image [https://i.imgur.com/WxgkjSv.png]
In the stillness of the night, Mila felt the gradual return of her consciousness. Her senses reawakened, finding herself within the embrace of soft blankets and pillows, enveloping her in comfort. As her eyes slowly parted, the moonlight streamed through her window, casting a gentle glow on her silver hair as a soothing breeze whispered through the room.
Mila began to reflect on the events that had transpired. Questions lingered in her mind – how did she find herself here, and, more significantly, what had become of Graybeard?
Morgana Blackblood, a name now seared into the depths of her resentment for the deeds she had committed. This hatred was the second wave of thought that washed over her. Rising from her bed, she surveyed the familiar surroundings of the room. It seemed to be Grismala's estate, the place where she had last regained consciousness. The things Grismala said to her last time sounded rather farfetched to her. Though she believed her, she didn't have time to fully take in the details told to her. Grismala herself appeared to be a potential ally, but an unsettling aura surrounded her, leaving Mila with an uneasy feeling.
Despite her ongoing contemplation of emotions, Arbious crept into her thoughts. This time, however, she wondered about his current activities. The truths he had revealed, the stark realities that had lingered in her mind, weighed on her. She couldn't help but shake the feeling of owing him for taking her seriously, for treating her not as the child everyone perceived her to be, in constant need of protection. Yet at the same time, the memory of their fight left her grappling with conflicting emotions, uncertain of what to make of it all.
Lost in contemplation, Mila remained fixed by the window until a rhythmic knocking on the door interrupted her thoughts. It had to be the peculiar priestess she encountered earlier – what was her name again? Yarine, that's right.
Before Mila could invite her in, Yarine entered swiftly, "Oh, you're awake! Thank Michael for that!" she exclaimed with an air of urgency.
The uncanny accuracy of Yarine's ability to sense when Mila was awake rose unsettling questions. Was it mere coincidence, or did an obsession drive her constant vigilance? Mila couldn't be sure. "How did I get here?" Mila questioned.
"Lady Samille brought you here. She instructed us to heal you promptly. I personally tended to your wounds. You owe her your gratitude; you were on the brink of death," Yarine explained hurriedly as she paced around the room. "Lady Samille took quite a beating in that confrontation, facing two cardinals was utterly reckless. I mean what was she thinking?! Yet, she does live up to her reputation."
Perplexed, Mila sought clarification. "Wait, what do you mean? How do you know all this?"
"Lady Grismala revealed it to us through her magic. We witnessed the entire fight from here. Luckily King Julius was capable of forcing the demon cult to retreat," Yarine disclosed. "Unfortunately, Graybeard isn't faring too well."
There was so much that she was still unaware of. Why did Julius get involved personally? And more importantly, what exactly happened after she collapsed, though she couldn't even recall why she did so. "Graybeard? What happened to him? Tell me," Mila demanded.
Yarine hesitated, letting out a reluctant sigh. "Shoot... I wasn't supposed to say that."
"Tell me what's happened to him!" In a burst of anger, Mila seized Yarine's arm and forcefully pressed her against the wall. The intensity in her gaze conveyed a storm of emotions. "Tell me!"
Terrified, Yarine stammered, "Miss Grismala would know better! It's her you must ask!"
The mention of Grismala drained Mila of her aggression. Releasing Yarine, she stared blankly. "Why did Grismala have to tend to him?" she questioned, a sense of dread creeping over her.
"From all I know... His situation was critical. We're lucky he's alive, but his mental state is beyond saving. I'm not sure what happened, but I could sense malevolence clinging to him. It will take a very long time for him to recover."
"Malevolence?"
"The energies of one of the cardinals no doubt. It's entrenched deep in his heart and mind. We're doing our best, but our holy magic isn't having much effect. Honestly, if anything, and I regret to say this because it isn't our holy magic, the spirit of Ifrit is what's keeping him alive."
Mila's eyes widened. "Ifrit is alive?"
"My lady, please, come with me. Grismala has requested your presence. I'm certain she can provide more information on these matters." Yarine urged.
"Fine then," Mila replied resolutely. "So, where is she exactly?"
"In the royal capital..."
image [https://i.imgur.com/QC2G41D.png]
In the grand halls of the royal capital, King Julius of Octavia occupied his golden throne, a subtle discomfort etching his face as advisors surrounded him, their discussions filling the air. Grismala, silent yet observant, stood by his side, the unspoken understanding between them palpable. The topic at hand was the recent defeat in the attempt to save Himli. Approximately five hundred knights had met their demise on that fateful night. The advisors, instead of strategizing a way forward, were engulfed in shock at the formidable power displayed by Morgana, an unknown force until that moment.
As the advisors continued their discourse, Mila with Yarine entered through a side door leading into the throne room. She moved down the carpet, overhearing the bickering among the advisors. With a wave of his hand, Julius dismissed his advisors, who left reluctantly, their concerns echoing in the air.
Mila could sense the urgency in the late-night meeting, but her understanding was overshadowed by her concern for Graybeard. As she arrived before the throne, she gracefully bowed her head in respect to Julius. Grismala stepped forward to address her.
"Mila, it's good to see you well, but these are not times for idle chatter. The enemies are still active in a multitude of villages surrounding Octavia. We must send aid to these villages, and you must aid in their efforts," Grismala declared, her words carrying the weight of the kingdom's dire circumstances.
Mila's frustration reached its peak, and after all she had endured, she couldn't contain her outburst. "Are you serious? I don't care what happens to any of them! Where is Graybeard?" She spoke, pointing her finger at Grismala.
Her words incited anger in Julius, who swiftly rose to his feet, commanding silence with a stern motion. "I will not have you speak with that tongue in my court! Do you understand?"
A tense silence hung in the air, with Grismala expecting Mila to apologize, but none came. Instead, Mila insisted, "I want Graybeard! You owe me that!"
"Girl, I do not owe you anything," Julius retorted, his fury evident as he unsheathed his sword, prepared to strike Mila down.
Grismala, speaking from behind Julius, interjected, "Mila, after you lost consciousness, everyone was slaughtered. Samille tried to protect you to her last breath against the demon cult. If Julius had not arrived when he did, you probably wouldn't be alive either, nor Graybeard. You owe him your life. Now bow your head and apologize."
Mila thought as her memories came back to her, "Lost consciousness? Wait! Samille knocked me out in the church! Why are they trying to pin this on me?" and with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, Mila remarked, "Thank you, your honor, for saving me, but where is he? Where is Graybeard?" The urgency in her tone hinted at the deep concern she held for Graybeard's well-being, however, a hint of arrogance was also conveyed through her words.
"Such insolence," Julius thundered, his anger reverberating through the hall.
Grismala, sensing the escalating tension, moved behind Julius and embraced him, her calming presence attempting to soothe his fury. "Julius, calm yourself. Nothing good will come of it." She whispered. "I apologize for her in advance. You must understand that the dwarf was a father to her; that much can be forgiven."
Julius, reluctantly took his seat, heeding her advice as Grismala continued speaking. "We instructed our healers to attend to Graybeard, but we have no more to spare. If you were to cooperate, we could help Graybeard more. We are stretched thin."
Sighing, Julius added, "If only those reinforcements promised to us by the Holy Empire came, we would finally stabilize. One could hope for some support in these dark times."
Grismala interjected, "If it's any consolation, I've requested my husband to send forces."
"We both know the north won't help, neither the elves nor the humans at that," Julius concluded, acknowledging the grim reality of their predicament. The weight of their responsibilities and the uncertainty of aid casting a long shadow over the royal court. "However, we mustn't falter. I'd be damned to let fanatics run over my country."
Mila was clueless as to the state of geopolitics going on at the time. she felt conflicted by the fact that Samille knocked her out when she did and that no one seemed to mention that detail. It was frustrating, however, to have another outburst would've been childish. Graybeard had always told her to "keep a cool head lass, think of the reason the other side might wana do something, that is the best way to get ahead in life." However, as she listened to their discussion, the truth brought an understanding to Mila about their current predicaments. Samille knew it was only a matter of time until the cultists caught up to them, and since she wasn't her cooperating, Samille had no choice but to do what she did. As the two watched Grismala and Julius debate together, even more light was shed on the matter. Himli was all but burnt to the ground. The demon cult was vicious, leaving none alive. Mila couldn't shake the guilt that now weighed on her, realizing the foolishness of her outburst and the lives inevitably lost to save hers. As Grismala and Julius continued their discussions, Mila bowed her head and spoke, interrupting Grismala. "Your Highness, I apologize for my behavior."
Julius, in a more composed tone, responded, "Think nothing of it. This late-night hour has taken a toll on all of us. We were not in the right state of mind, that is all. And I apologize for my own transgressions."
Hearing the apology from the king sparked a newfound respect in Mila. Although she had heard rumors about kings being selfish and disregarding others, Julius's demeanor contrasted with those tales. Mila, maintaining her bowed posture, expressed, "My lord, I must maintain this posture if I am to overcome this guilt I feel for saying such things to you."
Grismala smiled, and Julius urged Mila to raise her head. As she did, Julius assigned her a crucial task. "Mila, you will be tasked with bringing stability to the regions under our domain. You will be assigned to Samille's regiment this time, rather than taking the lead. She is a senior in rank, and I believe a fit candidate to teach you to use your powers."
Julius continued, addressing the fate of Mila's companions from Himli. "As for the two companions you had last time, Joan was given a proper burial. His body returned to the earth, and his family... no, his relatives, will rest easily knowing what happened, that he died to protecting all of us."
"And what... what about Contii?" Questioned Mila with worry.
"Contii survived; We offered him a generous sum of money should he decide to retire, but he declined. In fact, he sought to serve with you. As such, the two of you will be placed in the same regiment under Samille's orders," Julius informed Mila.
The news of Contii's survival brought a sense of hope to Mila. The opportunity for him to fulfill the dream Joan never could felt both sad and poetic. Despite the hardships, a smile of reassurance adorned Mila's face. "Thank you, Your Highness," she expressed her gratitude.
Julius, looking at Grismala, decided to conclude the meeting. "Let us end this meeting then. And please, for the love of the heavens, don't make me attend these at night..."
"Very well, Your Highness," Grismala agreed, nodding her head, watching Julius stand from his throne. "I take it you will depart early morning then?"
"No, I won't leave Octavia yet. There are still some matters that remain unresolved. If we are to overcome this threat Morgana poses to us, I must make full use of my abilities to root out any and all traitors among our ranks."
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"I see," Grismala added. "Then please, have a pleasant sleep. If only for a short while."
Julius hastily made his exit from the throne room, leaving Grismala, Mila, and Yarine alone. Grismala turned to Yarine, her emerald eyes set on the priestess. "Yarine, you will also be traveling with Mila and the others, right?"
Yarine remained silent and uneasy as Grismala continued to mount pressure on her. "We wouldn't want the church to think you are scared of fighting now, would we? So you will be traveling with Mila, yes?" Grismala pressed, hinting at the importance of Yarine's involvement.
Grismala's persistence had its effect, and Yarine eventually gave in. "Yes... Yes! I will be going with them!"
Mila stood dumbfounded, witnessing how Grismala effortlessly compelled Yarine to comply. Even the king fell victim to her charm. She was a master of her craft. A twinge of realization hit Mila as she recognized the parallels to her own situation, but she chose to keep her thoughts unspoken.
"Mila, as for you, Samille's garrison is at the very edge of town, south of here by the gatehouse. When you are ready, head there immediately. She and her forces are waiting on your arrival."
"I will," Mila replied, though the conflicting emotions about Grismala lingered. With a nod of her head, she made her way to the exit, contemplating the path that lay ahead with Yarine at her back. image [https://i.imgur.com/SXHe3wd.png]
Under the shroud of night, Mila and Yarine traversed the dimly lit streets of Octavia, making their way towards Samille's garrison. The cool breeze carried whispers of uncertainty, and the moon cast shadows on the cobblestone paths.
As they walked in silence, Mila couldn't shake the weight of the recent revelations and the responsibility that awaited her at the garrison. Yarine, though walking beside her, seemed lost in her own thoughts, occasionally glancing at Mila with an air of unease.
The journey was punctuated by the distant echoes of the city's nightlife, a stark contrast to the somber mood that accompanied the two companions. Octavia, usually bustling with activity, now bore witness to a kingdom in turmoil under the threat of the demon cult.
Arriving at the edge of town, they could see the silhouette of the gatehouse against the night sky. The garrison, a tall tower of a structure, awaited within the confines of the city walls, acting as a haven for those who stood vigilant against the encroaching threats. Mila took a deep breath, steadying herself for what lay ahead.
As they approached the garrison, the sound of armored footsteps echoed in the quiet night. A group of soldiers stood vigilant, their armor gleaming in the moonlight. Among them, Samille, a seasoned warrior, emerged, her cape dragged by the wind.
"Mila," Samille greeted, "You've arrived. We have much to discuss."
In that short moment, Mila noticed a new air to Samille, one that she had not sensed before. The winds often were telling of a persons character, and to Mila, who could sense the winds, they whispered to her that Samille was someone pure of heart. Someone she could rely on. With a gesture of her fingers, Samille ordered her guards to leave, creating a more private setting. Mila and Yarine exchanged puzzled glances before Samille spoke, "Why don't you follow me?"
The trio entered the garrison, revealing a worn-down interior with moss-covered walls. Despite being manned, the structure itself seemed neglected. A table sat atop an elevated platform, and Samille made her way up the stairs to take her seat. Yarine and Mila followed, settling into their own seats in the dimly lit chamber.
Taking in the surroundings, Mila noted that the garrison was smaller than she had imagined. The interior was divided into multiple rooms with quarters that seemed less spacious than the guild halls where she used to take adventure requests. As she was getting comfortable taking her seat, Samille began discussing the details shared with her. "Lady Grismala has already informed me of your situation, Mila."
In that moment, Mila recalled the critical thing she had to address. Her actions had endangered both her and Samille during their battle. Before Samille could continue, Mila spoke, "Thank you... for saving me."
Samille had feared that Mila would have resented her for doing what she did, but hearing this, A faint smile crossed her face, appreciating the gratitude. "You don't have to mention it..."
Yarine wasn't happy of how she was dragged into all of this. She was merely an observer and a healer. How in the name of Michael could she let herself get involved with this. On top of that, she was also a neat freak, so seeing the garrison in such an order made her question. "Miss Samille, I must ask, why is this garrison in this shape...?" She asked, her eyes observing the disorganized uncleanliness of the interior.
"This garrison was actually abandoned for some time... But even so, with a lack of personnel, there is only so much we can do," Samille explained. "Especially after the defeat, and the bureaucracy stretched thin, we couldn't receive the aid we needed."
"But a clean garrison is important!" Yarine insisted.
"Meh, you get used to it," Samille replied. "Not that we ever spend much time in here. Luckily for us, we won't have many members to look after."
"What is your meaning?" Yarine inquired.
"Our regiment," Samille began to explain with a tense tone laced in her voice, "is to act as an elite unit for Octavia."
"Lady Samille..." Feeling left out, Mila spoke up, capturing the attention of the two. "I was told that we were to take down the demon cultists and remove their presence in the outlying villages... when do we start on that?"
"You? Fight the demon cult? No way, first we have to train you!" Samille replied. "I know I regarded us as an elite force, but my task is to train you first and foremost. My duty is to turn you and everyone under my command into capable warriors. Your powers as an angel can be crucial in our fight. I won't have you go into battle unprepared this time."
Mila took a moment to consider, realizing her shortcomings after her previous failure not to mention Graybeard's life was now on the line. Though she could use magic, she was lacking in discipline.
"I'm sorry," Mila muttered under her breath, feeling the weight of her incompetence.
"Sorry? Don't be sorry, Mila!" Samille replied with a cheerful smile, bashing her fist into the wooden table as she stood up. "Sorry is for the weak! Sorry is for those who cannot get past an obstacle! You are strong, Mila! You will get strong!"
Yarine, protective of Mila, interjected, "Samille, but I fail to see how you can train Mila. She is a magic caster, and you're a warrior."
Samille leaned in with a bright and reassuring smile to look at Mila's hands. "Yes, you're right, these are the hands of someone who hasn't wielded a knife much less a sword. But just because she is a magic caster doesn't mean she shouldn't wield one! To wield a sword is to practice self-restraint and discipline. In that regard, I see this as an absolutely perfect way to get Mila to hone her skills, both with her sword and her understanding of how to fight."
Graybeard's reluctance to permit Mila to wield knives or swords stemmed from a deep-seated fear of her inadvertently injuring herself. As an overprotective guardian, he vigilantly watched over her, shielding her from potential harm like a parent safeguarding their child. This cautious approach was driven by a genuine concern for Mila's well-being, and it defined their dynamic.
The primary motivation behind Mila's reliance on air magic lay in Graybeard's protective measures. He deemed it a safer alternative, mitigating the risks associated with bladed weapons. However, beyond this practical consideration, Mila's inherent angelic abilities also provided an additional incentive to harness her magical powers.
Catching her breath after speaking so fast, Samille continued, "But that isn't all. Practicing with a sword can improve your understanding of combat as a whole. You'd know your opponent's moves, and you'd be capable of evading attacks with that understanding, even if you choose to practice magic solely. I mean, just look at the Demon God. Everyone knows he is the strongest magic caster in the world; it still doesn't stop him from using his sword, though!"
Yarine scoffed, offended by the way Samille referred to Arbious. "Should you be mentioning him like that?"
"Why not?" Asked Samille as she took a seat once more. "When it comes to fighting, he is the best there is. I understand that he is evil, but how many others can hold all the archangels at bay single-handedly. No one."
"You're referring to the Battle of Faith..." Yarine suggested.
"Battle of faith?" Mila questioned, unaware of what they were referring to.
Yarine explained. "I don't blame you for not knowing. The contents of the battle were kept sealed... I am referring to the Demon God's attack on the Grand Cathedral of our Holy Empire two years ago to be more precise. The archangels, with their combined might, drove Arbious out of the city."
"How do you know all this if that's the case?" Mila questioned.
"Naturally, I was there," Yarine replied nonchalantly. "Is that an issue?"
"...........WHAT?" Mila shouted in surprise. "You were there?! You saw him fight against the archangels?"
If this were the case, then Yarine was someone who witnessed Arbious at his true power. This sparked a sense of curiosity within Mila, but the more she thought, the more questions she had. Was this battle before or after her encounter with Arbious at the Void Gates? If so, did that mean that Arbious was stronger now? How much more power could one get? Enough to single-handedly destroy the world itself? The universe? What was the end goal? So many questions, so few answers.
Samille, now intrigued, took her seat with a more serious look etched on her face. "I've only heard tales of the battle, but you were actually there... I can't imagine how horrifying that must have been." she stated.
"Yes... he was something else... to call him horrifying doesn't do it justice." Yarine replied in a dire tone etched in her voice.
"But what sort of situation would cause him to go to the Holy Kingdom?" Samille questioned further. "If anything, that is possibly the worst place for him to go, considering the land itself is sacred and weakens him."
"Well, I was investigating Lake Conyon. The sword of Michael fell into those waters. Our goal was to retrieve it. That's when I first met him," Yarine explained.
"And..?" Samille questioned.
"And I knew he was evil the moment I laid eyes on him. Of course, I couldn't exactly tell him I suspected he was evil, so I played along, hoping he didn't realize I knew," she replied. "Earlier that day, I had received word from our Holiness Lucious. Somehow, he knew of what would happen, my encounter with the Demon God that is. He had made preparations to entrap Arbious within the cathedral. It was up to me to lure him there."
"I see... on the sacred grounds of the church, the Demon God would naturally be weaker," Mila muttered.
"Not weak enough to prevent him from escaping. That was our mistake. We could have potentially ended the war then and there. We never thought he would back away from a fight. But even with Lucious, the Sword of Heaven, and the archangels, we were still lacking..."
"You didn't fight?" Samille questioned.
"No... not exactly, not like it would have mattered." Yarine replied, recalling the horrors she had to face besides the Demon God himself. "I was more focused on helping evacuate people to safety... The archangels did most of the fighting... But even with all the cards against him, he still managed to come out unscathed."
"I... I never thought you'd have met with Arbious, why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Mila questioned.
"You never asked, though." Yarine replied defensively. "Though uttering his name alone makes me want to vomit, of course I wouldn't mention it."
"If you don't mind..." Mila spoke softly, "What was he like?"
Yarine remained silent for a few seconds, then mustered up her courage to speak. "He was... Terrifying. The powers he held, the darkness... The hate, the anger. I could sense all of it in his aura the second I saw him... But my true fear towards him came from... his ability to smile and keep his composure. He looked straight into my soul as he put up his false persona, suppressing his raging aura, lying blatantly to my face. Not even I have that level of confidence and composure. No, even the greatest of priests or angels can't do that."
Yarine then pointed her finger at Samille. "But enough about him. I cannot overlook this clear offense to the heavens from the way you spoke fondly of Arbious. He is not a being to be looked up to. You must repent this sin at our church."
"Fine," Samille replied.
Yarine, though weaker than Samille, held considerable influence in all kingdoms she visited. As a priestess of Michael and the right hand of Lucious, she was far superior to Samille in terms of politics.
Mila still had questions but also realized that neither Samille nor Yarine would possess the answers. However, the description Yarine gave was awfully siMilar to her encounter with Arbious's demonic side when she confronted him. One thing was certain, she was weak. She had to get stronger; she had no other path. "When do we start the training?" She asked.
"Well, not now obviously," Samille replied. "I want you to get used to this garrison. Find an empty room for now and get comfortable, but not too comfortable. The training will start tomorrow. Both you and Yarine will be fighting."
Yarine wanted to interject, but Samille was faster. "I WILL NOT TAKE A NO FOR AN ANSWER! YOU WILL FIGHT YARINE!"
Mila looked at Yarine with uncertainty. Seeing Mila's eyes the way they looked at her, Yarine had no choice but to agree. She didn't want to appear weak in front of someone she looked up to. "Fine..." She muttered.
Samille smiled, though not as heavily as before; this time, it was more of a gesture of composure. "This is all I have for you two today. You two better get some rest; tomorrow will be a long day."
Samille stood up, her cape rising behind her as she did. Mila looked up to Samille now, and her respect only grew. She had single-handedly fought off the demon cultists while injured, proving that she was a force to be reckoned with. The stories told about Samille had been relayed to Mila, but seeing and getting to know her in person was a completely different situation. She had an entirely different air about her and was cheerful and a good leader—a true hero worthy of her name. Mila promised herself mentally, "I will never let you down again!"
With Samille gone, Mila and Yarine remained. Mila had just woken up, but Yarine seemed visibly tired. Her eyes were bloodshot, alert, yet also falling asleep. She could hardly maintain herself, and she was acting strong to not look weak before Samille. But this was her true self, and she was defenseless.
Mila stood from her seat, but Yarine didn't seem to notice. With a gentle tug, Mila shook Yarine. "Let's go, I'll help you to your bed."
Yarine gradually emerged from her daze as Mila gently raised her arm, looping it around her shoulders. The weight was considerable, reminding Mila of the gravity of their situation. Surveying the surroundings, Mila steered them towards the garrison in search of a haven for the night. Fortunately, a sleeping quarters on the lower floor came into view – a space often utilized by guards during their rotations.
Inside, the room were two bunk beds, a welcome sight for the exhausted duo. Mila carefully settled Yarine onto the bottom bunk, helping her into her bedsheets, securing a momentary rest for her. Claiming the upper bunk for herself, Mila ascended the steps with a weariness that mirrored Yarine's. As she laid down on her own mattress, Mila's gaze drifted to the ceiling, contemplating the events that had led them here and the challenges that they had to face. The dim room provided a temporary sanctuary, shielding them from the trials of the outside world, if only for the night.