Daybreak:Alpha Chapter

Chapter 2 - The Oriflamme Princess

(still WIP)

For the first time, Kaede spent considerable time obsessing over the ruffles and wrinkles of her pseudo-uniform. But it wasn't her appearance that she cared about. Her eyes merely needed an excuse to avoid Pascal's gaze, since reading wasn't an option when they were preparing to leave.

Recollections of last night still looped through her mind on replay, reminding her of behavior that was simply not normal for anyone in a non-romantic relationship.

There was little doubt that after the twin hammer blows of her residency and his loss, rampant emotions had carried her away.

Part of her wondered how much of that could even be attributed to the psychological and hormonal differences between genders. The rest of her was less theoretical, even if simply berating herself was no more practical.

Kaede needed the relationship between her and Pascal to stay within a safe zone. It wasn't even a matter of whether or not she wanted romance as a girl. Her life in the new world simply depended too much on the stability of their bond for her to risk anything beyond mere friendliness.

...Especially if he already had a fiancée, a royal one at that.

Kaede stole another glance at Pascal. A blank expression replaced his usual dashing smirk as he adjusted his collar and the Knight's Cross hanging below it while facing his mirrored reflection. His countenance was still stern as he proudly saluted his own image before turning to face her.

She hurriedly glanced back to her short skirt before their eyes could meet.

"Ready to depart?"

His tone was composed, perhaps 'controlled' was a better description. It certainly lacked the self-humored arrogance he began most days with.

"Y-yeah," Kaede replied, willing herself not to pull away as Pascal leaned in to adjust her appearance to the perfection he demanded.

"Do not worry. King Leopold is a true monarch of his troops -- an open-minded, martial ruler not given into petty formalities. Just stay behind me, be respectful, and you should manage fine..."

Kaede nodded back faintly. With everything else on her mind, the stress of an impending royal audience really did not add well to her nerves. But however daunting meeting a King may be, the prospective of facing Pascal's royal fiancée while being a girl bonded to him was... far worse.

"--Sylviane, on the other hand, is somewhat too serious and pressured by her role as a Crown Princess. Be courteous, do not speak until spoken to, and only keep to answering her for now. I am certain she will warm up to you given time, but best you tread carefully at the start."

His advice didn't make her feel any better. Kaede simply couldn't shake the feeling that she was like a mistress about to be introduced to the official wife.

With one finger under her chin, Pascal brought her eyes back to his stern turquoise gaze. Waving his hand and its glowing ring over her face, he cast the usual Refreshen spell to brighten her appearance.

Kaede finally realized that she was being awkward by herself.

Sure, his expressions were different, and his attitude unusual. But that was expected for any normal person who just lost their parents. The key point however, was that he treated her the exact same way as before.

Meanwhile she was trying to keep more distance, reneging upon the very words she said to him on the rooftop the night before. If Kaede kept this up, she would unintentionally harm Pascal during a time he needed support the most.

"Well... would you prefer Milord, Sir, or master then?" She forced out her words, half-jokingly as she sought familiar ground in the atmosphere between the two of them.

"Since I am your liege, 'Milord' should be fine for the formalities. It certainly overrides the 'Sir' for addressing my knighthood. And as I had told you on the first night, I am not some faux noble who need ego stroking, so please do not give me some weird reputation with the last..."

Then, Pascal finally smirked -- lightly, but nevertheless the first time his arrogance manifested itself all morning:

"--Although if you wish to do so in private in the future, I would not really mind."

Kaede's right hand balled into a fist as she wrestled with the urge to hit that handsome face again.

It was the first time she found her feeling and his expression oddly reassuring.

...

"Oh hey it's the Runelord. Out for an errand this early?"

Just as they exited the dormitory keep, Kaede and Pascal met Reynald and Parzifal. The two men both wore gray cotton sweats with red lines, panting hard with lingering sweat as they cooled off in the winter breeze after an early Saturday morning workout.

"Are you alright, Pascal?" Parzifal's worried glance for his former arch-nemesis just a week ago reminded Kaede once again of how saintly the healer was.

"I am now, thank you," Pascal answered a bit stiffly. "And I must travel to Königsfeld today."

"Ah, of course. Noble duty calls," Parzifal nodded back with the understanding of a gentle smile.

"More than that actually. My fiancée is visiting to have an audience with the King. After what happened recently, it is only appropriate that I join her there."

"The Cerulean Princess is coming?" Reynald's spring-green eyes light up with piqued curiosity before his feet rushed towards the door. "Give me a min to get changed. I'll give you two a ride."

"I can manage..."

At Pascal's words, Reynald instantly spun around and leaned in with a stern glare. Despite being shorter by a full head, he berated the Runelord as though a freckled kid admonishing an adult:

"Don't be an idiot. You'll need five Teleport jumps to get to Königsfeld, and that'll strain even your prodigious ether reserves. Is that what you're looking for? Window of opportunity for assassins to prove your newly entitled lordliness?"

"That is why I have ether-storing gemstones," Pascal replied flatly, unflinching.

"Yes, because that's so much more efficient, the hours it takes to create those things. In case you haven't noticed Runelord, we have wars coming up, so save your beauty accessories for when it really matters. Seriously, just wait a few. I'll get you and Muffin there in two clean jumps."

Reynald then spun his heels and ran into the keep without another word.

With an amused smile, Parzifal caught Kaede's raised eyebrows and shrugged:

"This is pretty normal for him, actually."

"Turn time back a week, and I never would have thought he could even think that far ahead..." Pascal noted as he turned to face the other two.

"What, you've never heard of 'playing the buffoon?'" Kaede asked. "It's not that rare in political circles."

"Pretending to be an idiot is valid for rulers and heirs trying to avoid attention, especially in succession struggles," Pascal replied like a know-it-all. "Reynald is the only son to an unlanded noble family that does not even own fiefs. There is no point for him to hide his potential. Unless..."

"Unless he wants arrogant nobles like you -- or at least the old you -- to underestimate him. Given that he kicked your sorry butt twice before you learned your lesson, I'd say he succeeded at it," Kaede finished before switching the topic: "What does he mean by two jumps versus five?"

It was Parzifal who explained this time, his tone oddly wistful:

"Standard Astral Teleport spells have a safe maximum range of ten kilopaces. Reynald has wayfarer training thanks to his affinity with teleportation spells, and they can jump up to twenty-five kilopaces while bringing along more passengers. But honestly, you could also get there in under an hour by Phantom Steed gallop, even if it's rather windy."

"Unless I am misreading the weather, we should expect snow sometime today, so I would rather not be caught in a blizzard." Pascal glanced at the cloudy skies before turning back to Parzifal: "can you manage teleport at all? Given your problem with non-bio spells?"

It took a second for the realization to pass, but Kaede almost slammed her palm into her forehead. Instead, she settled for two fingers on her temple as annoyed thoughts rolled across her mind: darn it Pascal you're not support to just raise touchy subjects like this.

"No, I can't even manage a short-ranged Astral Leap, let alone long-range teleportation," Parzifal admitted with a wry grin. "But then, most mages have trouble with it, otherwise it wouldn't be considered a 'career spell'. You, Cecylia, and Reynald are among the rare ones to manage solo-teleportation. Even Ariadne still require my help to align the spell."

Pascal frowned back:

"I thought only metamages could directly influence another caster's spells, given the usual non-compatibility between different individuals' ether."

"I don't know why," Parzifal shrugged again. "But part of my knack with bio-spells has been the ability to work well with others. In fact, I can heal other mages to a degree even without the need for Samaran blood. The problem is that metamages are rare, and we don't have one here at the academy."

Kaede watched with an encouraging smile as Pascal took a moment to mull things over. But she already knew his obsession with expertise well enough to anticipate his response:

"Let me tap into my family contacts in the government. The claim is that metamages usually learn their abilities by nature once their magic reaches full-bloom after the age of twenty-five, but it is never too early to start exploring and grooming a potential affinity, especially if it is a rare one."

"If you don't mind, that is," Kaede nodded courteously towards Parzifal.

Perhaps it wasn't really needed. The healer's hopeful eyes seemed as though the holidays had arrived early this year:

"Of course not! I'd appreciate that quite a bit!"

----- * * * -----

Kaede hated teleportation more every time she did it. The feeling of undergoing freezing and sublimation while simultaneously being flushed down a whirlpool simply wasn't something she could ever acclimate herself to. As she confirmed all her bodyparts while their nerves reconnected, Kaede felt immensely grateful to Reynald that she only had to ride two teleportation spells instead of Pascal's originally-planned five jumps.

She was even ready to forgive all the times he had annoyingly called her 'Muffin'.

"Let me make one thing clear," Pascal said as he lead the three of them up a stone-paved street with 'sidewalks', wide enough to be considered a long plaza rather than a mere highway. "You may come along as part of my gratitude for your help, but I will not tolerate any of your disrespect towards my fiancée. She is far more sensitive than I am."

"Ha! As if your sensitivity is any comparison to speak of..."

Reynald's retort attracted a harsh glare from Pascal, and he quickly appended it:

"--Don't worry you playboy. I have no desire to put my head on a chopping block, and she's royalty -- the first Oriflamme princess too," the redhead tone's was in sheer awe as he continued: "This will be my first time even meeting an Oriflamme, even if she's far from the best."

Kaede filed away her question for the moment as she followed Pascal's wake on the left, her eyes transfixed upon the mighty fortress before her eyes.

Built on the shores of the North Sea, the 'Black Dragon Castle' was the seat of the Weichsel crown. As a three-layer concentric castle that formed the northern stronghold to Königsfeld's capital defenses, it was built entirely from ashen-black rocks on a steep, spell-terraformed hill which overlooked the sea. Mounted atop the powerful citadel keep was a sleek central tower, decorated by a massive dragon's head carving raised over twenty stories high. Combined with artistically designed 'wings' that stretched out from curtail wall battlements, the redoubt really did give the rough impression of a legendary dragon watching intently from the shores in defense the city behind it.

It was a powerful symbol of Weichsel's strength -- the declaration of its people's defiance and vigilance against the barbarian raiders from across the sea.

Several minutes passed before Kaede finally pulled her admiring eyes away from the fortress and asked Reynald:

"I read that the Oriflamme Paladins are chosen by the twelve phoenixes of Rhin-Lotharingie to serve as the nation's guardians. What else is special about them?"

The response came back with the excitement of a starry-eyed fanboy zealously worshiping his heroes:

"Only that they're some of the best spellswords across Hyperion, both in prowess and sheer style. When duty calls, they form a union with their phoenix familiars, and look absolutely kickass in their halo of golden blue-white flames. They glide through the air on burning wings and hurl blue flames that melt through plated steel... any knight of Hyperion who claim that they aren't envious of the Oriflammes in some way is outright lying."

Kaede wondered just how much resemblance they bore to Arthur's Knights of the Round Table, or perhaps more appropriately -- the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne. The translation spell did match their name up with Oriflamme, the golden flame battle standard once carried by the great Kings of France.

"Not all sword-and-sorcery either," Pascal added as he continued to stride ahead. "They also make some of Rhin-Lotharingie's best commanders and mages. In fact, the latest addition to their ranks is a young bard of sorts. Furthermore, only Oriflamme Paladins -- their character proven by the phoenixes' choice -- may inherit the throne, so the phoenixes always select at least one individual from the royal line of succession. As you can imagine, Sylviane's appointment is more political than purely martial."

"How is it that you always manage to pick the most hopelessly realistic thing to say?" Reynald pouted. "Way to ruin my romantic childhood dreams of knights-in-burning-armor."

"I practice," Pascal replied sarcastically. "Romanticism has no place in my army, or any army..."

"Your army?" Reynald cut in. "Think the King might care to hear this?"

"The King is the one who kept comparing me and father when he personally knighted me. Mark my words -- I will become Marshal. It is just a matter of time..."

"Aren't you--"

Pascal then trampled over Reynald's interjection by the sheer weight of his stern voice:

"But as to the topic: we already have enough necessary wars, Reynald. There is no need for unnecessary ones because some foreign idiot believes it is 'noble' for them to launch one."

"I wholeheartedly agree with that," Kaede added with a firm nod. Philosophers may disagree with how 'necessary' any war was; but as a historian, she couldn't be more proud of Pascal's attitude towards his profession.

"I thought real generals only feels at home on the battlefield?" Reynald tossed in rather hypothetically, not even taking a moment of thoughtful break.

"'Real' generals also do not enjoy seeing their men get killed," Pascal countered harshly. "There are other ways to simulate a battlefield, whether over a beer casket or under a projector. Kaede even introduced me to a term from her home realm -- marvelously simplistic really: they call it 'wargaming'."

By this time, they finally walked across the castle moat's lowered drawbridge and saluted the guards: a squad of garrison in partial plate and two officers in pitch-black armor.

Pascal then stepped forward and produced a tightly bound scroll from his enchanted pockets before handing it to the officer in charge.

"I am Pascal Key Lennart von Moltewitz, the new Landgrave of Nordkreuz, and these two are my retainers. We are here to request an audience with the King."

The two officers were meticulous, first scanning the scroll with magic and then the three of them.

"You're clear, Milord," the guards saluted after they finished their security procedures. "My condolences for the Marshal. Every soldier of Weichsel shall miss his passing."

"Thank you," Pascal said simply before continuing on into the outermost castle courtyard.

"What am I, your squire?" Reynald snubbed back at Pascal once they were out of the soldiers' earshot. His voice was dripping with sarcasm: "would you like your greaves polished with that, Sir?"

"After the trip here? You can be my stablehand."

----- * * * -----