Chapter 17 - Reunion

Emeria let out constant sighs. She was stuck in a box again. And a handsome blue eyed knight was not riding alongside her carriage. Thus was her return to Arcaeus Peak eventless.

Bored, she unsheathed her weapon. She ran a finger along the polished surface of the thin sword. Her fifteenth birthday gift from Azurus. Her face burned when recalling him down on one knee, holding the sword above his head to her. It was perfectly balanced for her size and strength. It had a lovely gold colored guard and a green hilt with his name etched into it. Something to remember him by. She smiled as she traced each letter in the etching.

It wasn't fair. He was being reassigned somewhere and she didn't even know where. He'd just disappeared. When asking her mother, the queen dismissed the matter with a wave. Emeria didn't have a newly assigned knight either. The dismissal was very obviously due to the rumors surrounding her relations with Azurus. And no one else was being assigned to her because of possible new rumors that could arise. Emeria hugged herself. She missed him already. Missed his powerful arms, his boundless sky eyes, and the way he kissed her neck. Life felt like a void without him at her side.

She was at least glad to finally return to Arcaeus Peak. She hadn't seen her only other friend in over two years. Whispers of Elizia partaking in a recent skirmish had reached Emeria's convoy. She felt envious for it. She'd been stuck getting used to high society and learning of her future duties for the past two years while El could traipse about on adventures. Life was wholly unfair to Emeria of late.

Strange though that someone like Lord Kalin would allow his daughter to take to the fields after what'd befallen his wife. Emeria prayed for Lady Sar'tara's swift recovery, for the lack of her presence was just another part of life's harsh thorns.

Emeria sheathed her sword. She feared her time in Exaltyron had dulled her martial skills. She'd hardly had enough time to practice at all. The royal convoy passed through the gates of the garrison and Emeria jumped out of her carriage before it stopped moving, her feet hitting the damp, sowing season ground with a squish, mud splattering around the sides of her knee high boots. The air carried the smell of wet soil, horses, and freshly oiled metals. She ran past her black armored Queen's Guard escorts and flashed a smile at the one leading them. Sir Draumen shook his head as he dismounted from his horse.

Emeria recognized many familiar faces. Some of the garrison's roaming guard patrols greeted her from afar and waved in her direction. She waved back at them. It was as if she had never left. They still remembered her.

She spotted Elizia by the stables, shaking her head at a young man. "El!" she cried, flailing her arms above her head with an open mouth grin spreading ear to ear. Her blue cloak billowed behind her as she ran forward.

Elizia waved back and smiled. It slowly turned into a frown followed by widening eyes as Emeria didn't slow at all. She jumped towards the other girl and hugged her tight, forcing Elizia to fall back on a pile of hay. Emeria then pushed herself up and stared into her friend's dark green eyes. She crinkled her nose. "You stink, El," she said, noticing the dirt upon Elizia's cheek and her sweat matted skin. The top of her buttoned shirt was undone.

"Father has me doing labor," Elizia said as she rose to her feet. "He wasn't very happy with me sneaking off."

"Pfft. The duke has his own daughter, what? Shoveling manure?" Emeria burst out laughing, earning herself a glare. She slapped Elizia's back to rid it of stray bits of hay. Something didn't quite feel right. Elizia was different. Overwhelming even. Almost as if… Flames! She's two inches taller than I am. And curvier.

"Where's Xenaria's future king? I don't see Azurus anywhere?"

Emeria blushed. "I don't know. Mother dismissed him because of the rumors about him and I. He's been assigned elsewhere. I don't mean for this to be the end. I don't care what mother says. I'll find Azurus one way or another. By the way, who were you just speaking to?"

"The Second Chancellor's third son. To be honest, I don't even know his name. He brings me flowers often, mostly dandelions from the training field, and reads crude poems to me. As if I was some city raised noble girl.

"Grumpy Marco's third… Adelem Aurelin?"

"That sounds about right," Elizia said."

"Flowers and poems seems like deep affection to me," Emeria teased, elbowing her friend's side. "Give him a chance. Couldn't hurt now, could it?"

"He's a bit simple minded," Elizia said. "I do feel guilty for refusing him. Both of his brothers died fighting the Empire. He's been trying to enlist himself into my unit."

"You have your own unit!?"

"Yes. Well, it was my mother's. It's a long story."

"We have a lot of time," Emeria said with a childlike enthusiasm. Elizia gave a pretend sigh, though seeming rather relieved to be doing something other than hard labor. She recounted her adventures of sneaking out of the garrison and taking part in repelling an Empire legion. Emeria let her imagination run free, though not free of envy. Hearing a firsthand account of the event was better than any rumor she'd heard on her way to Arcaeus —almost like hearing Lady Sar'tara's stories again. It was, though, easy to tell which parts were exaggerated. Elizia downplayed her blunders and puffed out her chest when speaking of the ships she managed to capture. "You make it sound so fun. I wish I could have my own adventures."

"I… suppose there is a certain thrill," Elizia said. "A rush of adrenaline that can get you excited. Honestly, Emma, it was scary. We lost a over a hundred good men and several times that are recovering in the infirmary wards." She paused and twisted her mouth as if biting her inner cheek. "I took lives. Some of them never even got to see my face. And you're a swordsman…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Elizia shook her head. "I'm not demeaning you in any extent. I wasn't even on the frontlines and I found it frightening. I could see it, Emma. I could see the carnage at the van. The screams, the gore… It's not like how I imagined when hearing stories from mother."

Emeria wasn't buying it. Though, El did look a bit grim. She didn't press the topic. "What's it like having inherited your mother's name? Elizia the Huntress. Makes me jealous."

"No one here calls me that anymore. Father explicitly forbade it. Said it would put a target on my back."

Emeria frowned. Their joyous conversation had taken a wrong turn. She tried changing the subject again. "Is the Wolf around? I feel like I haven't stretched my limbs in ages. I want to spar again."

"You mean Commander Rask? I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you." Elizia led the way through the garrison's various halls, whistling, no longer hiding her mirth to be away from her tasks.

Emeria felt a wave of nostalgia as she walked through the fortress. Cramped as the corridors might seem now, they were massive to her as a child. The old grey walls held the fondest of her childhood memories. It was unfortunate, but her mapping competition with Elizia never had a conclusion. Emeria didn't bother bringing it up, fearing El was now much better acquainted with the fortress' interior than herself.

The two of them arrived at the duke's office to find Commander Jengard Rask and an elderly gentleman, seated before Kalin. Elizia cleared her throat. "Announcing the entrance of Emeria Lakris, First Princess and Royal Heir of Xenaria," she said sarcastically.

The announcement earned smiles from everyone but Kalin, who scowled. "Dearest daughter, I do believe you've tasks that need attending."

Elizia cringed, trying to shrink herself down to Emeria's level.

"One of the kitchen washboys has come down with a malady," the high lord waved. "See to it the kitchen staff are given the aid they need."

Emeria bit her tongue to stop from laughing. There were never a shortage of hungry bellies at the garrison. El's going to be washing dishes all day.

"It's good to see her highness again," the elderly man said. He was of milk-white hair and had a long and thin beard. He held a walking cane in one hand, though his figure was a large one matching Lord Kalin's, if only with slumped shoulders.

Emeria gave a terse bow. "Er, forgive me but I don't quite recognize you…"

"That's Lord Ravaya," Elizia whispered. "The grumpy old man from the small library on the second floor."

Ravaya? Ravager Ravaya from fifty years ago? That name was synonymous with histories dating back to Lord Kalin's grandfather. He has to be past eighty.

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"I'm not quite so old to have lost my hearing, Lady Serene," Ravaya said, his deep voice holding only a slight rasp come from age. He stood slowly, leaning on his cane and shuffling toward the door. "Do excuse me. I've my books to return to."

Emeria frowned at the scars crossing the man's cheeks as he passed. "Is that the scary scar man?" she whispered to Elizia. The both of them had once caused a scene in the second floor library when they were about ten years of age.

"The same," Elizia said.

Rask began to rise as well, his expression one of exhaustion. "If you'll excuse me Lord Serene, I should be off soon to escort my daughters back home. They'll be wanting to see their mother again."

Emeria waited long enough for Rask to have walked past her. She then jumped onto his massive back and clung on as if she were a child. "Rask, fight me! Please, please, please? I'm sooo bored. You're not afraid are you? I'll tell everyone you're afraid if you say no!"

Kalin chuckled. "It's like you have a third daughter, Jengard."

Rask let out a long sigh. "Just what I wanted to avoid."

The Wolf had three children of his own, Emeria knew. A son entering adulthood and two twin daughters that would be in their early teens about now. They lived in a village a few dozen miles north of Metsiphon. "Your daughters are here?" she asked.

"They're apprenticing as physics," Kalin explained. "With all due respect your highness, you've only just arrived. Perhaps resting and postponing your spars until Rask returns."

Emeria stuck her tongue out at him, giggling at his shocked expression.

Elizia's mouth twitched, but she didn’t say anything. She followed Rask down the many stairs and outside as he walked to an open courtyard, Emeria still riding on his back. The garrison's soldiers didn't seem to care about the odd sight. They kept their eyes glued to the floor and gave courteous bows as Rask walked by. Afraid of Rask, or are they men I bested in duels two years ago?

Emeria finally jumped off and stared at a rack of training weapons. The only thing remotely matching her thin sword was a blunt cutlass.

"Daddy, are we leaving now?" a feminine voice asked from behind.

Emeria turned to see two girls wearing the plain blue garb of the garrison. They both had dark hair and heart shaped faces, rosy cheeks and lips a lush pink. "There is no way those are his daughters," Emeria whispered to Elizia.

"I thought the same," Elizia said.

Rask chose a thick two-handed broadsword from the weapon rack, waving the weapon with his wrist as if it weighed no different than a knife. The same weapon Azurus wielded. "Soon," he told his daughters. "Unfortunately our esteemed First Princess has demanded a sparring match with me. And you, Elizia," he said turning, "were ordered to the kitchens I do believe."

Elizia grumbled a curse. "Good luck," she mumbled, stalking off.

Emeria felt her heartrate ramp up. The hilt of the cutlass felt strange in her hands. It was slightly larger than her own sword. Rask's daughters approached her. Emeria flinched back, expecting snobbery or even a veiled insult from all her time spent in high society with noblewomen full of pride.

The two girls curtsied. "Your highness," they said in unison. They had an odd country accent. They regarded Emeria with wide eyes as if she were a piece of expensive jewelry to be ogled at.

"Er, sorry for stealing your father," Emeria said.

"Not at all," the rightmost girl said, smiling.

"It's the princess. It's actually Princess Emeria," the second said in a hushed tone full of awe."

Was she worth that much attention, Emeria wondered, scratching her head. Right. Most peasants go their entire lives only hearing of the High Lords and the Queen. They don't usually get to meet them. It said much about Rask, rising to his current station from peasant status. Yet for some odd reason he did not move his family to a better home in Metsiphon despite his current wealth. "Could I have your names?"

"Corina."

"Eleen."

Emeria nodded. She undid her cloak and handed it Corina, who regarded it like one would precious pet, folding it neatly and caressing its velvet surface with a careful gentleness.

Eleen, the more gutsy of the two, rushed to Emeria's side. "Might I bind your hair for you, your highness?" she asked, very eager.

Emeria nodded, relieved at how at home she felt with these girls.

Eleen tied the long golden mass with relative experience. "Daddy took an arrow to his left thigh sometime during early winter," she whispered, with a mischevious grin. "Barely a scratch so far as I've heard. Probably Healed by now, but something to remember."

Emeria nodded, returning the smile. The twins backed away, standing at the edge of the courtyard. Curiously, Emeria spotted Elizia running around gathering a crowd of soldiers to spectate rather then head for the kitchens. Emeria felt her cheeks color as she stared after El. Both girls were wearing similar trousers, but El's were more of a tight fit due to her well trained muscles. Emeria found herself feeling a pang of jealousy at her friend's admirable figure. Maybe it was a good thing Azurus wasn't here. He did have a habit of ogling at the Second Princess' mother in the past.

Rask shook his head as an audience began to form. He scowled at Elizia as she gave a wave and disappeared.

"Afraid of losing?" Emeria mocked. She approached the courtyard's center, feeling more confident now.

"Your highness is talented," Rask said. "I don't mind a loss. I would, however, mind the potential effect it would have on the soldiers' morale if they see their Commander losing. I'm afraid I won't be holding back if you're going through the trouble of gathering a crowd." He scratched his unshaven chin. Something he did when he was nervous.

Emeria flashed her most charming smile. "Isn't it expected for the student to surpass their teacher? Please hold your defeat with pride, Commander. Look at it like this. The soldiers will be all the more inspired to learn that their future queen is both beautiful and strong! Also, your daughters are totally in my camp."

The large man bellowed. "Those are some big words for before the fight's even begun. Don't tell me you've forgotten all those times Lady Sar'tara allowed me to put you and Elizia over my knee when you two acted out of line. You're still just a child in my eyes, your highness. Hardly any different than my own mischievous daughters," he said, taking a brief glance at the twins.

Emeria's temper flared. She took a readied stance. The ground had been trampled upon, grass bits embedded into loamy soil not yet fully dried. Both Azurus and Rask were much bigger than her. And they used that to their advantage. They would use her lack of training against her to tire her out. She wasn't going to let that happen this time. Emeria stood still as the match began. She waited for her opponent to make the first move. Rask seemed amused at her patience. She would normally charge in without a second's thought.

"Pardon the intrusion, your highness," Rask said, stepping forward. "But if you won't move, then I will."

Come on then. I'm ready this time. Or so she thought. The Wolf closed the distance faster than she'd anticipated. She barely managed to parry a wide horizontal swing. Her reflexes had dulled. Emeria stumbled back several feet, barely staying standing. A dull and painful vibration ran along her arms —which were a fraction the size of Rask's. The impact had chipped the edge of her weapon. Such monstrous strength…

"Patience and hesitation are two different things. You refused to charge me because you believed you had a plan. Because we've sparred before and you know how I will fight to defeat a more nimble opponent like yourself. It's good to think things through. But you need to be capable of making split second decisions, your highness. The field is no place for overthinking. You hesitated. That was your error. You're better than that. Imagine all possibilities and be prepared to react accordingly. Now, come at me like you mean it!" he roared.

Imagine all possibilities. He almost sounds like Grand Chamberlain Finral. Emeria shook her head. Rask was the one who didn't originally want to spar. It was as if he had a completely different personality when holding a sword in his hands. Any nervousness she'd sensed had disappeared entirely.

Emeria was grateful for the lesson. She gathered her resolve and crouched low, getting ready to lunge. "Thanks for the advice. Don't regret not having beaten me while I was hesitating!" She fluttered around him, lunging in bursts with her toes and fitting in small strikes when seeing an opening. All of them were parried. But she was only getting started. Her feet began shuffling faster. Her movements grew ever more graceful. They remembered. Her body remembered all that she'd taught it. Her arms moved in synchrony to her legs. She twisted on her heels, spinning to avoid attacks while prodding with short burst thrusts just as a fencer. Emeria fell into a trance as the rhythm came back to her. As music echoed through the depths of her mind as it echoes along the walls of a vibrant ballroom.

"That's… more like it," Rask said as he struggled to keep up with her speed. His breathing was getting heavier.

Emeria knew that she'd be at a disadvantage soon. Her opponent wasn't the only one who was tiring. She tried hiding her own quick breaths. Her lungs began to burn. Her lack of training showed as the music in her mind faded away. Her legs grew heavy as if weighed by iron shackles.

Rask took the opportunity to go on the offensive. Emeria did her best to dodge his heavy attacks. He was fast despite his size. And his swordsmanship, while crude compared to hers, graceful still in the eyes of most others.

It wasn't long before Emeria found herself completely on the back foot. All she could do was sidestep Rask's swings. He raised his longsword above his head and brought it down in a vertical arc with a heavy attack that could probably kill, knowing that Emeria would easily move out of the way. Such an attack left his torso wide open. Emeria raised her arm to attack but Rask did something she didn't expect. He let go of his weapon and swept his massive hand sideways, pushing Emeria off of her feet before she could react.

She fell on her rear but didn't let that dissuade her. She used the opportunity to roll back to gain distance and stand up once again. Rask had anticipated this. He had already picked up his fallen longsword and was charging towards her again. Emeria ducked beneath a one armed swing aimed at her neck, leaving herself wide open to getting kicked square in the gut. She had full confidence that Rask wouldn't dare kick Xenaria's First Princess. She began rising, seeing her path to victory. A short thrust towards the base of his throat. There was no chance of him dodging back in time with his arm outstretched and body off balance. She would stop her blade just short of his neck.

But it wasn't to be.

A heavy boot struck her in the gut. She fell back, coughing. Emeria opened her eyes to see the tip of the longsword pointed at her face. "Never make assumptions in a battle. Only act on certainty."

"You kicked me! You actually kicked me!" she complained. She pouted, feeling a deep sense of annoyance at the dirt on her clothes and a deeper sense of annoyance at her loss. Rask's twins began booing their father from the side. They made faces and Emeria too, like the proper noblewomen she was, stuck her tongue out at him.

"I kicked you to teach you a lesson. Come now. The ground is no place for a princess."

"You put me there," she mumbled. "Carry me to the infirmary. I'm exhausted. And hurt. Hurt inside. You really kicked me." Emeria crossed her arms, still sitting on her rear. Rask sighed and picked her up.

"You're terrible, father," Corina said, still holding Emeria's blue cloak.

"Yeah. Terrible. I'm going to tattle to Lord Kalin. You kicked our princess."

Rask sighed. "Where's our young knight? Shouldn't Azurus be carrying you?"

Emeria puffed her cheeks and turned her head, playing every part of a spoiled girl. "He was dismissed somewhere," she grumbled.

Rask looked away. "Dismissed? Hmm. Well, if anyone can take care of themselves, it's him," he mumbled.

Emeria narrowed her eyes, studying him. Rask seemed to know something more on the matter than she did. But she couldn't ask anything. Not yet anyway. She was still upset after all.