“There is much to do once I return. Gravitas’s replacement, Nokron’s recall, and above all else, I must prepare for the final push into Polus territory. The Beacon still requires a fair bit of time until its completion, but no matter. I can still use a fragment of The Thing’s power even without it. Such a contract will require a sacrifice, but I shall bear every burden if it means pacifying those winged pests once and for all. The way is lit. The path is clear. All that is left is to follow it.”
Grand General Xeros, Ruler of Nox Caelum
———
The Knight
The Magnus Murus is a rather somber sight from above. The light of the sunset bathes the fortress in rays of orange hues, and a large, dark shadow is cast upon the gathered legions of Polus advancing away from the forlorn walls. Their march is as disciplined as ever, but it is not easy to remain stalwart after a battle of such magnitude. The spirit is fatigued, body weary, but at least it is all over. Now is the time for rest.
Sarathiel meanwhile is hard at work serving as a demolitionist. The fortress cannot be allowed to stand any longer lest The Nox come and reclaim the weapons that remain within, and none better are suited for the task of felling the walls than the newly-invigorated Throne of Steel. He transforms into a hulking giant—body now in complete control of the Titanomachia—and forms a colossal great-axe from his steeled arms. With the weapon raised up high, he smashes down onto the fortress, obliterating everything in its path until nought remains of the structure but ruin and rubble.
“To think only a day has come and gone,” Ascalon says, watching the spectacle in air. “It feels as if I spent a lifetime navigating those grey halls.”
“Time is quite fickle, isn’t it?” The Knight chuckles.
“Indeed it is.”
A sudden shout from below alerts their attention. Surasha is waving at them near a large transport vehicle; she does not look happy,
“I think you should prepare yourself.”
“Yes…yes I should.”
The two spiral towards the ground and land on the earth. The moment they do, Surasha charges straight at her brother. Words cannot describe the raw fury in her eyes, and a paralyzing wave of fear seems to take over Ascalon’s body.
“W-Wait Surasha, I can-,”
But before he can finish, she delivers a powerful kick straight into his chestplate, the impact unleashing an earth-shattering boom that reverberates through the entirety of the expanse. He soars through the air, albeit not by his own volition, and crashes directly into Sarathiel who is returning from the now-collapsed fortress. Needless to say, the both of them are taken out.
“I…am going to go insane over you idiots,” she seethes, barely managing to hold in her anger. “Sarathiel, Cain, and especially you Ascalon, are all just…just…”
Surasha clenches her fist and prepares to move in for another blow, but she decides against it and instead turns towards The Knight and wraps it in a hug.
“Oh Lorelai, you’re the only one I can trust in this nation of suicidal imbeciles,” she mumbles.
“Haha, don’t go too hard on him Surasha,” The Knight says, patting her back. “You know Ascalon only means well.”
“I do. I really do, but someone has to scold him or else one of these days he’ll actually get himself killed.”
Ascalon rises back up, his fall cushioned thanks to Sarathiel’s sacrifice, and awkwardly walks over to the two. “Ah, but I’m alive aren’t I? Surely I deserve a little bit of praise for that.”
Surasha changes her mind and slams his gut with her fist. He buckles over instantly, breath more haggard than when The Knight pulled him out of his trance, and he collapses onto the floor rather pathetically. Even a Ruler is helpless before the wrath of their family.
“That’s because Lorelai had to rescue your sorry ass. Did you even think about the rest of us before you decided to take everything upon yourself?”
“O-Of course I did,” he wheezes. “I thought about protecting you all. I-It was the only way to stop the spread of his gas.”
Surasha sighs and helps him get up from the ground. “Ascalon, we’re not helpless. We’re capable of protecting ourselves, and it’s our duty as captains to bear the responsibility together. Yes, what you did worked out in the end, but think about the future. Think about how we would feel knowing that your death was caused by your weariness of us.”
Ascalon hangs his head down. He no doubt didn’t intend to undermine their resolve—after all, it is the instinct of a guardian to protect their own—but Surasha’s words are true. The Knight also pleaded such words to its beloved back in the very beginning, but for all her love and kindness, there is one trait of hers that always gave it endless worry: Stubbornness.
“Ascalon, you have to trust us. We’ll fall, get hurt, and maybe even lose a few limbs in the process—Stars know Cain has—but you have to trust that we’ll always stand back up. We’re not just burdens for you to worry about; we’re equals. I know you believe in all that crap about how Polus will just find another King if you ever die but-”
“I don’t.”
“Wha?” Surasha stumbles back. “You don’t?”
“Not anymore.”
She freezes for a moment. “Huh, you’re usually so preachy about that.”
“Really? Well, I have learned to be a bit more selfish with my life. I’ll still always prioritize your safety before my own of course, but I no longer want to be self-depreciative of my own worth.”
“Oh. Um, that’s great…wait no, I’m trying to say that you shouldn’t put our lives before yours!”
“I understand what you’re saying Surasha. I just choose not to follow it.”
She glares at him with a malice The Knight has never seen from her before. That gaze is enough to cripple even the most resolute of wills.
“…That doesn’t mean I don’t trust you all,” he attempts to console. “I know full well how capable everyone is, but even if you all were to be shielded by Cosmos herself, I would still worry about your well-being. I would still worry about your safety. I’m sorry Surasha, but that is just who I am, and I don’t regret that.”
She continues to glare at him, but Ascalon holds steadfast. They maintain their lock for a moment—neither one willing to relent—but in the end, he emerges the victor.
“…Haaah, Stars help me,” she groans. “You’re always like this. Fine, be that way. The next time you decide to do something like this again though, just think about how much trouble Lorelai will have to go through to save your stupid kingly behind.”
“I shall.”
She throws her hands up in the air in mock surrender and turns towards the transport vehicle. “Oh, by the way, Dismas wants all of us to gather in the library. He snatched some documents before the whole forest thing so he wants to discuss our next course of action before we move ahead.”
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“Alright, we’ll be there in a moment.”
She casts a side-glance to the still-unconscious body on the floor. “And bring Sarathiel with you too.”
———
The mood inside the library is filled with raucous applause and merriment. The moment they enter, Ascalon and The Knight are sieged by a barrage of hugs and joyous cries. Although their campaign is not yet over, and the most difficult part is yet to come, their progress thus far is cause for celebration. No captains have perished, and knight mortality is much lower than initially anticipated. Now is the time to soothe the soul.
“I-It’s not faaaair,” Deborah says with slurred words, mouth submerged in an excess of alcohol. “I-I wanted to be the one to slay Nokron. I was s-so pumped.”
Surasha yanks her from behind and guides her to an empty seat. “Ok, who in Cosmos’s name brought out the drinks? Like, really?”
“ ‘s fineee Surasha,” Deborah mumbles. “All the other knights are drinking too. Don’t we d-deserve a little fun?”
“Yeah, lighten up a bit,” Cain says with an overflowing mug in the corner. “Stars know I need a stiff one after all I’ve been through…”
She turns towards Abel and pleads for his help, but he just gives her a wry shrug. “Although I do not approve of drowning yourself to the extent Deborah has, a small bit of drink can’t hurt.”
Surasha groans and plops herself near Sarathiel’s seat. “Alright, fine. I guess it’s ok since we’re allowing the other divisions to have a little bit while they march, but at least maintain some dignity as captains.”
“Haha, it’s far too late for us to be acting like proper superiors!” Joshua giggles. “You, Simon, and Ascalon are the only ones who care about all that formality stuff anyway.”
“…’Tis true, Surasha,” Simon sighs, refraining from partaking in the festivities. “This current assortment of Polus captains hath long since abandoned any intent on proper etiquette.”
Dismas suddenly barges into the room with his hands filled with a bundle of documents and papers. “Alright, alright, settle down now ya bunch of drunken sods. Let’s get this nice and over with and we’ll all be able to go back doing Stars know what’s what.”
He tosses a letter onto the table and takes a seat. “First order o’ business: Xeros isn’t even in the capital at the moment.”
“Wait, huh?” Sarathiel says.
“Yeah. According to the letters, he’s up and left for some business in The Steppe abou’ a month ago.”
“That…certainly does propose some challenges,” Ascalon murmurs. “The entire point of this campaign is to aim for his head, not to occupy the Nox.”
“Eh, good news is he’s comin’ back soon. When though I haven’t the foggiest, but it does make this rush of ours a bit redundant now.”
“Not exactly,” The Knight joins in, setting a map of the continent on the table. “If he departed a month ago and maintained a steady pace throughout, it should take about twenty days to reach The Overlord’s domain and likewise on the trip back. At the rate of our current march, we’ll reach the Nox capital—Caligos Imperium—in about four days. That means…”
“…We’ll arrive almost exactly when the Grand General does,” Surasha whispers.
“Correct, and that precise moment will be the most opportune one. The last thing The Grand General will expect upon his return is to be sieged. Panic, confusion, disorder…he will be at his most vulnerable.”
“Heheh, I can’t wait to see the surprised face o’ that bastard.” Dismas says. “Ah, but sadly that brings us to the next subject.”
He rests his hands on the table and heaves out a loud sigh. “Libevich has returned from Xeros’s eastern front. She’s at the capital right now.”
Every single person in the room, except The Knight, shivers from the mention of her name. Sarathiel is noticeably shaken; Surasha shrinks down in her seat; Cain recoils and splashes his drink over himself; Abel covers his face; Simon mutters a curse; Ascalon hangs his head; and even the normally-aloof Joshua grimaces. Is she truly such a terrifying being? The Knight is quite curious.
“May Cosmos grant us strength…” Ascalon prays. “If that’s true, then this invasion shall become much more difficult. Ah, damned the Stars…I truly hoped that it wouldn’t have come to this.”
“What exactly is Libevich for everyone to be so wary?” The Knight asks.
“She’s a freak,” Surasha spouts. “Completely, utterly, and wholly terrifying. She’s the only that you’ve never been able to truly defeat—only repel—and if she’s there, then Ascalon’s the only one who can probably endure her assault.”
“But endure is all I’ll be able to do,” he sighs. “I have neither the strength or speed to inflict any meaningful injuries upon her, and even if I did, it wouldn’t change a thing. Besides, I’m needed to counter Xeros’s power, so…we’re in quite the predicament.”
“Damnit, how many captains would we need just to hold her back?” Cain says. “Three? Four? Our main force would be crippled either way.”
“Perhaps I should be assigned to her then?” The Knight says. “I was the one that dealt with her in the past, after all.”
“But that means you would have the burden of both serving as our strategist and dealing with that thing,” Ascalon whispers.”
The Knight smiles and wraps its hand around his. “Remember what Surasha said? Trust, Ascalon. Trust in me, I’ll be fine.”
“…Ok. I trust you.”
“Good. Is there anything else we should know about Dismas?”
“Just some minor stuff ‘bout their guard rotations and the city’s layout, but I’ll let you know later. Go screw off with Ascalon somewhere before I get sick looking at his puppy-dog eyes.”
Ascalon laughs it off, although there’s a slight red blush spreading across his cheeks, and rises up from his seat. “Well, the night is still long. Drink and be merry; you all deserve it after our victory today. Rest for now, and in the morrow we shall set march to end this campaign once and for all. Everyone, for Polus!”
“For Polus!” they all cheer in unison.
———
Hours have come and past, and The Knight is now left alone without Aegis’s company. The next couple of days will be quite mundane and it won’t be able to train him while surrounded by the others, so he is currently in Satanael’s care until the final siege starts. The Grand General’s demise is slowly approaching, and soon, one of Cosmos’s six wills shall be usurped by Aegis.
But afterwards…it doesn’t know what to do. There will be five others left to collect—including Ascalon’s—and it dreads the day it must betray his love, but this is its curse. Six must become one, and only then will its duty be complete. Only then will Aegis finally gain the strength he needs.
This happiness is ethereal, so it may as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. Each captain and Throne is given a separate moving transport to reside in, so just who could it be at this hour?
Ah, but it already knows full well who it is. His aura is indistinguishable.
“Lorelai, is it ok if I come in?” The voice asks.
The Knight opens the door and comes face to face with a more delicately adorned Ascalon. His snowy hair is out on full display glowing ever so softly amidst the light of the candle-lit room, and his body is robed in a long, silver nightgown. The silk drapes loosely from his shoulders to the ankles, cascading down his slender frame and leaving a small part of his neck to be touched by the cool chill of the twilight’s breeze.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed so casually,” The Knight says with a smile, guiding him towards the foot of the bed.
“I tend not to. My appearance is a bit more…delicate, and the others like to tease me about it so I usually cover myself with Armor when I’m not alone.”
“That’s a shame. Your armored appearance is quite dashing, but I like this side of you as well.”
The Knight gingerly caresses the nape of his neck. He jumps a little bit from the touch, but he doesn’t back away.
“U-Um, I just…wanted to show you my natural self, I suppose. I’m a bit tired after making sure the others don’t drink themselves to death, so I…I wanted to relax a bit. To be by your side.”
“Hehe, then I should do my best to make you comfortable.” It lays him down and sets his head on its lap. “How’s this?”
“…It’s nice,” he murmurs. The Knight’s beloved quite liked it when it always did this, so it assumes Ascalon is the same.
The two stay silent for a bit. No words, no rustle of movement, just peace and quiet while they enjoy each other’s company.
“Lorelai,” he whispers, breaking the silence. “I love you. From now, and for eternity, I wish to spend my every waking moment with you. In your arms. In your embrace.”
Those words are so, so sweet.
“I love you too, Ascalon.”
He turns around and faces it, eyes sparkling with such wondrous luster, gets down on the ground with one knee. “It’s tradition for the Ruler of Polus to perform a rite when one confesses their love, and I can think of no other way to express the depth of my feelings in this moment.”
He takes The Knight’s hand and leans in close, placing a soft kiss upon the ring finger. “I, Ascalon, twenty-eight Ruler of Polus, confess my undying devotion and love. I promise, in Cosmos’s name and the boundless sky above, to cherish the bond we share and to forever protect its sanctimony. Lorelai Dawnheart of The Thrones, do you accept my plea and promise to share in our matrimony together as King and Queen of Polus?”
“…I do.”
In an instant, Ascalon rushes into its arms and buries his head deep into its chest.
“Is it ok if I stay the night?” he whispers.
“Of course. Always.”
And with those final worlds, they share a gentle kiss. The night is long, but they spend every moment of it together. United as one.