FVR

Chapter Twenty-Five.

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Joel perched himself on the edge of the copper bathtub and leaned forward, watching Flona apply Sophia's Tears to Beatrice's wounds; her scrapes and bruises faded or were stitched back together bit by bit, as if time were rewinding slowly.

Joel pondered as he watched Flona apply her healing to Beatrice's burns, looking on with a newfound curiosity. "Sophia's Tears can heal mana burns?" He wondered aloud, contemplating whether the tears were more effective than his potions.

Beatrice didn't flinch at Joel asking a question from out the blue about something that should have been common knowledge. Instead, she seemed happy for him to be so relaxed around her; her eyes widened slightly and the scrunch in her lips softened.

Her disheveled appearance spoke of the battle she had been in earlier, but her stoic face felt impossible to read. Joel pondered her calmness after a moment passed with no reply - on her lack of fear in the face of death and her ability to simply carry on. He thought to his own feelings, and to the joy he felt for being alive and out of pain. Perhaps she's happy too?

Beatrice poured herself some tea into a delicate porcelain cup, her movements graceful and deliberate. She added several spoonfuls of sugar, much to Joel's surprise as he counted. One, two, three, four, five, six, excessive cubes. As she brought the cup to her lips, the rich aroma of jasmine filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, Joel missed the satisfaction of eating and drinking. His attention then fell to the burns on her hands. They looked old, despite being brand new - the result of the healing potion, Joel assumed. Her graceful movements and the natural poise with which she drank her tea spoke of her noble background; a stark contrast to the perception she had previously given of a tenacious veteran of warrior. She took another small sip of tea, then spoke clearer than Joel had ever heard her speak.

"Flona is not healing. She is soothing." Her voice was youthful, polite, and considered, yet soft - a softness that only comes from a kind and thoughtful voice. "Soothing numbs the pain one feels. It is what I did for Damon and Gareth."

"Not for me?" Joel again thought aloud. For whatever reason, he felt incredibly relaxed around her.

"Ah. No. You seemed to handle the pain well enough - as if you could see passed the present moment and to a future where the pain had ceased."

"Right..." Joel wasn't entirely convince, but he knew some truth lay exposed in her words. He couldn't find the right way to describe it, even in his mind, but he felt a sense of appreciation towards that game. He paused for a moment until the silence grew too loud. "Um... So... Why are you here?" He asked with a tepid disposition.

Beatrice placed the cup down, crossed her legs, then leaned in. "I wanted to thank you. Not only did your actions grant us the time needed for Cedric and Zach to arrive, but you rather selflessly gave up the Zenith Brew, despite your own injuries. I am in your debt."

A few things flashed through Joel's mind at the word - debt - but he figured being released wasn't on the cards. "You mean a lot to a lot of people, and I was only..." was I about to say I was only in a little pain? "I wasn't as bad as you were."

Beatrice leaned back and tilted her head slightly. "Your pragmatism is a most honorable trait given the circumstances. I thank you. As for your reward, I shall petition for you to rise to Grade Two, and receive accelerated training. We need more Unblessed like yourself within The Breach."

Joel didn't know what to say. It felt like a reward and a punishment at the same time. He stuttered as he replied, full of an emotion which he couldn't place. "Th-thank you, Co-Commander Beatrice."

"I had a second motive for coming to see you." Beatrice continued, taking no mind of Joel's flustered reply. "Aurora." She paused for a moment, and in that pause Joel's mind ran rampant. "What do you have over her? Why is she so fixated on you?"

Aurora!? The woman he hardly knew - the force of nature who seemed capable of toppling armies, what could I possibly have over her!? "I don't know," he replied honestly, his heart beating faster with each moment.

"Do not lie." Beatrice warned with an unwavering tone. "Upon your arrival in Kyrstil, word found me of your arrest. That you snuck into House Flame and made your way to the prince's landing unnoticed. Then, without struggle, gave in to capture. Since then, somehow, you have become Aurora's recruit - the one person who holds the key to the treaty with the Nerulians. If you had not saved my life, I may have considered you a spy. Or worse. A Helkin." She clicked her tongue at the mention of that last word. It seemed to hang on her lips like a foul taste, or an unspoken taboo. "Perhaps I still should?"

With bewilderment etched on his face, Joel stood up and waved his open hands, as if trying to push away the confusion that enveloped him. "I'm not a spy! I'm not! Those-those things just happened! I..." Joel tried to find the words, but all he could think about was the way the game was to blame. Fuck this game fuck this game fuck this game! He cursed inwardly, feeling more trapped than ever.

"No matter, Joel." Beatrice said with a calm tone, cutting through Joel's anxiety like a knife. "We have plenty of time ahead of us to probe at your intentions." She gestured for him to sit, and remained silent until he calmed down. "Allow me to get back to the topic at hand: Aurora. Why did she make you her recruit? Answer me that, and I will overlook your indiscretions."

Joel's heavy heart felt lighter for all but a moment. He knew now what she really wanted, but he didn't know if it would be enough. Aurora wants to escape - but what does that mean!? What happens if I betray her by telling Beatrice!? Fuck! Joel's shifty eyes looked to Flona, doubtful of her presence and whether he could trust her. Beatrice needs to know or I'm fucked - but this matron woman - what if she blabs!?

Beatrice noticed the doubt in his eyes as he looked to the healer. "Do not concern yourself with Flona," She said. "She has been in my service since birth. Forty years of service creates a level of trust befitting such conversations." She gestured for Joel to continue. "Please, enlighten me."

Fear and doubt flooded his heart as his face ran hot with anxiety. He replied quickly and without pause, stuttering his words as he spoke. "Aurora wants to leave the country - I really don't understand why she thinks I'm capable of helping - honestly - I just didn't know how to say no to her and I thought there was a chance she'd kill me." He took a breath, fully intent on continuing before Beatrice held up a hand and interjected.

"Slow down, Joel. Compose yourself." She spoke softly and with control, soothing Joel's rising panic with her words. She rose gracefully - Flona's healing still taking effect - and stepped to him, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, grounding him. "Aurora's desire is well known to me, and I am confident you can help."

Joel withdrew his arm from her reach and stood back up. He paced back and forth - doubt filled his mind. His brow furrowed as he paced the room, the lavender scent doing little to calm his senses. "How?" He asked with doubt in his lips. "She's clearly strong enough on her own," he stated, his voice tinged with confusion and frustration.

"It is not solely a matter of strength," Beatrice replied, her eyes steady as they followed Joel's movements. "There are those in the south who would not hesitate to lay down their lives in an attempt to kill her. Given time, I fear they would succeed."

Joel stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, disbelief etched on his face. She'd lose? Someone that strong? He shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "So, why do you think I can help?"

Beatrice sighed, a gentle smile rose on her lips as she sat back down on the bed. "That is not the question you should be asking."

Joel's frustration eased slightly as he thought deeper. "Why... Why does she want to leave the country?"

"Better," Beatrice paused, her eyes locking onto his. "Aurora seeks to cleanse the curse upon her name, to demonstrate to the world that she is virtuous, and that not all who have touched the vismana are corrupt."

"Wait!" Joel shook his head in disbelief. "She's a Touched One!?" His eyes drifted as he thought back to his time with Aurora. Her eyes... are gold...

"Yes, and no." Beatrice placed up a hand again, gesturing to Joel to relax and pay attention. "What do you know of The People of Samul?"

From the Dawn? The ones Lor respected? Joel tried to recall the last few days. So much had happened that the nitty gritty details had become a bit of a blur to him, but a clear image still existed in his mind. Without understanding her question, he began to list off their physical characteristics. "They were tall, large, actually. With golden eyes, and golden hair. They fought in that battle, right? They're Touched Ones too!?"

"You speak as if you know them?" She asked, her eyes narrowed with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue.

Joel shook his head, his voice hesitant. "No, I've, uh, heard stories, is all." He glanced away, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.

Beatrice's expression softened, but her eyes remained keen. "The People of Samul served Hel in the Crimson Dawn War, seven hundred and twenty-seven years ago," she continued.

Joel's eyes glazed over with recognition. "The war that brought the dawn?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of those words sinking in, and the echo of that night like a mist in his mind.

"Precisely," Beatrice confirmed, her expression stoic. The air between them thickened with the echoes of the past, and Joel felt a chill run down his spine as he recalled the battle that day and Roland's final words.

It's been seven-hundred and twenty-seven years!? So Lor and the others really are... Wait... The People of Samul served Hel? Joel thought back to what Tiberius had said in the war room, and how Lor had acted upon seeing the People of Samul, weren't they allies?

"The actions of the Samulian's brought forth The Touched Lands, a blight that has plagued our world for centuries." She paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in.

Joel recalled the moment the sky lit up during the war - the very moment the Dozrak'een was about to kill him. She's saying the Samulian's did that?

"It is said," Beatrice continued, "that after the Dawn, the great King Zenith nearly destroyed The People of Samul, but it was all he could do to push them deeper into The Touched Lands, where they now live forever amidst the Vismana." She took a deep breath, her gaze distant as if recalling the words to a story she had been told many times before. "However, among the remnants of The People of Samul, there exists a tribe named The Nerulian's." She looked back to Joel, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "This tribe seeks to cleanse their hands of the stain of their past, and of their counterparts. To this end, a treaty was signed between Durnovia and The Nerulians with that exact aim, ninety years ago. The treaty stipulated that they were allowed to live in peace on the condition that they did not maintain a military force. Instead, they were permitted an allowance of thirteen members trained in combat to protect their tribe from external threats, so long as those thirteen never raised arms against Durnovia."

"Only thirteen?" Joel interrupted with a baffled stare.

"Can you imagine anything that would survive thirteen Auroras?"

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The two of them paused for a moment as they considered what that would look like. "I guess not..." Joel replied honestly.

"Precisely." She gave Joel an agreeable smile. "They named these warriors The Rhuban al-Mana." Beatrice continued again. "It means, The Monks of Mana, or," she paused, knowing the weight of her words - though they were lost on Joel, "The Seeds of Mana." She looked down to Flona, who gave a reassuring smile. "Twelve of them are the equivalent of over five thousand men," Beatrice continued, picking up her tea. "I know this, because they do the same job as our forces within The Breach: they hold back The Touched Ones within the north. For the most part." Beatrice took a delicate sip of tea and cleared her throat.

Joel sat back on the edge of the tub, his mind reeling from the flood of information. Twelve people do the job of an army of five thousand!? He placed sweaty hands to his face and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. He looked to Beatrice who had no sign of humor on her face, twelve people... He imagined the power each one must have and shook with a mix of anticipation and fear. This fucking game.

"The treaty between our two nations was sealed by marriage, joining the leader of House Tempest, my father, and the leader of their tribe by law," Beatrice stated, her voice steady and measured.

"That would make your father..."

Beatrice nodded. "He will celebrate his one hundred and eleventh birthday this fall." She said proudly, taking a moment before continuing, "There is more. The consummation of the marriage resulted in a daughter. The first, and only successful offspring of our two peoples." She took another pause, allowing the gravity of her words to hit. "That person is Aurora - my half-sister - and the current thirteenth member of the Rhuban al-Mana."

Joel's eyes froze in a wide stare. The magnitude of the revelation, and the reason for Beatrice's visit started to sink in. "This is just all so much..." He breathed gingerly.

"Stay focused, Joel. This is important. The People of Samul, and by extension, the Nerulians, give themselves names which derive from mana. I personally am aware of two such Nerulian names: Manar, the current leader of The Rhuban al-Mana, and Cimana, Aurora's mother. So, why is it that Aurora is not named in this manner?" She asked rhetorically, then paused, waiting for the question to sink in. "Just as the Touched Lands separate Durnovia and Vivaxem to the East, the northern lights separate Durnovia from the tribe she is from within the north. As a child of both worlds, she binds the two peoples together while belonging to neither, just like the auroras in the night sky." She shook her head and looked away. "The Durnovian people do not accept her because of the history of her people, and the Nerulians do not accept her because she is half-Durnovian - half of those who refuse to forgive them for their past. While she stands among their ranks as a warrior, thanks to the treaty, and may indeed surpass us all in strength, Aurora has no place to call her own. So, she drifts between the northern realm and here, as she has done for decades," Beatrice said, a sense of remorse in her eyes.

"For decades?" Joel repeated, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as the image he had of Aurora dissolved into something else entirely.

"She is, after all, ninety years old, which is not peculiar for someone with so much mana and befitting their title as immortals." Beatrice paused, her fingers lightly resting on the edge of her teacup. "Though we come from different mothers, our father is the Lord of House Tempest. Yet, I am a commander in the military, while she is but a vagrant - an unwanted and undesirable thing that has been cursed by the world, and has suffered the life of a political hostage. I wish to change this." She inhaled deeply, slowing her racing heart. "Aurora and her people could become great allies. Or, in the king's eyes, a terrible foe. He has become a paranoid man of late, and views their strength as an unchecked threat, one that could become disastrous to Durnovia. He fears their power and their ties to Hel and the vismana, and in his paranoia, he wishes to destroy them. A task he is unable to do while this southern war persists."

"And you want to, what? Control their power?" Joel asked cautiously, his tone respectful yet probing.

Beatrice shifted uncomfortably. "Harsh words. But there is a droplet of truth in them. Power should be used." Beatrice met his gaze, her eyes full of resolve. "Nearly seventy percent of our current population are Unblessed. That means thirty-five percent of our population are Unblessed males, almost all of whom were never trained in mana before I created my unit. The other thirty-five percent are women who remain in textiles, cooking, cleaning - mundane works - if they're lucky. Prostitution, if they're not. There is more wasted power in this kingdom than the king dares to admit."

"You want to..."

"Liberate them," she interjected passionately. "Give them power and freedom. The current king believes love and loyalty are fleeting, that fear is everlasting. He believes the strongest lessons are the ones that scar and burn you, not the ones that heal or caress you. His ideology has permeated the minds of the people, influencing their every decision - whether they know it or not. I believe his ideology is wrong. I believe we can create a vibrant future built upon goodness, even if I must stain my hands to do so."

"So that you can use them to gain power?" Joel asked, his tone inquisitive but careful to not sound accusatory.

"So that the kingdom can grow strong enough to overcome any threat. Even Hel." Her voice rose with conviction.

Joel shook his head. I don't get any of it. What's my role here? "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you hold one part of the puzzle." Beatrice stated, her demeanor calming. "You hold Aurora."

Joel laughed slightly out of shock. "You're getting that because she made me her recruit? She only did that so she could use me to escape the country!"

Beatrice's eyes filled with empathy. "Regardless of her intent to use you - she has placed a great deal of trust on your shoulders. And... if you knew her as I do, you would understand what it means for her to let someone in."

"This is insane, what do you want me to do? What could I possibly do?" His tone was laced with the frustration he felt. He sought clarity and direction - something this game had been elusive with thus far.

Beatrice sighed at Joel's lack of composure, but let it slide without remark. "Aurora and I share a common desire: to clear her name and integrate her tribe into the nation of Durnovia. Her approach is straightforward; mine, more subtle."

Joel echoed her sigh unconsciously, taking a moment to breathe a little steadier. "Which is?" He asked.

"I would have her marry an Unblessed." Beatrice stated firmly, her gaze unwavering as she observed Joel's reaction fill with bewilderment. "Unblessed have never held a position of power in Durnovia. Such a union would elevate an Unblessed to a level akin to nobility and unite the Nerulians with our ranks. Imagine, Joel, a noble who understands and champions the plight of the downtrodden, a noble who could unify all peoples!" Her tone grew more impassioned. "The royals, the Unblessed, the Nerulians - all under one banner! Imagine how invaluable this person would be! Coupled with the training of Unblessed and the admission of women into the military, House Tempest will have enough power to ascend to Monarchy. We could rebuild Durnovia into a bastion of equality. Within a mere decade we shall become the most powerful kingdom the world has ever known! It could defend forever against The Touched Ones, end the southern conflict in a matter of months, unify the entire continent under one ideology! Joel, it could bring peace! Enduring and everlasting peace!"

Joel was stunned. Such a hefty dream and it hung on such feeble strings. "You would have me marry Aurora for this?"

"No, no, not you," Beatrice replied firmly, her impassioned tone softening slightly. "You are an outsider. It would be an Unblessed Durnovian who has seen the pain of this nation, who has experienced the segregation and the inequality it has bestowed upon them. Someone with a good and strong heart who can be shaped into what the kingdom needs."

Joel's thoughts went straight to Cedric before he realized why Beatrice had been willing to burn herself in that cave - willing to risk it all for an Unblessed. "Damon," he whispered with a pensive certainty.

"You must persuade Aurora that her strength threatens the treaty and her people's fate - convince her that peace, like her mother did a century ago, lies in marriage."

"There's no way I can convince her," he said, shaking his head.

"Not today, no. But Aurora is a patient woman. She has waited decades for this opportunity. She sees it in you now, and she will wait as long as necessary."

Joel felt deflated. He couldn't be sure if this were an impossible task, or not - but it felt as much. He thought to Aurora, to what little he knew of her, then recalled the last time he saw her. "Hasn't she just gone south to some town to defend it? Isn't that enough?" He asked, hopeful of a path that did not rely on him.

"You mean defeating those creatures?" She asked with a humored expression. "Joel, rest assured, they are not the greatest threat this kingdom faces. Even if Aurora is allowed to take part in the defense, it will not erase her people's past. They were the ones who fought alongside Hel. The ones who almost brought the end of this world under the leadership of the most unspeakable evil, and the ones who are immortalized by the vismana - their very name carries a stigma that cannot be washed off so readily. It would take far, far more than defending a single town to scrub away such history."

Joel shook off the confusion over the true history - uncertain of what he saw seven hundred and twenty-seven years ago - uncertain whether two tribes existed back then or whether history had been altered. "What about defending The Touched Lands?" He asked, picturing The Breach he had yet to go to.

"The Touched Lands pose no immediate danger; Kyrstil has guarded The Breach for centuries." She rubbed her neck and her eyes drifted away for a moment, recalling a pain that could not be soothed by Flona. "Even if it were a threat, Aurora's solitary efforts would not be enough to sway public opinion. Only through unification, through marriage, can their name be rewritten."

"I still don't understand how? How can I tell her what to do? I don't even understand why she thinks I can help her, or why you think that I'm capable?"

"Do not play the fool. As I have mentioned before, you infiltrated a closed country during war time and ascended the Royal castle's highest floors unnoticed. Then, on your first day in Kyrstil you gained the favor of Aurora, a Nerulian. On your second, you saved the life of a noble and helped slay an unknown species of monster. All of this, and by an Unblessed. Not to mention, your speed. To move so quickly without using mana..." She paused, clearly using her mana sense on his legs. "Of all your deeds, it is your swiftness, especially for an Unblessed, which intrigues me most. Have no doubts, Joel. Your deeds thus far have been nothing short of miraculous and have been well observed. Perhaps the question should be: what can't you do?"

Joel couldn't find the words to respond. The game had gone from forcing him into a corner, to giving him too many options, to forcing him into a corner again; it made him feel completely and utterly unsure of himself.

In a moment of utter defeat, he succumbed. "How much time do I have to do this?" He said with a weak voice, his shoulders slouched.

"As long as necessary, Joel. Even if it takes years."

"And... what do I get in return?"

Beatrice cocked her head. "What is it that you desire?"

"I want to live without pain or suffering." He answered immediately.

"Don't we all," she said softly, then exhaled. "There is still time, Joel." She lay on the bed and closed her eyes, signaling the end of their time together. "Train. Then, when the day has come, and you have settled this matter with Aurora, we shall speak of your freedom."

Joel nodded, contemplating her words for a moment. He glanced at Flona, who still meticulously tended to Beatrice's wounds with an air of focused determination. He gave a respectful nod to the two of them, "I'll do my best," he said softly. He stood, and slowly turned to leave the room.

"One moment," Beatrice said as Joel's hand touched the handle on the door, a question trapped on the edge of her tongue. "You like animals, do you not?"

"Animals?" Joel asked, turning back.

"Cats, foxes, and such. You like them?" She probed.

Joel's thoughts went to Fluffy and he smiled. "Very much so."

"I thought as much." She said, closing her eyes. "There's just something about you."

***

Joel left the room, exhaling loudly as he stepped into the corridor. What. The. Fuck. His heart rate slowed slightly at the sound of water trickling nearby. Turning a corner, he found himself back in the main hall, where the statue's outstretched arms seemed to echo Beatrice's words of a peaceful world.

Peace? He echoed. The People of Samul, Nerulians, Aurora. What am I supposed to do with all of this?

Joel stood motionless in the hall, burdened by the weight of the information he carried. His legs, thin and weary, threatened to buckle under the pressure.

A door closed to his right, and moments later Cedric appeared, laden with equipment and a small bag. "Heading somewhere?" Joel asked.

"Joel!" Cedric beamed as their eyes met. "Yes," he replied, coming to a stop beside Joel. "As second-in-command, I need to return to The Breach. It was supposed to be a quick trip, but with the meeting, the storm, and the manazite..." He shrugged. "You know how it goes."

Cedric's warm smile and lively eyes exuded a different energy from his younger brother's. It felt welcoming and thoughtful - an energy that came with the wisdom of age. Joel couldn't help but feel immediate comfort in Cedric's relaxed presence, though he did regret having to see him leave so soon.

"What about Commander Beatrice?" Joel inquired.

Cedric's tone remained friendly but indicated he was pressed for time. "The Commander will head back to Kyrstil when she can. About a thousand Unblessed are returning to the fortress for rest and training. She'll oversee their exercises and reward their efforts at The Breach." Cedric placed a reassuring hand on Joel's shoulder. "I have high expectations of you," he said, then turned to leave. "See you at The Breach!" he called over his shoulder, waving goodbye. "Oh, the boys are in the third door on the left! Don't let them go easy on you - too much kindness blunts your edge." With that, he opened the main doors and vanished into the storm.

"Too kind?" Joel echoed softly, pondering Cedric's words.

Joel smiled to himself, the tension easing after his brief exchange with Cedric. He continued down the hall to the door Cedric had mentioned. Ready for the day to end, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.