Daybreak:Volume 5 Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Root of All Conflict

"Many people could not condone the killing of innocents, but would shed no tears for the Imperium whose own actions led to this moment. In the end, are the perpetrators martyrs, or murderers? Most seemed to answer with one or the other. Yet the truth resists such black and white simplicity -- for these men are simultaneously heroes and villains, freedom fighters and terrorists. And only those blinded by agenda or propaganda will cite one but not the other."

- Kaede, diary entry on April 23rd, Year 567:Faith

"Uhnnnnng..."

Kaede groaned as she shifted under the comforter. The girl laid on her side with a shoulder exposed to the cool air. She wished it was still winter so she could stay completely cocooned beneath layers of heavy covers.

It's not even light, she thought as she blinked her eyes. Why did I wake up so early?

The petite girl moved her arms before she noticed her slim fingers grasping a large hand. She felt the weight of a limb slung over her side and a second hand hanging over her bare back. The tall figure held her close as she stretched her curled up legs and brushed against a knee. Her arms barely moved before her gloved fingers came into contact with a firm chest.

Huh-?

Alertness entered her mind as Kaede felt the touch of a protruding tent pressed against her bare thighs. The petite girl instantly froze in place as burning heat rushed into her face.

Why is he in my bed? What kind of rushed development is this!?

Kaede's thoughts ran through her memories of the previous night. She had asked Pascal to stay until she fell asleep as she had been expecting nightmares again. The Samaran girl often had dreams where she found herself on a horrific field of slaughter covered by blood, flames, and charred corpses. And on nights like the previous when she couldn't stop thinking about the battles she went through, she often requested company -- which back at Lithia village meant she often shared a bed with her maid Marina.

However, she had expected Pascal to return to his own room after she fell asleep. Though it wasn't hard to answer why he hadn’t left, when she awoke grasping his hand.

It wasn't the first time Kaede had slept in the same bed as Pascal. In fact, they had done so every night around two months ago, when he was still recovering from his grievous injuries and needed help just to relieve himself at night. Nevertheless, the girl was at a loss on how to react after touching that part of him. Though she did understand from the experiences of her previous life that this was hardly something that he could control.

But this is dangerous! Keep this up and he's going to give me an 'accidental pregnancy'!

Blushing furiously from every pore on her face, Kaede released Pascal's hand and wiggled out from beneath his arm. The girl extracted herself from the comforters and shivered slightly as she climbed out of her four-poster bed. The night temperature of her room was a good coolant for the heat of her embarrassment.

Cold...

The gentle warmth that radiated from her silky charmeuse garment began to increase. The snowy-white one-piece that clung to her torso was almost reminiscent of a leotard with silver inlays tracing its seams. More heat flowed from the matching long gloves and thigh-high stockings which completed the ensemble. The entire set was enchanted to warm or cool her body at a mere thought.

Her lingerie even boasted indulgent conveniences such as self-cleaning and skin care. It really was rather excessive in Kaede's view. But the expenses that Pascal had spent customizing it made her feel that it would be a waste to not enjoy its comforts. And this was a pattern that repeated many times with her few but often expensive belongings.

My mana seems recharged at least, she thought as she sensed an overflow of magical energy which her enchanted garments drew upon.

Being a mage's familiar meant she absorbed mana from her master and distance was always a factor. Kaede had been cut off during her weeks at Lithia and the effects grew noticeable over time. Fatigue accumulated faster each day as time wore on and her available mana slowly depleted. The familiar had never felt like she was near empty, but it was clear that she needed to manage her mana reserves when she was away from him for long periods of time.

Gazing back into her bed, Kaede saw that Pascal was still soundly asleep. She pulled the comforter up slightly so that it fully covered his shoulders. His eyes remained closed while his black eyepatch laid on the bedside table.

Thank you for staying with me. The familiar smiled as she looked upon his peaceful expression in the dim light.

Kaede knew that she was one of those people whom, once they woke up, wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She moved to the windows to peek out from between the curtains, where she saw the reddish glow of pre-dawn light outside. The scene always reminded her of her first morning in this world -- when she stepped out onto a roof to gaze upon the beautiful yet alien sky of Hyperion. Though back then, her memories from a past life had left her in denial of her new self in this marvellous world.

A Samaran's memories truly are a double-edged sword, the familiar thought before she forced her mind onto a more pleasant topic.

I haven't seen a sunrise from the tip of this island yet...

With that thought, Kaede found her messenger bag and dug out one of her other outfits from its extradimensional storage. It was a white pseudo-uniform with straight black lines -- the same one she wore when Reynaud came to meet her two days back. She also had another set with the exact opposite colors, both of which she wore back when she was on military campaign. After all, when the war first began, she wasn't an enrolled member of the military or had any rank, and was recognized only as 'Pascal's familiar' by those whom she met.

Not that the feudalistic Lotharin military had any official uniforms, Kaede thought as she knelt down to lace up her knee-high white boots with their cushy wedge heels.

The outfit Gerard wore yesterday came as a part of the new military reforms. However, they were quite a rare sight, as Pascal's push to centralize and standardize Rhin-Lotharingie's armies was slow and often met strong opposition. The elites always preferred decentralized rule where they would hold power in the 'local fiefdoms' they carved out as their own. This was as true for feudal lords as it was for the multinational corporations back on Earth.

If only we had another year or two before the war escalated...

The girl sighed as she stood up and checked every part of her outfit in the dim light before departing from the room.

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

"It's gorgeous..."

Kaede whispered to herself as she walked toward the edge of the gargantuan rock upon which the Oriflamme Castle stood. The light of daybreak in the east had painted the heavens in a reddish glow, mirrored in the choppy waters of Lake Alis below. Overhead, the colossal gas giant moon still dominated the northern sky with its deep indigo hue. Meanwhile the clouds, though bathed in the amber light of dawn, retained a faint tinge of blue.

Apart from the soothing sound of lapping waves, Kaede could also hear the faint strains of a harpsichord. Its gentle melody ebbed and flowed like the morning tide, rising and falling with calm grace which relaxed and eased the mind.

Such beautiful music as well... though who could be out playing at this hour? Kaede wondered as the sounds came from the shores below the fortress' rock.

The slight girl was uncomfortable with the thought of moving closer to the slippery ledge to peek down. The colossal boulder was surrounded on three sides by sharp inclines and cliffs that had at least a ten story drop. She moved back towards the castle before spotting a footpath that allowed her to descend the rocky outcrop. The route led her down a series of steep stairs carved into the stone, which were wide enough for only one man to traverse.

Don't look down... don't look down... I can do this...

Kaede hugged the rocky wall closely as she slowly made her way down. The path's other side had little more than shrubs before a steep drop. The descent was nerve-wracking and the girl could feel her emotions fraying from the internalized stress. And by the time Kaede reached the bottom, her legs almost collapsed beneath her as she closed her eyes and stopped to take several deep breaths.

Even in her former life, Kaede had come to realize that her senses were more keen than the average person's. This wasn't entirely a good thing, as the acute sensory perception meant she was easily overwhelmed by external stimuli and left in a state of emotional stress. So while most of her friends craved excitement, she wanted more peace and time to process her own thoughts. Becoming Pascal's familiar only intensified all of these traits and left her often needing a break to practice 'mental hygiene'.

The Samaran girl followed with several rounds of 'box breathing' meditation as she relieved her built-up stress. The sound of lapping waves and the faint melody of the harpsichord in the distance both helped.

Still cold...

Kaede cranked up the heat from her undergarments as she shivered amidst a cold breeze from the lake. She began to slowly walk across the narrow beach while listening to the sound of crunching pebbles beneath her feet. The girl had never realized that the shores to the north of the city were so isolated. It would be an ideal spot to take long walks, were it not for the anxiety-inducing trail down from the top.

Regardless, Kaede clearly wasn't the only one drawn to the place. The petite girl still couldn't see who was playing, as small mangrove-like trees lining the beach obscured her view. Yet, as she drew closer to the harpsichord's gentle melody, she found herself slowed by a mesmerizing scene -- as the already beautiful sunrise in the east was further adorned by a breathtaking view.

A drifting cloud of sky lanterns hovered above the lake's mirrored surface. Dozens of the simple hot-air balloons floated lazily, never rising too high nor straying far ashore. Around them danced hundreds of shimmering water globules, each bead tracing its own slow orbits through the air. The water droplets dispersed the light of the lanterns and dawn alike, creating a scattering of prismatic hues across the air in a magical light show.

Amazing...

Not wanting to disturb whomever it was, the familiar slowed further until her footsteps almost stopped making noise on the pebbled ground. She could see now that a small audience had gathered by the beach for the sunrise recital. Meanwhile, a column of light seemed to descend from the skies upon the swaying, feathered hat worn by the harpsichord's player.

A large and blobby white mat was spread across the rocky beach and even into the water. On top of it lounged two middle-aged women in white cloaks. One of them had a flaming-blue phoenix perched atop her shoulder, which suggested that she was a Paladin. Meanwhile a third, younger woman stood to the side like an attendant, though her attention was no less entranced by the beautiful view.

Wait, is that... living tofu?

Kaede stared wide-eyed at the blobby mat that formed a bed so huge it could easily fit ten people. It was made entirely from a pure white substance with a smooth, silky surface. Over half of the mat floated atop the water offshore as it bobbed up and down. Nevertheless, she could see the sides and corners wiggle independently which proved the huge blob was alive.

There was a time when her jaw would have dropped to the floor upon seeing such a sight. However, that was before she met Perceval, who also had a white pudding familiar that he christened 'Putty'. The ooze, or slime as some might call them, was a decomposer that turned any organic matter it gobbled up into more of itself. However, those that were tamed as familiars made for great companions as its blobby body was nutritious and could form any furniture one needed.

I want one... The girl looked dreamily upon the huge blob.

Kaede was still entranced by the sight of the huge 'living tofu' mattress when she suddenly sensed someone behind her. However, she was far too slow to react as the assailant kneed her behind the waist.

"Wai-Mmmph!"

The Samaran girl yelped in pain as her spine arced backwards. Her assailant took the opportunity to shove a small apple between her lips. A stalk-like thread pulled into a gap between two teeth. A second hand also grabbed her left wrist with a vice-like grip and twisted her arm behind her until pain shot through her limb.

"Spit that out and it'll go boom!" Kaede heard a sweet yet ominous girlish voice whisper into her ear.

"Nnnggh!" She gagged with her achingly stretched jaw. She's going to murder me!

The petite girl froze in fear as she felt a cold edge press against her throat. Her attacker could slit her neck within an instant and she couldn't even cry out or plead for mercy. There was nothing she could do except stay bent backwards and hope for the other side to realize that she wasn't a threat.

"Milord!" The girl holding Kaede called out. "I've caught a spy."

The melody came to an abrupt stop while its audience turned around. Kaede could see the three women all wearing white uniforms with red borders and trim. Their skirts reached past the knees in the back but were short in front where they exposed military-style white leggings. A cloak with arm slits on both sides wrapped around each woman. And adorned upon the fabric was a large 'L' in silver and red trim.

They're... the Lazarus Order?

Kaede wasn't sure as she had only read about them in passing. They were supposedly a secular paramilitary hospitaller order from the southern Kingdom of Garona -- one of the four vassal kingdoms of the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie.

"That's the Crown Prince Consort's familiar," the oldest-looking of the three women said in a calm, almost flat voice.

She was the one with a phoenix and was somewhat recognizable to Kaede. However, the pinned girl was too terrified to remember where they had previously met.

The woman seemed to be in her 'thirties' and revealed a thin figure as she stood with elegant poise. However, she was neither a great beauty like her companions nor had aristocratic bearing. In fact, her appearance seemed almost plain aside from a pair of inquisitive gray eyes, as well as a flower-like bun of her premature graying-silver hair wrapped behind her head.

Yes please tell them I'm no enemy before this girl slits my throat!

"Nnnggh!"

The Samaran girl's cries were muffled by the 'apple' gagging her lips. Kaede dared not even nod as she felt the bladed edge pressed against her neck.

"She's... a familiar?" A bewildered voice came from one of the others.

"Yes," the first speaker replied. "I saw her standing behind Landgrave Pascal during the previous war council. Considering what we know about the future crown prince, I cannot imagine it to be anyone else.

"She's no threat," the woman then added.

"Yvette, let her go," the other woman, a beautiful blonde who looked just barely in her middle age, ordered with a soft yet commanding voice.

"Yes, Mistress Ariette."

Kaede heard her assailant reply. The girl finally let go of her arm and pulled away the knife placed against her throat.

"Don't spit. Don't swallow either." The girl then giggled.

My life is not a game for you to make jokes with!

"Yvette." The authoritative Ariette sent her a stern look.

"Sorry!"

Kaede felt the other's fingers press against her teeth where they pushed down the thin stalk that was caught in a gap. Only after that did the woman pull out the small apple before tossing it into the lake. The fruit sank into the water before a small eruption rose from the surface.

That really was a bomb!

The petite girl felt her entire body tremble as she realized she had almost been killed in multiple ways. Her legs suddenly gave out and she coughed several times as she collapsed to sit on the cold ground.

"<Kaede, are you all right?>" Pascal's voice suddenly spoke in her mind via their familiar bond's telepathy. "<I felt a sudden sense of danger from you. Almost woke up in cold sweat.>"

"<Yes... I'm okay... just... misunderstanding with a few soldiers... sorry for waking you,>" Kaede replied as she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

Now that the initial misunderstanding had been cleared and her life was no longer flashing before her eyes, she could manage the rest. There was no reason to involve Pascal in this.

By the time she reopened her gaze, a tall and handsome middle-aged man had walked in front of the others. He stood in an unblemished white outfit with silver trim, in a similar style as the women around him.

The man raised his gloved hand to tilt a plumed chevalier hat. He had a lanky build with narrow shoulders, long limbs, and almost disproportionately lengthy fingers. His face sported a high nose and striking deep-violet eyes, all of it framed by wavy chocolate-brown hair and an immaculately curled mustache.

"Milady, please have my sincerest apology for the misunderstanding," he spoke in a suave voice as though he was asking her to a dance. "Are you Dame Kaede?"

A second flaming-blue phoenix flew over to land on his padded right shoulder. The bird chirped at Kaede as though recognizing that she was not an enemy. After all, phoenixes were renowned as empaths who could identify friend versus foe by reading emotions -- which was necessary as their magical blue-white flames roasted only their enemies alive, while to allies they merely felt like a soothing fireplace that kept the air warm.

"Professor Gaston," Kaede whispered in awe as she recognized the famous Duke of Dandies himself.

"I do apologize, my dear. Were you one of my students at Alisia Academy?" The man asked in a deep yet velvety-smooth voice as he leaned down to offer an open hand in a pristine white glove.

"No, Your Grace. I apologize." Kaede reached out and allowed him to help pull her up.

The girl then bowed her head and dipped a shaky curtsy. She might not be well-versed in the manners of the nobility, but even she knew that Duke Gaston Lazare de La Conde was technically head of one of the most powerful Lotharin aristocratic houses.

"I'm Kaede, the familiar of Landgrave Pascal of Nordkreuz, who had been one of your students."

"Ah yes, the 'Runelord'. How could I have forgotten?" Gaston chuckled at Pascal's nickname back at the academy.

Nevertheless, the Duke leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the back of her gloved hand. He then stepped back and bowed deeply with the grace of a perfectionist butler.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Milady," he declared with a beaming smile as he stood back up. "I am enchanted to find myself in your exquisite company."

His teeth were a perfect white which was rare even among the nobility. Kaede could see them almost sparkling despite the fact he faced away from the sun's gaze. A warm breeze carrying flower petals blew against her which brought the calming smell of lavenders. The pebbled beach around them seemed to bloom like a flower garden, as though Kaede found herself in a Japanese TV drama with its exaggerated special effects.

The snowy-haired familiar had enough magic sensitivity to tell that it was an illusion that the Duke had effortlessly conjured. Nevertheless, the girl couldn't help staring in slack-jawed amazement as a faint blush came to her cheeks.

"L-likewise, Your Grace," Kaede barely collected herself enough to respond after a long pause.

What kind of romance comedy is this? She looked away with embarrassment. Kaede had to remind herself that despite appearances, the Duke being a mage was likely old enough to be her grandfather.

"How is your master doing?" Gaston asked before a hint of disapproval entered his tone. The light around him seemed to dim as though reflective of his mood. "I've heard he has since graduated to summoning a blighted dusk instead."

"It's not what the rumors claim, Sir," Kaede looked down as she felt a stab of guilt at her chest. "Pascal lost control of a spell. The friendly fire at Glywysing was not intentional."

"Then he should learn to control his magic better before using it," the professor sent a reproachful look towards the castle before he turned back to her with a softening smile. "Regardless, it is not your fault, my dear. Though, I am curious about what brings your lovely presence here?"

It was partially my fault though, Kaede couldn't help thinking as she ignored Gaston's flirtatious tone.

"I was out watching the sunrise when I heard your beautiful melody, so I came down to take a look," Kaede responded before bowing slightly. "I apologize that I seem like a spy. I didn't want to alarm anyone or interrupt the sublime performance."

"An unfortunate misunderstanding, as I had expected," the handsome nobleman smiled.

Kaede turned to the ladies next and met the serene gaze of the woman she recognized earlier. She was about to thank them before her eyes widened in astonishment.

"Your ladyship... Marshal Cosette?"

"Yes." The rather taciturn Marshal nodded simply as she offered Kaede a smile so faint that the familiar could barely see.

Kaede had seen the Marshal only once before and they never spoke. However, she knew Cosette by reputation as the 'Tide Breaker' and one of the best defensive tacticians in Rhin-Lotharingie. People claimed that Cosette hadn't held a single rank or title and was only known as 'Gaston's mistress' when the late Emperor met her. Yet, after only a single meeting, Geoffroi promoted her straight to the rank of Marshal of the Empire, one of the Six Great Officers of the Crown.

It was an act that has since baffled nobles and commoners alike, for many asked: 'just what quality did the Emperor see in her to be so impressed?'

"Where are my manners, I should have made introductions already," Gaston interjected before he presented the women one by one. "Dame Cosette, you already know. The one besides her is Dame Ariette, Knight Matriarch of the Lazarus Order. The younger two are my aides -- Lady Mariette," he gestured to the attendant who was frantically scribbling notes upon a booklet, "and the one who grabbed you earlier, Lady Yvette."

Is there a naming scheme going on here? The lightly bruised girl thought as she noticed the similarities.

"Lady is a bit much, Milord," Kaede heard Yvette's saccharine voice from behind her which sent another shiver up her spine. The girl thankfully moved away before she continued. "Mistress Ariette and Marshal Cosette may have since earned royal recognition. But there isn't a drop of noble blood between Mariette and myself."

The Samaran girl tried not to let her anxiety show as she dipped down in a proper curtsy this time. "I'm honored to meet you all."

One thing was for certain: she needed to do some research on the Lazarus Order. Kaede felt aghast by her own ignorance as she did not even realize that Marshal Cosette was a member of the organization or that Duke Gaston was at least affiliated.

"Are you all here to attend the war council today?" She asked.

"No, only Cosette and myself will be attending," Ariette responded.

The beautiful older woman gazed upon the familiar with a kind, motherly smile that naturally made Kaede feel at ease. She appeared to be just entering middle age, though it was a bit difficult to judge due to how well she took care of herself.

The Knight Matriarch stood tall and slim with an amazing figure. Her gorgeous blonde hair ran down her back in a waterfall that reached her wide hips. Her eyes were a soft aqua-blue and she had fair skin that shone like she was a cosmetics model. Yet, when one looked closely, the woman had quite a few wrinkles at the corner of her eyes that hinted at a greater age.

"Not you, Your Grace?" Kaede then turned towards the Duke.

"No," Gaston answered with distaste. "I've little interest in a political council on waging identitarian bloodshed."

That's not a synonym of 'war' that I hear often, Kaede raised her eyebrows.

"But aren't you one of the commanders of the Garona war front?" She asked.

"Only on paper," Gaston replied as though even this nominal assignment annoyed him. "The late Emperor Geoffroi may have written my name onto some documents. But Cosette is the one in command. I merely help her out from time to time."

"He's also a co-regent for the Kingdom of Garona's child-queen, but 'only on paper'," Ariette added in jest before giggling behind her white glove.

"People do seem to make a habit of adding titles to my name without first attaining my consent," the Duke sighed with a faint scowl. "The late Emperor most of all, as he seemed to believe that by burdening me with unwanted responsibilities, he could pressure me to be more active in participating in his conflicts."

"It only goes to show how much people trust you, Milord," the pretty attendant who stood quietly behind them said in an awestruck voice. The admiration in Mariette's crystal-blue eyes as she stared at the Duke reminded Kaede of how pop music fans gazed upon their idols.

"Milord is an honorable man who has always tried to do the right thing, even if your course is often a bit... unconventional," the beautiful Ariette then added with a playful grin.

A forced smile came to Gaston's expression but it did not entirely hide his faint scowl. It hinted to Kaede that while Gaston didn't agree with the two girls, he also didn't want to openly disagree with them.

It does speak volumes that he would rather refuse positions that other nobles would fight over, the familiar thought.

"I take it that Your Grace does not approve of the war?" She then asked.

"There are few endeavors that I would disdain more than organized violence. Yet somehow I find myself embroiled in them time and again," the Duke scowled inwardly. "Perhaps it is, in the words of you Samarans, a result of 'karma' from my misspent youth."

"Your Grace may be surprised to hear that I'm in complete agreement with your sentiment," Kaede responded wryly before her voice grew more sarcastic. "However, the current war was not started by the Empire, but rather the actions of the so-called 'Liberation Army' -- which has unfortunately liberated us from all other options."

"I don't entirely agree." Gaston frowned. "History is never so simple that there is a single cause and effect to such cataclysmic events. Had it not been for the 1st and 2nd Garona Independence Wars, we would not be here today. And both of those bloody conflicts saw Rhin-Lotharingie intervening on the side of local uprisings inside the Imperium -- revolts organized by the Garona Liberation Army with our Empire's support."

That almost sounds like something an Imperial would say. Kaede's brows furrowed.

As a scholar of history, the Samaran girl certainly had to agree that the reasons for the current conflict traces back far more than the events of 'Unholy Friday'. There was also the Caliphate's invasion, which the Imperium helped provoke and now took advantage of. Nevertheless, it felt odd to hear that Gaston, a Lotharin duke, was against the independence wars that lifted the yoke of Imperial oppression from his own fellow brethren in the south.

But... isn't that because I'm used to hearing the Lotharin view?

Kaede felt glad that she left her initial thoughts unspoken as she realized they were rather 'kneejerk' as a response. The Imperium might not win any ethical debates with its often brutal treatment of the Lotharins. But it was undoubtedly the Lotharins who repeatedly agitated for violence to reunite their peoples in the more recent centuries.

"Milord, you know I cannot agree with that view," Ariette's previously playful tone vanished as she vehemently objected. "If we are to trace the cycle of violence, then we must also go back to the Imperium's conquest of Garona and most of Rhin-Lotharingie. Even during the Imps' self-proclaimed 'Pax Arcadia', the oppression and discrimination against us Lotharins forced the Garonans to launch repeated uprisings. The fact they failed does not imply that we had reached some status quo for peace."

The Duke kept his frown but otherwise simply nodded along as he clearly didn't want to argue. Ariette had tried to maintain neutrality in her words, but her tone when mentioning the Imperium revealed nothing less than pure loathing. Behind her, Marshal Cosette kept her silence without taking a stance, while the younger Mariette looked conflicted like a child torn between two arguing parents. However, the youngest of the four women, Yvette, showed no such indecision as she openly declared:

"There shall be no peace with the Imperium until there is peace for all Lotharins!"

The words sounded more like a nationalistic slogan than a well-thought stance. However, its effect on Kaede was the exact opposite as the Samaran girl couldn't help thinking back to Gaston's reasoning.

"But even if we're to trace back every cause and effect," she asked Ariette. "Is there even a single starting point where we can determine everything to have begun?"

The Knight Matriarch furrowed her brows and paused for a moment. The fact she stopped to think instead of reactively responding brought optimism to Kaede for a proper discussion. Nevertheless, Ariette exhaled a long sigh moments later before admitting:

"I doubt it. Though it doesn't really matter."

"It doesn't?" Kaede looked surprised. Isn't the whole blame game about who attacked first?

"No," Ariette replied. "We fight for the side that protects our loved ones from the violence of the enemy. Therefore, it matters not who began the cycle and only that it exists."

Unfortunately that doesn't help us bring an end to it, Kaede sighed.

"And in that regard, I feel it is my duty to remind Your Excellency," Ariette then added as she addressed Kaede in formal speech. "The Garona Liberation Army has done exactly what can be expected of them."

"But..." Kaede was almost in shock as she objected on instinct this time.

"Please do not misunderstand," the Knight Matriarch raised an open hand to interrupt. "I do not approve of the GLA's recent actions. But I do understand them when considering their history, as we're of a similar background."

Kaede closed her lips as Ariette's frown grew while her eyes looked down. Within her aqua gaze swelled not only sadness and sympathy, but also a pain that seemed deeply personal which left her pupils glazed.

"The Lazarus Order and the Garona Liberation Army both recruit primarily from those whose lives were destroyed by conflict," the older woman began in a dry voice. "The main difference is that the Lazarus Order seeks rebirth, to give girls who have been ruined by strife a second chance at life. Meanwhile, the Liberation Army weaponizes that desperation and trauma in a self-feeding cycle of revenge.

"Had the events of my life taken a different course, I could easily see myself among the perpetrators of the 'Unholy Friday' attacks," Ariette added in a hollow tone before she offered a bitter yet appreciative smile at Duke Gaston. "That is why I say that while I don't agree with their actions, it is not difficult for me to understand them."

Silence fell upon the group for a long moment after as nobody had any words to add. Even Kaede wasn't even sure how to react as she pondered the weight of Ariette's past.

It made the Samaran girl wonder just what atrocities had the older women experienced, and whether 'Lazarus' held the same meaning here as it did on Earth. The word was widely associated with resurrection due to the story of Lazarus of Bethany in the bible -- which might explain the girls' names as a form of 'born-again' symbolism.

It might also be a coincidence of the translation spell that Pascal had incorporated into their familiar bond. After all, Kaede had never actually learned to speak Lotharin. It was Pascal's magic that transformed her thoughts into the right words, often by drawing upon her existing knowledge from her past life on Earth.

"Dame Kaede, you should know that Dame Ariette is also the founder of the Lazarus Order." Gaston tried to lighten the atmosphere as he looked upon the Knight Matriarch with glowing admiration. "There is none who could fault the absolute marvellous job she has done in providing her girls with a new home and life."

In response, Ariette blushed and looked down bashfully as she took her long hair in her fingers and began to twirl its golden strands. Her voice was shy and humble as the Knight Matriarch even stuttered in her reply:

"I-it would not have been possible without your support and guidance, Milord."

It was as though the Duke had reduced the mature, middle-aged woman to a lovestruck maiden with a single statement.

Are they also lovers? Kaede couldn't help wondering.

"It is as Milord says, we owe you and him our lives, Mistress Ariette," said the attendant Mariette. Though she did that only after mouthing the Duke's words to herself as she copied it down in her little white book.

"Including those of some of us who are from the Liberation Army, or at least former," added Yvette.

The Samaran girl turned towards the person who attacked her earlier. Yvette had an appearance that was completely at odds with how the two met. The young woman seemed no older than twenty and had looks that could rival Aphrodite herself. Her beautiful, peridot-green eyes and dainty nose and lips formed a perfect balance between innocent cuteness and alluring beauty beneath her peachy-pink long hair. Complimenting them was a slim body that could rival a supermodel –- which she wasn't shy in showing as she sat cross-legged atop a nearby rock and juggled a trio of apples.

"Former?" Kaede whispered nervously.

Please tell me those aren't more bombs. She swallowed as she could easily imagine the girl being a child terrorist.

"In a manner of speaking," Yvette grinned sweetly. "The GLA trains people to become efficient tools of war, just like my apples -- ready to use, and easily disposable."

The girl giggled at her own grim joke before continuing. The callous words which followed felt entirely misplaced with her charming smile and seemingly-innocent gaze.

"One could say that I was 'disposed of', after I gutted an Imperial Praetor just as he climaxed... Or I would have been, had it not been for Milord who whisked me from the gallows."

...

The conversation had continued for some time before the girls began to 'clean up'. The sun was completely above the horizon now and it was clear that their impromptu recital by the lake was over. The cloud of floating sky lanterns had drifted to the shore as their candle flames were snuffed out. The paper lanterns lined up in neat rows as an unseen force folded them up. They then deposited themselves into a large storage pouch held open by Cosette and Mariette.

For a moment, Kaede wondered who was controlling the mass levitation magic before she remembered Duke Gaston's sobriquets -- the Pristine Lord and the Mundane Archmage.

He's a master of simple spells with a particular liking to telekinesis, she thought back to the hundreds of individually moving water droplets during the light show.

It amazed Kaede that Gaston didn't even seem distracted, as the two had continued to chat even as he maneuvered dozens of lanterns at once.

The snowy-haired girl then strolled over to the grand harpsichord that lay on the pebbled beach which Gaston had been playing earlier. The familiar noticed that the organ appeared to be the same one that Princess Sylviane had played yesterday on the roof. A ring of flowers also bloomed around the instrument which Kaede was certain didn't grow naturally.

"Your Grace, did you take this harpsichord from the castle?"

"Yes. I'm borrowing it," Gaston answered with a charming smile. "Its owner just doesn't know that I'm doing it."

Seriously? Kaede stared blankly at him. The Duke had taken it from the castle's roof, brought it down more than ten stories of cliffs, all so he could host a private recital at sunrise to entertain four women?

It was a level of effort that she couldn't decide was astonishingly impressive, or crossed the line into ridiculous. Either way, the girl couldn't help her curiosity as she asked:

"Was that really wise, Your Grace?"

"What is life if there is no art to appreciate and to make wonderful memories with?" Gaston answered in a poetic voice as he gestured to the distant rising sun. "One does not often witness the beauty of sunrise with a sublime backdrop like this. Thus I wished to share and dedicate the moment to the dearest ladies of my life."

Ladies...

It was the first time Kaede ever heard of a romantic openly and simultaneously flirting with multiple women. It hadn't escaped Kaede's attention either that the Lazarus girls all paid him such respect when they were a sorority.

"But tensions are high given the Imperium's declaration of war," she steered the conversation more towards rationality. "And nobody has forgotten that during the recent civil war, the pretender Gabriel had snuck an entire Knights Templar strike force into the palace to kill the late Emperor. Had you been discovered, it would have caused a major incident."

"Exactly what I had told him," said Ariette with a jesting smile.

"Life requires more flavor than mere pragmatism, my dear," Gaston beamed unapologetically. "One should seek beauty all the more in an age shrouded by violence -- so the time we share with our loved ones may be properly cherished."

"I don't disagree on principle," Ariette's smile grew. "After all, Milord, it was you who encouraged me and every member of the Lazarus Order to adopt an artistic hobby to add meaning to our lives, even if it's something as simple as my knitting. But there is a time and place to pursue such."

"I fail to see how this is a wrong time, considering the weight resting on your and Cosette's shoulders," the Duke added before turning to Kaede with a sparkle in eyes. "Besides, I simply needed to not be noticed, and I wasn't."

The Samaran girl returned an exasperated smile as she sighed and raised her hands in defeat.

"I won't say anything, as long as you promise me that you'll return the harpsichord to where you found it. Her Highness would be distressed to find it missing."

"Don't worry, I shall -- that was my plan all along." Gaston grinned. "If an item was taken and then replaced before the owner noticed, was it ever really missing?"

How very... philosophical for a legal interpretation, Kaede thought before chuckling to herself.

I guess he doesn't mean any harm at least.

She was about to ask what other hobbies he had encouraged for adoption in a knightly order. But she was interrupted when she heard Pascal's voice calling over their telepathic bond.

"<Kaede, where are you?>"

"<Down by the northern shores.>"

"<Beneath the cliffs?>" He voiced his amazement. "<Did I not tell you to avoid leaving the castle alone?>"

"<Ah... sorry,>" Kaede replied sheepishly.

"<Bring Laetitia with you next time. Poor girl was worried when she could not find you. Consider what it means for her, as the one responsible for your safety.>"

She could have called me via Farspeak...

Kaede touched her ears and realized she had forgotten her earrings. Pascal had enchanted them to let her accept Farspeak spells since she wasn't a mage.

"<I'm really sorry.>" She felt like a child being scolded.

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

Kaede was breathing hard as she returned through the door at the back of the castle. The climb up had felt like walking up a twelve story building. The familiar was quite glad that she was at least not wearing her corset dress.

"No, Ambassador Gerhard will not be attending the council today," she heard Cecylia's girlish soprano from the courtyard. "His Excellency has received expressed orders from King Leopold that Weichsel will not be entering this conflict."

"His Majesty is abandoning the alliance... with Rhin-Lotharingie?" Pascal huffed in a winded tone.

"As the ruler of Weichsel, the 'Northern March of the Trinitian Realm', King Leopold is caught in a dilemma," another man spoke whom Kaede recognized as Lieutenant-Colonel Hans Ostergalen, the military intelligence officer who served as Pascal's personal chief-of-staff.

"It was our nation's founder, King Ferdinand von Drachenlanzen, who petitioned the Pope to launch the First Crusade to redirect the Imperium's attention south," Hans continued. "For centuries, our leaders have relied upon 'Papal Appeasement' to influence the Imperator Augustus, to prevent the Imperium from attempting to turn us back into a vassal state. The King's defensive alliance with Rhin-Lotharingie may tiptoe the line. But it would be an unacceptable risk to abandon the policy entirely."

"Weichsel has joined every crusade before now," Cecylia added. "Not directly partaking in this one is the best that His Majesty can offer. And besides, in the eyes of the world, it was the Garonans who struck first."

"Which means he won't even stop individual Weichsen lords or soldiers from becoming crusaders." Sylviane exhaled a deep sigh of disappointment.

It's all politics in the end.

The Samaran girl thought of how geopolitical interests almost always superseded religious dogma when it came to wars. The famous alliance between Catholic France and Islamic Ottomans while they supported the Protestant League during the messiness of Europe's religious wars were clear examples of such.

Kaede peeked around a corner where she saw Princess Sylviane, Hans, and Cecylia all gathered around a stone table just outside the keep. A few paces away from them stood Pascal, who was practicing sweeping swings with his swordstaff. The young lord was almost naked above the waist despite the chilly air outside. He set his heavy polearm down with a clang before taking the towel he wore around his neck to wipe his sweat.

"Kaede!" Pascal called out to her in between his heavy breathing.

Should've known I can't hide from him. Kaede sheepishly stepped out and approached her master.

"I'm sorry." She bowed her head before him.

"Apologize to Laetitia later," Pascal ordered as he wiped his brows. "I gave her the day off, so you are to stay in the castle. Understood?"

"Yes." The girl nodded, feeling almost like she'd been 'grounded' for the day.

The Princess' bodyguard Elspeth stood nearby as the petite armiger also frowned disapprovingly at Kaede. Meanwhile, the bleary-eyed Sylviane unfolded a handkerchief and blew her nose in it. The Princess nevertheless gave the familiar a sharp sideways glance which clearly expressed her own displeasure, though for an entirely different reason.

She knows I slept with Pascal last night. Kaede swallowed. I'd better tread carefully today lest I invite any more of her jealousy...

It didn't help that Sylviane was suffering from severe allergies today. Kaede had been a bit surprised yesterday when the Princess seemed fine on the roof. However, as the wind had died down since, Her Highness' condition worsened as she struggled with the late April pollen -- a trait that was universal among her kind as a Faekissed Autumnborn.

The Samaran girl knew the Faekissed were the descendants of the ancient fae who mingled with humans. The Faerie Lords supposedly ruled much of Western Hyperion in ancient times as described in the Book of Invasions. However, for reasons unknown, they retreated through the portals back to their world before the arrival of the Dragonlords. All that remains of them today are the stone rings, the faekissed, and the various artifacts that could be found throughout the land.

Yet, unlike Samarans with their unblemished white hair or the Dhampirs with their cross-infused pupils and fangs, the Faekissed didn't have a distinctive physical trait. Even the Princess' purple hair and wisteria eyes didn't mean anything, as many mages had pupils or tresses dyed by the color of their mana.

"Pascal -- I swear, when this war is over, I'm going to put you to research on anti-pollen spells," Sylviane said in a thick and congested voice. "Now put your shirt back on before you catch a cold," she added with a faint blush while trying not to look at him.

"Yes, yes."

Pascal walked back to the table and grabbed his shirt from a stone stool. However, Cecylia had no qualms about staring at a man's naked torso as her 'hungry' gaze followed him.

"Good job rebuilding your muscles after your injuries. I'm impressed at your progress, hehe," the dhampir remarked.

"Cecylia," Sylviane gave her childhood friend a knowing glare as they met eye-to-eye. "My fiancé."

The dhampir girl merely giggled. Meanwhile, Pascal wisely said nothing for once. Instead, he cast a Sanctum Veil spell after Kaede came close to make sure the group's conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"Does that mean I can no longer receive intelligence from Weichsel's Black Eagles through you?" The Princess asked next.

"His Majesty said nothing about that, hehe," the dhampir whose uniform marked her as a member of said Black Eagles grinned.

"That's good news at least." Sylviane wiped her runny nose again -- an action she repeated almost every ten seconds. "Lord Henri and his new Bureau of Bookkeeping and Statistics has been providing me with intelligence. But I need a second source as I just don't trust that man."

"It is a bit hard to take them seriously, when they call themselves the 'BS Bureau' and make it sound full of accountants." Pascal straightened his uniform until his appearance was parade-worthy.

"That's intentional," Sylviane voiced. "Henri wants our enemies to belittle and underestimate them. It's why they intentionally spread that derisive nickname. I may not trust the man, but I recognize... his... talents..."

The Princess then gave a loud sneeze into her handkerchief.

"Cecylia, tell me the latest on the Imperium's commanders before I go back in," she muttered after blowing her nose again. "I've had enough outdoor time for today."

"Magister Marcus Avilius Belisarius is in overall command -- that seems settled," Cecylia began. "You already know him: calculated, efficient, tactically daring but strategically cautious. Our sources claim that he is also directly leading the Imperium's 'Army of the 4th Crusade', which is due to march against the Kingdom of Garona's capital of Narbona.

"A second army being assembled further east will strike at the fortress-city of Outremont," Cecylia explained further. "They're led by the Imperial General Gaius Cassius Aetius, the Portal Archmage."

"I've heard of the name, but..." The balding intelligence officer Hans frowned.

"I doubt you've studied him," Cecylia finished for him. "Aetius is from the southern continent. Made his career fighting the Caliphate and is known for his elastic defense and vertical envelopment tactics. The Imperium transferred him here despite his personal reservations. Sources claim that he doesn't like fighting Lotharins because he befriended Duke Gaston in his youthful adventuring days. There're unsubstantiated rumors that the two may have a bond even closer than that."

"What, are they secret lovers or something?" Pascal scoffed.

"It's not for intelligence to speculate on such," Cecylia shook her head. "That leads to self-deceptive behaviors such as 'motivated reasoning'. Just know that there is likely a bond there and it may run deep."

"Information is not intelligence. Data does not necessarily permit a conclusion," Kaede quoted before smiling towards Hans. "Isn't that right? Lieutenant-Colonel?"

"You're a good student," the middle-aged man chuckled.

"Still, quite rare to hear about two young nobles travelling and bonding together despite the deep ethnic hatred between Lotharins and Imperials," Hans mused aloud. "His Arcadian name is traditional too."

"Aetius is born-and-bred Arcadian," Cecylia referred to the origin culture of the Imperium -- the cross-shaped island in the Inner Sea which hosts the Imperial capital of Arcadia, the 'City of World's Desire'. "He's more of a true-blooded Imperial than even their Imperator."

"Which makes it all the more astonishing," Pascal frowned as though merely befriending an Imperial national was inappropriate.

Probably also why the Duke expressed disdain for 'identitarian bloodshed', Kaede thought before she told the others: "I met Duke Gaston earlier during my walk, actually."

The Princess instantly spun to face her with a handkerchief over her nose.

"He's here? In Alis Avern?"

"Yes, with Marshal Cosette, Dame Ariette, and a few others from the Lazarus Order."

"Is he coming to the war council?"

"No. I asked."

The Princess exhaled a deep sigh before she fumed:

"Again! He keeps doing that! My authority as the next Empress might well be scrap paper in his eyes."

"Even your late father couldn't summon him," Cecylia pointed out.

Sylviane sighed again.

"Father once told me that Duke Gaston, despite being a paladin and archmage, was exceptionally hard to depend upon in a conflict," she began. "He's Lotharin, but lacks any sense of cultural or national identity. He's a lord, but only seems to remember his titles and fief when he runs out of money. His religion varies by location. His disdain for marriage extends to most of his family...

"The only thing he consistently cares about is looking stylish and saving women," the Princess concluded with a scowl. "And he only serves the Empire today because my father was able to take advantage of the latter."

That does sound like him, Kaede thought based on her limited impression.

It made her wonder if Gaston only fought for Rhin-Lotharingie because the women he helped were more nationalistic than him.

"In Weichsel, his behavior would be considered treasonous," Pascal scowled.

"Father was not stupid, and neither am I," Sylviane rebutted. "To turn an Oriflamme Paladin and archmage into an enemy of the crown would be a catastrophic mistake. Gaston might be our vassal on paper. But in reality, the status of his position a... allow... a-Achoo!"

"--Allows him to do whatever he wants," Kaede quietly finished for the sneezing Princess.

The Samaran girl understood all too well from her own Russian father in her previous life that power structures were never as simple as they looked on paper. Though in this case, she somewhat admired the Duke. Clearly, Gaston was someone who had grown past the tribalistic yet virally infectious mindset of 'us-vs-them' and embraced a purer form of humanism -- those whose lives were destroyed by war deserve a savior, regardless of their nationality, religion, ethnicity, or any other identity.

Author's History Notes

Lazarus of Bethany - According to the Gospel of John, Lazarus had already been dead from an illness for four days already when Jesus prayed to God to call Lazarus out from his tomb. When Lazarus emerged alive, the miracle became the most powerful sign of Jesus' divine authority.

Book of Invasions - The 'Lebor Gabála Érenn' chronicles the mythological history of Ireland, which describes the taking of the island by multiple mythological races. This includes the Sidhe, who are generalized today as a race of powerful faeries from the Otherworld.

Franco-Ottoman Alliance - Established in 1536 between Francis I of France and Suleiman the Magnificent of the Ottoman Empire after the disastrous French defeat at the Battle of Pavia. The alliance lasted intermittently until the 18th century. Because the main foe of the alliance was the Catholic Habsburg Empire, they would come to directly and indirectly support many anti-Catholic forces (despite France also being Catholic), such as the French intervention during the Thirty Years War in favor of the Protestant League.