Chapter 4
Departure
Two days later, Valence was once again standing with Voin on training field 21, both of them watching as I languidly slumped my way in front of them.
“Are you prepared to leave?” Valence asked me when I grew close enough.
I glanced at the burlap sack on my shoulder and shrugged, its weight barely noticeable. “Didn’t have much to pack,” I drily replied.
Everything that belonged to me was now reduced to clothing, made up of the outfit I arrived in and those given to me by the maids—my phone, my collection of unfunny-funny shirts, the photos…all gone. At least it made packing quick.
“Understood,” Valence said neutrally, something I appreciated. Had he responded with a thoughtless “Good” or “Great” at seeing how little I owned, I’d…do nothing. But I would be annoyed!
Valence stepped to the side, symbolically moving out of the focus of the conversation. “Now is the time to say goodbyes, if you wish.”
I cocked an eyebrow at Valence's words, unsure what he meant, until I glanced over at Voin. Arms crossed and stony as usual, it might actually be the last time I see him, considering as soon as I left, he was clear to return to his post—wherever that was. Unexpectedly, the thought of never seeing him again did not fill me with glee, despite how much of an old bastard he was. Still, that didn’t mean I was going to give him a hug goodbye.
“...Don’t die lamely,” I decided on. Voin wasn’t the sappy type, and neither was I. Trying to say something lame like “Stay safe” would have been disingenuous at best and insulting at worst. At my words, Voin’s lips twitched in amusement, his arms uncrossing to rest on his hips.
“It is not possible,” he replied, jesting back at me for the first time since I met the gruff bastard. It was possibly the last, as well.
After looking over at Valence to do one of those nods that all men seem to instinctively understand, Voin thumped his chest with a gauntleted hand. In response, liquid metal sprouted from his shoulders, enveloping his head in an intimidating helmet. The blades and spikes that had lined his armor when we first met reappeared, protruding from the surface in a seamless flow. Donned in his fearsome, inhuman armor, he turned to walk away, but then paused.
“...Grow strong,” he stated over his shoulder, voice reverberating and altered from passing through his helmet, giving it an almost-growling quality.
“Aye, aye,” I replied, miming a salute that he couldn’t see, his head already turned forward and growing smaller as he walked away.“We going now?” I asked, my attention shifting to Valence when Voin disappeared around a corner.
Valence nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”
I was led through the labyrinthine halls of the castle, most of which I didn't recognize, having only traversed those needed to go to and from the training field and dining hall. After dozens of turns designed to confuse and disorient, we exited into a bustling courtyard filled with carriages, wagons, and people in all manner of dress. It was the first time I’d seen anyone other than servants, warriors, or other Heroes. Seeing the workers unloading wares, the merchants overseeing them, and the guards garbed in bright, flashy armor, I found myself unimpressed.
I didn’t know what I was expecting—perhaps fantastical spectacles, perhaps different species and exotic clothing, or perhaps just something otherworldly. Instead, it seemed like an ordinary, if ancient, society. The only thing that told me I was stuck in another world were the horse-drawn vehicles and a weird guy in a hooded cloak floating books over his hands. I glanced over at him once more, making sure I wasn’t about to be collateral damage in his revenge on his bullies or something, but he seemed to just be entering the castle.
Valence and I flowed easily through the crowd, most parting immediately for the large man in armor, and some greeting him with familiarity, which he returned. Eventually, we arrived at a large, opulent carriage—almost ostentatious with its obvious value.
Harnessed to the carriage were two of the largest horses I had ever seen. I had been horseback riding before due to my sister’s interest in the beasts, so I knew what a normal-sized horse looked like. What stood before me was far beyond that. Their withers—the highest point on their back—were well over my head, at least seven feet tall. Checking below—which wasn’t hard to do—I noticed that both were females despite their immense size.
It wasn’t just their size that made them remarkable. The one on the left had a white coat with yellow accents and a mane of vibrant flaxen, while the one on the right had an auburn coat that bordered on crimson, its mane black as shadow.
“Is this normal?” I asked Valence in wonder, jerking a thumb at the colossal horses. Looking around at the other horses in the courtyard, I saw that none even approached their size.
Valence chuckled at the question as he strode towards the beasts, taking off one of his gauntlets to scratch affectionately at the white one’s chin. The horse leaned into his touch, her nickers a bassy, rumbling sound, as if it were coming from an engine instead of an animal.
“No, they aren’t normal. Rose and Daisy are special—the strongest and kindest horses you’ll ever meet,” he praised with obvious pride in his voice as he continued to stroke the white horse, who whinnied at his words. Valence smiled at her response, face twitching into a smirk. “Daisy here is also the fattest horse you’ll ever meet,” he japed. Daisy nipped at his uncovered fingers playfully with a chuff, while the other horse slapped a hoof on the stone and neighed in amusement.
I looked warily at the horses, their responses far too aware for my liking. Furthermore, while it was nipping, I noticed that instead of the flat molars a normal horse would have, Daisy’s mouth was additionally lined with fangs far too sharp and wicked for a vegetarian.
In my mind, I resolved never to insult them while my fingers were near their mouths, not only because I was sure they could easily bite them off, but also because I seriously suspected they would understand it.
“They are very pretty,” I said as I cautiously approached the carriage, keeping an eye trained on the horses, who preened at my words.
“You ready to go?” I asked, placing a hand on the carriage door.
“In a rush, are we?” Valence replied, but ceased his petting and stepped away from the horse. “Very well. Daisy, home,” he commanded, before opening the carriage door and climbing inside.
Don’t you need to man the horses?” I asked as I entered after him, finding the interior to be just as opulent as the exterior. Plush pillows lined the opposing benches, and a table between them was topped with drinks and an array of fruits.
“They know the way,” Valence assured me, as if that were perfectly normal.
“Way to where?” I asked, grabbing a fruit from the table while the carriage began to move forward. The fruit was alien, colored primarily orangish with the firmness of an apple and the texture of a peach.
“To my estate,” he replied, settling into a seat and pouring himself a drink. “It’s a bit of a journey, so make yourself comfortable.”
Coincidentally following his advice, I took a tentative bite of the fruit, its unexpectedly saccharine taste making me recoil and my lips pucker.
“Ew,” I summarized. “Are we picking something up?” I asked, looking around for a window of some sort.
“Several things: food, water, weapons, and everything else needed for the journey.” Valence reached forward, extending his arm to grab a small knob I hadn’t noticed, pulling it to slide open to reveal our passing surroundings outside.
“Sounds good,” I replied offhandedly, looking at the world scrolling by. We were on a main road, made of smooth, bricked stone. Around us, I could hear the wheels of other carriages crunching against the road, but from my view, I could only see pedestrians. They were different from those in the courtyard, their clothes leagues above the workers and servants in terms of wealth. However, like them, their attire wasn’t outlandish or even that unfamiliar, reminding me of old-timey British wear, though designed to be more breathable for the modest heat.
Even the architecture was mundane compared to my expectations, the various stores made of plain brick and glass, with slanted roofs slated with tiles. The only interesting store I could see was a blacksmith shop, differentiated by its displayed wares and the several streams of smoke rising from its chimneys.
“Are you looking for something?” Valence asked me, evidently noticing the disappointed look on my face.
"Not particularly," I replied, my eyes still scanning the surroundings, hoping to spot something unique—maybe an elf or a guy with furry ears. "I just thought—I don't know—that this place would be a little more different. Compared to my world, I mean."I added.
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Valence hummed thoughtfully at my statement while I glanced between the fruit in my hand and the remarkably clean road. It’d be a shame to dirty it, but I didn’t intend to eat any more of the sickeningly sweet thing, and I didn’t want to hold it either...
Eh. Not like I owed them a thing.
I tossed the fruit out the window, watching as it bounced along the bricks, its loosed juices staining the previously pristine bricks before rolling to a stop near a curb. Valence noticed but chose not to rebuke me for it at the moment, merely raising an eyebrow.
“...Is it not comforting? For it to be familiar rather than jarringly different?” Valence said softly after a few moments, perhaps now fully realizing what it meant that I was a “Hero”–that I had been taken. Not that I held a grudge over it; I didn’t leave anything behind.
“Maybe for someone else. For me, it’s just weird. At night I see two moons only to wake up to an ancient, but ordinary world—albeit one with magick,” I answered, working my jaw as I continued to stare outside, not wanting to see whatever bullshit pity I was sure the other man was currently sporting.
“What is your world like? Does it not have magick?” Valence asked in curiosity, as if the idea of magick not existing was unthinkable.
I huffed at the question, an answer by itself. “If you count card tricks, sure,” I flippantly replied. “We did have technology that would seem like magick to you, though. Talking across oceans, going to space, stuff like that,” I listed, Valence looking absolutely fascinated by such prospects.
“Amazing,” he sighed out. “I’ve met those with enough power to speak to the other continents, but going to space? Impossible.” I raised an eyebrow at the idea of someone waving their hands and being able to talk to people thousands of miles away being considered ordinary, whilst even the notion of space travel seemed utterly far-fetched. But then again–magick.
“Do you miss it?” He abruptly asked, making me glance over at him in confusion, seeing his features morphed entirely in curiosity.
“Miss what? My world?” I replied, more to myself than him. Perhaps surprisingly–even to myself–it was the first time I thought about the question. I pondered it for several, long moments, reminiscing the world being at my fingertips with a press of a button, recalling the hot showers and soft beds, and finally remembering the endless food in an empty house. Eventually, I shook my head.
“...No. Not really,” I answered quietly, turning back to peer out at the passing streets, continuing to see nothing extraordinary.
“I see,” he replied, though I doubted he did. “Ever had a girlfriend?”
“"What?" I blurted out, briefly questioning if I had heard him correctly. When I turned to look at him and saw his small smile, I realized, unfortunately, that I had. "Yeah, I have. Back in kindergarten. She dumped me for a first-grader," I replied sarcastically–even if it was actually true–some heat entering my tone at the personal question. “Why?”
“Just getting to know my new student,” he responded innocently. “Have you ever laid with a girl?” he continued, and I felt a vein twitch in annoyance.
“Next question,” I said flatly.
“So no. Good. Those who’ve had a taste tend to seek it all the harder,” he waxed poetically. I was not impressed.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked in confusion and annoyance.
"You'll see soon enough," he replied mysteriously. Almost immediately after he spoke, the carriage made a sharp turn. Peering out the window, I saw that we had arrived at the premises of a grand mansion, surrounded by walls that enclosed a serene and meticulously maintained garden. The trimmed trees and elegant topiaries suggested opulence, whilst the dozen servants standing before the imposing wooden doors demanded respect. Recalling Valence's earlier remark about our destination, I turned to him for answers.
"Is this your place?" I asked, genuinely surprised. I had already suspected Valence's wealth from his ornate armor, his title as Armsmaster, and now the opulent carriage, but as I gaped at his mega-mansion, it still surpassed my expectations.
"It is," he replied proudly. "It was built by my ancestor centuries ago. Perhaps I'll give you a tour when we return,” he offered.
The carriage halted at the entrance, a servant immediately and swiftly approaching to open the doors for us.
"Welcome back, Master Valence," the man greeted respectfully, his attention solely on Valence. He seemed to be a butler, dressed in a sharp tuxedo of sorts and exuding picturesque refinement despite his obvious role as a servant. His features were aged and his hair a neatly trimmed gray, but he still filled out his uniform with robust muscles.
“Good to be back, Gerald,” Valence replied easily, stepping out of the carriage. I followed suit, observing the rest of the servants who stood with impeccable posture, though they all made a small smile when Valence’s eyes passed over them.
Suddenly, thumping footsteps echoed from within the house, the sound of someone rushing towards the entrance. Without missing a beat, two of the servants opened the large wooden doors with the fluidity of long-practiced motions. Not even a second after they did, a blur of silver and bronze blurred through the doorway, flying through the air from their speed.
“Daddy!” The blur shouted in glee mid-air before glomping Valence with such speed that any normal individual would be bowled over. Instead, the force only caused Valence to lean back on his knees, a movement that seemed to be more for his attacker's sake than his own.
"Oof!" he gasped out theatrically, as if genuinely winded. "You've gotten strong, Flower," he greeted affectionately, his arms wrapping around the figure in a tight hug.
Now that they were no longer moving so fast, I could finally make out her features. It was a girl, around my age if I had to guess, with tan, bronze skin that contrasted nicely against her silver dress and hair, which were nearly the same color as Valence’s flowing locks.
“You’ve been gone too long!” she complained with a pout, moving her head back to look at Valence properly. “I missed yo-” She stopped mid-sentence, her face snapping to look over at me. “Who is this?” Her tone shifted to a politely cold one at the sight of the unfamiliar me, disentangling herself from Valence’s arms.
Now that she was separated from Valence, I could take in the appearance of her face. As expected, she looked to be sixteen or seventeen, if I had to guess, with soft, lustrous skin that my sister would have quite literally killed for. But it wasn’t her high cheekbones, her soft lips curved into a frown, or even the birthmark next to her pretty nose that stole my attention. It was her striking, vibrant purple irises, almost glowing in their intensity. Were my heart not a barren rock, they were eyes that would have transfixed me, perhaps made me smitten. As I was, I just found them interesting.
“This is Caelum,” Valence introduced, “He will be joining us on our journey.” The girl’s eyes widened at the news, her mouth opening and closing as her indignance overloaded her ability to form words.
“Hah?” She finally got out. “This-this prettyboy is going to join us?”
I raised an eyebrow at her words; was she trying to insult me? I just took it as a compliment, sending a wink her way that she scoffed at.
“He will,” Valence answered simply, giving no room for disagreement. “Caelum,” he began, looking at me, “This is my daughter, Violet.”
“Nice to meet you,” I greeted with a smile. I wasn’t being polite due to some notion of virtue, but purely because acting nice to someone who clearly dislikes you is—and always will be—hilarious. As expected, she didn’t return my greeting, harrumphing and turning her nose up at me.
“Violet…” Valence interjected, his tone admonishing as he placed his hands on his hips to show his disappointment. Violet immediately changed her tune, looking down shamefaced.
“...Nice to meet you as well,” she muttered, Valence’s continued stare prompting her to add through gritted teeth, “Let’s get along,” Valence finally relenting.
“Great! Now that introductions are over, we can be on our way.” He turned to the butler. “Is the wagon loaded?”
“Fully, Master Valence,” the man answered with a bow.
“Fantastic. Attach Daisy and Rose to it,” he ordered, and several servants promptly moved to follow his command. Then he turned to me.
“Caelum, do you plan on learning a weapon under me? Or do you plan to follow the path of Voin?” he asked, making me hum in thought.
I hadn’t really considered learning a weapon, as Voin stuck strictly to fisticuffs, which at the time suited me just fine. However, the reality of the outside world meant I wouldn’t be sparring; I’d very likely be fighting for my life.
I remembered my instructor's advice on dealing with threats, emphasizing the need for more than just fists when faced with danger. He taught us what to do if someone pulled a knife—run. I wasn’t the type to do that, regardless of the stupidity. So, I needed a weapon as well. Fists alone wouldn’t suffice, and acquiring armor like Voin’s seemed unlikely, so learning to use a weapon became imperative.
“...Any suggestions?” I eventually asked, though considering his title was “Armsmaster,” I expected my options to be wide.
Valence crossed his arms, tapping a metal finger to his bracers as he studied me thoughtfully. “Lean, tall but not gangly, and a decent head for fighting,” he appraised. “Not suited for brute force weapons like hammers or maces. Too bloodthirsty for a bow,” he muttered to himself, though I still heard it. “Sword, spear, or axe?” he suggested, narrowing down the options.
“I’ll go with a spear,” I decided on after a few moments of thought. I chose the spear for a few reasons, the largest of which was its range, a crucial advantage over close-quarter weapons like swords. Swords were cool, obviously–a weapon every hot-blooded male fantasized about wielding–but sword fights often ended in both fighters dying, the winner being the one who bled out after the duel ended. Spears, while not without their risks, offered a better chance of keeping my adversaries at bay. I could rely on my magick to mitigate some damage and secure a decisive blow, but that was a strategy that worked until it didn’t–and when it didn’t, I died.
But ultimately, my choice leaned towards the spear because, come on, spear wielders were undeniably cool. When I became proficient with the spear, I was one hundred percent going to casually drape it over my shoulders. If people didn’t think it was cool? Well, I had a spear that I knew how to use.
“I can. Are you sure that’s the weapon you’d like to learn? Despite appearances, it is quite difficult to master,” he warned.
"I'm sure," I affirmed, with Valence acknowledging my decision with a nod.
"Gerald, prepare the wagon with several spears from the armory," he instructed. The butler bowed and swiftly entered the house. "Violet, gather your belongings; we'll be departing shortly." Violet silently nodded and retreated, her demeanor still clouded by my news of joining them.
“She seems nice,” I said when she was gone, Valence looking at me with a stern gaze for my quip.
“She is, when she warms up to someone.” He reached out with a gauntleted hand to clap me on the shoulder, the force enough to make my back buckle had I my mundane level of strength. “She is also my daughter, and I'd like you both to become friends,” he said with a smile that quite didn’t reach his eyes, squeezing my shoulder hard enough to make a red barrier appear.
I stifled a groan when he opened his mouth to begin speaking again, one born out of exasperation more than pain.
The shotgun talk, I lamented in my mind, Or would it be a sword here?
Either way, I braced for the impending talking-to.