The 50 or so high-ranking members of the military invited to attend the Conference along with their personal guards as well as the Frei Squad made two lines on either side of the door as it opened. Joakim readily moved alongside the rest of his colleagues, standing still and looking past the heads of the soldiers on the line across from him. Though due to being the second-shortest person there, he was really looking above their shoulders.
A soldier in white head-to-toe armor, decorated with golden stripes running down the side of the suit’s arms and across the helmet and breastplate strolled in. Another soldier followed her closely behind, wearing a similar all-grey uniform as the others. Hands flew up in salute as the two soldiers walked down to the end of the aisle near the podium at the back of the hall.
It’s the General herself, Sindri mused quietly as she and her adjutant walked past him.
General Karesti retracted her helmet, followed by Lieutenant Colonel Antelius as they turned around to face their colleagues. Upon seeing Rhona’s face, the soldiers as well as everyone else kneeled on one knee.
“Rise,” she ordered everyone with a smile. “I have only come here in the capacity of General, not as a representative of the Royal Family. Thank you all for you gracious welcome, I will speak to you later on tonight.”
“That’s the man who killed my mother.” Joakim whispered as he headed for the kitchen to return empty trays stacked on a table, the lines and crowds dispersing and returning to their seats.
“Lieutenant Colonel Antelius?” Lucia who had decided to join him asked in a similar tone.
“Yes.” he answered softly.
“You’re not going to try and… kill him here, are you?” she asked curiously.
“No,” he answered. “Now isn’t the time for revenge. I’m not even sure if I’m strong enough to. Also, don’t tell anyone I—
As Joakim was distracted by his conversation, he hadn’t noticed his face was about to collide straight with the chest of a well-dressed Titanian noble.
“S-S-Sir,” Lucia stuttered as she made eye contact with the man first. “P-Please, forgive my comrade. I took his attention away from the path ahead of him. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“All is well, young lady,” the noble beamed at her before offering a hand to Joakim. “Are you alright, lad?”
“I’m… I’m okay,” Joakim admitted without showing fear, getting up to his feet with the noble’s help. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been careful.”
“No worries at all.” the noble said, brushing off his shirt with his hands, keeping his smile as he continued heading for the podium.
That boy… he looked strangely familiar, Egon wondered as a handful of journalists adjusted their kameras to record him properly after a few minutes.
He cleared his throat before speaking.
“I, Baron Egon Linden of Shargara, have the honour of hosting and opening the Shargara Conference on this lovely New Years’ evening, courtesy of the kind General and our mighty military,” he began his speech—more likely than not the last one of his life. He would either be a fugitive afterwards, or dead.
“The occasion we have gathered for reminds me much of my own family, which is why I immediately took the offer when presented to me by the people of General Karesti,”
A lie, he thought. But they’ve lied to my family for generations.
“Many, many generations ago, my ancestor Iomhar Linden was only one of thousands of soldiers who fought for His Highness Bence Karesti in the Siege of Gez. Yet, with his unparalleled benevolence, Emperor Bence rewarded Baron Iomhar’s efforts of defending our righteous cause, of being on the right side of history by gifting him what we now call Shargara. Our family has always kept Emperor Bence’s kindness in our memory. Even during the brief, tumultuous periods where the Solich usurpers grabbed the throne from its rulers, we persevered and took care of our land. Even today, we are the only family whose lands gifted by him remain in our possession on Terra. We’ve seen the benefits it gives us. We know how much more it can help our Empire…”
As Maedoc sat next to Rhona, he could feel the Reserve emitting from her. What emotion was she feeling that someone next to her could sense her Reserve? Just how powerful was it?”
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“Is something the matter, General?” he whispered.
“The air doesn’t feel right. And I know it’s not because I’m not used to Terra.” she whispered back.
“What do you suggest we do, Ma’am? The Baron’s almost done giving his address.”
“We wait.” she said stoically.
“And now, without further ado, I now…” Egon said, trailing off for several moments. Once he said it, it was done. He would become an enemy of the state, breaking a centuries-old relationship of trust between two families. But it had been needed to be said that entire time. For his father Makari and his mother Shura. For his many-greats grandfather Iomhar who had been manipulated by Emperor Bence, and all the Linden’s who came between them. For himself, and his southern and northern brethren.
“…declare war, on behalf of the Black Shield and the people of Terra!”
--
The boy, barely eight years old, stood silently at the edge of his parent’s bed, watching them take very laboured breaths. Their skin, once as smooth as the most flawless marble, had become dry like sand and filled with cracks all over to the point that their faces had become nearly unrecognisable.
“I regret… nothing, my son…” Shura Linden croaked as she lay beside her comatose husband, already far beyond saving. “This… is what we agreed to. To not live behind visors… your father had always done so. And when I came to Terra as his bride… it was something I accepted as well…”
“Mother…” young Egon sniffled, gripping his mother’s weak arm with both his hands. “You’ll be okay. They’ll be okay, right doctor?”
The man standing behind the boy could do nothing but avert his gaze. He didn’t have the heart to lecture him on Titanian biology in front of his dying parents.
“The consequences we face are not for nothing,” she told her son, her eyes fluttering. “We knew what could’ve happened… we did it anyway. We didn’t want to be… overlords with intimidating visages. And… it is my hope that you will not be one either. Go to Paridi. She will teach you everything you need to know. She will take care of you from now on… and one day, you shall take care of her and her people. Promise me that, Egon.”
“I- I promise, Mother.”
She ceased fighting against the weight on her eyelids, so she stopped. They shut forever.
“Mother?” he asked, denying the verity of the situation. However, with the advanced intelligence of his kind, he quickly understood what happened. He did not try fighting the reality, but his heart was still heavy.
“I told them over and over again, young Egon,” the doctor said, leading the boy out of his parent’s room and to the hallway outside. “Their bodies aren’t meant to withstand the peak summer heat of this world year after year after year, but they continued insisting on working in their fields without their armor. Such a painful death was guaranteed. Your father was only slightly accustomed to it growing up here, but it still caught up to him. Your mother knew the risks, but she detested wearing the armor too. I… really tried saving them, lad. Please, forgive me. I urge that you do not go down their path.”
“Armor is for soldiers,” Egon replied bluntly. “Mother and Father aren’t soldiers. They’re just normal people.”
From then on, Egon would be named Baron Linden of Shargara. Paridi, a young but one of few educated southerner women who had worked for the noble family since her teens, taught him how to watch over the fields and tutored him in many topics, one of the most important being how to report the taxes from his harvests—his only real, official duty as a noble in little more than name.
Months after his parents’ deaths, he had established a routine of having lessons with Paridi, followed by watching over the employees hired by his parents to partake in the planting and harvesting of their fields. But even more than just watching, he had been learning and getting along with them following his foster mother and teacher’s advice. As night fell, he would sometimes watch soldiers training on a paved court behind the house—a small area on the Linden property rented by the military. It was something reluctantly arranged by the Baron and Baroness when they realised that they did not have much time left in order to provide supplemental income for their son. He never understood what these men and women were fighting for, or why.
On one late afternoon, Paridi had decided to finish his lessons earlier than usual, as it was clear that she was emotionally unwell. Egon spent the rest of the daylight peering over the balcony railing, watching soldiers go at each other, showing off their peak hand-to-hand combat skills.
“It looks cool to ya too, don’t it?” a young voice asked as its owner joined Egon in spectating.
“Huh? Who are you?” Egon asked, having never seen the southerner before.
“I’ll be staying here from now on,” the boy, who looked about a year older than him but only came up to his shoulder said. “That fighting is darn impressive. That’s all I’m interested in.”
“Um, I’m Egon.” the Titanian noble introduced himself humbly.
“I already know that,” the southerner boy chuckled. “Hey, what makes ya so intrigued by the training?”
“What makes me intrigued? Well…”
Egon couldn’t finish his sentence, as another presence made itself known on the balcony.
“Jay, I thought I told ya not to stick your head up above the balcony railing while soldiers are training!” Paridi lunged forward grabbing the boy’s ear, making the boy squeal in discomfort.
“I ain’t alone, can’t ya see, Ma?” Jay nearly screamed, which prompted Paridi to let of it. Paridi sighed before facing Egon, her eyes red as if she’d been bawling them out recently. “I’m safe!”
“My apologies, Master Egon. This here’s my son, Jay. He’ll be living here with us from now on. His father…”
Paridi trailed off as Egon began to notice her hand shake, scrunching up her nose as if to avoid crying. Jay stood in front of her and took her hands.
“It’s alright, Ma. Master Egon, we best start getting to know each other. There’ll be tough days ahead. Or, that’s what Ma says, at least.” he laughed softly.
Egon approached Paridi and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Jay can stay on the balcony as long as I’m with him,” Egon said in a comforting tone. “Don’t worry about him, Paridi.”