Arcturus looked at the granite wolves ahead of them dubiously, standing with Adam and Danica as Tylariel walked away from them towards the high gates the wolves ‘guarded’.
Having concluded their business with Luthaire and with everything Arcturus needed to begin his training and growth in earnest — including the new set of armour Tylariel promised him he’d be expected to reimburse her for — as an Apprentice Archon, the next and most crucial step was to make sure that he was as ready as was possible by the King’s Masquerade.
Three months of intense, focused training designed to turn him from a bewildered Nephilim into as close to a fully-fledged Terran warrior as his eclectic collection of allies could manage. He subconsciously stroked the hilt of Perdition where it sat on his belt, thinking about it. It was not going to be easy.
“When I heard House Rubastra was in the Outer Ring, I assumed it meant they’d really fallen from grace.” Adam said from Arcturus’ right. “I did not expect anything like this.”
Arcturus grunted in agreement as he looked beyond the gate to the mansion sprawled out in front of them. Forgetting the fact the gates were wide enough to comfortably fit two eighteen wheelers side by side on Earth, they were also high enough to require a five metre ladder just to reach the tips of the sharpened, spear-like bars that they were composed of.
Beyond them, Tylariel’s palatial home was more akin to a castle than it was a house.
A sprawling construction of elegant marble columns and multi-storeyed design, the Rubastra mansion put to shame anything that Arcturus might have imagined. Crenellations were visible along parapets built out from the uppermost levels of the building, adjoining interspersed towers and ramparts dominating the outside walls of the ‘home’. At a casual estimation, Arcturus could reliably count over two dozen windows at various places across the four, perhaps five-storey construction.
Look at all that bourgeois beauty.
He could see crimson-liveried soldiers with the Rubastra wolfhead patrolling the grounds and walking the battlements of their home, which more and more resembled a combination between an eighteenth century villa on Earth, and a french castle. Sentries were in full display at various strategic points, and a quick glance at the high walls connected to the gate and ringing the Rubastra’s plot of lane showed even more battlements.
“This has to be at least as big as the Château de Fougères!” Arcturus heard Danica exclaim. “Look at the elevation of the land and how it lifts the mansion-proper to a position of dominance, and the way the ramparts connect to the parapets along the roof. I swear there are gun-ports all along those towers!”
Arcturus glanced past Adam to the gushing brunette as she near-squealed in delight at the thought of living in the Rubastra Estate, and matched Adam’s wry smile with his own as she continued.
“Oh my god, guys, this place is like an architectural marriage of Augustan Rome and Napoleonic France!”
“You realise neither of us took art history or classical architecture courses, right?” Arcturus asked with a shake of his head. “You can enjoy your culturegasm by yourself, Dani.”
“As if you aren’t impressed, mister military history. I can see you salivating over the fortifications.”
“Apprentice!” Tylariel’s voice called as Arcturus opened his mouth to retort; stopping his response dead and calling his attention back to their location.
“Point to Danica.” Adam said with a deceptively neutral tone.
Arcturus grumbled as he led his friends to rejoin his mentor, glancing warily at the wolf statues as they walked.
He could have sworn their granite heads shifted slightly to watch him as he passed.
“Lady Archon, may I ask how large your estate is?” Danica said the moment they rejoined the redheaded Noble. “I don’t want to be rude, but I was a student of architecture in our source-shard, and I think your home is absolutely breathtaking.”
Arcturus mentally commended Danica’s understanding of people as she spoke to Tylariel, and noted the way that his mentor seemed to preen under the compliment. When she answered, he would’ve sworn he heard a notable change in how warm she was to Danica.
“The total land is approximated at a size of twenty hectares.” Tylariel answered.
“About forty acres.” Arcturus murmured. “That’s huge for an in-city property. Downright massive, actually.”
“The land was granted to House Rubastra in perpetuity before the Inner and Outer cities were created.” Tylariel said matter-of-factly. “The estate in the inner city is actually smaller than this, though it’s since been vacated since our departure from the ranks of the High Houses.”
“The land wasn’t seized?”
“No, House Honorum wouldn’t dare go that far. Not yet. King Honoris would have taken off Leon’s head for that.”
“So you could still return to it, with the right circumstances.”
“Yes, it is only for obeisance of social decorum that we don’t inhabit that estate any longer. It’s as much a form of protest as it is a political necessity.”
Tylariel started along the massive pathway leading from the gates to the villa itself as she spoke, forcing the three Nephilim to follow her.
“Would there have been consequences had you stayed?” Danica enquired.
“Given the nature of the agreement between Honorum and Rubastra, yes. It was a witnessed honour duel that sealed our fate, which means failing to adhere to its conditions would have made things far, far worse for us. House Valoura has always been rigid about their codes of honour, and Valarian culture has mimicked that stance throughout the millennia. We would have lost not just the benevolence of the King, but whatever support existed among the populace as well.”
“This place is incredible, though.” Arcturus said while looking around at the gardens and fountains they were passing on their way to the estate-proper. “Who would dream of attacking you here?”
Anyone that did would be someone you should fear.
Well, Arcturus couldn’t disagree with that sentiment.
“We have wealth, and that guarantees we can maintain ourselves and protect ourselves through force of arms. The fact all our guards are oathsworn is another point in that favour.” The Archon sighed as she glanced around them. “However, that means less than one might think.”
“Because your wound isn’t fiscal, it’s deeper than that: It’s your reputation. Your alliances. House Rubastra is powerful as a single entity, but even the greatest of single entities can be overwhelmed by a coordinated group.”
“Yes.” Tylariel agreed simply, giving Adam an appreciative look. “You grasp our ways well.”
“I majored in Political Science and Philosophy.” Adam said with a polite nod of thanks. “Where we’re from, there are entire classes dedicated towards the analysis of similar systems from our world’s past.”
“Past, not present?” Tylariel enquired.
“Past.” Adam confirmed. “Most of our world grew into direct or representative Democracy as the governmental norm.”
“Ah, yes. I remember. The so-called Democratic Revolutions of your source-shard.” Tylariel said with a dismissive wave. “We’ve heard ignorant Nephilim preach of these things before. They learn the futility in such things soon enough.”
“Futility?” Arcturus asked despite himself. He could feel Washington turning in his grave.
“Monarchs on Terra are backed by Archons, Apprentice. Pseudo-Revolutions have been a part of the Empire’s history for thousands of years. They always end the same way.”
“Defeated?” Arcturus guessed.
“No.” Tylariel said as she glanced at him with a mirthless smile. “Annihilated.”
Arcturus didn’t need clarification to understand the brutal difference.
“What are the plans for my training moving forwards, Mentor?” He asked in an effort to change the subject, and smother his irritation at Tylariel’s words.
“We’ll focus on your Psionic abilities and Aetherblade skills, since those are your only recourse Aetherically.”
“What about my Aethersmithing?” Arcturus asked immediately. The crafting skill interested him greatly.
“What are you talking about?” Tylariel asked as they walked.
“I have a basic ability with Aethersmithing.”
“How quaint.” The Archon said with clear disinterest. “We’ll organise for you to work with Alyerial when time allows. However, your focus will be on increasing your ability with your fundamentals. Psionics and your Aetherblade.”
“What about my armour?” Arcturus pressed. “I’ll be trained in how to fight in it, right?”
“What use would that be?” Tylariel asked with a hint of irritation. “An Archon’s defense is their power, why would you need—?” Her words stopped abruptly and she cursed, reaching up to rub her temples. “You have no elemental spellform, so you cannot create elemental armour. For all the benefits a kinetic shield might offer you, it is a pale imitation of true Aetheric defense, isn’t it?”
Arcturus wasn’t sure if she was being rhetorical, and found his answer a moment later when his Mentor continued.
“Yes, I suppose you will have to learn to fight and move in your armour. The first Archon to have to do so, to my knowledge. What a handful you’re turning out to be, Arcturus Regis.”
“I’m… sorry?” He said questioningly.
Good. Everything is always your fault. Jackass.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s actually oddly enjoyable. I like a challenge, Apprentice, and you are quite adept at providing those for me.”
“Happy to help.” He responded sarcastically, and earned himself a look of disapproval in the process.
“I will admit to a level of uncharacteristic lack of attention when it comes to your impediments, Arcturus. I have been so engrossed in the idea of training a Valoura that I never gave an appropriate amount of thought to your actual weaknesses.” Tylariel let loose a very human sigh. “We have not known each other even a full day, yet so much seems to have happened. I feel thoroughly dragged along whatever line of Fate you are walking.”
“It’s all been a little insane.” Arcturus agreed after a moment of thought for her words. “I woke up naked and alone in a forest, killed a Dire Wolf by almost giving myself an aneurysm—” he ignored Adam’s look of alarm “—and then ended up passing out and being saved by the kindness of unknown strangers, who had the charity to deliver me to an inn which also happened to have people willing to clothe a complete stranger.”
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“Not so charitable as much as self-interested.” Tylariel corrected firmly. “You look every inch the Archon, Arcturus, and of high birth to boot. There are many superstitions about the gods and Nobles among the populace, most of which the upper class encourage for their own safety. It is quite likely that whomever rescued you did so hoping the gods would show them favour — or they hoped to avoid being Smited for leaving you to your fate.”
“Actually, to that point… Where the hell was that forest?”
“Probably the outskirts of a Dungeon, in an Aether-saturation zone.” Adam answered from beside him as they walked.
“What?” Arcturus asked in surprise.
“There are several in every city.” His friend continued casually. “The government allows them to persist while keeping them contained, to a degree, within designated areas.”
“Your friend is, once again, quite astute. It very likely was a saturation zone.” Tylariel confirmed.
“Let me guess, they’re used for some sort of grinding?”
“Grinding?” Tylariel questioned.
“Shard nomenclature, Archon.” Adam answered smoothly. “It refers to intentionally repetitive combat designed to increase one’s strength and capability.”
“I see.” Tylariel said thoughtfully. “Then yes, Apprentice, that would be an apt term: They are zones used for ‘grinding’ by the Nobility and licensed Guilds or Adventurers.”
“Guilds and Adventurers.” Arcturus said flatly. “We’re sure this isn’t some VRMMORPG fever dream?”
Tylariel once again opened her mouth in confusion, only for Danica of all people to hurry forwards and quietly murmur to the imperious Archon. After a moment, Tylariel simply nodded and seemed to focus away from the discussion as they came ever closer to the Villa.
“Absolutely sure, dude. Terra has funky ways of doing things, and the System definitely sees Dungeons as part of itself even if the connection is a bit… Glitchy… at times. You gain all sorts of cool benefits from partaking in them, and from killing the Alpha monsters that spawn in them.”
Perception Check successful!
“Bosses, right?” Arcturus said after a second of thought.
“Yep.” Adam confirmed. “There’s all manner of cool things in dungeons due to the Aetherwarping effect of the saturation. Regular wolf goes in, murder-machine Dire Wolf comes out. Sometimes the effects are actually positive, too: Some creatures become benevolent and helpful, because of what the Aether enhances.”
“But not usually.” Arcturus guessed.
“Not usually, no.” Adam agreed.
“So you’re all licensed Adventurers?” Arcturus guessed.
“Yeah. All Nephilim are granted a license if we choose a combat class. The System is wacky with dungeons; they don’t really follow identical laws to normal reality. A lot of them are like Tardises, but with murderous monsters inside.”
“So spatial manipulation bullshit.”
“Yeah, pretty much. There are usually about seven dungeons in the big cities like Luxanium, each with their own sub-divided sectors or ‘dungeon wings’. It’s not just random wildlife in there, either.”
“Don’t tell me.” Arcturus said flatly. “Demons and stuff?”
Stop thinking of Succubi, pervert.
“Sort of.” Adam said. “There are other source-shards and dimensional planes that are really, really different to the Source. A lot of the denizens there, for whatever reason, aren’t really as compatible with Terra as we are. Demons, Angels… Those kinds of creatures are from dimensional rifts, whereas what you might call ‘demented’ humans like fae creatures or Naga, Arachne, Kobolds, and Goblins and stuff are from source-shards where things went… wrong. A lot of dungeons have those sorts of life forms in them, though no one really knows how they get there. We just assume it’s System processes, though the natives will tell you it’s the gods.”
“Sounds like Church dogma.” Arcturus muttered.
“Probably.” Adam said with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure you ended up outside of a dungeon. Very likely it’s because of your own Aether density. For all that Nephilim have advantages with our ability to dictate how we grow, Archons are still no joke. Native Terrans aren’t like video game NPCs.”
“That doesn’t explain how I killed Geran, then.”
“Geran?” Adam enquired.
“The guy who was with Jess, Sumeko, and their leader Jakob. It’s a long story.”
“He was probably just a basic class without much advancement. You also have to remember that you’re a Nephilim and a natural Archon. Your baseline power, while not very impressive against someone like me or Tylariel, is incredibly rare and incredibly potent when compared to the average rookie or low level Terran adventurer. That includes Nephilim.”
“You?” Arcturus asked suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
Adam smiled at him slyly. “What, you thought we were on an even playing field?”
“I just assumed…”
“I’m level 27, Arcturus.” Adam said conversationally. “Danica and Andy are both level 25, and before they left us Alanna was level 23 and Amélie was level 29.”
Wow. I actually feel bad for you.
“Woah. 29?”
“Yeah.” Adam said quietly. “She was something else after everything went down. Relentless, man. She set a punishing pace through every Dungeon we entered.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Adam asked critically.
“Not being there. If I hadn’t been so fucking stubborn—”
“No one knows what might have happened, Arcturus.” Adam interjected firmly. “Worrying about the past is a good way to screw up your future. It isn’t your fault, man. You didn’t make her choose how she handled her grief, any more than you were the reason the rest of us handled it better. We all cared about you the same. She made her choice. Whatever else there is to say on it, you can’t take that away from her. It was her choice.”
Arcturus let loose a tense breath. “I guess you’re right. Since when did you become so wise?”
“I put a lot of points into Intellect.” Adam replied casually.
Arcturus burst out laughing as Tylariel finally came to a halt at the foot of a massive set of stairs leading up to the front doors of the palatial mansion.
“Before we enter, Apprentice, there is something that must be addressed.”
Arcturus looked at his Mentor in question, coming to a stop alongside Adam and Danica as the redhead turned to face them all.
“While you are my Apprentice, you are as good as family to House Rubastra. As your oathsworn, that same courtesy extends to your companions.” Her eyes travelled over Adam and Danica. “But be warned: With this boon comes equal obligation. You must and will conduct yourself appropriately, as you now represent not just yourselves, but myself and all of House Rubastra within Luxanium. Should you have concerns about your understanding of what this entails, there will be staff on hand to tutor you in the proper social norms.”
Intellect Check successful!
Arcturus could read between the lines: Tylariel’s House was in a bad enough state as it was given the recent bad blood between it and House Honorum. Aggravating that situation, even indirectly, could prove perilous or irrecoverable for Rubastra and everyone under its umbrella. He understood his Mentor’s concern, and he understood that her concern was for him more than anyone else.
Especially given his true Bloodline, and what its premature exposure could mean.
“I think I can speak for all of us, Mentor, when I say that won’t be a problem.” Arcturus said confidently.
Adam and Danica’s affirming nods reinforced his resolve.
“Thank you.” Tylariel said with a small smile. “Now, shall we join everyone else inside?”
“Everyone?” Arcturus asked despite remembering what Adam had said at Maurice’s.
“We could have likely arrived first, but your companions did insist we stop at the store that Nephilim had opened.” Tylariel reminded him.
“Oh gods, Sato’s.” Danica said in remembrance. “No matter how often I go, it’s never enough. I can’t believe he actually opened a traditional Japanese curry place.”
Arcturus smiled at the memory of the food. “A delay well-spent, Mentor. I seem to recall you enjoying the food just as much as we did.”
Tylariel looked at him for a moment, then turned away and strode up the marble stairs without a response.
The three Nephilim exchanged smirks as they ascended the stairs after the Archon, each of them absorbed in the beauty of the building before them. The stairwell itself was wide enough to fit ten people across comfortably, and even with only a dozen stairs: it spoke volumes of the wealth of House Rubastra that such an ascent — minimal though it was given the low angle of the stairs — had even been constructed at the entrance of the villa.
Damned if the Rubastras don’t know how to decorate.
When they reached the arched doorways leading inside the building, Arcturus was taken aback by the sheer immensity of the entrance hall. High, vaulted ceilings stood ten metres above them, with a pair of flowing staircases leading to a second-level overlook and landing that branched out into separate corridors on either side. The floor was made of white marble, with plush red carpeting leading to and up each stairwell. Light was provided by high windows above the entrance that let the sun wash over the interior, and by three stunning chandeliers hung equidistant from the doorway to the rear of the entrance hall.
Doorways leading deeper into the building were evident along the walls and at distant points across the room, and from what Arcturus remembered the entrance hall itself couldn’t have been more than a small part of the front of the palatial abode. He couldn’t quite fathom the wealth on display, even having grown up as affluent as he had. It was the sort of thing one might have seen in Elizabethan movies or Victorian television shows; not what was now his real life.
The fact it was to be his home for at minimum the next three months only added to how surreal it all was.
“This place is insane.” Danica murmured.
Arcturus could only nod his agreement.
As he looked within, he was even more surprised by a full complement of maids awaiting them in two neat rows within. As they entered and looked around, Tylariel was already speaking with a tall, imperious-looking blonde woman in a flowing red dress; her hair in a neat bun and a pair of half-moon spectacles over her blue eyes.
“Hey look.” He murmured to Adam and Danica. “It’s the Head Maid, or whatever. Wanna bet she has a full character arc about disapproving of me until I win her over with my heart of gold?”
Adam snorted and Danica rolled her eyes.
“You watched way too much Anime back home.” Danica said dismissively as Tylariel and the imperious woman turned towards them.
“Apprentice,” Tylariel said as she approached them, “this is Vivienne Dubois. She is the Estate Mistress and Head of Staff. If you require anything with immediacy, do not hesitate to contact her. She will also assist you when it comes to finding succour for any personal needs.”
“Well met, Your Highness.” The Estate Mistress said with a small, formal curtsy.
Perception Check successful!
“Personal needs?” Arcturus asked quickly. “Like what?”
“Sexual frustration is a potent form of self-destructive distraction, Apprentice. If you desire a bed warmer, Mistress Dubois can find someone.”
Arcturus spluttered in stunned disbelief while Adam and Danica grinned at each other.
“You two knew about this?!” He demanded as he turned to them.
“Almost two years on Terra, dude.” Adam responded with an amused tone. “We’re used to the customs by now.”
“It’s great.” Danica said enthusiastically. “Adventurers are especially free when it comes to that stuff, since we’re all seen as crazy anyway.”
“This isn’t a normal thing for you, Apprentice?” Tylariel questioned.
“Of course it isn’t! I mean, I’m from a pretty modern world, but I’ve never been told I have a harem at my bloody beck and call before, no!”
Several of the maids giggled at his outburst, and Arcturus felt his cheeks flood with heat.
“He was sheltered by his parents.” Adam said conversationally to Tylariel and Vivienne. “He’d fall into the category of ‘traditional’, despite not being a noble maiden.”
“Can we please move on?” Arcturus demanded in a mortified tone, feeling embarrassed to his core. It didn’t help that even Vivienne was eyeing him over curiously, almost like a lioness looked at a lone gazelle. He didn’t like the interest in her cool blue eyes one bit!
“Of course.” Tylariel said with a raised eyebrow. “We can make our way to your rooms and get you situated. After that, and after he changes, I will take Arcturus to the training facilities in the western wing. We have no time to waste.”
“Hold on, we’re starting today?” Arcturus asked as Tylariel set off behind Vivienne, and the maids curtseyed low before scattering, presumably to fulfill their tasks.
“You should not be so surprised.” Tylariel said as they were led up the rightmost staircase. “You’ll have time to get yourself settled, bathed, and change — after that we must attend to your lessons immediately.”
His eyes boggled at his Mentor as she glanced back at him with an excited, and — to Arcturus — terrifying smile.
“Congratulations, Arcturus Regis. Today is your Commencement of the Path of Kings.”
Gods help us all.