Daybreak:Volume 3 Chapter 16: Difference between revisions

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===Chapter 16 - Judgment at Dawn===
===Chapter 16 - Reason to Be===


"Your Grace, please wake up."
Kaede shivered as she stepped out of her tent and closed its flaps behind her. A cold breeze blew down between the rows of tents and cabins, which lay unevenly distributed in the barren, wintry forest.


Pascal's consciousness was still forming when a hand shook his shoulders.
The skies were still black, with thick clouds obscuring most of the huge indigo 'moon'. Nevertheless, the massive celestial body which stretched across a third of the heavens continued to shed light upon the land. Meanwhile, the campfires and oil lanterns that dotted the encampment further illuminated its paths.


"Your Grace."
Kaede gave off a tiny sneeze as another wintry draft blew in from the coast. She had turned up the warmth from her enchanted undergarments. However, the parts of her body it didn't cover still felt the biting cold. The shirt and jacket of her pseudo-uniform simply didn't provide enough insulation. She had to pull out her fur-lined winter coat for the first time.


"Kaede, stop..." Pascal mumbled as his arm reached up to his throbbing forehead. He had clearly fallen asleep on his desk again. "Just... give me a minute."
''Good thing I did some shopping before leaving Nordkreuz,'' Kaede thought before nodding to a trio of patrolling soldiers whom she strolled past.


"I'm not your familiar," the voice spoke again before Pascal realized that it was masculine. "And we don't have a minute."
The Samaran girl could hear the sound of a viol being played. Its gentle melody came from a hill near the encampment's northern edge. The knoll overlooked the surrounding forests just inland from the coast. There, the rangers had been organized to keep a watch through the night, divided into three shifts. The final shift which should be there now came from Kaede's banner.


The fog in Pascal's head quickly began to disperse. His eyes snapped open as he stood up straight. His vision was still blurry as it locked onto the figure of a disheveled Oriflamme Armiger.
''Let's check up on them,'' the familiar thought. ''It's my responsibility as their commander after all.''


"Sir Robert."
Though Kaede would be lying to herself if she claimed that was the only reason. The Samaran girl had woken up an hour ago, after yet another terrible nightmare. Its exact details had faded from her mind too quickly to remember, but Kaede knew that it was also slightly different than her usual. This left her with a terrible anxiety, a feeling that either something awful had happened, or was about to.


The handsome young man stood just beside Pascal's desk in his cabin. Judging by the darkness through the window, the sun had yet to peak over the horizon.
Unable to fall asleep again, she spent the hour twisting and turning, until she grew tired of lying about. Her mind couldn't stop wandering from one concern to another -- some about the war, but just as many involved what came afterwards.


"Your Grace, we have a problem," Robert began. "Major Erwan..."
Sylviane could apologize with the utmost sincerity, but that didn't change the fact that she was Pascal's fiancée. Worse yet, she was an envious ''Empress-to-be'', with all the stressful responsibilities and abusable powers that the title entails.


Pascal tensed the moment he heard the name. Erwan was the commander of the Royal Lotharin Rangers Battalion, and -- according to Sylviane -- one of the few whose loyalty to the crown was undoubted. Because of this, Sylviane had requested for him to keep an eye on Edith-Estellise's activities.
A Chinese proverb once claimed that 'to accompany a sovereign was like accompanying a tiger'. One could never know when the monarch might grow temperamental and bite one's head off. The fact that Kaede's very existence was an intrusion upon this tigress' hunting grounds only exacerbated the problem.


''Has the God-damned 'Saint' mutinied?'' The Landgrave stared at Robert with alarm.
Sure, Kaede could leave. She had been thinking about it ever since she received the immigration documents from Captain Marko. She was sure Pascal would also give her some money to help get started with a new life, even though much of his funds had been sunk into the war and the reconstruction of Nordkreuz. But, what then? She was still stuck in a world where none of her skills were particularly marketable, in a body unfit for manual labor.


"Major Erwan reported that one of the screening platoons he left behind was attacked earlier this morning by Cataliyan light cavalry."
Kaede had learned enough to realize that even her high school chemistry did not compare against practical Hyperion alchemy. Without access to textbooks and online sources, Kaede couldn't even list what compounds to mix for building mortar, let alone industrial reagents like prussic acid and ammonium nitrate.


Pascal blinked twice as he readjusted his thought process. To protect the army's retreat, the rangers left several detachments between eight to twelve kilopaces behind to screen the main force. It wasn't unusual for them to skirmish with Cataliyan advanced scouts, but...
The Grand Republic of Samara was a mercantile oligarchy, not a European Union welfare state. She would have to rebuild her life from nothing. For a girl in this era with neither training nor trade, that meant she would most likely wind up as a domestic servant, subject to the whims of yet another master and mistress.


He stared out the dark window. ''Not at this hour.''
''Is such a gamble really worth it?''


"By how many?"
Kaede had no doubt that her 'easy' life since coming to this world had been Pascal's blessing. Apart from the war, she had effectively traveled back several centuries and maintained more or less the same standard of living, which could only be achieved through wealth and privilege. Furthermore, Pascal might toe the line, but whenever push came to shove, he ultimately respected her boundaries. Meanwhile Sylviane was... at least cordial on most days.


"At least two hundred, before the ''Farspeak'' link cut," the armiger answered as the cabin door opened, admitting Sylviane and her maid Mari.
There was no guarantee that another throw of the dice would return any better results. Besides, there was also something else, a feeling of reluctance that she hadn't quite wrapped her thoughts around yet...


"I've sent orders to wake the army up," the Princess added, her hands still fixing her tiara and smoothing out her hair. "They must be raiding us."
''I really hate risk-taking, don't I?'' The Samaran girl climbed the hill's slopes with a sigh. ''At least, when I'm not being impulsive about it.''


Pascal pulled out his arcane pocketwatch. It was almost daybreak.
"Morning, Sir. You're up early." A lanky, freckled young yeoman with ginger hair and a bright-green gaze waved as Kaede neared the crest. It was Sergeant Gaspard, and he was the only one who stood to keep a vigilant watch upon the surroundings.


The Cataliyans should know that he reached Glywysing. With a town at his back and an early warning to alert them, there was no way a raid could inflict any significant damage. The only value of such an attack would be to disturb the army's rest, but when the soldiers were about to wake up anyway...
Four other figures huddled around the campfire near him. Two of them wore the white winter cloaks of the rangers, and they resembled each other just enough to be brothers. Both of them yawned back with muttered greetings -- a sign of Rhin-Lotharingie's lax military discipline. If this was Weichsel, they would have at least stood up and saluted to greet their commander.


It just didn't make sense.
"Good morning." Kaede replied as she suppressed the contagious yawn. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I might as well come out to enjoy the scenery."


But if it wasn't a skirmish between scouts, and it wasn't a raid, then that left only one option -- an aggressive, all-out morning assault after a concealed overnight march.
The third individual -- a stoic, middle-aged woman -- then gave a brief nod of courtesy to Kaede. Her cerulean blue cloak revealed her status as an Oriflamme Armiger, which meant that her rank was at least equal to that of Kaede's. Her reason for being here was apparent as the fourth figure was none other than her charge.


The Caliphate certainly had the motive: to seek vengeance and restore moral after yesterday's disaster at Lysardh Point, plus the opportunity to strike while the Lotharin force remained divided.
Vivienne's eyes were still closed as she played the viol in her hands. Her instrument had a body made of transparent crystal. Its hollow interior glowed with faint hues of blue and purple light that shifted as she pulled a bow across its strings. The viol was clearly a magical instrument that served to amplify her music -- a soothing melody reminiscent of a lullaby which drifted across the entire camp.


He really should have expected this. Had he been in their shoes, he might have opted for the same gamble.
Nevertheless, Kaede could sense that there was barely a trace of mana laced into Vivienne's music this time. It wasn't surprising, considering the winterborn had shown signs of magical exhaustion at the end of yesterday's battle. She had retired to her tent almost as soon as they had made camp.


"No," Pascal's voice was solemn. "They moved up under the cover of darkness. This is a full attack."
''Not surprising that a song which affects an entire army would take a toll on her,'' Kaede thought. She then sat quietly down on one of the logs and enjoyed the conclusion of Vivienne's melody.


"How---?" Sylviane looked back in surprise.
The Winterborn girl continued to play until the song ended. Her brilliant-blue eyes only reopened as she lifted her bow from the viol's strings and turned towards Kaede.


"I will explain later, but we need to assemble the entire army into battle formation, ''immediately''!" Pascal stood up and strode towards the door.
"Good morning, Dame Kaede," Vivienne spoke with a bright smile as she put her instrument away into a large, extradimensional pocket which slung over her long skirt.


There was no time to retreat. The Cataliyan force's combat elements were mostly mounted. If they shed their logistical units and traveled light through the woods, then they were most likely just twenty to thirty minutes out.
"Good morning, Lady Vivienne," Kaede greeted more formally this time. "Shouldn't Your Ladyship still be resting?"


"And Sylv," Pascal stopped the Princess before she could follow her two armigers out. His concerned eyes met with his fiancée's pretty wisteria gaze.
"There's really no need to call me by that," Vivienne chuckled slightly as she replied. "Most people only address me 'Lady' because I summoned Olifant," she referred to her absent phoenix. "I don't actually have a real title."


This time, they truly had their backs to the wall. There was no river to cover a retreat. The army would stand its ground or be destroyed.
Kaede's eyes widened as this was surprising to hear. She had always thought of Vivienne as nobility due to the way people spoke of her.


His fiancée's countenance softened with sentiment. This really could be their last private moment together.
"At any rate, seven hours of sleep was enough for me. I'd rather come out here to enjoy the fresh air." The Winterborn smiled and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath of the frosty air. She then added as she stood up from her rocky seat: "Would you like to take a walk with me, Kaede? My legs are a little stiff after sitting here for so long."


However, Pascal's final statement was anything but romantic:
The Samaran girl blinked as she recognized the invitation for a private conversation. It certainly wasn't what she had expected first thing in the morning. Nevertheless, the choice was obvious as she nodded in return.


"You should give one more order to the men," his expressed hardened. "Any officer or noble who retreats without orders today should be treated as a traitor. They are to be killed on sight and their family's rank and privileges stripped."
"Of course."


...Or, as Kaede once recounted during one of their military history discussions: ''Not a step back!''


...




<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
Kaede walked beside Vivienne with an awkward gait as the two strolled among the tents. The young winterborn had hooked her arm around Kaede's in a display of public intimacy that the Samaran girl was neither accustomed to nor exactly comfortable with. Though thankfully in this early hour, the only people who saw were the bodyguard who followed discretely behind them and a few occasional patrols.


Nevertheless, the reason for Vivienne's closeness became apparent as the Winterborn cast a ''Barrier Veil'' spell -- which combined the effect spellword for anti-eavesdropping wards with that of a form word for a personal bubble. Kaede also didn't miss the fact that this showed Vivienne to be a 'dual magic' user just like Pascal. She was clearly capable of using aura magic in addition to her bardic fae concordance magic.


"I thought we could use a private moment to properly introduce ourselves this time," Vivienne began in a sweet, singsong voice. "Especially given our... similarities," she then added with a giggle.


Edith emerged from her tent as she finished tightening the straps to her breastplate.
''You mean the fact that we basically look like twins, since Pascal summoned me with your image in mind?'' Kaede shifted uncomfortably before she hesitantly brought herself to ask:


The sun's halo had just peaked over the horizon, its rays dyeing the skies a dawning red. A low morning mist still enshrouded the camp, and most of its soldiers either asleep or just waking up. But as the Saint marched between tents, she found the Knights Hospitaller of the ''Sword Lily'' battalion already assembled in neat rows and waiting.
"Are you... not bothered by it?"


Despite being a paramilitary religious order and therefore not officially part of the army, the ''Sword Lily'' was one of the most elite units in the Lotharin order of battle. In every engagement, Edith relied on them to hold the most critical junction in her front line. But after weeks of ferocious fighting, the battalion had been reduced from over two hundred sisters, to just twenty-nine.
"To be honest, I've always wanted a young sibling," Vivienne replied with another giggle. "A younger twin is all the better."


King Alistair had left Edith several royal armigers to help replenish her numbers. Yet in this most critical moment, Edith decided that she couldn't trust them. No, only her sword-sisters would watch her back in the coup today.
''I guess that's one way to look at it,'' Kaede inwardly sighed. "Though unlike real siblings, we didn't exactly grow up together."


Leading the unit was Mother Abbess Anne, who greeted her foster daughter and commander with a knightly salute.
"Literally worlds apart, so I've heard," Vivienne turned to Kaede with a knowing grin.


"We're ready."
Clearly, the Samaran's attempt to subtly hint that the former was being far too close for comfort had fallen on deaf ears. Instead, the Winterborn pulled even closer to Kaede until their shoulders pressed against each other.


Edith nodded as she took a deep breath. This was truly the point of no return.
"But that's all the reason why we should get to know each other better," Vivienne enthusiastically added. "Our masters are betrothed after all. We're likely to see plenty of each other, if not be routinely mistaken for each other by others."


The two women paused as they heard a strange, unintelligible cry in the distance. Its direction coming from the center of the overall encampment.
''Masters?'' Kaede raised her eyebrows at the way the other girl put it. Almost everyone knew that Kaede was a familiar, where the word 'master' had a very different meaning than the colloquial implication of 'liege lord'.


"Must be one of the nobles," Anne puzzled. Then, with her annoyance rising: "I told the four of them to marshal their troops within their own encampments to ''minimize'' attention...!"
"Lady Vivienne, if..."


The blast of a distant trumpet interrupted Anne, with one prolonged note following another which called for an emergency assembly.
"Vivi is fine." Vivienne interjected before her smile turned Cheshire. "As long as you don't mind me calling you Kaede."


"Assemble f...!" the yelling grew closer.
''Why do I get the feeling that even if I did, it's not going to stop you?'' Kaede couldn't help thinking.


"Someone must have warned them!" Anne glared into the morning mist before swiveling back to the Saint and Oriflamme. "We must act, now! While we still retain an element of surprise!"
Nevertheless, Kaede certainly recognized the value of being on familiar terms with those close to Princess. If there was one lesson she received from Sylviane's hypomania episode, it was that the restraining influence of those around the Princess could make all the difference during the midst of a royal mood swing. Therefore, it was particularly important for her welfare that she maintain friendly terms with as many of Sylviane's close retainers as possible.


But Edith stopped her with a raised hand.
"Vivi then." The Samaran girl's smile was a little forced as she returned to her question, "if you don't mind me asking -- just what exactly is your relationship to the Princess?"


Something was wrong.
"She's my mistress," Vivienne said in a seemingly indifferent tone as the two walked along.


Something was ''terribly'' wrong.
"No, I mean..." Kaede hesitated as she pondered how to put it delicately. "Is there anything more than a liege-retainer relationship?"


Edith wasn't sure why yet. But her intuition was screaming at her to stop.
"Yes, she's my mistress," the other girl repeated.


''What is the Holy Father trying to tell me?''
Kaede's brows furrowed as she stared at her counterpart. It was only then when she noticed that a wry expression entered Vivienne's smiling countenance.


Her gaze met the eyes of her phoenix Durandal, its majestic blue form perched atop her spaulder.
Pascal had said that Vivienne had been captured by Tauheed Corsairs as a young girl and sold into slavery. However, now that she was back in Rhin-Lotharingie, surely she wasn't a slave any longer? The traditional institution of slavery wasn't even legal in the Empire. And it seemed unlikely that Vivienne would be an indentured servant as a result of debt or legal punishment.


The trumpet calls spread as more platoon signalers woke and joined in.
"I... I don't understand," Kaede commented with a puzzled frown.


"ASSEMBLE FOR BATTLE!"
Vivienne's smile turned bittersweet as she examined Kaede for a moment before starting to explain:


This time, the distant, magically-amplified words rang loud and clear.
"Kaede, I know Pascal sent you here to keep an eye on me..."


A column of two dozen noble armigers in half-plate emerged from the mist. Lead by the Duchess Jeanette, they hustled into Edith's encampment.
The familiar girl couldn't stop her eyes from widening in response, which gave all the confirmation that Vivienne could ever need. However, before she could even have a chance to interject, the Winterborn raised a hand to stop her.


"Just what is going on!? What are you waiting for?"
"I don't mind it, really." Vivienne added with sincere acceptance in her brilliant-blue gaze. "Even Emperor Geoffroi never really trusted me, and he had good reason not to. After all, I had been a slave since I was just nine years old, and I had spent most of my life growing up in the Caliphate. Furthermore, my former master was none other than the current Qadi al-Quda, the chief judicial advisor and left hand of the Caliph."


Yet before anyone could reply, a runner sprinted in from the direction of the central camp.
''No wonder they don't trust you then!'' Kaede's eyes swelled as she almost blurted out. ''You're way too highly connected with the enemy side!''


"We're... about to be attacked!" The young signal officer halted before Edith, breathless. "Princess... requests for you to raise the cross!"
It didn't even matter that she was a slave. After all, Kaede knew that many countries on Earth, including the Islamic empires, had an abundance of slaves who rose to high ranks. Many of them -- such as Ibrahim Pasha, the Grand Vizier to Suleiman the Magnificent of the Ottoman Empire -- had achieved military and administrative authority second to only the ruler.


"Attacked!?" Anne demanded. "By the Caliphate? How!?"
"--And as you might imagine," Vivienne continued. "There aren't exactly many ways that a young girl could be usefully enslaved, especially if she's exotic and pretty."


"I don't know!" the officer answered. "Her Highness simply said it's an emergency! And that... and that..."
Kaede's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as she finally realized what should have been obvious from the start.


"And what!?"
"You... you're a..."


"A-any commander who fails to answer the call to arms and deserts the field is to be summarily executed as a traitor!"
"I'm a sex slave, yes," Vivienne's smile was sardonic as she spoke the words that Kaede could not bring herself to say. "And if you know anything about sex slaves in our world, it's that we are marked for life. After all, a slave in the bedroom is privy to more of her master's secrets than any other servant. No self-respecting lord would want to see one escape with all their confidential knowledge."


"PREPARE FOR BATTLE!" more yells began to resound across the camp.
"But... what about you then?" Kaede stammered out as she struggled to process the implications of this.


"SENIOR COMMANDERS TO THE COMMAND CABIN! ALL FORMATIONS PREPARE FOR COMBAT!"
"I'm unconsummated, which means that my mark of slavery was never activated," the girl added with a look of painful acceptance in her eyes. "My former master thought it was outrageous that a mere child could be sold for sexual use. He bought and raised me in his harem, but more as a daughter than as a concubine."


"I still need to inform Duke Roland. Excuse me, Milady," the officer added before running off.
"Wait," Kaede was puzzled as she remembered something that she had read. "I thought a slave tattoo could only be successfully inscribed onto commoners, due to the natural repulsion between different mages' mana?"


He clearly wasn't concerned about Saint Estelle's willingness to fight.
"That would normally be true. However, I'm a metamage," Vivienne explained with a faint sigh. "It's a rare trait among mages, and it means our mana has transfusive properties. It's how phoenixes can share their mana with their masters, as well as why my concordance magic -- a form of spellcraft that the fae created uniquely for metamages -- can affect nobles and yeomen."


"This is a trick," the Duchess seethed. "She knows!"
"But in turn, you're also more vulnerable to hostile sorceries," Kaede realized. It was clear from Vivienne's tone that she viewed it as more of a curse than a gift.


The Mother Abbess stared back, doubt and turmoil written across her face. Was this alert real, or a pretense? Were they truly under attack by infidels? Or was this just a ruse to round up the traitors?
"Quite." the latter nodded. "A mage slave is rare enough. A mage faekissed slave was virtually guaranteed to be one-of-a-kind. I was marketed as a collectible and sold for quite a fortune, you should know," the Winterborn bitterly joked.


Everything was rapidly spinning out of control.
''Which means that whatever moral reasons your former master had for buying you, they probably weren't the only reasons either.'' Kaede considered before a horrifying thought came to mind from Vivienne's early statement.


A breeze seemed to pick up in the sparsely wooded army encampment, and the morning mist began to thin. It was not enough to see into the distance, but it was sufficient to spot a hazy, cerulean halo in the air -- the burning-blue figure of an Oriflamme.
"You said you're 'unconsummated'. But you still bear a slave's mark. Does that mean...?"


Apart from Edith, there was only one other paladin in camp right now -- Her Highness, Princess Sylviane.
"Any mage who takes my virginity will become my owner for the rest of my life." The Winterborn girl's bittersweet smile returned.


...And it was headed straight this way.
Kaede shuddered as her entire body suddenly felt freezing. She couldn't even imagine having something like that hanging over her head. Vivienne wasn't even particularly good at defending herself, as her specialty magic was slow to channel and her small physique looked almost fragile.


"Edith!" the Princess' voice resounded over the air. "Raise the cross! The Cataliyans are coming!"
It was then that another realization struck the familiar girl: "Is that why you let the Princess treat you as she likes? Because Her Highness can offer you protection in a way that few others can?"


"This is our chance!" Duchess Jeanette stressed at the saint from just a few steps away. "Seize command before she takes our heads and finds another reason to withdraw!
"Syls certainly does that." Vivienne chuckled. It was the first genuine smile she had expressed since they began this topic.


"Stand ready!"
"Not even the most brazen lord would dare force himself upon a handmaiden who directly serves his future Empress. However," the Winterborn then met Kaede's gaze with a knowing look. "I think anyone whose ego does not rule their rationality should see the benefits of allowing ''royalty'' to treat me so affectionately. It is such a cheap price to pay, when one considers the value of trust from a crown princess."


The Duchess ordered her armigers to deploy into combat formation as the cerulean halo drew closer. Her orders were immediately echoed by Mother Abbess Anne.
''She did grow up in a harem, after all,'' Kaede pondered on the political acumen of her almost-twin. After all, outside of literary wish-fulfillment, the harems of the ruling class had always been a hyper-competitive and ruthless world of mercenary mothers and mistresses. It was an intensely hierarchical atmosphere where the pecking order was established through backstabbing schemes and cutthroat intrigue.


"Stand down!" Edith yelled back at her own knights, leaving them at a loss.
Regardless, the Samaran girl couldn't help but respond with a wry smile herself this time. After all, did Vivienne's rationale not reflect that of her own when she faced the choice of whether or not she should obey the Princess' unusual requests? Of course, she was more focused on not stepping on any more toes at the time. Yet the desire to earn Sylviane's goodwill first was the same.


Even Anne stared back in confusion, her gaze shouting 'what are you doing?'.
"Still..." Kaede thought out loud as she pondered why Vivienne did not choose the alternative, the same choice that Kaede kept in consideration even now. "Couldn't you have just vanished? Go somewhere isolated and live a life where nobody would know who or what you are. With your magical abilities, there must be plenty of ways you can make a living."


The timing weighed heavily on Edith's mind. The attack, the rally, the orders given that tolerated no retreat...
"Truuue, I ''could,''" Vivienne replied as she pressed a finger into her soft cheeks in pretend thoughtfulness. "Buuut... doesn't that feel a little bit like I've given up on life altogether? To just hide somewhere and wait for time to pass?"


''This cannot be a coincidence,'' the Saint's thoughts raced as she faced the incoming Princess. ''Nothing happened by mere coincidence!''
Kaede raised her eyebrows. ''I hadn't even thought of it that way.''


She had asked for a sign last night -- a sign from the Holy Father which had clearly been given.
"I may come from unfortunate circumstances, but in other ways I was also really lucky," Vivienne added with a serene smile. "I was born with a rare magical talent, an affinity that many would love to have. I have been blessed with loving parents and educated by wise teachers. I even summoned a phoenix, a feat that thousands dream of yet few could ever achieve. And now, I find myself in the innermost circle around the heiress of an Empire."


"Edith!" Her Highness soon landed with two armigers in tow, no more than twenty steps away with her hands still empty and unarmed.
Vivienne then paused in her steps. She turned towards Kaede and stared into the Samaran's rose-quartz gaze:


Sylviane then paused as she looked upon the assembled knights and armigers, clearly realizing that something was wrong.
"Throughout the entire history of Hyperion, how many others have received such a unique combination of rare opportunities as I have?"


"Take her!" The Duchess pointed a steely finger. "Or we will all hang by nightfall!"
''That's certainly true,'' Kaede thought as she reflected upon her own fortunes. Sure, her situation of being pulled across worldly boundaries must be infinitesimally rare. Yet through it all, she had been brought into the household of a powerful and influential family under a responsible if not honorable lord -- one that was positioned to influence the outcome of geopolitical struggles between entire empires.


Edith had no doubt that the second half of the order was directed at her. But as twenty noble armigers charged forward with their shield and flails, the saint closed her eyes and reached one conclusion.
It was an chance that her father Konstantin, who often felt frustrated by the geopolitics of Earth and his own powerlessness, would have loved to receive.


''Thank you, Holy Father.''
"I'm not quite ready to give up on life yet." Vivienne remarked as the two resumed their stroll through the army camp. "Not when I'm in a rare position to achieve so much with my life. Sure, it might be dangerous for me, even more so than the average person. But isn't that what life is always about? To face risk and discomfort and make something of ourselves?"


She felt the heat as the empathetic Durandal merged into her body. She felt the coursing of righteous authority, an absolute conviction in where her duty laid.
The Samaran girl couldn't help but smile back at her counterpart as she replied with a thoughtful nod.


"IN THE NAME OF THE HOLY FATHER, YOU WILL STAND DOWN!"
''Vivi really is wise for her age. It really shows just how much she has been through.''


The leading armiger had already swung his flail. But in a moment of distraction, his attack was easily deflected by the royal maid's shield reflex. The rest of the men half-halted, their turning eyes bewildered by clashing of orders.
"Besides," Vivienne then added with a giggle that seemed far more appropriate for her age. "Syls does give amazing cuddles and headpats."


Her Highness, however, did not hesitate. With no doubt of the perpetrator, she materialized her shield and meteor hammer from extradimensional storage.


"Elspeth!" Sylviane called her bodyguard as she pinned Duchess Jeanette with a death glare.
...


The petite royal armiger didn't even voice a reply. In a surge of magic, Elspeth leaped over the heads of the armored troops. She spun once in mid air and flung out a hook-dagger, its rope trailing behind as the killing edge shot straight for the face.


The Duchess' own shield was caught out of position and she barely stepped aside in time. The dagger's bladed hook drew a line of blood as it flew across her cheek. But as Elspeth's gloved fingers caught the rope and gave it a hard yank to her other side, the retracting steel pierced into Jeanette's cheeks and sheared off half of her face.
The two girls spent the next hour strolling about the camp in circles while chatting. Perhaps not surprisingly, Vivienne's voluntary disclosure of her past was not 'free', as she expected the same from Kaede in return. As a result, Kaede spent a considerable amount of time telling Vivienne about her time growing up on Earth. She even told her almost-twin about her male gender before she came to this world.


Bloodcurdling screams emerged from the noblewoman as she reached up to her mutilated expression. Yet even that lasted only seconds as Elspeth landed in a forward dash, and plunged another dagger straight into the side of Jeanette's throat.
Vivienne's only response was an excited hug and "ooooh, you're like having a twin little brother and a twin little sister ''at the same time.''"


With their liege killed before their eyes, the armigers turned their attention back to the Princess, their glares a mixture of turmoil, uncertainty, and outrage.
It really made Kaede wonder just what exactly was Vivienne's motive in trying to befriend her. After all, she was hardly in any position of power to offer security, protection, or influence -- the values that seemed to be of most importance to the young Winterborn.


Behind her shield and that of the royal maid, Sylviane seemed to relax as she loosened her grip on the chains of her meteor hammer. She stood back straight, regal and confident, assured of her divine protection as she offered those present a chance for mercy.
Nevertheless, Vivienne eventually steered them back to the hill where their conversation first began. Sergeant Gaspard and his rangers were still there when they returned. Though in addition to several more rangers who had clearly just woken up, he was also joined by a somewhat out-of-place individual.


"Do not make me spill another drop of Lotharin blood," she warned in a deathly calm voice. "Fight, today, not for me or that traitorous bitch, but for Rhin-Lotharingie and the Holy Father, for your home and for your families! Fight with courage, and I swear before the Lord: I will not hold any of you at blame."
The new person was a woman who seemed to be in her late thirties. She had long, brown locks which flowed freely down her shoulders. Her ankle-length dress was a simple green and white, with a thick woolen shawl wrapped around her arms. Even with Rhin-Lotharingie's lack of proper military uniforms, it was apparent that she was a civilian.


A tense silence passed as the armigers remained still with weapons ready, some stealing peeks at others in confusion at what should be done now.
The army had left most of its camp followers in Roazhon to allow for faster movement. The few 'essential' ones that remained, such as blacksmiths and horse grooms, stayed with Sylviane's main force rather than march with 'Battlegroup Vivienne'.


"ALL UNITS, PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"
"Who are you?"


Another round of calls resounded through the camp's background, and it was that which seemed to finally break the stalemate.
"Her name's Gwen, a local," Gaspard introduced.


"We will hold you to your word then," the leader of the noble armigers growled back. His tone was still furious, but he nevertheless backed away before ordering his men: "Withdraw! We must prepare Her Grace's troops for battle!"
"I'm the resident alchemist and herbalist for nearby villages," Gwen smiled back as she presented a covered straw basket in her arms. "I was collecting herbs in the forest before meeting your folks."


They left without a second of delay, leaving only Princess Sylviane, Lady Edith-Estellise, and their respective entourage still in the compartmentalized camp.
"At this hour?" Kaede frowned as she looked around the hill. They were still surrounded by dark, barren forests, hauntingly illuminated by only the dim purple light of the gas giant 'moon'.


The Princess closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as though the worst was over. Her facade of composure cracked and fell apart. By the time her eyes reopened to meet Edith's, they were seething with disappointment and betrayal.
''No way I'd ever come out here alone.'' Kaede thought as she sat down on a log, while Vivienne took a seat right next to her.


But instead of showing anxiety, the saint smiled a little and breathed a sigh of relief. It was refreshing to know that the Princess still trusted her to refrain from further violence before meeting their common foe. After all, as good as Elspeth and Mari were as armigers, neither of them stood a chance of holding back the crusader saint.
Gaspard had to translate back. Courtesy of the linguistics magic Pascal worked into their familiar bond, Kaede could speak perfect Imperial. However, it seemed Gwen had a limited understanding of the language and spoke only in Brython -- one of the four main languages of Rhin-Lotharingie. And while Kaede could understand Brython thanks to the slightly-awkward translation magic from her earrings, she couldn't speak it.


"Now you know."
Thankfully, the sergeant was multilingual, which in Hyperion meant he had at least a middle class education.


For the first time in days, Edith felt a burden lift from her soul. There was no longer any plots to hide, any backstabs to scheme. She would face judgment, but with a clear conscience that she had done as the Holy Father commanded in the end.
"There are herbs best picked in the early hours before daybreak," Gwen explained.


"I ''had'' known, since before Gwilen," the Princess scorned. "But I'd ''never'' thought that you would go through with it."
"And we spotted her in the woods and asked her to join us for a chat." Gaspard added with a subtle nod that he had already verified that Gwen was telling the truth.


"Neither did I."
Kaede wasn't sure what to make of Gwen, though the stranger seemed to harbor no ill intent. She shrugged it off after another moment of scrutiny. It was, after all, hard to lie to a ranger about knowledge of the wild.


Edith closed her eyes and shook her head.
"Aren't you a little far from Weichsel?" The woman asked next as her eyes scanned Kaede's black pseudo-uniform and especially the Knight's Cross.


"But even those blessed by the Church cannot always understand the mysterious ways of our Lord. I have erred in my arrogance, and now... my due penance must be paid."
"Allies have journeyed further to support a war," Kaede simply answered.


Releasing Durandal from their unison, Edith stepped forward and knelt down on both knees. Reaching down, she carefully drew the pristine Sword of Charity and presented it to her liege with both hands.
"Is it true then that you're the familiar to our Princess' Weichsen fiancé?" One of the rangers then asked.


"Do with it as you will."
"And that you and Lady Vivienne are twin sisters?" Another followed.


For a brief moment, the Princess stayed motionless, stunned. To a knight of the holy orders, their weapon was the symbol of their monastic life. Whatever else Sylviane had expected, a display of total submission was clearly not one of them.
''Guess I should've expected that from the rumor mill.''


Edith even bowed her head towards the ground, which would have exposed the back of her thin neck had it not been for her flowing blond hair. Given the circumstances, it would be perfectly reasonable for Sylviane to grab the sword and shove it down her spine, bestowing upon her a clean death.
However, before Kaede could even respond, Vivienne grabbed her arm and pulled her in close.


"Your Highness!"  
"That's a state secret." The Winterborn girl declared sweetly. Her mannerisms all but cemented the validity of that rumor in the soldiers' minds.


Her foster mother's pleading words came from behind, follow by the sound of armored knees hitting ground.
Kaede could only exhale a silent sigh before she responded: "Yes, I am the familiar of His Grace, the Landgrave of Nordkreuz."


"The fault lays with me, not her. If--"
"I've never understood the nobles' convention," replied one of the rangers. "I mean, it has to be weird if you call him 'Your Grace' all the time."


"Mother, please," Edith interrupted with her head still bowed. "The choice was mine to make, the sin is mine to bear. I must be allowed to take responsibility before the eyes of our Lord."
"No..."


She heard the whimper of a mother in reply, but Anne said no more.
Kaede was still considering her answer when Gaspard finished translating for Gwen, and the older woman immediately took on a catty smile:


The Princess reached out with her hand, settling it on top of the holy blade. Edith felt it as the weight in her palms shifted. Any second now, her sword and life would be taken out of her hands.
"Especially when you're in bed with him."


Then, it stopped.
Gaspard coughed and nearly choked while Kaede stared back with widened eyes.


The weight of dragon-forged steel soon pressed harder into her fingers, before the Princess' armored boots stepped back.
''We've barely met for two minutes and you're already bringing up THAT!?''


"Keep it," Sylviane declared. "You'll need it today."
Meanwhile, a few of the other rangers looked between them in confusion, which seemed to indicate that they did ''not'' speak the Brython language either.


The Saint and Oriflamme looked up. Was she really being given another chance?
"Hey, what did she say?" One of them pestered the sergeant.


The Princess' phoenix-blue gaze remained a whirlpool of emotions. She sighed with exasperation as anger and betrayal mixed with mercy and kindness. But behind them all laid a firm wall of resolve, reflecting a gentle light from an unyielding will of steel.
"I do NOT sleep with him ''in that way!''" Kaede hissed.  


"Edith," she began. "I know you're not loyal to me. You certainly do not respect me like the way you did my father. But... I also know that you would gladly die for the people of Rhin-Lotharingie, that you would never betray their interests and cause."
She had instinctively corrected her statement mid-sentence, since she ''did'' sleep with Pascal if one considered only physical proximity. But now, as she realized the implications of her remark, the Samaran girl felt as though her cheeks were about to start glowing.


Grasping Edith's hand beneath her sword, Sylviane pulled the Saint back up onto her feet and tapped her armored shoulder.
"You don't?" The youngest of the soldiers asked, before Gaspard slapped him in the back of the head.


"Fight well today, and we will ''never speak of this again''."
"No!" Kaede almost shouted. "Why does everyone just assumed that I... do that!?"


It was the ultimate gesture of forgiveness, to wipe the floor clean as though it had never happened.
"Why else would a young nobleman go through the trouble of summoning a pretty young girl for his familiar?" Gwen explained. "You can't really say 'no' if he's your master."


Edith bit her lips and nodded. A joyful relief flooded her thoughts, leaking even a few tears into her eyes as she grasped the Princess' hand.
"It's because he didn't have any friends!" Kaede blurted out in consternation. "And for your information, I don't call him by either, just 'Pascal'!"


''Why did I ever doubt?''
The awkwardness only increased when Gaspard had to act as the interpreter. Meanwhile, Kaede could feel Vivienne giggling silently as the Winterborn girl sat against her.


"And Edith," Sylviane added, "next time you believe the Holy Father has a problem with my decisions, I expect you to challenge me face-to-face, preferably in private so we can talk without some opportunist cutting in. No more of this behind-my-back business. It's not you, and it plays straight into those worthless nobles' hands."
"Ah, so he's the immature kind who just wants to play house," Gwen commented next.


"Yes..." Edith bowed and kissed the back of the Princess' hand. "Your Highness."
"He's not that either!"


With one last respectful nod, the Princess turned and took off into the air. But before she could rush off to the central camp, Sylviane swiveled to shout back a final order:
The older woman chuckled in response. It seemed clear now that she was having fun at the young Samaran's expense.


"Don't forget the Cross!"
"You're certainly close enough to follow him to war." Gaspard then spoke in a straight tone as he tried to redirect the topic onto something he could explain more comfortably.


She didn't wait for a reply. Time was of the essence, and she flew off without another word.
"Well, after all our time together, he has become family." Kaede said after a slow, calming breath as she picked up a stick to poke at the fire. "We've gone through life-and-death together even before the war began."


Sheathing the Holy Sword once more, Edith closed her eyes to clear the water from them.
The rangers all nodded in understanding. To help the other members of one's 'tribe' was a universal concept that anyone could grasp. It was especially the case for battlefield veterans who had bonded with their comrades-at-arms as a second family.


Her reply came in a whispered breath, her voice barely audible:
"Besides," Kaede thought deeper. "For someone like me, it would be hard to simply walk away from this."


"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Why is that?" The Sergeant asked, curious. "You're not Lotharin. It's not your obligation to fight our war. The Caliphate hardly poses a threat to Weichsel."


She would have to thank the Lord for his guidance later. But for now, she still had another test to face, a battle to win.
"A religiously-motivated militant empire like the Caliphate eventually poses a threat to ''anyone'' who isn't Tauheed." Kaede replied seriously.


After all, just like the Abrahamic religions of Earth, the Tauheed worship of the Caliphate saw all other faiths as either infidels or heathens. Such views always brought about an active desire to convert other, 'morally inferior' societies, oftentimes by force. From the various Islamic Caliphates to the Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, British, and American Empires, this religious view evolved into a culturally supremacist motive yet never really changed.


"However, that's not ''your'' reason," Gwen observed.


<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
"No."


Kaede stared into the fire as she thought back to the reasons why she opted against leaving Pascal. Some of them were materialistic, as Kaede wasn't confident about her ability to build a decent life on her own. Others were conscientious, as she had promised Pascal that she'd become part of his family -- words that she had no intention of betraying.


Yet, as she thought back to her prior conversation with Vivienne, Kaede realized that there was also a third set of reasons. And they came from a feeling that had been growing within her for the past month:


Meanwhile in the command cabin, winning wasn't even on Pascal's mind.
"You see, I'm a scholar of history. I've spent so many years reading about great leaders, the great turning points that changed the course of the world. But I've always been an observer, a thinker in hindsight, until now..."


No. Realistically speaking, the best he could hope for today was to stave off defeat. That would be a victory in its own right.
The Samaran girl fed a few more nearby branches into the campfire. Her gloved hands then reached out as she sought its warmth. Yet, through its embers her mind saw a different furnace -- the crucible of this exotic but wondrous world.


Certainly, he had the all the advantages of terrain. He had positioned the army camp just west of Glywysing, down the road towards the Ceredigion capital. With the town at their back and forest on both sides, the Caliphate would never manage their massed lancer charge.
Hyperion was filled with marvels of human ingenuity: from the industrialized and weaponized magic to domesticated skywhales serving as aircraft carriers, from maps of the growing Polarity Rail to her chart of Skagen's overseas colonies.


Furthermore, after a night of forced marching, the enemy would enter the battlefield tired and hungry. The Lotharins might not have the leisure of a real breakfast, but at least they were near their supply wagons and could therefore pass out bread as the troops assembled into battle order.
Yet despite all of this, the residents of Hyperion have yet to come together to form a new brand of civilization. Not yet.


The problem, however, lay in the comparison of forces.
"Hyperion is a continent on the cusp of something historic, something that will shape the future for centuries to come," Kaede tried to explain. "And for once, I'm not just a passive spectator to the events of the world. Instead, I stand right next to some of the great actors who will shape the continent, a unique position to not just witness, but also influence the turning pages of history itself..."


By the scouts' estimates over the previous days, the Caliphate force chasing after them numbered fifteen thousand men. Even if they cast aside all logistical attachments, it would still leave a fighting force of ten thousand professional soldiers. Assuming a standard Cataliyan cavalry brigade's distribution, they would compose of one-quarter light cavalry, two-quarters heavy Ghulam cavalry, and one-quarter Asawira armored cavalry archers.
Kaede then paused briefly before she looked up to finish: "how can I ''not'' take advantage of that? To help make this world a better place?"


The Cataliyan Ghulams that formed the core of this force were trained from slaves in the art of war since they were boys. Although they performed best mounted, they were just as effective when fighting as heavy foot in a shield wall.
The Samaran girl noticed that all seven of the rangers were now looking thoughtfully back at her. Meanwhile, Vivienne's expression had grown into an encouraging smile, and Gwen was positively grinning from the other side of the campfire.


Meanwhile, the Lotharin army -- having broken off eleven hundred men for the Ambush at Lysardh Point -- was left with just four thousand troops. Logistics personnel accounted for thirty percent of their numbers, leaving only twenty-seven hundred properly trained soldiers.
"It took me many years to learn and appreciate that." The older woman stated. "You're well ahead of your time."


They included all six hundred of King Alistair's remaining Galloglaich shock troops, plus another four hundred noble armiger heavy infantry. Five hundred were professional Rangers who patrolled the Lotharin border realms during peacetime, and the remaining one-thousand-two-hundred were militia longbowmen drawn from the hardy mountain tribes.
"Of course, as a herbalist, I'm sure you change the lives of people around you on a daily basis," Kaede then noted.


Lastly, there were up to three hundred militiamen from the town that Sylviane could muster. But even ''if'' they assembled in time, the Lotharins would still be outmatched four-to-one in terms of actual combat effectiveness.
"Even if I did, it wouldn't be nearly as much as you," Gwen added with a nostalgic sigh.


The door to the cabin opened again and again, but Pascal only scratched his head as his gaze remained glued to the map on the main table.
It took another moment before Kaede realized that Gaspard hadn't translated any of her recent statements. This meant Gwen hardly needed an interpreter to understand her.


There was no way he could hold a conventional battle line against such a superior and mobile force. The Cataliyans could easily envelope both flanks before crushing his center. Instead, he would have to bend both wings backwards like a half-circle, to make it as difficult as possible for the enemy to outflank him.
"Who are you... really?"


The downside to this was that it created a minor 'bulge' at every point along the defensive line, which the enemy could pressure from three sides. To counter this, Pascal would have to rely on a Weichsel concept he had been introducing to the Lotharin army -- the combined-arms ''battlegroup''.
"A local. Who is -- or at least wants to be -- on your side," Gwen smiled as she stood up with her basket. "And that's all you need to know."


These independent, composite formations would hold the center and inner wings. Each of them comprised of a core of highly disciplined noble armiger heavy infantry, supported by four times as many longbowmen and logistical troops. Meanwhile, the Galloglaich shock infantry would hold the outer wings where they would have more mobility to countercharge, while the Rangers will be placed near the ends to pick off flanking attempts.
''Wants to be?'' Kaede was puzzled. "Then why can't you?"


''Even then,'' he gritted his teeth as he placed two Galloglaich markers at the rear. ''We will need to maintain a reserve in case anyone circles behind us.''
"Because I must remain neutral, at least for now."


Everything demanded more from his precious pool of units and men.
Kaede had only sensed a faint magical aura coming from Gwen, far less than those of trained noble mages. Of course, it was possible that Gwen masked it, and Kaede's intuition was increasingly convinced that Gwen was more than just an eccentric herbalist from the Kingdom of Ceredigion. Yet, the woman's desire for neutrality did not seem to be a lie, and the only reason Kaede could think of for that was 'regional politics'.


Reaching down into his pocket, Pascal retrieved a runic pebble with a reluctant sigh.
The familiar was still staring back, as speechless as the others, when Gwen walked away and began to descend the hill.


His spell wasn't ready yet. He had all the pieces to achieve the desired chain reaction. But the output wasn't stable, and he hadn't been able to assert full control of the tremendous energy burst even in small scale tests. If he deployed the runestones he had inscribed in combat, they could become a double-edged sword that destroyed everything without regard, both friend and foe alike.
"Wait," Kaede stood up and rushed after her. ''If she is indeed a Lady of Ceredigion, then...''


''But what choice do I have?''
Gwen stopped next to an old, towering oak tree on the slopes as she turned to face Kaede with a gentle, moonlit smile:


He placed the pebble at the extreme left flank and swiveled it towards the enemy.
"I have one piece of advice for you, Miss Familiar." She spoke in lightly-accented Imperial this time. "If you truly wish to render the world a better place, then cherish your time and do all that you can now. Because if my guess about your master is correct, then you will surely have a major role to play in the coming decades at his side."


Attacking armies traditionally placed their strongest units on their right flank, which in turn would seek to overwhelm the defender's left wing. If Pascal formed the Lotharin left wing in a straight line that bent back like a 'V', then he could -- hopefully -- fire off a semi-enfilade shot that would devastate the Cataliyan forces while minimizing casualties to allied troops.
"What do you... why do you say that I should 'cherish my time' then?" Kaede stammered as she felt perplexed by the tonal shift. "And how long have you been watching us?"


"Pascal."
This was clearly not the first time.


He turned to the Princess' voice as she entered the command cabin. Two dozen nobles and officers had already assembled around the map table.
"Your master and mistress lead the army that protects Ceredigion's interests. Of course I've been observing for some time." Gwen explained as though it was obvious. "As for the former... well, the relationship between power and influence can be contradictory. And those who think that 'if only they had more power, they would have more influence' often miss the complex reality."


"Is the battle plan ready?"
Kaede frowned as not only others she knew -- such as her father -- but she herself was someone who often thought that.


"Yes," the young Landgrave declared in an assured voice, forcing aside all of his own worries and doubts.
"The problem is that the higher in status you rise and the more power you accrue, the more your hands will also be constrained by the rules of the existing power balance." Gwen added as her smile turned wry. "Thus, despite having more influence, you also find it more difficult to ''wield'' said influence. And once you have come as far as I have..."


He took out his baton and extended it into a pointing-stick.
The lady then grasped the oak tree with one hand. Her magical aura then flared into existence as she activated a silent spell.


"We will deploy in this formation, with both wings folded back to minimize the threat of flanking maneuvers. The front center will anchor itself in Glywysing, taking advantage of the town's buildings as fortifications. The right wing will arc back gradually, using the outlying structures as well as the nearby creek. Meanwhile, the left wing will form a straight line that pivots back from the center."
For a brief second, Kaede could see the woman's outline shimmering with power. It was magnitudes stronger than any mage she had ever met, and the familiar girl took a step back as her body tensed.


[[Image:Daybreak_v3_ch16_Glywysing_Setup.png|thumb|Battle of Glywysing: Lotharin deployment.|right]]
"W-wait..."


"Your Highness," Pascal turned towards Sylviane. "I hope you will do the honors of commanding the center and holding the town. Your presence would offer the best chance of inspiring the townsfolk to fight alongside us."
Yet before Kaede could say anything else, Gwen walked straight into the tree. No, she didn't crash into it. Instead, the woman simply stepped into the trunk like some bizarre phenomenon of quantum physics and vanished.


"Of course," the Princess nodded.
For several minutes, Kaede continued to stare at the tree and the vaguely purple forest that surrounded them. However, there wasn't even a trace of Gwen's presence remaining.


Her fiancé never mentioned the other reason, which is that as strange as it sounds, the center was actually the safest position along the entire line. Glywysing had a population of five thousand, and although many of them lived in outlying houses scattered among the surrounding orchards, the town center did feature a stockade wall to keep animals away from its granaries and wealthy residents. Its streets could also be blocked off to restrict movement, while every building and window would turn into a guard tower with arrow slits.
"Just what was that about anyway?" A bewildered soldier's voice came from behind her.


'Urban' combat always favored the defender, and this would be no exception.  
"I have no clue..." Vivienne answered in a similarly dazed tone. "But treewalking is ancient druidic magic. I had thought it was a lost art."


"Duke Lionel," the young Landgrave addressed the veteran commander next. "I would like you to hold the central right wing, stretching from the town to along the creek."
"Does Ceredigion have an archmage?" Kaede pondered aloud as she swiveled around towards her almost-twin.


"Sounds good to me," the Duke agreed.
"Not that I know of," the Winterborn girl shook her head. "Certainly not with that level of power."


"Lady Edith-Estellise," Pascal added just as the saint rushed into the room. "You will hold the extreme right flank. From there you can retain the initiative to countercharge any attacks on our right wing, as well as engage any Caliphate flanking attempts."
"Though the people of Ceredigion are known for being secretive. And until a few days ago, I'd never heard about Lady Vivienne either." Sergent Gaspard then commented before he shrugged with a sour look. "War seems to bring out all the hidden talents, even those who made me translate for no reason."
 
The Polar Cross Oriflamme briskly made her way to the table and looked it over.
 
"Understood."
 
"But if you station all three of us senior leaders on the center and right, then who will lead the left wing?" Lionel puzzled.
 
Reaching out with his hand, Pascal released his weapon from the right glove's extradimensional storage. His swordstaff manifested into existence from thin air, just as his fingers grasped the shaft and slammed it into the cabin floor.
 
"I will."
 
Even the Princess looked surprised, and the Duke's following smile was only a hint derisive:
 
"I didn't know you could fight."
 
"I am fairly mediocre with a weapon, it is true," Pascal admitted. "But that is not why they call me the ''Runelord''."
 
Realistically speaking, only the cadets at the academy called him that. But if there was ever an appropriate moment to brag, now was that time.
 
 
 
<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
 
 
 
"Sir, Brigadier Ardashir's light cavalry reports having engaged a screen of Lotharin rangers!"
 
General Salim nodded. Although it was winter, the barren orchard trees and buildings scattered outside the town still made it impossible for him to survey the Lotharin deployment from the ground. The light mist only made this problem worse, obscuring the ground even from Hakim's attempt to scry the battlefield from three-hundred paces above.
 
''Will just have to get used to the low visibility,'' Salim thought.
 
After the loss of Brigadier Arslan at the Battle of Gwilen River, Ardashir's cavalry brigade had become his best formation. As such, they occupied the honored position on the Cataliyan right flank, advancing forward behind a light cavalry skirmish screen that probed the Lotharin lines.
 
"Order Ardashir to dismount his heavy lancers while the rest of our forces move into position," the General barked to his signal officers from atop his steed. "Pass word for any troops who haven't finished their breakfast to do so now."
 
"Yes Sir!"
 
The cooks had distributed two pieces of khubz round-bread with dried beans and nuts wrapped inside to every soldier before departure. The overnight march no doubt left them cold and unappetizing, but it was still better than fighting on an empty stomach.
 
Dismounting from his horse, Salim strode into a newly erected tent that his staff officers just expanded. They were still laying down a fresh map drawn with cartography magic when he leaned over it.
 
Thus far, contact reports from frontline units left much to be desired in terms of position. It was hardly surprising, given the commanders' lack of local geographical knowledge. But as Salim surveyed the map, he knew exactly how ''he'' would act had he been the opposing commander -- which was a good place to start.
 
"They know they're outnumbered, and their camp is on the other side of town. My bet is on them deploying in a concave formation with the town protecting their center and the creek on their right."
 
"I agree, Your Eminence," Hakim took his position across the table. "The town will be a hard nut to crack. We should begin with an assault on one wing to draw in their reserves, while simultaneously deploying cavalry further down both flanks."
 
"Put pressure on them while taking advantage of the morning mist," Salim met his partner's gaze and nodded in approval. "Their left wing will be the most exposed," his pointing hand circled the anticipated area on the map. "They will expect us to strike there. Why not give them the obvious?"
 
Hakim simply smirked.
 
"Tell Ardashir he has ten minutes to form his lines," the General ordered. "After that, I want his lancers to press a full assault on the infidel left. Simultaneously, he is to detach his Asawira cavalry archers to ride west towards the enemy's rear!"
 
"Yes Sir!"
 
Salim still had no idea who exactly was in command of the Lotharin forces now. The Caliphate's intelligence network had yet to recover since the last battle on the Avorican plains, nor had he been able to take a high-ranking prisoner who knew the politics inside the chain of command. It was even possible, since the Phantoms had been left behind in Roazhon, that the opposing leader was no longer the same as during the battle at Gwilen.
 
But as his gaze narrowed around the town labeled 'Glywysing', his teeth clenched before expelling a hot breath.
 
''Let battle commence,'' his thoughts declared. ''And don't think I'm as easy as that foolhardy Admiral Kilic.''
 
 
 
<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
 
 
 
Pascal clenched his jaw shut as he looked down the line.
 
The fine mist still enshrouded everything beyond three hundred paces, and once more, he missed the presence of Kaede who always gave him an alternative viewing angle of the front lines.
 
After several minutes of skirmishing between Cataliyan light cavalry and Lotharin archers, the Caliphate right wing began a general advance. Their infantry marched through the forest in long lines behind disciplined walls of round shields. The Rangers did their best to break up the formations with arrow-imbued blasting spells. But without artillery support, the enemy's numerical superiority was proving too much to overcome.
 
"Cross fire!"
 
"Volley!"
 
Shouts from senior ranger commanders continued to echo across the line. It was a Lotharin tactic which involved dividing every group of longbows into two, with half of them shooting upwards in a high arc while the other half unleashed direct volleys. In this manner, all but the famed Imperial Testudo formation would fail to deflect half the attacks, as soldiers could either raise their shields overhead or protect their front, but not both.
 
Nevertheless, even without the Caliphate's ''Sandstorm Ignition Screen'' thanks to the forest, the lines of dismounted cavalry clad in green and yellow mail continued their unrelenting advance. The first two ranks shattered under a nonstop deluge of arrows. The next two had been cut down to mere dashes. But the Cataliyan juggernaut pressed on... and now, they were almost upon the Lotharin lines.
 
''Now or never,'' Pascal bit down. More than two-thirds of the Lotharins wore leather, fur, or even padded armor. In a prolonged, close-quarters melee, they wouldn't stand a chance against their heavily armored foes.
 
"Cover me," he ordered the squad of claymore-wielding Galloglaichs that the Princess had hand-picked as bodyguards for him.
 
Pascal advanced three steps forward, out from the Lothain flank as though a maniac with a death wish. Swiveling due east on his heels, he faced the advancing infidel tide at an angle, just as he had planned.
 
His swordstaff vanished back into his storage gloves. Instead, both hands reached deep into prepared pockets to pull out fistfuls of gems and runestones.
 
"''Levitation Field!''"
 
He threw both types of rocks into the air, where they hovered in a menacing cloud around him.
 
"Activate: ''Vector Shift Screen!''"
 
The first dozen runestones spun into a circle and activated, forming five layers of small but powerful barriers that sought to redirect all physical forces in one direction. They showed up in midair as a hemisphere of pitch, utter darkness, as not even the flow of light could exit its confines.
 
Meanwhile, around it gathered a ring of glowing gems, their compressed ether fueling the tiny ward's astronomical demands.
 
There were reasons why this 'invulnerability' magic was never adapted as a personal defense spell.
 
During his time in Nordkreuz, Pascal had consulted Kaede on just what were the most powerful energies in the universe as understood by her 'modern' world. His familiar had replied with four categories: electromagnetic, gravity, strong force, and weak force.
 
Electromagnetic was easy to grasp. All trained battlemages learned the fundamental physics of lightning to better imitate its armor-piercing killing power on the battlefield.
 
Gravity had been understood since the age of the dragonlords. It was recognized as powerful in its widespread perpetuity, but never useful as battle magic due to the difficulty in concentrating it.
 
'Weak force' was something that Kaede did not understand herself, evidence that she was no scholar of the physical sciences.
 
That left only 'strong force', which Kaede explained as 'the power binding atoms together, released as the self-sustaining atomic reaction that powered the sun'... and her world's doomsday weapons.
 
Their discussion left much to be desired, but it at least gave Pascal a hint to begin his research. Recovering in Nordkreuz at the time was the infamous and somewhat sociopathic Colonel Ulrik Rudel of the ''Dawn Sky'' Knights Phantom, the only spellcaster Pascal knew on Hyperion who focused on light-based offensive magic.
 
"Activate: ''Transmutation Matrix!''"
 
Pascal had spent an entire afternoon for the conversation that followed, during which Ulrik passed one of his personal inventions -- a catalyst spell that could mimic the sun's power. But there was a catch: the ether required to initiate the spell was tremendous, yet the overall output efficiency was far lower than that of traditional elemental spells. Ulrik had already given up on this path of research when Pascal called.
 
In other words, it was a spell catalyst that lacked a cascading chain reaction. But thanks to Kaede's "high school physics", Pascal knew roughly what that missing elements were:
 
Extreme pressure and hydrogen fuel.
 
Now, he watched as the overlapping turquoise ''Transmutation'' screens formed normal and heavy hydrogen from airborne molecules. The final product was held in a vacuum funnel, sealed between layers of alchemy spells. A tiny, hollow ball formed at the tip of this cone as it pressed into the black hemisphere, which grew more spherical as its sides expanded to bite into the funnel.
 
"Protect His Grace! CHARGE!" Pascal heard the voice of his leading bodyguard.
 
The Cataliyan advance was almost upon him, and thrown spears had began to shatter his outermost ''Spellshields''. However, the Galloglaich lieutenant realized what Pascal was doing and led not only his squad, but also two nearby platoons in a countercharge against overwhelming odds to buy time.
 
"Activate: ''Condensation Field!''"
 
Every remaining runestone hovering above Pascal triggered, rearranging themselves to form a ball around the black spheroid and turquoise funnel. There, each of them pressed in with its own beam of compressive force, crushing the isolated 'ball' at the tip of the conic funnel as though millions of hammers beating in at once.
 
''...And now, the finale.''
 
Pascal still couldn't manage the catalyst spell through mnemonic casting. It was too complicated, too new, too much chance of a mishaps. But thankfully, after dozens of attempts to graft its magic into stone, at least a few came out perfect.
 
Now, he pulled a fist-sized tablet from his pocket and turned it to the magical contraption floating in midair.
 
He had predefined the spell to target the 'containment core'. As trigger, all he had to do was read the inscribed name:
 
''Catalyst Phalanx - Solar Initiation.''
 
Pascal couldn't see the nucleus of the reaction, but he knew that fires hotter than anything on this world sparked within the tiny 'containment core' at the end of the fuel funnel. Both the black spheroid and translucent ''Condensation Field'' sphere trembled, a sign of the pulverizing forces that sought to rupture layers upon layers of magical containment. All that remained was for his ''Vector Shift'' barriers to widen the gap, and the chain 'strong force' reaction would spread like wildfire, detonating in a blast of raw energy several thousand times more potent than even the best ''Fireball''.
 
"Rel--"
 
He never even finished his word when the containment core blew. The single barrier facing east was shattered in an instant, and the quintupled-layered black spheroid immediately cracked under pressure.
 
The overwhelming brunt of the explosion was still channeled eastwards -- a conic blast that swept outwards in the blink of an eye. Every man and tree within two hundred paces east was instantly disintegrated by the sun unleashed. Neither friend nor foe was spared in its wake, including most of the Galloglaichs who had charged forth to protect him.
 
Accompanying the directional fireball was an intense burst of light, flaying skin and blinding eyes as far as two kilopaces wide. Those within a thousand paces never even felt pain as the thermal pulse destroyed nerves on contact, leaving survivors aghast at the sight of insensate, burning flesh.
 
Following that came the destructive wave, a tide of flames amidst rolling thunder that consumed everything it touched. In the east, this apocalyptic current of raw, cataclysmic power swept on for nearly a kilopace. It left a forty-ish degree cone of barren, blackened earth, filled with the charred remains of men, trees, and empty cottages where a brigade once marched.
 
The Cataliyan troops weren't the only victims either...
 
Bursts of light and heat had rushed out from cracks in the magical containment, unleashing focused beams of energy that either disintegrated or torched anything that they neared. Over a dozen of these plowed into the Lotharin lines, killing and igniting men where they stood.
 
Pascal had prepared the best he could for such an eventuality, but his troops near the epicenter had neither the time nor the ether to spare. Countless charred remains surrounded his former position, their bones shattered and flesh burned beyond recognition. Black, imprinted shadows also dotted the ground around them, where leaking rays of fusion energy simply vaporized the soldiers in formation. Even what remained of the ground and atmosphere had been set alight, with smoke and dust still burning over lanes of a blackened wasteland.
 
It was as if Death himself had been summoned onto the battlefield.
 
And the caster himself?
 
A triple layer of boosted personal wards could not protect him from the power unleashed. Pascal's barriers endured for as long as they could, before a rupture threw him back like a rag doll -- his charred body later found mangled in the ditch surrounding the Lotharin encampment.




Latest revision as of 19:32, 24 February 2022

Chapter 16 - Reason to Be

Kaede shivered as she stepped out of her tent and closed its flaps behind her. A cold breeze blew down between the rows of tents and cabins, which lay unevenly distributed in the barren, wintry forest.

The skies were still black, with thick clouds obscuring most of the huge indigo 'moon'. Nevertheless, the massive celestial body which stretched across a third of the heavens continued to shed light upon the land. Meanwhile, the campfires and oil lanterns that dotted the encampment further illuminated its paths.

Kaede gave off a tiny sneeze as another wintry draft blew in from the coast. She had turned up the warmth from her enchanted undergarments. However, the parts of her body it didn't cover still felt the biting cold. The shirt and jacket of her pseudo-uniform simply didn't provide enough insulation. She had to pull out her fur-lined winter coat for the first time.

Good thing I did some shopping before leaving Nordkreuz, Kaede thought before nodding to a trio of patrolling soldiers whom she strolled past.

The Samaran girl could hear the sound of a viol being played. Its gentle melody came from a hill near the encampment's northern edge. The knoll overlooked the surrounding forests just inland from the coast. There, the rangers had been organized to keep a watch through the night, divided into three shifts. The final shift which should be there now came from Kaede's banner.

Let's check up on them, the familiar thought. It's my responsibility as their commander after all.

Though Kaede would be lying to herself if she claimed that was the only reason. The Samaran girl had woken up an hour ago, after yet another terrible nightmare. Its exact details had faded from her mind too quickly to remember, but Kaede knew that it was also slightly different than her usual. This left her with a terrible anxiety, a feeling that either something awful had happened, or was about to.

Unable to fall asleep again, she spent the hour twisting and turning, until she grew tired of lying about. Her mind couldn't stop wandering from one concern to another -- some about the war, but just as many involved what came afterwards.

Sylviane could apologize with the utmost sincerity, but that didn't change the fact that she was Pascal's fiancée. Worse yet, she was an envious Empress-to-be, with all the stressful responsibilities and abusable powers that the title entails.

A Chinese proverb once claimed that 'to accompany a sovereign was like accompanying a tiger'. One could never know when the monarch might grow temperamental and bite one's head off. The fact that Kaede's very existence was an intrusion upon this tigress' hunting grounds only exacerbated the problem.

Sure, Kaede could leave. She had been thinking about it ever since she received the immigration documents from Captain Marko. She was sure Pascal would also give her some money to help get started with a new life, even though much of his funds had been sunk into the war and the reconstruction of Nordkreuz. But, what then? She was still stuck in a world where none of her skills were particularly marketable, in a body unfit for manual labor.

Kaede had learned enough to realize that even her high school chemistry did not compare against practical Hyperion alchemy. Without access to textbooks and online sources, Kaede couldn't even list what compounds to mix for building mortar, let alone industrial reagents like prussic acid and ammonium nitrate.

The Grand Republic of Samara was a mercantile oligarchy, not a European Union welfare state. She would have to rebuild her life from nothing. For a girl in this era with neither training nor trade, that meant she would most likely wind up as a domestic servant, subject to the whims of yet another master and mistress.

Is such a gamble really worth it?

Kaede had no doubt that her 'easy' life since coming to this world had been Pascal's blessing. Apart from the war, she had effectively traveled back several centuries and maintained more or less the same standard of living, which could only be achieved through wealth and privilege. Furthermore, Pascal might toe the line, but whenever push came to shove, he ultimately respected her boundaries. Meanwhile Sylviane was... at least cordial on most days.

There was no guarantee that another throw of the dice would return any better results. Besides, there was also something else, a feeling of reluctance that she hadn't quite wrapped her thoughts around yet...

I really hate risk-taking, don't I? The Samaran girl climbed the hill's slopes with a sigh. At least, when I'm not being impulsive about it.

"Morning, Sir. You're up early." A lanky, freckled young yeoman with ginger hair and a bright-green gaze waved as Kaede neared the crest. It was Sergeant Gaspard, and he was the only one who stood to keep a vigilant watch upon the surroundings.

Four other figures huddled around the campfire near him. Two of them wore the white winter cloaks of the rangers, and they resembled each other just enough to be brothers. Both of them yawned back with muttered greetings -- a sign of Rhin-Lotharingie's lax military discipline. If this was Weichsel, they would have at least stood up and saluted to greet their commander.

"Good morning." Kaede replied as she suppressed the contagious yawn. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I might as well come out to enjoy the scenery."

The third individual -- a stoic, middle-aged woman -- then gave a brief nod of courtesy to Kaede. Her cerulean blue cloak revealed her status as an Oriflamme Armiger, which meant that her rank was at least equal to that of Kaede's. Her reason for being here was apparent as the fourth figure was none other than her charge.

Vivienne's eyes were still closed as she played the viol in her hands. Her instrument had a body made of transparent crystal. Its hollow interior glowed with faint hues of blue and purple light that shifted as she pulled a bow across its strings. The viol was clearly a magical instrument that served to amplify her music -- a soothing melody reminiscent of a lullaby which drifted across the entire camp.

Nevertheless, Kaede could sense that there was barely a trace of mana laced into Vivienne's music this time. It wasn't surprising, considering the winterborn had shown signs of magical exhaustion at the end of yesterday's battle. She had retired to her tent almost as soon as they had made camp.

Not surprising that a song which affects an entire army would take a toll on her, Kaede thought. She then sat quietly down on one of the logs and enjoyed the conclusion of Vivienne's melody.

The Winterborn girl continued to play until the song ended. Her brilliant-blue eyes only reopened as she lifted her bow from the viol's strings and turned towards Kaede.

"Good morning, Dame Kaede," Vivienne spoke with a bright smile as she put her instrument away into a large, extradimensional pocket which slung over her long skirt.

"Good morning, Lady Vivienne," Kaede greeted more formally this time. "Shouldn't Your Ladyship still be resting?"

"There's really no need to call me by that," Vivienne chuckled slightly as she replied. "Most people only address me 'Lady' because I summoned Olifant," she referred to her absent phoenix. "I don't actually have a real title."

Kaede's eyes widened as this was surprising to hear. She had always thought of Vivienne as nobility due to the way people spoke of her.

"At any rate, seven hours of sleep was enough for me. I'd rather come out here to enjoy the fresh air." The Winterborn smiled and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath of the frosty air. She then added as she stood up from her rocky seat: "Would you like to take a walk with me, Kaede? My legs are a little stiff after sitting here for so long."

The Samaran girl blinked as she recognized the invitation for a private conversation. It certainly wasn't what she had expected first thing in the morning. Nevertheless, the choice was obvious as she nodded in return.

"Of course."


...


Kaede walked beside Vivienne with an awkward gait as the two strolled among the tents. The young winterborn had hooked her arm around Kaede's in a display of public intimacy that the Samaran girl was neither accustomed to nor exactly comfortable with. Though thankfully in this early hour, the only people who saw were the bodyguard who followed discretely behind them and a few occasional patrols.

Nevertheless, the reason for Vivienne's closeness became apparent as the Winterborn cast a Barrier Veil spell -- which combined the effect spellword for anti-eavesdropping wards with that of a form word for a personal bubble. Kaede also didn't miss the fact that this showed Vivienne to be a 'dual magic' user just like Pascal. She was clearly capable of using aura magic in addition to her bardic fae concordance magic.

"I thought we could use a private moment to properly introduce ourselves this time," Vivienne began in a sweet, singsong voice. "Especially given our... similarities," she then added with a giggle.

You mean the fact that we basically look like twins, since Pascal summoned me with your image in mind? Kaede shifted uncomfortably before she hesitantly brought herself to ask:

"Are you... not bothered by it?"

"To be honest, I've always wanted a young sibling," Vivienne replied with another giggle. "A younger twin is all the better."

I guess that's one way to look at it, Kaede inwardly sighed. "Though unlike real siblings, we didn't exactly grow up together."

"Literally worlds apart, so I've heard," Vivienne turned to Kaede with a knowing grin.

Clearly, the Samaran's attempt to subtly hint that the former was being far too close for comfort had fallen on deaf ears. Instead, the Winterborn pulled even closer to Kaede until their shoulders pressed against each other.

"But that's all the reason why we should get to know each other better," Vivienne enthusiastically added. "Our masters are betrothed after all. We're likely to see plenty of each other, if not be routinely mistaken for each other by others."

Masters? Kaede raised her eyebrows at the way the other girl put it. Almost everyone knew that Kaede was a familiar, where the word 'master' had a very different meaning than the colloquial implication of 'liege lord'.

"Lady Vivienne, if..."

"Vivi is fine." Vivienne interjected before her smile turned Cheshire. "As long as you don't mind me calling you Kaede."

Why do I get the feeling that even if I did, it's not going to stop you? Kaede couldn't help thinking.

Nevertheless, Kaede certainly recognized the value of being on familiar terms with those close to Princess. If there was one lesson she received from Sylviane's hypomania episode, it was that the restraining influence of those around the Princess could make all the difference during the midst of a royal mood swing. Therefore, it was particularly important for her welfare that she maintain friendly terms with as many of Sylviane's close retainers as possible.

"Vivi then." The Samaran girl's smile was a little forced as she returned to her question, "if you don't mind me asking -- just what exactly is your relationship to the Princess?"

"She's my mistress," Vivienne said in a seemingly indifferent tone as the two walked along.

"No, I mean..." Kaede hesitated as she pondered how to put it delicately. "Is there anything more than a liege-retainer relationship?"

"Yes, she's my mistress," the other girl repeated.

Kaede's brows furrowed as she stared at her counterpart. It was only then when she noticed that a wry expression entered Vivienne's smiling countenance.

Pascal had said that Vivienne had been captured by Tauheed Corsairs as a young girl and sold into slavery. However, now that she was back in Rhin-Lotharingie, surely she wasn't a slave any longer? The traditional institution of slavery wasn't even legal in the Empire. And it seemed unlikely that Vivienne would be an indentured servant as a result of debt or legal punishment.

"I... I don't understand," Kaede commented with a puzzled frown.

Vivienne's smile turned bittersweet as she examined Kaede for a moment before starting to explain:

"Kaede, I know Pascal sent you here to keep an eye on me..."

The familiar girl couldn't stop her eyes from widening in response, which gave all the confirmation that Vivienne could ever need. However, before she could even have a chance to interject, the Winterborn raised a hand to stop her.

"I don't mind it, really." Vivienne added with sincere acceptance in her brilliant-blue gaze. "Even Emperor Geoffroi never really trusted me, and he had good reason not to. After all, I had been a slave since I was just nine years old, and I had spent most of my life growing up in the Caliphate. Furthermore, my former master was none other than the current Qadi al-Quda, the chief judicial advisor and left hand of the Caliph."

No wonder they don't trust you then! Kaede's eyes swelled as she almost blurted out. You're way too highly connected with the enemy side!

It didn't even matter that she was a slave. After all, Kaede knew that many countries on Earth, including the Islamic empires, had an abundance of slaves who rose to high ranks. Many of them -- such as Ibrahim Pasha, the Grand Vizier to Suleiman the Magnificent of the Ottoman Empire -- had achieved military and administrative authority second to only the ruler.

"--And as you might imagine," Vivienne continued. "There aren't exactly many ways that a young girl could be usefully enslaved, especially if she's exotic and pretty."

Kaede's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as she finally realized what should have been obvious from the start.

"You... you're a..."

"I'm a sex slave, yes," Vivienne's smile was sardonic as she spoke the words that Kaede could not bring herself to say. "And if you know anything about sex slaves in our world, it's that we are marked for life. After all, a slave in the bedroom is privy to more of her master's secrets than any other servant. No self-respecting lord would want to see one escape with all their confidential knowledge."

"But... what about you then?" Kaede stammered out as she struggled to process the implications of this.

"I'm unconsummated, which means that my mark of slavery was never activated," the girl added with a look of painful acceptance in her eyes. "My former master thought it was outrageous that a mere child could be sold for sexual use. He bought and raised me in his harem, but more as a daughter than as a concubine."

"Wait," Kaede was puzzled as she remembered something that she had read. "I thought a slave tattoo could only be successfully inscribed onto commoners, due to the natural repulsion between different mages' mana?"

"That would normally be true. However, I'm a metamage," Vivienne explained with a faint sigh. "It's a rare trait among mages, and it means our mana has transfusive properties. It's how phoenixes can share their mana with their masters, as well as why my concordance magic -- a form of spellcraft that the fae created uniquely for metamages -- can affect nobles and yeomen."

"But in turn, you're also more vulnerable to hostile sorceries," Kaede realized. It was clear from Vivienne's tone that she viewed it as more of a curse than a gift.

"Quite." the latter nodded. "A mage slave is rare enough. A mage faekissed slave was virtually guaranteed to be one-of-a-kind. I was marketed as a collectible and sold for quite a fortune, you should know," the Winterborn bitterly joked.

Which means that whatever moral reasons your former master had for buying you, they probably weren't the only reasons either. Kaede considered before a horrifying thought came to mind from Vivienne's early statement.

"You said you're 'unconsummated'. But you still bear a slave's mark. Does that mean...?"

"Any mage who takes my virginity will become my owner for the rest of my life." The Winterborn girl's bittersweet smile returned.

Kaede shuddered as her entire body suddenly felt freezing. She couldn't even imagine having something like that hanging over her head. Vivienne wasn't even particularly good at defending herself, as her specialty magic was slow to channel and her small physique looked almost fragile.

It was then that another realization struck the familiar girl: "Is that why you let the Princess treat you as she likes? Because Her Highness can offer you protection in a way that few others can?"

"Syls certainly does that." Vivienne chuckled. It was the first genuine smile she had expressed since they began this topic.

"Not even the most brazen lord would dare force himself upon a handmaiden who directly serves his future Empress. However," the Winterborn then met Kaede's gaze with a knowing look. "I think anyone whose ego does not rule their rationality should see the benefits of allowing royalty to treat me so affectionately. It is such a cheap price to pay, when one considers the value of trust from a crown princess."

She did grow up in a harem, after all, Kaede pondered on the political acumen of her almost-twin. After all, outside of literary wish-fulfillment, the harems of the ruling class had always been a hyper-competitive and ruthless world of mercenary mothers and mistresses. It was an intensely hierarchical atmosphere where the pecking order was established through backstabbing schemes and cutthroat intrigue.

Regardless, the Samaran girl couldn't help but respond with a wry smile herself this time. After all, did Vivienne's rationale not reflect that of her own when she faced the choice of whether or not she should obey the Princess' unusual requests? Of course, she was more focused on not stepping on any more toes at the time. Yet the desire to earn Sylviane's goodwill first was the same.

"Still..." Kaede thought out loud as she pondered why Vivienne did not choose the alternative, the same choice that Kaede kept in consideration even now. "Couldn't you have just vanished? Go somewhere isolated and live a life where nobody would know who or what you are. With your magical abilities, there must be plenty of ways you can make a living."

"Truuue, I could," Vivienne replied as she pressed a finger into her soft cheeks in pretend thoughtfulness. "Buuut... doesn't that feel a little bit like I've given up on life altogether? To just hide somewhere and wait for time to pass?"

Kaede raised her eyebrows. I hadn't even thought of it that way.

"I may come from unfortunate circumstances, but in other ways I was also really lucky," Vivienne added with a serene smile. "I was born with a rare magical talent, an affinity that many would love to have. I have been blessed with loving parents and educated by wise teachers. I even summoned a phoenix, a feat that thousands dream of yet few could ever achieve. And now, I find myself in the innermost circle around the heiress of an Empire."

Vivienne then paused in her steps. She turned towards Kaede and stared into the Samaran's rose-quartz gaze:

"Throughout the entire history of Hyperion, how many others have received such a unique combination of rare opportunities as I have?"

That's certainly true, Kaede thought as she reflected upon her own fortunes. Sure, her situation of being pulled across worldly boundaries must be infinitesimally rare. Yet through it all, she had been brought into the household of a powerful and influential family under a responsible if not honorable lord -- one that was positioned to influence the outcome of geopolitical struggles between entire empires.

It was an chance that her father Konstantin, who often felt frustrated by the geopolitics of Earth and his own powerlessness, would have loved to receive.

"I'm not quite ready to give up on life yet." Vivienne remarked as the two resumed their stroll through the army camp. "Not when I'm in a rare position to achieve so much with my life. Sure, it might be dangerous for me, even more so than the average person. But isn't that what life is always about? To face risk and discomfort and make something of ourselves?"

The Samaran girl couldn't help but smile back at her counterpart as she replied with a thoughtful nod.

Vivi really is wise for her age. It really shows just how much she has been through.

"Besides," Vivienne then added with a giggle that seemed far more appropriate for her age. "Syls does give amazing cuddles and headpats."


...


The two girls spent the next hour strolling about the camp in circles while chatting. Perhaps not surprisingly, Vivienne's voluntary disclosure of her past was not 'free', as she expected the same from Kaede in return. As a result, Kaede spent a considerable amount of time telling Vivienne about her time growing up on Earth. She even told her almost-twin about her male gender before she came to this world.

Vivienne's only response was an excited hug and "ooooh, you're like having a twin little brother and a twin little sister at the same time."

It really made Kaede wonder just what exactly was Vivienne's motive in trying to befriend her. After all, she was hardly in any position of power to offer security, protection, or influence -- the values that seemed to be of most importance to the young Winterborn.

Nevertheless, Vivienne eventually steered them back to the hill where their conversation first began. Sergeant Gaspard and his rangers were still there when they returned. Though in addition to several more rangers who had clearly just woken up, he was also joined by a somewhat out-of-place individual.

The new person was a woman who seemed to be in her late thirties. She had long, brown locks which flowed freely down her shoulders. Her ankle-length dress was a simple green and white, with a thick woolen shawl wrapped around her arms. Even with Rhin-Lotharingie's lack of proper military uniforms, it was apparent that she was a civilian.

The army had left most of its camp followers in Roazhon to allow for faster movement. The few 'essential' ones that remained, such as blacksmiths and horse grooms, stayed with Sylviane's main force rather than march with 'Battlegroup Vivienne'.

"Who are you?"

"Her name's Gwen, a local," Gaspard introduced.

"I'm the resident alchemist and herbalist for nearby villages," Gwen smiled back as she presented a covered straw basket in her arms. "I was collecting herbs in the forest before meeting your folks."

"At this hour?" Kaede frowned as she looked around the hill. They were still surrounded by dark, barren forests, hauntingly illuminated by only the dim purple light of the gas giant 'moon'.

No way I'd ever come out here alone. Kaede thought as she sat down on a log, while Vivienne took a seat right next to her.

Gaspard had to translate back. Courtesy of the linguistics magic Pascal worked into their familiar bond, Kaede could speak perfect Imperial. However, it seemed Gwen had a limited understanding of the language and spoke only in Brython -- one of the four main languages of Rhin-Lotharingie. And while Kaede could understand Brython thanks to the slightly-awkward translation magic from her earrings, she couldn't speak it.

Thankfully, the sergeant was multilingual, which in Hyperion meant he had at least a middle class education.

"There are herbs best picked in the early hours before daybreak," Gwen explained.

"And we spotted her in the woods and asked her to join us for a chat." Gaspard added with a subtle nod that he had already verified that Gwen was telling the truth.

Kaede wasn't sure what to make of Gwen, though the stranger seemed to harbor no ill intent. She shrugged it off after another moment of scrutiny. It was, after all, hard to lie to a ranger about knowledge of the wild.

"Aren't you a little far from Weichsel?" The woman asked next as her eyes scanned Kaede's black pseudo-uniform and especially the Knight's Cross.

"Allies have journeyed further to support a war," Kaede simply answered.

"Is it true then that you're the familiar to our Princess' Weichsen fiancé?" One of the rangers then asked.

"And that you and Lady Vivienne are twin sisters?" Another followed.

Guess I should've expected that from the rumor mill.

However, before Kaede could even respond, Vivienne grabbed her arm and pulled her in close.

"That's a state secret." The Winterborn girl declared sweetly. Her mannerisms all but cemented the validity of that rumor in the soldiers' minds.

Kaede could only exhale a silent sigh before she responded: "Yes, I am the familiar of His Grace, the Landgrave of Nordkreuz."

"I've never understood the nobles' convention," replied one of the rangers. "I mean, it has to be weird if you call him 'Your Grace' all the time."

"No..."

Kaede was still considering her answer when Gaspard finished translating for Gwen, and the older woman immediately took on a catty smile:

"Especially when you're in bed with him."

Gaspard coughed and nearly choked while Kaede stared back with widened eyes.

We've barely met for two minutes and you're already bringing up THAT!?

Meanwhile, a few of the other rangers looked between them in confusion, which seemed to indicate that they did not speak the Brython language either.

"Hey, what did she say?" One of them pestered the sergeant.

"I do NOT sleep with him in that way!" Kaede hissed.

She had instinctively corrected her statement mid-sentence, since she did sleep with Pascal if one considered only physical proximity. But now, as she realized the implications of her remark, the Samaran girl felt as though her cheeks were about to start glowing.

"You don't?" The youngest of the soldiers asked, before Gaspard slapped him in the back of the head.

"No!" Kaede almost shouted. "Why does everyone just assumed that I... do that!?"

"Why else would a young nobleman go through the trouble of summoning a pretty young girl for his familiar?" Gwen explained. "You can't really say 'no' if he's your master."

"It's because he didn't have any friends!" Kaede blurted out in consternation. "And for your information, I don't call him by either, just 'Pascal'!"

The awkwardness only increased when Gaspard had to act as the interpreter. Meanwhile, Kaede could feel Vivienne giggling silently as the Winterborn girl sat against her.

"Ah, so he's the immature kind who just wants to play house," Gwen commented next.

"He's not that either!"

The older woman chuckled in response. It seemed clear now that she was having fun at the young Samaran's expense.

"You're certainly close enough to follow him to war." Gaspard then spoke in a straight tone as he tried to redirect the topic onto something he could explain more comfortably.

"Well, after all our time together, he has become family." Kaede said after a slow, calming breath as she picked up a stick to poke at the fire. "We've gone through life-and-death together even before the war began."

The rangers all nodded in understanding. To help the other members of one's 'tribe' was a universal concept that anyone could grasp. It was especially the case for battlefield veterans who had bonded with their comrades-at-arms as a second family.

"Besides," Kaede thought deeper. "For someone like me, it would be hard to simply walk away from this."

"Why is that?" The Sergeant asked, curious. "You're not Lotharin. It's not your obligation to fight our war. The Caliphate hardly poses a threat to Weichsel."

"A religiously-motivated militant empire like the Caliphate eventually poses a threat to anyone who isn't Tauheed." Kaede replied seriously.

After all, just like the Abrahamic religions of Earth, the Tauheed worship of the Caliphate saw all other faiths as either infidels or heathens. Such views always brought about an active desire to convert other, 'morally inferior' societies, oftentimes by force. From the various Islamic Caliphates to the Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, British, and American Empires, this religious view evolved into a culturally supremacist motive yet never really changed.

"However, that's not your reason," Gwen observed.

"No."

Kaede stared into the fire as she thought back to the reasons why she opted against leaving Pascal. Some of them were materialistic, as Kaede wasn't confident about her ability to build a decent life on her own. Others were conscientious, as she had promised Pascal that she'd become part of his family -- words that she had no intention of betraying.

Yet, as she thought back to her prior conversation with Vivienne, Kaede realized that there was also a third set of reasons. And they came from a feeling that had been growing within her for the past month:

"You see, I'm a scholar of history. I've spent so many years reading about great leaders, the great turning points that changed the course of the world. But I've always been an observer, a thinker in hindsight, until now..."

The Samaran girl fed a few more nearby branches into the campfire. Her gloved hands then reached out as she sought its warmth. Yet, through its embers her mind saw a different furnace -- the crucible of this exotic but wondrous world.

Hyperion was filled with marvels of human ingenuity: from the industrialized and weaponized magic to domesticated skywhales serving as aircraft carriers, from maps of the growing Polarity Rail to her chart of Skagen's overseas colonies.

Yet despite all of this, the residents of Hyperion have yet to come together to form a new brand of civilization. Not yet.

"Hyperion is a continent on the cusp of something historic, something that will shape the future for centuries to come," Kaede tried to explain. "And for once, I'm not just a passive spectator to the events of the world. Instead, I stand right next to some of the great actors who will shape the continent, a unique position to not just witness, but also influence the turning pages of history itself..."

Kaede then paused briefly before she looked up to finish: "how can I not take advantage of that? To help make this world a better place?"

The Samaran girl noticed that all seven of the rangers were now looking thoughtfully back at her. Meanwhile, Vivienne's expression had grown into an encouraging smile, and Gwen was positively grinning from the other side of the campfire.

"It took me many years to learn and appreciate that." The older woman stated. "You're well ahead of your time."

"Of course, as a herbalist, I'm sure you change the lives of people around you on a daily basis," Kaede then noted.

"Even if I did, it wouldn't be nearly as much as you," Gwen added with a nostalgic sigh.

It took another moment before Kaede realized that Gaspard hadn't translated any of her recent statements. This meant Gwen hardly needed an interpreter to understand her.

"Who are you... really?"

"A local. Who is -- or at least wants to be -- on your side," Gwen smiled as she stood up with her basket. "And that's all you need to know."

Wants to be? Kaede was puzzled. "Then why can't you?"

"Because I must remain neutral, at least for now."

Kaede had only sensed a faint magical aura coming from Gwen, far less than those of trained noble mages. Of course, it was possible that Gwen masked it, and Kaede's intuition was increasingly convinced that Gwen was more than just an eccentric herbalist from the Kingdom of Ceredigion. Yet, the woman's desire for neutrality did not seem to be a lie, and the only reason Kaede could think of for that was 'regional politics'.

The familiar was still staring back, as speechless as the others, when Gwen walked away and began to descend the hill.

"Wait," Kaede stood up and rushed after her. If she is indeed a Lady of Ceredigion, then...

Gwen stopped next to an old, towering oak tree on the slopes as she turned to face Kaede with a gentle, moonlit smile:

"I have one piece of advice for you, Miss Familiar." She spoke in lightly-accented Imperial this time. "If you truly wish to render the world a better place, then cherish your time and do all that you can now. Because if my guess about your master is correct, then you will surely have a major role to play in the coming decades at his side."

"What do you... why do you say that I should 'cherish my time' then?" Kaede stammered as she felt perplexed by the tonal shift. "And how long have you been watching us?"

This was clearly not the first time.

"Your master and mistress lead the army that protects Ceredigion's interests. Of course I've been observing for some time." Gwen explained as though it was obvious. "As for the former... well, the relationship between power and influence can be contradictory. And those who think that 'if only they had more power, they would have more influence' often miss the complex reality."

Kaede frowned as not only others she knew -- such as her father -- but she herself was someone who often thought that.

"The problem is that the higher in status you rise and the more power you accrue, the more your hands will also be constrained by the rules of the existing power balance." Gwen added as her smile turned wry. "Thus, despite having more influence, you also find it more difficult to wield said influence. And once you have come as far as I have..."

The lady then grasped the oak tree with one hand. Her magical aura then flared into existence as she activated a silent spell.

For a brief second, Kaede could see the woman's outline shimmering with power. It was magnitudes stronger than any mage she had ever met, and the familiar girl took a step back as her body tensed.

"W-wait..."

Yet before Kaede could say anything else, Gwen walked straight into the tree. No, she didn't crash into it. Instead, the woman simply stepped into the trunk like some bizarre phenomenon of quantum physics and vanished.

For several minutes, Kaede continued to stare at the tree and the vaguely purple forest that surrounded them. However, there wasn't even a trace of Gwen's presence remaining.

"Just what was that about anyway?" A bewildered soldier's voice came from behind her.

"I have no clue..." Vivienne answered in a similarly dazed tone. "But treewalking is ancient druidic magic. I had thought it was a lost art."

"Does Ceredigion have an archmage?" Kaede pondered aloud as she swiveled around towards her almost-twin.

"Not that I know of," the Winterborn girl shook her head. "Certainly not with that level of power."

"Though the people of Ceredigion are known for being secretive. And until a few days ago, I'd never heard about Lady Vivienne either." Sergent Gaspard then commented before he shrugged with a sour look. "War seems to bring out all the hidden talents, even those who made me translate for no reason."



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