Before Keylan could speak, Azemar beat him to it.
“Do try not to hospitalize the guards. It just creates extra paperwork.”
Alaster looked at his supposed teacher. The man was slouching in his chair, leaning back and resting his head on his hand. He truly appeared as if he was asleep.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it before we leave for Galmore.”
“The City Lord of Onigas did not ask for you. I did.”
Alaster sighed in frustration, “That doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does. I called to inform you that we are leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Then why did you make me wait outside just to tell me that?”
Azemar sat up, stretching for a moment before he stood up. As he did so, Alaster felt the room grow tense. Not due to anything the man had done directly. It was entirely from the Galmorian Delegates. They tensed the moment he moved.
Azemar either did not notice the change or did not care. He simply stepped down from the raised platform and approached Alaster.
“Because, my wards for this trip did not know either. I was waiting for a good moment, until you so rudely barged in. Best get ready. Say your goodbyes. Get whatever you need. Finish any preparations. Whatever. I don’t care. Just know that if you are not in the courtyard of this estate at dawn, I will leave you.”
And with that, Azemar walked out of the room, leaving panicking politicians behind.
Growling to himself, Alaster disappeared through the shadows, reappearing before a door. The door to Iris’ room. He could hear both Iris and Astrid talking to each other. The two had grown close through their mutual worry about Alaster.
From the Shadow Assassins spying through the estate, Alaster had been able to learn much about the inner workings, including a bit of gossip.
He knew that while the Siconian forces were traded back to Taria for quite a sizable sum, Astrid had chosen to stay behind. Many of her comrades had objected, but they understood. She had not been particularly close to them, though she did miss them.
Since then, Astrid had been sleeping in Iris’ room. She had her own room, but the two girls always talked late into the night, eventually falling asleep. Through their mutual worry, they quickly bonded over numerous topics and interests.
They were already talking about hunting together once things calmed down. That helped settle Alaster’s worry. He knew that after their defeat, Taria would seek to hurt Onigas in any way, including kidnapping for even killing its princess.
He knew that Iris was not some fragile glass sculpture. The spar the two had told him that much. But as his recent experience taught him, there was always a chance. Having Astrid nearby would diminish the chances Taria had, as well as help defend against any attack.
Astrid did not have much of an issue leaving Sicon, and she had no issue abandoning Taria. She was an orphan; she had no ties to the place where she had grown up. Here in Onigas, however, she had quickly found potentially the only person that had cared about her and found another she could call friend.
Iris was different, on a basic level. Her class was fairly average but had the potential to become increasingly powerful. She had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth and would want for very little. She was excitable and just as energetic as her little sister, though she attempted to hide it behind of mask of a graceful and dignified lady.
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The only thing Alaster was truly worried about, in regards to Iris, was Arthur. The man had not done anything harmful, to Alaster’s knowledge, but it was obvious that he was experienced in the political game and had the ambition to use it.
Alaster was curious to see how the two young women would develop. What would they become, and what would they mean?
But Alaster was there to say goodbye to them. Or was he?
Alaster froze, his fist raised before the door.
It was not the first time he had to leave behind those he cared about. He had done so many times. But never of his own volition.
Every time, he had been forced away, without the opportunity. And now that he had a chance to say goodbye, he realized, he did not know how.
How do you say farewell to someone who was a caring friend after your parents’ death and another who saved your life numerous times and left her own life behind to stay? All so you could go and learn how to best learn how to slaughter anyone who stands in your way?
Alaster knew that they both understood his reasoning and knew that nothing they said or did would change his mind. That’s part of the reason that Alaster cared enough to say goodbye to them. They understood him and didn’t try to change him.
Alster knew that they both liked him as more than just a friend. But he simply did not see them that way. To him, they were both still little girls he needed to protect. That only made it harder to say goodbye.
He did not want to say anything that would either lead them on or hurt their feelings.
‘Relationships are hard.’
‘Stop moaning about it. You know nothing. Just wait till you begin courting. Then, it gets difficult!’ Sedall laughed.
‘My people also had complex relationships. Though our courting rituals were targeted towards making a new stronger generation. Couples were decided by the two Clans in order to produce the strongest children.’ Belgroth explained, somewhat curious.
‘Sounds cold hearted.’ Sedall commented
‘Far from it. The couples rarely had issues with each other and those that did simply produced an heir or two then ignored each other. So long as a child was produced between the two, neither Clan really cared. They might be a tad disappointed, both that more heirs wouldn’t be born and because they do want the couple to be happy. But very rarely would a Clan intervene.’
‘Interesting idea. I guess our two Species are very different, despite being similar.’
‘Guys, can we get back to the topic at hand?’ Alaster interrupted.
‘Why? This is on you. They don’t even know we exist.’ Belgroth said with a chuckle.
‘I’ve personally found that just doing it is better than thinking and planning it.’
‘Is that why you ended up getting betrayed by someone you thought of as your closest friend and mentor?’
‘Too far man.’
‘Oh don’t be so sensitive.’
‘Guys!’
‘Don’t let us distract you. Get going.’
Sighing to himself, Alaster finally knocked.
* * * * *
Somewhere deep beneath the earth, in a place light had long ago forsaken, where even the dead avoided, a large white marble statue with gold accents knelt within a cavern with no entrance.
The statue was masterfully created. Each line and curve perfect, depicting a Holy Knight kneeling with its armored head bowed. In front of it, embedded in the ground, the Knight held a large greatsword.
The sword was metallic, though very few would have been able to identify the alloy. They did not need to; they could easily identify the sword itself.
It was a blade that was recognized throughout all of known history. The symbol of countless stories and legends. It was a weapon that child made toys of, going to bed with tales of it. It was a sign of hope for the righteous, and the bringer of destruction for the evil.
It was easily recognized, distinct from any other.
The blade itself was split in two down the middle, only connected through a golden Mana Crystal only a few inches from the tip. The two halves of the blade glowed a faint blue. The guard had a blue gem engraved into the center, powering the blue enchantment, allowing it to effortlessly cut through everything, including Magic.
The grip was wrapped in a silver alloy, polished to a shine. The pommel was round, engraved into a sun with twelve points. It was a beautiful sword. A sword of legend. A weapon that had laid dormant for centuries.
Without warning, the gem flashed, illuminating the lightless cavern for a moment before returning to black.
The silence gradually became heavier, thickening until it became oppressive. Cracks began to spiderweb through the statue, starting from the ground, quickly widening.
Bright white light escaped through the cracks, growing brighter still until it seemed as if the light was causing the cracks.
The cracks quickly widened, splitting off, creating countless branches. Marble began to break off, falling to the ground. Dust quickly grew into pebbles, into chunks.
As the cracks reached the fingers, they tightened on the handle, causing an explosion of marble.
Light filled the room, bringing with it a sense of warmth and safety, with a hidden rage.
As the last of the marble fell from the statue, the Knight raised its head, just as the light expelled all darkness.