Chapter 42: Parade of Steel (Patreon)

Nikoletta sat by her father’s bedside, staring down at his steady breathing. His injuries were healed, leaving not even a scar, and his breathing was steady and unlabored. Still, he refused to awaken.

“It’s been two days, Master Castro. Can you not awaken him yet?” Nikoletta said, trying to keep her tone polite, but finding it difficult to do so in light of her worry.

The old tower master stood beside her, watching the Duke Enrico. “As I told you, the spell to do so would be very costly. I would not leave myself fully drained of magic with the possibility of a recurring attack. I understand your concern, young lady Monticci, but your father is in no immediate danger.”

“Hooh…” Nikoletta sighed, leaning crossing her arms and leaning against her knees. “People in comas get brain damage sometimes, right? What if that happens?”

“What did I say?” Castro asked, then repeated, “Your father is in no immediate danger.”

“You’re right,” she said, lifting her head up. “You’re right. You would know best. I don’t… even know how to begin to thank you, Tower Master. How did you even find out about the invasion?”

“Please, save your thanks for the deserving,” Castro said with a shake of his head. “It was happenstance I came here. I was looking for a promising Acolyte.”

“Your wyvern… I never intended to…” she muttered. “You sacrificed much for Mateth.”

“I helped of my own accord. Any loss placed upon me is my own doing. Do not fret, young lady.” The Tower Master smiled warmly. “And besides, that squadron of archers you called for helped greatly when they arrived. I had heard of this ‘Ebonice’ through rumor alone, but it is indeed a great enemy to spellcasters.”

Nikoletta’s mind had grown numb from the constant anxiety the past few days. She realized how powerless she truly was, currently. With her father incapacitated, she was the regent of the Duchy of Monticci. There was great unrest within the capital Mateth—refugees from the coastal villages swamped the city’s gates, causing great disorder outside.

Inside was little different. There were a few snow elves living within the city, and mobs formed, lynching several of them without provocation. It was a terrible thing, but the military force they had was too small to punish the people that carried out those acts. The guilt weighed at Nikoletta’s mind daily. She lowered her head into her hands, rubbing her tired eyes.

And atop all of that, Argrave was still absent. He could be dead. He could be a captive, tortured and starving. He could… Nikoletta frowned, recalling something the Tower Master had said.

“Master Castro,” she said, straightening her back. “That Acolyte you were looking for… was his name Argrave?”

Castro was taken aback. “Yes, it was. You know of him?”

“Are you serious?” she stood. “But then he…” Her mind fell into disarray.

Did he plan this all along? To have Master Castro come to help at the last minute?

“No… no, that’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “The level of thought, insight… surely that isn’t possible.”

“You know this boy, young lady Monticci?” the Tower Master questioned.

“I do,” Nikoletta nodded. “He’s my cousin. He went to Veiden to stop the invasion.”

“What did you say?” Castro asked with a strong hint of disbelief flavoring his tone. “No, that’s—”

A great bell rung, and Nikoletta’s head snapped to attention. “That’s the watchman’s bell,” she said, the end of her sentence cut off with another ring. She stepped past the chair and quickly moved to the door, stepping outside into the estate’s hallway. She rushed to a large bay window that overlooked the coast.

A lone longship cut across the sea. The sight of it brought back terrible memories, and Nikoletta’s breathing quickened. She looked out to the ocean beyond, but she saw no other ships. The flag bore atop the ship was white in way of the red flag with the black wheel in the center. She saw a lone figure on the figurehead of the ship.

#####

“You should get off from there,” Anneliese called out, arms crossed as she stood behind Argrave within the ship’s railings. She had donned a set of black robes lined with white fur more suitable for travel.

Argrave turned his head back from his spot standing atop the figurehead of the ship. “Please. I saw you riding in this same spot when you sailed to Barden. This was on the eve of battle, no less.” He fixed his white fur cloak over his clothing and placed one hand on his hip. Three daggers with black blades dangled on his leg. “Always wanted to do this, anyway. Make-believe I’m some kind of Jarl.”

A wave clashed into the ship and Argrave jerked about, one foot slipping off the side. He barely managed to regain his balance, and then he made a speedy retreat back onto the safety of the boat’s railings. Anneliese stared at him. She didn’t smile much, but he had been around her long enough to see recognize amusement in her eyes.

“Alright, so maybe it isn’t as dreamy as I thought it might be.” Argrave sat against one of the railings, peering out to the coastline ahead. “At least I don’t get seasick. Always wondered if I would, but never really had the chance to test it.”

“You’re in good spirits. Is it because you’re heading home?” She sat on a chest tied to the ship’s deck by some ropes.

“Home? I’m a vagrant. I sold my home, became a nomad.” Argrave pointed at the chest Anneliese sat atop of. “I’m in good spirits because of those books in there. Good harvest, all things considered. Plus these Ebonice daggers…” Argrave tapped the three on his leg. “Dras is generous.”

“No. I think that you’re happy because Mateth did not fall. It went against your expectations.”

Argrave almost cracked at that moment. Anneliese was half-right. He was hopeful. He hoped that he would not return to see the people he’d become intimately acquainted with over the past months dead. The other half was a deep anxiety that the opposite might be true.

Argrave stared at Anneliese, clicking his tongue. “Alright, so maybe I am. It’s a double-edged sword, though. Mateth is still standing, but it’ll be harder for Veiden to lend me any aid in my future plans.”

“I’m still curious what you intend to do, exactly. You want to prepare the world for Gerechtigkeit, but how?” She gazed at him, amber eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“I don’t like repeating myself especially, so we’ll wait for Galamon,” Argrave shrugged.

“You still intend to bring him along?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Good fighter, quiet, loyal to a fault, although a bit bloodthirsty, I will admit.” Argrave grabbed at his neck. He spotted a great number of knights moving across the coast towards their boat on foot. “Look at that,” Argrave said. “Another welcoming party for my landing. I might get used to this.”

He held his hand out to form a spell matrix and he felt his vision spin. Soon enough, he was looking down at his body, immobile. Argrave was using druidic magic. He had bound one to himself and left it resting on the ship’s sail. He commanded the pigeon he was seeing through to move and watched as it flew out across the ocean towards the host of knights. In the center, Nikoletta rode a horse, and it felt like a heavy backpack had been lifted off his shoulders. He brought the bird back to the ship.

“Phew,” Argrave said as his vision spun once more. “Druidic magic will take some getting used to, but it’s immeasurably useful.”

The oars rushed back and forth, pushing them ever closer towards the beach. Eventually, when the ship grew close enough, the ship turned on its side, and a great deal of Veidimen pushed out a plank that landed on the beach. They stayed abord, but Argrave and Anneliese stood. One of the Veidimen cut the rope tying the chest down, and then hauled it, following close behind them.

Argrave stepped onto the beach, holding his arms out. “Feel that? Wind, untainted by snow or dread cold. A stiff autumn breeze is paradise compared to that winter wonderland.”

Ahead, the veritable parade of steel-armored knights approached them. One person broke free of the crowd and rushed forward. Argrave suppressed a small little grin as he saw Nikoletta’s obsidian-color hair waving about in the wind. Some knights tried to stop her, but none dared restrain the young lady Monticci by force.

Argrave walked forward in long strides. Nikoletta grew nearer, and her caution overwrote whatever it was that spurred her to run towards him. She approached slowly, catching her breath.

“Nikoletta, cousin. Nice to see you in one piece,” Argrave said, offering a handshake.

Nikoletta stared at him with her dark pink eyes, breathing heavily without saying a word. Then, she rushed forward and veritably tackled Argrave, hands wrapped around his back. Argrave staggered a little but managed to keep his footing. His hands hovered awkwardly above her head, which was buried below his chest.

“What are you—we’re hugging? Well, I certainly didn’t…” Argrave trailed off. He heard some sobbing noises, muffled beneath his clothes.

“You’re crying? Why are you crying?” Argrave turned his head to Anneliese in panic. “Why is she crying?” Anneliese only watched, offering no answer. “Come on, now’s not the time for the face-on-a-statue act, Anneliese. Back me up!”

Nikoletta headbutted him in the chest lightly. “Shut up, you bastard.”

Argrave frowned and hesitantly returned the embrace. He had never been good at hugs, but it was doubly awkward considering the height difference. He didn’t want to get his clothes soaked in tears and snot, but he didn’t wish to push her away, either.

“It’s been… so damned hard,” Nikoletta said. “Why don’t you tell anyone what you’re doing? Why do you go off on your own like that? You just leave me here with a pit in my stomach.”

Argrave didn’t know what to say for a time. After a while, he opened his mouth and slowly said, “I mean… you’ve still got my clothes in that guest bedroom. Didn’t I say you could take them out and stare at them when you miss me?”

She started shaking again, and Argrave was worried he had made things worse. It took him a few seconds, but he recognized that she was laughing. She pushed away, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she began, wiping her face off. “The past few days… they’ve been unimaginably stressful. It all just exploded on you.” She took a deep breath, regaining her composure. “I thought I might never see you again. Spent the whole time steeling myself for that. Maybe they’d find your corpse on a beach. Maybe you’d just never be heard from again.”

Me too, Argrave thought, but refrained from saying that.

“Pfft.” Argrave scoffed. “Me? Dead? Impossible. No rest for the wicked. That includes the long sleep.” He surveyed his clothes where she’d wept, cleaning them off with water magic briefly. “It appears Mateth didn’t fall, despite my fears. What happened?”

“The Tower Master Castro came atop a wyvern. With his help, we repelled the invaders, but we lost the docks. My father… is in a coma, at least for another couple days.” She took a deep breath, as though it was difficult to say aloud. “Ultimately… we barely hung on. But that isn’t important. What in the gods name did you do? You’re returning escorted…” she eyed Anneliese warily.

“The Veidimen won’t trouble Berendar any longer, at least for another decade.” Argrave retrieved a rolled-up paper from his pocket. “Here. A contract. Peace treaty, I guess, but they called it a contract.”

Nikoletta stared in mute shock, but eventually took the paper from his hand. Argrave’s eyes stayed locked on the steadily approaching knights, marching on foot. He turned his head back to the longship. All those that had been rowing the longship stood at the edge, shields arrayed in a perfect line as they watched the approaching army. It was quite a terrifying sight.

“It’s over?” Nikoletta finally spoke. “Just like that. They’re free to just come, ruin thousands of lives, and then leave as though nothing ever happened.” Her eyes went to Anneliese, and the snow elf kept her amber eyes steady, returning the gaze.

Argrave’s expression grew somber. “I can’t change what’s already happened. I did… the best I could.”

The words felt hollow. He watched Nikoletta. He didn’t need to be an empath to tell there was grief etched on her face—hardships, sorrows. Argrave had been fully prepared to let Veiden seize Mateth. If not for chance, the person before him might be dead.

“You’re right. I can’t complain to you,” Nikoletta carried on, unaware of Argrave’s thoughts. “I see your name, I see some strange word, ‘Gerechtigkeit,’ and He Who Would Judge the Gods. I want you to explain to me what happened. Explain to me what’s happening,” she said. “I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore.”

“Sure,” Argrave agreed. “Long story, though. Might be tiresome.” He looked back at the crowd. “Where’s Mina? I don’t see her around. Nothing… happened, did it?” He asked in concern.

“Mina?” Nikoletta’s face went red and she looked to the ground. “She… well, she… we haven’t spoken in a while after she…”

“Hoh?” Argrave asked eagerly, his joy at learning she was fine seeping into his speech. “Did she do something? Get a weight off her chest to her best friend? Confess something?”

Nikoletta’s head shot up to lock gazes with Argrave. She stepped closer, speaking quieter despite their distance from the host of knights ahead. “You knew about… what she…?”

Argrave smiled. “Of course I knew. I gave her the push.”

Her eyes widened at his words. “I can’t believe it…” she put a hand to her mouth. “I have no idea what to say to her. I think I… but then again…,” she mulled. “My father would never agree to such a thing. Some aristocrats, there are rumors of relationships like… but… I’ve seen people stoned for this, Argrave.”

“I imagine only the peasants face repercussions for such relationships. Such is the nature of a landed elite,” Argrave commented. “I’ve told no other soul. Even if people find out, you don’t genuinely think your father would let you be hurt for this, I hope. You’re his only child.”

“Why would you want such a thing to happen?” she struck at the heart of the matter.

Argrave frowned. In truth, the pairing had been done at whim when he was in a good mood. Granted, it was what he always chose in-game, particularly because their ending was happiest. When they had been game characters, he had some attachment to them as just that. Now, though…

Argrave spoke much slower than usual, speaking the answer only as he came to it. “Is it so strange to seek happiness for two friends? It’ll be difficult, doubtless. I can’t say people will accept it easily, but I believe it’s worth pursuing. Call it a… modern perspective.”

Nikoletta raised a brow. “Didn’t think you could say something that sappy.”

“A cruel thing to say to a man who bares his heart,” Argrave said in faux sadness.

“Such a ridiculous situation…” she looked to the sand. “When last we spoke, my father was dead set on you as my marriage partner.”

“What?” Argrave answered immediately. When Nikoletta nodded, he burst out laughing. “Really? Well that’s ridiculous,” Argrave dismissed it. “I don’t fancy having children with oversized chins and the genetic composition of a mushroom stew. You’re a friend, nothing more.”

“I’m relieved you say so.” The knights started to grow close enough that Nikoletta needed to raise her voice.

“Well, perhaps it’s not such a bad thing,” Argrave mused. “I think we can work something out that solves both of these matters of the heart. Always happy to help a ship sail, after all.”

He turned his head around to his chest of books. “Oh, and I’ve got some luggage. Fortunately, the pride parade ahead can carry the books back for weak old Argrave.”