Corbyn Evershade was many things. Warrior, Hunter, Scholar and Mage. But a ladies man? Not really, no. Only a few casual flings when he was lonely, and then his long relationship with Anya that had ended all too soon, and all because he was a stubborn idiot. Now, though?
I honestly can’t believe she actually wants to give this another shot. Wants to give… us another shot.
But he was glad that she did. It might mean that they weren’t so hopeless after all. Corbyn got ready with all the steady, nervous haste of a teenager. It had been a long time since his days going through puberty, but they were still quite vivid in his long memory. He had learned a lot since then; about the world, about Errenyl, about the Hunter Orders, about Magic, and most importantly in these last few decades, about himself.
And one of the things he had learned about, rather surprisingly, was that he quite liked being a teacher. It wasn’t something that he had really expected, but he truly did enjoy working with Damien to bring his talents to new heights. It was… fun. Surprisingly fun. Satisfying to see his student overcome his limits, and soar to heights that Corbyn had long since surpassed.
It was a truly humbling experience, to know that he had done right by someone in a way that went beyond violence and magic. Passing on his knowledge and experience so that his student wouldn’t have quite as hard a time as he once did.
He took his mind off of Damien as he prepared to pick up Anya. They’d had a long, long talk over the course of the intervening months, where both of them had apologized and apologized and confessed how lonely they felt until they had both broken down crying. After that, they had come to an agreement that it would be best if they waited until Damien had left for the Adventurer’s Trials before they decided to fully go on any kind of date, in order to give their relationship another shot.
Now that the time was here, Corbyn couldn’t help his nerves. His suit was well tailored to his Canis physique, the jacket colored black and embroidered with silvery trim at the hems and wrists, flaring out at the back in order to allow him room to maneuver. His suit pants were also done in similar coloration with the same silvery trim, with a pair of smooth, jet black dress shoes that made hardly a sound, thanks to his Stealth Skill. Well, what used to be his Stealth Skill. He wondered, idly, how far Damien was from Skill Convergence in his Way of the Night Wolf Skills?
Hopefully he gets it soon, Corbyn said. It was one of his hopes for the Traveler, that he would come to an understanding of how all of those Skills were connected. Still, he shook himself out of it, brushing at the formal beige tunic he wore beneath his jacket, still as pristine as they day he’d bought it. He and Anya had been looking forward to this day for well over a month now, and he wanted everything to be as perfect as it could be.
He glanced out the window, noting the current time as he continued to prepare. He had everything he needed in his Inventory Ring, even Nightfall, should he require a weapon, along with several throwing knives. Truth be told, he felt next to naked without any weapons on him; any seasoned Hunter of any of the Orders would, but he wasn’t planning on going on a monster hunting spree tonight. He was going to have a nice, peaceful night with his maybe-lover to see where they stood and, hopefully, who they would be to each other afterwards.
As the Arbiter continued to fuss over all the little details, and everything that might go wrong, there was a knock at his door. That was odd. No one really knew he was here, not even after the incident at the Hall of Ceremonies. That Shadow Wolf hadn’t lied about his discretion, and it seemed that no one had blown the whistle on where he was staying as of yet. Still, the Hunter was cautious, taking Nightfall out of his ring and priming his Mana to activate the magical sword. He took a glance through the spy hole of his front door, noting a figure who had come at the worst possible time.
With a dissatisfied grunt, Corbyn put NIghtfall back into his Inventory Ring and opened the door to the person who had decided to ‘honor’ him with his presence. Peter Solingrad was an Alloyan of the Brass persuasion. An unusual but strong people, his faux-gold skin simmered in the light of torches and Mana-Lamps alike, with a tall, well-muscled build and a relatively handsome face, if you liked pretty boys. He was still a foot shorter than Corbyn’s nearly seven feet of height, and wore casual clothes of muted beige, brown and grey. It seemed that, unlike Corbyn, the Alloyan man had nothing to do that night and was seemingly coming over for a friendly chat.
The Canis knew better, even as the man gave him a reassuring smile and what seemed to be an awkward wave in greeting. Peter worked directly for the Administrator of the Steel Hunters. Though he had yet to even reach Templar in rank, he might as well have that authority.
“Hey there, man,” Peter said, his casual tone so well practiced that, if Corbyn wasn’t as experienced as he was, he might’ve believed it to be genuine. “Heard you were in town and felt like dropping by. Mind if have a quick chat?”
Corbyn sighed and acquiesced to the Alloyan’s request, letting him into his humble room at Fortune’s Rest. He then took up residence at Corbyn’s table, and put his feet up on it. That action annoyed the Canis to the point that he was ready to draw his sword and run the smug bastard through, consequences be damned, but he forced himself to let those emotions go.
Just as there were ten Arbiters, one for each of the ten Hunter Orders, who represented their absolute peak in martial and magical might, there were also ten Administrators who oversaw the day to day expenditures and activities of said Orders. Dawn, Flame, Thunder, Tempest, Quake, Wood, Tide, Steel, Rot, and Shade; they all abided by this system. And, as much influence as he had, he couldn’t exactly afford to piss off an Administrator. Especially one as mind bogglingly rich as the Administrator of Steel.
“What do you want, Peter? If you’re looking to find some kind of scandal here, I already told the Admins everything that could possibly constitute one. Unlike you, I’m not a stockpiling psycho.”
Peter was unperturbed by the jabs, likely because they were so commonplace to him by now. The fact that such insults had become commonplace was a testament to just how many people disliked him. He was a snitch, a backstabber, and all around shitty person. But he got results, and that was the only reason that they kept him around. Even then, it was only at the insistence of the Administrator of Steel. Corbyn knew full well that if Anya and Peter met, there was a non-zero chance that the latter would die. Anya took no shit from anyone. It was probably the main reason they hadn’t met yet.
“I’m here in regards to a certain former Arbiter,” the man said, spreading his hands as though helpless at the whims of his commanders. “You see, even though we have no reason to doubt your report on the incident, something just kept rubbing my Administrator the wrong way. So, of course, I was sent here to do a bit of digging on his behalf. So, here I am, trying to find a breadcrumb to a mystery that doesn’t really exist.”
Corbyn knew why Peter had actually been dispatched. To keep an eye on him and Anya. There was no other reason for someone so close to an Administrator to be anywhere near them otherwise. Because when two Arbiters met up somewhere outside the direct control of the Orders, people got… nervous. He couldn’t entirely blame them, given everything that had happened during The Fracture War, but he still thought that this was an undue breach of privacy.
“Well, as you can clearly see, there’s nothing of note happening here. So, if you’d kindly be on your way, I do have other things I would like to do before the day ends.”
“Oh, of course,” Peter said, waving his hand dismissively and pointedly not moving from his chosen spot. “But I think there might be some finer points we need to go over. For example… the fact that you were the only person who met with him before his untimely disappearance?”
Corbyn’s hackles rose at the silent insinuation in the Alloyan’s tone. Peter was good at getting reactions out of people, even if he wasn’t particularly subtle about it. When people were thrown off balance, they tended to reveal things under the duress of their own emotions that they wouldn’t reveal otherwise. Outrage was a heady and nearly inescapable drug. But Corbyn? He was just pissed.
He reached out to the Alloyan and picked him up bodily by the neck, slamming him into the wall with only the barest hint of his Strength. When Peter tried to speak up, likely in some attempt to try and rile him up further, he squeezed down on his neck hard enough to make the man audibly choke. Though the Alloyan was a talented Inquisitor Rank in his own Order, Corbyn Evershade was a mother fucking Arbiter. And Arbiters were chosen for one reason and one reason only. Sheer combat prowess and raw power. It seemed that, in all his years of feeling untouchable, Peter had forgotten the fact that he was far, far weaker than many of the people he spoke to. That was going to get him killed someday, and Corbyn would shed no tears when it finally happened.
“I’m going to make something incredibly clear to you, lapdog,” Corbyn said, tone cold and wholly neutral. It was almost a reflection of his default tone so many years ago, when he had been as brutal and ruthless as Peter in an entirely different fashion. “I don’t care for these baseless accusations you’re throwing at me. I don’t care for the fact that your Administrator is basically just using you as a mouthpiece to get across some kind of message. I don’t care for the fact that you all think I killed him. I sent in my report. You know what happened.”
“… but… it’s just… why would he interfere with an Awakening? It’s a low that no one would cross!”
Corbyn shrugged. It was incredibly taboo to interfere with an Awakening in any way for basically any reason. To do so would earn you a swift and lawful punishment up to and including death. There were different punishments for the crime the world over, and the punishment was particularly cruel in Carmina, but it was universal that any punishments for it would be severe.
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“Honestly, he should count himself lucky that the Shadow Wolf got to him before I did. Because if I had… well…
“Let’s just say that you’d all have a very vivid reminder of why I am one of the strongest Arbiters.”
He let Peter go from his grip, the Alloyan collapsing to the floor with a metallic thud. Corbyn stood over him as he gasped for breath, arms crossed in displeasure and dissatisfaction.
“Leave. And don’t come back until or unless you actually have something that requires my attention.”
Silently, the Alloyan sped out of his room, leaving the Arbiter to sigh and stretch. Truth be told, that might’ve been a dumb move to make. But, of course, the Administrator of Steel would have to come here himself to explain any displeasure he had with the proceedings. And He was far too much of a cowardly little shit to do that. the fact that he had managed to make it to the rank of Administrator astounded and amazed Corbyn in all the wrong ways.
Still, this wasn’t any of his concern. He had a date to be prepared for, and he should probably get moving to where Anya was saying. It wouldn’t them any good if he was late.
----------------------------------------
“You’re sure I’m not overdoing it or anything?” Anya asked like a nervous teenager, making Felicia wonder, not for the first time that night, whether or not she was really so experienced as she often claimed. She was, of course, there was no doubt of that, but it was like all of that experience had melted away at the appearance of that other Arbiter.
“I’m pretty sure you’d be able to impress basically anyone if you had nothing but a sack for clothing,” Felicia said, giving her mentor an up and down glance before shrugging. “If he’s not blown away by this, I’m gonna have to check whether or not he’s blind.”
Anya, of course, looked absolutely stunning. With a one shoulder dress colored sapphire blue, the skirt of it trailing out ever so slightly while still highlighting her curves in all the ways that mattered. Other than her silver Inventory Ring on her right hand, just below where the symbol of her Order had been emblazoned onto her skin, she also had on a slim silver chain with an equally slim pendant looped through it. Her face was flawless, lips painted a ruby red to match her hair, now combed and flowing down her back in a waterfall.
The Arbiter looked at the standing mirror she had pulled out for the occasion, twirling about this way and that to see herself from every angle. Felicia personally didn’t see anything wrong, but that didn’t stop Anya from fretting. “What if I chose the wrong color? Oh Spirits, what if we get attacked?! I might need to-”
“Anya!” Felicia said, taking her mentor by the shoulder and shaking her slightly. The Arbiter could probably atomize her with only a thought, but Felicia had gotten fairly comfortable with her mentor over the last few years. Especially as she was approaching level twenty five. “You look great. So have fun for once, alright? I know it’s been a bit of a pain, since you two have only met up when Rook and I spar, but just take the night for yourself and him, yeah?”
Anya can her a slightly shocked look before her lips pulled into a grateful smile. “Thank you. Sorry, I’m just… well, it’s been a long time, and I don’t want to mess anything up.”
Felicia just shrugged. Personally, she had taken a step away from dating anyone ever since Petra had cheated on her, but she was thinking about getting back into it soon. Maybe. It all depended on whether or not she found the right person, which probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Although…
No, Felicia, she thought, berating herself mentally. Don’t date your friend just because he’s cute. And nice. And funny. Nope. Can’t do that! Can’t potentially ruin one of the only stable and positive relationships in your life on the off chance that it might be fun to date them!
The Seraphite woman snapped back into reality when her mentor dashed to the window of her apartment, the smile on her face telling Felicia all that she needed to know. She opened the door and gave a playful gesture towards the outside. “Go on. Best not keep him waiting, yeah?”
Anya looked at her student with immediate gratitude, heading through the door and racing down the stairs, careful not to do anything that would mess up her look. Felicia smiled after her as she closed the door to her friend’s apartment, exiting the building at a much calmer pace than her mentor. It was honestly entertaining, seeing a different side to the red haired warrior. Fun too.
I suppose dating people doesn’t get any easier with age. Especially when you’re as invested as those two are in each other. Felicia let the thoughts drift through her mind as she walked through the streets of Lamora, letting the sounds of the city wash through her. Anya lived in a relatively middle class portion of the city, and had rented out that apartment she’d just left for so long that it was basically just her house now. The Seraphite loved walking here. This part of town had started to feel more like home than her actual home. Other than Regina’s, of course. And that cafe that she and Damien had been frequenting over the past few months, of course.
The young woman sighed, shaking her head from thoughts of her friend. She needed to cool off from… what she’d been thinking earlier. Besides, there were more important things for her to be focusing on than her love life. Or her lack of one, as had been the case for nearly two years.
“Oh, damn. I’m almost twenty one.”
The revelation had snuck up on her, her mind trailing through the months until she finally caught up to the thought that had sparked it. Huh. Only a couple months away from her birthday now. The last one before she could legally leave the royal household for good. There would be some big, blow off party, but it would be the last such celebration that she would ever have to deal with.
Of course, someone just had to come along at the worst possible time and exacerbate those feelings.
“Well well well,” a familiar, sultry and seductive voice said to her, causing a shiver to rise up her spine. Felicia turned towards it as they continued, the tone not changing in the slightest. “If it isn’t Felicia Daybreak, out in the city all alone. Someone might jump out and ravage you, dressed like that!”
The Seraphite woman sneered at the visage of her one of her elder sisters, Carinthia Daybreak. The family resemblance was clear, both in the tone of their dark skin and the sheen of their platinum hair and eyes.
That was where many of the resemblances ended, however. Carinthia was a shorter woman than her younger sister, if only by inches, but far more traditionally feminine in all the ways that annoyed the young Seraphite, with a dollish face and curves that Felicia was pretty sure weren’t entirely natural. Sure, it wasn’t like she didn’t like wearing skirts or looking pretty, but Carinthia had made it her entire personality. That and being a lying, two-faced, backstabbing bitch who had essentially become their uncle’s lapdog over the course of many years.
“I don’t see where you’re getting at, talking about my choice of clothing,” Felicia said, gesturing to the casual tunic, pants and boots she was wearing that night. Her sister, on the other hand, looked like she was heading to the kind of party where you either ended the night in some stranger’s bed or high out of your mind. Or both. “And I can see you’re still holding onto that flask like it’s the only good dick you’ve ever had.”
Carinthia managed to pull off a pretty good expression of faux offense, clutching the aforementioned flash like with was a pearl necklace and raising her hand to cover her mouth, even though there was no one watching them. That expression then morphed into one of glee, bringing her hand up in a clawing motion. “Uh oh. Kitty’s got fangs tonight.”
Felicia grit her teeth at the nickname. She was proud of her true name. Of the sense of empowerment and strength it imparted to her. Carinthia had tried, on none too few occasions, to make that name seem lesser. Like it belonged to a pet rather than a person. That had resulted in a few fist fights, all of which Felicia had won despite her sister’s higher level. After all, Felicia had a combat Class, while Carinthia was more a politician than anything directly dangerous.
Still, just because Carinthia couldn’t hurt her with weapons or with magic didn’t mean she couldn’t cause damage in other ways.
“What do you want? Cause if you’re just here to remind that I’m moving out soon, I’ve got good news for you: I already know, and I can’t fucking wait for the day it finally happens.”
“So vulgar tonight,” Carinthia said in disapproval, though that didn’t shift her sister’s attitude even slightly. “But I was just coming to let you know that uncle and father-”
“Step father,” Felicia corrected. It had been nearly ten years since the King of Ulys had died and her mother had remarried for the sake of politics, but he had been one of the only people who’d made life at the castle bearable, along with her mother and eldest brother. When Carinthia had started calling their step-father just ‘father’ it felt… it felt like she was trampling on the memory of a kind, good man for no other reason than she simply could.
Carinthia rolled her eyes and continued on like she hadn’t heard Felicia at all. “They want you to either marry one of the suitors or suitresses they’ve lined up to benefit the family… or you will no longer be welcome under the roof of the royal palace, or any property under the direct ownership of the royal family. Ever. For any reason. You will, effectively, be banished in all but documentation.”
Felica’s face suddenly went cold, like someone with an Aqua Affinity had just blasted her with an ice spell. That… no. No. She was going to leave, she knew that. She was proud of that. Her eldest brother and mother had both encouraged her to take her own path. But this… if this was real, then she would rarely be able to speak to either of them, if she could even find them outside the palace. But the queen regent and heir to be were both often confined to the palace due to their duties, and they had many different homes and outposts directly under the say so of the royal coffers. Effectively… they were cutting her out completely.
“This can’t possibly be legal,” Felicia said, holding on to a desperate hope she’d never known was there before. “Mother would never allow it, and you certainly know that Erathis wouldn’t either!”
“The decision has already been made,” Carinthia said, shrugging her shoulders as though helpless. “The royal family might not hold much external power anymore, but we have enough for this much.”
“But-”
“The decision has been made, sister,” Carinthia said in that tone she always used when she was ramping up to a speech. Then, she breathed, her curly silver locks bouncing slightly with the motion. “Either you go along with this, or you leave the family in its entirety.”
And they all knew what she would choose. Felicia, as one of the last in line for the throne of Ulys, had no particular political value, which granted her a great deal of freedom. It was part of the reason that she had been able to study with Anya as an apprentice in the first place. But, during her teen years, it had also made her a prime target to be played as a pawn in some political marriage by her step father and uncle.
Her mother had opposed this adamantly, as had her brother, but it seemed that, in the end, all that effort was for naught. If those two were making decisions like this over the queen’s head, then… they had far more clout and far more allies than she had first thought. As Carinthia walked off into the night to go drown herself in the carnal pleasures of hard drugs and wild sex, Felicia bared her teeth and clenched her fists, wanting nothing more than to draw her sword and run her scumbag uncle and two faced step father through on its length. But that would just prove a pointless attempt at murder that would see her nowhere but prison.
So, she walked on with a hollowness settling down in her chest. She wasn’t angry, irate or sad. She wasn’t mourning the loss of family that, come a few months time, she might never see again. Instead, Felicia Daybreak felt two things and two things only. An overwhelming numbness, and a creeping, sinister dread that threatened to rip apart her whole life.
“… yeah. What a fucking day.”