Calista sits and watches the window, confined to her room by her parents. It is already dark out.
Her room changed drastically since Alaric decided to sleep separately a few years ago. At one point, she had no interest in fashion. But, he had told her to keep an open mind about lady-like things, even if her mother was trying to shove that kind of sensibility down her throat.
She had taken his advice well, not wanting her hatred of her mother to skew her entire worldview. As a result, her room changed drastically. She became interested in furniture and design aesthetics. Her closet that was once filled with the bare minimum, now contained several dresses for all occasions, sleep wear and even training, horse-back riding and hunting attire.
She even became interested in shoes, a shoe rack of thirty pairs of shoes, at one side of the room; it was a modest number for a noble lady, but she still held interest.
Yet, she didn’t just fill her living space with things that noble ladies like. She also draped her walls in training equipment from her childhood, including decorative weapons such as swords, spears, halberds, flails, as well as magical artifacts, and several other trinkets and souvenirs selected from Prelic’s commoner district on her trips out with Alaric.
In her room right now, she is thinking about him. At first, she had been confined with her maid but after several hours of waiting, she felt the need to be alone. She needed to think.
(Al… Why did you not tell me? I could have helped you… If you had told me your grade, I might have… made a different choice. I suppose you didn’t want to make my decision about you.)
Calista could only scoff at such consideration. Her brother had always treated her in such a selfless manner. For all the good it did her right now…
Suddenly, the door opens and a woman enters her room, wearing a different dress from the earlier ceremony. She has a smile on her face.
“Calista, darling, how are you–”
“Mother, where is Al?”
“...Don’t be rude, I was spending the past few hours finding a proper way to deal with him. Be considerate to my fatigue.”
Calista grit her teeth but didn’t voice any anger. She didn’t want to deal with her mother’s anger. For all her growth, childhood fear was a difficult thing to overcome.
“...Then, may I ask, mother, how did father end up dealing with him?”
The woman, Clementine Ironhill, clicks her tongue, her soft smile disappearing.
“We have… decided to place him in seclusion for a while. He will be sent to live on a property at the edge of the territory in safety and luxury. We know how much you care about him so we saw fit to let him retire.”
“You… exiled him.”
“Your father can tell you more about it later. For now, you don’t have to worry. He is safe and unharmed. He will be cared for indefinitely. He will want for nothing.”
Calista slumps down in her chair by the window. She looks up at the black moon in the sky. It is almost indistinguishable from the “new moon” phenomenon, but its surface reflected light well, glittering when it was full. It almost looked like the solar eclipse of a much weaker sun.
She tries to process her mother’s words while focusing on the beautiful shimmering dark jewel in the sky. Yet, she finds herself falling short of comprehension. The lack of concern her mother is showing for her brother, the fact that she can no longer see her brother on a daily basis, the fact that she won’t be able to…
Calista does ask one question.
“...Can I see him before he goes?”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
“Why… isn’t it?”
“He has already departed.”
(Why… are you smiling? Why are you smiling while saying that!?)
Calista bit the inside of her lip, drawing blood. It was all she could do to prevent herself from screaming in hatred.
Of course, she understood why her mother was smiling. Clementine Ironhill is a person obsessed with purity and bloodline. The direct descendants of Ironhill or her own illustrious baron family, Marthesda, could never possess such aptitudes, lest their families face ridicule from their aristocratic peers.
(Bloodline inferiority… What does being an Ensoarc have to do with ruling anyways? Many of father’s knights are higher realmed than him. Anyways, Al’s already an Asthenos even as a grade three. Effort pays off and… and… it shouldn’t matter. He’s my brother. Why would it matter to me what grade he is? I don’t love him any more or less. He’s still Al…)
Clementine sighs. Calista turns her attention towards her annoyed expression.
“Calista, it is important that you put this all behind you.”
“...What?”
“You have a brilliant future ahead of you. If it’s you, we could even engage you with a marquess or ducal heir and–”
“So what?” Calista spat, frustrated. “What does that have to do with Alaric? We are talking about Alaric right now!”
“...Do not raise your voice to me.” Clementine speaks, her voice dangerous. Calista shrinks back.
At Calista’s response, Clementine smiles slightly, satisfied in her daughter backing down. She has raised her daughter to be subservient. It’s good that she doesn’t let her high core grade get to her head.
“Anyways, your brother was only holding you back. He may have had talents in combat, but with his grade, he can’t even join the military as an officer. He’ll be lucky if he can reach Asthenos within the next thirty years.”
“...”
“You agree, right? At grade 14, you might have been able to reach Asthenos even earlier if it wasn’t for someone like him. A grade three born to our family, what a bad omen… Honestly, if he hadn’t been born alongside you, parasitizing your destiny, I wonder if you could have even been a grade 15.”
Clementine laughs and Calista stares blankly at her. A thousand thoughts race through her mind until she finally reaches a conclusion. Things cannot continue like this. She had told her brother about her wishes for the future for the family. It’s about time she took measures to ensure she isn’t walked all over.
“Mother… I would like to speak to father.”
—
(Well, things worked out pretty much as I expected.)
A carriage led by two horses makes its way through a dirt road, already having left the city of Prelic. On each side of the road is an expanse of woodlands. Alaric opens the curtains of the carriage door’s window and sees a knight on that carriage’s left side wearing full plate armor, their head covered with only a small slit for him to see through.
The knight isn’t wearing any of the Ironhill colors or insignia, the carriage as well is quite drab.
(Best not to affiliate me to the house, I guess. They’re about… low Tropos. Good. The black moon is out today. Much less visibility than normal, quite fortunate, but since the carriage won’t stop to rest, the area up ahead must be quite safe. Well, makes sense.)
Orion is waiting. He is on his way to his place of detention. He doubts the Viscount would be stingy concerning his treatment. He must have seen the importance that the grade 3 brother has to his grade 14 sister.
(Especially with how angry and frantic Cal was to make sure I wasn’t separated from her when the ceremony ended. Father’s knights and mother had to physically block her and drag her away.)
As a result of that display, Alaric is certain he will be guaranteed luxury. He would be given expensive meals every day, he would have free reign over his secluded property and the area is likely a spot with few wild animals or monsters roaming nearby. He would simply have to be held in his new home indefinitely.
(As long as the Viscount can entice Cal with visiting privileges, he has a way to control her, and… a use for me.)
He didn’t mind any of that. It was immaterial after today anyways.
(No, what doesn’t sit right with me is…)
Alaric looks over at the black haired woman sitting besides him, her eyes red and puffy. She has already cried a great deal throughout this carriage ride. He had to console her but he really didn’t know what to do with her. Normally, she’s so calm and affectless, her eyes solemn and serious. Yet, after a few minutes into the carriage ride, she had suddenly burst into pained sobs.
(Sigh… You’re really making me feel bad.)
“If you’re done crying, can I talk to you, Rubedo?”
“...I’m sorry, young master. I… I just can’t believe that… I can’t believe they could do this to you. Your own mother and father…”
“You’re a child of the Gilfoyle knight family, Rubedo? Your parents aren’t concerned with bloodline and core aptitude?”
“M-Maybe my second brother, and even then, my eldest sister is a grade four. He loves her and would never abandon her. T-This kind of treatment to your own kin… How could… No, I’m sorry for my unsightly display so far.”
She refuses to cry any further, finally feeling embarrassed by her earlier display.
(So, there are some families among the aristocracy who still value familial affection…)
“Rubedo, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me in my life. You’ve always given me great consideration. I think you must be the one to thank for Tilda being one of the carriage horses, right?”
Orion saw his well-cared-for midnight steed at the front of the carriage alongside another horse from the stable. Rubedo scoffs.
“Your mother didn’t even bother to consider what your horse would do without you. Detestable…”
“...You’re really speaking your mind tonight, huh?”
“I can’t help it, young master… Just because you’re of low aptitude, your parents completely disregarded everything else about you. I know that Calista would not have reached Asthenos this early without your help. Your mastery of arms and magic even without ascension are incredible. You are a genius, just like your sister…”
“You’ve never said this out loud, you know?”
“It isn’t my place to say what could be misconstrued as shameless flattery, praise is something your parents should have been conveying to you. Yet now…”
“Look, Rubedo, don’t think too hard about it. I’ve never considered Edom and Clementine my parents. I consider Cal my sister and you… my true mother. Why would I want those people to be my parents? Too self-satisfied, gluttonous and negligent…”
“Your mother especially…”
“Whatever, put her out of your mind. Let’s have a talk before tonight’s events unfold. I don’t–”
Suddenly, Alaric hears the call of a loon coming from outside the carriage, from the forest surrounding the road. He waits three seconds and hears it again. He waits five seconds and hears the call of a crow. He waits eight seconds and hears the loon once more.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
(Finally.)
Alaric holds Rubedo’s hand firmly and activates a certain magic. Rubedo instinctively tries to pull away but cannot break free from Alaric’s grip.
“W-What? This is…”
“I just activated a spell to make sure that only you and I can hear each other, so long as we don’t break physical contact.”
“That’s… That’s not a spell you–”
“The time has come, Rubedo. I’ll be going my own way from now on. There’s no reason for me to comply with Father and Mother’s detention plan, is there? So, I’ll ask… Do you want to come with me?”
“...”
“Honestly, I have known about my aptitude for a while now. Of course, I knew that I would be sent away from the family and I knew what Calista’s value would be to the family as well. But, I cannot be restricted by the family any longer, I have my own goals that I need to pursue independent of the Ironhill viscounty… and Prelic. My own life to live.”
“...You wish for me to accompany you.”
“I cannot ask you to do so. You still have a family that loves you. If I were to disappear, you can return to your parents and siblings, the Gilfoyle house. You would be safe. What I plan to do and where I plan to go–”
“Young master.” Rubedo speaks, her voice trembling slightly. “Is that why… Tarsin hasn’t been around the past week?”
Suddenly, the roof of the carriage is flung open, revealing the night sky and the black moon above. Acting immediately, having prepared for this long ago, Alaric leaps with Rubedo in his arms towards tree cover. He places Rubedo behind a tree while peeking out towards the road.
This is where he sees a newcomer. A tall man wearing light armor and a helmet obscuring his face is facing three knights, two on horseback, each of them well equipped and confused by the appearance of the interloper.
The carriage that Orion leapt off of has already crashed, tipped over with two of its wheels broken. Tilda looks unharmed luckily, which lets Alaric breathe a sigh of relief. He never let go of Rubedo’s hand. Now more than ever, their presence needed to be erased.
“Young master, is that really…”
“Don’t worry, just… trust me.”
Unlike Rubedo, Alaric has the ability to evaluate strength, stemming from an entire past lifetime of experience, coupled with the many lifetimes of the souls he’s absorbed. The two knights on either side of his carriage were riding their own Lithos realm horses. Animals and monsters have their own system of Ensoarc development compared to humans.
(The carriage coachman knight is the weakest, a low Tropos only. The other two are mid and high Tropos. The high Tropos will pose a problem for Tarsin. Or at least, she would have earlier…)
The high-Tropos knight, wielding two curved swords, leaps off her horse towards the masked interloper, Tarsin, while the other two leap away. The coachman quickly grabs the reins of the knights’ horses while tying them to the carriage to prevent them from running off.
He then joins the last one, the mid-Tropos, to scan the surrounding forest area for Alaric and his maid. All three knights realized that this turn of events was suspicious, most likely premeditated, especially considering how their ward had leaped out of the carriage with his maid as soon as the interloper destroyed its roof.
However, their opponent is only one mid-Tropos opponent, no match for a high Tropos. The aggressor leaps back from the woman trying to behead him.
“Who do you think you are to attack us without backup? Can you not understand the situation?” The dual-wielding knight shouts. Meanwhile, Alaric and Rubedo remain still, the two weaker knights searching an adjacent area.
“Young master, Tarsin is–” Rubedo speaks calmly, trying to grasp the current situation.
“He’s only mid-Tropos, the woman is a high Tropos.”
“H-He won’t stand a chance against her!”
“I’ve been planning this escape for months, Rubedo. Just watch, it’ll be over soon.”
Tarsin is standing without holding a weapon, silent as the high-Tropos knight tries to scrutinize his audacity in attacking her and her subordinates alone.
“Silence to mask your fear… Very well. If you’ve fooled yourself into dying, what else needs to be said?”
The woman, a close combat expert, activates a body enhancement spell to force her agility up. The air around the two fighters chills and the woman raises her blades, instantly coated with ice magic, to rend or otherwise shatter her opponent’s flesh.
Slice after slice tries to reach her opponent but she finds herself unable to touch her opponent. She feels a build up of mana from her opponent but doesn’t understand why he’s fighting her one on one if he’s a caster.
(Is he so mindless as to come here without any melee fighters on his side? Desperation… But still, even after my body enhancement spell, he’s dodging me. He’s not necessarily faster, he’s… a superior fighter? How could he… No, this isn’t right. I’m missing something here.)
The woman backs away. She didn’t want to have to do this but she needs the help of her mid-Tropos knight comrade. The opponent hasn’t stopped building his mana though she doesn’t know for what he plans to use it.
“Hey! I need–”
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning passes her head towards the mid-Tropos knight she was calling to. He is immediately put out of commission, his armor charred and smoking.
“...What!? Lightning affinity? Then–!”
The high Tropos knight turns her head to see the man with sparks of lightning flowing over his form.
“Impossible. That’s fucking impossible! M-Martial Body!”
Her opponent leaps towards her, his speed tripled. The “Martial Body” is a core advancement option available to those who reach Tropos. By placing the Tropos core in the point at the nape of the neck, bodily control and martial prowess is enhanced greatly. Additionally, the ultra rare lightning affinity is unlocked.
The Martial Body trait is nearly impossible to achieve as a Tropos, reserved for those at least two realms higher at minimum. Rubedo watches in awe as the shining form of Tarsin easily dispatches the high Tropos knight in front of him.
“Young master, h-how did Tarsin achieve Martial Body?”
“...”
Rubedo looks up at Alaric who looks unsurprised by Tarsin’s strength. Then, she remembers the grip he had on her hand in the carriage. He is still holding her hand in order to keep the silence spell from breaking.
“Your strength… This silence spell too, it isn’t something that… Young master, have you already–!”
“Yes, Rubedo. That’s right. I have already reached Asthenos.”
“H-How… How could you be a grade three?” Rubedo mutters. Alaric turns to face her, satisfied with the current flow of the battle.
“Rubedo, I suppose I have to ask you properly now. Will you return to your life prior to arriving at the Ironhill estate? Will you return to the Ironhill house and salvage your position by telling them how I escaped? Or… will you come with me?”
—
Tarsin easily took care of the three knights and gathered their unconscious bodies to the side of the road. Alaric and Rubedo came out of the woods to meet him. With the two knight horses and Alaric’s own steed Tilda, the three of them could easily flee from the area. Tarsin gets down on one knee in front of Alaric, bowing his head, and speaks.
“Young master, the preparations are ready.”
“Good. Where are we exactly, Tarsin?”
“This is an area of wilderness that is off the conventional highway path between Prelic and Arpeggio.”
“How long will it take us to reach Arpeggio then?”
“A day and a half if we leave now. I kept my pack nearby, we should have enough for the three of us, assuming…”
Tarsin looks over at Rubedo. The woman appears… resolved.
“Don’t worry, she’ll be coming with us. It wasn’t something I doubted, but still, it’s nice we don’t have to break up our gang of three.” Alaric laughs.
“Well, good. I wouldn’t want to deal with a sad young master having to leave his precious Rubedo behind.”
“H-Hey! Rude!”
“Oh? Did I speak lies?” Tarsin smirks.
Alaric turns to look at Rubedo. Her original demeanor as a professional maid has already returned. He sighs. He has to keep her safe of course but he also has to provide her with everything she could ever want. She’s even resolved to leave the Ironhill family to take care of him.
He has a fifteen year debt to repay with her, his true mother in this life.
“...Rubedo, you can follow me for now but feel free to get tired of me and leave whenever you wish.”
“Do I seem so uncertain and flaky, young master?”
“You won’t regret following someone with such a low core grade, in opposition to the current Ironhill territory? You won’t wonder if you should have followed me as far as I’m willing to go to achieve my dreams?”
“I have already made my choice. Do not second-guess my resolve. Though… I am surprised that your sister didn’t choose to accompany you.” Rubedo has no doubt that Alaric must have asked her already, but the fact that she isn’t accompanying him means…
Alaric smiles bitterly.
“Well… she has aspirations of her own. The Ironhill territory is diseased. I regret having to leave it because I haven’t tied up the loose ends there.” He considers the corrupted life mana in particular. “However, my goals don’t begin and end with the family, there is much I have to prepare for… People who I’m indebted to that I have to protect.”
Orion had spent three years protecting the commoner population of Prelic from the corrupted life mana being dumped by the Ironhill Plantation. However, his solution was only temporary and, now that he has to move on, is no longer a solution.
Remaining in Prelic wouldn’t solve that problem, though trusting in Calista to solve the problem quickly would also be difficult.
(There are still options I can take, but I have others who need me. There are too many who wish to be freed for me to prioritize those close to me. Well, it might take a while, but I can still stamp out the evil there…)
Alaric dusts off his clothes and looks over at the three unconscious knights.
The exiled scion sends a signal to Tarsin while walking towards the three of them. Tarsin, understanding the cue, escorts Rubedo away with their three horses. Alaric doesn’t want anyone to see what he’s about to do, though if they saw, it’s not as if they would understand.
“You three… I can’t leave you unjudged.”
Alaric removes the helmets from all three of them. The high Tropos knight is a youthful looking woman with a scar over her nose and lip and shoulder-length, light-violet hair. The mid-Tropos is a man with black hair, appearing to be in his fifties.
The third is a baby-faced knight with dark orange hair and a tooth missing. This one in particular tried to flee after Tarsin defeated the other two, but he was simply no match for the speed of lightning.
Alaric recognizes two of the three of them.
(Most of Ironhill’s knights perform truly despicable things. I had to personally pick mine and Cal’s personal knights to make sure they weren’t like the rest. Even Cal’s original personal maid was a bad influence so I had to replace her with Cernelise. But these two in particular…)
Over the past three years, Alaric had been absorbing the souls of those on the execution block. He had first absorbed Mailith, and then later his men, comrades and sympathizers who were rounded up and sentenced over a year and a half.
(Of these three… the high Tropos woman is someone who had appeared in Mailith’s memories, a portrait given to him by his right hand, Reah. She remembers her and she also became me. This woman looks the same now as when Reah was a little girl and Reah was executed at 34. This knight was there… She was there when Reah’s father was taken away.)
Alaric places his hand on the Tropos knight’s forehead who, although in her fifties to seventies, looks to be in her twenties because of Tropos life extension. He starts eating her memories. It takes several seconds for him to devour enough of her memories and he finds out what she felt in that moment.
The moment she beheaded Reah’s father, a protester who advocated for the dignity of the enslaved, with the same swords she used today.
(Nothing. You felt nothing.)
Alaric shatters her soul.
The aged knight lying unconscious isn’t recognizable to Orion’s memories. From the woman’s memories he had just eaten, he just seems to be a normal soldier as well. Alaric leaves him be. Tarsin had placed a sleep spell that would leave him unconscious for an hour. With the horses beside him, he would be protected from wild animals or monsters until he woke up.
(However, the baby-faced knight…)
Alaric doesn’t even bother absorbing his memories. He immediately shatters his soul.
(Mailith’s comrades, Shester, Lita and Bilia… This man took Shester’s and Lita’s family members and… Shester’s sister killed herself. No, my sister killed herself… He also assaulted Billia when the members of the rebellion were being rounded up in earnest. He broke her jaw and faced no punishment even though he was discovered in the act… He broke my jaw.)
Alaric’s mind burns as he considers what he went through when he was Billia, Lita and Shester. His vengeance on their behalf is what he owes them as the being who brought them into his fold.
He was righteous enough that he spared the shattered souls from hell, but he also ensured they never saw heaven. That was enough for him, for the souls within him.
Alaric breathes deeply for a few seconds before getting to his feet and wandering into the forest to where Rubedo and Tarsin are. Things had only just begun.
—
“Viscount… The mage who imprinted the tracking spells on the knights and Alaric… While performing a check on their travel status, he has confirmed that all three knights are slowly returning to Prelic with both Alaric and his personal maid moving towards Arpeggio.”
“...What?”
A man with silver hair, Viscount Edom Ironhill, looks up from his desk towards his servant. He breathes deeply trying to process what he has just heard.
“I don’t understand…”
“The separation indicates that the young master was intercepted in his journey and is now being escorted somewhere else, most likely through Arpeggio.”
“All the knights are fine, only incapacitated or…?”
“At least one of them is alive. Either all three knights are heading back, or one or two knights are bringing back the incapacitated or deceased knights.”
“Fine, but…”
(I suppose everyone in the ceremony hall must have figured out his importance to Calista… Someone acted quickly to secure him this early. Who? An enemy of the house? Hitrin? One of my vassals? Fuck…)
The man with silver hair grits his teeth in anger.
He considers the person of greatest importance right now, Calista. It is only reasonable that Calista’s importance is immediately capitalized upon by targeting the person who appears most important to her.
Edom recalls the conversation he had last night with her.
(She wanted to see him again and I could have dangled the prospect over her head so long as I held him within reach…!)
He wanted to maintain control over his daughter to some extent through the use of his potential-less son.
(Maybe I’ll actually need to accede to her demand. She wished… to be separated from Clementine, her own mother. She won’t like it, but until we find Alaric, we’ll need to placate her. We need to find him before his kidnapper removes the tracking spell.)
The Viscount found himself faced with the prospect of a lot of work. He immediately ordered his servant to gather the leaders of his knight and soldier regiments. In order to maintain control over his genius child, the future of Ironhill, he would go far.
It was do-or-die time.
(Don’t worry, Alaric… for your sister, we’ll ensure your safety. We’ll find you.)