“Before she was a part of The Seraph, Lorelai was a passionate knight that shone on the battlefield. She would rush headfirst into danger, her swords dancing amidst a constant rain of blood and flesh. It was a beautiful display of technique and control, and it captivated the hearts of everyone that witnessed it, including me. I remember the day she was promoted to a Throne. Her golden, flowing hair glimmered amidst the sun’s light, and deep, silver eyes burning with steadfast conviction met my gaze. At that moment, my heart and soul belonged to her. Now, and forevermore.”

King Ascalon, Ruler of Polus

———

Ascalon

“Lorelai?” Annalay gasps, struggling to maintain balance. “Is…Is it really you?”

“By the stars above,” Dariel murmurs. “This entire time… she was right in front of us?”

Lorelai(?) gives everyone a confused look, doubt displayed across her face. She stumbles into the middle of the room, looking at her reflection amidst the clear surface on the floor. An ashy-toned face looks back at her in wonder, her skin rugged, yet elegant, from years of combat. She stares at the figure for a moment before slowly rising up in hesitation.

“I-I’m Lorelai?” she mumbles. “That can’t be true. I’m not one of The Seraph, I… was I?”

Lorelai clutches her head as her face contorts into a mixture of anguish and distress. Her body crashes into the nearby furniture and she falls pitifully onto the floor, her previous calm composure replaced by a manic bewilderment.

“I can’t remember. I can’t…. Why!? Why can’t I remember!?” she wails, clawing at her face in desperation.

Ascalon quickly dashes to her side and pulls her close into an intimate embrace. His tears stain his armor and his body trembles in relief. They stay together for a while, neither one willing to let the other go. He quietly waits for her to quiet down before gently wiping the tears off of her cheeks.

“It’s ok, Lorelai,” he whispers, his voice struggling to remain stable. “You don’t have to remember. What matters is that you’re here. You came back. We can always make new memories. With Annalay, with Sarathiel, with everyone else among the kingdom. So please…don’t leave me again.”

Ascalon has never felt so vulnerable, so defenseless. All the rage and grief he bottled up over the past couple of days empties out in a wave of solace. Not even the mantle of King matters to him in this moment, for all he cares about is the bundle of warmth within his arms and the love that consumes his entire being.

“I don’t know if I can be the same Lorelai within your heart,” she mutters, slowly regaining her composure. “It’s possible that I might never recover my memories. But even so, I can feel your warmth. Your tears. And if my presence can be of comfort to you, then I will stay by your side as long as you wish.”

Dariel is filled with joy at the sight of the missing Throne, but a lurking sense of uncertainty haunts his mind. Something feels…off, but what is it? The more he tries to think, the more jumbled his thoughts become.

“To think I was with her this entire time,” Dariel gasps in disbelief. “But…did she always sound like that? I could have sworn…”

Dariel staggers, his mind a cacophony of thoughts. What is he pondering again? Something about Lorelai’s voice? He struggles to remain focused, but his thoughts escape from his grasps. He can’t….He-

”Wait, no…yeah, come to think of it. Her voice is the same. Why…Why couldn’t I recognize it? That’s odd.”

He shrugs, his face devoid of emotion.

”Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Meanwhile, Annalay nervously punches herself behind him, both elated and mortified at the revelation.

“Shit, I should have known those blows felt familiar,” she mutters. “If Lorelai gets her memories back, she’s going to absolutely demolish me.”

Annalay chuckles to herself, amused at the thought. It isn’t the first time she’ll have her ass kicked by her, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Well, I suppose it isn’t too bad. If beating me up brings her old self back, I’ll gladly serve as her punching bag.”

Ascalon pulls himself away from Lorelai and a blush on his cheek begins to form, thankfully hidden beneath his helm.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “We were just… really worried about you.”

He coughs awkwardly as the others give him a bemused smile.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“What about the Solga and Lunas? Do you remember using any twin blades?”

“Twin blades… do you mean these?”

She unsheathes the blades from the plain looking scabbards. Although they have lost their shine and are covered in a muted grey, they are undoubtedly the twin treasures of the kingdom.

“I remember having the blades on me, but a strange sensation courses through my body whenever I try to use them, as if they’re rejecting me, so I used the mace during my spar against Annalay.”

“Ah, I see,” Ascalon whispers sadly. “The twin blades only allow those it acknowledges among The Seraph to wield them. Since The Miasma ravaged your mind, it must have deemed you unworthy due to your maddened state. You probably changed your armor and scabbards while still partly sane in order to hide away from sight, but the blades abandoned you in the process.”

He gently grabs the palm of her hand.

“But don’t worry, you always plowed through any challenge that came your way. You wielded them once before, I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll wield them again.”

She gives him a soft, comforting smile, just like she always did whenever feelings of burden overtake him.

“Anyways, you should get some rest. I’ll bring you back to the old room you used to occupy in the castle.”

He glances at the other two and gestures with a subtle nod of his head. They get the memo and return back to their respective areas, making sure to give him an enthusiastic bout of encouragement before leaving.

Ascalon takes her out of the throne room and escorts her towards her old room in the castle, talking about memories and stories of their past along the way. Although there is much for her to catch up on, Ascalon is happy nonetheless. She is here, in his sight, in his arms, and that is all that matters.

“I was only fourteen years old when we first met,” he reminisces as they stroll through the halls. “At the time, I was but a mere squire. A knight in training picked up from the war torn lands of the border. I arrived at the capital the very day that you had been enshrined as captain. It was…a stunning sight. The people cheered as you were paraded around the city, for your visage inspired hope within all that met your gaze. You were a radiating light amongst the uncertain darkness of the future.”

“That’s… quite the heavy mantle to carry,” Lorelai murmurs.

“Ah! Um, I apologize. I didn’t mean to burden you with expectations. I-I just wanted to show how much the people care about you, and how willing they are to lend you aid. It matters not your current state, simply your presence is enough to fill our people with vigor. Your memories, your strength, we can find them all in due time together. United as one.”

“Thank you. Truly, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“If you want to thank me, then you should start by getting some respite.” He smiles as the two arrive at an intricately carved door with the image of the twin blades embedded in the middle. “Everyone will be overjoyed to hear that you’ve returned, but you should rest yourself for now. I’ll reintroduce you to everyone in the palace once dawn breaks.”

Ascalon gently opens the door and reveals a large, quaint room filled with the musty smell of parchment and lavender. A small oil lamp sits upon a table near the window, illuminating the countless sprawl of books and scrolls that dot the surrounding of the dwelling. Lorelai’s eyes appear to sparkle as she beholds the miniature library. She runs her finger along the spine of an old tome nearby, the aged material tingling on her skin.

Ascalon chuckles at the sight of her exploring the room. Even without memories, her child-like wonder towards literature remains ever passionate.

“Even if you can’t regain the self of your past, I’ll always be by your side,” he says softly as the two share a parting hug before he leaves. “I-I know how tiring the burden of responsibility, of expectation, can be, and I wish not to inflict that upon you. What matters is the present, and the future that we may bring about together.”

“Together,” Lorelai grins as she closes the door. “I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night, Ascalon.”

The door shuts and Ascalon walks away, his heart fluttering with joy. However, a spark of rage remains deep inside his body, reminding him of how close he came to losing her forever.

And it is all because of Xeros.

“The Nox almost took you away from me,” he whispers. “But don’t worry my dear. I’ll make sure that they’ll pay for this.”

His amber eyes begin to radiate from their sockets; a wildfire grows within, threatening to spiral out of control.

“No matter the cost.”

———

The Knight

The Knight sits on the bed and ponders its next course of action while Aegis plays with its golden hair, distracted by the shininess of the color.

“I won’t be able to manifest wings like The Seraph do, so I’ll be counting on your help, Aegis,” The Knight says, pulling the baby away. “You’ll have to manifest the wings onto me in my stead.”

Aegis tilts his head as confusion spreads across his face.

“Do you remember flying in the sky with that winged woman from before?”

Aegis coos excitedly.

“To do that, you need to grow your own wings. Remember that feeling of being in the air and imagine yourself soaring through the sky above. Creation is a power that beckons to your call. As long as you will it, the world around you will grant your wish.”

Aegis attempts to do as The Knight says, but lets out a big yawn instead. He struggles to keep his eyes open, tuckered out by all of the action and excitement the day provided.

The Knight gingerly tucks Aegis into bed. He cuddles himself against its stomach and drifts off to dreamland.

“We’ll try again later. Rest up and gather your strength.”

For now, The Knight must plan. Aegis must become stronger or else the future remains grim. Luckily, the countless tomes in the room will serve well to gather information about the current age. Knowledge is a boon that one must not disregard, for the words that dot the pages showcase the culmination of human efforts and history, passed down from hand to hand in an effort to pave the way for those that come after.

The Knight looks out of the window and sets their sight on the city below. The town is alive with joyous laughter and celebration. Citizens flock around the taverns and partake in boisterous revelry within the entertainment district while the glowing light of the night moon illuminates the nation.

It is a happy sight, yet there is a darkness hidden amongst their cheery expressions. Although they may distract themselves in luxury, they cannot escape war’s grim presence.