7 - Promise

24th Year, 3rd Month, Spring

Few records remain of her early ascensions, for they were consigned to conflagration and stricken from the chronicles upon the system’s mantle. Nary a soul privy to the truth would dare for it to part from their lips, for while it was renowned that she achieved her third by the spring of her tenth year, she bore no tales of heroism, no memoirs to inspire her adherents down the path of the wartorn.

To know that it was only through the most grisly and wicked schemes that she lined up her kills was to know the silently forbidden. And to invoke the blasphemous fragment of sagacity was to beg judgement from the tip of her blade.

Scriptures of the Savage Gods, Verse 17-6

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My sixth opponent appeared almost as soon as the fifth collapsed. I had hardly taken a dozen steps before he drove his blade in the ground, just half a metre from my location. The man in question appeared with only a moment’s delay. He fell from the ceiling, flipping his body midair before landing on his feet.

Like the goddess, he was more mechanical than not. And like the goddess, his shape was that of a spider. It was primarily in the extent of their arachnid form that they differed.

Vella was like a centaur. She had most of a spider’s body, with only the head missing and replaced by an additional torso mapped with humanoid traits. The warrior spirit before me was far more animalistic. He was effectively an arachnid with six human-like arms growing out of his head and a pair of simian legs sprouting from his belly.

The metal that made up his frame was not as impressive. It lacked all the intricate detail featured by the goddess’ form, and though it was well-polished, it was precisely its gleam that made it look so cheap in comparison.

“He is Alpha, the terror of the boundless grove, known for driving its guardians to near extinction. He pillaged their harvest, orchestrating their fall to such an extent that the goddess of the harvest was driven to action. She armed her men with blessed weapons and forcibly ascended them to greater heights. But even then, they were defeated.” A laugh escaped her lips. “With my blessing, he overcame every enemy that was thrown at him, stopping only as the goddess descended upon the mortal plane herself and demanded a negotiation. She created for him the perfect mate, an ideal being that quelled the pure rage the terror embodied. And it was through that which he was eventually destroyed. Her people used his affection to target his partner and forced him to sacrifice himself in her stead. Now, he has chosen to challenge you to see if you are capable of the same resolve.”

The spider jumped into action. His legs detached as he launched himself into the air and became a wave of blades. They made for my chest, my arms, my back, my legs, my torso, and my face. Each individual weapon was enchanted with an entirely different property. There were runes to enhance penetration and damage, spells to add fire, wind, and water, as well as a whole slew of other effects I couldn’t understand or intuit.

But I had already split him in half by the time he crossed the distance between us.

The cathedral was gone by the time I blinked. I was standing in front of a mirror, carefully adjusting the raven-black tie that went with my similarly coloured suit. It was a set of formal wear that I didn’t quite recognize; the floral emblem adorning the chest pocket was that of Primrose’s church, marking it as a quality item made from cotton harvested from the boundless grove—a location some three thousand kilometres past our southernmost border.

It was a scene that could only have stemmed from the future. In Cadria, such items were ridiculously expensive and took months if not years to tailor. I had only become capable of affording them somewhat recently, and even then, I had always dismissed them as a waste of my hard-earned funds. I couldn’t even begin to imagine a world where I would wear them, let alone fuss over my appearance and scent. There was no reason. Everyone knew who I was, and everyone knew exactly how I presented myself.

And yet, there I was, standing in front of the mirror, stressing over a choice between two angles with half a degree’s difference between them.

When I eventually left it alone and raised my eyes, I found that it was not just my clothes that had changed. My antlers had grown more intricate, their size even more exaggerated than my already intrusive pair. My arms were longer, my legs were thicker, and my wings had vanished. It was certainly more convenient—my tuxedo fit more readily without the large flappy limbs, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop fidgeting. Even though I had already grown accustomed to my changed appearance.

I looked myself over in the mirror one last time, checking everything from my neatly combed hair to my freshly shaven beard before taking a breath and opening the door.

“How do I look?” I asked.

Cleveland, my butler, carefully examined me with his hand on his chin.

“Not too bad. You probably could’ve done with a bit of a haircut, but I wouldn’t call it a problem. I’m sure she’ll be pleased with what she sees.”

“Thanks.” I took a deep breath. If he said it was fine, then it probably was. He knew better than to hold back his criticisms, especially when they were necessary.

Still on the verge of hyperventilating, I slowly walked down the hall and then the stairs, practically shaking in anticipation. I was so distracted that I saw almost none of my surroundings. My eyes were fixed on the table just outside the great hall. Both of the things I prepared were sitting directly atop it.

One was a beautiful necklace adorned with an amethyst shaped like a flower, while the other was a small dagger engraved with the family crest. Technically, it was an heirloom, not the sort of object meant for what I was about to do. All the servants that knew my intentions had objected. Some had even called their connections, who further begged me to reconsider. But I had no intention of changing my plans. My heart was set.

Just as it was in the present.

I tucked the items into my pocket, approached the door, and swung it wide open with a ludicrous bounce in my step.

Etiquette dictated that I ought to have stayed calm and remained within the building. Ideally, I should have waited in my study, the great hall, or the foyer at the very least. Rushing out to greet the guests was a childish act unbefitting my position. But I didn’t care. The only reason they remained attached to their hinges was because I had learned from my prior mistakes.

My heart leapt into my throat as the carriage rolled to a stop. I could see her silhouette through the window, her giggling ringing pleasantly through my ears as she found me waiting.

She did not immediately disembark.

She waited until her guards and her mother had taken their turns descending before she inched out the door. Probably because of the kick she got out of making me wait.

My breath was stuck in my throat, just as it was every time I saw her.

My eyes followed her form, tracing each of her movements as she slithered down from the coach. I extended my hand and helped her to the ground.

It was an awkward motion, but I performed it with practiced grace.

Even by lamian standards, she was a tiny little thing, spanning six metres from head to tail. Were length the only measurement, I would have been only a tiny bit larger. But she barely stood at a third of my height. Her dainty frame was barely as thick as my arm. And yet, I struggled to take all of her in at once.

It was impossible to focus. In one moment, I would find myself enamoured by the lovely, sweet scent wafting from her hair, but in the next, I would find my attention stolen by her glimmering, regal scales. And then, just before I could fully process their sheen, my eyes would be dragged to her tiny ears, her muscular tail, her disproportionate chest, and finally her dazzling features before the cycle started anew.

I almost couldn’t explain my attraction.

It didn’t make sense.

She was a snake, and I was a moose. The only features we had in common were our humanoid torsos. And even then, the details were hardly in line. I had no reason to be awestruck by the scales scattered across her upper body, let alone the particularly large pair that sat on each of her cheeks. Her ears stood in direct conflict with Cadrian beauty standards—we liked ours big, and I’d always thought that I felt the same as everyone else.

And yet, there I stood.

Like a frog before a witch, I was simply enchanted.

She chuckled and lightly pulled her arm back as she observed me in my stupor. “I do appreciate your assistance, Lord Augustus, but there is hardly a need to continue holding my hand.”

I could feel my cheeks burning as I finally recognized my complete and utter lack of motion. Everyone was staring. My staff members were cradling their heads. Her mother was far from satisfied, and while Esmeralda—her green-scaled guard—was mostly nonchalant, the other shot me the most scornful look she could. It didn’t come as a surprise. Camellia had always hated me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she drew her sword and challenged me then and there.

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And yet, in spite of all the unwanted attention, I found my focus stuck on Violet’s hand.

Every time I saw—touched—it, I felt myself impressed by its outlandish lack of size. Rather than taking my whole hand, as would a lady of my species, she was stuck with just two of my fingers.

“You must pardon me, Princess. It is only on the rare occasion that I am presented with the opportunity to lay eyes on a lady so lovely.” I spoke in a stiff, formal tone, befitting the otherwise perfectly cold expression on my glowing red face.

She smiled, her blush almost as bright as mine. “Then I suppose I have little choice but to forgive and forget. I will allow you this transgression, Lord Augustus.”

It was the usual nonsense—an exchange almost identical to the one that we had every time we met. We weren’t fooling anyone. Even if my face was frozen, even if she put on airs, our feelings were laid bare. Everything, everything was clear as day.

And that was why her guard and guardian were present, to keep watch over us to ensure that no lines were crossed, and that everything that was done could just as readily be reversed. I knew what their duty was and I understood it full well.

But on that particular day, I had no intention of complying.

“Violet,” I tightened my grip on her hand, “can we speak in private?” and dropped all semblance of courtesy.

She blinked at me, perhaps not expecting the sudden shift. We didn’t normally break character lest we were left alone.

“In private?” She narrowed her eyes and twisted her lips into a playful grin.

Her mother—a snake-lady with a set of wine-red scales—turned pale and gasped. “I-in private!? That’s preposterous! How dare you suggest something so salacious!”

“You dare!? I will have your head before you lay a finger on my lady’s body!” As expected, I gave Camellia the excuse she needed to draw her weapon. “Get your hands off her, right this moment!”

They screeched at the top of their lungs, but I ignored them until I suffered an attack. The angry, pink-haired guard closed the distance between us and brought her blade to my knees, so I lightly flicked my foot and sent her flying into the castle wall.

“And what, precisely, is it that you plan to do to me in private?” asked Violet, as she watched Camellia slowly climb from the rubble. The knight was uninjured. I had only given her the lightest of kicks.

“Just a little something that’d have your guards throwing a fit,” I said.

Violet laughed. Oh, how I loved that laugh.

“Esmeralda probably won’t mind,” she said. I was inclined to agree. The knight in question was watching with her eyes sparkling up a storm. “But you’ll need to pull all the stops if you want to lose Camellia,” she said, also doing away with her unnecessary etiquette. “She’s a lot quicker than she looks.”

“Maybe. But she’s still not as quick as me.”

I flashed my teeth, twisting my lips into a rare smile as I hoisted the lady onto my back.

“Oh, no you do not! Release her! Violet, get down from there right this instant!” shouted her mother.

She tried to charge me as well, so I grabbed her by the face. Holding her at arm’s length, I waited for Violet to secure her position before kicking off the ground and taking to the sky.

My wings manifested in midair. They weren’t the same ones that I had in the present. The brilliant white plumes had been dyed a shade of red, and they were no longer physically attached. They floated just a little bit off my body, far enough away that they didn’t bother my ride, but their function was unchanged. Flapping them felt no different than it did when they still touched my frame. The only discrepancy I could call to question was the force of each motion. Perhaps because there were four instead of the two I was used to, I didn’t have to flap as hard to keep my body suspended.

“You ascended again,” she said. “And here I thought you were just in rut.” She slithered up the length of my back and ran her fingers down the length of my antlers.

The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, but I didn’t mind it much at all.

“You’d let a man in rut take you wherever he pleases?”

“Not another man.” She stuck out her tongue. Her long, forked tongue. “But I know you wouldn’t dare, Virillius, not if it made me hate you.”

“Would it?”

“Maybe. Who’s to say?” With another laugh, she wrapped her tail around the base of my neck and maneuvered around to face me. My cheeks cupped in her hands, she flicked her tongue as she looked me up and down. “Certainly not the coward too afraid to claim his prize.”

I was, admittedly, a little flustered. She caught me off guard and dyed my face bright red again, but it didn’t take long for me to recover. “Now you’re just messing with me.”

“A little.”

I pressed a finger against her forehead and gently pushed her away. “I can’t see where I’m going with you up in my face like that.”

“I don’t really see how that matters. You’ve probably got the route memorized already. I’d be willing to bet my chastity that you’ve gone through it a hundred times in your head, and maybe another ten times in person.”

“I’m not really sure your chastity is something you should be betting so readily.”

“I don’t see the harm. You’d be too much of a Flacidius to take it even if it were presented on a silver platter, all wrapped up in lingerie.”

“Shut it.” Smiling, I captured her in my arms, and squeezed just hard enough to restrict her mobility.

“Guards! Help! I’m being overpowered by a brute!” she cried, jokingly.

“Knock that off.” We were only a few hundred metres up. “Half the town is going to hear you.” Cottontails—the bipedal, metre-tall rabbits that made up roughly four-tenths of Cadria’s population—had incredibly sensitive ears. With the volume she was shouting at, they could no doubt hear her loud and clear.

“That’s the point,” she said. “If something really does happen, everyone will think it’s your fault.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” I said, with yet another sigh. “Nothing untoward, at least.”

“So something is going to happen then?” Her lips were twisted into a teasing smile.

“You’ll see in a moment,” I said. “We’re almost there.”

I pumped my wings, carrying us over the town’s southernmost wall and into the forest beyond it. We cruised along at a reasonable speed, moving just slowly enough to maintain a fair level of comfort. Even then, it only took about a minute to reach our destination.

We soon found ourselves gazing upon a beautiful field in a small clearing. It was filled with vibrant, blooming flowers—violets I had planted myself.

“Really, Virillius?” She started to laugh as soon as she saw it, her cheeks red and her arms clutching her sides. “This is the corniest thing you could have possibly thought of.”

“Well it’s working, isn’t it?” I lowered my gaze and hid my own crimson cheeks as I landed amidst the flowers.

“Maybe.” She wrapped her arms around my back with some difficulty. My chest was too wide for them to extend past my sides. “Thank you. They’re wonderful.”

She slithered off my back and into the field. The smile on her face was soft. I had to fight the urge to grab her and hold her in my arms.

“So? What’s the occasion? Don’t tell me you’re going to ask me to marry you.” She raised her eyes from the field, her own eyes widening as she found me frozen in place. “Seriously?”

I didn’t deign her with a response. Silent as a ghost, I reached into my chest pocket and presented the knife marked with my family’s crest.

Her face flushed. She flapped her mouth open and closed like a fish before twisting her lips into a bashful smile.

I already knew her answer. I could see it in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Virillius. But I can’t.”

And yet, my heart still sank when she pushed my hand away.

“I just can’t.”

“I know,” I said, quietly.

I’d hoped for her to choose me over her duty. But I couldn’t complain. I would have done the same.

“The people would never approve of a fruitless union like ours. Not with the political climate as it is, and not with the duty I have yet to do.” She toyed with the necklace I’d prepared. I hadn’t the slightest clue as to when or how she managed to sneak it out of my pocket, but it didn’t really matter. It was meant to be hers. “We wouldn’t have long, even if I said yes.” Her lips fell into a wistful smile. “Sthenia will declare war on Cadria in three weeks.”

I bit my lips. “I don’t care what people think.”

“It will involve harming your name.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She took my thumb in her hands and squeezed it. “I’ll be waiting atop the ivory tower. Conquer those who guard it, without alerting them in advance, and there’ll be no one left to even think of objecting.”

I nodded. I nodded and clenched my fists.

“Oh, and Virillius? One more thing.”

“What?”

When I looked at her again, I found her lips marked with a devilishly playful smile.

“I love you.”

The memory began to fade before I could see or hear my reaction.

But I already knew what it was.

My future self was stupefied.

Just like I was at present.

I stood stock still with my face perfectly frozen and my heart pounding. The sensation wrought by the rejection still lingered. I could feel the aching in my chest, haunting me, stopping my breath in my throat. It was so fiery it burned. It was so light it fluttered.

I simply didn’t know what to do with the vision but pray that it would not be a delusion.

Because in the end, she had still accepted me.

I wanted—needed—nothing more than to assure her that our union was not as fruitless as we had believed. But I kept silent. I waited for my foe to become a long metal skirt before turning my eyes to the goddess and tightening my grip on my blade.

“Calm yourself, Virillius.” Vella’s stare was somewhere between cold and exasperated. Either way, she was clearly upset with my lack of control.

I knew that it was justified. Allowing Violet to occupy my mind was nothing if not disrespectful. The task at hand was one that would decide my future; the goddess’ evaluation would determine the precise shape of my ascension. And yet, there I was, goofing off on account of one of the visions she had shown me.

I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop my heart from pumping at thrice its usual speed.

Perhaps recognizing that, the goddess didn’t even bother with conversation. Simply breathing a sigh, she shook her head and sank back into her chair.