Sunlight scattered through panes of colored glass fit together in a massive window frame to form the likeness of a majestic, red bear. A host of knights clad in formal uniforms along with men and women dressed in suits and gowns filled the hall in front of a stage. Whispers surged throughout the crowd, suspicious, anxious, intrigued. And still there were some, namely the soldiers, who glowed with pride.

A man with ashy brown hair stood atop the raised platform in front of them all. He held his hands behind his back and his heels together in a stiff posture. Blinking, he took a few moments to glance around. Where am I? Memories began to flood back to him: his life, the sight of a woman’s death, a giant tree, a strange man with no eyes, and, along with them, events and people he did not recognize at first. As it all settled in, he oddly came to grasp the situation.

I’m… waiting for Cleo’s title ceremony. He startled himself with the realization, for he had not the faintest idea of how he knew this or who this “Cleo” was.

Just then, the gathering hushed and turned their attention to the door at the other end of the room. It was not particularly ornate, however, it was towering like the stained glass window that stood at the back of the stage. The first to enter was an elderly man, prim and poised; the small sea of people parted to allow him passage. He scaled the few steps to the podium, setting down a few papers. Giving the ash-haired knight that stood not too far away on the same raised floor a respectful nod, the officiant cleared his throat.

“Thank you all for gathering here today to witness the heir of the Calidursa family receive the title of Head of House Calidursa,” he began. Holding out his hand in the direction of the entrance, he went on to announce, “I now present to you all Knight Commander Cleo Calidursa!”

Two guards grasped the ring handles of the doors, pulling them open. In walked a woman, one that was all too familiar, dressed in a highly decorated knight’s uniform. She lifted her head to reveal a frosty, determined expression. Elliot flinched, and everything came to him all at once. This was a story, and he had been cast as a character along with the woman who brought him here.

Applause shook him from his thoughts as Cleo took her place in front of the podium. She took a knee and lowered her head. The officiant began a brief speech that Elliot struggled to focus on. He grasped bits and pieces of it, only really hearing the last part as it ended.

“Now that the long lost child of the late Duke Calidursa has been found, we can rejoice in knowing we have someone so capable of leading the people of the Calidursa territory. Knight Commander Cleo has proven herself on the battlefield and as a shining leader in a time of great strife for our kingdom. Her accomplishments are numerous, along with those of her order.” The man stepped out from behind the podium to stand in front of Cleo. “By the power invested in me by His Majesty the King of Era, I proclaim Cleo Calidursa as the rightful Head of House Calidursa. Rise now, Duchess Calidursa!”

The crowd roared with cheers as Cleo stood to face them in all her brilliance. The light streaming through the colored glass panes from the lowering sun haloed her ember hair. She embodied all the majesty of the scarlet sunset and the strength of a blazing inferno. Breathtaking…

Cleo held her hand to silence the applause before making an announcement. “Esteemed nobles of Era, knights of the Pearl Order, and loyal vassals and citizens of Calidursa, I humble myself before you today,” she spoke in unshaken confidence. “I vow not only to lead to the best of my ability but also to serve. I may now hold the title of Duchess, however, my loyalty remains with those who served alongside me, those who I will now serve alongside, and those who I will soon serve. I have seen how important it is to put others above yourself, and I intend to uphold this sentiment for as long as I am able, through war and through peace, through illness and through prosperity. This is my solemn vow.” Her lips pressed together as her wintery eyes gleamed with radiant resolve; however, only Elliot noticed them falter slightly. She nervously fidgeted with her fingers behind her back away from the gazes trained on her by the cheering audience.

For the first time since she had entered the room, Cleo looked at Elliot. She gestured for him to come closer to stand next to her. He adjusted his silver, yellow, and white uniform slightly and quickly took his place at the front of the stage. I wonder what this is about. I didn’t think I was supposed to do anything in the ceremony, he contemplated.

“Now, we have one more item on the agenda before the banquet,” Cleo spoke, giving him a quick, almost reassuring glance. The crowd seemed to share Elliot’s confusion as they murmured softly among themselves. “Seeing as how the order in the Dukedom of Calidursa has been in some disrepair following the passing of the late duke, I feel it necessary to start anew.”

She glowed with pride as she exclaimed, “I will be establishing a new knightly order in Calidursa: the Ruby Order!” Cleo turned to Elliot who finally understood what was happening. He unsheathed his sword and swiftly kneeled, head held down and tip of his blade planted into the stone beneath their feet. Cleo drew her own and held it over his right shoulder. “Do you, Sir Elliot, take up the mantle of a knight of the Ruby Order of House Calidursa and solemnly swear to uphold your loyalty and pledge your life to this house and this order, understanding that breaking such an oath could cost you everything?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “I do.”

“Then I now dub thee Commander Elliot of the Ruby Order.” She moved the end of her sword from where is sat to the other shoulder before sheathing it and holding out a hand to help him up. Elliot took it in stride, standing to his feet. As Cleo held his wrist high in the air for all to see, the audience, especially their fellow knights, roared with applause.

A wave of dignity washed over the two of them as they regained a sense of fierce honor.

The banquet was far from grand, and merely a fraction of the visitors remained to participate. Those who had a positive view of Calidursa were few and far between. Rarely had the former heads of the house been willing to offer assistance to their fellow nobility, keeping primarily to themselves. The only reason they maintained any power or authority was due to their existence as a dukedom. Their land had been chipped away at by more respected houses, slowly but steadily, with nothing to stop them.

What was shocking was Cleo’s appointment as the heir; the radical decision was made by the other dukes and duchesses to allow Cleo, who was believed to be the legitimate child of the late Duke Calidursa, to claim the title. The decision was particularly controversial due to her status as a commoner up until that point. With the power vacuum left by the death of Duke Calidursa, someone needed to fill it, and Cleo happened to be the most convenient option.

Despite her origins as a peasant, she rose the ranks in knighthood until she reached the royal order of knights, the Pearl Order. No one would dare question her dedication and leadership, and many nobles were curious to see how she would fare managing a noble house. While a few considered actively attempting to make alliances with the new Calidursa, most were content watching from the sidelines.

The table was full of food and cheerful chatter. Knights recounted their tales of heroism while aristocrats listened in interest and, in many cases, horror. Some discussed politics and local infrastructure in their usual innocent tone, inserting hidden jabs at other houses as they did so. Such a diverse collection of guests was unprecedented, but Cleo would never choose to leave out those loyal to her on such a momentous occasion.

And, in the middle of it all, Elliot sat with his head in the clouds. The sensation of having lived two lives was uncomfortable and bewildering; he clearly remembered his childhood and who he was before he met Cleo, but at the same time he now clearly remembered another childhood and life as a knight alongside her. It was not a case of one feeling more real than the other; they were both his, being unmistakable, irrefutable, in his mind.

Elliot spent much of the banquet in a daze, staring into his plate as we slowly ate what had been served. It took him several seconds before he heard a faint voice. “...iot. Elliot? Elliot!” He jolted and looked at the person who had called his name repeatedly. Across from Elliot was seated a man with sandy blonde hair and a scar on the left side his face that stretched from the bridge of his nose to the other side of his cheek, traveling just below his coffee eye. The man spoke again, “Elliot, you’ve been spacing out since the ceremony.”

His name instantly came to remembrance. “Sorry, Elex. I’ve had a lot on my mind.” He was telling the truth for both “Elliot Yonderpass” and “Sir Elliot.”

“I’d imagine. I never expected Cleo to make a whole new order! Of course, you were the obvious choice for who to make in charge of it, what with your being her right hand and all. It was only natural.” He leaned back in his chair lazily with a stretch and scratched his head. With an additional yawn, he went on to ask, “What will you do now, ‘Commander Elliot’?”

“What do you mean?” Elliot tilted his head awkwardly.

“Well, you’re the new commander of a knight order; aren’t you going to start organizing it? Finding people to join?” Elex leaned towards the table again, putting an elbow on the surface and his other hand on his opposite hip.

Ah, I see what this is. Elliot chuckled and shook his head with a faint grin. He wants me to convince Cleo to ask him to join and give him a high rank. His eyes drifted to his left to see the empty seat at the end of the table. He paused before peering back to Elex. “Did you see where Cleo went?” Elliot inquired.

Elex looked to his right and replied, “Oh, I hadn’t even noticed she’d disappeared. Although, if I had to guess, I’d say she probably left to get away from all of these stuffy nobles.” He pointed his thumb back and over his shoulder to the other end of the room.

Elliot felt himself get up and begin to leave the quaint banquet hall before he knew it. From behind him, he could faintly hear Elex say to their fellow knights, “And there he goes… Why am I not surprised?” They laughed and carried on with their tomfoolery.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The door opened nearly noiselessly as Elliot managed to slip away from the festivities. Uncharacteristically of an estate, the hallways were silent and empty. Outside the tall windows, embedded only into the left side, was moonlight now pouring across a range of mountains and, just beyond that, a town where the majority of the people of Calidursa resided. Elliot gazed upon it as his steps guided him to the end of the somewhat bleak stone corridor; he had a faint feeling of being welcome almost as if he finally made it home. He stole one last glance as he slid through the next exit.

Into the foyer he strode, past the central stairs and across to another hall that led to a modest ballroom. Elliot stopped the moment he entered; the sound of wind pricked his ears. It led his attention to a balcony on the second floor that sat wide open. He located the stairs and swiftly scaled them. Bright amber came into view as he crept along the banister and subsequent balustrade.

“Elliot…” Cleo spoke without turning towards him, only leaning onto the railing to look out over the mountains.

“I figured I’d find you here,” Elliot said as he came to stand next to her. He positioned himself to leisurely rest his back and elbows against the rail behind him so he could see Cleo’s face.

Briefly making eye contact, she wore a vague smile as she argued, “That’s a lie. I’m sure you just walked in a straight line until you happened to find me. You would have spent the whole night looking if you hadn’t, I’m sure.” She let a light chuckle slip out in her amusement.

Elliot tilted his head towards her. “So, did you just happen to choose this balcony, which is easily seen from the ballroom entrance that just so happens to be in a straight line from the banquet hall? And you just so happened to leave the door open on a windy night?”

Cleo’s expression remained unchanged, and she said nothing. The chilly breeze slipped through their hair, tousling it. Elliot finally got a better look at Cleo now that they were alone. Silence filled the air as he noticed her hair was much neater than when they had first met by chance in the tavern. Compared to then, when it was a wavy mess that fell to her shoulders, it was much neater and even seemed to be a more saturated hue. It also spilled down in loose curls just below her shoulder blades. She had taken it down from its tight braid that had wrapped around her head for the ceremony.

It was clear they had both arrived at this balcony to hide away from everything. Or perhaps it was something specific. Elliot knew what he was hiding from–a banquet full of people he didn’t know up until that evening–but Cleo was unreadable. What is she hiding from? He wondered.

The wind calmed for a moment, and the woman, still clad in her white knight’s uniform decorated in yellow and silver accents and a plethora of jingling medals, pulled her hair over her shoulder and held it to stop it from flailing about any longer.

Suddenly, a glowing orange rectangle appeared in front of her, terribly startling Elliot. His feet nearly tripped beneath him as he took a hurried step away. When he tilted his head, he could see that it had no thickness; it was thinner than a sheet of paper, thinner than anything. What in the world is that? Is that even real? Am I imagining things?

Cleo seemed to be touching it and making the graphics, presumably writing, shift, move around, appear, and disappear on the plane. It took her a few moments to take notice of her companion’s shock and confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her brows furrowed and her nose scrunched in displeasure.

“Are you going to tell me what that thing is?” Elliot pointed at the panel in exasperation.

Cleo did not appear to understand, tipping her head to the side. “You mean this? Didn’t I already tell you what this is?”

“No!” Elliot snapped, utterly flabbergasted.

Cleo blinked. “Sorry. I forgot.” Her expression was blank.

Shoulders becoming less tense, Elliot let out his breath. He learned something that day, and pieces started to fit together. Cleo seemed to forget things quite often. She did not recall her name, things she had and had not done with Elliot, and always seemed to have this empty, hollow look to her pale eyes, as if something was missing. But she had no memory of what it was. Almost as if it were water, it merely slipped through her fingers as she tried to grasp it. Or perhaps all of the buckets were simply too full to be used.

Once he had calmed, he tiptoed to stand next to her once again, facing the display this time.

“This will be your best friend, trust me,” Cleo explained in a manner completely unfazed by his outburst.

“What exactly is it?” Elliot asked curiously.

“Well, since you wouldn’t understand advanced technology, you can just think of it as a form of ‘magic’ so to speak.”

“Advanced technology? What’s technology?”

Cleo turned to him with an awkward smile and eyes flicking about uncomfortably. “It’s like- You know when-? So, in the future, at least in the perspective of the time you came from, people have managed to make things that are able to accomplish what humans cannot, such as this,” she attempted to describe, gesturing at the glowing, orange rectangle.

On it he could read words that seemed to be logging the day. It read, “My name is now Cleo Calidursa, a knight commander made into a duchess of a household that was falling apart.” It went on to describe the ceremony, the banquet, and important details about the history of them–them being Cleo and Elliot. Within the story, at least.

“Where did those words come from?” Elliot inquired.

“Well, from me, in a sense.” Cleo said, “I did not physically write them, but you have the ability to connect to the panel and it will document what you want it to. It’s much more convenient than a keyboard in my opinion.”

He took notice of the word “you.” “Are you saying I can use this, too?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a blink. “You should have your own screen. You just need to open it.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You just sort of–” she closed her hands and then flicked her all of her fingers outward– “will it into being.”

Skeptically, Elliot attempted it, and, sure enough, a similar display appeared. While it was not the same blindingly orange color, it still glowed somewhat. The tone was instead a shadowy gray with a warm tint to it. In perfect white lettering, it stated, “Welcome, Anomaly 3.” Along each side was a column of white squares with some sort of symbols in them; along the bottom between the columns was an empty rectangle.

Shoulder to shoulder was how the two out of place near strangers spent the next hour or so. Cleo explained all of the functions of the screen, which she simply referred to as a Panel, from writing notes to keeping track of days, events, and lives to even sending messages between Panels. She assured Elliot that no one could see the glowing rectangles aside from the two of them, so there was no need to worry over a story character discovering them.

As they stayed so close on that isolated balcony overlooking the vast mountain range, they were almost uncomfortably comfortable. Logically, the two had only met mere days ago and were forced together by chance, or perhaps fate, and yet it felt as though they had been each other’s closest confidant for a lifetime. Which was not entirely inaccurate; echoes in their new memories told them of the years they had spent together, training, fighting, winning wars. It came as instinct, it overruled logic, and it came naturally.

A specific recollection came to mind, one in which the wind was cold and the night was harsh. The battlefields were cruel to soldiers when winter neared, and so they had to sleep by the body heat of their fellow knights as they laid side by side. Cleo and Elliot were no exception. Although, they had been closer than most; growing up together and earning through positions through blood, sweat, and tears, they could not be separated. Thus, through the inherent adoption of these experiences as their own, it became easier to be uncomfortably comfortable than to be completely detached.

“This is the character and story information page,” Cleo explained, pointing at the screen. “You can see your name, aliases, and titles along with important information.”

She tapped on Elliot’s Panel to show him how to locate what he needed to know. The writing stated:

“Genre: Fantasy Romance

Role: Second Male Lead

Full known name: Elliot

Title(s): Commander (Ruby Order)

Status: Knight of Calidursa, Commoner”

There were other details listed along with a place that appeared to allow them to view key memories as well as a summary of their “character’s” life. Cleo’s face contorted in disgust, however, as she read the list.

“He did not just–” She took a sharp inhale and let out an irritated sigh. “He had the gall to put us in a Fantasy Romance?!” Flipping quickly to her own information page, she scoffed once again.

Elliot glanced over and read “Role: Female Lead.” He did not quite grasp what had peeved her so much about this, but he put his hand on her shoulder out of pity regardless. As if taking it as a sign to proceed, Cleo went on a tirade about various topics, such as genre tropes, her distaste for romance, and how the Scriptist is going to get a fist to the face the next time they meet, of which Elliot could only pick out certain bits and pieces to understand. Patting her on the back and silently nodding in some sort of vague agreement was all he could really do in that situation.

It took quite a while before the raging red-haired knight had calmed herself down, taking deep breaths once she had finished her long, long list of complaints.

“Elliot, I want you to promise me something,” she finally said after a period of stillness.

The brown-haired knight suddenly felt the seriousness in her tone. “What is it?”

Cleo looked at him with those awfully chilling eyes, the ones that seemed to have lost all shine to wear and time, as she said, “Promise me you won’t lose yourself. You are not Sir Elliot; you are not this character; you are not from this world. The sooner you separate yourself from these new memories, the better you will be able to retain yourself. You are playing a role in an elaborate play, and that needs to be maintained within your mind no matter what. Do not let yourself forget your first and only true life; that is who you truly are.”

She paused for but a moment to let her words settle in before she asked, “Do you understand?”