Chapter Text
The dungeons of Munster were filled with the sounds of muttering prisoners, only cut through by the sounds of pleading and begging from the next poor soul set for interrogation.
When Raydrik brought them down here, Jeanne refused to let go of Mareeta’s hand, until Raydrik backhanded her with his gauntlet. Jeanne tasted blood from biting her tongue, but when Mareeta yelled and reached for her, Jeanne didn’t let go until she was forcibly dragged away from the other girl.
Above the ringing in her ears, she heard their captor speak.
“Patience, prince. Someone of your stature deserves his own cell.” Raydrik said, calm and mocking. “Or I could begin my interrogation?”
Jeanne, finally, went limp, and the two were thrown into separate cells.
As the footsteps retreated, Jeanne spat out the blood in her mouth, and rose to her feet.
“Mareeta, can you hear me?”
Her friend’s voice came in a brief echo as it bounced off the walls of her cell. “I can! Jeanne, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Jeanne got out. “Just hit me at a bad time. Bit my tongue, damn…”
Jeanne gingerly checked over herself. The ringing had passed, so thankfully no long lasting injuries there, though the side of her head and face that got hit throbbed with pain. It would likely leave a bruise. But, that was to be expected, wasn’t it?
She had made her choice to do her duty, afterall. To protect Leif no matter what it brought.
But she had never expected Mareeta to run out and try to defend her as she was ready to give herself up. And now they were both facing an unknown fate.
Jeanne continued to talk, even though it caused her face to ache. “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess. You don’t deserve—”
“Don’t you start.” Mareeta answered firmly. “We’re friends, Jeanne. And there’s no way I’d let you get captured alone. Don’t worry, I know mother will come for us.”
Based on what Jeanne knew of Eyvel, she didn’t doubt Mareeta’s faith. She wondered if Leif would join her in their rescue or if Finn wouldn’t let him go. Then again, it was better that way if the older knight didn’t let him. That would be for the best…
“Oh? Did you say ‘Jeanne’?”
Oddly, before she could respond, another voice rang out through the gloom of the dungeon. Jeanne squinted into the vague darkness just past the bars of her cell to find three figures emerging from it.
What appeared to be two boys and one girl stood before her cell.
“I could have sworn that Prince Leif would be here… that’s what we heard those guards muttering about, right, Asaello?” The girl said, tapping her chin in thought.
“It only matters if he fetches a good price.” The darker haired man, his forehead covered by a white cloth, muttered.
The girl pushed her face closer to Jeanne, who cringed away at the sudden intrusion.
She gasped. “Hey, he’s hurt. That bruise looks like it smarts…”
“‘Mm fine.” Jeanne replied, somewhat tersely. “And I’m not a boy.”
“Oh! Sorry. The clothes–”
Jeanne wished she had her cleric robes, and cringed further away from the bars.
Mareeta’s voice hissed from further down. “Hey! Who are you guys?”
“Hired hands, for this guy.” Asaello called back, before gesturing back to the other figure. Unlike the first two, dressed like anyone in Fianna, he was wearing a rather fine outfit: puffy sleeves, a sweeping cape that was styled as a sash, and tall boots, with his head covered by a feathered cap. Finishing off the look appeared to be a lute or some other stringed instrument hanging at his side, noting him as a performer.
He bowed his head. “Yes. I’m afraid my sister and a nitwit I know were captured and put here. We would appreciate the help, if you’re willing.”
Asaello scowled. “Oi, bard. What about our pay—”
“The repayment is yours and your companion’s freedom, of course.” He finished, and that seemed to calm the other man down.
Jeanne didn’t know what to think of this ragtag group, but she already knew she and Mareeta wouldn’t get another chance. “Deal.”
“Splendid. Daisy?”
“On it!” The girl took out some sort of tool from behind her ear and twisted it into the door lock. In less than a minute, the cell opened, and Jeanne hesitantly walked out.
Daisy immediately took her hand with a smile. “Let’s get your friend.”
It didn’t take long to find Mareeta further down the hall, and Jeanne sighed in relief as she rushed out and hugged her.
Even if it wasn’t long, they had clung to each other all the way here, comforting and protecting the other from Raydrik and his soldiers.
The bard came up to them as they pulled away. “Do either of you have weapons held somewhere?”
“No, we were captured without them.” Jeanne said. “I can use staves, and both of us know how to wield swords.”
“Then finding you was a boon.” Hawk replied. “It might take some time, but I’m sure we can find some—”
“Hey! The prisoners are trying to escape!”
A collection of torches illuminated the hallway, revealing several soldiers, all armed.
The bard turned. “Oh, well. Lady Jeanne, you and your friend should step aside.”
“Wha—”
Jeanne’s hair fluttered as an arrow passed just by her head, hitting one of the soldiers straight through the eye.
Daisy then rushed forward, unsheathing her own sword. “Sorry, but not sorry~”
Jeanne could already tell her stance was unpractised, and wanted to step in. It was only when Daisy dodged through attacks that Jeanne realized Daisy wasn’t aiming to kill— only to get in at least a scratch.
In a flash, all of the soldiers fell to the ground, either killed or felled by sleep. Daisy came back with a staff in her hands.
“One of them was a priest or something: here you go! No other swords yet though.”
Jeanne just decided to accept it. “Thank you. Are you injured?”
“Hm? Ah, a little scratch, but—”
Jeanne didn’t ask twice. She said the incantation, bathing Daisy in a brief aura of healing light.
“---Huh,” Daisy blinked, before smiling. “Thanks, Lady Jeanne! I was gonna use one of the Vulneraries I found, but, well, here you go.”
Jeanne was then handed a Vulnerary. What was to her a rare and scarce commodity seemed to be held by these soldiers in droves.
As Daisy handed weapons and goods to a bewildered Mareeta and a taciturn Asaello, Jeanne turned to their new boss.
“Do you have anything hidden in those poofy sleeves of yours, Master Bard?” Jeanne inquired.
The man smiled, then gave a brief tip of his cap. “You may call me Hawk, Lady Jeanne. I’m but a humble bard, trying to look out for those close to me.”
“Then why come here to set Prince Leif free. Are you working for someone?”
Hawk shrugged. “Prince Leif is an heir to one of the kingdoms of the Munster district, isn’t he? To be honest, I much rather have him alive than anyone from or under Grannvale’s thumb.”
Jeanne had heard that plenty of times before, but that didn’t mean most would be willing to risk their necks for it. As more torches rushed in the darkness, however, she decided to trust this ‘Hawk’ for the time being.
The soldiers get in close this time, and Mareeta ends up having to set up the frontline of their group when Asaello was stabbed with a lance.
“Hold still for her!” Daisy hissed. Asaello was forced to lean against her as Jeanne used the Heal staff over the wound.
Jeanne focused on her incantations, despite her growing nerves as Mareeta was forced to meet attack after attack. Thankfully, Eyvel’s training kept her steps light and her blade quick through their foes.
Just as Mareeta felled the last attacker on the previous onslaught, Jeanne heard a girl’s scream echo through the cells.
Hawk’s expression turned more stern. “Asaello, forward.”
“Right. Thanks, milady.” Asaello muttered as he pulled away from Daisy’s hold. Even though Jeanne knew it was likely still painful to move, he followed orders.
Jeanne nodded, going to Mareeta, about to wave it, only to be stopped.
“We might need it later.”
Reluctantly, Jeanne nodded, before the two of them joined Daisy and followed Hawk and Asaello.
The once narrow passageways of the dungeon seemed to open up, revealing the ‘general’ cell area. Rather than for one or two prisoners, the large cell in front of them seemed designed to hold at least a dozen. It was also illuminated by far more torches.
There were only three people inside. One was a dead soldier, another was someone with long silver hair leaning against the bars, their clothes dark with blood, and another figure trying to hold them up.
Hawk’s voice had lost any playfulness Jeanne had heard. “Daisy, open the cell.”
“Ah, on it!” Daisy rushed forward. As soon as it was open, the bard rushed in, and Jeanne followed with her staff at the ready.
Oddly enough, the silver-haired man, despite his state, didn’t have a scratch on him, even with the terrible state of his clothes. Even though Hawk ordered her to check again, she couldn’t find a scratch.
The girl, who Jeanne would soon learn was named Hermina, and was Hawk’s sister, continued to talk. “We heard you coming, and Arthur— he made the guy mad to try and get his sword—”
“It wasn’t fast enough,” Arthur bit out, still holding onto the sword. “I’m still not— used to using this—”
“I tell you over and over that it’s foolish to tempt fate by trying to have your inheritance bring you out of trouble.” Hawk interrupted, shoving what looked to be some kind of tome into Arthur’s hands, then undid his sash to wrap around the other’s shoulders. “Wear this until we can find you some new clothes. People will talk with all the blood on you.”
“Good to see you too, Hawk.”
“Hawk, is Annand safe? She’s still at the stable?” Hermina asked nervously.
“She’s safe. We can get her on our way out of the city.” Hawk said in a slightly more gentle tone, before turning to Jeanne. “We should go.”
“Ah, but, our things—!”
“There’s no time. We found you two, so we need to go before more soldiers come..”
Jeanne heard the sound of a click , and turned to see Daisy off to the side, having decided to look through some chests as Asaello and Mareeta looked on.
“Oh, this is fantastic!” Daisy said, before pulling out a sword with a noticeably… fierce guard. “Think I found an upgrade to my old Sleep Sword—”
“Um!” Hermina called out. “That… that and the lance are mine.”
“And the Wind sword is mine.” Arthur added.
“...” Daisy then scowled at the loss of treasure. “You two! You have such amazing gear, and you still got captured?!”
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t trying to fight…”
“At first.” Hermina finished.
Jeanne cleared her throat. “Should we get going?”
Everyone agreed to pause their various squabbles after that.
The halls of Castle Munster, despite the gorgeous tapestries hung along its walls and carpets decorating its floors, seemed just as cold and barren as the dungeon. The night was quiet as they all snuck passed any patrols. It wasn’t like Tarrah, where despite how small their family was, felt lived in. The castle here was more like a tomb.
They passed courtyard after courtyard, trying to find the ‘secret’ exit that Hawk spoke of, as the original way he and his hired hands got in wouldn’t work for a larger party.
“Fine by me,” Asaello muttered. “It reeked.”
“Eh, I’ve had to hide in worse places.” Daisy said with a brief shrug.
Jeanne decided not to inquire more about it. They finally reached the brisk night air of the outer gardens. Jeanne took in deep, thankful breaths, even as the chill hit her throat.
Yet, starkly outlined by moonlight, a dark shadow blocked their path.
Jeanne has seen tall and large people in her time, but the man in front of their group now was by far the tallest and the largest . Without a word, he drew a long, deadly blade.
Despite their numbers, Jeanne didn’t know if even together they could face down this man. Jeanne caught the brief movement of Hawk reaching for his lute, but then her focus was turned away.
Without a word, Mareeta pushed past Jeanne and drew the Iron Sword to meet the enemy’s own brandished blade.
Jeanne reached out to her. “Mareeta…!”
But Mareeta leaned forward, sword poised, the moon shined high, and made both drawn swords gleam.
“...!”
It was only for a moment that Jeanne saw the moonlight hit the man’s face, but, oddly, she thought he looked terrified.
No words passed between them, yet the man sheathed his sword once more, turned the other way, and marched out of the garden through another side entrance.
“... Good job, Lady Mareeta.” Hawk remarked, before moving to lead the way once more.
Mareeta sheepishly sheathed her own sword as she walked back in step with Jeanne.
“I know, you’re going to say that was stupid.” she muttered.
“It was,” Jeanne said. “But let’s be thankful for your audacity or our dumb luck.”
Mareeta gave her a shaky grin, before narrowing her eyes in thought. “That man felt familiar to me, but I couldn’t place where I saw him before. Perhaps someone who looked like him…”
Jeanne took Mareeta’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You can think about it later. We’re not out of danger yet.”
“Right.”
Along the wall between the castle and the rest of Munster proper there was a gardener’s gate left unlocked. Hawk opened it and ushered them out. In a few minutes, they all rushed into the city.
“I asked for assistance from an associate of mine to get out of the city unnoticed. They’ll get Annand out as well.”
“Are you sure?” Hermina frowned. “She can’t be the only pegasus in Munster, and you know how southerners don’t know how to tell them apart—”
“Hermina, despite your worries, there are very, very few pegasi this far south that I know of.” Hawk answered, and despite the obvious frown on her face, Hermina remained quiet.
Jeanne wasn’t quite sure how they returned indoors, but they were down one alley, then suddenly found themselves ushered by two people down into a basement entrance into what she could only describe would be a ‘war room.’
A map of what she assumed to be Munster proper was pasted to the wall, with various notes and points marked across it. Directly below it was a table crowded with chairs, with only half of them occupied.
The one that Jeanne noticed first among them was a boy, maybe a few years older than her, with green hair and two different colored eyes, wearing a bright white cape.
He stood out to her, though Jeanne wasn’t sure why. Yet before she could think about it more, a boy in mage robes rushed in front of her, grabbing her hands and causing her staff to drop to the floor.
“Lord Leif, is that you?! Is it really—?”
For the first time, Jeanne felt a small kernel of shame for her successful concealment, and she shook her head. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m not Lord Leif. I— my name is Jeanne. I’m Leif’s— Lord Leif’s retainer.”
The boy’s face, once filled with hope, immediately fell, and he let go of her hands. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Before Jeanne could, he then crouched down and picked up her staff and handed it back to her.
That made her feel a little bit worse, but she shook her head and tried to smile.
“It appears some of our intel was correct.” The caped figure said as he moved from his seat, before sweeping a bow in front of Jeanne. “Dame Jeanne, you and yours are among friends here. My name is Ced, and I’m the leader of the Magi. This is our headquarters.”
It was the first time Jeanne felt the tension in her body relax at those words. Even though Finn had taught her never to trust at face value, the older boy’s words brought her a sense of ease.
“Thank you, Lord Ced.” Jeanne answered, bowing in the way Finn taught her. “All I can offer is my thanks for your aid, but I will not forget your kindness.”
“Well, unexpected!” A girl in clothes similar for ease of movement to Daisy’s spoke up as she stood beside Hawk. “Glad you decided to rescue some more folks like I asked, bard.”
Hawk smiled, raising a hand to his chest. “Of course, Miss Lara.”
“Anything else to add?” Lara pressed. “It was hard trying to find some new clothes for you all.”
“Apologies, but my pockets are rather light at the moment.”
“Hah, the usual excuse of a performer.” Lara smirked, before playfully smacking his shoulder. “That’s alright. I know you’re good for it.”
It was very clear the two were familiar with one another: Jeanne would learn later that Lara had once tried to steal from Hawk, only to be caught in the act. Rather than call the guards on her, they came to an agreement regarding Lara getting intel on a patron of Hawk’s that was ‘mutually beneficial.’ The two continued to cross paths until a rapport of some sort grew between them.
“Dame Jeanne,” Ced continued, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “If you are permitted to speak of it, do you know where your liege is?”
Jeanne answered as honestly as she could.“I don’t. Mareeta and I were captured by the coast and brought to Munster. I dressed as and claimed to be him to make them stop looking… but I doubt he would have stayed there.”
Finn wouldn’t have allowed it. And at this point, Jeanne was unsure if there was a Fiana that still existed to return to. The last time she saw it, plumes of smoke were rising fast into the air from the once calm village.
Mareeta’s expression was grim. They finally both had the chance to really think about the larger consequences of their actions. Was it the correct choice?
“...We hope to regroup with him at some point, when we have a better idea of where he is.” Jeanne offered. Though she did her duty, she was still Leif’s retainer, his knight. Her place was at his side, at least until he was returned to his rightful position.
Yet, Jeanne’s response still felt awkward on her tongue, not able to convey all of how she felt.
“I see,” Ced nodded, before smiling. “We will help you out of Munster alongside the rest of your group, and do what we can. You’re proficient in staves, I see?”
Jeanne smiled. “Yes, I am. Mareeta and I know our way around swords as well.”
“Then we’ll find you some proper equipment for your journey. Please, have a seat.”
Jeanne didn’t need to be told twice as she slumped down onto one of the available chairs. It had been the first time all night she had gotten to sit down. As everyone in their group milled around each other while waiting, the mage tentatively sat beside her.
“I’m sorry for mistaking you for Lord Leif,” he said. “When we learned news of ‘the prince’s capture’ I had assumed…”
Jeanne waved a hand up. “Please, there’s no need. In fact, I suppose that means I’ve done a rather good job.” In a way, how she and Leif were raised worked like a charm, even when they were leagues apart.
Offering that little bit of grace caused the floodgates to open for the young mage, who introduced himself as Asbel. He talked in that small clutch of time all that he had hoped and dreamed for, ever since he and Leif parted ways. Jeanne recalled a few times Leif mentioning such a child from Hrest, or was it the times she played with Lady Linoan, he went to find Asbel? The memories began to blend together in her mind, but perhaps it was her own exhaustion catching up with her.
Jeanne felt a little guilty, hearing how earnest Asbel was about working together with Leif to make a better country. She dragged her feet into her loyalty.
As promised, Ced brought her a Mend staff alongside the Heal she had, and an Iron sword of her own. For Mareeta, another member of the Magi, Machyua, entrusted her with a short sword.
“This is heavier, but should be more balanced. Practice with it when you can so you can best use it in battle.” She instructed her, and Mareeta nodded.
Arthur disrobed and quickly washed himself of blood in the other room, as he was the one most obviously covered in it. When Lara brought a change of clothes, Hawk took them in for him.
Lara looked apologetically to Jeanne. “Sorry, we didn’t have any cleric’s robes on hand.”
“It’s fine.” It was probably for the best that she kept her disguise, at least to keep leading Raydrik off Leif’s trail.
“If you ever have need, the Magi will be here to help you.” Ced said.
“And, Dame Jeanne, when you see Lord Leif again, tell him,” Asbel paused, then deliberated, before smiling. “Tell him I wish him well.”
“I will.”
Once Arthur and Hawk re-emerged, with Hawk tossing Arthur’s old clothes into a bag, likely to be disposed of later, they all were ushered down another hallway leading to a tunnel outside the city.
“Annand, you’re okay!” Hermina sobbed in relief as she hugged the neck of the pegasus in front of her.
They were at a farm in the far outskirts of Munster proper, and had been given leave to rest in the hayloft for the night. There, Hermina was reunited with her trusty steed.
Jeanne had never seen a pegasus up close, though she had heard of them in Finn’s stories. How they were all from a place in the far north, only accepting women as their riders, gaining their trust if not raised in captivity. Some of her dreams were imagining herself taking flight among the skies, where all the pain of the world below would seem so much smaller than it was.
“Yeah, glad to see she’s safe.” Arthur said, though he grimaced. “Though, Hermina, maybe you could walk with Annand for a bit. You’re still a little green as a flier.”
Hermina turned to Arthur with a stone-faced glare. “Excuse me? I’m the one who got us here in one piece!”
“Yeah…”
“So? Why should you have any issues with my flying?”
“Hermina,” Hawk interrupted. “Not that we don’t trust your expertise, but… is Annand truly ‘your’ pegasus?”
Based on the silence on Hermina’s end, Jeanne fully understood then that perhaps everyone around her and Mareeta were, to some definition, a criminal.
“See? It was obvious.” Arthur said.
“You shut up!” Hermina fired back, before hugging the pegasus’s neck as she continued to chew on some hay. “She lets me ride her, so that’s good enough for me.”
Hawk sighed. “Nevermind, nevermind. We have other things to discuss. Arthur, do you still plan on going to Ulster?”
Jeanne saw Arthur wrap his hand around something that was tied around his neck, now more clearly seen with the cut of his new clothes. “...Yeah. I haven’t given up.”
“Why Ulster?” Jeanne asked.
He squinted at her, as if measuring how much he felt he should tell her. “My mother and sister were taken there years ago by Friege troops. I heard that they were taken to Ulster, so that’s where I wanted to start looking first.”
Hermina added on. “I convinced him to head for Munster first, so we could meet up with Hawk.”
“I’m glad you two did,” Hawk answered. “Even if the route to this was longer than first expected. But…” Hawk frowned. “Since he hasn’t changed his mind, then I’m afraid that’s where we’ll be heading.”
“Count me and Daisy out.” Asaello replied from his spot in the hayloft. “There’s no way I’m running afoul of King Bloom.”
Jeanne pressed. “King Bloom? Hold on. Just because they were taken by House Friege doesn’t mean—”
But Asaello pointed back to Arthur. “Silver hair, the bard gave you a tome and you have some sort of fancy magic sword. You’re from House Friege all right.”
“... Technically the sword is from my dad.” Arthur replied, before squaring his shoulders back. “But that doesn’t matter. Out of my ‘family,’ the only ones I truly count among them are my mother and sister, and I know they didn’t go by choice.”
Hermina awkwardly continued to pat Annand’s neck, while Hawk remained silent.
“I could care less about your reason.” Asaello answered bluntly. “The real point is, trying to kidnap— which, regardless of supposed honor, Friege will call it a kidnapping— will be dangerous, and near impossible. Ulster was House Friege’s first and strongest foothold in the Munster District since they invaded, and that’s remained the same for all these years. We’re out.”
“Actually, Asaello,” Daisy looked up from counting her loot, a stern frown on her face. “We’re not.”
“What?”
“Our deal with Hawk still stands. He’s the one that blackmailed that official to make sure that the kids at home would get fed.” Daisy answered. “No matter if we could find some treasure or another merc job, that’s the best guarantee for them to stay safe.”
Asaello said nothing, turning to Hawk to confirm.
“I don’t know how long the leverage I have will last for sure.” Hawk said calmly. “But last I received word, the Connacht orphanage will be financially secure. And if you agree to remain with our party until we reach Ulster, I’ll make sure it remains so.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s an extension of your contract.”
“Asaello.” Daisy pressed. “Come on: at least in this job, we know we could be doing some good.”
Asaello looked even more irritated, but he agreed. “Fine. We’ll stay with you until Ulster.”
“Thank you. Though it may not seem so right now, I appreciate it.” Hawk replied, before turning to Jeanne and Mareeta. “What of you two? I must admit, you were both invaluable to our escape, and I would be honored to have you accompany us on this next leg of our journey.”
The two turned from Hawk to each other, both unsure whether to agree outright.
“Fiana… Fiana could be in danger if we just went back.” Mareeta got out first.
Jeanne nodded. “You’re right.”
Neither of them said aloud their worry as to when they returned if all they would find would be a ruin.
Jeanne had to believe that Leif was safe. That Eyvel was safe. Hell, that even Finn was safe.
She turned back to Hawk, and offered her hand. “You have a deal.”
Hawk took her hand and gave it a firm shake in return. “I thank you. Well, I suppose we’re a rather merry band.”
“Oh don’t start with that.” Asaello groaned, before rolling over. “I’m going to bed. Wake me up at first light. Any sooner and I’ll use you for target practice.”
As soon as they entered Millefeuille Forest, Jeanne realized that perhaps it was a mistake to divert from the main path.
Though it was likely that they wouldn’t be found by patrols or other vagabonds off the road, it still wasn’t the best. Jeanne had come to find that among their party, only she really knew much of how to survive and navigate around this terrain.
“You’re quite the guide! I thought you lived along the coast, like we did,” Hermina said as a moment of praise, having spoken earlier of how she, Arthur, and Hawk were raised in Thove, along Silesse’s northmost castle settlement.
“I traveled from place to place growing up. First with my father, then when Finn took me in as a squire.” Jeanne replied, thinking back to those early days. “... We tended to go from place to place. It was only when Finn was near exhaustion that we were forced to settle in Fiana.”
Hermina’s eyes widened. “I see… it seems you had a lot of adventures growing up.”
Jeanne felt a wry smile come to her face. “You could say that.”
Their group came to a small clearing, and Jeanne decided that would be a good place to make camp. Using some of the money from Daisy reselling some of the Vulneraries got them some very necessary gear, including a few bedrolls and tents. Compared to some nights in her youth, when she and Leif had to huddle together under Finn’s cape and a bed of pine needles, this could be considered luxury, though she did not say so to her to the more ‘city-inclined’ of their party.
Though Hawk was noticeably wearing the most elaborate (and likely uncomfortable) outfit among them, Jeanne heard no complaints from him.
Daisy offered to do some scouting ahead while everyone set up camp, and Jeanne took the chance to check in on the enigmatic bard.
“How are you doing?”
Hawk smiled. “Quite well, my lady.”
Jeanne rolled her eyes. She had learned the bard tended to be secretive, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. “I’m not a lady, I’m a knight.”
“Lady or Dame would be efficient then, wouldn’t it?” Hawk answered, taking out his lute to strum a few bars. “Besides, I’m sure you would like to be called that title, rather than Prince Leif.”
“...” Jeanne couldn’t deny that. She pulled out the pink ribbon, beginning to fray at the ends with age and rough treatment as she shoved it into her pocket before being taken away from Fiana. Even if it didn’t make sense for a prince to have it, Jeanne couldn’t let it go.
“I can understand how that feels.”
Jeanne’s eyebrows raised. “You, you mean—?”
“Perhaps not the same, but of a similar sort.” Hawk continued, focusing on tuning his instrument as he spoke. “I do not quite consider myself ‘a man,’ but neither a woman either.” Hawk’s voice was wistful. “I suppose I spent too much time growing up trying to be what others… Well, my father, mostly, expected of me, that when I finally realized I couldn’t, I could be nothing but ‘myself.’ So, here I am. Hawk, a simple bard. ”
Jeanne tilted her head as she pondered his description. “So… you could only be ‘Hawk.’”
Hawk looked up to her, another smile crossing his face. This one seemed more genuine than others she had seen on the bard’s face. “Precisely. Just like how I assume you can only be ‘Jeanne,’ regardless of what roles you have to take.”
“... Yeah.” Jeanne closed her eyes, thinking about how Finn would scold her for thinking that way, but to realize that she could… it was freeing. “... Hawk, once we get to another town, could I get some different clothes?”
“Of course.” Hawk replied. “I should be able to find a tavern for some work, and I’ll make a small fortune from that, so you can adorn yourself however you choose.”
Jeanne snorted. “Nothing impractical.”
“But of course.”
The calm of their camp was broken by Daisy running into the center, out of breath but obviously excited.
“Guys, guys!” Daisy called. “I found a monastery!”
Mareeta, who had been sparring with Arthur, lowered her blade with a frown. “A monastery, in a place this secluded?”
“Well, some of them are, I’m sure. And it's all the better for us, since that means they won’t know we’re harboring fugitives.”
“I resent being called that.”
Daisy cringed a little. “Sorry, ‘Reeta. But, I think we should check it out. I mean, it’s a monastery, what’s the worst they could do?”
It turned out that the monastery Daisy found was, in fact, a Loptrian monastery.
Filled with bishops and mages.
Who were all armed.
Several times in the ensuing battle, Jeanne worried that they would all meet their end here. No matter how many times she healed her allies, it seemed the onslaught was endless.
It wasn’t until Hawk stepped forward and pulled out a tome, bathing the entire courtyard of the monastery with bright light, that the tides of battle turned.
When Jeanne could see clearly again, she noticed who she assumed to be the head bishop gripped at Hawk’s leg, speaking, but Jeanne was too far to make out the words. Hawk said nothing in return, and piteously shook the cloaked man off him, leaving him to fall to the ground.
Arthur marched forward, wielding the iron sword he had stolen from the soldier in the dungeon, and swiftly cut off the bishop’s head, before pulling Hawk away by the hand.
Jeanne’s focus was pulled away by Mareeta pulling her into a hug. Jeanne blinked in surprise, until she felt the other girl shaking.
Jeanne dropped her staff and wrapped her arms around her, rubbing circles into her lower back underneath her leather chestplate, similarly to how Eyvel would do to comfort them.
Though Mareeta had been strong during their confinement and escape, this was only her second true battle.
“We’re safe,” Jeanne said softly, before saying something more honest. “We’re still alive.”
Hermina descended from the skies to the courtyard. “I saw a shadow in between the windows. There’s someone still inside.”
Asaello was already readying his bow. “Then let’s go.”
Jeanne leaned back to look at Mareeta. “Stay out here, okay? I’ll be back.”
Mareeta nodded, taking a few breaths, before stepping back. “Be careful.”
“I will. I’ll just be providing a little backup,” Jeanne then followed behind Asaello, into the monastery.
The inside of the monastery was modestly furnished, with the most ornate aspects saved for the worship of their Dark God. Though the battle began in the middle of the day, the halls they traversed were bathed in shadow and shade due to the forest that surrounded it. All Jeanne could hear were the sound of hers and Asaello’s footsteps along the stone floor.
Then, suddenly, a door was flung open, and a girl ran out. She was brandishing a… candlestick?
“You scum have trapped me here for too long, I’ll—!”
“Woah, woah, easy there.” Asaello, seemingly too surprised to react in his usual gruff manner, lowered his bow. “We’re not any Loptrians, if that’s who you’re referring to. In fact, we just took out all of the ones here.”
“You’re… you’re not?” The candlestick was lowered, slightly. “Then were you sent by the Count?”
Asaello tilted his head. “Count?”
Jeanne moved from behind Asaello to speak. “Miss, we were passing through when we made the mistake on who actually controlled this monastery. I’m—”
The candlestick was then brandished directly at Jeanne, with the candles on the end of it suddenly taking flame.
“I know you.” The girl’s eyes lit with new ire. “Tell me, prince, do you not recognize me?”
“I’m afraid not, Miss.” Jeanne answered with an audible deadpan.
“How dare you! Is that all you have to say to me?!”
“Uh…” Asaello looked between the two. “...Dame—”
“Miss, if you wish to speak, then it would be better to do so outside.” Jeanne continued.
“Don’t call me ‘miss’! I’m Miranda of Ulster, and you will address me properly as such!”
Jeanne tightened her grip on her staff. “Miranda of Ulster, won’t you please come outside ?”
“...” The girl set the candlestick down, and made an exaggerated gesture for them to lead the way, which Jeanne did without further remark. Asaello kept casting side looks towards her, which Jeanne ignored.
Once outside, they found that everyone had gathered together, and Miranda of Ulster immediately scowled.
“... This is all of your forces?”
“Yes,” Jeanne said, ignoring the judgment of her tone. “Everyone, it appears that the shadow Hermina saw was Miranda of Ulster.”
The girl looked even more offended. “The princess of Ulster!”
“Miranda, the princess of Ulster.”
Arthur was, as expected, immediately interested in this new acquaintance. “Ulster, really? Hey, princess, have you ever met—”
Miranda backed away, defensive. “I will answer no questions until you all reveal your intentions! Especially, you, Prince Leif! Why do you travel with a group of brigands?”
All the members of their small group took offense to that accusation, despite it not being very far from the truth.
Jeanne gritted her teeth as she made her formal bow. “Princess Miranda, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. My name is Jeanne, and I’m a knight and retainer to Prince Leif.”
“...” For a second, Jeanne wasn’t sure that Miranda believed her, until she crossed her arms. “Very well. Then I demand you escort me to Prince Leif immediately.”
“I’m afraid I cannot, Princess.”
“And why not?!” Miranda fired, before shoving a finger against her breastplate. “You’re his knight! How can you have lost him!”
Jeanne felt the decorum Finn instructed her to always keep begin to crumble.
“... It is, a very long story, Princess—”
“Are you trying to mock me, Prince? Do you think I have forgotten how it was your fault that my father is dead?!”
Jeanne reached a hand out and shoved the other girl away from her, causing her to stumble back, and nearly trip on the ground.
“How… how dare you…!”
“How dare I?” Jeanne stepped forward, now on the offensive. “How dare I? I told you before that I’m not him, so stop calling me Prince Leif! And even if I was, why would I ever give a pompous, guilt-tripping brat like you the time of day?!”
Miranda’s fierce mask dropped, before she screamed, reaching out, whether to claw at or shake Jeanne, it was unclear, as the two of them were pulled away from each other before either could make contact.
The courtyard, once filled with Miranda’s screams of rage, fell silent.
Jeanne looked up to see Miranda having gone limp, clutching her throat, but nothing coming out.
Jeanne paled. Magic? Did one of the Loptrians survive?
A calm, measured voice rang out from the forest. “Princess Miranda, you shouldn’t be so quick to judge people, especially those who come to your aid.”
Miranda immediately turned to the open gate, shaking off Arthur, who had pulled her back, and marched to seemingly meet the figure connected to the voice.
It was a another girl, though this one looked younger, and she carried what could only have been a Silence staff.
Miranda fiercely pointed at the staff, then back at herself, before stomping her foot.
The girl smiled at the pantomime, before pulling another staff out and gently tapping the tip of it to Miranda’s lips, letting the princess speak once more.
“---...You have an odd way of lecturing, Sara.” Miranda answered.
“Hm, well, I found that’s the best way to settle things so far in my experience.”
Jeanne tensed up, worried what this meant, but the girl, Sara, looked at all of them calmly.
“I had gone for a walk, only to hear quite a few voices back at the monastery, which was strange. So many of the voices are dull and barren to hear, save for yours, Miranda.” She then turned large, light blue eyes on them. “But so many of you… the voices from you have such an interesting sound! Seemingly divided, but conjuring into a whole…”
Sara approached, and everyone seemed too shocked to attack. She approached Hawk first.
“Save for you. You’re quiet.”
Hawk frowned, before giving a more appropriate smile. “I’m afraid I’m a bard by trade, my lady… Sara, was it not?”
“Yes, child of Canis.” Sara answered, reaching up to play with a lock of her hair thoughtfully. “You abandoned your post, so I think I was destined to take your place… well, I’m glad that particular future will not find us anymore.”
Hermina immediately turned her lance towards the girl, but Hawk raised his hand to stop her.
“...As am I, Lady Sara.” Hawk answered.
Sara smiled, seemingly unbothered by the threat of being impaled, before she then approached Jeanne.
“Daughter of Cross Knight Eve, you are a true knight.” Sara said, and then, reached for her hand. Jeanne was too shocked to pull away, as her hand cupped hers. “Your voice is so lovely, even though it’s so sad…”
“I, Lady Sara, I was just… rather cruel to your friend.” Jeanne admitted, feeling too awkward to go along with it. “That wasn’t very ‘knightly.’”
“It’s okay. Miranda tends to give a bad impression at first. Besides, you were only trying to protect your lord, weren’t you?”
Jeanne wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but Sara continued to talk, gently swaying their joint hands back and forth.
“I want to be your friend, too. Can we be friends?”
“... Er, I suppose so?”
“What?!” Asaello finally seemed to find his own chance to speak. “Hang on, you’re a Loptrian aren’t you? We just killed everyone you knew!”
“None of those people cared about me.” Sara replied calmly. “They only took care of me because they were afraid of my grandfather, and I hate my grandfather. Why should I care?”
Asaello fumbled for another explanation, but seemingly found none, so he shut his mouth and scowled.
Hawk walked over to both Sara and Jeanne. “Lady Sara, we’re heading for Ulster. If you and Princess Miranda wish to, you may come with us. However, as you can see from our party, we travel… light.”
“We would like to go with you.”
“H-hey, Sara, don’t speak for me—”
“But Ulster is your home, isn’t it?” Sara frowned. “You always wanted to go back, and now this is your chance. Besides, if you stay here, someone else from the Lopt Sect will come here eventually, or the empire.”
“... Fine,” Miranda answered, but did not look back at Jeanne as she did. “So be it.”
Sara smiled again, then turned back to Jeanne. “Before we leave, there are dresses here for you: let me show you.”
As she was pulled back into the monastery, Jeanne looked at Mareeta with a brief flash of fear, and Mareeta loudly announced to be coming too.
Despite the ups and downs of the day, Jeanne could only feel relieved when she was able to dress how she liked again.
She felt less like she was playing her role, and more like herself.
Several days later, there was a tentative truce between Jeanne and Princess Miranda. However, most of it was due to neither of them speaking to the other, though Sara seemed to spend equal time between them both. What was also welcome was that the strange girl had a better idea of how to navigate through Millefeuille, and noted the enchantments placed throughout that were a means of concealing the monastery.
“It was really lucky that you came to the monastery by pure accident.” she said.
Daisy was still glum about it. “I didn’t feel that lucky at the time, you know…”
“But we do feel lucky now! A Princess and a Priestess, it’s a big stroke of luck!” Arthur said. There seemed to be an over-excited air about him, as if he saw the ending of a long journey nobody else did.
Hermina was flying on Annand again, barely viewable above the tree canopy, and yelled down to them that she saw the edge of the forest ahead.
All of them began to move faster, anticipating what would await them.
Sure enough, the forest shifted to woodland, before opening up fully to grassy, likely cleared fields for livestock. Daisy began to crow and frolic, dragging Asaello and Mareeta along to join her. Annand coasted along the wind currents in the open air, while Hermina laughed in delight. Hawk settled on a nearby rock, and began to play a song, while Arthur sang a song that reminded Jeanne of the sea shanties she heard along the coast. Miranda stood nearby, looking out to the horizon to something only she could probably see.
Jeanne covered her eyes from the shine of the sun around them, feeling the edge of the dress Sara had found for her catch against the blades of grass.
Sara looked tranquil among their surroundings, before turning back to her. Jeanne wondered if she wanted a hood to cover her pale skin, but instead, she said. “The brambles won’t catch your ribbon now. You should wear it.”
Jeanne blinked, before feeling against the pocket where she stored her ribbon. She pulled it out, and wordlessly tied it back in her hair, letting its ends blow in the winds.
She didn’t know if they were truly any closer to Ulster, to Leonster, or back to Leif, but at the very least, this was now a path Jeanne could choose for herself.
Leif felt himself growing more and more desperate by the day.
They had gathered forces from Fiana and nearby to follow Raydrik’s trail, but somewhere down the road, they had lost his trail, which meant they had lost the girls, too.
Leif knew why, had seen Jeanne’s room ransacked, and her spare clothes gone. He had known what she did.
Surprisingly, when he demanded they follow them, Finn didn’t object, he simply followed. Leif wondered if he felt guilty about it, too. Once faced with the reality of what Jeanne had done to protect him. Or perhaps he felt guilty that Mareeta got tossed into it, even if it meant Eyvel joined them.
He knew Eyvel didn’t blame him, but as the last one left, he couldn’t stop his growing guilt and shame.
Finn had told him he was a prince, but was it always the place of a prince to let those dear to him sacrifice themselves?
That day, they had passed through a relatively quiet village. Save for the few sallow faces they passed, not many were found out of their homes or shops.
Finn said he would try to go find lodgings for them for the moment. Everyone looked pretty exhausted, and it was worth the coin for that at least.
“I’ll go to the market and buy some food for the road.” Leif offered.
“I would rather you come with me.” Finn answered. Which is how he always framed things these days, making it feel like Leif’s fault for not wanting to agree with him. But before Leif could respond, Eyvel threw an arm around his shoulders, giving him a gentle jostle.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be with me.” Eyvel answered. “You go get our beds squared away. I could use a night without kipping under a tree.”
“...” Reluctantly, Finn nodded. August, quietly, followed him. Safy requested they find somewhere to repair her staff, which Ronan offered to join her before Lifis could. Dagdar, Tanya, Osian, and Marty all followed to help out.
It didn’t take long to find the market, though the pickings were a little scarce. Eyvel and Dagdar went bartering, while Leif looked for anyone selling dry goods. They had passed a mill on the way, so that should keep them well, but he hoped to find some more among what was available.
At the far corner of the market, there was a hooded figure in a small stall. Unlike the others, he seemed to be selling weapons. Curious, Leif approached.
“Good day, young man.” The hooded figure greeted him, his face too cast in shadow to make out clearly.
“Good day,” Leif greeted. “May I take a look at your wares? I do not have much coin, however.”
“By all means.” The vendor replied, before gesturing to the Light Brand attached to his belt. “You seem to be someone who appreciates craftsmanship.”
“Less so, and more of an inheritance, I’m afraid.” Leif answered.
“Hmm, still. You know your way around a sword. Perhaps I can show you something…” The vendor leaned down, taking something from under his table, wrapped in dark velvet. He rested it on the table and pulled back, revealing a beautiful blade. It gleamed like obsidian, its pommel decorated finely with tempered metal. It was likely magical or enchanted, but Leif could not tell what sort it possessed.
“It’s beautiful.” Leif answered politely, unsure what else to say.
“Feel free to hold it. See how balanced it is.”
“Oh, I… I’m afraid I can’t. I don’t have the money—”
“I insist .” The vendor leaned forward. “After all, it seems you are on a quest, based on those that travel with you. You should understand how to tell the quality of a blade.”
Reluctantly, Leif began to reach for it—
“Leif!”
Leif turned and looked at Eyvel, shaken from his actions. She looked concerned, before turning to the vendor. “You. What are you—?”
Before Leif could explain, the hooded man’s hand shot out, grabbing Eyvel’s wrist, and pressing it against the sword guard.
Eyvel’s body went still as stone.
“Eyvel— Eyvel!” Leif reached for her arm in a panic, only to barely dodge the obsidian blade that was thrown in his face.
Leif landed on the ground, watching in horror as Eyvel stood above him, her arm shaking as the sword tip pointed towards him.
“Leif—lad—” she said, though it sounded like her mouth was having trouble forming the words. “R-r-run… run, run…. die, die, die, DIE—! ”
Eyvel’s eyes began to glow with an eerie light as the sword fell.
Notes:
Meme provided by charisu:
The title of this fic was inspired by "Osmanthus" by natori, so I highly recommend checking out the music video or song on a streaming service of your choice. :D
Chapter Text
In the split second between Eyvel's scream and the sword's fall, Leif knew he should draw his own sword, that he should block. That is what Finn taught him, what Eyvel herself taught him.
And yet, all he could think was that's Eyvel. That's Eyvel—
Leif was knocked to the ground as Dagdar shoved his way inbetween him and the crazed swordswoman, the back of his hammer catching the edge of her blade.
"Eyvel! What's gotten into you?!" Dagdar yelled, but Eyvel's eyes were unfocused as she continued to mutter that ominous "die, die, die" over and over. "Something's—"
But Eyvel shifted and jumped back onto the table, leading to anyone still remaining in the marketplace to panic and scatter. She readied another attack.
"Leif, get outta here!" Dagdar bellowed.
Leif scrambled to his feet, but he couldn't leave, he couldn't—
"Dagdar, the blade, that's what's—!"
Eyvel yelled in unchecked fury as she slashed down the shadowy blade, hitting true.
Leif saw the splash of blood spurt out from Dagdar, then the ex-bandit roar as he raised his hammer for a counterattack.
"NOW!"
Leif, as he had done so many times before, ran.
It didn't take long to find the others besides Finn and August, who had rushed back when they heard the commotion. Tanya reached out to Leif first.
"Prince, where's my father?" Tanya asked. "You saw him, right? He went to check if you and Eyvel were okay—"
"We need to go and help him." Leif interrupted, about to turn back. "A sword— there's a sword that someone tried to sell me, and they made Eyvel touch it—"
"Something happened to the boss?" Osian interrupted, lifting his axe. "Well come on, let's go."
Leif was relieved at least part of what he was trying to say got through.
However, before their group to go back to the market, someone else exited it. And she wasn't alone.
Eyvel, using an almost inhuman strength, was dragging a bloodied Dagdar behind her, his torso visibly slashed and creating a stream of blood behind him.
"F-father?" Tanya said.
Dagdar did nothing as Eyvel dropped his arm, leaving him on the ground, unmoving.
"FATHER!"
Before Tanya could rush to her father's side, Marty picked her up, and Osian stepped in front of her, drawing his hand axe.
"Let me go, let me go! I have to help him!"
"H-he would never forgive me if you got hurt." Marty said, his own voice beginning to shake. "I can't let you…"
Tanya continued to scream for her father, and Leif finally was shaken enough to draw his own sword.
"Everyone should leave town." Leif's gaze focused on Eyvel and the cursed blade, its point turned towards him. "I'll catch up."
"You really think you could take the boss?" Osian shook his head. "You're out of your mind!"
"I have to try." Leif crouched into a defensive stance. "I'll distract her while everyone else runs."
Before there could be more arguments, Eyvel rushed at Leif. The dark sword slammeddown and created a rivet in the earth that Leif only barely dodged.
It didn't matter now if he wasn't ready to face her. Leif was already cut off from the rest of the group.
He ran through the sparse structures of the village, trying to cut down alleyways to escape or shake off his pursuer, but Eyvel was only a step behind.
It reminded him of his past lessons with the leader of the Freeblades, how she taught him that once there was no way to talk sense into someone, you would have to fight.
Leif shook his head, trying to stop the tears that were in his eyes from falling, before shoving box of supplies into Eyvel's path. It did little to help.
Eventually, Leif could make out the woods just beyond the village gates. If he got to the treeline, then he could hide, maybe even get the drop on Eyvel and get that sword away from her, somehow.
With a final burst of energy, Leif bolted towards the gates. There wasn't a need to look back, and to do so might be his final mistake. His lungs ached with the effort, his legs began to burn, but he finally crossed the barrier!
But there was a flaw in his plan.
The difference in terrain was supposed to help him, but as soon as he weaved through the trees, he heard the sound of rustling leaves. When Leif looked up, he found Eyvel darting through them with ease.
How? Had Eyvel always known how to move with such skill?
In his shock, Leif had slowed down, giving Eyvel the chance to slip through the branches and drop towards him.
Leif, finally, yelled the incantation to activate the Light Brand, but the prismatic beam only grazed Eyvel, who dropped and rolled to the side as soon as she hit the ground, before standing back up. Her once held back hair was now left flying around her. There was some sort of darkness forming around her, causing the flyaway strands to float eerily around her face, like she had been submerged into water.
There was no where else to run, so Leif readied his blade.
He apologized to Eyvel in his mind for being a poor pupil. To Dagdar for not being fast enough or strong enough to help him. Then, to Jeanne and Mareeta, for possibly dying here.
The sound of a horse's hooves in full gallop thundered across the ground, with a familiar horse and rider charging in between Leif and Eyvel. The gleam of a Brave Lance caught the sunlight streaming inbetween the trees, and Leif heard Eyvel's cry of pain once it struck true.
Leif had seen this many times, across the years. Of Finn rushing to save him and Jeanne, of killing anyone who threatened him.
Yet now, instead of safey, all Leif could see was his father about to kill the closest person he had to a mother in this world. All because of him.
"Finn, stop!" Leif screamed, grabbing the reins and using all his strength to yank the horse's head and causing the second of the Brave Lance's attacks to go offcourse.
In that moment, maybe some sense had returned to Eyvel, or perhaps it was merely some need for survival kicked in, and she dashed away into the woods, drops of blood scattering across the ground in her wake.
Leif watched in a mix of relief and fear as she made her escape, before Finn pulled him up to ride beside him, even though Leif was too large now for them to share the saddle. Finn said nothing after patting him down to make sure he wasn't badly injured.
"… Finn, I…"
"Quiet."
Leif 's mouth shut.
Finn's arm wrapped around his middle as he grasped the reins, and they rode on in silence.
As soon as they met up with the group, Leif was informed that everyone else was able to move and let Finn know what was happening to come to his aid. However, the small group that re-entered the village to find Dagdar was less lucky.
Though several corpses were strewn across the desolation from Eyvel's rampage, the only trace of Dagdar left was the trail and then pool of blood that had stained the ground beneath him. There were no signs of him getting up on his own, or being dragged somewhere else.
"But with so much blood…" Safy mournfully lowered her head as Tanya was crumpled next to Marty, the latter kneeling beside her. "There is very little hope that he survived."
Tanya's fingers gripped at the sparse earth underneath her, dragging her nails deep as it crumbled. "Why?! Why would they not even give us the chance to bury him properly?!"
"We don't even know who they were." Ronan replied, his face grim.
Leif gave a more detailed explanation regarding what happened at the market, which had August scowling in contemplation.
"It seems that we have a better idea now. Perhaps Dame Jeanne's deception was discovered, and now Raydrik's men have been sent out for you."
"But that merchant didn't feel like a regular soldier." Leif replied, considering how mysterious that figure appeared. "And I don't know anyone who could travel with such a sword without being corrupted."
"Then if it isn't Raydrik directly, it might be someone affiliated with him. Those who would have such an artifact…" August seemed to consider his words. "Perhaps it has to do with the Loptous cult."
The entire party fell silent. They knew about the Child Hunts, how they picked up frequency once the Friege army had invaded the north. The closer they traveled to Munster, the more rumors and news of children being kidnapped or stolen from their families increased.
There were whispers that had reached the distant Fiana on how they were reported to be sending children back to the heart of the Grannvale empire in droves. No one had knowledge of what happened to them afterward. Though they didn't mention the cult outright, those who had heard the tales of the Jugdral continent a century ago knew that the Child Hunts were a sign of dark times.
Lifis scoffed, attempting to push off that claim. "Don't joke about that, old man. Look, the assassin failed, didn't they?"
"At what cost?" Leif answered. "Eyvel ran further into the woods with an injury, and Dagdar, he…"
Leif saying her father's name brought Tanya to her feet, where she marched forward, reaching out to grab Leif's arm.
"… Tanya, I…"
"He was protecting you." Tanya said. "After Eyvel had to, and look what happened. Mareeta and Jeanne are gone because of you, too. How many people are going to fall to protect you, huh?"
Leif pulled his arm away, but he couldn't deny it. It had been his fault. All of it.
"I… I don't know." Was all Leif could say. So many had already done so, and empty words would be a lie. "I— I want to make it worth it."
"Worth it?" Tanya scoffed. "You got a funny way of showing it—"
Osian put a hand on her shoulder."Tanya."
Tanya shook it off as she turned to Osian, but before she said anything, her shoulders slumped, and she silently walked back to Marty.
Osian turned back to Leif, looking tired, but hopeful. "… There's still a chance that the boss is alive. We could go after her—"
"Osian," Finn interupted, his tone still strict, giving no quarter. "It would be best for our campaign to leave Eyvel be."
Leif bit his lip as he saw Osian's face fall. He wanted to go find her, too, but he was so worried someone, whether one of them or Eyvel herself, would die in the process.
"It is a strong enchantment," August offered. "From what you've said. It would take someone strong in magic to purify its properties. While adept, neither I nor Sister Safy are equipped with such skill."
"It would have been best if I dealt a clean blow." Finn sighed.
"Don't say that! You— you can't mean that, Finn!" Leif said, anger starting to break through his sorrow. "Eyvel is the reason both of us are still alive!"
"Which is why I should have given her the honor of a proper death. Lord Leif, with what we've done, have I not caused Lady Eyvel more suffering?"
Leif's hands clenched. That was such a hypocritical stance! But Finn was always a hypocrite. Everyone else mattered less than Prince Leif, even if he didn't deserve it. Even if he was still acting like a hopeless child.
"I'm glad I pulled the reins." Leif spat out.
Finn turned his eyes away from him, and said nothing else.
"We can find her again." August interceded on the argument. "It is not hopeless. Lady Eyvel seems a strong sort, and it took Sir Finn's interference to even land a scratch on her. If we can find her again and someone with the skills we require, there's a chance she can be saved. For now, we must move on. The Gate of Kelbeth should be a day's journey from here."
"Hey there, old man." Lifis, surprisingly, spoke up. "We were already running ragged before this. Give us the night, yeah?"
August looked like he would decline, but his eyes shifted around the rest of their group. He looked at Finn, who said nothing, before nodding. "Very well. Set up a watch. With the commotion in that village, it's not out of the question that troops will be sent to investigate."
Quietly, everyone went to their respective tasks. By this point they knew what they needed to do.
Leif joined Osian in gathering firewood. Unlike the hunts for grass and brush for fuel common near Fiana, the woods closer to penninsula's interior had enough mature wood to burn. Leif would gather broken off branches and strip them of leaves, while Osian found some larger ones to hack off and prune with his axe.
When they did this back home, there were always more voices among them. Those voices were gone, and they remained silent.
Eventually, Leif found the courage to speak. Or perhaps he couldn't deal with the silence anymore.
"Thank you, Osian, for what you did back there."
Osian paused, before turning to look at Leif. In the shade of the trees, it was hard to read his expression, before he sighed, and turned back to his work.
"You know, I'm also angry." Osian said as he hunched over to gather more sticks to bundle.
Leif's tentative smile fell.
"The boss helped me a lot, you know, being part of the Freeblades." Osian continued. "She was a… mentor? I guess. She took care of us. I know you made a mistake: prince or not, you're a kid. It's second nature to want to protect you, just… I wish you'd been, I dunno, more…"
"What?" Leif asked. Maybe he knew, he could do his best to be that. He wanted to so much, so no one else suffered because of him.
"…" Osian sighed again. "Forget it. Just, keep your wits about you more, yeah?"
"… Yeah." Leif replied, because what else could he do but say that?
When they got back to the camp, Leif quietly setup the fire, then sat as far as he could away from it and the others.
In times like this, he would usually look to Finn or Jeanne for comfort, but he was still angry with Finn, and Jeanne was gone.
He missed Jeanne. For so long, he could always talk to her. They were each other's best friends and confidants, and now, because Jeanne was a knight of Leonster, despite her never even setting foot in it, she had—
Leif shook his head, then pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes.
He missed his best friend.
The Gate of Kelbeth, despite the difficulty in getting through it, was broken. Apparently, Raydrik had been in too much of a hury to remain long. Jeanne and Mareeta were not there.
They did, however, find children. Many children. According to August, Kelbeth must have been an outpost. The confirmation of children being stolen away from their homes by the empire, and to be face with such cruelty felt awful, yet also unsurprising, at the end of the day.
They had taken his friends after all. Why wouldn't the empire fall so low as to kidnap other children, really?
One of the children bowed his head, a calm smile across his face. He had been the last they could account for amongst the children missing from nearby villages. "Thank you for saving me. I cannot begin to repay you for your kindness."
The village elder continued to bow. "Yes! Master Coirpre, thank the gods above you were saved! I don't think I could ever explain to your lord father if you were stolen away trying to do us a good turn."
Coirpre shook his head. "Father would understand, it's why we came here to check on you all after all. Right, Carrion?"
The cavalier beside him nodded, also bowing his head to Leif. It felt… awkward. He didn't regret his actions, but that a Thracian nobleman's son would be among them made him feel twisted up inside.
Finn remained silent, but he kept staring at Carrion. Leif tried to steal looks at his expression, but it didn't show anything. Maybe he was worried they might be discovered.
However, the young knight seemed to pay it no mind.
"Still… I know some among our number have been brought from a long way." Coirpre said, looking conflicted.
The village elder sighed. "I wish we could take them in, but we're already having enough trouble feeding ourselves. Friege may stop their end of the bargain any day now, trying to bleed us dry—"
The old man stopped when, strangely, the young boy glared at him.
"… House Friege, despite being part of the empire, has not backtracked on aid. It is an issue that our people are so far spread, and there's only so much to go around."
That was even odder. Though they colluded, Leif thought there was no love lost between the empire and Thracia.
August looked at the remaining children, who stared back at them with a mix of confusion and uncertainty. "I doubt many of these children know where their homes are, and we are due to go to Munster." He then turned back to Leif, careful not to use his name in front of the Thracians. "What do you propose we do?"
Leif wasn't sure. He knew to leave these children alone would be wrong, but… with every delay, Jeanne and Mareeta's own lives hung in the balance.
What was he meant to do?
Tanya, still wearing the marks of battle on her and only recently patched up by Safy, walked forward. "I can take 'em to Mount Violdrake. My father— I, have a hold there with enough room and supplies to last for a bit."
"Violdrake?" Carrion frowned. "Then, you're…"
"A daughter of a bandit, and a good man." Tanya stated without shame or remorse. "My father made his own fortress, and aimed to make an honest life for us and our fellows. We came to a friend's aid, and… he lost his life. I think he would be proud to use what he built to protect those who can't protect themselves."
Marty, hesitantly, walked up to stand beside Tanya. "Y-yeah. It ain't much, but for the time being, we can watch the kids."
Leif was moved by Tanya's words. "Tanya…"
Tanya looked at Leif. "… I'll carry what my father did forward, so you need to save Jeanne and Mareeta, got it?"
Leif bowed his head. "I swear I will. I won't forget what Dagdar did for me for as long as I live."
That, in the end, was all they could say in front of strangers. Leif hoped it was enough.
Coirpre smiled at the exchange. "Then we shall accompany you, Miss. At least for a while, and assist where we can. None of the border guards shall harm you while I'm here."
Leif was, honestly, impressed. Coirpre was even younger than him, and despite not having much in tools for battle, he was already quite the diplomat.
Osian, as nonchalantly as he probably could, walked up on the other side of Tanya. "I'll tag along and lend a hand."
Tanya bristled. "No one asked you to."
Osian shrugged. "I know you wouldn't, so that's why I volunteered. Halvan is holding down the fort back home in Fiana, so I think the place I should be is with you."
"…" Tanya didn't argue, but looked away from him. "Think whatever you want, just remember to pull your weight."
So, at the end of that day, two groups formed: Leif's and Tanya's. The former promised to rendezvous at Mount Violdrake once the group completed their mission to reach Munster, Raydrik's current seat of power.
With a heavy heart, but a renewed determination, Leif pressed on.
Soon after the chaos caused by in that little village, a rumor began to spread throughout the borderlands between northern Thracia and the southern Munster District.
A tale of a strange sight in the wilds, at certain points appearing to be a woman, while in others a golden beast with a cloak of shadow.
More senior townsfolk whispered of the old tales in dark times past, where it wasn't too uncommon to come across such a cursed being, and how it would be a sign of ill fortune. A creature that few warriors could fell, a "distortion" of what was once human, brought to total fury and with a taste for blood.
Some argued that it was only pure exhaustion that could fell the beast, but as the weeks passed, sightings only spread.
Soon enough, however, the rumors came flowing into the ear of a certain archbishop. Intrigued for reasons unknown to his fellows, he took up the task of pursuing the cursed being that tormented the inner penninsula.
But that and the prince's story would continue another time. What of Dame Jeanne, Lady Mareeta, and their companions? Well, their schemes in Ulster were about to begin…
Notes:
Glad to keep working on this! I have some plans for it, but next chapter we'll return to Jeanne's group. :)
Sam_the_Sandwich on Chapter 1 Tue 11 Mar 2025 02:20AM UTC
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MrMissMrsRandom on Chapter 1 Tue 11 Mar 2025 09:24PM UTC
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Sam_the_Sandwich on Chapter 1 Fri 14 Mar 2025 12:59AM UTC
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Curse_of_Darkness on Chapter 1 Tue 11 Mar 2025 02:49AM UTC
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MrMissMrsRandom on Chapter 1 Tue 11 Mar 2025 09:21PM UTC
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