Three people moved around the Heaven-cleaving Fortress, letting their feet direct them freely to whereabouts unknown. Aziz, who was taking point ever-so-slightly, couldn’t help but frown at the sheer amount of attention that was directed at him, and it wasn’t because the two people behind him were the poster children of the late great god Conrah. No, they were staring at him, or to be precise, at the floating man in blue, whose head was bumping off the ceiling every so often.
Aziz glanced at Paragon Maylin, who was bent on bumping Abele’s head on just about everything else, and felt his lips twitch. It wasn’t his place to say anything, but he did heartily regret his decision of not turning down Maylin’s offer to accompany him to the Hall of Guardians.
“Are we there yet?” Aziz asked, keeping his eyes away from the Paragon floating a metre or so off the ground.
“Close, close,” replied Paragon Maylin. “Just one more corner and…here we are.”
A courtyard, one built in the style of Mi-Zu’s more expensive estates, greeted Aziz’s eyes. In the drab greyness of the Heaven-cleaving Fortress, the expanse of green and pink was a feast for the eyes, and the colonel stopped walking for a few moments to admire the scenery. Flowers were blooming all around the tower in the middle, a sight that reminded Aziz of spring…but the four seasons of Orb had gone insane, so the flowers were also equally confused.
He decided not to think too hard about the weather.
“Ah…this is great.” He looked around the place. “Is there any place for me to sit down at?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” Maylin replied. “When we arrived a month ago, we have the same question, but the logic behind their refusal was that fights between stressed-out soldiers would occur over the issue of seats. Standing room only.”
“Bah.”
“That’s how everyone present reacted to, so you’re not alone.” She gestured with her left hand, and Paragon Abele fell onto the ground. “Can’t risk him floating off into the sky, or else he might become a flight hazard.”
“You should consider showing him more care,” Aziz replied. “He’s a…”
“Go on.”
“Never mind.” Aziz stretched his back. “Anyway, I never really got around to asking, but why are you guys here? Last I checked, you and your buddies were bunking in at Liamar’s Divine Kingdom.”
“The great Abele Antagonising Accident occurred,” Maylin replied. “Don’t ask. It’s just enough for you to know the name. Liamar personally sent us off with gongs and drums too; it was really embarrassing when we left.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“What did you guys exactly do for a great god to send you off like this?”
“Believe me. You do not want to know. Period.”
Faced with such a staunch refusal, Aziz could only give up. After dumping the unconscious Abele onto one side of the only road that led to the tower in the middle — Maylin didn’t want to spoil the grass by placing Abele on them — they entered the tower, where a small signboard read ‘Hall of Guardians’.
“Is Abele usually this mistreated in your group?”
“No, unless he decides to mouth off to you mortals or other gods, at which point we shut him up before things explode.” Maylin replied. “I think he has some superiority complex or something. This arrogance of his grew worse over the past few years than over the past thousand or so, which probably tells us just how problematic the fighting was on his psyche. Perhaps watching the Lord’s death also made it worse.”
“Traumas from war?” Aziz asked. “I didn’t expect familiar spirits to be affected by that. And to be honest, I’ve never heard about becoming insufferably arrogant as a syndrome.”
“As long as we have a will and an independent consciousness, we are not immune to such issues,” Maylin replied. “And we are constructions of the Lord. You cannot expect us to behave the same way as humans and beastfolk.”
“Experiences are transferable, though,” Aziz replied. “I’ve seen my fair share of such people too. Soldiers who barely made it back from the howling dark. Treating them with empathy and kindness would be a far better solution.”
“We’ve tried that too,” the familiar spirit replied. “I think his condition is also exacerbated by his preconceived notions about mortals, so we’re looking for volunteers to help him get rid of them.”
“Why are you looking at me?”
“You look like a good candidate. One patient enough to talk to him, who has enough fortitude to ignore his insults.”
Aziz eyed the familiar spirit. “Well, I could try. He is an acquaintance, after all. Maybe I could get Marie and Eventide to humble him through their impeccable wits.”
“Whatever you like.” Maylin looked back at Abele, who was now snoring at a volume audible even at the entrance of the Hall of Guardians. “And well, he is a really carefree person, all things considered. You should be able to get along with him, once you even out the arrogant words he spouts out on the regular.”
“Well, we do happen to be free,” Aziz replied, accepting the task implicitly. More importantly, such a task would distract him from dwelling on the negative side of things coming from the Republic, something that would definitely help his mental wellbeing. “I’ll talk to Marie and see if we can get Abele to open up to us.”
“Really?” Maylin asked. “Thank you!”
“I’m just going to make this clear, though. We’re not going to beat him up or anything.”
“Your funeral, but okay. It’s not like you can beat him anyway.”
“About that…does Abele have violent tendencies?” Aziz asked. “No point in asking me to befriend him and get rid of his biases if he beats me at every turn.”
“No, that’s my problem,” Maylin replied, without any hesitation whatsoever. “I sometimes get violent when something makes me angry.”
“You…should also work on correcting that.”
“Yes, I know. Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Anyhow, let me introduce you to the Hall of Guardians, a place that anyone here can register at to claim benefits. To register, one needs to be minimally a Knight, and…”