Difference between revisions of "Daybreak:Volume 1 Chapter 13"
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| − | ===Chapter |
+ | ===Chapter 13 - A World of Difference=== |
| + | Kaede spent most of the next two days in bed, skipping even mealtime trips to the dining hall. Thankfully, Pascal brought her a tray of aristocratic food back every time. Even better, he told her that Perceval started inviting him over to join Ariadne, Reynaud, and others during meals, so she didn't even have to feel bad about leaving him to eat alone again. |
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| − | The next week went by in a blur as Rhin-Lotharingie began to mobilize for war. |
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| + | Although he would have deserved it, as all of her discomfort for the past days could be explained as 'his fault'. |
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| − | Emperor Geoffroi Jean de Gaetane issued a general call-to-arms across the entire Empire. However the response that came back was fragmented at best. The war came at an extremely inopportune time as it was already mid-December. Winter was beginning to seal the North Lotharingie Mountains' passes under ice and snow. Meanwhile the winter holidays, including the Winter Solstice, New Year, and Liturgy Day, were just around the corner. |
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| + | By Wednesday afternoon however, her menstrual cramps had lessened enough for her to effectively concentrate on other things. Kaede only missed dinner due to being completely engrossed in her book on Rhin-Lotharingie history: |
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| − | Worse yet, the borders between Rhin-Lotharingie and the Cataliyan Caliphate were fairly new. It had been created due to each side's gains at the expense of the Holy Imperium ten years ago. Before that the Lotharins had always thought of the Caliphate as "my enemy's enemy". Many Lotharins were not used to seeing the Caliph as a new foe. |
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| + | The Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie was forged only 256 years ago, making it the youngest nation in Western Hyperion by far. It was created after Charles the Bold united the twelve Oriflamme Paladins and led the first successful Lotharin revolt against the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea. The rebellion culminated in the Fifth Alisia Campaign, where Charles outmaneuvered the Imperium's northern field army and destroyed a total of twelve Imperial Legions. After that, the rebellion grew like wildfire as the various Lotharin tribes, long discontent over the Imperium's efforts to impose their cultural and religious values, united under Charles' banner in the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War. |
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| − | As a result, opinions toward the war were deeply divided. The differing attitudes of the various regions could readily be seen through the academy's students. |
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| + | ''If first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try again,'' Kaede thought with a wry smile. |
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| − | Those from the southern kingdoms of Avorica and Garona, both of which border the Cataliyan Caliphate, were swift to adopt a zealous stance. They spoke of the war as a struggle between good and evil, between noble Trinitians and Tauheed infidels. The Avorican cadets left to raise troops from their family fiefs and prayed that the Pope would call for a Crusade. The Garonans were at odds with the Church, and instead they took the extreme measure of initiating ''levée en masse'' and demanded the same from the rest of the empire. Most of their students, some as young as sixteen, began returning home to join the army. |
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| + | It made for a good fable, to be certain. But she could only imagine the generational cost in blood and lives the Lotharins paid. |
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| − | Meanwhile, the students from the northern Kingdom of Gleann Mòr dragged their feet, citing how the Winter was already here and that it would be better to wait until the campaigning season in Spring. However even they weren't as problematic as those from the Kingdom of Ceredigion, many of whom blamed the war on the Emperor's religious policies and diplomatic failures, with some even pretending that this wasn't their problem. |
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| + | She also found it a bit ironic. Because after centuries of slow integration and conversion, the Lotharins were more like the Imperials than they would like to admit. Trinitian might not be the 'official' state religion of Rhin-Lotharingie, but it was pretty close as only pockets of the old gods held out. |
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| − | There had already been three scuffles between students over political differences in viewpoint. |
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| + | Nevertheless, the Lotharins managed to carve out a 'National Myth' for themselves. This includes many heroes such as Charles the Bold, Douglas the Black, Gwendolyn the Faerie Sword, et cetera. The number twelve also took on a sacred significance in Lotharin historiography: the twelve Paladins, the twelve original tribes, the twelve weeks campaign that resulted in twelve shattered Legions... ''Which is almost certainly an exaggeration,'' Kaede thought. |
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| − | Students from the Lotharin heartlands, including both Reynaud and Gerard, often found themselves caught between these two poles. They supported the gathering of feudal armies to defend their nation, but most were neither in favor of a Crusade -- which pulled in foreign armies that pillaged the land -- nor mandated conscription. Those who lived further east anxiously pointed out that the Imperium still covetted their family lands. They insisted that the last thing Rhin-Lotharingie could afford to do was to strip bare its other defenses. |
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| + | The Lotharins would claim otherwise, as they had enshrined the twelve captured Legionary Eagles in their royal palace. But even an amateur historian like Kaede could see the signs. For example, the Lotharins took great pride in depicting how Charles' persistent appeals eventually united the squabbling tribes under a common banner of unity, which they claimed was the reason for the revolt's success. However that ignored the international factors which also played a decisive role. This included: |
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| − | This confused situation in Rhin-Lotharingie stood in sharp contrast to that of Weichsel, as Pascal conversed almost daily with his father back home to receive updates. |
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| + | Arms sales from the Kingdom of Weichsel as it pulled away from the Imperial sphere of influence... |
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| − | King Leopold von Drachenlanzen of Weichsel saw no choice but to honor their alliance. This was the first war against the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie since signing the defensive treaty. Failing to uphold the pledge would not only invalidate their coalition in the eyes of the world, but also risk condemnation from Weichsel's only influential ally within the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea. |
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| + | Money and military support from the Grand Republic of Samara, in repayment for the help they received from Leslie the Paladin over three hundred years ago during the Great Northern War... |
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| − | Ever since Ferdinand I, the founding King of Weichsel, allowed himself to be crowned by the Pope, the small nation in the north has maintained the confidence of the Holy See. It served as a bastion of Trinitian might against the barbaric pagans of the north. |
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| + | ...And last but certainly not the least, the Caliph's decision to launch the 1st Tauheed Holy War against the Imperium at the same time. |
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| − | Papal Appeasement was Weichsel's foremost deterrence against southern aggression, especially after hostilities during the War of Imperial Succession. Doubling Weichsel's landmass had been worth the papal condemnation it earned them that time. It had been silenced by generous donations of gold while leaving church assets alone during territorial annexation. But King Leopold could ill afford further disapproval. |
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| + | If Kaede hadn't cross-referenced the events between multiple historical sources, she might not even have realized. However such efforts were far beyond the scope of the average citizen, even if they read. |
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| − | The King had invoked the ''Writ of Universal Conscription'', calling for 'General Mobilization' in the name of the Holy Father. Using this first stage of Weichsel's Fourfold Mobilization system, the standing army would quadruple in size as professional soldiers were augmented by militia reservists. Furthermore, Noble Reiter units, formed by drafting the magic-blessed nobility, would supplement the professional Weichsel Cavalry that consisted of noble spellsword knights and their retainer troops. |
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| + | ''Magic or not, history is still written by the victor,'' Kaede thought. It was a fact of life she had long come to accept, but it still bothered her to think about. Just as it disturbed her when she first saw how, back in 1950, most of continental Europe agreed that it was the Soviet Union who played the greatest role in the defeat of Nazi Germany. Yet after seventy years and one Cold War, it was the Americans who raised themselves onto that pedestal. |
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| − | However even with Weichsel coming to Rhin-Lotharingie's aid, their armies were months away at least. In the meantime the invasion had caught the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie sorely unprepared. |
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| + | Kaede's frown was soon abated when a mouthwatering scent wafted into the room. Except Pascal wasn't carrying anything as he strode into view. |
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| − | Emperor Geoffroi did respond to the Caliphate's military buildup in the south by reinforcing his border garrisons. However the spy reports that reached the eyes of the Emperor grossly underestimated both the readiness and the tidal scale of the Caliphate's invasion. News from the borders claimed of Cataliyan armies numbering in the hundreds of thousands. They poured over the southern mountain passes in three separate army groups. The Lotharin border troops, hopeless to stop the approaching juggernaut, fell back across the entire front and sought to regroup at a second line. |
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| + | "You are being invited to dinner, sort of. Ariadne is just outside the door." |
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| − | They left six undefended duchies in their wake. |
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| + | His broad shoulders gave a noncommittal shrug, followed by a silent reminder as he saw how Kaede only wore an unbuttoned jacket over her undergarments. |
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| − | Five, technically. Duke Guy of Avro-Calent refused the general retreat order. His proud, multi-layered concentric castle boasted the strongest fortification in Southern Rhin-Lotharingie. However, the Cataliyan vanguard forces simply bypassed his castle. Rear army units then surrounded the fortress and bombarded it nonstop for three days, followed by a nineteen-hour relentless assault which seized the citadel from its exhausted defenders. In the end, the Duke's bravado and 'glorious death' not only failed to halt or even significantly slow the invasion, but cost the Rhin-Lotharingie three thousand precious seasoned troops and an entire stockpile of army grain. |
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| + | "<You should get dressed properly first.>" |
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| + | According to Pascal, Ariadne had mostly put away their past after her epic -- and publicly humiliating -- slap. But not hating his guts wasn't the same as being on good terms. |
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| + | Kaede nodded back and rushed to put on her white pseudo-uniform, a task far simpler than with any of those dresses. She also stuffed two hot water pads into its belt pouches. |
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| − | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
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| − | "I have ''never'' seen someone so bad on a horse." |
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| − | Kaede lay flat on the ground as she ignored Pascal's scathing remark. This was her third practice session with a mount, and she still almost fell off twice during a prolonged canter. Then the white war steed went into a full gallop, and only Pascal's ''Air Cushion'' spell kept her from injuring her back. |
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| − | Among Kaede's kendo friends back on Earth, Kaede's coordination and reflexes had been mediocre at best. It was yet another reason why ''he'' preferred the meditative and procedural movements of archery over the rapid assaults and reactionary parries of swordplay. Coming to Hyperion and adapting to a new, smaller body hadn't helped her in attaining better control over her muscles... or lack thereof. |
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| − | At least her period had ended. The first practice session had far less pleasant results. |
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| − | "She's not that bad. You should have seen Gerard when he first learned how to ride. That guy was a true sack of potatoes. It makes one appreciate how far he's come." |
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| − | Perceval tried to encourage Kaede every time he came by to see Ariadne, who offered Kaede what pointers she could. Unsurprisingly, the pegasus knight was an exceptional rider. The Manteuffels weren't literally raised in the saddle like their nomadic ancestors. However as Ariadne first learned to ride a pony since she was four, it wasn't far from the truth either. |
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| − | "Excuse me for not being born ''noble''." Kaede retorted to Pascal as she stood back up, rubbing her painful behind. |
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| − | The ''Air Cushion'' softened the landing enough to prevent injuries, but there was still some impact. Combined with all the ups and downs in the saddle, it made Kaede's butt hurt, which was not a place used to it given the wonders of modern vehicle suspension. |
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| − | The horsemanship problem was hardly a new one. Even during the pre-industrial eras of Earth, cavalry was predominantly a noble occupation. Only the wealthy could afford to grow up accustomed to a proper war steed. Farmers had horses and mules as well, but a docile, plow-towing animal was far different from one bred for battle. |
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| − | As for Kaede? She had never even petted a pony before, let alone ride a galloping stallion. |
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| − | "Again?" she asked, watching Pascal whistle the horse back around. |
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| − | "No. Dinner is almost upon us, and that was your fourth try this session. Give your backside a rest already." |
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| − | Kaede quickly put her hands away. She wasn't aware it had been that obvious. |
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| − | "Nobody is going to become good in just a few days. Only a ''prodigy'' would be foolish enough to expect that, even though your own horsemanship is hardly worth bragging about..." |
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| − | Ariadne's words were cutting, yet they still came with a smile. She walked over from the wall Perceval and her had been leaning against. Her delicate fingers extended back to cup her waist-length hair, which swayed in the courtyard's strong crosswinds like a pink waterfall. |
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| − | "Besides, isn't hanging onto a canter enough? Not like she's going to join a thundering charge, even in the very unlikely scenario that you did." |
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| − | With the reins back in his hands, Pascal's turquoise gaze was still examining Kaede as he began his reply: |
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| − | "I was hoping she could act as my courier should the opportunity arise. The telepathic link grounded in our familiar bond would allow me to communicate with anyone directly through her. It is exceedingly useful given how normal ''Telepathy'' spells cannot function in a battlefield full of clashing mana and ''Farspeak'' spells require concentration to maintain. It would be a good reason for her to come with me." |
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| − | "I thought mages often brought their familiars along?" Kaede puzzled. |
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| − | Her own hair was long enough that she stuffed its other end into her belt pouch. With most of her time spent reading, Kaede rarely minded the sheer length of her snowy-white hair, which reached all the way down to her thighs. In fact, she rather enjoyed how soft and comfortable it was. Though it was also annoying on windy days when she came outside. |
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| − | "Yes. In most other cases, I would not worry about it." Pascal answered. "But bringing a ''girl'' from my household does raise questions, and not the kind good for army morale." |
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| + | Pascal then stopped her before she could walk out. He took care to make sure her appearance was immaculate and wouldn't embarrass him before the noblest of ladies. |
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| − | At the same time, Perceval strode up from behind Ariadne and put his arm around her shoulders with a smile. His hands carefully brushed her hair back into place. After receiving an appreciative smile from her, he turned his gaze towards Pascal: |
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| + | Two of them, as it turned out. |
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| − | "Speaking of armies, are you planning to leave for Weichsel? I know Aria is leaving tomorrow morning. And she tells me you've been offered the command of a Noble Reiter company." |
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| + | "Good evening Kaede. Thought you could use a little chat and company after two days." Ariadne's angelic smile radiated from just beyond the room's doorway, with a food tray hovering above one palm and the other hand waving at her. "My friend Cecylia is paying a visit from Alis Avern. Would you be interested in joining us?" |
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| − | 'Reiter' was one of the few military terms Kaede knew from German history: one of the first cavalry in Europe who raised firearms to the status of primary weapons. The fact her familiar bond's 'translation' feature picked this word in specific meant that the magic actually tried to match Weichsel's language to her specific knowledge. |
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| + | "Pleased to make your acquaintance." The petite girl who stood beside Ariadne's pink cascade beamed and waved energetically. |
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| − | It was a rather appropriate choice too. Unlike the professional 'Weichsel Cavalry' which used a combination of polearms, projectiles, and spells, the entirely aristocratic Noble Reiters were cavalrymen who served only as artillery-mages. Their lack of proper combat training reflected in their poor ability to hold out in close combat. |
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| + | Kaede wasn't exactly in a mood to meet new people tonight, but this wasn't an offer she could refuse politely. |
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| − | "I am not actually sure yet. I would like to go to Alis Avern and find out what is going on at the front lines. Study the war as it progresses. May even make a suggestion or two. The company hardly needs me to march into Rhin-Lotharingie." Pascal frowned. "But..." |
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| + | "The pleasure is mine," she tried her best to curtsy in return. |
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| − | "A Captain who does not march with his men cannot command his men in battle." Ariadne noted, which led to a sigh from Pascal. |
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| + | Cecylia was slightly taller than Kaede. She had fine, glossy black hair, trimmed short and pulled back by a white ribbon. Standing next to the mature and elegant Ariadne, she seemed almost fragile with her petite and thin figure, which only enhanced her undeniably cute appearance. Her small nose and lips lay under a pair of vibrant, dark-ruby eyes that held something odd about them, giving off a mysteriously alluring light. Her skin was fair to the point of bearing nearly a translucent silky sheen, which was accentuated by a black uniform similar to what Pascal wore. Except hers had no crimson stripes and came with a long, wide skirt instead of trousers. |
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| − | "Basically what my father said. So yes, I think I will be departing with her tomorrow. What about you?" Pascal then looked at Perceval. "Are you planning to stay here while there is a war on?" |
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| + | As Kaede neared the doorway, she gasped and nearly tripped into a tray of wiener schnitzel and a steaming bowl of vegetable soup. She had just realized what that 'something odd' about Cecylia was: |
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| − | "No." Perceval declared without a moment of hesitation. "I can't just stay here pretending to be a healer, while there are thousands of dying soldiers on the frontlines who are in desperate need of one. However, I think it'd be better if I join an organization instead of act alone. Except I don't know what to join yet, or whom to join, if I am to go with the troops of a lord." |
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| + | Inside the round black pupils within her deep-red iris, Cecylia's eyes held tiny scarlet-red crosses. |
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| − | "You could join my company." Pascal proposed without a second thought. "We will be assembling in Nordkreuz, the same place as Ariadne's unit. And I promise you that once we reach the front, I will always go where we are needed most." |
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| + | The new girl's hands gently steadied Kaede as she looked back up. Her gaze was unerringly drawn to the depth of those eyes before she could pull back and glance away. |
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| − | "Are you sure? You don't think I'm too Lotharin and boring?" |
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| + | "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare." |
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| − | Perceval glanced away at the last second, and Kaede wondered if he regretted impulsively scratching that old wound the moment those words left his mouth. |
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| + | "Hehe, don't worry about it," Cecylia giggled in her schoolgirl soprano. "I'll explain when we get back to Aria's room." |
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| − | "Command does not mind outsiders for a healer, since there are never enough for them to go around." Pascal stated. "And I would be ''honored'' if you would join me." |
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| + | She then turned towards Pascal while reaching for the doorknob: |
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| − | The two men looked at one another, before each of them nodded in silent recognition with a slight smirk. |
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| + | "See you later Pascal! Don't worry, we'll take good care of her!" |
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| − | "I think I also have an answer on how to bring your familiar without any problems." |
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| + | Her cheery voice gave Kaede bit of a surprise, who mentally asked Pascal: "<Made a new friend already?>" |
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| − | Both Pascal and Kaede stared at Perceval for several moments. Neither could figure out the meaning behind his words before the two of them spoke at once: |
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| + | "Good night," Pascal bid before sending back a somewhat wistful response: |
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| − | "How?" |
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| + | "<No. We spoke quite a bit before I fell out with Ariadne, then until today she mostly avoided me. Cecylia Renata von Falkenhausen is the third child of General Wiktor von Falkenhausen, my father's second-in-command. Since we are the same age, our fathers had us meet when we were six. She is actually the one who introduced me to Ariadne.>" |
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| − | "Easy," the healer's eyes almost sparkled under his brown bangs. "Medical supplies." |
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| + | ''Bet your breakup came as a personal embarrassment for her then.'' Kaede thought as Cecylia took her hand and began pulling her down the hall with Ariadne following behind. |
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| − | ''Oh right, walking Blood Bank of Samara,'' Kaede remembered. As she faced the grinning Perceval and the giggling Ariadne, her wispy response came out completely flat. |
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| + | "<Be careful though. She likes to drag others to her pace before turning it back on them.>" |
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| − | "Oh ha-ha. Very funny." |
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| + | But rather than cautionary, Pascal sounded almost... admiring. |
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| − | Meanwhile, Pascal looked even less amused than his familiar: |
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| + | So Kaede wrote down another name on her mental list of people that Pascal actually respected. |
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| − | "Fair warning: if she faints, I am holding ''you'' responsible." |
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| + | The third-year girls' dorms were just one floor above, and Ariadne's room turned out to be... very feminine. |
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| − | After returning the horse to the stablemaster, Kaede followed Pascal back to the dorms because he wanted to "deal with something first." |
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| + | The bedsheets and curtains were in a soft pink that matched her hair, decorated by an abundance of white laces and frills. Frames of natural scenery on watercolor canvas decorated the walls, while a baby grand piano lay against the far corner. |
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| − | Thus she sat down on the bed and took out a tome to read while he finished whatever errand he had. |
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| + | ''This is definitely the room of a highborn lady.'' |
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| − | Except he just stood there staring at her. |
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| + | Even before the door closed behind them, Kaede found herself greeted by a plump cat with lush white and gray fur. It laid down before Kaede and gazed at her through teal eyes before giving an adorable purr. |
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| − | "What is it?" |
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| + | She knelt down to pet and stroke its wonderfully soft coat. |
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| − | "I received something from the postmaster for you today." |
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| + | "Kaede, you might want to finish your dinner before getting too friendly with Ania," Ariadne suggested as she took the tray to the writing desk by the window. "She loves to steal food, and it's hard to keep watch on all of them." |
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| − | Pascal spoke with a not-serious, not-joyous, not-angry, but oddly peaceful and gentle expression as he handed her a wrapped parchment scroll. He then turned the chair at his work desk around to face her before sitting down on it. |
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| + | "All of them?" |
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| − | ''Who would send something to me?'' |
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| + | "Ania is a matryoshka cat from Samara." Cecylia watched with an amused grin. "She's also my familiar." |
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| − | Kaede frowned as she took the scroll. Rolling it over, her eyes widened at the black dragon crest of Weichsel on its official wax seal. Her small hands almost fumbled in their rush to unwrap it. She pulled it open before her gaze to scan through... |
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| + | Kaede stood back up, puzzled. |
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| − | All speculative trains of thoughts came to crashing halts as she registered its impossible content. |
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| + | "Matryoshka?" |
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| − | Kaede had always avoided thinking about it. But despite trying her best to forget it, her memories would never let go of that dreadful first meeting with the headmaster, or even the exact words his horribly raspy voice used to announced her fate in this world: |
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| + | Even as Kaede asked, Ania looked up, and another feline face, identical but slightly smaller, emerged from below her furry stomach. The smaller cat soon pulled herself out, laid down next to the larger Ania, and the process repeated itself. |
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| − | "''No, Miss Familiar. You are neither a citizen of Rhin-Lotharingie nor Weichsel. You are not even a holder of any lawfully issued identification. Furthermore, you were summoned by a mage through his contractual ritual. In the eyes of our national laws, you are a non-entity that is only recognized as part of his responsibility. You are not property, but due to the lack of legal precedence, you are not far above it, either.''" |
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| + | Kaede soon found herself wide-eyed and speechless, surrounded by nine purring cats of decreasing size and plumpness. |
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| − | She couldn't even begin to count the number of times those words, spoken in that exact same voice, returned to haunt her as she laid awake in bed into the depth of the night. |
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| + | "Are they... separate...?" she struggled to find the right words. |
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| − | Returning to the beginning of the scroll, Kaede carefully read each line and every word. She took care to ascertain its reality, that she wasn't merely misinterpreting through wishful thinking: |
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| + | "They share the same psyche, as far as we know," Cecylia explained. "Matryoshka cats use shadow magic to make duplicates of themselves to scout for predators and trap prey. The largest one is always the main body, even though tapping its senses always feel like the smallest one is the primary. |
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| − | ''By the powers invested in me by His Majesty King Leopold Karl-Wilhelm von Drachenlanzen, I hereby recognize and certify Miss Kaede Nikita Konstantinovich Suvorsky, member to the noble household of Sir Karl August von Moltewitz, Landgrave of Nordkreuz, as a resident of the Kingdom of Weichsel, with all the rights, privileges, and duties of...'' |
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| + | "Speaking of eyes and ears, are you..." |
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| − | She couldn't continue anymore as moisture invaded her eyes and blurred her sight. |
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| + | "Not since I got annoyed with him and told him to stop. Pascal did promise not to intrude upon my senses without permission," Kaede answered as she wondered how many times she would have to explain this to people. |
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| − | ''I can't believe it.'' |
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| + | "Good!" Cecylia grinned. "Not that he's the voyeur type. But we don't need him to catch an eye-full during girls' night." |
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| − | "This... this is..." her dry voice choked out. |
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| + | ''Oh... OH!'' |
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| − | For a pre-modern society, 'household' simply saw her as a servant to the Landgrave's family. But this was nevertheless infinitely better than mere 'property'. |
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| + | ''This must be the 'slumber party' guys are so intrigued over.'' |
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| − | "It is an official certification of residency in the Kingdom of Weichsel, personally signed by the Department Chief of Immigration from the Ministry of the Interior. As long as you abide by our laws, this residency will turn into lawful citizenship after ten years of either living within Weichsel's domains or serving the interests of Weichsel on foreign soil, which will certainly be the case when you're with me." |
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| + | Kaede began to fidget just inside the entrance. Her cheeks heated up and her eyes glanced away as Cecylia wasted no time before starting to undress, with a set of black velvet pajamas with pink frills already laid out on the bed before her. |
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| − | ''Residency... it's been only... a month since I came to this world!'' |
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| + | Ariadne was quick to notice as usual, soon commenting in her peaceful smile from the other side of the room: |
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| − | Kaede had never applied for citizenship herself. But even she knew that such changes in status usually took years, months at the very least. She had already resigned herself for being completely without rights and reliant upon his protection for the foreseeable future... |
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| + | "Cecylia, you're making our guest uncomfortable." |
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| − | "How did you get this so--" |
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| + | "Rules are rules: sleepwear only! No stupid layers of formality on girls' night!" |
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| − | "The process normally takes at least two years. But since high government positions are mostly filled by military officers who retired into the reserves, my family has plenty of contacts within the ministries..." |
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| + | "I think changing in front of someone you recently met goes far beyond mere 'casual'." |
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| − | Pascal was totally unabashed. To him, using back-doors for personal affairs like this was his right. |
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| + | "Hehe well, we'll just get familiar ''that'' much faster then!" |
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| − | "Some bribery also paved the way, of course. But I saw how shocked you were over this when the headmaster first mentioned it. Given that particular worry, expediency became an urgent need." |
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| + | Before Kaede knew it, Cecylia had finished changing and bounced back. Her first thought was that Cecylia's exposed shoulders above her camisole easily had the smoothest, pearly skin she had ever seen, even with modern cosmetics and skincare products. In fact, it seemed almost unnatural. |
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| − | ''Even so, he must have started the weekend after I came...'' |
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| + | "Eek!" |
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| − | Kaede felt her tears' wet warmth streak down her cheeks. Her glassy eyes continued to gaze upon the scroll. Her fingers were almost shaking as she slowly closed the thick parchment back into a roll. |
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| + | Backed into the wall, Kaede yelped in surprise as Cecylia's delicate fingers snaked in and started undoing her buttons with swift precision. |
||
| − | She finally let out the breath she had been unknowingly holding. Her hands brought the certificate close to her chest, protectively clutching what was easily the most precious item Pascal had given her since coming to this fantasy realm. |
||
| + | "S-stop!" |
||
| − | Yet in hindsight, it wasn't his best present to her. More precisely, it was merely a representation of the rest: |
||
| + | She turned towards Ariadne with her eyes pleading. The noble lady then tilted her head with a scowl before she walked over and pulled the overenthusiastic Cecylia off by the wrists. |
||
| − | In a land where she had absolutely nothing to her name, he had given her a warm and secure place to call home. |
||
| + | "At least get to know someone properly before you start being forceful. You're going to drive Kaede off with this kind of behavior!" |
||
| − | It was easy, so easy to consider this his obligation, as Pascal was the one who tore Kaede away from her past life by summoning her into this world. But she also knew that few individuals placed in such circumstances would have taken the same position or invested the same effort for her sake. |
||
| + | "Awww but I wanna see! Pascal has pretty good tastes you know!" |
||
| − | It might be his responsibility, but it was a responsibility he took in full measure and upheld even without being asked. |
||
| + | With her shirt open and halfway down her shoulders, Kaede hugged her small chest and pressed herself against the wall. She could feel her cheeks blushing furiously, her exposed skin reddening as they met the warm indoor air again. Oddly enough, she found this far more embarrassing than wearing the same thing in front of Pascal. |
||
| − | "Thank you..." |
||
| + | ''Girls by themselves are way too scary...'' |
||
| − | Kaede smiled back at Pascal through her blurry gaze. Her hand reached up to wipe away the tears, but even then she had trouble clearly making out his countenance. |
||
| + | "Oh, Sylv is going to have ''so much fun'' with her!" |
||
| − | "I can't even begin to describe... but... this really, ''really'' means a lot to me. Everything..." |
||
| + | Cecylia kept her brightly lit eyes fixated on Kaede, as though savoring an alluring piece of artwork. |
||
| − | The water in her eyes wouldn't stop coming out. It formed a small yet steady stream that her hands kept clearing away. |
||
| + | Trying to defuse the situation, Ariadne herself began to undress and change to her sleepwear. She started by revealing a soft-pink bustier that tightly hugged her ample bosom. |
||
| − | Throughout her entire life, Kaede almost never lost control of her emotions this way. Yet this was already her second time since coming to Hyperion. |
||
| + | It didn't have quite the intended effect. Kaede merely looked for more inconspicuous objects to fascinate over. |
||
| − | A small corner of her mind couldn't help but wonder if having the hormone imbalance of a teenage girl had something to do with it. There was also the fact that female brains were wired very differently from male brains, or how neurotransmitter roles varied between genders, or... |
||
| − | Perhaps shedding a few more tears were the least of her self-adapting changes since arriving in this new world. |
||
| + | ... |
||
| − | "I know I should at least give you a hug or something in gratitude over this. Yet I can't even stop crying here..." |
||
| − | Thinking back, Kaede had never felt more glad that she picked his side. She had never been more assured that she made the right decision when she joined the assassination scheme against him for his protection. Yet she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt over her brief indecision. Even back then, when she chose whether or not to partake in his murder, he had already started his work to help her feel at ease. |
||
| + | "You still haven't introduced yourself like you promised," Kaede grumbled before she leaned over the bedside counter and bit into another slice of wiener schnitzel. |
||
| − | ''I could have done so much wrong...'' |
||
| + | Delicious food always made her feel better about things. |
||
| − | Wordlessly, Pascal stood up from his chair, walked over to the bed, and wrapped both of his arms around her thin shoulders. |
||
| + | She even stopped obsessing over the fact that she wore nothing more than white lingerie as the three of them sat on Ariadne's king-sized four-poster bed between 'nine' furry cats. Although it would take a while before she could grow accustomed to it, if that were possible at all. |
||
| − | She could feel his protective warmth as he pulled her into his firm chest. |
||
| + | "Hehe, I do still owe an explanation don't I?" Cecylia replied cheerily. "I take it's your first time meeting a dhampir?" |
||
| − | "The hugs are free." He said in that odd joking tone of his. |
||
| + | Kaede nearly choked. 'Dhampir' of slavic folklore was the child between a human and... |
||
| − | Still buried in his chest, Kaede couldn't help but crack an unseen smile: |
||
| + | "One of your parents... is a vampire?" She asked as her coughs subsided with the help of Ariadne stroking her back. |
||
| − | ''Such inappropriate timing...'' |
||
| + | "Ah... you really aren't from our world are you?" |
||
| − | She didn't even have the urge to hit him this time. |
||
| + | Cecylia's scarlet-cross eyes grew fascinated as a mischievous grin lit up her face. She held up the smallest kitty and twiddled its paw towards Kaede while launching into a lively explanation that totally contrasted with its contents: |
||
| − | After nearly a minute, Pascal pulled back just enough to look down into her glassy eyes. His fingers reached up to carefully wipe them away. |
||
| + | "The vampire clans were wiped out centuries ago by the not-yet-Holy Imperium, although not before their curses destroyed sixteen whole legions and left the Dead Mountains perpetually filled with murderous mist. Dhampir are the descendants of vampires, still carrying the core of the fiendish blood curse that first created them during the Demonic Invasion. But the magic have at least diluted enough that the church could seal its effects, which..." she pointed to her pupils, "is what this cross is. I've had it since my baptism, dyed by my own magic over the years in the same way Ariadne's rosy mana colors her hair." |
||
| − | "As much as I enjoy how huggable you are, we really should go down for the feast. Otherwise, Ariadne and the rest are going to believe I am chastising you over today's practice." |
||
| + | "So... you don't drink blood anymore then?" |
||
| − | Kaede couldn't help but smile back at him. Her rose-quartz eyes were still swollen red: |
||
| + | The moment Cecylia put her kitten back onto the bedcovers, all nine cats scurried forward and surrounded Kaede's sides and rear like a furry trolley train. |
||
| − | "Then you better help me clean this up first. Otherwise, they'll ''know'' you've been bullying me." |
||
| + | "We do not urge for blood. But we certainly still ''enjoy'' it..." |
||
| + | Cecylia's grin slanted into a smirk at just the right angle, highlighting the little fang of a canine she sported. Oddly enough, only one was slightly bigger than usual. But Kaede hardly thought about it as the dhampir leaned in with a hungry, blood-red gaze. |
||
| + | With her entire body shivering, Kaede had never felt so aware of her Samaran body, nor the fact her blood was literally 'health food' for the predatory girl before her. |
||
| − | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
||
| + | "Most dhampirs follow our cultural tradition of ''taking'' blood..." |
||
| + | Kaede could feel Cecylia's thin yet firm fingers slide down her bare shoulders, pinning her arms on each side. Hot breaths tickled her exposed collarbone as two deep-red eyes leaned in. Already quivering with trepidation, Kaede shook uselessly against Cecylia's unyielding grasp. It was as though those very pupils made her feel weak, yet Kaede couldn't break eye contact. She then cringed as she felt the dhampir's moist lips touched her skin... and kissed her gently. |
||
| + | Cecylia then leaned back with the broad smile of a joke well played. |
||
| − | As Kaede followed Pascal into the main keep, they found Professor Albert waiting for him with a stern, almost grim expression. |
||
| + | "Y-you're horrible." Kaede muttered in her wispy, shaky voice as she wiped the tears from her glaring eyes. She genuinely felt scared for a moment as it felt like her whole body had been paralyzed. |
||
| − | "Sir Pascal, please come with me for a moment. There is something private I must inform you of." |
||
| + | "Hehe sorry. You're just so cute that I couldn't resist teasing a teeny bit extra." Cecylia responded. Her playful words didn't harbor the slightest drop of apology. |
||
| − | Kaede tilted her head slightly as she looked at Pascal, whose poker face went on instantly. |
||
| − | + | Meanwhile, her nine cats returned to the center of the bed, forming a full circle around her while each playfully chased the swaying tail of the kitten before them. |
|
| + | "Don't worry though, we only take blood from the partners we marry." Cecylia announced proudly. "Dhampirs lack the regenerative vitality of vampires, so drinking blood has become a rather private issue -- diseases and all that." |
||
| − | She hesitated for a minute before leaving. Something about Pascal, about the entire situation just didn't feel right. Yet at the same time, it didn't do her any good to wait there. |
||
| + | ''So... dhampirs are dead afraid of Sexually Transmitted Diseases.'' |
||
| − | This turned out to be the first time Kaede walked into the great dining hall by herself. |
||
| + | Kaede was still trying to calm down her heartbeat. Nevertheless she sent a note to her future self that the next time a dhampir threatens to bite her, she should just warn them of syphilis. |
||
| − | Today was December 25th, exactly one month since Kaede came to this world. It was the day of the Winter Solstice in Hyperion. Yet despite being a day of feasting, the halls remained plain and the tables half-empty. Over a third of the students have either left to go join the military, or departed for home to seek safety. Apart from the whiff of sumptuous food, there wasn't the slightest air of celebration in the dining hall. |
||
| + | "Although we no longer need it, consuming fresh human blood does make us appear younger." Cecylia added. "You should see my father, hundred-fifty-eight years old and still drawing the attention of every lady across the hall like a stud beefcake. Mother gets jealous all the time, even though he's never cheated on her once after a century of marriage. We dhampirs tend to be rather devoted in matrimony, blood of our cherished mate flowing through us and all." |
||
| − | Nevertheless, Kaede received plenty of odd stares on her way to her seat. Some were merely curious, presumably over where her master was. Meanwhile others held her in contempt, disgusted over how the familiar could be allowed to stride unescorted across noble grounds in her proud bearing, as though she deserved to eat there. |
||
| + | Ariadne had watched the entire exchange with a serene smile, completely unperturbed, while her hands continued to brush her long, flowing pink hair. Now, she finally reentered the conversation: |
||
| − | Thankfully, nobody approached or stopped her. She walked up to Perceval's diminished group, where Ariadne saw her and wondered aloud: |
||
| + | "That's pretty rare among us. Most noble lords have at least one affair during their youth. It's almost something of a 'proud' achievement among them. The Trinitian Church may require monogamy, but aristocratic culture always tend to turn a blind eye toward mistresses." |
||
| − | "Where's Pascal?" |
||
| + | "It's worse in Rhin-Lotharingie." Cecylia noted. "They haven't shrugged off their old pagan traditions of concubines equaling prestige. But here complains the girl whose beloved suitor has eyes only for her." |
||
| − | "Professor Albert stopped him along the way to tell him something." |
||
| + | Cecylia's sigh was almost longing, but Ariadne had no intention of playing into it. |
||
| − | Kaede sat down and waited. Her eyes kept peeled at the entrance. |
||
| + | "And you've got how many boys chasing after you?" |
||
| − | Several minutes later, she watched as Professor Albert entered the hall. But there was no sign of Pascal following him. |
||
| + | "Not here." Cecylia's smile faltered a little. "Most Lotharins only need to see my eyes before they decide I'm a sinner." |
||
| − | As Albert sat down at the staff table, he looked over to a Lotharin professor and they had an exchange. Kaede did not know the lady's name. However it seems that ever since Duke Gaston, the combat and art instructor, left to join the war, she had been elevated to the role of the senior professor. For a moment Albert and her jousted verbally. Then, with an obvious sigh, the lady stood up and her gloved hand cupped her throat for a second before she spoke out: |
||
| + | "Didn't stop Reynaud and Gerard." |
||
| − | "May I have your attention please." |
||
| + | Cecylia almost laughed. "Reynaud flirts with half of everything female and walking on two legs, plus I prefer someone taller than me. Gerard is a nice guy and a real diligent worker. Sweet, definitely the romantic type, not to mention those ''perfect'' abs the last time he wrestled with Reynaud." |
||
| − | Despite the polite words, her magically amplified voice did not speak them in the tone of a request, but as an order. |
||
| + | Her dhampir eyes had that 'hungry' look again... |
||
| − | Under her commanding presence, the entire dining hall quieted down within seconds. Even the nobles fell silent in respect and courtesy. |
||
| + | "But... if I court him he'd expect me to become his housewife or something. Nope!" |
||
| − | "Before we offer our prayers to the Holy Father, I have two announcements to make. I ask you all to brace yourselves, for neither of them bear pleasant news." |
||
| + | Cecylia retrieved a tennis-sized ball of red yarn and tossed it onto the bed, where the nine Anias began to juggle and bounce it around like some kind of feline volleyball game. |
||
| − | Kaede's stomach twisted itself in knots as she anxiously awaited the bad news that almost undoubtedly involved Pascal. |
||
| + | "Finding the ideal man is overrated. It's far better to help a boy with potential reach his manly peak. That, is where true and lasting love lay." |
||
| − | "First, His Holiness Pope Vigilius has recognized the late Duke Guy of Avro-Calent, as a martyr of the faith and canonized him as a saint..." |
||
| + | Ariadne's calm response sounded more like a profession of wisdom. But with Pascal's rooftop apology to Perceval only days past, Kaede quickly realized that the lady was speaking from personal experience. |
||
| − | It was an obvious backhanded slap towards the Emperor of Rhin-Lotharingie, who gave the order for a general retreat from the Lotharin-Cataliyan borders. But what came next was far, far worse as the lady professor continued in her grim voice with rising disgust, as though the very contents she read were revolting garbage: |
||
| + | "Of course it doesn't hurt when that boy you help comes from a powerful dynasty and is the heir to a duchy." Cecylia leaned into Ariadne with a smirk. "It's why the Marshal sent you here on this program even though you're a Knight Phantom. Isn't that right, future Baguette Duchess?" |
||
| − | "His Holiness is distressed by the loss of the helpless and the faithful to infidel hands, made possible only by... what he accuses as 'cowardice' on the part of our Emperor Geoffroi, who 'performed no deeds in the eyes of the Church, yet basked in greed over the past decades against the pious and good people of the Holy Imperium'... this is absolutely drivel!" She spat out as she could bear it no more. |
||
| + | Kaede rushed a hand to her mouth as she almost snorted with laughter. |
||
| − | "Since when has 'His Holiness' ever tended to his flock among the Lotharins? Since when has 'His Holiness' ever shielded us against the Imperium?" The lady professor shook the parchment in her hands as many of the students nodded in agreement. "And now this pope is excommunicating our Emperor from the Trinitian faith. It is nothing but a stab in the back in our time of crisis!" |
||
| + | At the same time she realized: if the Field Marshal, Pascal's father, was the one who picked Ariadne for the cultural exchange, then chances were he was the one who selected Pascal as well. |
||
| − | Hushed murmurs began across the hall as students asked about what would happen now. That was when Professor Albert stood up and applied the same sorcery to his throat and voice. |
||
| + | ''A father's love truly is difficult,'' she thought. |
||
| − | "Second, I regret to inform you all that tragedy has befell the Kingdom of Weichsel." He declared to the students. "On this morning, during a trip out to inspect the troops rallying outside the capital of Königsfeld, Field Marshal Sir Karl August von Moltewitz..." |
||
| + | Meanwhile Ariadne retorted with a blush: "That's not at all why I picked him!" |
||
| − | Kaede could feel the hammer that knocked the air out from her lungs. |
||
| + | "No. No. You're getting power, wealth, ''and'' love. The impossible triangle!" Cecylia grinned. "Just be sure to bake plenty of little baguettes in that oven someday." She patted Ariadne's flat stomach. "Perceval is definitely the type to be a family man." She added before turning to Kaede as though looking for agreement. |
||
| − | "--Commanding Officer of the Weichsel Army and the Landgrave of Nordkreuz, plus twenty-eight staff members and bodyguards, were cowardly ambushed by ''Imperial'' assassins. Reinforcements from Königsfeld did not arrive in time to intercede, and the entire group has been confirmed dead." |
||
| + | The Samaran girl was still smiling when an uncomfortable thought entered her mind: |
||
| − | This time people didn't even try to stay silent. Conversations erupted across the dining hall like wildfire. Several students even stood up and shouted at Professor Albert: |
||
| + | ''Love relationships with a man...'' |
||
| − | "Will Weichsel still join us?" |
||
| + | It was hardly a topic that Kaede felt comfortable discussing, especially not if they lingered and the two girls grew interested in 'her tastes'. |
||
| − | "Will your King honor his word and obligations?" |
||
| + | "What about you, Cecylia? What are you aiming for? It sounds like you're career motivated?" |
||
| − | But Kaede had already stopped paying attention. |
||
| + | Kaede took the opportunity to change topics as she ate her last two slices of veal. She could swear at least four slices were missing, although that was still an acceptable price to pay for the adorable kittens whose furry tails continued to brush by every few seconds. |
||
| − | She only waited long enough not to be an embarrassment to Pascal in the eyes of the gathered nobles. He would need his dignity more than ever in the coming days. But the moment Professor Albert finished and the hall erupted into chaos, she pushed back her chair and began striding towards the entrance. |
||
| + | "Cecylia isn't an 'exchange student', unlike me and Pascal." Ariadne returned an appreciative look for coming to her rescue, which was an unintended bonus. "She graduated from Königsfeld last year and works in the Weichsen embassy in Alis Avern." |
||
| − | There was no way Pascal was coming here. |
||
| + | ''Same year as you and Pascal then.'' |
||
| − | In the back of her mind, Kaede also realized... |
||
| + | "I'm a member of the King's Black Eagles and a junior military attaché," Cecylia smiled. "My specialty is information control and public security." |
||
| − | This was the first time Pascal broke his word. |
||
| + | Kaede blinked. Her reading on Weichsel was considerably less than her research on Rhin-Lotharingie. However she remembered that the Black Eagles were the intelligence and special ops branch of the Weichsel military, who reported directly to the King. Combining that with Cecylia's claims about her specialty... |
||
| + | ''In other words, you're a propagandist.'' Kaede realized. |
||
| − | ... |
||
| + | "She's also a foreign culture expert. I could have sworn her crosses turned into glittering stars when I first told her about you Kaede," Ariadne joked. |
||
| + | "Then you're a..." |
||
| − | Pascal was not in his dorm room. |
||
| + | Kaede struggled to find a better word. However Cecylia wasn't the slightest bit shy about what she did. |
||
| − | Kaede thought it was unfair that he could always figure out where she was, but not the other way around. Only then did she finally remember the telepathy channel. She had been subconsciously avoiding it. In this kind of situation, its use felt like cheating. |
||
| + | "I'm a spy. Yep!" She declared with a grin. "It's not all cloak and dagger, you know. In fact, the Lotharins know exactly what I do. I analyze the information we see and hear from them, and then send it back to Weichsel for the King. I think my ultimate goal can be either spymaster or ambassador. One gets to know all the juicy bits and help nudge the country along the right path. Meanwhile the other gets to enjoy the high life while receiving all sorts of benefits." |
||
| − | But it was still better than not being there. |
||
| + | ''A counter-propagandist then.'' Kaede fixed her initial impression. She had a feeling that she and Cecylia would get along just fine, despite the latter's more... eccentric tendencies. |
||
| − | "<Where are you?>" |
||
| + | "But really, Aria, can you blame me for getting excited?" Cecylia turned towards her friend. "It's not everyday that one gets to meet a Samaran, and one from another world at that! Sure, I've met a few Samarans before -- actual Samarans and not just average humans from the Grand Republic. But most of them are so tight-lipped that you can barely get anything out of them." |
||
| − | She didn't even bother to ask 'are you alright'. That would have been purely insensitive. There was no way he could be fine after his father's death. Whatever odd 'daddy issues' Pascal had, there was also no doubt that he only spoke the word 'father' with reverence and respect. |
||
| + | ''Probably because they don't feel safe outside Samara,'' Kaede reflected upon all the accounts of trafficking that she had read. |
||
| − | "<On the roof.>" |
||
| + | "What are they like?" She couldn't help but feel curious. "I've never actually met a Samaran before. They don't exist in the world where I come from." |
||
| − | Pascal's mental voice could not be any more monotoned. |
||
| + | Ariadne looked noticeably shocked by this. But Cecylia took it in stride: |
||
| − | Kaede climbed up three more flights of stairs, before she emerged onto the rooftop to find Pascal standing in the middle of the gently falling snow. His hardened turquoise gaze did not turn. He continued to watch the far-side battlements and the indigo gas giant draped over the horizon. |
||
| + | "Well, you have met yourself!" |
||
| − | A noticeable layer of snowflakes had already accumulated on his broad, uniformed shoulders. It felt almost like the morning after she came to this world, had their roles been reversed. |
||
| + | "Ha-ha." Kaede gave a fake laugh. "No seriously. I wake up and find myself reborn as a Samaran, yet I don't know a thing about what Samarans are like, how I'm supposed to behave, et cetera." |
||
| − | Kaede tentatively took her first step towards Pascal. She was uncertain of what she should do, what she ''could'' do. |
||
| + | "Wellll," Cecylia tilted her head and cutely pressed a finger into her cheeks. "I can only give you my basic impression of them, plus some of the things I've heard from the other Black Eagles. Though since I've never had a mission in the Grand Republic, I don't have access to the full packet of information on them." |
||
| − | "Sorry about..." |
||
| + | ''Not that you'd share with me even if you did.'' Kaede thought. |
||
| − | "You don't need to apologize." She stopped his dry words. |
||
| + | She knew what it was like to work with those in intelligence. She had a brother-in-law who did so. He was the only man Kaede knew who never touched a drop of alcohol, and who was so tight-tipped one could barely get a word about work out of him. |
||
| − | Kaede knew perfectly well why he did not join her at the dining hall. Once he entered it, there was no way for him to leave with dignity until he finished his meal. It would be an entire hour spent under the gaze of hundreds, whose eyes were pitying at best and accusing at worst. He would have to spend a full dinner listening to people's sympathies, regardless of whether they sincerely bared their hearts or merely paid lip service before voicing their demands for Weichsel's action... |
||
| + | "It's still more than I have," she then shrugged. |
||
| − | Neither of those would be something Pascal's pride could handle, not in this delicate moment when his mask was most brittle. |
||
| + | "So among the Black Eagles, the most often-said trait about Samarans... is that they're prudes." Cecylia giggled before her schoolgirl soprano deepened in a remarkably good imitation of a male voice: "''Never try to seduce one'', they say. ''You're more likely to bed my great-grandmother.''" |
||
| − | "I am fine, rea..." |
||
| + | "That can't be right," Kaede thought aloud. "Samarans must still feel attraction." |
||
| − | "You don't have to hold it in." Her soft voice interrupted him again. |
||
| + | "Ohhhhh? So who are you attracted to?" Cecylia scurried forward playfully until her knees were almost touching Kaede's. |
||
| − | Silence returned to the rooftop once more, disrupted only by her quiet footsteps as his statue continued to gaze upon the distant planet. His stilled, half-turned eyes reflected the dim light of the heavens as hardened turquoise softened into glass. |
||
| + | Kaede could feel the fire that spontaneously erupted in her cheeks. "That's not what I meant. I mean..." She rushed to find an excuse. "They still have kids, don't they? All biological species feel attraction. Otherwise they'd have long gone extinct." |
||
| − | Then, as Kaede took her last step behind him, she reached around with both of her thin arms and wrapped them across his lower chest. At that moment, Pascal's deep, anguished voice finally shattered the last vestige of peace: |
||
| + | ''Even pandas get in the mood... eventually,'' she thought back to how researchers used panda porn to encourage breeding, which her father couldn't stop laughing about. |
||
| − | "I ''warned'' him..." |
||
| + | It made her feel a little homesick. |
||
| − | Kaede kept her silence as she leaned her head into him. She hoped, ''prayed'' that their bond, the empathic link she cursed so many times, would give Pascal the emotional support he badly needed. |
||
| + | "That's why I hear that even in the Grand Republic, Samarans are kind of... rare." Cecylia shrugged. "I don't know the real reason. But the gist of what I hear is that Samarans just aren't particularly interested in anything sexual, even though they take relationships very, very seriously." |
||
| − | "Given what Reynaud said about the Mantis Blades, I told him, TOLD HIM, that after their attempt on my head, he was in serious, grave danger as the logical next target. That IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS he should ''immediately'' discontinue his habitual personal visits to individual army camps for the coming months, ''at least'' until the Weichsel army is fully engaged in the war and the Imperium has missed its window of opportunity... but when does he EVER listen to me...!?" |
||
| + | "What do you mean by that?" Kaede felt her curiosity grow. |
||
| − | It wasn't entirely fair. Kaede stood certain that had Pascal received a similar warning in that same position, he probably would not have altered his habits either. Generals did not succumb to fear over the mere likelihood of danger. They certainly did not alter schedules and change routines with ease -- which would clearly announce their fright to their soldiers. |
||
| + | "They say a Samaran will never forget anything you did for them. And no matter how long it's been, they'll always repay the favor in kind. Apparently they believe in this concept called 'karma', and that every good deed should be repaid." |
||
| − | Besides, had the elder von Moltewitz stopped his visits, how long must he cower under the threat of assassins? As the Marshal of Weichsel, every enemy of the state wanted him dead on a daily basis. |
||
| + | Kaede smiled. Buddhism ranked high on the list of Earth religions she had been attracted to for precisely this reason. |
||
| − | The thin line between courage in the face of danger and recklessness could only be seen in hindsight. Yet it was the willingness of commanders brave enough to tip that line that gained them the trust, admiration, and loyalty of their troops. |
||
| + | "Is that the reason why the Grand Republic sent aid to the Lotharins during the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War?" She asked. |
||
| − | But this was no time for Kaede to wax philosophy. |
||
| + | Cecylia looked taken aback. She exchanged a glance with Ariadne. |
||
| − | She could only hold back her thoughts as Pascal's voice grew hoarse: |
||
| + | "I told you she was a quick study for books," the lady knight grinned. |
||
| − | "--NO! Of course not! I am just the immature son whom he did not entrust with an independent command and sent off to Rhin-Lotharingie!" |
||
| + | "Yes, actually." Cecylia nodded as her gaze returned to Kaede. "If there's one thing one could say about the Grand Republic, it's that any diplomatic relationship with them is ''extremely'' predictable, almost painfully so. You can't just go on a charm offensive and hope they'll like you. You have to actually build relations with them over time. During the Great Northern War five centuries ago when the Great Khan invaded Samara from the east, there was an Oriflamme Paladin named Leslie who led his band into Samara and lent them his services as a mercenary. The Samarans remembered this even three centuries later and repaid the aid in spades." |
||
| − | Pascal did not cry out when she knocked out two of his teeth and broke three of his ribs on this spot. He did not complain once about pain after his left arm was mangled by assassins, a feat even Reynaud respected in the redhead's exaggerated storytelling. Nor did he flinch when he faced the most humiliating moments of his life, apologizing to Perceval and Ariadne over years of regret on this very rooftop. |
||
| + | ''Does that mean the Mongols' invasion of Russia failed in this world?'' Kaede couldn't help ponder. ''Though Samaran foreign policy sounds more like... China's, obsessed with history.'' |
||
| − | It wasn't even a matter of masculine pride. The man was born and raised to be a soldier, a commander, a leader. |
||
| + | "Aria told me you found our world fascinating, though I'm a bit surprised by how quickly you're learning." Cecylia gave an encouraging smile. "So how similar is your world compared to ours? Other than the part where your humanity never received the gift of magic from the dragonlords?" |
||
| − | He was simply ''not allowed'' to falter, to ever show weakness. |
||
| + | "By 'dragonlords', you mean..." |
||
| − | He ''must'' be confident and assured at all times, never to reveal a single doubt towards the inevitability of victory. |
||
| + | "Yes, I speak of the dragons that descended upon Hyperion roughly four thousand years ago, and departed at the end of the Dragon Age." Cecylia added. "We call them 'dragonlords' out of respect. After all, they protected our tribal ancestors during the Dragon-Demon Wars, not to mention blessed our forefathers with the ability and knowledge to shape magic. This is especially the case for the Dragonlord Hyperion -- the son of the Holy Father whom ended the Dragon-Demon Wars." |
||
| − | Yet under the distant glittering starlight, basked in the glow from the indigo planet, Kaede watched as a shining stream of tears slid down his half-turned cheeks. |
||
| + | Kaede had to blink several times as she took all that in. She had been too focused on learning about the civilized history of this world, as opposed to the ancient history that, at least back on Earth, were more appropriate to anthropologists than historians. She had encountered mentions of the dragons during her reading, but they were mostly in passing as she had never focused her research on the topic. |
||
| − | But his next words -- spoken as unforgiving as the arctic cold -- almost made her own heart freeze: |
||
| + | "The world I came from had dragons also, but only in myths and legends," the Samaran girl replied. |
||
| − | "I should have returned in person earlier! I should have joined him ''personally!''" |
||
| + | "Well, they're certainly not limited to myths or legends here," Cecylia grinned. "The legacy of the dragonlords is well researched and documented, from battlefield remains to the artifacts they've left behind." |
||
| − | Survivor's guilt was renowned enough that she recognized it instantly. |
||
| + | ''Clearly, I should pay more attention to the 'prehistory' of this world.'' Kaede made a mental note to herself before returning to topic. |
||
| − | "Don't be ridiculous Pascal. Your father undoubtedly took some of his best bodyguards. They must have faced at least several Mantis Blade squads, if not additional mercenaries. ''How'' could you have done what they couldn't!?" |
||
| + | "But aside from magic, I'd say this world and mine are extremely similar? In fact, Hyperion feels like what my world might have been if neither the Roman Empire -- who conquered most of the Western World just like your Inner Sea Imperium -- nor the Catholic Church underwent schism. So instead of a long, slow decline, our version of the Imperium collapsed within a few centuries and lead to the 'Dark Ages' on the European continent." |
||
| − | Kaede knew that she was no psychiatrist, but Pascal was also a bastion of logic and willful integrity. She did not need to debate such points with him. |
||
| + | In later hindsight, Kaede was surprised by how easily her words rushed out, even though this was their first meeting. But after being nearly stripped and bitten by Cecylia, delving into deep discussions felt almost... casual. |
||
| − | "But... but..." |
||
| + | "Let me start closer to here and run nation by nation: Rhin-Lotharingie is like Celtic Gaul and Celtic Britain smushed together, except in my world the Romans' Celtic Holocaust basically wiped out their culture. The Empire as it stands now, however, reminds me of my world's Frankish Empire under the Carolingians, except without the Gavelkind succession which later tore them asunder..." |
||
| − | All she needed to do was point out the obvious, then let him argue it out with himself. |
||
| + | "Gavelkind?" |
||
| − | "But... he was... the only family I had left..." |
||
| + | Cecylia cut her off almost instantly, a tribute to the girl's sheer mental processing speed even as she absorbed information that was literally out-of-this-world. |
||
| − | Kaede could feel Pascal's tears streaming down through his broken voice. |
||
| + | "It's a succession law where the father's realm and assets is split up between all of his sons. My world's history is rather patriarchal." Kaede noted with an apologetic shrug towards the two ladies. |
||
| − | She didn't say anything. She didn't even know ''what'' to say. All she did was bury her own tear-stained cheeks into his back and tighten her arms around his chest. |
||
| + | "Since your world didn't have magic, it would certainly be much harder for women to match the men in any contest of power or strength," Ariadne commented as though she wasn't surprised. "The duties of nobility always began with military leadership, and if women can't match up on the battlefield then they automatically forfeit such positions of power." |
||
| − | She knew his mother had died early. But in hindsight, if Pascal had been raised by servants, then his extended family must have been lacking as well. |
||
| + | "That's likely among the reasons, and certainly one of the more apparent differences." Kaede nodded as she pondered. "Though from a worldly perspective, I'd say the biggest difference between this world and mine is that nation-states changed a lot more in my world, with far more division and fragmentation. France and Germany. Eastern and Western Roman Empire. Caliphates of Cordoba and Baghdad. Even the Churches of Rome, Constantinople, and Alexandria." |
||
| − | Her borrowed genealogy references did mention that Pascal's father Karl was also an only son. His parents, or Pascal's paternal grandparents, were minor gentry displaced by political fallout from the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War and fallen to yeomanry. The name 'Moltewitz' was Karl's own creation, by merging a family surname prefix to the clan name suffix of his Weichsel bride. |
||
| + | She had a feeling that one of the reasons was because mages lived far longer. But that only meant Hyperion's history 'slowed down' compared to that of Europe on Earth. It didn't explain some of the more dramatic differences, like the fact there were almost no 'small states'. Even the Kingdom of Weichsel -- a comparatively 'minor power' in Hyperion -- came in a size that would make Prussian King Frederick the Great proud. |
||
| − | Pascal and Kaede had a brief discussion over it once. But he never mentioned his mother's side, even though plenty of his maternal relations should still be alive... |
||
| + | "Well, distance is a problem when it comes to administration of large realms. So it's easy to break down into smaller state entities," Cecylia suggested as a possible cause. "What did you use for communications? Without magic you wouldn't have access to our ''Farspeak'' spell to instantly relay information across thousands of kilopaces." |
||
| − | "Y-your mother's family?" Kaede was almost afraid to ask. |
||
| + | "Uhhh... back then? Horse and rider? Mail by pigeon? It took a ''long time'' to get messages across any empire, at least until we invented the telegraph which ran on electricity... lightning-power." Kaede noted. |
||
| − | Pascal didn't answer. |
||
| + | "Well that's the problem," Cecylia pointed out. "You can't govern an empire effectively if messages take a month to reach the emperor and another to return. We don't even need a device that catches lightning to send messages. A ''Farspeak'' spell can be cast within minutes and allows you to converse with any mage that you've met once in person." |
||
| − | He only began after his voice finally regained a fragment of its composure: |
||
| + | ''First gunpowder, now this.'' |
||
| − | "Father's relationship with Mother's side of the family deteriorated after she died. A Northmen invasion after that laid waste to my maternal grandparents' estate, and everyone blamed ''him'' for not sending reinforcements fast enough. They accused father of delaying aid over a personal grudge, even though half the coast was under attack and he ''couldn't'' just blatantly favor his own family..." |
||
| + | It was beginning to sink in just how truly world-altering magic was. Not only did it shift the development paths of technology, it also changed the rules of how human institutions behaved. |
||
| − | There was no need to explain what happened after that. |
||
| − | Everyone always expected leaders to be accomplished in everything, to be perfect and superhuman, to flawlessly address every need. In turn, those with responsibility were blamed and accused and reviled and criticized over every cent of error, even as they juggled the pros and cons of every decision, agonized over every sacrifice they made for a strategic victory -- for the 'greater good'. |
||
| − | After all, there was no point to winning the battle and losing the war. Yet in sacrificing a pawn to assure victory across the board, a leader could only cut off a part of themselves. |
||
| + | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
||
| − | For some, that meant their flesh and blood. |
||
| − | For others, their heart and soul. |
||
| − | Perhaps that was part of why history had precious few enlightened absolutists, overshadowed by hordes of greedy and cruel tyrants who had lost their humanity. Contrary to popular claims, what didn't kill us didn't necessarily make us stronger. It merely stripped the 'soft' part of humanity from us. |
||
| + | "How did your night go?" Pascal asked Kaede at brunch the next day as she sat down next to him. |
||
| − | Nevertheless, Pascal was doomed to face the worst of it, for nothing accentuated the contradiction in human decision-making more than the realm of military strategy. |
||
| + | "Pretty well." |
||
| − | In that moment under the sky, the stars, and the gas giant 'moon', Kaede finally realized the core of Pascal's being: |
||
| + | Kaede and Cecylia ended up comparing the cultural and geopolitical evolution of the two worlds late into the night. Even with the dhampir's earlier behavior lingering in her mind, Kaede found herself quickly warming up to Cecylia thanks to their mutual interests. |
||
| − | Why he was confident, arrogant, and intolerant. |
||
| + | Cecylia then left first thing this morning. She didn't even wait for breakfast and simply took a few pastries from the kitchens. Her departing words to Pascal and Ariadne was somewhat ominous though: |
||
| − | Why he expected the best from everyone, only to lay scorn upon those who could not meet his demands. |
||
| + | "Remember what I told you last night -- prepare yourselves." |
||
| − | It was because he expected the same qualities from himself. |
||
| + | The two of them pressed her for answers on what for. However all the dhampir girl would say was a cryptic "hopefully nothing, but possibly everything". |
||
| − | It was his wish to be 'perfect' in his worldly role. To not merely rise beyond the renown of his father, but to achieve what his father could not. |
||
| + | It really reminded Kaede that despite how outgoing Cecylia seemed, she was still a keeper of secrets. |
||
| − | Losses may be inevitable in war, but he would at least seek to win them without 'sacrifice'. |
||
| + | After Cecylia left, Kaede decided that she owed Ariadne an apology. The lady who epitomized nobility spoke little most of the night and simply kept up her gentle smile. Engrossed in their discussion, Kaede did not notice until after the fact. |
||
| − | Yet no floor was smooth from the cut of a single tile. No rope could hold from the strength of only one strand. And just the same, no general could win 'perfect' victories without staffers, lieutenants, and even soldiers of the highest quality. |
||
| + | Ariadne's response had been a truly affectionate "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You needed it after the last few days." |
||
| − | In seeking his 'perfection', Pascal inadvertently created his greatest flaw: even though he had the charisma to persuade and intimidate, his social skills were abysmal because he lacked ''empathy'' -- the ability to not just understand, but anticipate the needs of others. |
||
| + | It made Kaede feel unworthy of befriending such a wonderful person. |
||
| − | It also happened to be a skill that Kaede had plenty of experience in. |
||
| + | "Morning Gerard!" |
||
| − | This was why he summoned her. For without friends, no leader could stay in the light. Not even an aspiring one. |
||
| + | Perceval's friendly call brought Kaede back from her thoughts. |
||
| − | Kaede's decision turned out to be remarkably easy. |
||
| + | "Hello Perceval. Clearly, I must have missed something ''big'' if the Runelord is sitting next to you." |
||
| − | It was less than an hour ago when she read her certificate of residency. Now, it felt as though a lifetime had passed. But within it was one line of words she would ''never'' forget: |
||
| + | "The Holy Father does his work in mysterious ways," Perceval smiled back. "Pascal I don't need to introduce. This is Kaede..." |
||
| − | "''Kaede Nikita Konstantinovich Suvorsky, member to the noble household of Sir Karl August von Moltewitz''..." |
||
| + | "The famous familiar girl, I recognized." |
||
| − | That household now belonged to Pascal. |
||
| + | Gerard nodded towards Pascal while giving Kaede a slight bow: |
||
| − | "You're wrong about one thing, Pascal." |
||
| + | "I'm Gerard Fournier. Pleasure to meet you." |
||
| − | Still embracing him tightly, Kaede's wispy voice came muffled by the proximity of his uniform jacket. It was barely more than a whisper, yet its content rang clearly in the silence between them: |
||
| + | Gerard was easily the tallest of the group, as his height was at least a few finger-widths higher than either Pascal or Perceval. His short, straight hair was black. His firm eyes were ash-blue. Below them, his hard, chiseled chin and a slightly tall, Balkan nose dominated his image. He wore a loose fitting tunic and a jacket over it, both of which looked too plain for a noble. However despite his lax clothing, it was clear that his body held an incredibly firm musculature. Tough and well-built, but no steroids monster either. |
||
| − | "No one will ever replace your father, but he's not the only family you have left." |
||
| + | "Ah... nice to meet you as well." |
||
| − | Pascal didn't say a word as he brought his own arms up, covering her small, chilled hands with the warmth of his palms as she continued. |
||
| + | "Fournier?" Pascal puzzled. "I don't recognize that name." |
||
| − | "I'm sure the people of your estate, those who watched you grow up and raised you, all consider you part of the same family." |
||
| + | "My parents are bakers." Gerard shrugged before his voice hardened. "Yeomen, lower middle class. Perceval was the one who sponsored my attendance here. You have a problem with it?" |
||
| − | She also thought of his fiancée Sylviane. But having never met the other side of their political betrothal, she couldn't be sure of the princess' intentions. Not to mention that for the first time, she felt... odd, to bring up the name of his betrothed. |
||
| + | "I did not know Alisia Academy had a patron program?" Pascal asked. However even his casual voice sounded haughty and was definitely rubbing Gerard the wrong way. |
||
| − | Kaede paused for a few more seconds as she reviewed her decision. She knew exactly how critical this moment was, and she would neither tarnish it with false promises, nor soil it with ambiguous misunderstandings. |
||
| + | "It's not a program." Perceval explained. "Reynaud introduced him to me. Apparently they met through his parents' bakery." |
||
| − | "Even more than that, you have me... I can't promise I'll always be here. I can't swear I won't dream of my old life and world. But I ''will'' always be your familiar. I ''will'' always be your family. And so long as I remain on this world, I will support you to the best of my abilities..." |
||
| + | "He makes the most adorable animal bread, presented in beautiful confection houses." Reynaud grinned. "When I asked him how, he started telling me about how the dough needed just the right mix and had to be set just right so they'd expand in a certain way, yadda yadda. The rest went over my head." |
||
| − | This was her declaration, her solemn pledge. |
||
| + | "Like I've told you -- baking is a science." Gerard insisted. |
||
| − | Families could still separate, grow apart. But even in the unlikely chance Kaede ever discovered how to return to her world, they would still be master and familiar, still try to remain part of each others' lives. |
||
| + | "Which is precisely why I didn't get it." Reynaud remained smiling as he patted the back of the man who was over a head taller than him. "I mean do you ever see me reading a science book? Or any book?" |
||
| − | Hyperion was no longer merely an endless dream or nightmare. She would finally, truly embrace it as her ''reality''. |
||
| − | "You |
+ | "You read map books." Perceval interjected. |
| + | "Yeah, well, those are fun. Seeing all the places I can go to? Tickles the imagination." |
||
| − | Pascal's large hands wrapped around her own, and gripped hers with firm determination. His gaze, however, never left the distant horizon. |
||
| + | "I still do not see how baking has any connection with this academy." |
||
| − | "Thank you. That is more than I could ever ask for." |
||
| + | Pascal's comment made Kaede want to slam her head into the table. ''You've just made new friends! Don't ruin it already!'' |
||
| + | Thankfully, Perceval addressed the issue as he explained with pride in his voice: |
||
| + | "Gerard ranked sixth on the entry assessment exam for his year. He is now the best among his class of 4th year civil engineers. Only reason he returned late is because of his internship with the Ministry of Land and Resources in the capital." |
||
| − | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
||
| + | "Impressive." Pascal's attitude switch was instantaneous, even if his tone was not. |
||
| + | "<Would it hurt you to show your admiration a little more in your public voice?>" Kaede prodded over telepathy, which Pascal utterly ignored. |
||
| + | Gerard shrugged, his blank expression seemingly not caring: |
||
| − | Two hours later, as Pascal laid down next to Kaede and pulled up the bedcovers as usual... |
||
| + | "You may think as you like. Most nobles here only put up with me thanks to Perceval and Ariadne." |
||
| − | The overhead light was still on as he turned towards her. His gaze pulled in her rose-quartz eyes as she did likewise. |
||
| + | "Most nobles here are ''incompetent''." Pascal clarified as his turquoise gaze swept the dining hall. "Birth, standing, prestige, none of those matter. Intellect, resolve, and the skills it brings are what counts." |
||
| − | "What is it?" Kaede smiled back at him. |
||
| + | Apart from Kaede, everyone else looked back at Pascal with some shade of surprise. |
||
| − | Her countenance was serene. Her visage was beautiful. From her long silky hair, to the thinly-curled lashes above caring eyes still tinged with a trace of worry, to her small nose and cute lips... |
||
| + | "I was just talking to my father the other day about the 'Imperial Examination System' that Kaede spoke of from her memories, which could elevate the poorest civilian to important officials of state. The performance bottleneck to the Weichsen army's Mobility Doctrine has always been a limit of capable officers, as commanders in the field must be able to think and act independently according to circumstance instead of waiting for orders. Father told me to draft him a formal proposal on how we could apply a standardized testing and scholarship system for promising cadets. When you mentioned patronage I wondered if Rhin-Lotharingie was already ahead of Weichsel in this." |
||
| − | She was angelic. |
||
| + | Kaede smiled a little. She wasn't sure where this world's version of China was. Probably the 'Dawn Imperium' that sat as the other superpower in the far east. However she was certain they wouldn't mind her plagiarizing their 2,000 year tradition of meritocracy. |
||
| − | Pascal was sure, for the second time, that he was staring at his personal guardian angel. |
||
| + | By the end of Pascal's speech, Gerard stood in awe with his mouth ajar. |
||
| − | How else could all the changes to his life in the past few weeks be explained? |
||
| + | "The Marshal of Weichsel is interested in this?" he asked, almost in disbelief. |
||
| − | Yet never before has he needed the blessing of another as much as tonight: |
||
| + | Pascal nodded back, his stiff gaze confirming: |
||
| − | "I once told you that I would never touch you while sleeping without consent, but... may I hold on to you while we sleep?" |
||
| + | "Why is this a surprise? Weichsel's military ''is'' a meritocracy. The enemy will not care about how famous your family is." |
||
| − | Her flawless white skin immediately flushed seven shades of scarlet. |
||
| + | "Yet your enemies will always recognize your family name." Gerard countered in a flat voice. "You can't get promoted if your superiors don't remember your name to match your deeds. And if you don't think there's a noble preference there then you've been blinded by your own experience. Still, better some opportunity than none." |
||
| − | Pascal knew he was being unfair to ask on such a night, especially after what just happened. But Kaede voiced none of her reluctance. Shyly pulling the covers up a little further, she returned two small but firm nods. |
||
| + | Gerard then pulled out a seat right across from Pascal and sat down. |
||
| − | ''She's just way too cute.'' |
||
| + | "I'll be happy to give you some ''proper'' perspective from a lowborn." |
||
| − | He carefully wrapped his arms around her before slowly pulling her closer, as though afraid to break a delicate gem. |
||
| − | |||
| − | He could almost feel her heartbeat quicken and her cheeks burning as he held her soft body against the firm musculature of his arms and chest. His right hand then reach behind her head, gently stroking her silky long hair as he tried to calm her back down. |
||
| − | |||
| − | ''...Too huggable as well.'' |
||
| − | |||
| − | Pascal closed the last remaining distance between them, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. |
||
| − | |||
| − | "Thank you, and good night." |
||
| − | |||
| − | She never resisted, never recoiled, never even voiced the slightest sound of objection. |
||
| − | |||
| − | Pascal held onto Kaede until her breathing evened out, until she had drifted away under the rhythmic stroking of her long hair. It was the first time he noticed her falling asleep before him. |
||
| − | |||
| − | It was her way of expressing how truly she had accepted him. |
||
| − | |||
| − | After his loneliness finally subsided, Pascal couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty for forcing her into it. He carefully -- with a bit of magical help -- extracted his arms from her, and settled for just holding onto her hand. |
||
| Line 533: | Line 479: | ||
| + | Surrounded by other acquaintances, Perceval's group broke to separate conversations as they enjoyed their meal. Kaede was introduced to nearly two dozen other noble acquaintances who sat nearby, although none of them spoke another word to her afterwards. She quickly realized that Gerard's situation was milder but somewhat similar to her own, patronage or not. |
||
| − | It was not until hours later, late into the night, when a still-wide-awake Pascal felt the pinging sensation of an incoming ''Farspeak'' spell. |
||
| − | |||
| − | ''Farspeak'' calls had a range and reliability unmatched by conventional ''Telepathy''. But it also had glaring weaknesses: each person may only join one such link, and both users must concentrate to keep the channel open. Furthermore, the spell not only took minutes to cast but could also be easily missed if one wasn't paying attention. |
||
| − | |||
| − | Pascal's mind soon visualized the source: it was from his fiancée. The first time in weeks that she was willing to speak to him. |
||
| + | In the eyes of most highborns, the two of them were seen as little more than servants who shadowed their master's footsteps. |
||
| − | He rushed, mentally of course, to open up the channel from his receiving end. Yet for nearly a minute, silence reigned across the channel as neither he nor Sylviane spoke. |
||
| + | Unfortunately, Kaede did not receive much of a chance to consult her senior. Gerard spent almost the entire meal digging details out of Pascal, much to the annoyance of other nearby nobles who saw an easy opportunity to approach the Runelord. |
||
| − | Pascal was anxious. However it was common courtesy to allow the caller to speak first, especially after they had already spent minutes casting the spell. |
||
| + | It soon became apparent that most of the other peers who surrounded Perceval were not like-minded individuals. His affable demeanor and generous personality did make him easy to befriend. However, Kaede was fairly certain that Perceval's family heritage probably wasn't any lower than that of Ariadne's. In fact, she was fairly certain that one of the Paladins who fought during the Independence War carried his family name of 'La Tours'. |
||
| − | Then, her message began with only three sorrowful words: |
||
| + | Personal politics and alliance-building worked the same way no matter where one went, especially among junior aristocrats. This was particularly true for those sociable enough to begin a snowball effect: the more acquaintances a high society circle gathered, the harder it became to refuse or ignore them. |
||
| − | "<Pascal. I'm sorry.>" |
||
| + | Regardless, the same patterns of conversation kept up for the next two days. The only difference was that Pascal began to draft his idea for a 'scholarship examination' system. He solicited suggestions from those around him, and sent an evil eye to any noble who scoffed at the proposal. Both Kaede and Gerard were only too happy to pitch in, and soon Pascal had what he considered his 'initial draft'. |
||
| − | It was the one opening that Pascal did not know how to respond to. Should he offer to take the blame for their last call, or should he accept her sympathy? |
||
| + | When Kaede asked how many drafts he usually went through, Pascal answered: "as many as it takes until I am satisfied." |
||
| − | He was about to choose option one -- better safe than sorry -- when a second line soon arrived on the heels of the first: |
||
| + | She couldn't decide if this was due to his perfectionist tendencies or his father's strictness. Probably some of both. |
||
| − | "<I've just returned to the palace in Alis Avern today. I've been busy with official business but... I want to see you tomorrow. I ''want'' to talk to you...>" |
||
| + | Pascal might have made more progress if he also used his time with Kaede back in the dormitories to work on the proposal. Instead, he spent almost all of that time inscribing new runestones and infusing mana into newly cut gemstones. Half of the reason was because Kaede had expended a significant portion of his rune stockpile to lay her trap for the assassins. The other half was because of Cecylia's cryptic warnings. |
||
| − | "<Of course. I will come.>" |
||
| + | And so, the week after the assassination attempt passed in a peaceful school setting... at least until Saturday's lunchtime when the entire hall was disrupted. |
||
| − | Pascal was a fast thinker when he needed to be, but he was still not quick enough. Before he could even expand his phrase into a proper response, she had slipped him a quiet, third communique: |
||
| + | At the time, Kaede was watching Pascal and Gerard have another conversation, when a 4th year military cadet who wore their blue gambeson uniform rushed in from the hallway: |
||
| − | "<nowiki><I</nowiki> missed you.>" |
||
| + | "WAR! WAR!" He yelled at the top of his lungs before stopping just inside the entrance to catch his breath. |
||
| − | Then the link cut off. |
||
| + | All chatter in the dining hall died instantly as everyone awaited his explanation: |
||
| − | Even if it didn't, it would have taken Pascal at least a moment to recover from that. |
||
| + | "THE CATALIYAN CALIPHATE HAS DECLARED HOLY WAR AGAINST US! Their armies have already crossed the border!" |
||
| − | Three simple words, spoken in a shy, almost embarrassed voice, yet drowned in a mixture of exhaustion and longing that Sylviane had never expressed. |
||
| + | The entire dining hall erupted back into loud, chaotic conversations. Some voices were worried, others anxious, and a few just plain scared. |
||
| − | He always believed that at least part of his interest towards her was because their personalities were peas from the same pod, even if she was far more approachable and friendly. However his fiancée made one error in judgment. |
||
| + | Pascal was one of the few who completely kept his cool. |
||
| − | After the news of recent days, Pascal knew exactly why she had returned to Alis Avern. She was now the crown heir of an empire at war, an empire now endangered by the potential abandonment of their only ally. |
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| + | "Well, at least this answers the riddle of why the Holy Imperium suddenly wants me dead." |
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| − | Pascal's first order of business upon daybreak now stood clear: he must travel to Alis Avern and join his betrothed. He must show solidity with her as the new Landgrave of Nordkreuz. Their alliance was his father's greatest legacy, and he would fight tooth and nail to see it fulfilled. |
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| + | Most of Perceval's close friends nodded back in agreement, their expressions varying between alarm and apprehension. |
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| − | History might only remember the Caliphate's declaration of Holy War from days ago as the ignition point for the chaos that would sweep the continent. But for Pascal Kay Lennart von Moltewitz, it was tonight when the war truly began. |
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| + | None of them appreciated the frightening implications of being simultaneously hostile to the two largest powers of the Western World. |
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| − | And it would not stop until all of Hyperion lay changed. |
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| − | | Forward to [[Daybreak: |
+ | | Forward to [[Daybreak:Volume_1_Chapter_14|Chapter 14]] |
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Latest revision as of 20:57, 27 February 2022
Chapter 13 - A World of Difference[edit]
Kaede spent most of the next two days in bed, skipping even mealtime trips to the dining hall. Thankfully, Pascal brought her a tray of aristocratic food back every time. Even better, he told her that Perceval started inviting him over to join Ariadne, Reynaud, and others during meals, so she didn't even have to feel bad about leaving him to eat alone again.
Although he would have deserved it, as all of her discomfort for the past days could be explained as 'his fault'.
By Wednesday afternoon however, her menstrual cramps had lessened enough for her to effectively concentrate on other things. Kaede only missed dinner due to being completely engrossed in her book on Rhin-Lotharingie history:
The Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie was forged only 256 years ago, making it the youngest nation in Western Hyperion by far. It was created after Charles the Bold united the twelve Oriflamme Paladins and led the first successful Lotharin revolt against the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea. The rebellion culminated in the Fifth Alisia Campaign, where Charles outmaneuvered the Imperium's northern field army and destroyed a total of twelve Imperial Legions. After that, the rebellion grew like wildfire as the various Lotharin tribes, long discontent over the Imperium's efforts to impose their cultural and religious values, united under Charles' banner in the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War.
If first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try again, Kaede thought with a wry smile.
It made for a good fable, to be certain. But she could only imagine the generational cost in blood and lives the Lotharins paid.
She also found it a bit ironic. Because after centuries of slow integration and conversion, the Lotharins were more like the Imperials than they would like to admit. Trinitian might not be the 'official' state religion of Rhin-Lotharingie, but it was pretty close as only pockets of the old gods held out.
Nevertheless, the Lotharins managed to carve out a 'National Myth' for themselves. This includes many heroes such as Charles the Bold, Douglas the Black, Gwendolyn the Faerie Sword, et cetera. The number twelve also took on a sacred significance in Lotharin historiography: the twelve Paladins, the twelve original tribes, the twelve weeks campaign that resulted in twelve shattered Legions... Which is almost certainly an exaggeration, Kaede thought.
The Lotharins would claim otherwise, as they had enshrined the twelve captured Legionary Eagles in their royal palace. But even an amateur historian like Kaede could see the signs. For example, the Lotharins took great pride in depicting how Charles' persistent appeals eventually united the squabbling tribes under a common banner of unity, which they claimed was the reason for the revolt's success. However that ignored the international factors which also played a decisive role. This included:
Arms sales from the Kingdom of Weichsel as it pulled away from the Imperial sphere of influence...
Money and military support from the Grand Republic of Samara, in repayment for the help they received from Leslie the Paladin over three hundred years ago during the Great Northern War...
...And last but certainly not the least, the Caliph's decision to launch the 1st Tauheed Holy War against the Imperium at the same time.
If Kaede hadn't cross-referenced the events between multiple historical sources, she might not even have realized. However such efforts were far beyond the scope of the average citizen, even if they read.
Magic or not, history is still written by the victor, Kaede thought. It was a fact of life she had long come to accept, but it still bothered her to think about. Just as it disturbed her when she first saw how, back in 1950, most of continental Europe agreed that it was the Soviet Union who played the greatest role in the defeat of Nazi Germany. Yet after seventy years and one Cold War, it was the Americans who raised themselves onto that pedestal.
Kaede's frown was soon abated when a mouthwatering scent wafted into the room. Except Pascal wasn't carrying anything as he strode into view.
"You are being invited to dinner, sort of. Ariadne is just outside the door."
His broad shoulders gave a noncommittal shrug, followed by a silent reminder as he saw how Kaede only wore an unbuttoned jacket over her undergarments.
"<You should get dressed properly first.>"
According to Pascal, Ariadne had mostly put away their past after her epic -- and publicly humiliating -- slap. But not hating his guts wasn't the same as being on good terms.
Kaede nodded back and rushed to put on her white pseudo-uniform, a task far simpler than with any of those dresses. She also stuffed two hot water pads into its belt pouches.
Pascal then stopped her before she could walk out. He took care to make sure her appearance was immaculate and wouldn't embarrass him before the noblest of ladies.
Two of them, as it turned out.
"Good evening Kaede. Thought you could use a little chat and company after two days." Ariadne's angelic smile radiated from just beyond the room's doorway, with a food tray hovering above one palm and the other hand waving at her. "My friend Cecylia is paying a visit from Alis Avern. Would you be interested in joining us?"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance." The petite girl who stood beside Ariadne's pink cascade beamed and waved energetically.
Kaede wasn't exactly in a mood to meet new people tonight, but this wasn't an offer she could refuse politely.
"The pleasure is mine," she tried her best to curtsy in return.
Cecylia was slightly taller than Kaede. She had fine, glossy black hair, trimmed short and pulled back by a white ribbon. Standing next to the mature and elegant Ariadne, she seemed almost fragile with her petite and thin figure, which only enhanced her undeniably cute appearance. Her small nose and lips lay under a pair of vibrant, dark-ruby eyes that held something odd about them, giving off a mysteriously alluring light. Her skin was fair to the point of bearing nearly a translucent silky sheen, which was accentuated by a black uniform similar to what Pascal wore. Except hers had no crimson stripes and came with a long, wide skirt instead of trousers.
As Kaede neared the doorway, she gasped and nearly tripped into a tray of wiener schnitzel and a steaming bowl of vegetable soup. She had just realized what that 'something odd' about Cecylia was:
Inside the round black pupils within her deep-red iris, Cecylia's eyes held tiny scarlet-red crosses.
The new girl's hands gently steadied Kaede as she looked back up. Her gaze was unerringly drawn to the depth of those eyes before she could pull back and glance away.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."
"Hehe, don't worry about it," Cecylia giggled in her schoolgirl soprano. "I'll explain when we get back to Aria's room."
She then turned towards Pascal while reaching for the doorknob:
"See you later Pascal! Don't worry, we'll take good care of her!"
Her cheery voice gave Kaede bit of a surprise, who mentally asked Pascal: "<Made a new friend already?>"
"Good night," Pascal bid before sending back a somewhat wistful response:
"<No. We spoke quite a bit before I fell out with Ariadne, then until today she mostly avoided me. Cecylia Renata von Falkenhausen is the third child of General Wiktor von Falkenhausen, my father's second-in-command. Since we are the same age, our fathers had us meet when we were six. She is actually the one who introduced me to Ariadne.>"
Bet your breakup came as a personal embarrassment for her then. Kaede thought as Cecylia took her hand and began pulling her down the hall with Ariadne following behind.
"<Be careful though. She likes to drag others to her pace before turning it back on them.>"
But rather than cautionary, Pascal sounded almost... admiring.
So Kaede wrote down another name on her mental list of people that Pascal actually respected.
...
The third-year girls' dorms were just one floor above, and Ariadne's room turned out to be... very feminine.
The bedsheets and curtains were in a soft pink that matched her hair, decorated by an abundance of white laces and frills. Frames of natural scenery on watercolor canvas decorated the walls, while a baby grand piano lay against the far corner.
This is definitely the room of a highborn lady.
Even before the door closed behind them, Kaede found herself greeted by a plump cat with lush white and gray fur. It laid down before Kaede and gazed at her through teal eyes before giving an adorable purr.
She knelt down to pet and stroke its wonderfully soft coat.
"Kaede, you might want to finish your dinner before getting too friendly with Ania," Ariadne suggested as she took the tray to the writing desk by the window. "She loves to steal food, and it's hard to keep watch on all of them."
"All of them?"
"Ania is a matryoshka cat from Samara." Cecylia watched with an amused grin. "She's also my familiar."
Kaede stood back up, puzzled.
"Matryoshka?"
Even as Kaede asked, Ania looked up, and another feline face, identical but slightly smaller, emerged from below her furry stomach. The smaller cat soon pulled herself out, laid down next to the larger Ania, and the process repeated itself.
Kaede soon found herself wide-eyed and speechless, surrounded by nine purring cats of decreasing size and plumpness.
"Are they... separate...?" she struggled to find the right words.
"They share the same psyche, as far as we know," Cecylia explained. "Matryoshka cats use shadow magic to make duplicates of themselves to scout for predators and trap prey. The largest one is always the main body, even though tapping its senses always feel like the smallest one is the primary.
"Speaking of eyes and ears, are you..."
"Not since I got annoyed with him and told him to stop. Pascal did promise not to intrude upon my senses without permission," Kaede answered as she wondered how many times she would have to explain this to people.
"Good!" Cecylia grinned. "Not that he's the voyeur type. But we don't need him to catch an eye-full during girls' night."
Oh... OH!
This must be the 'slumber party' guys are so intrigued over.
Kaede began to fidget just inside the entrance. Her cheeks heated up and her eyes glanced away as Cecylia wasted no time before starting to undress, with a set of black velvet pajamas with pink frills already laid out on the bed before her.
Ariadne was quick to notice as usual, soon commenting in her peaceful smile from the other side of the room:
"Cecylia, you're making our guest uncomfortable."
"Rules are rules: sleepwear only! No stupid layers of formality on girls' night!"
"I think changing in front of someone you recently met goes far beyond mere 'casual'."
"Hehe well, we'll just get familiar that much faster then!"
Before Kaede knew it, Cecylia had finished changing and bounced back. Her first thought was that Cecylia's exposed shoulders above her camisole easily had the smoothest, pearly skin she had ever seen, even with modern cosmetics and skincare products. In fact, it seemed almost unnatural.
"Eek!"
Backed into the wall, Kaede yelped in surprise as Cecylia's delicate fingers snaked in and started undoing her buttons with swift precision.
"S-stop!"
She turned towards Ariadne with her eyes pleading. The noble lady then tilted her head with a scowl before she walked over and pulled the overenthusiastic Cecylia off by the wrists.
"At least get to know someone properly before you start being forceful. You're going to drive Kaede off with this kind of behavior!"
"Awww but I wanna see! Pascal has pretty good tastes you know!"
With her shirt open and halfway down her shoulders, Kaede hugged her small chest and pressed herself against the wall. She could feel her cheeks blushing furiously, her exposed skin reddening as they met the warm indoor air again. Oddly enough, she found this far more embarrassing than wearing the same thing in front of Pascal.
Girls by themselves are way too scary...
"Oh, Sylv is going to have so much fun with her!"
Cecylia kept her brightly lit eyes fixated on Kaede, as though savoring an alluring piece of artwork.
Trying to defuse the situation, Ariadne herself began to undress and change to her sleepwear. She started by revealing a soft-pink bustier that tightly hugged her ample bosom.
It didn't have quite the intended effect. Kaede merely looked for more inconspicuous objects to fascinate over.
...
"You still haven't introduced yourself like you promised," Kaede grumbled before she leaned over the bedside counter and bit into another slice of wiener schnitzel.
Delicious food always made her feel better about things.
She even stopped obsessing over the fact that she wore nothing more than white lingerie as the three of them sat on Ariadne's king-sized four-poster bed between 'nine' furry cats. Although it would take a while before she could grow accustomed to it, if that were possible at all.
"Hehe, I do still owe an explanation don't I?" Cecylia replied cheerily. "I take it's your first time meeting a dhampir?"
Kaede nearly choked. 'Dhampir' of slavic folklore was the child between a human and...
"One of your parents... is a vampire?" She asked as her coughs subsided with the help of Ariadne stroking her back.
"Ah... you really aren't from our world are you?"
Cecylia's scarlet-cross eyes grew fascinated as a mischievous grin lit up her face. She held up the smallest kitty and twiddled its paw towards Kaede while launching into a lively explanation that totally contrasted with its contents:
"The vampire clans were wiped out centuries ago by the not-yet-Holy Imperium, although not before their curses destroyed sixteen whole legions and left the Dead Mountains perpetually filled with murderous mist. Dhampir are the descendants of vampires, still carrying the core of the fiendish blood curse that first created them during the Demonic Invasion. But the magic have at least diluted enough that the church could seal its effects, which..." she pointed to her pupils, "is what this cross is. I've had it since my baptism, dyed by my own magic over the years in the same way Ariadne's rosy mana colors her hair."
"So... you don't drink blood anymore then?"
The moment Cecylia put her kitten back onto the bedcovers, all nine cats scurried forward and surrounded Kaede's sides and rear like a furry trolley train.
"We do not urge for blood. But we certainly still enjoy it..."
Cecylia's grin slanted into a smirk at just the right angle, highlighting the little fang of a canine she sported. Oddly enough, only one was slightly bigger than usual. But Kaede hardly thought about it as the dhampir leaned in with a hungry, blood-red gaze.
With her entire body shivering, Kaede had never felt so aware of her Samaran body, nor the fact her blood was literally 'health food' for the predatory girl before her.
"Most dhampirs follow our cultural tradition of taking blood..."
Kaede could feel Cecylia's thin yet firm fingers slide down her bare shoulders, pinning her arms on each side. Hot breaths tickled her exposed collarbone as two deep-red eyes leaned in. Already quivering with trepidation, Kaede shook uselessly against Cecylia's unyielding grasp. It was as though those very pupils made her feel weak, yet Kaede couldn't break eye contact. She then cringed as she felt the dhampir's moist lips touched her skin... and kissed her gently.
Cecylia then leaned back with the broad smile of a joke well played.
"Y-you're horrible." Kaede muttered in her wispy, shaky voice as she wiped the tears from her glaring eyes. She genuinely felt scared for a moment as it felt like her whole body had been paralyzed.
"Hehe sorry. You're just so cute that I couldn't resist teasing a teeny bit extra." Cecylia responded. Her playful words didn't harbor the slightest drop of apology.
Meanwhile, her nine cats returned to the center of the bed, forming a full circle around her while each playfully chased the swaying tail of the kitten before them.
"Don't worry though, we only take blood from the partners we marry." Cecylia announced proudly. "Dhampirs lack the regenerative vitality of vampires, so drinking blood has become a rather private issue -- diseases and all that."
So... dhampirs are dead afraid of Sexually Transmitted Diseases.
Kaede was still trying to calm down her heartbeat. Nevertheless she sent a note to her future self that the next time a dhampir threatens to bite her, she should just warn them of syphilis.
"Although we no longer need it, consuming fresh human blood does make us appear younger." Cecylia added. "You should see my father, hundred-fifty-eight years old and still drawing the attention of every lady across the hall like a stud beefcake. Mother gets jealous all the time, even though he's never cheated on her once after a century of marriage. We dhampirs tend to be rather devoted in matrimony, blood of our cherished mate flowing through us and all."
Ariadne had watched the entire exchange with a serene smile, completely unperturbed, while her hands continued to brush her long, flowing pink hair. Now, she finally reentered the conversation:
"That's pretty rare among us. Most noble lords have at least one affair during their youth. It's almost something of a 'proud' achievement among them. The Trinitian Church may require monogamy, but aristocratic culture always tend to turn a blind eye toward mistresses."
"It's worse in Rhin-Lotharingie." Cecylia noted. "They haven't shrugged off their old pagan traditions of concubines equaling prestige. But here complains the girl whose beloved suitor has eyes only for her."
Cecylia's sigh was almost longing, but Ariadne had no intention of playing into it.
"And you've got how many boys chasing after you?"
"Not here." Cecylia's smile faltered a little. "Most Lotharins only need to see my eyes before they decide I'm a sinner."
"Didn't stop Reynaud and Gerard."
Cecylia almost laughed. "Reynaud flirts with half of everything female and walking on two legs, plus I prefer someone taller than me. Gerard is a nice guy and a real diligent worker. Sweet, definitely the romantic type, not to mention those perfect abs the last time he wrestled with Reynaud."
Her dhampir eyes had that 'hungry' look again...
"But... if I court him he'd expect me to become his housewife or something. Nope!"
Cecylia retrieved a tennis-sized ball of red yarn and tossed it onto the bed, where the nine Anias began to juggle and bounce it around like some kind of feline volleyball game.
"Finding the ideal man is overrated. It's far better to help a boy with potential reach his manly peak. That, is where true and lasting love lay."
Ariadne's calm response sounded more like a profession of wisdom. But with Pascal's rooftop apology to Perceval only days past, Kaede quickly realized that the lady was speaking from personal experience.
"Of course it doesn't hurt when that boy you help comes from a powerful dynasty and is the heir to a duchy." Cecylia leaned into Ariadne with a smirk. "It's why the Marshal sent you here on this program even though you're a Knight Phantom. Isn't that right, future Baguette Duchess?"
Kaede rushed a hand to her mouth as she almost snorted with laughter.
At the same time she realized: if the Field Marshal, Pascal's father, was the one who picked Ariadne for the cultural exchange, then chances were he was the one who selected Pascal as well.
A father's love truly is difficult, she thought.
Meanwhile Ariadne retorted with a blush: "That's not at all why I picked him!"
"No. No. You're getting power, wealth, and love. The impossible triangle!" Cecylia grinned. "Just be sure to bake plenty of little baguettes in that oven someday." She patted Ariadne's flat stomach. "Perceval is definitely the type to be a family man." She added before turning to Kaede as though looking for agreement.
The Samaran girl was still smiling when an uncomfortable thought entered her mind:
Love relationships with a man...
It was hardly a topic that Kaede felt comfortable discussing, especially not if they lingered and the two girls grew interested in 'her tastes'.
"What about you, Cecylia? What are you aiming for? It sounds like you're career motivated?"
Kaede took the opportunity to change topics as she ate her last two slices of veal. She could swear at least four slices were missing, although that was still an acceptable price to pay for the adorable kittens whose furry tails continued to brush by every few seconds.
"Cecylia isn't an 'exchange student', unlike me and Pascal." Ariadne returned an appreciative look for coming to her rescue, which was an unintended bonus. "She graduated from Königsfeld last year and works in the Weichsen embassy in Alis Avern."
Same year as you and Pascal then.
"I'm a member of the King's Black Eagles and a junior military attaché," Cecylia smiled. "My specialty is information control and public security."
Kaede blinked. Her reading on Weichsel was considerably less than her research on Rhin-Lotharingie. However she remembered that the Black Eagles were the intelligence and special ops branch of the Weichsel military, who reported directly to the King. Combining that with Cecylia's claims about her specialty...
In other words, you're a propagandist. Kaede realized.
"She's also a foreign culture expert. I could have sworn her crosses turned into glittering stars when I first told her about you Kaede," Ariadne joked.
"Then you're a..."
Kaede struggled to find a better word. However Cecylia wasn't the slightest bit shy about what she did.
"I'm a spy. Yep!" She declared with a grin. "It's not all cloak and dagger, you know. In fact, the Lotharins know exactly what I do. I analyze the information we see and hear from them, and then send it back to Weichsel for the King. I think my ultimate goal can be either spymaster or ambassador. One gets to know all the juicy bits and help nudge the country along the right path. Meanwhile the other gets to enjoy the high life while receiving all sorts of benefits."
A counter-propagandist then. Kaede fixed her initial impression. She had a feeling that she and Cecylia would get along just fine, despite the latter's more... eccentric tendencies.
"But really, Aria, can you blame me for getting excited?" Cecylia turned towards her friend. "It's not everyday that one gets to meet a Samaran, and one from another world at that! Sure, I've met a few Samarans before -- actual Samarans and not just average humans from the Grand Republic. But most of them are so tight-lipped that you can barely get anything out of them."
Probably because they don't feel safe outside Samara, Kaede reflected upon all the accounts of trafficking that she had read.
"What are they like?" She couldn't help but feel curious. "I've never actually met a Samaran before. They don't exist in the world where I come from."
Ariadne looked noticeably shocked by this. But Cecylia took it in stride:
"Well, you have met yourself!"
"Ha-ha." Kaede gave a fake laugh. "No seriously. I wake up and find myself reborn as a Samaran, yet I don't know a thing about what Samarans are like, how I'm supposed to behave, et cetera."
"Wellll," Cecylia tilted her head and cutely pressed a finger into her cheeks. "I can only give you my basic impression of them, plus some of the things I've heard from the other Black Eagles. Though since I've never had a mission in the Grand Republic, I don't have access to the full packet of information on them."
Not that you'd share with me even if you did. Kaede thought.
She knew what it was like to work with those in intelligence. She had a brother-in-law who did so. He was the only man Kaede knew who never touched a drop of alcohol, and who was so tight-tipped one could barely get a word about work out of him.
"It's still more than I have," she then shrugged.
"So among the Black Eagles, the most often-said trait about Samarans... is that they're prudes." Cecylia giggled before her schoolgirl soprano deepened in a remarkably good imitation of a male voice: "Never try to seduce one, they say. You're more likely to bed my great-grandmother."
"That can't be right," Kaede thought aloud. "Samarans must still feel attraction."
"Ohhhhh? So who are you attracted to?" Cecylia scurried forward playfully until her knees were almost touching Kaede's.
Kaede could feel the fire that spontaneously erupted in her cheeks. "That's not what I meant. I mean..." She rushed to find an excuse. "They still have kids, don't they? All biological species feel attraction. Otherwise they'd have long gone extinct."
Even pandas get in the mood... eventually, she thought back to how researchers used panda porn to encourage breeding, which her father couldn't stop laughing about.
It made her feel a little homesick.
"That's why I hear that even in the Grand Republic, Samarans are kind of... rare." Cecylia shrugged. "I don't know the real reason. But the gist of what I hear is that Samarans just aren't particularly interested in anything sexual, even though they take relationships very, very seriously."
"What do you mean by that?" Kaede felt her curiosity grow.
"They say a Samaran will never forget anything you did for them. And no matter how long it's been, they'll always repay the favor in kind. Apparently they believe in this concept called 'karma', and that every good deed should be repaid."
Kaede smiled. Buddhism ranked high on the list of Earth religions she had been attracted to for precisely this reason.
"Is that the reason why the Grand Republic sent aid to the Lotharins during the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War?" She asked.
Cecylia looked taken aback. She exchanged a glance with Ariadne.
"I told you she was a quick study for books," the lady knight grinned.
"Yes, actually." Cecylia nodded as her gaze returned to Kaede. "If there's one thing one could say about the Grand Republic, it's that any diplomatic relationship with them is extremely predictable, almost painfully so. You can't just go on a charm offensive and hope they'll like you. You have to actually build relations with them over time. During the Great Northern War five centuries ago when the Great Khan invaded Samara from the east, there was an Oriflamme Paladin named Leslie who led his band into Samara and lent them his services as a mercenary. The Samarans remembered this even three centuries later and repaid the aid in spades."
Does that mean the Mongols' invasion of Russia failed in this world? Kaede couldn't help ponder. Though Samaran foreign policy sounds more like... China's, obsessed with history.
"Aria told me you found our world fascinating, though I'm a bit surprised by how quickly you're learning." Cecylia gave an encouraging smile. "So how similar is your world compared to ours? Other than the part where your humanity never received the gift of magic from the dragonlords?"
"By 'dragonlords', you mean..."
"Yes, I speak of the dragons that descended upon Hyperion roughly four thousand years ago, and departed at the end of the Dragon Age." Cecylia added. "We call them 'dragonlords' out of respect. After all, they protected our tribal ancestors during the Dragon-Demon Wars, not to mention blessed our forefathers with the ability and knowledge to shape magic. This is especially the case for the Dragonlord Hyperion -- the son of the Holy Father whom ended the Dragon-Demon Wars."
Kaede had to blink several times as she took all that in. She had been too focused on learning about the civilized history of this world, as opposed to the ancient history that, at least back on Earth, were more appropriate to anthropologists than historians. She had encountered mentions of the dragons during her reading, but they were mostly in passing as she had never focused her research on the topic.
"The world I came from had dragons also, but only in myths and legends," the Samaran girl replied.
"Well, they're certainly not limited to myths or legends here," Cecylia grinned. "The legacy of the dragonlords is well researched and documented, from battlefield remains to the artifacts they've left behind."
Clearly, I should pay more attention to the 'prehistory' of this world. Kaede made a mental note to herself before returning to topic.
"But aside from magic, I'd say this world and mine are extremely similar? In fact, Hyperion feels like what my world might have been if neither the Roman Empire -- who conquered most of the Western World just like your Inner Sea Imperium -- nor the Catholic Church underwent schism. So instead of a long, slow decline, our version of the Imperium collapsed within a few centuries and lead to the 'Dark Ages' on the European continent."
In later hindsight, Kaede was surprised by how easily her words rushed out, even though this was their first meeting. But after being nearly stripped and bitten by Cecylia, delving into deep discussions felt almost... casual.
"Let me start closer to here and run nation by nation: Rhin-Lotharingie is like Celtic Gaul and Celtic Britain smushed together, except in my world the Romans' Celtic Holocaust basically wiped out their culture. The Empire as it stands now, however, reminds me of my world's Frankish Empire under the Carolingians, except without the Gavelkind succession which later tore them asunder..."
"Gavelkind?"
Cecylia cut her off almost instantly, a tribute to the girl's sheer mental processing speed even as she absorbed information that was literally out-of-this-world.
"It's a succession law where the father's realm and assets is split up between all of his sons. My world's history is rather patriarchal." Kaede noted with an apologetic shrug towards the two ladies.
"Since your world didn't have magic, it would certainly be much harder for women to match the men in any contest of power or strength," Ariadne commented as though she wasn't surprised. "The duties of nobility always began with military leadership, and if women can't match up on the battlefield then they automatically forfeit such positions of power."
"That's likely among the reasons, and certainly one of the more apparent differences." Kaede nodded as she pondered. "Though from a worldly perspective, I'd say the biggest difference between this world and mine is that nation-states changed a lot more in my world, with far more division and fragmentation. France and Germany. Eastern and Western Roman Empire. Caliphates of Cordoba and Baghdad. Even the Churches of Rome, Constantinople, and Alexandria."
She had a feeling that one of the reasons was because mages lived far longer. But that only meant Hyperion's history 'slowed down' compared to that of Europe on Earth. It didn't explain some of the more dramatic differences, like the fact there were almost no 'small states'. Even the Kingdom of Weichsel -- a comparatively 'minor power' in Hyperion -- came in a size that would make Prussian King Frederick the Great proud.
"Well, distance is a problem when it comes to administration of large realms. So it's easy to break down into smaller state entities," Cecylia suggested as a possible cause. "What did you use for communications? Without magic you wouldn't have access to our Farspeak spell to instantly relay information across thousands of kilopaces."
"Uhhh... back then? Horse and rider? Mail by pigeon? It took a long time to get messages across any empire, at least until we invented the telegraph which ran on electricity... lightning-power." Kaede noted.
"Well that's the problem," Cecylia pointed out. "You can't govern an empire effectively if messages take a month to reach the emperor and another to return. We don't even need a device that catches lightning to send messages. A Farspeak spell can be cast within minutes and allows you to converse with any mage that you've met once in person."
First gunpowder, now this.
It was beginning to sink in just how truly world-altering magic was. Not only did it shift the development paths of technology, it also changed the rules of how human institutions behaved.
----- * * * -----
"How did your night go?" Pascal asked Kaede at brunch the next day as she sat down next to him.
"Pretty well."
Kaede and Cecylia ended up comparing the cultural and geopolitical evolution of the two worlds late into the night. Even with the dhampir's earlier behavior lingering in her mind, Kaede found herself quickly warming up to Cecylia thanks to their mutual interests.
Cecylia then left first thing this morning. She didn't even wait for breakfast and simply took a few pastries from the kitchens. Her departing words to Pascal and Ariadne was somewhat ominous though:
"Remember what I told you last night -- prepare yourselves."
The two of them pressed her for answers on what for. However all the dhampir girl would say was a cryptic "hopefully nothing, but possibly everything".
It really reminded Kaede that despite how outgoing Cecylia seemed, she was still a keeper of secrets.
After Cecylia left, Kaede decided that she owed Ariadne an apology. The lady who epitomized nobility spoke little most of the night and simply kept up her gentle smile. Engrossed in their discussion, Kaede did not notice until after the fact.
Ariadne's response had been a truly affectionate "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You needed it after the last few days."
It made Kaede feel unworthy of befriending such a wonderful person.
"Morning Gerard!"
Perceval's friendly call brought Kaede back from her thoughts.
"Hello Perceval. Clearly, I must have missed something big if the Runelord is sitting next to you."
"The Holy Father does his work in mysterious ways," Perceval smiled back. "Pascal I don't need to introduce. This is Kaede..."
"The famous familiar girl, I recognized."
Gerard nodded towards Pascal while giving Kaede a slight bow:
"I'm Gerard Fournier. Pleasure to meet you."
Gerard was easily the tallest of the group, as his height was at least a few finger-widths higher than either Pascal or Perceval. His short, straight hair was black. His firm eyes were ash-blue. Below them, his hard, chiseled chin and a slightly tall, Balkan nose dominated his image. He wore a loose fitting tunic and a jacket over it, both of which looked too plain for a noble. However despite his lax clothing, it was clear that his body held an incredibly firm musculature. Tough and well-built, but no steroids monster either.
"Ah... nice to meet you as well."
"Fournier?" Pascal puzzled. "I don't recognize that name."
"My parents are bakers." Gerard shrugged before his voice hardened. "Yeomen, lower middle class. Perceval was the one who sponsored my attendance here. You have a problem with it?"
"I did not know Alisia Academy had a patron program?" Pascal asked. However even his casual voice sounded haughty and was definitely rubbing Gerard the wrong way.
"It's not a program." Perceval explained. "Reynaud introduced him to me. Apparently they met through his parents' bakery."
"He makes the most adorable animal bread, presented in beautiful confection houses." Reynaud grinned. "When I asked him how, he started telling me about how the dough needed just the right mix and had to be set just right so they'd expand in a certain way, yadda yadda. The rest went over my head."
"Like I've told you -- baking is a science." Gerard insisted.
"Which is precisely why I didn't get it." Reynaud remained smiling as he patted the back of the man who was over a head taller than him. "I mean do you ever see me reading a science book? Or any book?"
"You read map books." Perceval interjected.
"Yeah, well, those are fun. Seeing all the places I can go to? Tickles the imagination."
"I still do not see how baking has any connection with this academy."
Pascal's comment made Kaede want to slam her head into the table. You've just made new friends! Don't ruin it already!
Thankfully, Perceval addressed the issue as he explained with pride in his voice:
"Gerard ranked sixth on the entry assessment exam for his year. He is now the best among his class of 4th year civil engineers. Only reason he returned late is because of his internship with the Ministry of Land and Resources in the capital."
"Impressive." Pascal's attitude switch was instantaneous, even if his tone was not.
"<Would it hurt you to show your admiration a little more in your public voice?>" Kaede prodded over telepathy, which Pascal utterly ignored.
Gerard shrugged, his blank expression seemingly not caring:
"You may think as you like. Most nobles here only put up with me thanks to Perceval and Ariadne."
"Most nobles here are incompetent." Pascal clarified as his turquoise gaze swept the dining hall. "Birth, standing, prestige, none of those matter. Intellect, resolve, and the skills it brings are what counts."
Apart from Kaede, everyone else looked back at Pascal with some shade of surprise.
"I was just talking to my father the other day about the 'Imperial Examination System' that Kaede spoke of from her memories, which could elevate the poorest civilian to important officials of state. The performance bottleneck to the Weichsen army's Mobility Doctrine has always been a limit of capable officers, as commanders in the field must be able to think and act independently according to circumstance instead of waiting for orders. Father told me to draft him a formal proposal on how we could apply a standardized testing and scholarship system for promising cadets. When you mentioned patronage I wondered if Rhin-Lotharingie was already ahead of Weichsel in this."
Kaede smiled a little. She wasn't sure where this world's version of China was. Probably the 'Dawn Imperium' that sat as the other superpower in the far east. However she was certain they wouldn't mind her plagiarizing their 2,000 year tradition of meritocracy.
By the end of Pascal's speech, Gerard stood in awe with his mouth ajar.
"The Marshal of Weichsel is interested in this?" he asked, almost in disbelief.
Pascal nodded back, his stiff gaze confirming:
"Why is this a surprise? Weichsel's military is a meritocracy. The enemy will not care about how famous your family is."
"Yet your enemies will always recognize your family name." Gerard countered in a flat voice. "You can't get promoted if your superiors don't remember your name to match your deeds. And if you don't think there's a noble preference there then you've been blinded by your own experience. Still, better some opportunity than none."
Gerard then pulled out a seat right across from Pascal and sat down.
"I'll be happy to give you some proper perspective from a lowborn."
...
Surrounded by other acquaintances, Perceval's group broke to separate conversations as they enjoyed their meal. Kaede was introduced to nearly two dozen other noble acquaintances who sat nearby, although none of them spoke another word to her afterwards. She quickly realized that Gerard's situation was milder but somewhat similar to her own, patronage or not.
In the eyes of most highborns, the two of them were seen as little more than servants who shadowed their master's footsteps.
Unfortunately, Kaede did not receive much of a chance to consult her senior. Gerard spent almost the entire meal digging details out of Pascal, much to the annoyance of other nearby nobles who saw an easy opportunity to approach the Runelord.
It soon became apparent that most of the other peers who surrounded Perceval were not like-minded individuals. His affable demeanor and generous personality did make him easy to befriend. However, Kaede was fairly certain that Perceval's family heritage probably wasn't any lower than that of Ariadne's. In fact, she was fairly certain that one of the Paladins who fought during the Independence War carried his family name of 'La Tours'.
Personal politics and alliance-building worked the same way no matter where one went, especially among junior aristocrats. This was particularly true for those sociable enough to begin a snowball effect: the more acquaintances a high society circle gathered, the harder it became to refuse or ignore them.
Regardless, the same patterns of conversation kept up for the next two days. The only difference was that Pascal began to draft his idea for a 'scholarship examination' system. He solicited suggestions from those around him, and sent an evil eye to any noble who scoffed at the proposal. Both Kaede and Gerard were only too happy to pitch in, and soon Pascal had what he considered his 'initial draft'.
When Kaede asked how many drafts he usually went through, Pascal answered: "as many as it takes until I am satisfied."
She couldn't decide if this was due to his perfectionist tendencies or his father's strictness. Probably some of both.
Pascal might have made more progress if he also used his time with Kaede back in the dormitories to work on the proposal. Instead, he spent almost all of that time inscribing new runestones and infusing mana into newly cut gemstones. Half of the reason was because Kaede had expended a significant portion of his rune stockpile to lay her trap for the assassins. The other half was because of Cecylia's cryptic warnings.
And so, the week after the assassination attempt passed in a peaceful school setting... at least until Saturday's lunchtime when the entire hall was disrupted.
At the time, Kaede was watching Pascal and Gerard have another conversation, when a 4th year military cadet who wore their blue gambeson uniform rushed in from the hallway:
"WAR! WAR!" He yelled at the top of his lungs before stopping just inside the entrance to catch his breath.
All chatter in the dining hall died instantly as everyone awaited his explanation:
"THE CATALIYAN CALIPHATE HAS DECLARED HOLY WAR AGAINST US! Their armies have already crossed the border!"
The entire dining hall erupted back into loud, chaotic conversations. Some voices were worried, others anxious, and a few just plain scared.
Pascal was one of the few who completely kept his cool.
"Well, at least this answers the riddle of why the Holy Imperium suddenly wants me dead."
Most of Perceval's close friends nodded back in agreement, their expressions varying between alarm and apprehension.
None of them appreciated the frightening implications of being simultaneously hostile to the two largest powers of the Western World.
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