are deadly quiet after that.
[[Only a few days later will you realise that there hasn’t been any birdsong ever since.|Chapter7A11C]]There simply isn’t enough time to wait for Az’Lean’s explicit instructions. One wrong move could mean his death, and there is no way that you could ever take that chance. No, you have to get in there, now.
Without hesitation you dash forward, visualising the best route to take so as not to get hit by any branches. You count on Vynn to keep backing you up with their arrows - all that’s left is to use the opening that Az’Lean has created to deliver the final strike.
However, it seems that you misread the situation. Az’Lean doesn’t seem ready to fall back yet - clearly you have yet to see the full extent of Az’Lean’s capabilities. With nothing but a simple movement, he manages to completely freeze one of the wooden arms that was trying to grab him. It stops moving, frozen stiff. Curled around Az’Lean as it is, it shields him from the attacks of the other arms.
Unfortunately, now that they can’t get to him anymore, they quickly zero in on you as their only other target.
“$playername, get out of the way!” Az’Lean bellows, sending a wave of frost after the other arms.
Now that you think about it, ice magic is particularly effective against organic matter such as this willow. You wonder whether Az’Lean would be able to freeze a person in a similar manner, if he really wanted to. It makes you reconsider the outcome of your battle during the Champion selection. That obviously hadn’t been a fight to the death, but if it had, you have no doubt that Az’Lean easily would have won.
Az’Lean’s ice magic might be powerful, but it’s limited, and one of the tree’s arms manages to avoid being hit, lashing out at you instead. You dodge to the side, but the ground is frozen and slippery, and you lose your footing. While you manage to stay upright, you can’t react - something hits you squarely in the chest, sending you stumbling backwards. The pain is intense and disorienting, but you can keep going.
You see the weak spot that Az’Lean has carved into the bark, you just have to go for it and hope that Az’Lean and Vynn will have your back. It’s your turn to finish this.
“$playername, now!” Az’Lean manages to freeze another arm, creating a split second opening for you to move in closer.
While shielded from the willow’s attacks, you securely grab the blood steel sword with both hands and dash forward. You cross the distance in no time, the tip of the sword already aligned with the gap in the bark.
Using the momentum from your sprint and putting all of your strength behind this one stab, you pierce the sword’s tip into the trunk, pushing it as far inside as possible. A willow can’t scream, and yet its anguish is impossible to miss. Its arms and branches flail about, trying to grasp whatever they come in contact with - even tearing out its own leaves. The bark is cracking and splintering and slowly begins to flake off.
“Get back here, both of you,” Vynn shouts in warning as they shoot another arrow. You notice the window of opportunity and manage to dash away from the raging tree, leaving Az’Lean’s sword behind. Around its steel blade something like a wound has formed - the trunk is discoloured in an ugly purple and covered in a rot that’s slowly spreading.
Az’Lean freezes yet another branch, covering your retreat.
“It’s working,” you say as the two of you hurry back to Vynn’s side. “The steel is poisoning it.”
“We should just wait it out now,” Vynn adds, looking the two of you over. “Have you gotten hurt?”
Az’Lean wheezes in place of an answer, hands resting on his knees as he doubles over. “I’ll manage.”
“Looks like we both might need to see a healer after this,” you say.
Az’Lean simply nods.
It is a bit morbid, but the three of you watch in silence as the tree fights in vain against its end, slowly withering away before your very eyes. At some point it stops moving and returns to looking like a regular weeping willow. The glow that had surrounded it vanishes.
The moment it dies is obvious: a loud wail of sorrow echoes throughout the gardens. You recognise it as Maeve’s voice. The sound suddenly cuts off - a connection forever severed. The gardens are deadly quiet after that.
[[Only a few days later will you realise that there hasn’t been any birdsong ever since.|Chapter7A11D]]“It’s dead, finally,” Az’Lean says. “It looks like we don’t have to chop it down ourselves anymore. I’ll just tell the gardeners to get rid of it.”
The three of you stay alert as you move closer to the willow to retrieve Az’Lean’s sword. It remains still, even as Vynn pulls out the sword with great effort. A strange, silvery substance clings to it, and they wipe it off with a confused expression before handing it back to the prince.
“I wonder if it could always have come alive like this. The amount of danger everyone who set foot in this garden had been in all this time… It’s a good thing we got rid of it,” you say.
“We really did not know what we were getting into, however,” Vynn admonishes as they look you and Az’Lean over. “You’re both needlessly reckless. We could have easily gone and gotten back-up.”
Az’Lean snorts. “If we couldn’t even handle this much, then what is the point of anything?”
But you specifically <i>weren’t</i> able to handle this much. <i>It’s your job to protect Az’Lean, not stand around and watch him get hurt as well. </i>“I’m sorry for not being of any help in this fight."
“I know you didn’t get hurt on purpose, $playername. It was an unfortunate turn of events, but you were the one warning me of this tree. I will give you credit for that,” Az’Lean says, avoiding your gaze. “However, I’ll need you to do better next time.”
It seems you have yet more to prove to him - not that you expected this to be enough. “Yes, of course.”
Just as the three of you are about to pack up and head out to see a healer, a large group of people floods into the gardens all at once. You can see guards, knights - and King Az’Marn in the midst of them.
“Would you mind telling me what’s going on here, Az’Lean?” The king is dressed in all black as he usually is, a tired frown on his face. “Don’t tell me you caused all of this destruction.”
The gashes in the ground, the torn up stone path and the crushed rose bushes do make for quite the sight, combined with the partially burned, partially rotted willow sitting like a corpse in the centre of all of it. Someone must have alerted the king, and he does not look too pleased by all this.
“That blasted willow was bonded to a dryad, we took it upon ourselves to destroy it, and it decided to fight back,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly. “We neutralised the threat successfully.”
King Az’Marn’s frown deepens. “And you didn’t think to run this by me?”
“I saw no reason to. Taking it into my own hands seemed the more efficient course of action to me. You have a tendency to overthink and overprepare, father.”
“So it was a deliberate decision to ignore the chain of command.”
“Would you rather I idle about, allowing another dryad to enter the castle?”
Az’Marn’s face falls at Az’Lean’s words. Grief is etched deeply into the lines of his face.
“I didn’t think so.”
It is as if all life has left the king. “No, no, you’re right Az’Lean. It’s better like this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll report this to the council.”
King Az’Marn turns around without another word, black robes trailing behind him as he retreats back into the castle. A few knights and guards stay behind to help with the clean-up, while the rest follow him.
Vynn watches him leave, then turns to Az’Lean. “So what, do you run the place now?”
“Even after all these years, father is still grieving. When it comes to mother’s death, he is unable to think clearly, much less act. The fact that we are dealing with a dryad - it’s too much to handle for him,” Az’Lean says with a poorly hidden sneer. He doesn’t need to say it - it’s clear that he considers his father somewhat of a coward.
Still, it’s also clear that Az’Lean isn’t entirely unaffected himself.
“We can rest a little easier for now, though I’ve no doubt Maeve will find some way to retaliate for this,” you say. “We ought to be ready for anything.”
“That goes without saying, $playername. We won’t be able to do much in the state we’re in, however. Let’s go get patched up, shall we? Vynn, I’ll leave you in charge of returning all these axes and saws and letting the gardeners know to dispose of the tree’s remains.”
“Fine, but only because the two of you look like you’re about ready to pass out. Do take care of yourselves,” Vynn says before waving you away dismissively.
Az’Lean and you slowly make your way inside the castle and towards the infirmary. Every step sends jolts of pain through your chest and back, and every once in a while you find yourself short of breath. Az’Lean seems to be faring a little better, but he can’t hide the slight limp in his left leg from you.
The two of you stay silent as you walk, but whenever you occasionally stumble, Az’Lean’s hand is immediately there to steady you. That is all the reassurance you need right now that he hasn’t given up on you, and that things between you will return to normal soon enough.
[[All he needs is a little more time, you’re sure of it.|Chapter7A12A]]!!!Year 929, 1st of the Midday Moon
It's three days later when Thianne finally shows up at the door to your room early in the morning, clearly wanting to talk about something. You suspect that you know what this is about and discreetly invite her inside. Thianne shuffles through the door, lets her gaze wander across your room, and slowly takes a seat.
“This room isn’t soundproof, is it? Let’s speak quietly,” she says as you close the door and join her.
“I assume Az’Lean talked to you?” you venture a guess.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
Thianne nods. “He approached me last night and got me up to speed. I can’t believe you actually told him, and that he decided against annihilatin’ you. Congrats.”
Her tone is somewhat flippant and you’re having trouble reading her expression.
“I am very grateful to him,” you settle on saying, “and to you, for giving me the time to tell him myself.”
“No reason to be grateful to me for it. I didn’t do it to be kind, really. I simply suspected there was a much higher chance of him acceptin’ you if you were brave enough to come clean yourself.”
You can’t help but smile. “So you <i>did</i> want him to accept me.”
She blinks at you. “Naturally. You are very capable when it comes to your duty as Champion, and being a changeling comes with its own set of perks. I have no personal vendetta against the fae, so you being my ally is a good thing. I worry about Az’Lean gettin’ betrayed, of course, but I don’t think you’re more likely to betray him just because you’re fae.”
Huh. You didn’t think Thianne would have that much faith in you. Or maybe it is the case that she doesn’t have much faith in anyone, and so in that regard you're nothing special. Either way, it seems there won’t be any problems with her as long as you continue to prove your loyalty.
“I appreciate how level-headed you always are, Thianne. Not that I’m saying any other reaction would have been irrational, but… You know what I mean.”
Thianne cracks a tiny smile for the first time all day. “Nah, I was flippin’ out internally when you first told me. I’m just good at keeping myself in check. Though from the sounds of it, Az’Lean didn’t take it quite as calmly. I’m not sayin’ he’ll ever get over it completely, but I’m sure with time he’ll ease off.”
<<else>>
Thianne nods. “He approached me last night and told me some outrageous story about you being a changeling, but, well, he’s not the type to lie. So… You’re a changeling?”
Her tone is somewhat flippant and you’re having trouble reading her expression.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“And you didn’t know about it?”
“Also correct.”
“Huh. What an interestin’ turn of events. I’m going to be honest, I have a hard time figurin’ out whether to trust you or not. For now, I guess I’ll just go along with whatever Az’Lean decides and see for myself.” She squints at you, as if trying to figure something out. “Fascinatin’. Say, would you be open to conducting some experiments?”
You’re getting a bit of whiplash. “You… don’t mind me being fae?”
She blinks at you. “You are very capable when it comes to your duty as Champion, and being a changeling comes with its own set of perks. I have no personal vendetta against the fae, so you being my ally is a good thing. I worry about Az’Lean gettin’ betrayed, of course, but I don’t think you’re more likely to betray him just because you’re fae.”
Huh. You didn’t think Thianne would have that much faith in you. Or maybe it is the case that she doesn’t have much faith in anyone, and so in that regard you're nothing special. Either way, it seems there won’t be any problems with her as long as you continue to prove your loyalty.
“I appreciate how level-headed you always are, Thianne. Not that I’m saying any other reaction would have been irrational, but… You know what I mean.”
Thianne cracks a tiny smile. “Nah, believe me, I am freaking out internally. I’m just good at keeping myself in check. Though from the sounds of it, Az’Lean didn’t take it quite as calmly. I’m not sayin’ he’ll ever get over it completely, but I’m sure with time he’ll ease off.”
<<endif>>\
“I’m just glad that there are people who know now. You, Az’Lean, and Vynn. I feel like we’re starting to form a real squad.”
Thianne snorts. “Don’t say it like that. That sounds stupid. I heard the three of you were apparently the ones that took down that tree. What was that all about?”
You spend some time filling Thianne in on the things she still doesn’t know about. As you do so, something suddenly comes to you.
You abruptly stand up. “I need to tell Az’Lean about the Wild Hunt still. How could I forget that?”
“Forgetfulness is a pretty normal stress response. Or maybe you’re just a mess, I don’t know. We can go take this conversation to his room in a minute, though there is one more thing I wanted to ask you while we’re alone.” Thianne’s amber eyes are strangely guarded and you can’t help but feel on edge.
“Ask away.”
“Are you okay?”
For a second you think you misheard. Is she asking you how you’re feeling?
“Am I okay?” you echo her question but Thianne just nods.
Are you okay?
[[No. You feel terrible and this is all too much.|Chapter7A13A]]
[[Maybe? You don’t even know what you’re feeling.|Chapter7A13B]]
[[You’re hanging in there. These are tough times for you, but you can get through them.|Chapter7A13C]]
[[Yes. Despite everything, you’ve been able to stay strong.|Chapter7A13D]]
[[Of course you’re fine. Why wouldn’t you be?|Chapter7A13E]]
“It’s dead, finally,” Az’Lean says. “It looks like we don’t have to chop it down ourselves anymore. I’ll just tell the gardeners to get rid of it.”
The three of you stay alert as you move closer to the willow to retrieve Az’Lean’s sword. It remains still, even as the prince pulls out the sword with great effort. A strange, silvery substance clings to it, and he wipes it off with a disgusted expression.
“I wonder if it could always have come alive like this. The amount of danger everyone who sets foot in this garden has been in all this time… It’s a good thing we got rid of it,” you say.
“We really did not know what we were getting into, however,” Vynn admonishes as they look you and Az'Lean over. “You’re both needlessly reckless. We could have easily gone and gotten back-up.”
Az’Lean snorts. “If we couldn’t even handle this much, then what is the point of anything?”
But you specifically <i>weren’t</i> able to handle this much. <i>It’s your job to protect Az’Lean, and you weren't able to do that. You got Vynn hurt as well. </i>“I’m sorry for not being of any help in this fight.
“I know you didn’t get hurt on purpose, $playername. It was an unfortunate turn of events, but you were the one warning me of this tree. I will give you credit for that,” Az’Lean says, avoiding your gaze. “However, I’ll need you to do better next time.”
It seems you have yet more to prove to him - not that you expected this to be enough. “Yes, of course.”
Just as the three of you are about to pack up and head out to see a healer, a large group of people floods into the gardens all at once. You can see guards, knights - and King Az’Marn in the midst of them.
“Would you mind telling me what’s going on here, Az’Lean?” The king is dressed in all black as he usually is, a tired frown on his face. “Don’t tell me you caused all of this destruction.”
The gashes in the ground, the torn up stone path and the crushed rose bushes do make for quite the sight, combined with the partially burned, partially rotted willow sitting like a corpse in the centre of all of it. Someone must have alerted the king, and he does not look too pleased by all this.
“That blasted willow was bonded to a dryad, we took it upon ourselves to destroy it, and it decided to fight back,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly. “We neutralised the threat successfully.”
King Az’Marn’s frown deepens. “And you didn’t think to run this by me?”
“I saw no reason to. Taking it into my own hands seemed the more efficient course of action to me. You have a tendency to overthink and over prepare, father.”
“So it was a deliberate decision to ignore the chain of command.”
“Would you rather I idle about, allowing another dryad to enter the castle?”
Az’Marn’s face falls at Az’Lean’s words. Grief is etched deeply into the lines of his face.
“I didn’t think so.”
It is as if all life has left the king. “No, no, you’re right Az’Lean. It’s better like this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll report this to the council.”
King Az’Marn turns around without another word, black robes trailing behind him as he retreats back into the castle. A few knights and guards stay behind to help with the clean-up, while the rest follow him.
Vynn watches him leave, then turns to Az’Lean. “So what, do you run the place now?”
“Even after all these years, father is still grieving. When it comes to mother’s death, he is unable to think clearly, much less act. The fact that we are dealing with a dryad - it’s too much to handle for him,” Az’Lean says with a poorly hidden sneer. He doesn’t need to say it - it’s clear that he considers his father somewhat of a coward.
Still, it’s also clear that Az’Lean isn’t entirely unaffected himself.
“We can rest a little easier for now, though I’ve no doubt Maeve will find some way to retaliate for this,” you say. “We ought to be ready for anything.”
“That goes without saying, $playername. We won’t be able to do much in the state we’re in, however. You two go on ahead - I'll make sure the axes and saws are put away and the gardneeres are instructed to dispose of the tree’s remains.”
“Fine, but you better get checked out as well, Az'Lean,” Vynn says.
"You got hit a few times, that must have done some damage," you add.
The prince waves the two of you away dismissively, but his expression has softened quite a bit. "Yes, yes, now get going."
Vynn and you slowly make your way inside the castle and towards the infirmary. Every step sends jolts of pain through your chest and back, and every once in a while you find yourself short of breath. Vynn seems to be faring a little better, but they still loudly complain about the cut on their face.
You stay quiet as you walk, lost in your own ruminations. Despite how this turned out, you do believe that Az'Lean hasn't given up on you, and that things between you will return to normal soon enough.
[[All he needs is a little more time, you’re sure of it.|Chapter7A12A]]“It’s dead, finally,” Az’Lean says. “It looks like we don’t have to chop it down ourselves anymore. I’ll just tell the gardeners to get rid of it.”
The three of you stay alert as you move closer to the willow to retrieve Az’Lean’s sword. It remains still, even as Vynn pulls out the sword with great effort. A strange, silvery substance clings to it, and they wipe it off with a confused expression before handing it back to the prince.
“I wonder if it could always have come alive like this. The amount of danger everyone who sets foot in this garden has been in all this time… It’s a good thing we got rid of it,” you say.
“We really did not know what we were getting into, however,” Vynn admonishes as they look you and Az’Lean over. “You’re both needlessly reckless. We could have easily gone and gotten back-up.”
Az’Lean snorts. “If we couldn’t even handle this much, then what is the point of anything?”
"I agree," you say. "After all, I promised I'd do whatever necessary in order to prove my loyalty. But in the end, it's also my worth as Champion I need to prove. Handling something like this shouldn't be a big deal."
“I appreciate you following my orders precisely, $playername. It was your caution that alerted us in the first place, and you dealt I formidable final blow. You deserve credit for that,” Az’Lean says, avoiding your gaze. “However, I'll still need to see more from you. I still need time.
It seems you have yet more to prove to him - not that you expected this to be enough. “Yes, of course.”
Just as the three of you are about to pack up and head out to see a healer, a large group of people floods into the gardens all at once. You can see guards, knights - and King Az’Marn in the midst of them.
“Would you mind telling me what’s going on here, Az’Lean?” The king is dressed in all black as he usually is, a tired frown on his face. “Don’t tell me you caused all of this destruction.”
The gashes in the ground, the torn up stone path and the crushed rose bushes do make for quite the sight, combined with the partially burned, partially rotted willow sitting like a corpse in the centre of all of it. Someone must have alerted the king, and he does not look too pleased by all this.
“That blasted willow was bonded to a dryad, we took it upon ourselves to destroy it, and it decided to fight back,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly. “We neutralised the threat successfully.”
King Az’Marn’s frown deepens. “And you didn’t think to run this by me?”
“I saw no reason to. Taking it into my own hands seemed the more efficient course of action to me. You have a tendency to overthink and over prepare, father.”
“So it was a deliberate decision to ignore the chain of command.”
“Would you rather I idle about, allowing another dryad to enter the castle?”
Az’Marn’s face falls at Az’Lean’s words. Grief is etched deeply into the lines of his face.
“I didn’t think so.”
It is as if all life has left the king. “No, no, you’re right Az’Lean. It’s better like this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll report this to the council.”
King Az’Marn turns around without another word, black robes trailing behind him as he retreats back into the castle. A few knights and guards stay behind to help with the clean-up, while the rest follow him.
Vynn watches him leave, then turns to Az’Lean. “So what, do you run the place now?”
“Even after all these years, father is still grieving. When it comes to mother’s death, he is unable to think clearly, much less act. The fact that we are dealing with a dryad - it’s too much to handle for him,” Az’Lean says with a poorly hidden sneer. He doesn’t need to say it - it’s clear that he considers his father somewhat of a coward.
Still, it’s also clear that Az’Lean isn’t entirely unaffected himself.
“We can rest a little easier for now, though I’ve no doubt Maeve will find some way to retaliate for this,” you say. “We ought to be ready for anything.”
“That goes without saying, $playername. We won’t be able to do much with the state I'm in, however. Let’s go see a healer, shall we? Vynn, I’ll leave you in charge of returning all these axes and saws and letting the gardeners know to dispose of the tree’s remains.”
“Fine, but only because you look like you’re about ready to pass out. Do take care of yourselves,” Vynn says before waving you away dismissively.
Az’Lean and you slowly make your way inside the castle and towards the infirmary. It doesn't seem like Az'Lean's condition is too bad, but he might very well be hiding the extent of his pain from you. It seems like the type of thing he'd be very adept at.
The two of you stay silent as you walk, but it's already less tense than it had been this morning. That is all the reassurance you need right now that he hasn’t given up on you, and things between you will return to normal soon enough.
[[All he needs is a little more time, you’re sure of it.|Chapter7A12A]]“It’s dead, finally,” Az’Lean says. “It looks like we don’t have to chop it down ourselves anymore. I’ll just tell the gardeners to get rid of it.”
The three of you stay alert as you move closer to the willow to retrieve Az’Lean’s sword. It remains still, even as Vynn pulls out the sword with great effort. A strange, silvery substance clings to it, and they wipe it off with a confused expression before handing it back to the prince.
“I wonder if it could always have come alive like this. The amount of danger everyone who sets foot in this garden has been in all this time… It’s a good thing we got rid of it,” you say.
“We really did not know what we were getting into, however,” Vynn admonishes as they look you and Az’Lean over. “You’re both needlessly reckless. We could have easily gone and gotten back-up.”
Az’Lean snorts. “If we couldn’t even handle this much, then what is the point of anything?”
<i>But you nearly did not handle this. One wrong move, and it would have been over, just like that.</i>
“I’m sorry for getting ahead of myself at the end there," you say. "I realise now that I was acting rash."
“I know you weren't trying to get in my way, $playername. It was an unfortunate turn of events, but you were the one warning me of this tree and you did deliver a formidable final strike. I will give you credit for that,” Az’Lean says, avoiding your gaze. “However, I’ll need you to do better next time.”
It seems you have yet more to prove to him - not that you expected this to be enough. “Yes, of course.”
Just as the three of you are about to pack up and head out to see a healer, a large group of people floods into the gardens all at once. You can see guards, knights - and King Az’Marn in the midst of them.
“Would you mind telling me what’s going on here, Az’Lean?” The king is dressed in all black as he usually is, a tired frown on his face. “Don’t tell me you caused all of this destruction.”
The gashes in the ground, the torn up stone path and the crushed rose bushes do make for quite the sight, combined with the partially burned, partially rotted willow sitting like a corpse in the centre of all of it. Someone must have alerted the king, and he does not look too pleased by all this.
“That blasted willow was bonded to a dryad, we took it upon ourselves to destroy it, and it decided to fight back,” Az’Lean explains matter-of-factly. “We neutralised the threat successfully.”
King Az’Marn’s frown deepens. “And you didn’t think to run this by me?”
“I saw no reason to. Taking it into my own hands seemed the more efficient course of action to me. You have a tendency to overthink and over prepare, father.”
“So it was a deliberate decision to ignore the chain of command.”
“Would you rather I idle about, allowing another dryad to enter the castle?”
Az’Marn’s face falls at Az’Lean’s words. Grief is etched deeply into the lines of his face.
“I didn’t think so.”
It is as if all life has left the king. “No, no, you’re right Az’Lean. It’s better like this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll report this to the council.”
King Az’Marn turns around without another word, black robes trailing behind him as he retreats back into the castle. A few knights and guards stay behind to help with the clean-up, while the rest follow him.
Vynn watches him leave, then turns to Az’Lean. “So what, do you run the place now?”
“Even after all these years, father is still grieving. When it comes to mother’s death, he is unable to think clearly, much less act. The fact that we are dealing with a dryad - it’s too much to handle for him,” Az’Lean says with a poorly hidden sneer. He doesn’t need to say it - it’s clear that he considers his father somewhat of a coward.
Still, it’s also clear that Az’Lean isn’t entirely unaffected himself.
“We can rest a little easier for now, though I’ve no doubt Maeve will find some way to retaliate for this,” you say. “We ought to be ready for anything.”
“That goes without saying, $playername. We won’t be able to do much in the state we’re in, however. Let’s go get patched up, shall we? Vynn, I’ll leave you in charge of returning all these axes and saws and letting the gardeners know to dispose of the tree’s remains.”
“Fine, but only because the two of you look like you’re about ready to pass out. Do take care of yourselves,” Vynn says before waving you away dismissively.
Az’Lean and you slowly make your way inside the castle and towards the infirmary. Every step sends jolts of pain through your chest, and every once in a while you find yourself short of breath. Az’Lean seems to be faring a little better, but he can’t hide the slight limp in his left leg from you.
The two of you stay silent as you walk, but whenever you occasionally stumble, Az’Lean’s hand is immediately there to steady you. That is all the reassurance you need right now that he hasn’t given up on you, and things between you will return to normal soon enough.
[[All he needs is a little more time, you’re sure of it.|Chapter7A12A]]Vynn looks thoughtful for a moment. “With Thianne’s metaphorical sword hanging over our heads, we might not actually have the luxury of playing this safe. Also, we need to watch what we say. You’ve said the name of your new friend at least twice in the past minute.”
Shit, they’re right. Az’Lean’s room is right next door, and there’s many ways someone could be trying to listen in on you. “Right, good thinking. You’re saying I should <i>do some gardening</i> tonight?”
Vynn catches on immediately. “At the very least, you should see if the conditions are right for it. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance. Have you thought about that one guy, Lester, maybe giving us a hand? I feel like he might be the type of person to have an interest in <i>botany</i>.”
“Perhaps, but I have to be careful who I trust with this. Raising flowers is a delicate process. As long as there is a certain Thi- <i>Thistle</i> plaguing me, I think we should lay low,” you say.
“Pesky things, those thistles. Maybe being in the garden will give you some idea as to how to get rid of them. I guess I’ll see if I can get some favourable patrol routes this week. It’s been getting warm lately, so I wouldn’t mind being outside at night.”
“I wish you good luck with getting the patrols you want. Anything else?”
Vynn shakes their head. “Let’s change the topic for now.”
“Have you been assigned some kind of job for the Summer Solstice Festival?” you ask them, signalling that the serious talk is officially over. “Az’Lean’s already running me ragged with preparations.”
“I’ve volunteered to help set up the stage. Might give me some extra time to practise on it,” Vynn says with a bright smile.
“You’re going to perform? On which day?”
“Sunday afternoon. That’s your day off, right? Make sure to come see me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to catch your performance. I doubt I’ll be glued to Az’Lean’s side the entire time. Even then, I’ll just have to drag him with me.”
The two of you keep talking for a while about random topics, simply enjoying a quiet morning together. After promising to speak again soon, you and Vynn part ways, returning to a state of normality. As you meet up with Az’Lean and accompany him on his daily duties, you can’t help but feel like you’re lying to him with every word you say, even though you haven’t done anything yet to deceive him other than lie by omission. You don’t even want to imagine how he’d react if he suddenly found out the truth. If he knew you were a changeling, you’re certain your days would be numbered. No, he cannot find out. No matter what.
The day passes by mostly uneventfully. You spend the majority of it planning the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival, discussing security measures and all manner of logistics. It sounds like this year’s festival is going to be especially packed.
When you part ways with Az’Lean after dinner and return to your room, you wonder whether you really should try going out to the castle gardens to contact Maeve. Since you didn’t get to talk to her yesterday, there’s a good chance she might be waiting to hear from you. On the other hand, you still have some sleep to catch up on.
While you think about what you should do, you come across the note that the Dullahan, Cillian, had given you before. He did write that you would meet soon - but how was he going to achieve that? There’s no way the Wild Hunt would try to breach the castle, right? Maybe Vynn is right and you don’t have any time to waste. With everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, it seems that there’s no telling what’s going to happen next.
No time like the present.
[[You shove the note into your pocket and exit your room.|Chapter7B4]]You and Vynn part ways, both of you returning to a state of normality. As you meet up with Az’Lean and accompany him on his daily duties, you can’t help but feel like you’re lying to him with every word you say, even though you haven’t done anything yet to deceive him other than lie by omission. You don’t even want to imagine how he’d react if he suddenly found out the truth. If he knew you were a changeling, you’re certain your days would be numbered. No, he cannot find out. No matter what.
The day passes by mostly uneventfully. You spend the majority of it planning the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival, discussing security measures and all manner of logistics. It sounds like this year’s festival is going to be especially packed.
When you part ways with Az’Lean after dinner and return to your room, you’re surprised to find Lester already waiting for you inside, sitting at the edge of your bed. The door was still locked, so you wonder whether he got in through the window or whether he picked the lock open, entered, and then picked it closed again for whatever reason.
Before you get any chance to ask him about it, you have to dodge the pillow he throws at your face. It lands harmlessly on the ground behind you.
“Your room is pretty boring,” he says by way of greeting. “There’s nothing even to snoop through.”
You close the door behind you with a snort. “What did you expect? It’s not even been a month since I moved in, it’s not like I had a lot of chances to decorate it.”
“I guess I expected the walls to be covered in ceremonial weapons or something. I don’t know, that’s just how I imagine a knight to live.”
You bend down to pick up the pillow. “Well, sorry to disappoint. How did you get in here, by the way?”
Lester grins and pulls a pair of thin needles out of the inside of his vest. “It’s not a very secure lock. Maybe you should get some magical protections in place, just in case.”
So he picked it. Although you should probably be mad about that, it is impressive more than anything. Being able to open locks like that seems like a useful skill to have and you wonder whether Lester would be able to teach you how to do it, though that is a conversation for another time.
“So, I heard you wanted to talk to me? I assume it’s about the thing you told me about the other day,” he says. His tone is a little unsure, as if he’s concerned someone might be listening in on you.
It’s smart to be cautious, you agree.
You take a seat next to him. Your expression must have given away that this is serious, and Lester immediately gives you his full attention.
“That’s exactly what this is about. Yesterday, I went and talked to my parents about it, just to get some closure. They didn't know about it, but they did suspect something was up with me, so in the end they were able to accept it easily enough. Vynn found out by themselves, though they aren’t bothered by it either. That being said, Vynn urged me to think about what’s next. If I haven’t thought about what to do by the time this conflict fully escalates, well, it might end badly for me.”
Lester tilts his head. “So have you decided on something?”
[[“I have, and I want to ask you whether you would like to get involved.”|Chapter7B2C]]
[[“I have, but I don’t think I should involve you in this.”|Chapter7B2D]]Vynn looks thoughtful for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea. I guess I’ll see if I can get some favourable patrol routes this week. It’s been getting warm lately, so I wouldn’t mind being outside at night. Also, we need to watch what we say. You’ve said the name of your new friend at least twice in the past minute.”
Shit, they’re right. Az’Lean’s room is right next door, and there’s many ways someone could be trying to listen in on you. “Right, good thinking. Then, let’s figure out if we can <i>do some gardening</i> tonight.”
Vynn catches on immediately. “At the very least, you should see if the conditions are right for it. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance. Have you thought about that one guy, Lester, maybe giving us a hand? I feel like he might be the type of person to have an interest in <i>botany</i>.”
“Perhaps, but I have to be careful who I trust with this. Raising flowers is a delicate process. No matter what we do, I think we should lay low until I’ve had a chance to, um, check on the progress,” you say.
“Sure thing, $playername. It’s important to see where you’re at, make sure there’s no weeds getting in the way.” Vynn shrugs helplessly. It seems like they don’t know where they were going with that metaphor either.
“I wish you good luck with getting the patrols you want. Anything else?”
Vynn shakes their head. “Let’s change the topic for now.”
“Have you been assigned some kind of job for the Summer Solstice Festival?” you ask them, signalling that the serious talk is officially over. “Az’Lean’s already running me ragged with preparations.”
“I’ve volunteered to help set up the stage. Might give me some extra time to practise on it,” Vynn says with a bright smile.
“You’re going to perform? On which day?”
“Sunday afternoon. That’s your day off, right? Make sure to come see me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to catch your performance. I doubt I’ll be glued to Az’Lean’s side the entire time. Even then, I’ll just have to drag him with me.”
The two of you keep talking for a while about random topics, simply enjoying a quiet morning together. After promising to speak again soon, you and Vynn part ways, returning to a state of normality.
As you meet up with Az’Lean and accompany him on his daily duties, you can’t help but feel like you’re lying to him with every word you say, even though you haven’t done anything yet to deceive him other than lie by omission. You don’t even want to imagine how he’d react if he suddenly found out the truth. If he knew you were a changeling, you’re certain your days would be numbered. No, he cannot find out. No matter what.
The day passes by mostly uneventfully. You spend the majority of it planning the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival, discussing security measures and all manner of logistics.
[[It sounds like this year’s festival is going to be especially eventful.|Chapter7B2E]]
<<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
He doesn’t seem particularly surprised to hear that. “Go on.”
You take a moment to think about how you are going to word this - it wouldn’t do to speak words of treachery out loud while within the castle, even in your own room. It’s not impossible that someone might be listening in, though you’re pretty certain that at least no one should be able to see you from here.
Now there’s a thought. You take off your glove and hold your hand out in front of you, slowly letting it change back to your original grey skin. Lester watches intently, marvelling at the way even the texture of your skin changes.
“This is a part of me that I cannot ignore,” you say. “And so I cannot ignore any kind of <i>injustices</i> that might be happening. I am in a unique and powerful position, and there’s some good I could do with it, I think. For the sake of people <i>like me</i>. However, by myself, not much can be done. Vynn has already agreed to help me, and I have a certain <i>outside contact</i> that I intend to work with. If this sounds like a cause you could get behind, well, we could use any help we can get.”
It should be vague enough to not give anything away should someone be listening in, but it also clearly gets the message across that you plan on supporting the fae and offering Lester to join your efforts. You hope the trust you have placed in him is justified.
You change your hand back to its human appearance as you wait for his answer. He looks like he is at the very least mulling it over, a calculating look in his eyes.
“While I do agree that something needs to change, and that <i>certain people in charge</i> won’t listen to anyone who even suggests as much, I’m not sure whether taking any kind of drastic measures is really going to help in the long run. No offence, but it seems to me like you made this decision quickly and based only on your own personal feelings. Do you have any sort of concrete plan?” Lester crosses his arms.
“I admit I haven’t decided which concrete actions should be taken, so I can’t promise you anything. But if you do decide to join us in this, then your input will be worth just as much as anyone else’s. I’m sure you have your own thoughts about this conflict, and I’m sure there are things you have experienced that we wouldn’t even think about. Your point of view is valuable.”
Lester stares up at you, wide-eyed. “I didn’t realise you valued what I had to say that much, Champ. You really know just the right things to say, don’t you?”
“I mean what I said, Lester. There’s a reason why I came to you with my secret. I trust you and I want to hear what you think about everything that’s going on.”
He scratches his head, half in contemplation, half in amusement. “Well, when you put it like <i>that</i>... Listen. I’m not promising you anything, but I would be interested in hearing about what sort of plans you and your mystery contact come up with. If they’re something I can get behind, then I have no reason not to help out. But I refuse to do anything stupid or crazy.”
You can’t help but smile at that. “Very fair. The fact that you are willing to keep my secret is already more than I can ask for. It might be a while before I get the opportunity to talk to her, but I’ll let you know what we plan on doing once we’ve decided.”
“I will say, it’s kind of you to want to make a change even though it puts your position as Champion and ultimately your life at risk.” Lester’s grin reveals his sharp teeth. “Though naive is another way to put it.”
“I prefer optimistic,” you say.
“Hah! I didn’t take you for the idealistic type, Champ. You struck me as a very pragmatic sort of person, but then again, we haven’t known each other long.”
[[“That’s true. Regardless of whether you want to help the cause or not, I’d love to spend more time with you.”|Chapter7B3C]]
[[“Maybe you’re not as good at reading people as you think, Lester.”|Chapter7B3C]]“Is it because you care for my safety or because you don’t trust me?” Lester asks with a raised eyebrow. “Or rather, you trusted me with your secret, but you don’t trust me with whatever else you’re going to do? I feel like I already am involved in this, like it or not.”
He does have a point. He knows that you are a changeling, and you have no doubt that he is intelligent enough to figure out what you plan on doing by himself. If he ever saw you sneaking around at night without Az’Lean, there’s no way he would buy any kind of lie from you. No, if you’re going to work with Maeve, there’s a good chance Lester will find out eventually.
What would be better - having him in the know and on your side, or trying to leave him out of it? Both options carry some amount of risk.
“You wouldn’t go sticking your nose into things if I asked you to stay out of this, would you?”
Lester stares at you. “$playername, I literally just broke into your room. I think you might be underestimating my ability to get into trouble, whether voluntarily or not. If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on that’s fine by me, but don’t start complaining when I end up getting in your way and ruining your plans. ‘Cause I’m never just doing <i>nothing</i>.”
So what he’s saying is that there’s something he’s doing beyond just working quietly as a servant, though you did already suspect that Lester had his own agenda in all of this. The question is whether that agenda of his aligns in any way with your own, and the only way to figure that out is to talk about it.
You take a moment to think about how you are going to word this - it wouldn’t do to speak words of treachery out loud while within the castle, even in your own room. It’s not impossible that someone might be listening in, though you’re pretty certain that at least no one should be able to see you from here.
Now there’s a thought. You take off your glove and hold your hand out in front of you, slowly letting it change back to your original grey skin. Lester watches intently, marvelling at the way even the texture of your skin changes.
“This is a part of me that I cannot ignore,” you say. “And so I cannot ignore any kind of <i>injustices</i> that might be happening. I am in a unique and powerful position, and there’s some good I could do with it, I think. For the sake of people <i>like me</i>.”
It should be vague enough to not give anything away should someone be listening in, but it also clearly gets the message across that you plan on supporting the fae.
You change your hand back to its human appearance as you wait for his reaction. There’s a calculating look in his eyes.
“While I do agree that something needs to change, and that <i>certain people in charge</i> won’t listen to anyone who even suggests as much, I’m not sure whether taking any kind of drastic measures is really going to help in the long run. Do you have any sort of concrete plan?” Lester crosses his arms.
“I admit I haven’t decided which concrete actions should be taken. There are other people I would need to discuss this with.”
“Then why don’t we wait until you’ve done that before we talk some more about this? You’re telling me not to get involved yet you don’t even know what you’re doing, Champ. Hilarious, really. Though if you ever need help, I wouldn’t mind. As long as it isn’t anything stupid or crazy,” Lester says with a grin. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but like I said, I wouldn’t mind pitching in. I agree that something needs to be done.”
That’s something you can be content with - knowing that Lester won’t be opposing you, and that you could potentially call upon his help later without having to let him in on everything you and Maeve are talking about. It’s a fair compromise.
“Then I appreciate your offer to help,” you say, returning his grin with a smaller one of your own. “And thank you for keeping my secret, as well. I can’t let that go unmentioned.”
“I will say, it’s kind of you to want to make a change even though it puts your position as Champion and ultimately your life at risk.” Lester’s grin turns wider and reveals his sharp teeth. “Though naive is another way to put it.”
“I prefer optimistic,” you say.
“Hah! I didn’t take you for the idealistic type, Champ. You struck me as a very pragmatic sort of person, but then again, we haven’t known each other long.”
[[“That’s true. Regardless of whether I want you to get involved in our plans, I’d love to spend more time with you.”|Chapter7B3C]]
[[“Maybe you’re not as good at reading people as you think, Lester.”|Chapter7B3C]]
“I don’t know, $playername. We’ve only spent a bit of time together and I already know your deepest darkest secret. What more do you have left to intrigue me with?”
“You could share something about yourself, instead. In my eyes, you're still plenty intriguing, Lester.”
“Hah! Glad to hear it.” He idly kicks his legs, casting a glance outside the window. Even though it is already quite late, the sun is still mostly up, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It illuminates Lester’s red hair, bringing out his fae features even more prominently.
There really is much you don’t know about him. Right now is probably a bad time to ask, but you do wonder about his parents. A human and a fae falling in love and having a child together - it must be quite the story. Even though it likely doesn’t end on a happy note, you do hope he’ll tell you about it someday.
“Have you been assigned some kind of job for the Summer Solstice Festival?” you ask, indicating that the serious talk is now officially over. “Az’Lean’s already running me ragged with preparations.”
Lester stretches his arms before visibly relaxing. “I’ve lucked out this year. I’m on decoration duty, which means during the festival itself I’ll be free. If you get to spend some of it without Princeling at your side, come find me.”
“Sure. One of the festival days is a Sunday, and that’s technically my day off.”
The two of you keep talking for a while about random topics, simply enjoying a quiet evening together. When the sun eventually does set completely, Lester takes his leave, promising to speak with you again soon.
As darkness sets around you and the moon rises, you wonder whether you should try going out to the castle gardens to contact Maeve. Since you didn’t get to talk to her yesterday, there’s a good chance she might be waiting to hear from you. On the other hand, you still have some sleep to catch up on.
While you think about what you should do, you come across the note that the Dullahan, Cillian, had given you before. He did write that you would meet soon - but how is he going to achieve that? There’s no way the Wild Hunt would try to breach the castle, right? Maybe you don’t have any time to waste and should be speaking with Maeve about this as soon as possible. With everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, it seems that there’s no telling what’s going to happen next.
No time like the present. At the very least, you should try to see if there’s an opportunity to talk to Maeve tonight - and if there is, you shouldn’t let it go to waste.
[[You shove the note into your pocket and exit your room.|Chapter7B4]]
As you suspected, due to the incident last week, security in the castle’s halls has been increased tremendously. Guards and knights alike are on patrol, especially near any entrances. There’s an air of tension surrounding them - the suspicion that anyone could really be a changeling must be getting to them. You walk past them all with ease, after all no one bats an eye at the Champion helping out with security. It almost makes you laugh.
Realistically, you know this isn’t good though. You might be lucky tonight, but there’s a very real possibility that they might lock down the gardens at night for good. Or worse, what if Thianne’s magical barrier devices get installed all over the castle to prevent any fae from moving around unseen? That’d have your back against the wall in the worst possible way. Come to think of it, you wonder whether half-fae like Lester are affected by those barriers, and to what degree. It might be something worth figuring out.
In any case, having a human like Vynn on your side might prove invaluable after all.
When you get to the gardens, your heart falls. You are very much not alone. Vynn is there on patrol, which would’ve been a good thing if they’d been by themself. Instead, they are accompanied by two other knights - Fowain and Abigail. They’re walking circles around the entire garden and it doesn’t look like they’re going to stop soon.
Vynn’s dark brown eyes meet yours and you can tell from their look alone that they are more than a little exasperated. You can guess that they already tried and failed to get the others to leave. Unfortunately, any knight worth their salt wouldn’t ever leave all of the responsibility to Vynn of all people.
It seems like a proper meeting with Maeve is out of the question, and if things continue like this, it might be like that for a while. Panic seizes you for a moment. What if you never get to see Maeve again? What then?
You take a deep breath and slowly walk towards the weeping willow in the centre of the garden. No, there has to be some other way to stay in contact with her. Maybe you can just whisper something, and she’ll be able to hear it in the grove.
As nonchalantly as possible, you lean against the willow’s trunk, crossing your arms and tilting your head back. “Maeve? Don’t show yourself, just whisper something in return if you can hear me,” you softly say to yourself.
It is quiet for a while, all you hear are crickets and the wind rustling through the leaves above you.
“$playername,” you hear her voice suddenly. It seems to come from within the tree, but it sounds like she’s standing right behind you, whispering in your ear. It’s a strange sensation, but not unpleasant. “Did something happen?”
“A lot is going on and there’s much I want to talk to you about, but they’ve upped the security in the castle. We won’t be able to meet here. Is there any other way?”
You watch the knights walk past the rose bushes on the other side of the gardens. It seems Abigail has spotted you, and she extends her hand in a wave. You wave back, praying that she won’t come over here. Luckily, it seems Vynn is able to keep her on track and the three of them keep walking.
“This is the only tree outside of our grove that I have access to. We do have some saplings, but someone would need to come here and get it, then plant it somewhere you had better access to. No human can survive in the fae lands, and I obviously can’t leave. I doubt you’d be able to just leave the castle for a few days. So we’d need to get the help of some other fae or half-fae.”
You would need the help of another fae or half-fae… Well, Lester really is the only one you know. No matter how you felt about possibly getting him involved in this before, it’s starting to look like you might not have any other choice.
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">> “There is a half-fae in this castle who might be able to help. I already told him about myself, and he promised to keep my secret and support me. You’re fine with letting him in on this?”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. We won’t get anywhere without taking some risks,” Maeve says. Her tone of voice is even - she seems to be sure about it.
“There’s someone else who knows about me. They’re a human, my best friend, and they offered to help me no matter what. I think it might be good to have a human on the inside, as well. They’d want to meet you if we ever get the chance.”
Maeve is quiet for a minute. “I’d love to meet them and see for myself what type of person they are.”
She sounds a bit more hesitant this time, though you suppose that’s understandable.
<<else>>
“There is a half-fae in this castle who might be able to help, though I’m not sure whether I can trust him. If my secret got out…”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. We won’t get anywhere without taking some risks,” Maeve says. Her tone of voice is even - she seems to be sure about it. “I think it would be good for you if you weren’t alone in this, $playername.”
“There is someone who knows about me. They’re a human, my best friend, and they offered to help me no matter what. I think it might be good to have a human on the inside, as well. They’d want to meet you if we ever get the chance.”
Maeve is quiet for a minute. “I’d love to meet them and see for myself what type of person they are.”
She sounds a bit hesitant, though you suppose that’s understandable.<<endif>>\
Just as you are about to answer her, you spot someone in the corner of your eye. It is a pair of guards who have just exited the castle, and it looks like they are on their way over here. They are dangerously close to being able to hear you, even if you whisper.
[[Leave the tree immediately, without another word. Maeve will understand what’s happening.|Chapter7B5]]
[[“Someone’s coming. Goodbye, Maeve,” you whisper quickly before stepping away from the tree.|Chapter7B5]]
When you part ways with Az’Lean after dinner and return to your room, you’re surprised to find someone already standing outside of it, waiting for you.
“Vynn, what’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just on my way to patrol the castle grounds. I’ve been saddled with the night shift, can you believe it?” They add an appropriately dramatic sigh.
So their endeavour was successful, good to know. “What horrible luck. So you’re going to be outside all night? Well, at least the weather is nice. It’s going to be a pleasant night, lots of stars to watch.”
“Right. But then, I’m supposed to be watching out for intruders, not stars. What with that changeling breaking in two days ago, we have to always be on our guard. First, I have to check the entire area around the stables, then at the half-way point of my shift I’ll have to move to the gardens and then end my patrol on the training grounds. That’s six hours of walking around outside!”
Quite the genius move on Vynn’s part; they are clearly enjoying themselves. So, their shift would be six hours long, and they would begin patrolling the gardens at the half-way point, meaning you should go there in a little over three hours. There’s no guarantee that Maeve would still be available that late in the night, on a Monday no less, but with a prime opportunity like this, how could you not at least try to contact her.
“Sounds like you won’t be getting much sleep any time soon,” you say as casually as can be. “What did you do to deserve this?”
Vynn laughs proudly. “I went to Lady Westwale and complained to her all about how much I hated to be stuck inside the castle all the time, and that it was causing my beautiful soul to wither away. I told her this was a time to spend outside with a lover or two, though clearly she wouldn’t know. That pissed her right off, and she said if I loved spending time outside at night that much, I might as well take the graveyard shift. I began complaining even more, and she turned her threat into reality. So, now I’m saddled with this.”
Impressive. Lady Westwale wasn’t easy to rile up, but Vynn seemed to have played her like a fiddle.
“A lover or two, hm?” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow.
Vynn dramatically runs a hand through their hair. “Oh, $playername. If there were anyone, you’d be the first to hear about it. Incessantly. Whether you want to hear about it or not. Though I certainly wouldn’t mind a bit of romance in my life.”
[[“I wouldn’t mind a bit of romance either.”|Chapter7B3D]]
[[“Oh, that’s good. I mean, not that it concerns me.”|Chapter7B3D]]
[[“With everything going on, I don’t think I have much time for romance at the moment.”|Chapter7B3E]]
[[“I’m not really interested in romance, but I wouldn’t mind spending a peaceful night in good company.”|Chapter7B3F]]
“You don’t say,” Vynn says, smiles innocently, and leaves it at that. “Be that as it may, there’ll be time for romance another day. You always told me that a knight shouldn’t get distracted while on duty.”
“I didn’t think you were listening,” you respond immediately, “Good job, Vynn.”
Their smile widens. “I always listen to you, $playername. I suppose now is the time to prove it. If you’ll excuse me.”
As Vynn sets out on their patrol, you make yourself comfortable in your room, ready to bide your time. Lying down on your bed is a bit risky admittedly - you really don’t want to accidentally fall asleep - but you can tell that your body needs the rest. Fortunately, you have too much on your mind to just doze off.
As darkness sets around you and the moon rises, you figure it's time to start getting ready. You don’t want to get to the gardens before Vynn, but you also don’t know whether something on your way there might hold you up. As much as you’d love to catch up on sleep, you need to talk to Maeve as soon as possible.
While you get ready to head out, you come across the note that the Dullahan, Cillian, had given you before. He did write that you would meet soon - but how is he going to achieve that? There’s no way the Wild Hunt would try to breach the castle, right? You really don’t have any time to waste - Maeve needs to know about this too. With everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, there’s no telling what’s going to happen next, so you need to all be on the same page.
Vynn should be getting to the gardens any minute now if nothing interrupted their patrol. No time like the present.
[[You shove the note into your pocket and exit your room.|Chapter7B4]]
Vynn smiles sympathetically. “Yeah, that makes sense. Who would you even be able to trust with your heart? It seems like everything and everyone is tied up in a complex web of conflict, and it doesn’t seem like that’s going to change anytime soon.”
“If anything, we’ll have to be the ones to change it,” you say. “I know it sounds daunting.”
“Honestly, that gives me even more motivation, $playername. I’ll do whatever I can so that one day, you’ll have all the time you need for romance and enjoying life. On that note, I should probably be going. Time’s not waiting for me to finish talking.”
As Vynn sets out on their patrol, you make yourself comfortable in your room, ready to bide your time. Lying down on your bed is a bit risky admittedly - you really don’t want to accidentally fall asleep - but you can tell that your body needs the rest. Fortunately, you have too much on your mind to just doze off.
As darkness sets around you and the moon rises, you figure it's time to start getting ready. You don’t want to get to the gardens before Vynn, but you also don’t know whether something on your way there might hold you up. As much as you’d love to catch up on sleep, you need to talk to Maeve as soon as possible.
While you get ready to head out, you come across the note that the Dullahan, Cillian, had given you before. He did write that you would meet soon - but how is he going to achieve that? There’s no way the Wild Hunt would try to breach the castle, right? You really don’t have any time to waste - Maeve needs to know about this too. With everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, there’s no telling what’s going to happen next, so you need to all be on the same page.
Vynn should be getting to the gardens any minute now if nothing interrupted their patrol. No time like the present.
[[You shove the note into your pocket and exit your room.|Chapter7B4]]
“Then what do you call what we did yesterday? It was most certainly night and I am most certainly the best company the kingdom has to offer,” Vynn protests in mock offence.
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t very peaceful though, was it?” you shoot back.
“Then let’s make it so that next time, there’ll be nothing to disturb our peace. It’s as good a goal as any, I’d say. On that note, I should probably get going. Time waits for no one.”
As Vynn sets out on their patrol, you make yourself comfortable in your room, ready to bide your time. Lying down on your bed is a bit risky admittedly - you really don’t want to accidentally fall asleep - but you can tell that your body needs the rest. Fortunately, you have too much on your mind to just doze off.
As darkness sets around you and the moon rises, you figure it's time to start getting ready. You don’t want to get to the gardens before Vynn, but you also don’t know whether something on your way there might hold you up. As much as you’d love to catch up on sleep, you need to talk to Maeve as soon as possible.
While you get ready to head out, you come across the note that the Dullahan, Cillian, had given you before. He did write that you would meet soon - but how is he going to achieve that? There’s no way the Wild Hunt would try to breach the castle, right? You really don’t have any time to waste - Maeve needs to know about this too. With everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, there’s no telling what’s going to happen next, so you need to all be on the same page.
Vynn should be getting to the gardens any minute now if nothing interrupted their patrol. No time like the present.
[[You shove the note into your pocket and exit your room.|Chapter7B4]]
The two guards eye you warily as you walk past them towards the entrance of the garden, but they don’t stop you. They simply nod as you pass them by. Suddenly, the note from Cillian in your pocket feels like it’s weighing tons. If anyone found this on you, you’d have a hard time explaining that one. It becomes increasingly clear to you how careful you really need to be from now on.
With hurried steps you make your way through the castle, all the while feeling like you are being watched. Did you draw unnecessary attention to yourself? Are you under suspicion? You know it’s probably nothing, but you just can’t shake the sensation of prying eyes judging your every action.
When you return to your room, you are out of breath despite it not being a far walk at all. The first thing you do is lock the door behind you. Then, you read over the note of Cillian again, burning it into your memory. It really didn’t say that much: <i>I have witnessed your decision to stay true to your blood. The Wild Hunt shall honour your resolve and observe for now. We will meet soon. Signed, Cillian</i>.
There is no reason to keep the note around. You know what it says and you don’t doubt that Maeve will believe you when you tell her about it. The best course of action is to burn it.
<<if $element == "fire">>You use your fire magic, and it is completely destroyed in a matter of seconds.
<<else>> You hold it over the candle on your night stand and it is completely destroyed in a matter of seconds.<<endif>>\
That, at the very least, offers you a sense of relief. From now on, it seems like secrecy will have to be your number one priority. While it is good that you were able to exchange a few words with Maeve tonight, there’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You barely said ‘hello’ to her.
From the looks of it, you might not have a choice but to rely on Lester to establish a second way of contacting Maeve. If the sapling from her grove were small enough, you might be able to keep it in your room - that would certainly be ideal. If not, maybe you could plant it somewhere just outside the city, so you could go to it on you days off at least. Either way though, you need a fae or a half-fae to go and retrieve it. Who else but Lester could do it?
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>He’ll be glad to hear that Maeve is not opposed to him being in the know about all this, though you hesitate to ask him for such a large favour right away. A trip to the fae lands must be difficult, even for him. First things first, you need to talk to him once more.
<<else>>
You had hoped to have more time to consider whether to get Lester involved in this or not, but unless you can come up with something else, there might be no other way. You have to put your trust in Lester, and pray that he’s on your side. First things first, you need to tell him about your secret. If he responds positively to that, you can go from there. If not, well, you might be in trouble.<<endif>>\
[[In any case, you know what you’ll have to do tomorrow - seek out Lester.|Chapter7B6]]
!!!Year 929, 28th of the Cherry Moon
The first thing you do after waking up, before you even go to see Az’Lean, is find Vynn and tell them about what Maeve said to you last night. Vynn stares at you with dead tired eyes as they listen, having only gotten a good two hours of sleep after their nightly patrol. They agree though that it is probably your best bet to talk to Lester, and promise to tell him to go see you as soon as possible. It truly is handy having someone like Vynn as your go-between.
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>
They don’t disappoint. On your way back to your room after yet another day of following Az’Lean around and fulfilling your duty, Lester suddenly runs into you, seemingly by coincidence, though his expression makes it clear that he was looking for you.
“I heard you wanted to talk to me. Again,” he says, keeping his voice down. “Follow me. I know a place where no one can listen in.”
“Lead the way.”
Lester takes you down the stairs and across the courtyard. At first it seems like you’re heading in the direction of the kitchens, but then he takes a sharp left turn into a tiny reading nook by one of the windows.
“There’s a silencing enchantment on this,” Lester explains as he makes himself comfortable on the stone bench that stretches across the nook. “Some mage must have put this up when they were reading and never took it down. No sound travels through at all.”
“How convenient. I need to learn how to cast something like that on my room,” you say as you sit down next to him.
“So, I’m guessing you were able to speak to that contact of yours?” Lester doesn’t bother hiding his intrigue.
“Yes and no. There were knights and guards patrolling everywhere, so we could only exchange a few words. As it pertains to you though, she doesn’t mind me telling you about what we’re doing. I think she’s really looking forward to meeting you, which brings me to a certain problem.”
“Let me guess - your way of contacting her isn’t reliable.”
You nod. “Exactly. I can’t sneak out every night and just hope there isn’t anyone around. That’ll just end with me getting caught. She’s a dryad, and so I can only talk to her in the castle gardens.”
“Because of the tree, huh?” Lester’s eyebrows knit together. “I’m guessing we can’t just relocate that tree to somewhere else.”
“Right, and that’s where you come in. There is something we can do, but you’d have to be the one to do it. It’s a lot to ask for, not to mention dangerous, so I understand if it’s not something you’re willing to do. Just talking about doing it could get both of us in a lot of trouble. Knowing this, will you still hear me out?”
You know that this goes beyond just asking him for a favour. Even suggesting that he should go travel all the way to the fae lands and smuggle a sapling from Maeve’s grove back into the kingdom seems ridiculous. You know it is an unreasonable thing to ask, and maybe you’re moving to quickly with this, but if he’s absolutely not going to do it, you’d rather know immediately.
Lester takes a second to consider, but regardless of whether he’s just curious or because he genuinely wants to help out, he eventually nods.
<<else>>
After yet another day of following Az’Lean around and fulfilling your duty, you return to your room only to find Lester already there, sitting at the edge of your bed like he owns the place.
The door was still locked, so you wonder whether he got in through the window or whether he picked the lock open, entered, and then picked it closed again for whatever reason.
Before you get any chance to ask him about it, you have to dodge the pillow he throws at your face. It lands harmlessly on the ground behind you.
“Your room is pretty boring,” he says by way of greeting. “There’s nothing even to snoop through.”
You close the door behind you with a snort. “What did you expect? It’s not even been a month since I moved in, it’s not like I had a lot of chances to decorate it.”
“I guess I expected the walls to be covered in ceremonial weapons or something. I don’t know, that’s just how I imagine a knight to live.”
You bend down to pick up the pillow. “Well, sorry to disappoint. How did you get in here, by the way?”
Lester grins and pulls a pair of thin needles out of the inside of his vest. “It’s not a very secure lock. Maybe you should get some magical protections in place, just in case.”
So he picked it. Although you should probably be mad about that, it is impressive more than anything. Being able to open locks like that seems like a useful skill to have and you wonder whether Lester would be able to teach you how to do it, though that is a conversation for another time.
“I heard you wanted to talk to me? Sounded pretty urgent,” he says. His tone is a little unsure, as if he’s worried he might be in trouble or something.
You start wringing your hands. First things first, you’ll have to tell him about your secret.
“I need to tell you something,” you say slowly and motion for him to come closer.
Lester’s eyes widen. “This isn’t a love confession, is it?”
You lean in closer and begin to whisper as quietly as you can: “Not quite. Let’s make this quick: I’m actually fae. I’m a changeling, though I didn’t know about it growing up.” The words leave your mouth in a dizzying rush. It takes quite a lot out of you to trust Lester with this, but if you want him to help you, you need him to understand. You know you won’t get anywhere by playing it safe.
No one can hear this, so you continue to speak in a whisper. “My family didn’t know and so I was raised as a human. I always wanted to be a knight, to be the Champion, but then a few weeks ago I learned the truth about who I really am. I have been doing a lot of thinking, and I figure if anyone here could understand the position I am in, it might be you, Lester.”
Lester leans back and stares at you, wide-eyed. Disbelieving. Of course, why would he believe your ramblings? He really hasn’t known you for long.
“I’m not sure whether you’re trying to trick me into saying something traitorous or not, but I’m genuinely not sure what to make of this,” Lester says and begins to fidget. Great, you’ve made him uncomfortable.
“I’ll do my best to explain,” you say and take a deep breath. You go into a bit more detail without saying something that completely implicates you as you tell him about your meetings with Maeve, and your and Vynn’s plan to use your position as Champion to support the fae. When that still isn’t enough to convince him, you take off your glove and show him your hand, untransformed. He blinks at the grey skin in wonder, and it seems seeing it with his own eyes helps him to believe you.
“The reason I’m telling you this, Lester, is because I trust you. I think you might be sympathetic to my situation, and maybe even willing to help. I could really use someone like you as an ally. After all, there are things only you can do.”
Lester seems to think for a moment of what to say. The wait is killing you, but you know that you’ve just sprung a lot on him. You’d be surprised if he even had an answer to give you, at this point.
“Well, first things first: I have no problem at all with you being a changeling,” he says, and with that at least the first hurdle is cleared. “My dad was fae, half my family is fae, I am not going to admit to having friends who are fae <i>out loud</i>, but you can get the idea. You said that you didn’t know what you are, and yet you seem to have accepted it and are willing to even use it to your advantage. You’re something else, $playername.”
He laughs, and though it does sound a little hysterical, relief washes over you just knowing that Lester is willing to understand and accept you. For the first time in a while, you feel like you are getting somewhere. Things are looking up - not only have your parents accepted you, but also Vynn and Lester. Together with Maeve, that makes a good number of people you can rely on.
“Thank you, Lester. You don’t know how much it means for you to say that.”
He smiles brightly. “This has all been quite a lot, but I’m glad you told me, Champ. I know what it’s like to be an outsider against your will. I can’t exactly hide my heritage, and at least legally I am allowed to be here, but it still feels like I’m always hiding a part of myself. It must have taken a lot of courage to just come out and say it.”
You let out a sigh. “Honestly, it’s mostly just a weight off my shoulders. I need all the help I can get if I not only want to survive this, but actually accomplish something as well. If you had renounced me for being a changeling, I might’ve just given up.”
“You said you were planning on supporting the fae. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I’m not opposed to lending a hand if it’s for a good cause. Gods know Princeling will only ever use violence to resolve this conflict.” Lester shakes his head in disappointment. “Though keep in mind I’m not promising you anything.”
“There is something I could use your help with. It’s a lot to ask for, not to mention dangerous, so I understand if it’s not something you’re willing to do. Just talking about doing it could get both of us in a lot of trouble. Knowing this, will you still hear me out?” It seems unfair to beg Lester for favours immediately after dumping all of this on him, but if he’s absolutely not going to do it, you’d rather know immediately.
Lester takes a second to consider, but regardless of whether he’s curious or because he genuinely wants to help out, he eventually nods.
<<endif>>\
[[“I’m listening, Champ. What do you want me to do?”|Chapter7B7]]
“In order to establish a more reliable way of communicating with Maeve, I need to get one of the saplings from her grove. I could plant that at a more ideal location, or maybe even keep it in my room for a while. However, getting it is the problem, as her grove is obviously in the fae lands. The only one who could make the trip would be a fae or a half-fae, and due to my position as Champion, I can’t very well take multiple days off. I don’t know any other fae or half-fae, so really, you’re the only one I can even ask.”
A pained look crosses Lester’s face. “I feared it would be something like this. Let me make sure I’m understanding this right. You want me to go ditch work for a couple of days, make a trip into the heart of the fae lands - a place I’m not very familiar with, by the way - find this dryad grove, dig out a sapling, then haul it all the way back to the kingdom and into the castle, without anyone finding out what I’m doing. I’ll look extremely suspicious, and there’s a good chance that I’ll be arrested, even if I do make it back.”
Hearing it like this makes you falter. You really are asking him to risk his life, and for what? There’s no way he’ll agree. How can you even convince him? Appeal to his emotions? Argue that this is for a good cause?
The look in his eyes tells you that he’s thought about all of that already, and that it doesn’t matter. Lester isn’t a bad person, but he’s not the type to do something like this just for the sake of it. Still, if he won’t do it, there’s no one else you could even think of turning to.
“Please, Lester. There’s no one else I can ask. You said yourself that you wouldn’t mind supporting the fae, and if I can’t figure out a way to speak with Maeve more easily, there’s not much I can do.”
<<if $Lester > 55>>
He looks at you intently, studying your face. You steadfastly hold his gaze - in the end, he is the one to break first. He sighs loudly and runs a hand across his face, and you know you’ve reached him.
“I hope you know that this is a very unreasonable request. I’ll do it, but I just want you to know that I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, and that you’ll forever owe me for this.” He averts his gaze, almost shyly. “You better be grateful for this.”
[[“Thank you, Lester. There are no words to express how much this means to me, truly. I promise I’ll repay you for this.”|Chapter7B8A]]
<<else>>
He raises an eyebrow at you. “I’ll need more than that, Champ.”
It seems like you’ll have to convince him. Pretty words might not be enough.
[[“I’ll pay you, as much as I can.”|Chapter7B8B]]
[[“I’ll owe you a favour of equivalent value. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.” You mean it.|Chapter7B8C]]
[[“I’ll owe you a favour of equivalent value. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.” You’re lying. You have no intention to do anything for Lester, but by the time he’ll find that out, you’ll have what you need.|Chapter7B8D]]
[[“What would you need for it to be worth it?” You might be leaving yourself open to being extorted, but you have no idea what it would take for him to agree, and you’re not keen on entering a bidding war.|Chapter7B8E]]
<<endif>>\
A mischievous grin spreads across Lester’s face. “Oh, I’ll hold you to that, $playername. I can promise you that.”
You can’t even begin to imagine what Lester might want from you, but you have no trouble trusting him at all. You know he won’t use this against you, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed so easily to do this.
“We’re in this together now, so you can count on me anytime,” you say. You find that it’s true - you’d fight the world for Lester if you had to.
His grin softens somewhat. “I like the thought of that. By the way, where exactly is this grove supposed to be? You said the fae lands, which doesn’t narrow it down at all.”
You open your mouth to answer before you realise that you have no idea. “I didn’t get the chance to ask Maeve. Damn it, I’ll have to sneak back into the garden after all. I can’t very well send you on a wild goose chase.”
Lester barks a laugh. “You’re a bit of a mess, you know that? A dryad named Maeve, though - that should be enough for me to figure it out on my own.”
“Really?” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Oh please, you’re not the only one with connections to the fae. I know a Leanan Sidhe who smuggles human wares to a few of the dryad groves, he’ll point me in the right direction.” Lester smugly inspects his nails. “I guess you’ll owe him, too.”
“I’ll make it up to him by preventing Az’Lean from declaring war,” you say, watching with delight how Lester’s eyes sparkle with mirth at your words. It feels very validating to make a guy like him laugh, for some reason.
“Such lofty aspirations, $playername. Let’s hope I manage to pull this off, otherwise I’m not sure how far you’ll get with that.”
The thought that Lester might fail, and what that might mean for his safety, weighs heavily on you. “I know this might sound hypocritical coming from the one who’s asking you to do this, but… be careful, Lester.”
Lester’s expression turns sharp, all levity gone in an instant. “I know. You don’t have to tell me twice. The same goes for you - don’t get yourself found out while I’m gone. If I get back with that sapling only to find you locked up and scheduled for execution, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.”
“In that case, I wish the both of us the best of luck,” you say, extending your hand towards Lester.
He grips it firmly, and the two of you shake on it.
You only notice how warm his hand is when it leaves yours as Lester gets up and says his farewells.
“I’ll go and call in sick before I leave,” he announces. “If for some fucking reason Az’Lean gets suspicious of that, make sure to cover for me.”
With that, he takes his leave. All that remains is worry gnawing at your insides as you silently pray for his success.
[[These next few days are going to be long and stressful. There’s not much you can do though besides playing your part and waiting for Lester to return.|Chapter7B9]]<<set $Lester to $Lester - 5>>\
Lester’s gaze sharpens. “You’re on the right track, but it isn’t money I’m after, $playername. I’d much rather want a favour from you. There might come a time when I get myself into trouble as well, and I’m counting on you to bail me out in that case.”
“Fine, a favour it is then,” you relent with a sigh. “Just promise me you won’t use it for anything stupid. I don’t mind helping you out, but I’d rather it be for something worthwhile.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll save that favour for emergencies only,” Lester says with a grin, waving his hand as if that were enough to dispel your doubts. You get the feeling this might come back to bite you later, but so be it. You are asking a lot of him, so it isn’t your place to complain.
“By the way, where exactly is this grove supposed to be?” Lester continues. “You said the fae lands, which doesn’t narrow it down at all.”
You open your mouth to answer before you realise that you have no idea. “I didn’t get the chance to ask Maeve. Damn it, I’ll have to sneak back into the garden after all. I can’t very well send you on a wild goose chase.”
Lester barks a laugh. “You’re a bit of a mess, you know that? A dryad named Maeve, though - that should be enough for me to figure it out on my own.”
“Really?” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Oh please, you’re not the only one with connections to the fae. I know a Leanan Sidhe who smuggles human wares to a few of the dryad groves, he’ll point me in the right direction.” Lester smugly inspects his nails. “I guess you’ll owe him, too.”
“I’ll make it up to him by preventing Az’Lean from declaring war,” you say with a scoff.
“Such lofty aspirations, $playername. Let’s hope I manage to pull this off, otherwise I’m not sure how far you’ll get with that.”
The thought that Lester might fail, and what that might mean for his safety, weighs heavily on you. “I know this might sound hypocritical coming from the one who’s asking you to do this, but…be careful, Lester.”
Lester’s expression turns sharp, all levity gone in an instant. “I know. You don’t have to tell me twice. The same goes for you - don’t get yourself found out while I’m gone. If I get back with that sapling only to find you locked up and scheduled for execution, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.”
“In that case, I wish the both of us the best of luck,” you say, extending your hand towards Lester.
He grips it firmly, and the two of you shake on it.
“I’ll go and call in sick before I leave,” he announces. “If for some fucking reason Az’Lean gets suspicious of that, make sure to cover for me.”
With that, he takes his leave. All that remains is worry gnawing at your insides as you silently pray for his success.
[[These next few days are going to be long and stressful. There’s not much you can do though besides playing your part and waiting for Lester to return.|Chapter7B9]]Lester grins widely. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. A favour from you might actually be worth quite a lot, $playername. There might come a time when I get myself into trouble as well, and I’m counting on you to bail me out in that case.”
“Sounds like a deal,” you say with a bit of trepidation. “Just promise me you won’t use it for anything stupid. I don’t mind helping you out, but I’d rather it be for something worthwhile.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll save that favour for emergencies only,” Lester says, waving his hand as if that were enough to dispel your doubts. You get the feeling this might come back to bite you later, but so be it. You are asking a lot of him, so it isn’t your place to complain.
“By the way, where exactly is this grove supposed to be?” Lester continues. “You said the fae lands, which doesn’t narrow it down at all.”
You open your mouth to answer before you realise that you have no idea. “I didn’t get the chance to ask Maeve. Damn it, I’ll have to sneak back into the garden after all. I can’t very well send you on a wild goose chase.”
Lester barks a laugh. “You’re a bit of a mess, you know that? A dryad named Maeve, though - that should be enough for me to figure it out on my own.”
“Really?” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Oh please, you’re not the only one with connections to the fae. I know a Leanan Sidhe who smuggles human wares to a few of the dryad groves, he’ll point me in the right direction.” Lester smugly inspects his nails. “I guess you’ll owe him, too.”
“I’ll make it up to him by preventing Az’Lean from declaring war,” you say with a scoff.
“Such lofty aspirations, $playername. Let’s hope I manage to pull this off, otherwise I’m not sure how far you’ll get with that.”
The thought that Lester might fail, and what that might mean for his safety, weighs heavily on you. “I know this might sound hypocritical coming from the one who’s asking you to do this, but… be careful, Lester.”
Lester’s expression turns sharp, all levity gone in an instant. “I know. You don’t have to tell me twice. The same goes for you - don’t get yourself found out while I’m gone. If I get back with that sapling only to find you locked up and scheduled for execution, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.”
“In that case, I wish the both of us the best of luck,” you say, extending your hand towards Lester.
He grips it firmly, and the two of you shake on it.
“I’ll go and call in sick before I leave,” he announces. “If for some fucking reason Az’Lean gets suspicious of that, make sure to cover for me.”
With that, he takes his leave. All that remains is worry gnawing at your insides as you silently pray for his success.
[[These next few days are going to be long and stressful. There’s not much you can do though besides playing your part and waiting for Lester to return.|Chapter7B9]]
<<set $lie to $lie + 2>>\
Lester grins widely. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. A favour from you might actually be worth quite a lot, $playername. There might come a time when I get myself into trouble as well, and I’m counting on you to bail me out in that case.”
“Sounds like a deal,” you say with fake satisfaction. “Just promise me you won’t use it for anything stupid. I don’t mind helping you out, but I’d rather it be for something worthwhile.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll save that favour for emergencies only,” Lester says, his gaze turning sharp. You get the feeling that you’re not the only one with ill intentions here, and that he might be lying as well. It makes you feel a lot better about your decision.
“By the way, where exactly is this grove supposed to be?” Lester continues. “You said the fae lands, which doesn’t narrow it down at all.”
You open your mouth to answer before you realise that you have no idea. “I didn’t get the chance to ask Maeve. Damn it, I’ll have to sneak back into the garden after all. I can’t very well send you on a wild goose chase.”
Lester barks a laugh. “You’re a bit of a mess, you know that? A dryad named Maeve, though - that should be enough for me to figure it out on my own.”
“Really?” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Oh please, you’re not the only one with connections to the fae. I know a Leanan Sidhe who smuggles human wares to a few of the dryad groves, he’ll point me in the right direction.” Lester smugly inspects his nails. “I guess you’ll owe him, too.”
“I’ll make it up to him by preventing Az’Lean from declaring war,” you say with a scoff.
“Such lofty aspirations, $playername. Let’s hope I manage to pull this off, otherwise I’m not sure how far you’ll get with that.”
The thought that Lester might fail, and what that might mean for his safety, weighs heavily on you. “I know this might sound hypocritical coming from the one who’s asking you to do this, but… be careful, Lester.”
Lester’s expression turns sharp, all levity gone in an instant. “I know. You don’t have to tell me twice. The same goes for you - don’t get yourself found out while I’m gone. If I get back with that sapling only to find you locked up and scheduled for execution, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.”
“In that case, I wish the both of us the best of luck,” you say, extending your hand towards Lester.
He grips it firmly, and the two of you shake on it.
“I’ll go and call in sick before I leave,” he announces. “If for some fucking reason Az’Lean gets suspicious of that, make sure to cover for me.”
With that, he takes his leave. All that remains is worry gnawing at your insides as you silently pray for his success.
[[These next few days are going to be long and stressful. There’s not much you can do though besides playing your part and waiting for Lester to return.|Chapter7B9]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
Lester grins widely. “I think I could be satisfied with a favour - redeemable at any point in the future. A favour from you might actually be worth quite a lot, $playername. There might come a time when I get myself into trouble as well, and I’m counting on you to bail me out in that case.”
“A favour it is, then,” you say with a bit of trepidation. “Just promise me you won’t use it for anything stupid. I don’t mind helping you out, but I’d rather it be for something worthwhile.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll save that favour for emergencies only,” Lester says, waving his hand as if that were enough to dispel your doubts. You get the feeling this might come back to bite you later, but so be it. You are asking a lot of him, so it isn’t your place to complain.
“By the way, where exactly is this grove supposed to be?” Lester continues. “You said the fae lands, which doesn’t narrow it down at all.”
You open your mouth to answer before you realise that you have no idea. “I didn’t get the chance to ask Maeve. Damn it, I’ll have to sneak back into the garden after all. I can’t very well send you on a wild goose chase.”
Lester barks a laugh. “You’re a bit of a mess, you know that? A dryad named Maeve, though - that should be enough for me to figure it out on my own.”
“Really?” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Oh please, you’re not the only one with connections to the fae. I know a Leanan Sidhe who smuggles human wares to a few of the dryad groves, he’ll point me in the right direction.” Lester smugly inspects his nails. “I guess you’ll owe him, too.”
“I’ll make it up to him by preventing Az’Lean from declaring war,” you say with a scoff.
“Such lofty aspirations, $playername. Let’s hope I manage to pull this off, otherwise I’m not sure how far you’ll get with that.”
The thought that Lester might fail, and what that might mean for his safety, weighs heavily on you. “I know this might sound hypocritical coming from the one who’s asking you to do this, but… be careful, Lester.”
Lester’s expression turns sharp, all levity gone in an instant. “I know. You don’t have to tell me twice. The same goes for you - don’t get yourself found out while I’m gone. If I get back with that sapling only to find you locked up and scheduled for execution, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.”
“In that case, I wish the both of us the best of luck,” you say, extending your hand towards Lester.
He grips it firmly, and the two of you shake on it.
“I’ll go and call in sick before I leave,” he announces. “If for some fucking reason Az’Lean gets suspicious of that, make sure to cover for me.”
With that, he takes his leave. All that remains is worry gnawing at your insides as you silently pray for his success.
[[These next few days are going to be long and stressful. There’s not much you can do though besides playing your part and waiting for Lester to return.|Chapter7B9]]
!!!Year 929, 2nd of the Midday Moon
A few days later, and less than a week before the Summer Solstice Festival officially begins, you are awoken very early in the morning by a strange noise outside of your window. It sounds a bit like scratching, and while it's probably just some bird, you can't help but be on alert immediately.
As you scramble out of bed and head to your window, you make sure to grab a dagger, just in case. You doubt any kind of burglar would be stupid enough to attempt to rob the Champion's chambers at a time like this, but stranger things have happened.
<<if $curtains == "burgundy">>You push your deep burgundy curtains aside in one swift motion.<<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "green">>You push your vibrant green curtains aside in one swift motion. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "white">>You push your pure white curtains aside in one swift motion. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "yellow">>You push your bright yellow curtains aside in one swift motion. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "blue">>You push your midnight blue curtains aside in one swift motion. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "floral">>You push your colourful floral curtains aside in one swift motion. <<endif>>\
<<if $curtains == "surprise">>You push your gold embroidered black curtains aside in one swift motion. <<endif>>\
There, just outside your window, sits a grey cat, lounging on the stone window sill. It gazes up at you with attentive green eyes, and you notices that four small stones are resting between its paws. The stones look uneven and partly covered in moss. Did that cat bring these stones here? You gaze down at the steep incline and wonder whether that's even possible.
The cat, knowing that it has your attention, pushes the stones towards you. You reel back a bit, unnerved by its intelligence, before finally opening the window completely. The cat picks up one of the stones in its mouth and jumps into your room.
"So you did bring them to me for a reason, huh?"
You watch as the cat carries the stone to a corner of your room and carefully places it on the ground. Then it turns around to look at you, expectantly. At least, that's what you think the intense stare means.
"You want me to... grab the rest of them?"
As silly as it feels talking to a random cat that just wandered in, you get the sense that it does understand you at least somewhat. More than that, it seems like this cat knows more about what's going on than you do. You're not sure how to feel about that.
Without letting your guard down for even a second, you pick up the three remaining stones from your window sill. Once you hold them in your hands, you realise that they are in fact rune stones, but they don't look like the ones you're used to. Usually, rune stones are large and flat, sanded down to not have any sharp edges and be easier to store. These ones just look like random pebbles, and the runes are barely visible under a layer of moss.
You get the feeling these might not be human made, but rather fae.
They all have the same set of runes on them, though you can't quite figure out what the combination means. It looks like some type of area of effect enchantment, but you don't know what it does.
You glance back at the stone that the cat placed in one of the corners of your room. If you place the rest of them in the remaining corners, will the effect activate?
It's likely something protective, though there's always a chance that this is a trap of some kind. What if it sets your room on fire - or worse?
The cat meows impatiently and struts over towards you.
"I'm supposed to just trust a random cat that showed up?"
The cat hisses.
[[You place the rune stones in the corners of your room.|Chapter7B10A]]
[[You decide to go get a book on runes and read up on what they actually do before you do anything else.|Chapter7B10B]]Another day passes by, but the delivery of those rune stones instils a distinct feeling of hope within you. Ignoring the cat, the fact that they arrived here this morning bodes well for Lester’s success. You can’t imagine that they came from anyone else, honestly, and that leads you to believe that Lester might have been able to pull this sapling heist off and is on his way back. It’s possible he’s already returned to the city and just needs to figure out how to bring the sapling into the castle. If that’s the case, he might need your help with that.
While you are guarding Az’Lean, there’s not much you can do, however. It’s on days like these, when you have other matters occupying your mind, that you realise how many hours in the day you actually spend in the prince’s presence. Always under his perceptive gaze.
As you stand guard outside of the king’s study while Az’Lean is in a private meeting with his father, the grey cat from this morning struts past you across the corridor, looking for all the world like it owns this place. It’s almost uncanny to see it here, roaming around, when you’ve never once spotted it in the castle before.
You can’t help but stare at it, wondering what its deal is. Is it Lester’s pet, or something? The cat doesn’t pay you any mind and continues walking before it ultimately disappears around a corner. How odd.
A chill runs down your spine and you look around, almost expecting Lester to show up as well, but the corridor remains empty. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, eagerly awaiting the end of this meeting. In the past during your training, you never used to have any problem with being patient or standing still for long periods of time - Vynn was always the one getting distracted - but recently, you can’t help but feel like there’s a constant buzzing of energy and emotion running through you. You can’t quite explain it, but you don’t think it's a sign of anything bad.
It takes a good while, but eventually the meeting does end. You barely listen as Az’Lean complains about his father’s reliance on the council for decision-making, but you don’t think he expects you to. It seems he’s fine with just venting his frustrations. In the end, you aren’t free of your duties until late in the evening, when you and Az’Lean finally part ways.
You hurry to your room with a pounding heart, almost awaiting the sapling to be there already, waiting to be unpacked like a birthday present. In fact, you are in such a hurry that you almost run face first into a large wooden box that someone has left standing right in front of the stairs. It’s only your fast reaction speed that lets you sidestep it in time.
“Pretty inconsiderate to just leave something like this right next to the steps,” you mutter as you consider whether to move the box somewhere else or not. It is pretty large, almost reaching up to your shoulders, and it might be too heavy for a single person to pick up.
“Yeah, well, it’s also pretty inconsiderate to send someone to pick up a package that’s literally taller than he is.”
The sudden appearance of Lester’s voice behind you almost makes you jump and fall down the stairs for real this time. You whirl around to face him, eyes lingering on the wooden box for just a moment longer.
Lester is standing there, arms resting on his hips and staring up at you with a smug, but tired smile.
“Is that…?” you ask in a whisper.
He nods slowly. “Sure is. Did you get my present this morning?”
“So that was from you, after all. Yes, I’ve already set them up in my room. I’m guessing you need a hand moving this?”
Lester glowers at the wooden box. “There was an enchantment on it to make it featherlight, but it wore off on the middle of the stairs. I was just about to get someone else to help me, but you showed up with perfect timing.”
[[“Then let’s get this thing into my room and have a chat. Just the three of us.”|Chapter7B12]]
“Don’t you mean just the <i>tree</i> of us?” Lester snickers quietly.
“You know, I was preparing this speech of gratitude for you in my head, but that might no longer be necessary.”
“No, you definitely owe me at least that much.”
The two of you grab the wooden box on either side and attempt to lift it. While you get it off the ground easily enough, Lester seems to struggle with it. You lean backwards a bit, taking on the majority of the weight, and begin slowly shuffling towards your room. The corridor is empty at the moment and you hope it stays that way. While you could easily come up with an excuse as to what you’re doing, you’d rather not draw any attention to this at all.
You set the box down once you get to your door and unlock it. As soon as the door swings open, Lester steps inside. His mouth is moving and he is obviously saying something, but you can’t hear it from outside. The rune stones seem to be working flawlessly.
Lester rejoins you outside and you pick up the box once more.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Nothing of importance, I just wanted to do a quick test.”
“Hm.” You’re not at all satisfied with that answer, but you doubt any amount of needling will get Lester to answer your question.
Once you’re inside you set the box down in the corner left of your window and proceed to lock the door behind you.
Lester begins opening the latches holding the box closed. “I hope the sapling is doing alright. It was in the dark for two days straight.”
“I suppose I’ll have to look after it from now on,” you say as the box comes apart, slowly revealing what’s inside.
The sapling is about a metre tall, with two thin branches sporting just a handful of light-green leaves. It sits in a round ceramic pot, brown and unglazed, filled with soil. It looks ordinary enough, and while it is indeed the sapling of a willow, it could very well pass as a house plant with the size it is now.
You help Lester take the box apart and set it aside, giving the sapling some space.
“Maeve, we’ve arrived,” Lester says. “Can you hear us? Do you still have a connection?”
It’s silent for a little while and you’re worried that this was all for nothing. Lester’s face grows tense and he looks like he’s about to turn on you for wasting his time and needlessly putting him in danger, when the leaves suddenly rustle even though there is no wind inside your room.
“Maeve?” you ask again. “Are you there?”
Within the blink of an eye Maeve stands next to the sapling, looking around with wide, curious eyes. “What a horrible place to live,” she says, though she sounds more delighted than horrified.
“I don’t think my room is quite <i>that</i> bad.”
Her eyes meet yours and she breaks out into a wide grin. “$playername! It worked, and now I can visit your room whenever I want! ‘Tis truly a wonder! Though I feel awfully cramped in here. That sapling will need a bigger pot very soon.”
“Glad to have you, Maeve,” you say. It slowly dawns on you that you have essentially gained a room mate, and you’re not sure how to feel about that. It would be kind of awkward if Maeve suddenly appeared in the middle of the night, or while you were changing. You’ll just have to trust her to be considerate.
You then turn to Lester. “You were successful, and you’ll have to tell me how you did it and what’s up with that grey cat, but for now: thank you, Lester. From the bottom of my heart, I truly am grateful for your help. Whatever good may come of this, you deserve a lot of credit for what you’ve already done for me.”
Lester’s smile wobbles slightly as he looks up at you. “That’s, er… You know what, maybe I don’t need to hear you express your gratitude after all. It’s a bit too sincere for my liking, and I’m not sure how to react. In any case, don’t think I’m going to forget about that favour you owe me!”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Really, I can’t thank you enough.”
“The same goes for me,” Maeve says. “I too owe you a great debt, Lester. If there is anything I could do for you in return, I would love to do it.”
Lester awkwardly scratches his beard. “Sure. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now that you’re here, there’s so much to discuss, Maeve. I’m not even sure where to start,” you say as you sit down on your bed. You pat the space next to you, inviting them to join you.
Lester makes himself comfortable on your window sill instead, but Maeve slowly lowers herself onto the edge of your bed. She runs her hands across your bed sheets with great interest. It must be an unusual material for her.
“The good thing is, we don’t have to hurry. We can take all the time we need to discuss everything we can think of. And I can answer all of your questions, and teach you about everything you want to know. Even lessons in fae magic would be no problem. After all, we can see each other every day now!”
She looks at you, her black eyes shining brightly like a polished onyx.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
[[“There is something we should probably address as soon as possible. I told someone my secret who it turns out won’t be willing to keep it. Her name is Thianne.”|Chapter7B13A]]
<<else>>
[[“You’re right. Then, why don’t we all just take a minute to relax and go with the flow.”|Chapter7B13B]]
<<endif>>\<img src="images/Chap8A.png">
<<set $Maeve to 0>>\
<<set $Lester to $Lester - 10>>\
<<set $Vynn to $Vynn - 5>>\
<<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
<<set $route to 1>>\
In the days leading up to the festival, you end up being pretty busy, though you do have one day off. Even though you could use a breather, you figure you should use it productively. There's so many things you can only do on your day off, and relaxing unfortunately isn't very high on your list.
You decide the best use of your time would be to sharpen your combat skills. It has been a while since you spent an entire day training. Back when you were a squire, the amount of time you spent honing your abilities was considerable, and you feel like you'll lose your edge if you don't devote a full day to it every once in a while.
There are still a lot of ways in which you could improve, even though you are already a master in your own right.
[[You want to work on your archery. You are lacking a bit in ranged options.|Chapter8A1A]]
[[You want to hone the skills with your favoured weapon to absolute perfection.|Chapter8A1B]]
[[You want to work on your defensive capabilities. Fighting head-on and protecting someone are different skill sets, after all.|Chapter8A1C]]The three remaining stones sit in the palm of your hand as you consider what they might be used for. Best case scenario, they might be just what you need to make your room soundproof. Would it be a stretch to say that maybe Maeve or Lester sent you these stones for that exact purpose? It is the only thing you can really think of, and it would be very convenient. Although you can't quite fathom why it was necessary to get a cat to deliver them.
With a shrug, you take the remaining three rune stones and place them in the corners of your room as well, firmly pressed against the wall. You use a bit of magic on them in order to activate them, though you can't tell if it worked. It seemed like nothing happened, or at the very least, there wasn't any kind of visual effect.
"Um, test?" you speak aloud and it sounds normal. Then again, if it is what you are hoping for, it's not supposed to muffle the noise inside of your room. You listen for a bit, but you can still hear the birds outside, so that isn't effected either.
You pick up one of your gauntlets and step outside your room, leaving the door open. With a moderate amount of force you chuck it inside, aiming at the ground in front of your bed. You clearly see the impact of the gauntlet as it hits the floor, but there's no sound at all. The cat dashes across your room in surprise, but you can't hear it hiss.
It's perfect. You'll be able to speak freely inside your room without anyone outside of it being able to listen. At the same time, you can still hear what's going on outside, so you'd be able to hear the footsteps of someone approaching your room.
The only downside you can think of is that no one will be able to hear you scream if you get attacked in your room, though that's a risk you're willing to take. You can always remove the rune stones again, if you want the effect to stop.
It would also be difficult to explain if Az'Lean or someone else stumbled upon them, so that's something else to keep in mind.
For now though, your heart is thrumming with excitement. You'll be able to discuss everything with Vynn and Lester without having to worry, and if Lester was successful, you might just keep the sapling in your room and talk to Maeve for as long as you want.
[[You can't deny that there's a certain thrill to this kind of subterfuge.|Chapter7B11]]The cat seems to sense that this might take a while, so it curls up at the foot of your bed as you leave the room.
The sun has yet to fully rise and it is hauntingly quiet on your way to the library. Once you're inside, you spot a few people who either stayed up all night or wanted to get an exceptionally early start to their day. You make your way to the help-desk, where the enchanted registry lies in wait. The leather-bound book is already open, displaying its blank pages.
You quietly whisper that you need an index on runes and their combinations, and the floating golden light that emerges from the book shows you the way.
The book it leads you to is massive, and you end up pouring over it for quite a bit until you find the runes you are looking for. They mean, in sequence, 'connect', 'sustain' and... something else. The third rune kind of looks like the one for 'music', but inverted.
If it meant 'silence', that would be very convenient. Did Maeve or Lester somehow send you these rune stones so you have a way to make your room soundproof? That is indeed exactly what you need, though you can't quite fathom why it was necessary to get a cat to deliver them.
Maybe you should go back and test them out while you have the chance - Az'Lean will be expecting you soon.
When you return to your room, you find that the cat hasn't moved from its resting place. You quickly take the remaining three rune stones and place them in the corners of your room as well, firmly pressed against the wall. You use a bit of magic on them in order to activate them, though you can't tell if it worked. It seemed like nothing happened, or at the very least, there wasn't any kind of visual effect.
"Um, test?" you speak aloud and it sounds normal. Then again, it's not supposed to muffle the noise inside of your room. You listen for a bit, but you can still hear the bird song outside, so that isn't effected either.
You pick up one of your gauntlets and step outside your room, leaving the door open. With a moderate amount of force you chuck it inside, aiming at the ground in front of your bed. You clearly see the impact of the gauntlet as it hits the floor, but there's no sound at all. The cat jumps up in surprise, but you can't hear it hiss.
It's perfect. You'll be able to speak freely inside your room without anyone outside of it being able to listen in. At the same time, you can still hear what's going on outside, so you'd be able to hear the footsteps of someone approaching your room.
The only downside you can think of is that no one will be able to hear you scream if you get attacked in your room, though that's a risk you're willing to take. You can always remove the rune stones again, if you want the effect to stop.
It would also be difficult to explain if Az'Lean or someone else stumbled upon them, so that's something else to keep in mind.
For now though, your heart is thrumming with excitement. You'll be able to discuss everything with Vynn and Lester without having to worry, and if Lester was successful, you might just keep the sapling in your room and talk to Maeve for as long as you want.
[[You can't deny that there's a certain thrill to this kind of subterfuge.|Chapter7B11]]Maeve suddenly stands up, towering over you, her hair almost brushing against the ceiling.
“And why would you do that?” she asks, fury shining behind her black eyes. “Is this some kind of joke?”
You didn’t expect her to react that strongly, openly displaying her emotions and her displeasure. From the corner of your eye you notice Lester shrinking in on himself and it makes you realise that Maeve is almost twice his size. She’s powerful and dangerous, and you have invited her forever into your room.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought she’d be trustworthy and understanding, but I was wrong.”
Maeve deflates a little. It seems she can’t stay mad at you for long. “‘Tis a problem, in any case. Go on then, give me the details.”
You fill Maeve in on what exactly transpired between you and Thianne, and you tell her what you know about who Thianne is and her relation to Az’Lean. With every word, Maeve’s expression changes. Sometimes darkening, sometimes brightening back up again - lightning strikes in a thunderstorm.
“I see,” Maeve says once you’re finished. “In the end, you have a few choices. You can do nothing, you can tell Az’Lean about yourself and face the consequences, you can kill her, you can try to convince her to change her mind, or you can try to use magic to erase her memory.”
“Something like that is possible?” Lester asks. He sounds unsettled by the idea.
“Sure enough. Altering memories is very high level fae magic, so I don’t know if $playername could do it, but it’s not impossible. Then again, she might have written the information down or thought of some other kind of failsafe in case you tried something like this.” Maeve shrugs.
“Well, there’s no way you’re going to kill her,” Lester says with utmost finality. “That’s not something I’d stand for, and besides, there’s a non-zero chance that they’d suspect <i>me</i>. I know there’s some people who would just love to pin something like that on me.”
“It’s not like I would kill her just like that,” you say. It’s your fault for telling her in the first place. It’s not like she asked to be your enemy. “I think just wiping her memory of those few minutes would be ideal. If she wrote the information down anywhere, that'd be a problem, but one that could be handled in other ways.”
“How does that very convenient memory altering magic work?” Lester asks Maeve.
“It’s a ritual you have to perform. Basically, you need the person’s blood, a star chart, a sun dial, the correct array of runes, and a considerable amount of magical ability. The idea is that you use the blood to specify the person and the star chart and sun dial to specify the day and time. Then, depending on how strong your magic is, you can erase a certain period of time from her memories.”
“I don’t remember the exact minute I told her,” you say with a frown. “I’d have to get rid of that entire evening. Won’t she wonder about that?”
Lester barks a laugh. “No way. Thianne barely has any concept of time anyway, especially not when she’s pulling all-nighters. Even if she does notice, nothing would tie it to you, right?”
“It’s always a gamble,” Maeve says. “That’s what makes it fun.”
It doesn’t sound all that reliable to you. Who knows if you would even be able to pull it off...
“Could you be the one to do it?” you ask Maeve.
She smiles a most wicked smile. “I could, but I’m not going to. This is your mess to fix.”
“So much for solidarity and alliance.” Lester rolls his eyes. “I think you’re lying, Maeve. You want $playername to do it, sure, but you’d help if it really came down to the wire.”
“No need to expose her hidden feelings like that. I figured as much,” you say, trying to sound confident. In reality, you might really have to rely on Maeve to get you out of this situation if all else fails. She might just be holding your life in her hands, and it gets your heart racing.
Maeve shrugs and finally sits back down on your bed. “We can discuss the details later. Let’s talk about something else for now. What does your schedule look like, $playername? I’d like to know at which times you’ll be in this room.”
You briefly lay out at which times you’re with Az’Lean, when you usually get back at night, and when your day off is. You end your explanation with: “I might be a bit busier from here on due to the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival.”
[[Maeve’s black eyes begin to shine. “Festival?”|Chapter7B14]]
Maeve smiles brightly as she continues looking around your room. “I never imagined I would enjoy being in such an enclosed space, but I have to say, there is something comfortable about this.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is cozy,” Lester says. “It’s very different from your grove, that’s for sure.”
You immediately perk up at that. “You have to tell me about your trip, Lester. I was worried that something would happen, but you made it back in one piece.”
Lester leans his head against the window. “Honestly, it was laughably easy. I usually get sent on errands all across the kingdom, so I know my way around and have a good number of connections. Instead of playing sick, I came up with the lie that I had to deliver something for the production of magical barrier devices that’s going on right now, grabbed one of our enchanted light-weight boxes and got on the next carriage heading east.”
“How did you find the grove?” you ask.
“It turns out we have a mutual friend,” Maeve explains. “Since we’re confined in our grove, us dryads rely heavily on other fae conducting deliveries for us. A good friend of mine, a Leanan Sidhe, usually procures human-made products from the border regions for us. Turns out he knows Lester.”
“All I had to do was ask around. There’s only so many dryad groves, and it turns out Maeve is pretty well known.” Lester shrugs. “Even knowing where it was, getting there was a bit of a challenge. I don’t usually venture too far into the fae lands. They don’t affect me like they would a human, but there’s some strange stuff in there.”
Maeve gasps in mock offence. “What? Now that’s just uncalled for.”
You shoot Lester a questioning look.
“All kinds of weird mushrooms and magical beasts - things like that. There also aren’t any roads or sign posts, so it’s easy to get lost,” Lester says.
Colourful imagery rushes through your mind. “That sounds interesting. If I had more than only one day a week off, I’d love to go see it for myself. I wish I could visit your grove, too.”
Maeve beams at you. “You are welcome any time, $playername. We would love to have you as a guest. One day you’ll be able to see it, I promise you that.”
You return Maeve’s smile before turning back to Lester. “So then, you just grabbed a sapling and carried it back here?”
“Pretty much. They did check it when I entered Gaitanis, but it’s just a tree, so why would anyone care? As for my lie… The production of magical barrier devices is such an unorganised mess that I doubt anyone will care to follow up on that. In the end you could say everything went off without a hitch. Don’t forget you owe me though, alright?”
“I’m sure you’ll remind me every single day from now on.”
Lester smirks. “Damn right. Gotta keep you on your toes, $playername.”
You let out a long sigh. “As if working for Az’Lean wasn’t enough, now I have a second boss as well, apparently.”
“Speaking of all that… What does your schedule look like, $playername? I’d like to know at which times you’ll be in this room.” Maeve makes a sweeping gesture from left to right. It looks oddly theatrical.
You briefly lay out at which times you’re with Az’Lean, when you usually get back at night, and when your day off is. You end your explanation with: “I might be a bit busier from here on due to the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival.”
[[Maeve’s black eyes begin to shine. “Festival?”|Chapter7B14]]“He’ll probably want to speak with you alone, to start with,” Vynn says as the two of you leave your chambers. “But I’ll be close by. If he needs my account for anything, call me over.”
“Right,” you say with as much confidence as you can muster. “If he decides not to forgive me, then-”
Vynn’s eyes darken. “That won’t happen. It better not.”
“Right,” you say again, your voice already feeling strained even though you’ve barely talked at all this morning.
The two of you reach Az’Lean’s chambers. Standing here in front of the wooden doors, you feel like you’re staring down a dragon. But then again, a knight would be fearless in that kind of situation. You are decidedly not fearless, but you take some satisfaction in knowing that you’re not shaking and that every muscle in your face is casually relaxed. If you can’t be without fear, then at the very least you can push through it.
You knock, sharply, forcing yourself to keep breathing. It’s tempting to hold your breath in anticipation, but you know it’ll muddy your senses.
Az’Lean immediately throws open his door. He is wearing his black armour, and by the look on his face he hasn’t slept a wink either. His gaze is completely neutral, not giving anything away, as he regards you and Vynn.
His brows furrow. “Chev Hollowpeann?”
Vynn forces a smile. “I figured out what’s going on with $playername, yesterday. So if you need my opinion on the matter, I’ll be waiting outside.”
“You figured it out? By yourself?” Az’Lean asks.
Vynn’s smile turns sharp. “That is correct.”
“Fine then. I need someone to guard the door, anyway,” Az’Lean says dismissively. “Wait outside.”
“As his majesty wishes,” Vynn says.
It feels like stepping into a dragon’s nest as you cross the threshold into Az’Lean’s chambers and the door falls closed behind you, separating you from the safety of Vynn’s presence.
You force yourself to look forward and face Az’Lean - and whatever he has in store for you.
He is still looking at you as if he has trouble tearing his gaze away. Is he on guard? Or is he simply monitoring your expression, trying to read you?
“$playername,” Az’Lean says, and as soon as he does it feels like the mask of neutrality he had so carefully erected begins to crack, showing pain and uncertainty underneath. “Let’s have a seat.”
“Of course.”
You expect him to lead you over to his desk, but surprisingly enough Az’Lean sits down at the edge of his bed, beckoning you to join him. That must be a good sign, right? You cautiously follow him and take a seat atop the soft, silken covers, making sure to keep the appropriate amount of distance between you.
Az’Lean doesn’t face you, instead staring straight ahead. It probably makes it easier for him to voice his thoughts.
“I have thought a lot about what you told me two days ago. I have tried to… come to terms with it, in a way. There are a few things I figured out relatively quickly. One, I cannot blame you for not knowing the truth earlier. You have lived as $playername Grahm, and I believe you when you say you grew up as a human would.”
He speaks calmly, and the tone of his voice is carefully controlled to sound as neutral as possible. Still, you notice that he almost has to force the words out at certain points. He continues: “Two, while I would have preferred not being confronted with this, the fact that you decided to tell me the truth was a good thing. The alternative would have been much, much worse. That said, the past is in the past, what we do need to worry about is your… future, within this kingdom.”
You quietly take in his words, trying to parse their meaning - trying not to get your hopes up.
“I understand. Do you think there is one?” you ask carefully.
“That’s the question, isn’t it? The lawful thing to do would be to exile you.”
“But…?”
Az’Lean finally turns to look at you, a pinched expression on his face. “Well, it’s not the only option. I could decide to keep your secret. If the truth got out anyway, I’d simply feign ignorance. Another option would be to relieve you of your duties, but let you remain in Grahm territory.”
“You sound like you haven’t decided yet. I daren’t be hopeful, but I’ll say this: I don’t wish for you or any other person in this kingdom to come to harm. It is still my wish to protect you, and if you allow me to further prove my loyalty to you as your Champion, I won’t disappoint you.” You fight the urge to reach out to him, hoping that your words get through to him instead. You’re trying to be sincere, and he <i>has</i> to see that.
There’s a moment of silence as Az’Lean seems to think deeply. You notice the darkness in his eyes as he keeps looking at you - his gaze is almost too much to bear, but you remain steadfast and meet it head on. Is this how he will always look at you from now on? Or will you be able to find that softness again that he had shown you before?
“Let me put it this way, $playername. You’re on somewhat of a probation - on thin ice, in other words - but I will allow you to stay for now. However, I will keep a sharp eye on you and won’t tolerate any kind of suspicious behaviour.”
It does sound like it won’t be easy to win his full trust back, but the fact that he is letting you stay is already proof enough that you mean something to him, surely. It feels a bit like you each have a tight grip in the other’s heart - a most painful stalemate.
“I understand. That seems like a fair deal to me.”
“There is one more condition,” Az’Lean says, slowly drawing out the words. “I am the only one who gets to decide when and how to best use your powers to aid the kingdom. I was thinking about it yesterday and came to the conclusion that I should view this as an opportunity.”
Az’Lean moves closer to you, watching you intently. His hand, clad in black steel, comes to rest softly against your cheek. It burns. You bear it.
“I’ll use you to the fullest, $playername.”
You’re not certain whether it’s a promise, or a threat - it makes you tense up in anticipation either way. The moment passes as quickly as it began and Az’Lean puts distance between you once more, his hand falling to his side.
Truthfully, you can’t promise that you won’t be using your powers on your own, or that you’ll be able to agree with every single order Az’Lean will give you. After all, your sights are set on more than just protecting the kingdom - the fae are your people too. It might be greedy to want to have both, to want everyone to be safe and at peace, but it is your will.
So while you can’t abide by Az’Lean’s condition and might have to go behind his back at times, you are being truthful when you say:
[[“I only have your best interests at heart, Az’Lean. I promise.”|Chapter7C2A]]
<<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
You and Vynn part ways, both of you returning to a state of normality. Az’Lean is already waiting for you when you get to his room.
As you accompany him to the meeting and his other daily obligations, you can’t help but feel like you’re keeping something from him, even though you haven’t even done anything yet. You haven’t even spoken to Maeve yet - all you’ve done so far is decide things in your head and discuss those thoughts with Vynn. There’s no way wishing for peace is a traitorous thought to have, right?
Even something as trivial as small talk feels heavy, like a balancing act. You want Az’Lean to trust you, to listen to you and value your input, but it has to be genuine. You don’t want to lie to him or manipulate him, because any peace built on that would be brittle.
You know you are being arrogant when you think you even have the ability to influence him and the kingdom that much, but it’s not like you’re not used to dreaming big. Still, you have to remind yourself to take everything one day at a time. For now, it should be enough to protect Az’Lean by day and get in touch with Maeve by night.
“You seem preoccupied,” Az’Lean says as the two of you cross the courtyard on your way back from a quick training session. “Did something happen yesterday? I hope your parents are doing well.”
“They’re healthy and in good spirits, though I get the feeling that they spend a lot of time worrying about me,” you answer, your voice turning soft. “I miss them again already, though they’ll probably be here for the festival.”
“That’s good to hear. I hope you’ll be able to spend time with them.” There’s something wistful in Az’Lean’s eyes as he says it.
“You’d be welcome to join in. My parents would be honoured by your presence,” you say. You trust them to be able to keep your secret, so you have no concerns about them talking to Az’Lean. Besides, the festival is likely to be a prime time for another assassination attempt, and there’s no way you’re leaving Az’Lean on his own when you don’t need to.
Az’Lean seems to have come to the same conclusion. “Is that an invitation born of the desire to bring me closer to your family or is it born out of concern for my safety?”
“I’d say it’s both. I won’t just stop caring about protecting you because it’s my day off.”
“That sounds like quite the occupational hazard.”
“I think it’s more of a personal conviction.”
Az’Lean averts his gaze, seemingly uncomfortable. “I do believe that.”
[[Ask him again why he didn’t want a Champion, and if he’s changed his mind now.|Chapter7C2B]]
[[Let the conversation end here.|Chapter7C2C]]It is a more complex truth than Az’Lean will be able to realise right now, but you know there will come a day when he’ll appreciate your choice. There will come a day when humans and fae can simply exist without having to fight against each other. There will come a day when you can rest easy, knowing that you tried to do what’s best.
“I’ll keep you to that promise, $playername. Now, I’m sure Hollowpeann is still waiting outside. I’ll let you go and tell them about what we discussed, and after that we’ll have to get back to work. There’s another meeting regarding the festival preparations today,” Az’Lean says with a sigh. “Not looking forward to it.”
And just like that, it seems that things have more or less returned to normal. You step outside for a bit and quietly recount your conversation with Az’Lean to Vynn.
“At least he intends to keep it to himself for now,” they say ultimately. Vynn doesn’t seem too happy with this outcome, but it is honestly all you can realistically hope for. “We should probably both get back to our duties, but let me know if you need me for anything.”
“Right. Let’s lay low for now, I’ll come see you once I’ve had a chance to talk to <i>her</i>,” you say, just barely stopping yourself from saying Maeve’s name. Az’Lean is just beyond that door and he did promise to keep a close eye on you. It is entirely possible that he’s listening in on you right now.
“I understand,” Vynn says immediately. Both of you are smart, maybe you can figure out a way to speak in code from now on, or something like that.
“Then I guess I’ll see you around, Vynn.”
“Make sure not to get stuck in your own head,” Vynn reminds you before they leave to return to their own duties and you join back up with Az’Lean.
As you accompany him to the meeting and his other daily obligations, you can’t help but feel like you’re keeping something from him, even though you haven’t even done anything yet. You haven’t even spoken to Maeve yet - all you’ve done so far is decide things in your head and discuss those thoughts with Vynn. There’s no way wishing for peace is a traitorous thought to have, right?
Even something as trivial as small talk feels heavy, like a balancing act. You want Az’Lean to trust you, to listen to you and value your input, but it has to be genuine. You don’t want to lie to him or manipulate him, because any peace built on that would be brittle.
You know you are being arrogant when you think you even have the ability to influence him and the kingdom that much, but it’s not like you’re not used to dreaming big. Still, you have to remind yourself to take everything one day at a time. For now, it should be enough to protect Az’Lean by day and get in touch with Maeve by night.
The day passes by mostly uneventfully. You spend the majority of it planning the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival, discussing security measures and all manner of logistics. It sounds like this year’s festival is going to be especially packed.
Sometime after dinner, you drop Az’Lean off at his room before returning to your own. It will take some time for the sun to set, and you take a moment to enjoy your solitude. It feels like you haven’t been alone with your thoughts in a while - for better or for worse.
For a moment, you consider sneaking off into the gardens tonight in the hopes of contacting Maeve, but you end up deciding against it. You only just got back today and need to catch up on sleep, not to mention the fact that you should probably lay low.
You wonder whether you should go and visit the magical laboratory instead. At this point, they have probably finished their autopsy of the changeling and you’d love to know what they found out. It is actually somewhat surprising that Az’Lean hasn’t mentioned anything about that at all, so maybe they haven't figured anything out after all. It wouldn’t hurt to go and check though.
Another thing you could do is spend some time in the library. There are a lot of questions about the conflict between humans and fae that you feel haven’t been adequately answered to you. It might do you some good to research the exact wording of the history on humanity’s side so you can compare it with what Maeve can tell you. You imagine both sides will be biased in some way, but if you want to prevent this from turning into a full-on war, you’ll need to figure out the truth of the matter.
[[For now, you decide to go to the magical laboratory. It shouldn’t take long to check on their progress with the autopsy.|Chapter7C3A]]
[[You decide to go and get some books from the library. Once you have them in your room, you’ll be able to study them at your leisure.|Chapter7C3B]]
“I know you said you never wanted to have a Champion because you don’t like the idea of someone risking their life for you, but… Is that all it was? If you were to be honest, would you rather I weren’t by your side?”
It is a heavy question to ask and you know that, but you don’t regret voicing it. If Az’Lean doesn’t want to answer you won’t pry, or if he offers up some shallow lie you won’t call him out on it. But if there is something about it that he can share with you, you need to know.
Az’Lean’s gaze is tired when he looks at you. “It makes sense that you’d be wondering. Let me make one thing clear: your company is pleasant and I have no problem at all with you being here. I even like knowing that there is someone I can ask for help, someone reliable. It doesn’t, however, change the fact of the matter that I wouldn’t want you to die for me. It is a simple principle, and that isn’t going to change. At the same time, I know it is an inevitability. My father’s Champion was dead before I was born and he never bothered nominating a new one.”
He stops walking and turns to you. “Isn’t it a cruel thing? Spending most of your waking hours with someone, knowing that you’ll eventually cause their death?”
Something heavy wraps around your heart. “If something were to happen to me, it wouldn’t be your fault. I’m here of my own volition.”
Az’Lean shakes his head. “Are you?”
He resumes walking in faster strides than before and you get the feeling he’s trying to get away - from you and from this conversation.
You follow a few steps behind him, pondering his words.
Az’Lean is scared of getting attached to someone. It isn’t surprising, considering that he lost his mother. What you can’t help but wonder about, however, is his insistence to blame himself.
<i>Are you here of your own volition?</i> What did he mean by that? Did he mean that it was your parents that raised you to aim for this position, or something deeper than that?
A cold shudder runs through you, and you decide not to dwell on it for now.
The rest of the day passes by mostly uneventfully. You spend the majority of it planning the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival, discussing security measures and all manner of logistics. It sounds like this year’s festival is going to be especially packed.
Sometime after dinner, you drop Az’Lean off at his room before returning to your own. It will take some time for the sun to set and you take a moment to enjoy your solitude. It feels like you haven’t been alone with your thoughts in a while - for better or for worse.
For a moment, you consider sneaking off into the gardens tonight in the hopes of contacting Maeve, but you end up deciding against it. You only just got back today and need to catch up on sleep, not to mention the fact that you should probably lay low.
You wonder whether you should go and visit the magical laboratory instead. At this point, they have probably finished their autopsy of the changeling and you’d love to know what they found out. It is actually somewhat surprising that Az’Lean hasn’t mentioned anything about that at all, so maybe they haven't figured out anything after all. It wouldn’t hurt to go and check though.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>Then there’s Thianne to worry about. She might be in the laboratory, which could give you a chance to talk to her. The question is whether you’d even want to do that. Maybe you should come up with a plan on what to do before going to see her. You wouldn’t want to give her any reason to go ahead with her threat to reveal your secret to Az’Lean.<<endif>>\
Another thing you could do is spend some time in the library. There are a lot of questions about the conflict between humans and fae that you feel haven’t been adequately answered to you. It might do you some good to research the exact wording of the history on humanity’s side so you can compare it with what Maeve can tell you. You imagine both sides will be biased in some way, but if you want to prevent this from turning into a full-on war, you’ll need to figure out the truth of the matter.
[[For now, you decide to go to the magical laboratory. It shouldn’t take long to check on their progress with the autopsy.|Chapter7C3A]]
[[You decide to go and get some books from the library. Once you have them in your room, you’ll be able to study them at your leisure.|Chapter7C3B]]
You decide it’s not your place to pry any further. Not to mention the fact that you’re both on duty right now, and the middle of the courtyard really isn’t the place for any heartfelt, meaningful discussions.
Instead, you launch into telling a short story about the last time your parents had been here for the Summer Solstice Festival, and how your father had gotten heatstroke because he, as always, refused to part with his furs.
Az’Lean listens attentively and seems to welcome the chance to let himself be distracted.
The rest of the day passes by mostly uneventfully. You spend the majority of it in meetings, planning the festival, discussing security measures and all manner of logistics. It sounds like this year’s festival is going to be especially packed.
Sometime after dinner, you drop Az’Lean off at his room before returning to your own. It will take some time for the sun to set and you take a moment to enjoy your solitude. It feels like you haven’t been alone with your thoughts in a while - for better or for worse.
For a moment, you consider sneaking off into the gardens tonight in the hopes of contacting Maeve, but you end up deciding against it. You only just got back today and need to catch up on sleep, not to mention the fact that you should probably lay low.
You wonder whether you should go and visit the magical laboratory instead. At this point, they have probably finished their autopsy of the changeling and you’d love to know what they found out. It is actually somewhat surprising that Az’Lean hasn’t mentioned anything about that at all, so maybe they haven't figured out anything after all. It wouldn’t hurt to go and check though.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>Then there’s Thianne to worry about. She might be in the laboratory, which could give you a chance to talk to her. The question is whether you’d even want to do that. Maybe you should come up with a plan on what to do before going to see her. You wouldn’t want to give her any reason to go ahead with her threat to reveal your secret to Az’Lean.<<endif>>\
Another thing you could do is spend some time in the library. There are a lot of questions about the conflict between humans and fae that you feel haven’t been adequately answered to you. It might do you some good to research the exact wording of the history on humanity’s side so you can compare it with what Maeve can tell you. You imagine both sides will be biased in some way, but if you want to prevent this from turning into a full-on war, you’ll need to figure out the truth of the matter.
[[For now, you decide to go to the magical laboratory. It shouldn’t take long to check on their progress with the autopsy.|Chapter7C3A]]
[[You decide to go and get some books from the library. Once you have them in your room, you’ll be able to study them at your leisure.|Chapter7C3B]]
You doubt that they’ll just have that changeling’s corpse lying around when you get there, but you mentally prepare yourself just in case.
The library is quiet and almost deserted when you pass through it. The warm weather must have drawn a lot of people outside. It is almost summer and you wonder how stuffy it will get inside these castle walls by then.
Unlike the library, the magical laboratory is showing a bit more activity. A quick glance once you enter shows that Thianne isn’t here, but you spot Head Sorcerer Birch and a few others. There’s no trace of the changeling’s corpse to be seen and you can feel a bit of tension leaving you. Though it does beg the question what they’ll do with it once they’re finished investigating. You doubt a fae would get any sort of proper burial.
“If it isn’t the Champion! Greetings,” Birch says as they spot you. As always their eyes are hidden behind their fringe, but they are smiling brightly. “Wanting to do some research of your own? Or are you looking for Thianne?”
“I’m actually here to inquire on the status of the changeling’s autopsy. I don’t expect an official report on the behest of the prince, or anything. I was just curious if you have found anything out yet,” you say.
Birch’s smile tightens a little. “I do understand your curiosity, though I hope you won’t be disappointed in my inability to satisfy it. As far as the cause of death is concerned, we haven’t made much progress.”
“So you’ve found out nothing at all?”
“Well, there isn’t any kind of fatal wound, for starters. Just minor injuries and old scars. Whatever killed them was likely magical in nature, which makes it hard to pin down without any kind of lead. We’ll have to simply test for anything we can think of, and that might take some more time.” Birch shrugs in resignation.
“I suppose that makes sense. So we can’t tell whether someone else killed them or they committed suicide.”
“That’s right. We did find traces of glamour and healing magic, but that was likely used to hide their scars more than anything.”
Now that catches your attention. Would a changeling be so vain as to hide their scars when untransformed? That would only make sense if they spent a lot of time in their original form, when those scars would even be visible. They could just transform into someone without scars, right? But they chose to try and hide them with magic instead? Curious.
“Thank you for telling me at least this much,” you say. “I suppose I’ll have to be patient and wait for the official report.”
Birch scratches their head. “I hope we’ll be done with this soon. It is all very puzzling, to say the least.”
[[Ask what they will do with the body once they are done.|Chapter7C4A]]
[[End the conversation here. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything more you can learn right now.|Chapter7C4B]]
If you want to have any hope of stopping this conflict between humans and fae, you need to figure out what really caused it in the first place. It might just boil down to disputes about land ownership, but you get the feeling that the animosity runs deeper than that.
The library is quiet and almost deserted when you get there. The warm weather must have drawn a lot of people outside. It is almost summer and you wonder how stuffy it will get inside these castle walls by then.
You make your way to the help-desk where the enchanted registry lies in wait. The leather-bound book is already open, displaying its blank pages.
You quietly whisper that you need books on history, and the floating golden light that emerges from the registry shows you the way to quite a few different shelves. There’s no point in overdoing it, so you grab just a handful of books - markedly written by historians from different time periods and under the rule of different monarchs.
Whatever is contained in these books will always be biased in some form of way, but the larger your selection is, the more you can spot inconsistencies or facts that stand out.
In the end, you borrow four books:
“The Gaiapeia Family through the Ages” by Armin Theeves,
“A most thorough and chronological recounting of the founding of Gaiapeia” by Lina Reiss,
“Wars and Conflicts in Gaiapeia’s History” by Theontin The Scholar,
and “The History of Gaiapeia” by Sigurd Ashbrooke, which is the book Thianne was reading back when you first met her.
Once you return to your room, you deposit the books next to your bed and make yourself comfortable. First, you flick through “The Gaiapeia Family through the Ages”, though it proves to be not the sort of book you were looking for. There’s a lot about noble families, marriages, and affairs. At first glance, it seems more like a book about old gossip and scandals, so you put it aside for now.
“A most thorough and chronological recounting of the founding of Gaiapeia” looks promising, but it is quite thick and old - there must be over a thousand fragile yellow pages. It might take a while to get through it all.
“Wars and Conflicts in Gaiapeia’s History” is considerably shorter and more modern. It looks like it might be a quick and easy read. However, there seem to be quite a few events that were skimmed over.
“The History of Gaiapeia” looks like it is the most complete option. If Thianne was reading it, you have no doubt it is reputable. You make the decision to save it for last and set it aside, as well.
It is already late and you still have some sleep to catch up on, but you can at least get started.
[[You start with reading “A most thorough and chronological recounting of the founding of Gaiapeia”|Chapter7C4C]]
[[You start with reading “Wars and Conflicts in Gaiapeia’s History”|Chapter7C4D]]
“There’s one more thing I wanted to ask. What do you plan on doing with the body once you’ve finished investigating it?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
Birch shifts from foot to foot in excitement. “I heard we’ll get to conserve it! We have already drawn quite a bit of blood to put aside - I’d be interested in seeing whether changeling blood contains iron the same way human blood does. If that’s the case, imagine making blood steel out of fae blood! Would it work? Would it harm them the same way human blood steel does? Ah, I can’t wait to find out!”
They’ll be using it for experiments and as a resource. It’s neither surprising nor what you wanted to hear. You suppose the body being useful is better than it getting dumped somewhere, but still.
“Sounds like you’ll make good work of it. In any case, I’ll leave you to it,” you say with a polite smile.
Birch sends you off with the invitation to come back anytime and you decide to leave the lab for now. You suppose there wasn’t really any point in coming here - of course they haven’t found anything yet, if they had you would have known about it. Nevertheless, at least you confirmed what you already suspected - that the changeling died through some sort of magic, and likely fae magic at that.
Maybe once you know what exactly happened to them, you could ask Maeve about it as well.
You make your way to your room, trying not to think too far ahead. There are many things you could be doing right now, but what you should be doing is getting some sleep. There will be enough time to meet up with Maeve later this week. With the changeling incident happening only two days ago, security is at an all time high, which might not even make it possible for you to be alone in the gardens.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> Figuring out what to do about Thianne might be the more pressing issue, though you doubt she’d spill your secret without further prompting. If that was her intention, she would have gone to Az’Lean immediately. No, you know that she’s giving you a chance for now, though of course there will be a limit to her patience.
As you see it, there are three ways this could go. Either you tell Az’Lean your secret, she tells Az’Lean your secret, or you can somehow convince or force her to keep it.
If you would want to tell Az’Lean about it, now really isn’t the best time. Not when a changeling attacked mere days ago. Thinking about it like this, maybe you should just ask Thianne for more time.
You do know that you’ll have to come clean eventually if the plan is for Az’Lean to be more accepting of the fae. There’s no way you can encourage peace without giving him a convincing reason and being truthful yourself.
Maybe you could make a promise with Thianne to wait until after the festival before telling him. Let him forget about the changeling’s attack and put him in a more joyous mood - that might be the way to go about it.
In any case, you won’t make any such decision today.<<endif>>\
For now, what you should be focusing on is getting some sleep. Nothing more.
On your way back through the library, you do end up picking up one book at least, even if you won’t have the time to read it right now. It’s the book Thianne had been reading when you first met her:
[[“The History of Gaiapeia” by Sigurd Ashbrooke.|Chapter7C5]]
“Then I’ll leave you to your work,” you say with a polite smile.
Birch sends you off with the invitation to come back anytime and you decide to leave the lab for now. You suppose there wasn’t really any point in coming here - of course they haven’t found anything yet, if they had you would have known about it. Nevertheless, at least you confirmed what you already suspected - that the changeling died through some sort of magic, and likely fae magic at that.
Maybe once you know what exactly happened to them, you could ask Maeve about it as well.
You make your way to your room, trying not to think too far ahead. There are many things you could be doing right now, but what you should be doing is getting some sleep. There will be enough time to meet up with Maeve later this week. With the changeling incident happening only two days ago, security is at an all time high, which might not even make it possible for you to be alone in the gardens.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> Figuring out what to do about Thianne might be the more pressing issue, though you doubt she’d spill your secret without further prompting. If that was her intention, she would have gone to Az’Lean immediately. No, you know that she’s giving you a chance for now, though of course there will be a limit to her patience.
As you see it, there are three ways this could go. Either you tell Az’Lean your secret, she tells Az’Lean your secret, or you can somehow convince or force her to keep it.
If you would want to tell Az’Lean about it, now really isn’t the best time. Not when a changeling attacked mere days ago. Thinking about it like this, maybe you should just ask Thianne for more time.
You do know that you’ll have to come clean eventually if the plan is for Az’Lean to be more accepting of the fae. There’s no way you can encourage peace without giving him a convincing reason and being truthful yourself.
Maybe you could make a promise with Thianne to wait until after the festival before telling him. Let him forget about the changeling’s attack and put him in a more joyous mood - that might be the way to go about it.
In any case, you won’t make any such decision today.<<endif>>\
For now, what you should be focusing on is getting some sleep. Nothing more.
On your way back through the library, you do end up picking up one book at least, even if you won’t have the time to read it right now. It’s the book Thianne had been reading when you first met her:
[[“The History of Gaiapeia” by Sigurd Ashbrooke.|Chapter7C5]]!!!Year 929, 28th of the Cherry Moon
You wake up early the next day, feeling refreshed and full of energy. When you leave your room to go join up with Az'Lean, you're surprised to see Vynn standing around in the corridor, looking like they have been waiting for you to show up.
“Good morning, $playername. Listen up, I don’t have much time, but there’s something I wanted to let you know. I have been assigned a late shift for tonight's patrol across the castle grounds, and I’ll probably spend some time circling around the gardens. It’s supposed to be a lovely summer’s night with clear skies, so maybe it would be a good time for you to do some stargazing,” they say.
“So you’re saying there might be less disturbances tonight?”
Vynn frowns. “Tough to say. This time of year, there might be people out on a stroll even in the middle of the night. I would say it’s worth a try, though.”
You suppose you can always just go to the gardens and see for yourself whether it’s a good time to contact Maeve or not. Though Vynn being the one in charge of the gardens tonight might be the best chance you’ll get for a while.
“Thanks for letting me know,” you say. “I suppose I’ll see when I get there.”
Vynn salutes you with a smile before heading off, leaving you to knock on Az’Lean’s door and get to today’s duties.
There’s not much planned, so you spend a while in Az’Lean’s room, doing not much more than lounging around and watching him do paperwork. Despite everything that has been going on, it is somewhat relaxing.
“$playername, would you mind letting a servant in the kitchens know that we’ll be eating lunch in my room today?” Az’Lean says after a while.
“On it.” You’re more than happy to go and stretch your legs for a little bit, though at the same time you don’t want to leave Az’Lean alone for longer than necessary. The last time you did that, another changeling tried to get to him, after all.
Once you reach the kitchens, you look for a servant that doesn’t seem too occupied at the moment. A head of red hair catches your eye - Lester is leaning idly against a wall, yawning into his hand.
[[Go talk to him.|Chapter7C6A]]
[[Look for another servant. Even if you tell Lester where Az’Lean wants to eat his lunch, there’s a good chance he’ll conveniently forget to bring it. Or worse.|Chapter7C6B]]
You make sure to take everything you read with a grain of salt and note down some particularly interesting passages:
<i>Gaiapeia was founded in the year 50 of the Gaiapeian calendar by B’neighla Gaiapeia, later named The Progenitor Queen. Year 0 instead marks the day any sentient being first set foot on the continent. It was a large vessel that had managed to cross the southern seas and arrive on this continent. On board was a large number of humans and fae, most notably, however, was the Gaiapeia family, who travelled to the very centre of the continent to settle down there. Other human groups and fae settled in other parts of the land. However, the Gaiapeia family soon became the most advanced settlement, and the more people crossed the ocean to get here, the more they settled in the centre of the continent as well.
After 50 years, the Gaiapeia family officially named the continent and claimed the settlement they had created as theirs. It wasn’t intended to be a kingdom to begin with, but the people worshipped B’neighla for her strong connection to the Gods and named her their Queen. At the time, they believed that she had survived a journey to the Otherworld, which allowed her to come into direct contact with the Gods and learn some of their wisdom. There is no evidence to support these claims.
The reason for settling in the centre of the continent as opposed to the coast is likely the abundance of coal and ore deposits. While the fae had no use for them, the Gaiapeia family recognised their worth and utilised them. Not only were they able to utilise these resources for their own development, but it allowed them to trade with other continents. However, settling in the middle of the continent would also prove to be a detriment. Soon, the fae would spread across all of the surrounding lands. With their longevity and superior magic, they could thrive even in the harshest wilds. Due to the fae’s influence, these lands changed and became uninhabitable for humans.
While fae could live amongst humans, humans could no longer live amongst the fae. This also limited their ability to reach their ports and further their trade. Queen B’neighla was able to keep the peace during her reign and passed in the year 68.</i>
You stop reading for a bit. While you can’t verify whether any of this is true so far, it does sound plausible. The root of the conflict might be simply that humans are unable to live in the fae lands, and so they felt the need to better secure their own territory. There’s also the matter of both groups arriving on the continent at the same time. You suppose it’s possible, but it does seem a little convenient.
One question does bother you. Would people really settle in the middle of a large continent like this for resources alone? Wouldn’t it make more sense to settle on the coast first, and then expand towards the middle? It almost seems like the Gaiapeia family knew exactly where these ores would be, but how is that possible?
You skim ahead a bit. There’s some information about bridges and roads being built, about noble families being established, and about advancement in technology and magic.
One thing does catch your eyes:
<i>In 672, the first ports of Gaiapeia were being lost to the fae. It is unclear whether the fae deliberately settled near the ports to make them uninhabitable to humans or whether it was an unfortunate development of a rising number of fae that could only live in or near water, such as selkies or water sprites. One thing to note is that the fae have no interest in international trade, so the loss of these ports must not have been of much concern to them. There was an effort to retake some of the ports in 679 that ended in violent altercations. Some historians believe this to be the start of the general tensions evolving to consistent and cyclical skirmishes.</i>
You know that by now, Gaiapeia only has access to a single port, Port Valour, on the southern coast. It is only accessible via the river, and not through any land routes, making it difficult to actively use. It is used less for trade and more so to not completely lose contact with the world outside of Gaiapeia.
It is interesting that it took 600 years for the ports to become points of contention. Did something change that increased the number of water-based fae? Again, it is plausible that this would be the reason for continued conflict, but it still feels like there’s something missing. Why did this happen at that time?
There’s no human alive who could know, but there might be some fae who were alive then. They should know exactly what has been happening these past centuries. Then why is the source of this conflict still unclear? Maeve made it sound like humanity was recklessly expanding and taking their land, but the fae lands are uninhabitable to humans. Right?
While there is much to think about, there’s no way you can finish that entire book tonight, so you should probably stop for now. It is interesting, though.
You set the book aside and rub your eyes. It is getting late and you should make sure to get as much sleep as you can. There's not much else you can do right now anyway.
There will be enough time to meet up with Maeve later this week. With the changeling incident happening only two days ago, security is at an all time high, which might not even make it possible for you to be alone in the gardens.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> Figuring out what to do about Thianne might be the more pressing issue, though you doubt she’d spill your secret without further prompting. If that was her intention, she would have gone to Az’Lean immediately. No, you know that she’s giving you a chance for now, though of course there will be a limit to her patience.
As you see it, there are three ways this could go. Either you tell Az’Lean your secret, she tells Az’Lean your secret, or you can somehow convince or force her to keep it.
If you would want to tell Az’Lean about it, now really isn’t the best time. Not when a changeling attacked mere days ago. Thinking about it like this, maybe you should just ask Thianne for more time.
You do know that you’ll have to come clean eventually if the plan is for Az’Lean to be more accepting of the fae. There’s no way you can encourage peace without giving him a convincing reason and being truthful yourself.
Maybe you could make a promise with Thianne to wait until after the festival before telling him. Let him forget about the changeling’s attack and put him in a more joyous mood - that might be the way to go about it.
In any case, you won’t make any such decision today.<<endif>>\
For now, what you should be focusing on is getting some sleep. Nothing more.
[[There'll be more time to read tomorrow.|Chapter7C5]]You make sure to take everything you read with a grain of salt and note down some particularly interesting passages:
<i>One of the reasons for the continued conflicts between humans and fae is the location of the kingdom at the centre of the continent. Due to the lands surrounding the kingdom belonging to the fae, they are uninhabitable to humans. Not only the terrain, but also plants and animals are infused with fae magic, causing adverse effects for any humans who tried staying there for any period of time.
While fae could live amongst humans, humans could no longer live amongst the fae. This also limited their ability to reach their ports and further their trade. Numerous ports on the coast of the continent were affected by these changes, though it is unclear whether that was the fae’s intention or a side effect of the increasing number of fae that could only live in or near water. Due to the long lives of, for example, selkies, their numbers would only ever increase, slowly but steadily. It seems that the loss of these ports was of no consequence to the fae, as they do not conduct any international trade. Many efforts to reclaim these ports ended in violent altercations.</i>
You know that by now, Gaiapeia only has access to a single port, Port Valour, on the southern coast. It is only accessible via the river, and not through any land routes, making it difficult to actively use. It is used less for trade and more so not to completely lose contact with the world outside of Gaiapeia.
It is interesting that it took 600 years for the ports to become points of contention. Did something change that increased the number of water-based fae? Again, it is plausible that this would be the reason for continued conflict, but it still feels like there’s something missing. Why did this happen at that time?
There’s no human alive who could know, but there might be some fae who were alive then. They should know exactly what has been happening these past centuries. Then why is the source of this conflict still unclear? Maeve made it sound like humanity was recklessly expanding and taking their land, but the fae lands are uninhabitable to humans. Right?
You continue reading for a bit longer:
<i>The first official war Gaiapeia had been engaged in began in the year 255 and lasted until 258. A coalition of a large number of fae and the noble houses of Blossomveil, Aven and Gardeene had formed together under the banner of Lord Aven, who sought to establish his own kingdom next to Gaiapeia. The coalition was quickly destroyed from within, caused by infighting between the three noble houses and mass dissertation by their fae allies, who had lost interest in continuing the alliance. Although hundreds of lives were lost in the skirmishes, an escalation of the conflict could be avoided by allowing all of the noble families greater freedom over their territories. It was a decision that proved to be useful in the long term, quelling any further unrest within the nobility for quite some time.
It was only in 499, when a famine struck the kingdom, that another uprising of this kind happened. It marked the beginning of a short-lived but brutal civil war that ended in the same year with the death of King Bor’Told.</i>
You skim over some more accounts of feuds between different noble families. Interestingly enough, almost none of them even mention the fae. It seems like, while the fae were always something of a looming threat, most of the time humans were more concerned with fighting each other.
Another thing that surprises you is the lack of conflict with anyone outside of this continent. Naval travel has always been limited, so maybe no nation would ever bother coming here to attack. You have to admit that you don't know much about the world outside of Gaiapeia, and although you doubt that it has anything to do with your domestic troubles, it might be something worth reading up on as well.
You set the book aside and decide to stop here for now. It is getting late and you should make sure to get as much sleep as you can. There's not much else you can do right now anyway.
There will be enough time to meet up with Maeve later this week. With the changeling incident happening only two days ago, security is at an all time high, which might not even make it possible for you to be alone in the gardens.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> Figuring out what to do about Thianne might be the more pressing issue, though you doubt she’d spill your secret without further prompting. If that was her intention, she would have gone to Az’Lean immediately. No, you know that she’s giving you a chance for now, though of course there will be a limit to her patience.
As you see it, there are three ways this could go. Either you tell Az’Lean your secret, she tells Az’Lean your secret, or you can somehow convince or force her to keep it.
If you would want to tell Az’Lean about it, now really isn’t the best time. Not when a changeling attacked mere days ago. Thinking about it like this, maybe you should just ask Thianne for more time.
You do know that you’ll have to come clean eventually if the plan is for Az’Lean to be more accepting of the fae. There’s no way you can encourage peace without giving him a convincing reason and being truthful yourself.
Maybe you could make a promise with Thianne to wait until after the festival before telling him. Let him forget about the changeling’s attack and put him in a more joyous mood - that might be the way to go about it.
In any case, you won’t make any such decision today.<<endif>>\
For now, what you should be focusing on is getting some sleep. Nothing more.
[[There'll be more time to read tomorrow.|Chapter7C5]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>
“Hello there, $playername. How’ve you been?” He throws you a meaningful glance. That’s right, he offered his support to you when you told him about being a changeling.
“I’m doing alright, all things considered,” you say. “What about you?”
Lester shrugs. “Same old, same old, though they’re running all the servants ragged what with the festival coming up. What I wouldn’t give to just ditch this place, at least for a little while.”
You consider for a moment the possibility of getting Lester involved and telling him about Maeve. It’s not that you don’t trust Maeve, but having a second opinion on fae matters might be invaluable. On the other hand, he doesn’t really need to know what you’re doing, does he? You don’t even know whether he’d want to support your efforts to stop this conflict from escalating, though you imagine he does.
No matter what you decide, it might be a good idea to get to know Lester better, now that he knows about you.
“Are you going to be working throughout the festival, or are you getting some time off?” you ask.
“I don’t know the details yet, but there’s no way I’ll agree to work through the whole thing. Why are you asking? Hoping to spend some time with me?” Lester blinks up at you in a poor imitation of innocence.
“Sure, I’d like that. Though I assume I’ll spend most of my time with Az’Lean, as always.”
“Ugh. Three’s a crowd, you know.” He scratches his beard, looking conflicted. “Though I would like to spend some time with you, regardless. There might be something we want to talk about…?”
It is posed as a question and as an invitation. The only problem is that the type of things the two of you might want to talk about could get you into a lot of trouble should anyone overhear you. The same is true for your conversations with Vynn and your meetings with Maeve. If only there were a way to communicate more discreetly…
“Yes, I can think of quite a few things,” you say. “Though the time and place is another matter entirely.”
“That makes sense. If it’s urgent though, don’t hesitate to come to me, $playername.”
“Speaking of urgent, I’m actually not just here to chat.”
Lester snorts. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me. What’s our dear Princeling want?”
“Nothing much, just someone to bring his lunch to his room later. You don’t have to be the one to do it, don’t worry. I can ask someone else,” you’re quick to say.
“I wouldn’t mind, actually. It’d be funny, I think. There’s no way he could enjoy his food, knowing I brought it. He’d worry it was poisoned, for sure.”
“Am I ever going to find out the specifics of why you two hate each other?” You figure Lester being half-fae might play some part in it, but it seems like there’s more to it than that.
Lester stares up at you. “I think I might tell you, at some point. But it’s not something I like to talk about. It’s not the sort of conversation to have for fun, and if I get to spend time with you, I’d rather not be miserable during it.”
You can’t help but feel a little bad for asking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No need to apologise. I get why you’re curious,” Lester says with a grin. “I’m just such a mysterious figure, you can’t help but be drawn in.”
“So then, is this mysterious figure going to bring Az’Lean’s lunch or do I need to ask someone else?”
Lester’s grin turns wide and impossibly sharp. That’s answer enough for you - you’d better ask someone else to do it.
“You know what, nevermind. I’ll see you around, Lester.”
“Take care, $playername.”
<<else>>
“Hello there, Champ. How’ve you been?” He throws you a curious glance, likely wondering what you’re doing in the kitchens this time of day.
“I’m doing alright, all things considered,” you say. “What about you?”
Lester shrugs. “Same old, same old, though they’re running all the servants ragged what with the festival coming up. What I wouldn’t give to just ditch this place, at least for a little while.”
You consider for a moment the possibility of revealing your secret to Lester and getting him involved. Being half-fae himself, he’d likely be understanding. In truth, his situation isn’t dissimilar to yours.
It’s not that you don’t trust Maeve, but having a second opinion on fae matters might be invaluable. On the other hand, how much do you really need to tell him for that? With how much information could you realistically trust him? You don’t even know whether he’d want to support your efforts to stop this conflict from escalating, though you imagine he does.
Before you can even truly make any such decision, you’d need to get to know Lester better. If you can’t trust him, it’d be better to keep him at arm’s length instead.
“Are you going to be working throughout the festival, or are you getting some time off?” you ask.
“I don’t know the details yet, but there’s no way I’ll agree to work through the whole thing. Why are you asking? Hoping to spend some time with me?” Lester blinks up at you in a poor imitation of innocence.
“Sure, I’d like that. Though I assume I’ll spend most of my time with Az’Lean, as always.”
“Ugh. Three’s a crowd, you know.” He scratches his beard, looking conflicted. “Though I wouldn’t mind spending time with you, regardless. As an aside - was there something you needed?”
“Well, it’s true I didn’t come here just to chat, though I did want to see how you’re doing. I’m really here on Az’Lean’s orders.”
Lester snorts. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me. What’s our dear Princeling want?”
“Nothing much, just someone to bring his lunch to his room later. You don’t have to be the one to do it, don’t worry. I can ask someone else,” you’re quick to say.
“I wouldn’t mind, actually. It’d be funny, I think. There’s no way he could enjoy his food, knowing I brought it. He’d worry it was poisoned, for sure.”
“Am I ever going to find out the specifics of why you two hate each other?” You figure Lester being half-fae might play some part in it, but it seems like there’s more to it than that.
Lester stares up at you. “Not to be rude, but it’s a very personal matter, and it’s not something I like talking about."
You can’t help but feel a little bad for asking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No need to apologise. I get why you’re curious,” Lester says with a grin. “I’m just such a mysterious figure, you can’t help but be drawn in.”
“So then, is this mysterious figure going to bring Az’Lean’s lunch or do I need to ask someone else?”
Lester’s grin turns wide and impossibly sharp. That’s answer enough for you - you’d better ask someone else to do it.
“You know what, nevermind. I’ll see you around, Lester.”
“Take care, Champ.”
<<endif>>\
With that, you decide that you have spent enough time here. After informing another servant that Az’Lean plans to have his lunch in his room, you take your leave. Lester has already disappeared as well.
[[When you get back to Az’Lean’s room he is pouring over stacks of documents, and you remind him to take a break.|Chapter7C7]]
You just had the thought that you shouldn’t keep Az’Lean waiting, so going to chat with Lester would be counterintuitive. Instead, you approach a friendly looking woman who’s sitting near the door and deliver the instructions to her instead.
“I didn’t know the Champion had to run errands as well,” she says with a lop-sided grin. “That doesn’t sound like it would be part of your job description.”
“I don’t mind, really. The prince is doing paperwork right now, so it’s not like I can do anything else to help him. Might as well make sure he gets something to eat,” you say.
The woman laughs. “Sounds like bodily harm isn’t the only thing you need to protect him from.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was just thinking - something like stress or forgetting to eat can cause just as much harm as an assassin’s blade. The prince isn’t just a body you need to keep safe, right? His mind and his heart must have enemies too. There’s more than just the threats you can see that you must shield him from.”
Her words give you pause. Obviously, that’s correct. You wouldn’t be doing your job correctly if you allowed Az’Lean to overwork himself.
But you don’t really understand, do you? The enemies of his heart and mind.
“Those are some wise words,” you say.
“It comes with being a mother. It’s easier to keep my children from getting hurt physically than it is to keep them from hurting inside. Especially now that they are older and refuse to talk to me.” She smiles wryly. “It’s a tough job that never ends.”
You think about your parents, and all of the guidance you had from them. You think about the other knights, teaching you all they know. And you realise that maybe the only reason you have been able to keep going despite everything you’ve learned is because of that.
You’re the same age as Az’Lean, but maybe your guidance wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe the reason he can’t stop hating the fae is because he doesn’t know how. It might be presumptuous or arrogant of you to think like that, but it does give you hope.
“I’m sure your children must be very grateful.”
With that, you decide that you have spent enough time here. After reiterating that Az’Lean plans to have his lunch in his room, you take your leave. Lester has already disappeared as well.
[[When you get back to Az’Lean’s room he is pouring over stacks of documents, and you remind him to take a break.|Chapter7C7]]
The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, and soon enough you are back alone in your room, watching as the sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon.
As darkness sets in around you and the moon rises, you wonder whether you should try going out to the castle gardens to contact Maeve. Since Vynn said they are on patrol there tonight, this might be the best chance you’ll get for a while. Even so, you’re still taking a risk. If someone were to see you, there’s no way it wouldn’t look suspicious.
While you think about what you should do, you come across the note that the Dullahan, Cillian, had given you before. He did write that he would keep an eye on you - but how is he going to achieve that? There’s no way the Wild Hunt would try to breach the castle, right? Maybe you don’t have any time to waste and should be speaking with Maeve about this as soon as possible. With everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, it seems that there’s no telling what’s going to happen next.
No time like the present. At the very least, you should try to see if there’s an opportunity to talk to Maeve tonight - and if there is, you shouldn’t let it go to waste. The chance that something happens which would make Az'Lean call for you tonight of all nights is rather slim, and you won't get anywhere by just waiting around.
You shove the note into your pocket and exit your room.
As you suspected, due to the incident last week, security in the castle’s halls has been increased tremendously. Guards and knights alike are on patrol, especially near any entrances. There’s an air of tension surrounding them - the suspicion that anyone could really be a changeling must be getting to them. You walk past them all with ease, after all no one bats an eye at the Champion helping out with security. It's as convenient as it is concerning.
Realistically, you know this isn’t good though. You might be lucky tonight, but there’s a very real possibility that they might lock down the gardens at night for good. Or worse, what if Thianne’s magical barrier devices get installed all over the castle to prevent any fae from moving around unseen? That’d have your back against the wall in the worst possible way. Come to think of it, you wonder whether half-fae like Lester are affected by those barriers, and to what degree. It might be something worth figuring out.
As you make your way to the gardens, you can’t help but feel on edge. Your footsteps sound impossibly loud on the stone floor. When you finally step outside, your heart skips a beat. You can spot Vynn on the other side - but they aren’t alone. It seems two other knights, Fowain and Abigail, have joined them on their patrol. They’re walking in circles around the entire garden and it doesn’t look like they’re going to stop soon.
You remain near the entrance, pondering what to do. Vynn spots you and they roll their dark eyes in something like exasperation. You can guess that they already tried and failed to get the others to leave. Unfortunately, any knight worth their salt wouldn’t ever leave all of the responsibility to Vynn of all people.
It seems like a proper meeting with Maeve is going to be difficult. What options do you have? Wait for a few hours to see if they leave? Come back another night? What if security is always going to be this tight from now on and you never get to see Maeve again? Then what?
You take a deep breath and slowly walk towards the weeping willow in the centre of the garden. No, there has to be some other way to stay in contact with her. Maybe you can just whisper something, and she’ll be able to hear it in the grove.
As nonchalantly as possible, you lean against the willow’s trunk, crossing your arms and tilting your head back. “Maeve? Don’t show yourself, just whisper something in return if you can hear me,” you softly say to yourself.
It is quiet for a while, all you hear are crickets and the wind rustling through the leaves above you.
“$playername,” you hear her voice suddenly. It seems to come from within the tree, but it sounds like she’s standing right behind you, whispering in your ear. It’s a strange sensation, but not unpleasant. “Did something happen?”
“A lot is going on and there’s much I want to talk to you about, but they’ve upped the security in the castle. We won’t be able to speak freely here. Any ideas?”
You watch the knights walk past the rose bushes on the other side of the gardens. It seems Abigail has spotted you, and she extends her hand in a wave. You wave back, praying that she won’t come over here. Luckily, it seems Vynn is able to keep her on track and the three of them keep walking.
“There’s not much to be done, though there are ways to conceal your presence here. Enchantments to muffle sound so no one can listen in, ways to make yourself invisible - those sorts of things. Of course, you could also always change your appearance. 'Tis a shame though, that we can’t meet properly. Being able to sit across from you and converse face to face is the best part.”
You would need to spend some time learning how to do an enchantment like that and you’re not even sure you’re capable of it, in terms of magical ability. Changing your appearance sounds like it would pose some risks, as well as being uncomfortable to think about. It seems like there’s no easy solution to this problem, and you agree with Maeve that simply whispering to each other like this doesn’t feel right either.
You need to be able to see her expressions, to show her things, like the letter from Cillian, and to shake her hand at the end of it all.
[[“I’ll think about what to do, but maybe we should lay low in the mean time. Maybe security won’t remain this tight forever.”|Chapter7C8]]
[[“I’ll do whatever I have to, no matter what it is. I want to keep seeing you, properly.”|Chapter7C8]]
“Thank you, $playername.” Maeve’s voice is silent for a while and you wonder whether she left.
“Maeve?”
“Sorry, I was thinking about something. Never mind that, you sounded urgent, earlier. You said there was much you wanted to talk about?”
You have no time to ponder what that was about. There’s no telling when Vynn and the other knights will circle back around to here, and anyway they’ll ask what you’re doing out here if you stay too long. You’ll have to be concise.
<<if $Lesterknows == "yes">>“First things first, I told someone about me. He’s half-fae and works in the castle, and he was very understanding of my situation. It’s possible that he might be able to help us, but I’m not sure whether to let him in on this or not.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. We won’t get anywhere without taking some risks,” Maeve says. Her tone of voice is almost excited at the prospect.
“There’s someone else who knows about me. They’re a human, my best friend, and they offered to help me no matter what. I know you’ll probably not want to trust a human with any kind of valuable information. I respect that, but I honestly don’t think I can keep going without any help.”
Maeve is quiet for a minute. “They don’t mind that you’re fae? Why would they be willing to help our cause?”
It’s not really Maeve’s agenda that Vynn supports, but more that they are willing to go along with your efforts to prevent an escalation of the conflict in general. Maeve doesn’t need to know these specifics just yet, though.
“I’m not sure that they’d be willing to help, in that sense, but they’ll definitely do whatever they can to protect me and keep my secret safe. In that sense, their help might prove to be invaluable,” you say.
“That sounds fair enough, though if the opportunity presents itself I’d like to see for myself what type of person they are.”
She sounds a bit more hesitant this time, though that’s to be expected.
[[“Then there’s the matter of the Wild Hunt.”|Chapter7C9]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $Azknows == "yes">>
For a moment, you wonder whether you should tell her about the fact that Az’Lean knows your secret. You quickly decide against it. While you could try to spin it in a way that you only told him to get closer to him and gain his trust, you doubt Maeve will be happy with that reasoning. It’d be fair for her to assume that if you told him about yourself, you might tell him about Maeve as well, which would not only ruin whatever plans she has but maybe even put her grove in danger.
No, you can’t tell her that Az’Lean knows. Vynn, however, is a different matter. If you want to prevent a war from breaking out, you need to know whether Maeve would be willing to even speak to a human. If she can bring herself to trust Vynn, maybe there’s hope.
“There’s someone who knows about me. They’re a human, my best friend, and they offered to help me no matter what. I know you’ll probably not want to trust a human with any kind of valuable information. I respect that, but I honestly don’t think I can keep going without any help.”
Maeve is quiet for a minute. “They don’t mind that you’re fae? Why would they be willing to help our cause?”
It’s not really Maeve’s agenda that Vynn supports, but more that they are willing to go along with your efforts to prevent an escalation of the conflict in general. Maeve doesn’t need to know these specifics just yet, though.
“I’m not sure that they’d be willing to help, in that sense, but they’ll definitely do whatever they can to protect me and keep my secret safe. In that sense, their help might prove to be invaluable,” you say.
“That sounds fair enough, though if the opportunity presents itself I’d like to see for myself what type of person they are.”
She sounds a bit hesitant, though that’s to be expected.
[[“I’m sure that could be arranged. Then there’s the matter of the Wild Hunt.”|Chapter7C9]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianneknows is not "yes" && $Lesterknows is not "yes" && $Azknows is not "yes">>
You wonder whether you should tell Maeve about the fact that Vynn knows about you. You might have to, sooner or later. If you want to prevent a war from breaking out, you need to know whether Maeve would be willing to even speak to a human. If she can bring herself to trust Vynn, maybe there’s hope.
“There’s someone who knows about me. They’re a human, my best friend, and they offered to help me no matter what. I know you’ll probably not want to trust a human with any kind of valuable information. I respect that, but I honestly don’t think I can keep going without any help.”
Maeve is quiet for a minute. “They don’t mind that you’re fae? Why would they be willing to help our cause?”
It’s not really Maeve’s agenda that Vynn supports, but more that they are willing to go along with your efforts to prevent an escalation of the conflict in general. Maeve doesn’t need to know these specifics just yet, though.
“I’m not sure that they’d be willing to help, in that sense, but they’ll definitely do whatever they can to protect me and keep my secret safe. In that sense, their help might prove to be invaluable,” you say.
“That sounds fair enough, though if the opportunity presents itself I’d like to see for myself what type of person they are.”
She sounds a bit hesitant, though that’s to be expected.
[[“I’m sure that could be arranged. Then there’s the matter of the Wild Hunt.”|Chapter7C9]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
You wonder whether you should tell Maeve about the fact that Thianne knows your secret. Telling her was a mistake on your part and you might need Maeve’s help to deal with it. On the other hand, it might make Maeve lose her trust in you.
Maybe you could keep it vague, for now. You could ask her for advice on what you should do in case someone finds out your secret, and act as if it hasn’t already happened. If you could handle Thianne without getting anyone else involved, that’d be best.
Then there’s the fact that Vynn knows about you. Telling Maeve about them might go over better, since at least you know you can fully trust Vynn. If you want to prevent a war from breaking out, you need to know whether Maeve would be willing to even speak to a human. If she can bring herself to trust Vynn, maybe there’s hope.
“There’s someone who knows about me. They’re a human, my best friend, and they offered to help me no matter what. I know you’ll probably not want to trust a human with any kind of valuable information. I respect that, but I honestly don’t think I can keep going without any help.”
Maeve is quiet for a minute. “They don’t mind that you’re fae? Why would they be willing to help our cause?”
It’s not really Maeve’s agenda that Vynn supports, but more that they are willing to go along with your efforts to prevent an escalation of the conflict in general. Maeve doesn’t need to know these specifics just yet, though.
“I’m not sure that they’d be willing to help, in that sense, but they’ll definitely do whatever they can to protect me and keep my secret safe. In that sense, their help might prove to be invaluable,” you say.
“That sounds fair enough, though if the opportunity presents itself I’d like to see for myself what type of person they are.”
She sounds a bit hesitant, though that’s to be expected.
“There was something I was worried about, however,” you say. “What should I do if someone I don’t trust finds out about me being a changeling? I feel like it’s only a matter of time until something like that happens.”
“‘Tis a valid concern to have,” Maeve says slowly. “There’s only so many ways to protect yourself. I’d be nice if you could convince them to keep your secret, but you can never fully trust that they’ll actually do it, or that they don’t accidentally let it slip. In the end, the only way to be sure is to kill them or erase their memories.”
Killing Thianne isn’t even a fathomable option. “Erasing their memories? Something like that is possible?”
“Sure enough. Altering memories is very high level fae magic, so I don’t know if you could do it, but it’s not impossible. Basically, you need the person’s blood, a star chart, a sundial, the correct array of runes, and a considerable amount of magical ability. The idea is that you use the blood to specify the person and the star chart and sun dial to specify the day and time. Then, depending on how strong your magic is, you can erase a certain period of time from her memories.”
It’s not like you remember the exact minute you told Thianne, so you’d have to erase the entire evening you spent together. Wouldn’t she wonder about that? Maybe not if she just thought she was exhausted from pulling all-nighters. Even if she did notice, she wouldn’t be able to trace it back to you, right?
“It sounds like a useful thing to learn at some point,” you say as casually as you can.
“Great! Then I’ll prepare a lesson on that type of magic.”
You just hope Thianne will give you enough time to learn this magic and pull it off successfully.
[[“Thank you. Then there’s the matter of the Wild Hunt.”|Chapter7C9]]
<<endif>>\
When the two of you burst into Az’Lean’s chambers, in a rush to tell him all about the contact you made with the leader of the Wild Hunt, you’re surprised to find him slowly turning to you with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah? Vynn already told me about all of that. Why are you bringing it up now?”
Your mind grinds to a halt for a second. They did? Did they do it because you forgot, and keeping quiet about important information like that would paint you in a very bad light? Or is there some other reason for them talking to Az’Lean about this without you being there?
“Oh, I just wanted to make sure that they really covered everything,” you say, playing it off as if you hadn’t completely forgotten about the matter. “Anyway, Thianne said you talked about everything with her yesterday. It’s good that we’re all on the same page now.”
Thianne side-eyes you but remains silent.
Az’Lean stares at you for a moment longer before shrugging. “I guess. Though to be entirely honest, my mind is more occupied with these damned festival preparations than anything else. That the Wild Hunt showed up again is concerning, but there’s not much we can do while we wait for the mass production of the magical barrier devices to really get going.”
“Meanin’ we’re just on the defensive right now,” Thianne sums up. “Is it even a good idea to hold that festival?”
“Because of security risks?” you ask. “I get your concern, but the people would riot if we cancelled it now.”
Az’Lean sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “That is true. People from all over the kingdom will come to visit, and it’ll be impossible to check everyone that crosses through the city gates. People will be drunk, knights and guards will have their hands full with all the petty crime that will happen, and there’s going to be all kinds of magical exhibits that will be set up and anyone could tamper with those. It’s a headache, is what it is.”
“Do you think there will even be time for us to enjoy it?” you ask.
Thianne crosses her arms. “I don’t consider an event like that enjoyable either way, though if I constantly have to help out I won’t even be able to hide away from all of the noise.”
“Hey now. I expect to see you at the Midnight Dance, Thianne,” Az’Lean says with a half-smile. “I don’t care who you dance with, but you better be there this year.”
It’s hard to imagine Thianne dancing with anyone, really. She looks like the type to just tap her foot on the sidelines instead.
Last year, you ended up dancing with Vynn, though it was more so them spinning you around against your will.
Typically, the Midnight Dance marks the end of the festival and is held on the last day. It is said that whoever you dance with on that day will forever be a part of your life. Asking someone to dance at the Midnight Dance isn’t necessarily a romantic gesture, though it does express a great deal of affection.
You’ve mostly danced with Vynn or your parents in the past, and so far, they have remained an integral part of your life. Maybe there is something to that superstition. You wonder who Az’Lean or Thianne would dance with. It doesn’t seem to you like they’d want to get closer to anyone specific, so maybe they’d just dance with each other. You’re trying not to get ahead of yourself, but…
Maybe the Summer Solstice Festival is something to look forward to, after all.
Because nothing bad ever happens at a festival, right?
[[End of Chapter 7A - Devotion|Chapter8A0]]“From the 8th of the Midday Moon to the 11th of the Midday Moon, we hold a festival here in the city to celebrate the solstice,” you begin to explain. “There will be food, drink, music and performances, magical exhibitions and shrines dedicated to the Gods. On the final day we finish the festival with the Midnight Dance.”
“It is said that whoever you dance with will forever be a part of your life. Not romantically, just in general,” Lester adds. “It’s fun to get drunk, dance with a random person and then regret it for the rest of your life.”
Maeve stares at him for a second as if to determine whether he’s serious or not before bursting into laughter. “That sounds like a good time to me! What a romantic idea, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. The solstice does hold some kind of power, magical or otherwise.”
“Do you celebrate it as well?” you ask.
She nods. “Yes, though we don’t hold anything as extravagant as a festival that lasts four days long - at least not at my grove. Mostly, we dedicate songs and prayers to the Gods and Goddesses and partake in a night of drunken revelry. So, is there someone you would ask to dance, $playername?” Maeve grins impishly.
Last year, you ended up dancing with Vynn, though it was more so them spinning you around against your will. As Lester said, asking someone to dance at the Midnight Dance isn’t necessarily a romantic gesture, though it does express a great deal of affection.
You’ve mostly danced with Vynn or your parents in the past, and so far, they have remained an integral part of your life. Maybe there really is something to that superstition. As to who you would dance with this year… Well, your parents promised they’d show up and Vynn is always an option, of course, but it might be more interesting to go with someone else instead. You’re trying not to get ahead of yourself, but…
“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, injecting an air of mystery into your voice. “But maybe there <i>is</i> someone on my mind.”
“So you’re keeping it a secret! I see how it is.” Maeve all but pouts at your answer. “Don’t think about not dancing with anyone, though. If you try to hide in your room I’ll be here and force you to dance with me instead.”
That almost sounds like Maeve wouldn’t mind intertwining her destiny with yours. With a smile you think to yourself that you’re already past that point, even without the Midnight Dance. From the day she first showed herself to you, there was no question that she would occupy an important spot in your life.
You can’t help but smile fondly. “That’s not the threat you think it is.”
“Maybe I’ll use the favour you owe me to force you to dance with me instead,” Lester chimes in. “Make it so you’re never getting rid of me.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Are you sure about that? That also means <i>you’re</i> not getting rid of <i>me</i>. And I won’t hesitate to ask you for ridiculous favours again.”
“Sure, but maybe I’ll say no next time!”
Maeve smiles wickedly. “Just look at $playername’s big $eyes eyes. How could you say no to a look like that?”
Lester scoffs dismissively but you can see the smile he’s trying to hide by turning his head away. Maeve hides her laughter behind her hand.
The sight of both of them and the tree in your room is surreal to say the least, but not unpleasant. Next time you’ll get Vynn in here too, and then your room will barely be able to seat four people. It’s a heart-warming realisation to have.
You’re also starting to genuinely look forward to the festival. It feels like you’re slowly starting to be comfortable in your skin once again, and despite all that happened, despite all you’re hiding, and despite all that’s yet to come, you feel like there’s hope.
Maybe you can use this festival as an opportunity to just enjoy yourself. A few simple days without worry.
Because nothing bad ever happens at a festival, right?
[[End of Chapter 7B - Solidarity|Chapter8B0]]"I'll make sure to remember that," Az'Lean promises.
The four of you keep chatting about music for a while before you start heading back to the castle.
“For the record, I am sorry for making you all work so much for this,” Az’Lean says after a while. “I just can’t risk anything going wrong or anything unforeseen happening.”
“I mean, I get that. Still, I wish I had more time to actually enjoy the festival myself,” Vynn says. “I never realised being a knight meant spending a large portion of festivals on active duty. I envy those squires now.”
“Is it even a good idea to hold that festival?” Thianne asks. Vynn looks offended at the mere suggestion of cancelling it.
“Because of security risks?” you ask. “I get your concern, but the people would riot if we cancelled it now.”
Vynn nods. “I know even I would riot. I’d rather spend all four days on patrol than not have any festival at all.”
Az’Lean sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “People from all over the kingdom will come to visit, and it’ll be impossible to check everyone that crosses through the city gates. People will be drunk, knights and guards will have their hands full with all the petty crime that will happen, and there’s going to be all kinds of magical exhibits that will be set up and anyone could tamper with those. It’s a headache, is what it is.”
“Do you think we will even be able to relax enough for us to enjoy it?” you ask.
Thianne crosses her arms. “I don’t consider an event like that enjoyable either way, though if I constantly have to help out I won’t even be able to hide away from all of the noise.”
“Hey now. I expect to see you at the Midnight Dance, Thianne,” Az’Lean says with a half-smile. “I don’t care who you dance with, but you better be there this year.”
It’s hard to imagine Thianne dancing with anyone, really. She looks like the type to just tap her foot on the sidelines instead.
Last year, you ended up dancing with Vynn, though it was more so them spinning you around against your will.
Typically, the Midnight Dance marks the end of the festival and is held on the last day. It is said that whoever you dance with on that day will forever be a part of your life. Asking someone to dance at the Midnight Dance isn’t necessarily a romantic gesture, though it does express a great deal of affection.
You’ve mostly danced with Vynn or your parents in the past, and so far, they have remained an integral part of your life. Maybe there is something to that superstition. You wonder who Az’Lean or Thianne would dance with. It doesn’t seem to you like they’d want to get closer to anyone specific, so maybe they’d just dance with each other. You’re trying not to get ahead of yourself, but…
Maybe the Summer Solstice Festival is something to look forward to, after all.
Because nothing bad ever happens at a festival, right?
[[End of Chapter 7C - Compromise|Chapter8C0]]
<img src="images/Chap8B.png">
<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
<<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
<<set $lie to $lie + 2>>\
<<set $humour to $humour + 2>>\
<<set $route to 2>>\
In the days leading up to the festival, you spend as much time with Maeve as you can get away with. Most of your evenings are spent talking to her and learning as much as you can. One topic you return to a few times is the Wild Hunt, as well as its enigmatic leader, Cillian. A few times you’ve caught yourself staying up too late, but you can deal with a bit of lack of sleep every now and then. If Az’Lean notices anything off about your behaviour, he doesn’t comment on it, though it seems he’s busy enough already without worrying about you.
One thing that Maeve had promised you was lessons in fae magic. As it turns out, she is an excellent teacher, added with Lester’s occasional advice and your own aptitude for magic, you could learn something entirely new in just a few days’ time.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> [[While there are many types of magic you are interested in, for now you focus on learning how to erase specific memories in order to deal with Thianne.|Chapter8B1A]]
<<else>>
[[It makes sense to bolster your offensive capabilities, so you look more into elemental magic.|Chapter8B1B]]
[[You want to learn something that could help you better hide your secret from humans.|Chapter8B1C]]
[[If you’re going to learn something new, it should be versatile and able to support you in a variety of ways.|Chapter8B1D]]
<<endif>>\<img src="images/Chap8C.png">
<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 5>>\
<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
<<set $lie to $lie + 1>>\
<<set $route to 3>>
In the days leading up to the festival, you end up being pretty busy, though you do have one day off. Even though you could use a breather, you figure you should use it productively. There's so many things you can only do on your day off, and relaxing unfortunately isn't very high on your list.
The first thing you tackle is looking into a way to more effectively communicate with Maeve without being found it. It isn't very elegant, but you figure out how to make a rune stone that muffles sound within a certain radius when activated. Even if someone sees you in the gardens under that willow tree, at least they won't know you are talking to someone.
With that in mind, you can even meet with Maeve during the day as long as you keep your meetings short and are careful about it. Maeve still can't show herself and not being able to talk face-to-face is disheartening, but it's the best you can do at the moment. At the very least you are able to exchange words with her. The Wild Hunt, and its enigmatic leader Cillian, is a topic you keep coming back to, though Maeve is much as loss as you when it comes to their intentions.
More importantly, Maeve has succeeded in creating a bit of paper made from plants of her grove that she can bring with her through the connection with the tree and she has promised to work on writing down whatever useful information she could impart you with.
As for your day off, you could either start with learning a bit more about fae magic from Maeve, or you could focus on polishing your martial skills. Who knows when the next threat will show up.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">> [[While there are many types of magic you are interested in, for now you focus on learning how to erase specific memories in order to deal with Thianne.|Chapter8B1A]] <<endif>>\
[[You want to start learning fae magic. It makes sense to bolster your offensive capabilities, so you look more into elemental magic.|Chapter8C1B]]
[[You want to start learning fae magic, especially magic that could help you better hide your secret from humans.|Chapter8C1C]]
[[You want to start learning fae magic. It should be something that is versatile and able to support you in a variety of ways.|Chapter8C1D]]
[[You want to work on your martial skills, in particular your archery. You are lacking a bit in ranged options.|Chapter8A1A]]
[[You want to work on your martial skills, honing the skills you already have to absolute mastery.|Chapter8A1B]]
[[You want to work on your martial skills, in particular your defensive capabilities.|Chapter8A1C]]<<set $instability to $instability + 1>>\
If you were to be honest with yourself, you’d have to admit that you feel like you’re being crushed under all this weight. The looming uncertainty, the self-doubt - it keeps squeezing at your heart and constricting your throat.
Thianne must have noticed, which is why she asked.
“I’m not really okay,” you say, not wanting to really go into any details.
“I’m not surprised. I don’t think there’s much anyone can do to comfort you, $playername. I doubt there’s anyone who really understands what you’re going through. Least of all someone like me.” Thianne cuts herself short, as if there was something else she wanted to say but decided against doing so at the last second.
It’s clear she wants to say something kind, but doesn’t believe she is able to. She won’t lie to you. She won’t say that everything is going to be okay, or that she’ll always be there for you, or that things will get better.
But she knows you’re struggling, and it seems like she does care.
“Thank you, Thianne. For asking me about how I’m doing,” you say.
She nods, curtly, and that is that.
[[“Then let’s go see Az’Lean,” you say as you lead the way.|Chapter7A14]]It feels like there’s a mess of different emotions within you, all swirling around in a pot that threatens to boil over. Even identifying just one of these feelings is impossible, and it leaves you all rather confused and detached. Figuring it out just doesn’t feel worth it.
“I’m not sure,” you say, not bothering to explain any further.
“I’m not surprised. I don’t think there’s much anyone can do to help you figure it out, $playername. I doubt there’s anyone who really understands what you’re going through. Least of all someone like me.” Thianne cuts herself short, as if there was something else she wanted to say but decided against doing so at the last second.
It’s clear she wants to say something kind, but doesn’t believe she is able to. She won’t lie to you. She won’t say that everything is going to be okay, or that she’ll always be there for you, or that things will get better.
But she knows you’re struggling, and it seems like she does care.
“Thank you, Thianne. For asking me about how I’m doing,” you say.
She nods, curtly, and that is that.
[[“Then let’s go see Az’Lean,” you say as you lead the way.|Chapter7A14]]It feels like you’re constantly fighting to keep your head above water, but so far, you haven’t been dragged under yet. It takes all of your determination to keep going, but you know that you will make it. You have to.
You grit your teeth and nod your head.
“I will be okay,” you say. It might not be tomorrow or next week, but you <i>will</i> be.
“That’s good to hear. To be honest, I’m not sure what else you can do other than tough it out, $playername. I doubt there’s anyone who really understands what you’re going through, so I’m not sure if there is anyone you can rely on.” Thianne cuts herself short, as if there was something else she wanted to say but decided against doing so at the last second.
It’s clear she wants to say something kind, but doesn’t believe she is able to. She won’t lie to you. She won’t say that everything is going to be okay, or that she’ll always be there for you, or that things will get better.
But she knows you’re struggling, and she has faith in your ability to overcome it. That alone shows she cares.
“Thank you, Thianne. For asking me about how I’m doing,” you say.
She nods, curtly, and that is that.
[[“Then let’s go see Az’Lean,” you say as you lead the way.|Chapter7A14]]It feels like a battle that you know you can win. It doesn’t matter if it takes effort or is exhausting at times, you know that you are strong and that you won’t be defeated. In the end, it doesn’t matter what the world throws at you. You’ll keep going, no matter what.
Thianne seems to be surprised when you manage a smile.
“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” you say. “What kind of Champion would I be if this were enough to get to me?”
“That’s good to hear. I suppose this type of mental fortitude is one of the reasons you became Champion in the first place. Still, if you ever do falter, that’d be fine, too.” Thianne cuts herself short, as if there was something else she wanted to say but decided against doing so at the last second.
It’s clear she wants to say something kind, but doesn’t believe she is able to. She won’t lie to you or spout platitudes, but she also doesn’t want to question ability to stay strong. In the end, she settles for returning your smile.
Knowing that she cares is all that matters, really.
“Thank you, Thianne. For asking me about how I’m doing,” you say.
She nods, curtly, and that is that.
[[“Then let’s go see Az’Lean,” you say as you lead the way.|Chapter7A14]]You’re surprised that Thianne asked you something like this. Honestly, you have never felt more alive. Sure, there are some things you are worried about, but in the end, this is what you signed up for when you became a knight. Danger, uncertainty, and fights you can’t run from.
While this situation is unique, the underlying core is simply that: keep fighting, keep risking your life, and don’t waste time worrying about things you can’t change.
“Oh, I’m completely fine,” you say. “No need to worry, Thianne.”
Thianne looks surprised, almost taken aback. “I see. That’s good to hear, then. I suppose this type of mental fortitude is one of the reasons you became Champion in the first place. Still, if you ever do falter, that’d be fine, too.” Thianne cuts herself short, as if there was something else she wanted to say but decided against doing so at the last second.
Maybe she underestimated you and expected you to be in turmoil over this. Maybe she thinks you’re just putting up a front. In any case, it shows that she cares, and you can’t fault her for that.
There’s almost something like relief on her face, as well. Maybe she’s glad that she doesn’t have to come up with anything comforting to say.
“Thank you, Thianne. For asking me about how I’m doing,” you say.
She nods, curtly, and that is that.
[[“Then let’s go see Az’Lean,” you say as you lead the way.|Chapter7A14]]“Did they show up again?”
“Their leader did, at the very least. He told me he was going to keep an eye on me, but that’s about it.”
Maeve hums as if lost in thought. “How peculiar. Though if that means they won’t get in our way, that’s a good thing, yeah?”
“I’d say so, though I don’t think we can just ignore them long term if they’re going to attack again. That being said, I wouldn’t even know where to start when it comes to figuring out what they want,” you admit.
Maeve hums again.
You notice that Vynn and the others are heading towards the entrance. That means they’ll either pass by you soon, or they are going to leave this area to switch with the next shift. Either way, you might not have much more time to keep talking with Maeve. There’s more you want to ask yet, and more importantly, you want to subtly ask her about her stance on what it would take to end this conflict. You’ll have to trust that her answer would be, maybe not unbiased, but at least truthful from her perspective.
“Do you think if we could get the humans to stop expanding that would be enough?” you say, trying to figure out if possession of land is truly the crux of the problem.
“You say that as if it would be an easy feat to achieve. I think in the short term, maybe, but humanity will always possess the desire to grow. And we fae live longer lives. Even in a hundred years, there will be plenty of us who remember this time and the ways in which humans have hurt us. That resentment might not fade. It would still be a good first step, though.” Maeve’s voice is soft, like she’s afraid to express any sort of idealistic hope.
“How do people on other continents do it?”
Maeve laughs. “I wouldn’t know. I only really know my grove. I imagine, however, that it’s like this everywhere. Fights over resources and old grudges. Differing ideologies and ways of life. Not just between humans and fae. Humans fighting humans. Fae fighting fae.”
“What does it take for people to compromise with each other?”
Maeve is silent for a while. You wish you were able to see her expression right now. “Empathy, patience, and something else.”
“Something else?”
“That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet. Like a third, secret ingredient.” Maeve sighs. “Whatever it is, it must be hard to come by.”
“Do you think we had it in the past?” you ask.
“What do you mean?”
“This conflict has been brewing for a while now, but it hasn’t always been this bad. Is it just because there are more humans now than there were before? Or was something else different about the past?”
Maeve waits for you to continue.
If you think about it, the only thing that comes to mind is…
[[The presence of the Gods was stronger back then.|Chapter7C10A]]
[[The New Deity hadn’t been around back then.|Chapter7C10B]]
[[Humans weren’t as numerous or as technologically advanced back then.|Chapter7C10C]]
“Maybe it has something to do with the presence of the New Deity. Back then, they weren’t around, or at the very least, they were not known to us,” you speculate.
“It is only humans that believe in their existence in the first place. As far as we fae know, the New Deity is but a human invention used to back their ideals. Is there really any evidence that this New Deity exists? Then again, the Gods haven’t done anything to disprove their existence. Either way, it’s a matter of belief.”
So it’s a pointless train of thought after all. Even if there were answers to be found in the sphere of the Gods, you’re not the one who would find them. There’s only so much that can be achieved by offering prayers and conducting divinations.
“Say, Maeve. Can you transport objects through your connection with this tree?” you ask, suddenly haven gotten an idea. “I mean, it works with your dress, right?”
“It only works with objects that were grown in my grove. My dress is woven from plant material,” Maeve explains. “Why? Do you want me to bring you a souvenir?”
“I was just wondering whether you could write something down for me. Let’s say you want to give me information or conduct a lesson, could you bring a stack of papers with you?”
“Oh, yes that’s possible. Paper and charcoal can be made here, though not in large quantities. But if it’s a few sheets of paper, that’d be within my capabilities.” You can hear Maeve smiling. “Is there something you want me to write down for you?”
“Could you give me something like a timeline of events that pertains to the conflict? With exact dates if you know them, just so I can understand everything better.” You feel like it could be a good idea to compare what Maeve knows with what is written in the library’s history books.
“I would need to fact check a few things, but I could do that. Do you want me to prepare something like that for our next meeting?”
“That would be very helpful of you.”
Maeve giggles. “My, how studious of you. Your interest makes me very happy!”
Just as you are about to answer her, you spot someone in the corner of your eye. Vynn and the other knights are about to finish their patrol and head back, which will take them past where you're standing. In less than a minute, they'll be dangerously close to being able to hear you, even if you whisper.
[[Leave the tree immediately, without another word. Maeve will understand what’s happening.|Chapter7C11]]
[[“Someone’s coming. Goodbye, Maeve,” you whisper quickly before stepping away from the tree.|Chapter7C11]]Fowain and Abigail eye you with curiosity as you walk past them towards the entrance of the garden, but Vynn urges them to keep walking and not stop for a chat. They simply nod as you pass them by. Suddenly, the note from Cillian in your pocket feels like it’s weighing tons. If anyone found this on you, you’d have a hard time explaining that one. It becomes increasingly clear to you how careful you really need to be from now on.
With hurried steps you make your way through the castle, all the while feeling like you are being watched. Did you draw unnecessary attention to yourself? Are you under suspicion? You know it’s probably nothing, but you just can’t shake the sensation of prying eyes judging your every action.
When you return to your room, you are out of breath despite it not being a far walk at all. The first thing you do is lock the door behind you. Then, you read over the note of Cillian again, burning it into your memory.
There is no reason to keep the note around. You know what it says and so do Vynn and Maeve at this point.
<<if $element == "fire">>You use your fire magic, and it is completely destroyed in a matter of seconds.
<<else>> You hold it over the candle on your night stand and it is completely destroyed in a matter of seconds.<<endif>>\
That, at the very least, offers you a sense of relief.
!!!Year 929, 29th of the Cherry Moon
The next day, while you're standing outside of his room waiting for Az'Lean to get ready, you see Thianne rounding the corner of the corridor, heading towards you.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
You can’t help but immediately tense up. The last conversation you had with her is still vividly present in your mind and you panic at the thought of the amount of power she has over you now that she knows the truth.
Thianne comes to a halt in front of you, looking at you with a somewhat conflicted expression.
“You know, this is kinda awkward,” she says and grimaces. “Why don’t you just tell him and get this farce over with? This is weighin’ on my mind too, you know.”
In a sense, Thianne is deceiving Az’Lean just as much as you are right now. The fact that she has kept your secret even for just a few days must make her question whether it’s worth it. There will be a point where she cracks under the pressure of this information, and it might be sooner than you’d hope.
You need to buy yourself time. Now.
“Listen, Thianne. I have made up my mind. I promise you I will tell him, but I just need to find the right time. No matter how he is going to take it, I don’t want to throw the kingdom into disarray during a critical moment. Can you give me time until after the festival is over?”
Whether you will actually tell him or erase Thianne’s memories instead is neither here nor there. Either way you can’t have her being the one to tell Az’Lean. That’d ruin any possible chance you have of getting him to trust you.
She examines your expression carefully, likely trying to decide whether you’re lying or not.
“Like I said, if I think he needs to know, I’ll tell him. But if everything stays calm until the festival is over, I guess that’d be an acceptable amount of time to wait. I’m not promisin’ you anything, but I’ll take your request into consideration.”
You swallow thickly. “Fair enough.”
“Now, let’s act like this conversation never happened before Az’Lean joins us.”
<<else>>
She comes to a halt in front of you, looking at you with a bored expression. “I’m so sick and tired of this festival preparation crap already, $playername,” she laments.
“Are we doing that again today? When I dreamt of becoming the Champion, I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this much event management.”
Thianne almost smiles at that. “I think Az’Lean is just dragging us down with him. I get that I’m his advisor or whatever, but that’s for magical matters, not- not decoration placement.”
“A prince’s duties are varied indeed,” you say with a sagely nod.
“What’s takin’ him so long anyway? Should we just bust in?” Thianne starts winding up as if she were about to break down his, magically enchanted by the way, door.
You can’t help but laugh. The more you get to know Thianne, the more you realise just how much humour is hidden behind her dead-pan expression. “Let’s just wait for him to join us.” <<endif>>\
Once he does, the three of you head outside. Today’s plan is to allocate space in the city for the festival. There will be quite a number of stalls and tents you’ll have to fit into the narrow streets and alleyways. Why this job falls to Az’Lean and Thianne of all people you have no idea. You’re mostly just along for the ride.
As you walk across the marketplace to decide on a location for the stage, you spot Vynn sitting at the edge of the fountain, lute in hand. You wonder whether they are on a break or whether they have ditched their duties entirely.
Az’Lean notices where you’re looking. “Feel free to join them for a minute, $playername. You’ll be able to keep watch on me from over there as well, right?”
You raise an eyebrow. “What, do you want to get rid of me?”
Az’Lean blinks at you. “I was just offering.”
[[You go to have a chat with Vynn.|Chapter7C12A]]
[[You stay with Az’Lean and Thianne.|Chapter7C12B]]
“Maybe it has something to do with the presence of the Gods. Back then, they were a lot more involved, weren’t they?” you speculate.
“That’s what people say. That they used to walk this earth same as us, but now they don’t ever leave the Otherworld anymore. Who knows how true any of that really is. A lot of fae think the Gods would favour them over humans, but I don’t think that’s true. They created us both, after all. Either way, there’s no relying on them.”
It’s a pointless train of thought after all. Even if there were answers to be found in the sphere of the Gods, you’re not the one who would find them. There’s only so much that can be achieved by offering prayers and conducting divinations.
“Say, Maeve. Can you transport objects through your connection with this tree?” you ask, suddenly haven gotten an idea. “I mean, it works with your dress, right?”
“It only works with objects that were grown in my grove. My dress is woven from plant material,” Maeve explains. “Why? Do you want me to bring you a souvenir?”
“I was just wondering whether you could write something down for me. Let’s say you want to give me information or conduct a lesson, could you bring a stack of papers with you?”
“Oh, yes that’s possible. Paper and charcoal can be made here, though not in large quantities. But if it’s a few sheets of paper, that’d be within my capabilities.” You can hear Maeve smiling. “Is there something you want me to write down for you?”
“Could you give me something like a timeline of events that pertains to the conflict? With exact dates if you know them, just so I can understand everything better.” You feel like it could be a good idea to compare what Maeve knows with what is written in the library’s history books.
“I would need to fact check a few things, but I could do that. Do you want me to prepare something like that for our next meeting?”
“That would be very helpful of you.”
Maeve giggles. “My, how studious of you. Your interest makes me very happy!”
Just as you are about to answer her, you spot someone in the corner of your eye. Vynn and the other knights are about to finish their patrol and head back, which will take them past where you're standing. In less than a minute, they'll be dangerously close to being able to hear you, even if you whisper.
[[Leave the tree immediately, without another word. Maeve will understand what’s happening.|Chapter7C11]]
[[“Someone’s coming. Goodbye, Maeve,” you whisper quickly before stepping away from the tree.|Chapter7C11]]“Maybe it has something to do with the technological advancements that humans have made in the time since back then. After all, it is steel that hurts fae the most,” you speculate.
“That’s something I never understood. Metals come from the earth, so they are part of nature same as anything else. Why, then, do they hurt us so? There is something in them that is poison to us but not to humans, and I wonder why that is. The Gods playing a trick on us? Or something the humans came up with? One could argue that it is some type of conspiracy.”
It might be an avenue worthy of further investigation. If you could figure out the reason why metal hurts fae, you might better understand the fundamental differences between them and humans. Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. You personally would be very thankful if touching metal wouldn’t cause you pain and discomfort. Then again, it might tip the balance completely in the favour of the fae if there were some way around it, and you don’t know whether making humans defenceless would do anyone any good.
“Say, Maeve. Can you transport objects through your connection with this tree?” you ask, suddenly haven gotten an idea. “I mean, it works with your dress, right?”
“It only works with objects that were grown in my grove. My dress is woven from plant material,” Maeve explains. “Why? Do you want me to bring you a souvenir?”
“I was just wondering whether you could write something down for me. Let’s say you want to give me information or conduct a lesson, could you bring a stack of papers with you?”
“Oh, yes that’s possible. Paper and charcoal can be made here, though not in large quantities. But if it’s a few sheets of paper, that’d be within my capabilities.” You can hear Maeve smiling. “Is there something you want me to write down for you?”
“Could you give me something like a timeline of events that pertains to the conflict? With exact dates if you know them, just so I can understand everything better.” You feel like it could be a good idea to compare what Maeve knows with what is written in the library’s history books.
“I would need to fact check a few things, but I could do that. Do you want me to prepare something like that for our next meeting?”
“That would be very helpful of you.”
Maeve giggles. “My, how studious of you. Your interest makes me very happy!”
Just as you are about to answer her, you spot someone in the corner of your eye. Vynn and the other knights are about to finish their patrol and head back, which will take them past where you're standing. In less than a minute, they'll be dangerously close to being able to hear you, even if you whisper.
[[Leave the tree immediately, without another word. Maeve will understand what’s happening.|Chapter7C11]]
[[“Someone’s coming. Goodbye, Maeve,” you whisper quickly before stepping away from the tree.|Chapter7C11]]No matter who you end up spending your time with, you better make it count. It would be naive of you to think that there will be many more chances to come. In your line of work, death is always a possibility, not to mention everything else that has been going on. It will be a challenge not to think too much about it during the festival, but you owe it to yourself and your loved ones to seize this opportunity to celebrate.
Vynn seems touched by your promise and jovially bumps their shoulder into yours. The two of you sit in silence for a little while; Vynn’s lute rests silently on their lap.
It doesn’t take long before Az’Lean and Thianne join you.
“I heard you’re going to perform,” Az’Lean says by way of greeting. “I hope I get the chance to hear it.”
“I mean, you could just as well order me to serenade you any time,” Vynn says with a grin. “Actually, maybe I should just stop being a knight and become your personal court musician instead. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Thianne snorts. “Az’Lean would only request depressing war ballads.”
Az’Lean doesn’t even try to refute her claim.
“What would you request, Thianne?” you ask out of curiosity.
“Something without vocals. I can’t concentrate on reading if I hear spoken words.”
Vynn smiles. “That makes sense. I bet you could enchant a lute to play by itself, couldn’t you?”
Thianne’s eyes light up. “Hm. Maybe.”
“What type of music do you enjoy, $playername?” Az'Lean asks.
[[“I like love songs. The more romantic, the better.”|Chapter7C14]]
[[“I too enjoy war ballads, especially heroic ones.”|Chapter7C14]]
[[“I like anything that’s witty and full of wordplay.”|Chapter7C14]]
[[“I like music that’s somber and enchanting.”|Chapter7C14]]
<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
“Then I’ll just go and see how they’re doing real quick. I’ll be back in a second,” you say and leave Az’Lean and Thianne to their deliberations about the stage.
Vynn seems to be completely lost in thought as you approach them.
“Please tell me you’re not ditching work,” you say as you sit down next to them. The fountain’s stones are pleasantly cool to the touch and you’re just out of range of the water’s spray.
Vynn plays one lonely note. “I’m supposed to be practising for my performance during the festival, but I’m actually depressed right now. Do you know what I had to give up in exchange for being allowed on stage? I have to work a shift every single day of the festival! I’d like to say I’ll just give up on sleep so I’ll have time to attend, but what if something happens and I’m sleep-deprived? That’s just too much responsibility for someone like me, you know?”
“You’re not even getting a single day off? Are the knights that short-staffed?”
“It’s all because that changeling breached the castle last week,” Vynn says with a sigh. “Though I personally think increasing the presence of the knights to this degree will just increase tensions among the festival-goers.”
You can’t help but frown. “That will make it difficult for us to spend any time together. I doubt our schedules will end up lining up much.”
Vynn turns to look at you. “Is it weird that I’m getting jealous of Az’Lean?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he gets to spend all day every day with you, while I’m here just endlessly patrolling. I miss your presence amongst the knights, $playername. I’m only now realising how much easier it all was with you. Me, by myself, I would have never even gotten through squire training.”
“Vynn…” You want to tell them they’re wrong but you know it’s the truth. Not for a lack of ability, no, but you were always the one pushing Vynn to do their training, to fulfil their duties and not fall behind on their work. Not having anyone to push them now must make them feel incredibly demotivated.
Vynn smiles softly. “Sorry, I know that’s a weird thing to bring up all of a sudden. I get it, we’re adults now, we have jobs to do, and we won’t be together forever. I just have to come to terms with it. Still, I do hope we can at least spend a little time together at the festival, limited though it may be.”
“I’ll make time for you, somehow,” you say.
It does make you think though. If you only have a limited amount of time to actually enjoy the festival, who would you prioritise spending it with?
[[Your parents, probably. After all, you don't get to see them often.|Chapter7C13A]]
[[Vynn, of course.|Chapter7C13A]]
[[Az'Lean. You want to make some memories with him that are removed from your duty.|Chapter7C13A]]
[[Thianne. It'd be the perfect opportunity to get closer to her.|Chapter7C13A]]
[[Lester. He seems like the type of person who knows exactly how to get the most fun out of an event like this.|Chapter7C13A]]
[[Maybe you could sneak off to see Maeve instead?|Chapter7C13A]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>> <<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
“It’s fine, I’m not going to let you and Thianne do all the work by yourself,” you say, much to Thianne’s relief.
The three of you walk around the marketplace, trying to judge where there isn’t a lot of sunlight that could blind the people watching the stage.
“Would you mind running me through the program again, Az’Lean?” Thianne asks. “I don’t even think one central stage would be enough with the amount I assume you have planned.”
Az’Lean frowns. “You think? Well, my father is going to officially start the festival on the 8th during noon with some sort of speech. The first day will be mostly relaxed, since it’s still the arrival day for a lot of visitors. There’s going to be some music during the day while all the vendors are setting up and people are gathering. Then, at night, I’ll deliver a speech of my own, which will serve as a final welcome to all of our guests.”
“The second day is dedicated to children and families, right?” you ask. “I could see the need for more than one stage then. Not everyone wants to watch performances aimed at kids.”
Thianne grimaces “Don’t tell me there are going to be jesters.”
“Of course there will be. As well as acrobats, story-tellers, theatre performances, magical displays, and music of course.” Az’Lean says with a proud smile. “Many of them were hand-picked by me.”
Thianne doesn’t seem to share in his excitement. “And all of them on one single stage?”
“They’ll take turns, obviously. There are 24 hours to fill, after all. Non-stop entertainment, no need for a second stage.”
You doubt anyone is going to be watching jesters at four in the morning, especially no kids, but who are you to disrupt the plan at this point.
Thianne sighs. “Whatever you say. What’s happenin’ on the third day?”
“The third day is in service of the Gods and the New Deity. While there will be shrines offering services all around the city, priests will hold sermons on the stage for a more centralised audience. The main focus will be on the New Deity, but other Gods and Goddesses will be represented as well.” Az’Lean hesitates a bit before saying the next part. “I look forward to hearing the sermon about Wyrd. If I get the chance to, that is.”
“The Goddess of Fate?” you ask. “I never really got the chance to learn much about her.”
“You’re not missin’ much,” Thianne mumbles to herself.
Az’Lean clears his throat. “Anyway, the fourth and final day is for all out celebration. Drinking, dancing, all of that. The Midnight Dance will be the biggest part of that. So, as you can see, one stage should be enough according to how I planned it.”
“Is there a reason for that? Do you want everyone to be bunched up in one place?” you ask.
“Precisely. It might seem like a large mass of people would be more difficult to keep secure than two smaller ones, but you don’t run the risk of getting attacked in multiple places at once. Our magical wards as well as our knights and guards will be in more centralised positions, which will make it easier for them to communicate and respond quickly to any threat.”
Thianne crosses her arms. “So it’s an all or nothing strategy. I can see the reasonin’ behind it, though I don’t necessarily agree that this is the best option. We’ll just have to make sure nothing happens either way.”
“I don’t mind giving up on my day off if you need any extra knights on patrol,” you say. “I’m sure it’s a tight schedule.”
Az’Lean tugs at a strand of hair. “I’m not sure. I’d like to just give you free reign for all four days, but if there’s ever a situation where I might actually be in danger, it’d be a festival like this. I do promise you’ll get at least one day to spend with your family and friends.”
In the end, you’ll be happy with however much time you get.
It does make you think though. If you only have a limited amount of time to actually enjoy the festival, who would you prioritise spending it with?
[[Your parents, probably. After all, you don't get to see them often.|Chapter7C13B]]
[[Vynn, of course.|Chapter7C13B]]
[[Az'Lean. You want to make some memories with him that are removed from your duty.|Chapter7C13B]]
[[Thianne. It'd be the perfect opportunity to get closer to her.|Chapter7C13B]]
[[Lester. He seems like the type of person who knows exactly how to get the most fun out of an event like this.|Chapter7C13B]]
[[Maybe you could sneak off to see Maeve instead?|Chapter7C13B]]No matter who you end up spending your time with, you better make it count. It would be naive of you to think that there will be many more chances to come. In your line of work, death is always a possibility, not to mention everything else that has been going on. It will be a challenge not to think too much about it during the festival, but you owe it to yourself and your loved ones to seize this opportunity to celebrate.
Az’Lean and Thianne seem to be thinking about who they plan to spend their time with as well. It wouldn’t surprise you if they just spent it with each other.
“I heard you’re going to perform,” Az’Lean says by way of greeting. “I hope I get the chance to hear it.”
“I mean, you could just as well order me to serenade you any time,” Vynn says with agrin. “Actually, maybe I should just stop being a knight and become your personal court musician instead. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Thianne snorts. “Az’Lean would only request depressing war ballads.”
Az’Lean doesn’t even try to refute her claim.
“What would you request, Thianne?” you ask out of curiosity.
“Something without vocals. I can’t concentrate on reading if I hear spoken words.”
Vynn smiles. “That makes sense. I bet you could enchant a lute to play by itself, couldn’t you?”
Thianne’s eyes light up. “Hm. Maybe.”
“What type of music do you enjoy, $playername?” Az'Lean asks.
[[“I like love songs. The more romantic, the better.”|Chapter7C14]]
[[“I too enjoy war ballads, especially heroic ones.”|Chapter7C14]]
[[“I like anything that’s witty and full of wordplay.”|Chapter7C14]]
[[“I like music that’s somber and enchanting.”|Chapter7C14]]
<<if $element == "fire">>
Maeve spends a few evenings giving you a crash course on the ritual to erase memories you had discussed with her earlier. It turns out to be not as complex as it first sounded, but it does seem to require a large amount of magical energy as well as precise control. You have no choice but to spend your free time practising it if you want to be somewhat competent at it. <<set $element to "camp">>
The bigger problem will likely be getting some of Thianne's blood without her noticing. You wonder whether there might be an opportunity during the festival. Maybe if Vynn were to help you, you could come up with a scenario that might be able to trick her. Just outright attacking her and making her bleed is neither something that you want to do, nor is it something that is likely to go over well.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Maeve spends a few evenings giving you a crash course on the ritual to erase memories you had discussed with her earlier. It turns out to be not as complex as it first sounded, but it does seem to require a large amount of magical energy as well as precise control. You have no choice but to spend your free time practising it if you want to be somewhat competent at it.<<set $element to "river">>
The bigger problem will likely be getting some of Thianne's blood without her noticing. You wonder whether there might be an opportunity during the festival. Maybe if Vynn were to help you, you could come up with a scenario that might be able to trick her. Just outright attacking her and making her bleed is neither something that you want to do, nor is it something that is likely to go over well.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Maeve spends a few evenings giving you a crash course on the ritual to erase memories you had discussed with her earlier. It turns out to be not as complex as it first sounded, but it does seem to require a large amount of magical energy as well as precise control. You have no choice but to spend your free time practising it if you want to be somewhat competent at it.<<set $element to "crystal">>
The bigger problem will likely be getting some of Thianne's blood without her noticing. You wonder whether there might be an opportunity during the festival. Maybe if Vynn were to help you, you could come up with a scenario that might be able to trick her. Just outright attacking her and making her bleed is neither something that you want to do, nor is it something that is likely to go over well.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
Maeve spends a few evenings giving you a crash course on the ritual to erase memories you had discussed with her earlier. It turns out to be not as complex as it first sounded, but it does seem to require a large amount of magical energy as well as precise control. You have no choice but to spend your free time practising it if you want to be somewhat competent at it.<<set $element to "breeze">>
The bigger problem will likely be getting some of Thianne's blood without her noticing. You wonder whether there might be an opportunity during the festival. Maybe if Vynn were to help you, you could come up with a scenario that might be able to trick her. Just outright attacking her and making her bleed is neither something that you want to do, nor is it something that is likely to go over well.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8B2]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8C2]]
<<endif>>\You feel like learning some elemental fae magic could give you an edge in battle over opponents who only know human magic. With it being elemental, it also wouldn’t immediately stand out as being fae magic, so you should be able to use it without arousing any sort of suspicion. It definitely seems like the type of magic you can never go wrong in learning.
<<if $element == "fire">>
Since you are already proficient with human fire magic, it makes sense to build on that knowledge. Lester is overjoyed when you invite him to join your magic lessons, and he imparts you with everything he knows about fae fire. Together with Maeve, you learn how to use wind to increase the potency of your fire, as well as how to gain greater control over it.<<set $element to "blaze">>
It only takes a few days before you are able to create large bursts of fire that move exactly as you want them to. It's an impressive display and you can't help but wonder whether this would be enough to melt Az'Lean's ice magic.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Since your expertise lies with divination magic, it makes sense to delve more deeply into how you can use water offensively. It isn't unlike Vynn's water magic, but there seems to be a distinct difference between human water magic and fae water magic. While Vynn uses their magic to summon and move around bodies of water, Maeve teaches you how to harness water that is already aound you.<<set $element to "torrent">>
It only takes a few days before you are able to move drops of water at such speeds that they can easily cut through flesh. When you tell Vynn about it in excitement, the look they give you silences you quickly. It seems they don't approve of what Maeve taught you, though you don't quite understand why.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Since you only know healing magic so far, it wouldn't be a bad idea to add something new to your repertoire. Maeve suggests that plant magic, the type that dryads use as well, might be a good fit for you, since it isn't unlike healing magic in the way it focuses on accelerating growth. She shows you how to use plants in your vicinity against your opponent - how to move vines, bring fourth poisonous spores, and let sturdy roots errupt from the ground to grab someone's ankles.<<set $element to "quake">>
Admittedly, this type of magic is only really useful when you are out in nature, but then that is precisely where your normal weapons alone might fail you. More importantly, it's a type of magic humans aren't familiar with and can't easily counter.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
Since the illusion magic you already know combines both light magic and air magic, Maeve advises you to focus on expanding your knowledge of air magic. She teaches you how to harness the wind, how to summon powerful gusts of your own and push anything that might harm you out of the way. It isn't only a type of magic that is powerful offensively, but it is versatile as well.<<set $element to "storm">>
It only takes a few days for you to get the hang of it, and soon enough you are able to control the flow of air around you. You wonder if you could combine it with your illusion magic in interesting ways.
<<endif>>\
More than once, Maeve praises you for being a quick study. You wonder whether this sort of adaptability is something inherent to being a changeling, or whether you are just a fast learner because of your discipline and willingness to listen.
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8B2]]You feel like learning some magic that could improve your abilities of deception is the smartest use of your time. As long as you keep your secret, you can always learn other types of magic later. Besides, if you were suddenly able to perform entirely new feats of magic, that would draw even more attention to yourself. No, better to play it safe.
<<if $element == "fire">>
Since you are already proficient with fire magic, a simple new trick that Maeve suggests you could learn is the ability to generate and control smoke. It could be a useful ability if you ever need to get away unseen or there is something you wish to obscure. Lester seems to be an expert in using this technique as well and he jumps at the opportunity to show you how it works.<<set $element to "smoke">>
It only takes a few days of practise before you are able to get a handle on it. You are even able to shroud yourself in smoke without it damaging your lungs or eyes. Coupled with your ability to completely change your appearance, you now have a few options on how to escape from a dangerous situation.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Since your speciality is divination magic, it takes Maeve a while to come up with something that complements that and could be used for deception. In the end, she suggests you should learn how to not only project predictions onto a surface of water, but any type of image. That way, you could use it to perform fake divinations or create illusions on bodies of water.<<set $element to "fog">>
Although it does seem somewhat situational, the idea of being able to show someone an entirely fabricated fortune is appealing. It only takes you a few days to get the hang of it, though having the guts to actually use it on some unsuspecting person is another matter entirely.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Since you are already proficient in healing magic, Maeve suggests an unorthodox use of it that could be advantageous to you. She explains to you that its possible to not only fake symptoms of certain illnesses or injuries, but to do it at such a level that even a healer or doctor will declare them real. You could use that create an alibi for yourself by pretending to be out of commission.<<set $element to "dust">>
When asked about whether you could give these fake symptoms to someone else, Maeve says that something like that would be unreliable and only work for a short period of time. Nevertheless, it sounds like a useful application of magic, and so you spend some time practising it.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
The fact that you already know how to cast illusion magic makes it easy for Maeve to come up with something that would complement that and could also be used for deception. Since illusions are based on light magic, she suggests learning how to do the opposite as well - creating pockets of darkness. You remember that the other changeling was able to do that as well, and it seemed like a powerful tool then.<<set $element to "cloud">>
You are motivated to learn this new type of darkness magic quickly. After a few days of practising, you are already somewhat proficient with it and can create small clouds of darkness at will.
<<endif>>\
More than once, Maeve praises you for being a quick study. You wonder whether this sort of adaptability is something inherent to being a changeling, or whether you are just a fast learner because of your discipline and willingness to listen.
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8B2]]
You feel like learning some magic that has a lot of different applications is the best use of your time. There’s so much you still don’t know and you can’t even properly grasp the scope of what is possible with fae magic, so it would be a bad idea to specialise in something without thinking it through. So for now, the more versatile, the better.
<<if $element == "fire">>
Since you already know how to do some basic fire magic, Maeve advises you to expand on that. Lester immediately jumps at the opportunity to teach you all kinds of applications of fire magic, though in the end you settle on starting with some basic heat control. Whether it be objects, your own body, or the air around you - manipulating heat sounds like something that could come in handy in many different ways.<<set $element to "hearth">>
It only takes a few days of practise before you get the hang of it and it turns out to be well worth it. From now on, both your bath water and your food are always at exactly the temperature you want them to be at.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Since your divination magic is already very specialised, it seems like a good idea to learn something a little more basic. Because you need water to perform your divinations, it only makes sense for you to learn how to summon water - just like Vynn does. It turns out to be quite difficult, but always having water at the ready could be a life-saving ability to possess in certain situations.<<set $element to "sink">>
After a few days of practise with both Maeve and Vynn, you are able to summon handfuls of water at a time. Your control of it isn't nearly as good as Vynn's, but you can create water reliably, and that is enough for now.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Since you already know how to cast healing magic, Maeve suggests you should stick with similar types of support magic. One thing that could be both versatile and worth learning is how to errect protective wards without the use of rune stones. Being able to protect yourself and others with more than just armour or a physical shield can't ever be a bad ability to possess.<<set $element to "field">>
After a few days of practising, you are able to summon a small barrier in front of you. It's range isn't great and it doesn't last for very long, but every time you create a new one, it comes easier to you. If you keep at it, you'll be able to master it soon enough.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
Since the illusion magic you already know is mainly based on light magic, Maeve advises you to expand on that. She suggests you should learn how to create permanent light sources and how to manipulate them at will. Not only would it be a potent counter against darkness magic like the one that other changeling was using, but it could also be used to send signals to people, lure enemies closer or even blind them.<<set $element to "fresh">>
After a few days of practise, you are able to summon multiple orbs of light and move them around at will. They aren't particularly bright yet and vanish after a while, but you are making considerable progress at learning this new ability.
<<endif>>\
More than once, Maeve praises you for being a quick study. You wonder whether this sort of adaptability is something inherent to being a changeling, or whether you are just a fast learner because of your discipline and willingness to listen.
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8B2]]
<i>Your fighting style has been updated.</i>
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 8th of the Midday Moon
!!!First Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
The sun rises especially early on the first day of the festival. It makes sense, after all the solstice is fast approaching.
You know that today will be very busy for you. Around noon, you will have to accompany Az’Lean as he welcomes a number of guests. After that, the festival will officially begin with a speech from King Az’Marn. You should have a little free time after that, but you know that you will be dining with the other nobles in the evening - your parents will likely be there as well. After that, Az’Lean will end the first day with a speech of his own.
Before any of that, however, you’ll need to get ready. Since you are on duty, you’ll have to wear your armour and arm yourself. At the same time, you also want to look presentable on an occasion like this one.
You decide to go for something unconventional and wear a purple sash made of silk across your armour. If it weren’t such a warm day you might add a cape as well, but there isn’t a single cloud in sight, so you refrain. You spend some time adjusting your $hairstyle $haircolor hair until you are satisfied before heading out and picking up Az’Lean.
As it turns out, the prince is already waiting in front of his room. He has put a lot of effort into his appearance as well - his blond hair is pulled into a braid that lays across his left shoulder, carefully interwoven with bright blue satin strands, he is wearing a turquoise purpoint with white embroidery, and aside from his signet ring he is also wearing a few golden bands.
Az’Lean looks up as you arrive, a conflicted expression on his face. “Do you think it would be unreasonable for me to wear armour as well, $playername?” he asks instead of a greeting.
“I can’t deny you would probably be safer in it,” you admit, “though people would likely feel worried if they saw their prince all decked out.”
“Fair enough,” Az’Lean says and adjusts his braid. “I do think I’ll grab my sword, however.”
He disappears in his room for a second and returns with his blacksteel sword strapped to his hip.
“Now I’m ready. Let’s head out.”
The two of you make your way through the castle. It is bustling with servants who are busy preparing all of the spare guest chamber, carrying in luggage, flower arrangements, and freshly washed linen sheets.
As you exit the castle, the city itself is in a similar state. Although a lot of banners and garlands have already been hung up, there’s still much to be done. Stalls are being set up, wagons are pulled through the streets carrying people and goods, and guards are desperately trying to create some semblance of order. It already smells like meat is being roasted somewhere and a chattering of excited voices fills the air.
“Where should we go to greet the guests? The city gates?” you ask.
Az’Lean shakes his head. “That would slow everything down. Let’s just linger here on the main road. That way, while we wait for our guests to pass by here as they make their way to the castle, the commoners get a chance to see me as well.”
You and Az’Lean stand off to the side of the road, waving whenever people look your way. The people seem to be happy to get a glimpse of their prince, and a few of them even come up to shake his hand.
[[You know you are supposed to be on high alert, but you find yourself getting distracted by all of the sights and sounds around you.|Chapter8B3]]<i>Your fighting style has been updated.</i>
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 8th of the Midday Moon
!!!First Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
The sun rises especially early on the first day of the festival. It makes sense, after all the solstice is fast approaching.
You know that today will be very busy for you. Around noon, you will have to accompany Az’Lean as he welcomes a number of guests. After that, the festival will officially begin with a speech from King Az’Marn. You should have a little free time after that, but you know that you will be dining with the other nobles in the evening - your parents will likely be there as well. After that, Az’Lean will end the first day with a speech of his own.
Before any of that, however, you’ll need to get ready. Since you are on duty, you’ll have to wear your armour and arm yourself. At the same time, you also want to look presentable on an occasion like this one.
You decide to wear your ceremonial surcoat over your armour. If it weren’t such a warm day you might add a cape as well, but there isn’t a single cloud in sight, so you refrain. You spend some time adjusting your $hairstyle $haircolor hair until you are satisfied before heading out and picking up Az’Lean.
As it turns out, the prince is already waiting in front of his room. He has put a lot of effort into his appearance as well - his blond hair is pulled into a braid that lays across his left shoulder, carefully interwoven with bright blue satin strands, he is wearing a turquoise purpoint with white embroidery, and aside from his signet ring he is also wearing a few golden bands.
Az’Lean looks up as you arrive, a conflicted expression on his face. “Do you think it would be unreasonable for me to wear armour as well, $playername?” he asks instead of a greeting.
“I can’t deny you would probably be safer in it,” you admit, “though people would likely feel worried if they saw their prince all decked out.”
“Fair enough,” Az’Lean says and adjusts his braid. “I do think I’ll grab my sword, however.”
He disappears in his room for a second and returns with his blacksteel sword strapped to his hip.
“Now I’m ready. Let’s head out.”
The two of you make your way through the castle. It is bustling with servants who are busy preparing all of the spare guest chamber, carrying in luggage, flower arrangements, and freshly washed linen sheets.
As you exit the castle, the city itself is in a similar state. Although a lot of banners and garlands have already been hung up, there’s still much to be done. Stalls are being set up, wagons are pulled through the streets, carrying people and goods, and guards are desperately trying to create some semblance of order. It already smells like meat is being roasted somewhere and a chattering of excited voices fills the air.
“Where should we go to greet the guests? The city gates?” you ask.
Az’Lean shakes his head. “That would slow down everything. Let’s just linger here on the main road. That way, while we wait for our guests to pass by here as they make their way to the castle, the commoners get a chance to see me as well.”
You and Az’Lean stand off to the side of the road, waving whenever people look your way. The people seem to be happy to get a glimpse of their prince, and a few of them even come up to shake his hand.
[[All the while, you are on high alert, staying vigilant just in case any of these people might present a threat.|Chapter8A3]]<i>Your fighting style has been updated.</i>
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 8th of the Midday Moon
!!!First Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
The sun rises especially early on the first day of the festival. It makes sense, after all the solstice is fast approaching.
You know that today will be very busy for you. Around noon, you will have to accompany Az’Lean as he welcomes a number of guests. After that, the festival will officially begin with a speech from King Az’Marn. You should have a little free time after that, but you know that you will be dining with the other nobles in the evening - your parents will likely be there as well. After that, Az’Lean will end the first day with a speech of his own.
Before any of that, however, you’ll need to get ready. Since you are on duty, you’ll have to wear your armour and arm yourself. At the same time, you also want to look presentable on an occasion like this one.
You decide to wear a stylish wine red surcoat over your armour. If it weren’t such a warm day you might add a cape as well, but there isn’t a single cloud in sight, so you refrain. You spend some time adjusting your $hairstyle $haircolor hair until you are satisfied before heading out and picking up Az’Lean.
As it turns out, the prince is already waiting in front of his room. He has put a lot of effort into his appearance as well - his blond hair is pulled into a braid that lays across his left shoulder, carefully interwoven with bright blue satin strands, he is wearing a turquoise purpoint with white embroidery, and aside from his signet ring he is also wearing a few golden bands.
Az’Lean looks up as you arrive, a conflicted expression on his face. “Do you think it would be unreasonable for me to wear armour as well, $playername?” he asks instead of a greeting.
“I can’t deny you would probably be safer in it,” you admit, “though people would likely feel worried if they saw their prince all decked out.”
“Fair enough,” Az’Lean says and adjusts his braid. “I do think I’ll grab my sword, however.”
He disappears in his room for a second and returns with his blacksteel sword strapped to his hip.
“Now I’m ready. Let’s head out.”
The two of you make your way through the castle. It is bustling with servants who are busy preparing all of the spare guest chamber, carrying in luggage, flower arrangements, and freshly washed linen sheets.
As you exit the castle, the city itself is in a similar state. Although a lot of banners and garlands have already been hung up, there’s still much to be done. Stalls are being set up, wagons are pulled through the streets carrying people and goods, and guards are desperately trying to create some semblance of order. It already smells like meat is being roasted somewhere and a chattering of excited voices fills the air.
“Where should we go to greet the guests? The city gates?” you ask.
Az’Lean shakes his head. “That would slow everything down. Let’s just linger here on the main road. That way, while we wait for our guests to pass by here as they make their way to the castle, the commoners get a chance to see me as well.”
You and Az’Lean stand off to the side of the road, waving whenever people look your way. The people seem to be happy to get a glimpse of their prince, and a few of them even come up to shake his hand.
[[All the while, you remain alert, just in case something unexpected happens. You are not only looking out for Az’Lean - a large mass of people could be a danger to any of the guests here.|Chapter8C3]]You feel like learning some magic that has a lot of different applications is the best use of your time. There’s so much you still don’t know and you can’t even properly grasp the scope of what is possible with fae magic, so it would be a bad idea to specialise in something without thinking it through. So for now, the more versatile, the better.
<<if $element == "fire">>
Since you already know how to do some basic fire magic, Maeve advises you to expand on that. In the end you settle on starting with some basic heat control. Whether it be objects, your own body, or the air around you - manipulating heat sounds like something that could come in handy in many different ways.<<set $element to "hearth">>
It only takes a few days of practise before you get the hang of it and it turns out to be well worth it. From now on, both your bath water and your food are always at exactly the temperature you want them to be at.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Since your divination magic is already very specialised, it seems like a good idea to learn something a little more basic. Because you need water to perform your divinations, it only makes sense for you to learn how to summon water - just like Vynn does. It turns out to be quite difficult, but always having water at the ready could a life-saving ability to possess in certain situations.<<set $element to "sink">>
After a few days of practise with both Maeve and Vynn, you are able to summon handfuls of water at a time. Your control of it isn't nearly as good as Vynn's, but you can create water reliably, and that is enough for now.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Since you already know how to cast healing magic, Maeve suggests you should stick with similar types of support magic. One thing that could be both versatile and worth learning is how to errect protective wards without the use of rune stones. Being able to protect yourself and others with more than just armour or a physical shield can't ever be a bad ability to possess.<<set $element to "field">>
After a few days of practising, you are able to summon a small barrier in front of you. It's range isn't great and it doesn't last for very long, but every time you create a new one, it comes easier to you. If you keep at it, you'll be able to master it soon enough.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
Since the illusion magic you already know is mainly based on light magic, Maeve advises you to expand on that. She suggests you should learn how to create permanent light sources and how to manipulate them at will. Not only would it be a potent counter against darkness magic like the one that other changeling was using, but it could also be used to send signals to people, lure enemies closer or even blind them.<<set $element to "fresh">>
After a few days of practise, you are able to summon multiple orbs of light and move them around at will. They aren't particularly bright yet and vanish after a while, but you are making considerable progress at learning this new ability.
<<endif>>\
More than once, Maeve praises you for being a quick study. You wonder whether this sort of adaptability is something inherent to being a changeling, or whether you are just a fast learner because of your discipline and willingness to listen.
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8C2]]You feel like learning some magic that could improve your abilities of deception is the smartest use of your time. As long as you keep your secret, you can always learn other types of magic later. Besides, if you were suddenly able to perform entirely new feats of magic, that would draw even more attention to yourself. No, better to play it safe.
<<if $element == "fire">>
Since you are already proficient with fire magic, a simple new trick that Maeve suggests you could learn is the ability to generate and control smoke. It could be a useful ability if you ever need to get away unseen or there is something you wish to obscure.<<set $element to "smoke">>
It only takes a few days of practise before you are able to get a handle on it. You are even able to shroud yourself in smoke without it damaging your lungs or eyes. Coupled with your ability to completely change your appearance, you now have a few options on how to escape from a dangerous situation.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Since your speciality is divination magic, it takes Maeve a while to come up with something that complements that and could be used for deception. In the end, she suggests you should learn how to not only project predictions onto a surface of water, but any type of image. That way, you could use it to perform fake divinations or create illusions on bodies of water.<<set $element to "fog">>
Although it does seem somewhat situational, the idea of being able to show someone an entirely fabricated fortune is appealing. It only takes you a few days to get the hang of it, though having the guts to actually use it on some unsuspecting person is another matter entirely.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Since you are already proficient in healing magic, Maeve suggests an unorthodox use of it that could be advantageous to you. She explains to you that its possible to not only fake symptoms of certain illnesses or injuries, but to do it at such a level that even a healer or doctor will declare them real. You could use that create an alibi for yourself by pretending to be out of commission.<<set $element to "dust">>
When asked about whether you could give these fake symptoms to someone else, Maeve says that something like that would be unreliable and only work for a short period of time. Nevertheless, it sounds like a useful application of magic, and so you spend some time practising it.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
The fact that you already know how to cast illusion magic makes it easy for Maeve to come up with something that would complement that and could also be used for deception. Since illusions are based on light magic, she suggests learning how to the opposite as well - creating pockets of darkness. You remember that the other changeling was able to do that as well, and it seemed like a powerful tool then.<<set $element to "cloud">>
You are motivated to learn this new type of darkness magic quickly. After a few days of practising, you are already somewhat proficient with it and can create small clouds of darkness at will.
<<endif>>\
More than once, Maeve praises you for being a quick study. You wonder whether this sort of adaptability is something inherent to being a changeling, or whether you are just a fast learner because of your discipline and willingness to listen.
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8C2]]You feel like learning some elemental fae magic could give you an edge in battle over opponents who only know human magic. With it being elemental, it also wouldn’t immediately stand out as being fae magic, so you should be able to use it without arousing any sort of suspicion. It definitely seems like the type of magic you can never go wrong in learning.
<<if $element == "fire">>
Since you are already proficient with human fire magic, it makes sense to build on that knowledge. Maeve explains to you how to use wind to increase the potency of your fire, as well as how to gain greater control over it.<<set $element to "blaze">>
It only takes a few days before you see some improvement and are able to create larger bursts of fire than before. It's an impressive display and you can't help but wonder whether this would be enough to melt Az'Lean's ice magic.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
Since your expertise lies with divination magic, it makes sense to delve more deeply into how you can use water offensively. It isn't unlike Vynn's water magic, but there seems to be a distinct difference between human water magic and fae water magic. While Vynn uses their magic to summon and move around bodies of water, Maeve teaches you how to harness water that is already aound you.<<set $element to "torrent">>
It only takes a few days before you make progress and are able to easily move drops of water around at high speeds. With more practise, you could easily learn to use them offensively - like small throwing knives. The look Vynn gives you once you tell them about your steady improvement is unreadable.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
Since you only know healing magic so far, it wouldn't be a bad idea to add something new to your repertoire. Maeve suggests that plant magic, the type that dryads use as well, might be a good fit for you, since it isn't unlike healing magic in the way it focuses on accelerating growth. She explains how to use plants in your vicinity against your opponent - how to move vines, bring fourth poisonous spores, and let sturdy roots errupt from the ground to grab someone's ankles.<<set $element to "quake">>
Admittedly, this type of magic is only really useful when you are out in nature, but then that is precisely where your normal weapons alone might fail you.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
Since the illusion magic you already know combines both light magic and air magic, Maeve advises you to focus on expanding your knowledge of air magic. She teaches you how to harness the wind, how to summon powerful gusts of your own and push anything that might harm you out of the way. It isn't only a type of magic that is powerful offensively, but it is versatile as well.<<set $element to "storm">>
It only takes a few days for you to get the hang of it, and soon enough you are able to control the flow of air around you. You wonder if you could combine it with your illusion magic in interesting ways.
<<endif>>\
More than once, Maeve praises you for being a quick study. You wonder whether this sort of adaptability is something inherent to being a changeling, or whether you are just a fast learner because of your discipline and willingness to listen.
[[Either way, it keeps you busy until the festival begins.|Chapter8C2]]<<unset $shop1>>\
<<unset $shop2>>\
<<unset $parents>>\
<<unset $games>>\
<<unset $love>>\
<<unset $portrait>>\
<<unset $tarot>>\
<<unset $time>>\
<<unset $shop3>>\
<<unset $koto>>\
<<unset $cards>>\
<<unset $dagger>>\
You have reached the end of the current demo. Please make sure to save if you haven't already.
Thank you for playing, and I hope you enjoyed it!
If you want to leave a comment, ask a question, or report a bug, you can do so in the comment section on itch.io, or on my tumblr: https://calliopefiction.tumblr.com/
If you would like to immediately read the next chapter, get access to regular update posts, and other such content, consider supporting me on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/CalliopeFiction
Any and all support is greatly appreciated!<<if $element == "fire">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Sir Asperame, who seems to be doing a bit of light training himself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with him, you ask him to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "firewall">>
You tell him that you want to focus on improving your defence, and so Sir Asperame teaches you a new way to utilise your fire magic - erecting a wall of flames in front of you. It requires a lot of control and concentration, but after a few hours you get the hang of it.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Lady Westwale, who seems to be doing a bit of light training herself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with her, you ask her to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "ice">>
You tell her that you want to focus on improving your defence, and so Lady Westwale shows you how to wield a spear in combination with a shield. Being forced to use the spear only in one hand limits your options, but being able to block her incoming attacks with a shield is a good way to improve your skillset.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Chev Minne, who seems to be doing a bit of light training themself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with them, you ask them to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "mountain">>
You tell them you want to focus on improving your defence, and so Chev Minne hands you a tower shield instead of your usual shield. It is massive and heavy, but blocks just about anything they throw at you. It takes some getting used to, but after a few hours you feel like you're starting to get the hang of it.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Sir Stahlvart, who seems to be doing a bit of light training himself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with him, you ask him to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "front">>
You tell him you want to focus on improving your defence, and so Sir Stahlvart makes you switch your daggers for dual shortswords - keeping a similar fighting style but increasing your reach and area to block with it. They are a lot heavier and more unwieldy than the daggers you're used to, but after a few hours you get the hang of it and are able to win a fight against him.
<<endif>>\
It seems like spending the day training turned out to be a good use of your time. There is a moment where you wonder if maybe you should have used it to relax instead, but you figure you can always use your day off during the festival to kick back instead.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[Either way, it's a good way to spend a day.|Chapter8A2]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[Either way, it's a good way to spend a day.|Chapter8C2]]
<<endif>>\<<if $element == "fire">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Sir Asperame, who seems to be doing a bit of light training himself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with him, you ask him to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "ember">>
You effortlessly combine your fire magic with more straight forward attacks. Sir Asperame shows you a new trick while you are at it - how to engulf your rapier in flames without damaging the metal. It takes incredible control and concentration, but when you figure it out after a while, you feel quite powerful running around with a flaming weapon.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Lady Westwale, who seems to be doing a bit of light training herself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with her, you ask her to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "rain">>
You effortlessly use your spear to pull off all sorts of stunts. Lady Westwale suggest that you should also practise throwing your spear, and the two of you make a contest out of it. While she is victorious at first, after a few hours you've already improved quite a bit at throwing and you end up winning overall.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Chev Minne, who seems to be doing a bit of light training themself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with them, you ask them to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "ground">>
You and Chev Minne quickly find yourself in a stalemate, both of your defences being too great to overcome. They suggest to fight a round without shields and really focus on your swordplay. It turns out to be a good way to practise, and after a few hours you feel quite a bit more confident even without your shield.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Sir Stahlvart, who seems to be doing a bit of light training himself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with him, you ask him to join you and the two of you begin sparring.<<set $element to "wind">>
Your fight quickly devolves into a mess of illusions, neither of you getting the upper hand. Sir Stahlvart suggest that you should fight a round without using any magic and just focus on your daggerplay instead. It turns out to be a good way to practise, and after a few hours you feel quite a bit more confident in your skills.
<<endif>>\
It seems like spending the day training turned out to be a good use of your time. There is a moment where you wonder if maybe you should have used it to relax instead, but you figure you can always use your day off during the festival to kick back instead.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[Either way, it's a good way to spend a day.|Chapter8A2]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[Either way, it's a good way to spend a day.|Chapter8C2]]
<<endif>>\<<if $element == "fire">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Sir Asperame, who seems to be doing a bit of light training himself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with him, you ask him to join you and the two of you set up a row of targets. <<set $element to "beam">>
As you spend some time practising your archery, Sir Asperame also shows you how to use your fire magic to light the tip of an arrow ablaze just after you fire it, making it all the more destructive once it lands. It takes a few hours but you do get the hang of it and feel a great sense of accomplishment.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Lady Westwale, who seems to be doing a bit of light training herself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with her, you ask her to join you and the two of you set up a row of targets. <<set $element to "drop">>
As you spend some time practising your archery, Lady Westwale proves to be an excellent training partner. It is not surprising, after all she is the one who also taught Vynn everything they know. You won't be reaching their level any time soon, but after a few hours you've already improved quite a bit.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run acorss Chev Minne, who seems to be doing a bit of light training themself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with them, you ask them to join you and the two of you set up a row of targets. <<set $element to "stone">>
As you spend some time practising your archery, you quickly realise that Chev Minne seems to struggle with it much more than you do. It seems their eyesight isn't quite perfect. Nevertheless, they are able to give you some advice on your form, and after a few hours you have already improved quite a bit.
<<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">>
When you get to the training grounds, you just so happen to run across Sir Stahlvart, who seems to be doing a bit of light training himself. Since it's a good opportunity to catch up with him, you ask him to join you and the two of you set up a row of targets. <<set $element to "current">>
As you spend some time practising your archery, Sir Stahlvart shows you interesting ways in which you can combine your illusion magic with it. Mainly, he teaches you how to make one arrow look like an entire volley, or how to obscure it completely. It takes a few hours, but you do get the hang of it eventually.
<<endif>>\
It seems like spending the day training turned out to be a good use of your time. There is a moment where you wonder if maybe you should have used it to relax instead, but you figure you can always use your day off during the festival to kick back instead.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[Either way, it's a good way to spend a day.|Chapter8A2]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[Either way, it's a good way to spend a day.|Chapter8C2]]
<<endif>>\As you are watching Az’Lean greet incoming guests, you spot a bunch of familiar faces further down the road, heading towards you. It is the Hollowpeann family - Vynn’s parents and some of their siblings. You know that Vynn’s relationship with their parents is strained but they adore their siblings, so you hope their visit ends up being a good thing.
Lord Glen Hollowpeann is leading the group. He is a very tall, very slender man with slicked back brown hair and a clean shaven face. You have never seen him make an expression that isn’t boredom or contempt. Just a step behind him is Lady Lailah Hollowpeann, whose wild black curls reach down to her waist. She is continuously twirling one of the curls around her finger, looking around anxiously.
Behind them follow three of Vynn’s siblings. Rohan, the eldest son and heir to Hollowpeann territory, Miche, the second eldest daughter and a cleric of Yama, the Goddess of family, and the third eldest daughter, Rikarda, who has just recently married into the Trist family. All three of them look excited to be here.
A gaggle of servants are trailing behind them, carrying their luggage.
You have only met Vynn’s family on rare occasions, usually during festivals like these or when the Hollowpeanns had business with the Grahms. Vynn’s father has always approved of your friendship, hoping you would act as a role model for Vynn, and so has always treated you with the necessary respect.
It doesn’t take long for the Hollowpeanns to reach Az’Lean. While Az’Lean is exchanging handshakes with Lord and Lady Hollowpeann, Rohan claps you on the back in greeting.
“Long time no see, $playername,” he says, voice rough and grin bright. “You’ve really made a name for yourself, haven’t you, Champion?”
“I suppose so,” you say. “How have things been on your end?”
“Still looking for a husband,” he says nonchalantly. “You think I have a shot with the prince?”
“Aren’t you a little too old for him?” Miche chimes in, shoving her older brother to the side so she can stand in front of you as well. “Besides, you’re not King material. Like at all. Right, $playername?”
You laugh awkwardly. “Right. How have you been, Miche?”
She just shrugs. “Same old, same old. Say, do you happen to know Vynn’s schedule? We don’t want to bother them while they’re working, but it’s been a while since we had the chance to catch up.”
“I’m not entirely sure on the details, but I know they’ll be performing on day four,” you say, watching idly as Rikarda wanders around in the background, seemingly uninterested in greeting either you or Az’Lean.
“That’s good to know. Will we see you there as well?” Rohan asks.
[[“Of course! I wouldn’t miss Vynn’s performance for the world.”|Chapter8C4]]
[[“I’ll see if I can make time for it.”|Chapter8C4]]
As you are watching Az’Lean greet incoming guests, you spot a bunch of familiar faces further down the road, heading towards you. It is the Hollowpeann family - Vynn’s parents and some of their siblings. You know that Vynn’s relationship with their parents is strained but they adore their siblings, so you hope their visit ends up being a good thing.
Lord Glen Hollowpeann is leading the group. He is a very tall, very slender man with slicked back brown hair and a clean shaven face. You have never seen him make an expression that isn’t boredom or contempt. Just a step behind him is Lady Lailah Hollowpeann, whose wild black curls reach down to her waist. She is continuously twirling one of the curls around her finger, looking around anxiously.
Behind them follow three of Vynn’s siblings. Rohan, the eldest son and heir to Hollowpeann territory, Miche, the second eldest daughter and a cleric of Yama, the Goddess of family, and the third eldest daughter, Rikarda, who has just recently married into the Trist family. All three of them look excited to be here.
A gaggle of servants are trailing behind them, carrying their luggage.
You have only met Vynn’s family on rare occasions, usually during festivals like these or when the Hollowpeanns had business with the Grahms. Vynn’s father has always approved of your friendship, hoping you would act as a role model for Vynn, and so has always treated you with the necessary respect. If only he knew what you truly were, and that Vynn has decided to support the fae alongside you.
It doesn’t take long for the Hollowpeanns to reach Az’Lean. While Az’Lean is exchanging handshakes with Lord and Lady Hollowpeann, Rohan claps you on the back in greeting.
“Long time no see, $playername,” he says, voice rough and grin bright. “You’ve really made a name for yourself, haven’t you, Champion?”
“I suppose so,” you say. “How have things been on your end?”
“Still looking for a husband,” he says nonchalantly. “You think I have a shot with the prince?”
“Aren’t you a little too old for him?” Miche chimes in, shoving her older brother to the side so she can stand in front of you as well. “Besides, you’re not King material. Like at all. Right, $playername?”
You laugh awkwardly. “Right. How have you been, Miche?”
She just shrugs. “Same old, same old. Say, do you happen to know Vynn’s schedule? We don’t want to bother them while they’re working, but it’s been a while since we had the chance to catch up.”
“I’m not entirely sure on the details, but I know they’ll be performing on day four,” you say, watching idly as Rikarda wanders around in the background, seemingly uninterested in greeting either you or Az’Lean.
“That’s good to know. Will we see you there as well?” Rohan asks.
[[“Of course! I wouldn’t miss Vynn’s performance for the world.”|Chapter8B4]]
[[“I’ll see if I can make time for it.”|Chapter8B4]]
“Of course,” Rohan says good-naturedly.
“Let’s not hold up the line any further, shall we?” Miche says. “We’ll see you later, $playername.”
Rohan and Miche join their parents and exchange greetings with Az’Lean. Rikarda lags behind a bit. When she passes by you, her eyes light up, and you wave at her. She waves back and signs something to you that you are pretty certain means “Hello, it’s good to see you!”
Aside from the few times you have met Rikarda, you haven’t really come into contact with sign language, and your knowledge is limited to the few signs Vynn has shown you when you caught them practising. You attempt to sign back a similar greeting with unsure fingers. Whether you got it right or not, Rikarda seems to be pleased either way as she continues past you.
As the Hollowpeanns make their way to the castle, you wonder how much you’ll see of them over the course of the festival.
You continue welcoming more guests, among them a few other noble families you know. It comes to your attention that not everyone seems to regard Az’Lean warmly. It seems that there are tensions between some of the nobility and the royal family that you are unaware of. On the other hand, the majority make no attempt to hide their attempts to butter Az’Lean up, and more than a few nobles your age express a desire to get to know him better.
All the while, you keep an eye out for your parents. They did say they would come, though you don’t know at what time they plan to arrive.
The trickle of new arrivals begins to slow down after a while and Az’Lean suggests you should head to the stage. When King Az’Marn will be giving his welcoming speech, Az’Lean will stand beside him, leaving you and a few other knights to stand guard behind them. It would be awfully bold to attack the king or the prince in the middle of a public event like this, on stage in front of the whole kingdom, no less, but when Queen Leanna’s assassination is still present in everyone’s minds, the utmost precautions must be taken.
When you arrive at the stage, you spot Thianne nearby, setting up protective wards. It’s unusual to see her without her red cloak on. Instead, she is wearing a purple velvet jerkin over a white blouse with dagged sleeves and black breeches.
Az’Lean looks out over the marketplace. Guards and knights alike are already getting into position, covering the perimeter, all entrances to streets and alleyways as well as other points of interest. You even spot a few of them up on balconies to get a better view.
<<if $instability > 5>>
You can’t help but feel uneasy, like they are there to watch you specifically. What if they know what you are and are just waiting for you to make a wrong move? What if there are traitors or spies of the fae among the guards? What if there are other changelings about? A shudder runs down your spine as you try not to think about it.
<<else>>
You feel better knowing that the entire area is secured. There’s no telling what kind of dangers might pop up during a festival like this, and you are glad that you can count on all of the other knights and guards.
<<endif>>\
You make your way through the crowd just as Thianne finishes setting up the wards. She waves you towards her, and the two of you approach the stage.
“I’ll be backstage if you need me,” she says, already sounding a bit stressed out. You wonder if she’s been setting up wards around the marketplace all morning.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Az’Lean says and climbs up onto the stage, taking his place next to where the king will stand.
[[You stand directly behind him. You’ll see less of the crowd, but you’ll be closest to him.|Chapter8A5a]]
[[You stand at the corner of the stage. You’ll have a better view of everything, though you’re a bit farther from the middle of the stage.|Chapter8A5b]]
[[You stand directly next to Az’Lean. You’ll be close to him and see everything, however, it is a bold statement that some of the noble families might interpret in a certain kind of way.|Chapter8A5c]]
“Of course,” Rohan says good-naturedly.
“Let’s not hold up the line any further, shall we?” Miche says. “We’ll see you later, $playername.”
Rohan and Miche join their parents and exchange greetings with Az’Lean. Rikarda lags behind a bit. When she passes by you, her eyes light up, and you wave at her. She waves back and signs something to you that you are pretty certain means “Hello, it’s good to see you!”
Aside from the few times you have met Rikarda, you haven’t really come into contact with sign language, and your knowledge is limited to the few signs Vynn has shown you when you caught them practising. You attempt to sign back a similar greeting with unsure fingers. Whether you got it right or not, Rikarda seems to be pleased either way as she continues past you.
As the Hollowpeanns make their way to the castle, you wonder how much you’ll see of them over the course of the festival.
You continue welcoming more guests, among them a few other noble families you know. It comes to your attention that not everyone seems to regard Az’Lean warmly. It seems that there are tensions between some of the nobility and the royal family that you are unaware of. On the other hand, the majority make no attempt to hide their attempts to butter Az’Lean up, and more than a few nobles your age express a desire to get to know him better.
All the while, you keep an eye out for your parents. They did say they would come, though you don’t know at what time they plan to arrive.
The trickle of new arrivals begins to slow down after a while and Az’Lean suggests you should head to the stage. When King Az’Marn will be giving his welcoming speech, Az’Lean will stand beside him, leaving you and a few other knights to stand guard behind them. It would be awfully bold to attack the king or the prince in the middle of a public event like this, on stage in front of the whole kingdom, no less, but when Queen Leanna’s assassination is still present in everyone’s minds, the utmost precautions must be taken.
When you arrive at the stage, you spot Thianne nearby, setting up protective wards. It’s unusual to see her without her red cloak on. Instead, she is wearing a purple velvet jerkin over a white blouse with dagged sleeves and black breeches.
Az’Lean looks out over the marketplace. Guards and knights alike are already getting into position, covering the perimeter, all entrances to streets and alleyways as well as other points of interest. You even spot a few of them up on balconies to get a better view.
<<if $instability > 5>>
You can’t help but feel uneasy, like they are there to watch you specifically. What if they know what you are and are just waiting for you to make a wrong move? What if there are traitors or spies of the fae among the guards? What if there are other changelings about? A shudder runs down your spine as you try not to think about it.
<<else>>
You feel better knowing that the entire area is secured. There’s no telling what kind of dangers might pop up during a festival like this, and you are glad that you can count on all of the other knights and guards.
<<endif>>\
You make your way through the crowd just as Thianne finishes setting up the wards. She waves you towards her, and the two of you approach the stage.
“I’ll be backstage if you need me,” she says, already sounding a bit stressed out. You wonder if she’s been setting up wards around the marketplace all morning.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Az’Lean says and climbs up onto the stage, taking his place next to where the king will stand.
[[You stand directly behind him. You’ll see less of the crowd, but you’ll be closest to him.|Chapter8C5a]]
[[You stand at the corner of the stage. You’ll have a better view of everything, though you’re a bit farther from the centre of the stage.|Chapter8C5b]]
[[You stand directly next to Az’Lean. You’ll be close to him and see everything, however, it is a bold statement that some of the noble families might interpret in a certain kind of way.|Chapter8C5c]]“Of course,” Rohan says good-naturedly.
“Let’s not hold up the line any further, shall we?” Miche says. “We’ll see you later, $playername.”
Rohan and Miche join their parents and exchange greetings with Az’Lean. Rikarda lags behind a bit. When she passes by you, her eyes light up, and you wave at her. She waves back and signs something to you that you are pretty certain means “Hello, it’s good to see you!”
Aside from the few times you have met Rikarda, you haven’t really come into contact with sign language, and your knowledge is limited to the few signs Vynn has shown you when you caught them practising. You attempt to sign back a similar greeting with unsure fingers. Whether you got it right or not, Rikarda seems to be pleased either way as she continues past you.
As the Hollowpeanns make their way to the castle, you wonder how much you’ll see of them over the course of the festival.
You continue welcoming more guests, among them a few other noble families you know. It comes to your attention that not everyone seems to regard Az’Lean warmly. It seems that there are tensions between some of the nobility and the royal family that you are unaware of. On the other hand, the majority make no attempt to hide their attempts to butter Az’Lean up, and more than a few nobles your age express a desire to get to know him better.
All the while, you keep an eye out for your parents. They did say they would come, though you don’t know at what time they plan to arrive.
The trickle of new arrivals begins to slow down after a while and Az’Lean suggests you should head to the stage. When King Az’Marn will be giving his welcoming speech, Az’Lean will stand beside him, leaving you and a few other knights to stand guard behind them. It would be awfully bold to attack the king or the prince in the middle of a public event like this, on stage in front of the whole kingdom, no less, but when Queen Leanna’s assassination is still present in everyone’s minds, the utmost precautions must be taken.
When you arrive at the stage, you spot Thianne nearby, setting up protective wards. It’s unusual to see her without her red cloak on. Instead, she is wearing a purple velvet jerkin over a white blouse with dagged sleeves and black breeches.
Az’Lean looks out over the marketplace. Guards and knights alike are already getting into position, covering the perimeter, all entrances to streets and alleyways as well as other points of interest. You even spot a few of them up on balconies to get a better view.
<<if $instability > 5>>
You can’t help but feel uneasy, like they are there to watch you specifically. What if they know what you are and are just waiting for you to make a wrong move? What if there are plans to take you out? What if they all know about you and Maeve and are just playing you for fools? A shudder runs down your spine as you try not to think about it.
<<else>>
You wonder whether they’re on the look-out for fae. Well, there’s living in your room right now, so there’s that. Though you hope there aren’t going to be any incidents - you deserve a few days of fun.
<<endif>>\
You make your way through the crowd just as Thianne finishes setting up the wards. She waves you towards her, and the two of you approach the stage.
“I’ll be backstage if you need me,” she says, already sounding a bit stressed out. You wonder if she’s been setting up wards around the marketplace all morning.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Az’Lean says and climbs up onto the stage, taking his place next to where the king will stand.
[[You stand directly behind him. You’ll see less of the crowd, but at least they’ll notice you less as well.|Chapter8B5a]]
[[You stand next to him. You’ll have a better view of everything, though you’ll draw a certain amount of attention to you as well.|Chapter8B5b]]You get into position behind Az’Lean; a few other guards take the corners of the stage instead. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents, but you don’t spot them, likely because there’s a lot you can’t see from where you’re standing. As you stare at the back of Az’Lean’s head and wait for King Az’Marn to get up on stage as well, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. There is no need for undue concern, however. We humans are known for our resilience, and our adaptability, sure enough, but the one thing we excel at above all else is our ingenuity - our ability to invent and to progress. While the fae with their long lives have no need for such things, we are constantly making strides towards the future, grasping for new developments in both magic and technology.
With that in mind, I have an announcement to make that you all will be pleased to hear. As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Our borders will be safer than ever, and it will be within our hands to keep the kingdom a peaceful and stable place. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
Have no fear, my people, for we will not let ourselves be tyrannised in our own lands. No amount of fae magic or long-livedness can stand up to the human spirit. It is in adversity that we shine brightest, that we come together as one, and that we reach new heights.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8A6]]You get into position at the front of the stage in the left corner; a few other guards take the remaining corners. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents. It doesn’t take long for you to spot them - they are standing just behind the fountain. Your father waves excitedly when he spots you while your mother tries to stop him from accidentally elbowing the people next to him in the face. As you watch their antics, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. There is no need for undue concern, however. We humans are known for our resilience, and our adaptability, sure enough, but the one thing we excel at above all else is our ingenuity - our ability to invent and to progress. While the fae with their long lives have no need for such things, we are constantly making strides towards the future, grasping for new developments in both magic and technology.
With that in mind, I have an announcement to make that you all will be pleased to hear. As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Our borders will be safer than ever, and it will be within our hands to keep the kingdom a peaceful and stable place. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
Have no fear, my people, for we will not let ourselves be tyrannised in our own lands. No amount of fae magic or long-livedness can stand up to the human spirit. It is in adversity that we shine brightest, that we come together as one, and that we reach new heights.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8A6]]You get into position next to Az’Lean. He raises an eyebrow at your choice but doesn’t comment on it. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents. It doesn’t take long for you to spot them - they are standing just behind the fountain. Your father waves excitedly when he spots you while your mother tries to stop him from accidentally elbowing the people next to him in the face. A few people are shooting you intrigued or disapproving looks. As you do your best to ignore them, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. There is no need for undue concern, however. We humans are known for our resilience, and our adaptability, sure enough, but the one thing we excel at above all else is our ingenuity - our ability to invent and to progress. While the fae with their long lives have no need for such things, we are constantly making strides towards the future, grasping for new developments in both magic and technology.
With that in mind, I have an announcement to make that you all will be pleased to hear. As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Our borders will be safer than ever, and it will be within our hands to keep the kingdom a peaceful and stable place. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
Have no fear, my people, for we will not let ourselves be tyrannised in our own lands. No amount of fae magic or long-livedness can stand up to the human spirit. It is in adversity that we shine brightest, that we come together as one, and that we reach new heights.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8A6]]
You get into position behind Az’Lean; a few other guards take the corners of the stage instead. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents, but you don’t spot them, likely because there’s a lot you can’t see from where you’re standing. As you stare at the back of Az’Lean’s head and wait for King Az’Marn to get up on stage as well, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. It would feel wrong of me to downplay the severity of the danger we might soon find ourselves in, so let me speak plainly: it does not seem like the fae will cease their aggressions any time soon. We have but one harbour left to trade from, and our very borders are at peril.
There is hope amongst the darkness, however, and it shines all the brighter due to it. I would like to officially announce the following: As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Using these, we will be able to keep our borders safe and prevent any kind of assault the fae may have planned for us. It is no miracle device, certainly, and it is no failsafe - but it is one way we can fight back and secure our safety. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
We must keep our hopes strong, for it is by this hope that measures such as this can be discovered, and ways to combat the fae can be found. With every rebuke against the fae, we ensure that our kingdom lives but a day longer. With every action we take, we can ensure our peace lasts a bit longer, and our lands remain a bit safer. The future is yet unwritten, and it is up to us to steer it in a favourable direction.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and everyone of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8B6]]You get into position next to Az’Lean. He raises an eyebrow at your choice but doesn’t comment on it. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents. It doesn’t take long for you to spot them - they are standing just behind the fountain. Your father waves excitedly when he spots you while your mother tries to stop him from accidentally elbowing the people next to him in the face. A few people are shooting you intrigued or disapproving looks. As you do your best to ignore them, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. It would feel wrong of me to downplay the severity of the danger we might soon find ourselves in, so let me speak plainly: it does not seem like the fae will cease their aggressions any time soon. We have but one harbour left to trade from, and our very borders are at peril.
There is hope amongst the darkness, however, and it shines all the brighter due to it. I would like to officially announce the following: As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Using these, we will be able to keep our borders safe and prevent any kind of assault the fae may have planned for us. It is no miracle device, certainly, and it is no failsafe - but it is one way we can fight back and secure our safety. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
We must keep our hopes strong, for it is by this hope that measures such as this can be discovered, and ways to combat the fae can be found. With every rebuke against the fae, we ensure that our kingdom lives but a day longer. With every action we take, we can ensure our peace lasts a bit longer, and our lands remain a bit safer. The future is yet unwritten, and it is up to us to steer it in a favourable direction.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and everyone of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8B6]]
You get into position behind Az’Lean; a few other guards take the corners of the stage instead. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents, but you don’t spot them, likely because there’s a lot you can’t see from where you’re standing. As you stare at the back of Az’Lean’s head and wait for King Az’Marn to get up on stage as well, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. There is no need for undue concern, however. In times like these, it is the potent combination of exceptional individuals and the many people that offer them their support that allows us rise above any kind of challenge. Our kingdom, I daresay, has both in spades.
With that in mind, I have an announcement to make that you all will be pleased to hear. As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Using these, we will be able to keep our borders safe and prevent any kind of assault the fae may have planned for us. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
There is nothing to fear as long as we can keep working hard, towards a better, safer future for all of us. It wouldn’t be fair to endanger the people living at the outskirts of the kingdom while those in the capital remain safe - so it is our utmost priority to facilitate widespread security.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and everyone of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8C6]]
You get into position at the front of the stage in the left corner; a few other guards take the remaining corners. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents. It doesn’t take long for you to spot them - they are standing just behind the fountain. Your father waves excitedly when he spots you while your mother tries to stop him from accidentally elbowing the people next to him in the face. As you watch their antics, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. There is no need for undue concern, however. In times like these, it is the potent combination of exceptional individuals and the many people that offer them their support that allows us rise above any kind of challenge. Our kingdom, I daresay, has both in spades.
With that in mind, I have an announcement to make that you all will be pleased to hear. As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Using these, we will be able to keep our borders safe and prevent any kind of assault the fae may have planned for us. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
There is nothing to fear as long as we can keep working hard, towards a better, safer future for all of us. It wouldn’t be fair to endanger the people living at the outskirts of the kingdom while those in the capital remain safe - so it is our utmost priority to facilitate widespread security.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and everyone of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8C6]]You get into position next to Az’Lean. He raises an eyebrow at your choice but doesn’t comment on it. As you watch the crowd slowly assemble in front of the stage you keep an eye out for your parents. It doesn’t take long for you to spot them - they are standing just behind the fountain. Your father waves excitedly when he spots you while your mother tries to stop him from accidentally elbowing the people next to him in the face. A few people are shooting you intrigued or disapproving looks. As you do your best to ignore them, tension begins to coil tightly in your chest. You hope nothing unexpected is going to happen.
As King Az’Marn ascends the stairs leading up to the stage, he is accompanied by another set of knights as well as a triumphant fanfare, signalling for everyone to quiet down and turn their attention towards the stage.
The effect is palpable, hundreds of voices dying down at once. The people look upon their king with reverence as he takes position in the centre, next to Az’Lean.
Az’Marn hold up his hands in greeting. As always he is dressed in black robes, though today he has chosen to also wear a midnight blue cape that trails behind him, as well as his crown.
The King begins his speech, his deep voice magically amplified to cut across the entire marketplace:
“Dear citizens of Gaiapeia - welcome. To all of you who had to travel to be here today, I sincerely hope you had pleasant journeys and will be able to enjoy a comfortable stay in our magnificent capital. Be assured that we will offer you our full hospitality over the next four days.
The Summer Solstice is an important time that deserves to be spent together, as a community. It is a time to celebrate not only our connections with each other, but also our connections to the world around us, to nature, and to the Gods. It is a time to remind ourselves of what it means to live - so let us cast our worries aside for a few days and revel in the joy of getting to be here, at this very moment, alive and together.
Let us use this chance to turn to the light, for dark times may very well be ahead of us. Even now, while we are celebrating, the threat of the fae looms above us. There is no need for undue concern, however. In times like these, it is the potent combination of exceptional individuals and the many people that offer them their support that allows us rise above any kind of challenge. Our kingdom, I daresay, has both in spades.
With that in mind, I have an announcement to make that you all will be pleased to hear. As of today, we have officially begun the mass production of magical barrier devices that can fully protect us from the fae. Using these, we will be able to keep our borders safe and prevent any kind of assault the fae may have planned for us. For those of you that are interested in learning more about the topic, there will be showcases and lectures held every day in the evening. Feel free to join in and see for yourselves the protection these new, revolutionary devices will provide us.
There is nothing to fear as long as we can keep working hard, towards a better, safer future for all of us. It wouldn’t be fair to endanger the people living at the outskirts of the kingdom while those in the capital remain safe - so it is our utmost priority to facilitate widespread security.
All of you have done your part. I want to thank the brilliant sorceress, Thianne, who came up with the design and all our other mages and scholars who have helped her. I want to thank our brave knights and guards, who are working especially hard to make sure we’ll all be able to enjoy this festival without worry. I want to thank the Champion, $playername, for shielding my son from harm. I want to thank Az’Lean, for being so willing to share the burdens of rule with me, and I want to thank the council for aiding us both. Most of all, I want to thank each and everyone of you for what you have invested into this kingdom - whether it is the food you have grown, the services you provide, or the roads you have constructed. We and our ancestors have built this kingdom with our own hands, and it is our duty to treasure it.
The Solstice is a time that brings us together, so let us look at the people around us, be thankful for everything they have done for us, and show our gratitude by offering to buy the first round. As king, I suppose it is only right that I lead by example. Let the festival begin and let everyone’s first pint be on me!”
[[The end of his speech is, unsurprisingly, met with thunderous applause.|Chapter8C6]]In all honesty, you’re not sure what to think of his announcement about the mabs. On one hand, you suppose the people deserve to know how their taxes are being spent and what is being done to increase the protection against the fae. On the other hand, it comes across as a bit desperate. Then again, maybe things are desperate, and there’s no fooling anyone.
As the speech ends, Az’Lean proclaims a loud ‘welcome’ of his own, and soon enough you’re already getting off the stage again. Things are moving quickly. So far, you haven’t noticed anything suspicious or any potential dangers, but that doesn’t mean much.
A band of musicians takes the stage next, starting off with a jolly tune. Immediately, the mass of people begins to disperse, taking the king up on his most generous offer and getting inline for their drinks.
You and Az’Lean hang back behind the stage, exchanging a few words with King Az’Marn.
“That went well,” Az’Lean says, a sincere if somewhat half-hearted attempt at praise.
His father accepts it with a nod. “The reception was about what I expected. Though I am very much glad that’s over,” the king admits. “Have you your speech on you, Az’Lean? I’d like to have a look at it before tonight.”
“What, don’t you trust me to have written something passable?” Az’Lean scoffs. “No, it’s still in my chambers. I can show it to you during dinner.”
“That wouldn’t be a good look. Numerous noble families will be joining us, after all, no need to let them see something like that. You have time now, right? Mind… Mind taking a walk with me across the venue and then head to your chambers?” It is unusual to hear the king stumble over a sentence like that. You get the feeling that maybe checking Az’Lean’s speech is just a pretence to spend some time with him.
If that is the case, Az’Lean doesn’t recognise the offer. “We can just as easily send someone to fetch it, no need to walk all that way through the crowds.”
King Az’Marn looks disappointed but doesn’t argue with that.
You’re not one to make assumptions, but you don’t think it would hurt to at least steer the conversation a certain way.
“Maybe you ought to do it anyway,” you suggest. “I know I certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to take a walk across the festival with my parents, though I’m sure I’ll get the chance at some point.”
“What does that have to do with- Oh.” Az’Lean furrows his brow for a moment as if puzzling something out. “I suppose it might be a rare opportunity, you are right. Alright then, father. Let us go together.”
King Az’Marn gives you a peculiar look, like he’s seen you, truly seen you, for the first time. You’re not sure if you see gratitude in his honey-coloured eyes or something else, but you can say with certainty that he has taken a different kind of notice of you than before. Maybe he sees that you aren’t just a Grahm, or the Champion, but a friend of his son - someone who cares for his son.
“Should I accompany you?” you ask. It would be nice for them to spend some time together in privacy, but security will always be a concern.
Az’Lean and Az’Marn exchange glances.
“How about you stay in the general vicinity, at least?” the king suggests. “You don’t have to be stuck at our side, but I would appreciate it if you could keep an eye out.”
“That sounds good. Feel free to check out the stalls if something interests you, $playername,” Az’Lean adds.
“Understood.”
The three of you, as well as two additional knights, head out onto the main street leading up to the castle. You are walking at a leisurely pace, somewhat spread out. As you make sure to always keep track of where Az’Lean and his father are, you also look around at what the festival has to offer.
When the two of them sit down in a fortune telling booth across the street, you figure you have some time to spend as you like - as long as you stay nearby. By your estimate, you probably have around 30 minutes to spend until both of them have had their reading.
[[You browse the vendors, looking for trinkets and presents. (15 min) |Chapter8Shop]]
[[You get another fortune teller to do a tarot reading for you. (15 min) |Chapter8Tarot]]
[[You let an artist sketch a portrait of you. (30 min) |Chapter8Portrait]]
In all honesty, you’re not sure what to think of his announcement about the mabs. On one hand, you suppose the people deserve to know how their taxes are being spent and what is being done to increase the protection against the fae. On the other hand, it comes across as a bit desperate. You suppose it was right to announce it, though maybe it was moreso the wording that felt a little off to you.
As the speech ends, Az’Lean proclaims a loud ‘welcome’ of his own, and soon enough you’re already getting off the stage again. Things are moving quickly. So far, you haven’t noticed anything suspicious or any potential dangers, but that doesn’t mean much.
A band of musicians takes the stage next, starting off with a jolly tune. Immediately, the mass of people begins to disperse, taking the king up on his most generous offer and getting inline for their drinks.
You and Az’Lean hang back behind the stage, exchanging a few words with King Az’Marn.
“That went well,” Az’Lean says, a sincere if somewhat half-hearted attempt at praise.
His father accepts it with a nod. “The reception was about what I expected. Though I am very much glad that’s over,” the king admits. “Have you your speech on you, Az’Lean? I’d like to have a look at it before tonight.”
“What, don’t you trust me to have written something passable?” Az’Lean scoffs. “No, it’s still in my chambers. I can show it to you during dinner.”
“That wouldn’t be a good look. Numerous noble families will be joining us, after all, no need to let them see something like that. You have time now, right? Mind… Mind taking a walk with me across the venue and then head to your chambers?” It is unusual to hear the king stumble over a sentence like that. You get the feeling that maybe checking Az’Lean’s speech is just a pretence to spend some time with him.
If that is the case, Az’Lean doesn’t recognise the offer. “We can just as easily send someone to fetch it, no need to walk all that way through the crowds.”
King Az’Marn looks disappointed but doesn’t argue with that.
You’re not one to make assumptions, but you don’t think it would hurt to at least steer the conversation a certain way.
“Maybe you ought to do it anyway,” you suggest. “I know I certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to take a walk across the festival with my parents, though I’m sure I’ll get the chance at some point.”
“What does that have to do with- Oh.” Az’Lean furrows his brow for a moment as if puzzling something out. “I suppose it might be a rare opportunity, you are right. Alright then, father. Let us go together.”
King Az’Marn gives you a peculiar look, like he’s seen you, truly seen you, for the first time. You’re not sure if you see gratitude in his honey-coloured eyes or something else, but you can say with certainty that he has taken a different kind of notice of you than before. Maybe he sees that you aren’t just a Grahm, or the Champion, but a friend of his son - someone who cares for his son.
“Should I accompany you?” you ask. It would be nice for them to spend some time together in privacy, but security will always be a concern.
Az’Lean and Az’Marn exchange glances.
“How about you stay in the general vicinity, at least?” the king suggests. “You don’t have to be stuck at our side, but I would appreciate it if you could keep an eye out.”
“That sounds good. Feel free to check out the stalls if something interests you, $playername,” Az’Lean adds.
“Understood.”
The three of you, as well as two additional knights, head out onto the main street leading up to the castle. You are walking at a leisurely pace, somewhat spread out. As you make sure to always keep track of where Az’Lean and his father are, you also look around at what the festival has to offer.
When the two of them sit down in a fortune telling booth across the street, you figure you have some time to spend as you like - as long as you stay nearby. By your estimate, you probably have around 30 minutes to spend until both of them have had their reading.
[[You browse the vendors, looking for trinkets and presents. (15 min)|Chapter8Shop]]
[[You get another fortune teller to do a tarot reading for you. (15 min)|Chapter8Tarot]]
[[You let an artist sketch a portrait of you. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait]]In all honesty, you’re not sure what to think of his announcement about the mabs. On one hand, you suppose the people deserve to know how their taxes are being spent. On the other hand, it comes across as a bit desperate. You wonder whether it's some kind of intimidation tactic - but then again, other than you there probably aren't any fae in the crowd to hear it.
As the speech ends, Az’Lean proclaims a loud ‘welcome’ of his own, and soon enough you’re already getting off the stage again. Things are moving quickly. So far, everything went like it had been planned.
A band of musicians takes the stage next, starting off with a jolly tune. Immediately, the mass of people begins to disperse, taking the king up on his most generous offer and getting inline for their drinks.
You and Az’Lean hang back behind the stage, exchanging a few words with King Az’Marn.
“That went well,” Az’Lean says, a sincere if somewhat half-hearted attempt at praise.
His father accepts it with a nod. “The reception was about what I expected. Though I am very much glad that’s over,” the king admits. “Have you your speech on you, Az’Lean? I’d like to have a look at it before tonight.”
“What, don’t you trust me to have written something passable?” Az’Lean scoffs. “No, it’s still in my chambers. I can show it to you during dinner.”
“That wouldn’t be a good look. Numerous noble families will be joining us, after all, no need to let them see something like that. You have time now, right? Mind… Mind taking a walk with me across the venue and then head to your chambers?” It is unusual to hear the king stumble over a sentence like that. You get the feeling that maybe checking Az’Lean’s speech is just a pretence to spend some time with him.
If that is the case, Az’Lean doesn’t immediately recognise the offer. “We can just as easily send someone to fetch it, no need to walk all that way through the crowds.”
King Az’Marn looks disappointed but doesn’t argue with that.
You suppress the urge to roll your eyes at how obvious he's being, but somehow Az'Lean must have been able to read your expression, even when he couldn't read his own father's.
“Oh.” Az’Lean furrows his brow for a moment as if puzzling something out. “I suppose it might be a rare opportunity, to spend time together during the festival. Alright then, father. Let us go together.”
“Should I accompany you?” you ask. It would be nice for them to spend some time together in privacy, but security will always be a concern. You doubt Az'Lean would just let you run off on your own.
Az’Lean and Az’Marn exchange glances.
“How about you stay in the general vicinity, at least?” the king suggests. “You don’t have to be stuck at our side, but I would appreciate it if you could keep an eye out.”
“That sounds good. Feel free to check out the stalls if something interests you, $playername,” Az’Lean adds.
“Got it.”
The three of you, as well as two additional knights, head out onto the main street leading up to the castle. You are walking at a leisurely pace, somewhat spread out. As you make sure to always keep track of where Az’Lean and his father are, you also look around at what the festival has to offer.
When the two of them sit down in a fortune telling booth across the street, you figure you have some time to spend as you like - as long as you stay nearby. By your estimate, you probably have around 30 minutes to spend until both of them have had their reading.
[[You browse the vendors, looking for trinkets and presents. (15 min)|Chapter8Shop]]
[[You get another fortune teller to do a tarot reading for you. (15 min)|Chapter8Tarot]]
[[You let an artist sketch a portrait of you. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait]]
<<set $shop1 to "yes">>\
You make sure to stay on the same part of the street so you can keep Az’Lean and his father in your peripherals, but allow yourself the opportunity to browse the many stalls that are lined up next to each other.
Many of them are decorated extravagantly - covered in vibrant fabric, glowing crystals strung together to draw attention, and delicate wind chimes sounding every now and then. The air is thick with perfumes of many different nobles passing by and there is an ever-present background noise of chattering and laughter.
You pass by a stall selling candles and incense, looking for something truly unique to catch your eye. There will be more opportunities to go shopping on later days of the festival and you can’t stray too far, but you also don’t want to miss out on a special find. Something truly extraordinary might be hidden among all these trinkets and baubles.
After a few minutes of looking around, you find yourself in front of a stall selling items imported from outside of Gaiapeia - a rarity these days, seeing as there is only one operational port left.
The man behind the counter is old and wrinkled, his long beard half laying on the counter among his wares. He squints at you expectantly.
“Only the finest of curios from the lands beyond our shores,” he croaks and wildly gesticulates with his shaking hands. “Rare ingredients, magical items, and much more.”
You take some time to inspect what he has to offer. There are indeed a lot of dried plants, crystals and other alchemical ingredients, though you don’t recognise most of them and wouldn’t know what they’re worth or how to use them. There’s also jewellery, some of it enchanted, some only pretty to look at - while within your price range, probably not something you should just buy on a whim.
There are a few interesting decorative items that your mother would enjoy - vases made of something that looks like a strange kind of ceramic, painted in sparkling colours, woven webs that look like they could be hung on a wall, carved statues of animals you only vaguely recognise.
There is one thing though that stands out amongst all the other types of items. You have no idea what it is called, but you can tell that it is an instrument. It has a long, rectangular wooden body and thirteen silk strings. It looks like it is supposed to be played while laying on a table just like this.
“What is that string instrument called?” you ask the vendor.
He blinks down at it. “That’s a Koto - a type of zither. Interested?”
“Is it difficult to play?”
“I wouldn’t really know. Though any musically inclined person will be able to figure it out, I assume,” he says with a shrug. “Say what - since I don’t know much about it and can’t promise you that it’s tuned correctly, how’s about I make you a good offer?”
You consider the instrument before you - it might be a waste of money, but maybe it would make a good present to someone.
[[You decide to purchase the Koto.|Chapter8Shop2]]
[[You probably shouldn’t buy something you know nothing about and decide not to buy it.|Chapter8Shop2b]]
<<set $tarot to 1>>\
You approach a small table right next to the stand where Az’Lean and his father are. A middle-aged woman sits behind it, dressed in a simple flowing robe and a lot of jewellery. She is idly shuffling a deck of old, weathered tarot cards and looks up at you through her lashes as you come closer.
“Looking to get a reading, dear? A small look into your future?” Her voice is deep and enticing, and you find yourself sitting down across from her before even being able to answer.
“Yes, I’m interested. What kind of readings do you do?”
“I could give you a look into one of two aspects: fulfilment or safety. Sometimes both of these aspects of the future coincide, but often they vary and can show more clearly the path our life is going down, and what kind of happiness awaits us at the end of it. Both can give a similar outlook on your future, but from different perspectives.”
Hearing it phrased like that, you’re almost scared to hear what the cards have in store for you. There might be even more truths about you and your life that you might not want to know.
Your first instinct is to learn more about your safety - after all, knowing what dangers await seems the most useful option. Then again, figuring out how to keep yourself safe is something you could potentially do on your own - figuring out what path will lead you to feeling fulfilled, however, might be more difficult to figure out with only your own thoughts to guide you.
It would probably be good to get both types of readings, but it seems she is posing you this choice for a reason. Maybe you can come back later to get the other type of reading, but for now, you should choose one.
[[“Tell me about my future safety.”|Chapter8Tarot2]]
[[“Tell me about my future fulfillment.”|Chapter8Tarot2b]]<<set $portrait to "yes">>
It might take some time and you’ll have to sit still for the duration of it, but a part of you is fascinated by the idea of having a portrait of yourself. For one, it might be nice to capture the moment - to have something to remember your youth by. More importantly, however, you want to get proof of what you look like.
What if something happens to you and you lose this appearance? Recreating it from memory is all well and good, but having something tangible that depicts you as you are now seems invaluable to you. Then there’s the aspect of the artist’s touch. How does she see you? The portrait will not only be a reflection of your appearance, but also of who you are as a person. She’ll likely decide to draw the Champion regal and intimidating, or maybe she’ll see something else when she looks at you.
Hopefully you’ll like what you see once she is done.
The artist is a woman with large, bright eyes and a faraway look. She instructs you to take a seat on a small wooden stool, and you position yourself so that you can keep an eye on Az’Lean and his father. They are just across the street and you could get there in seconds should anything happen.
“Try to relax and assume a comfortable, natural posture,” the artists says as she begins to sharpen her graphite pencil.
You take a deep breath and will your shoulders to loosen. For a while, you watch the people passing by, listening to the rhythmic scratch of her pencil. Next to the fortune teller, a group of young children are playing with a ball that bounces all over the place, nearly knocking the hat off of a nearby vendor. You hold your breath to stop yourself from chuckling, though you worry that your expression might have betrayed you anyways.
Every once in a while, you glance over at the artist. She seems to be entirely consumed by her work, neither talking nor looking anywhere other than the paper in front of her or you.
Just as you begin to think that maybe this would take longer than you have time for, the artist stops drawing and lets out a long breath.
“I am mostly finished,” she says. “I want to get your opinion on it before I add the final touches.”
With anticipation, you get up from your stool and look over her shoulder at the mostly finished portrait.
It is a fairly accurate portrayal of you in a realistic style - even the texture of the collar of your shirt looks life-like. What truly fascinates you are the subtleties in your expression and the minute details of your face that you might notice when looking in a mirror but never really paid much attention to.
First, there’s your eyes. Since there are no colours, they don’t look $eyes, but you can spot the tiniest flecks in your irises. Clusters of pigment, reflections of light - the depth of them sucks you in. <<if $humour > 4>>True mirth shines within them, and there are slight creases around your eyes, as though you were smiling in secret.<<else>>There’s a certain tension within them, and your brows are ever so slightly furrowed, as though you were deep in thought.<<endif>>\
Next, the position of your head catches your attention. You thought you were looking straight ahead all this time, but apparently you weren’t, or the artist thought your normal posture wasn’t dynamic enough. <<if $lie > 5>>Interestingly, your head is tilted to the left in this portrait. It looks like you are pondering something - either trying to remember something, or coming up with a lie. You wonder if you make that expression often. <<else>>Interestingly, your head is tilted to the right in this portrait. It looks like you are analysing something - either trying to figure something out, or appreciating whatever you’re looking at. You figure it’s a nice expression, whether you were really making it or not.<<endif>>\
The last thing that sticks out to you is the lighting. It’s the middle of the day and you are sitting out in the sun, so the portrait somewhat reflects that. <<if $stability > 5>> However, you feel like your face looks a little washed-out. It might just be because everything is in shades of grey, but it does remind you of the colour of your skin as a changeling, instead of the $skin skin you’d like to see.<<else>> However, there are some deep shadows with much starker contrast than there should be. At the side of your face, beneath your eyes - small pockets of darkness. You’re not sure whether you like it or not, but it does make you look very dramatic. Almost… tragic.<<endif>>\
“So, what do you think?” the artist asks.
“It’s very impressive. You are incredibly skilled, especially considering the short amount of time you’ve had,” you say.
“Anything you’d like changed?”
“No, I trust that you’ll know better than me what needs to be done before it is finished. I enjoy seeing your vision,” you say.
“Thank you. No need to get back on the stool, there’s just a few things I want to touch up.”
You watch as she works on the shading of your hair for a few more minutes before she declares the piece as good enough to sell to you. You hand her the gold she asks for and she hands you the portrait, rolled up into a scroll and tied together with a bright blue ribbon.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[Satisfied with your purchase, and looking forward to looking at the portrait again later, you return to Az’Lean.|Chapter8A7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[Satisfied with your purchase, and looking forward to looking at the portrait again later, you return to Az’Lean.|Chapter8B7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[Satisfied with your purchase, and looking forward to looking at the portrait again later, you return to Az’Lean.|Chapter8C7]]<<endif>>\
After you spend some time walking around with Az’Lean and his father, you make your way back up to the castle. The sun is bearing down on you harshly, so you walk alongside the wall, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible. You expect that the heat is going to get worse over the next few weeks as summer begins in full.
The inside of the castle is blessedly cool as you head over to Az’Lean’s chamber. While the two of them go inside to discuss his speech, you stand guard outside, leaning against the refreshingly cold stone wall. Once they are finished, Az’Marn and the other guards take their leave.
“We should freshen ourselves up a bit before we head to dinner. I saw the seating arrangements this morning, I think your parents should sit next to us,” Az’Lean says, idly tugging at his braid that threatens to come loose any second. “Come get me from my room in an hour, alright? Then we can head down together.”
“Got it.”
You head into your room, glad for the opportunity to rest your feet a bit. Still, you are pleased that Az’Lean was able to spend some time with his father. Whatever tension hangs between them you aren’t sure about, but it doesn’t feel like their relationship is beyond saving. You wonder whether it is just a difference in opinion that divides them, or whether the Queen’s death has driven a wedge between them.
Either way, how can they say they’re thinking about what’s best for the kingdom when they are at odds with each other? Humanity stands no chance against the fae when they are busy fighting each other. If there is some way you can help, it is your duty to try it - like you did earlier when you helped Az’Lean understand what his father was trying to say. Maybe this is part of a Champion’s duty as well.
You take some time for yourself before you need to head out again. After picking up Az’Lean, the two of you make your way to the banquet hall. Immediately, you are reminded of Az’Lean’s birthday last month - the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now.
This time, instead of being arranged in a semi circle, the tables are scattered across the room in pairs of two, creating small groups. No food has been brought out yet, though there seems to be plenty of wine going around already.
Just as Az’Lean said, the two of you are sharing a table with not only your parents, but also the Hollowpeanns. There are four sides of the table. On one side sit your parents, on one side sit Vynn’s parents as well as Rohan, on one side sit Miche, Rikarda and her husband, and on the last side sits Vynn. There is one empty space next to your parents and two empty spaces next to Vynn. King Az’Marn hasn’t arrived yet.
Az’Lean motions at you to pick.
[[You sit next to your parents, meaning Az’Lean and his father will sit with Vynn.|Chapter8A8A]]
[[You sit between Vynn and Az’Lean, meaning the king will sit with your parents.|Chapter8A8B]]
After you spend some time walking around with Az’Lean and his father, you make your way back up to the castle. The sun is bearing down on you harshly, so you walk alongside the wall, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible. You expect that the heat is going to get worse over the next few weeks as summer begins in full.
The inside of the castle is blessedly cool as you head over to Az’Lean’s chamber. While the two of them go inside to discuss his speech, you stand guard outside, leaning against the refreshingly cold stone wall. Once they are finished, Az’Marn and the other guards take their leave.
“We should freshen ourselves up a bit before we head to dinner. I saw the seating arrangements this morning, I think your parents should sit next to us,” Az’Lean says, idly tugging at his braid that threatens to come loose any second. “Come get me from my room in an hour, alright? Then we can head down together.”
“Got it.”
You head into your room, glad for the opportunity to rest your feet a bit. Maeve waits a bit to make sure you are alone before letting herself appear in your room. She sits crossed-legged on your bed, taking in your appearance.
“You look fashionable today. More than usual, I mean,” she comments. “How has the festival been so far?”
Her slightly back-handed compliment makes you smile. “Not bad. The king announced that the mass production of magical barrier devices has officially started, which is a problem, but the music after was very catchy, and I got to look around a bit as we walked back to the castle.”
Maeve purses her lips. “‘Tis not unexpected, but a bit sooner than I’d hoped. See if you can find out a bit more about where they make them, and when they’ll start putting them in place. But let’s save further discussion of that until later. For now, you deserve to enjoy yourself.”
“I hope you and your sisters get to enjoy the solstice as well,” you say.
“That’s not something that’s ever in doubt. Us dryads know a thing or two about celebrating.” Maeve grins brightly as she disappears with a wave.
You take some time for yourself before you need to head out again. After picking up Az’Lean, the two of you make your way to the banquet hall. Immediately, you are reminded of Az’Lean’s birthday last month - the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now.
This time, instead of being arranged in a semi circle, the tables are scattered across the room in pairs of two, creating small groups. No food has been brought out yet, though there seems to be plenty of wine going around already.
Just as Az’Lean said, the two of you are sharing a table with not only your parents, but also the Hollowpeanns. There are four sides of the table. On one side sit your parents, on one side sit Vynn’s parents as well as Rohan, on one side sit Miche, Rikarda and her husband, and on the last side sits Vynn. There is one empty space next to your parents and two empty spaces next to Vynn. King Az’Marn hasn’t arrived yet.
Az’Lean motions at you to pick.
[[You sit next to your parents, meaning Az’Lean and his father will sit with Vynn.|Chapter8B8A]]
[[You sit between Vynn and Az’Lean, meaning the king will sit with your parents.|Chapter8B8B]]
After you spend some time walking around with Az’Lean and his father, you make your way back up to the castle. The sun is bearing down on you harshly, so you walk alongside the wall, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible. You expect that the heat is going to get worse over the next few weeks as summer begins in full.
The inside of the castle is blessedly cool as you head over to Az’Lean’s chamber. While the two of them go inside to discuss his speech, you stand guard outside, leaning against the refreshingly cold stone wall. Once they are finished, Az’Marn and the other guards take their leave.
“We should freshen ourselves up a bit before we head to dinner. I saw the seating arrangements this morning, I think your parents should sit next to us,” Az’Lean says, idly tugging at his braid that threatens to come loose any second. “Come get me from my room in an hour, alright? Then we can head down together.”
“Got it.”
You head into your room, glad for the opportunity to rest your feet a bit. Still, you are pleased that Az’Lean was able to spend some time with his father. Whatever tension hangs between them you aren’t sure about, but it doesn’t feel like their relationship is beyond saving. You wonder whether it is just a difference in opinion that divides them, or whether the Queen’s death has driven a wedge between them.
Either way, you want not only Az’Lean to have faith in you, but his father as well. No matter how much Az’Lean likes to present himself as the one in charge, in the end, he is still just the prince, barely of age. The one who truly has the power to decide the future of this kingdom is King Az’Marn, and so far it seems like he neither wants to declare war nor do anything to end this conflict. Then again, you’re not privy to the king’s thoughts - who knows where his head is at in all of this.
You take some time for yourself before you need to head out again. After picking up Az’Lean, the two of you make your way to the banquet hall. Immediately, you are reminded of Az’Lean’s birthday last month - the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now.
This time, instead of being arranged in a semi circle, the tables are scattered across the room in pairs of two, creating small groups. No food has been brought out yet, though there seems to be plenty of wine going around already.
Just as Az’Lean said, the two of you are sharing a table with not only your parents, but also the Hollowpeanns. There are four sides of the table. On one side sit your parents, on one side sit Vynn’s parents as well as Rohan, on one side sit Miche, Rikarda and her husband, and on the last side sits Vynn. There is one empty space next to your parents and two empty spaces next to Vynn. King Az’Marn hasn’t arrived yet.
Az’Lean motions at you to pick.
[[You sit next to your parents, meaning Az’Lean and his father will sit with Vynn.|Chapter8C8A]]
[[You sit between Vynn and Az’Lean, meaning the king will sit with your parents.|Chapter8C8B]]
You get to see Az’Lean and Vynn all the time, but eating dinner with your family is a rare enough occasion to make the decision obvious. Your father claps you on the shoulder as you slide into the chair next to him while your mother leans around him to look at you.
“There you are, $playername,” she says, brightening when she sees you. The conversation you all had a bit over a week ago is still very present in your mind. It’s a strange thing to consider - half of the people at this table know that you are a changeling, the other half doesn’t.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us as well, Prince Az’Lean, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen you too, Vynn,” she adds, looking at them very much in the manner a mother looks at her toddler’s playmates. You wonder whether to her, you still all look like children.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir and Lady Grahm,” Az’Lean says politely before greeting the Hollowpeann’s as well. The way he and Vynn both sit there, looking for all the world like they can’t wait for this to be over, is somewhat amusing.
It doesn’t take long for King Az’Marn to join you, and with his arrival, dinner has officially begun. As the first course is served, the tension that comes with being seated at the king’s table quickly disperses, and greetings evolve into small talk.
“It’s good to see you again, Fenrath,” the king says to your father. “Tell me, how is retirement treating you?”
Your father laughs, loud and boisterous. “It is relaxing, of course, though I can’t say I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the capital from time to time. Then again, I’m perfectly content to never have to spend a night in the barracks again.”
“Being a knight is such a noble thing. To willingly endure such discomforts, all for the good of the kingdom,” Lady Hollowpeann says with wide-eyed admiration.
“I think it’s the risking of one’s life that should be considered noble, if anything,” Vynn chimes in. There’s no hiding their disdain.
“All of us should recognise how fortunate we are to have even gotten to this age,” King Az’Marn says, “and that we have children who will carry on after us.”
“Speaking of, you must be so proud of $playername,” Lord Hollowpeann says.
Your father begins to beam with pride and pats your shoulder so hard you nearly drop your spoon. “You can say that again, Glen! <<if $pronoun == "his">> He’s all I’ve ever hoped he’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">> She’s all I’ve ever hoped she’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">> They’re all I’ve ever hoped they’d be and more.”<<endif>>
As soon as the words leave your father’s mouth, the entire table devolves into a competition to see who has the best child. In the end, King Az’Marn ends up winning, for nothing quite comes close to having a prince for a son.
You listen to the entire thing with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, though it would soon get worse. All your mother did was congratulate Rikarda and her husband on their marriage - not the safest of topics.
“In my opinion, there’s no point in waiting too long for the perfect spouse to appear. There’s no such thing. At the end of the day, people grow and change as time goes on, so if there’s compatibility, why wait to get married?” Lord Hollowpeann postulates as the second course is served, looking very pointedly at Rohan, his eldest son.
Rohan rolls his eyes. “I’m not that old yet.”
“I’d say age is one thing, but maturity is another,” King Az’Marn says. “If they’re not able to make the decision on their own, then they're not ready for the commitment anyway. I trust that Az’Lean will think carefully about his future prospects. There’s no point in rushing into anything, but as long as he keeps it in mind, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“The prosperity of the kingdom will always be my top priority, so I am aware of the weight a potential future marriage would carry. There are many who would aim to get close to me with such hopes in mind, and screening for that alone prevents me from making any hasty decisions,” Az’Lean says matter-of-factly.
Lady Hollowpeann sighs. “Vynn, I wish you were half as responsible as that.”
“Don’t test my patience, mother. I am not above making a scene in front of the king,” Vynn says, pointedly pouring themselves another glass of wine. “Besides, I’m not the heir. What do I need to get married for in the first place?”
Lady Hollowpeann’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, you don’t want to end up alone, do you?”
“Now, now. Everyone has their own individual way of approaching the topic,” your mother says in an attempt at diplomacy. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and everyone has their own destination in mind.”
“Wise words, Lady Grahm,” Miche says. “Monastic service is always an option as well.”
“What about you, $playername?” Lord Hollowpeann asks. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
You swallow down the bite you’d been chewing, surprised at suddenly having become part of the conversation.
[[The thought of marriage makes your stomach churn. “At this point in time, I’m not really interested in getting married.”|Chapter8.9A]]
[[You don’t like the idea of traditional marriage, but a life-long partnership of some kind does sound appealing. “It would be nice to have that sort of commitment.”|Chapter8.9B]]
[[“I haven’t really given it much thought so far.”|Chapter8.9C]]
[[“I would like to get married eventually, but not now.”|Chapter8.9D]]
[[“I would like to get married sooner rather than later.”|Chapter8.9E]]
[[“If someone would want to marry me, I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting the offer, at the very least.”|Chapter8.9F]]
[[“I don’t feel like I have time for marriage. If anything, I feel like I’m married to my work.”|Chapter8.9G]]
You feel like both Vynn and Az’Lean might rather sit next to you than the king, and your father would probably appreciate the opportunity to catch up with King Az’Marn himself. It has been some time since they last spoke, but you know how much your father still sees himself as one of the knights - as one of the king’s protectors.
As you sit down between Vynn and Az’Lean, your father reaches across the table to clap you heartily on the shoulder, almost knocking over a pitcher of water in the process. Your mother rolls his eyes at him, but smiles when she catches your eye.
“There you are, $playername,” she says, her face visibly brightening. The conversation you all had a bit over a week ago is still very present in your mind. It’s a strange thing to consider that quite a few people at this table know that you are a changeling.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us as well, Prince Az’Lean, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen you too, Vynn,” she adds, looking at them very much in the manner a mother looks at her toddler’s playmates. You wonder whether to her, you still all look like children.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir and Lady Grahm,” Az’Lean says politely before greeting the Hollowpeann’s as well. The way he and Vynn both sit there on either side of you, stiff as a pair of rocks and looking for all the world like they can’t wait for this to be over, is somewhat amusing.
It doesn’t take long for King Az’Marn to join you, and with his arrival, dinner has officially begun. As the first course is served, the tension that comes with being seated at the king’s table quickly disperses, and greetings evolve into small talk.
“It’s good to see you again, Fenrath,” the king says to your father. “Tell me, how is retirement treating you?”
Your father laughs, loud and boisterous. “It is relaxing, of course, though I can’t say I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the capital from time to time. Then again, I’m perfectly content to never have to spend a night in the barracks again.”
“Being a knight is such a noble thing. To willingly endure such discomforts, all for the good of the kingdom,” Lady Hollowpeann says with wide-eyed admiration.
“I think it’s the risking of one’s life that should be considered noble, if anything,” Vynn chimes in. There’s no hiding their disdain.
“All of us should recognise how fortunate we are to have even gotten to this age,” King Az’Marn says, “and that we have children who will carry on after us.”
“Speaking of, you must be so proud of $playername,” Lord Hollowpeann says.
Your father begins to beam with pride and if he hadn’t been seated next to the king himself, you have no doubt that he would’ve leaned across the table to reach you. “You can say that again, Glen! <<if $pronoun == "his">> He’s all I’ve ever hoped he’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">> She’s all I’ve ever hoped she’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">> They’re all I’ve ever hoped they’d be and more.”<<endif>>
As soon as the words leave your father’s mouth, the entire table devolves into a competition to see who has the best child. In the end, King Az’Marn ends up winning, for nothing quite comes close to having a prince for a son.
You listen to the entire thing with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, though it would soon get worse. All your mother did was congratulate Rikarda and her husband on their marriage - not the safest of topics.
“In my opinion, there’s no point in waiting too long for the perfect spouse to appear. There’s no such thing. At the end of the day, people grow and change as time goes on, so if there’s compatibility, why wait to get married?” Lord Hollowpeann postulates as the second course is served, looking very pointedly at Rohan, his eldest son.
Rohan rolls his eyes. “I’m not that old yet.”
“I’d say age is one thing, but maturity is another,” King Az’Marn says. “If they’re not able to make the decision on their own, then they're not ready for the commitment anyway. I trust that Az’Lean will think carefully about his future prospects. There’s no point in rushing into anything, but as long as he keeps it in mind, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“The prosperity of the kingdom will always be my top priority, so I am aware of the weight a potential future marriage would carry. There are many who would aim to get close to me with such hopes in mind, and screening for that alone prevents me from making any hasty decisions,” Az’Lean says matter-of-factly.
Lady Hollowpeann sighs. “Vynn, I wish you were half as responsible as that.”
“Don’t test my patience, mother. I am not above making a scene in front of the king,” Vynn says, pointedly pouring themselves another glass of wine. “Besides, I’m not the heir. What do I need to get married for in the first place?”
Lady Hollowpeann’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, you don’t want to end up alone, do you?”
“Now, now. Everyone has their own individual way of approaching the topic,” your mother says in an attempt at diplomacy. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and everyone has their own destination in mind.”
“Wise words, Lady Grahm,” Miche says. “Monastic service is always an option as well.”
“What about you, $playername?” Lord Hollowpeann asks. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
You swallow down the bite you’d been chewing, surprised at suddenly having become part of the conversation.
[[The thought of marriage makes your stomach churn. “At this point in time, I’m not really interested in getting married.”|Chapter8.9A]]
[[You don’t like the idea of traditional marriage, but a life-long partnership of some kind does sound appealing. “It would be nice to have that sort of commitment.”|Chapter8.9B]]
[[“I haven’t really given it much thought so far.”|Chapter8.9C]]
[[“I would like to get married eventually, but not now.”|Chapter8.9D]]
[[“I would like to get married sooner rather than later.”|Chapter8.9E]]
[[“If someone would want to marry me, I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting the offer, at the very least.”|Chapter8.9F]]
[[“I don’t feel like I have time for marriage. If anything, I feel like I’m married to my work.”|Chapter8.9G]]
You get to see Az’Lean and Vynn all the time, but eating dinner with your family is a rare enough occasion to make the decision obvious. Your father claps you on the shoulder as you slide into the chair next to him while your mother leans around him to look at you.
“There you are, $playername,” she says, brightening when she sees you. The conversation you all had a bit over a week ago is still very present in your mind. It’s a strange thing to consider - quite a few people at this table know that you are a changeling.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us as well, Prince Az’Lean, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen you too, Vynn,” she adds, looking at them very much in the manner a mother looks at her toddler’s playmates. You wonder whether to her, you still all look like children.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir and Lady Grahm,” Az’Lean says politely before greeting the Hollowpeann’s as well. The way he and Vynn both sit there, looking for all the world like they can’t wait for this to be over, is somewhat amusing.
It doesn’t take long for King Az’Marn to join you, and with his arrival, dinner has officially begun. As the first course is served, the tension that comes with being seated at the king’s table quickly disperses, and greetings evolve into small talk.
“It’s good to see you again, Fenrath,” the king says to your father. “Tell me, how is retirement treating you?”
Your father laughs, loud and boisterous. “It is relaxing, of course, though I can’t say I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the capital from time to time. Then again, I’m perfectly content to never have to spend a night in the barracks again.”
“Being a knight is such a noble thing. To willingly endure such discomforts, all for the good of the kingdom,” Lady Hollowpeann says with wide-eyed admiration.
“I think it’s the risking of one’s life that should be considered noble, if anything,” Vynn chimes in. There’s no hiding their disdain.
“All of us should recognise how fortunate we are to have even gotten to this age,” King Az’Marn says, “and that we have children who will carry on after us.”
“Speaking of, you must be so proud of $playername,” Lord Hollowpeann says.
Your father begins to beam with pride and pats your shoulder so hard you nearly drop your spoon. “You can say that again, Glen! <<if $pronoun == "his">> He’s all I’ve ever hoped he’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">> She’s all I’ve ever hoped she’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">> They’re all I’ve ever hoped they’d be and more.”<<endif>>
As soon as the words leave your father’s mouth, the entire table devolves into a competition to see who has the best child. In the end, King Az’Marn ends up winning, for nothing quite comes close to having a prince for a son.
You listen to the entire thing with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, though it would soon get worse. All your mother did was congratulate Rikarda and her husband on their marriage - not the safest of topics.
“In my opinion, there’s no point in waiting too long for the perfect spouse to appear. There’s no such thing. At the end of the day, people grow and change as time goes on, so if there’s compatibility, why wait to get married?” Lord Hollowpeann postulates as the second course is served, looking very pointedly at Rohan, his eldest son.
Rohan rolls his eyes. “I’m not that old yet.”
“I’d say age is one thing, but maturity is another,” King Az’Marn says. “If they’re not able to make the decision on their own, then they're not ready for the commitment anyway. I trust that Az’Lean will think carefully about his future prospects. There’s no point in rushing into anything, but as long as he keeps it in mind, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“The prosperity of the kingdom will always be my top priority, so I am aware of the weight a potential future marriage would carry. There are many who would aim to get close to me with such hopes in mind, and screening for that alone prevents me from making any hasty decisions,” Az’Lean says matter-of-factly.
Lady Hollowpeann sighs. “Vynn, I wish you were half as responsible as that.”
“Don’t test my patience, mother. I am not above making a scene in front of the king,” Vynn says, pointedly pouring themselves another glass of wine. “Besides, I’m not the heir. What do I need to get married for in the first place?”
Lady Hollowpeann’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, you don’t want to end up alone, do you?”
“Now, now. Everyone has their own individual way of approaching the topic,” your mother says in an attempt at diplomacy. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and everyone has their own destination in mind.”
“Wise words, Lady Grahm,” Miche says. “Monastic service is always an option as well.”
“What about you, $playername?” Lord Hollowpeann asks. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
You swallow down the bite you’d been chewing, surprised at suddenly having become part of the conversation.
[[The thought of marriage makes your stomach churn. “At this point in time, I’m not really interested in getting married.”|Chapter8.9A]]
[[You don’t like the idea of traditional marriage, but a life-long partnership of some kind does sound appealing. “It would be nice to have that sort of commitment.”|Chapter8.9B]]
[[“I haven’t really given it much thought so far.”|Chapter8.9C]]
[[“I would like to get married eventually, but not now.”|Chapter8.9D]]
[[“I would like to get married sooner rather than later.”|Chapter8.9E]]
[[“If someone would want to marry me, I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting the offer, at the very least.”|Chapter8.9F]]
[[“I don’t feel like I have time for marriage. If anything, I feel like I’m married to my work.”|Chapter8.9G]]
You feel like both Vynn and Az’Lean might rather sit next to you than the king, and your father would probably appreciate the opportunity to catch up with King Az’Marn himself. It has been some time since they last spoke, but you know how much your father still sees himself as one of the knights - as one of the king’s protectors.
As you sit down between Vynn and Az’Lean, your father reaches across the table to clap you heartily on the shoulder, almost knocking over a pitcher of water in the process. Your mother rolls his eyes at him, but smiles when she catches your eye.
“There you are, $playername,” she says, her face visibly brightening. The conversation you all had a bit over a week ago is still very present in your mind. It’s a strange thing to consider that quite a few people at this table know that you are a changeling.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us as well, Prince Az’Lean, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen you too, Vynn,” she adds, looking at them very much in the manner a mother looks at her toddler’s playmates. You wonder whether to her, you still all look like children.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir and Lady Grahm,” Az’Lean says politely before greeting the Hollowpeann’s as well. The way he and Vynn both sit there on either side of you, stiff as a pair of rocks and looking for all the world like they can’t wait for this to be over, is somewhat amusing.
It doesn’t take long for King Az’Marn to join you, and with his arrival, dinner has officially begun. As the first course is served, the tension that comes with being seated at the king’s table quickly disperses, and greetings evolve into small talk.
“It’s good to see you again, Fenrath,” the king says to your father. “Tell me, how is retirement treating you?”
Your father laughs, loud and boisterous. “It is relaxing, of course, though I can’t say I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the capital from time to time. Then again, I’m perfectly content to never have to spend a night in the barracks again.”
“Being a knight is such a noble thing. To willingly endure such discomforts, all for the good of the kingdom,” Lady Hollowpeann says with wide-eyed admiration.
“I think it’s the risking of one’s life that should be considered noble, if anything,” Vynn chimes in. There’s no hiding their disdain.
“All of us should recognise how fortunate we are to have even gotten to this age,” King Az’Marn says, “and that we have children who will carry on after us.”
“Speaking of, you must be so proud of $playername,” Lord Hollowpeann says.
Your father begins to beam with pride and if he hadn’t been seated next to the king himself, you have no doubt that he would’ve leaned across the table to reach you. “You can say that again, Glen! <<if $pronoun == "his">> He’s all I’ve ever hoped he’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">> She’s all I’ve ever hoped she’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">> They’re all I’ve ever hoped they’d be and more.”<<endif>>
As soon as the words leave your father’s mouth, the entire table devolves into a competition to see who has the best child. In the end, King Az’Marn ends up winning, for nothing quite comes close to having a prince for a son.
You listen to the entire thing with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, though it would soon get worse. All your mother did was congratulate Rikarda and her husband on their marriage - not the safest of topics.
“In my opinion, there’s no point in waiting too long for the perfect spouse to appear. There’s no such thing. At the end of the day, people grow and change as time goes on, so if there’s compatibility, why wait to get married?” Lord Hollowpeann postulates as the second course is served, looking very pointedly at Rohan, his eldest son.
Rohan rolls his eyes. “I’m not that old yet.”
“I’d say age is one thing, but maturity is another,” King Az’Marn says. “If they’re not able to make the decision on their own, then they're not ready for the commitment anyway. I trust that Az’Lean will think carefully about his future prospects. There’s no point in rushing into anything, but as long as he keeps it in mind, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“The prosperity of the kingdom will always be my top priority, so I am aware of the weight a potential future marriage would carry. There are many who would aim to get close to me with such hopes in mind, and screening for that alone prevents me from making any hasty decisions,” Az’Lean says matter-of-factly.
Lady Hollowpeann sighs. “Vynn, I wish you were half as responsible as that.”
“Don’t test my patience, mother. I am not above making a scene in front of the king,” Vynn says, pointedly pouring themselves another glass of wine. “Besides, I’m not the heir. What do I need to get married for in the first place?”
Lady Hollowpeann’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, you don’t want to end up alone, do you?”
“Now, now. Everyone has their own individual way of approaching the topic,” your mother says in an attempt at diplomacy. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and everyone has their own destination in mind.”
“Wise words, Lady Grahm,” Miche says. “Monastic service is always an option as well.”
“What about you, $playername?” Lord Hollowpeann asks. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
You swallow down the bite you’d been chewing, surprised at suddenly having become part of the conversation.
[[The thought of marriage makes your stomach churn. “At this point in time, I’m not really interested in getting married.”|Chapter8.9A]]
[[You don’t like the idea of traditional marriage, but a life-long partnership of some kind does sound appealing. “It would be nice to have that sort of commitment.”|Chapter8.9B]]
[[“I haven’t really given it much thought so far.”|Chapter8.9C]]
[[“I would like to get married eventually, but not now.”|Chapter8.9D]]
[[“I would like to get married sooner rather than later.”|Chapter8.9E]]
[[“If someone would want to marry me, I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting the offer, at the very least.”|Chapter8.9F]]
[[“I don’t feel like I have time for marriage. If anything, I feel like I’m married to my work.”|Chapter8.9G]]
You get to see Az’Lean and Vynn all the time, but eating dinner with your family is a rare enough occasion to make the decision obvious. Your father claps you on the shoulder as you slide into the chair next to him while your mother leans around him to look at you.
“There you are, $playername,” she says, brightening when she sees you. The conversation you all had a bit over a week ago is still very present in your mind. It’s a strange thing to consider - quite a few people at this table know that you are a changeling.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us as well, Prince Az’Lean, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen you too, Vynn,” she adds, looking at them very much in the manner a mother looks at her toddler’s playmates. You wonder whether to her, you still all look like children.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir and Lady Grahm,” Az’Lean says politely before greeting the Hollowpeann’s as well. The way he and Vynn both sit there, looking for all the world like they can’t wait for this to be over, is somewhat amusing.
It doesn’t take long for King Az’Marn to join you, and with his arrival, dinner has officially begun. As the first course is served, the tension that comes with being seated at the king’s table quickly disperses, and greetings evolve into small talk.
“It’s good to see you again, Fenrath,” the king says to your father. “Tell me, how is retirement treating you?”
Your father laughs, loud and boisterous. “It is relaxing, of course, though I can’t say I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the capital from time to time. Then again, I’m perfectly content to never have to spend a night in the barracks again.”
“Being a knight is such a noble thing. To willingly endure such discomforts, all for the good of the kingdom,” Lady Hollowpeann says with wide-eyed admiration.
“I think it’s the risking of one’s life that should be considered noble, if anything,” Vynn chimes in. There’s no hiding their disdain.
“All of us should recognise how fortunate we are to have even gotten to this age,” King Az’Marn says, “and that we have children who will carry on after us.”
“Speaking of, you must be so proud of $playername,” Lord Hollowpeann says.
Your father begins to beam with pride and pats your shoulder so hard you nearly drop your spoon. “You can say that again, Glen! <<if $pronoun == "his">> He’s all I’ve ever hoped he’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">> She’s all I’ve ever hoped she’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">> They’re all I’ve ever hoped they’d be and more.”<<endif>>
As soon as the words leave your father’s mouth, the entire table devolves into a competition to see who has the best child. In the end, King Az’Marn ends up winning, for nothing quite comes close to having a prince for a son.
You listen to the entire thing with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, though it would soon get worse. All your mother did was congratulate Rikarda and her husband on their marriage - not the safest of topics.
“In my opinion, there’s no point in waiting too long for the perfect spouse to appear. There’s no such thing. At the end of the day, people grow and change as time goes on, so if there’s compatibility, why wait to get married?” Lord Hollowpeann postulates as the second course is served, looking very pointedly at Rohan, his eldest son.
Rohan rolls his eyes. “I’m not that old yet.”
“I’d say age is one thing, but maturity is another,” King Az’Marn says. “If they’re not able to make the decision on their own, then they're not ready for the commitment anyway. I trust that Az’Lean will think carefully about his future prospects. There’s no point in rushing into anything, but as long as he keeps it in mind, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“The prosperity of the kingdom will always be my top priority, so I am aware of the weight a potential future marriage would carry. There are many who would aim to get close to me with such hopes in mind, and screening for that alone prevents me from making any hasty decisions,” Az’Lean says matter-of-factly.
Lady Hollowpeann sighs. “Vynn, I wish you were half as responsible as that.”
“Don’t test my patience, mother. I am not above making a scene in front of the king,” Vynn says, pointedly pouring themselves another glass of wine. “Besides, I’m not the heir. What do I need to get married for in the first place?”
Lady Hollowpeann’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, you don’t want to end up alone, do you?”
“Now, now. Everyone has their own individual way of approaching the topic,” your mother says in an attempt at diplomacy. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and everyone has their own destination in mind.”
“Wise words, Lady Grahm,” Miche says. “Monastic service is always an option as well.”
“What about you, $playername?” Lord Hollowpeann asks. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
You swallow down the bite you’d been chewing, surprised at suddenly having become part of the conversation.
[[The thought of marriage makes your stomach churn. “At this point in time, I’m not really interested in getting married.”|Chapter8.9A]]
[[You don’t like the idea of traditional marriage, but a life-long partnership of some kind does sound appealing. “It would be nice to have that sort of commitment.”|Chapter8.9B]]
[[“I haven’t really given it much thought so far.”|Chapter8.9C]]
[[“I would like to get married eventually, but not now.”|Chapter8.9D]]
[[“I would like to get married sooner rather than later.”|Chapter8.9E]]
[[“If someone would want to marry me, I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting the offer, at the very least.”|Chapter8.9F]]
[[“I don’t feel like I have time for marriage. If anything, I feel like I’m married to my work.”|Chapter8.9G]]
You feel like both Vynn and Az’Lean might rather sit next to you than the king, and your father would probably appreciate the opportunity to catch up with King Az’Marn himself. It has been some time since they last spoke, but you know how much your father still sees himself as one of the knights - as one of the king’s protectors.
As you sit down between Vynn and Az’Lean, your father reaches across the table to clap you heartily on the shoulder, almost knocking over a pitcher of water in the process. Your mother rolls his eyes at him, but smiles when she catches your eye.
“There you are, $playername,” she says, her face visibly brightening. The conversation you all had a bit over a week ago is still very present in your mind. It’s a strange thing to consider that quite a few people at this table know that you are a changeling.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us as well, Prince Az’Lean, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen you too, Vynn,” she adds, looking at them very much in the manner a mother looks at her toddler’s playmates. You wonder whether to her, you still all look like children.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir and Lady Grahm,” Az’Lean says politely before greeting the Hollowpeann’s as well. The way he and Vynn both sit there on either side of you, stiff as a pair of rocks and looking for all the world like they can’t wait for this to be over, is somewhat amusing.
It doesn’t take long for King Az’Marn to join you, and with his arrival, dinner has officially begun. As the first course is served, the tension that comes with being seated at the king’s table quickly disperses, and greetings evolve into small talk.
“It’s good to see you again, Fenrath,” the king says to your father. “Tell me, how is retirement treating you?”
Your father laughs, loud and boisterous. “It is relaxing, of course, though I can’t say I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the capital from time to time. Then again, I’m perfectly content to never have to spend a night in the barracks again.”
“Being a knight is such a noble thing. To willingly endure such discomforts, all for the good of the kingdom,” Lady Hollowpeann says with wide-eyed admiration.
“I think it’s the risking of one’s life that should be considered noble, if anything,” Vynn chimes in. There’s no hiding their disdain.
“All of us should recognise how fortunate we are to have even gotten to this age,” King Az’Marn says, “and that we have children who will carry on after us.”
“Speaking of, you must be so proud of $playername,” Lord Hollowpeann says.
Your father begins to beam with pride and if he hadn’t been seated next to the king himself, you have no doubt that he would’ve leaned across the table to reach you. “You can say that again, Glen! <<if $pronoun == "his">> He’s all I’ve ever hoped he’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">> She’s all I’ve ever hoped she’d be and more.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">> They’re all I’ve ever hoped they’d be and more.”<<endif>>
As soon as the words leave your father’s mouth, the entire table devolves into a competition to see who has the best child. In the end, King Az’Marn ends up winning, for nothing quite comes close to having a prince for a son.
You listen to the entire thing with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, though it would soon get worse. All your mother did was congratulate Rikarda and her husband on their marriage - not the safest of topics.
“In my opinion, there’s no point in waiting too long for the perfect spouse to appear. There’s no such thing. At the end of the day, people grow and change as time goes on, so if there’s compatibility, why wait to get married?” Lord Hollowpeann postulates as the second course is served, looking very pointedly at Rohan, his eldest son.
Rohan rolls his eyes. “I’m not that old yet.”
“I’d say age is one thing, but maturity is another,” King Az’Marn says. “If they’re not able to make the decision on their own, then they're not ready for the commitment anyway. I trust that Az’Lean will think carefully about his future prospects. There’s no point in rushing into anything, but as long as he keeps it in mind, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“The prosperity of the kingdom will always be my top priority, so I am aware of the weight a potential future marriage would carry. There are many who would aim to get close to me with such hopes in mind, and screening for that alone prevents me from making any hasty decisions,” Az’Lean says matter-of-factly.
Lady Hollowpeann sighs. “Vynn, I wish you were half as responsible as that.”
“Don’t test my patience, mother. I am not above making a scene in front of the king,” Vynn says, pointedly pouring themselves another glass of wine. “Besides, I’m not the heir. What do I need to get married for in the first place?”
Lady Hollowpeann’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, you don’t want to end up alone, do you?”
“Now, now. Everyone has their own individual way of approaching the topic,” your mother says in an attempt at diplomacy. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and everyone has their own destination in mind.”
“Wise words, Lady Grahm,” Miche says. “Monastic service is always an option as well.”
“What about you, $playername?” Lord Hollowpeann asks. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
You swallow down the bite you’d been chewing, surprised at suddenly having become part of the conversation.
[[The thought of marriage makes your stomach churn. “At this point in time, I’m not really interested in getting married.”|Chapter8.9A]]
[[You don’t like the idea of traditional marriage, but a life-long partnership of some kind does sound appealing. “It would be nice to have that sort of commitment.”|Chapter8.9B]]
[[“I haven’t really given it much thought so far.”|Chapter8.9C]]
[[“I would like to get married eventually, but not now.”|Chapter8.9D]]
[[“I would like to get married sooner rather than later.”|Chapter8.9E]]
[[“If someone would want to marry me, I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting the offer, at the very least.”|Chapter8.9F]]
[[“I don’t feel like I have time for marriage. If anything, I feel like I’m married to my work.”|Chapter8.9G]]
<<set $koto to "yes">>\
You hand the old man a few gold coins and he happily wraps the instrument in a protective cloth before handing it to you.
“Pleasure doing business witcha,” he says. “Hope it does end up making some fine music.”
“I know someone who’s very skilled with a lute - maybe they’ll be able to figure it out. Have a nice day,” you say before taking your leave.
Giving this to Vynn as a present is the obvious choice, but you could also decide to keep it for yourself. Maybe someone else would be interested in this as well? You aren’t quite sure. For now though, you’ll have to carry it with you. In hindsight, it is a bit cumbersome to lug around, and you have to press it against your chest to avoid hitting people with it. If someone were to attack Az’Lean right now, you’d probably just have to drop it onto the ground in order to draw your weapon - or chuck it at them.
It’s been a minute so you look back over at Az’Lean and his father, though they still seem to be occupied. You probably shouldn’t buy anything else, but you could go get a tarot reading of your own. Alternatively, you could just head back to them now.
<<if $tarot is not 1>>
[[You decide to get a tarot card reading. (15 min)|Chapter8Tarot]]
<<else>>
<<if $route == 1>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8A7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8B7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8C7]]<<endif>>\
<<endif>>The woman shuffles the cards one final time before spreading them out in front of you. “Choose two cards. The first will indicate what danger lies in wait for you, and the second will help you understand how to overcome it.”
You pick out two random cards. Anticipation builds within you as she slowly flips the first card around.
<<if $route == 1>>
“The Emperor, in the reversed position.”
The card shows a man with an uncanny resemblance to King Az’Marn, seated upon a throne. The card is upside down, and the Emperor’s crown points like a row of daggers towards you.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that an abuse of authority might await you. A powerful figure in your life might make decisions that restrict your freedoms, or treat you coldly. The Emperor is often associated with fatherly figures.”
It seems further interpretation is up to you.
“The second card is… The Wheel of Fortune, in the upright position.”
The card shows a wheel among clouds, surrounded by various animals and magical beasts. There’s a lot to take in.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that certain cycles will repeat. At first, it might seem that everything is changing, but even that is part of life. The best course of action is to go with the flow, and accept what fate has in store for you.”
It seems that once again, further interpretation is up to you. The reversed Emperor and The Wheel of Fortune. You have a few ideas what they could be hinting at…
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
“The Chariot, in the reversed position.”
The card shows a knight on a chariot being pulled by two horses. The card is upside down, and it looks like the chariot has gone so wildly off course that it flipped.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that a loss of control might await you. There’s a lack of direction, things are falling apart and spiralling into aggression. The Chariot is often associated with difficult obstacles and the will to overcome them.”
It seems further interpretation is up to you.
“The second card is… Death, in the upright position.”
The card shows a skeleton in black armour on a pale white horse, holding a sword in one hand and a scythe in the other. That kind of reminds you of Gaiapeia’s flag.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that some things have to end in order for change to occur. A cycle will come to and end, a metamorphosis will happen, and a rebirth awaits. To move on, something else must be let go.”
It seems that once again, further interpretation is up to you. The reversed Chariot and Death. You have a few ideas what they could be hinting at…
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
“The Moon, in the reversed position.”
The card shows a pair of fish, circling each other in the middle of a lake, a full moon above them. The card is upside down, so it looks like they’re flying.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that something is hidden from you. Confusion and fear will take hold, and what information can be found might be misunderstood. The types of truths that the Moon is concerned with are often internal or unconscious. A universal truth exists that you cannot grasp.”
It seems further interpretation is up to you.
“The second card is… Temperance, in the upright position.”
The card shows an elegant woman, pouring liquid from one cup into another. She looks utterly at peace, and nature is thriving around her.
The woman continues: “This card indicates the finding of answers through patience. The Temperance card promotes balance, compromise, and the willingness to learn and understand. The key to success is keeping an open mind.”
It seems that once again, further interpretation is up to you. The reversed Moon and Temperance. You have a few ideas what they could be hinting at…
<<endif>>\
“Thank you. You have given me a lot to think about,” you say as you pay the woman for her services.
“I have done nothing. It is the cards that allow us to figure these things out for ourselves,” she says and leaves it at that.
It’s been a minute so you look back over at Az’Lean and his father, though they still seem to be occupied. You probably could spend a few more minutes looking around at all of the stalls. Alternatively, you could just head back to them now.
<<if $shop1 == "yes">>
<<if $route == 1>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8A7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8B7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8C7]]<<endif>>\
<<else>>
[[You decide to look at some things on sale. (15 min)|Chapter8Shop]]
<<endif>>
“No wonder. You’re barely of age,” Rohan says, waving his hands flippantly. “Don’t let anyone pressure you into anything.”
“The prince is the same age, and yet you spoke about courting him just hours ago,” Miche points out, unaware of the air of embarrassment her words create.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
“There’ll be a time when you’re ready, I’m sure,” your mother assures you. “Only you can decide when that is.”
“Maybe you’ll find someone soon,” Lady Hollowpeann adds rather pointedly. You’re not sure what she’s insinuating, but it’s best not to ask.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
“Oh, then do you have someone in mind already?” Lady Hollowpeann asks rather pointedly.
Whether you do or not, it’s really none of her business.
“That’s a rather personal question, isn’t it?” Vynn bites back on your behalf, though it doesn’t do much to ease the tension.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
Your father laughs. “Oh $playername, I have no doubt that someone is going to ask you eventually. How could they not? So it’s a question of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’.”
Then again, would someone want to marry you if they knew you were a changeling? Even though your father was trying to compliment you, it left you feeling a bit unsure.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
Your answer is met with awkward silence. Looks are exchanged. It’s all very confusing, until you realise the implication of your words. <i>Az’Lean</i> is your work, essentially. Maybe you worded that a bit unfortunately.
“Our duties do take precedence,” Az’Lean says, trying his best to smooth things out but only stoking the flames by acknowledging the implication that there is an <i>our</i> to begin with.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
Both Vynn and Az’Lean nod in understanding, while Lord Hollowpeann shrugs in the sort of gesture that shows he had hoped to hear something else from you but isn’t very surprised.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
“It is quite a wonderful thing,” Rikarda’s husband agrees.
“There’s nothing of equal value,” King Az’Marn adds, and the mood turns sombre.
Thankfully for all of you, soon enough the next course is served and conversation dies down for a bit. You hear loud laughter from some of the other tables - it seems the alcohol has begun to flow freely. Seeing as you are technically still on duty, you abstain - your father is drinking enough for the both of you anyways.
The atmosphere gets more relaxed as the noise gets louder, laughter and arguments mixing together in equal measure. Once it is time for dessert, a few nobles already have to excuse themselves - some to nurse their spinning heads and cramping stomachs, some to nurse their bruised egos or broken hearts. It is all par for the course, naturally, and yet it never ceases to amaze you how quickly some people fall apart during celebrations such as these.
You try to enjoy your time as best as you can, knowing that this isn’t the end of your workday just yet. Az’Lean still has to give his speech. You’re curious what he will say and how it compares to his father’s earlier welcome address.
Once the last bits of cake have been cleaned off of everyone’s plates, King Az’Marn is the first to leave your table. You and Az’Lean decide to follow his example, since you have to head all the way back to the marketplace and onto the stage.
Leaving Vynn with their parents isn’t ideal, but at least their siblings and your own parents are there to keep the peace.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8A10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8B10]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You wish everyone a pleasant evening and express your hope to spend some more time with them tomorrow.|Chapter8C10]]<<endif>>\
The atmosphere around the stage is very different compared to earlier. Any sort of anticipation is gone and the people are already deeply immersed in all the joys the festival has to offer. As you take your position, as always keeping a watchful eye on the crowd, you spot Lester sitting cross-legged on a roof. A pipe is held loosely in his hand and he seems to be watching the stage intently, likely waiting to hear Az’Lean’s speech and rip it to shreds in his imagination.
As soon as Az’Lean begins to speak, a reverent silence envelops the market place.
“Dear guests of this year’s Summer Solstice Festival - let me once again welcome you. It has been a joy to see so many of you show up, and I sincerely hope that it has been an enjoyable first day for you as well. As big and as extravagant this year’s celebration is, I have to admit, these past few weeks haven’t been easy on us. Surely you’ve heard of it - attacks in Westwale territory, an infiltration of the castle - events that were both shocking and terrifying. And yet, here we are, safe and sound, ready to throw off all this stress and worry, if just for a few days. I am not exaggerating when I say that this was in large part possible due to my new Champion's impeccable service. Let us all toast to $playername Grahm, for all <<if $pronoun == "his">>he has already given to this kingdom, and all he will continue to give from now on.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "her">>she has already given to this kingdom, and all she will continue to give from now on.”<<endif>> <<if $pronoun == "their">>they have already given to this kingdom, and all they will continue to give from now on.”<<endif>>
A round of applause circulates in your honour. You’re not quite sure whether Az’Lean is actually praising you, or just reminding you of the fact that there’s no going back on your promise to prove your loyalty to the kingdom no matter the cost. In either case, you receive the people’s admiration with a stoic half-bow.
Az’Lean continues:
“Let us use this festival as a new starting point. Let hardship and struggle remain in the past, and let only triumph await us from now on. Let this be the last celebration that we have to go through with fears and doubts weighing on our minds. The future for our kingdom will be bright, I promise you that. Just as I will do everything in my power to make it happen, I will continue to count on the support of all of you. No matter what divides us, at the end of the day we are all Gaiapeians, and all our destinies are intertwined. So let us use this festival as an opportunity to strengthen our hearts and strengthen our bonds!”
The crowd cheers happily in response. It was a speech full of pathos and you have no doubt that quite a few people found it inspirational. What stuck out to you, however, was how much Az’Lean had emphasised the future - and perhaps his place as ruler within it.
Nevertheless the speech is well received, and as people disperse from around the stage again to get back to drinking and dancing, it is with a rekindled fire in their hearts. Only Lester, still sitting out on the roof, looks less than pleased. It’s hard to make out his expression in detail, though at a glance his reaction seems to be one of concern…
With this, Az’Lean decides to turn in for the night. This is only the first day, after all. You figure you should do the same, to keep yourself fit and your senses sharp for the days to come.
[[As you retreat to your chambers for the night, you truly do wonder what the future is going to look like.|Chapter8A11]]
The atmosphere around the stage is very different compared to earlier. Any sort of anticipation is gone and the people are already deeply immersed in all the joys the festival has to offer. As you take your position, as always keeping a watchful eye on the crowd, you spot Lester sitting cross-legged on a roof. A pipe is held loosely in his hand and he seems to be watching the stage intently, likely waiting to hear Az’Lean’s speech and rip it to shreds in his imagination.
As soon as Az’Lean begins to speak, a reverent silence envelops the market place.
“Dear guests of this year’s Summer Solstice Festival - let me once again welcome you. It has been a joy to see so many of you show up, and I sincerely hope that it has been an enjoyable first day for you as well. In times like these, we must remember to not lose sight of the good days, for we never know how many of them there will be. In that vein, why shouldn’t we be celebrating like this might be our last chance? Like this might be our last four days on earth? Right now, we are safe, we are gathered here as a community - let us make the most of it. Let us enjoy ourselves to our heart’s content. There might be dark days ahead, but the only thing that matters is the present - the here and now.”
Roars of agreement echo throughout the crowd. Everyone in attendance seems to be eager to lose themselves in revelry - the consequences be damned. It is almost unsettling, the way this yearning for escapism betrays the fear and doubt underneath. Az’Lean wears a determined expression as he talks, much as if he were issuing a command. The people hang onto his every word:
He continues:
“Let us use this festival as a reminder of all the things in our lives worth fighting for. There has been a lot of conflict in the past, and will be more conflict to come. What is worth fighting for, if not good company like this, and joyful times like these? Burn these happy days into your mind. Let them be your fuel to keep the flame of hope lit in the darkness to come. It’s not a question of whether we will persevere or not - we have to. Just as I will do everything in my power to protect this kingdom, I will continue to count on the support of all of you. No matter what divides us, at the end of the day we are all Gaiapeians, and all our destinies are intertwined. We thrive together, or we fall together. So let us use this festival as an opportunity to strengthen our resolve and strengthen our bonds!”
The crowd cheers in response, more furious than cheerful, but boisterous nonetheless. It was a speech full of passion, and you have no doubt that it managed to inspire quite a few listeners. What stuck out to you the most though is Az’Lean’s focus on the fleeting nature of this festival, and darker times to come. It almost makes it seem as if he knows for a fact that war is imminent - or that he himself is planning to start one.
Nevertheless the speech is well received, and as people disperse from around the stage again to get back to drinking and dancing, it is with iron-clad determination in their hearts. Only Lester, still sitting out on the roof, looks less than pleased. It’s hard to make out his expression in detail, though at a glance his reaction seems to be one of disappointment.
With this, Az’Lean decides to turn in for the night. This is only the first day, after all. You return to your chambers as well, looking forward to the opportunity to discuss the day’s events with Maeve.
When you call out to her, however, she does not appear. You poke the sapling a few times, but nothing happens. Maybe you shouldn’t be too surprised - she is likely celebrating in her grove, or might have gone to bed herself already.
[[You’ll have to check back in with her come morning.|Chapter8B11]]
The atmosphere around the stage is very different compared to earlier. Any sort of anticipation is gone and the people are already deeply immersed in all the joys the festival has to offer. As you take your position, as always keeping a watchful eye on the crowd, you spot Lester sitting cross-legged on a roof. A pipe is held loosely in his hand and he seems to be watching the stage intently, likely waiting to hear Az’Lean’s speech and rip it to shreds in his imagination.
As soon as Az’Lean begins to speak, a reverent silence envelops the market place.
“Dear guests of this year’s Summer Solstice Festival - let me once again welcome you. It has been a joy to see so many of you show up, and I sincerely hope that it has been an enjoyable first day for you as well. In times like these, it is important to take some time to unwind and leave our troubles behind. Even if it is just for a couple of days, I want you all to feel right at home here in the city. I want you to feel safe and respected, no matter which part of the kingdom you came from, and no matter your status or profession. Just as the sun shines on us all equally, the Summer Solstice Festival should be enjoyed by everyone equally. And if it takes a bit of alcohol for us to come together, then that’s just as well.”
A bit of laughter echoes through the crowd. Someone shouts “It’s true, nobles can get shit faced just the same as the rest of us!” and delighted applause follows. Az’Lean puts on his most dazzling, charming smile and laughs along with the rest of them. You know he’s just putting on a show, but it works. The people hang on to his every word.
He continues:
“Let us use this festival as a reminder of all the things in our lives worth fighting for. There has been a lot of conflict in the past, and there might yet be more conflict to come. But as long as we keep our good spirits, as long as we have festivals to look forward to and friends and neighbours worth knowing, we can keep on moving forward - past all of this strife to a better future. Just as I will do everything in my power to make it happen, I will continue to count on the support of all of you. No matter what divides us, at the end of the day we are all Gaiapeians, and all our destinies are intertwined. So let us use this festival as an opportunity to strengthen our hearts and strengthen our bonds!”
The crowd cheers happily in response. It was a speech full of hope and comradery, and you have no doubt that it managed to make everyone in attendance feel just a bit more connected. What stuck out to you the most was that Az’Lean never once mentioned humanity or the fae - as though any sort of conflict between the two groups was merely conceptual.
Nevertheless the speech is well received, and as people disperse from around the stage again to get back to drinking and dancing, it is with brightly shining light in their hearts. Even Lester, still sitting out on the roof, looks somewhat pleased. It’s hard to make out his expression in detail, though at a glance his reaction seems to be one of contentment.
With this, Az’Lean decides to turn in for the night. This is only the first day, after all. You figure you should do the same, to keep yourself fit and your senses sharp for the days to come.
[[As you retreat to your chambers for the night, you truly do wonder if there is something, some greater hope, connecting everyone together.|Chapter8C11]]
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 9th of the Midday Moon
!!!Second Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
The next day, immediately after breakfast, you find yourself in the marketplace once again. The atmosphere has markedly calmed down, now that everyone has arrived and settled in, and the first wave excitement has passed.
Today is dedicated mostly to the entertainment of children - fun performances, games galore, and heaps upon heaps of candy that is sold on every corner. Although not quite your scene, you are still entertained listening to the upbeat music and looking at the colourful outfits of jesters and acrobats.
Az’Lean has organised for there to be 24 hours of uninterrupted entertainment on the main stage, so the area around it is crowded at all times, even in the morning. You stick close to Az’Lean as you make your way through the crowd and inside an unassuming building right across from the stage. This building’s balcony has been transformed into a sort of impromptu lodge, so Az’Lean and his father are always guaranteed to have a seat reserved for them that not only has a great view but is safe as well.
While King Az’Marn is nowhere to be seen, you spot a few other familiar faces. Vynn is standing guard at the entrance of the balcony, half leaning against the wall as if they are about to fall asleep any second now. Thianne is seated on one of the chairs, but instead of looking at the stage she has her nose stuck in a book. Next to the balcony, on the ledge of the neighbouring building, Lester is sitting, looking up when you and Az’Lean step through the doorway.
“Figured you’d come here, Princeling. I’ve got a message for you,” Lester whispers, beckoning the two of you towards him.
With piqued curiosity you oblige him.
“What’s this about?” Az’Lean asks, instantly sounding suspicious.
Lester rolls his eyes. “Listen, it’s about that guy you bought from last month. He refuses to make any more shipments.”
You have no idea what this is about, and your expression must have betrayed you.
“Remember your first day, when I showed you around the castle and you first met Lester? He gave me a package back then,” Az’Lean explains.
“I do vaguely remember that, yes.”
“It was alchemical reagents - the kind that my father wouldn’t like to see me purchase, so I went through Lester to get them. Say what you want about him, but he has no loyalty left for my father.”
Lester frowns. “You’re supposed to follow that up with a <i>good</i> quality. You could’ve said ‘Say what you want about him, but he’s got connections, is discreet and knows how to make speedy deliveries.’”
Even now, you still don’t have a grasp on what is going on between Az’Lean and Lester. It sometimes sounds like they are almost friends, and yet there is this deep animosity, suspicion and bitterness between them.
“That makes sense,” you say, skipping right past their bickering. “Is there a reason this ‘guy’ isn’t selling anymore?”
Lester nods, green eyes glinting dangerously. “Word is he’s been bought out. Bought out by someone who does not want to support the prince.”
“I’d suggest it was you but I know you don’t have that kind of gold,” Az’Lean says. “So an anti-royalist then, or something?”
“Who knows? Just thought I’d let you know before you get on my case about not being able to deliver. You’ll have to find yourself another source.”
Az’Lean doesn’t look pleased to hear it. “Fair enough. You can go, Lester.”
“Nah, I’ll stay and watch. I heard the play that’s coming up next is supposed to be pretty good,” Lester says and makes himself comfortable on the ledge. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that he is dangerously high up.
Az’Lean doesn’t grace him with another word and opts to take a seat as well.
As for you, as long as you’re on the balcony, there’s a few options for where you could sit.
[[You decide to sit next to Thianne.|Chapter8A12A]]
[[You decide to sit next to Az’Lean.|Chapter8A12B]]
[[You decide to sit in the very back where Vynn is standing.|Chapter8A12C]]
[[You decide to sit at the very edge, next to the ledge Lester is on.|Chapter8A12D]]!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 9th of the Midday Moon
!!!Second Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
The next day, immediately after breakfast, you find yourself in the marketplace once again. The atmosphere has markedly calmed down, now that everyone has arrived and settled in, and the first wave excitement has passed.
Today is dedicated mostly to the entertainment of children - fun performances, games galore, and heaps upon heaps of candy that is sold on every corner. Although not quite your scene, you are still entertained listening to the upbeat music and looking at the colourful outfits of jesters and acrobats.
Az’Lean has organised for there to be 24 hours of uninterrupted entertainment on the main stage, so the area around it is crowded at all times, even in the morning. You remain in Az’Lean's vicinity as you make your way through the crowd and inside an unassuming building right across from the stage. This building’s balcony has been transformed into a sort of impromptu lodge, so Az’Lean and his father are always guaranteed to have a seat reserved for them that not only has a great view but is safe as well.
While King Az’Marn is nowhere to be seen, you spot a few other familiar faces. Vynn is standing guard at the entrance of the balcony, half leaning against the wall as if they are about to fall asleep any second now. Thianne is seated on one of the chairs, but instead of looking at the stage she has her nose stuck in a book. Next to the balcony, on the ledge of the neighbouring building, Lester is sitting, looking up when you and Az’Lean step through the doorway.
“Figured you’d come here, Princeling. I’ve got a message for you,” Lester whispers, beckoning the two of you towards him.
With piqued curiosity you oblige him.
“What’s this about?” Az’Lean asks, instantly sounding suspicious.
Lester rolls his eyes. “Listen, it’s about that guy you bought from last month. He refuses to make any more shipments.”
You have no idea what this is about, and your expression must have betrayed you.
“Remember your first day, when I showed you around the castle and you first met Lester? He gave me a package back then,” Az’Lean explains.
“I do vaguely remember that, yes.”
“It was alchemical reagents - the kind that my father wouldn’t like to see me purchase, so I went through Lester to get them. Say what you want about him, but he has no loyalty left for my father.”
Lester frowns. “You’re supposed to follow that up with a <i>good</i> quality. You could’ve said ‘Say what you want about him, but he’s got connections, is discreet and knows how to make speedy deliveries.’”
Even now, you still don’t have a grasp on what is going on between Az’Lean and Lester. It sometimes sounds like they are almost friends, and yet there is this deep animosity, suspicion and bitterness between them.
“That makes sense,” you say, skipping right past their bickering. “Is there a reason this ‘guy’ isn’t selling anymore?”
Lester nods, green eyes glinting dangerously. “Word is he’s been bought out. Bought out by someone who does not want to support the prince.”
“I’d suggest it was you but I know you don’t have that kind of gold,” Az’Lean says. “So an anti-royalist then, or something?”
“Who knows? Just thought I’d let you know before you get on my case about not being able to deliver. You’ll have to find yourself another source.”
Az’Lean doesn’t look pleased to hear it. “Fair enough. You can go, Lester.”
“Nah, I’ll stay and watch. I heard the play that’s coming up next is supposed to be pretty good,” Lester says and makes himself comfortable on the ledge. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that he is dangerously high up.
Az’Lean doesn’t grace him with another word and opts to take a seat as well.
As for you, as long as you’re on the balcony, there’s a few options for where you could sit.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
[[You need to start looking for opportunities to somehow get a bit of blood from Thianne. Maybe you can somehow get her to cut herself on the paper of her book?|Chapter8C12A]]<<else>>
[[You decide to sit next to Thianne.|Chapter8C12A]]
[[You decide to sit next to Az’Lean.|Chapter8C12B]]
[[You decide to sit in the very back where Vynn is standing.|Chapter8C12C]]
[[You decide to sit at the very edge, next to the ledge Lester is on.|Chapter8C12D]]
<<endif>>\!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 9th of the Midday Moon
!!!Second Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
The next morning, you finally get a chance to check in with Maeve. It seems she had a busy day yesterday and didn't get much sleep. Nevertheless, she listens intently as you tell her all about what has happened during the first day of the festival.
“So they really do plan to put these magical barrier devices along the entirety of the border,” she says, not bothering to hide her concern. “If production is officially underway, we might only have a few weeks to figure out how to deal with this.”
“Maybe I’ll get a chance to speak to some of the nobles who have border territories. I could ask them if they have any sort of schedule planned for getting them installed,” you say. “I’m sure Vynn will think to do the same, and Lester is sure to have his ears to the ground as well.”
“The more information we have, the better. Are you going to have any free time today?”
You shrug. “Not a lot, unfortunately. My only day off is Sunday, so even during times when Az’Lean wants to be alone, I am still on duty and need to be ready to respond.”
Maeve purses her lips. “Then I hope you don’t mind if I don’t stay here.” She gestures at the room. “The Solstice has brought a few guests to our grove, and ‘tis a prime opportunity for me to gather information as well. There’ll also be a meeting of the Seelie Court tomorrow where I’ll have to report in. I’ll let you know what they think of what we have discussed so far.”
“Do you think they’ll ask us to do something in particular?”
“It’s possible. So far, my mission has been to stay in contact with you, encourage you to offer your aid and gather information. The point where they might ask us to engage in some actual sabotage might come soon if they fear that the humans will go on the offensive.”
You’re not quite sure how comfortable you are with potentially following the orders of someone you don’t even know. Then again, how would you even go about meeting them? Maeve is your middlewoman, and there’s no changing that. It all hinges on her in the end.
“I understand. Let me know what they say, either tonight or tomorrow morning. Whenever you can,” you say. “It’s a bit unfortunate that we can’t spend our time together talking about something more enjoyable, but it is what it is.”
Maeve smiles coyly. “There’ll be time for that as well, $playername. Go on now, you don’t want to explain to the prince why you’re late.”
“Sorry Az’Lean, I was talking to my purely decorative plant,” you say, but Maeve has already vanished, and your jest has become reality.
After breakfast, you find yourself in the marketplace once again. The atmosphere has markedly calmed down, now that everyone has arrived and settled in, and the first wave excitement has passed.
Today is dedicated mostly to the entertainment of children - fun performances, games galore, and heaps upon heaps of candy that is sold on every corner. Although not quite your scene, you are still entertained listening to the upbeat music and looking at the colourful outfits of jesters and acrobats.
Az’Lean has organised for there to be 24 hours of uninterrupted entertainment on the main stage, so the area around it ss crowded at all times, even in the morning. You lazily follow after Az’Lean as you make your way through the crowd and inside an unassuming building right across from the stage. This building’s balcony has been transformed into a sort of impromptu lodge, so Az’Lean and his father are always guaranteed to have a seat reserved for them that not only has a great view but is safe as well.
While King Az’Marn is nowhere to be seen, you spot a few other familiar faces. Vynn is standing guard at the entrance of the balcony, half leaning against the wall as if they are about to fall asleep any second now. Thianne is seated on one of the chairs, but instead of looking at the stage she has her nose stuck in a book. Next to the balcony, on the ledge of the neighbouring building, Lester is sitting, looking up when you and Az’Lean step through the doorway.
“Figured you’d come here, Princeling. I’ve got a message for you,” Lester whispers, beckoning the two of you towards him.
With piqued curiosity you oblige him.
“What’s this about?” Az’Lean asks, instantly sounding suspicious.
Lester rolls his eyes. “Listen, it’s about that guy you bought from last month. He refuses to make any more shipments.”
You have no idea what this is about, and your expression must have betrayed you.
“Remember your first day, when I showed you around the castle and you first met Lester? He gave me a package back then,” Az’Lean explains.
“I do vaguely remember that, yes.”
“It was alchemical reagents - the kind that my father wouldn’t like to see me purchase, so I went through Lester to get them. Say what you want about him, but he has no loyalty left for my father.”
Lester frowns. “You’re supposed to follow that up with a <i>good</i> quality. You could’ve said ‘Say what you want about him, but he’s got connections, is discreet and knows how to make speedy deliveries.’”
Even now, you still don’t have a grasp on what is going on between Az’Lean and Lester. It sometimes sounds like they are almost friends, and yet there is this deep animosity, suspicion and bitterness between them. Lester will have to tell you the story someday - you can’t imagine that it isn’t somehow relevant.
“That makes sense,” you say, skipping right past their bickering. “Is there a reason this ‘guy’ isn’t selling anymore?”
Lester nods, green eyes glinting dangerously. “Word is he’s been bought out. Bought out by someone who does not want to support the prince.”
“I’d suggest it was you but I know you don’t have that kind of gold,” Az’Lean says. “So an anti-royalist then, or something?”
“Who knows? Just thought I’d let you know before you get on my case about not being able to deliver. You’ll have to find yourself another source.”
Az’Lean doesn’t look pleased to hear it. “Fair enough. You can go, Lester.”
“Nah, I’ll stay and watch. I heard the play that’s coming up next is supposed to be pretty good,” Lester says and makes himself comfortable on the ledge. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that he is dangerously high up.
Az’Lean doesn’t grace him with another word and opts to take a seat as well.
As for you, as long as you’re on the balcony, there’s a few options for where you could sit.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
[[You need to start looking for opportunities to somehow get a bit of blood from Thianne. Maybe you can somehow get her to cut herself on the paper of her book?|Chapter8B12A]]<<else>>
[[You decide to sit next to Thianne.|Chapter8B12A]]
[[You decide to sit next to Az’Lean.|Chapter8B12B]]
[[You decide to sit in the very back where Vynn is standing.|Chapter8B12C]]
[[You decide to sit at the very edge, next to the ledge Lester is on.|Chapter8B12D]]
<<endif>>\You ultimately decide against buying the instrument. It wouldn’t be a great present if it turned out that no one even knew how to tune it or play it, and you yourself don’t have much musical expertise either. For all you know this could be junk and this old man is trying to rip you off.
“Sorry, no deal,” you say. “Though it is an interesting find.”
“Got it from a ship from the East,” he grumbled. “Are you going to buy anything else?”
After a bit of consideration, you figure it would probably be better to save shopping for when you have more time. You are supposed to be watching Az’Lean, after all, not haggling with merchants.
“Not for right now, no. Maybe I’ll be back some other time.”
The old man heaves a sigh, but nods. “Then have a nice day, and do come back, will ya?”
You do your best to memorise where exactly this stall is located, though it’s difficult with all the visual noise surrounding it. There won’t be a guarantee you’ll be able to come back here again, though you wouldn’t mind if the opportunity arose.
“I’ll try. Thank you for your time,” you say and bid the man farewell.
It’s been a minute so you look back over at Az’Lean and his father, though they still seem to be occupied. You probably shouldn’t buy anything else, but you could go get a tarot reading of your own. Alternatively, you could just head back to them now.
<<if $tarot is not 1>>
[[You decide to get a tarot card reading. (15 min)|Chapter8Tarot]]
<<else>>
<<if $route == 1>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8A7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8B7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8C7]]<<endif>>\
<<endif>>The woman shuffles the cards one final time before spreading them out in front of you. “Choose two cards. The first will indicate what you are currently lacking in order to obtain fulfilment, and the second will help you understand how to get it.”
You pick out two random cards. Anticipation builds within you as she slowly flips the first card around.
<<if $humanity > 50>>
“Justice, in the reversed position.”
The card shows a sword on which a pair of scales is balanced. The card is upside down, so it looks like the sword is pointed at you.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that you aren’t being fair with yourself. You either judge yourself too harshly, or not harshly enough. The answers you seek aren’t in the place you are looking. What is it that you are pointing your sword at? There’s a part of you that’s deceiving yourself. There’s something you’re blind to.”
It seems further interpretation is up to you.
“The second card is… The Hanged Man, in the upright position.”
The card shows a man, hanged from a wooden beam by his foot. His position looks awkward, and yet he doesn’t seem to be struggling.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that a certain willing sacrifice is needed. There is something you must abandon, something you must let go in order to find peace. Whatever it is is keeping you in place, weighing you down. Only through releasing it will you be able to find fulfilment.”
It seems that once again, further interpretation is up to you. Justice reversed and The Hanged Man. You have a few ideas what they could be hinting at…
<<else>>
“The Hermit, in the reversed position.”
The card shows a lone wanderer. Their face is obscured by a hood and they only have the light of a lantern guiding them. The card is upside down, which makes them truly look lost.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that you are struggling to find your way. You are lost, in some sense of the word. Even though you are surrounded by people, there’s something isolating you from them. You don’t see eye to eye - you can’t. Where is it you’re headed? You can’t expect anyone else to show you the way.”
It seems further interpretation is up to you.
“The second card is… The Lovers, in the upright position.”
The card shows two people holding hands. A heart hangs over their heads and they seem to be lost in each other’s eyes.
The woman continues: “This card indicates that harmony is needed for you to find your answers. Harmony between you and others, yes, but also harmony between two conflicting parts of yourself. There is duality in your life and the world, but it must be reconciled, one way or the other. Whatever it is you’re struggling with, you’ll need the help of someone else.”
It seems that once again, further interpretation is up to you. The Hermit reversed and The Lovers. You have a few ideas what they could be hinting at…
<<endif>>\
“Thank you. You have given me a lot to think about,” you say as you pay the woman for her services.
“I have done nothing. It is the cards that allow us to figure these things out for ourselves,” she says and leaves it at that.
It’s been a minute so you look back over at Az’Lean and his father, though they still seem to be occupied. You probably could spend a few more minutes looking around at all of the stalls. Alternatively, you could just head back to them now.
<<if $shop1 == "yes">>
<<if $route == 1>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8A7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8B7]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>[[You decide that you’ve killed enough time already and join back up with Az’Lean and the king.|Chapter8C7]]<<endif>>\
<<else>>
[[You decide to look at some things on sale. (15 min)|Chapter8Shop]]
<<endif>>
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne looks up from her book as you sit down and grants you an acknowledging nod. A glance at the cover reveals that she is in fact reading the story on which the upcoming play is based: The Dreaming Knight.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“Are you interested to see how they will choose to adapt it?” you ask Thianne.
She places a mark in her book and closes. “Yes. I know the story, but I wanted to compare them a bit more closely, so I started readin’. Though I don’t think I’ll have time to finish it. It looks like it’s about to start.”
Thianne is right. The narrator has taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Thianne snorts. It’s funny that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“I’m interested to see how they’ll convey the dream world,” she whispers to you.
As it turns out, they mostly use coloured light and colourful, sparkling cloth hanging from the rafters. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
“Thoughts?” you ask.
Thianne crosses her arms. “It’s not bad, but I think it’s too dramatic. The point is that she can’t tell which world is real anymore. Obviously the purple fog isn’t the most realistic occurrence.”
You give it some thought. “Maybe they could’ve used mirrors. Have everything look real, but flipped - you know?”
Your suggestion makes Thianne’s amber eyes shine with approval. “That’s a great way to do it. It’s subtle, and throughout the play, the audience might lose track of which way everything was facing in the beginning as well.”
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
“I enjoyed that,” Thianne says, running a hand along the book's cover. “It is a well-written story in the first place and they did a fine job capturin’ that.”
“Are you usually fond of stories like this one?” you ask. It is a bit surprising to see Thianne so invested in something as simple as this.
“I don’t just read non-fiction, $playername. I like books that examine a character’s psychology, and how that can break down. As much as magic is my area of expertise, the mind is just as fascinating - and even more unknowable.”
“Do you think it’s realistic that the knight lost track of which was the real world?”
Thianne shrugs. “Some people can convince themselves of anything. It’s exceptional, which is why it’s worth writin’ a story about, but it’s not too absurd.”
Right. Now if the knight was also a changeling, <i>that</i> would be too much. You keep the quip to yourself, but Thianne’s lips quirk into a smile as if she knew what you were thinking anyway.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8A13]]
<<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
You and Az’Lean make yourselves comfortable in the middle of the balcony. “The play that’s about to start is called <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>. I hear it’s based on a popular book,” Az’Lean says as he leans forward in his seat to get a better view.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“You haven’t read it before?” you ask Az’Lean.
He shakes his head. “It seemed like the type of story that would keep me up at night, though maybe I’m imagining it to be different than it actually is. Is it as terrifying as the premise makes it sound?”
“It’s not really scary, but it can be a bit unsettling. Though I suppose you’ll see for yourself, it looks like it’s about to start.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Az’Lean makes a noise of confusion. It is strange that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“I can already see the absurdity. No wonder she has such strange dreams, sleeping in her armour like that,” Az’Lean whispers quietly to himself.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
“Your opinion thus far?” you ask.
Az’Lean leans back in his seat. “I am already dreading when all of this will come crashing down around her. Obviously it’s too good to be true, but she isn’t cautious at all. It can only end in tragedy.”
You glance at his expression. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself, though his eyes are locked on the stage - intently. At least he seems to be immersed. It’s not going to go as horribly as he’s imagining, you’re pretty sure, but the sense of existential dread that slowly creeps up the longer the play goes on is indeed pervasive.
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
Az’Lean’s face is expressionless, but he’s applauding with a considerable amount of fervour. “That was upsetting, but in a cathartic sort of way,” he says, finally prying his eyes from the stage. “It’s a good story, though I expected a different sort of ending.”
“And what’s that?” you ask.
“I was beginning to think that possibly both worlds were real, and she had simply discovered a way to travel freely between them. The story never confirmed that, so I have to assume that’s not the correct interpretation. Either way, her choice to leave the dream world behind entirely felt a bit forced. She could’ve kept visiting, from time to time.”
“I think the idea is that living in both worlds was getting too much for her, so she had to pick one. It makes sense that she’d stay in the world she knew from the start.”
Az’Lean stares at you. “You don’t say…”
“What? Do you disagree?” you ask, confused by the way he’s looking at you. He seems almost amused all of a sudden.
“Not particularly. Though if it were me in that situation, I wouldn’t be able to accept either world that easily. If entire worlds, people within them, and relationships with those people can just be made up, how can we be sure anything is real at all? Like I said earlier, it’s terrifying, and the ending acts like everything will turn out well because she made a difficult decision. What if it was the wrong one?”
“I suppose the point is that one can never know. Ignorance is bliss and all that,” you say with a shrug.
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “That I can agree with.”
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8A13]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
You sit down in the back and Vynn leans against the wall next to you. “While I don’t love having to be on duty, I am glad that I get to watch this. They’re about to perform <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>.”
“You love that story, don’t you?”
“What can I say, it’s a classic for a reason,” Vynn says with an excited smile.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“Do you think they composed original music for it?” you ask. There’s a lot that goes into adapting a book into a play, after all, and you would be kind of disappointed if the staging and costumes weren’t special somehow.
“That’d be nice. I’ll say as long as the actors are able to convey the complex emotions properly, that’s the most important thing for me,” Vynn says. “If the rest is minimalistic I don’t mind.”
“I wonder how they’ll portray the dream world.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Vynn snorts loudly. It is strange that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“Maybe I can use my expertise as a knight to instruct this play’s director on how miserable it is to sleep in a full set of armour. Then all my training wouldn’t have been a waste, after all,” they whisper to you. You masterfully stifle a laugh in response.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
“I like the look of this,” you say, leaning back in your seat.
“The actress playing the knight is excellent,” Vynn says. “Did you see the tension in her shoulders the whole time she was in the dream world? Even though nothing concerning has happened yet, you can practically feel the slowly building dread.”
You glance at Vynn’s expression. Their eyes are bright with joy, and you find it almost amusing how much they are looking forward to seeing this character’s inner turmoil brought to life on stage.
“Do you think her performance should lean into the melodrama or remain more realistic?” you ask.
Vynn considers your question. “As much as I enjoy all things over the top, I hope it’s subtle. The point of the story is doubting yourself, your own perception, and still having to make choices based on that. A lot should be left up to interpretation, not forced down the audience’s throat.”
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
“That was great,” Vynn says, applauding along with everyone else, a satisfied smile on their face. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
You join in the applause. Truthfully, you think the book is a little better, simply for the fact that you can truly delve into the main character’s headspace. “For a moment I thought they might change the ending and have her stay in the dream world.”
“That would’ve been an interesting twist,” Vynn agrees. “I’m glad they remained faithful to the original story, but that would’ve been worth exploring. I think a case could be made for choosing to stay in the dream world. Does it matter if it’s real? Not really. There’s no way of knowing in the first place.”
“What would you have chosen in her place?” you ask.
Vynn lets out a sigh. “I would’ve abandoned the dream world as well, probably.”
“Really?”
“As nice as the people of the dream world were, she only knew them for a few weeks. I wouldn’t abandon you for someone I met yesterday,” they say with a shrug.
You aren’t quite certain how to respond, so you simply nudge Vynn with your shoulder. They nudge you right back.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8A13]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
You sit down close to the edge of the balcony. Lester takes notice of it and angles himself so that he can more easily talk to you. “I heard they’re going to perform the play <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>”, he says with a sigh.
“You don’t like it?” you ask.
“I hate it with a passion, actually.”
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
You didn’t think it was that bad of a story, but then again, you’ve never seen it performed as a play.
“Care to tell me why?”
Lester makes a face of distaste. “It’s just so weirdly pretentious. Like it’s trying to be philosophical in a way that doesn’t matter. It’s like those thought experiments - would you save person A or person B? It’s always so simplistic. Life isn’t like that. There’s context, many conflicting interests and points of view, always new ideas or possibilities left unconsidered.”
“So I take it you don’t like that a binary choice is forced upon the knight for the sake of creating conflict?” You ponder it for a moment. “I suppose I can understand that, although all stories are limited in some way and can’t ever explore every possible angle of the subject they’re dealing with.”
“Then maybe those stories shouldn’t pretend like that’s what they’re doing. Like I said - pretentious.” Lester’s expression relaxes somewhat, almost apologetically. “But let’s watch it for what it’s worth. I’m sure the acting and the stage design will be entertaining at least.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
You can't help but scoff. "Is she really going to sleep in a full suit of armour?"
Lester barely manages to stifle a laugh.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
You glance at Lester's expression - despite his earlier criticisms, he seems to be getting immersed in the performance well enough.
Lester catches you looking at him and shoots you a grin. “Maybe they should just turn it into a musical!”
“I wouldn’t even mind that, to be honest,” you say. “Would that make it more or less pretentious for you?”
“It would be so much more pretentious that it cancels out,” he whispers.
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence - disappointingly, it does not turn into a musical. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
Lester has taken to stretching instead of clapping. "I suppose it wasn't too bad. It's bittersweet and emotional and all that. I might just be too cynical to enjoy stories like this one."
“Isn’t it the opposite?”
Lester turns to look at you, his green eyes wide in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I think it’s not because you’re too cynical, I think it’s because you’re too hopeful. You would’ve liked her to figure out the truth about the dream world and find some way to either keep visiting it, or bring her new friends with, or something like that. Right? You were disappointed that the story didn’t explore the dilemma properly because you had hope for a better ending than the one she got.”
“You make me sound like some kind of idealist.”
“I wouldn’t say that necessarily, just that you have high expectations.” You shrug. “That’s not a bad thing. In fact, I’m glad that you feel that strongly even about a simple story like this and felt that you could share that opinion with me.”
Lester stares at you in bewilderment before slowly averting his gaze. “Then I guess I’m glad that you’re glad.”
You can’t stop yourself from smiling but decide not to tease him over his reaction.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8A13]]A few minutes later King Az’Marn joins everyone on the balcony - you don’t think you have ever seen Lester make himself scarce as quickly as right now. A few knights are with him, among them Lady Westwale and Chev Minne.
After greeting his father, Az’Lean comes up to you and informs you that you have some free time for yourself, now that there’s an entire group of knights around.
“Maybe get back here before lunch. Or, better yet, why don’t you bring something to eat with you?” Az’Lean suggests.
There are about two hours until lunch, and it seems it is up to you to decide how to spend that time. <<set $time to 120>>
[[You decide to stay here and watch some more shows and performances. (120 min)|Chapter8Theatre1]]
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<if $shop1 == "yes">>[[You could do some more shopping, now that you have more time than yesterday. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]
<<else>>
[[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]
<<endif>>
[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]]
[[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]]
[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]A few minutes later King Az’Marn joins everyone on the balcony - you don’t think you have ever seen Lester make himself scarce as quickly as right now. A few knights are with him, among them Lady Westwale and Chev Minne.
After greeting his father, Az’Lean comes up to you and informs you that you don't have to stay here, now that there’s an entire group of knights around.
“Being stuck by my side the entire time must get old,” Az’Lean says with a half-smile. "You should make sure to enjoy the festival as much as you can. Maybe get back here before lunch. Or, better yet, why don’t you bring something to eat with you?”
There are about two hours until lunch, and it seems it is up to you to decide how to spend that time.<<set $time to 120>>
[[You decide to stay here and watch some more shows and performances. You don't mind sticking by Az'Lean's side.(120 min)|Chapter8Theatre1]]
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<if $shop1 == "yes">>[[You could do some more shopping, now that you have more time than yesterday. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]
<<else>>
[[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]
<<endif>>
[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]]
[[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]]
[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]A few minutes later King Az’Marn joins everyone on the balcony - you don’t think you have ever seen Lester make himself scarce as quickly as right now. A few knights are with him, among them Lady Westwale and Chev Minne.
After greeting his father, Az’Lean comes up to you and informs you that you have some free time for yourself, now that there’s an entire group of knights around.
“Maybe get back here before lunch. Or, better yet, why don’t you bring something to eat with you?” Az’Lean suggests.
There are about two hours until lunch, and it seems it is up to you to decide how to spend that time.<<set $time to 120>>
[[You decide to stay here and watch some more shows and performances, despite what Az'Lean said. (120 min)|Chapter8Theatre1]]
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<if $shop1 == "yes">>[[You could do some more shopping, now that you have more time than yesterday. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]
<<else>>
[[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]
<<endif>>
[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]]
[[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]]
[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]Sometime during the afternoon, you find yourself standing guard outside of a large pavilion in a more quiet part of the town. Az’Lean is inside, discussing details about some of the shrines that will be open tomorrow. While sermons will be held on the main stage as well, separate shrines for all of the Goddesses and Gods have been erected around town, encouraging people to visit them by taking the scenic route through Gaitanis.
Not only will it help disperse the masses a little bit, it will also evoke a sense of pilgrimage and serve to show off various sights at the same time. A lot of the shrines are near the rivers, historic buildings or open plazas. Vendors have taken note of this layout and are planning to move their stalls accordingly - one more thing Az’Lean has to take into account, so you figure this impromptu meeting might take a while.
You don't mind standing guard out here. On your way here you bought a roasted vegetable skewer, so you’re content with simply snacking and watching people pass by. You can faintly hear the songs being played on the marketplace even here, mixed with chattering coming from all corners of the city. The sun is shining brightly, but there’s a slight breeze so it doesn’t feel too hot.
Just as you eat the last bite of your skewer, an old woman catches your eye. You can immediately tell that she’s half-fae by the way a single butterfly-like wing is hanging limply from her back, clearly atrophied from lack of use. Her eyes are pitch black so you can’t tell where she’s looking, but she seems to be struggling to find her way through the streets. Her dress is dragging on the cobblestone and her steps seem a bit unsteady.
[[You keep watching her. Maybe she’ll be fine on her own.|Chapter8A15A]]
[[“Do you need any help?” you call out to her.|Chapter8A15B]]
[[You avert your gaze. It’s your job to stand guard, not to help random visitors.|Chapter8A15C]]
[[You leave your post and approach her with the intent to offer her your assistance, should she need it.|Chapter8A15D]]
<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
At first, she doesn’t react to your call. Either she’s lost in thought or can’t hear you. A bit awkwardly you clear your throat and call out to her a second time. This time she startles and turns to look at you, eyes wide in shock.
“Are you… are you talking to me?” she asks, looking over her shoulder as if there were someone behind her you might have been referring to instead.
You nod. “It looked like you might need help. I apologise if that assumption was wrong.”
“Oh, well, I am a bit lost,” she says, fidgeting with her sleeves as she slowly approaches you.
“Where are you trying to get to?” you ask, glad to hear that it’s not a more serious problem. This you can easily help with - you know your way around Gaitanis well enough.
“I am looking for the Raindrop Inn,” the old half-fae woman says, looking around as if she could spot it from here. “I’m staying there with my friend but I can’t seem to recall how to get there.”
The Raindrop Inn is well known for its size if not for its quality. In truth it is not far from here, though one has to find a bridge to cross the Cassja River to get there from here.
“I know where that is,” you say. “Unfortunately I can’t leave here, otherwise I would show you the way myself. Do you think directions will be enough?”
She slowly shakes her head. “I don’t think I should keep wandering through these streets by myself anymore. I am here with my friend - she’s fully human, so I am usually fine when I am with her. I thought during a large festival like this there would be more half-fae around. I thought it would be fine, but now I’m not so sure anymore. If you hadn’t offered to help me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
“I- I understand not wanting to ask random people for directions, sad as that is to say.”
She nods. “It feels stupid, but I’d rather be lost than a bother. I know people are uncomfortable enough around me without me coming up to talk to them.”
You pause, unsure what to say. Spouting empty reassurances might just make things worse - chances are a number of people here would treat her unkindly. Maybe the only thing you can do is make sure she gets back to her friend and leave the rest to her.
“I understand. I’m sorry Gaitanis has been so… unwelcoming,” you say. “How about we sit down for a bit? Maybe I could show you the way once I’m off duty? Or maybe your friend will come find you?”
[[A small, wobbly smile finds its way onto her face as you return to your post with her in tow and sit down on a nearby bench.|Chapter8.17]]
You watch as she wanders forward, turns around and then walks back the way she came. She seems to be looking for someone or something, without much success. A few times she seems to look at you, almost questioningly. Maybe she’s wondering whether it would be safe for her to approach you, maybe she’s wondering why you keep looking at her.
She continues walking in circles. A few times her feet get caught on uneven stones and she nearly stumbles. If this goes on, she might actually fall, or someone might bump into her. More than a few people are already throwing her dirty looks.
[[“Do you need any help?” you call out to her.|Chapter8A15B]]
[[You avert your gaze. It’s your job to stand guard, not to help random visitors.|Chapter8A15C]]
[[You leave your post and approach her with the intent to offer her your assistance, should she need it.|Chapter8A15D]]
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne looks up from her book as you sit down and grants you an acknowledging nod. A glance at the cover reveals that she is in fact reading the story on which the upcoming play is based: The Dreaming Knight.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
You wonder whether just nudging Thianne would be enough to make her cut herself on the edge of the paper, though you somehow doubt it. However else are you supposed to make this happen, though? It's not like you can just attack her. No, now isn't the right time to be getting her blood. But then, when?
You banish those thoughts for now, trying to remain casual.
<<endif>>
“Are you interested to see how they will choose to adapt it?” you ask Thianne.
She places a mark in her book and closes. “Yes. I know the story, but I wanted to compare them a bit more closely, so I started readin’. Though I don’t think I’ll have time to finish it. It looks like it’s about to start.”
Thianne is right. The narrator has taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Thianne snorts. It’s funny that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“I’m interested to see how they’ll convey the dream world,” she whispers to you.
As it turns out, they mostly use coloured light and colourful, sparkling cloth hanging from the rafters. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
“Thoughts?” you ask.
Thianne crosses her arms. “It’s not bad, but I think it’s too dramatic. The point is that she can’t tell which world is real anymore. Obviously the purple fog isn’t the most realistic occurrence.”
You give it some thought. “Maybe they could’ve used mirrors. Have everything look real, but flipped - you know?”
Your suggestion makes Thianne’s amber eyes shine with approval. “That’s a great way to do it. It’s subtle, and throughout the play, the audience might lose track of which way everything was facing in the beginning as well.”
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
“I enjoyed that,” Thianne says, running a hand along the book's cover. “It is a well-written story in the first place and they did a fine job capturin’ that.”
“Are you usually fond of stories like this one?” you ask. It is a bit surprising to see Thianne so invested in something as simple as this.
“I don’t just read non-fiction, $playername. I like books that examine a character’s psychology, and how that can break down. As much as magic is my area of expertise, the mind is just as fascinating - and even more unknowable.”
“Do you think it’s realistic that the knight lost track of which was the real world?”
Thianne shrugs. “Some people can convince themselves of anything. It’s exceptional, which is why it’s worth writin’ a story about, but it’s not too absurd.”
Right. Now if the knight was also a changeling, <i>that</i> would be too much. You keep the quip to yourself, but Thianne’s lips quirk into a smile as if she knew what you were thinking anyway.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8C13]]<<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
You and Az’Lean make yourselves comfortable in the middle of the balcony. “The play that’s about to start is called <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>. I hear it’s based on a popular book,” Az’Lean says as he leans forward in his seat to get a better view.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“You haven’t read it before?” you ask Az’Lean.
He shakes his head. “It seemed like the type of story that would keep me up at night, though maybe I’m imagining it to be different than it actually is. Is it as terrifying as the premise makes it sound?”
“It’s not really scary, but it can be a bit unsettling. Though I suppose you’ll see for yourself, it looks like it’s about to start.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Az’Lean makes a noise of confusion. It is strange that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“I can already see the absurdity. No wonder she has such strange dreams, sleeping in her armour like that,” Az’Lean whispers quietly to himself.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
“Your opinion thus far?” you ask.
Az’Lean leans back in his seat. “I am already dreading when all of this will come crashing down around her. Obviously it’s too good to be true, but she isn’t cautious at all. It can only end in tragedy.”
You glance at his expression. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself, though his eyes are locked on the stage - intently. At least he seems to be immersed. It’s not going to go as horribly as he’s imagining, you’re pretty sure, but the sense of existential dread that slowly creeps up the longer the play goes on is indeed pervasive.
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
Az’Lean’s face is expressionless, but he’s applauding with a considerable amount of fervour. “That was upsetting, but in a cathartic sort of way,” he says, finally prying his eyes from the stage. “It’s a good story, though I expected a different sort of ending.”
“And what’s that?” you ask.
“I was beginning to think that possibly both worlds were real, and she had simply discovered a way to travel freely between them. The story never confirmed that, so I have to assume that’s not the correct interpretation. Either way, her choice to leave the dream world behind entirely felt a bit forced. She could’ve kept visiting, from time to time.”
“I think the idea is that living in both worlds was getting too much for her, so she had to pick one. It makes sense that she’d stay in the world she knew from the start.”
Az’Lean stares at you. “That doesn't make sense to me at all.”
“Really? You disagree?” you ask, intrigued by the turn this conversation has taken. "Do you think she should have continued living two separate lives in two separate worlds?"
“Not particularly. Though if it were me in that situation, I wouldn’t be able to accept either world that easily. If entire worlds, people within them, and relationships with those people can just be made up, how can we be sure anything is real at all? Like I said earlier, it’s terrifying, and the ending acts like everything will turn out well because she made a difficult decision. What if it was the wrong one?”
“I suppose the point is that one can never know. Ignorance is bliss and all that,” you say with a shrug.
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “That I can agree with.”
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8C13]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
You sit down in the back and Vynn leans against the wall next to you. “While I don’t love having to be on duty, I am glad that I get to watch this. They’re about to perform <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>.”
“You love that story, don’t you?”
“What can I say, it’s a classic for a reason,” Vynn says with an excited smile.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“Do you think they composed original music for it?” you ask. There’s a lot that goes into adapting a book into a play, after all, and you would be kind of disappointed if the staging and costumes weren’t special somehow.
“That’d be nice. I’ll say as long as the actors are able to convey the complex emotions properly, that’s the most important thing for me,” Vynn says. “If the rest is minimalistic I don’t mind.”
“I wonder how they’ll portray the dream world.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Vynn snorts loudly. It is strange that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“Maybe I can use my expertise as a knight to instruct this play’s director on how miserable it is to sleep in a full set of armour. Then all my training wouldn’t have been a waste, after all,” they whisper to you. You masterfully stifle a laugh in response.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
“I like the look of this,” you say, leaning back in your seat.
“The actress playing the knight is excellent,” Vynn says. “Did you see the tension in her shoulders the whole time she was in the dream world? Even though nothing concerning has happened yet, you can practically feel the slowly building dread.”
You glance at Vynn’s expression. Their eyes are bright with joy, and you find it almost amusing how much they are looking forward to seeing this character’s inner turmoil brought to life on stage.
“Do you think her performance should lean into the melodrama or remain more realistic?” you ask.
Vynn considers your question. “As much as I enjoy all things over the top, I hope it’s subtle. The point of the story is doubting yourself, your own perception, and still having to make choices based on that. A lot should be left up to interpretation, not forced down the audience’s throat.”
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
“That was great,” Vynn says, applauding along with everyone else, a satisfied smile on their face. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
You join in the applause. Truthfully, you think the book is a little better, simply for the fact that you can truly delve into the main character’s headspace. “For a moment I thought they might change the ending and have her stay in the dream world.”
“That would’ve been an interesting twist,” Vynn agrees. “I’m glad they remained faithful to the original story, but that would’ve been worth exploring. I think a case could be made for choosing to stay in the dream world. Does it matter if it’s real? Not really. There’s no way of knowing in the first place.”
“What would you have chosen in her place?” you ask.
Vynn lets out a sigh. “I would’ve abandoned the dream world as well, probably.”
“Really?”
“As nice as the people of the dream world were, she only knew them for a few weeks. I wouldn’t abandon you for someone I met yesterday,” they say with a shrug.
You aren’t quite certain how to respond, so you simply nudge Vynn with your shoulder. They nudge you right back.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8C13]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
You sit down close to the edge of the balcony. Lester takes notice of it and angles himself so that he can more easily talk to you. “I heard they’re going to perform the play <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>”, he says with a sigh.
“You don’t like it?” you ask.
“I hate it with a passion, actually.”
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
You didn’t think it was that bad of a story, but then again, you’ve never seen it performed as a play.
“Care to tell me why?”
Lester makes a face of distaste. “It’s just so weirdly pretentious. Like it’s trying to be philosophical in a way that doesn’t matter. It’s like those thought experiments - would you save person A or person B? It’s always so simplistic. Life isn’t like that. There’s context, many conflicting interests and points of view, always new ideas or possibilities left unconsidered.”
“So I take it you don’t like that a binary choice is forced upon the knight for the sake of creating conflict?” You ponder it for a moment. “I suppose I can understand that, although all stories are limited in some way and can’t ever explore every possible angle of the subject they’re dealing with.”
“Then maybe those stories shouldn’t pretend like that’s what they’re doing. Like I said - pretentious.” Lester’s expression relaxes somewhat, almost apologetically. “But let’s watch it for what it’s worth. I’m sure the acting and the stage design will be entertaining at least.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
You can't help but scoff. "Is she really going to sleep in a full suit of armour?"
Lester barely manages to stifle a laugh.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
You glance at Lester's expression - despite his earlier criticisms, he seems to be getting immersed in the performance well enough.
Lester catches you looking at him and shoots you a grin. “Maybe they should just turn it into a musical!”
“I wouldn’t even mind that, to be honest,” you say. “Would that make it more or less pretentious for you?”
“It would be so much more pretentious that it cancels out,” he whispers.
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence - disappointingly, it does not turn into a musical. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
Lester has taken to stretching instead of clapping. "I suppose it wasn't too bad. It's bittersweet and emotional and all that. I might just be too cynical to enjoy stories like this one."
“Isn’t it the opposite?”
Lester turns to look at you, his green eyes wide in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I think it’s not because you’re too cynical, I think it’s because you’re too hopeful. You would’ve liked her to figure out the truth about the dream world and find some way to either keep visiting it, or bring her new friends with, or something like that. Right? You were disappointed that the story didn’t explore the dilemma properly because you had hope for a better ending than the one she got.”
“You make me sound like some kind of idealist.”
“I wouldn’t say that necessarily, just that you have high expectations.” You shrug. “That’s not a bad thing. In fact, I’m glad that you feel that strongly even about a simple story like this and felt that you could share that opinion with me.”
Lester stares at you in bewilderment before slowly averting his gaze. “Then I guess I’m glad that you’re glad.”
You can’t stop yourself from smiling but decide not to tease him over his reaction.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8C13]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne looks up from her book as you sit down and grants you an acknowledging nod. A glance at the cover reveals that she is in fact reading the story on which the upcoming play is based: The Dreaming Knight.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
You wonder whether just nudging Thianne would be enough to make her cut herself on the edge of the paper, though you somehow doubt it. However else are you supposed to make this happen, though? It's not like you can just attack her. No, now isn't the right time to be getting her blood. But then, when?
You banish those thoughts for now, trying to remain casual.
<<endif>>
“Are you interested to see how they will choose to adapt it?” you ask Thianne.
She places a mark in her book and closes. “Yes. I know the story, but I wanted to compare them a bit more closely, so I started readin’. Though I don’t think I’ll have time to finish it. It looks like it’s about to start.”
Thianne is right. The narrator has taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Thianne snorts. It’s funny that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“I’m interested to see how they’ll convey the dream world,” she whispers to you.
As it turns out, they mostly use coloured light and colourful, sparkling cloth hanging from the rafters. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
“Thoughts?” you ask.
Thianne crosses her arms. “It’s not bad, but I think it’s too dramatic. The point is that she can’t tell which world is real anymore. Obviously the purple fog isn’t the most realistic occurrence.”
You give it some thought. “Maybe they could’ve used mirrors. Have everything look real, but flipped - you know?”
Your suggestion makes Thianne’s amber eyes shine with approval. “That’s a great way to do it. It’s subtle, and throughout the play, the audience might lose track of which way everything was facing in the beginning as well.”
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
“I enjoyed that,” Thianne says, running a hand along the book's cover. “It is a well-written story in the first place and they did a fine job capturin’ that.”
“Are you usually fond of stories like this one?” you ask. It is a bit surprising to see Thianne so invested in something as simple as this.
“I don’t just read non-fiction, $playername. I like books that examine a character’s psychology, and how that can break down. As much as magic is my area of expertise, the mind is just as fascinating - and even more unknowable.”
“Do you think it’s realistic that the knight lost track of which was the real world?”
Thianne shrugs. “Some people can convince themselves of anything. It’s exceptional, which is why it’s worth writin’ a story about, but it’s not too absurd.”
Right. Now if the knight was also a changeling, <i>that</i> would be too much. You keep the quip to yourself, but Thianne’s lips quirk into a smile as if she knew what you were thinking anyway.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8B13]]<<set $Az to $Az + 5>>\
You and Az’Lean make yourselves comfortable in the middle of the balcony. “The play that’s about to start is called <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>. I hear it’s based on a popular book,” Az’Lean says as he leans forward in his seat to get a better view.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“You haven’t read it before?” you ask Az’Lean.
He shakes his head. “It seemed like the type of story that would keep me up at night, though maybe I’m imagining it to be different than it actually is. Is it as terrifying as the premise makes it sound?”
“It’s not really scary, but it can be a bit unsettling. Though I suppose you’ll see for yourself, it looks like it’s about to start.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Az’Lean makes a noise of confusion. It is strange that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“I can already see the absurdity. No wonder she has such strange dreams, sleeping in her armour like that,” Az’Lean whispers quietly to himself.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
“Your opinion thus far?” you ask.
Az’Lean leans back in his seat. “I am already dreading when all of this will come crashing down around her. Obviously it’s too good to be true, but she isn’t cautious at all. It can only end in tragedy.”
You glance at his expression. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself, though his eyes are locked on the stage - intently. At least he seems to be immersed. It’s not going to go as horribly as he’s imagining, you’re pretty sure, but the sense of existential dread that slowly creeps up the longer the play goes on is indeed pervasive.
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
Az’Lean’s face is expressionless, but he’s applauding with a considerable amount of fervour. “That was upsetting, but in a cathartic sort of way,” he says, finally prying his eyes from the stage. “It’s a good story, though I expected a different sort of ending.”
“And what’s that?” you ask.
“I was beginning to think that possibly both worlds were real, and she had simply discovered a way to travel freely between them. The story never confirmed that, so I have to assume that’s not the correct interpretation. Either way, her choice to leave the dream world behind entirely felt a bit forced. She could’ve kept visiting, from time to time.”
“I think the idea is that living in both worlds was getting too much for her, so she had to pick one. It makes sense that she’d stay in the world she knew from the start.”
Az’Lean doesn't look too convinced. “Does it make sense?”
“You... You disagree?” you ask, intriqued by the turn this conversation has taken. "You think she should have picked the dream world instead?"
“Not particularly. Though if it were me in that situation, I wouldn’t be able to accept either world that easily. If entire worlds, people within them, and relationships with those people can just be made up, how can we be sure anything is real at all? Like I said earlier, it’s terrifying, and the ending acts like everything will turn out well because she made a difficult decision. What if it was the wrong one?”
“I suppose the point is that one can never know. Ignorance is bliss and all that,” you say with a shrug.
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “That I can agree with.”
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8B13]]<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 5>>\
You sit down in the back and Vynn leans against the wall next to you. “While I don’t love having to be on duty, I am glad that I get to watch this. They’re about to perform <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>.”
“You love that story, don’t you?”
“What can I say, it’s a classic for a reason,” Vynn says with an excited smile.
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
“Do you think they composed original music for it?” you ask. There’s a lot that goes into adapting a book into a play, after all, and you would be kind of disappointed if the staging and costumes weren’t special somehow.
“That’d be nice. I’ll say as long as the actors are able to convey the complex emotions properly, that’s the most important thing for me,” Vynn says. “If the rest is minimalistic I don’t mind.”
“I wonder how they’ll portray the dream world.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
Vynn snorts loudly. It is strange that she’s wearing her armour to bed, but you suppose the audience wouldn’t know that she’s a knight, otherwise.
“Maybe I can use my expertise as a knight to instruct this play’s director on how miserable it is to sleep in a full set of armour. Then all my training wouldn’t have been a waste, after all,” they whisper to you. You masterfully stifle a laugh in response.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
“I like the look of this,” you say, leaning back in your seat.
“The actress playing the knight is excellent,” Vynn says. “Did you see the tension in her shoulders the whole time she was in the dream world? Even though nothing concerning has happened yet, you can practically feel the slowly building dread.”
You glance at Vynn’s expression. Their eyes are bright with joy, and you find it almost amusing how much they are looking forward to seeing this character’s inner turmoil brought to life on stage.
“Do you think her performance should lean into the melodrama or remain more realistic?” you ask.
Vynn considers your question. “As much as I enjoy all things over the top, I hope it’s subtle. The point of the story is doubting yourself, your own perception, and still having to make choices based on that. A lot should be left up to interpretation, not forced down the audience’s throat.”
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
“That was great,” Vynn says, applauding along with everyone else, a satisfied smile on their face. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
You join in the applause. Truthfully, you think the book is a little better, simply for the fact that you can truly delve into the main character’s headspace. “For a moment I thought they might change the ending and have her stay in the dream world.”
“That would’ve been an interesting twist,” Vynn agrees. “I’m glad they remained faithful to the original story, but that would’ve been worth exploring. I think a case could be made for choosing to stay in the dream world. Does it matter if it’s real? Not really. There’s no way of knowing in the first place.”
“What would you have chosen in her place?” you ask.
Vynn lets out a sigh. “I would’ve abandoned the dream world as well, probably.”
“Really?”
“As nice as the people of the dream world were, she only knew them for a few weeks. I wouldn’t abandon you for someone I met yesterday,” they say with a shrug.
You aren’t quite certain how to respond, so you simply nudge Vynn with your shoulder. They nudge you right back.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8B13]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 5>>\
You sit down close to the edge of the balcony. Lester takes notice of it and angles himself so that he can more easily talk to you. “I heard they’re going to perform the play <i>The Dreaming Knight</i>”, he says with a sigh.
“You don’t like it?” you ask.
“I hate it with a passion, actually.”
You’ve read it before, some time ago. It tells the fictional story of a knight who was transported into a different world every time she went to sleep. You’re hazy on the details, but you remember that at some point, she struggles to tell which world is the dream, and which one is reality. It ends on a bittersweet note when she has to choose one of the two worlds. She ends up picking reality, leaving the friends she made in her dream behind forever.
You didn’t think it was that bad of a story, but then again, you’ve never seen it performed as a play.
“Care to tell me why?”
Lester makes a face of distaste. “It’s just so weirdly pretentious. Like it’s trying to be philosophical in a way that doesn’t matter. It’s like those thought experiments - would you save person A or person B? It’s always so simplistic. Life isn’t like that. There’s context, many conflicting interests and points of view, always new ideas or possibilities left unconsidered.”
“So I take it you don’t like that a binary choice is forced upon the knight for the sake of creating conflict?” You ponder it for a moment. “I suppose I can understand that, although all stories are limited in some way and can’t ever explore every possible angle of the subject they’re dealing with.”
“Then maybe those stories shouldn’t pretend like that’s what they’re doing. Like I said - pretentious.” Lester’s expression relaxes somewhat, almost apologetically. “But let’s watch it for what it’s worth. I’m sure the acting and the stage design will be entertaining at least.”
The narrator has already taken the stage and is asking the audience to please quiet down. Moments later, he describes the setting - the barracks at night. A bed has been placed on the stage, and a woman dressed in extravagant armour makes a show of laying down, monologuing about wanting to finally get some rest.
You can't help but scoff. "Is she really going to sleep in a full suit of armour?"
Lester barely manages to stifle a laugh.
The dream world is represented by using coloured light and hanging sparkling cloth from the rafters of the stage. Occasionally, puffs of purple smoke emerge from below the stage, much to the delight of the children.
Joyful music plays as the knight explores this strange setting, meets new people and becomes quick friends with them.
You glance at Lester's expression - despite his earlier criticisms, he seems to be getting immersed in the performance well enough.
Lester catches you looking at him and shoots you a grin. “Maybe they should just turn it into a musical!”
“I wouldn’t even mind that, to be honest,” you say. “Would that make it more or less pretentious for you?”
“It would be so much more pretentious that it cancels out,” he whispers.
You continue to watch the rest of the play in silence - disappointingly, it does not turn into a musical. The plot is simple, but the actors do a phenomenal job of conveying the emotions of getting lost in a fantasy - and having to say goodbye to it. The expression on the knight’s face when she begins to doubt her ability to tell real and fake apart is particularly haunting.
By the end of the play, a few people are crying and everyone else is applauding with enthusiasm.
Lester has taken to stretching instead of clapping. "I suppose it wasn't too bad. It's bittersweet and emotional and all that. I might just be too cynical to enjoy stories like this one."
“Isn’t it the opposite?”
Lester turns to look at you, his green eyes wide in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I think it’s not because you’re too cynical, I think it’s because you’re too hopeful. You would’ve liked her to figure out the truth about the dream world and find some way to either keep visiting it, or bring her new friends with, or something like that. Right? You were disappointed that the story didn’t explore the dilemma properly because you had hope for a better ending than the one she got.”
“You make me sound like some kind of idealist.”
“I wouldn’t say that necessarily, just that you have high expectations.” You shrug. “That’s not a bad thing. In fact, I’m glad that you feel that strongly even about a simple story like this and felt that you could share that opinion with me. Also, you are absolutely an idealist, how is that even a question?”
Lester stares at you in bewilderment before slowly averting his gaze. “Then I guess I’m glad that you’re glad.”
You can’t stop yourself from smiling but decide not to tease him over his reaction.
[[The two of you silently watch the curtain call together.|Chapter8B13]]You didn't get around to it yesterday, so why not do it now?
<<set $portrait to "yes">>
It might take some time and you’ll have to sit still for the duration of it, but a part of you is fascinated by the idea of having a portrait of yourself. For one, it might be nice to capture the moment - to have something to remember your youth by. More importantly, however, you want to get proof of what you look like.
What if something happens to you and you lose this appearance? Recreating it from memory is all well and good, but having something tangible that depicts you as you are now seems invaluable to you. Then there’s the aspect of the artist’s touch. How does she see you? The portrait will not only be a reflection of your appearance, but also of who you are as a person. She’ll likely decide to draw the Champion regal and intimidating, or maybe she’ll see something else when she looks at you.
Hopefully you’ll like what you see once she is done.
The artist is a woman with large, bright eyes and a faraway look. She instructs you to take a seat on a small wooden stool, and you position yourself so that you can keep an eye on the street so you have something to watch.
“Try to relax and assume a comfortable, natural posture,” the artists says as she begins to sharpen her graphite pencil.
You take a deep breath and will your shoulders to loosen. For a while, you watch the people passing by, listening to the rhythmic scratch of her pencil. Next to the fortune teller, a group of young children are playing with a ball that bounces all over the place, nearly knocking the hat off of a nearby vendor. You hold your breath to stop yourself from chuckling, though you worry that your expression might have betrayed you anyways.
Every once in a while, you glance over at the artist. She seems to be entirely consumed by her work, neither talking nor looking anywhere other than the paper in front of her or you.
Just as you begin to think that maybe this would take longer than you have time for, the artist stops drawing and lets out a long breath.
“I am mostly finished,” she says. “I want to get your opinion on it before I add the final touches.”
With anticipation, you get up from your stool and look over her shoulder at the mostly finished portrait.
It is a fairly accurate portrayal of you in a realistic style - even the texture of the collar of your shirt looks life-like. What truly fascinates you are the subtleties in your expression and the minute details of your face that you might notice when looking in a mirror but never really paid much attention to.
First, there’s your eyes. Since there are no colours, they don’t look $eyes, but you can spot the tiniest flecks in your irises. Clusters of pigment, reflections of light - the depth of them sucks you in. <<if $humour > 4>>True mirth shines within them, and there are slight creases around your eyes, as though you were smiling in secret.<<else>>There’s a certain tension within them, and your brows are ever so slightly furrowed, as though you were deep in thought.<<endif>>\
Next, the position of your head catches your attention. You thought you were looking straight ahead all this time, but apparently you weren’t, or the artist thought your normal posture wasn’t dynamic enough. <<if $lie > 5>>Interestingly, your head is tilted to the left in this portrait. It looks like you are pondering something - either trying to remember something, or coming up with a lie. You wonder if you make that expression often. <<else>>Interestingly, your head is tilted to the right in this portrait. It looks like you are analysing something - either trying to figure something out, or appreciating whatever you’re looking at. You figure it’s a nice expression, whether you were really making it or not.<<endif>>\
The last thing that sticks out to you is the lighting. It’s the middle of the day and you are sitting out in the sun, so the portrait somewhat reflects that. <<if $stability > 5>> However, you feel like your face looks a little washed-out. It might just be because everything is in shades of grey, but it does remind you of the colour of your skin as a changeling, instead of the $skin skin you’d like to see.<<else>> However, there are some deep shadows with much starker contrast than there should be. At the side of your face, beneath your eyes - small pockets of darkness. You’re not sure whether you like it or not, but it does make you look very dramatic. Almost… tragic.<<endif>>\
“So, what do you think?” the artist asks.
“It’s very impressive. You are incredibly skilled, especially considering the short amount of time you’ve had,” you say.
“Anything you’d like changed?”
“No, I trust that you’ll know better than me what needs to be done before it is finished. I enjoy seeing your vision,” you say.
“Thank you. No need to get back on the stool, there’s just a few things I want to touch up.”
You watch as she works on the shading of your hair for a few more minutes before she declares the piece as good enough to sell to you. You hand her the gold she asks for and she hands you the portrait, rolled up into a scroll and tied together with a bright blue ribbon.
Satisfied with your purchase, you consider what to do next.
<<set $time to $time - 30>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<if $love is not "yes">>[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]<<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\<<set $shop2 to "yes">>
The number of vendors is naturally quite overwhelming. Not only that, but the streets are so crowded that you can barely stop to look at something, and whatever stalls you had seen yesterday seem to have moved somewhere else - likely to share the best spots along the market place among as many different kinds of vendors as possible.
There's not one particular thing you are looking for, so you allow yourself to wander aimlessly for at least a little while. There are a few strange or interesting things you spot in passing.
An elderly couple is selling enchanted leather boots that always hover slightly above the ground when walking in them to prevent them from getting damaged or dirtied. You watch as a young man is trying them out. As it turns out, he has absolutely no friction in those boots and begins slipping all over the place.
On a stall across from that, a woman is selling strangely scented candles. Among them are revolutionary scents such as 'pine tree in the process of burning', 'mixture of honey and rusted copper', and of course 'stone'. The absurdity is almost compelling enough to make a purchase on its own. Almost.
You also spot a person selling dozens of tarot cards with different and entirely unique illustrations. Now that seems like something worth looking at, for the value of the art alone.
One deck is entirely in black and white, painted with thick, glistening ink that makes everything look grim and sinister. Another deck is enchanted so the illustrations move - you are particulalry impressed by the way The Chariot periodically runs laps in the background of the card.
There's also a deck that seems to be antique. The cards are a bit frayed and their colours have lost some of their vibrancy. It takes you a second to realize that the cards of this deck not only depict humans, but fae as well. While The Empress is human, The Emperor is fae. Even The Lovers seem to be a fae woman and a human woman, embracing each other.
A deck like this won't be made in today's climate. There's value to this - historical as well as sentimental, in some ways.
You stare at the cards for a while, even turning them over in your hands. You're not sure what you are looking for until you hold The Fool in your hands and recognise that it shows a changeling, wandering recklessly along a cliff.
You end up buying the deck, though you yourself aren't sure as to why. Simply a whim, you suppose. <<set $cards to "yes">>
Almost as if to distract yourself from the tarot cards, you end up buying something else at the next stall over. An enchanted steel dagger has caught your eye. It looks plain enough, though you recognise the runes carved in its handle. They're an inscription of weightlessness, and sure enough, when you pick up the dagger, you might as well be holding a feather.
You aren't clear on whether that has any sort of tactical advantage when it comes to combat, but it's neat either way. If you don't find any sort of use for it, you figure you can always give it to someone as a present. <<set $dagger to "yes">>
Satisfied with your purchases for now, you consider what to do next.
<<set $time to $time - 30>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<if $love is not "yes">>[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]<<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\<<set $parents to "yes">>
Your parents are overjoyed when you join them on their stroll across the marketplace. They insist on treating you to some sweets at the first opportunity, chosing to buy some exotic candies and honey cakes at the nearest stall. It does make you feel a bit like a kid again when you lick the sticky crumbs off your fingers, but you can't complain. With everything that's been going on, you're not surprised that they're feeling sentimental.
As you slowly make your way through the crowded streets, your father on your left and your mother on your right, you can't help but marvel at the amount of people who stop to greet your father - and not just nobles and knights, either. He hasn't lived in the capital for over two decades and he stopped serving the king when you were still young, yet he seems to have made a lasting impression on the people here. It seems he is beloved not only in his own territory.
Your mother goes unnoticed a lot more, though you're certain she prefers it that way. In fact, she seems exhausted by all the stopping and talking more than anything, though it might just be the heat.
The three of you stop for a while when you come across a group of bards at a street corner. Three of them are playing instruments, while one tells a heroic tale, his words accompanying the rhythm of the music.
“I wonder if I should try telling some stories,” your father muses.
He always loved talking about his time as a knight, his triumphs and adventures. There were certain topics he never touched, certain battles or comrades he refused to mention, but as long as he was able to choose what to talk about, he had fun sharing those stories with you. He loved being a knight, despite how it changed him.
“Why would anyone want to listen to you?” your mother teases him, though there’s a hint of <i>‘No, I mean it. Please don’t.’</i> hidden behind her coy smile.
Your father, of course, either doesn’t see it or chooses to ignore it. As soon as the bard has finished his story, your father steps up, clearing his throat and straightening his back. “Care to listen to the magnificent tales of a veteran?”
The bards immediately indulge him, clearly interested, and a few of the other people who had stopped to watch cheer as soon as your father turns towards them, fist heroically placed over his heart - the very picture of a wizened, dutiful knight, even without being dressed as one.
Your mother, meanwhile, leans against a wall with her arms crossed, resignation etched into her face.
“We could just leave him,” you whisper to her. The genuine chuckle your comment elicits makes you feel oddly proud.
You end up staying, as clearly it is you two who your father wants to impress with his story the most. As he tells the tale of how he and his men stopped the rampage of magic-using bandits across the country side, his eyes keep flicking over to you, wanting to see your reaction. You make sure to gasp and laugh at the right moments, and when he’s finished, you’re applauding the loudest.
“Well, at least all of this experience is good for entertainment,” your father says wryly when the crowd disperses and the bards move on.
“You are quite the fountain of inspiration, dear. Come now, enough standing around,” your mother demands, eager to change the subject. “The sun is scorching and I am positively parched. Let us find a tea house, shall we?”
It is interesting how the three of you seem to be stuck in a perpetual cycle of trying to cheer each other up. Despite everything, it works.
You continue walking around with your parents until they find an establishment that suits your mother’s tastes, at which point you consider if there is anything else you want to do with your free time.
<<set $time to $time - 45>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>\
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $love is not "yes">>[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]<<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\<<set $games to "yes">>
You make your way over to the street that houses a variety of carnival games. It is crawling with children and adults alike, yells of frustration mixed with cheers of triumph as people either win or lose. It's common knowledge that these types of games are all somewhat unfair - how would they make a profit otherwise - but still the promise of prizes to be won is a strong lure.
As you pass by a game that involves throwing darts at targets that have been enchanted to move unpredictable through the air, you spot Sir Asperame and Sir Stahlvart engaged in a fierce competition. Currently, it seems Sir Stahlvart is in the lead. When you come to a halt next to them, he hits another bullseye with his last dart.
“Rematch!” Sir Asperame demands immediately. “And don’t use your illusion magic this time, you rotten cheater.”
Sir Stahlvart smiles brightly. “You said I should give it my all.”
“That did not include the use of magic,” Sir Asperame growls. “Oh, $playername, fancy meeting you here. You aren’t with the prince?”
“He’s with the king right now, so I have some time to myself. Also, I guess I’m supposed to be getting lunch,” you say with a shrug.
“If you’ve some time, care to join us?” Sir Stahlvart asks, gesturing at the darts. “Though apparently, we are not allowed to use magic. I figured I should tell you <i>ahead of time</i>.”
“Sure, why not,” you say as you begin stretching your arms. “What are the stakes?”
“The winner gets all of the prize tokens,” Sir Asperame says. “The prize pool has already gotten pretty large.”
You look at the counter where the man running the game has piled up a small stack of wooden tokens. When he sees that you are joining in, he grins from ear to ear.
“How many matches have you played?” you wonder, trying to count the tokens and convert them to wins.
“Let’s not talk about that,” Sir Asperame says, grabbing the set of darts. “I’ll go first.”
The targets consist of a bullseye, an inner ring and an outer ring worth 100, 50 and 25 points respectively. There are twelve targets, erratically floating around a few paces behind the counter, sometimes even spinning or suddenly zipping back and forth.
Sir Asperame starts off strong, hitting three bullseyes in a row. The targets he’s hit have fallen to the ground, leaving fewer options. He readies his next dart, looking confident, however, he misjudges the speed of a target and his fourth dart careens into the wooden board at the back of the booth.
“Only one dart left, good luck,” Sir Stahlvart says with fake cheer.
Sir Asperame tracks the targets carefully. You notice that one of them seems to be stuck, bouncing back and forth between the edge of the booth and the target next to it. Sir Asperame spots it too and throws his final dart immediately. He manages to hit the target, but misses the bullseye just barely.
“350 points in total, not bad,” he says with a grin.
Sir Stahlvart is up next. His throwing style is unorthodox and full of flourishes, which seem to neither improve nor hinder his accuracy. He immediately hits a bullseye, but then just barely hits the inner ring on the target after. A frown makes its way onto his face and he seems to be focusing a bit more on the next throw.
Another bullseye. And another. And another. It seems whether he was using illusion magic before or not didn’t really matter.
“450 points,” he gloats. “If you want to win, you’ll have to play a perfect game, $playername.”
Sir Asperame is already silently fuming at yet another loss for him as you step up, paying for your round.
“I suppose I’ll have to take this seriously,” you say, trying to project some confidence.
It’s not like you’re an expert at darts or anything like that, but you do have excellent hand-eye-coordination, are great under pressure, and have a steady hand. It’ll be difficult to hit five bullseyes in a row, but not impossible.
You take a deep breath and observe the targets. Their movement patterns seem random, though you do notice that they can’t change direction immediately. There’s always just a bit of a delay, worth taking into account. They also only move within the borders of the booth, so any targets near the edges or corners will have to change direction. Also, they mostly avoid each other, though sometimes they overlap or flip around.
You take a second deep breath and ready the first dart. It feels light in your hand and you figure it should fly in a straight line if you throw it properly. All that’s left is to aim.
Another deep breath. Find a target near the corner, wait for it to delay, and - throw. Bullseye.
Sir Asperame whistles in admiration. You grab the next dart.
Breathe, aim, wait, throw - bullseye.
Sir Stahlvart grumbles unhappily. You wipe some sweat off your hand to better your grip.
Breathe, aim, wait, throw - bullseye.
“You’ve almost got it,” some random person from behind you says and you notice that your competition has garnered a crowd.
Breathe, aim, wait, throw - bullseye.
“You’ve already passed my score,” Sir Asperame says. “The next one will decide it all.”
Breathe, aim, wait, throw - as soon as you release the dart you realise that it was too early. You were too eager to win, too cocky. The dart hits the target - but only in the inner ring.
“450 points for you as well, we have a tie,” Sir Stahlvart says with a smug smile. “Don’t tell me you want a rematch?”
You let out a sigh. That was more stressful than you thought it would be. “I would be fine with just splitting the tokens, honestly,” you say.
“Fair enough!”
Sir Stahlvart and you split the tokens as Sir Asperame shakes his head. “Both of you are stupidly good at this.”
You end up with a decent number of tokens, but not really enough to get any of the more impressive prizes. You’re stuck choosing between a box of candy, a stuffed animal, or a somewhat ugly woven necklace. Even though you’ve outgrown stuffed animals years ago, your eyes land on one in particular that’s kind of… cute, in a sad sort of way. It’s a rabbit with fur that’s probably supposed to be white but looks more grey and bright red button eyes.
It’s a bit pathetic looking, so naturally you end up picking it. Sir Stahlvart gets the box of candy instead, and the three of you end up sharing it as you look at some more games.
Most of them are based on luck, though there are a few more creative ones. There’s one game where you have to determine the correct sequence of runes to activate in order to manoeuvre as many prize tokens through a small maze as possible. The idea is to mainly use runes to ‘push’ and ‘pull’, but there’s a few others that make for interesting combinations. <<set $rabbit to "yes">>
You didn’t plan on spending so much time with the two older knights, but you can’t deny that it’s fun watching Sir Asperame lose at ring toss to a group of little kids.
After about an hour, you decide to go your separate ways, and you consider whether you have enough time to do something else.
<<set $time to $time - 60>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<if $love is not "yes">>[[Apparently there’s someone who does romance divinations… Might be interesting. (45 min)|Chapter8Love]]<<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<set $love to "yes">>
There's a young, hooded person sitting in a tent, advertising incredibly accurate romance divinations. You can't help but be intriqued.
“Interested in knowing whether the person you're interested in is compatible with you? Want to know if you’re destined to be together? All you need to do is hold my hands, and I’ll be able to tell you,” they say as you enter the tent. It's warm inside, and there's a faint but lasting scent of roses in the air.
“Sure, let’s give this a try,” you say as you sit down across from them and lay your hands on the small table between you.
They take your hands in theirs, gripping them softly. Immediately, a faint purple light begins to swirl around your joined hands. You’re still a bit sceptical, but at the very least their magic is visually impressive.
“Now, think of them. That one person that occupies your thoughts…”
Right. You’ll need to direct your thoughts at someone. Even if you aren’t sure whether you’re even interested in them, you’ll have to pick someone. The result will be interesting either way.
[[Think of Az’Lean.|Chapter8LoveA]]
[[Think of Vynn.|Chapter8LoveV]]
[[Think of Maeve.|Chapter8LoveM]]
[[Think of Lester.|Chapter8LoveL]]
[[Think of Thianne.|Chapter8LoveT]]Az'Lean seems mildly surprised when you decide to stick around but doesn't comment on it. Someone else will have to go and get lunch.
It seems that there is a small break between plays as a duo of jesters take the stage instead. Their act isn't... bad, exactly, but not quite your type of humour. They seem to take a lot of joy in mocking each other, then the audience, and pretty much any group of people one can think of. You're honestly surprised that they aren't executed on the spot when they make a very unfortunate chess joke involving the loss of a Queen, though both Az'Lean and Az'Marn look like they're seriously considering it.
At least their juggling is entertaining.
After the two jesters leave the stage with just as much applause as jeering, preparations for the next play are made. You don't know what it's about, you don't even know its title, but from the type of scenery they're constructing, it seems to take place on a ship of some kind. You watch as more and more children crowd the front of the stage, clearly anticipating something great.
Stories about sea-faring and the like have always been popular, but even moreso now, when so few ships leave Gaiapeia's only port and the notion has become increasingly romanticised. You fear the dangers and discomforts of a life at sea are being lost, instead replaced with tall tales of adventure. Then again, you won't begrudge children their fantasies.
The play opens with the scene of a fierce storm, simulated by a generous use of water magic and floating grey cotton balls that hang above the wooden cut out of a ship. The crew consists of one handsome and charming captain who's missing her left eye, a young but spirited navigator, a grizzled old boatswain, and a handful of non-descript officers.
They seem to be capable enough and get through the storm unharmed. However, it appears that during the commotion, one of the officers on board has been murdered - stabbed by another crew member! You see where this is going already.
First, the characters begin to look for a stowaway that might have snuck aboard with ill intentions, but they don't find anyone. The murderer must be one of the people among them. The officers are suddenly no longer background characters, but become prime suspects. The fact that they all look similar turns out to be a plot point.
The young navigator takes it upon themself to solve this mystery, and the children in the audience immediately begin cheering for them and trying to help by shouting the identity of the criminal. You tune them out as to not get spoiled.
A lot of investigative work is being done - gathering evidence, checking alibis, and trying to come up with a reasonable motive. At first, the boatswain looks the most suspicious because he was wandering across the ship unchecked during the storm while everyone else was at their post. However, the entry wound of the knife suggests that the victim was stabbed by someone considerable taller and stronger than the old boatswain, who's hands are perpetually shaking.
The captain has an air-tight alibi given to her by the navigator themself. The murder has her furious beyond reason, accusing her own people left and right in paranoia. It's all very dramatic.
Figuring out who the murderer is turns into a logic puzzle, where ten different accounts are given. When comparing them all with each other, the account of officer B contradicts multiple other accounts, indicating that he is lying. It turns out that his alibi contains a ten minute window in which no one had him in their sights, and the navigator concludes that he is guilty.
In a fit of rage, the captain throws him overboard before he can confess or reveal his motive. Doubts are left as to whether this was the correct choice or not.
The play ends with them arriving at shore, leaving the ship to bury the victim. As soon as the boatswain is alone, he suddenly rights his posture, revealing that he wasn't the feeble old man everyone took him for. His arms aren't shaking at all and he cracks his knuckles.
The children in the audience are cussing him out as he triumphantly leaves the scene and the play ends. A somewhat dissatisfying end, all things considered, though you can't say you weren't entertained. You feel like the story would've had more weight if the boatswain had explained his motive, even just to the audience. As it stands, you'll just have to accept that he gets a thrill out of hiding his true self and stabbing his mates in the back.
As soon as the play ends, Az'Lean motions for you to follow him. “Lunch is calling, $playername.”
[[The day continues.|Chapter8A14]]It’s not like you can just leave your post for something this trivial, after all. There are plenty of other people she can ask for help; you're not obliged to go check on her. You fix your gaze on the wooden skewer in your hand for a moment, waiting for her to move on.
Even if you don’t look at her, you can still hear her. It sounds like she has decided to ask someone else for help.
“Excuse me, could you help me find the Raindrop Inn? I’m staying there with my friend but I can’t seem to recall how to get there.” The old woman’s voice is deep and raspy, and there’s a slight quiver in it.
“Huh? Are you talking to me?” a male-sounding voice responds. “Do I look like a tour guide?”
“No, of course not, I just-”
“Listen here lady, take this as a piece of friendly advice - I am certain the owners of that inn would be happier if you didn’t find your way back to it. In fact, it’s clear that this city is too much for you to handle, so maybe it would be better for everyone if you went back home.”
“But I travelled all this way for the festival. Please, I am not trying to be a bother, I am simply lost.”
“If you don’t want to bother me, then why are you talking to me? Why are you making me look at you? If you really want to be considerate, then at least try to hide that weird thing on your back. It’s unsettling to look at - there’s children here, for Deity’s sake.”
The woman makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a strangled sob.
[[Enough is enough. You have to step in.|Chapter8.16A]]
[[As sad as this is, it has nothing to do with you.|Chapter8.16B]]
<<set $humanity to $humanity - 10>>\
You abandon your post and slowly approach the old half-fae woman. As much as you’re trying to not seem intimidating, she still freezes up in fear once she notices that you are heading towards her. To her, it likely looks like she’s done something wrong.
With what you hope to be an inviting smile on your face, you come to a halt in front of her, a generous distance away. “Excuse me, you looked like you might need some assistance. I apologise if that assumption is wrong.”
The woman takes a half-step backwards, but doesn’t run. Her eyes keep darting around, looking for an escape, glancing at your weapon, but it seems like she tries her best to believe in your good intentions.
“Well, I am a bit lost,” she says, fidgeting with her sleeves as she takes a deep breath and forces herself to take a step towards you.
“Where are you trying to get to?” you ask, glad to hear that it’s not a more serious problem. This you can easily help with - you know your way around Gaitanis well enough.
“I am looking for the Raindrop Inn,” the old half-fae woman says, looking around as if she could spot it from here. “I’m staying there with my friend but I can’t seem to recall how to get there.”
The Raindrop Inn is well known for its size if not for its quality. In truth it is not far from here, though one has to find a bridge to cross the Cassja River to get there from here.
“I know where that is,” you say. “Unfortunately I can’t leave here, otherwise I would show you the way myself. Do you think directions will be enough?”
She slowly shakes her head. “I don’t think I should keep wandering through these streets by myself anymore. I am here with my friend - she’s fully human, so I am usually fine when I am with her. I thought during a large festival like this there would be more half-fae around. I thought it would be fine, but now I’m not so sure anymore. If you hadn’t offered to help me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
“I- I understand not wanting to ask random people for directions, sad as that is to say.”
She nods. “It feels stupid, but I’d rather be lost than a bother. I know people are uncomfortable enough around me without me coming up to talk to them.”
You pause, unsure what to say. Spouting empty reassurances might just make things worse - chances are a number of people here would treat her unkindly. Maybe the only thing you can do is make sure she gets back to her friend and leave the rest to her.
“I understand. I’m sorry Gaitanis has been so… unwelcoming,” you say. “How about we sit down for a bit? Maybe I could show you the way once I’m off duty? Or maybe your friend will come find you?”
[[A small, wobbly smile finds its way onto her face as you return to your post with her in tow and sit down on a nearby bench.|Chapter8.17]]<<set $humanity to $humanity - 5>>\
You turn your gaze back towards her. The old woman is leaning against the wall of a nearby building and a bearded man is standing in front of her, crowding her in. A few people are looking at the scene, but most don’t care.
Leaving your post behind, you briskly walk over to them. The sound of your determined footsteps immediately alerts them of your presence, and both turn to look at you. The half-fae woman stares at you with teary eyes, barely concealed fear shining within.
“You’re bothering this lady,” you say, immediately addressing the man. “There’s no need to act so shamefully if you don’t want to help her. It’s certainly no excuse to be insulting.”
His face reddens in anger, but it is clear that he is in no position to argue with you, an armed knight and the Champion at that.
“Then I leave the <i>honour</i> to escort her to you,” he spits before turning around and running off.
The old woman lets out a shaky breath as she slowly blinks up at you. “Thank you for not turning a blind eye,” she says as she slowly pushes herself away from the wall.
“I just couldn’t stand idly by watching someone be treated like that,” you say. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No, no, he just gave me a fright. It took so long for me to muster up the courage to ask someone for directions, and then it turned out like this…” She clasps her hands in front of her chest, trying to regain her composure, though you can tell how much this has shaken her up.
“Unfortunately I can’t leave here, otherwise I could show the way to the Raindrop Inn. Do you think directions will be enough?”
She slowly shakes her head. “I don’t think I should keep wandering through these streets by myself anymore. I am here with my friend - she’s fully human, so I am usually fine when I am with her. I thought during a large festival like this there would be more half-fae around. I thought it would be fine, but now I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe I really should go back home.”
You pause, unsure what to say. Spouting empty reassurances might just make things worse - chances are there will be others who’ll treat her unkindly. Maybe the only thing you can do is make sure she gets back to her friend and leave the rest to her.
“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad experience here,” you say. “How about we sit down for a bit?
[[A small, wobbly smile finds its way onto her face as you return to your post with her in tow and sit down on a nearby bench.|Chapter8.17]]<<set $Lester to 0>>\
<<set $humanity to 100>>\
You sternly keep your gaze turned away as the man continues to berate the old woman before she eventually starts sobbing. It’s a pitiful sound but you remain steadfast.
After a minute, the man has enough of it and leaves, yet the woman doesn’t quiet down. She keeps crying loudly and is clearly still lost, but no one offers to console her - no one offers her their aid. That is, until you hear a familiar voice.
Lester is speaking to the old half-fae woman - kindly, softly, so quietly and calmly that you can’t make out the words. Whatever he said, it seems to be the right thing. The woman’s cries subside and as she calms down, she grows quiet.
You are still looking resolutely in the other direction, so you don’t know what they are doing, and you miss the moment they leave. Did Lester notice you were here? You imagine his eyes on you, burning with more intensity than his fire magic, but you can’t be certain that he even registered your presence. Either way, it’s a good thing that he showed up to help the woman. You’re not sure whether you would’ve been able to keep up this act of ignorance.
Once you are sure that they aren’t anywhere close to you anymore, you turn your gaze back out onto the street. As you wait for Az’Lean, you idly watch the people pass you by. Most are enjoying themselves, some are arguing or complaining.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[None of it is any of your business.|Chapter8A18]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
[[None of it is any of your business.|Chapter8B18]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
[[None of it is any of your business.|Chapter8C18]]<<endif>>\<<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
The half-fae woman and you sit in silence for a while; neither of you seem to know what to talk about. A part of you is curious about her and her life as a half-fae, especially considering that she must have lived through quite a few changes due to her age, but it feels inconsiderate to ask her any personal questions. You don’t even know her name, though maybe you could start with an introduction of your own.
“My name is $playername Grahm, by the way,” you say, finally breaking through the silence.
“Oh! My name is Linda Vale,” she answers immediately, then scrambles for something else to say. “Um, I’m visiting from Highmark territory, just for the festival.”
You’re glad to have found a topic to latch onto. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to Highmark. What’s it like?”
Linda smiles softly. “It is quite beautiful. The terrain is rocky and much harsher than here, but we do get a lot of sun. I don’t know if it’s because of that or because there’s some kind of magic in the ground, but there are a lot of crystals in Highmark. Most of them grow in caves or inside large rocks, but some of them grow on the surface as well. I am used to them after all these years, but if you haven’t seen them before, I’d say they alone are worth a visit.”
You try to imagine it, but you’re sure the real deal is vastly more impressive than you can even begin to visualise. “I’ll make sure to remember that if I ever have the chance to visit Highmark.”
The two of you keep talking for a while. Linda describes her hometown and the work as seamstress she does there. A family business, according to her, though her brother is in charge of sales since he looks much less fae than she does.
“I try not to let it get to me too much,” she goes on to say. “Even among humans there are those who are less beautiful than others or stand out for some different kind of reason. It’s only natural to be swayed by conventionally good looks when it comes to sales and the like.”
You suppose that much is true, though that doesn’t make it better. “If people were more used to seeing half-fae, maybe it would be different. It’s a vicious circle - half-fae are shunned because they deviate from the norm, and because they are shunned, even fewer people get the opportunity to interact with them.”
Linda nods. “Just so. It wasn’t always this bad. There used to be a lot more of us - still rare, but not to this degree. Nowadays though, are there even any half-fae being born? There’s no way for humans and fae to live together, so how would they fall in love and get children together? My parents met each other near the border, and back then it wasn’t illegal for fae to come visit or even stay for a while.”
Once again it comes back to this.
You decide to let this particular topic of conversation die down at this point. No matter what you say, you feel like it’d be hypocritical, seeing as you are actively breaking that law by being here. Better not to say anything you might regret. Instead, you move on to talking about Grahm territory and your own home.
Just when you begin to wonder how to broach the topic of getting Linda back to the Raindrop Inn with Az’Lean, an opportunity presents itself. Just on the other side of the street you notice Lester, casually strolling along. You’re not entirely certain that he’d be willing to help Linda, but you doubt he’s callous enough to just keep walking.
“Hey, Lester!” you call out. Linda winces at your sudden outburst at first, but once she realises who you are addressing she immediately relaxes. In fact, spotting Lester seems to melt away all the tension that had previously been weighing on her.
Lester jogs over as soon as he notices you, green eyes blinking at Linda with curiosity. “I can’t even go a few hours without seeing you, can I, $playername? Who’s your friend?”
“My name is Linda,” she says. “I’m visiting for the festival. Unfortunately, I’ve gotten lost and $playername was kind enough to keep me company.”
Lester’s eyes flit to you - there’s something warm shining within them. “I see, I see. So I guess you want me to make sure that she gets to her destination, safe and sound?”
You nod. “I can’t really leave here, and I don’t think… Well-”
“I wasn’t comfortable asking someone else for help,” Linda admits. “Lester, was it? Do you know the way to the Raindrop Inn?”
“Sure I do. It’s not even all that far, I don’t mind just taking you there,” Lester says with a shrug. “You’re not visiting on your own, are you? Even for someone like me this city isn’t always safe.”
“I’m here with my friend. I didn’t think it’d be like this. So few of us.” Linda shakes her head, sadly. “It was great luck that you were just passing by.”
“I’ll say. Come on then. I’ll give you some advice about how to avoid trouble on the way,” Lester says, offering Linda a hand to help her up. “We can’t always count on $playername to bail us out, after all.”
“Though I am always willing to help,” you add quickly.
“Thank you so much for that,” Linda says, extending a hand to you. You carefully take it and shake it - her hand is tiny in yours, all wrinkled skin and bones.
You watch as Lester leads Linda away. Now that the two of them are walking together, they stand out even more. Two half-fae in a sea of humans.
As nice as it was to meet Linda and make sure she’d get to her destination, you can’t help the way in which your earlier conversation with her still rattles around in your head.
<<if $route == 1>>[[You wonder how Az’Lean would react if you told him about it, though in the end you don’t have the courage to bring it up.|Chapter8A18]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>[[You wonder how Az’Lean would react if you told him about it, though in the end you don’t have the courage to bring it up.|Chapter8B18]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>[[You wonder how Az’Lean would react if you told him about it, though in the end you don’t have the courage to bring it up.|Chapter8C18]] <<endif>>\
You spend the rest of the day dutifully following Az’Lean around. It’s starting to wear on you just a little bit - all those people around, visitors and strangers, potential dangers just lying in wait. Having your guard up so extensively is starting to become exhausting. What has you even more on edge is the fact that there hasn’t been any kind of incident so far. No suspicious activities, no one trying to incite an uproar against the crown, no shady deals between nobles, not even any drunken brawls.
Everything is going too smoothly. It doesn’t reassure you; in fact it only makes you believe that something <i>is</i> happening, you simply aren’t aware of it yet. You quietly share your concerns with Az’Lean over dinner, and while he does seem to share them, he’s right when he says there’s nothing you can do.
“Do try to enjoy yourself as best as you can,” he says as he’s raising his glass of wine to you.
Is it alright for you to be drinking? Is it alright for you to go to sleep after and just hope that nothing happens at night? You know that there are knights and guards active at all times, but are they taking their jobs seriously enough? What if they’re getting lax because of the festival’s atmosphere as well?
You take a deep breath as you try to centre yourself. There’s no point in worrying about things you can’t control. What you can control is the decision to not drink any alcohol tonight and if that makes you feel more confident in your abilities, then it is already worth it. You swap your wine out for water and raise that to Az’Lean instead.
The rest of your evening is spent quietly and you end up going to bed rather early. No matter what happens, the more energy you have, the better. And if nothing at all happens, well, then you can expend all that energy during the dance on the final day.
As you lie in bed waiting for sleep to claim you - the sun has barely retreated beyond the horizon even though it is approaching midnight - you hear the faintest traces of music. It’s a song you recognise, though you don’t remember from where. A lullaby, maybe? Then again your mother was never the type to sing to you, and the only songs your father knows are heroic war ballads.
With your eyes shut tightly, you try to focus purely on the music. You feel like you can make out a few words; in any case it is a female voice singing them.
You think you hear…
[[“And so, my dear, departed - you’ve left me broken-hearted.”|Chapter8A19]]You spend the rest of the day unenthusiastically following Az’Lean around. It’s starting to wear on you - all those people around, visitors and strangers, potential dangers that you have to pretend to care about. Putting on a front is starting to become exhausting. What has you even more on edge is the fact that there hasn’t been any kind of incident so far. No suspicious activities, no one trying to incite an uproar against the crown, no shady deals between nobles, not even any drunken brawls.
Everything is going too smoothly. It doesn’t reassure you; in fact it only makes you believe that something <i>is</i> happening, you simply aren’t aware of it yet. Nevermind the fact that you and Maeve don't have any plans concerning the festival, there must surely be other fae acting on their own, intending to use this opportunity.
You're quiet over dinner, and Az'Lean immediately picks up on it.
“Do try to enjoy yourself as best as you can,” he says as he’s raising his glass of wine to you.
Would it look suspicious if you let your guard down enough to start drinking? Would Az'Lean think that you are not taking your job seriously, or that something in particular is weighing on your mind?
You take a deep breath as you try to centre yourself. There’s no point in worrying about things you can’t control. What you can control is the decision to not drink any alcohol tonight, and if that makes you feel more secure in your ability to keep your secret safe, then it is already worth it. You swap your wine out for water and raise that to Az’Lean instead.
The rest of your evening is spent quietly and you end up going to bed rather early. No matter what happens, the more energy you have, the better. And if nothing at all happens, well, then you can expend all that energy during the dance on the final day.
The sun has barely retreated beyond the horizon even though it is approaching midnight. As you lie in bed waiting for sleep to claim you, you barely even register Maeve's sudden appearance. She sits down at the edge of your bed, a constant, comforting presence, and doesn't bother engaging you in conversation.
Maeve begins to sing, ever so softly. It’s a song you recognise, though you don’t remember from where. A lullaby, maybe? Then again your mother was never the type to sing to you, and the only songs your father knows are heroic war ballads.
Your eyes fall closed on their own accord, and your mind is already too muddled to decipher the music clearly.
You think you hear…
[[“A summer's kiss, so sweet, so sour - I'm with you til your final hour.”|Chapter8B19]]You spend the rest of the day following Az’Lean around. It’s starting to wear on you just a little bit - all those people around, visitors and strangers, potential dangers just lying in wait. Having your guard up so extensively is starting to become exhausting. What has you even more on edge is the fact that there hasn’t been any kind of incident so far. No suspicious activities, no one trying to incite an uproar against the crown, no shady deals between nobles, not even any drunken brawls.
Everything is going too smoothly. It doesn’t reassure you; in fact it only makes you believe that something <i>is</i> happening, you simply aren’t aware of it yet. You quietly share your concerns with Az’Lean over dinner, and while he does seem to share them, he’s right when he says there’s nothing you can do.
“Do try to enjoy yourself as best as you can,” he says as he’s raising his glass of wine to you.
Is it alright for you to be drinking? There's so much to keep track of - guarding your secret, doing your job as Champion, it's all a balancing act.
You take a deep breath as you try to centre yourself. There’s no point in worrying about things you can’t control. What you can control is the decision to not drink any alcohol tonight and if that makes you feel more secure, then it is already worth it. You swap your wine out for water and raise that to Az’Lean instead.
The rest of your evening is spent quietly and you end up going to bed rather early. No matter what happens, the more energy you have, the better. And if nothing at all happens, well, then you can expend all that energy during the dance on the final day.
As you lie in bed waiting for sleep to claim you - the sun has barely retreated beyond the horizon even though it is approaching midnight - you hear the faintest traces of music. It’s a song you recognise, though you don’t remember from where. A lullaby, maybe? Then again your mother was never the type to sing to you, and the only songs your father knows are heroic war ballads.
With your eyes shut tightly, you try to focus purely on the music. You feel like you can make out a few words; in any case it is a female voice singing them.
You think you hear…
[[“A road that's meant to lead to bliss - instead it ends in the abyss.”|Chapter8C19]]<<set $gods to "yes">>\
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 10th of the Midday Moon
!!!Third Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
<i>'The Old Gods' has been added to images.</i>
The third day of the festival is reserved for religious matters. As such, shrines have been erected around the city dedicated to various Goddesses and Gods. There are exhibitions pertaining to them as well as sermons being held.
It is very early when Az’Lean drags you through the still mostly empty streets. Only the bakeries have opened so far and the two of you grab some breakfast on the way to your destination. Apparently, Az’Lean wanted to visit the shrine dedicated to Wyrd as early as possible to avoid a large number of people seeing him there. You suppose as far as religious experiences are concerned, it makes sense to wish for some peace and quiet.
While there are a few chapels dedicated to the Old Gods, they usually aren’t reserved for only one particular God. Today, one such chapel near the outskirts of Gaitanis has been dedicated solely to Wyrd, the Goddess of Fate. There are maps hung up around the city, detailing where all of these shrines are located - one glance at it reveals that they are spread out mostly evenly in what appears to be a pentagram formation.
The chapel is tucked away in a small, cosy street, hidden beneath the shadow of Gaitanis’ massive outer wall. It is a small building made of sandstone with ornate stained glass windows depicting sceneries of nature. Despite what Az’Lean had hoped for, there are already a few visitors milling about. Right at the entrance of the chapel is a large framed picture of Wyrd - or one of her depictions, at least. After all, no one really knows what she looks like.
In this picture, Wyrd has been painted as a very regal, middle-aged woman sitting behind an old spinning wheel. She’s wearing a dark purple cloak that drapes behind her and seems to be covered in constellations and crescent moons.
“How much do you know about Wyrd?” Az’Lean asks as you step inside the chapel. The interior is dark and freezing, and you can’t suppress a slight shiver.
“Not a lot,” you admit. “I know she’s the Goddess of Fate and that she weaves all events, past and future, into tapestries, keeping them as records.”
Az’Lean nods. He leads you past a number of other visitors to a certain exhibit containing Wyrd. Behind a shimmering magical barrier an old, tattered tapestry is hung on the chapel wall. Its texture is like nothing you’ve ever seen before - you couldn’t even guess what type of material this has been woven from.
“They say this is a tapestry Wyrd wove when the Old Gods still walked this earth. It must be many centuries older than the kingdom itself,” Az’Lean explains as you cautiously step closer. “That it’s been preserved this long is frankly a miracle. It’s difficult to tell what this tapestry depicts. This scene could be from the past, or it could be from the future.”
You take a closer look at it. The tapestry depicts a disaster or battle of some kind, though you can’t make out any details. The only thing you can identify with certainty are swords on the ground and dead trees in the background.
[[Whatever this shows, you don’t like it.|Chapter8A20]]
[[Whatever this shows, it fills you with rage.|Chapter8A20]]
[[Whatever this shows, it makes you feel determined.|Chapter8A20]]
As you gaze at the tapestry, you hear a cleric tell a story about Wyrd to some of the other visitors. You can’t help but overhear.
“Wyrd is not only known as the Goddess of Fate, but also as the Goddess of Learning and the Truth. It is said that she once befriended a human historian since she was impressed with their desire to learn from the past. She helped them build a giant library. Whenever the historian asked for Wyrd to share her knowledge with them, she simply laughed in response. ‘The reason why I find you admirable is the futility of your work,’ she said. ‘No matter how large your library is, you will never be able to collect all of the world’s knowledge. Even if you were immortal you wouldn’t be able to. That you still try regardless is beautiful. So keep on working, even knowing that I have all the answers and yet won’t ever share them with you.’ At that, the historian grew frustrated, but it was a truth they had to accept. Fate and the Future are only for Wyrd to know, and for us to live.”
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “I figure Wyrd has a bit of a mean streak, wouldn’t you say?”
“It begs the question if that’s just a part of her personality or if perhaps all gods find humans amusing. We must seem pretty stupid to them,” you say with a shrug.
“I have no doubt Wyrd laughs at me as well, if she even gets any of my prayers,” Az’Lean says. “I suppose knowing how everything ends makes it difficult for her to care about anything. Like when you know that at the end of the book the hero lives, so you don’t feel anything whenever they’re put in danger. You know he’ll live one way or the other.”
“Are you praying to her in the hopes of learning about your fate, or changing it?” you ask.
Az’Lean stares at you. “Fate isn’t changeable, which is why there’s no point asking about it. No, I pray to let Wyrd know how much I hate the path that’s been laid out before me. I complain to her, not because I expect her to change anything on my account, but just because I feel like I should let her know that she’s being unfair.”
What a curious answer, though you suppose the futility of it all but guarantees that Wyrd truly would be laughing at Az’Lean if she were to receive his prayers.
“So you believe in determinism? That your future is already written and there’s no changing it?” you ask, finding the thought of it disturbing. You feel like you have free will, at least to some degree. You can’t change your circumstances or who you are, of course, but you can always decide how to react to things that happen to you.
“That’s right. I believe fully in fate. That’s why I pray to Wyrd - she knows what has happened to me and what will happen to me, so I’m sure she understands me. I resent the fact that she simply exists somewhere, watching our lives play out, keeping a record of it but doing nothing benevolent for us at all - at the same time, it’s comforting to know that someone out there understands and remembers. Through her I feel seen. I feel known.”
The blue of Az’Lean’s eyes dims a bit as he looks around the chapel. Is he searching for her presence? For answers she will never give him?
You feel like there’s not much point debating about the Gods and their whims, but you feel like you can understand where Az’Lean’s… well, you wouldn’t really call it faith, but where his connection to Wyrd is coming from.
As for your own thoughts on the matter…
[[Maybe fate and destiny are real, and you are simply walking the path you are meant to walk.|Chapter8A21]]
[[You don’t believe in fate at all. People are fully responsible for their choices and their actions.|Chapter8A21]]
[[Fate, the Gods - there’s no way to tell what’s real and what’s not. It doesn’t really concern you either way.|Chapter8A21]]Deeper in the chapel, there are large pages hung up on the wall, detailing Wyrd’s origin story. Az’Lean already knows it, so he walks past them, but you sneak a glance at them.
You read that Wyrd and the other Old Gods came to be when the magic of the lands gained a sense of self and became conscious. There were twelve of them in total, but even so they became lonely and wished for more company, thus creating humans and the fae. While they were lesser beings than them, they still lived together with the Gods for quite some time until they were numerous and intelligent enough to no longer need their guidance.
It is believed that nowadays, the Gods reside fully in the Otherworld - realm of the dead, realm of all magic.
You wonder whether they grew bored of humans and fae, and their incessant fighting.
As you tour the chapel, you look at a few more depictions of Wyrd. She’s always presented as a woman, sometimes young, sometimes old. The spinning wheel is another constant, but her clothing varies a lot, as well as the background. Sometimes she’s floating in the night sky, sometimes she’s sitting atop a stone tower, sometimes she’s in a field of flowers. In one painting, she’s dressed in a full suit of armour, and you can tell that Az’Lean likes this version of her the best.
You listen to the cleric tell a few more stories about Wyrd before you decide to leave. It is rapidly getting more crowded and more and more people are trying to approach Az’Lean to get him to talk to them. On your way out, the cleric hands you both a souvenir - a small wooden replica of a spinning wheel attached to a black leather band. Az’Lean puts his in his pocket.
[[You decide to wear it around your neck.|Chapter8A22]]
[[You decide to wear it around your wrist.|Chapter8A22]]
[[You put yours away in your pocket as well.|Chapter8A22]]
As soon as you leave the chapel, it feels like you’ve stepped into a fireplace. It is still before noon but the heat is already sweltering. Today promises to be quite the summer’s day.
“Maybe we should stay out of the sun,” Az’Lean suggests. He comes to a halt in front of one of the maps showcasing the shrines’ locations.
“Is there any other shrine you’re interested in visiting?” he asks.
You look at the map. It wouldn’t make any sense to trudge all the way across the city, so you look at the shrines closest to here.
There’s a shrine for Aurendil, the God of Light, just north of here, as well as one for Skadon, the God of Darkness right next to it. Interesting placement, to say the least.
Northeast of here is the shrine for Tuis, the Goddess of Secrets. Northwest is the shrine for Menon, the God of the Moon. West of here is the shrine for Sugelan, the Goddess of the Sun.
[[Aurendil and Skadon are right next to each other, so you might as well go there.|Chapter8Light]]
[[Tuis sounds the most intriguing.|Chapter8Secrets]]
[[Menon might be interesting to learn about.|Chapter8Moon]]
[[You remember that your father used to worship Sugelan, years ago.|Chapter8Sun]]
The shrines dedicated to Aurendil and Skadon have been erected inside of a small, local theatre. While the section dedicated to Aurendil is displayed in the middle of the stage, brightly lit from all angles, the section to Skadon is separated from that by a heavy black curtain, hidden from any direct sort of view. Most fitting for the God of Light and the God of Darkness respectively.
As you explore the exhibit, you learn that Aurendil and Skadon are not considered opposing forces, despite their dynamic. In fact, they are often depicted as lovers, and described as two halves of a greater whole. Light and darkness - intrinsically and eternally intertwined, forever dependent on each other, and always struggling for equilibrium.
There are many paintings showing both of them together, a considerable number of paintings displaying only Aurendil, and only a handful that feature only Skadon. It makes sense once you consider how they are portrayed. Aurendil is always painted to be blindingly handsome, the epitome of divinity, dressed in white and all the colours of the rainbow, dominating any frame he is in. Skadon on the other hand is sometimes only a pair of eyes looking out of a shroud of darkness, sometimes he is an unremarkable man dressed in black looming in the background, sometimes he is but a silhouette against Aurendil’s light.
You already knew that Aurendil is also the name of the brightest known star, so it makes sense that he is not only considered the God of Light, but also a guide for travellers. You learn that in addition to that, he guides not only physically, but also spiritually by bestowing bouts of inspiration and bright ideas upon his believers. Many artists pray to Aurendil for creative help.
As was the case with Wyrd, there is also a relic on display for Aurendil. Under a magical barrier, in the middle of the stage, a large silver compass is catching your eye with the way it shines. As you inspect it more closely, you note that it isn’t pointing north. Instead, it keeps flicking between south and south-west, almost as if it were consciously searching for something.
“The Starlight Compass,” Az’Lean reads aloud from the plaque. “It is said that Aurendil used it to stay aware of Skadon’s whereabouts, even across realms. It got left behind here when the two of them left for the Otherworld together.”
“That’s either very romantic, or somewhat concerning,” you say. Always knowing where your partner is…
You move behind the curtain to Skadon’s exhibit. As fitting as it is for the God of Darkness, you would appreciate it if it weren’t so difficult to see anything. You do notice that the lack of light isn’t scary in any way, but rather comforting. Pillows and soft strands of fabric have been used to decorate this space, for Skadon is also known as the God in charge of sleep and dreams. From a wooden tablet that you are barely able to read you learn that any sort of nothingness, whether it be the absence of light, sleep, death or any other kind of loss, is Skadon’s to look after. He doesn’t guide anyone like Aurendil does, but he keeps his believers company during even the darkest of times. His domain is oblivion, and that’s not necessarily a negative thing.
The relic on display for Skadon is a black lace veil, suspended in the air by magic so one can stand directly under it. Once you do, you feel an all encompassing sense of peace - almost strong enough to entice you to stay here forever. You force yourself to leave and check the plaque: The Veil of Rest.
“There’s no description as to what it does, though it seems to be quite powerful,” you comment.
Az’Lean remains silent as you continue looking around. Eventually the darkness becomes too stifling and you decide to leave the shrine.
“I’d say we have time to check out one of the other Gods,” Az’Lean says once you step outside. He all but basks in the sunlight. “Where do you want to go?”
You take a look at the map. The shrines for Yama, Ing and Ueltus are on the other side of the city, so it's probably better to pick one that's closer.
[[The shrine dedicated to Tonaros, the God of Weather, is closest to here.|Chapter8Weather]]
[[Austron, the Goddess of Nature, is one of the most significant ones and her shrine isn't far.|Chapter8Nature]]
[[It's a bit of a walk to get to the shrine of Nertha, Goddess of War, though it may be worth it.|Chapter8War]]The shrine dedicated to Tuis has been erected in the backroom of a popular tea house. You figure it’s fittingly hidden for the Goddess of Secrets. The room is filled with books and scrolls, none of which bear any kind of title or other indication as to what they might be about.
“How mysterious,” Az’Lean comments wryly.
As you take some time to look at the portraits of Tuis, you’re surprised to find that she is most often depicted as a small, frail, elderly woman, often with pointed ears and glittering white hair. You wonder why Tuis is portrayed to have fae features while Wyrd isn’t. Most commonly, Tuis is painted in a black dress with a number of keys hung like jewellery around her neck as she stands inside a wooden archway. In some of the paintings, a hand is covering her mouth.
You know that Tuis is considered the keeper of all secrets, but one of the plaques explains that she is also considered the Silent Observer - someone who is all knowing but has no voice to share her knowledge with others. You suppose that would make it easy for her to keep whatever she wished hidden. It also says that some believe her to have sworn an oath of silence, some believe her to have always been mute, while others think she very much did and could speak, but simply often chose not to.
There is also one painting showing her and Wyrd together, diametrically opposed. You learn that Tuis is also considered the Goddess of Lies, not in the sense that she was a liar, but that she would let lies run rampant in the same way she guarded secrets. While both Wyrd and Tuis keep records of events, Wyrd’s is objective and timeless, whereas Tuis records the words and memories of people - distorted, deceptive, and so very colourful.
As was the case with Wyrd, there is also a relic of Tuis’ on display here. Behind a dome of multiple magical barriers lies a locked box, decorated with gold, just large enough to need two hands to carry it. You wonder whether there’s treasure inside, maybe jewellery or a special tome, or maybe it’s some kind of music box. There’s no plaque to explain what you’re looking at. The lock on the box glistens with faint traces of magic although the edges of the metal are scratched - you wonder how many have unsuccessfully tried to open it.
During the time you and Az’Lean spend here, you can’t help but wonder whether Tuis is looking at you right now, keeping your own secret safe from all the unsuspecting people around you.
“I’d say we have time to check out one of the other Gods,” Az’Lean says once you step outside. He all but basks in the sunlight. “Where do you want to go?”
You take a look at the map. The shrine for Austron is on the other side of the city, so it's probably better to pick one that's closer than that.
[[The shrine dedicated to Tonaros, the God of Weather, is closest to here.|Chapter8Weather]]
[[Nertha, the Goddess of War, is one of the most popular ones and her shrine isn't far.|Chapter8War]]
[[It's a bit of a walk to get to the shrine of Ueltus, God of Law, though it might be worth it.|Chapter8Law]]
[[The shrines of Yama, Goddess of Family, and Ing, God of Love, have been combined, so going there will get you the most for your time.|Chapter8LoveFamily]]The shrine dedicated to Menon has been erected out in the open in the middle of a small park. White rose bushes mark the edges of it and draw you slowly into the centre. Paintings and informative tablets have been placed in the shape of a crescent moon around a small altar on which a strange object rests beneath a number of magical barriers.
You first take some time to look at the paintings and observe how Menon has been depicted. It doesn’t surprise you that the moon makes up the background of every single image, though how Menon himself looks varies somewhat. Sometimes he’s portrayed as a frail young man with sickly pale skin and wispy white hair, other times he’s an older man with a beard, and there’s even one portrait where he’s very clearly some type of fae with pitch black eyes, pointed ears and floor-length silver hair.
In truth, it makes sense for Menon to be shown as a fae, since he isn’t only the God of the Moon, but also the God of mysticism, magic, and healing. The average fae is already much more predisposed to using magic than the average human, so you would expect the God of Magic to be fae as well.
One question that isn’t really answered in detail is what his relationship to Sugelan, the Goddess of the Sun, is, but maybe it is a foolish assumption that there has to be one. Maybe Menon is sick of always being lumped in with Sugelan or being compared to her. Maybe the two of them are just friendly acquaintances and their domains just happen to be related to each other.
You read a bit about the connection between the moon and magic, but it is all very theoretical stuff that mostly goes beyond your understanding. You know that the moon is a common rune or symbol used in magical theory, but the significance of this information is somewhat lost on you.
As was the case with Wyrd, there is also a relic of Menon on display here. Behind a dome of multiple magical barriers lies something you only identify as a spyglass when you really take the time to look at it, because it is so ornate and full of small, moving parts that you can’t quite figure out how it is even supposed to be used.
“It's called the Menon-Scope,” you read aloud from the plaque next to it.
Az’Lean scoffs. “Are we just calling it that or did he name it after himself?”
You continue reading. “It is believed that Menon used this to observe the life below whenever he was residing on the moon. There was not much for him to do up there, but he enjoyed the solitude every once in a while.”
“How strange,” Az’Lean comments, looking up at the sky. The moon is just barely visible as a faint outline above the city. “The idea of going up there at all…”
You spend some more time just taking in the park, but the heat is quickly becoming too much and Az’Lean suggests moving on.
“We have some more time. Is there another shrine you want to see?”
You take a look at the map. The shrines for Tonaros and Austron are on the other side of the city, so it's probably better to pick one that's closer than that.
[[Nertha, the Goddess of War, is one of the most popular ones and her shrine isn't far.|Chapter8War]]
[[It's a bit of a walk to get to the shrine of Ueltus, God of Law, though it might be worth it.|Chapter8Law]]
[[The shrines of Yama, Goddess of Family, and Ing, God of Love, have been combined, so going there will get you the most for your time.|Chapter8LoveFamily]]The shrine dedicated to Sugelan has been erected on the rooftop of a popular inn. You suppose it makes sense that the Goddess of the Sun would appreciate her shrine being as close to the sun as possible. Once you get there, it is almost too crowded to really take the exhibit in.
“Makes sense that it’s so busy here,” Az’Lean comments, “it is the solstice, after all.”
You wonder whether that is equivalent to being Sugelan’s birthday in any way.
You first take some time to look at the paintings and observe how Sugelan has been depicted. It doesn’t surprise you that the sun or some form of sunset makes up the background of every single image. Sugelan herself is most often depicted as a human woman in shining armour, holding some type of weapon. She’s often shown with dark skin, sometimes her hair is the colour of fire, sometimes it’s golden, sometimes it’s black. The most impressive painting has her holding a massive battle axe and actively carving a mountain in half. It is inspiring, in a ridiculous sort of way.
One question that isn’t really answered in detail is what her relationship to Menon, the God of the Moon, is, but maybe it is a foolish assumption that there has to be one. Maybe Sugelan is sick of always being lumped in with Menon or being compared to him. Maybe the two of them are just friendly acquaintances and their domains just happen to be related to each other.
You read a bit about the warrior aspect of Sugelan. You knew that the sun was associated with power, but that it translates so closely into physical strength and courage is a bit surprising. Why exactly is there such a strong connection between the sun and knighthood? Is it because heat is used to melt ore and create weapons? Or is it less literal than that?
As was the case with Wyrd, there is also a relic of Sugelan on display here. Behind a dome of multiple magical barriers lies something you can only describe as a mirror shield, its reflective surface making it impossible to take a closer look at it. You can’t even read the plague describing what it is, it is that bright. It is generating some heat as well, or it at the very least feels like it.
Az’Lean gazes at the sky. “I get the feeling Sugelan is really enjoying herself today, though I’d appreciate it if she didn’t roast us in the process.”
It’s true, the sun has been incredibly unforgiving and the heat is quickly becoming tough to bear, especially with all of the people crowding around you.
“I suggest we go somewhere else,” you say, trying your damnedest to not accidentally look at the mirror shield.
“We have some more time. Is there another shrine you want to see? Preferably one located inside a cool building.”
You take a look at the map. The shrines for Tonaros and Nertha are on the other side of the city, so it's probably better to pick one that's closer than that.
[[The shrine for Ueltus, the God of Law, is close by.|Chapter8Law]]
[[It's a bit of a walk to get to the shrine of Austron, Goddess of Nature, though it might be worth it.|Chapter8Nature]]
[[The shrines of Yama, Goddess of Family, and Ing, God of Love, have been combined, so going there will get you the most for your time.|Chapter8LoveFamily]]During the early evening hours, when the heat has finally begun to lessen just a bit, you find yourself back on the balcony from the previous day, watching the stage. Az’Lean and the king are sitting somewhere in the back, speaking quietly to each other, while you sit in the front next to Thianne. In a matter of minutes, a sermon about the New Deity will be held on the stage.
While the Old Gods had their shrines spread around the city, the New Deity - or their believers, at least - have laid claim to the stage on the market place. You suppose it makes sense, considering that a lot of people will be interested in hearing this. The New Deity has completely replaced the Old Gods for many, though you wonder how that came to be. Is faith truly such a fickle thing? Maybe listening to this sermon will reveal something.
“Do you believe in the New Deity?” you ask Thianne conversationally.
She raises an eyebrow as she looks at you. “Do I look like the religious type to you? Even if they are real, they’re clearly not interested in interactin’ with us, so why should I care? No, my interest in religion is purely academic.”
“So you are also wondering how the New Deity has managed to garner this much support in just a few decades?”
“My theory is that growin’ tensions with the fae made people look towards the Old Gods with suspicion or contempt. They wanted a religious figure that served solely humans, that had nothing to do with fae or old myths. The New Deity happened to fill that void perfectly. Interestin’, isn’t it?” Thianne narrows her eyes as she looks towards the stage. “I very much doubt this deity is real, but that makes it all the more fascinatin’ to me.”
That much you agree with. You wonder whether the fae think humans are idiots for believing in something like that. Then again, should the New Deity be real, what would that mean for humanity? That their desires were able to manifest the creation of a new godly being?
A group of six clerics take the stage. You wonder why a sermon would require that many of them - perhaps they will take turns? They are all dressed in beige robes that trail on the ground behind them. None of them have their hoods up, though you don’t fault them for it in this heat.
One of the clerics, an older man, moves to the centre of the stage first. He holds up both of his hands and the crowd below quiets down.
“Greetings,” he says after clearing his throat. His voice has been magically enhanced and echoes throughout the entire marketplace. You note that it sounds deep and melodious, and you can imagine that people enjoy listening to him.
“I am Grand Cleric Armin, and I will be presenting the New Deity’s will and provenance this evening. We hope to foster understanding and bring their teachings closer to all of you. There will be time to answer questions at the end, for this should be as much a conversation as it is a sermon. We derive all of our knowledge from our most trusted oracles, who have been able to commune directly with the New Deity, so rest assured that we are delivering their words to you as directly as we are able.” He gestures towards the other clerics behind him.
“So they are oracles,” Thianne mutters quietly to herself.
“It was over one hundred years ago when the first human was able to hear the New Deity’s voice,” the cleric continues. “They made themself known with a greeting and a promise of help, for they had seen humanity’s suffering. It is our want and our need for godly grace and protection that made the New Deity join us in this realm. Perhaps it is what manifested them in the first place. As such, it is our duty to honour this connection. They have come into being to support us, and so we must support and worship them in turn. Much as our beloved King protects us and leads us to prosperity, so too plays the New Deity a similar role in our lives.”
A wave of interested and appreciative murmurs makes its way through the crowd as the cleric pauses.
Thianne rolls her eyes. “I wonder, in what way has the New Deity helped us, exactly?”
[[“People are going to attribute any kind of good fortune to them,” you say. “It devalues the hard work that goes into actually improving the kingdom.”|Chapter8A24A]]
[[“Maybe they truly have helped us. It’s not like we’d be able to tell,” you say. “It’s possible.”|Chapter8A24B]]
[[“Even if they are real and have helped us, isn’t this strangely transactional? A king collects taxes - what would a deity get in return for offering us aid?” you wonder.|Chapter8A24C]]
Thianne snorts. “Of which you and I surely contribute at least a fifth each. Maybe sorcerers should be revered instead; I wouldn’t mind ascendin’ to Godhood.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne - 5>>\
Thianne gives you a disappointed look. “I suppose barely anything is actually impossible when it comes to magic and divinity. Still, I don’t see a reason to believe it.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne hums thoughtfully. “You make a good point, $playername. I wonder whether that’s going to come up in the sermon at all.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
As soon as the oracle has been dragged off stage, the old man continues with his sermon as if nothing at all noteworthy had just happened. After that little display, the crowd’s opinion seems to be split. Those who believe are exalted, those who don’t are irritated by having to watch such a blatant lie.
He keeps talking about what the New Deity stands for and how they are different from the Old Gods. “They have observed the progress we have made and they don’t shun us for it. While the Old Gods are too entrenched in the way things used to be, the New Deity understands that our lives have changed. That’s what they stand for - the future. The Old Gods have long since abandoned us, they have no interest in our future, in our capacity to change, and in the progress we’ve already made. They are confined to their domains, like the moon, the sun, nature, or fate. The New Deity encompasses all of these elements and more. They are not limited. Much like the future, they represent endless possibilities.”
You do suppose it would be easier to worship only one Deity as opposed to twelve different Goddesses and Gods. Then again, you’ve been fine going through your life without really worshipping any of them. <i>Have you been fine?</i>
The sermon ends with an invitation for everyone to come visit the New Deity’s temple one of these days. You’ve never been there, but you know it is a relatively new building that has been erected not far from the castle during your father’s youth.
The other oracles speak a few words of blessing and wisdom, apparently delivered from the New Deity themselves. Most of them are common phrases, but one does stick out to you: “With the New Deity at your back, keep moving forward until you reach the horizon.” It could be a metaphor, to be sure, but it also sounds like a call to action - an expansionist one, at that.
You know that the New Deity is only worshipped by humans, and so naturally their teachings will appeal to them, but you hadn’t known whether they were explicitly anti-fae in sentiment. No one has said so directly, but you feel like certain implications do exist. Something to keep in mind, perhaps.
“This has been different from what I expected,” Thianne says as she gets up.
Behind you, you can hear Az’Lean yawning. “It was pretty boring, aside from that whole divine possession bit. In any case, we should go eat something, now that the majority of people are still here.”
You spend the rest of the evening sampling a variety of different foods and drinks from the stalls. The rose-shaped candies are a definite highlight. By the time you return to the castle, you feel about ready to pass out. Walking around in the heat all day and contemplating the Gods at the same time has you feeling quite light-headed.
<<if $route == 1>> [[You return to your room with a weight lifted off your shoulders. Tomorrow is your day off - no responsibilities, no one to tell you how to spend it. You feel like you really need this.|Chapter8A26]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>> [[You return to your room with a weight lifted off your shoulders. Tomorrow is your day off - no responsibilities, no one to tell you how to spend it. You feel like you really need this.|Chapter8B26]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>> [[You return to your room with a weight lifted off your shoulders. Tomorrow is your day off - no responsibilities, no one to tell you how to spend it. You feel like you really need this.|Chapter8C26]] <<endif>>\
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 11th of the Midday Moon
!!!Fourth Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
You start the fourth and final festival day with a leisurely breakfast. Your parents have joined you outside on the castle grounds, near where Az’Lean keeps his birds of prey, on a stone bench beneath a flowering archway. It looks like it will be another hot day, and even this early in the morning you’re glad to have found some shade.
A tray full of pastries, eggs and fruit is balanced delicately on your lap as you sit between your mother and father. Conversation between you three is light. You tell them about the shrines you visited yesterday; they tell you about all of the old friends they have run across so far.
“It is a shame that we can’t travel more, but I really don’t want to leave Grahm territory unattended for too long,” your father says. “Though for an occasion such as this, I am glad that we made an exception.”
“It feels like half of the kingdom’s citizens have all gathered in Gaitanis,” you say. “I wonder how smaller towns celebrate the solstice.”
“I’m sure good food, drink and music can be found anywhere, but you can’t find these types of theatre performances and royal speeches anywhere else. I am sure a lot of people came just to get a look at the King and Az’Lean,” your mother says while delicately placing slices of strawberries on a cream puff.
You keep chatting for a while. Apparently, your parents plan to spend a lot of time shopping today; it makes sense to save that for the final day. You remind them that Vynn will be performing this afternoon and they promise not to miss it.
“Do you have any plans for today?” your father asks. “It’s your day off, isn’t it?”
You nod. “There’s a few things I haven’t been able to do yet, what with always having to be on high alert. I will definitely go see Vynn’s performance, though. Maybe I’ll join you for some shopping later, maybe I’ll find someone else to spend the day with. Then there’s the dance, of course…”
Your mother’s eyes light up at the mere mention of it. “Oh, have you decided who to dance with? Don’t even think about dancing with one of us, $playername.”
Your father barks a laugh. “Don’t let her pressure you. If you really don’t want to dance with anyone else, we’ll always be an option.”
“Well, so far I haven’t asked anyone yet,” you admit. “That’s one more thing I need to do in time, or I really will be stuck with you two.”
“Don’t wait too long. If you’re thinking of asking Az’Lean or Vynn, you need to be quick about it. They’re likely to be asked by dozens of people,” your mother says, index finger raised in warning.
You smile wryly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
In truth, you get the feeling that the only person Az’Lean would agree to dance with is Thianne, and there’s no chance that she would be the one to ask. Similarly, Vynn is going to wait and see whether you have someone to dance with before agreeing to someone else’s offer. It’s what they’ve done for years now.
Once you are finished with your breakfast, you accompany your parents into town. You part ways once you reach the marketplace and you are left to your own devices. You have a few hours until Vynn’s performance starts.
What should you do first? Or better yet, who do you want to spend your day with?
Az'Lean deserves some time to himself as much as you do, not to mention that he's already planned his day around the fact that you won't be with him. You decide against seeking him out for now.
[[You could use a bit of a break. Maybe Thianne would join you for some tea?|Chapter8Thianne1]]
[[You decide to head to the marketplace. Vynn is likely to be somewhere near the main stage, getting ready for their performance.|Chapter8Vynn1]]
<<if $Lester > 60>>[[You have no clue where Lester might be, but if you ask around you're sure to find him. He does stand out quite a bit.|Chapter8Lester1]]<<endif>>!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 11th of the Midday Moon
!!!Fourth Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
You start the fourth and final festival day with a leisurely breakfast. Your parents have joined you outside on the castle grounds, near where Az’Lean keeps his birds of prey, on a stone bench beneath a flowering archway. It looks like it will be another hot day, and even this early in the morning you’re glad to have found some shade.
A tray full of pastries, eggs and fruit is balanced delicately on your lap as you sit between your mother and father. Conversation between you three is light. You tell them about the shrines you visited yesterday; they tell you about all of the old friends they have run across so far.
“It is a shame that we can’t travel more, but I really don’t want to leave Grahm territory unattended for too long,” your father says. “Though for an occasion such as this, I am glad that we made an exception.”
“It feels like half of the kingdom’s citizens have all gathered in Gaitanis,” you say. “I wonder how smaller towns celebrate the solstice.”
“I’m sure good food, drink and music can be found anywhere, but you can’t find these types of theatre performances and royal speeches anywhere else. I am sure a lot of people came just to get a look at the King and Az’Lean,” your mother says while delicately placing slices of strawberries on a cream puff.
You keep chatting for a while. Apparently, your parents plan to spend a lot of time shopping today; it makes sense to save that for the final day. You remind them that Vynn will be performing this afternoon and they promise not to miss it.
“Do you have any plans for today?” your father asks. “It’s your day off, isn’t it?”
You nod. “There’s a few things I haven’t been able to do yet, what with always having to follow the prince around. I will definitely go see Vynn’s performance, though. Maybe I’ll join you for some shopping later, maybe I’ll find someone else to spend the day with. Then there’s the dance, of course…”
Your mother’s eyes light up at the mere mention of it. “Oh, have you decided who to dance with? Don’t even think about dancing with one of us, $playername.”
Your father barks a laugh. “Don’t let her pressure you. If you really don’t want to dance with anyone else, we’ll always be an option.”
“Well, so far I haven’t asked anyone yet,” you admit. “That’s one more thing I need to do in time, or I really will be stuck with you two.”
“Don’t wait too long. If you’re thinking of asking Vynn, you need to be quick about it. They’re likely to be asked by dozens of people,” your mother says, index finger raised in warning.
You smile wryly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
In truth, Vynn is going to wait and see whether you have someone to dance with before agreeing to someone else’s offer. It’s what they’ve done for years now. You don't mention to your parents that you could always just ask the fae that is living in your room to dance - you don't doubt that Maeve would be up for it.
Once you are finished with your breakfast, you accompany your parents into town. You part ways once you reach the marketplace and you are left to your own devices. You have a few hours until Vynn’s performance starts.
What should you do first? Or better yet, who do you want to spend your day with?
Az'Lean deserves some time to himself as much as you do, not to mention that he's already planned his day around the fact that you won't be with him. You decide against seeking him out for now.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
[[You haven't had a chance to get some of Thianne's blood yet and you're running out of time...|Chapter8blood1]]
<<else>>
[[You could use a bit of a break. Maybe Thianne would join you for some tea?|Chapter8Thianne1]]
[[You decide to head to the marketplace. Vynn is likely to be somewhere near the main stage, getting ready for their performance.|Chapter8Vynn1]]
[[You have no clue where Lester might be, but if you ask around you're sure to find him. He does stand out quite a bit.|Chapter8Lester1]]
[[You'll relax in your room and chat with Maeve.|Chapter8Maeve1]]
<<endif>>!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 11th of the Midday Moon
!!!Fourth Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
You start the fourth and final festival day with a leisurely breakfast. Your parents have joined you outside on the castle grounds, near where Az’Lean keeps his birds of prey, on a stone bench beneath a flowering archway. It looks like it will be another hot day, and even this early in the morning you’re glad to have found some shade.
A tray full of pastries, eggs and fruit is balanced delicately on your lap as you sit between your mother and father. Conversation between you three is light. You tell them about the shrines you visited yesterday; they tell you about all of the old friends they have run across so far.
“It is a shame that we can’t travel more, but I really don’t want to leave Grahm territory unattended for too long,” your father says. “Though for an occasion such as this, I am glad that we made an exception.”
“It feels like half of the kingdom’s citizens have all gathered in Gaitanis,” you say. “I wonder how smaller towns celebrate the solstice.”
“I’m sure good food, drink and music can be found anywhere, but you can’t find these types of theatre performances and royal speeches anywhere else. I am sure a lot of people came just to get a look at the King and Az’Lean,” your mother says while delicately placing slices of strawberries on a cream puff.
You keep chatting for a while. Apparently, your parents plan to spend a lot of time shopping today; it makes sense to save that for the final day. You remind them that Vynn will be performing this afternoon and they promise not to miss it.
“Do you have any plans for today?” your father asks. “It’s your day off, isn’t it?”
You nod. “There’s a few things I haven’t been able to do yet, what with always being on duty. I will definitely go see Vynn’s performance, though. Maybe I’ll join you for some shopping later, maybe I’ll find someone else to spend the day with. Then there’s the dance, of course…”
Your mother’s eyes light up at the mere mention of it. “Oh, have you decided who to dance with? Don’t even think about dancing with one of us, $playername.”
Your father barks a laugh. “Don’t let her pressure you. If you really don’t want to dance with anyone else, we’ll always be an option.”
“Well, so far I haven’t asked anyone yet,” you admit. “That’s one more thing I need to do in time, or I really will be stuck with you two.”
“Don’t wait too long. If you’re thinking of asking Az’Lean or Vynn, you need to be quick about it. They’re likely to be asked by dozens of people,” your mother says, index finger raised in warning.
You smile wryly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
In truth, you get the feeling that the only person Az’Lean would agree to dance with is Thianne, and there’s no chance that she would be the one to ask. Similarly, Vynn is going to wait and see whether you have someone to dance with before agreeing to someone else’s offer. It’s what they’ve done for years now.
Once you are finished with your breakfast, you accompany your parents into town. You part ways once you reach the marketplace and you are left to your own devices. You have a few hours until Vynn’s performance starts.
What should you do first? Or better yet, who do you want to spend your day with?
Az'Lean deserves some time to himself as much as you do, not to mention that he's already planned his day around the fact that you won't be with him. You decide against seeking him out for now.
<<if $Thianneknows == "yes">>
[[You haven't had a chance to get some of Thianne's blood yet and you're running out of time...|Chapter8blood1]]
<<else>>
[[You could use a bit of a break. Maybe Thianne would join you for some tea?|Chapter8Thianne1]]
[[You decide to head to the marketplace. Vynn is likely to be somewhere near the main stage, getting ready for their performance.|Chapter8Vynn1]]
[[You have no clue where Lester might be, but if you ask around you're sure to find him. He does stand out quite a bit.|Chapter8Lester1]]
[[You decide to stop by the gardens, see if there's an opportunity to catch up with Maeve.|Chapter8Maeve2]]
<<endif>>You arrive with some time to spare for Vynn’s performance. As it turns out, being the Champion does have its perks, as everyone lets you move through the crowd undisturbed until you’re standing directly in front of the stage. You can see Vynn tuning their lute in the back, and they shoot you a dazzling grin when they spot you in the audience.
Now that you’ve secured a good spot, you take a minute to survey the scene. A decent number of people have shown up, though you aren’t sure whether they’re here specifically to hear Vynn. You immediately spot your parents among them, sitting at a table in the back. Lady Westwale is with them too.
Vynn’s parents, however, are nowhere to be seen. Of their siblings you only spot Rohan and Miche, standing not too far from you in the crowd. Your gaze wanders to the balcony across the marketplace, but it’s empty. You can’t help but wonder where Az’Lean is or what he’s doing, not that it matters right now. It’s your day off and Vynn is performing - that’s the only thing that you should be concerning yourself with.
Once Vynn has finished tuning their lute, they walk over to you, hunching down on the stage so you can talk face to face.
“Thanks for coming, $playername,” they say. Their face is glowing with excitement, no trace of nervousness to be seen.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Vynn. Do you feel ready? This is quite the crowd, after all.”
They look around as if only now realising just how many people there really are. Still, they simply shrug. “I am glad to be sharing my music with this many people, but actually, this is for me more than anything. It’s something I want to express, something I want to get off my chest, so I don’t really care if anyone else enjoys it or what they think. Though, I do hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will. If this is you sharing your feelings, then I have even more reason to listen carefully. You deserve to be heard, Vynn,” you say, despite how impactful those words feel leaving your mouth. It is simply the truth.
Vynn’s grin widens. “Did you get those words from a fortune teller? In any case, it’s the right thing to say. Thank you, $playername.”
They take a deep breath, gripping their lute tightly, before heading to the centre of the stage. Someone comes up to them and casts a brief enchantment to better project the sound of their lute as well as their voice.
“Thank you everyone for showing up and listening to me play,” Vynn says and the crowd quiets down. “My name is Vynn, and I hope to be entertaining you for the next hour. This first song is called <i>Honey Love</i>. I’m sure the title is self-explanatory, but I would like to add that this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular, so none of you get your hopes up.”
A few people in the crowd laugh as Vynn takes a deep breath and gets into position.
[[Slightly shaking hands strum the first chord and Vynn’s performance begins.|Chapter8A28]]<i>
Meadows stretching far and wide,
There’s no place for us to hide
Our love.
Let misfortune be our guide,
Show me what you keep inside,
My love.
Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.</i>
Vynn stops singing for a moment, letting the lute’s music speak for itself. The melody they are playing is whimsical and wistful at the same time. The audience seems captivated and you’re impressed that they haven’t missed a single note so far. Vynn has always been a talented musician and you’ve heard them play for years now, so you can tell how much time they must’ve spent practising this. The performance is as close to perfect as it can get.
Even now that they’re a knight, they’re putting as much effort and time as possible into their music. For a moment you can’t help but worry how their parents will respond - it’s likely they’ll consider this a waste of time. You hope they’ll at the very least keep their opinions to themselves. All Vynn should be hearing today is applause.
They continue with the next verse:
<i>There’s just one thing I can’t abide,
Don’t look at me all teary-eyed,
My love.
I do not care what you decide,
I will not have it be denied,
Our love.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, we will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I am yours and you are mine.</i>
The song ends on a purposefully discordant note, letting a chill run down your spine. The audience wastes no time with their applause, moderate at first, but increasing in volume as more and more people have come to appreciate the song’s ending. The element of dread that accompanied this otherwise typical love song must have left an impression indeed.
“Thank you!” Vynn says, taking a moment to compose themselves. Their face is flushed from excitement. “Love is certainly a tricky subject. This next song deals with it as well, among other things. It is called: Peace and War.”
The song’s intro is lengthy and entirely instrumental, creating a sombre atmosphere. It succeeds at getting everyone in the crowd to quiet down and creates a foreboding tension. When Vynn opens their mouth and hits that first note, the speed increases, and the build-up continues.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
And yet I see how far I’ve strayed in my attempt to persuade.</i>
Vynn’s voice turns breathy at the end and the song changes tempo, just for a brief moment.
<i>No words can reach a heart of stone,
No point in trying to atone.</i>
They strum their lute with astonishing dexterity and speed, and once again the song begins building tension, repeating the same verse as before. It’s a steady climb, and you can feel everyone waiting for the drop.
<i>Love and hate and peace and war,
Whether to worship or adore.</i>
The drop is harsh and sudden, delivered at the very end of the song so as to deny any sort of relief from the tension.
<i>Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The song ends abruptly, as though the last line itself had been sung with Vynn’s last breath. The audience is silent for a second, stunned by the suddenness of it all. You are one of the first people to begin clapping, and soon the rest joins in as well.
You notice that the mood is beginning to shift. This song too was filled with a pervasive sense of dread, and while the audience appears to be captivated and appreciative, it would be wrong to say that they’re having fun.
This might not be the sort of performance one would expect on a joyful festival like this one, but Vynn did say that this was simply them expressing themselves. What, then, does it mean, that both of their songs so far have been filled with a feeling of looming tragedy?
Vynn swiftly moves on to the next few songs, this time covering known and beloved classics. Even now, however, the songs they decide to play are all melancholy. War ballads bemoaning the loss of comrades, love songs that express deep longing or loneliness, and a few satirical pieces that hide deep dissatisfaction beneath a thin veneer of humour.
Soon you realise that the make-up of the crowd itself has shifted. Families with children seem to have left, instead there seem to be a large number of older knights who have taken an interest in Vynn’s performance.
“As much as I would like to keep playing indefinitely, it is now time for my final song. It is a hymn, dedicated to the future of our kingdom. The title is: Hymn of the Iron Heart.”
The song begins like a typical hymn, full of triumph and pride, but at this point you already expect there to be a sombre turn sooner or later.
<i>She stands so tall with scythe and sword
She’s facing down the en’my horde
Our Kingdom Gaiapeia.
She waves the flag, signals attack,
What’s stolen will be taken back,
Our lives for Gaiapaia.
With iron will deep in our hearts,
With wit and might in equal parts,
Let’s fight for Gaiapeia.</i>
At this point, the tone begins to shift. The song slows down and Vynn’s voice drops into a breathy whisper, still carried far by the magic enhancing their volume.
<i>The future is dark, and then it’s not.
Your light leads us through sorrow.
Keep moving forward even after you’re shot.
Keep moving forward tomorrow.</i>
The song picks back up again as if nothing ever happened, returning abruptly to its triumphant melody.
<i>You will reap what you did sow
All it takes is time to grow,
The rage of Gaiapeia.
Emptiness and hate within,
Who’s friend, who’s foe, who’s next of kin,
Don’t lose hope, Gaiapeia.
With steel in hand and steel in chest,
No time to lay our swords to rest,
Just smite them, Gaiapeia.</i>
Vynn keeps playing the same tune for a while, letting the hymn speak for itself. Without any vocals, it does sound much more heroic, and less desperate. It doesn’t last, of course, and Vynn ends the song with a few final, mood shattering words.
<i>The future is dark, and then it’s not.
The sun will rise again.
Keep moving forward even after you’re shot.
Keep moving forward, and then? </i>
They hum the melody a few times, before finally playing the last chord and letting it echo across the marketplace.
As you applaud with the rest of the crowd, you can’t help but feel…
[[Inspired. Your heart burns with passion and triumph.|Chapter8A29]]
[[Unsettled. That song struck a chord with you, but it’s reverberating with dread and unease.|Chapter8A29]]
[[Unmoved. It was a good song in technical terms, but it meant nothing to you on a personal level.|Chapter8A29]]You watch as Vynn bows repeatedly, clearly out of breath at this point.
“Thank you all so much for listening!” they say a few times, seemingly unsure when or how to make their exit. After a while, they simply shuffle backwards off the stage, lute cradled in their arms.
You aren’t quite sure whether it’d be fine for you to go behind the stage, so you simply hang around and wait. The crowd disperses somewhat, though a good number of people stick around to see whatever is up next.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually Vynn appears from behind the stage, their unruly curls dripping with water and a cloth hung around their neck. It’s no wonder that they needed to cool off, even just standing here in a crowd is making you sweat. The heat has gotten downright sweltering - truthfully you can’t wait for the sun to set.
Vynn spots you immediately and all but barrels into you. “That was exhilarating,” they say, bumping their shoulder into yours. “If it wasn’t also so exhausting I’d have loved to keep going.”
“You were great, Vynn,” you say, not mentioning it when their wet hair starts dripping into your shoulder. “You really had the crowd enthralled.”
Vynn laughs happily. “If you say so! I could tell they were a bit surprised by the direction of my songs at points, but I do think they enjoyed them. I’m just glad everything went off without a hitch. My biggest worry was a string suddenly snapping, or something like that.”
“Sure enough, your performance was pretty much perfect,” you say and watch as Vynn practically glows at the praise. “Want to get something to drink? Your throat must be done for.”
They seem to consider it for a moment before shaking their head. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I need to retreat for a little bit. Gotta get my lute back to my room, maybe put on some fresh clothes, take a leak… But I’ll be back tonight. Wouldn’t miss the dance for anything.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. Right, the dance. You should probably decide who to ask, at this point.
Vynn waves you goodbye as they head off towards the castle. You look for a place to sit down by yourself, hopefully to be able to think for a minute about the question that has been bouncing around in your head all day.
Who should you ask to dance with you tonight? You consider your options for a moment. Even setting aside whether you're thinking about romantic attraction or just the desire to become closer with them, as friends or otherwise...
Vynn is always an option. You know they'll say yes. Dancing with them would be comfortable, safe, and guaranteed fun.
You're still not quite sure where you stand with Az'Lean. Then again, asking him to dance should communicate to him quite clearly that you want to be closer - sincerely. It would be up to him to accept, of course. You're not sure if he will.
Thianne is probably going to turn down most people. She might not even be willing to dance at all. You do think you get along fine with her, though, so maybe there's a chance. You're not sure.
Lester... He might agree, but you don't think it would be genuine. You could risk it regardless.
You stare up at the sky, pondering your options. No matter who you ask, you'll also have to decide how to ask them. Whether to make it obvious that you're simply asking platonically, leaving it open, or maybe even explicitly... You nip the thought in the bud. Should you be really considering any of these options romantically at a time like this?
One decision at a time.
If you think about dancing with someone, deepening your bond, intertwining your destinies (allegedly), you'd want it to be...
[[Vynn.|Chapter8A30V]]
[[Az'Lean.|Chapter8A30A]]
[[Thianne.|Chapter8A30T]]
[[Lester.|Chapter8A30L]]
[[Not any of them... Your thoughts drift. You wonder what the gardens look like now that the willow is gone.|Chapter8A30M]]
During the early evening hours, when the heat has finally begun to lessen just a bit, you find yourself back on the balcony from the previous day, watching the stage. Az’Lean and the king are sitting somewhere in the back, speaking quietly to each other, while you sit in the front next to Thianne. In a matter of minutes, a sermon about the New Deity will be held on the stage.
While the Old Gods had their shrines spread around the city, the New Deity - or their believers, at least - have laid claim to the stage on the market place. You suppose it makes sense, considering that a lot of people will be interested in hearing this. The New Deity has completely replaced the Old Gods for many humans. You wonder how that came to be, is faith truly such a fickle thing? Maybe listening to this sermon will reveal something.
“Do you believe in the New Deity?” you ask Thianne conversationally.
She raises an eyebrow as she looks at you. “Do I look like the religious type to you? Even if they are real, they’re clearly not interested in interactin’ with us, so why should I care? No, my interest in religion is purely academic.”
“So you are also wondering how the New Deity has managed to garner this much support in just a few decades?”
“My theory is that growin’ tensions with the fae made people look towards the Old Gods with suspicion or contempt. They wanted a religious figure that served solely humans, that had nothing to do with fae or old myths. The New Deity happened to fill that void perfectly. Interestin’, isn’t it?” Thianne narrows her eyes as she looks towards the stage. “I very much doubt this deity is real, but that makes it all the more fascinatin’ to me.”
That much you agree with. The Old Gods have always been around, and while their impartiality may be frustrating, it makes sense. But a deity that suddenly appears and only cares about humanity? It seem like an obvious fabrication to further disparage the fae and anything associated with them. Then again, should the New Deity be real, what would that mean for you and the rest of the fae? That there's a god-like being actively working against you? Concerning, to say the least.
A group of six clerics take the stage. You wonder why a sermon would require that many of them - perhaps they will take turns? They are all dressed in beige robes that trail on the ground behind them. None of them have their hoods up, though you don’t fault them for it in this heat.
One of the clerics, an older man, moves to the centre of the stage first. He holds up both of his hands and the crowd below quiets down.
“Greetings,” he says after clearing his throat. His voice has been magically enhanced and echoes throughout the entire marketplace. You note that it sounds deep and melodious, and you can imagine that people enjoy listening to him.
“I am Grand Cleric Armin, and I will be presenting the New Deity’s will and provenance this evening. We hope to foster understanding and bring their teachings closer to all of you. There will be time to answer questions at the end, for this should be as much a conversation as it is a sermon. We derive all of our knowledge from our most trusted oracles, who have been able to commune directly with the New Deity, so rest assured that we are delivering their words to you as directly as we are able.” He gestures towards the other clerics behind him.
“So they are oracles,” Thianne mutters quietly to herself.
“It was over one hundred years ago when the first human was able to hear the New Deity’s voice,” the cleric continues. “They made themself known with a greeting and a promise of help, for they had seen humanity’s suffering. It is our want and our need for godly grace and protection that made the New Deity join us in this realm. Perhaps it is what manifested them in the first place. As such, it is our duty to honour this connection. They have come into being to support us, and so we must support and worship them in turn. Much as our beloved King protects us and leads us to prosperity, so too plays the New Deity a similar role in our lives.”
A wave of interested and appreciative murmurs makes its way through the crowd as the cleric pauses. You can't help but frown.
Thianne rolls her eyes. “I wonder, in what way has the New Deity helped us, exactly?”
[[“People are going to attribute any kind of good fortune to them,” you say. “It devalues the hard work that goes into actually improving the world.”|Chapter8B24A]]
[[“Maybe humanity does have some secret benefactor,” you say. “It’s possible, and would explain some things.”|Chapter8B24B]]
[[“Even if they are real and have helped humanity, isn’t this strangely transactional? A king collects taxes - what would a deity get in return for offering us aid?” you wonder.|Chapter8B24C]]
During the early evening hours, when the heat has finally begun to lessen just a bit, you find yourself back on the balcony from the previous day, watching the stage. Az’Lean and the king are sitting somewhere in the back, speaking quietly to each other, while you sit in the front next to Thianne. In a matter of minutes, a sermon about the New Deity will be held on the stage.
While the Old Gods had their shrines spread around the city, the New Deity - or their believers, at least - have laid claim to the stage on the market place. You suppose it makes sense, considering that a lot of people will be interested in hearing this. The New Deity has completely replaced the Old Gods for many humans, though you wonder how that came to be. Is faith truly such a fickle thing? Maybe listening to this sermon will reveal something.
“Do you believe in the New Deity?” you ask Thianne conversationally.
She raises an eyebrow as she looks at you. “Do I look like the religious type to you? Even if they are real, they’re clearly not interested in interactin’ with us, so why should I care? No, my interest in religion is purely academic.”
“So you are also wondering how the New Deity has managed to garner this much support in just a few decades?”
“My theory is that growin’ tensions with the fae made people look towards the Old Gods with suspicion or contempt. They wanted a religious figure that served solely humans, that had nothing to do with fae or old myths. The New Deity happened to fill that void perfectly. Interestin’, isn’t it?” Thianne narrows her eyes as she looks towards the stage. “I very much doubt this deity is real, but that makes it all the more fascinatin’ to me.”
That much you agree with. You wonder whether the fae think humans are idiots for believing in something like that. Then again, should the New Deity be real, what would that mean for humanity? That their desires were able to manifest the creation of a new godly being? That seems just a little unfair.
A group of six clerics take the stage. You wonder why a sermon would require that many of them - perhaps they will take turns? They are all dressed in beige robes that trail on the ground behind them. None of them have their hoods up, though you don’t fault them for it in this heat.
One of the clerics, an older man, moves to the centre of the stage first. He holds up both of his hands and the crowd below quiets down.
“Greetings,” he says after clearing his throat. His voice has been magically enhanced and echoes throughout the entire marketplace. You note that it sounds deep and melodious, and you can imagine that people enjoy listening to him.
“I am Grand Cleric Armin, and I will be presenting the New Deity’s will and provenance this evening. We hope to foster understanding and bring their teachings closer to all of you. There will be time to answer questions at the end, for this should be as much a conversation as it is a sermon. We derive all of our knowledge from our most trusted oracles, who have been able to commune directly with the New Deity, so rest assured that we are delivering their words to you as directly as we are able.” He gestures towards the other clerics behind him.
“So they are oracles,” Thianne mutters quietly to herself.
“It was over one hundred years ago when the first human was able to hear the New Deity’s voice,” the cleric continues. “They made themself known with a greeting and a promise of help, for they had seen humanity’s suffering. It is our want and our need for godly grace and protection that made the New Deity join us in this realm. Perhaps it is what manifested them in the first place. As such, it is our duty to honour this connection. They have come into being to support us, and so we must support and worship them in turn. Much as our beloved King protects us and leads us to prosperity, so too plays the New Deity a similar role in our lives.”
A wave of interested and appreciative murmurs makes its way through the crowd as the cleric pauses.
Thianne rolls her eyes. “I wonder, in what way has the New Deity helped us, exactly?”
[[“People are going to attribute any kind of good fortune to them,” you say. “It devalues the hard work that goes into actually improving the world.”|Chapter8C24A]]
[[“Maybe they truly have helped humanity. It’s not like we’d be able to tell,” you say. “It’s possible.”|Chapter8C24B]]
[[“Even if they are real and have helped humanity, isn’t this strangely transactional? A king collects taxes - what would a deity get in return for offering... <i>us</i> aid?” you wonder.|Chapter8C24C]]
Thianne snorts. “Of which you and I surely contribute at least a fifth each. Maybe sorcerers should be revered instead; I wouldn’t mind ascendin’ to Godhood.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne hums thoughtfully. “You make a good point, $playername. I wonder whether that’s going to come up in the sermon at all.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne - 5>>\
Thianne gives you a disappointed look. “I suppose barely anything is actually impossible when it comes to magic and divinity. Still, I don’t see a reason to believe it.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]Thianne snorts. “Of which you and I surely contribute at least a fifth each. Maybe sorcerers should be revered instead; I wouldn’t mind ascendin’ to Godhood.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
<<set $Thianne to $Thianne - 5>>\
Thianne gives you a disappointed look. “I suppose barely anything is actually impossible when it comes to magic and divinity. Still, I don’t see a reason to believe it.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]<<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 5>>\
Thianne hums thoughtfully. “You make a good point, $playername. I wonder whether that’s going to come up in the sermon at all.”
The old man continues: “The New Deity has our best interests at heart, for they are benevolent and kind. Let us hear how they have helped us, straight from one of our magnificent oracles.”
One of the other clerics steps forward - a young woman with short blonde hair. She gives a bow and begins to speak. As she does so, her voice has a reverberating quality to it, though it is likely just a side-effect of amplifying her volume through magic.
“I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to so many of you today,” she says. “The New Deity has been visiting me for a few years now, and they have helped our town prosper tremendously. Let me tell you of their miracles, for they are more real than anything the Old Gods have shown us in decades.”
She goes on to describe swift recoveries from illness, prosperous harvests and other such fortunes that can’t ever be proven to be miracles or not. You notice Thianne rapidly losing interest in what’s being said, when the oracle suddenly stops mid sentence.
It looks like she’s suddenly frozen stiff, standing there on the stage without so much as blinking.
“Well,” she suddenly says, “you’re not going to convince anyone with that.”
You notice there’s a slightly different cadence to her voice and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat.
“None of that is conclusive evidence, and half of that surely wasn’t due to my influence at all,” the oracle says and laughs. The other clerics around her suddenly fall to their knees, staring at her in reverence.
“The New Deity is speaking through her directly!” the old man shouts, all but stirring the crowd into a frenzy.
“I felt the need to speak for myself, seeing as you’re not doing a particularly good job of it. Though it is true, of course. I have taken an interest in humanity, and I promise you my aid for the dark days to come. So go on, take notice of my existence.”
The oracle spreads out her arms and for a moment it is quieter than you have ever heard it be in this city. Everyone present is hanging on to her every word.
She collapses without so much as a sound, falling to a heap on the stage. Immediately the other clerics rush to her side and try to escort her off the stage.
Thianne scoffs, even as the masses erupt in excited chatter. “This is staged, clear as day,” she says.
[[She’s right, of course.|Chapter8.25]]
[[Or is she?|Chapter8.25]]
<<set $gods to "yes">>\
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 10th of the Midday Moon
!!!Third Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
<i>'The Old Gods' has been added to images.</i>
The third day of the festival is reserved for religious matters. As such, shrines have been erected around the city dedicated to various Goddesses and Gods. There are exhibitions pertaining to them as well as sermons being held. Maeve seems particularly interested in the ways humans depict the Gods, and you promise to tell her all about it tonight.
It is very early when Az’Lean drags you through the still mostly empty streets. Only the bakeries have opened so far and the two of you grab some breakfast on the way to your destination. Apparently, Az’Lean wanted to visit the shrine dedicated to Wyrd as early as possible to avoid a large number of people seeing him there. You suppose as far as religious experiences are concerned, it makes sense to wish for some peace and quiet.
While there are a few chapels dedicated to the Old Gods, they usually aren’t reserved for only one particular God. Today, one such chapel near the outskirts of Gaitanis has been dedicated solely to Wyrd, the Goddess of Fate. There are maps hung up around the city, detailing where all of these shrines are located - one glance at it reveals that they are spread out mostly evenly in what appears to be a pentagram formation.
The chapel is tucked away in a small, cosy street, hidden beneath the shadow of Gaitanis’ massive outer wall. It is a small building made of sandstone with ornate stained glass windows depicting sceneries of nature. Despite what Az’Lean had hoped for, there are already a few visitors milling about. Right at the entrance of the chapel is a large framed picture of Wyrd - or one of her depictions, at least. After all, no one really knows what she looks like.
In this picture, Wyrd has been painted as a very regal, middle-aged woman sitting behind an old spinning wheel. She’s wearing a dark purple cloak that drapes behind her and seems to be covered in constellations and crescent moons. You note that she resembles a human - no pointed ears.
“How much do you know about Wyrd?” Az’Lean asks as you step inside the chapel. The interior is dark and freezing, and you can’t suppress a slight shiver.
“Not a lot,” you admit. “I know she’s the Goddess of Fate and that she weaves all events, past and future, into tapestries, keeping them as records.”
Az’Lean nods. He leads you past a number of other visitors to a certain exhibit containing Wyrd. Behind a shimmering magical barrier an old, tattered tapestry is hung on the chapel wall. Its texture is like nothing you’ve ever seen before - you couldn’t even guess what type of material this has been woven from.
“They say this is a tapestry Wyrd wove when the Old Gods still walked this earth. It must be many centuries older than the kingdom itself,” Az’Lean explains as you cautiously step closer. “That it’s been preserved this long is frankly a miracle. It’s difficult to tell what this tapestry depicts. This scene could be from the past, or it could be from the future.”
You take a closer look at it. The tapestry depicts a disaster or battle of some kind, though you can’t make out any details. The only thing you can identify with certainty are swords on the ground and dead trees in the background.
[[Whatever this shows, you don’t like it.|Chapter8B20]]
[[Whatever this shows, it fills you with rage.|Chapter8B20]]
[[Whatever this shows, it makes you feel determined.|Chapter8B20]]<<set $gods to "yes">>\
!!The Kingdom of Gaiapeia, Gaitanis
!!!Year 929, 10th of the Midday Moon
!!!Third Day of the Summer Solstice Festival
<i>'The Old Gods' has been added to images.</i>
The third day of the festival is reserved for religious matters. As such, shrines have been erected around the city dedicated to various Goddesses and Gods. There are exhibitions pertaining to them as well as sermons being held.
It is very early when Az’Lean drags you through the still mostly empty streets. Only the bakeries have opened so far and the two of you grab some breakfast on the way to your destination. Apparently, Az’Lean wanted to visit the shrine dedicated to Wyrd as early as possible to avoid a large number of people seeing him there. You suppose as far as religious experiences are concerned, it makes sense to wish for some peace and quiet.
While there are a few chapels dedicated to the Old Gods, they usually aren’t reserved for only one particular God. Today, one such chapel near the outskirts of Gaitanis has been dedicated solely to Wyrd, the Goddess of Fate. There are maps hung up around the city, detailing where all of these shrines are located - one glance at it reveals that they are spread out mostly evenly in what appears to be a pentagram formation.
The chapel is tucked away in a small, cosy street, hidden beneath the shadow of Gaitanis’ massive outer wall. It is a small building made of sandstone with ornate stained glass windows depicting sceneries of nature. Despite what Az’Lean had hoped for, there are already a few visitors milling about. Right at the entrance of the chapel is a large framed picture of Wyrd - or one of her depictions, at least. After all, no one really knows what she looks like.
In this picture, Wyrd has been painted as a very regal, middle-aged woman sitting behind an old spinning wheel. She’s wearing a dark purple cloak that drapes behind her and seems to be covered in constellations and crescent moons. You note that she's depcited as a human - no pointed ears or other fae features.
“How much do you know about Wyrd?” Az’Lean asks as you step inside the chapel. The interior is dark and freezing, and you can’t suppress a slight shiver.
“Not a lot,” you admit. “I know she’s the Goddess of Fate and that she weaves all events, past and future, into tapestries, keeping them as records.”
Az’Lean nods. He leads you past a number of other visitors to a certain exhibit containing Wyrd. Behind a shimmering magical barrier an old, tattered tapestry is hung on the chapel wall. Its texture is like nothing you’ve ever seen before - you couldn’t even guess what type of material this has been woven from.
“They say this is a tapestry Wyrd wove when the Old Gods still walked this earth. It must be many centuries older than the kingdom itself,” Az’Lean explains as you cautiously step closer. “That it’s been preserved this long is frankly a miracle. It’s difficult to tell what this tapestry depicts. This scene could be from the past, or it could be from the future.”
You take a closer look at it. The tapestry depicts a disaster or battle of some kind, though you can’t make out any details. The only thing you can identify with certainty are swords on the ground and dead trees in the background.
[[Whatever this shows, you don’t like it.|Chapter8C20]]
[[Whatever this shows, it fills you with rage.|Chapter8C20]]
[[Whatever this shows, it makes you feel determined.|Chapter8C20]]As you gaze at the tapestry, you hear a cleric tell a story about Wyrd to some of the other visitors. You can’t help but overhear.
“Wyrd is not only known as the Goddess of Fate, but also as the Goddess of Learning and the Truth. It is said that she once befriended a human historian since she was impressed with their desire to learn from the past. She helped them build a giant library. Whenever the historian asked for Wyrd to share her knowledge with them, she simply laughed in response. ‘The reason why I find you admirable is the futility of your work,’ she said. ‘No matter how large your library is, you will never be able to collect all of the world’s knowledge. Even if you were immortal you wouldn’t be able to. That you still try regardless is beautiful. So keep on working, even knowing that I have all the answers and yet won’t ever share them with you.’ At that, the historian grew frustrated, but it was a truth they had to accept. Fate and the Future are only for Wyrd to know, and for us to live.”
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “I figure Wyrd has a bit of a mean streak, wouldn’t you say?”
“It begs the question if that’s just a part of her personality or if perhaps all gods find humans amusing. We must seem pretty stupid to them,” you say carefully.
“I have no doubt Wyrd laughs at me as well, if she even gets any of my prayers,” Az’Lean says. “I suppose knowing how everything ends makes it difficult for her to care about anything. Like when you know that at the end of the book the hero lives, so you don’t feel anything whenever they’re put in danger. You know they’ll live one way or the other.”
“Are you praying to her in the hopes of learning about your fate, or changing it?” you ask.
Az’Lean stares at you. “Fate isn’t changeable, which is why there’s no point asking about it. No, I pray to let Wyrd know how much I hate the path that’s been laid out before me. I complain to her, not because I expect her to change anything on my account, but just because I feel like I should let her know that she’s being unfair.”
What a curious answer, though you suppose the futility of it all but guarantees that Wyrd truly would be laughing at Az’Lean if she were to receive his prayers.
“So you believe in determinism? That your future is already written and there’s no changing it?” you ask, finding the thought of it disturbing. You feel like you have free will, at least to some degree. You can’t change your circumstances or who you are, of course, but you can always decide how to react to things that happen to you.
“That’s right. I believe fully in fate. That’s why I pray to Wyrd - she knows what has happened to me and what will happen to me, so I’m sure she understands me. I resent the fact that she simply exists somewhere, watching our lives play out, keeping a record of it but doing nothing benevolent for us at all - at the same time, it’s comforting to know that someone out there understands and remembers. Through her I feel seen. I feel known.”
The blue of Az’Lean’s eyes dims a bit as he looks around the chapel. Is he searching for her presence? For answers she will never give him?
You feel like there’s not much point debating about the Gods and their whims, but you feel like you can understand where Az’Lean’s… well, you wouldn’t really call it faith, but where his connection to Wyrd is coming from. To be understood is a powerful thing.
As for your own thoughts on the matter…
[[Maybe fate and destiny are real, and you are simply walking the path you are meant to walk.|Chapter8B21]]
[[You don’t believe in fate at all. People are fully responsible for their choices and their actions.|Chapter8B21]]
[[Fate, the Gods - there’s no way to tell what’s real and what’s not. It doesn’t really concern you either way.|Chapter8B21]]As you gaze at the tapestry, you hear a cleric tell a story about Wyrd to some of the other visitors. You can’t help but overhear.
“Wyrd is not only known as the Goddess of Fate, but also as the Goddess of Learning and the Truth. It is said that she once befriended a human historian since she was impressed with their desire to learn from the past. She helped them build a giant library. Whenever the historian asked for Wyrd to share her knowledge with them, she simply laughed in response. ‘The reason why I find you admirable is the futility of your work,’ she said. ‘No matter how large your library is, you will never be able to collect all of the world’s knowledge. Even if you were immortal you wouldn’t be able to. That you still try regardless is beautiful. So keep on working, even knowing that I have all the answers and yet won’t ever share them with you.’ At that, the historian grew frustrated, but it was a truth they had to accept. Fate and the Future are only for Wyrd to know, and for us to live.”
Az’Lean smiles wryly. “I figure Wyrd has a bit of a mean streak, wouldn’t you say?”
“It begs the question if that’s just a part of her personality or if perhaps all gods find humans amusing. We must seem pretty stupid to them,” you say with a shrug. You wonder whether the distinction of human and fae matters to the Gods at all - it would feel petty if it did.
“I have no doubt Wyrd laughs at me as well, if she even gets any of my prayers,” Az’Lean says. “I suppose knowing how everything ends makes it difficult for her to care about anything. Like when you know that at the end of the book the hero lives, so you don’t feel anything whenever they’re put in danger. You know he’ll live one way or the other.”
“Are you praying to her in the hopes of learning about your fate, or changing it?” you ask.
Az’Lean stares at you. “Fate isn’t changeable, which is why there’s no point asking about it. No, I pray to let Wyrd know how much I hate the path that’s been laid out before me. I complain to her, not because I expect her to change anything on my account, but just because I feel like I should let her know that she’s being unfair.”
What a curious answer, though you suppose the futility of it all but guarantees that Wyrd truly would be laughing at Az’Lean if she were to receive his prayers.
“So you believe in determinism? That your future is already written and there’s no changing it?” you ask, finding the thought of it disturbing. You feel like you have free will, at least to some degree. You can’t change your circumstances or who you are, of course, but you can always decide how to react to things that happen to you.
“That’s right. I believe fully in fate. That’s why I pray to Wyrd - she knows what has happened to me and what will happen to me, so I’m sure she understands me. I resent the fact that she simply exists somewhere, watching our lives play out, keeping a record of it but doing nothing benevolent for us at all - at the same time, it’s comforting to know that someone out there understands and remembers. Through her I feel seen. I feel known.”
The blue of Az’Lean’s eyes dims a bit as he looks around the chapel. Is he searching for her presence? For answers she will never give him?
You feel like there’s not much point debating about the Gods and their whims, but you feel like you can understand where Az’Lean’s… well, you wouldn’t really call it faith, but where his connection to Wyrd is coming from. To be understood is a powerful thing.
As for your own thoughts on the matter…
[[Maybe fate and destiny are real, and you are simply walking the path you are meant to walk.|Chapter8C21]]
[[You don’t believe in fate at all. People are fully responsible for their choices and their actions.|Chapter8C21]]
[[Fate, the Gods - there’s no way to tell what’s real and what’s not. It doesn’t really concern you either way.|Chapter8C21]]Deeper in the chapel, there are large pages hung up on the wall, detailing Wyrd’s origin story. Az’Lean already knows it, so he walks past them, but you sneak a glance at them.
You read that Wyrd and the other Old Gods came to be when the magic of the lands gained a sense of self and became conscious. There were twelve of them in total, but even so they became lonely and wished for more company, thus creating humans and the fae. While they were lesser beings than them, they still lived together with the Gods for quite some time until they were numerous and intelligent enough to no longer need their guidance.
It is believed that nowadays, the Gods reside fully in the Otherworld - realm of the dead, realm of all magic.
You wonder whether they grew bored of humans and fae. What do they think of them now? Surely they wouldn't want their creations to annihilate each other like this. Surely they wouldn't support how the kingdom has been treating the land and the fae.
As you tour the chapel, you look at a few more depictions of Wyrd. She’s always presented as a woman, sometimes young, sometimes old. The spinning wheel is another constant, but her clothing varies a lot, as well as the background. Sometimes she’s floating in the night sky, sometimes she’s sitting atop a stone tower, sometimes she’s in a field of flowers. In one painting, she’s dressed in a full suit of armour, and you can tell that Az’Lean likes this version of her the best. Once more you notice that she's never depicted as fae, not that it's at all surprising.
You listen to the cleric tell a few more stories about Wyrd before you decide to leave. It is rapidly getting more crowded and more and more people are trying to approach Az’Lean to get him to talk to them. On your way out, the cleric hands you both a souvenir - a small wooden replica of a spinning wheel attached to a black leather band. Az’Lean puts his in his pocket.
[[You decide to wear it around your neck.|Chapter8B22]]
[[You decide to wear it around your wrist.|Chapter8B22]]
[[You put yours away in your pocket as well.|Chapter8B22]]Deeper in the chapel, there are large pages hung up on the wall, detailing Wyrd’s origin story. Az’Lean already knows it, so he walks past them, but you sneak a glance at them.
You read that Wyrd and the other Old Gods came to be when the magic of the lands gained a sense of self and became conscious. There were twelve of them in total, but even so they became lonely and wished for more company, thus creating humans and the fae. While they were lesser beings than them, they still lived together with the Gods for quite some time until they were numerous and intelligent enough to no longer need their guidance.
It is believed that nowadays, the Gods reside fully in the Otherworld - realm of the dead, realm of all magic.
You wonder whether they grew bored of humans and fae, and their incessant fighting. You wouldn't really hold it against them, though if they have the power to help foster peace, they're being awfully neglectful of their creations.
As you tour the chapel, you look at a few more depictions of Wyrd. She’s always presented as a woman, sometimes young, sometimes old. The spinning wheel is another constant, but her clothing varies a lot, as well as the background. Sometimes she’s floating in the night sky, sometimes she’s sitting atop a stone tower, sometimes she’s in a field of flowers. In one painting, she’s dressed in a full suit of armour, and you can tell that Az’Lean likes this version of her the best.
You listen to the cleric tell a few more stories about Wyrd before you decide to leave. It is rapidly getting more crowded and more and more people are trying to approach Az’Lean to get him to talk to them. On your way out, the cleric hands you both a souvenir - a small wooden replica of a spinning wheel attached to a black leather band. Az’Lean puts his in his pocket.
[[You decide to wear it around your neck.|Chapter8C22]]
[[You decide to wear it around your wrist.|Chapter8C22]]
[[You put yours away in your pocket as well.|Chapter8C22]]As soon as you leave the chapel, it feels like you’ve stepped into a fireplace. It is still before noon but the heat is already sweltering. Today promises to be quite the summer’s day.
“Maybe we should stay out of the sun,” Az’Lean suggests. He comes to a halt in front of one of the maps showcasing the shrines’ locations.
“Is there any other shrine you’re interested in visiting?” he asks.
You look at the map. It wouldn’t make any sense to trudge all the way across the city, so you look at the shrines closest to here.
There’s a shrine for Aurendil, the God of Light, just north of here, as well as one for Skadon, the God of Darkness right next to it. Interesting placement, to say the least.
Northeast of here is the shrine for Tuis, the Goddess of Secrets. Northwest is the shrine for Menon, the God of the Moon. West of here is the shrine for Sugelan, the Goddess of the Sun.
[[Aurendil and Skadon are right next to each other, so you might as well go there.|Chapter8Light]]
[[Tuis sounds the most intriguing.|Chapter8Secrets]]
[[Menon might be interesting to learn about.|Chapter8Moon]]
[[You remember that your father used to worship Sugelan, years ago.|Chapter8Sun]]As soon as you leave the chapel, it feels like you’ve stepped into a fireplace. It is still before noon but the heat is already sweltering. Today promises to be quite the summer’s day.
“Maybe we should stay out of the sun,” Az’Lean suggests. He comes to a halt in front of one of the maps showcasing the shrines’ locations.
“Is there any other shrine you’re interested in visiting?” he asks.
You look at the map. It wouldn’t make any sense to trudge all the way across the city, so you look at the shrines closest to here.
There’s a shrine for Aurendil, the God of Light, just north of here, as well as one for Skadon, the God of Darkness right next to it. Interesting placement, to say the least.
Northeast of here is the shrine for Tuis, the Goddess of Secrets. Northwest is the shrine for Menon, the God of the Moon. West of here is the shrine for Sugelan, the Goddess of the Sun.
[[Aurendil and Skadon are right next to each other, so you might as well go there.|Chapter8Light]]
[[Tuis sounds the most intriguing.|Chapter8Secrets]]
[[Menon might be interesting to learn about.|Chapter8Moon]]
[[You remember that your father used to worship Sugelan, years ago.|Chapter8Sun]]The shrine for Nertha, the Goddess of War, is located in the open air arena outside of the knights’ training grounds - the place where you fought for your title as Champion. It is as fitting a place as any. A large pavilion with a covering of red cloth provides some shade as you approach to view the exhibit.
You always thought it was interesting that war was important enough to have its own domain and a Goddess that was only in charge of this one aspect. Is war truly as important as all of nature? Not to mention that there exists a Goddess of War, but not one of peace. You suppose Ing, the God of Love, might be in charge of that, but it’s not its own separate aspect. And yet Nertha is not only significant, but revered by many.
When you take some time to look at the many paintings of Nertha on display, you realise that they are all very similar and about what you expected. Nertha is without fail dressed in armour, sometimes with a cape or surcoat as well, though she’s usually not shown in actual battle and rather pouring over a map or standing atop a parapet. She is always depicted as a middle-aged human woman with a stern expression. Of course conflict isn’t exclusive to humans, but when you think of traditional warfare, battle strategy and the like, it does make sense that the way in which humans fight would be representative for the context of war.
By reading some of the descriptions you learn that Nertha isn’t just the Goddess of War in the sense of clashing armies, but also in the sense of competition. Every kind of battle, even just a game of rock-paper-scissors falls under her domain. While aggression and bloodshed is a part of it, it isn’t required. Some prefer to refer to her as the Goddess of Victory, and you understand why. A peaceful resolution could be seen as a form of victory when it comes to ending a conflict as well, and yet war seems to be the default to such a degree that she’s now just known as the Goddess of War. You wonder whether she herself has any feelings on the matter.
You expect the relic that’s on display for Nertha to be a weapon of some kind, but it turns out to be a book. It certainly looks old and the binding is made of a material you can’t even identify. The book is opened, but displayed underneath a dome of magical barriers, so you can only get a look at two of the pages. Unfortunately, whatever this language is, you can’t read it. You don’t even recognise any of the symbols, though they do look like runes.
“Nertha’s Book of Strategies,” Az’Lean reads the plaque next to it out loud. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to read it.”
Even without that it is interesting to look at. The ink is the deepest, darkest black you have ever seen and for the handwriting of a Goddess, it looks very ordinary, even somewhat messy. You wonder whether Nertha is missing this book, or whether she left it behind on purpose. If the latter is the case, you’d assume there’d be someone who can actually read it. Or maybe there was someone like that, hundreds of years ago, in which case you wonder why there are no translations of it around.
Maybe this isn’t even a book about strategies and someone just assumed it was. You snort at the thought that this is just Nertha’s diary.
Once you and Az’Lean have seen enough, you move on with plans to eat lunch. Apparently, Az’Lean also wants to meet up with his father in order to discuss something as well as check up on Thianne for some reason.
<<if $route == 1>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8A23]]<<endif>>\
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The shrine for Ueltus, the God of Law, is located in the entrance hall of the city’s archives. It makes sense you suppose, though it doesn’t feel all too divine. Then again, what does ‘law’ really mean in the context of the Gods? You can’t imagine that his domain is concerned with the actual laws of kingdoms.
As you look around and survey the information about Ueltus that’s on display, you quickly realise that it would possibly be more accurate to call him the God of Order, or maybe Justice, though you suppose it’s difficult to pin down such subjective values. It seems to be that Ueltus is simply concerned with all manner of rules and systems, making him a vastly more popular God among human believers as opposed to the fae.
You take some time to study the depictions of Ueltus. Unsurprisingly, he’s been painted as a human in all of them. One aspect that is unexpected to you, however, is that he seems to be very young in many of the portraits, sometimes even to the point of being shown as a child. What does that convey - innocence? The kind of impartiality that only children possess, since they’re yet uninfluenced? That would make a lot of sense to you, though the idea of a judge being a kid is somewhat funny.
“Imagine being sentenced to death by a literal child,” Az’Lean murmurs under his breath, echoing your sentiment. You can’t help but snort.
Many of the images show Ueltus holding scales in one hand and some type of weapon in the other. Most of them look ridiculous in his small hands, but one of them does strike a chord with you. Ueltus is sitting on a throne, cross-legged, the scales hanging loosely from his right hand, while a large scythe is held in his left. It is big enough to frame him in its blade. It reminds you of something, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is.
Fittingly, there is also an actual pair of scales on display as a relic left behind by Ueltus. It is small, almost delicate, and incredibly ornate to the point that you can’t even imagine how whatever metal this is made out of was formed in this way. The patterns running across the scales are so smooth, it almost looks like they’re moving. There’s no description for the scales and they don’t seem to have a special name or anything like that, but you can tell they’re otherworldly just by looking at them.
You wonder whether the Gods miss all of these relics they leave behind, or whether they are too insignificant to care about. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have forgotten them in the first place, right?
Once you and Az’Lean have seen enough, you move on with plans to eat lunch. Apparently, Az’Lean also wants to meet up with his father in order to discuss something as well as check up on Thianne for some reason.
<<if $route == 1>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8A23]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8B23]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8C23]] <<endif>>\
The shrine for Tonaros, the God of Weather, is located inside a large tent on the outskirts of the city. While you are glad to be out of the sun for a bit, the air underneath the tent’s fabric is stale and uncomfortably warm. There’s almost something funny about Tonaros’ shrine being shielded from the elements in such a way - you’d figure he wouldn’t mind scorching sunshine or heavy rainfall, it being his domain, after all.
With the tent not presenting many opportunities to hang up portraits, they are laid flat on tables instead. A decent number of people are crowding around them, but you do get a few glimpses of the various portrayals of Tonaros. In most paintings, he looks like a typical scholar - an elderly man with glasses, an impressive beard, and dressed in robes. Sometimes he is shown wearing more practical attire such as leather armour as well.
You learn that Tonaros is a bit different from the other Gods in the sense that there’s nothing magical or mystical about him. He is the God of Weather, yes, but he is not the one in control of it. Instead, he studies it, and is thus also known as the God of science and travel. The way he’s described is more reminiscent of a legendary human than a God. A genius, an adventurer, but not quite an all powerful otherworldly being. You wonder why that is, and how exactly divinity is defined in the first place.
“It says here that Tonaros has even travelled to the centre of the earth,” Az’Lean says. “That doesn’t have much to do with weather, but I figure it’s still an impressive feat.”
“I wonder why his domain is weather in the first place,” you say with a frown. “Between the Goddess of Nature and the Goddess of the Sun, you’d figure weather was already covered.”
Rain, wind, sunshine, snow - that’s all it really is, isn’t it? Different temperatures, mostly. It almost compels you to start praying to Tonaros just to get an explanation as to why weather is its own domain.
You look towards the relic that’s on display, though it only raises more questions. On one of the tables lies a pair of boots. They aren’t particularly special in any way - just a pair of old leather boots with worn soles. Nevertheless, they’re placed beneath a magical barrier as though anyone would want to steal them or they could cause some type of harm. The plaque next to them reads “Tonaros’ Boots” and nothing else.
“I’m really starting to think he was just some guy,” you whisper quietly to yourself. The clerics in attendance don’t need to hear that.
With Tonaros turning out to be somewhat of a disappointment, Az’Lean and you move on with plans to eat lunch. Apparently, Az’Lean also wants to meet up with his father in order to discuss something as well as check up on Thianne for some reason.
<<if $route == 1>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8A23]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8B23]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8C23]] <<endif>>\
The shrine for Austron, the Goddess of Nature, is located inside a small, rustic chapel. It seems they have decided to focus on the cruelty of nature when designing this exhibit, that is to say, there are a lot of dead animals and magical beasts on display. You know that hunting and death are also part of Austron’s domain, but this does seem a bit tasteless to you. Having live animals here probably wouldn’t be any better, but still.
Most of the hunting trophies don’t really interest you, but you would be lying if you said that seeing the glittering seafoam green dragon scales aren’t a sight to behold.
As you walk along the chapel walls, studying the many depictions of Austron, you notice that in most of them, she’s shown with at least some fae features. Most often she’s portrayed as a hunter in a forest, equipped with a bow or spear, though sometimes she’s a farmer or an herbalist as well. Often she’s a middle-aged or elderly woman, though there’s surprisingly nothing nurturing about her.
You learn that as the Goddess of Nature, it isn’t just plant and animal life that she oversees, but in truth all life and death, and every process that happens in between. Birth, disease, survival. You feel like that’s a lot, but maybe in the eyes of the Goddess it is trivial to encompass that much in her domain.
“I think it’s interesting that there’s just as much focus on death as there is on life,” Az’Lean says. “I wonder whether Austron also has to deal with shepherding the souls of the dead to the Otherworld or if that just happens on its own.”
You figure in a way she’s also the Goddess of seasons, cycles, and ultimately time. Actually, almost anything can be linked back to life and death, even Wyrd’s domain of fate. There’s no indication that the Old Gods have any sort of hierarchy, but if they do, you imagine Austron is particularly important.
There’s also a relic of Austron’s on display beneath a dome of magical barriers. It is a woven basket inlaid with a strange crystalline grid. <i>Austron’s Self-Sorting Basket</i> it reads on the plaque next to it. Apparently, whatever is placed in this basket vanishes and instead reappears in Austron’s storage - a place that must surely exist somewhere but that no one has been able to find. It is said that she had many of these baskets and used them to gather all manner of things, transporting them effortlessly. The temptation to just throw something random in there is very strong. It’s probably good that it’s inaccessible or all of Gaitanis’ trash would’ve already been thrown in there.
Once you have enough of all the dead-eyed stares from the hunting trophies hung up on the chapel wall, Az’Lean and you move on with plans to eat lunch. Apparently, Az’Lean also wants to meet up with his father in order to discuss something as well as check up on Thianne for some reason.
<<if $route == 1>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8A23]]<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8B23]] <<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8C23]] <<endif>>\
The shrines for Yama, the Goddess of Family, and Ing, the God of Love, have been erected inside one of Gaitanis’ larger cathedrals that usually represents all of the Old Gods but has been reserved for these two today. Yama’s half of the cathedral is decorated with colourful banners and floating crystals while Ing’s half of the cathedral is filled with candles, bathing the surrounding area in a cosy light.
As the Goddess of Family, Yama is said to be the youngest of the Old Gods, precisely because the concept of family could only be born when there was a large enough number of Gods to experience it. Ing, on the other hand, has been around since the beginning, for he encompasses all kinds of love - even the love of the self, or the love of one’s surroundings.
It makes sense to you that Yama is often depicted as a young girl. Family is most important for children, after all. At the same time, many of the paintings show her dressed in armour or carrying a shield. You learn that Yama is also a guardian, both in the literal sense, and of traditional values.
The portraits of Ing… There’s no other way to describe them than lewd. He’s supposed to be in charge of all kinds of love, but evidently many artists had a particular kind of love in mind when trying to capture his likeness. More often than not, he is shown naked, stretched out on a bed, a field of flowers, or emerging from a lake. He’s always conventionally handsome, sometimes even with a fae features - but only those humans would consider nice to look at, so no sharp teeth or pitch black eyes, but the occasional pointy ear or butterfly wings instead.
Looking at this with Az’Lean standing right next to you is a little awkward. It reminds you of the time when you shared a bedroom with Vynn and they would insist on showing you the latest erotic piece of literature or art they had found.
You decide to move back over to Yama. Much more wholesome.
There’s a relic on display for her as well. It is a small mirror-like object with a smooth, black surface. The description for it tries to explain what it is - a scrying glass, used to look at something far away. You wonder whether Yama used it to keep an eye on her fellow Gods. Unfortunately, there is no explanation for how it works or in what way it was used.
It turns out that there is no relic that Ing has left behind, or at the very least, no one in Gaiapeia has ever found one. Maybe he was very cautious to not leave anything behind when the Gods moved to the Otherworld, or maybe he didn’t care much for worldly possessions. You’re honestly surprised that so many of the Old Gods left relics behind - if they’re the real deal, that is.
Once you’ve seen enough of Yama and Ing, Az’Lean and you move on with plans to eat lunch. Apparently, Az’Lean also wants to meet up with his father in order to discuss something as well as check up on Thianne for some reason.
<<if $route == 1>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8A23]]<<endif>>\
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<<if $route == 3>> [[He doesn't elaborate and you don't ask.|Chapter8C23]] <<endif>>\
You arrive with some time to spare for Vynn’s performance. As it turns out, being the Champion does have its perks, as everyone lets you move through the crowd undisturbed until you’re standing directly in front of the stage. You can see Vynn tuning their lute in the back, and they shoot you a dazzling grin when they spot you in the audience.
Now that you’ve secured a good spot, you take a minute to survey the scene. A decent number of people have shown up, though you aren’t sure whether they’re here specifically to hear Vynn. You immediately spot your parents among them, sitting at a table in the back. Lady Westwale is with them too.
Vynn’s parents, however, are nowhere to be seen. Of their siblings you only spot Rohan and Miche, standing not too far from you in the crowd. Your gaze wanders to the balcony across the marketplace, but it’s empty. It's not like you expected Az'Lean to care about Vynn's performance, but still... You're used to always knowing where he is and what he's doing, and now no longer keeping tabs on him immediately has you feeling unsettled. What if he's using your day off as a chance to do something he doesn't want you to know about? It's more than likely.
Once Vynn has finished tuning their lute, they walk over to you, hunching down on the stage so you can talk face to face.
“Thanks for coming, $playername,” they say. Their face is glowing with excitement, no trace of nervousness to be seen.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Vynn. Do you feel ready? This is quite the crowd, after all.”
They look around as if only now realising just how many people there really are. Still, they simply shrug. “I am glad to be sharing my music with this many people, but actually, this is for me more than anything. It’s something I want to express, something I want to get off my chest, so I don’t really care if anyone else enjoys it or what they think. Though, I do hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will. If this is you sharing your feelings, then I have even more reason to listen carefully. You deserve to be heard, Vynn,” you say, despite how impactful those words feel leaving your mouth. It is simply the truth.
Vynn’s grin widens. “Did you get those words from a fortune teller? In any case, it’s the right thing to say. Thank you, $playername.”
They take a deep breath, gripping their lute tightly, before heading to the centre of the stage. Someone comes up to them and casts a brief enchantment to better project the sound of their lute as well as their voice.
“Thank you everyone for showing up and listening to me play,” Vynn says and the crowd quiets down. “My name is Vynn, and I hope to be entertaining you for the next hour. This first song is called <i>Honey Love</i>. I’m sure the title is self-explanatory, but I would like to add that this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular, so none of you get your hopes up.”
A few people in the crowd laugh as Vynn takes a deep breath and gets into position.
[[Slightly shaking hands strum the first chord and Vynn’s performance begins.|Chapter8B28]]You arrive with some time to spare for Vynn’s performance. As it turns out, being the Champion does have its perks, as everyone lets you move through the crowd undisturbed until you’re standing directly in front of the stage. You can see Vynn tuning their lute in the back, and they shoot you a dazzling grin when they spot you in the audience.
Now that you’ve secured a good spot, you take a minute to survey the scene. A decent number of people have shown up, though you aren’t sure whether they’re here specifically to hear Vynn. You immediately spot your parents among them, sitting at a table in the back. Lady Westwale is with them too.
Vynn’s parents, however, are nowhere to be seen. Of their siblings you only spot Rohan and Miche, standing not too far from you in the crowd. Your gaze wanders to the balcony across the marketplace, but it’s empty. You can’t help but wonder where Az’Lean is or what he’s doing, not that it matters right now. It’s your day off and Vynn is performing - that’s the only thing that you should be concerning yourself with.
Once Vynn has finished tuning their lute, they walk over to you, hunching down on the stage so you can talk face to face.
“Thanks for coming, $playername,” they say. Their face is glowing with excitement, no trace of nervousness to be seen.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Vynn. Do you feel ready? This is quite the crowd, after all.”
They look around as if only now realising just how many people there really are. Still, they simply shrug. “I am glad to be sharing my music with this many people, but actually, this is for me more than anything. It’s something I want to express, something I want to get off my chest, so I don’t really care if anyone else enjoys it or what they think. Though, I do hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will. If this is you sharing your feelings, then I have even more reason to listen carefully. You deserve to be heard, Vynn,” you say, despite how impactful those words feel leaving your mouth. It is simply the truth.
Vynn’s grin widens. “Did you get those words from a fortune teller? In any case, it’s the right thing to say. Thank you, $playername.”
They take a deep breath, gripping their lute tightly, before heading to the centre of the stage. Someone comes up to them and casts a brief enchantment to better project the sound of their lute as well as their voice.
“Thank you everyone for showing up and listening to me play,” Vynn says and the crowd quiets down. “My name is Vynn, and I hope to be entertaining you for the next hour. This first song is called <i>Honey Love</i>. I’m sure the title is self-explanatory, but I would like to add that this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular, so none of you get your hopes up.”
A few people in the crowd laugh as Vynn takes a deep breath and gets into position.
[[Slightly shaking hands strum the first chord and Vynn’s performance begins.|Chapter8C28]]<i>
Meadows stretching far and wide,
There’s no place for us to hide
Our love.
Let misfortune be our guide,
Show me what you keep inside,
My love.
Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.</i>
Vynn stops singing for a moment, letting the lute’s music speak for itself. The melody they are playing is whimsical and wistful at the same time. The audience seems captivated and you’re impressed that they haven’t missed a single note so far. Vynn has always been a talented musician and you’ve heard them play for years now, so you can tell how much time they must’ve spent practising this. The performance is as close to perfect as it can get.
Even now that they’re a knight, they’re putting as much effort and time as possible into their music. For a moment you can’t help but worry how their parents will respond - it’s likely they’ll consider this a waste of time. You hope they’ll at the very least keep their opinions to themselves. All Vynn should be hearing today is applause.
They continue with the next verse:
<i>There’s just one thing I can’t abide,
Don’t look at me all teary-eyed,
My love.
I do not care what you decide,
I will not have it be denied,
Our love.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, we will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I am yours and you are mine.</i>
The song ends on a purposefully discordant note, letting a chill run down your spine. The audience wastes no time with their applause, moderate at first, but increasing in volume as more and more people have come to appreciate the song’s ending. The element of dread that accompanied this otherwise typical love song must have left an impression indeed.
“Thank you!” Vynn says, taking a moment to compose themselves. Their face is flushed from excitement. “Love is certainly a tricky subject. This next song deals with it as well, among other things. It is called: Peace and War.”
The song’s intro is lengthy and entirely instrumental, creating a sombre atmosphere. It succeeds at getting everyone in the crowd to quiet down and creates a foreboding tension. When Vynn opens their mouth and hits that first note, the speed increases, and the build-up continues.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
And yet I see how far I’ve strayed in my attempt to persuade.</i>
Vynn’s voice turns breathy at the end and the song changes tempo, just for a brief moment.
<i>No words can reach a heart of stone,
No point in trying to atone.</i>
They strum their lute with astonishing dexterity and speed, and once again the song begins building tension, repeating the same verse as before. It’s a steady climb, and you can feel everyone waiting for the drop.
<i>Love and hate and peace and war,
Whether to worship or adore.</i>
The drop is harsh and sudden, delivered at the very end of the song so as to deny any sort of relief from the tension.
<i>Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The song ends abruptly, as though the last line itself had been sung with Vynn’s last breath. The audience is silent for a second, stunned by the suddenness of it all. You are one of the first people to begin clapping, and soon the rest joins in as well.
You notice that the mood is beginning to shift. This song too was filled with a pervasive sense of dread, and while the audience appears to be captivated and appreciative, it would be wrong to say that they’re having fun.
This might not be the sort of performance one would expect on a joyful festival like this one, but Vynn did say that this was simply them expressing themselves. What, then, does it mean, that both of their songs so far have been filled with a feeling of looming tragedy?
Vynn swiftly moves on to the next few songs, this time covering known and beloved classics. Even now, however, the songs they decide to play are all melancholy. War ballads bemoaning the loss of comrades, love songs that express deep longing or loneliness, and a few satirical pieces that hide deep dissatisfaction beneath a thin veneer of humour.
Soon you realise that the make-up of the crowd itself has shifted. Families with children seem to have left, instead there seem to be a large number of older knights who have taken an interest in Vynn’s performance.
“As much as I would like to keep playing indefinitely, it is now time for my final song. It is an elegy dealing with worries about the future. The title is: Elegy of the Glass Heart.”
The song begins like a typical elegy, slow, sombre and full of emotion. You wonder whether there’s going to be an even darker twist to this song as well.
<i>The sorrow that comes with the passage of time,
It burrows so deep down in river and mine.
It sinks into sand and we turn it to glass
To reflect all our troubles right back at us.
The heartache that comes with the loss of a friend,
We partake in rituals designed to defend.
So fragile we are and so sharp we can cut.
Like splinters in your veins and shards in my gut.</i>
At this point, the tone begins to shift. The song slows down even further and Vynn’s voice drops into a low, breathy whisper, still carried far by the magic enhancing their volume.
<i>It’s us versus them, there’s no point to pretend.
Lines drawn in the sand by your hand in the end.
But who’s facing where, who’ll sever, who’ll mend?
Who’s family, who’s foe, and who is a friend? </i>
Vynn’s vocals die out, letting the question hang ominously in the air for a moment, only accompanied by a few strums of their lute. They proceed into the second verse much like before:
<i>Individual grains that make up a whole,
Like lives in a city, all under control.
Heated and melted and then borne into one,
There’s only one option for what we become.
Man, humans, humanity, the kingdom, us.
It’s a delicate structure, nothing to discuss.
So fragile we are and so sharp we can cut.
Like splinters in your veins and shards in my gut.</i>
Vynn keeps playing the same tune for a while, letting the elegy speak for itself. Without any vocals, it does sound less desperate, in a way. You could almost be tricked into thinking it’s soothing. It doesn’t last, of course, and Vynn ends the song with a few final, mood shattering words.
<i>It’s us versus them, but the problem is clear.
There’s no end in sight, so we're all ruled by fear.
But who’s fighting whom? Who is worth it, who’s dear?
None of that matters when the end is so near.</i>
They hum the melody a few times, before finally playing the last chord and letting it echo across the marketplace.
As you applaud with the rest of the crowd, you can’t help but feel…
[[Determined. Your heart burns with the desire to not give in.|Chapter8B29]]
[[Saddened. That song struck a chord with you, but it’s reverberating with dread and unease.|Chapter8B29]]
[[Unmoved. It was a good song in technical terms, but it meant nothing to you on a personal level.|Chapter8B29]]<i>
Meadows stretching far and wide,
There’s no place for us to hide
Our love.
Let misfortune be our guide,
Show me what you keep inside,
My love.
Sticky, sweet
There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be
Than with you
There’s nothing else that I’d rather do.
Honey, love,
Two names for you, like the stars above,
Golden, shine,
I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.</i>
Vynn stops singing for a moment, letting the lute’s music speak for itself. The melody they are playing is whimsical and wistful at the same time. The audience seems captivated and you’re impressed that they haven’t missed a single note so far. Vynn has always been a talented musician and you’ve heard them play for years now, so you can tell how much time they must’ve spent practising this. The performance is as close to perfect as it can get.
Even now that they’re a knight, they’re putting as much effort and time as possible into their music. For a moment you can’t help but worry how their parents will respond - it’s likely they’ll consider this a waste of time. You hope they’ll at the very least keep their opinions to themselves. All Vynn should be hearing today is applause.
They continue with the next verse:
<i>There’s just one thing I can’t abide,
Don’t look at me all teary-eyed,
My love.
I do not care what you decide,
I will not have it be denied,
Our love.
Sticky, sweet
If I stay with you, we will not be freed
Of our chains,
Together ev’ryday, even when it rains.
Honey, love,
When I speak do you know what I’m thinking of?
Golden, shine,
I am yours and you are mine.</i>
The song ends on a purposefully discordant note, letting a chill run down your spine. The audience wastes no time with their applause, moderate at first, but increasing in volume as more and more people have come to appreciate the song’s ending. The element of dread that accompanied this otherwise typical love song must have left an impression indeed.
“Thank you!” Vynn says, taking a moment to compose themselves. Their face is flushed from excitement. “Love is certainly a tricky subject. This next song deals with it as well, among other things. It is called: Peace and War.”
The song’s intro is lengthy and entirely instrumental, creating a sombre atmosphere. It succeeds at getting everyone in the crowd to quiet down and creates a foreboding tension. When Vynn opens their mouth and hits that first note, the speed increases, and the build-up continues.
<i>Life and death and love and hate,
Does any of it matter if it’s all just fate?
Life and death and love and war,
Do any of you know what you’re fighting for?
I hate the hand that holds the blade,
I loathe the mind that plays charade.
And yet I see how far I’ve strayed in my attempt to persuade.</i>
Vynn’s voice turns breathy at the end and the song changes tempo, just for a brief moment.
<i>No words can reach a heart of stone,
No point in trying to atone.</i>
They strum their lute with astonishing dexterity and speed, and once again the song begins building tension, repeating the same verse as before. It’s a steady climb, and you can feel everyone waiting for the drop.
<i>Love and hate and peace and war,
Whether to worship or adore.</i>
The drop is harsh and sudden, delivered at the very end of the song so as to deny any sort of relief from the tension.
<i>Peace and war and birth and death,
Whose name will you say with your last breath?</i>
The song ends abruptly, as though the last line itself had been sung with Vynn’s last breath. The audience is silent for a second, stunned by the suddenness of it all. You are one of the first people to begin clapping, and soon the rest joins in as well.
You notice that the mood is beginning to shift. This song too was filled with a pervasive sense of dread, and while the audience appears to be captivated and appreciative, it would be wrong to say that they’re having fun.
This might not be the sort of performance one would expect on a joyful festival like this one, but Vynn did say that this was simply them expressing themselves. What, then, does it mean, that both of their songs so far have been filled with a feeling of looming tragedy?
Vynn swiftly moves on to the next few songs, this time covering known and beloved classics. Even now, however, the songs they decide to play are all melancholy. War ballads bemoaning the loss of comrades, love songs that express deep longing or loneliness, and a few satirical pieces that hide deep dissatisfaction beneath a thin veneer of humour.
Soon you realise that the make-up of the crowd itself has shifted. Families with children seem to have left, instead there seem to be a large number of older knights who have taken an interest in Vynn’s performance.
“As much as I would like to keep playing indefinitely, it is now time for my final song. It is a ballad about hope and sacrifice. The title is: Ballad of the Lost Heart.”
The song begins like a typical ballad, a bit whimsical, a bit melancholic, and full of emotion. You wonder whether there’s going to be a sombre twist to this song as well.
<i>The ties that bind us are blood and steel,
Yet I’m only thinking in melodies.
It’s one thing to tell you how I feel,
It’s another to come up with remedies.
I know how to rhyme, and I know how to play,
But what can I do if we lose our way?
Keep singing, keep praying, keep telling you ‘no’?
It feels like at this point it’s all just for show.</i>
At this point, the tone begins to shift. The song slows down a bit and Vynn’s voice drops into a low, breathy whisper, still carried far by the magic enhancing their volume.
<i>I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to kill you, either.
I’m looking for hope and wishing for peace, at this rate I’ll have neither.
So what must I do to get what I want? What must I do to succeed?
Is asking for freedom and justice too much? Is asking for safety just greed?</i>
Vynn’s vocals die out, letting the question hang ominously in the air for a moment, only accompanied by a few strums of their lute. The ballad picks back up and it proceeds into the second verse much like before:
<i>They say that there’s no gain without pain,
But when is the suffering too much?
For one man to live, another must wane,
Yet these sacrifices aren’t for me to judge.
A balance of life like a balance of gold,
Only those fortunate have the funds to grow old.
There’s not much I can do but keep telling you so.
It feels like at this point it’s all just for show.</i>
Vynn keeps playing the same tune for a while, letting the ballad speak for itself. Without any vocals, it does sound less desperate, in a way. You could almost be tricked into thinking it’s uplifting. It doesn’t last, of course, and Vynn ends the song with a few final, mood shattering words.
<i>I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to kill you, either.
I’m looking for understanding and love, at this rate I’ll have neither.
So what must I do to get what I want? What must I do to succeed?
Is asking for happiness really too much? Is asking for mercy just greed?</i>
They hum the melody a few times, before finally playing the last chord and letting it echo across the marketplace.
As you applaud with the rest of the crowd, you can’t help but feel…
[[Empassioned. Your heart burns with the determination to make a change.|Chapter8C29]]
[[Defeated. That song struck a chord with you, but it’s reverberating with dread and unease.|Chapter8C29]]
[[Unmoved. It was a good song in technical terms, but it meant nothing to you on a personal level.|Chapter8C29]]You watch as Vynn bows repeatedly, clearly out of breath at this point.
“Thank you all so much for listening!” they say a few times, seemingly unsure when or how to make their exit. After a while, they simply shuffle backwards off the stage, lute cradled in their arms.
You aren’t quite sure whether it’d be fine for you to go behind the stage, so you simply hang around and wait. The crowd disperses somewhat, though a good number of people stick around to see whatever is up next.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually Vynn appears from behind the stage, their unruly curls dripping with water and a cloth hung around their neck. It’s no wonder that they needed to cool off, even just standing here in a crowd is making you sweat. The heat has gotten downright sweltering - truthfully you can’t wait for the sun to set.
Vynn spots you immediately and all but barrels into you. “That was exhilarating,” they say, bumping their shoulder into yours. “If it wasn’t also so exhausting I’d have loved to keep going.”
“You were great, Vynn,” you say, not mentioning it when their wet hair starts dripping into your shoulder. “The crowd was really moved by the end of it.”
Vynn laughs happily. “If you say so! I could tell they were a bit surprised by the direction of my songs at points, but I do think they enjoyed them. I’m just glad everything went off without a hitch. My biggest worry was a string suddenly snapping, or something like that.”
“Sure enough, your performance was pretty much perfect,” you say and watch as Vynn practically glows at the praise. “Want to get something to drink? Your throat must be done for.”
They seem to consider it for a moment before shaking their head. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I need to retreat for a little bit. Gotta get my lute back to my room, maybe put on some fresh clothes, take a leak… But I’ll be back tonight. Wouldn’t miss the dance for anything.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. Right, the dance. You should probably decide who to ask, at this point.
Vynn waves you goodbye as they head off towards the castle. You look for a place to sit down by yourself, hopefully to be able to think for a minute about the question that has been bouncing around in your head all day.
Who should you ask to dance with you tonight? You consider your options for a moment. Even setting aside whether you're thinking about romantic attraction or just the desire to become closer, as friends or otherwise...
Vynn is always an option. You know they'll say yes. Dancing with them would be comfortable, safe, and guaranteed fun.
Is it a good idea to ask someone to dance who you are actively deceiving? Some might say that's the exact thing you should be doing if you want to seem convincing. Still, do you really want to grow closer to Az'Lean?
Thianne is probably going to turn down most people. She might not even be willing to dance at all. She's probably not the best choice, but she is <i>a</i> choice.
It should be fine to ask Lester. You've been getting along well recently, he knows about you, and you know that you can trust him. He wouldn't be a bad choice.
Of course, you could try dancing with Maeve in your room. Unorthodox, maybe, and people would be wondering where you are, but... When else will you get the chance to do something like that with her?
You stare up at the sky, pondering your options. No matter who you ask, you'll also have to decide how to ask them. Whether to make it obvious that you're simply asking platonically, leaving it open, or maybe even explicitly... You nip the thought in the bud. Should you be really considering any of these options romantically at a time like this?
One decision at a time.
If you think about dancing with someone, deepening your bond, intertwining your destinies (allegedly), you'd want it to be...
[[Vynn.|Chapter8B30V]]
[[Az'Lean.|Chapter8B30A]]
[[Thianne.|Chapter8B30T]]
[[Lester.|Chapter8B30L]]
[[Maeve.|Chapter8B30M]]
You watch as Vynn bows repeatedly, clearly out of breath at this point.
“Thank you all so much for listening!” they say a few times, seemingly unsure when or how to make their exit. After a while, they simply shuffle backwards off the stage, lute cradled in their arms.
You aren’t quite sure whether it’d be fine for you to go behind the stage, so you simply hang around and wait. The crowd disperses somewhat, though a good number of people stick around to see whatever is up next.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually Vynn appears from behind the stage, their unruly curls dripping with water and a cloth hung around their neck. It’s no wonder that they needed to cool off, even just standing here in a crowd is making you sweat. The heat has gotten downright sweltering - truthfully you can’t wait for the sun to set.
Vynn spots you immediately and all but barrels into you. “That was exhilarating,” they say, bumping their shoulder into yours. “If it wasn’t also so exhausting I’d have loved to keep going.”
“You were great, Vynn,” you say, not mentioning it when their wet hair starts dripping into your shoulder. “You really had the crowd bewitched.”
Vynn laughs happily. “If you say so! I could tell they were a bit surprised by the direction of my songs at points, but I do think they enjoyed them. I’m just glad everything went off without a hitch. My biggest worry was a string suddenly snapping, or something like that.”
“Sure enough, your performance was pretty much perfect,” you say and watch as Vynn practically glows at the praise. “Want to get something to drink? Your throat must be done for.”
They seem to consider it for a moment before shaking their head. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I need to retreat for a little bit. Gotta get my lute back to my room, maybe put on some fresh clothes, take a leak… But I’ll be back tonight. Wouldn’t miss the dance for anything.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. Right, the dance. You should probably decide who to ask, at this point.
Vynn waves you goodbye as they head off towards the castle. You look for a place to sit down by yourself, hopefully to be able to think for a minute about the question that has been bouncing around in your head all day.
Who should you ask to dance with you tonight? You consider your options for a moment. Even setting aside whether you're thinking about romantic attraction or just the desire to become closer, as friends or otherwise...
Vynn is always an option. You know they'll say yes. Dancing with them would be comfortable, safe, and guaranteed fun.
Asking Az'Lean to dance comes with a few risks. You're not sure how he'd take it, and people would undoubtedly talk.
Thianne is probably going to turn down most people. She might not even be willing to dance at all. That doesn't mean you can't try.
It should be fine to ask Lester. You've been getting along well enough recently and you think he'd accept. He wouldn't be a bad choice.
Of course, you could try checking out the gardens, and see whether you could dance there with Maeve. Unorthodox, maybe, and people would be wondering where you are, but... When else will you get the chance to do something like that with her?
You stare up at the sky, pondering your options. No matter who you ask, you'll also have to decide how to ask them. Whether to make it obvious that you're simply asking platonically, leaving it open, or maybe even explicitly... You nip the thought in the bud. Should you be really considering any of these options romantically at a time like this?
One decision at a time.
If you think about dancing with someone, deepening your bond, intertwining your destinies (allegedly), you'd want it to be...
[[Vynn.|Chapter8C30V]]
[[Az'Lean.|Chapter8C30A]]
[[Thianne.|Chapter8C30T]]
[[Lester.|Chapter8C30L]]
[[Maeve.|Chapter8C30M]]
You are still holding Az’Lean’s hand tightly in yours, waiting for the next song to begin, when you hear the sound of horses galloping on cobblestone above the noises of the crowd. The people left and right from you begin to quiet down and you can more clearly hear neighing and the thunderous claps of hooves.
The sea of people begins to part, knights and guards shepherding everyone off to the sides to make way for the group of riders that are fast approaching the market place. People have begun shouting as they’re getting shoved aside.
“What’s going on?” you ask, but Az’Lean just shakes his head as his expression darkens.
The riders turn out to be a group of four knights you don’t recognise - they must not be from the city. They look unharmed, but undoubtedly frantic, four sets of eyes desperately searching the crowd.
They find King Az’Marn within the mass of festival goers, already flanked by a number of guards, and all but jump off their horses to rush to his side.
Just seconds ago, you had been feeling so warm. It is as if the temperature has dropped below freezing in an instant. Az’Lean’s grip on your hand turns painful as he begins dragging you closer to his father and the knights, clearly not wanting to miss out on what’s happening.
“Your majesty,” one of the knights begins, not bothering to catch his breath. “Urgent report! The Wild Hunt from a few weeks ago has broached the northern border in Trist territory. They are riding south, towards Grahm territory. We have begun intercepting them, but require immediate back-up.”
Something twists in your stomach. <i>Are they heading for Grahm territory on purpose?</i>
King Az’Marn’s eyes turn sharp - sharper than you’ve ever seen them before. His left hand glows with a faint light as he brings it towards his throat. When he begins to speak, his voice echoes across the entire city, deafeningly loud.
“The festival is now concluded. All knights on active duty and those who are sober and rested enough to fight, please make sure you are geared up and ready to ride out at a moment's notice. Liege Trist, Lord, Lady and Champion Grahm, as well as Az’Lean, meet me at the castle entrance immediately.”
You and Az’Lean exchange a look - you see your own dread reflected in his glassy blue eyes.
As you head towards the castle entrance, you keep holding his hand. He doesn’t let go either.
[[End of Chapter 8A - Hymn|Chapter9A.0]]
You are still holding Vynn’s hand tightly in yours, waiting for the next song to begin, when you hear the sound of horses galloping on cobblestone above the noises of the crowd. The people left and right from you begin to quiet down and you can more clearly hear neighing and the thunderous claps of hooves.
The sea of people begins to part, knights and guards shepherding everyone off to the sides to make way for the group of riders that are fast approaching the market place. People have begun shouting as they’re getting shoved aside.
“What’s going on?” you ask, but Vynn just shakes their head as their expression darkens.
The riders turn out to be a group of four knights you don’t recognise - they must not be from the city. They look unharmed, but undoubtedly frantic, four sets of eyes desperately searching the crowd.
They find King Az’Marn within the mass of festival goers, already flanked by a number of guards, and all but jump off their horses to rush to his side.
Just seconds ago, you had been feeling so warm. It is as if the temperature has dropped below freezing in an instant. Vynn’s grip on your hand is the only thing that grounds you as you slowly push through the crowd closer to the king, not wanting to miss out on what’s happening.
“Your majesty,” one of the knights begins, not bothering to catch his breath. “Urgent report! The Wild Hunt from a few weeks ago has broached the northern border in Trist territory. They are riding south, towards Grahm territory. We have begun intercepting them, but require immediate back-up.”
Something twists in your stomach. <i>Are they heading for Grahm territory on purpose?</i>
King Az’Marn’s eyes turn sharp - sharper than you’ve ever seen them before. His left hand glows with a faint light as he brings it towards his throat. When he begins to speak, his voice echoes across the entire city, deafeningly loud.
“The festival is now concluded. All knights on active duty and those who are sober and rested enough to fight, please make sure you are geared up and ready to ride out at a moment's notice. Liege Trist, Lord, Lady and Champion Grahm, as well as Az’Lean, meet me at the castle entrance immediately.”
You and Vynn exchange a look - you see your own worry reflected in their deep brown eyes.
As you head towards the castle entrance, you keep holding their hand. They don’t let go either.
[[End of Chapter 8A - Hymn|Chapter9A.0]]You are still holding Thianne’s hand tightly in yours, waiting for the next song to begin, when you hear the sound of horses galloping on cobblestone above the noises of the crowd. The people left and right from you begin to quiet down and you can more clearly hear neighing and the thunderous claps of hooves.
The sea of people begins to part, knights and guards shepherding everyone off to the sides to make way for the group of riders that are fast approaching the market place. People have begun shouting as they’re getting shoved aside.
“What’s going on?” you ask, but Thianne just shakes her head as her expression darkens.
The riders turn out to be a group of four knights you don’t recognise - they must not be from the city. They look unharmed, but undoubtedly frantic, four sets of eyes desperately searching the crowd.
They find King Az’Marn within the mass of festival goers, already flanked by a number of guards, and all but jump off their horses to rush to his side.
Just seconds ago, you had been feeling so warm. It is as if the temperature has dropped below freezing in an instant. Thianne’s grip on your hand is the only thing that grounds you as you slowly push through the crowd closer to the king, not wanting to miss out on what’s happening.
“Your majesty,” one of the knights begins, not bothering to catch his breath. “Urgent report! The Wild Hunt from a few weeks ago has broached the northern border in Trist territory. They are riding south, towards Grahm territory. We have begun intercepting them, but require immediate back-up.”
Something twists in your stomach. <i>Are they heading for Grahm territory on purpose?</i>
King Az’Marn’s eyes turn sharp - sharper than you’ve ever seen them before. His left hand glows with a faint light as he brings it towards his throat. When he begins to speak, his voice echoes across the entire city, deafeningly loud.
“The festival is now concluded. All knights on active duty and those who are sober and rested enough to fight, please make sure you are geared up and ready to ride out at a moment's notice. Liege Trist, Lord, Lady and Champion Grahm, as well as Az’Lean, meet me at the castle entrance immediately.”
You and Thianne exchange a look - you see your own unease reflected in her bright amber eyes.
As you head towards the castle entrance, you keep holding her hand. She doesn’t let go either.
[[End of Chapter 8A - Hymn|Chapter9A.0]]You are still holding Lester’s hand tightly in yours, waiting for the next song to begin, when you hear the sound of horses galloping on cobblestone above the noises of the crowd. The people left and right from you begin to quiet down and you can more clearly hear neighing and the thunderous claps of hooves.
The sea of people begins to part, knights and guards shepherding everyone off to the sides to make way for the group of riders that are fast approaching the market place. People have begun shouting as they’re getting shoved aside.
“What’s going on?” you ask, but Lester just shakes his head as his expression darkens.
The riders turn out to be a group of four knights you don’t recognise - they must not be from the city. They look unharmed, but undoubtedly frantic, four sets of eyes desperately searching the crowd.
They find King Az’Marn within the mass of festival goers, already flanked by a number of guards, and all but jump off their horses to rush to his side.
Just seconds ago, you had been feeling so warm. It is as if the temperature has dropped below freezing in an instant. Lester’s grip on your hand is the only thing that grounds you as you slowly push through the crowd closer to the king, not wanting to miss out on what’s happening.
“Your majesty,” one of the knights begins, not bothering to catch his breath. “Urgent report! The Wild Hunt from a few weeks ago has broached the northern border in Trist territory. They are riding south, towards Grahm territory. We have begun intercepting them, but require immediate back-up.”
Something twists in your stomach. <i>Are they heading for Grahm territory on purpose?</i>
King Az’Marn’s eyes turn sharp - sharper than you’ve ever seen them before. His left hand glows with a faint light as he brings it towards his throat. When he begins to speak, his voice echoes across the entire city, deafeningly loud.
“The festival is now concluded. All knights on active duty and those who are sober and rested enough to fight, please make sure you are geared up and ready to ride out at a moment's notice. Liege Trist, Lord, Lady and Champion Grahm, as well as Az’Lean, meet me at the castle entrance immediately.”
You and Lester exchange a look; there’s uncertainty in his bright green eyes.
As you head towards the castle entrance, he follows a few steps behind you, clearly hesitant to barge into this meeting but also not wanting to leave you on your own.
[[End of Chapter 8A - Hymn|Chapter9A.0]]
You are still nursing your burned hand when you hear the sound of horses galloping on cobblestone above the noises of the crowd. The people left and right from you begin to quiet down and you can more clearly hear neighing and the thunderous claps of hooves.
The sea of people begins to part, knights and guards shepherding everyone off to the sides to make way for the group of riders that are fast approaching the market place. People have begun shouting as they’re getting shoved aside.
“What’s going on?” you whisper to yourself.
The riders turn out to be a group of four knights you don’t recognise - they must not be from the city. They look unharmed, but undoubtedly frantic, four sets of eyes desperately searching the crowd.
They find King Az’Marn within the mass of festival goers, already flanked by a number of guards, and all but jump off their horses to rush to his side.
Just seconds ago, you had been feeling so warm. It is as if the temperature has dropped below freezing in an instant. You slowly push through the crowd closer to the king, not wanting to miss out on what’s happening.
“Your majesty,” one of the knights begins, not bothering to catch his breath. “Urgent report! The Wild Hunt from a few weeks ago has broached the northern border in Trist territory. They are riding south, towards Grahm territory. We have begun intercepting them, but require immediate back-up.”
Something twists in your stomach. <i>Are they heading for Grahm territory on purpose?</i>
King Az’Marn’s eyes turn sharp - sharper than you’ve ever seen them before. His left hand glows with a faint light as he brings it towards his throat. When he begins to speak, his voice echoes across the entire city, deafeningly loud.
“The festival is now concluded. All knights on active duty and those who are sober and rested enough to fight, please make sure you are geared up and ready to ride out at a moment's notice. Liege Trist, Lord, Lady and Champion Grahm, as well as Az’Lean, meet me at the castle entrance immediately.”
You internally curse yourself for being careless enough to get hurt at a time like this and head towards the castle.
[[End of Chapter 8A - Hymn|Chapter9A.0]]You take a much needed minute to breathe. Tonight has been a lot and your heart has been beating fast for a while now. As you wipe the sweat off your brow you allow yourself to collapse, any remaining tension leaving your body.
Even now, the dancing continues and the alcohol flows - despite being outside at night the air is heady and sickeningly sweet from all the people pressed up against each other. Once midnight has long passed the music turns just a tad softer, more candid than festive.
Just when you think that you have rested enough, Lester shows up out of nowhere next to you, a grim expression on his face.
“What happened?” you ask, immediately on edge. You were feeling hot and sweaty just seconds ago, now it feels like the temperature has dropped below freezing.
“I was listening in on a conversation between the King and all of the nobles that have territories along the border. They’ve come to a decision regarding the use of the magical barrier devices. All of them have unanimously agreed to use the lethal setting. With production now officially underway, they hope to have them installed in a few weeks time.”
You have feared something like this might happen. Dread wraps slowly around your insides, pressing against your lungs.
“They plan to erect a lethal barrier along the entirety of the border?” you ask, just to make sure.
Lester brings a restless hand up to scratch at his ear. “Worse. There have been talks of expansion. Nothing concrete, mind you, but the suggestion was made to use the mabs in order to slowly push the border outwards.”
“But that could mean…”
The very worst possibility that no one has had the courage to name so far. A possibility that had seemed unrealistic and needlessly bloody but with the invention of the mabs is suddenly something that could be easily done without even the need to fight directly.
The complete annihilation of any and all fae on Gaiapeia.
[[End of Chapter 8B - Elegy|Chapter9B.0]]<<unset $shop1>>\
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Any and all support is greatly appreciated!You take a much needed minute to breathe. Tonight has been a lot and your heart has been beating fast for a while now. As you wipe the sweat off your brow you allows yourself to collapse, any remaining tension leaving your body.
Even now, the dancing continues and the alcohol flows - despite being outside at night the air is heady and sickeningly sweet from all the people pressed up against each other. Once midnight has long passed the music turns just a tad softer, more candid than festive.
Just when you think that this is taking quite a while, Lester reappears next to you, a grim expression on his face instead of the bright one from earlier.
“What happened?” you ask, immediately on edge, even as you take the tankard of ale from him. You were feeling hot and sweaty just seconds ago, now it feels like the temperature has dropped below freezing.
Lester wastes no time and you can barely process the words as he says them.
“I was listening in on a conversation between the King and all of the nobles that have territories along the border. They’ve come to a decision regarding the use of the magical barrier devices. All of them have unanimously agreed to use the lethal setting. With production now officially underway, they hope to have them installed in a few weeks time.”
You have feared something like this might happen. Dread wraps slowly around your insides, pressing against your lungs.
“They plan to erect a lethal barrier along the entirety of the border?” you ask, just to make sure.
Lester brings a restless hand up to scratch at his ear. “Worse. There have been talks of expansion. Nothing concrete, mind you, but the suggestion was made to use the mabs in order to slowly push the border outwards.”
“But that could mean…”
The very worst possibility that no one has had the courage to name so far. A possibility that had seemed unrealistic and needlessly bloody but with the invention of the mabs is suddenly something that could be easily done without even the need to fight directly.
The complete annihilation of any and all fae on Gaiapeia.
[[End of Chapter 8B - Elegy|Chapter9B.0]]
You take a much needed minute to breathe. Tonight has been a lot and your heart simply refuses to calm down. As you wipe the sweat off your brow you slowly collapse on the edge of the fountain, the slight spray of water against your back a welcome reprieve.
Even now, the dancing continues and the alcohol flows - despite being outside at night the air is heady and sickeningly sweet from all the people pressed up against each other. Once midnight has long passed the music turns just a tad softer, more candid than festive.
Just when you think that you should probably look for your parents and wish them a good night, Vynn emerges from the crowd, heading towards you.
You are about to greet them when you notice the contemplative look on their face.
“Did something happen?” you ask.
They sit down next to you with a sigh. “I’m not sure yet. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but I was so preoccupied with my performance and the dance that I forgot all about it. I feel like it can’t wait too much longer, though.”
You look at them curiously. “What’s this about?”
“You witnessed that New Deity sermon yesterday, right? That whole thing seemed weird to me, so out of curiosity, I went to check out their temple. They did offer invitations to everyone, after all. Now, I might just be making stuff up, but their teachings are clearly very centred on humanity, and their rise in popularity coincides with the escalation of tensions between the kingdom and the fae. What if there’s more to that?”
“So, what, you think they are using the conflict to gain followers?” That doesn’t seem all that strange to you.
“No, I don’t think that’s quite it. The faith was founded by a former Queen, right? It could be possible that it’s just a sort of propaganda tool, but then you’d expect it to have some kind of support from the crown. I’m pretty sure Az’Lean doesn’t believe a lick of it.”
“He prays to Wyrd,” you say, frowning. “I’m not sure about the king. I still don’t get what you’re trying to say, though.”
Vynn smiles wryly. “I think the New Deity exists, and that concerns me. What happened during that sermon didn’t seem staged to me. Aside from that, however, when I went to their temple… I felt something strange. As if some type of magic was being cast on me upon entering. As if someone was watching me, and...”
"And?"
"I think I heard their voice."
[[End of Chapter8C - Ballad|Chapter9C.0]]<<unset $shop1>>\
<<unset $shop2>>\
<<unset $parents>>\
<<unset $games>>\
<<unset $love>>\
<<unset $portrait>>\
<<unset $tarot>>\
<<unset $time>>\
<<unset $shop3>>\
<<unset $koto>>\
<<unset $cards>>\
<<unset $dagger>>\
You have reached the end of the current demo. Please make sure to save if you haven't already.
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Any and all support is greatly appreciated!You take a much needed minute to breathe. Tonight has been a lot and your heart simply refuses to calm down. As you wipe the sweat off your brow you slowly collapse on the edge of the fountain, the slight spray of water against your back a welcome reprieve.
Even now, the dancing continues and the alcohol flows - despite being outside at night the air is heady and sickeningly sweet from all the people pressed up against each other. Once midnight has long passed the music turns just a tad softer, more candid than festive.
Just when you think that you have rested enough, Vynn emerges from the crowd once more, heading towards you - notably without ale or any other beverage.
You are about to make a joke about them being unable to remember such a simple order when you notice the contemplative look on their face.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, immediately on edge.
“I completely forgot that there was something serious I needed to tell you. Nothing to do with the dance. At first I didn’t want to ruin the mood, then I forgot about it, but honestly, maybe this can’t wait…” Vynn trails off uncertainly as they sit back down next to you.
“What? Seriously, what’s going on, did something happen?”
“I know it's the middle of the night and we're both exhausted, but I feel like it can’t wait too much longer. So, bear with me please.”
You look at them curiously, unable to even imagine what this might be about. “I'm listening, Vynn.”
“You witnessed that New Deity sermon yesterday, right? That whole thing seemed weird to me, so out of curiosity, I went to check out their temple. They did offer invitations to everyone, after all. Now, I might just be making stuff up, but their teachings are clearly very centred on humanity, and their rise in popularity coincides with the escalation of tensions between the kingdom and the fae. What if there’s more to that?”
“So, what, you think they are using the conflict to gain followers?” That doesn’t seem all that strange to you.
“No, I don’t think that’s quite it. The faith was founded by a former Queen, right? It could be possible that it’s just a sort of propaganda tool, but then you’d expect it to have some kind of support from the crown. I’m pretty sure Az’Lean doesn’t believe a lick of it.”
“He prays to Wyrd,” you say, frowning. “I’m not sure about the king. I still don’t get what you’re trying to say, though.”
Vynn smiles wryly. “I think the New Deity exists, and that concerns me. What happened during that sermon didn’t seem staged to me. Aside from that, however, when I went to their temple… I felt something strange. As if some type of magic was being cast on me upon entering. As if someone was watching me, and...”
"And?"
"I think I heard their voice."
[[End of Chapter8C - Ballad|Chapter9C.0]]You picture Az'Lean - his sharp eyes, like shards of the sky, stormy and impossibly deep - his half-smile, always guarded - his blonde hair, tucked away so it doesn't get in the way when he fights - the black steel he uses to protect himself, the black steel he uses to hurt others. You think of ice - sharp, fragile, cold, beautiful.
The glow around your hands intensifies and the hooded person hums thoughtfully.
“I see,” they say, their face warping into a frown.
“What is it?” you ask, suddenly nervous. You’re not sure how you’d react if they said that only tragedy awaits you.
<<if $route == 1>>
“It’s not that you’re incompatible. The opposite is true, in fact. Your personalities align, however… It seems like you’re headed down a difficult path. His happiness and your happiness lie at different destinations, so if you want to stay together, one of you has to give something up. You’ll know when the time comes.”
You swallow harshly. Whether what they’re saying is true or not, it plays perfectly into your own doubts.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you press out before quickly leaving the tent. Only a few minutes later do you realise that they said ‘his’ even though you never mentioned Az’Lean or the gender of the person you’re thinking about.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t seem like you’re very compatible. Your personality and his clash, as do your goals. I’d advise against pursuing a serious relationship. In fact, maybe you should keep your distance before something happens that can’t be undone. You’ll only realise when it’s too late.”
You scoff. It’s not like you expected to hear anything different, really, but it still disappoints you for some reason.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you press out before quickly leaving the tent. Only a few minutes later do you realise that they said ‘his’ even though you never mentioned Az’Lean or the gender of the person you’re thinking about.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
“There’s something there - a spark of destiny between you. You’re more than compatible, in fact, you’re two halves of the same coin. A perfect match. However, you don’t quite fit together yet. There are things unsaid, there are doubts in the way. I have faith that you’ll work it out though. Truly, I’m glad for you.”
Your breath hitches. That is honestly a lot more than you expected, and suddenly you feel like you’re under a lot of pressure to make this happen, whatever it is.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say, almost dazed. This is too much. Too much to consider, too much to hope for. As you leave the tent, you think maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
<<endif>>\
You decide it’s best not to dwell on this - you’ll just start spiralling again. It was an interesting diversion, that’s all. Better to think about what you should do next!
<<set $time to $time - 45>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\You picture Vynn - their deep, chocolate brown eyes, warm and rich, deeply comforting - their freckles and sun-kissed skin - their brown curls, unruly and wild, just as untameable as they are - they way they dress themselves in as many colours as possible. You think of music - inspiring, magical, beautiful.
The glow around your hands intensifies and the hooded person hums thoughtfully.
“I see,” they say, a soft smile crawling onto their face.
“What is it?” you ask, suddenly nervous. You’re not sure how you’d react if they said that only tragedy awaits you.
<<if $route == 1>>
“It’s not that you’re incompatible. The opposite is true, in fact. Your personalities align, however… It seems like you’re headed down a difficult path. Their happiness and your happiness lie at different destinations, so if you want to stay together, one of you has to give something up. You’ll know when the time comes.”
You swallow harshly. Whether what they’re saying is true or not, it does make you think about what would make Vynn happy, and how you would fit into it. What if Vynn decides they have enough one day of knighthood and conflict and the kingdom in general. Would you abandon your role as Champion for them?
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you press out before quickly leaving the tent.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
“The two of you seem pretty compatible, all things considered. Your personalities fit well together, as do your goals. It might not always be easy, but there's no reason why the two of you can't be together. I am happy for you, truly. This is a rarity, I have to admit.”
You smile. It’s what you had hoped to hear and you would have accepted nothing less. You and Vynn have been best friends for years, if you aren't a good fit, then who is?
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say before paying and leaving the tent. It's difficult not to keep thinking about this, and you wonder whether it's a good thing to let yourself foster hope like this.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
“There’s something there - a strong bond between you. Your personalities fit well together, as do your goals. It might not always be easy, but there's no reason why the two of you can't be together. I am happy for you, truly. This is a rarity, I have to admit.”
Your breath hitches. That is honestly a lot more than you expected, and suddenly you feel like you’re under a lot of pressure to make this happen, whatever it is.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say, almost dazed. This is too much. Too much to consider, too much to hope for. As you leave the tent, you think maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Fostering hope can be dangerous...
<<endif>>\
You decide it’s best not to dwell on this - you’ll just start overthinking again. It was an interesting diversion, that’s all. Better to think about what you should do next!
<<set $time to $time - 45>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\You picture Maeve - her pitch black eyes, like an endless void, hiding secrets and knowledge alike - her sharp teeth and even sharper wit - soft, pink hair, an impossibility, swaying in the night wind, framing pointed ears - the way she towers over you, protective and unknowable like a tree. You think of the night sky - dark, endless, mysterious, beautiful.
The glow around your hands intensifies and the hooded person hums thoughtfully.
“I see,” they say, their face warping into a frown.
“What is it?” you ask, trying to decipher the meaning of their expression.
<<if $route == 1>>
“You... you must be joking, right? Or thinking of the wrong person? Whoever she is, I fear she not only hates you, but wishes you dead. This is, well, frankly I have never seen a worse match in my life. Then again, whatever she feels about you, however negative it may be, it is very strong. Potent, passionate, in a sense. I feel obligated to warn you. There is no other way for this to go than badly.”
You can't help but smile, deeply amused. That's about what you expected to hear. At least this proves that the divination works.
They slowly release your hands, a bit perturbed by your expression.
“Thank you,” you say politely before paying and leaving the tent. You don't know why you felt the need to do this, but a part of you feels... intrigued? Validated? You don't know. It's just that, imagining Maeve out there, furious as she thinks about you is strangely appealing.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
“You two are a good fit. Your personalities are different, but in a complementary way. There's a lot you can learn from each other, and I can see you carving out a future together. You're not a perfect fit, but you're a good fit. A realistic fit. I am quite happy for you, truly.”
You smile softly. You had hoped to hear something like that. It gives you hope that everything you're doing will work out in the end - that it will all be worth it.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say genuinely before paying and leaving the tent. This was a good use of time you think as warmth blossoms in your chest. Although, what if none of that was accurate? Divinations aren't absolute, after all.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
“You two are a good fit. Your personalities are different, but in a complementary way. There's a lot you can learn from each other, and I can see you carving out a future together. It won't be easy, make no mistake. You're not a perfect fit, but you're a good fit. A realistic fit. The type that requires effort to make it work, but will be more than worth it in the end. I am quite happy for you, truly.”
You smile softly. You had hoped to hear something like that. It gives you hope that everything you're doing will work out in the end - that it will all be worth it.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say genuinely before paying and leaving the tent. This was a good use of time you think as warmth blossoms in your chest. Although, what if none of that was accurate? Divinations aren't absolute, after all.
<<endif>>\
You decide it’s best not to dwell on this too much - you’ll just start overthinking again. It was an interesting diversion, that’s all. Better to think about what you should do next!
<<set $time to $time - 45>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\You picture Lester - his bright green eyes, slit pupils - his grin full of mischief and mirth - his wine red, touseled hair, framing pointed ears - how he moves with grace and energy, sharp and unpredictable. You think of fire - bright, dangerous, warm, a force that can never be controlled.
The glow around your hands intensifies and the hooded person hums thoughtfully.
“I see,” they say, their face warping into a frown.
“What is it?” you ask, trying to decipher the meaning of their expression.
<<if $route == 1>>
“I am sorry to say this, but... It doesn't look like you're a good fit at all. In fact, the closer you get, the more you'll destroy each other. You're like fire and water, water and oil - you repell each other, you cancel each other out. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm saying this for your own good: give up on him. You'll both be hurt at this rate."
You can't help but sigh. Whether this is all true or not, it feeds into all of your doubts and worries. Of course, what were you thinking? You and Lester... ridiculous, isn't it? And still, there is a certain appeal to it. Mutual destruction aside, this dynamic, water and fire, it isn't without intrigue.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say politely before paying and leaving the tent. You don't know why you felt the need to do this, but a part of you feels... satisfied? Validated? You don't know. It's just that, imagining you and Lester, unable to leave each other alone, unable to coexist - however it would end, you're certain it would make you feel something profound.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
“You two are a good fit. Your personalities are different, but in a complementary way. There's a lot you can learn from each other, and I can see you carving out a future together. You're not a perfect fit, but you're a good fit. A realistic fit. I am quite happy for you, truly.”
You smile softly. You had hoped to hear something like that. It gives you hope that everything you're doing will work out in the end - that it will all be worth it.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say genuinely before paying and leaving the tent. This was a good use of time you think as warmth blossoms in your chest. Although, what if none of that was accurate? Divinations aren't absolute, after all.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
“You two are a good fit. Your personalities are different, but in a complementary way. There's a lot you can learn from each other, and I can see you carving out a future together. It won't be easy, make no mistake. You're not a perfect fit, but you're a good fit. A realistic fit. The type that requires effort to make it work, but will be more than worth it in the end. I am quite happy for you, truly.”
You smile softly. You had hoped to hear something like that. It gives you hope that everything you're doing will work out in the end - that it will all be worth it.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say genuinely before paying and leaving the tent. This was a good use of time you think as warmth blossoms in your chest. Although, what if none of that was accurate? Divinations aren't absolute, after all.
<<endif>>\
You decide it’s best not to dwell on this too much - you’ll just start overthinking again. It was an interesting diversion, that’s all. Better to think about what you should do next!
<<set $time to $time - 45>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\You picture Thianne - her bright amber eyes, intelligent and guarded - how they shine admist her warm dark skin and black hair - the way she shrouds herself in her blood red cloak, every step she takes reverberating with hidden magic - her sarcasm and wit, her bone dry humour, the way she doesn't bother to lie. You think of tea - grounding, soothing, warm, sometimes bitter and scorching.
The glow around your hands intensifies and the hooded person hums thoughtfully.
“I see,” they say, their face warping into a frown.
“What is it?” you ask, suddenly nervous. You’re not sure how you’d react if they said that only tragedy awaits you.
<<if $route == 1>>
“It’s not that you’re incompatible. The opposite is true, in fact. Your personalities align, however, there are some pieces between you that don't fit. There are obstacles in your way, some of them outside of your control, that will make it difficult for you to grow truly close. It might still be worth it, or it might end badly. Both possibilities are equally likely, it's up to how you handle it."
You swallow harshly. Whether what they’re saying is true or not, it plays perfectly into your own doubts.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you press out before quickly leaving the tent. All the things they had just said could be applied to anyone, so they're probably not true. Even if they are, you are aware that any kind of relationship for someone like you will be difficult, so it might not even have anything to with Thianne in particular.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 2>>
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t seem like you’re very compatible. Your personality and hers clash, as do your goals. I’d advise against pursuing a serious relationship. In fact, maybe you should keep your distance before something happens that can’t be undone. You’ll only realise when it’s too late.”
You scoff. It’s not like you expected to hear anything different, really, but it still disappoints you for some reason.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you press out before quickly leaving the tent. Only a few minutes later do you realise that they said ‘hers’ even though you never mentioned Thianne or the gender of the person you’re thinking about.
<<endif>>\
<<if $route == 3>>
“There’s something there - hidden potential. You are very compatible, more than you are aware of at this moment. However, it will take work and time to get there. It's like you're on different sides of a river that needs to be crossed. She's not going to come towards you - you will have to be the one to make the effort, as uneven as that sounds. It's up to you whether that will be worth it. I have faith that you’ll work it out though. Truly, I’m glad for you.”
Your breath hitches. That is honestly a lot more than you expected, and suddenly you feel like you’re under a lot of pressure to make this happen, whatever it is.
They slowly release your hands.
“Thank you,” you say, almost dazed. This is too much. Too much to consider, too much to hope for. As you leave the tent, you think maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
<<endif>>\
You decide it’s best not to dwell on this - you’ll just start spiralling again. It was an interesting diversion, that’s all. Better to think about what you should do next!
<<set $time to $time - 45>>\
<<if $time > 29>>
<<if $shop2 is not "yes">> [[You could do some shopping. (30 min)|Chapter8Shop3]]<<endif>>
<<if $portrait is not "yes">> [[Maybe now would be a good time to get a portrait of yourself drawn. (30 min)|Chapter8Portrait3]]<<endif>>
<<else>>
[[It seems like you're out of time. Best to resume your duties.|Chapter8A14]]
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 44>>
<<if $parents is not "yes">>[[You could spend some time walking around with your parents. (45 min)|Chapter8Parents]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\
<<if $time > 59>>
<<if $games is not "yes">> [[You could play some festival games. (60 min)|Chapter8Games]] <<endif>>
<<endif>>\As you are watching Az’Lean greet incoming guests, you spot a bunch of familiar faces further down the road, heading towards you. It is the Hollowpeann family - Vynn’s parents and some of their siblings. You know that Vynn’s relationship with their parents is strained, but they adore their siblings, so you hope their visit ends up being a good thing.
Lord Glen Hollowpeann is leading the group. He is a very tall, very slender man with slicked back brown hair and a clean shaven face. You have never seen him make an expression that isn’t boredom or contempt. Just a step behind him is Lady Lailah Hollowpeann, whose wild black curls reach down to her waist. She is continuously twirling one of the curls around her finger, looking around anxiously.
Behind them follow three of Vynn’s siblings. Rohan, the eldest son and heir to Hollowpeann territory, Miche, the second eldest daughter and a cleric of Yama, the Goddess of family, and the third eldest daughter, Rikarda, who has just recently married into the Trist family. All three of them look excited to be here.
A gaggle of servants are trailing behind them, carrying their luggage.
You have only met Vynn’s family on rare occasions, usually during festivals like these or when the Hollowpeanns had business with the Grahms. Vynn’s father has always approved of your friendship, hoping you would act as a role model for Vynn, and so has always treated you with the necessary respect.
It doesn’t take long for the Hollowpeanns to reach Az’Lean. While Az’Lean is exchanging handshakes with Lord and Lady Hollowpeann, Rohan claps you on the back in greeting.
“Long time no see, $playername,” he says, voice rough and grin bright. “You’ve really made a name for yourself, haven’t you, Champion?”
“I suppose so,” you say. “How have things been on your end?”
“Still looking for a husband,” he says nonchalantly. “You think I have a shot with the prince?”
“Aren’t you a little too old for him?” Miche chimes in, shoving her older brother to the side so she can stand in front of you as well. “Besides, you’re not King material. Like at all. Right, $playername?”
You laugh awkwardly. “Right. How have you been, Miche?”
She just shrugs. “Same old, same old. Say, do you happen to know Vynn’s schedule? We don’t want to bother them while they’re working, but it’s been a while since we had the chance to catch up.”
“I’m not entirely sure on the details, but I know they’ll be performing on day four,” you say, watching idly as Rikarda wanders around in the background, seemingly uninterested in greeting either you or Az’Lean.
“That’s good to know. Will we see you there as well?” Rohan asks.
[[“Of course! I wouldn’t miss Vynn’s performance for the world.”|Chapter8A4]]
[[“I’ll see if I can make time for it.”|Chapter8A4]]
Thianne does in fact want to join you for some tea.
“I can’t wait for all of this to be over,” she says as she takes a sip from her cup. “All of these people, the noise - it’s weighin’ on me, I have to admit.”
“It can get pretty overwhelming,” you agree. “There’s been a few times where I almost lost sight of Az’Lean in a crowd.”
Thianne snorts. “It sucks that I can’t really find enjoyment in this type of event. It’s not like I’m trying to be downer about it.”
“Would you enjoy it more if it were calmer? I bet the way they celebrate the solstice in smaller towns might be more up your alley. Then again, they might just get drunk and call it a day, I don’t know.” You cradle your cup in your hands, trying to imagine it.
“To be honest, I-” Thianne stops herself mid sentence, a look of regret flashing across her face.
You raise an eyebrow waiting for her to continue.
She takes a deep breath as though to steel herself and says: “I was about to say something vulnerable. Don’t tempt me like that, $playername.”
“Don’t force yourself to share anything you don’t want to Thianne, but whatever it is, I wouldn’t give you a hard time for it.”
“Ah, why not. The fact that you’re here with me instead of out there celebratin’ might mean that you’re the type to understand.” She looks you up and down before shrugging. “It’s just, I have a hard time with events like this, and not just because I find them annoyin’. Both this and the Winter Solstice are all about community, friends, family, all that stuff. It’s never been my thing, and I am perfectly happy stickin’ to a small social circle, but… I still feel the pressure. Make connections, be part of the group, ask someone to dance - and all that that symbolises. If I don’t participate in the festival, it’s interpreted as a deliberate choice to reject these things when it’s not.”
There's a moment of silence. You process her words and marvel at the fact that she was able to share them with you.
Thianne lets out a sigh. “I’m ramblin’. The point is, I feel like shit if I participate, but I also feel like shit when I don’t.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me, Thianne. You’re not usually that forthcoming, so this must be bothering you a lot. I’m sorry that you’re struggling with this…” You idly turn your cup around, again and again, a bit unsure of what to say. “Is it like the feeling of being lonely in a crowd?”
“It’s similar to that, yes. I haven’t yet figured out how to deal with it. Sometimes forcin’ myself to participate helps, sometimes it just makes everything worse. No clue what’s up with that.” She averts her gaze. It's not shame, you don't think, but deep frustration at her own limitations. That, at the very least, is something you can understand.
“I think it’s admirable that you’re trying.”
Thianne rolls her eyes. “Now you’re just tryin’ to be nice to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I am always trying to be nice to you.”
“True enough. Thank you for spending your time off like this with me. I didn’t think you would, not that I blame you for yearning for my company.” She shoots you a self-satisfied grin before taking another sip.
“So, what about you? How have you been enjoying the festival so far?”
[[“Honestly, it’s been a blast.”|Chapter8Thianne2]]
[[“I can’t complain, really. At the very least I’m glad nothing terrible has happened so far.”|Chapter8Thianne2]]
[[“I can’t lie, I’ll also be glad when it’s over.”|Chapter8Thianne2]]When you reach the stage, you realise you might have overestimated how long Vynn would take to get ready to perform. They're not even anywhere in sight yet, and a woman with a lovely singing voice and a large harp is the only one occupying the stage at the moment.
To be honest, you're not sure where Vynn might be at this moment. It's entirely possible that they're still in their room. You could make the walk back to the castle in hopes of finding Vynn there, but it does take some time to manouver through the crowds again and again, and then they might not even be there.
For now, you sit down on the edge of the fountain as you ponder what to do. It seems someone else makes the decision for you.
Miche, Vynn’s older sister, has spotted you from across the square. She’s hurrying towards you, white linen skirt bunched up in her hands so as not to trip.
“$playername, fancy meeting you here,” she says when she comes to a halt in front of you. With one smooth motion she straightens her skirt and sits down on the fountain’s edge next to you.
“Good day, Miche. Have you been enjoying the festival so far?” you ask.
She smiles, but there's a strain to it - a weight pulling at the corners of her mouth. “But of course, it’s been all very delightful. Say, $playername, I’m glad I caught you alone like this. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, if it’s not too much of a bother.”
So this isn't just small talk, is it? You can't help but feel somewhat on edge. Miche and you are on friendly, polite terms, but she's older than you and you don't know her personal life very well, so it's strange that she'd come to you for advice. Unless, of course, this is about Vynn.
“Is something bothering you? I’m willing to lend an ear, in any case?”
Your suspicions are immediately proven correct.
“It’s just - we’ve not been hearing much from Vynn lately. I know you must be busy, being the Champion and all, and it’s certainly not your responsibility to look after them, but…” Miche starts wringing her hands. “I am well aware of the fact that Vynn doesn’t particularly enjoy knighthood, and seeing as you were officially knighted last month, I thought they’d be up in arms about it. Complaining to us, picking fights with our parents, trying to take a stand - that’s what I expected from them. Instead, there’s been nothing but silence. Do you know what’s going on?”
As far as you're aware, Vynn’s feelings on the matter indeed have not changed. More than likely, the reason they’re not making a fuss about it is because it would draw attention to them, and now that they’re in on your secret, well, that would be less than favourable. Or is it perhaps too self-centred to think yourself the cause for this? You could be wrong. Either way it’s not something you can discuss with Miche, well-intentioned as she may be.
But then, what do you say?
[[“Being an official knight is very different from being a squire. It’s a lot for Vynn to process, so they’ll probably just need some more time. We should be patient with them, wouldn’t you say?”|Chapter8Vynn2]]
[[“I haven’t observed any sort of change in them myself. Maybe it has nothing to do with knighthood at all.”|Chapter8Vynn2]]
[[“We’ve all just been so busy, is all. Surely you’ve heard what’s been going on - trouble near the border, infiltrations into the castle… I wouldn’t be surprised if Vynn hasn’t even had the time to think about family matters at all.”|Chapter8Vynn2]]
It doesn't take long for you to find Lester. He's with a group of kids, teaching them how to 'win' at the strength tester. The fact that neither he nor they are particularly strong in the physical sense makes you think there might be some cheating involved. Then again, these types of games are more often than not rigged anyways, so who's to say what's fair and what's not.
A scrawny girl hefts the mallot over her shoulder and let's it come crashing down on the target at a very peculiar angle. The strength tester proclaims her to be at the level of 'The Goddess of War'.
You watch until they're finished and the kids move on to the next game before approaching Lester.
“I didn’t know you were good with children,” you say as you sidle up next to him.
He whirls around in surprise but relaxes when he sees it’s you. “Yeah, well, what can I say - they’re easily manipulated into liking you. They believe most things you tell them, are easily impressed by magic and trickery, and they immediately respect you when you’re willing to bend a few rules.”
You can't help but mirror his mirth. “Careful, Lester, someone might mistake you for a scoundrel, corrupting the kingdom’s youth.”
Lester barks a laugh, though it sounds a bit sharper than you would've liked. “Thanks for the warning, Champ. I wouldn’t ever want to do something that could possibly harm my flawless reputation.”
Point most certainly taken. Though speaking of half-fae, you can't help but think back to the old half-fae woman you came across two days ago. You wonder whether she's still in the city and hope she's doing fine.
“Not to ruin this jolly mood, but I have to ask… How are things for you with this many people around? I have seen a few half-fae visitors around, but not many. I hope they aren’t being treated too badly.”
Lester lets out a long sigh. “I do appreciate your concern, $playername, but you’re not gonna like any kind of answer I can give you. It’s not like I’m an authority on the matter, though I do like to look out for that sort of… discrimination, not that I’m in any position to stop it. It’s bad, $playername, and that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter.”
You silently curse yourself as you instantly come to regret your choice of conversation topic. Of course it's tough for half-fae, Lester is probably sick of having to talk or think about it.
“Right, I understand. Though if you know anything that could be done to improve the situation, let me know.”
There's a dangerous glint in Lester's eyes. “Oh, I know a few things that could be done - not that you have the power to do any of them.”
“Still…” It stings to hear that, even if it is true.
His gaze immediately softens. “Don’t be like that, Champ. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself right now. Don’t tell me you just sought me out to talk about <i>work</i>.”
“No, of course not. Admittedly, I find it difficult to relax sometimes.”
“So you want me to help with that? Not a problem. Let’s play some games, then. I mean, they’re all rigged to the Otherworld and back, and I <i>will</i> be cheating, but I’m sure there’s some fun to be had for you regardless. What do you say?” As much as it is an invitation, it is also a challenge.
[[“You’re on, Lester.”|Chapter8Lester2]]
It's a shame that you have to spend your day off trying to get someone's blood without arousing suspicion. To be honest, a part of you really doesn't want to do it. Surely you could try talking with Thianne about it again? Maybe she'd let you off the hook or at least give you more time... Telling Az'Lean the truth isn't what you'd want to do either, though. Doing nothing would leave it up to Thianne's discretiion and likely end badly for you.
You take a deep breath, realising that you're going to spiral if you don't keep your thoughts in check.
You should think about it this way: You can still decide what to do after you've gotten Thianne's blood. It's just to give you more options. Insurance, if you will.
Now the question remains: how are you going to do it? Attacking her directly is out of the question, so you need to manufacture a situation in which she'll spill just a few drops of blood.
Your mind is racing as you try desperately to come up with something that isn't utterly ridiculous. Could you goad her into a dangerous activity and hope for the best? <i>Hey Thianne, do you want to play the knife game with me?</i> You know for a fact she's just going to refuse and call you an idiot.
Could you hire someone else to hurt her? Your stomach churns at the mere thought of it. No, that's too much of a risk and cop-out. This is your mess, you need to fix it yourself.
Your mind stutters. Of course, there's something you can do. Something you in particular can do. How in the Otherworld did it take you this long to even consider it?
You're a <i>changeling</i>. You can just change into someone else and go from there. Maybe you could pretend to be a fortune teller who needs a drop of blood to perform divinations! That might not even be that hard to pull off.
As anticipation starts to fill you, your steps quicken and you run back to your room. You'll need to be careful with what you wear, and how you speak. You'll need materials to set up a small stall somewhere, and you'll need to somehow get Thianne to try it out. This isn't going to be easy, and you've never really used your ability before but...
You can't help but feel a certain thrill at the thought of tricking someone like that. The nature of a changeling, is that it?
Once you're back in your room, you pick the most non-descript outfit you own, something you know Thianne hasn't seen you in yet. You might have to burn it afterwards. With hands shaking from excitement you change into it, ending up in front of your mirror.
This is it...
You take a deep breath, centre yourself, and release the hold on your magic. Without looking at your reflection too closely, you change into...
[[An old woman with pale skin and grey hair. That's what a fortune teller looks like, right?|Chapter8blood2a]]
[[A middle-aged man with dark skin and an impressive mustache. You're going for an air of mystery.|Chapter8blood2b]]
[[A teenager with unkempt hair and a thin, frail body. Thianne might take pity on them.|Chapter8blood2c]]You head back to your room and lazily stretch out across your bed. After all, you don't often get the opportunity to simply lounge around.
“Maeve,” you call out into the nothingness of your room. “Are you there? Up for a chat?”
She appears standing in front of your bed almost instantantly. “I’m always up for a chat, $playername, though is it business or pleasure?”
Her word choice makes your mind stutter for a second but you ignore it. “Pleasure, in that case. I need a breather, and only really want to talk about nice things.”
“So you’re seeking respite. ‘Tis something I can provide, sure enough.” She sits down at the edge of the bet, looking down at you with an amused grin. “Should I tell you about how we’ve been celebrating at the grove this year?”
You nod, sleepily blinking up at her. It's strange how calming her presence is, all things considered. A fae woman who can just appear in your room whenever she wishes, someone you don't even know that well, someone you could have never imagined talking so casually with just weeks ago - and yet it feels entirely natural, the way she sits at the edge of your bed, slightly hunched over towards you.
When she begins to speak, her voice is all but hypnotic, erasing any tension you have left.
“We have gotten a lot of visitors at our grove this year. Many fae decided to make an appearance, some are even staying for a while. It hasn’t been this lively in ages. Music is playing at all times, one of my sisters has gotten out her old flute and only stops playing to eat or gossip. Speaking of the food - with visitors come delicacies we can’t normally have. An entire crate full of plum wine! Candied grapes, too, and golden apples, even some starlight roots - though I don’t suppose you know what they are. They’re these small, round bits, gathered from the earth from certain flowers, and they taste spicy and sweet at the same time.”
“Do you play games as well?”
“What do you think? Of course we do! We put up a floating race course, though of course the pixies tend to win. There’s competitions for all sorts of things, and games of chance are especially popular. When it’s late and everyone is merry but too tired to move around, we tell each other riddles. Sometimes they’re more like jokes, but some really are difficult to figure out.”
“What about the Midnight Dance? Is that a tradition you have as well?”
“That’s the dance tonight, right? We do that as well, though we don’t call it that. We believe it binds people together, so we make it a point to switch partners after every song. The aim is to get everyone connected, and no one left out.”
“That’s different for us. We usually stick to one partner, who we dance with all night long.”
“That’s… maybe more lonely, but definitely more romantic. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying that out.” Maeve looks down at you with a mirthful glint in her eyes.
[[“Would you now?”|Chapter8Maeve3]]You head to the castle gardens with the intention to see if there's any opportunity to chat with Maeve. It seems that the festival's need for increased security in the city proper has pulled a number of guards away from the castle itself, including the gardens. You notice there's someone guarding the entrances, but not the area around the willow itself. As long as you're careful, it should be fine.
There are a few nobles milling about, out on walks, but you don't mind waiting for them to leave. You make yourself comfortable in the willow's shade, enjoying the slight summer breeze and allowing yourself to relax. It takes a while, but eventually you are the only one left in the gardens, and so you decide to take the chance and call out to Maeve.
“Maeve? Are you there? Do you have some time to chat?”
“$playername? Is the coast clear?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, almost lost in the rustling of leaves above you.
“Yes, it should be fine. I’m monitoring the entrance, you can come out. Just make sure to stay behind the trunk.”
She materialises next to you, a hopeful grin on her face, though there is apprehension there as well. “It’s been a few days since we had the opportunity to talk properly. How are you doing? How has the festival been? Any incidents? Any thing we need to discuss?”
You can barely keep up with her barrage of questions.
“I’ve been doing well so far. It’s been a bit hectic, but fun overall. No concerning incidents as of yet, though they did announce that the production of magical barrier devices is officially underway. Though, let’s use this time to talk only about nice things, okay? I could really use a breather.”
“But of course, I understand completely. ‘Tis an honour that you would come to me for your respite. Let us sit down, and I’ll tell you all about how we’ve been celebrating the solstice in our grove.”
The two of you make yourselves comfortable, sitting side by side, arms just barely touching. As Maeve begins to talk, her voice lulling you into a sense of peace, you still keep an ever watchful eye out for anyone that might suddenly enter the gardens.
“We have gotten a lot of visitors at our grove this year. Many fae decided to make an appearance, some are even staying for a while. It hasn’t been this lively in ages. Music is playing at all times, one of my sisters has gotten out her old flute and only stops playing to eat or gossip. Speaking of the food - with visitors come delicacies we can’t normally have. An entire crate full of plum wine! Candied grapes, too, and golden apples, even some starlight roots - though I don’t suppose you know what they are. They’re these small, round bits, gathered from the earth from certain flowers, and they taste spicy and sweet at the same time.”
“Do you play games as well?”
“What do you think? Of course we do! We put up a floating race course, though of course the pixies tend to win. There’s competitions for all sorts of things, and games of chance are especially popular. When it’s late and everyone is merry but too tired to move around, we tell each other riddles. Sometimes they’re more like jokes, but some really are difficult to figure out.”
“What about the Midnight Dance? Is that a tradition you have as well?”
“That’s the dance tonight, right? We do that as well, though we don’t call it that. We believe it binds people together, so we make it a point to switch partners after every song. The aim is to get everyone connected, and no one left out.”
“That’s different for us. We usually stick to one partner, who we dance with all night long.”
“That’s… maybe more lonely, but definitely more romantic. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying that out.” Maeve looks down at you with a mirthful glint in her eyes.
[[“Would you now?”|Chapter8Maeve4]]You slowly change into the appearance of an old woman. It's jarring to watch your body contort, to feel your bones and skin shift and contract as you seem to shrink into yourself. Interestingly enough, there's no pain accompanied with it, not even any discomfort brought on by old age. Truly, it is a magical change more than a physical one, even though you can feel it with your senses.
With a surreal sense of disassociation, you check yourself once more to make sure that everything looks fine. It feels like you're inspecting the body of a stranger. Maybe that's exactly what you're doing.
Once you're finished, you slowly open the door of your room to make sure the coast is clear out on the corridor. It wouldn't do to have a random old woman be seen leaving the Champion's chambers, after all.
You don't spot anyone in the immediate vicinity, so you feel comfortable leaving your room. With smaller steps than usual you make your way out of the castle. Before you head into the city proper, you stop by a storage room near the training grounds where you know smaller tents to be kept. You pick a deep purple one with a large, inviting opening - perfect for a fotune teller. You can't really carry two chairs and a table as well, so this will have to do for now.
Once you reach the marketplace, you're not suprised to see that there isn't really much space available to pitch yet another fotune telling tent. Everything has been planned in advance, naturally, and luckily for you, you attended most of those meetings. You know exactly where Az'Lean decided to leave some open spaces to prevent overcrowding, and you'll use that to your advantage.
It is all very calculated on your part, and your efficiency scares you. The last two days, Thianne has been spending a good amount of time on the balcony reserved for the royal family and company. As soon as there's something being performed that she's interested in, she'll likely head there again today. Knowing this, you find the perfect spot to pitch your tent - she'll have to pass by here.
You widen the tents opening as far as you can and sit down inside of it, cross-legged on the ground. You don't bother advertising - after all, you don't actually want to get any customers. No, you'll wait for Thianne and then invite her inside directly. In your pocket is a sowing needle with her name on it and a white piece of cloth to catch the blood.
As you wait for your plan to work out or fail dramatically, your heart begins to race. Anxiety mixes with excitement and a most insidious feeling of power and freedom. No one knows who you are right now - no one can judge you for what you're doing.
The moment arrives sooner than you want - maybe sooner than you're ready for. Thianne is walking down the street, amber eyes idly looking around.
Now, how can you convince her to try your blood divination?
First, you'll need to get her attention. An idea forms in your mind - you're not certain it's a good one. After all, if Thianne thinks this person is suspicious, she might think it's actually you. That's the whole problem - her knowing the truth about you.
Still, you can't do this without risking something.
“Excuse me, miss? If you’re headed to the balcony again, let me warn you. They’re out of tea in there, and I just saw in my divination that you would be craving some soon,” you say, trying your best to sound like a kind old woman.
With this, Thianne should be at least somewhat intrigued. At the very least, she stops walking and looks at you. Her brow is furrowed, but more in confusion than in suspicion. She blinks at you a few times before finally deciding to head over.
“What kind of divination?” she asks in lieu of any niceties. It’s honestly amusing to observe how Thianne talks to strangers.
“Oh, I can do all kinds! Water divination, tarot card readings - but I specialise in blood divination. I just had a look at my own blood, and I saw this exact conversation,” you say, smiling cryptically.
Thianne’s eyebrow rises slowly. “What am I goin’ to say next?”
“Nothing. You’ll just stand there, not believing me, before scoffing and walking off. Of course, now that I’ve said that, you’ll likely do something else,” you say.
[[You really hope that you sound confident and not like a lunatic.|Chapter8blood3]]
You slowly change into the appearance of a middle-aged man. It's jarring to watch your body contort, to feel your bones and skin shift and expand as you seem to grow and broaden just a bit. Interestingly enough, there's no pain accompanied with it, not even any discomfort. Truly, it is a magical change more than a physical one, even though you can feel it with your senses.
With a surreal sense of disassociation, you check yourself once more to make sure that everything looks fine. It feels like you're inspecting the body of a stranger. Maybe that's exactly what you're doing.
Once you're finished, you slowly open the door of your room to make sure the coast is clear out on the corridor. It wouldn't do to have a random stranger be seen leaving the Champion's chambers, after all.
You don't spot anyone in the immediate vicinity, so you feel comfortable leaving your room. With larger steps than usual you make your way out of the castle. Before you head into the city proper, you stop by a storage room near the training grounds where you know smaller tents to be kept. You pick a deep purple one with a large, inviting opening - perfect for a fotune teller. You can't really carry two chairs and a table as well, so this will have to do for now.
Once you reach the marketplace, you're not suprised to see that there isn't really much space available to pitch yet another fotune telling tent. Everything has been planned in advance, naturally, and luckily for you, you attended most of those meetings. You know exactly where Az'Lean decided to leave some open spaces to prevent overcrowding, and you'll use that to your advantage.
It is all very calculated on your part, and your efficiency scares you. The last two days, Thianne has been spending a good amount of time on the balcony reserved for the royal family and company. As soon as there's something being performed that she's interested in, she'll likely head there again today. Knowing this, you find the perfect spot to pitch your tent - she'll have to pass by here.
You widen the tents opening as far as you can and sit down inside of it, cross-legged on the ground. You don't bother advertising - after all, you don't actually want to get any customers. No, you'll wait for Thianne and then invite her inside directly. In your pocket is a sowing needle with her name on it and a white piece of cloth to catch the blood.
As you wait for your plan to work out or fail dramatically, your heart begins to race. Anxiety mixes with excitement and a most insidious feeling of power and freedom. No one knows who you are right now - no one can judge you for what you're doing.
The moment arrives sooner than you want - maybe sooner than you're ready for. Thianne is walking down the street, amber eyes idly looking around.
Now, how can you convince her to try your blood divination?
First, you'll need to get her attention. An idea forms in your mind - you're not certain it's a good one. After all, if Thianne thinks this person is suspicious, she might think it's actually you. That's the whole problem - her knowing the truth about you.
Still, you can't do this without risking something.
“Excuse me, milady? If you’re headed to the balcony again, let me warn you. They’re out of tea in there, and I just saw in my divination that you would be craving some soon,” you say, trying your best to sound like a man looking to reel in customers.
With this, Thianne should be at least somewhat intrigued. At the very least, she stops walking and looks at you. Her brow is furrowed, but more in confusion than in suspicion. She blinks at you a few times before finally deciding to head over.
“What kind of divination?” she asks in lieu of any niceties. It’s honestly amusing to observe how Thianne talks to strangers.
“Oh, I can do a great variety! Water divination, tarot card readings - but I specialise in blood divination. I just had a look at my own blood, and I saw this exact conversation,” you say, smiling cryptically.
Thianne’s eyebrow rises slowly. “What am I goin’ to say next?”
“Nothing. You’ll just stand there, not believing me, before scoffing and walking off. Of course, now that I’ve said that, you’ll likely do something else,” you say.
[[You really hope that you sound confident and not like a lunatic.|Chapter8blood3]]You slowly change into the appearance of teenager. It's jarring to watch your body contort, to feel your bones and skin shift and contract as you seem to shrink into yourself. Interestingly enough, there's no pain accompanied with it, not even any discomfort. Truly, it is a magical change more than a physical one, even though you can feel it with your senses.
With a surreal sense of disassociation, you check yourself once more to make sure that everything looks fine. It feels like you're inspecting the body of a stranger. Maybe that's exactly what you're doing.
Once you're finished, you slowly open the door of your room to make sure the coast is clear out on the corridor. It wouldn't do to have a random kid be seen leaving the Champion's chambers, after all.
You don't spot anyone in the immediate vicinity, so you feel comfortable leaving your room. With smaller steps than usual you make your way out of the castle. Before you head into the city proper, you stop by a storage room near the training grounds where you know smaller tents to be kept. You pick a deep purple one with a large, inviting opening - perfect for a fotune teller. You can't really carry two chairs and a table as well, so this will have to do for now.
Once you reach the marketplace, you're not suprised to see that there isn't really much space available to pitch yet another fotune telling tent. Everything has been planned in advance, naturally, and luckily for you, you attended most of those meetings. You know exactly where Az'Lean decided to leave some open spaces to prevent overcrowding, and you'll use that to your advantage.
It is all very calculated on your part, and your efficiency scares you. The last two days, Thianne has been spending a good amount of time on the balcony reserved for the royal family and company. As soon as there's something being performed that she's interested in, she'll likely head there again today. Knowing this, you find the perfect spot to pitch your tent - she'll have to pass by here.
You widen the tents opening as far as you can and sit down inside of it, cross-legged on the ground. You don't bother advertising - after all, you don't actually want to get any customers. No, you'll wait for Thianne and then invite her inside directly. In your pocket is a sowing needle with her name on it and a white piece of cloth to catch the blood.
As you wait for your plan to work out or fail dramatically, your heart begins to race. Anxiety mixes with excitement and a most insidious feeling of power and freedom. No one knows who you are right now - no one can judge you for what you're doing.
The moment arrives sooner than you want - maybe sooner than you're ready for. Thianne is walking down the street, amber eyes idly looking around.
Now, how can you convince her to try your blood divination?
First, you'll need to get her attention. An idea forms in your mind - you're not certain it's a good one. After all, if Thianne thinks this person is suspicious, she might think it's actually you. That's the whole problem - her knowing the truth about you.
Still, you can't do this without risking something.
“Excuse me, lady? If you’re headed to the balcony again, let me warn you. They’re out of tea in there, and I just saw in my divination that you would be craving some soon,” you say, trying your best to sound like a scrappy teenager.
With this, Thianne should be at least somewhat intrigued. At the very least, she stops walking and looks at you. Her brow is furrowed, but more in confusion than in suspicion. She blinks at you a few times before finally deciding to head over.
“What kind of divination?” she asks in lieu of any niceties. It’s honestly amusing to observe how Thianne talks to strangers.
“Oh, I can do all kinds, I swear! Water divination, tarot card readings - but I specialise in blood divination. I just had a look at my own blood, and I saw this exact conversation,” you say, smiling cryptically.
Thianne’s eyebrow rises slowly. “What am I goin’ to say next?”
“Nothing. You’ll just stand there, not believing me, before scoffing and walking off. Of course, now that I’ve said that, you’ll likely do something else,” you say.
[[You really hope that you sound confident and not like a lunatic.|Chapter8blood3]]Vynn is and will probably always be the obvious choice as a dance partner for the Midnight Dance. Whether it really does bind people together or not, you've already danced with them in the past, so there's never a reason not to.
Besides, you're more than comfortable with them, you know that they're a good dancer, and they're sure to accept your invitation. Dancing with them would be as natural as breathing. That being said, there's the matter of how you're going to ask them.
You've always been best friends, but that doesn't mean you have to define your relationship as just that. You like Vynn a lot, and they're no longer the kid you grew up with.
[[You decide to ask them to dance as friends, like always.|Chapter8Vynnfriends]]
[[Is there really any need to specify? You'll just ask them to dance. There's no need to categorise your relationship.|Chapter8Vynn]]
[[Fuck it. You decide to ask them to dance romantically.|Chapter8Vynnromance]]You don't really know how Az'Lean feels about you at the moment, but that makes it all the more important to show him how you feel. If he can believe that you genuinely care about him, then maybe he'll be able to trust you more. Asking him to accompany you to the Midnight Dance might be able to convey that.
Considering that you are a noble and the Champion, people wouldn't be surprised to see you and the prince dancing together - though they'll probably still gossip about it. You don't much care about that. If anything, you worry that Az'Lean will simply turn you down. You wouldn't fault him for not wanting to dance with a changeling, to be sure.
Despite that, you have made up your mind. Az'Lean is the person you'd like to dance with the most. All that's left is to decide how you're going to ask him.
[[Ask him casually. At this stage, you're not even sure if you would consider each other friends, so if he wants your relationship to remain professional, you can't argue against that.|Chapter8Azfriends]]
[[Ask him properly, making it clear that this invitation is due to your desire to grow closer to him as a person. You don't necessarily consider this an attempt at courting him, but you don't want your dynamic to be Prince and Champion forever.|Chapter8Azrom]]Thianne is one of the few people who know your secret. You feel like you get along well enough, she's intelligent, not nearly as cold as she pretends to be, and her dry sense of humour is oddly charming. Certainly, you wouldn't mind growing a bit closer to her.
There's no harm in just asking her. If she says no, you know not to take that personally. Dancing doesn't seem to be her kind of activity anyway. That being said, how are you going to go about asking her?
[[You'll make it obvious that you're only asking to dance with her platonically. You don't want to give her the wrong impression.|Chapter8Thiannefriends]]
[[You'll just ask her to dance. There's no need to define anything at this point. Let's see where this goes.|Chapter8Thianneromance]]Lester seems to be at least somewhat interested in you as a person, you believe he is a genuinely good guy, and he's fun to be around. There's no reason not to grow closer to him from your perspective, whether you believe in the Midnight Dance's ability to bind destinies together or not.
It is up to Lester to accept your invitation of course, though you don't think he'll refuse unless he has plans of his own. Deciding to ask Lester isn't so much the problem as deciding <i>how</i> to ask him. If you don't state your intentions explicitly, he might come up with his own interpretation.
[[Make it clear that you are only asking to dance with him platonically.|Chapter8Lesterfriend]]
[[Is there really a need to define anything? You'll just ask him to dance, and if he wants to see that as an invitation to flirt, well, you wouldn't be opposed to it either way.|Chapter8Lesterrom]]What drives you at this moment isn't the desire to be closer to anyone. You could take this opportunity to dance with Vynn, or with Az'Lean, or with Thianne, and use this to further your relationship with them. You could focus on having a good time, on making some positive memories to get you through the dark times that lie ahead.
None of that interests you at this moment. All that's on your mind is the overwhelming urge to go and look at the crater you left behind in the middle of the gardens - to observe the remnants of your connection with Maeve, destroyed beyond repair. Whatever there could have existed between you and her has been reduced, quite literally, to ash and nothing. The significance of it calls to you this night.
When you arrive at the gardens, you find yourself entirely alone. This would have been the perfect opportunity to meet with Maeve under different circumstances. As it stands, the solitude is of no use to you. If anything, it allows you to begin ruminating, uninterrupted.
You don't know what you're thinking when you approach the hole in the ground where the willow's roots have been completely dug out. You don't know what's driving you even closer until you are standing in the middle of it, your shoes stuck uncomfortably in the dirt. You aren't wearing your boots tonight - you're not dressed for a fight.
Despite the fact that it's approaching midnight, it's still light out. Is Maeve celebrating tonight as well? Can she see the last lingering rays of sunlight from her grove? Is she pacing back and forth, furious at you? Has she forgotten about you completely?
You find that you don't want her to. You want her to to think about you, to wonder about what you're doing, even if it is to plan against you. If you ever do meet Maeve again, you want to see <i>something</i> on her face, any kind of emotion at all - something to indicate that you made on impact on her, that you left an impression she is now forever unable to get rid off.
With increasingly darkening thoughts in your head, you crouch down, eyes scanning the ground for any remains of the weeping willow's roots. You want a physical piece of it, as a reminder, as something you can touch and carry with you. A broken shard of connection.
You run your hands through the coarse dirt, combing for anything you can find. There are small rocks, some weeds, some bugs, curled up and ready to sleep. If you want to find any roots, you'll need to dig deeper.
You do dig deeper, feeling quite like a treasure hunter but undoubtedly looking like you've lost your mind. It takes a while, many minutes, perhaps an hour, until you find something. A small, dried piece of root, poking out of the ground, just barely as large as your thumb.
As your fingers curl around the buried piece of root, unimaginable pain shoots through your hands, up your arms and into your shoulders, threatening to rip you apart from the inside. <i>It burns.</i> It feels like the skin of your palms is on fire, and when you look down, you see that they are indeed red and blistering.
Immediately, you let go, trying to get yourself upright even though everything is screaming at you to lie down and start sobbing. <i>It feels like you're dying.</i>
What is this, some kind of punishment? Some kind of vengeance, inherent to the roots magical qualities? Deep, black bitterness fills you, like sludge clinging to your insides. You want to know who's fault this is. You want to knoy <i>why</i>. You want to know what Maeve is thinking right now. You want to see her.
You look down at your burned hands, gingerly touching the ruined skin.
[[The pain shocks you into action, and you find yourself leaving the gardens in a hurry, sprinting down into the city instead.|Chapter8ADanceM]]Vynn is and will probably always be the obvious choice as a dance partner for the Midnight Dance. Whether it really does bind people together or not, you've already danced with them in the past, so there's never a reason not to.
Besides, you're more than comfortable with them, you know that they're a good dancer, and they're sure to accept your invitation. Dancing with them would be as natural as breathing. That being said, there's the matter of how you're going to ask them.
You've always been best friends, but that doesn't mean you have to define your relationship as just that. You like Vynn a lot, and they're no longer the kid you grew up with.
[[You decide to ask them to dance as friends, like always.|Chapter8Vynnfriends]]
[[Is there really any need to specify? You'll just ask them to dance. There's no need to categorise your relationship.|Chapter8Vynn]]
[[Fuck it. You decide to ask them to dance romantically.|Chapter8Vynnromance]]You know this is probably a bad idea, considering that you are actively deceiving Az'Lean, but is that really a reason not to spend time together? If it's just about having fun and enjoying each other's company, then why not? Having the prince as your partner during the Midnight Dance - who wouldn't want that?
Considering that you are a noble and the Champion, people wouldn't be surprised to see you and the prince dancing together - though they'll probably still gossip about it. You don't much care about that. If anything, you worry that Az'Lean will simply turn you down. That would sting a bit, though you would have to commend him for his good intuition. Honestly, he probably <i>should</i> turn you down.
Despite that, you have made up your mind. Az'Lean is the person you'd like to dance with the most. All that's left is to decide how you're going to ask him.
[[Ask him casually. There's no greater meaning in your invitation beyond the desire to spend time with him.|Chapter8Azfriends]]
[[Ask him properly, making it clear that this invitation is due to your desire to grow closer to him as a person. You don't necessarily consider this an attempt at courting him, but you don't want your dynamic to be just professional.|Chapter8Azrom]]You can't help but think of Thianne. You feel like you get along well enough, she's intelligent, not nearly as cold as she pretends to be, and her dry sense of humour is oddly charming. Certainly, you wouldn't mind growing a bit closer to her.
There's no harm in just asking her. If she says no, you know not to take that personally. Dancing doesn't seem to be her kind of activity anyway. That being said, how are you going to go about asking her?
[[You'll make it obvious that you're only asking to dance with her platonically. You don't want to give her the wrong impression.|Chapter8Thiannefriends]]
[[You'll just ask her to dance. There's no need to define anything at this point. Let's see where this goes.|Chapter8Thianneromance]]Lester is one of the few people who know your secret, you believe he is a genuinely good guy and he's fun to be around. There's no reason not to grow closer to him from your perspective, whether you believe in the Midnight Dance's ability to bind destinies together or not.
It is up to Lester to accept your invitation of course, though you don't think he'll refuse unless he has plans of his own. Deciding to ask Lester isn't so much the problem as deciding <i>how</i> to ask him. If you don't state your intentions explicitly, he might come up with his own interpretation.
[[Make it clear that you are only asking to dance with him platonically.|Chapter8Lesterfriend]]
[[Is there really a need to define anything? You'll just ask him to dance, and if he wants to see that as an invitation to flirt, well, you wouldn't be opposed to it either way.|Chapter8Lesterrom]]You suppose you could check the castle gardens for an opportunity to spend time with Maeve. There wouldn't be any music for you to dance to, but isn't it the thought that counts? Besides, there's no one you would rather grow closer to than her.
With that decision being made, the question remains how you want to approach this. Is this just an effort to grow closer to a trusted friend and ally? Would you be opposed to it being more than that? And how do you plan on conveying your intentions to Maeve? There's cultural differences between you - if you're not clear, you don't know how she will interpret the gesture.
[[This is just a platonic invitation to spend time together, and you'll make sure to say as much to Maeve.|Chapter8BMaevefriend]]
[[Is there any reason to define your relationship so distinctly? You'll just invite her and see how it goes. If she interprets this as an attempt to flirt, you wouldn't mind.|Chapter8BMaeverom]]Vynn is and will probably always be the obvious choice as a dance partner for the Midnight Dance. Whether it really does bind people together or not, you've already danced with them in the past, so there's never a reason not to.
Besides, you're more than comfortable with them, you know that they're a good dancer, and they're sure to accept your invitation. Dancing with them would be as natural as breathing. That being said, there's the matter of how you're going to ask them.
You've always been best friends, but that doesn't mean you have to define your relationship as just that. You like Vynn a lot, and they're no longer the kid you grew up with.
[[You decide to ask them to dance as friends, like always.|Chapter8Vynnfriends]]
[[Is there really any need to specify? You'll just ask them to dance. There's no need to categorise your relationship.|Chapter8Vynn]]
[[Fuck it. You decide to ask them to dance romantically.|Chapter8Vynnromance]]You don't really know how Az'Lean feels about you at the moment, but that makes it all the more important to show him how you feel. If he can believe that you genuinely care about him, then maybe he'll be able to trust you more. Asking him to accompany you to the Midnight Dance might be able to convey that. You want him to know that you care about him beyond just your duties.
Considering that you are a noble and the Champion, people wouldn't be surprised to see you and the prince dancing together - though they'll probably still gossip about it. You don't much care about that. If anything, you worry that Az'Lean will simply turn you down. You don't claim to understand his perspective on all of this, but you can see him being hesitant.
Despite that, you have made up your mind. Az'Lean is the person you'd like to dance with the most. All that's left is to decide how you're going to ask him.
[[Ask him casually. There's no greater meaning in your invitation beyond the desire to spend time with him.|Chapter8Azfriends]]
[[Ask him properly, making it clear that this invitation is due to your desire to grow closer to him as a person. You don't necessarily consider this an attempt at courting him, but you don't want your dynamic to be just professional.|Chapter8Azrom]]You can't help but think of Thianne. You feel like you get along well enough, she's intelligent, not nearly as cold as she pretends to be, and her dry sense of humour is oddly charming. Certainly, you wouldn't mind growing a bit closer to her.
There's no harm in just asking her. If she says no, you know not to take that personally. Dancing doesn't seem to be her kind of activity anyway. That being said, how are you going to go about asking her?
[[You'll make it obvious that you're only asking to dance with her platonically. You don't want to give her the wrong impression.|Chapter8Thiannefriends]]
[[You'll just ask her to dance. There's no need to define anything at this point. Let's see where this goes.|Chapter8Thianneromance]]Lester seems to be at least somewhat interested in you as a person, you believe he is a genuinely good guy, and he's fun to be around. There's no reason not to grow closer to him from your perspective, whether you believe in the Midnight Dance's ability to bind destinies together or not.
It is up to Lester to accept your invitation of course, though you don't think he'll refuse unless he has plans of his own. Deciding to ask Lester isn't so much the problem as deciding <i>how</i> to ask him. If you don't state your intentions explicitly, he might come up with his own interpretation.
[[Make it clear that you are only asking to dance with him platonically.|Chapter8Lesterfriend]]
[[Is there really a need to define anything? You'll just ask him to dance, and if he wants to see that as an invitation to flirt, well, you wouldn't be opposed to it either way.|Chapter8Lesterrom]]Why not just stay in your room and spend the evening with Maeve? There wouldn't be any music for you to dance to, but isn't it the thought that counts? Besides, there's no one you would rather grow closer to than her.
With that decision being made, the question remains how you want to approach this. Is this just an effort to grow closer to a trusted friend and ally? Would you be opposed to it being more than that? And how do you plan on conveying your intentions to Maeve? There's cultural differences between you - if you're not clear, you don't know how she will interpret the gesture.
[[This is just a platonic invitation to spend time together, and you'll make sure to say as much to Maeve.|Chapter8CMaevefriend]]
[[Is there any reason to define your relationship so distinctly? You'll just invite her and see how it goes. If she interprets this as an attempt to flirt, you wouldn't mind.|Chapter8CMaeverom]]<<set $lie to $lie + 2>>\
She looks like she's fighting an internal battle before letting out a sigh.
“Fine, I’ll bite. What are you trying to sell me?”
You smile. “For just one gold coin and a single drop of blood, I can look at the next twenty-four hours of your life in great detail."
In the fashion of a real salesperson, you spread your hands, beckoning her to come inside.
“Just one gold coin?” she says, looking you and your empty tent up and down. You’re not sure if it’s pity or something else, but it seems that Thianne decides she wouldn’t mind parting with a bit of coin. It’s clear she doesn’t really care much about any sort of divinations, but, well, neither do you.
She sits down across from you, placing a single gold coin between you and holding out her hand. “Go for it, then.”
You gently take her hand in yours, prick her index finger with the needle just enough to draw a few drops of blood and let them fall on the white piece of cloth. You put everything into your pocket and close your eyes tightly, pretending to concentrate.
“You’ll go to the balcony. They're out of tea, but you still stay, watching the stage,” you begin. “Most of the performances don’t interest you. There’s one performance by a knight you know, Chev Hollowpeann. I see you leaving for dinner. The prince approaches you - he wants to convince you to go to the dance, whether with him or someone else. You don’t really care about dancing with anyone. The only ones you’d agree to go with are the prince and the Champion, but neither of them ask you. You’re secretly glad. You’d love to go to bed early for the first time in weeks, but you can’t. Something bad happens tonight, something that requires your attention. Something concerning the magical barrier devices. Of course, something always goes wrong. You pull another all nighter. Tomorrow, you’re in a bad mood. The prince drags you around, worried about what happened. That’s as far as I can see.”
Even though you just made up a bunch of stuff, it’s vague and realistic enough that no one would bother to call you out on it - just another mediocre fortune teller among dozen others present at this festival.
Thianne certainly seems to think so if the resignation with which she stares at you is anything to go on.
“Makes sense,” is all she really says. “Though there’s one thing you said that I wonder about.”
She shoots you a look and doesn’t elaborate, and for a second you can’t help but think that she’s seeing right through you. But the moment passes and by the time you get your bearings, Thianne is already on her way again. She doesn’t bother to say farewell - of course she doesn’t.
You wait before she’s a ways away before you let yourself feel any sort of triumph.
You've done it - you've managed to get a drop of Thianne's blood. As soon as the coast is clear, you pack up your tent, put it back where you found it and hurry to your room. You're barely through your door before you change back.
Immediately, you make sure to hide the bloodied cloth in a secure location amongst your clothes, where even if someone saw it no one would think twice about it.
The ritual will have to wait for tonight, if you truly decide to go through with it, but at least you have the option to now. It's a rush to realise the sort of power you have all of a sudden. You could make Thianne forget whatever you wanted, and that thought scares you. Fae magic truly is fearsome, you can't deny it.
You change back into your usual outfit, hands still shaking from the rush of it all. A few deep breaths later and you're able to leave your room as if nothing happened - as if you didn't just use your ability to deceive someone into giving you their blood so that you can use it against her later. Thianne, possibly the most intelligent woman you know, and yet you hold her memories in your hands.
A servant greets you as you exit your room and your expression betrays nothing.
<<if $route == 2>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8B27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8C27]]
<<endif>><<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 10>>\
<<set $Thianneflag to $Thianneflag + 1>>\
It's best to state your intentions clearly. You wouldn't want to scare Thianne away by making her think you're trying to come onto her, when all you want is to get to know her a bit better as friends more than anything.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. You bet Thianne is just going to wear the same red cloak as well, so being overdressed might just put her off.
As soon as you are ready, you set out to find Thianne. There's still some time before the dance officially starts, but you don't even know where she is, so you better hurry. You seem to be having some good luck today, because Thianne is in the first place you think to look - the library in the floor above your room. Even during the festival she finds time to come back here, whether for work or for her own enjoyment.
She's slumped across the table, in fact not dressed in her usual red cloak. She's wearing black pants with enchanted red embroidery that ripples in waves across the fabric as though it were alive and a white ruffled blouse. It's not quite typical attire for an occasion such as this, but it's clear that she's made an effort to dress up - or someone forced her to.
“Hello there, Thianne,” you say and sit down across from her. “Are you going to the dance later or are you planning to hide away here?”
She barely raises her head, amber eyes staring up at you despondently. “Az’Lean’s forcin’ me to go. He threatened he’d get me banned from the magic lab for a week if I bail. I told him that’s an abuse of his power as prince, but he just laughed at me. He just doesn’t want to be the only one sufferin’ tonight.”
“Then are you going to dance with him?”
Her eyes narrow. “Maybe. The fact that you’re here tells me that you might want to dance with me instead. Am I right?”
You smile wryly. You didn’t expect this to turn into an interrogation. “Yes, that’s why I am here. I want to ask you if you’d like to dance with me tonight - purely as friends, mind you.”
Thianne sits up at that, folding her hands in front of her table as she regards you carefully. “A platonic dance with the Champion…” she muses. Her face contorts; you can practically see the gears turning.
“Why?” she asks. “Surely you’d rather dance with someone else. I thought you and Vynn were close.”
“True enough, but I’ve danced with them a number of times in the past already. This year, I’d like to dance with someone new. Someone I’ve only just met, but enjoy spending time with and would like to grow closer to. Are you interested?”
Thianne tilts her head. “For the record, I don’t believe in any of that destiny-intertwining stuff. That’s why for me, this is just a dance. A sentimental, symbolic gesture at best. That bein’ said… If I have to dance with someone, I’m more than fine with it bein’ you. You’re pleasant enough company and I know you’ll respect my boundaries. My answer is ‘yes’, $playername, I will grace you with my presence and uncoordinated feet this fine evenin'.”
A smile makes its way onto your face, coupled with a sense of relief. You know she’s joking, but you do feel a bit honoured to hear that. She could’ve just as easily turned you down, in truth you almost expected it, so this is a pleasant surprise. You won’t be alone tonight.
“Great! Glad to hear it. I know we still have some time, so would you rather wait a bit longer before heading down?” You take in the quiet and the darkness of the library - it is quite soothing and a welcome reprieve from the heat and noise outside.
“There’s no point in gettin’ there early, is there?” Thianne says and promptly lays her head down on the table once more. “Join me in my feeble attempt at recuperation, $playername.”
You snort a laugh but comply, crossing your arms on the table and laying down on top of them. Immediately a wave of exhaustion washes over you, weighing you down, tempting you into closing your eyes and letting go. You let out a sigh as you try not to get too comfortable. Now isn’t the time for a full on nap.
As you turn your head a bit, trying to adjust your position, your gaze meets Thianne’s. She’s looking at you as though she’s seeing you for the first time.
“I’ve never seen you slouch before,” she explains. “You look out of place. Usually you’re standin’ behind Az’Lean, all proper and just business. Now you’re just layin’ there like some sort of tired lump.”
“You really know how to be charming, don’t you, Thianne?” you say with a fondness you didn’t realise you possessed. Her blunt observation makes you happier than any compliment you’ve received recently.
She smirks. “It’s one of my many fine qualities. This obvious attempt at furthering our friendship on your part is clearly a well thought out decision. Who wouldn’t want to be best friends with me?”
The sarcasm is so palpable that it hides any kind of bitterness or loneliness that you might have otherwise heard in her voice. You still know it’s there, and for a second you see Thianne in a more fragile light. She accepted your offer because she trusts you. She’s slowly letting you in.
You have no doubt that you could shatter her if you aren’t careful.
“Evidently you have both the prince and the Champion wrapped around your finger,” you say, holding her gaze.
Her smirk widens but she remains silent, content with just closing her eyes and enjoying the quiet. You follow suit, allowing the moment to pass.
When you get ready to leave some time later, Thianne is back to being disgruntled. It seems that the thought of being part of a crowd alone is enough to sour her on the entire idea of dancing.
“We’ll pick a spot on the edge,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, so the first thing you and Thianne do is get yourselves something to drink as you skirt along the edge, trying to find some empty space.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as… Vynn and Az’Lean.
“Those two are planning to dance together?” you say, eyeing them from across the way. It’s weird to look at them in any other context than a prince and one of his many knights, but you guess Az’Lean and Vynn have spent some time together these past few weeks, courtesy of you, of course.
“Does it bother you?” Thianne asks curiously.
“No. If I had wanted to dance with either of them, I wouldn’t have asked you,” you’re quick to reassure. “It’s just… surprising.”
“Clearly they feel snubbed by us, and so now they’re working together, tryin’ to make us feel jealous,” Thianne says. “It’s a competition, $playername. We have to win.”
You’re not sure if she’s just trying to be enthusiastic about the dance or not, but you welcome the energy anyways. “Sure thing. We’ll show them that neither of us is awkward and that we can thrive in situations like these just as well as them.”
“That’s the spirit. By the way, I don't know what I'm doing, so you get to lead.”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Thianne makes a noise of discomfort.
“Are you ready?” you ask, tentatively reaching out towards her.
She nods, clumsily taking your hand in hers. It’s freezing cold despite the weather. A sign of nerves? You rest your other hand gently on her waist as she places hers on your shoulder. Amber eyes stare at you in determination.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Thianne almost jolts in surprise when you begin pulling her along; her grip on your hand tightens like an icy claw. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Thianne follows the steps a little clumsily, an expression of deep focus on her face as she stares at the ground.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
She grits her teeth and nods, clearly not heeding your advice. She ends up stepping on your toes once or twice, but you don’t mind. You barely even feel it. It’s only when a giggling couple bumps into you that Thianne looks up, seeing your relaxed expression before deflating a bit herself.
When the next song starts, neither of you care about following the proper steps. You just hold hands, lazily spinning around each other. Thianne does no such thing as giggle happily, but her hands do warm up.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Thianne seems to be in much the same condition as she wipes a few drops of sweat from her brow.
“I’m not used to this level of physical exercise. Dancin’ is damn exhaustin’,” she complains, at last allowing herself to smile.
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“Sure thing, $playername,” Thianne says. “Though you might have to carry me home by the end of this. I’m startin’ to get wobbly knees.”
You laugh at the way Thianne pretends to cling to you.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Come now, the night’s still young. You’ll get a chance to rest.”|Chapter8ADanceT]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Come now, the night’s still young. You’ll get a chance to rest.”|Chapter8BDanceT]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Come now, the night’s still young. You’ll get a chance to rest.”|Chapter8CDanceT]]
<<endif>><<set $Thianne to $Thianne + 10>>\
<<set $Thianneflag to $Thianneflag + 1>>\
There's no need to define your desire to grow closer to her just yet. If you simply ask her to dance, anything else would just complicate matters. You doubt she'll read much into your invitation if she even accepts it in the first place.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. You bet Thianne is just going to wear the same red cloak as well, so being overdressed might just put her off.
<<if $dagger == "yes">>As you get ready, your eyes land on the enchanted dagger you bought. Honestly, you weren't thinking of Thianne when you bought it, but now that you consider it, this might just be the perfect gift for her. She'll be interested in the magical properties of it and anyone can find some use for a dagger. You decide to take it with you.<<endif>>\
As soon as you are ready, you set out to find Thianne. There's still some time before the dance officially starts, but you don't even know where she is, so you better hurry. You seem to be having some good luck today, because Thianne is in the first place you think to look - the library in the floor above your room. Even during the festival she finds time to come back here, whether for work or for her own enjoyment.
She's slumped across the table, in fact not dressed in her usual red cloak. She's wearing black pants with enchanted red embroidery that ripples in waves across the fabric as though it were alive and a white ruffled blouse. It's not quite typical attire for an occasion such as this, but it's clear that she's made an effort to dress up - or someone forced her to. She looks dashing more than beautiful, and you think it suits her very well.
“Hello there, Thianne,” you say and sit down across from her. “Are you going to the dance later or are you planning to hide away here?”
She barely raises her head, amber eyes staring up at you despondently. “Az’Lean’s forcin’ me to go. He threatened he’d get me banned from the magic lab for a week if I bail. I told him that’s an abuse of his power as prince, but he just laughed at me. He just doesn’t want to be the only one sufferin’ tonight.”
“Then are you going to dance with him?” you ask cautiously.
Her eyes narrow. “Maybe. The fact that you’re here tells me that you might want to dance with me instead. Am I right?”
You smile wryly. You didn’t expect this to turn into an interrogation. “Yes, that’s why I am here. I want to ask you if you’d like to dance with me tonight - though unlike Az'Lean I don't expect you to if you don't want to.”
Thianne sits up at that, folding her hands in front of her on the table as she regards you carefully. “A dance with the Champion…” she muses. Her face contorts; you can practically see the gears turning.
“Why?” she asks. “Surely you’d rather dance with someone else. I'm not a lot of fun to dance with, frankly, and you of all people could get anyone to say yes.”
That's quite the compliment, though you're not sure if you agree. “I'm not asking you because I expect you to be a great dancer, Thianne. I simply enjoy spending time with you and would like us to grow closer. You're a very fascinating person - don't sell yourself short. So, are you interested?”
Thianne tilts her head. “For the record, I don’t believe in any of that destiny-intertwining stuff. That’s why for me, this is just a dance. A sentimental, symbolic gesture at best. That bein’ said… If I have to dance with someone, I’m more than fine with it bein’ you. You’re pleasant enough company and I know you’ll respect my boundaries. My answer is ‘yes’, $playername, I will grace you with my presence and uncoordinated feet this fine evenin'.”
A smile makes its way onto your face, coupled with a sense of relief. You know she’s joking, but you do feel a bit honoured to hear that. She could’ve just as easily turned you down, in truth you almost expected it, so this is a pleasant surprise. You won’t be alone tonight.
“Great! Glad to hear it. I know we still have some time, so would you rather wait a bit longer before heading down?” You take in the quiet and the darkness of the library - it is quite soothing and a welcome reprieve from the heat and noise outside.
“There’s no point in gettin’ there early, is there?” Thianne says and promptly lays her head down on the table once more. “Join me in my feeble attempt at recuperation, $playername.”
You snort a laugh but comply, crossing your arms on the table and laying down on top of them. Immediately a wave of exhaustion washes over you, weighing you down, tempting you into closing your eyes and letting go. You let out a sigh as you try not to get too comfortable. Now isn’t the time for a full on nap.
As you turn your head a bit, trying to adjust your position, your gaze meets Thianne’s. She’s looking at you as though she’s seeing you for the first time, and it's making your heart beat faster.
“I’ve never seen you slouch before,” she explains. “You look out of place. Usually you’re standin’ behind Az’Lean, all proper and just business. Now you’re just layin’ there like some sort of tired lump.”
“You really know how to be charming, don’t you, Thianne?” you say with a fondness you didn’t realise you possessed. Her blunt observation makes you happier than any compliment you’ve received recently.
She smirks. “It’s one of my many fine qualities. This obvious attempt at seducin' me is clearly a well thought out decision. Who wouldn’t want to get into my good graces?”
The sarcasm is so palpable that it hides any kind of bitterness or loneliness that you might have otherwise heard in her voice. You still know it’s there, and for a second you see Thianne in a more fragile light. She accepted your offer because she trusts you. She’s slowly letting you in.
You have no doubt that you could shatter her if you aren’t careful.
“Evidently you have both the prince and the Champion wrapped around your finger,” you say, holding her gaze.
Her smirk widens but she remains silent, content with just closing her eyes and enjoying the quiet. You follow suit, allowing the moment to pass.
<<if $dagger == "yes">>But then you remember the dagger. Best to give it to her now while you're alone.
“Oh yeah, I have a present for you, Thianne. As thanks for agreeing to dance with me - here.” You grab the dagger by the blade and hold it out to her handle first.
She takes it with wide eyes, whistling appreciatively when she realises that it's weightless.
“An enchanted dagger? That’s pretty neat. I shall accept this offerin’.” She tucks it away with a satisfied smile. “Thank you, $playername. You have good taste.”
Apparently Thianne is the type to easily accept material gifts - good to know.
<<endif>>\
When you get ready to leave some time later, Thianne is back to being disgruntled. It seems that the thought of being part of a crowd alone is enough to sour her on the entire idea of dancing.
“We’ll pick a spot on the edge,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, so the first thing you and Thianne do is get yourselves something to drink as you skirt along the edge, trying to find some empty space.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as… Vynn and Az’Lean.
“Those two are planning to dance together?” you say, eyeing them from across the way. It’s weird to look at them in any other context than a prince and one of his many knights, but you guess Az’Lean and Vynn have spent some time together these past few weeks, courtesy of you, of course.
“Does it bother you?” Thianne asks curiously.
“No. If I had wanted to dance with either of them, I wouldn’t have asked you,” you’re quick to reassure. “It’s just… surprising.”
“Clearly they feel snubbed by us, and so now they’re working together, tryin’ to make us feel jealous,” Thianne says. “It’s a competition, $playername. We have to win.”
You’re not sure if she’s just trying to be enthusiastic about the dance or not, but you welcome the energy anyways. “Sure thing. We’ll show them that neither of us is awkward and that we can thrive in situations like these just as well as them.”
“That’s the spirit. By the way, I don't know what I'm doing, so you get to lead.”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Thianne makes a noise of discomfort.
“Are you ready?” you ask, tentatively reaching out towards her. You're feeling a bit hot all of a sudden.
She nods, clumsily taking your hand in hers. It’s freezing cold despite the weather. A sign of nerves? You rest your other hand gently on her waist as she places hers on your shoulder. Amber eyes stare at you in something like wonder.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Thianne almost jolts in surprise when you begin pulling her along; her grip on your hand tightens like an icy claw. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Thianne follows the steps a little clumsily, an expression of deep focus on her face as she stares at the ground.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
She grits her teeth and nods, clearly not heeding your advice. She ends up stepping on your toes once or twice, but you don’t mind. You barely even feel it. It’s only when a giggling couple bumps into you that Thianne looks up, seeing your undoubtedly fond expression before relaxing a bit herself.
When the next song starts, neither of you care about following the proper steps. You just hold hands, lazily spinning around each other. Thianne does no such thing as giggle happily, but her hands do warm up, and there's a sparkle in her eyes you haven't seen before. Your breath hitches, but you play it off as a cough.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Thianne seems to be in much the same condition as she wipes a few drops of sweat from her brow, hand shaking ever so slightly.
“I’m not used to this level of physical exercise. Dancin’ is damn exhaustin’,” she complains, at last allowing herself to smile. "Can't say it isn't fun, though."
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“Sure thing, $playername,” Thianne says. “Though you might have to carry me home by the end of this. I’m startin’ to get weak knees.”
You laugh at the way Thianne pretends to cling to you. With the way she blinks up at you, you could almost mistake this for flirting.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Come now, the night’s still young. You’ll get a chance to rest.”|Chapter8ADanceT]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Come now, the night’s still young. You’ll get a chance to rest.”|Chapter8BDanceT]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Come now, the night’s still young. You’ll get a chance to rest.”|Chapter8CDanceT]]
<<endif>>You dance through the third song, though it seems that Thianne wasn’t lying about getting a bit unsteady on her feet. By the end of it, the two of you barely manage to get out of the crowd and find a bench in time for her to collapse.
“You alright?” you ask.
She’s panting heavily, but gives you a thumb up. The two of you take some time to simply relax before Thianne lets out a long sigh.
“I know you said the night’s still young, but I think I should head home,” she says, sounding hesitant.
“Tapped out?”
She nods slowly, carefully judging your reaction. Does she think you’ll be upset about that?
“I don’t have the energy for this type of thing,” she explains. “Bein’ around so many people is… drainin’.”
“Don’t worry, I understand,” you say, helping her get to her feet. “Want me to walk you home?”
“Nah, I got it. Um… It was fun, $playername. I don’t regret accepting your invitation,” she says, fidgeting with the collar of her blouse. “You had fun too?”
“Of course I did! I enjoyed dancing with you a lot. In general I just enjoy spending time with you, Thianne.”
She smiles happily. “Good. As you should. Well then, I’ll be on my way. Don’t stay up too late, either.”
You squeeze Thianne’s hand before sending her on her way. Even though she said she’d be fine, you watch until she’s left the marketplace before you take your eyes off of her.
[[The feeling of her slowly warming hand in yours sticks with you.|Chapter8BDance]]You dance through the third song, though it seems that Thianne wasn’t lying about getting a bit unsteady on her feet. By the end of it, the two of you barely manage to get out of the crowd and find a bench in time for her to collapse.
“You alright?” you ask.
She’s panting heavily, but gives you a thumb up. The two of you take some time to simply relax before Thianne lets out a long sigh.
“I know you said the night’s still young, but I think I should head home,” she says, sounding hesitant.
“Tapped out?”
She nods slowly, carefully judging your reaction. Does she think you’ll be upset about that?
“I don’t have the energy for this type of thing,” she explains. “Bein’ around so many people is… drainin’.”
“Don’t worry, I understand,” you say, helping her get to her feet. “Want me to walk you home?”
“Nah, I got it. Um… It was fun, $playername. I don’t regret accepting your invitation,” she says, fidgeting with the collar of her blouse. “You had fun too?”
“Of course I did! I enjoyed dancing with you a lot. In general I just enjoy spending time with you, Thianne.”
She smiles happily. “Good. As you should. Well then, I’ll be on my way. Don’t stay up too late, either.”
You squeeze Thianne’s hand before sending her on her way. Even though she said she’d be fine, you watch until she’s left the marketplace before you take your eyes off of her.
[[The feeling of her slowly warming hand in yours sticks with you.|Chapter8CDance]]“Really?” she says, killing the momentum of the conversation before switching to another topic. You get the feeling she doesn’t really want to talk about this anymore and only asked you for your opinion to be polite.
The two of you keep talking over tea for a little while, taking joy in each other's company and the relaxed atmosphere. You tell Thianne all about the shrines you visited yesterday, and she tells you a riveting tale about using her magic to cheat at some of the games.
“I have a bunch of prize tokens but there’s nothing I really want to get, so I’m thinking about just handin’ them to the next kid I see,” she says.
“Now that’s awfully generous of you.”
“You’re right - I should sell them at an insultingly inflated price instead.”
You find once again that Thianne is much less harsh than she pretends to be - she's just blunt and her humour is incredibly dry. Now that you've known her for a few weeks, it's so easy to talk to her that you completely lose track of time. Of course, you haven't forgotten your other plans for today. First, you promised Vynn that you would come listen to their performance. After that, you should take some time to figure out who you want to ask to join you at the Midnight Dance tonight.
“By the way, are you going to see Vynn’s performance too?” you ask. “We could go together if you’d like.”
Thianne seems to consider it for a moment before shaking her head. “Nothing against their musical talent, but I think I’d rather stay here for a while longer.” She pulls out a book, laying it on the table next to her cup. “Don’t let me keep you, $playername.”
“Well then, it’s been fun. Have a good day, Thianne. Maybe we’ll see each other later.”
She opens the book with the tiniest of smiles. “Knowing you? Most definitely.”
You’re a bit puzzled by her words but take them as an affirmation of sorts. As quickly as you can, you down the last of your tea before waving Thianne goodbye.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8A27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8B27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8C27]]
<<endif>>You spend some time competing with Lester in a variety of games. As you suspected, he has no qualms at all and attempts to cheat at all of them. You keep up with him solely based on your skills - throwing things, shooting things, memorising patterns, manoeuvring marbles through tricky mazes, hitting things real hard, even just guessing correctly - you're better than most people at all of those, partly due to your training, your natural aptitude and a gracious helping of simple luck.
Naturally, it infuriates Lester that even though he's cheating, he doesn't have a real advantage over you. You allow yourself to be smug about it.
With your combined powers, you end up winning quite a lot of prize tokens. It falls to you to lug them around, but you don't mind. You actually are having a lot of fun, even when Lester gets caught cheating and both of you end up getting cussed out for it.
At some point the thought does cross your mind that with his cheating, Lester really <i>is</i> creating a bad reputation for himself, playing into the stereotype that half-fae are dishonest and mischievous. You decidedly keep that to yourself, though you can't stop pondering it. Does Lester act like this because that's who he is, or is it behaviour adopted from the preconceived notions of others? You don't know him well enough to say for sure.
After a while, you end up using your prize tokens to buy some of the sweetest, stickiest treats you can get your hands on. The two of you split them between you and allow yourself to indulge. Lester seems particularly fond of everything that involves toffee or butterscotch.
“Now this is the life, $playername. Imagine eating this kind of stuff every day. I bet even Princeling can’t get access to this many sweets all the time.”
“If you ate this much every day, I’m sure you’d outpace the production in a matter of weeks. You’d also probably ruin your stomach, but I don’t know.”
“Nah, I can eat whatever and be fine. I don’t even get nauseous from drinking. I would call it an iron stomach, but that sounds somewhat anti-fae.” He laughs at his own joke without any reservation and you can’t help but be amused in turn.
This isn’t the first time you’ve thought this, but there’s truly something freeing about spending time with Lester. You think it’s because he doesn’t care for ‘the Champion’, and so with him, you can just be $playername… though he does tend to call you Champ.
You spend quite a while together, subtly trying to make each other laugh, trying to figure out which buttons are fine to push and what’s a bit too far. You feel like slowly but surely, you’re starting to get to know him better.
Eventually, Lester informs you that he has to get back to work in the castle, though he does take care to mention that he will be back in time for the Midnight Dance. Is he hoping you’ll invite him? You still have some time to decide, in any case.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8A27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8B27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[For now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8C27]]
<<endif>>Miche doesn’t seem entirely convinced; you’re not surprised that she has good intuition. “I see,” she says. “No matter the case, thank you for your insight, $playername, though I guess it’s best I bring this up with Vynn directly.”
You suppress a wince. Vynn won’t be too happy about that, you’d wager. “Of course, direct communication beats anything else.”
Miche nods happily. “So, are you doing anything in particular right now?”
“Actually, I was looking for Vynn. I wanted to catch them before their performance starts, but they’re not here yet.”
“I also came here for their performance, though it does appear that we are exceptionally early. Would you be opposed to taking a stroll together? I am not too familiar with the layout of the city myself, so I’d appreciate the company.”
There’s not really any reason to refuse, seeing as Vynn isn’t here yet, and Miche at the very least is pleasant to be around. “Sounds good to me. What do you want to do first?”
The two of you end up sampling a variety of food. Miche seems to be especially fond of a type of spicy dumpling filled with rabbit meat that you’ve never seen before. You’re feeling a bit courageous today so you’re trying fermented mushrooms dipped in root-powder - suffice to say it tastes incredibly bitter and absolutely vile, but the experience alone was worth the gold coins.
After that, you walk a bit further into the city, checking out some of the jewellery vendors. Miche keeps eyeing everything critically, seemingly not satisfied with most of the pieces on offer. You yourself can’t distinguish much beyond things that sparkle very prettily and those that don’t, but apparently there’s a lot of science that goes into the value of gems and the craftsmanship. In the end, neither of you buy anything, and Miche reveals a few scammers that were trying to sell you fool’s gold.
Walking around with Miche turns out to be more fun than you anticipated, and time flies. It’s still a bit early for Vynn’s performance, but you want to be able to stand right in front of the stage, and Miche has to go and reconvene with Rohan, so you decide to head back to the marketplace and then split up.
“This has been very enjoyable,” Miche says, looking at you with a new-found fondness.
“I concur. I hope you have just as much fun from here on out,” you say, returning her smile. “And don’t worry too much about Vynn. So long as I’m around, I’ll make sure to look after them.”
She shakes her head. “I’m afraid as an older sister, I can’t ever stop worrying about my younger sibling. But I appreciate that a lot, $playername. I’m glad to know they’re not alone - that neither of you is. Come see us off when this festival ends, won’t you?”
You send Miche off with a wave. “If the prince doesn’t have any other plans I have to adhere to, then sure!”
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You watch as she disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8A27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You watch as she disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8B27]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You watch as she disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8C27]]
<<endif>>“Of course! I’m not so close-minded that I would refuse to try out a different way to celebrate. All things considered, I do quite enjoy human food and liquor from time to time as well. Same with books.” Maeve smiles with a fondness you rarely get to see. “Go on, tell me what else is different at your festival.”
You've mentioned some of these things to Maeve before, but this time you try to really paint a picture for her. The marketplace and her grove couldn't be further apart even though they exist in the same realm, and it's surreal to think that Maeve is here with you, just a short walk away from all kinds of sights she'll never get to see.
You describe the many stalls around the marketplace, the food and drink, the wares on sale, and the many visitors crowding the streets. You tell her of the music and theatre performances, of the jesters and dancers, and about the cheers and applause they receive. You talk about the many games you can play, and the prizes that can be won, about the many fortune tellers and mages that put their abilities on display.
The shrines to the Old Gods are also something you go over in detail, and you can tell that your descriptions seem to instantly capture Maeve’s interest. You spend some time comparing how they are depicted by humans as opposed to what Maeve knows about them, and really it’s a topic you could spend hours on.
You don't even realise as hours do pass you by, lost in conversation as you are. Maeve has moved a bit closer to you, half-leaning against the headboard next to you, but despite the growing heat you can't say it's entirely uncomfortable. Unexpected, maybe, but not unwelcome.
At some point during your conversation, you notice your eyes slowly closing. It's not your intention to sleep, but you can feel yourself slowly dozing off. Maeve shifts next to you, making herself comfortable as well. She continues talking, even as you drift too far away to make out her words anymore.
When you wake up, she is gone, but her warmth still lingers. Maybe her leaving is what woke you up. You dazedly sit up, trying to gauge how far the sun has risen in the sky - it looks like she has passed her peak a bit ago. You feel endlessly refreshed as you get up, both your body and your mind thanking you for the rest.
[[It seems that now, however, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8B27]]
“Of course! I’m not so close-minded that I would refuse to try out a different way to celebrate. All things considered, I do quite enjoy human food and liquor from time to time as well. Same with books.” Maeve smiles with a fondness you rarely get to see. “Go on, tell me what else is different at your festival.”
You decide to return the favour and tell Maeve all about how the solstice is celebrated in the kingdom. You describe the many stalls around the marketplace, the food and drink, the wares on sale, and the many visitors crowding the streets. You tell her of the music and theatre performances, of the jesters and dancers, and about the cheers and applause they receive. You talk about the many games you can play, and the prizes that can be won, about the many fortune tellers and mages that put their abilities on display.
The shrines to the Old Gods are also something you go over in detail, and you can tell that your descriptions seem to instantly capture Maeve’s interest. You spend some time comparing how they are depicted by humans as opposed to what Maeve knows about them, and really it’s a topic you could spend hours on.
You don't even realise as hours pass you by, lost in conversation as you are. Maeve has moved a bit closer to you, your arms pressed together side by side, but despite the growing heat you can't say it's entirely uncomfortable.
It takes a while, but eventually you do see one of the doors leading inside the castle open. Of course, your time with Maeve was always going to be limited, but you can't help the wave of disappointment you feel when she disappears from next to you with not much more than a tiny wave. No proper chance to say goodbye, and only her warmth lingers.
You stay seated beneath the willow for a little while, allowing yourself some space to breath. Soon enough, you'll have to decide who to invite to the dance tonight.
[[But for now, you have a performance to catch.|Chapter8C27]]
<<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 10>>\
<<set $Vynnflag to $Vynnflag + 1>>\
It's best for things to stay as they are, and to that end, it would be benifical to be as clear about your invitation as possible. You doubt that Vynn would misunderstand you, given that this has been your status-quo for years, but you're not about to make any assumptions.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly, choosing to wear a sleek, black tunic with golden accents and matching boots. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. Vynn might still be dressed to the nines, just because they can, but you want to make sure to stay in something comfortable and practical - just in case. It is your day off, yes, but any potential threat isn't going to respect that.
As soon as you are ready, you head over to Vynn's room, hoping to find them there. You knock a few times in rapid succession.
“Vynn, it's me,” you call out. “Are you there? Can I come in?”
You can hear the sound of something being knocked over, accompanied by a yelp. There are a few seconds of silence before you can hear the door being unlocked.
“Come in,” Vynn says without bothering to open the door. You realise why as soon as you step inside - Vynn seems to be in the process of getting dressed. They’re wearing short, bright purple pants and a white undershirt as they consider their options. Overcoats, dublets, blouses, and even a few dresses are scattered across their bed.
“Who are you going to the dance with?” they ask immediately, an uncertain edge to their voice. They’re holding up a white, ruffled blouse before shaking their head and tossing it aside.
“As of yet? No one, though I am here to offer you an invitation,” you say as you narrowly dodge the garment flying through the air. “Are you up for a dance to solidify our official status as ‘best-friends-forever’?”
“Oh, thank the Gods, yes,” Vynn says, turning to look at you, studying your outfit. “At least it’s easy to coordinate with you, clothing wise. A few visiting nobles asked me as well, but I hadn’t answered them yet, and so I didn’t know what to wear. This makes it easy.”
They pick up a black blouse, high-necked but without sleeves, and set it off to the side. Vynn also grabs a leather corset-belt with golden buckles and a pair of matching shoes. “That should look good, I think?”
“You’re the expert,” you say as Vynn begins to put the pieces on.
They tuck the blouse into their pants, use the corset-belt to accentuate their waist, and lazily slip into their shoes. A few pieces of rings and bracelets later, and Vynn looks about ready to go - is what you think, but they haven’t even done their hair yet.
“So,” Vynn says as they part their wild mane of curls down the middle. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy having you as my dance partner, but I’m a bit surprised. You are aware that you have other options, no?”
You watch as they braid one half of their hair tightly, winding it behind their head, while leaving the other half open. It creates an asymmetrical look that casts one half of their face in shadow, while showing off the other half. It’s a good look.
“Sure, there are others I could’ve asked, but I just like you best. There’s really no complicated rationale behind it,” you say with a shrug.
Nevertheless, Vynn seems touched by your admission. “Well, the same goes for me, $playername. Now, all I need to do is add some perfume… If I can find it in this mess…”
When you get ready to leave some time later, Vynn is unable to contain their excitement, happily pulling you along. You’d think the Midnight Dance would have lost its lustre to them by now, but they’re still looking forward to it as much as ever.
“I’ll let you pick a spot,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, but Vynn doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit deterred. They pull you right into the crowd, fighting through it like waves in a storm, until you end up right in front of the stage.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as… Thianne and Az’Lean.
“So those two are dancing together after all,” you say, eyeing them from across the way. You know that Az’Lean, by virtue of being a prince alone, is a skilled dancer, but you can’t imagine Thianne moving gracefully at all. You wonder whether you’ll get to hear Az’Lean complain about her stepping on his toes all day tomorrow.
“The nobility is not going to like that,” Vynn comments idly.
“I suppose not. I’m sure there have been dozens of people who were hoping to dance with Az’Lean, meanwhile Thianne looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.”
“I know those two are friends, but I can’t help but wonder whether anything is going on between them. Obviously Thianne’s a commoner, so probably not, but Az’Lean’s the type to not care about that,” Vynn says. “Not that it’s any of our business, of course!”
You can’t help but laugh. “Of course! Though I bet they’re also gossiping about us in the same way, so I’m sure it’s fine.”
“The only thing anyone is going to say about us tonight is that we made every other dancer here look like amateurs.” Vynn grins broadly. “By the way, are you fine with switching who leads?”
“That suits me just fine. Shall I lead first, then?”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Vynn joins right in.
“Are you ready?” you ask, holding your hand out to Vynn with a flourish.
“Always,” they say, confidently taking your hand in theirs. It’s calloused and incredibly warm, surely partially due to the heat. You rest your other hand firmly on their waist as they place theirs on your shoulder. Chocolate eyes glint at you with excitement.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Vynn seems to forget for a second that you’re the one leading, but after a few missteps, they allow themselves to be pulled along by you. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Vynn follows the steps perfectly, an expression of pure bliss on their face as they allow themself to be one with the music.
“Enjoying yourself?” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
A grin splits Vynn’s face as they nod, no words needed to express how much they’re thriving on this. Even though you are leading, they don’t pass up on the opportunity to add their own little touches, forgoing a few of the proper steps for sudden, improvised moves instead. You do your best to keep up with their flow.
When the next song starts, you quickly switch positions. Vynn very unceremoniously wipes their sweaty hand off on their pants before grabbing your waist. You roll your eyes when they comically wriggle their eye-brows at you.
You let yourself be led by Vynn, finding it even easy to follow along with their departures from the standard now that they’re the one deciding on the direction. Vynn seems to be a big fan of spinning you around mercilessly, but you don’t mind. If anything, you like the rush it gives you.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Vynn seems to be in much the same condition as they wipe a few drops of sweat from their brow.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have been going all out right from the beginning,” they say, still beaming like a child on their birthday.
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“Sounds good, $playername,” Vynn says. “Though dancing won’t get any easier when we’re drunk, you know that, right?”
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8ADanceV6]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8BDanceV]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8CDanceV]]
<<endif>><<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 10>>\
<<set $Vynnflag to $Vynnflag + 1>>\
There's no need to put any sort of label on your relationship with Vynn, and so you decide to simply invite them to the dance and see how the night progresses. As long as you get to spend time with them, you know you'll be happy with the outcome.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly, choosing to wear a sleek, black tunic with golden accents and matching boots. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. Vynn might still be dressed to the nines, just because they can, but you want to make sure to stay in something comfortable and practical - just in case. It is your day off, yes, but any potential threat isn't going to respect that.
<<if $koto == "yes">>Your eyes land on the instrument you bought, the koto, and you decide to take it with you. It's the perfect gift for Vynn, and now is the perfect time to give it to them.<<endif>>\
As soon as you are ready, you head over to Vynn's room, hoping to find them there. You knock a few times in rapid succession.
“Vynn, it's me,” you call out. “Are you there? Can I come in?”
You can hear the sound of something being knocked over, accompanied by a yelp. There are a few seconds of silence before you can hear the door being unlocked.
“Come in,” Vynn says without bothering to open the door. You realise why as soon as you step inside - Vynn seems to be in the process of getting dressed. They’re wearing short, bright purple pants and a white undershirt as they consider their options. Overcoats, dublets, blouses, and even a few dresses are scattered across their bed.
“Who are you going to the dance with?” they ask immediately, an uncertain edge to their voice. They’re holding up a white, ruffled blouse before shaking their head and tossing it aside.
“As of yet? No one, though I am here to offer you an invitation,” you say as you narrowly dodge the garment flying through the air. “So, let me do this properly: Vynn, would you like to go to the Midnight Dance with me?”
<<if $koto == "yes">>
“Oh, thank the Gods, yes,” Vynn says, turning to look at you, studying your outfit. Their eyes land on the instrument in your hands. “What’s that?”
“It’s a koto, I bought it at a stall a few days ago. There’s no way I’m getting any use out of it, so I thought it would make a good present. Here, for you.”
You hand the koto over to Vynn, who briefly stops their clothing search to run a hand along the strings. “This is amazing, $playername, thank you so much! I’m sure I can figure out how to play it. You’re the best, I swear.”
They place the instrument safely on their desk before going back to trying to pick an outfit.
“At least it’s easy to coordinate with you, clothing wise. A few visiting nobles asked me as well, but I hadn’t answered them yet, and so I didn’t know what to wear. This makes it easy.”
<<else>>
“Oh, thank the Gods, yes,” Vynn says, turning to look at you, studying your outfit. “At least it’s easy to coordinate with you, clothing wise. A few visiting nobles asked me as well, but I hadn’t answered them yet, and so I didn’t know what to wear. This makes it easy.”
<<endif>>\
They pick up a black blouse, high-necked but without sleeves, and set it off to the side. Vynn also grabs a leather corset-belt with golden buckles and a pair of matching shoes. “That should look good, I think?”
“You’re the expert,” you say as Vynn begins to put the pieces on.
They tuck the blouse into their pants, use the corset-belt to accentuate their waist, and lazily slip into their shoes. A few pieces of rings and bracelets later, and Vynn looks about ready to go - is what you think, but they haven’t even done their hair yet.
“So,” Vynn says as they part their wild mane of curls down the middle. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy having you as my dance partner, but I’m a bit surprised. You are aware that you have other options, no?”
You watch as they braid one half of their hair tightly, winding it behind their head, while leaving the other half open. It creates an asymmetrical look that casts one half of their face in shadow, while showing off the other half. It’s a good look - stunning even.
“Sure, there are others I could’ve asked, but I just like you best. Why wouldn't I ask my favourite person?” You shoot them a fond smile.
Vynn returns it, seemingly touched by your admission if not surprised. “Well, the same goes for me, $playername. I'm not just accepting because it's easy, I am genuinely really happy that you asked me. Now, all I need to do is add some perfume… If I can find it in this mess…”
When you get ready to leave some time later, Vynn is unable to contain their excitement, happily pulling you along. You’d think the Midnight Dance would have lost its lustre to them by now, but they’re still looking forward to it as much as ever.
“I’ll let you pick a spot,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, but Vynn doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit deterred. They pull you right into the crowd, fighting through it like waves in a storm, until you end up right in front of the stage.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as… Thianne and Az’Lean.
“So those two are dancing together after all,” you say, eyeing them from across the way. You know that Az’Lean, by virtue of being a prince alone, is a skilled dancer, but you can’t imagine Thianne moving gracefully at all. You wonder whether you’ll get to hear Az’Lean complain about her stepping on his toes all day tomorrow.
“The nobility is not going to like that,” Vynn comments idly.
“I suppose not. I’m sure there have been dozens of people who were hoping to dance with Az’Lean, meanwhile Thianne looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.”
“I know those two are friends, but I can’t help but wonder whether anything is going on between them. Obviously Thianne’s a commoner, so probably not, but Az’Lean’s the type to not care about that,” Vynn says. “Not that it’s any of our business, of course!”
You can’t help but laugh. “Of course! Though I bet they’re also gossiping about us in the same way, so I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Oh, but it makes sense to gossip about us being a couple. You know, a lot of people would bet money on it.” Vynn grins broadly. “By the way, are you fine with switching who leads?”
“That suits me just fine. Shall I lead first, then?”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Vynn joins right in.
“Are you ready?” you ask, holding your hand out to Vynn with a flourish and a cheeky smile.
“Always,” they say, confidently taking your hand in theirs. It’s calloused and incredibly warm, surely partially due to the heat. You rest your other hand firmly on their waist as they place theirs on your shoulder. Chocolate eyes glint at you with mirth.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Vynn seems to forget for a second that you’re the one leading, but after a few missteps, they allow themselves to be pulled along by you. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Vynn follows the steps perfectly, an expression of pure bliss on their face as they allow themself to be one with the music.
“Enjoying yourself?” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
A grin splits Vynn’s face as they nod, no words needed to express how much they’re thriving on this. Even though you are leading, they don’t pass up on the opportunity to add their own little touches, forgoing a few of the proper steps for sudden, improvised moves instead. You do your best to keep up with their flow.
When the next song starts, you quickly switch positions. Vynn very unceremoniously wipes their sweaty hand off on their pants before grabbing your waist. “Are <i>you</i> ready?”
Well now, if you didn't know any better, you could almost assume that Vynn is trying to flirt with you. Almost.
You let yourself be led by Vynn, finding it even easy to follow along with their departures from the standard now that they’re the one deciding on the direction. Vynn seems to be a big fan of spinning you around mercilessly, but you don’t mind. If anything, you like the rush it gives you.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Vynn seems to be in much the same condition as they wipe a few drops of sweat from their brow.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have been going all out right from the beginning,” they say, still beaming like a child on their birthday.
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“Sounds good, $playername,” Vynn says. “Though dancing won’t get any easier when we’re drunk, you know that, right?”
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8ADanceV6]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8BDanceV]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8CDanceV]]
<<endif>><<set $Vynn to $Vynn + 10>>\
<<set $Vynnflag to $Vynnflag + 1>>\
You've been Vynn's best friend for years now, you already love their personality, you want them to be a part of your life however possible, and you're not going to pretend that they aren't charming in all the right ways. Maybe now is the time to push things a little further - just tentatively, of course, just to feel things out.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly, choosing to wear a sleek, black tunic with golden accents and matching boots. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. Vynn might still be dressed to the nines, just because they can, but you want to make sure to stay in something comfortable and practical - just in case. It is your day off, yes, but any potential threat isn't going to respect that.
<<if $koto == "yes">>Your eyes land on the instrument you bought, the koto, and you decide to take it with you. It's the perfect gift for Vynn, and now is the perfect time to give it to them. It'll better convey that you're serious when you express your affection.<<endif>>\
As soon as you are ready, you head over to Vynn's room, hoping to find them there. You knock a few times in rapid succession.
“Vynn, it's me,” you call out. “Are you there? Can I come in?”
You can hear the sound of something being knocked over, accompanied by a yelp. There are a few seconds of silence before you can hear the door being unlocked.
“Come in,” Vynn says without bothering to open the door. You realise why as soon as you step inside - Vynn seems to be in the process of getting dressed. They’re wearing short, bright purple pants and a white undershirt as they consider their options. Overcoats, dublets, blouses, and even a few dresses are scattered across their bed.
“Who are you going to the dance with?” they ask immediately, an uncertain edge to their voice. They’re holding up a white, ruffled blouse before shaking their head and tossing it aside.
“As of yet? No one, though I am here to offer you an invitation,” you say as you narrowly dodge the garment flying through the air. You take a deep breath, though you find you're not nervous at all. Even if Vynn turns you down, you're not worried. A friendship like yours won't be rattled so easily. “I want to do this properly, so if I could get your attention for a second, that would be great."
<<if $koto == "yes">>
“Oh, sure, sure,” Vynn says, turning to look at you, studying your outfit. Their eyes land on the instrument in your hands. “What’s that?”
“It’s a koto, I bought it at a stall a few days ago. There’s no way I’m getting any use out of it, so I thought it would make a good present. Here, for you.”
You hand the koto over to Vynn, who briefly stops their clothing search to run a hand along the strings. “This is amazing, $playername, thank you so much! I’m sure I can figure out how to play it. You’re the best, I swear.”
They place the instrument safely on their desk before turning their attention back to you, something like anticipation written on their face.
<<else>>
They turn to look at you, something like anticipation written on their face.
<<endif>>\
“Would you like to go to the Midnight Dance with me, Vynn?” You place a hand over your heart. “And would you like to go as something other than just friends?”
You can see a faint blush appear on Vynn’s face as they process your words. “You want to go in the context of…” They point from you to them and back again. “A different kind of partnership? A more… romantic one?”
Your face feels awfully warm all of a sudden and you have to fight the urge to cover your mouth with your hand. “If that is something you are comfortable with, then yes, I would like to dance with you romantically.”
Oh Gods, why does that sound so stilted? You didn’t think this through at all, you have no words prepared, no grand gesture, you’re suddenly not even sure where to look with your eyes - Vynn isn’t even fully dressed!
“I’d like that, $playername,” Vynn says, voice suddenly all scratchy. They clear their throat. “I like you a lot, so I don’t mind trying to go that route. Let’s just take it one step at a time and see how tonight goes, yeah?”
“Yes! I mean, yes, let’s just focus on making this a fun end to the festival,” you say, meeting Vynn’s wobbly smile with your own. It seems neither of you was quite prepared for this, but now you’re rolling with it.
Vynn takes a deep breath and goes back to looking at their clothes, even more distracted than they had been earlier.
“At least it’s easy to coordinate with you, clothing wise. A few visiting nobles asked me as well, but I hadn’t answered them yet, and so I didn’t know what to wear. This makes it easy.”
They pick up a black blouse, high-necked but without sleeves, and set it off to the side. Vynn also grabs a leather corset-belt with golden buckles and a pair of matching shoes. “That should look good, I think?”
“You’re the expert,” you say as Vynn begins to put the pieces on.
They tuck the blouse into their pants, use the corset-belt to accentuate their waist, and lazily slip into their shoes. A few pieces of rings and bracelets later, and Vynn looks about ready to go - is what you think, but they haven’t even done their hair yet.
“So,” Vynn says as they part their wild mane of curls down the middle. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy having you as my... dance partner, but I’m a bit surprised. You are aware that you have other options, no?”
You watch as they braid one half of their hair tightly, winding it behind their head, while leaving the other half open. It creates an asymmetrical look that casts one half of their face in shadow, while showing off the other half. It’s a good look - stunning even.
“Vynn, I don't think there's anyone I enjoy spending time with more than you, and I mean that genuinely.” You shoot them a fond smile.
Vynn returns it, seemingly touched by your admission if not surprised. “Well, the same goes for me, $playername. I'm not just accepting because it's easy, I am genuinely really happy that you asked me. Now, all I need to do is add some perfume… If I can find it in this mess…”
When you get ready to leave some time later, Vynn is unable to contain their excitement, happily pulling you along. You’d think the Midnight Dance would have lost its lustre to them by now, but they’re still looking forward to it as much as ever.
“I’ll let you pick a spot,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, but Vynn doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit deterred. They pull you right into the crowd, fighting through it like waves in a storm, until you end up right in front of the stage.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as… Thianne and Az’Lean.
“So those two are dancing together after all,” you say, eyeing them from across the way. You know that Az’Lean, by virtue of being a prince alone, is a skilled dancer, but you can’t imagine Thianne moving gracefully at all. You wonder whether you’ll get to hear Az’Lean complain about her stepping on his toes all day tomorrow.
“The nobility is not going to like that,” Vynn comments idly.
“I suppose not. I’m sure there have been dozens of people who were hoping to dance with Az’Lean, meanwhile Thianne looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.”
“I know those two are friends, but I can’t help but wonder whether anything is going on between them. Obviously Thianne’s a commoner, so probably not, but Az’Lean’s the type to not care about that,” Vynn says. “Not that it’s any of our business, of course!”
You can’t help but laugh. “Of course! Though I bet they’re also gossiping about us in the same way, so I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Oh, but in that case, aren't they justified in wondering whether there's something going on between us? Maybe Az'Lean asked Thianne to dance as more than just friends the same way you asked me, though I doubt it. Only you would do that so nonchalantly.” Vynn grins broadly. “By the way, are you fine with switching who leads?”
Their smile is so bright that you have to look away, lest your heart starts racing. “That suits me just fine. Shall I lead first, then?”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Vynn joins right in.
“Are you ready?” you ask, holding your hand out to Vynn with a flourish and a cheeky smile.
“Always,” they say, confidently taking your hand in theirs. It’s calloused and incredibly warm, surely partially due to the heat. You rest your other hand firmly on their waist as they place theirs on your shoulder. Chocolate eyes glint at you with mirth.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Vynn seems to forget for a second that you’re the one leading, but after a few missteps, they allow themselves to be pulled along by you. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Vynn follows the steps perfectly, an expression of pure bliss on their face as they allow themself to be one with the music.
“Enjoying yourself?” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
A devious smirk splits Vynn’s face as they nod, no words needed to express how much they’re thriving on this. Even though you are leading, they don’t pass up on the opportunity to add their own little touches, forgoing a few of the proper steps for sudden, improvised moves instead. You do your best to keep up with their flow.
When the next song starts, you quickly switch positions. Vynn very unceremoniously wipes their sweaty hand off on their pants before grabbing your waist. “Are <i>you</i> ready?”
Oh. You think your brain might have just stopped working for a second. Well, at least your hammering heart is picking up the slack.
You let yourself be led by Vynn, finding it even easy to follow along with their departures from the standard now that they’re the one deciding on the direction. Vynn seems to be a big fan of spinning you around mercilessly, but you don’t mind. If anything, you like the rush it gives you.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Vynn seems to be in much the same condition as they wipe a few drops of sweat from their brow.
Their face is glistening - their eyes are bright, and warm, and wide, staring right at you with wonder, as if they haven't seen you a million times before. There's redness in their cheeks, from what? It suits their freckles... They are - very close. You could count them. You want to count them, but you also want to see more of their eyes, so bright, reflecting all of the lights around you, and then there's...
Their lips. They look... soft? Are they soft? Oh - that's - they just wet their mouth with their tongue. Hm.
Is Vynn coming closer? Are they - where are they looking? Ah, their eyes are so... Hm.
There's distance between you.
[[Close the distance. Kiss Vynn.|Chapter8Vynnkiss]]
[[Keep the distance and start up a conversation.|Chapter8Vynnnokiss]]You dance through the third song, and Vynn seems even more enthusiastic than before, despite the fact that you're both starting to get a bit tired. By the end of it, the two of you barely manage to get out of the crowd before Vynn dramatically collapses on a bench.
“You alright?” you ask.
They're panting a bit, but the sharpness of their grin reveals that they wouldn't have it any other way. The two of you take some time to rest your feet before Vynn springs back up again.
“I'll go get us some ale, you good with that?" they ask, already getting their second wind.
You can't help but laugh. “That's fine, but I can just come with you.”
They shake their head, grin never wavering. “No way. Let me treat you to something, for once,” they say and wave their hand around as if to swat any and all rebuttals away. “You're the one who asked me out today, so it's only fair.”
“Then I guess I should be grateful,” you say, crossing your legs in a show of getting comfortable. “Go on then, Vynn, hop to it.”
“One ale for $playername, coming right up. And don't you dare move from this spot, no matter what happens, got it?”
You get the feeling that you'll be waiting here a while, knowing about Vynn's inability to not stop and talk with every single person they know. It's fine though - you're content with simply sitting here and enjoying the night breeze for a while.
[[You watch with a fond smile as Vynn disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8BDance]]You dance through the third song, and Vynn seems even more enthusiastic than before, even despite the fact that you're both starting to get a bit tired. By the end of it, the two of you barely manage to get out of the crowd before Vynn dramatically collapses on a bench.
“You alright?” you ask.
They're panting a bit, but the sharpness of their grin reveals that they wouldn't have it any other way. The two of you take some time rest your feet before Vynn springs back up again.
“I'll go get us some ale, you good with that?" they ask, already getting their second wind.
You can't help but laugh. “That's fine, but I can just come with you.”
They shake their head, grin never wavering. “No way. Let me treat you to something, for once,” they say and wave their hand around as if to swat any and all rebuttals away. “You're the one who asked me out today, so it's only fair.”
“Then I guess I should be grateful,” you say, crossing your legs in a show of getting comfortable. “Go on then, Vynn, hop to it.”
“One ale for $playername, coming right up. And don't you dare move from this spot, no matter what happens, got it?”
You get the feeling that you'll be waiting here a while, knowing about Vynn's inability to not stop and talk with every single person they know. It's fine though - you're fine with simply sitting here and enjoying the night breeze for a while.
[[You watch with a fond smile as Vynn disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8CDanceV2]]You both move closer at the same time, lips pressing together - soft, fleeting, not much more than a peck really, but of such magnitude at the same time. You had feared for a moment that kissing Vynn would be strange, that it would conflict with the friendship you've built over the years, but it's the opposite. It feels like the most natural thing you've ever done, like an extension of your care for each other, like a tender admission of affection.
It feels right, and even as you marvel at the way their lips feel, and at the closeness and the sweetness, and the urge to hold them, you aren't at all surprised that you feel this way. In hindsight, it seems so obvious. The warmth that's spreading through you, the giddiness you feel in your stomach, how your mind wants to commit this moment to memory forever - the groundwork for this has always been there, between you and Vynn, in the quiet moments you shared when it was just the two of you.
Now it has been expressed physically, and you couldn't be happier. The dopey grin on Vynn's face shows they feel much the same.
You're left staring at each other, breathless.
Vynn is the one to break the silence first.
“I enjoyed that a lot, $playername,” they say, their soft voice almost drowned out by the laughter and cheers of the crowd around you.
Their gaze is intense, and for a moment you wonder whether they’ll kiss you again, maybe go further this time, but they don’t. Instead they take half a step backwards, as if they need just a moment to breathe. You let them, accepting that the moment has passed. They said that they enjoyed it, and you believe them, but you know it’s not an invitation for anything more.
“Me too,” you say, suddenly aware of the fact that you’ve just been standing there staring at them.
Vynn chuckles, taking a deep breath. “I have to say, it feels like my heart is trying to win a race. Maybe we shouldn’t have been going all out on our dancing right from the beginning.”
You both know that's only part of the reason for your racing hearts and sweaty palms.
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“Sounds good, $playername,” Vynn says. “Though dancing won’t get any easier when we’re drunk, you know that, right?”
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8ADanceV6]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8BDanceV]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8CDanceV]]
<<endif>>You keep the distance, take a deep breath, and let the moment pass. There's no need to rush anything - this night has been wonderful enough as it is. Vynn seems to snap out of their trance as well, offering you a smile instead.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have been going all out right from the beginning,” they say, still sounding as excited as a child on their birthday.
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“Sounds good, $playername,” Vynn says. “Though dancing won’t get any easier when we’re drunk, you know that, right?”
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8ADanceV6]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8BDanceV]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Ah, but we could use the challenge.”|Chapter8CDanceV]]
<<endif>><<set $Az to $Az + 10>>\
<<set $Azflag to $Azflag + 1>>\
Right, there’s no reason for this to be any sort of big deal. You think you’d enjoy dancing with Az’Lean, so what’s why you’re going to invite him. If he turns you down, well, it’s no skin off your back.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. Even though Az’Lean clearly knows how to dress well, you get the feeling he also prefers something comfortable and practical. It is your day off, yes, but any potential threat isn't going to respect that.
As soon as you are ready, you set out to find Az’Lean. There's still some time before the dance officially starts, but you’re not sure that you’ll find him in his room, so it’s better to leave early in case you have to go look for him. You do seem to be having some good luck though, as Az’Lean’s door opens immediately once you knock at it. He looks at you, neither surprised nor disappointed, and wordlessly lets you inside. You notice that he is dressed in primarily white linen - whiter than any fabric you have seen, honestly, it looks as pure as snow. Not exactly extravagant, but excellent for this heat. Still, it’s rare to see him in anything other than black or dark blue.
“I don’t know what to do with my hair,” he says by way of greeting as he moves in front of a small mirror he has placed on his desk. “Should I braid it? Leave it open? Maybe something else…?”
“Well, I suppose that depends on who you are trying to impress,” you say as you close the door behind you. “Have you decided who to go to the dance with yet?”
You purposefully don’t ask whether anyone has already asked him - of course they have. Dozens, most likely.
Az’Lean looks at you as he’s idly tugging on a strand of hair. “No, not yet. I don’t really want to dance with anyone, to be honest. Of course, I need to attend whether I like it or not. That’s why it’s only fair that Thianne has to force herself to go as well. I am owed at least that much pettiness, I’d say.”
You hum thoughtfully. If he isn’t interested in dancing at all, would he take it badly if you invited him as well?
“I also don’t know who I am going to dance with yet,” you say, trying to feel things out.
“Huh? I thought you might go with Vynn?” Az’Lean sounds genuinely surprised.
“They’ve been my partner at the Midnight Dance quite a few times already, so…”
The two of you look at each other almost coyly - like two fighters who have agreed to a duel, but neither wants to make the first move - like two wild animals, circling each other, trying to figure out whether the other one is a threat or not.
When Az’Lean opens his mouth to break the silence and make the first move, you don’t expect him to be quite so assertive. “Then the two of us might as well go together, right?”
It almost feels like a test, but you don’t care whether you pass it or not. “Sure, that sounds like a good time to me.”
“Perfect.” Az’Lean turns back towards his mirror. You note that he doesn’t seem particularly happy about this development… “Seeing as, apparently, it is you I am trying to impress tonight, tell me, what should I do with my hair?”
There’s something about his tone that seems off to you and it makes you hesitate.
“Wait, I-” you fumble slightly, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want you to think that I only agreed because I got sick of Vynn and didn’t have any other options, or- or because I’m trying to flaunt my position by being seen dancing with the prince or anything like that. The reason why I came here is to ask you to dance with me. You specifically, Az’Lean. Because I enjoy spending time with you.”
So much for asking him casually, though your words do seem to have their intended effect. His expression softens and he averts his gaze, suddenly vulnerable.
“Oh… Okay. Could you… give me a minute to get ready? I’ll join you in just a bit.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Of course, there’s no rush. We still have plenty of time.”
You step outside and lean against the cold stone wall of the corridor. This almost took an unintendedly bad turn, and you remind yourself that for Az’Lean, of course it isn’t apparent <i>why</i> anyone is asking him to spend time with them. Trying to imagine how many insincere invitations and compliments he has heard today alone makes your stomach churn - no wonder he has trouble believing you even when you’re trying to be sincere.
Not to mention your dynamic as prince and Champion, and everything else…
At least you have gotten better at reading him - or at least you think so - and spotted what was going on in time.
When Az’Lean eventually leaves his chambers and joins you, his hair parted - two-thirds are left open and flowing on the left, and one-third has been braided close to his scalp, snaking behind his right ear and secured in the back with golden pins. The hairstyle casts one half of his face in shadow while showing off the other half. It’s a good look on him.
“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod as you link your arms together.
As you leave the castle, Az’Lean seems to be filled with a sense of certainty and purpose - you’re glad he’s no longer doubting you. In fact, he almost seems a little bit excited, if the speed of his steps is anything to go by.
“You should pick a spot,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, though they immediately part and make way for you when they realise that they’re looking at the prince. In the end, you and Az’Lean end up in the middle of the crowd with quite a bit of room for yourselves.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as a few others. You also notice that quite a few people are looking at you - well, mostly at Az’Lean, but you by proxy. It’s only natural that people would be interested in the prince’s choice of dance partner. None of the people gawking at you seem particularly surprised and you’re not sure how that makes you feel.
“Does it bother you?” Az’Lean asks.
“No, of course not. Even if it did, I knew I was signing up for some amount of fame when I became your Champion anyways,” you’re quick to reassure. “If anything I’d worry more about how certain types of gossip might affect you.”
“Come now, people have been talking about the nature of our relationship from the very beginning,” Az’Lean says. “We could be entirely cold and professional towards each other, and still people would speculate as to what is going on behind closed doors. It’s the same for me and Thianne, and in fact any sort of person I come in contact with.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with all that.”
Az’Lean just shrugs. “It’s just part of being royalty. It doesn’t stop once you're married either, according to my father. Then it just switches to rumours about affairs and bastard children.”
You suppose when it comes to something like that, you either learn to ignore it or break before long. It still doesn’t sit right with you, but you get what Az’Lean means when he says it’s all part of the deal. With power and wealth comes a certain level of infamy and public interest, it’s unavoidable.
“Getting used to an annoyance doesn’t make it any less bad,” you say.
Az’Lean nods. “That is true. By the way, are you fine with me leading?”
“Yes, I am fine with that.” You don’t really mind, and even if you did, you doubt you’d have it in you to argue about it.
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Az’Lean smiles softly, taking it all in.
“Are you ready?” he asks, tentatively reaching out towards you.
You nod, confidently taking his hand in yours. It is a little cold and rough to the touch, but gentle in its grip. You rest your other hand on Az’Lean’s shoulder as he places his firmly on your waist. Blue eyes stare at you with a bit of hesitation, as though he’s expecting you to bail at the last second. You hold his gaze steadily, not wavering.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Az’Lean's grip on you tightens as he pulls you along with elegant and practised moves. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Az’Lean executes the steps perfectly, an expression of contemplation on his face as he looks at you, not quite allowing himself to relax completely.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
He gives you a half-smile and nods, pulling you just a tad closer anyway. You can feel that he is holding back, in some way - both concerning his strength and dancing skills, as well as emotional expression. You wish he’d feel more comfortable with you, but there’s not much you can do but be patient and hope he warms up.
When the next song starts, Az’Lean’s stance loosen up somewhat, and he seems to care less about following the proper steps. Once her twice he opts to just spin you around, leaving you dizzy but with a thrilled grin on your face. His hand feels a lot less cold now.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Az’Lean seems to be holding up a bit better, or maybe he just excels at keeping up a facade.
“I feel like we’ve been really showing off from the very beginning,” he says, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. It looks like his braid has come loose a little.
“How about getting something to drink after this next song?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“I might need that,” Az’Lean admits wryly. “Though we should be careful not to drink too much, all things considered.”
You understand his worry, though you wish he’d allow himself to let go just a bit more. Not being able to see him truly enjoy himself is beyond frustrating.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Don’t worry, everything in moderation.”|Chapter8ADanceA6]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Don’t worry, everything in moderation.”|Chapter8BDanceA]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Don’t worry, everything in moderation.”|Chapter8CDanceA]]
<<endif>><<set $Az to $Az + 10>>\
<<set $Azflag to $Azflag + 1>>\
You want to get closer to Az'Lean - not as your prince, but as a person. This might be the perfect opportunity to express that sentiment. It's your day off, so you have no obligation to spend time with him, but inviting him to dance will show that this is of your own volition. You want him to know that you care.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. Even though Az’Lean clearly knows how to dress well, you get the feeling he also prefers something comfortable and practical. It is your day off, yes, but any potential threat isn't going to respect that.
As soon as you are ready, you set out to find Az’Lean. There's still some time before the dance officially starts, but you’re not sure that you’ll find him in his room, so it’s better to leave early in case you have to go look for him. You do seem to be having some good luck though, as Az’Lean’s door opens immediately once you knock at it. He looks at you, neither surprised nor disappointed, and wordlessly lets you inside. You notice that he is dressed in primarily white linen - whiter than any fabric you have seen, honestly, it looks as pure as snow. Not exactly extravagant, but excellent for this heat. Still, it’s rare to see him in anything other than black or dark blue, and it is oddly captivating.
“I don’t know what to do with my hair,” he says by way of greeting as he moves in front of a small mirror he has placed on his desk. “Should I braid it? Leave it open? Maybe something else…?”
“Well, I suppose that depends on who you are trying to impress,” you say as you close the door behind you. “Have you decided who to go to the dance with yet?”
You purposefully don’t ask whether anyone has already asked him - of course they have. Dozens, most likely.
Az’Lean looks at you as he’s idly tugging on a strand of hair. “No, not yet. I don’t really want to dance with anyone, to be honest. Of course, I need to attend whether I like it or not. That’s why it’s only fair that Thianne has to force herself to go as well. I am owed at least that much pettiness, I’d say.”
You hum thoughtfully. If he isn’t interested in dancing at all, would he take it badly if you invited him as well? No, you can't back down now. If he hasn't accepted any of their invitations, then maybe it's because they weren't sincere in their interest - but you know that you are.
“Would you like to go to the dance with me?” You just come right out and voice the question. “I enjoy spending time with you, and whether you believe that the Midnight Dance really brings people together or not, I do want to be closer to you, Az'Lean.”
Az’Lean stares at you for a good few seconds. When he speaks he sounds disbelieving in a way that twists your heart. “Are you sure? I thought you'd want to dance with Vynn. You don't have to make me this offer because I was complaining; I'm sure I'll be fine on my own.”
What can you say to get through to him?
“Yes, I am sure. I have danced with Vynn many times already - this year, I'd rather dance with you. I'm not saying that because I feel obligated to and I'm also not saying it because dancing with you would increase my status or anything like that. I just-” You fumble a little, trying to find the right words. “The thought of dancing with you makes me feel warm, and excited. So there.”
You wonder whether that's too far, too tender, too affectionate for Az'Lean to be able to believe it. He's studying your face, trying to read the look in your eyes. Whatever he finds makes his eyes widen in something akin to wonder. In the end, your words do seem to have their intended effect. His expression softens and he averts his gaze, suddenly vulnerable.
“Oh… Okay. Could you… give me a minute to get ready? I’ll join you in just a bit.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Of course, there’s no rush. We still have plenty of time.”
You step outside and lean against the cold stone wall of the corridor. This almost took an unintendedly bad turn, and you remind yourself that for Az’Lean, of course it isn’t apparent <i>why</i> anyone is asking him to spend time with them. Trying to imagine how many insincere invitations and compliments he has heard today alone makes your stomach churn - no wonder he has trouble believing you even when you’re trying to be sincere.
Not to mention your dynamic as prince and Champion, and everything else…
At least you have gotten better at reading him - or at least you think so - and spotted what was going on in time.
When Az’Lean eventually leaves his chambers and joins you, his hair parted - two-thirds are left open and flowing on the left, and one-third has been braided close to his scalp, snaking behind his right ear and secured in the back with golden pins. The hairstyle casts one half of his face in shadow while showing off the other half. It’s a good look on him. Stunning even, to the point you can barely take your eyes off of him.
“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod as you link your arms together. It's not really necessary to walk the entire way to the marketplace this way, but you can't say you dislike it.
As you leave the castle, Az’Lean seems to be filled with a sense of certainty and purpose - you’re glad he’s no longer doubting you. In fact, he almost seems a little bit excited, if the speed of his steps is anything to go by.
“You should pick a spot,” you say as you make your way to the marketplace. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, though they immediately part and make way for you when they realise that they’re looking at the prince. In the end, you and Az’Lean end up in the middle of the crowd with quite a bit of room for yourselves.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Lester and an older woman whose eyes are covered, as well as a few others. You also notice that quite a few people are looking at you - well, mostly at Az’Lean, but you by proxy. It’s only natural that people would be interested in the prince’s choice of dance partner. None of the people gawking at you seem particularly surprised and you’re not sure how that makes you feel.
“Does it bother you?” Az’Lean asks.
“No, of course not. Even if it did, I knew I was signing up for some amount of fame when I became your Champion anyway,” you’re quick to reassure. “If anything I’d worry more about how certain types of gossip might affect you.”
“Come now, people have been talking about the nature of our relationship from the very beginning,” Az’Lean says. “We could be entirely cold and professional towards each other, and still people would speculate as to what is going on behind closed doors. It’s the same for me and Thianne, and in fact any sort of person I come in contact with.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with all that.”
Az’Lean just shrugs. “It’s just part of being royalty. It doesn’t stop once you're married either, according to my father. Then it just switches to rumours about affairs and bastard children.”
You suppose when it comes to something like that, you either learn to ignore it or break before long. It still doesn’t sit right with you, but you get what Az’Lean means when he says it’s all part of the deal. With power and wealth comes a certain level of infamy and public interest, it’s unavoidable.
“Getting used to an annoyance doesn’t make it any less bad,” you say.
Az’Lean nods. “That is true. By the way, are you fine with me leading?”
“Yes, I am fine with that.” You don’t really mind, and even if you did, you doubt you’d have it in you to argue about it.
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and Az’Lean smiles softly, taking it all in. You're more busy looking at him than the crowd, to be honest.
“Are you ready?” he asks, tentatively reaching out towards you.
Your heart flutters a little, but you nod, confidently taking his hand in yours. It is a little cold and rough to the touch, but gentle in its grip. You rest your other hand on Az’Lean’s shoulder as he places his firmly on your waist. Blue eyes stare at you with a bit of hesitation, as though he’s expecting you to bail at the last second. You hold his gaze steadily, not wavering. This is exactly where you want to be right now.
A few seconds later, the music starts. Az’Lean's grip on you tightens as he pulls you along with elegant and practised moves. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Still, you manage to keep rhythm with the upbeat song and the steps come to you easily enough. It’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat.
Az’Lean executes the steps perfectly, an expression of contemplation on his face as he looks at you, not quite allowing himself to relax completely.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you say as you continue to spin around each other.
He gives you a half-smile and nods, pulling you just a tad closer anyway. You can feel that he is holding back, in some way - both concerning his strength and dancing skills, as well as emotional expression. You wish he’d feel more comfortable with you, but there’s not much you can do but be patient and hope he warms up.
When the next song starts, Az’Lean’s stance loosens up somewhat, and he seems to care less about following the proper steps. Once or twice he opts to just spin you around, leaving you dizzy but with a thrilled grin on your face. His hand feels a lot less cold now.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Az’Lean seems to be holding up a bit better, or maybe he just excels at keeping up a facade.
“I feel like we’ve been really showing off from the very beginning,” he says, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. It looks like his braid has come loose a little. The urge to reach out and fix it is mildly distracting.
“How about getting something to drink after this next song?” you suggest, eyeing the crowd around you. Half of them seem to be well on their way to getting drunk already.
“I might need that,” Az’Lean admits wryly. “Though we should be careful not to drink too much, all things considered.”
You understand his worry, though you wish he’d allow himself to let go just a bit more. Not being able to see him truly enjoy himself is beyond frustrating.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[“Don’t worry, everything in moderation.”|Chapter8ADanceA6]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[“Don’t worry, everything in moderation.”|Chapter8BDanceA]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[“Don’t worry, everything in moderation.”|Chapter8CDanceA]]
<<endif>>You dance through the third song, and Az'Lean finally seems able to enjoy himself somewhat, pulling you this way and that and grinning all the while. By the end of it, the two of you are laughing as you fight your way out of the crowd, bumping into people left and right.
“This is more fun than I thought it'd be,” Az'Lean says when you come to a halt at the very edge of the marketplace.
You're breathing somewhat heavily and just barely manage to get out a: "It's been wonderful, Az'Lean."
The two of you take some time to simply relax, observing the people around you before Az'Lean speaks up again. “How about I go and get us some ale?” he says. “My treat. It's the least I can do as thanks for putting up with me.”
You throw him a disapproving look. “Don't call it that! I am having a great time and you are perhaps the best dance partner I've ever had.”
Az'Lean allows himself a smirk at that. “Is that so? You're not too bad yourself, though I feel like you at some points forgot that I was supposed to lead.”
“I was just trying to get you to move some more! You were like an ice statue at the beginning,” you say, shaking your head fondly. “And look, it worked, didn't it?”
“Then I guess that's just one more reason why I should buy you a drink, hm, $playername?” He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “You did a great job at... helping me relax.”
If you didn't know any better, you could almost interpret that as an attempt at flirting. Almost.
You sit down on a nearby bench, looking at Az'Lean expectantly.
“Then I guess I should be grateful,” you say, crossing your legs in a show of getting comfortable. “Go on then, one ale for me, please.”
Az'Lean chuckles. “One ale for $playername, coming right up. I trust you'll still be here when I get back.”
You get the feeling that you might be waiting here a while, considering how many other people are probably standing in line. It's fine though - you're content with simply sitting here and enjoying the night breeze for a while.
[[You watch as Az'Lean disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8BDance]]You dance through the third song, and Az'Lean finally seems able to enjoy himself somewhat, pulling you this way and that and grinning all the while. By the end of it, the two of you are laughing as you fight your way out of the crowd, bumping into people left and right.
“This is more fun than I thought it'd be,” Az'Lean says when you come to a halt at the very edge of the marketplace.
You're breathing somewhat heavily and just barely manage to get out a: "It's been wonderful, Az'Lean."
The two of you take some time to simply relax, observing the people around you before Az'Lean speaks up again. “How about I go and get us some ale?” he says. “My treat. It's the least I can do as thanks for putting up with me.”
You throw him a disapproving look. “Don't call it that! I am having a great time and you are perhaps the best dance partner I've ever had.”
Az'Lean allows himself a smirk at that. “Is that so? You're not too bad yourself, though I feel like you at some points forgot that I was supposed to lead.”
“I was just trying to get you to move some more! You were like an ice statue at the beginning,” you say, shaking your head fondly. “And look, it worked, didn't it?”
“Then I guess that's just one more reason why I should buy you a drink, hm, $playername?” He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “You did a great job at... helping me relax.”
If you didn't know any better, you could almost interpret that as an attempt at flirting. Almost.
You sit down on a nearby bench, looking at Az'Lean expectantly.
“Then I guess I should be grateful,” you say, crossing your legs in a show of getting comfortable. “Go on then, one ale for me, please.”
Az'Lean chuckles. “One ale for $playername, coming right up. I trust you'll still be here when I get back.”
You get the feeling that you might be waiting here a while, considering how many other people are probably standing in line. It's fine though - you're content with simply sitting here and enjoying the night breeze for a while.
[[You watch as Az'Lean disappears into the crowd.|Chapter8CDance]]<<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
<<set $Lesterflag to $Lesterflag + 1>>\
It's best to state your intentions clearly. You wouldn't want Lester to get the wrong idea and run with it, and you have to doubt about the fact that he would, whether he truly wants to or to embarrass you is up for debate. Either way, all you want as of now is a fun dance among friends.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. You don’t want to put Lester off by showing up dressed like a pompous noble; there’s no way he’d appreciate that.
As soon as you are ready, you set out to find him. As always, just asking around does the trick, not many people forget having seen a half-sprite walking around. In the end, you find Lester sitting in the castle courtyard by himself, all but curled up in the sun, soaking up every bit of warmth he can get. How very cat-like of him. You notice he’s dressed more sharply than usual - black leather pants and a burgundy vest over a white shirt.
Lester looks up when you approach, grinning broadly with an air of self-satisfaction. He gets up languidly, stretching this way and that, waiting for you to say something.
Best to be as direct and clear as possible. “Hello there, Lester,” you say. “Would you like to go to the Midnight Dance with me later? Might I add, this invitation is entirely platonic.”
His grin widens, amusement sparkling in his bright green eyes. “I knew you were going to ask me! It would be my honour to humbly accept your invitation, $playername Grahm, and deepen our blooming friendship this fine evening.” He gives you a deep bow that’s only mostly mocking.
“Glad to hear it. I have to ask, though, how did you know I was going to ask you? And if you did, does that mean I’m the one you dressed up for tonight?” You gesture at his outfit.
Lester hesitates for a moment, adjusting his vest. He’s- he’s not self-conscious, is he? His moment of insecurity passes so quickly, you almost might think you imagined it. Almost.
“You know nothing gets past me, $playername. I will admit to keeping tabs, let’s call it, on you and a few other people of interest. I know for a fact that you haven’t asked Vynn or the Princeling to dance with you, and apparently just minutes ago, you were asking around the castle trying to locate <i>me</i>. For what other purpose than to invite me, right?” Lester shoots you a smug wink. “As for whether I’m wearing this to impress you… Yes. Not <i>only</i> you, but yes, you are included in the group of people I would want to look my best for. Mostly just so I’m not-”
Lester cuts himself off, expression turning decidedly neutral. You take a moment to process his words, and you get the feeling that you know what has him hesitating.
“Don’t think for a second that I would ever be embarrassed to be seen with you, Lester,” you say as sincerely as you can.
He averts his gaze. “I appreciate the reassurance, Champ.”
The nickname didn’t really bother you before, but it suddenly makes you all too aware of your difference in status - you being fae notwithstanding. Maybe you should tell him to stop calling you that…?
Before you can make a choice about that either way, Lester has already moved on, not allowing himself to get bogged down. “I do have to warn you, though, I’m not a very conventional dancer. Not saying I’m a bad one, for the record, I just never bothered learning how you’re supposed to do it. Also, my stature doesn’t really lend itself well to it either way.”
“What do you mean by unconventional?” you ask, genuinely intrigued.
Lester just wags his finger at you. “Patience. I’ll show you later. We still have quite a bit of time before the dance is going to start. Is there anything you want to do before that? How about getting some food? Can’t dance on an empty stomach, after all.”
“Good idea. We should scope out how crowded the marketplace is. Even if it’s nowhere near midnight yet, I bet it’s already crawling with people. If we’re not careful, there might not even be space left to dance in.”
“I’m sure they’d make space for the Champion, wouldn’t they?”
“They might, but I’m not going to start pestering people and demand they make room for me. Let’s just make sure we get there on time.”
“Fair enough. Shall we go then?”
Lester offers his arm to you. It is a little awkward, but you hook your arm into his and head out together. The entire way from the castle into the city proper you stay linked together, catching the attention of pretty much everyone you come across. People seem unable to not stare at you, but thankfully that’s all they do.
You still get the feeling it might bother Lester, and you hope that’s not going to stop him from enjoying himself.
After grabbing a bite to eat, you and Lester scope out the marketplace. People are already crowding around the stage even though the music hasn’t even started yet. It’s a bit of a challenge to push past this many people.
“Here should be good enough,” you say as you find a spot a bit more towards the back of the marketplace but still well within range to hear the music. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, so you really don’t mind not being directly in the middle of all the action.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Vynn and his siblings, who seem content to dance as a group, as well as Thianne and Az’Lean.
“Those two are planning to dance together?” you say, eyeing them from across the way. It’s weird to imagine Thianne dancing to begin with, nevermind together with the prince. By the look on her face, she isn’t too enthused about it either.
“Neither of them looks thrilled to be here,” Lester comments curiously.
“I guess some people aren’t very fond of crowds, especially when there’s alcohol and loud music involved,” you say. “Though if you’re not having fun, why bother showing up at all?”
“Clearly Princeling can’t afford not to show his face here, and so he forced Thianne to share his pain,” Lester says with a shrug. “I almost feel bad for them. But let’s focus on us for now.”
“Fair enough. You said you were an unconditional dancer. What should I expect? Would you prefer to be the one to lead, then?”
Lester just laughs and shakes his head. “Why’s there a need for someone to lead? We should just go with the flow and do what feels right. If you want to follow my lead, you can, but it’s also fine if you want to do your own thing.”
“What do you mean? I can’t very well dance by myself.”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and you stare at Lester with some amount of anticipation and confusion.
“Just grab my hand and observe what I’m doing. You’ll catch on quick,” he says, slowly reaching out towards you.
You nod, firmly taking his hand in yours. When you're about to put your other one on his shoulder, he grabs it instead. At this point you’re just standing across from each other, holding hands. As warm and comforting as it feels, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to dance like this. Green eyes stare at you with determination and you try to stop thinking so hard.
A few seconds later, the music starts. A dazzling smile illuminates Lester’s face as his grip on you tightens and he pulls you towards him with surprising strength, moving backwards and forwards in time with the rhythm. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Usually, you’re used to more or less staying in one spot while dancing, slowly rotating with your partner.
Lester, evidently, has other plans. He pulls you along, spins you around, switches positions every few seconds, always in time with the upbeat song. You do your best to keep up with him. Really, it’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat. Lester’s feet are incredibly quick and graceful, dancing circles around you, all but making you chase after him until you’re left dizzy.
“You’re doing great, $playername,” he says, literal sparks flying through the air as he twists around and performs a one-handed cartwheel.
You’re left laughing, full of giddy glee and wonder at the absurd yet incredibly skillful display. It’s not like any dancing you’ve ever learned, much closer to the type of movements you’d see performed on stage and equally as captivating.
When the next song starts, Lester takes it a bit easier on you. You just hold hands, lazily spinning around each other. You’re certain it’s only because he needs to catch his breath, but maybe it’s also so he can look at you better. You see your own joy reflected in his eyes, his normally slit pupils blown wide.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Lester seems to be in much the same condition as he wipes a few drops of sweat from his brow.
“I bet this isn’t what you expected when you invited me to join you tonight,” he says with a snort.
“It’s much better than anything I could’ve imagined, to be entirely honest with you. And much more exhausting.”
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” he suggests, unable to stop smiling.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You’re certain the same smile is stuck on your face as well.|Chapter8ADanceL]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You’re certain the same smile is stuck on your face as well.|Chapter8BDanceL]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You’re certain the same smile is stuck on your face as well.|Chapter8CDanceL]]
<<endif>><<set $Lester to $Lester + 10>>\
<<set $Lesterflag to $Lesterflag + 1>>\
You don't mind leaving your dynamic open to something more, and flirting can be fun either way. You doubt that Lester expects anything much from you, and him being serious is another matter entirely, so you should just focus on having a good time tonight.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. This is only a casual dance in a massive crowd of people, after all, not a royal ball. You don’t want to put Lester off by showing up dressed like a pompous noble; there’s no way he’d appreciate that.
<<if $cards == "yes">>Before you leave, your eyes land on the deck of tarot cards you bought two days ago. It wouldn't feel right to you to invite Lester without accompanying it with some kind of present. You want to show that you care, and Lester might enjoy these cards. In fact, they're the only thing in your posession he would enjoy. Best to take them with you.<<endif>>\
As soon as you are ready, you set out to find him. As always, just asking around does the trick, not many people forget having seen a half-sprite walking around. In the end, you find Lester sitting in the castle courtyard by himself, all but curled up in the sun, soaking up every bit of warmth he can get. How very cat-like of him. You notice he’s dressed more sharply than usual - black leather pants and a burgundy vest over a white shirt. It is a good look and does a lot to accentuate his finer features.
Lester looks up when you approach, grinning broadly with an air of self-satisfaction. He gets up languidly, stretching this way and that, waiting for you to say something.
“Hello there, Lester,” you say, keeping your tone light. “Would you like to go to the Midnight Dance with me later? I'm sure it would be a lot of fun.”
His grin widens, amusement sparkling in his bright green eyes. “I knew you were going to ask me! It would be my honour to humbly accept your invitation, $playername Grahm, and use this opportunity to grow closer to you this fine evening.” He gives you a deep bow that’s only mostly mocking.
“Glad to hear it. I have to ask, though, how did you know I was going to ask you? And if you did, does that mean I’m the one you dressed up for tonight?” You gesture at his outfit, allowing yourself a teasing smirk.
Lester hesitates for a moment, adjusting his vest. He’s- he’s not self-conscious, is he? His moment of insecurity passes so quickly, you almost might think you imagined it. Almost.
“You know nothing gets past me, $playername. I will admit to keeping tabs, let’s call it, on you and a few other people of interest. I know for a fact that you haven’t asked Vynn or the Princeling to dance with you, and apparently just minutes ago, you were asking around the castle trying to locate <i>me</i>. For what other purpose than to invite me, right? I mean, who could resist?” Lester shoots you a playful wink. “As for whether I’m wearing this to impress you… Yes. Not <i>only</i> you, but yes, you are included in the group of people I would want to look my best for. Mostly just so I’m not-”
Lester cuts himself off, expression turning decidedly neutral. You take a moment to process his words, and you get the feeling that you know what has him hesitating.
“Don’t think for a second that I would ever be embarrassed to be seen with you, Lester,” you say as sincerely as you can. “And know that I am in fact impressed, for you do look rather dashing.”
He averts his gaze. “I appreciate the reassurance, Champ.”
The nickname didn’t really bother you before, but it suddenly makes you all too aware of your difference in status - you being fae notwithstanding. Maybe you should tell him to stop calling you that…?
Before you can make a choice about that either way, Lester has already moved on, not allowing himself to get bogged down. “I do have to warn you, though, I’m not a very conventional dancer. Not saying I’m a bad one, for the record, I just never bothered learning how you’re supposed to do it. Also, my stature doesn’t really lend itself well to it either way.”
“What do you mean by unconventional?” you ask, genuinely intrigued.
Lester just wags his finger at you. “Patience. I’ll show you later. We still have quite a bit of time before the dance is going to start. Is there anything you want to do before that? How about getting some food? Can’t dance on an empty stomach, after all.”
“Good idea. We should scope out how crowded the marketplace is. Even if it’s nowhere near midnight yet, I bet it’s already crawling with people. If we’re not careful, there might not even be space left to dance in.”
“I’m sure they’d make space for the Champion, wouldn’t they?”
“They might, but I’m not going to start pestering people and demand they make room for me. Let’s just make sure we get there on time.”
“Fair enough. Shall we go then?”
<<if $cards == "yes">>You remember the tarot cards. “Oh, just one more thing, Lester. Here, I got you a gift. Take it as thanks for accepting my impromptu invitation."
You carefully hand him the deck of cards. He stares at it, confused. As he takes the time to look at the images of the cards, running his hands across them in appreciation, a certain type of fondness is reflected in his eyes that you haven't seen there before.
“Thank you, $playername. These are great! I promise I'll take good care of them, and maybe I can do a reading for you later.“
Warmth spreads through you as you watch him slip them into this pocket with a smile.<<endif>>\
Lester offers his arm to you. It is a little awkward, but you hook your arm into his and head out together. The entire way from the castle into the city proper you stay linked together, catching the attention of pretty much everyone you come across. People seem unable to not stare at you, but thankfully that’s all they do.
You still get the feeling it might bother Lester, and you hope that’s not going to stop him from enjoying himself. You, for one, are already liking this quite a bit.
After grabbing a bite to eat, you and Lester scope out the marketplace. People are already crowding around the stage even though the music hasn’t even started yet. It’s a bit of a challenge to push past this many people.
“Here should be good enough,” you say as you find a spot a bit more towards the back of the marketplace but still well within range to hear the music. All of the stalls are in the process of either being pushed to the side or taken down completely to make room for the massive swarm of people that’s beginning to flood the entire area.
Although the sun has already set, it’s still light out, and it will stay at least somewhat bright until midnight. The heat is sweltering and the mass of people doesn’t help, so you really don’t mind not being directly in the middle of all the action.
You spot quite a few people you know, all already partnered up. Among them are your parents, Vynn’s parents, Sir Asperame and his wife, Melinda and Mordey, Abigail and Fowain, Vynn and his siblings, who seem content to dance as a group, as well as Thianne and Az’Lean.
“Those two are planning to dance together?” you say, eyeing them from across the way. It’s weird to imagine Thianne dancing to begin with, nevermind together with the prince. By the look on her face, she isn’t too enthused about it either.
“Neither of them looks thrilled to be here,” Lester comments curiously.
“I guess some people aren’t very fond of crowds, especially when there’s alcohol and loud music involved,” you say. “Though if you’re not having fun, why bother showing up at all?”
“Clearly Princeling can’t afford not to show his face here, and so he forced Thianne to share his pain,” Lester says with a shrug. “I almost feel bad for them. But let’s focus on <i>us</i> for now.” He underlines the word with a cockily raised eyebrow.
“Ha! Fair enough. You said you were an unconditional dancer. What should I expect? Would you prefer to be the one to lead, then? You do seem the type.”
Lester just laughs and shakes his head. “Why’s there a need for someone to lead? We should just go with the flow and do what feels right. If you want to follow my lead, you can, but it’s also fine if you want to do your own thing.”
“What do you mean? I can’t very well dance by myself.”
Just then, a group of musicians takes the stage, bringing drums, flutes, lyres, lutes and even a zither. King Az’Marn joins them on the stage for just a moment, announcing the start of the Midnight Dance and with that also the end of the festival. Cheers erupt from everywhere around you and you stare at Lester with some amount of anticipation and confusion.
“Just grab my hand and observe what I’m doing. You’ll catch on quick,” he says, slowly reaching out towards you, not asking permission but waiting for you to give it anyway.
You nod, firmly taking his hand in yours. When you're about to put your other one on his shoulder, he grabs it instead. At this point you’re just standing across from each other, holding hands. As warm and comforting as it feels, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to dance like this. Green eyes stare at you with determination and you try to stop thinking so hard.
A few seconds later, the music starts. A dazzling smile illuminates Lester’s face as his grip on you tightens and he pulls you towards him with surprising strength, moving backwards and forwards in time with the rhythm. You have some experience with dancing, though admittedly you’re not an expert. Usually, you’re used to more or less staying in one spot while dancing, slowly rotating with your partner.
Lester, evidently, has other plans. He pulls you along, spins you around, switches positions every few seconds, always in time with the upbeat song. You do your best to keep up with him. Really, it’s not that different from all the footwork training you’ve done for combat. Lester’s feet are incredibly quick and graceful, dancing circles around you, all but making you chase after him until you’re left dizzy. You can't help the way your heart lurches every once in a while.
“You’re doing great, $playername,” he says, literal sparks flying through the air as he twists around and performs a one-handed cartwheel.
You’re left laughing, full of giddy glee and wonder at the absurd yet incredibly skillful display. It’s not like any dancing you’ve ever learned, much closer to the type of movements you’d see performed on stage and equally as captivating. You don't want to miss a second of it.
When the next song starts, Lester takes it a bit easier on you. You just hold hands, lazily spinning around each other. You’re certain it’s only because he needs to catch his breath, but maybe it’s also so he can look at you better. You see your own joy reflected in his eyes, his normally slit pupils blown wide. He's blushing, too, though you take care not to read too much into it.
There’s a short break between the second and third song, just in time for you to catch your breath. You can feel your heart beat faster with excitement as well as from the exertion, warmth spreading through you at a rate that’s almost unbearable. Lester seems to be in much the same condition as he wipes a few drops of sweat from his brow.
“I bet this isn’t what you expected when you invited me to join you tonight,” he says with a snort.
You can feel a deep fondness uncurling inside your chest. “It’s much better than anything I could’ve imagined, to be entirely honest with you. And much more exhausting.”
“One more song and then we’ll get something to drink, yeah?” he suggests, unable to stop smiling.
<<if $route == 1>>
[[You’re certain the same smile is stuck on your face as well.|Chapter8ADanceL]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 2>>
[[You’re certain the same smile is stuck on your face as well.|Chapter8BDanceL]]
<<endif>>
<<if $route == 3>>
[[You’re certain the same smile is stuck on your face as well.|Chapter8CDanceL]]
<<endif>>You dance through the third song, and both you and Lester are left exhausted and exhilarated almost to the point of delirium. By the end of it, the two of you are laughing as you fight your way out of the crowd, bumping into people left and right.
“Where’d you learn to dance like that, anyway?” you ask as you move toward the edge of the marketplace.
“Oh you know, here and there. No dances are as boring as human nobles' you have to understand.”
The two of you take some time to simply relax, observing the people around you before Lester speaks up again. “How about I go and get us some ale?” he says. “You can look for a place to sit down in the meantime. If we want to keep going all night, we'll need to take a break.”
It’s only been three songs and you already feel some of your muscles protesting. Combat training is one thing, dancing with Lester apparently isn’t even comparable. “Sure thing. I do think I need to sit down for a minute or two. You’ll be able to find me, won’t you?”
Lester gives you a mock salute. “I’ll comb the entire area for you if I must, esteemed Champion.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get distracted. I can’t promise I won’t start dancing with someone else if you take too long,” you tease.
He just smiles at you. “I don’t believe that for a second, $playername, but I’ll hurry nonetheless. Be back in a sec!”
With that he runs off, disappearing into the crowd immediately. You take a moment to locate the nearest empty bench and go to claim it for the two of you.
You get the feeling that you might be waiting here a while, considering how many other people are probably standing in line. It's fine though - you're content with simply sitting here and enjoying the night breeze for a while.
[[You’ve already had a blast.|Chapter8BDanceL2]]
You dance through the third song, and both you and Lester are left exhausted and exhilarated almost to the point of delirium. By the end of it, the two of you are laughing as you fight your way out of the crowd, bumping into people left and right.
“Where’d you learn to dance like that, anyway?” you ask as you move toward the edge of the marketplace.
“Oh you know, here and there. No dances are as boring as human nobles' you have to understand.”
The two of you take some time to simply relax, observing the people around you before Lester speaks up again. “How about I go and get us some ale?” he says. “You can look for a place to sit down in the meantime. If we want to keep going all night, we'll need to take a break.”
It’s only been three songs and you already feel some of your muscles protesting. Combat training is one thing, dancing with Lester apparently isn’t even comparable. “Sure thing. I do think I need to sit down for a minute or two. You’ll be able to find me, won’t you?”
Lester gives you a mock salute. “I’ll comb the entire area for you if I must, esteemed Champion.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get distracted. I can’t promise I won’t start dancing with someone else if you take too long,” you tease.
He just smiles at you. “I don’t believe that for a second, $playername, but I’ll hurry nonetheless. Be back in a sec!”
With that he runs off, disappearing into the crowd immediately. You take a moment to locate the nearest empty place to sit, a bench next to the fountain, and go to claim it for the two of you.
You get the feeling that you might be waiting here a while, considering how many other people are probably standing in line. It's fine though - you're content with simply sitting here and enjoying the night breeze for a while.
[[You’ve already had a blast.|Chapter8CDance]]
<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
<<set $Maeveflag to $Maeveflag + 1>>\
It's best to state your intentions clearly. You know that Maeve and you are used to different customs, different ways to express affection and interest in people, and you do not want to mislead her. This is simply meant to be an opportunity to spend time with her and strengthen your bond as friends and allies - anything else than that would be too much right now.
You're not certain how she'll react to your invitation, but you doubt she'd pass up on the chance, as rare as it is with you two being separated like this. At the very least you hope she will - it would sting a bit if she turned you down, that much you can admit.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. Human fashion won't mean much to Maeve, anyway, and if all goes well, it will be just the two of you in the castle gardens - there won't be a crowd to impress. People will likely wonder where you are, but you can always say you weren't feeling well. Food poisoning isn't rare during festivities on hot summer days such as this one, after all.
When you arrive in the gardens, you are relieved to find them entirely deserted. Why would there be any need to guard them when almost everyone is in the city right now, getting ready to dance and celebrate the night away. Posting guards here would just be waste of resources, luckily for you.
Much to your surprise, Maeve is already there, standing beneath the willow in a brazen display of disregard for any sort of subtlety. She's wearing a flowing, pale pink dress that matches her hair colour, its soft layers looking like the petals of a rose as they fan out from her hips.
She runs over to greet you as soon as she sees you. “$playername! I was hoping you’d show up tonight. I’m sure you must have plans, but ‘tis still nice of you to stop by.”
“Actually, my plan is to do more than just <i>stop by</i>. Maeve, how would you like it if we spent this evening together? We don’t often get the opportunity to deepen our friendship, after all.”
Her face immediately lights up. “I would love nothing more, $playername! I did consider the possibility that you would make this choice, so truth be told, I have come prepared.” She summons a small, light blue crystal out of seemingly nowhere, though you figure it must be from her grove. “There is music recorded on this, so we could dance, if you’d like.”
You take a good look at the crystal in her hand, but you can’t quite figure out how it’s supposed to work. The answer is obviously magic, but still, this kind of advanced technique could be used to record all kinds of conversation, music and sounds. The fact that you haven’t ever heard of it must mean it is either very difficult to pull off, or there is some kind of major drawback to it. As curious as you are, you supposed now isn’t the time to get into those kinds of details.
“Of course I’d like to dance with you, Maeve,” you say, looking up at her. “It would be a waste not to.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she says before placing the crystal gently on the ground. It tips over and immediately begins to glow. Soft, ephemeral music begins playing. It is odd not to be able to locate the sound, instead it feels like it is playing inside your head. Most of the instruments you recognise, but there are a few that sound like howling wind and strange, distant bells that you can’t identify at all. The melody is melancholic, almost haunting in its mixture of longing and futility. A chill runs down your spine and you can feel your head start spinning just from listening to it. It’s like you’re running a fever all of a sudden - you feel hot, dazed, and disoriented.
“Give it a minute, it’ll pass,” Maeve says, her face flushed. She must be experiencing something similar. “Side effects of the song magic,” she explains. “It’s usually used to hypnotise or otherwise charm someone, so even though I didn’t give it that effect, some of it is inherent to the magic. But it’ll wear off in just a second, I promise.”
You nod weakly at her, suddenly on edge when you consider how powerful this type of magic would be if she used it with proper intent. As it stands, the dizziness clears up quickly, though you are left feeling a bit warm and tingly. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, all things considered.
“Shall we?” Maeve asks as she gently offers you her hand.
“Are you going to lead?” you ask as you take it. Her fingers are long and delicate, but her skin is rough like tree bark and just as sturdy.
“We don’t have that concept,” she explains. “There are no steps to follow, either. We simply move with the music, and it will put our bodies naturally in sync. But if you’re unsure, I can guide you. Teach you.”
“Yes. I want to learn,” you say, trying to feel the music. There must be some instinctual or magical aspect to it, for when Maeve begins to pull you along, shuffling from side to side and spinning you around, you don’t even have to think much about what you are doing - the movements just come naturally.
“You’re doing great,” she says with a joyful giggle. “Now you try doing something - whatever you want, whatever the music and your body tell you to do.”
Truly, you aren't certain what you are doing. Some part of you is moving like you're fighting, replacting footwork you learned in combat training, using it to shift your centre of gravity this way and that. Another part of you desperately trying to convey something, some kind of emotion, through your movements. Maeve is linked to your through your joined hands and you move as one as you express a part of yourself and watch it ripple through her.
Maeve's pitch black eyes are alight with fiery passion, bright like the night sky, as she responds to your moves with her own - a physical call and response between the two of you. At various points the music changes, different songs, not separated by silence but distinct in their feel. Neither of you leads, as Maeve said, and neither of you speaks a word. There is no need at all, the dance is communication in itself, in its purest, most tangible form. There's something that connects you, music or magic, maybe both.
You spend a long time like this, losing yourself in the moment. Surely, hours must have passed - your body certainly feels like it. Heat rushing through you, sweat threatening to drip into your eyes, subtle tremors coursing through you from excitement and exhaustion.
Maeve seems to be in much the same condition, and the two of you slow down for a bit, pausing to catch your breaths.
“Who knew dancing could be this exhausting?” you say, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. “I was talking big about spending the entire night like this, but I doubt I can keep it up.”
“You have your regular duties tomorrow morning, don’t you? Shouldn’t they give you the day after this off too? Seems unfair to expect you to be up with the sun after a celebration as large as this one,” Maeve says with a scoff.
“It is what it is. I’m the Champion, I’m not supposed to be behaving irresponsibly in the first place. They trust that I know when it’s time to get some rest. That being said, maybe I should make sure to at least show myself at the marketplace before turning in for the night.”
“Don’t start getting careless on my behalf. If that’s what you should do to avoid drawing attention to yourself, then I am all for it. It has been a lot of fun so far, $playername, so let’s end this on a high note. One last dance before you go?” She bows low as she offers you her hand.
There’s no way you could possibly resist.
This final dance is a lot slower, truly conveying the feeling of saying ‘farewell’, of the night coming to an end. Now that you don’t have to focus so much on keeping up with Maeve, you find yourself just looking at her, taking in every detail of her face and committing it to memory. She deserves it. The way she is smiling down at you, all soft and mushy, she’s doing much the same.
When this last dance ends, it is with reluctance that you part. Maeve makes it easy for you, patting your shoulder before picking up the crystal and vanishing with a whispered “good night, and sleep well” that echoes through the gardens.
You wipe the sappy smile off your face as you head into the city, where people are dancing to much different music, drunk and sweaty masses of humans moving around each other, couples dancing to upbeat rhythms, and everyone laughing and talking over each other. It’s cacophonous and chaotic compared to the quiet intimacy of before.
It’s grating and too much. Your first instinct is to look for a place to sit down. Already you don’t care anymore about finding people you know.
[[You’re glad you spent time with Maeve instead of being here.|Chapter8CDance]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
<<set $Maeveflag to $Maeveflag + 1>>\
There is no need to define your relationship with Maeve. She is interesting, you enjoy spending time with her, and you want to grow closer to her - that's all that really matters. If she wants to read into that or make a move, it's certainly not going to bother you. You plan to keep an open mind and just see where this night takes you.
You're not certain how she'll react to your invitation, but you doubt she'd pass up on the chance, as rare as it is with you two being separated like this. At the very least you hope she will - it would sting a bit if she turned you down, that much you can admit.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. Human fashion won't mean much to Maeve, anyway, and if all goes well, it will be just the two of you in the castle gardens - there won't be a crowd to impress. People will likely wonder where you are, but you can always say you weren't feeling well. Food poisoning isn't rare during festivities on hot summer days such as this one, after all.
When you arrive in the gardens, you are relieved to find them entirely deserted. Why would there be any need to guard them when almost everyone is in the city right now, getting ready to dance and celebrate the night away. Posting guards here would just be waste of resources, luckily for you.
Much to your surprise, Maeve is already there, standing beneath the willow in a brazen display of disregard for any sort of subtlety. She's wearing a flowing, pale pink dress that matches her hair colour, its soft layers looking like the petals of a rose as they fan out from her hips. She looks stunning to the point that you have a hard time taking your eyes off of her.
She runs over to greet you as soon as she sees you. “$playername! I was hoping you’d show up tonight. I’m sure you must have plans, but ‘tis still nice of you to stop by.”
“Actually, my plan is to do more than just <i>stop by</i>. Maeve, how would you like it if we spent this evening together? We don’t often get the opportunity to do so, after all.”
Her face immediately lights up. “I would love nothing more, $playername! I did consider the possibility that you would make this choice, so truth be told, I have come prepared.” She summons a small, light blue crystal out of seemingly nowhere, though you figure it must be from her grove. “There is music recorded on this, so we could dance, if you’d like.” Her grin is sharp - she's challenging you to refuse.
You take a good look at the crystal in her hand, but you can’t quite figure out how it’s supposed to work. The answer is obviously magic, but still, this kind of advanced technique could be used to record all kinds of conversation, music and sounds. The fact that you haven’t ever heard of it must mean it is either very difficult to pull off, or there is some kind of major drawback to it. As curious as you are, you supposed now isn’t the time to get into those kinds of details.
“Of course I’d like to dance with you, Maeve,” you say, looking up at her. “It would be a waste not to.”
Her grin softens into a satisfied smile.
“My thoughts exactly,” she says before placing the crystal gently on the ground. It tips over and immediately begins to glow. Soft, ephemeral music begins playing. It is odd not to be able to locate the sound, instead it feels like it is playing inside your head. Most of the instruments you recognise, but there are a few that sound like howling wind and strange, distant bells that you can’t identify at all. The melody is melancholic, almost haunting in its mixture of longing and futility. A chill runs down your spine and you can feel your head start spinning just from listening to it. It’s like you’re running a fever all of a sudden - you feel hot, dazed, and disoriented.
“Give it a minute, it’ll pass,” Maeve says, her face flushed in a way that makes your breath hitch when you see it. She must be experiencing something similar. “Side effects of the song magic,” she explains. “It’s usually used to hypnotise or otherwise charm someone, so even though I didn’t give it that effect, some of it is inherent to the magic. But it’ll wear off in just a second, I promise.”
You nod weakly at her, suddenly on edge when you consider how powerful this type of magic would be if she used it with proper intent. As it stands, the dizziness clears up quickly, though you are left feeling a bit warm and tingly. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, all things considered. There's something... <i>exquisite</i> about it all.
“Shall we?” Maeve asks as she gently offers you her hand, an intensity in her gaze that locks you in place.
“Are you going to lead?” you ask as you take it. Her fingers are long and delicate, but her skin is rough like tree bark and just as sturdy. Firm and grounding.
“We don’t have that concept,” she explains. “There are no steps to follow, either. We simply move with the music, and it will put our bodies naturally in sync. But if you’re unsure, I can guide you. Teach you.”
“Yes. I want to learn,” you say, trying to feel the music. There must be some instinctual or magical aspect to it, for when Maeve begins to pull you along, shuffling from side to side and spinning you around, you don’t even have to think much about what you are doing - the movements just come naturally. This is what you're meant to be doing right now, you're sure of it.
“You’re doing great,” she says with a joyful giggle. “Now you try doing something - whatever you want, whatever the music and your body tell you to do.”
Truly, you aren't certain what you are doing. Some part of you is moving like you're fighting, replacting footwork you learned in combat training, using it to shift your centre of gravity this way and that. Another part of you desperately trying to convey something, some kind of emotion, through your movements. Maeve is linked to your through your joined hands and you move as one as you express a part of yourself and watch it ripple through her.
Maeve's pitch black eyes are alight with fiery passion, bright like the night sky, as she responds to your moves with her own - a physical call and response between the two of you. At various points the music changes, different songs, not separated by silence but distinct in their feel. Neither of you leads, as Maeve said, and neither of you speaks a word. There is no need at all, the dance is communication in itself, in its purest, most tangible form. There's something that connects you, music or magic, maybe both. Maybe something else, too.
You spend a long time like this, losing yourself in the moment. Surely, hours must have passed - your body certainly feels like it. Heat rushing through you, sweat threatening to drip into your eyes, subtle tremors coursing through you from excitement and exhaustion.
Maeve seems to be in much the same condition, and the two of you slow down for a bit, pausing to catch your breaths. She looks beautiful like this, chest heaving, face flushed, hair framing her and catching the light in all the right ways.
“Who knew dancing could be this exhausting?” you say, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. “I was talking big about spending the entire night like this, but I doubt I can keep it up.”
“You have your regular duties tomorrow morning, don’t you? Shouldn’t they give you the day after this off too? Seems unfair to expect you to be up with the sun after a celebration as large as this one,” Maeve says with a scoff.
“It is what it is. I’m the Champion, I’m not supposed to be behaving irresponsibly in the first place. They trust that I know when it’s time to get some rest. That being said, maybe I should make sure to at least show myself at the marketplace before turning in for the night.”
“Don’t start getting careless on my behalf. If that’s what you should do to avoid drawing attention to yourself, then I am all for it. It has been a lot of fun so far, $playername, so let’s end this on a high note. One last dance before you go?” She bows low as she offers you her hand.
There’s no way you could possibly resist.
This final dance is a lot slower, more intimate, truly conveying the feeling of saying ‘farewell’, of the night coming to an end. Now that you don’t have to focus so much on keeping up with Maeve, you find yourself just looking at her, taking in every detail of her face and committing it to memory. She deserves it. The way she is smiling down at you, all soft and mushy, she’s doing much the same. It tightens something in your chest.
When this last dance ends, it is with reluctance that you part. Maeve makes it easy for you, running her hand along your arm before picking up the crystal and vanishing with a whispered “good night, and sleep well” that echoes through the gardens.
You wipe the sappy smile off your face as you head into the city, where people are dancing to much different music, drunk and sweaty masses of humans moving around each other, couples dancing to upbeat rhythms, and everyone laughing and talking over each other. It’s cacophonous and chaotic compared to the quiet intimacy of before.
It’s grating and too much. Your first instinct is to look for a place to sit down. Already you don’t care anymore about finding people you know. Already you are beginning to miss Maeve.
[[You’re glad you spent time with her instead of being here.|Chapter8CDance]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
<<set $Maeveflag to $Maeveflag + 1>>\
It's best to state your intentions clearly. You know that Maeve and you are used to different customs, different ways to express affection and interest in people, and you do not want to mislead her. This is simply meant to be an opportunity to spend time with her and strengthen your bond as friends and allies - anything else than that would be too much right now.
You're not certain how she'll react to your invitation, but you doubt she'd pass up on the chance, as rare as it is with you two being separated like this. At the very least you hope she will - it would sting a bit if she turned you down, that much you can admit.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. Human fashion won't mean much to Maeve, anyway, and it will just be the two of you in your own room - there won't be a crowd to impress. People will likely wonder where you are, but you can always say you weren't feeling well. Food poisoning isn't rare during festivities on hot summer days such as this one, after all.
Once you are finished getting ready, you awkwardly stand in the middle of your room as you call out to Maeve. It takes a few minutes before she shows up, but when she does, you're suprised that she has dressed up as well, and does not look at all surprised by the fact that you were calling for her. She's wearing a flowing, pale pink dress that matches her hair colour, its soft layers looking like the petals of a rose as they fan out from her hips.
She runs over to greet you as soon as she sees you. “$playername! I was hoping you’d want to see me tonight. I’m sure you must have plans, but ‘tis still nice of you to stop by.”
“Actually, my plan is to do more than just <i>stop by</i>. Maeve, how would you like it if we spent this evening together? We don’t often get the opportunity to deepen our friendship, after all.”
Her face immediately lights up. “I would love nothing more, $playername! I did consider the possibility that you would make this choice, so truth be told, I have come prepared.” She summons a small, light blue crystal out of seemingly nowhere, though you figure it must be from her grove. “There is music recorded on this, so we could dance, if you’d like.”
You take a good look at the crystal in her hand, but you can’t quite figure out how it’s supposed to work. The answer is obviously magic, but still, this kind of advanced technique could be used to record all kinds of conversation, music and sounds. The fact that you haven’t ever heard of it must mean it is either very difficult to pull off, or there is some kind of major drawback to it. As curious as you are, you supposed now isn’t the time to get into those kinds of details.
“Of course I’d like to dance with you, Maeve,” you say, looking up at her. “It would be a waste not to.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she says before placing the crystal gently on the ground. It tips over and immediately begins to glow. Soft, ephemeral music begins playing. It is odd not to be able to locate the sound, instead it feels like it is playing inside your head. Most of the instruments you recognise, but there are a few that sound like howling wind and strange, distant bells that you can’t identify at all. The melody is melancholic, almost haunting in its mixture of longing and futility. A chill runs down your spine and you can feel your head start spinning just from listening to it. It’s like you’re running a fever all of a sudden - you feel hot, dazed, and disoriented.
“Give it a minute, it’ll pass,” Maeve says, her face flushed. She must be experiencing something similar. “Side effects of the song magic,” she explains. “It’s usually used to hypnotise or otherwise charm someone, so even though I didn’t give it that effect, some of it is inherent to the magic. But it’ll wear off in just a second, I promise.”
You nod weakly at her, suddenly on edge when you consider how powerful this type of magic would be if she used it with proper intent. As it stands, the dizziness clears up quickly, though you are left feeling a bit warm and tingly. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, all things considered.
“Shall we?” Maeve asks as she gently offers you her hand.
“Are you going to lead?” you ask as you take it. Her fingers are long and delicate, but her skin is rough like tree bark and just as sturdy.
“We don’t have that concept,” she explains. “There are no steps to follow, either. We simply move with the music, and it will put our bodies naturally in sync. But if you’re unsure, I can guide you. Teach you.”
“Yes. I want to learn,” you say, trying to feel the music. There must be some instinctual or magical aspect to it, for when Maeve begins to pull you along, shuffling from side to side and spinning you around, you don’t even have to think much about what you are doing - the movements just come naturally.
“You’re doing great,” she says with a joyful giggle. “Now you try doing something - whatever you want, whatever the music and your body tell you to do.”
Truly, you aren't certain what you are doing. Some part of you is moving like you're fighting, replacting footwork you learned in combat training, using it to shift your centre of gravity this way and that. Another part of you desperately trying to convey something, some kind of emotion, through your movements. Maeve is linked to your through your joined hands and you move as one as you express a part of yourself and watch it ripple through her.
Maeve's pitch black eyes are alight with fiery passion, bright like the night sky, as she responds to your moves with her own - a physical call and response between the two of you. At various points the music changes, different songs, not separated by silence but distinct in their feel. Neither of you leads, as Maeve said, and neither of you speaks a word. There is no need at all, the dance is communication in itself, in its purest, most tangible form. There's something that connects you, music or magic, maybe both.
You spend a long time like this, losing yourself in the moment. Surely, hours must have passed - your body certainly feels like it. Heat rushing through you, sweat threatening to drip into your eyes, subtle tremors coursing through you from excitement and exhaustion.
Maeve seems to be in much the same condition, and the two of you slow down for a bit, pausing to catch your breaths.
“Who knew dancing could be this exhausting?” you say, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. “I was talking big about spending the entire night like this, but I doubt I can keep it up.”
“You have your regular duties tomorrow morning, don’t you? Shouldn’t they give you the day after this off too? Seems unfair to expect you to be up with the sun after a celebration as large as this one,” Maeve says with a scoff.
“It is what it is. I’m the Champion, I’m not supposed to be behaving irresponsibly in the first place. They trust that I know when it’s time to get some rest. That being said, maybe I should make sure to at least show myself at the marketplace before turning in for the night.”
“Don’t start getting careless on my behalf. If that’s what you should do to avoid drawing attention to yourself, then I am all for it. It has been a lot of fun so far, $playername, so let’s end this on a high note. One last dance before you go?” She bows low as she offers you her hand.
There’s no way you could possibly resist.
This final dance is a lot slower, truly conveying the feeling of saying ‘farewell’, of the night coming to an end. Now that you don’t have to focus so much on keeping up with Maeve, you find yourself just looking at her, taking in every detail of her face and committing it to memory. She deserves it. The way she is smiling down at you, all soft and mushy, she’s doing much the same.
When this last dance ends, it is with reluctance that you part. Maeve makes it easy for you, patting your shoulder before picking up the crystal and vanishing with a whispered “good night, and sleep well” that echoes through your room.
You wipe the sappy smile off your face as you head into the city, where people are dancing to much different music, drunk and sweaty masses of humans moving around each other, couples dancing to upbeat rhythms, and everyone laughing and talking over each other. It’s cacophonous and chaotic compared to the quiet intimacy of your room in the castle.
It’s grating and too much. Your first instinct is to look for a place to sit down. Already you don’t care anymore about finding people you know.
[[You’re glad you spent time with Maeve instead of being here.|Chapter8BDance]]<<set $Maeve to $Maeve + 10>>\
<<set $Maeveflag to $Maeveflag + 1>>\
There is no need to define your relationship with Maeve. She is interesting, you enjoy spending time with her, and you want to grow closer to her - that's all that really matters. If she wants to read into that or make a move, it's certainly not going to bother you. You plan to keep an open mind and just see where this night takes you.
You're not certain how she'll react to your invitation, but you doubt she'd pass up on the chance, as rare as it is with you two being separated like this. At the very least you hope she will - it would sting a bit if she turned you down, that much you can admit.
You take care to dress nicely, but not too extravagantly. Human fashion won't mean much to Maeve, anyway, and it will just be the two of you in your own room - there won't be a crowd to impress. People will likely wonder where you are, but you can always say you weren't feeling well. Food poisoning isn't rare during festivities on hot summer days such as this one, after all.
Once you are finished getting ready, you awkwardly stand in the middle of your room as you call out to Maeve. It takes a few minutes before she shows up, but when she does, you're suprised that she has dressed up as well, and does not look at all surprised by the fact that you were calling for her. She's wearing a flowing, pale pink dress that matches her hair colour, its soft layers looking like the petals of a rose as they fan out from her hips. She looks stunning to the point that you have a hard time taking your eyes off of her.
She runs over to greet you as soon as she sees you. “$playername! I was hoping you’d want to see me tonight. I’m sure you must have plans, but ‘tis still nice of you to stop by.”
“Actually, my plan is to do more than just <i>stop by</i>. Maeve, how would you like it if we spent this evening together? We don’t often get the opportunity to do so, after all.” You gesture at the empty gardens around you and tilt your head in expectation.
Her face immediately lights up. “I would love nothing more, $playername! I did consider the possibility that you would make this choice, so truth be told, I have come prepared.” She summons a small, light blue crystal out of seemingly nowhere, though you figure it must be from her grove. “There is music recorded on this, so we could dance, if you’d like.” Her grin is sharp - she's challenging you to refuse.
You take a good look at the crystal in her hand, but you can’t quite figure out how it’s supposed to work. The answer is obviously magic, but still, this kind of advanced technique could be used to record all kinds of conversation, music and sounds. The fact that you haven’t ever heard of it must mean it is either very difficult to pull off, or there is some kind of major drawback to it. As curious as you are, you supposed now isn’t the time to get into those kinds of details.
“Of course I’d like to dance with you, Maeve,” you say, looking up at her. “It would be a waste not to.”
Her grin softens into a satisfied smile.
“My thoughts exactly,” she says before placing the crystal gently on the ground. It tips over and immediately begins to glow. Soft, ephemeral music begins playing. It is odd not to be able to locate the sound, instead it feels like it is playing inside your head. Most of the instruments you recognise, but there are a few that sound like howling wind and strange, distant bells that you can’t identify at all. The melody is melancholic, almost haunting in its mixture of longing and futility. A chill runs down your spine and you can feel your head start spinning just from listening to it. It’s like you’re running a fever all of a sudden - you feel hot, dazed, and disoriented.
“Give it a minute, it’ll pass,” Maeve says, her face flushed in a way that makes your breath hitch when you see it. She must be experiencing something similar. “Side effects of the song magic,” she explains. “It’s usually used to hypnotise or otherwise charm someone, so even though I didn’t give it that effect, some of it is inherent to the magic. But it’ll wear off in just a second, I promise.”
You nod weakly at her, suddenly on edge when you consider how powerful this type of magic would be if she used it with proper intent. As it stands, the dizziness clears up quickly, though you are left feeling a bit warm and tingly. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, all things considered. There's something... <i>exquisite</i> about it all.
“Shall we?” Maeve asks as she gently offers you her hand, an intensity in her gaze that locks you in place.
“Are you going to lead?” you ask as you take it. Her fingers are long and delicate, but her skin is rough like tree bark and just as sturdy. Firm and grounding.
“We don’t have that concept,” she explains. “There are no steps to follow, either. We simply move with the music, and it will put our bodies naturally in sync. But if you’re unsure, I can guide you. Teach you.”
“Yes. I want to learn,” you say, trying to feel the music. There must be some instinctual or magical aspect to it, for when Maeve begins to pull you along, shuffling from side to side and spinning you around, you don’t even have to think much about what you are doing - the movements just come naturally. This is what you're meant to be doing right now, you're sure of it.
“You’re doing great,” she says with a joyful giggle. “Now you try doing something - whatever you want, whatever the music and your body tell you to do.”
Truly, you aren't certain what you are doing. Some part of you is moving like you're fighting, replacting footwork you learned in combat training, using it to shift your centre of gravity this way and that. Another part of you desperately trying to convey something, some kind of emotion, through your movements. Maeve is linked to your through your joined hands and you move as one as you express a part of yourself and watch it ripple through her.
Maeve's pitch black eyes are alight with fiery passion, bright like the night sky, as she responds to yous moves with her own - a physical call and response between the two of you. At various points the music changes, different songs, not separated by silence but distinct in their feel. Neither of you leads, as Maeve said, and neither of you speaks a word. There is no need at all, the dance is communication in itself, in its purest, most tangible form. There's something that connects you, music or magic, maybe both. Maybe something else, too.
You spend a long time like this, losing yourself in the moment. Surely, hours must have passed - your body certainly feels like it. Heat rushing through you, sweat threatening to drip into your eyes, subtle tremors coursing through you from excitement and exhaustion.
Maeve seems to be in much the same condition, and the two of you slow down for a bit, pausing to catch your breaths. She looks beautiful like this, chest heaving, face flushed, hair framing her and catching the light in all the right ways.
“Who knew dancing could be this exhausting?” you say, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. “I was talking big about spending the entire night like this, but I doubt I can keep it up.”
“You have your regular duties tomorrow morning, don’t you? Shouldn’t they give you the day after this off too? Seems unfair to expect you to be up with the sun after a celebration as large as this one,” Maeve says with a scoff.
“It is what it is. I’m the Champion, I’m not supposed to be behaving irresponsibly in the first place. They trust that I know when it’s time to get some rest. That being said, maybe I should make sure to at least show myself at the marketplace before turning in for the night.”
“Don’t start getting careless on my behalf. If that’s what you should do to avoid drawing attention to yourself, then I am all for it. It has been a lot of fun so far, $playername, so let’s end this on a high note. One last dance before you go?” She bows low as she offers you her hand.
There’s no way you could possibly resist.
This final dance is a lot slower, more intimate, truly conveying the feeling of saying ‘farewell’, of the night coming to an end. Now that you don’t have to focus so much on keeping up with Maeve, you find yourself just looking at her, taking in every detail of her face and committing it to memory. She deserves it. The way she is smiling down at you, all soft and mushy, she’s doing much the same. It tightens something in your chest.
When this last dance ends, it is with reluctance that you part. Maeve makes it easy for you, running her hand along your arm before picking up the crystal and vanishing with a whispered “good night, and sleep well” that echoes through your empty room.
You wipe the sappy smile off your face as you head into the city, where people are dancing to much different music, drunk and sweaty masses of humans moving around each other, couples dancing to upbeat rhythms, and everyone laughing and talking over each other. It’s cacophonous and chaotic compared to the quiet intimacy of your room in the castle.
It’s grating and too much. Your first instinct is to look for a place to sit down. Already you don’t care anymore about finding people you know. Already you are beginning to miss Maeve.
[[You’re glad you spent time with her instead of being here.|Chapter8BDance]]The crowd roars around you like a thunderstorm – chanting, clapping, shouting, an indistinct mass of noise. Maybe it’s a good thing that you can’t make out who they’re cheering for. You cannot afford any distractions.
Prince Az’Lean has barely taken a few steps in your direction and Vynn already begins launching arrows at him, one after the other. You take a moment to study his movements, looking for any type of apparent weakness or quirks. Despite his armour, the prince is sprinting at you at high speed, dodging most of Vynn’s arrows by moving in a serpentine pattern. The few he isn’t able to dodge, he swipes aside with his sword or blocks with his massive gauntlet.
“Incredible reflexes,” you hear Vynn mutter, frustration in their voice as Prince Az’Lean closes in on you.
Before he can get too close, you swiftly move in front of Vynn, ready to intercept him in order to buy Vynn some time to switch weapons. Prince Az’Lean is upon on you before you know it, his blond hair whipping in the wind, his face a stony mask of indifference. Only his eyes betray the fire of battle burning within.
He comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes tracking every miniscule movement you make, and raises his sword for a strike.
<<if $element == "fire">> You lift your own rapier in order to parry his strike, but realise belatedly that he is going for a feint. As you curse yourself for leaving an opening like that, Prince Az’Lean’s clawed, black gauntlet smashes into your side with full force. Your entire body tenses due to the impact, leaving you stunned for a second. The prince uses this opportunity to forcefully shove you aside. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "water">> You raise your spear to deflect his strike but realise belatedly that he is going for a feint. As you curse yourself for leaving an opening like that, Prince Az’Lean’s clawed, black gauntlet smashes into your side with full force. Your entire body tenses due to the impact, leaving you stunned for a second. The prince uses this opportunity to forcefully shove you aside. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "earth">> You raise your shield to block his strike but realise belatedly that he is going for a feint. As you curse yourself for leaving an opening like that, Prince Az’Lean’s clawed, black gauntlet smashes into your side with full force. Your entire body tenses due to the impact, leaving you stunned for a second. The prince uses this opportunity to forcefully shove you aside. <<endif>>\
<<if $element == "air">> You lift twin daggers in order to parry his strike but realise belatedly that he is going for a feint. As you curse yourself for leaving an opening like that, Prince Az’Lean’s clawed, black gauntlet smashes into your side with full force. Your entire body tenses due to the impact, leaving you stunned for a second. The prince uses this opportunity to forcefully shove you aside. <<endif>>\
You stumble and fall onto your side, the air being forced out of your lungs. Bracing yourself for the worst, you tightly cling to your weapon and lift your gaze to your opponent. However, Prince Az’Lean isn’t paying you any attention as he simply steps around you, sword raised and pointed towards Vynn. Shouldn’t he have used this chance to keep attacking you? Being ignored like this leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
Vynn meets the prince head on, their sword in their right hand and an orb of water hovering above their left. Before they even get the chance to use it, however, a flick from the prince’s wrist turns the orb of water into countless shards of ice, all aligning themselves horizontally and pointing dangerously in the direction of Vynn’s face.
A curse flies from their lips as they try to get the water back under the control of their own magic, but the prince isn’t standing idly by. As you get back on your feet, the two of them begin crossing swords, both Vynn and Prince Az’Lean unable to keep their magic under control. It eventually turns into lifeless pools of water under their feet, slowly turning the dirt into slippery mud.
The crashing of steel joins in with the audience’s roaring cheers. You consider your approach and how to best get into the fight without tripping Vynn up. They haven’t once looked at you for help, entirely focused on holding their own against the prince. In all honesty, you have never seen them this furiously serious during a fight before.
You ready your weapon and step towards them, looking for an opening to catch the prince off guard. Trying to disrupt his footing would be best, but you find yourself hesitating. Why did he go for Vynn instead of you after he’d already knocked you down? There must be some kind of reasoning behind his actions.
This is a battle royale, so really anything goes, but it is also still a test designed to find the new Champion. Maybe it’s something you should take into consideration. In any case, you can't afford to act recklessly. This is too important.
You wrack your brain, trying to decide on the right course of action. What is it that Prince Az'Lean expects from his Champion? What does he want to see from you?
Someone who is strong enough to beat him, or someone who is strong enough to protect him?
[[Team up with Vynn to defeat the prince.|Chapter2.8A]]
[[Protect Az'Lean from Vynn's attacks.|Chapter2.8B]]