Lordrin’s POV

Some good news. Forya would be forced to keep her mouth shut for some time; the raiding parties had proved successful.

It had been determined that several small parties would be sent out, prioritizing quickly leaving with what they came for rather than wasting time and lives on winning each little skirmish. Those lives could be put to more use on Gresha’s defense and her fields. Despite this, around three sacrifices were still collected… as well as one curious war trophy. It was a shame that more could not be brought, but the rains had left the Wastelands filled with muck and mud, which made pursuing fleeing Angrans difficult.

The squad headed by the leader of the Greshan Army, Menone, my right hand in militaristic affairs, had curiously not brought in Angran savages though. Rather, they had captured a flock of wayward sheep. Upon hearing this, I laughed and demanded Menone accept a reward for his insightfulness. Though I had not explicitly ordered this, I would be a fool to turn away another source of food to rely upon during the Sun Season. My one and only concern would be pastures for grazing these beasts. Ah, well—perhaps we could simply slaughter them quickly and preserve their remains with sea salt?

I was surprised when Menone denied capturing the flock as having been his own idea. He carefully explained that one of the soldiers under his command had had the idea, after impulsively killing the sacrifice they had captured. Menone was more one for brawns than brains, but he brought this up cautiously, as though testing for my reaction.

“If you’d like, I can allow you to meet this soldier and punish him for his disobedience,” he said hesitantly.

I chuckled. “Punish? I’m not so cruel as to stomp out my most promising soldiers’ ideas. Had he risked his comrades on a silly quest for glory, that would be another matter, entirely, but no. From how you tell it, there was little risk and great reward. It’s a shame there was no sacrifice from your group, but you brought back something more valuable than the other parties did. You may bring him here for congratulations, if you wish, but corporal punishment is quite unnecessary.”

Even more fortunately, Forya was kept busy by festival preparations, and would be for the upcoming weeks. Just as well, I had plenty of my own duties keeping me busy, as I foresaw all the palace and city’s preparations. We had to do our best to impress visiting foreign visitors and ambassadors, after all, and ensure an alliance with us remained an attractive offer.

Still. Despite my business, I made sure to keep an eye on other matters as well…

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Nania’s POV

Recovering in the infirmary was a bizarre limbo of relief and frustration. Though Forya and the other Candidates could not bother me here, slowly I was filled with the growing urge to do something. A lightning energy that led to a return to my old habit of chewing my fingernails, playing with my hair, and occasionally even scratching at my arms.

It was a relief, though, that despite my...uncharacteristic fumble, my excursions outside the city hadn’t been noticed or investigated. The last thing I wanted was to bring undue suspicion down on Elian—or worse, Talon. Gresha’s authorities may be disappointed with Elian, but they would be awful to Talon. And that was to say nothing of my fellow Candidates. I knew some of the more ambitious ones were quite ‘competitive’, but those ones had always disregarded me as a non-threat. Would they re-evaluate what they thought if me, if they believed I was conspiring with Angrans? Elians’ fellow soldiers would surely re-evaluate what they thought of him. And even if we all evaded being caught… I had enough to worry about, with them both regularly participating in battles, if I was ever the reason one was badly hurt, or even…

But they weren’t. Not this time. It was okay, it was okay. While being under heavy watch meant no one could mess with me, for now, it also meant I should avoid meeting with them for some time. Even if I really wanted to. Sometimes it felt like those two were the only people who really cared for me in the whole world. For me, as Nania, not just what I could be if I ‘applied myself’ to become an official Priestess. I wasn’t like the other Candidates. Duty was a nebulous, amorphous concept I couldn’t bring myself to care for. Promises of prosperity and luxury were unappealing to me, when they were off in some vague future, even as that future apparently drew closer. To me, even the most mundane and dull life would be fine, if it was by the side of someone who cared for me.

In truth, I was not as bothered by my fall as perhaps I should have been. It disturbed me, certainly, but it did not haunt me like other worries did. It wasn’t the first time other Candidates had messed with me while obscuring their identities. But because I was a poor student and unambitious, it never went beyond messing with me, never became a true danger to my health and life. This didn’t seem like something they were responsible for, and thus wasn’t something that would repeat. There was no reason for them to target me. Jostling me so I dropped my food or the practice tablet I was working on, staining my dresses with mud when they were hung out to dry, these were the sorts of things they did…

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The truth was, I wanted to leave this city for a good reason. If the other Candidates were behind this, then this may have been the first time they’d made an attempt to seriously hurt me, but somehow it didn’t seem like a surprise. Instead it merely felt...inevitable. A series of roads which would have led here eventually.

Perhaps Talon’s lessons in fighting had boosted my confidence somewhat? Perhaps, if something like this happened again, the next time I would be ready.

But that didn’t change the fact that, stuck here, I still felt trapped. They were not allowed in, and I was excused from any duties in preparing for the Harvest Festival, but… I felt like I should be doing something. Like I had enough energy to run a lap around Gresha city, even while my ankle was twisted. And so to deal with that manic energy, I fell back into my old habits.

Over the course of a few weeks, however, my injuries began healing, and I just couldn’t stay in bed any longer. But I also was not sure how far I could push myself, so instead I made a compromise with my body. I returned to practicing the Flame Arts Talon had taught me, but restricted myself to only the stances, and some very slowed down movements. As I felt stronger, I steadily sped up the movements. After five years of practicing with Talon on and off, even if I still lacked his skill and strength, I at least felt confident in my ability to perform the moves on my own like this, outside a battle scenario. I could easily get lost in the moves so like a dance, the wild energy within finally calming down. It quickly became a routine to practice these moves on my own for a little while every day, one I was excited to return to now that my body had healed enough.

But perhaps I was too excited and too focused. Usually, I could somewhat keep track of the time and avoid anyone walking in on me. But this time, someone did.

Even worse, that someone was the King of Gresha. I...the healers had told me that he was the one to bring me to the infirmary, and I knew he had still been keeping an eye on me since then. But, still, I didn’t expect him to come now! Maybe I should have.

My heart stopped. Then it abruptly restarted and flung itself towards the back of my ribcage, dragging me back so I sat on the bed before my legs gave out. The Crown-Son looked down on me with his smirk, somewhere between arrogant and regal. My palms were sweating, no matter how I tried to wipe them clean against the bed. Crowding my mind were thoughts of the first and only time I met the Crown-Son, of my outings with Elian and Talon—but there was no way he knew about them, right? He was intelligent, but not a mind reader...unless, as Crown Naruune’s son, she told him secret things like that, oh no, he knows, he knows—no, he wouldn’t know! If he knew he’d have ordered the guards to drag me to the prisons! This wasn’t his first meeting with me, regardless. This was likely simply a routine checkup to observe my healing process, being one of his Priestesses; even if I was only a Candidate for now.

“What was that you were doing when I walked in?” he asked, as innocent as a god’s child could ever be.

Oh stars above and below, he knows he knows he knows he’s playing mind games with me—

“Just something I—I mean something I was making up!” I babbled, slamming down into a semi-bowing pose from the bed.

He tilted his head, his styled auburn locks shifting slightly. There was a soft chime from the jewelry adorning them. “Is that so? What was it, if I may ask? It looked very...interesting.”

“Oh, just—some nonsense experimenting I wanted to keep secret—I mean, because—”

“Why would you want to keep it as a secret?” Was it just me, or did his green eyes seem to stare straight through me? My mouth was so dry, as I licked my lips, trying to wet my tongue into words.

“W-well—I-i just think the temple-approved forms of Channeling are boring, please don’t tell the Head Priestess!” I pleaded.

To my surprise, the Crown-Son did not probe further with his questions, neither did he admonish me. Instead he began to chuckle. Slowly, cautiously, I raised my head. He gave me what I believe he meant as a comforting smile, though it still held an air of arrogance.

“Worry not, Candidate. Unlike the Head Priestess, I am not one to hold fast to traditions which only hold us back.” He gestured with a hand and made a bored expression as he spoke, the jewelry around his ankles tinkling as he moved. “The teachings of the past are many and wise, but is it not better to learn from and improve upon Crown Naruune’s teachings? After all, she passes them down through word and language, rather than carved stone.”

“Y...yes! My thoughts exactly, you’re always so wise, Crown-Son!” I agreed thoughtlessly, merely relieved there would be no admonishments, and that he didn’t seem to recognize the style as Angran. It made me feel sick, having to talk about the Flame Arts with him at all. Before, it had been an escape from Gresha, something shared between only me and my two...friends. Something that made me feel safe and confident.

I didn’t feel either of those things right now. But hopefully lying and saying it was something I just made up would be enough to protect it—I’m sure Talon would understand.

But still...now that I had his attention on me, I couldn’t just tell aimless lies, nor could I contradict myself. If I wanted to keep him from discovering Talon, I had to tell him something he’d accept, something he’d want to hear, and not poke and prod at… for once, I had to control my blabbering mouth.

“So, tell me more about this new channeling method of yours, Candidate Nania,” the Crown-Son said. “As you, being a priestess, should know, each method of channeling has its benefits, even if pure storytelling is considered the ‘highest and purest’ form. But yours looked like it could even be used while fighting…” He smiled like a cruel angel, and said, “Perhaps if you impress me, I’ll even have a special task for you.”

I gulped, and against my better judgment, began to talk.