“The last king of Callir was known for his deviancy. The private journals of his most trusted advisor, a student of Euronel, make mention of kidnappings occurring on a regular basis. The king would steal infant children, sometimes free citizens, sometimes slaves, and lock them in pots of various shapes, or make them wear elongated bracelets and collars, every day and night for years. The children would grow up and a decade later they would find themselves plagued with odd, inhuman morphologies and absurd mutilated bodies, all for the amusement and entertainment of a insane monarch.

-historical records of Callir”

* * *

Astrael

“Hmm...” Astrael crossed his arms on the window ledge and rested his chin on top of it. “So Leon has a younger brother, eh?” He slightly turned his head to glance at Rina, nodding and sitting on her bed.

“He's older than us, apparently. But you should call him sir Leon, you know?” She pouted, not bothering to hide from her brother the fact that she disliked it when people spoke improperly of her beloved knight.

He simply smiled and faced back the city down there. “Forgive me, young mistress. Sir Leon has a brother, then. Oh, let me correct myself once more – an equally knightly brother.” He heard the large oak bed creak as his sister let herself fall on it, before sighing loudly.

The sounds of the city barely reached him here. The neighing of the horses and the yelling of the people became lost and turned into a low buzzing noise, with only he occasional flapping of a bird's wings breaking this fake silence. He tried to look for the red-light district, wondering if from up here he could see the street where he and Bert had encountered merry drunkards a week ago.

I guess it was too small of an alley to be visible between the roofs of the city, he concluded after half a minute of lazy searching.

“I'm not sure he is knightly or anything like that, though...” Rina said at last, continuing a conversation that Astrael believed to be over.

He faced her yet again, this time turning his body and resting his back onto the ledge. “Mh? How so?”

“Sir Leon said he was sick, or something of the sort,” she replied before pausing and fixing her alarmed eyes on her brother. “Ah, don't repeat what I'm telling you, okay?” Astrael straightened up and listened more carefully.

“Of course. What's his name?”

“Timenon, I believe. He wanted to become a bloodsguard too, but apparently he will never be able to, because of his illness.” Astrael was about to inquire about the nature of said illness, but Rina saw through his intentions and stopped him. “I didn't ask. I don't think sir Leon would have liked to talk about it.”

“I suppose you're right,” he said in an apologetic tone, while his mind was already away. How did she come across that information? Did she seduce Leon into confessing his family issues or something? Truly, this sister of his was terrifying. On a more serious note, Leon probably revealed that story in order to gain her trust and sympathy, but regardless of the reason, perhaps that was here the lead Astrael needed. It was worth the bet, at least. “Say, Rina.”

She tilted her head. “Yes?”

“Do you trust me?” She raised her brows and answered with a confused expression, and he chuckled silently. Of course you do. “Remember the gift I told you about?”

“Oh, the crossbow thing? You've started building it?”

“Soon, soon. I'll need funds before that, as you know.”

Rina nodded. “True.”

“Would you do me a favour then? Next time you see Leon... sir Leon, could you casually mention my project?”

She looked him straight in the eyes, perhaps trying to figure out his intentions. Not that she would ever believe he harboured nefarious ambitions or things of the sort, no, and if she did, it most likely had to do with Leon. Was he trying to trick Leon, was what she was hoping to find out.

“...Sure,” she finally declared.

“In case you were wondering, it will benefit to us all – you, Leon, me, and if I'm right, Timenon the most.”

“Do you think-” Rina was interrupted by a knock on her door. “What is it?” she yelled to the person on the other side.

“Young mistress,” said the muffled voice which Astrael recognized to be a servant's, “it is time for your calculus lessons.” Rina groaned and jumped off the bed, before casting her sad gaze on her brother, wordlessly imploring him to do something about it.

Oh, he could, he surely could. He could lie to the servant and said that Rina wasn't feeling well. He could seal the door by moving chairs and shelves in front of it, or he could help her escape through the window with a rope carefully made from bedsheets. He truly had many possibilities. So he denied her request with a mocking smile. Sorry, dear sister, calculus is important!

They left the room together, one grumpy and the other feigning compassion, but went their separate ways after a few steps. Some of Rina's lessons would happen in her room whenever it only required books, but the calculus teacher insisted that she came to the fourth floor, where he had a laboratory of some sort.

I suppose I'll work on my own project too, Astrael thought, already seeing the formulas and numbers appearing in his mind.

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He wandered on the last floor until he reached the fountain. Around it, the paths were made of thin sand, the ideal support for his drafts and calculations. He looked at the notes he had taken on the wax tablet, opened Euronel's book on weaponry at the page that displayed the diagram of a crossbow, then began to work.

He must have spent an hour or so, drawing in the sand with a stick, making cross sections of the weapon, calculating the length of the parts, thinking about which materials to use depending on the quality and the price. It had to be better than the regular product, in the end, or else there would be no point in making all that fuss. No doubt he would have less trouble if he had a real crossbow laying around for studying, but that could probably wait until he managed to bait his target into becoming his patron.

Another possibility he had considered but discarded quickly was to visit a workshop with the plans and diagrams of his future upgraded crossbow. But even if he succeeded in catching the craftsmen's interest, they would probably end up stealing his idea and all his efforts would have been for naught. Not many people would find it dangerous to cross a child, especially when he was naïve enough to show his ingenuous ideas to the first untrustworthy knave he saw.

And regardless of the craftsmen's work ethics or whatever fame his idea might bring him among Sazin's circles, it wouldn't be nearly as efficient when it came to his other goal – to get in a position where he could meddle in the temple's or the nobility's affairs.

“Hmm... Would heavier bolts be better?” he muttered. “I wonder.”

“My, we have an artist here, it seems.” Astrael turned his head to glance at whoever was the imbecile commenting on his diagrams, and was almost surprised for a second.

It was Therenus, the local lurker, as Astrael liked to call him. That old man, in his capacity of elder, and with all the weak bones and joint pain that came with it, could only spent his days wandering around the roof of the temple. His old age preventing him from taking the stairs without being carried, he found it more convenient to have everyone come to him instead of the opposite.

As such, Astrael would often see Therenus strolling in the garden while he talked with underlings or visitors, or, whenever he was alone, lurking. To be fair, the elder would only be taking a stroll by himself, but it really looked like he was lurking, hence the nickname.

“Elder,” Astrael greeted while lowering his head, though he was more intrigued by the man standing next to Therenus. Tall, bearded, he was probably in his forties yet retained most of his youthful handsomeness. Lustrous brown hair drawn back, and a rich, elegant attire. He was a noble, no doubt, but Astrael did not know his name.

Fortunately, the elder somehow felt it would be proper to introduce everyone.

“Ah, lord Danalion, this would be... err, Astrael, if I recall? The chosen's brother.” Hearing that, the lord put his hand to his chin and rubbed his beard, seemingly processing the information. In the end, he came to the same conclusion as everyone else, that the young mistress' brother was someone whose favour should be courted.

“I see, I see. Nice to meet you, Astrael. I hope your sister is well.” He then observed intently the drawings in the sand, trying to find something he could feign interest about. “Oh, could these be diagrams for a crossbow?”

Astrael was impressed, he did not expect a noble to notice the nature of his work, especially since none of these barely readable drafts showed a normal view of the entire weapon.

“Indeed,” he said, “I would like to become a weaponsmith when I'm older!” Another lie, but this one was probably one of the the most credible he ever came up with. He had indeed an interest in making weapons, and though it was very common for children his age to dream of being soldiers and knights, many others aimed to start a trade or to set up a workshop. Especially when their fathers were merchants, smiths or carpenters themselves.

“Is that so?” Lord Danalion chuckled. “Well, good luck, I'm sure you'll become a famous craftsman.”

Yeah, yeah, just make sure you don't step on my sand, he replied in his mind as he watched the two men walking around the fountain, barely avoiding his diagrams. Danalion, huh... He sat on the fountain ledge and pricked up his ears while the pair resumed their conversation.

“...half a dozen ships coming back from Ocia. If we distribute some of the goods to the people, we may compete with him for the people's favour.”

“Bah,” scoffed the elder, “the plebs will always ask for more. Let us not ruin ourselves in trying to oppose Phiramel.”

“We can settle with a scarce charity then. Put the blame on him when they ask why we stopped giving food and clothing for the winter.”

“True enough. We only need rumours to spread in order to...”

The voices faded in the distance and they now sounded like intelligible murmurs. Astrael knitted his brows. Looks like Phiramel has competition. Are they scared of the influence he will gain by having Rina at his side? Though she hasn't even been introduced to the people yet.

He was certain that the Danalion house was one of the most influential in Callir. And the elder looked rather friendly with the lord, they were allies without a doubt – worse, it was obviously not a secret since they were ostensibly walking together in the garden. Meaning their ties were strong enough not to be bothered by public opinion or prying eyes of other factions.

I wonder where Viriane stands in all that. He glanced up at the sky, closing his eyelids as the sunlight blinded him. The sibyl can surely boast influence, what with her divination skills and all that.

He was starting to have an overall view of the political chessboard that was Callir, albeit a still incomplete one. It wasn't as simple as he hoped, but he could still work with that, as long as he was careful. He wanted to avoid directly distributing blows anyway, so for now he would only sneak his way into Phiramel's faction and watch from afar, while advising Rina whenever it was necessary.

He gazed back at his drafts in the sand, and focused on the issue he had been dealing with before being interrupted. Even if I find a way to make the spanning easier, it'll still be too heavy for Rina. Should I try to reduce the overall weight?

If it was only Rina, then... She'd grow up eventually, and with her training as a hero she would develop fine muscles. It wasn't a bad idea to make it a bit heavier than planned. But then there was Timenon. Had he been any other blue-blooded's son, which was what Astrael had originally aimed for, it would have worked out just fine. He would have gifted this crossbow to the child of a lord and gained his favour with that simple toy.

Timenon, though? The boy was already grown up, and he seemed to have a weak constitution of some sort. He had no idea what was this illness Rina spoke of, but it would be safe to assume that it was a fairly crippling one, if it was something that stopped him from being a bloodsguard. Not that bloodsguards weren't skilled, but seeing how many of them were second or third sons of the nobility without any exceptional military background, it was more of a prestigious title rather than a proof of talent... Best make a crossbow that even an infant could hold and fire then...

And if I'm wrong about Timenon and Leon... Well, no matter, I'll find another house to please. Did lord Danalion have a young son, by any chance?

Thinking about the crossbow once again, he could just make it smaller, but the power would be altered. What if he worked on the bolts, then? There were ways to make them faster, more powerful and more accurate.

“It'll be a real pain if we have to craft special bolts, however...”

Maybe I should just look for deadlier bolts altogether, something dangerous enough even with a diminished power.

“War bolts?” He scratched his hair. “I'll need to go back to the workshops and ask about the price...”

But if the projectiles are too heavy, there's no point in having a lighter weapon, I guess. Maybe I should prepare different kinds of bolt for different situations...

Another hour of planning and drawing, and the sun was now shining brightly in the sky. Is it noon already? He wasn't particularly hungry, but Rina probably wanted to eat with him. She was too shy to send her maidservants on errands for now, so he still had to guess everything if she didn't come and ask directly.

He was about to leave the garden and look for Rina on the fourth floor when he spotted Julia in her red robes walking through the galleries. For some reason, he was reminded of the first day of travel when they left their village. The campfire. It was just another hunch, but one worth a try... He would already be sowing one seed with the help of Rina, he had nothing to lose by seeing if a second one could be planted.

Even if he was mistaken about her, there was no doubt she was in Phiramel's faction, and would probably work for her senior's goals and rely on his guidance whenever she could. If, for instance, the hero's brother were to come to her, asking for money because he wanted to build something for his sister... Julia would surely share this knowledge with her mentor, and they would see this as an opportunity to drag Rina deeper in their side by lending a friendly hand to her brother.

We'll see how it plays out, he concluded as he changed his route and walked toward Julia instead of the stairs. It was always better to have two baits instead of one.