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| ===Chapter 10 - Shifting Winds===
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| "....The entire hill was a sea of fire at that point. So I figured it was time to lead in a charge. ''One hundred and seventy'' armored gryphons, straight into their ranks! And their center hardly even buckled!"
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| Kaede listened to Sylviane's incredulous tone as she sat next to Cecylia on the Princess' spacious bed, in the broad but otherwise austere 'royal cabin', and drinking a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
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| Cecylia had mentioned that it was a Skagen product when she made it -- which was surprising, since cocoa was not a plant that grew in the frozen north.
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| Given that all other produces were very similar to those of Earth, there was likely more to the Northmen nation than meets the eye.
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| "They're housecarls -- and their name for being household troops isn't just for show either..."
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| With a patient tone that was almost unlike her, Cecylia explained in a soft soprano that felt soothing just to hear. Her hands gently stroked the largest Ania as all nine bodies of the matryoshka cat laid comfortably around her, purring in turn as though a chorus of relaxation. They all basked in the warm glow of the phoenix Hauteclere, who continued to stand regally next to the Princess while chirping playfully to the smallest kittens.
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| "--The housecarls live in their lord's castle. They drink and dine on their lord's table. They're raised alongside the lord's sons and daughters, trained on the same grounds to the same standards, and address each other like brothers regardless of rank..."
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| Not even Cecylia could keep the rising admiration out of her voice.
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| "Men like that have a bond stronger than any oath. They will fight to their dying breath for their liege, to protect both the safety of his life and the sanctity of his corpse... we know that it was the Jarl's personal force that struck the detachment, but I'll bet that the heir was among those you defeated, Sylv."
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| "We don't have anything like that," Sylviane murmured back.
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| "The Knight Phantoms, the Lotharin Armigers, Imperial Praetorians and Scholarii, not even the Cataliyan Ghulams could even compare to the élan of the Northmen elite."
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| Cecylia's broad grin then returned:
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| "It's ''brotherhood'' at its finest."
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| "Of course you're a fan of them," the Princess chuckled back as she twirled her dark-plum hair. "Sweaty shirtless men wrestling each other in the halls before drinking themselves to a stupor." Then, curious: "but I thought they also fought each other to the death over disagreements."
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| Cecylia returned a rather tilted nod:
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| "They could. But not amongst brothers. It's certainly true that in the north all disagreements could be decided by single combat. Saves all the political wrangling and plotting, just smash your wine cup at them and draw swords!"
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| "Sometimes I wish Rhin-Lotharingie had that tradition," Sylviane sighed wistfully. "The constant bickering between the lords gives me headaches, and I'm not even Empress yet!"
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| Kaede could almost imagine: the new United Nations Assembly, where they resolved national disputes by putting world leaders in a ring and having them fight it out.
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| The was a certain refreshing allure to it... definitely cleaner, at any rate.
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| "Once upon a time," Cecylia grinned back, her scarlet-crossed eyes almost twinkling. "A lot of Lotharin cultural aspects survived the Imperial subjugation, but that's not one of them..."
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| The petite dhampir then shrugged again.
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| "...It does have its downsides though: like how all judicial cases may be overthrown through trial by single combat -- no representative champions allowed either. So among the Northmen, if you're weak, you're nothing. Can't even get a bride, since a man is expected to literally beat off the other suitors and ''then'' defeat his wife-to-be in a quarterstaff duel."
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| "Sounds like a painful wedding," Sylviane frowned back.
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| "If he want to bed her that night, he better be good enough to beat her without bruising her much! Talk about an incentive!"
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| "Nope. Pascal. I can't marry you. Go back and train for another decade," Sylviane said in a faked voice before both of them started giggling.
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| "Well, to be fair, having Hauteclere ''is'' rather unfair," Cecylia countered before giving the staring phoenix an apologetic nod. "Not that Pascal will ever say that, since he's no sore loser and believes in combat realism. Oriflammes certainly don't hold back on a real battlefield."
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| "Wouldn't such a culture also imply that Northern women are martially trained as well?" Kaede finally cut in after her last sip. "Except I didn't see any. Neither the attacking force nor on the walls."
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| "Only the men are accepted on campaigns," Cecylia replied. "Northern women only take up arms as part of a garrison to defend their homes. So the militias units are gender segregated, and you probably faced an all-men unit on the wall."
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| "There were hundreds of them killed and wounded at the gates," Sylviane commented with a solemn deadpan as she reached down to cradle a meowing kitten. "I had to bloody them some more before they would talk. Have to admire their bravery though."
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| "Sorry," Kaede looked down. ''I shouldn't have brought it up.''
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| Cecylia then leaned over to give Kaede an all-encompassing hug from the back. A comforting embrace she had wanted since last night, yet couldn't ask.
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| Kaede felt certain that Cecylia was warmer than most people too, despite her small frame...
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| ...Just before she felt hot breathe blowing into the sensitive back of her left ear.
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| "EEK!" Kaede yelped involuntarily. She almost jumped on the bed, if it wasn't for the dhampir holding her down.
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| "She's apparently having trouble dealing with her first battle," Cecylia informed Sylviane with a half-smug, half-devious smile. "Clearly we should help her forget it."
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| Sylviane smiled back but shook her head:
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| "It doesn't work that way."
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| But as her wisteria eyes met Kaede's, it was with the softest look the Princess offered the familiar girl yet.
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| "Come over here Kaede. My hair is just not as soft as yours."
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| Kaede paused and looked back with reluctance, while the Princess sent over a pleasant smile:
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| "What did you promise in exchange for my permission to stay besides ''my fiancé'' again?"
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| Kaede almost sighed aloud.
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| ''Teddy Bear time...''
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| After Cecylia released her and she shifted over across the soft comforter, Kaede once again found Sylviane draped over her shoulders and rubbing cheeks against the back of her head.
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| "She's super-huggable isn't she?" Cecylia grinned.
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| "Yep," Sylviane agreed happily, her voice slightly muffled as she continued her snuggling. "And since she's my fiancé's familiar, she belongs to me as well."
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| "You're possessive as ever," jested the dhampir.
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| "Holy Father forbid a ruler who ''isn't'' possessive," Sylviane countered. "They might start losing pieces of their country here and there."
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| Turning to face Kaede from over the smaller girl's right shoulder, Sylviane finally decided to talk to her depressed doll:
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| "Kaede, I tell you this as my father once told me the same thing -- in war, your enemies are here for the same reason you are: to serve and to protect. Once battle begins, you win or you lose. You kill or be killed. It's either your life, your friends, your country... or theirs. And until you're willing to surrender everything you hold dear or they offer the same to you, there is no middle ground..."
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| Even as the Princess spoke, her delicate fingers continued to gently brush back fine, silky strands of canary-white hair that pooled around Kaede.
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| "--Respect your foes, for they are the same as you. But never hesitate to kill them where they stand so long as they hold steel."
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| Meanwhile, Cecylia nodded along with a thoughtful smile.
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| A bit begrudgingly, Kaede agreed as well:
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| "I... I know all that. But it's just..."
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| ''Knowing it and doing it are still two entirely different things.''
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| But that wasn't something any amount of reasoning by others could fix.
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| "...I just wish we could have won without destroying so many lives."
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| "Everyone believes they're just, everyone wants to win," Sylviane said quietly. "But to achieve that with little or no bloodshed is rare accomplishment indeed... one that required the highest caliber of military command."
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| "Thus to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting," Cecylia added sagely while brushing a nonexistent beard.
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| "Who is that from again?" the Princess asked, mirroring Kaede's exact thoughts.
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| She could have sworn she read those very words in ''The Art of War''.
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| "The 1st Sun General of the Dawn Imperium," Cecylia answered, referring to the superpower in the eastern continent of Eos.
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| Two millenniums ago, it was the Inner Sea Imperium and the Dawn Imperium that signed the accord "Two Realms Under Heaven", splitting the world into two respective spheres of influence that still shaped geopolitical and cultural boundaries today.
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| "Unfortunately, Pascal isn't that good yet," Sylviane spoke Kaede's mind once more.
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| "Neither was its originator when he first started," countered Cecylia. "It took him a lifetime to perfect his ways of war. They say that by the end, he wrote those lines because he grew absolutely sick of spilling blood."
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| "So the only way to avoid bloodshed in war is to get better, and the only way to get better... is by bloodying your foes."
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| ''Talk about a catch twenty-two,'' Kaede summed up her own words.
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| "I don't want to sound callous," the Princess began. "But you're his familiar, Kaede. This is the path you'll have to help him along, so you best become acquainted with it."
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| "Easy for you to say," Kaede lashed back.
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| She regretted it almost immediately. Sylviane was the one person she really couldn't afford to throw temper at.
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| But as she turned face Sylviane with a "sorry", what she met instead was a smile filled with nostalgic melancholy.
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| "No, you're right. It is ''easy'' for me to say..."
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| The Princess replied before exhaling deeply, her shoulders visibly sagging.
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| "--Perhaps one day you'll figure out just what it means for me to wear this tiara of a crown."
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| Kaede had barely a second to ponder, before royal hands reached over and began to undo her blouse.
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| "Cecil says that your skin is just as beautiful as your hair, so let's have some fun and take a look."
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| 'Fun' was the last thing on her mind as Sylviane began to strip her quickly and... almost forcefully, just short of tearing her clothes off.
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| Within a minute, Kaede was down to just her satin undergarments, as pure and white as the freshly fallen snow. They were warm and soothing to the touch, but she nevertheless felt cold and vulnerable as her hands huddled around her meager chest.
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| "P-please stop... Your Highness," her wispy voice cried out.
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| Sylviane then leaned in behind her to whisper into her ear:
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| "Should I also ask you to 'please stop' sleeping in my fiancé's cabin? Would that be fair? I hear the barrack cabins are quite crowded -- maybe they'll have to give you a bed among the men..."
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| ''No...''
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| Kaede froze at once. Her only night spent in a stranger's room was her first night in Pascal's dorm. She never wanted to experience that terrible anxiety again...
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| ''Y-you, you witch!'' she could only curse back within the sanctum of her own mind.
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| Taking the opportunity, Sylviane gently brush her hand down the spine of Kaede's barren back, leaving a ticklish sensation and a trail of heat down her exposed skin.
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| "You promised to obey me, remember?" the whispering voice continued with a sensual edge, its breath hot against the back of her ear.
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| The combined sensations soon left Kaede shivering all over.
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| "Your skin is really sensitive," the Princess declared happily as she kissed the nape of the smaller girl's neck. "It's a shame I don't have my wardrobe here."
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| Across from them, Cecylia simply nodded back as she continued to observe with a faint smirk.
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| Before Kaede had a moment to relax, she gasped aloud as Sylviane rested the hand across her upper thighs, lightly stroking the exposed flesh above her thighhigh stockings.
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| It sent tingles across her entire body.
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| "Pleeease..." Kaede pleaded as she cringed her eyes closed.
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| She could already feel the moisture pool within her eyes even as her feminine body began to heat up.
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| "No..." came the slow reply.
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| ''Even though she already know I'm...'' Kaede thought, before her rationality managed its last conclusion this morning:
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| ''She's doing this on purpose.''
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| "But keep begging softly," whispered Sylviane as her fingers continued creeping up Kaede's delicate, inner thigh. "And maybe I'll consider..."
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| ...And like that, the harassment continued on for what felt like an hour.
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| By the end, Kaede was nearly sobbing as she trembled all over.
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| Surprisingly, it was also the Princess who rhythmically stroked her back until she calmed back down.
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| Kaede just couldn't understood the purpose of it all. Was it punishment for her impudence? Or was Sylviane just trying to assert her dominance again?
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| The only thing she thought she knew was that joining Cecylia or Sylviane only added to her problems.
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| Yet... as she left the cabin, her stress somehow felt more relieved from before entering it.
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| ...
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| Later that night, when Cecylia visited Sylviane after dinner for another chat, she reflected her surprise at the day's events:
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| "I never thought I'd hear you consoling another girl. Try to, anyway. Just feels so odd coming from our sadistic princess."
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| Sylviane immediately frowned back in rebuttal:
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| "I am ''not'' sadistic!"
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| Cecylia grinned as she gave her friend a tilted, knowing look:
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| "You enjoy bullying smaller girls until they get teary because you find them cuter that way. That's totally sadism, even if it's still on the mild side."
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| The Princess almost rolled her eyes with a "whatever" expression.
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| "She's definitely a submissive though," the dhampir smiled again after a few seconds' pause. "It was even more glaringly obvious than last time."
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| Sylviane smirked a little in response, before she looked back to her friend:
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| "Thanks for the tip before."
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| "What are friends for?" Cecylia rhymed back, before the two of them started giggling again like normal girls of their age.
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| <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
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| Jarl Asgeirr Vintersvend scratched his white beard as his icy-blue gaze stared unblinking through the glass windows.
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| Steel reinforced and molded from a single rock column, the Air Docking Tower lay at the apex of a V-shaped cliff that rose twenty-stories from the shores below. From its control room at the top, Asgeirr should have been able to see the waves for kilopaces around...
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| Instead he could barely make out Aurora's bulwark-like head in the dense icy fog.
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| His skywhale and flagship was moored below, tethered to the tower alongside three other skywhales. They were also asleep -- their first break in three days' time. Meanwhile, the dockhands took this opportunity to move one wheelbarrow after another of supplies on-board; at least, that was what they should be doing.
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| "Welcome back to civilization, Asgeirr."
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| The old man with a perpetual frown never bothered to turn around. Even after twenty years, he still recognized the gruff voice of his half-brother and one-time liege: Jarl Eyvindur Sigmundsen of Kattegen.
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| Asgeirr soon felt the hard muscles of a powerful arm reach around his bony shoulders. They wasted no time before pulling him into a warm, familial embrace.
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| "Cold as ever," Eyvindur chuckled before releasing his friend. He then turned about to gaze out the same window, though his arm continued to hang around the other's shoulders.
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| "Still upholding your name as our Admiral Winter?"
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| "They call me Admiral Winter because winter always comes with me, not because I'm quiet," Asgeirr corrected him. "I just found it amusing how southerners consider us 'barbaric Northmen', yet we turn right around and call the tribesmen of the frontier 'uncivilized'."
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| The Jarl's grin lit up his entire face. Asgeirr didn't even have to face him to feel its warmth.
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| "Isn't that why we call it the 'frontier'?"
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| "But the frontier is where we belong. Settling wildlands and recovering realms the dragonlords once held, not back here squabbling over strips of dirt."
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| The one skill that Hyperboreans of Skagen excelled at above all other peoples was their seamanship. Here boys learned to swim before they could even walk, to knot a rope before they could truly talk. Saltwater was the grass of their prairie, with trimaran hulls in place of saddles and steeds.
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| ...Except for those who bonded to skywhales, of course.
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| Not that the difference was huge: the storms remained the same, just replace waves with clouds.
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| "Hey, I didn't vote for this," Eyvindur countered. "In fact, we never voted at all. Those idiots in the south decided to mobilize on their own, and before we could force an edict on them the Wickers struck first. What were we suppose to do? Watch and do nothing while those heathens take our final bastion on the continent?"
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| Asgeirr didn't bother answering, and Eyvindur took a moment's silence to calm back down.
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| "Hyperboreans never abandon their brothers, no matter what. You know that better than anyone. Out in the frontier, our ways are all you can depend on," reasoned Eyvindur. "Västergötland took a thrashing and lost their fleet during their fall campaign, yet they didn't hesitate for even a half-day before issuing a call to arms in our name when the Wickers invaded."
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| "This is arguably their fault. Were it not for their marauders and adventurer scum, we'd have hammered out a treaty with Weichsel centuries ago," Asgeirr almost sighed.
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| It wasn't entirely fair. The southerners' own prejudices were also to blame for neglecting to differentiate between the Hyperboreans.
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| "And were it not for their warriors, the Imps would have kicked us off the continent even longer ago."
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| The burly Eyvindur then slowly shook his head:
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| "No point with endless 'what ifs'. We are what we are -- different, but united by our honor, the dragons' honor. Those Trinitians can call us barbaric all they like, but if that's what it takes to not devolve into a society of scheming, backstabbing, morally-depraved mongrels, then I'll gladly remain a 'barbarian'."
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| "Barbarian..."
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| Asgeirr echoed as he eyed the silhouette of a volcanic drake in the fog. The armored beast belonged to the lead rider of Aurora's on-duty 'combat air patrol'. Except given the need to hide the skywhales' presence, they were kept on reserve atop Aurora's blocky head instead.
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| "We'll see who the barbarians are when we rain fire and ice upon them."
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| "Don't forget the acid," chuckled his companion in good humor. "Ice is in our blood. But acid, that's ''your'' trademark! Should of named you Admiral Vinegar instead. Cool ''and'' sour!"
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| Asgeirr exhaled sharply. It was as close to a snort as he would get.
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| It was hard not to develop a 'sour' personality. Growing up, Eyvindur was the Jarldom's mighty heir, full of confident masculinity, while Asgeirr was the scholarly bastard mage. Girls flocked to see Eyvindur in action, while nobody even noticed him -- until he made a name for himself circumnavigating the world, single-handedly.
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| He had broken his brother's heart before departure, yet Eyvindur welcomed him back with open arms and a grand feast to spread his fame. Since then, Asgeirr vowed to himself that he would never betray blood again.
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| "Just make sure they don't notice," he replied after a long pause. "Keeping the Frontier Fleet fogged up the entire way back already killed my men's mood. I'd hate to see it go to waste."
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| "Don't worry," Jarl Eyvindur reassured while patting Asgeirr's shoulder. "I handpicked every man on this tower right now. There's not a single one of them that I wouldn't trust with my life."
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| <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
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