The gemstone clattered loudly against the marble floor of the audience chamber. Arwen made no attempt to pick up the fallen necklace. “What did you see?” King Blayney asked.

“I- I saw… you.” Arwen swallowed. “You were in some sort of room with mum, and… you told some man to order nearly five-hundred men to Alaru… to their deaths.”

Her father reacted as if struck, his face twisting in a single instance of weakness before he expertly rearranged his face to a more neutral expression. His eyes returned to his daughter’s and a deep, soul-searching sigh escaped his lips. “Ah, yes… there is not a month that passes where the faces of those men don’t haunt my dreams.”

“You… killed them.” Arwen’s numbed tone surprised even her. “How could you… do something like that?”

“It was necessary…” King Blayney said softly. “You felt my emotions during that decision, you know how heavy a burden it weighed upon me.”

“I... know, father.” Arwen’s expression contorted. “H-how many of those men survived? The ones that you sent to Alaru from the forest?”

King Blayney’s eyes searched hers. “No one survived. Those men, they all perished against the Helvetian forces.”

“…” Arwen gritted her teeth. “Fuck.”

For once, her father didn’t reprimand her use of crass language. “To answer your earlier question, that necklace is an artifact called the Light Gem. The Church believe the Light God Lye himself crafted the item, and it is said to contain a great deal of power.”

Arwen’s stare lowered towards the discarded necklace. “An artifact?”

There were two types of ancient items thought to be crafted by the Gods themselves. The “Light” variants, named artifacts, were said to be crafted by the Light God Lye, as her father explained. They were often associated with altruism and morality and were heralded among the Church. The “Dark” variants, however, were known as artifices and were thought to be made by the beastly Dark God Dahr. These were thought to be inherently evil and were attributed with vast amounts of power, but often required some sort of cost to be paid by the wielder. Many fairy tales and folk stories spoke warily of artifices, with the moral of all of these stories that, if found, the instruments of the evil God were better left buried in some desert somewhere rather than abused- no matter how tempting the promise of power may be.

The necklace being an artifact, and not an artifice, did little to relieve the Princess. “How did it do that? What even did it do?”

“The gold chain is human-made, and is of little consequence,” King Blayney explained. “The gemstone is the artifact itself. It grants its wielder access to a single memory, often one at the forethought of the target’s mind. I imagine… because I irrationally fear that my decision to send you to service is akin to sending those troops to their demise way back then, it was why the artifact chose that memory for you to view.”

“I do not want it to show me the memories of everyone I come across,” Arwen shook her head to emphasise her point. “I do not want it.”

King Blayney spoke heatedly. “I order you to keep it, Arwen. This is not up to discussion.” He softened slightly. “You are able to control it, however, though it may take getting used to. To activate, the gemstone must be in physical contact with your skin, eye-contact with the target must be established, and the wielder- you- must be consciously… aware… of the artifact. That last part is most likely what you will struggle with at first.”

“Why are you forcing this upon me?” Arwen protested. She did not want this… torture device! It would only torment her with unwanted memories.

“It can provide crucial information if you use it intelligently. For instance, providing the target with a keyword can influence the artifact to select a memory to your advantage. Saying the word ‘spy’ to a man may bring his misgivings as a Helvetian spy to his mind, forcing the artifact to choose it for your viewing.” King Blayney paused. “There is another feature, however.”

“Another one…” Arwen spoke demurely.

“If sufficient grief upon the target is inflicted by a death, the artifact can bridge you, the target, and the source of his grief into a temporary dimension. There, the target can speak to their loved one and make peace with their grief… or guilt. It is purposed as a healing method for bereaved individuals, but you will have complete control over terminating the dimension as its wielder. Normally, you would wait until the target is ready to leave after saying their goodbyes, but if you use it with a different approach in mind, you can weaponize it. Most people will be thrown off heavily by the sight of a dead relative or friend, which you may use to your advantage. I give this to you to use lightly, but ruthlessly in the case of an unexpected attack or confrontation. I hope it will not be necessary, but it may save your life one day.”

Arwen’s heart was calmed, but she was still struggling to process the intense emotions she had experienced along with the information dump her father was laying upon her. Regardless, a burning question entered her head. “Why did it not pull you and I into this ‘dimension’, then?”

“Likely, I do not have any specific deaths weighing on my conscience. My parents died before you were born, but I had time to say goodbye to them and years to make peace with their death. Perhaps, if I’d have more intimately known one of those soldiers I sent to intercept the Helvetians, I would have been forced to confront their death.”

“I see…” Arwen glanced downwards. “I don’t want to pick it up.”

King Blayney smiled sympathetically. “It will not hurt you, dear daughter. Once it has been used on someone, the gemstone will not respond to them in the future.”

“… and I have to bring it with me?”

Her father nodded. Arwen sighed. She did not want to be picking through the memories of random people, but it seemed her father was intent on handing her the oddest weapon she had ever come across.

-cut-

When Arwen stepped out of the audience chamber, she was instantly accosted by her retinue. They swarmed around her with plans and opinions without giving her a chance to breathe.

“Vampire-boy here needs a uniform,” Cai thrust his head towards Eryk. “So, we need to stop at the King’s Tailors to get him one.”

“I need a day to say goodbye to my friends, and prepare myself for the journey.” Gwyn declared.

Owen affirmed. “So do I.”

Arwen refused to meet their eyes, aware of the Light Gem burning a hole against her chest, where it lay nestled between her breasts. She was scared of its abilities- making her feel the emotions of other people in charged memories was akin to torture to her. She did not want to care about anyone, didn’t want to associate.

“Princess Arwen, are you okay?”

Arwen’s eyes snapped to Eryk, the vampire with the Helvetian name. How was it he spoke such fluent Deinian? Were his parents Helvetian immigrants, and their son born in Cyfoeth? Her mind flung itself to her father sat in that tiny, claustrophobic room. Sending those men to their deaths over his allegiance to vampires. Vampires. It’s all because of them... “Don’t talk to me,” she snapped so suddenly it sent the vampire reeling in shock.

The group fell silent. Gwyn spoke hesitantly. “Your Teyrn… that was uncalled for.”

Eyes! She had been staring into that vampire’s eyes! What if the Light Gem activated? Arwen cursed herself and her rioting emotions. She was a mess. “I believe it was justified,” she was vaguely aware of Cai talking in front of her, for once agreeing with something she said.

“I think it is clear that the Princess has suffered some sort of shock,” the vampire said diplomatically. “Why don’t we regroup after giving her Teyrn grace some time to recover?”

Get a hold of yourself! Arwen reigned in her fluttering mind. “Uh,” she mumbled and stammered over her words. “N-no, I- I think I am fine… I apologise for my outburst.”

Her refusal to meet his eyes was a sign of insult, but the vampire did not take offense. “No apologies needed. It is clear you are under some stress. Is there anything I can do to aid you?”

“What? No… I am fine.”

Cai seemed to empathise with the Princess’s discomfort. “Alright, alright, you heard her. Let us make way to the tailors for the uniform, then we’ll go our separate ways and make our preparations for tomorrow.”

“That is agreeable,” the vampire said amicably. “I happen to know where the King’s Tailors are. Shall I lead?”

Arwen didn’t answer, focused as she was on ignoring the gemstone pressed against her chest. Cai shrugged after a moment of silence. “Sure thing, vampire.”

Gwyn frowned but stayed silent. Owen, who had remained silent the entire conversation, appeared comfortable despite the tense air. Regardless, they set off following the vampire, leaving Arwen deep in thought, focusing on how to eliminate the contact with the Light Gem. She could take it off, but if father were to catch her…

Cai shot her an odd look as they walked, and Arwen made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Her face dropped as panic-

CAI HUWS WAS afflicted with a rage so intense it near-blinded him. His fists were clenched by his sides so hard the entirety of his arms shook. The body of his sister lay limp on the cold dirt in front of him. Her black hair swayed gently in the cold wind, framing a face so unbelievably pale that it physically hurt Cai to look at. Poor, poor Brynne. She was the smart one in the family- the girl who smiled as she learnt about finances with mother, a task Cai himself found gruelling and relentless. The same girl who lit up whenever he entered the room, asking her big brother about his adventures with the hunting party. He’d smile and regale her with the day’s tales, giving her a rabbit or a fox that he had killed to skin. She was good at that, too. Skinning animals, cleaning them, preparing the meat. He'd talk while she worked. She’d listen and then share gossip she learnt while helping mother craft weapons for the hunting party. For his last birthday, she had given him a sword she’d made in secret. He kept it by his side always, and swore never to let it out of his sight.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

A hand rested upon his shoulder, causing Cai to violently flinch. “Whoa, it’s okay…”

The voice belonged to an old friend. They had known each other since their early school days. He was tall, taller than Cai, and had brown hair and brown eyes. Plain features. He was one of the town guards, and regaled Cai with a look of guilt and sorrow. “What… happened to her?” Cai croaked.

“It was a wild vampire attack,” his friend, Harri, explained in a solemn voice. “She was strong- the vampire- we think she had recently fed. She was wild and unpredictable… probably stumbled across us and went berserk. Unfortunately, your sister was the first person she ran into.”

Cai stared down at her sister. Brynne looked almost angelic among the frosted grass, but the deep, vicious stab wound that had pierced her stomach was a mix of ugly reds and pinks. Blood was spattered across the dirt, staining innocent blades of grass with its gore. “The vampire had some kind of knife… there was nothing Brynne could have done. I… I- we… ended up killing her, the vampire. We’ll burn her corpse tonight.”

“You…” Cai muttered.

Harri leaned closer. “What say you?”

“You!” Cai exploded, pushing his dear friend away from him. “Why weren’t you there when that vampire bitch attacked?! You were supposed to be guarding us!”

“Cai…” Harri looked hurt. “She emerged out of nowhere… the attack on Brynne lasted less than a minute. You’re angry, I get it, but you’re being unfair.”

“I’m being unfair, huh?!” Cai screamed. His vision swam as tears filled his eyes. “I’m being unfair?! My sister is dead! Gone! She’s nothing! No more life, not anymore! And where does that leave me? Huh? What am I to do now?!”

Harri said nothing as Cai screamed and screamed until his throat ran raw. The tears seemed endless, as was Cai’s rage. The hate and vitriol that spewed from his mouth was something Harri would never forget, and although he forgave his dear friend for it, the barrier between them it created would invariably cause the two to drift apart. “I’m getting out of here!” Cai finished his crazed screeching. “I can’t bear to look at her anymore.”

“Cai, where are-?”

“Shut up!” Cai yelled over his shoulder. “Shut. Up!”

And so, Cai walked. He walked and walked until his legs gave out hours later. He fell to the ground and, almost inescapably, the rush of grief and subsequent tears wracked his body once more. He pressed his forehead against the sodden earth and sobbed. He wept as hail from a storm that had started a mere hour ago pelted the back of his head. And when he finished crying, he sat upright on his knees and drew his sword. The sword Brynne made for him. His fondest memory of her. He would never let that sword go, never.

Briefly, Cai considered suicide. The thought came so suddenly it shocked him to his very core. And he was tempted. Tempted to use the blade to cut off the grief from his soul. But he focused himself on breathing. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. He stayed like that, breathing and shivering in the cold until his grief and rage dulled to a point he could string coherent thoughts together. He looked upwards to the sky, where tiny balls of hail fell from the grey clouds, and opened his mouth.

“I love you, Brynne.”

Arwen gasped and almost fell forward, causing Cai to reach out to steady her. The rest of the group whirled around to the bedraggled Princess. “Whoa, it’s okay.” Cai soothed. “What happened? Did you trip?”

“No, it’s n-nothing,” Arwen blinked, fighting the tears that came with such surges of emotion Cai had felt in his memory. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, ignoring the odd looks being exchanged by her retinue. “I… I merely thought I saw a spider.”

“A spider?” Gwyn raised a brow. “… and you reacted like that?”

“I am deathly afraid.”

“A spider… in the middle of the street? Sorry, but you’re not convincing us,” Cai stated.

“Cai!” Gwyn cried, outraged by his fellow knight’s rudeness.

“What? It’s clear something’s going on with her. She left the audience chamber looking like she’d witnessed a murder or something, then gets all silent and weird afterwards… and now this.”

Gwyn shook his head in disapproval. “Whatever is wrong with Princess Arwen is not our business.”

“Like hell it is when we’re her retainers!” Cai growled. “We’ve both seen that look before, Gwyn. That’s the look we always see on the men after witnessing something traumatic after a skirmish. I remember one guy who watched his best friend’s guts get spread from a gash in his stomach- all over the floor! He had the exact same look. I want to know what’s going on! How can we protect her if she’s keeping secrets?”

The vampire seemed perplexed, and tried to appeal to Owen with a confused look, but the latter ruthlessly refused to meet his gaze. Gwyn appeared torn between arguing with Cai and supporting the recovering Princess. In the end, Arwen was the one to regain control. It helped her to remind herself that none of it was real. The emotions she felt in those memories weren’t hers, nor was the cause of those emotions. Except they kind of… were…

“I’m fine, seriously,” she raised a reassuring hand, “just need a moment, is all.”

“Let’s give her time,” Gwyn placed a hand on Cai’s shoulder. “We’ll get Eryk’s uniform and meet her back, alright?”

“No,” Cai shook his head. “I will stay with her.”

“No,” Arwen stood straight. “I will go with you. Eryk… please continue.”

To his credit, the vampire took her sudden demand in stride. As they walked, Arwen couldn’t help but spy upon the sword in Cai’s scabbard. It was well-crafted, but almost certainly standard issue Cyfoethian army equipment. She wondered what had happened to Brynne’s gift.

-cut-

The King’s Tailors, despite its fancy name, was a rather industrial rectangular building as opposed to the more regal and ornamental design Arwen had expected when she last visited the place Gods know how many years ago. Rows upon rows of mahogany wood desks each fitted with sewing equipment were lined up and were occupied by hunched over men and women alike staring intently at fabrics of varying colours and sizes. Their feet made swaying motions upon a platform underneath each table, pumping the sewing equipment into stitching their designs onto cloth canvases as they delicately moved their fabric around the table. The tailor was abuzz with machinery noise and quiet chatter. People constantly weaved their way through each table to reach an unknown purpose. Arwen tracked one of those people as the party waited, watching a waiflike woman enter a white door and disappear. The walls were coloured an odd grey that reminded the Princess of steel, while the roof was a beautiful clear glass which illuminated the room in a natural glow. Attached to the walls on metallic-black candleholders were tall white candles, puffed up near the wick by dried bits of wax that had dribbled down the sides when melting.

“How can I help you?” a friendly voice called out. Out of the crowd of bustling people at work, a short, portly man with sideburns and a bald head stepped up to greet them. Arwen inwardly cringed when she felt his eyes lock upon her face, but thankfully nothing happened. “Oh my! What esteemed company we are graced with today. Everyone!” the man shouted behind him, “give the Princess a welcome, will you?!”

At once, every man and woman who had been hard at work on their clothes stood to attention and bellowed in unison. “Greetings, your Teyrn grace! It is an honour!”

Arwen would normally be delighted by such an affirmation of her superior status, but all she was able to offer was a small smile. Curse this thing, she thought, snatching the Light Gem around her neck and unceremoniously stuffing the necklace into her trouser pocket. I cannot live like this, afraid to meet someone’s gaze. She cleared her throat and smiled, feeling their show of respect soothe her soul.

“We need a uniform for our friend here.” Cai jerked a thumb at Eryk.

“The vampire?” the stout man’s eyebrows crashed together. “Well, military uniforms are made in a side compartment through one of those doors… we don’t want to make it easy for evildoers to steal any, would we? Let me get one of our tailors to take measurements. One moment, please.”

With a nod to each of the others, even Eryk, the man strode over to a nondescript white door near the far-end of the room and unlocked it with a key, slipping inside. Eryk turned to his new companions. “My gratitude for the aid in this. You see, I am rather new to the military and have not had the chance to order a uniform for myself yet.”

Arwen waved the vampire off, not wanting too much to do with him, before Gwyn spoke up. “You’re new to the army?”

Eryk affirmed this with a nod. “I am, though I have previous… uh, unique experiences, you can say, before my arrival in Cyfoeth. I know you must have doubts as to my abilities, but I am well-trained.”

“What weapon do you use?” Cai casually asked.

“A sword.”

The radiant knight smiled slyly. “Excellent. I’ve always wanted to duel one of your kind one on one.”

Eryk laughed. “I assure you, I would not make for good competition compared to a seasoned knight such as you. You may think me somehow strong due to my vampire heritage, but I am no stronger than a human without…” he seemed to stutter.

“Without blood,” Owen finished for him. Eryk nodded meekly.

“So, what’s-?” Gwyn started, but was cut off by the tailor man’s return. He was followed by a short young woman who gazed at the retinue with naturally wide-eyes, reminding Arwen of the doe she occasionally spied on her forays to Laswelltog with her father. The woman’s red hair flowed past her shoulder blades, enhancing her enchantingly vibrant green irises that adorned her heart-shaped face. She wasn’t conventionally attractive, Arwen surmised. But quite exotically pretty indeed. Her rosy opinion of the innocent-looking fawn immediately changed, however, upon sighting the same bat-like ears that Eryk had upon her head. Cai stiffened beside the Princess and muttered a small curse.

“Everyone,” the man smiled widely, “meet the best tailor in the military department! This young lady is known as Rhiannon Awbrey, and she works with cloth like no other I’ve ever seen. Rhiannon, please greet our new friends.”

At least this vampire had a Cyfoethian name, Arwen thought snidely. If her plain grey tunic and white trousers were to go off of, the girl had little sense for fashion. More likely a diversity hire by one of her father’s underlings as part of his vampire integration plan. The girl gave her greetings in a quiet, shy voice and bowed deeply when she faced the Princess. Arwen’s heart lurched when their eyes locked, before remembering the Light Gem tucked safely away in her pocket, away from any kind of skin contact. “Your Teyrn,” the nervous-mannered vampire stammered slightly. “I am honoured to be in your presence.”

You better be, is what Arwen wanted to say, but instead she made her request. “Him,” she stabbed a finger towards Eryk. “He needs a uniform.”

“Right away,” Rhiannon nodded. She approached Eryk and paused when she spotted his ears. The small girl appeared momentarily caught off-guard, but she quickly recovered and grabbed his hand. “If I may take some measurements in private with you, please?”

The lithe vampire appeared awestruck by Rhiannon, but nodded and followed her into a door marked in black bold letters; ‘MEASURING ROOM’. The tailor man politely smiled and excused himself, promising the remaining group that the vampire-girl would be “but a moment” and that he had a trainee to attend to. He bid them remain still and not interfere with any of the working members before leaving them alone.

After a brief moment, the silence was broken by Cai. “The measuring room, huh?” the knight smiled wickedly. “I bet there’s one particular measurement that girl would want to take from our vampire friend.”

Gwyn groaned, Owen smiled, and Arwen glared. “Don’t be vulgar,” she snapped at him. “Gods above.”

“All I’m saying is that our guy will come out one happy chappy,” Cai grinned. “Place your bets on how long he’ll last?”

“Cai!” Arwen exclaimed. “Seriously? Please!”

“I can’t believe a vampire is getting more action that I am,” Owen muttered quietly to the side.

Cai burst out laughing. “You speak almost nothing to us this entire day and then come out with that?”

“Guys…” Gwyn warned lowly. “We are representing the King here. Can we mature up a little?”

“I concur.” Arwen said tensely.

“Alright, alright, but seriously… what’s will all the vampires lately?” Cai asked.

Gwyn shot him an odd look. “They’re a dime-a-dozen in Cyfoeth. You just make it a point to avoid them.”

And Arwen was pretty sure she knew why…