The night had been long, not just for Tomoe, but for seemingly the entire palace.

Where usually it was an uphill battle to make sure she went to sleep at a reasonable time, they had instead kept her awake, levying question after question and insisting she stay in the room with them. Her complaints about being tired had been met with stern looks and raised voices as Asahi and the others argued and pointed.

There came a point where she wondered if they’d forgotten she wasn’t just part of the furniture.

Still, night wore on into day, and some things never changed. With tired eyes, she’d ended up in the same old sitting room, taking the same old boring lessons from Asahi.

“Now, the Empyrean Gate. Why is it such an important settlement?” The attendant’s severity and shortness were clearer than ever that morning.

“It’s important for commerce because it controls access to the strait that connects the northern oceans to the Central Seas. It provides sea access to Asmira, Sunthrone, the Vermillion Isles, the Azarria Chain, and the Yonderwilds, so merchant ships need to sail through, or else they'd have to go all the way around.” Tomoe answered.

“Correct,” Asahi nodded curtly. “Well done. That will be all for today.”

The tension in the room was palpable. She’d fully expected another question, but the old fox was already gathering his belongings in a hurry.

“Is—Is that it? We've only been here for an hour."

“Indeed. The advisory convene is gathering shortly.”

“The advisory convene…” Tomoe made no effort to hide her gloomy expression, but if Asahi noticed, he made no mention of it.

“Your decorum instructor will be here in just a few minutes, so don’t go anywhere, understand?”

“Got it.”

“I mean it, Tomoe. Do not disappear.” There was no wry smile tugging at his lips. He was serious.

Well, that was fine — so was she.

“I said I understand, Asahi. I’ll sit here and be perfectly well-behaved!”

There were a million things she wanted to say, but against all odds, the words died on her tongue. Better not to aggravate the old attendant when he was in such a foul mood, no matter how much her chest swelled with the desire to speak out against the injustice she was suffering.

“You are free to go out into the grounds after your decorum lesson, but the palace guard has been informed to keep an eye on you, my lady. Enjoy your afternoon.”

And then he left.

‘My lady’.

He never called her that unless he was genuinely angry. For some reason, Asahi being mad at her always seemed to sting the most.

With him gone, the room fell silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of an opulent wall clock. Closing her eyes, she felt her stomach churn with uneasiness, and her limbs bristle with a palpable restlessness. The previous night’s adrenaline had returned, re-ignited by how fiercely and earnestly she felt as though she was being wronged — everyone was mad at her, and for what?

Because she dared to exercise some free will in going to the night market?

Tick.

Tock.

The passing of each second was marked by the thunderous striking of a hammer.

Tick.

Louder and louder—

Tock.

More intense, until—

She bolted to her feet. “I’m getting out of here! Phee?”

The flickering spirit drifted over from its nestling place near the window, having settled just far enough out of sight that Asahi wouldn’t be reminded of him too often.

Wouldn’t want to cause the old man to go on a tirade, after all.

“Hey, buddy,” she smiled, as he nestled into his spot in the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Phee’s quiet, happy trills were always a soothing sound in uneasy times.

All that awaited her in that dreary room was yet another lesson on decorum and tact, another hour wasted enduring lectures about manners, charisma, body language — everything that would be scrutinised about her when she came into power.

Most of the palace staff had given up on trying to change her casual manner of speaking, which they regarded as unbecoming of a girl her age, much less one of her station, but the woman who arrived each week to instruct her on how to be ladylike simply wouldn't let the matter go. It was, apparently, of ‘grave import’ that she begin adopting a more regal and demure persona.

It was all a big charade, as far as she was concerned. Acting proper and refined, denying yourself the freedom to act how you really want to act: nobody wanted to be like that all the time, did they?

Opening the door to leave, she saw the metal-clad back of a guardsman.

“How can I help you, my lady?” He asked, turning to look down at her. He really was very tall.

“Uh…” Tomoe couldn’t believe it. He’d done it. He’d actually posted a guard at the door! “I just wanted to ask when the decorum lady would get here. Isn’t she late?”

“I don’t believe so, my lady. Sir Asahi made no mention of her running late.”

“Huh! I’ll just go sit back down then.”

“Very good.” He nodded gruffly and turned back, unerring in his duty to make sure she didn't leave.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Tomoe grumbled, shutting the door behind her, “but heroes always find a way!”

True enough, Asahi had made one crucial mistake, something he should’ve known better than to overlook.

Tomoe Suzaku was, if nothing else, tenacious. Late or not, the decorum instructor had failed to arrive in time to stop the fennec from making short work of the curtains, crafting them into a slipshod rope.

A few minutes later the door opened again, revealing an open window and an empty room, not a fennec nor a fire spirit in sight.

[https://i.imgur.com/j6ZLfDr.png]

Tomoe strolled through familiar gardens, hands stuffed into her pockets. She had seen the royal sakura trees wither and bloom over and over again for as long as she could remember. They were beautiful specimens, no doubt the most beautiful sakura the Vermilion Isles had to offer, but even so, they’d become unsightly to her.

It was through no fault of their own of course, but as the years passed, those trees became increasingly tangible representations of Tomoe’s disdain for the woefully familiar. Beautiful vibrant pink scenes plucked out of an artist’s head — and yet they inspired nothing in her at all.

Perhaps it was fitting that they were currently withered and robbed of colour by winter’s chill.

The view, too. Objectively speaking, she knew her view of Namitori and the plains beyond was a wonderful one that most would be awestruck to see, but to her, it was simply the view from her home! She was more interested in what lay beyond the horizon. How she yearned to just pick a direction and walk without a manhunt being organised to bring her back.

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For a brief moment, she considered whether or not this was perhaps her fate. The priests and priestesses always spoke of one’s fate, and how The Sun had crafted a plan for all of animalkind. Perhaps Tomoe Suzaku’s fate was to be to be the first member of her family to fail, and for those who doubted her to be proven right.

At just that moment, a strong gust blew across Namitori. The girl, burdened with all her thoughts, shivered as the chill wind passed through her.

One second later, a newspaper landed square in her face.

“P—Pppft—!“

Flailing to remove it, she growled— great. That was just her luck! Even the wind was mocking her now! She was about to scrunch the offending paper into the smallest ball possible when something caught her eye. The front page story.

‘Local hero slays the Kraken of Brightfoam! Village saved by plucky youngster!’

Her gaze lingered on it. A tale of heroism, where one person made the difference… just as she had at the market the previous night.

Tomoe felt a kindling in her heart.

The worries and concerns that haunted her were now like dark things, scuttling to hurry away from the emerging light of realisation. The confidence she lacked in her future, her regret at what she would never be able to experience, and the pressure she felt from the adults who judged her. In the wake of her newfound determination, they vanished. Giving a firm nod to Phee, she set off toward the advisory convene with Suzaku’s own courage in her steps.

[https://i.imgur.com/j6ZLfDr.png]

Lord Fumito Suzaku sat upon a tall, vermilion-cushioned seat adorned with resplendent golden wings.

This seat was not his throne. It was simply his seat within the convene chamber.

The room was an unusual one. Spacious, lit by brazier light at night and the sky by day, with thirteen carved alcoves built into the walls. One sat at the head of the room and looked over all others, and this one, of course, belonged to the dynast-lord. The others were six at each side, each spaced equally apart and slightly higher than the last. The individuals who took their place in those alcoves were drenched in shadow unless they stood or leaned forward, and unlike Lord Fumito, they had no grand throne. They had no seat at all. The glass ceiling overhead illuminated whichever poor soul was unfortunate enough to be standing on the chamber floor, being gazed down upon by the concentrated scrutiny of the Isles' thirteen most influential people.

Though there was no such person, for the time being. Those thirteen individuals were in the middle of an agitated discussion amongst themselves.

“My lord, is the matter of attendance truly a closed book?” Asked a man who leaned forward crassly, hands crossed on the balustrade in front of him. “I reckon it’s a bad idea in the first place, no matter who we send. The Isles have always thrived on their own merit. A few elemental attacks and a few dead peasants—“

“Stay your tongue, Ryuji! You will not speak so flippantly in Lord Fumito’s presence!” Scolded Asahi, rising from his chair. “The sole heir was in grave danger last night due to the elemental threat, and still you question the necessity of attendance?”

“Tch...” The man named Ryuji rolled his eyes, barely concealing a scowl.

“I condemn Ryuji’s manner, but… perhaps there is some merit to revisiting our stance on this Summit of Leaders?” Came the suggestion of a mousey-looking woman. “Perhaps if those in attendance were more carefully curated, but the missive stated that emissaries from Asmira and… ah, particular unsavoury factions will be present as well, and to share a roundtable with those who offend our beliefs and employ the use of heretical cold technology—“

A sound like a peal of thunder filled the room. A deathly silence settled over the chamber, one that was only broken by a voice like gravel and fire. “The matter of attendance is decided,” Lord Fumito intoned, each word an edict, for the blood of Suzaku flowed through his veins. “You are to suggest emissaries. You are not to question my word.”

A pin drop would have been like a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil. Ultimately, it was Espen whose courage did not fail him, stepping forth from his place behind the dynast-lord's seat to speak. “As before, I volunteer myself for the task. I am a seasoned traveler, and have experience with foreign dignitaries.” Simple, firm words.

“I support that notion,” proclaimed Amiya, arms crossed. “He is more than qualified for the task.”

Nobody seemed to disagree, given the murmur of approval that spread through the room.

Lord Fumito shifted in his seat, heavy set brow furrowed in thought as he stared out beyond all present, no doubt navigating a mire of possibilities. It was his duty as a leader to consider each decision he made with the utmost care, and that was a duty he took seriously, regardless of how long it took.

At last, he leaned forward to speak—

Only for the chamber door to slam wide open, an armour-clad drake stumbling through in its wake... along with a slippery red-furred fennec evading his grasp!

“I object!” Thundered Tomoe, scrambling across the sturdy man’s chest plate and up to his helmet, which served as a launch pad for her to leap into the chamber. Phee whizzed after her, wearing a raucous grin.

All eyes were on the girl and the spirit.

Wide eyes and agape mouths were plentiful, the stunned quiet broken by Amiya’s furious voice. “What is she doing here?!”

“Tomoe, you should be at your decorum lesson!” Asahi scolded, a very real expression of anger on his face. “A lesson you clearly need!”

Lord Fumito did not react to the commotion, gripping his mighty staff and looking down upon the scene unfolding before him with tired eyes.

“I volunteer to be the emissary! I will travel to Many Crossroads!” She cried with a resounding passion that garnered little sympathy from the crowd.

“You’re just a little girl!”

“The sole heir can’t go on such a journey. It’s far too dangerous!”

“Indeed, that would be the height of foolishness.”

Tomoe stamped her foot, her voice raising to a shout. “HOW—“ The chamber quieted. Lord Fumito still did not react, even as his daughter stole glances at him. “Am I supposed to prove myself to you people if I’m never given a chance?! You have all of these expectations of me, and I— I get it, I don’t meet all of them— many of them, even— but…” Her mouth was dry, and suddenly, the weight of so many eyes upon her felt significantly heavier, but she found solace in a deep breath. “I know I’m not who most of you want me to be. I’m not studious, I don’t have good manners, and I don't always follow the rules, but maybe those aren’t the only qualities of a good leader! Maybe, if you just gave me this chance, I’d be able to show you what I’m really capable of on my own terms!”

All present were silent as the girl finished her speech... only for the silence to be broken by Ryuji's barking laughter.

“How long did you spend rehearsing that, youngling? Fell a bit short of the mark, I think. Not much of a climax.”

Asahi’s face was practically contorting with rage and disbelief, unsure whether to be angier with Tomoe or the man who openly belittled her. “Ryuji, by The Sun, do not deride the sole heir so brazenly, or I—“

“Enough.” Came Fumito’s voice. It was not the warm voice of a father, it was the powerful word of a leader.

“Father, I—“

“DID I lose my authority today?!” He boomed, his words followed by a violent coughing fit. Tomoe watched as Espen soothed him and offered him the same salve she had seen him sipping for years. “This… court, including those who are not meant to be here, would do well to remember who is in charge.”

Seeing his lord's coughing begin to subside, Espen stepped away, leaving him with the bottle. “May I, my lord?”

Lord Fumito nodded slowly, and the wolf continued.

“I rescind my recommendation. I would like to recommend that Miss Tomoe go as emissary instead.”

“Espen? Have you lost your mind?!” Asahi challenged, but he stammered and went quiet at the sight of Lord Fumito’s raised hand.

“… Speak further, Espen.”

“It is true, is it not, that the great hero Jubei was an adventurer before he was a great and noble leader? And yourself, my lord! Did you not see the land and its splendour before ascending to sit upon the throne? That worldly wisdom is what guides a great person and bestows upon them the gift of empathy.” The wolf looked at the fennec, nodding. “There is little to lose, and much to benefit, from the young lady seeing the land and its people for herself.”

“You must be mad!” Asahi challenged. “She is the sole heir! There is only little to lose if you consider her life unimportant!”

Espen grinned, and it only made Asahi’s expression harden further. “You doubt the training I’ve given her, then? I believe Miss Tomoe’s fascination with swordplay is one of the traits those sitting in this chamber have stated to be a waste of time! If there is one thing you should not doubt, it is her ability to defend herself.”

Tomoe perked up. “As shown last night, at the market!”

“… As shown last night, at the market.” Espen echoed the sentiment, winking at the young fennec.

Tomoe’s heart raced, her hands balled into fists to stop them from shaking. "I can do it, father. Please, believe in me!"

As the seconds passed, she held her head high, gazing at her father with determination. Eventually, Lord Fumito struck his staff into the ground.

“It is decided.”

Tomoe gulped, bright vermilion eyes wide open.

“My daughter shall serve as emissary of the Vermilion Isles. She shall represent the interests of our people at the Summit of Leaders.”

Asahi’s panic was palpable. “My lord, I must protest!“

“It is decided, Asahi.”

Flustered, the attendant continued, “But my lord—“

“Enough!” The murmuring across the chamber fell quiet. “She shall be accompanied by a personal guard comprised of the finest warriors the Burning Plume has to offer, and she shall return to this land tempered by time, travel, and tribulation, ready to ascend to leadership. By the divine flame that runs through my veins, I render this decision final!”

It was rare that the advisers of one as powerful and influential as Lord Fumito Suzaku were shocked into silence, and yet on that day, it had happened more than once.

Tomoe was far from quiet, though.

“Yes! I-I won’t let you down, Espen!” She caught herself. “Nor you, father!”

“Pree!”

She hugged Phee — the closest she could to hugging him, at least — and rejoiced.

All the same, when she looked up to see Asahi, what she saw was a man perplexed and despairing, his gaze avoidant. No matter. Clearly, he was just another old fogey like Amiya… well, she’d prove him wrong.

She’d prove them all wrong!

She’d go on a journey across the Isles, across the sea, and then who knows where! She’d become a hero, and return with her head held high, many a yarn to be spun about her great escapades!

Oh, how she couldn’t wait to see the look on Arata’s face when she told him what’d happened!

Espen nodded at her, giving a warm smile. “Return to the palace, young miss! I shall be along to see you after the convene concludes, but there are yet more matters for us to discuss!”

“Okay! Have fun, uh, discussing stuff! A-And thank you again!” She bowed before rushing to leave that dreary chamber, thrilled at the thought of all that was to come. She had to go shopping for supplies, prepare her adventurer's satchel, get her map and figure out all the landmarks to visit… there was so much to do!

As she rushed away from the chamber, she gave a quick bow of apology to the drake guard she’d used as a launch pad, his helmet still lopsided.

He scoffed as she rounded the corner out of sight, a spring in her step as she went. “Kids these days...”