Cloth swayed carelessly above the wooden floors. Not a sound, not a peep, not a single recognizable noise resounded in the desolate rooms and corridors. The deliberate, light steps of a master sword wielder blended with the fluid movements of a dancer. She traversed the long halls with their rugs that stretched the length of them and the tall windows that divided the walkway into pieces. A set of heels hung from the tips of her fingers, bare feet traveling along the thin strands of carpet beneath them.
She twirled, she dipped, she spun, and she paused. Her attention immediately stopped on a door opened a crack. Eyes narrowing, she approached and knocked on the wood framing it. “I can see you, Sir Elex,” she said dryly.
“Oh, come on! You’re no fun!” A head of sandy blonde peeked out. “You know, you’d make for a pretty good dancer if you only bothered to smile a little.”
Cleo glared at him and he chuckled. She replied, “And you’d make for a better spy if you kept your mouth shut.”
“You wound me, my lady.”
She huffed, asking, “What are you still doing here? I thought you were leaving today.”
“Well, I couldn’t just leave my two favorite knights—well, knight and duchess—without saying my farewells.” He had stepped out into the hallway at that point, giving a dramatic bow.
Cleo’s immediate instinct was to kick him in the shins, and thus, she did. His legs crumpled, sending him falling to the ground. He whined in artificial theatrics as he held his legs against his chest before Cleo harped, “Get up. We’re going to see Commander Elliot so you can get out of my home as soon as possible.”
Elexendire pouted for a moment until a single unimpressed look from his former knight commander sent him sprawled out laughing on the carpet. Cleo rolled her eyes, turned away, and began to walk, expertly hiding the amused upturn of her lips.
Scurrying to catch up, Elex asked, “How did you know it was me, anyway?”
“Behind the door? There are a grand total of five people currently in this house now that Duke Wicke has left: myself, Elliot, the head maid, the cook, and you,” she explained. “Mysthea is likely cleaning, but she never closes the door when she does from what I’ve seen. The cook would have no reason to be in a random room in the guest hall. And that leaves Elliot, who has his own room at the end of the East Wing right by the training grounds, and he has the sensibility to not be… half-witted.” They strolled along carelessly, Cleo still barefooted and Elex stepping leisurely.
“You still won’t pull any punches? Not even when you’re a duchess?”
“You wish.”
Dirty, desaturated brown hair flitted in the wind, obscuring the sight of a certain knight as he desperately attempted to polish a pathetically rusted sword.
He sat with his legs crossed beneath an overhang along the edge of the paved courtyard. The sun shot its rays after each opening between rolling clouds with the precision of an archer; it succeeded in making the day blistering wherever its arrows could land.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. The rust would not let go of the metal. Elliot, in frustration, tossed it to the side where it spun and slid on stone.
“Woah there!”
He looked up to the familiar face of Elex, hands held in the air in surprise at the weapon that nearly hit his ankles. Cleo popped her head out of the doorway not long after, stepping out and scooping up the sword in one fell swoop.
Elex turned at her and shouted, “You made me walk out first on purpose, didn’t you?!”
“Yes. And?” She swiftly slipped past him. Blade in one hand, she held out the other to help Elliot up. He took it in stride while Elexendire remained rooted in place, dumbfounded. Cleo had successfully made it a habit to avoid her best knight when he was trying to repair equipment alone; he tended to get easily foiled and vexed.
Elliot brushed his hair out of his face and peered at his friends. “What brings you both out here?”
“‘Her Grace’ wants me to leave her place of residence as soon as possible.” Elex replied mockingly, crossing his arms.
“Don’t you dare use my new title like that or I’ll start calling you by your full name everytime I see you, ‘Sir Elexendire Moordenhook’” Her Grace threatened.
Sir Moordenhook was atrociously appalled by the idea and made no effort to hide his overwhelming disdain. Cleo’s straight face nearly broke into grin and a laugh—nearly. Elliot, however, in his exhaustion from the monotony of his work, did not particularly find this situation amusing. His former knight companion noticed this almost immediately and snuck off.
Elex gave his goodbyes to Elliot while Cleo disappeared to a nearby storage room. “I’m going to miss you, pal,” he said. “Don’t forget to invite me to the Ruby Order once everything is settled, alright? I wouldn’t hesitate to leave the royal knights if it’s for either of you.”
“That almost sounds like deserting,” Elliot remarked, giving him a firm handshake.
The blonde knight responded by reaching behind his friend’s head and pulling him forward to touch foreheads. “Take good care of each other while I’m gone.” He spoke quietly and meaningfully. It was a short moment of seriousness amidst his incessant jokes.
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Elliot nodded and smiled, feeling bittersweet. When they separated, he gave Elex a pat on the shoulder before ruffling his hair. Cleo seemed to materialize, tossing a piece of wood at Elliot with little warning. He fumbled for a moment but quickly grabbed hold of it.
“Care for a little spar? We have things to talk about, and I haven’t had the chance to train since we got here,” the duchess asked. Although, it really was not a question, she was telling him to hold the training sword and fight.
Sir Elexendire’s eyes sparkled, and he trotted off to the side to watch the duel intently.
Elliot sighed, shaking his head in defeat. With a smile, he brushed his hair out the way. She’s going to beat me while wearing a dress, he thought. But I won’t let her win that easily.
They took their stances on the cobbled stones of the courtyard floor as the brown-haired knight hollered, “Elex, would you mind hanging up the targets from the storage room over there on the posts?”
Elex looked confused, looking at Cleo for reassurance. She simply shrugged, so he hesitantly hurried over to the shed as to not miss any of the match.
Not moments later, wood hit wood as Commander Elliot and Duchess Calidursa rushed at each other with their weapons. They clashed once, twice, thrice before Elliot asked, “So, what did you want to discuss? Do you have a plan for how to move forward?”
Cleo lunged forward and her opponent dodged and blocked her sword. “I do have a plan, actually. I’ve been working on it since we got here.” She twisted her oak blade up only to be halted again. “First, we have to find and gain allies. Then, we need to tour the territory. Mysthea can take care of the manor for another week or two.”
Elliot pushed back her sword and attempted to hit her side to no avail. “I assume we will be focused almost entirely on the town at the base of the mountains.”
“Most certainly, although, we shouldn’t discount the outskirt villages, especially considering they’re on the borders.”
“Can’t have border towns betraying us to encroaching invaders or enemies.” He slid to the side to make another attack only to be hit in the shoulder.
“Precisely,” Cleo said before interjecting, “Strike one.”
Running in to slash again, Elliot’s blade was blocked, and he used the momentum to take a couple steps back. “I assume you want me to be looking for possible knights.”
“Yes… Sir Elex asked for a position, didn’t he?” She rushed forward, sword out to the side to slice at his torso.
Elliot attempted to stop her swift move only for her to swipe her wooden saber down and up again to run it vertically along his right shoulder, lifting up to push him back with her leg. He grimaced. “He did in fact ask, and I intend to give him entry, although—”
“Not now, obviously.” Cleo nodded. “Also, strike two.” Haughty mischief flitted across her eyes.
In the brief moment his opponent paused to regain her footing, Elliot lunged and smacked her upper arm. “Strike one,” he remarked with a slight smirk. “We still need someone in the royal palace who can collect information, am I right? I’m sure there are plenty of nobles who detest having you appointed as duchess.”
“Well, not all of them, it seems,” Cleo said. They went back and forth with their strikes, neither making any headway, and chatted casually the whole way.
“Oh, did something happen?”
“I talked to Duke Wicke as he left. He seems more open to me being duchess; I assume that’s why he was chosen as the dukedoms’ representative, or he may have even volunteered. Anyway, we’ll still need to work hard—”
“To build up our reputations,” Elliot interrupted. “I know.”
Cleo gave him a warning look for cutting her off as she kicked him in the ankle, but she did not correct him because he took the words right out of her mouth. Little brat, just let me finish my own sentence, would you?
He budged not even half an inch and remarked in a quieter tone, “Don’t you think it’s odd?”
“What? That we can finish each other’s sentences?” She stepped back to stop Elliot’s downward cut, both hands on either end of the training sword.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s kind of weird.” He used all his might the bare down on Cleo’s blade; it was to no avail, for she refused to budge either.
“Well, that’s what happens when you reincarnate into the body of two people who basically lived their entire lives together, and the only way they could survive was to be that in sync,” she explained softly; however, there was a hint of aching in her voice.
Elliot immediately sympathized without even realizing as he recalled the lives they had both acquired. I know how much you’d wanted to live a different life… he thought. None of this had been your fault, but if we don’t push forward even now, it will all have been for nothing.
In the short seconds that he was distracted, Cleo hurried forward with a ruthlessness of a trained killer. As she approached, she knocked the sword out of his hand. However, just as she moved to hold her own up to his throat, a disturbance of air flew past her neck. Her head whipped to look behind her only to see a dagger firmly jabbed into the edge of a target.
Turning back to Elliot, his hand still stayed limply in the air from his throw. His breath was heavy, obstructing his words. “Strike… two and three…”
“You would have lost anyway,” Cleo commented with the blunt tip of her oak, handled pole still barely an inch from his chin. “That was my strike three.”
He laughed tiredly, “But I still would have taken you down with me.”
“What happened to a fair fight?” Her weapon lowered to her side, her face softening to a near-smile. She was impressed.
“Who said anything about fair?” Elliot slumped forward to put his hands on his knees before tilting his head to look her in the eyes. “If a fight was ever really fair, no one would win, now would they?”
Clever boy… Cleo thought, letting out a light chuckle. Elex, who had been hanging up the targets around the arena during the entire duel and watching when he could, scampered up to the two of them. His arms wrapped around them both, and he swept them both into a big hug with surprising ease.
“You two are the best!” He shouted cheerily before whining, “I don’t want to leeeave!”
The amber-haired lady choked out, “Sir Elex, let go or I will remove you from my residence by force,” between gritted teeth.
He yielded, but only let go of her. Elliot was still held firmly is Elexendire’s grasp, and he gave Cleo a sunny grin that rivaled the light that stung them from above.
They laughed like two young boys while their less cheerfully inclined friend hiked up her skirt to try and shake off the dirt from her still shoeless feet. When the mocking turned to her, she responded in kind by sticking her tongue out and yelling for them to quiet. The training grounds that had been desolate for so many years was filled with ebullience. Slowly, Calidursa was gaining life once again, and its new owner—no, owners—were set to make strides to take it from a barely watered bud to a blossoming daffodil.
Sir Elexendire Moordenhook gave his final farewells to his cherished companions, and Commander Elliot and Duchess Cleo Calidursa began their preparations for a revolution that would sweep not only the mountain countryside but eventually the entire Kingdom of Era.