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Chapter 33
Simply put, for Ezabel, there was a lot to think about and even more to worry about. It felt as if she had not taken a decent breath until she had returned to her room. Fortunately, the stillness within was just right for a moment of calm. It may have been a little too much, but she had removed her uniform in favor of the clothes underneath. Some strange sense of hers had her believing that its grandeur was meant only for the outside world, and thus, not quite suitable for her personal space.
In reality, it was far more likely that she just wanted to avoid creasing it altogether. Afterall, she had spent the entire time lying on her bed. She laid the opposite way, with feet against the headboard so that the balcony was in plain sight. Through it came the beginnings of a far flung sunset whose orange light crested just above Gracewind’s skyline. It was all too impressive, really. Never once did she think that a view such as that would be available to her on a whim.
The starting line, which she had so eagerly sought out, was now beneath her feet. She needed only step over it with the same confidence that flowed so easily through her brothers. Calling on such a familial trait was not easy for her, however. It took time, focus, and a little luck. But, if and when she was able to bring it out, her being flowed like an unstoppable torrent. - This was such a time. Or, close to it.
No matter how distracting Soren’s presence was, he was exceedingly helpful in the end. Even now, as Ezabel thought back to their exchange, a small tingle walked the length of her neck. Why did everything in the Citadel have to be so effortlessly charming?
A whir came from the distance, brought through the opened balcony doors by a fine breeze. When Ezabel tilted her eyes in its direction, the cityscape began to change. Like hills, auburn roofs rolled from one end of the horizon to the next. In handfuls, beads of flickering lights flashed to life until they filled her entire view. Even the streets began to shine a brilliance and became like channels that trickled in every direction. Together, they coalesced into a fine connection of streets that broke up the evening shade with brilliant rows of lanterns.
All of it served to bring Ezabel back into a state of determination. Her slender fingers clutched a book at her side, which she had borrowed from the north library before she left. Of course, her foremost concern was the impending start of the trials and how her own performance would go. But, never once did she lose sight of her search for the One Armed Knight.
Between her fingers was another textbook. Or rather, it was an old collection of names of Attendants that had been part of the Order in recent history. Within it was a brief record for each of their notable deeds. Most were short or empty, save their names. Ezabel’s first skim of the book had told her as much. It seemed that it focused solely on listing feats that were far out of the ordinary, even for Attendants.
There was, very obviously, Gatrie Addington. He was a large figure in the Order during his time. Having only retired a short while ago, the ink that spelled his story was relatively new. According to it, his most notable deed was the defeat of the ‘Deepstone Armada’. It was a rogue navy whose ferocity oppressed the Amber Coast. It left destruction in its wake and threatened to cut off the entirety of Ardyn from the sea. Port Kaywin was the realm’s largest port; who was better fit to stop the threat than its lord?
It was a story Ezabel read many times over, though her own books had described many details differently. Namely, the manner in which Gatrie defeated the armada’s leader, Sieg Deepstone. The book in her hands had Gatrie Addington piercing Sieg’s chest with his sword and sending him to the bottom of the sea. Her childhood stories, however, told of Sieg’s escape and Gatrie’s failure to pursue. - She much preferred the latter as it left an open ending and the potential for more. But, that was all beside the point.
No where in the list of names did she find anyone with a missing limb, much less an arm. It was either inaccurate or poorly maintained. Either way, it was mildly frustrating. Not even in the heart of the Citadel could she find any answers. The One Armed Knight continued to be a shadow in the dark. An obscure existence that she could not grasp with the utmost resolve.
It was then that the muffled tones of conversation passed her door. They were obscured by her walls but went swiftly away regardless. Things were beginning to stir once more, and for good reason. ‘All candidates are to meet in the grand hall. Don’t be late and remember to fix your uniform.’ It was embarrassing to say the least. Her uniform was sloppy when she was in the library. A button or two had been wrongly fastened and her pants were not even close to being tucked all the way into her boots. They looked like a jumbled mess.
Ezabel sat upright and pressed her hands into the cushion of the bed. The uniform beside her gave an idle look which she answered with a stare of skepticism. Her second attempt at donning its grandeur should go better than the first, right? It had to. It was not just Soren who would see her this time, but the entire city of Gracewind. Everything had to be in perfect alignment.
More voices continued to pass her door and the need to start getting ready had come. Ezabel went away from the warmth of the bed and stepped her bare feet onto the cold floor. It was sharp like ice, but there was no better way for her bearings to be shocked awake than that. On her toes, she made her way to the uniform and took its entirety under her arm. She had hoped to don it in her washroom, where she could also rinse her face and manage her garb in the mirror. But, a comfortable and almost soothing chill herded her to the balcony doors instead.
The uniform came over both of her forearms now, which crossed against her stomach. On the doorframe, her waist leaned daintily. She should have felt rushed. She should have felt the urgency. But, the view opened before her, broader than she ever thought it could. The vastness of Gracewind became all the more real in that moment. Thankfully, it brought with it a sense of hope. There was no need for Ezabel to rush her pursuits or to push herself to the brink of emotional collapse. The realm was a bigger place than she could ever imagine. With time, she would find that which she sought and accomplish all that she hoped. She only needed to be patient and unmoving.
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From the realization came a delicate smile that carried her on through the washroom and the donning of her uniform. It looked at her through the mirror and curled higher when the sight of her perfect regalia was clear. There was no uncertainty, and for it, her uniform shone flawlessly. Had it not been for the absence of a cloak, Ezabel would have looked just like a model Attendant.
There were many things for her to thank at that moment, all of which she gave a quiet nod to in her own head. Her presence in the Citadel and the capital was the result of many variables that fell in the right places at the right times. They made up for her shortcomings and assured her of her own strengths. - Her bag sat below the mirror and called to her in the middle of it all. Dirt and scuffs from the road were still clear on its shell. It had come with her all the way from Alm and bore all that which she held close. Her books, her gloves, the small handful of gold, even the dagger--.
She had forgotten about it, despite it being the most intricate thing in her bag by far. The dagger that Leland had given her, she could see its silhouette underneath the loose fabric. A quick hand wormed through and pulled it into the light. The severity of age was much clearer now. The scabbard had become gray and a small crack could be seen just underneath the cords of the handle. Despite that, the piece remained a sight. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of her room and the Citadel. It was dated, imperfect, and distinctly foreign to the capital. However, it was every bit as notable. It had a unique shape and was the only one of its kind that Ezabel had ever come across.
Her better, more sensible judgment would always agree with the notion of the dagger being wholly unfit to be part of her ensemble. Yet, for some odd reason, she was entirely compelled to strap it against her belt. It was secured without another thought and hung at the back of her waist, where its handle could be easily reached. Did she think there was a need to use it? No. She merely felt right with it on.
°°
“I can’t find it anywhere, Vance.”, Ezabel curled her brow, perplexed at the empty chest at the foot of her bed. There should have been a stack of blankets and scarves in it, but they had all been thrown aside in search of her brother’s jacket. It was his favorite one and he had it for as long as he could remember, even before he had met Ezabel and Xavier.
“Oh, here it is!”, Vance shouted from across the cramped hallway. Not a second later did he poke his mop of disheveled, blonde hair through Ezabel’s door. A smile was bright on his lips. Most everyone knew him as a man who carried around little to no worries with him. And, it was precisely that very fact that Ezabel was concerned for him. This was his last day in Alm.
“Where was it?”, Ezabel tilted her head.
“Under my pillow.”, he chuckled. “I must have forgotten while I was packing.”
“You had me flip my room upside down because you forgot?”
“Thanks, sis!”, Vance smiled and immediately scurried back to gather the rest of his things.
In any other circumstance, there would have been a shouting match at the very least. Ezabel had a short temper when it came to Vance. He was wild, arrogant, and even mean at times. Yet, she could not find the effort to be mad in the slightest. In fact, it was bittersweet. This was their relationship in a nutshell. And, it was fitting that they had one more moment like this before he left for Gracewind.
Ezabel pushed her lips to the side and did her best not to allow her eyes the slightest weakness. She was not about to cry. Not for Vance. No way, no how. If anything, she should be worried about what might happen to him at the capital. Vance was cocky and full of himself. He had every reason to get into trouble with the city folk.
The Citadel would not take kindly to his attitude. Every book she had read required Attendants to be disciplined and hardworking; faithful and humble. There was no way that Vance would adhere to any of that. - Ezabel’s cringed for a second. Was he going to fail?
No. He took after Xavier in skill. And, whether she liked it or not, Vance was every bit as talented as the next candidate, if not more. He was going to do fine. He had to if they were to become Attendants together. So, she shut her eyes tight and hoped with all her might that the trials went well for him. There’s no way he’d lose!
“Hey, what’s with that ugly face?”, Vance leaned into her room once again and snickered.
“U-ugly!?”, in one motion, Ezabel grabbed a book from her nightstand and sent it soaring across her room, right into Vance’s face.
°°
“How long is it going to take for you to get to Gracewind?”, Ezabel asked with a strained voice. Vance’s bags were heavy. She had told him to travel light but his stubborn attitude simply would not listen. He needed his ‘stuff’ with him, apparently.
“Not sure, but the trials begin in two weeks, so I hope it’s less than that!”, Vance answered as he took his bags from her hands. He tossed them half heartedly into the back of the wagon that waited in front of Bastion’s bookstore.
His apparent lack of interest and nonchalant attitude always did a fine job in making Ezabel’s eye twitch. To think that he was taking the trials so easily. It was supposed to be an important time for them all. If he succeeded, he could be reunited with Xavier! Why would he not want that more?
In truth, she understood Vance enough to know that it was simply his way of being. They had made a promise to join the Order together. They had things to do and much to accomplish. There was no way that any of them would take this moment lightly.
“If you see Xavier, give him a nice old punch for me, okay?”, Ezabel giggled.
“Will do. I’ll give him three for not visiting us at all. Right in the gut!”, Vance held a fist tight in the air.
The horse at the head of the wagon snorted aloud. It was getting restless and the driver was soon to stand in his seat.
“Be safe, Vance. The capital might be overwhelming so get enough rest. And, don’t get into any fights! You might accidentally mess with the wrong person. Xavier might not be there to protect you!”
“Yeah, yeah!”, Vance waved a hand in response as he hopped onto the side of the wagon. A brown travel bag was slung over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll figure things out! Take care of things here for the time being. I better see you in the capital next year!”
A gust of wind picked up and a swirl of leaves buffeted their farewell. Ezabel raised her arms over her face. When she was safe to stop, her eyes readjusted. Vance stood atop the wagon with his chin held high. His gaze was true and deep on the road before him. - He could make it. He would make it. There was nothing left for Ezabel to do than to nod in agreement. ‘We’re almost there.’
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