Private Tales The Failure of Nobility

[Edric]

Edric found his place at the table opposite Kristen, placing the dish in front of him. He smelled it one more time, then slowly began to have at it.

The meal truly was a delicious one, almost as good as the Paella he'd had with Noel back in Cortos. The spices mixed well together, and the meat was tender enough that it practically melted in his mouth. A slow smile touched his face. "It's delicious."

He assured Kristen with a smile.

"Perhaps something you can look into more when we graduate." Edric told her. In theory, once that happened they would all be free to do...whatever. Though he wasn't entirely sure how that would work with Kristen.

She was still the daughter of a Pirian after all, and that might come with more responsibility.

When she asked after his hobbies Edric frowned. "No."

Days ago that would have been the end of the conversation. He would have simply said the single syllable, and then walked away. Yet before she could nag more, Edric volunteered the information.

"I've spent my time at the Academy training, doing everything I could to be the best." A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "Nothing has seemed as important."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

They sat down at one of the mess's tables, Kristen setting her own plate of sliced beef down upon it. Made for dwarves as it was, her knees were poking up rather high as she sat, the peaks of them just below her chest.

It's delicious.

"Why, thank you!" she said, most careful about waiting to speak until she had chewed and swallowed. "Gren was a marvelous teacher, and I must mention such so he thusly receives his due portion of the credit."

She nodded vigorously to Edric's suggestion. In one way it seemed incredibly strange, to go from something so harrowing as the Academy, which was to say in no uncertain terms preparation for war, to something so common as cooking. Yet it was a silly notion. A Dreadlord's days could not all be spent dedicating every waking minute on training and practice and refinement of one's magic...could they? Surely, they still had to live, and the routine maintenance of life was of course the very definition of ordinary.

Which...was funny. Because in the next moment after having thought this, Edric went on to more or less demolish the notion, at least with regard to his own specific case.

"I understand."

Defying even herself, the words came out. And she knew that they were true. Yes, she wanted to pursue the culinary discipline. She wanted to further her equestrian skills, she wanted to write her own book (on Celestialism, or dwarven inventions, or studies of the Portal Stones) in her own practiced calligraphy, she even entertained the thought of embracing the Republic in the fullest by running for political office. She wanted to do these things and many more.

But there was something that she wanted to do more. A fire had been lit in her when she was nine years old, and while it had smoldered as an ember after her rescue from the Blades, it had ignited anew since her enrollment to the Academy. Beneath the nervousness, the fear, it was there. And growing hotter.

If, like Edric, she needed to sacrifice something, or sacrifice many things, to see that fire flourish, she knew deep down that she would.

She took another bite of her meat. Around them, the dwarves were all having a wonderful time. Belching, the clink of tankards, laughter from the recounting of old follies made funny by the passage of time. They were in their world, and Edric and Kristen were in theirs.

"And when you become the best?" she said, eyes searching him with all the inspired scrutiny of an engaged student peering up at a teacher who seemed to possess infinite answers. "How will that make you feel? And what will you do then?"

Edric

 

[Edric]

For a long moment Edric didn't say anything. He stared into the bowl in front of him, slowly circling some of the meat as he considered. "I don't know."

Why did he feel like he was saying that too much?

There was so much that he had thought was assured. So much that he had thought was already in place, yet the last year of his life had torn those assurances aside piece by piece. A frown pulled at his lips, and he slowly shook his head.

"I didn't want to become the best..." He paused a moment, as if to consider something. "It wasn't an achievement."

Edric said slowly.

He wasn't Noel. He hadn't wanted to become an Archon, he hadn't wanted to reach the lofty heights of power for the acclaim. "I did it so I could run."

The Initiate said quietly. "So when they came after me, I could kill whoever they sent."

That was why he had trained. That was why he had practiced and fought. Ever since that day with the Sirl Dreadlord. Ever since that conversation they'd had. He'd known that was what he had to do.

"Then the Revolution came and...they just gave it to me." Freedom. "Now?"

He shrugged. "Now I don't know what to do."

It was the third time he'd had this conversation. Noel had told him not to throw away his gifts, to become the man she knew he could be. Ral had told him to be more. To step out of the form of a murderer.

What would Kristen offer?

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"You're pathetic."

Before her better judgment could assert itself, before calmer and more rational thoughts could intercede, the words had come spilling out. Right out of the disdainful sneer her lips had curled into somewhere between when he said I did it so I could run and when he finished with Now I don't know what to do.

All at once, Kristen couldn't believe she had looked up to him. Idolized him. Wanted to be more like him. This was it, then. This was Edric with the mask pulled off. A sniveling wretch beneath that mass of muscle, behind that curtain of formidable magic. She had expected anything else, anything else, to be his answer. Hoping, perhaps, for his answer to match the ideal of him she had in her mind as closely as possible. The answer she got made her feel like a fool. A complete and utter fool for believing in someone who turned out to be little more than a fraud with a brutal bravado concealing a yellow streak of cowardice.

The livid, hurtful thoughts pounded within her skull, enough to make her head ache from their relentless rhythm.

There was an obscure awareness as well, perhaps the most potent fuel for this fire, that she felt this way of Edric because she also felt this way of herself. This was how everyone must have seen her in Vel Acan. This was how even Edric, however degraded her opinion was of him in this moment, must have seen her out in the wheat field. This was how the entire Academy, Initiates and Proctors alike, must look upon stupid little Kristen Pirian, spoiled Darling Daughter, who would surely wet her bed with fright from the most mild of nightmares and who would surely shrivel away to nothing before any real threat in the waking world. Run, Kristen Pirian! Do what you do best! Run away and hide from your fears back in the gilded halls of your family's lavish home and pray to Aionus that Duresh does not return to steal you away again!

All of this, her two little words, the firestorm of emotion, was all terribly spur of the moment, reckless and foolish. Yet it all burned brightly regardless.

The miracle occurred when she had the wherewithal to keep her mouth shut and say no more of it in this impulsive moment. Kristen shoved her plate to the side, fork clattering, and stood from the table, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling, and curtly left the ship's mess. About half of the dwarves noticed, sparing fleeting glances toward that commotion, before figuring their human guests had had a disagreement not so dissimilar from how the Arragoth might've had one--but nothing smoothed over a few punches like a shared tankard of ale to make amends though, eh? They went back to their business.

Kristen, in a huff, was storming down the hall and up onto the deck, where she would walk until she reached the prow and her hands would clench hard to the railings.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric stared at Kristen.

Perhaps he should have felt rage. Perhaps he should have leaped across the table and finished the job he had started in that wheat filled, but all he felt was a strange sort of hollowness. He didn't know why, couldn't have said in that moment.

But maybe...maybe because he felt that she was right.

A part of him did feel pathetic.

He was one of the strongest Initiates at the Academy. He had died dozens of times and stepped back out of the abyss. Hundreds had died at the hands of his magic, dozens by his own palms. He'd killed, slaughtered, and cut throats at the whims of men and women whom he could have crushed five years ago.

Those were all facts, all realities, and instead of embracing that. Instead of seizing who he could be and what he could become...he wallowed in misery. He complained and ached at the thought of not knowing, not understanding what he should do.

Purposeless.

A gaunt and hollow thing that wasted the potential which had been built inside of him.

He knew that it was true. He knew that Kristen was right. So he stared at her, didn't move as she threw her meal to the side and stalked out of the galley. His eyes set where she had once been, quietly contemplating as the fork once again passed his lips.

It really was a good meal.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

One dwarf, finished with his plate and with a mind for mirth, nudged Edric's shoulder as he was walking by to the counter. He smiled beneath his great beard and said, "Lass didn't even like her own food, eh? Wasn't that bad."

The dwarf chuckled, then went to the counter and handed his empty plate to Gren, departing the galley.

* * * * *​

The cold wind from the sea and the night did much to cool down the heat of Kristen's fury.

But it was not smothered completely. Practical thoughts, at least, were able to state their case among her many lamentations. She didn't want to endanger the crew of the Kammerund Stoutguard by prodding Edric until he, like the story of his prior visit to Sene went with the Inquisitors, killed them all. A bitter, spiteful thought melded with this practical one, producing this: maybe Edric should run away and hide himself away in some remote, godsforsaken part of the world, lest his unstable temper and volatile magic butcher scores more and further cement his self-spoken and self-loathing status as a murderer.

There was so much she wanted to say, and she knew that none of it was productive. She knew that all of it, bottled up in her mind as it was, would keep her for many an hour from sleep. If could find sleep at all.

She knew that she would be cold to Edric. As cold as he originally was to her. And she marveled at how they had completely switched sides at this particular table. Or, if not that, that she had joined him over in the frigid half. And, tragically, it was seemingly all because of some cosmic mistake which had happened: that Kristen would have what Edric wanted, and Edric what she wanted. As if they had each been born into the wrong circumstances.

A life free of the Academy, and all that came with it.

A life with the Academy, and all that came with it.

They were, in a metaphor appropriate to the present, like two ships passing one another, each feverishly sailing for salvation toward where the other had come.

Kristen held onto the railing at the prow of the dwarven vessel. Above, the flapping as the sails caught the whimsical winds as they shifted about in their slight degrees. Below, the low roar of the water being parted by the ship, the splashing and foaming of it along the sides.

She knew that she ought to head to her bunk. That what rationality she had gained out here on the lonely prow might crumble away to flaring emotion if she saw him again tonight. Even if, distantly, she now maintained the awareness that her two little words may have hurt him more than he did her out in the wheat field.

Still she stayed on the prow. Looking out into the open sea.

Captured by the powerful feeling that she was returning to the Academy because she truly wanted to.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric didn't try to approach Kristen for days.

There was no point. She could despise him, hate him, think the worst of him and...well, it would have been wrong to say he didn't care. Yet her opinion of him didn't matter in the end. She wasn't the type to slip a knife through his ribs, at least he didn't think so, nor would her telling of his original plan have any effect on his future.

Not now.

But a part of him, a very small part, couldn't help but feel a flicker of...shame.

He knew that in Kristen's mind he had been the pinnacle of a Dreadlord. A depiction of what an Apprentice likely should have been. In her mind the Academy had forged him into a soldier, a warrior to protect Vel Anir, and he had planned to take those lessons and simply leave them behind.

The thought brought a pang of guilt to his chest, and he couldn't help but remember that conversation he'd had with the Sirl Dreadlord. Couldn't help but remember what she had said to him.

Did he want his power to go to waste?

It was that which plagued his mind on the third day of their travel, when the open ocean surrounded them and one of the dwarves directed Edric to draw the sail full. A shout went up as he began to tug on the rope, a voice bellowing out from the crows nest.

"SHIP! SHIP ON THE HORIZON!"​

The dwarf called out, Edric's hands stalling on the rope for a moment.

"SHE'S...SHE'S CLOSING FAST CAPTAIN!"​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Tiny bandages were wrapped around Kristen's fingers.

While the original deal had both her and Edric assisting with the sails, Kristen had taken to something of a apprenticeship under Gren. He was certainly mighty happy, having her assist in his duties and thus freeing him up to flex his personable personality with his mates around the ship. Aside from work in the galley, Kristen also tended to the few dwarves who had all come down with "the sweats," doing what she could to help them be as comfortable as possible whilst their bodies fought one of the rare illnesses Arragoth were capable of getting. Other miscellaneous things she helped with--like repairing a trawl net! She had quite the steady hand for that, it turned out, even with the rocking of the sea. Still, her primary tasks lay in the galley, and of those the old staple of the seafaring diet, potatoes, needed to be peeled.

Hence all of the bandages.

Still, she was rather glad that Gren and the crew had allowed for her this niche. It kept her away from Edric. She didn't even need to speak to him on a perfunctory level. And this was for the best. The flashfire of anger had cooled, as it always does in time, and even the smoldering embers had lost their glow. But the tiny potential of volatility remained, ready to ignite suddenly that flashfire again with a look or comment received poorly, and it would remain until a greater portion of time had passed. Until she finally accepted the fact that Edric was not who she had thought him to be.

SHIP ON THE HORIZON!

Kristen heard the call (repeated in a chain by the crew until it traveled within earshot of her) while she was below decks, tipping a bowl of water for one of the bedridden dwarves to drink from. The sick dwarf, one of the Marines, just gave her a rueful smirk which suggested he cursed his luck for missing this. "Ya oughta go see what those stone-skulled louts are on about, lass."

Kristen emerged into the sun up on deck, squinting, brushing back her flapping bangs from her face and shading her eyes with that same hand to look out over the prow. The Marines of the Kammerund seemed almost giddy, readying their repeating crossbows as they assumed their (potentially battle) stations.

Aionus would frown upon her for taking so seriously the words of a stray Oracle in the desert, and yet...again the warning of Sibyl crossed her mind.

...For on your journey home you will find nothing but death.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric made his way towards the stern of the ship, the sail having been tied off as the Captain began to issue orders to his men.

The Kammerund was not an especially large ship, with only a crew of a hundred. Yet each man on board was ready to right, and that included both of the Dreadlord Initiates. Edric glanced over towards Kristen as she stepped onto the deck, saying nothing as he passed her by and climbed onto the quarterdeck.

"Ain't nuthin like I ever seen before."​

It was the Captain who made the remark, a spyglass falling away from his eye as he frowned. In the distance Edric could just barely make out the shape of a ship, though at this distance it was difficult to make out even that.

"You were headed to Vel Luin, right, lad? You might know something more."​

"I don't know much about ships Cap-" Before he could finish his sentence the spyglass was shoved into his hands.

Edric let out a quiet sigh, and placed the telescope to his eye. He swept it towards the shape of the ship, and immediately understood why the dwarves were so confused. The ship itself had the profile of almost any other vessel, but instead of being made of wood...it seemed it's entire body was made of steel. Three great smokestacks erupted from it's deck, and fluttering from the first most were two great banners.

The first he recognized unequivocally. It was the flag of Vel Anir, or at least a version of it. The Second? There was a sense of familiarity to it, but he could not pull it from the back of his mind. "Kristen!"

It was the first word he had said to her in days. There was no doubt in his mind that she would know better than him.

"Take a look at this." He asked, offering her the spyglass.

As soon as she raised it to her eye, the second that she caught sight of that banner she would recognize it of course; The Symbol of the Great House Virak.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen, baffled and enraptured by the far-off sight of the ship (what were those black columns? not sails, for sure), flinched when she heard Edric shout her name. One small and fledgling part of her mind, perhaps the part that Noel or Zael or Kalix might well approve of, had steeled itself for combat against him, as if the days spent apart on the Kammerund had all been building up silently to a confrontational battle between the two of them. A foolish notion, but thankfully fleeting.

Kristen hustled up to the quarterdeck and joined Edric and the dwarven captain. He offered her the spyglass, and, under any other circumstances, she might have squealed with glee at the sight and opportunity to use the dwarven-made tool. Warily she eyed Edric for a second, as if it might be some kind of duplicitous trick.

Then she raised the spyglass and looked through it at the oncoming ship.

And it was nothing...nothing...like she had ever seen before. Nothing she had ever heard of before. It belched smoke as if it were on fire but she could see no flames. It had no sails yet it seemed to be coming quickly in their direction. What manner of strange thing was this? Was it magic? It was not wholly alien, this idea: the Battle of the Blades, she recalled, featured small skiffs powered by wind magic to speed rapidly to the beach. Could fire magic be in use aboard that great beast of iron? Still, it boggled the mind as to how that might work to propel the vessel forward.

There was one thing that she knew for certain, however.

Kristen lowered the spyglass.

And said in a small, near breathless tone, "It carries the banner of the Great House of Virak."

Awed and intimidated at the sight of the strange ship still, it did not immediately come to Kristen's mind that this ought to be naught but a good thing--salvation encased in titanic iron--for Virak, Weiroon, and indeed, Pirian had all been loosely aligned in the oligarchy of old. Aboard that ship had to be someone, noble or sworn to, who would recognize her by sight, before she might even have the chance to utter her name.

Edric

 

[Edric]

"Virak?!"​

"Virak?" The Captain and Edric had two entirely different tones as they repeated the family name. One sounded cursed, and the other nearly relieved.

The Initiate had thought that it would be Pirates, the Empire, another fucking speed bump thrown into their journey home. Yet here were the servants of a Great House, Anirians. People who could take them home, a ship that actually belonged to friends.

Their journey on the Kammerund hadn't been bad, but this could cut out the middle-man all together.

Confusion flickered over his features as the Dwarf let out a quiet curse. "Captain?"

"Those fuckers are sticklers."
​

Edric looked to Kristen as though he were missing something. The greater politics of Vel Anir still escaped him. The games they played and all the little threads that hung between the old oligarchy. It was not something he'd ever much cared about.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"House Virak don't much like us lad. Look for the smallest excuse to say you're breaking Anirian Law. Excuses to seize your cargo or get up your ass."​

A long sigh escaped the man as he relented to what in his mind was the inevitable.

"DORI! Pull the sails and signal that we'll prepare to be boarded. Fuckers will sink us before they stop the chase."​

Edric watched as the man stalked off, cursing about the whims of ate and the 'fucking Anirians' as he headed down towards then deck. The Initiate lingered a moment, looking to his companion. "This is a good thing, right?"

He didn't know much about House Politics, but he'd heard of Virak enough. They supported the Guard, Dreadlords. Their methods to outsiders were not...kind, but with him and Kristen here it should help. At least Edric thought so.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

There was something about an impending situation, loaded with uncertainty, that temporarily detained whatever troubles of the past, hauling them down to some dungeon in favor of the immediate present and the concerns thereof.

Kristen stared out toward the oncoming Ironclad as she talked. "It can only be a good thing, at least for us. Even for the dwarves if you consider this: House Virak may be belligerent, but they cannot be overly so. Destroying this vessel would be tantamount to an act of war with Belgrath. Even if by some miracle the Republic managed to talk down the dwarves, the shrewder Representatives would not miss this opportunity to devastate House Virak with innumerable penalties and legal actions, perhaps even seizure of that vessel itself, and it would be difficult to argue that they do not deserve it for bringing all Vel Anir to the brink of unsanctioned war. The most House Virak can do is what the Captain is already anticipating: citing some law or maritime authority, fabricated or not, in an attempt to seize cargo or at the very least send an unwelcoming message."

Kristen's chest heaved and she let out a sharp exhale.

"Once I identify myself, the Virak-sworn crew shall have no choice but to take me in. House Pirian and House Virak have maintained good relations with one another. Along with House Weiroon, the three made up an ad hoc opposition to the other four and their alliance. The Revolution has not broken these centuries-old ties, for marriages and lineages bond the Houses together in intricate webs. The crew of that ship would not dare incur the wrath of their Lords and Ladies by allowing harm to come to me."

She seemed to realize something. And her eyes slid over to look sidelong at her peer. Her fellow Initiate. A tiny, subtle shimmer of horror in them, as if in that realization came the manifestation of a weight upon her shoulders--a decision to be made.

"And if I demand it, to you either, Edric."

Only if I demand it.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric stood there for a few moments, seemingly frozen.

He played over everything Kristen said in his mind, everything, letting the words roam around in his skull. He well understood the implication of what she was saying, knew what she meant and the slither of bile that had been injected in her tone.

It seemed for a second as though he would stay silent, and then he looked to Kristen. "Then I guess we'll see what you demand."

He had survived torture. He had survived death a dozen times over. What was the worst that could happen now? Whatever House Virak in store, whatever sat on that ship, it didn't matter. It couldn't be worse than the life he had already experienced.

Without another word Edric stepped away, following the Captain so that he could help with whatever preparations needed doing.

The massive Ironclad continued to creep forward, cutting through the waters like a mountain. As it closed on the Kammerund the ship seemed to only grow bigger and bigger, it's massive size coming into proportion besides the small dwarven Frigate.

"Kress, that ship is a fucking monster."​

It was one of the dwarves that spoke, his words almost a whisper as the Anirian Vessel pulled up alongside the Kammerund. The Ironclad dwarfed their own ship, and Edric couldn't help but peer up as the shriek of shifting metal echoed out.

A gangplank fell down onto the edge of the Dwarven deck, a door falling open on the side of the Ironclad. A cadre of soldiers descended onto the Dwarven ship, adorned in armor that would have made most Guardsmen green with envy. They swept out from the gangplank, followed by a man whose features made Edric look soft.

His gaze swept over deck, catching sight of Edric and Kristen. A mild flicker of surprise colored his features as he spoke.

"Whose in charge of this ship?"​

He demanded.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen swallowed. Alone she stood on the quarterdeck.

Surely...such a choice would not come to pass. Surely, she had been foolish, overthinking the matter and assuming malice where they had no reason to expect any. House Virak surely would not think to do something untoward with regard to Edric? What possible motive could they have for it? They stood only to gain by escorting a wayward Initiate back to the Academy. Even the darkest thought she had, House Virak detaining Edric and attempting to forcibly convert him to their service, made no sense. They could never get away with such a thing.

So surely the decision of whether or not to demand asylum for Edric was but a fanciful notion of a mind telling itself gravely interesting tales.

As the Ironclad crept closer, swelling to its full size as the distance closed, whatever reassurance she'd convinced herself of dwindled before the massive monster of metal with its awful volcanic smoke blackening the skies in its wake.

Marines lined the deck facing the Ironclad, their crossbows lowered, faces begrudgingly peaceful. Kristen stood with Edric and the Captain as the gangplank fell and crashed onto the Kammerund. In her bones she felt the shuddering vibration of the impact, and this mixed terribly with her heart and its painful rhythm. The Virak soldiers descended down the slope, boots clanking on the metal of the gangplank. She caught the look of mild surprise from the leader.

The Arragoth Captain had made a motion to speak, but Kristen, summoning a courage fueled by the anger she'd felt days prior (for it was the only fuel potent enough to overcome her nervousness), stepped forward and up to the leader himself and said with a near uncharacteristic steady composure, "Your business aboard this vessel shall by necessity endure a small delay. I am Kristen Lucretia Pirian, daughter of Lord Neil Taeris Pirian and Lady Josephine Juliet Pirian, Initiate of the Dreadlord Academy. Matters of the Academy have seen myself and a fellow Initiate," she gestured back to Edric but did not take her eyes of the leader, "out west, whereupon we encountered a misfortune. It is our duty now to return at once to the Academy."

Her heart thundered away in her chest, but she kept her cool, that little orange flicker of anger granting her a power she never would have even thought she possessed.

"I call upon your sworn oaths to House Virak and invoke the ties between your Lords and mine own. You shall take us aboard this vessel, and then grant us passage to the port of Vel Luin."

Edric

 

[Edric]

The man who had stalked upon the ship seemed entirely taken aback by Kristen's advance. Features that had been colored by surprise were now a mask of confusion and bewilderment as the Noble made her demands of him.

He stared down at Kristen, glanced at Edric, then looked to The Dwarven Captain.

"I...err..."​

It was almost as though he were entirely lost for words. Kristen's demand utterly overwhelming him. His head shook and he looked to some of the other soldiers who seemed frozen in place. A moment passed, and he cleared his throat.

"You will have to speak of such matters to Lady Lorel, Madam."​

He sounded stoic, but careful, respectful.

"I cannot speak to the direction of our ship, but Lady Lorel will be most pleased to hear of your presence Lady Pirian."​

The guard offered a short bow, though it seemed almost an afterthought as he looked to Edric and the dwarves once more. There was a brief confusion, but he seemed almost paranoid at this point. As though one misstep might send him off a cliff.

"Please come with me, we will assure your...friends make are properly seen to."​

Edric stood just a few feet away.

His lips thinned, and fingers tightened as he almost began to interject. He knew that this wasn't his place. That any word would have just fallen short. He simply didn't understand enough about what was going on, who was in charge or what law was to be followed.

It made him want to scream.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Lady Lorel.

Of House Lorel. Minor House affiliated with the Great House of Virak.

Which was, most notably, Liliana's House. Only on a sparing few occasions before had Kristen had the chance to speak with Liliana. And though the total amount of words passed between them was scant indeed, it was enough to know that Liliana...huh, how queer. She couldn't seem to remember what she thought of Liliana. Hmm. Others doted upon her, while another portion seemed indifferent, so far as Kristen could tell.

Regardless, such considerations were neither here nor there. Liliana would not be aboard this ship. It would be an elder sister, an aunt, mayhap her mother, and whomever it was would be how they would be. While somewhat dismaying that, after her success with the leader of the Virak boarding party (which left her with a quiet and wonderful astonishment!), she would have to continue negotiations instead of having the business be done with right then and there, Kristen was ready. She had to be. She had invoked her House's name in an authoritative manner the likes of which had not ever danced upon her tongue before, and she'd but to keep that fire and follow through. This, and she could be back at the Academy.

(and see their faces)

"Your prompt courteousness and deference is appreciated. Very well. Take me to Lady Lorel and we shall speak."

Me. Not us. Me.

She cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder to Edric. A strange look, one that was successful in keeping its overall composure, but in her eyes the subtle window into a mixture of emotion: a kind of apologetic sorrow, a satisfaction of petty revenge, an air of superiority (rare, this last, for seldom had Kristen in her life wielded her noble blood above those of common stock).

Her words from that night in the cavern, echoing back: No. You won't. I will.

Edric had undoubtedly helped her to get this far. She would have surely perished without him. But now it was her time. Her time. Her time to prove...

...that Vel Anir deserved better than him. And that it could be her. Her. If she followed in the footsteps of those who were truly worthy of her respect and admiration. Those who had proven themselves as undeniable heroes. Selene, who liberated her from the Blades. Zana, who brought the Revolution to all of Vel Anir. Evangeline, whose steadfast loyalty aided in House Pirian's continued prosperity.

Edric had helped her get this far, yes. But she had to get herself home.

With...or without him.

Kristen broke her gaze with Edric and followed after the Virak leader, walking aboard the massive Ironclad.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric was left standing on the dwarven ship, kept company by his fellow sailors and the Virak soldiers who seemed intent now on guarding the gangplank. His lips were thin, and he wished that he'd had a greater grasp on the politics of this all. He wished he'd paid attention, asked more question.

For now it seemed it was he who was completely out of his depth.

The Virak guard who lead Kristen onto the massive Ironclad stayed quiet as they walked. He made no attempt to explain things to her, nor did he offer any advice as they made their way through the belly of the beast. Yet as they walked Kristen would be able to notice a few things.

It was obvious, even to those with little nautical experience, that the ship was not one built for comfort. There was no trappings of nobility, no great gilded crests of gold or useless decorations. Everything within the vessel seemed purpose built for war. Great steel bulkheads separated decks. Each corridor was built with traversal in mind, and even the sailor's that passed them by seemed hardened.

This was not a vessel of luxury, but of war.

It took them a full ten minutes to walk down the length of the ship and then climb a set of iron stairs. The journey eventually ending as they reached a great open room. A map sprawled in the center of it, displayed the Cortosi Coast and a great chunk of Anirian territory. The helmsmen stood in front of a great glass window to watch the sea ahead, and in the midst of a hustling crew stood Adriana Lorel.

She was recognizable likely not because Kristen had met her before, but because she made a striking mirror of her younger sister. Her hair was the same brilliant platinum blonde, her face containing the same features as her sibling, though ten years aged. She carried herself with the dominance of a Queen standing over her subjects.

Adriana's path had not been to the Academy, having not inherited a single ounce of magic. Instead she had tied herself to the Guard. She had joined the navy and served faithfully for five years. By all accounts marking herself out as an exceptional Captain, hunting pirates off the Anirian coast and earning many accolades. After her retirement, House Virak, and her own father, saw she took a strong position within the House Guard.

All but assuring her continued rise until she would eventually take over House Lorel itself.

"Lady Lorel."

The woman turned on a dime, catching sight of her sergeant and raising an eyebrow as she spotted the ragged Kristen behind him.

"This…woman, claims to be Kristen Pirian she has Invoked the old paths of Alliance."

Adriana frowned for a.moment, stepping silently around the massive map. For a few moments she looked passed her sergeant, turning her attention fully onto Kristen. She seemed to search for something, staring, and then a wide smile spread across her lips. "Ah of course! Kristen. Amelia's sister."

Adriana was the same age, having grown up alongside the new generation of Nobles such as Elise and Aisling. The latter of which she'd even served with in the navy.

"I can't imagine what you'd be doing aboard a dwarven ship. Did they capture you?" The woman sounded surprisingly chipper for a Lorel, or anyone associated with House Virak for that matter. "No no, I suppose not. They tend not to make trouble unless drunk."

She chuckled. "So, what are you doing out here?"

Adriana questioned with a smile.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The scale of the Ironclad was to Kristen beyond comprehension. How many blacksmiths had to have been involved with this? And surely it could not have been mundane blacksmiths alone. Means of magical construction--repurposed powers of a Dreadlord involving Alteration, Gravity Manipulation, or a version of Noel's Metalmancy--had to have been utilized as well. All told, this vessel seemed a project whose construction would have involved years and cost a fortune large enough to sink the Kammerund with its weight.

Into the Great Hall of the ship (Kristen could not fathom what else to call it, even though "Great Hall" was not the best fit), Lady Lorel stood out among all of the Virak sworn for the sole fact of her hair, its radiant sheen of blonde, glowing like a chandelier in a...well, in a Great Hall.

The sergeant introduced Kristen, but not Lady Lorel. It didn't matter. Though Kristen had never before met Adriana, she nevertheless knew of her name at least in passing and, seeing the striking resemblance to Liliana, inferred who she happened to be. Details of Adriana's military service, however, had escaped Kristen's purview.

Nevertheless, Kristen's palaver would be with Lady Adriana Lorel, noble-blooded commander of this giant vessel, and she set her mind on that. A delicate balance to hold awareness of: Adriana was Kristen's elder in age, but was of a minor noble house. Father and mother wielded more power than Adriana Lorel, yet it was Adriana Lorel who stood as the authority upon this ship. And, of course, Kristen needed her help.

Kristen's smile was cordial. Not quite forced, but not quite genial either. A pleasant, if perfunctory, little curtsy by way of greeting followed.

"Allow me to first apologize for my sudden intrusion into your affairs, Adriana. Fortunes both good and ill have crafted our crossing, as you shall hear momentarily. Regardless, notions of fate and other providences cast aside, it has become your vessel that now provides the best means for me to return to Anirian lands, as my duty demands."

She felt wonderfully cool saying all of this. Not chilled by fright nor burning with stress, but collected--worthy of the station granted by the blood in the veins. Some elixir brewed by her heated two word retort to Edric and the days of saying little of significance she seemed to have imbibed, and was thus emboldened by.

"The Academy had sent myself and a fellow Initiate, Edric, out west into the deserts of Amol-Kalit on a mission." Momentarily rueful, her smile. "Your own eyes can attest to how this mission went on, reporting as they would of my appalling presentation. Days of woeful travel carried us from the deserts to the plains of Cortos, to the city of Sene, whereupon we were allowed passage upon the Kammerund in exchange for fair work."

Kristen let out a breath.

"And here we stand, Lady Lorel. It is not my intent to commandeer this vessel for my purposes--I am well aware that such is far beyond my station, and would be an affront to Houses Lorel and Virak and an embarrassing impropriety for my own House of Pirian. I merely intend to leverage the inevitability that this vessel must return to Anirian lands at some point, and it is there that I may disembark and continue forth under my own ability. I request of you, Adriana, to allow for this."

Kristen had a firm confidence that she could request this for herself, but what of Edric? Adriana could dismiss his plight on a whim if she so chose. In the next moments, all would be seen.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Adriana listened carefully to every word spoken by Kristen.

He was like a hawk watching it's prey, taking in every little detail and drop. It was easy to tell that she had been trained in the ways of Anirian politics. Her face maintaining a marble mask as the Pirian began to explain everything that had happened, and what she now needed.

For a brief moment she stayed silent.

Her gaze flickered over towards a man who had broken off from the others. He wore the same armor that she did, albeit with slightly less flare. The two of them met eyes, with the man simply shrugging his shoulders as though he had no answer.

"I see." Adriana said finally.

She seemed to consider something, as if letting something lull, and then her marble mask broke as she smiled. "You are of course welcome aboard my ship, any Anirian requesting refuge is."

The words were cryptic, not directly addressing the problem of Edric but simply passing it over all together. The noble doublespeak that had so purveyed the Great Game of Houses which had plagued Vel Anir for centuries. Something that would never truly go away.

"I am sure my cousin will be delighted to hear we assisted such a long time friend and ally." Adriana smiled pleasantly. "But."

The word lingered in the air. "It will likely be two weeks time before our return to Vel Luin."

"Hastened only if we succeed in our mission sooner than anticipated." Adriana did not clarify what that mission was, or why it involved chasing a dwarven ship off the coast of the Cortosi Isles. "If this is does not suit you, you may of course continue on with your...friends."

She paused a moment, distaste on her tongue, then continued. "Though I would be...loathe, to trust a daughter of House Pirian to the whims of any foreigners."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Among the nobility, charity was a thing most rare, reserved only for the closest and most trusted of friends and kin. House Pirian enjoyed many such bonds within itself, noted bonds outside of the House too. But Kristen and Adriana did not know one another. They were not close friends nor beloved kin. And so the conversation began to circle around--right as soon as Adriana uttered that telltale word of But--to the true matter at hand.

How Kristen would purchase her way aboard the Ironclad. And for those for whom wealth was no object, coin was rarely the price. Yes, House Pirian and House Virak (Lorel, then, by extension) were on amiable terms, but this did not preclude the exchange of favors in a quid pro quo manner.

Hastened only if we succeed in our mission sooner than anticipated.

This, of course, was the sentence that had Kristen cornered. It begged the question, and Adriana had to know Kristen could only hopelessly ask it. Lest, of course, Kristen were to risk her fortunes in Coraliv, the unknown, where it may take far more than two weeks to secure passage--provided there were no other incidents like the scorpion, the nomads, or the Inquisitor.

Get it over with.

"Pray tell, then," Kristen said, keeping up the air of cordiality, "what is this mission of which you speak?"

Edric

 

[Edric]

Adriana seemed to smile. "Lady Virak volunteered this ship's services for the Republic."

There were a thousand different reasons to do such a thing of course. House Virak had been one of the first to declare their support for the Republic, and ostensibly Elise had worked incredibly hard for the new Government. She had even been duly elected to the state Parliament.

Yet there was always another motive. Always another step beyond the first. House Virak was not one to give up the game of Houses, most certainly not so easily.

"More than that I am afraid I cannot say." She explained. "Not if you intend on leaving."

Once Kristen was aboard the ship there wouldn't be much of an issue, but if information slipped out? Well that was just inviting disaster on board. "However if you are worried about your safety, I can assure you that the Lyene is the beyond compare in security."

Adriana offered Kristen a pleasant smile.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Two choices.

One was simple, the other was not.

First it was the Lyene versus the Kammerund. As welcoming and hospitable as the dwarves had been, Coraliv offered no promises. In Sene, it was only by sheer unbridled luck that not only was there a ship heading vaguely in the direction of Vel Anir, but also that they were willing to take them on. The Lyene was the clear choice, possessing a certainty of return rather than a gamble.

Second.

Edric.

Why? Why should she bother negotiating passage aboard the Lyene on his behalf? Why, when it had been his heart's desire to simply run away? Why was he even bothering to return to the Academy? There was no reason for it. So far as Kristen knew, they wouldn't try to hunt him down now--the Republic would never allow it. He could just stay aboard the Kammerund as it sailed from Liadain to Epressa and disembark wherever he pleased, disappearing into the great open world of Arethil, never to be seen again in Anirian lands.

Even if it was easy, even if Adriana gave but a simple dismissive wave of her hand over Kristen's concerns and said, "Oh but of course your fellow Initiate may come, 'tis no bother at all," why should Kristen even ask when she now knew the truth of him?

A sobering thought, and instant clarification, coming quietly into her mind:

Because you owe it to him.

To Adriana it would seem as though Kristen was in deep consideration--and she was. Because you owe it to him. Yes...begrudgingly, yes. He may have been a fraud, but it stood regardless that she wouldn't even have the luxury of being able to make this very choice if not for him. She would have been buried in the sands of Amol-Kalit.

The least she could do...was ask him.

She looked back to Adriana. "I wish to confer with my fellow Initiate, Edric. He is still aboard the Kammerund." Whether he was brought aboard the Lyene or Kristen was led back to the Kammerund, it did not matter. "Then I shall make my decision."

Edric

 

[Edric]

"Very well." Adriana said with a nod of her head, looking at Kristen in study.

Something flickered through her gaze, curiosity perhaps. As though she were searching for something else in Kristen's words. Lips thinned for a brief moment, and then she motioned to the man that was still standing behind the other Noble.

"The Sergeant will see you back to your ship." Adriana told Kristen. "You'll have time to speak with your fellow Initiate as my men search the Dwarven ship."

She gave no clue as to what they were searching for. "When they are done, you will have to decide."

It was clear that Adriana would not wait around for either Edric or Kristen. She was on a mission, whatever it might have been, and that took priority over both the Initiates. Even if one of them was the daughter of House Pirian.

"Until then." Adriana said, smiling at Kristen.

The Sergeant stepped up behind Kristen, clearly waiting for her to give the word. Once she did the two of them departed, taking the same journey back that they had there. When they returned to the Kammerund they would find Edric leaning up against the far railing of the ship, joined by the entire Dwarven crew.

Anirian Soldiers were moving around on the deck, searching crates, storage lockers, and everything that might have hidden something away.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Plenty of time.

And yet the decision would need to be made. Or it would be made for her. And for once in this whole disastrous ordeal, Kristen was adamant on not allowing that to happen. Her nerves claimed victory over her far too many times since her enrollment into the Academy. She needed to turn that around, and it needed to start somewhere.

She walked down the gangplank and aboard the Kammerund again, spotting Edric among the (rightfully sour-looking) dwarves. She stood where the gangplank met the dwarven vessel, waved to him, and called out, "Edric, may I have a word?"

He responded best to directness, Edric did, and there was no point to being anything but. She just needed to get straight to the point and temper her own judgments and their ensuing emotions.

When he came to her, she would ask, "Do you even want to return to Vel Anir?"

For the most part, the question came out as neutrally posed. For the most part. The tiniest tinge of resentment had leaked in, and she could well hear it. And if she could, he could.

"Cast aside all other possible reasons save this one, the one that matters most. Look into your heart, and speak the truth to me."

More closely than before, she studied him. His eyes. The answer would be there as much as in his words, if not more. If not entirely.

"Do you" she pointed at his broad chest, emphasizing the word, "want to return to Vel Anir?"

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric glanced towards the Dwarves for a moment, half expecting that Kristen was delivering some sort of death sentence.

Vel Anir hated Elves most of all, the ancient enemy. The foe that threatened their very existence not once, but thrice. Yet dwarves were just as foreign, moreso to Edric's eyes. They had not been preached or railed against, but the differences were still there.

So when Kristen called him over, his face was first colored with a small amount of surprise. Then twisting to consternation as she asked her question.

Lips thinned almost instantly, and as she pointed at his chest he couldn't help but draw his arms folded over themselves. It was an unconscious, quietly defensive stance. One that a psychiatrist might have read as nothing less than guarded.

The question was one that he had asked himself a dozen times over.

This wasn't the first time he had been out of Vel Anir since the Revolution. This wasn't even the first time he had been at sea. He could have run a dozen times over by then. He could have gone and never been found again.

He could have left in the Black Bay.

In Alliria.

Even in the Steppe.

He had certainly had the opportunity, and yet he'd never done it. Was it fear? Cowardice? Was it because he...he didn't know what else to do? He thought back to those moments. Letting Kristen's questions lie in the air even as wind rushed over the deck of the Kammerund.

It hadn't been fear that brought him back. It hadn't been cowardice that cowed his actions. Edric knew exactly what it had been. "Yes."

He said firmly. Not a single doubt to the word.

Edric had promised Noel they would all make it home. He had told the same to Eleanor. To Ralene, and to Kristen. He had told them all that they would make it home. Home. Whatever else it was. That was what Vel Anir meant to him.

The others.