Chapter Text
Langris was sitting, hunched, in a dark hallway, head down, knees pulled to his chest. Hallow-eyed busts and shadowy portraits looked down upon him from above. The marble tiling pressed coldly into the seat of his pants. He was alone.
He was waiting.
(Waiting?)
Under his ribs- Along his fingers- He could feel his magic twist and writhe within him, but the sensation felt muted. Distant. Removed from him somehow. The thought should have inspired horror, anger. But no- the anger was gone too now. It had been there for so long. Longer even than he had thought, long enough to carve out its own little space below his throat and above his lungs that left him feeling gapingly empty now in its absence. He shivered and tucked his head further into his arms.
Yes, waiting.
He was waiting for someone.
So dimly he knew he was imagining it, he heard the clicking of footsteps. They were moving away from him down the hall. He didn’t lift his head to look at them. He waited for the anger, but it didn’t come. He was just tired. He didn’t know why he was still waiting. He had told him first, hadn’t he?
“You’ll never stand on the same stage as me.”
Who could blame him then for listening?
“Langris.”
His head shot up. Familiar mana swirled gently in front of him. Like light under water or fog trapped in glass. A warm hand reached through the portal and grabbed his own tightly.
“It’s time to wake up, little brother.”
* * *
Langris,
Word has reached me that you’ve awoken. I shall be expecting you on the 6th of this month at the manor; We have much to discuss regarding the ramifications of your attack on the King. You should thank your fiancée for speaking on your behalf. Due to her intercession, King Augustus has decided not to charge you with regicide, and the Calmreich’s have agreed to maintain the marriage contract between our houses. I expect you to make a swift recovery and make every effort to remove this most recent blight upon our House’s honor.
-Ledior Vaude
MMP, Lord of House Vaude, Marquess of Tota
Langris’ stomach sunk further and further as he read the letter. Finral had kindly waited until after Finesse had left the infirmary to hand it over. From pack mule to messenger bird, their father had apparently summoned his estranged son earlier this morning just to have it delivered in a discreet manner.
Langris read it over, once, twice and then carefully folded it with one hand and tucked it back inside the envelope it had come from. This proved rather difficult as his right arm was completely immobilized inside a sling. Finral shifted, perhaps to help, but a glare from Langris kept him sitting, picking at his nails in a habit Langris’ mother had always snapped at him for. A habit he had thought his brother had finally kicked because every time he’d seen him recently his nails had always looked perfectly manicured, but he guessed not.
Placing the letter to one side, he turned to face Finral, not quite sure why he was still here. Surely with the letter delivered and Finesse gone, there was no reason for him to stick around.
“Shouldn’t you be—”
“Langris, I—”
They both cut themselves off and stared at each other; Finral meeting his gaze head on in a way that was unlike him.
Or, had been unlike him. Langris supposed he didn’t really know what his older brother was like now if he was being honest.
He gestured impatiently for him to continue. Finral bit his lip and looked down at his lap, a complicated expression playing across his face before he seemed to come to some sort of decision. He rubbed the back of his neck, the frown slipping away as he looked up at Langris with a smile. “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re alright, that’s all.”
Langris scowled at the oh so familiar sight of Finral running away. He ignored the part of him that was relieved. That begged him to keep quiet. Terrified of the thing that neither of them were saying. He had to. Had to ask. Like how you couldn’t help but scratch at a scab until it bled.
“Why did you save me, Nii-san?”
Finral’s frown came back at his tone—venomous in a way Langris hadn’t intended yet came like second nature—but ever kind, he tried valiantly to smooth it away.
“You’re my little brother,” he said quietly.
Langris’ jaw clenched. “I almost killed you,” he spat. His heart raced at the words he hadn’t let himself think since he’d woken up. He refused to run away from this though. Not like some people. “You could have gone anywhere. Gone to help your precious squadmates. So why did you save me?”
A hint of frustration flickered across Finral’s face. He crossed his arms stubbornly. “Who’s to say I wasn’t just trying to save the king?” he said, and Langris couldn’t help the small flinch at the words even though he knew his brother was just being flippant because his brother always cared. He always cared but he always ran, and yet somehow, people still always loved him and ah- there the anger was. Langris had thought that maybe it was gone for good when he’d woken up drained but calm for the first time in what felt like forever.
It felt both comforting and nauseating now as it returned with ease.
“Ah yes, how could I forget,” he spat. “Nii-san is always so magnanimous. So kind.” His gut immediately twisted at the words, and he bit his lip, gripping the sheets of the infirmary bed tightly with his one good arm, overcome with frustration. At his brother, at himself, at everything. He glared at the Finral in front of him desperately, jaw clenched, so as not to see the other Finral.
The one lying in the grass. Littered with holes. Connected only by the pool of blood lapping at his feet.
His brother’s sigh broke through the silence that dominated the space between them, the cheer fading from his face to reveal a bone-deep exhaustion Langris had seen hints of here and there—back when they both still lived at home, back when he was still the official heir—but never quite so nakedly before.
“Then back at you.” Finral leaned back and crossed his arms. “Why did you save me? That time when you teleported me off the battlefield?”
Langris’ mouth opened but nothing came out.
Finral lifted both hands and asked, desperately, demandingly. “What do you want? Just what is it that you want from me, Langris?”
A mess of conflicting emotions rose up inside of him. He thought of his brother teleporting into his room when they were kids, sneaking him out for study breaks even after Mom had yelled at him for distracting him. He thought of the warmth of his father’s hands as it rested on his shoulder, beaming with pride at the portal Langris had made, so much bigger and stronger than Finral’s. Beaming because it was better than Finral’s. The way Finral had hesitated on the word “little brother” when introducing him to his stupid squadmate. The ever-present anger that had seeped into his bones that day Finral left, the day he’d walked down that marble hallway away from him and never once looked back.
He thought of the grass visible through the holes in his brother’s body, slowly staining red.
He didn’t know what he wanted, so he hid his face in his knees and didn’t say anything at all.
He heard his brother sigh, felt a gentle hand on his shoulder that he had to desperately tamp down the urge to throw off even as his skin prickled longingly at the warmth. He didn’t look up as he heard the portal swirl open. Or at Finral’s soft goodbye.
And in the silence of the infirmary, alone once more, body mirroring the position as the dream-not-dream from his possession, he wondered how he always managed to put himself back into the exact same situation as he was before.
* * *
A knock on the window alerted Langris to his late-night visitor. He got up slowly, careful not to jar his still healing arm and made his way over. The window slid up to reveal William, crouched in a willow tree that hadn’t been there earlier this afternoon, smiling with far more innocence than someone breaking into a building at night should have.
Langris rolled his eyes, stamping down the irrational surge of fondness that threatened to color his voice. “Captain, it’s always a pleasure. But just once, couldn’t you visit me during actual visiting hours?”
William at least had the decency to look a little sheepish as he stepped into the room. “My apologies, Langris. Things have been so hectic the past couple of days, and by the time I received word that you were awake, it was already past normal visiting hours. I do hope you’ll forgive me.”
Langris would’ve crossed his arms but was stopped by the sling. He settled for an unimpressed hum, arching his brow but could feel his lips twitch in amusement despite himself.
“How are you feeling?” William asked, taking a seat in the visitor’s chair.
Langris perched delicately on the edge of his bed. “Much better,” he admitted truthfully. “Doctor Owen was able to treat the most serious injuries, so now I’m just left with the sprain in my shoulder until they have the mana to spare to fix it,” he said, gesturing to his sling.
William eyed it with concern. “Perhaps Mimosa can help too once she’s recovered enough.”
He nodded. “That would be appreciated. Being down one arm is not ideal.”
“I would imagine not.” William smiled. He looked down at his feet, seeming to consider his next words. “Arm aside though, how’s… everything else? I… wanted to check in given everything that’s happened.”
Langris’ gaze dropped, remembering suddenly the last time he’d seen William. It had been just after he’d woken following the Royal Knight’s exam. Right after he’d almost kil—
He closed his eyes and pushed the thought away.
He couldn’t remember much about waking up after the exam. The world had felt so far away, almost unreal, like when you realize you’re in a dream, but the dream continues. Even so, he could still vaguely recall William leading him from the guarded infirmary room to one of Headquarter’s holding cells for questioning.
He swallowed; he could only imagine what William had thought of him in that moment.
Langris shook his head. “I’m fine. And I’m so sorry for all the trouble I put you through, Captain. I… caused quite a mess I’m afraid.”
William immediately shook his head. “No, you don’t need to apologize to me, Langris. Absolutely none of that was your fault. If anything, I failed you as your Captain for not—” he paused abruptly, looking away and swallowing tightly. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Langris.”
Langris shrugged. “It’s not your fault, sir.”
William bit his lip, averting his eyes, looking almost pained. Finally, he sighed and shook his head.
“Have you been informed of all that happened while you were possessed?”
Langris nodded. “Lady Calmreich stopped by earlier and gave me a rundown.” He paused. “My brother as well,” he added, a touch reluctantly.
William’s eyes widened, obvious relief flashing across his face. “That’s good.” He smiled. “I’m glad you two were able to talk. If your brother was here, then I’m assuming you’ve also heard about the devil?”
Langris nodded slowly. “The devil yes... They mentioned that one named—Zagred was it?—that he was the true mastermind behind everything. Somehow.” He frowned and crossed his arms. “I didn’t get much in the way of details to be honest. Ratri—the one who possessed me—was an elf, I’m sure of that much, so I’m not really sure how they connect?”
William sighed. “The situation is rather complex; I—” He cut himself off and bit his lip before starting up again on a tangent. “Mimosa just left with a few of the Black Bulls for a diplomatic mission to the Heart Kingdom. If all goes well, she should return in two days time. Owen should have you out of here by then as well. When she gets back, I plan to have a meeting with the whole squad and go over everything that happened this past week. Hopefully, I’ll be able to answer all of your questions then.” He smiled but there was a tension to it that Langris didn’t quite understand.
His brows pinched as he considered his words. Usually, as Vice-Captain, William would fill him in ahead of time for such meetings so that they could present a united front. It was odd that he was being so reticent to share information now. Langris didn’t push though. The Captain likely had his reasons—he always did—and waiting never killed anyone, even if Langris’ curiosity was burning to know.
“Alright. I’ll wait for the meeting then, sir.”
William huffed, sounding exasperated but fond. “Still can’t shake that “sir” then, can I?”
Langris couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. It was an old argument. “Not yet, sir.” He shrugged only a little sheepishly. “I’m afraid it’s just instinctive at this point.”
William shook his head but seemed resigned. The smile faded quickly though. “I should mention while I’m here that the Magic Knight’s possession by elves is to be considered classified information. The higher ups have decided to go forward with the devil as the sole perpetrator for the story that’s to be given to the public, pursuant to a Parliamentary hearing that took place a few days ago.”
The bed creaked slightly as Langris leaned back on his good arm, shaking his head. “Finesse mentioned something about that. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the devils existing part to be honest.” He frowned. “And what do the Black Bulls have to do with all this? Finesse said they were called in to testify?”
William nodded. “Yami’s young knight with the unique anti-magic ability apparently has ties to a devil. Or rather, his anti-magic ability itself is tied to a devil. Not Zagred—a different devil,” he was quick to clarify as Langris opened his mouth in protest. “It’s complicated, but they have a handle on the situation. Julius has used Asta’s case to prove the existence of devils, not just to the Magic Parliament but to the public. That way, no Magic Knight need be held accountable for what they did while not under their own control.”
Langris nodded slowly. He thought about asking William why Julius wanted to avoid telling the public the whole story—about the devil’s apparent manipulation of the elves and in turn, the elves’ manipulation of them—but in the end, decided not to.
Even now, he could still remember what Ratri’s grief and rage had felt like. It had been a tsunami that they were both drowning in. A current in the dark that catches you in a single breath and bears you far, far away. It had been terrifying and all-consuming.
And their ancestors’ fault.
He didn’t fully understand the situation, but he knew enough to know that this lie was probably the last kindness they could pay them.
* * *
The next day, Langris was finally discharged from the infirmary and allowed to return to his duties—with strict orders to stay out of trouble until the sling could be removed. He found a small mountain of paperwork waiting for him on his desk upon his return.
Blowing out a sigh through his nose, he started sorting through it all. With all the repairs and rebuilding needed throughout the country from the assault as well as their usual caseload of missions, he was sure his desk was going to be a mess for the foreseeable future. He’d work through everything of course but new paperwork would be flooding in as fast as it left. There was probably even more waiting for him in William’s own backpile…
A shiver ran through him as he worked; the chilly days of autumn were quickly approaching them, and his study’s stone walls had the unfortunate tendency to suck all the heat from the space hungrily. Leaving the papers alone for a second, he set about trying to get a fire going in the fireplace.
The task proved much harder than he initially anticipated with only one arm. He’d only just managed to coax a small flame to life when there was a knock on the door. Langris swore under his breath and used the wall to walk himself upright again, biting back more curses as he accidentally jostled his arm, his shoulder aching in protest.
Masking the pain and hopefully the frustration at being disturbed with a smile, he opened the door to reveal two familiar though unexpected faces: Falin Vinfair, Vice Captain of the Aqua Deer, and Xerx Lugner, Vice Captain of the Purple Orcas.
Xerx who had his hand poised, clearly about to knock again, lowered it without an ounce of sheepishness and flounced his long, lavender hair back. “Oh good, so you are in,” he said, “You sure kept us waiting.”
Falin smiled apologetically. “Sorry to bug you, Vice-Captain Langris,” he said, voice melodic and even, always the peacekeeper. “I know you just got discharged today, so I’m sure you’re busy, but we were hoping you could spare a moment of your time?”
Langris nodded. “Of course,” he said politely, even though he did not have a minute. He didn’t even have a second. What he did have was a week’s worth of work to catch up on and a mountain of papers to shift through. Instead, he pushed the door open further and gestured to the two chairs set in front of his desk. “Come inside, what can I do for you?”
The two men sat, Falin perching delicately in his seat. As usual, his long silvery white hair was tied in a loose braid behind him, and he had to nudge it aside gently to avoid sitting on it. Xerx, meanwhile, leaned back and immediately began playing with a paperweight Langris had resting on his desk, which irritated him but only slightly seeing as he’d gotten the paperweight in the first place to keep David occupied and way from his quills while giving mission reports.
Falin clasped his hands together and blessedly got straight to the point. “We have a few important updates to deliver. Firstly, word has recently reached our ears that the Spade Kingdom has crossed the neutral zone and attacked some of the Diamond Kingdom’s border towns. Magic Knights have been dispatched to do some preliminary scouting and information gathering. There’s to be a logistics meeting between all of the Captains and Vice Captains in three days to discuss the situation as well as go over the ongoing recovery efforts facing the country.”
Xerx sniffed and passed over a folded sheet of parchment he’d been carrying. “We were also tasked with delivering the minutes for the emergency meeting held yesterday that you and your Captain were unable to make. Please make sure you both familiarize yourself with them before our next meeting.”
Langris took the paper and glanced over it curiously. Not seeing anything immediately alarming, he placed it on his desk to look over in greater detail later. Falin steepled his hands together and breathed in deeply.
“Additionally, there was a hearing earlier this week regarding the matter of the possessions. The Magic Parliament has found a de—”
Langris cut him off with a polite shake of his head. “No need, Falin. Captain Vangeance was able to catch me up to speed last night.”
Xerx laughed coldly. “It’s a shame you missed it, Langris. It was quite the sight. The gang of ruffians all banding together to protect their freaky little commoner. Silva’s stray leading the charge, waving that wand around like she doesn’t have an ounce of shame.”
Falin cleared his throat loudly, the polite smile on his face seeming just a little bit stiffer. “Well, I do believe that’s everything we’ve been tasked with delivering. In which case—Vice-Captain Lugner if you’d like to go on ahead, I have a few personal questions I’d like to ask Vice-Captain Langris. That is, if that wouldn’t put you out?” He asked, inclining his head towards Langris.
Langris shook his head. “Not at all.” He turned to Xerx and arched a brow. “Unless, there was anything else you’d like to discuss?”
Xerx glanced between them, expression souring slightly at being kicked out, no matter how politely they phrased it, but there wasn’t much he could do. He stood abruptly, placing the paperweight down carelessly with a harsh clunk. “No, I believe that’s it. Fret not, I can see myself out.” They waited until the door had none to gently shut behind him and footsteps could be heard receding down the hall before both of their shoulders slumped.
Falin shook his head. “You owe me one. I heard Captain Kaiser and Captain Silva delegating the task to Lugner at the end of the meeting and threw myself on the pyre so you wouldn’t have to suffer his attentions alone.”
Langris rolled his eyes. “How generous of you. Was the personal question thing just a bid to get him to leave then?”
“Not quite,” Falin regarded him for a moment, taking in his appearance, particularly the sling. “I wanted to check in on you.”
Langris huffed. “By which you mean, Finesse wanted you to check in on me.”
Falin shrugged but didn’t protest, which really was all the answer Langris needed. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes that matched Finesse’s. The two didn’t look much like each other, but it was that quiet, sly personality they shared that betrayed them as cousins.
“She sends her apologies for having to leave early yesterday and asked that you come visit her as soon as you can,” Falin said diplomatically. “She also hopes your shoulder heals quickly.”
Langris inclined his head. “That’s sweet of her. I should be right as rain in a couple of days; Doctor Owen said he should have the mana to spare by then if Mimosa couldn’t get to me sooner. I’ll pay her another visit then.”
“Good.” Falin leaned back in his chair, smiling ruefully. “And here I thought I had it bad, but it seems my luck ran better than yours if all I have to show for it are some scrapes and bruises.”
Langris froze. “Were you…” He fought with himself over whether or not he should ask but found his curiosity impossible to restrain “…possessed as well then?”
“Yes, Lugner as well, not that you’d ever guess it with his attitude,” he muttered. He seemed to be trying to keep an easy, light-hearted air but his expression was obviously strained. He shrugged. “I guess we all have our own ways of coping.”
“I’m glad to see you’re alright then.” Langris bit his lip before asking hesitantly. “Do you… remember a lot of what happened?”
Falin sighed, and for once the easy polite smile he always wore dropped, his lips pursing together in a small frown. “Kind of,” he said eventually. “I ah…” He swallowed. “I apparently destroyed a lot of the Outer Ring’s marketplace before my comrades were able to stop me. But a lot of the details are—” he looked down at his hands, frown deepening— “pretty fuzzy. Idri’s—the elf—their memories are fuzzy too. Though I remember some better than others.” He trailed off for a second, gaze distant before laughing bitterly. “You know it’s odd. Even now, I keep thinking about my sister before remembering I’m an only child.” He looked away. “I suppose it will take a while for their influence to fully fade.”
Langris looked down at his own hands. He understood. He could still feel someone else’s skin under his palm, his arm wrapped casually around his brother-not-Finral-but-somehow-still-undeniably-his-brother’s neck. “Sure he is. ‘The song of mana rings the same in our ears. We’re all family.’” He repeated the phrase the elders so often lectured them with, and Finral-not-Finral smiled up at him and returned the side hug, just before the world shattered into a thousand rays of light.
Langris took a shaky breath and dragged himself from the memories.
“Alright there, Langris-senpai?” Falin’s voice was light and teasing, perhaps purposefully so, given the obvious concern in his eyes.
Langris rolled his eyes in pretend annoyance, gratefully going along with it. “This joke again? We’re the same age and rank, Vice-Captain Falin.”
“You shouldn’t downplay it, senpai.” Falin said, smiling beatifically. “Even one year of experience is invaluable in the field.”
Langris shook his head. “You call someone kouhai one time,” he muttered.
Falin laughed. “Jokes aside, it is a shame that I was unable to take the test that same year as you. Perhaps I could have placed well enough to earn a seat alongside you in the Golden Dawn before Siren stole the last open spot. Not that I don’t love my squadmates in the Aqua Deer!” He hastened to tack on, waving his hands sheepishly. “I just think we would’ve worked well together.”
“Yes, it is a shame,” Langris said, sincerely, but also feeling a bit awkward given what a delicate situation it had been surrounding the test that year. Falin’s absence had been the talk of the town. His mother, Finesse’s aunt, had passed away unexpectedly the week before to the same chronic illness Finesse herself continues to suffer from. Falin had been scheduled to attend but failed to appear without notifying anyone; it wasn’t difficult to guess why. Rumor had it that his father had been quite disappointed in his lack of showing despite Falin’s obvious grief, but Langris had never had the courage to get the full story from Finesse. She’d been quite close with her aunt and was devasted herself over her passing.
Falin, perhaps sensing the turn in mood his conversation had brought, offered a strained smile. “Well in any case, I’m glad to see you doing well, Langris. Please pass on my regards to my cousin when you see her.”
Langris stood to show him to the door. “Of course. Thank you for the update and for the minutes. I’ll see you at the meeting next week.”
Falin bowed slightly, giving him a proper three-fingered salute. “Three leaves. One mind,” he said.
Langris returned the gesture clumsily, not used to doing it with his left hand. “Three hearts. One stem.”
Falin left the study, leaving Langris to collapse back in his chair and stare at the fire in contemplation, turning the contents of their conversation over and over in his mind. In particular, he couldn’t get out of his head Falin’s remark about still feeling like he had a little sister. On one hand, it was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one still feeling lingering remnants of the elves’ influence on their minds. On the other hand—
He shivered, remembering blood and rage and tears and- …warmth.
A warm arm wrapped around his side. His draped across their shoulders. Affection given and taken so easily.
He scowled and turned his focus to the paperwork before him. On the other hand, he wanted to hurry up and leave this all behind him as soon as possible. He picked up his quill and got to work.
Behind him, the flames crackled merrily in the fireplace, dancing to a song Langris could not hear.
* * *
The next evening, Mimosa returned, and the whole squad gathered in the upper floor conference room upon William’s request. By the time Langris tore himself away from his work to teleport up there, quite a few people had arrived, though you wouldn’t have guessed it from how quiet the room was. Though not a particularly loud group at the best of times, the energy today was even more subdued than usual.
Making his way to the center of the large conference table where he usually sat for these meetings, Langris struggled to pull back the heavy wooden chair with only one arm before Alecdora leaned over and slid it out for him. He sat down carefully, nodding his thanks. Alecdora flashed him a brief smile and turned back to watching the door—likely for the Captain who had yet to arrive—looking lost in thought.
Langris took the opportunity to take careful stock of the room. Though a few people had popped into his office for one thing or another since yesterday, this was the first chance he had to see everyone gathered together since he was discharged.
Some, like him, seemed to be sporting some non-serious injuries still. Hamon had a shiny new burn scar stretching along one forearm, and Siren—who was sitting next to him in amicable silence as usual—had bandages wrapped around his head. Down the other side, David was having a whispered conversation with Letoile, a pair of crutches leaned up against the table next to him. Letoile, for her part, bore no obvious injuries, but Langris dimly remembered her being carried past his infirmary room that first night, unconscious and bloody.
The door opened and everyone’s heads turned as Yuno, Klaus and Mimosa entered the room. Yuno seemed as placid and unconcerned as always, no injuries in sight; Klaus, however, looked awful, like he hadn’t slept in a week, the skin around his eyes puffy and dark. Mimosa, who had been trailing behind them, paused at the threshold, eyes sweeping over the room uncertainly. Bandages covered her wrist and forearms, and he could see more peeking up from under the collar of her shirt.
“Mimosa,” Yuno’s voice was soft, but in a room quiet enough to hear an actual pin drop, it felt more like a shout. Mimosa startled and darted over to the chair he’d pulled out for her at the end of the table; Yuno, taking a seat himself in the chair bordering it to the left. Weirdly, Klaus didn’t take the chair to her right where the three of them could easily whisper and chat together. Instead, he sat down rigidly to Yuno’s left, looking directly ahead and not making eye contact with anyone.
Langris frowned; he wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but even an idiot could tell that things were strained amongst the usually inseparable group.
Before he could think on it long, the door opened again, and Captain Vangeance finally stepped into the room. There was a ripple of confusion as he was followed by two more unexpected figures. There was Finral’s captain for some reason—Captain Yami Sukehiro of the Black Bulls—and... a child? A strangely familiar one at that...
The confusion turned to shock as the three took to the front of the room, and they all got a good look at the child’s face, because didn’t that kid look like the Wizard King, clothes and all?
Langris half rose. “Sir, what-”
William smiled and gestured for Langris to retake his seat. “Please relax everyone. I’ll explain everything. First, as you can see, we’re joined today by two guests, but before I introduce them, I must impress that the contents of today’s discussion cannot leave this room; it’s a matter of national security.”
So it is the Wizard King then, Langris thought even as he gave his agreement alongside everyone else, gaze not leaving the smiling ten-year-old. I’d heard he’d been greatly wounded in the battle against the elves but this... What could do this? Some side effect of his own time magic maybe?
William nodded, satisfied, as they all voiced their agreement. “I’m sure you all recognize Captain Yami,” he said, gesturing over to the man in question who’d parked himself leaning against the wall in a corner of the room, fingers playing with his sheathed katana, already looking bored by the proceedings. “And this—” his hand swept over to the child, who’d dragged a chair next to the Black Bull’s Captain and was now sitting, legs swinging, too short to touch the ground “—is our Wizard King, Julius Novachrono.”
Julius waved cheerily at the shocked Magic Knights assembled before him. “I’m sure you’ve all heard about my injury in the recent battle,” he said, and clovers was it weird to hear his voice but as a child; it was so much higher than now. Which, it would be weirder probably if a deep old man’s voice was coming from the kid but still. “Only a select few know about my... diminished state,” he continued, gesturing to his child-sized body. “As William stated before, this is an important secret that I hope you protect as you would any other matter of national security as Magic Knights. I’m sure I don’t have to emphasize the extremely fragile state recent events have left our country in. As such, I ask for discretion, not just to your fellow Magic Knights but even to members of blood and kin. Is that understood?” he asked, gaze skimming over everyone but seeming to land in particular on Langris, Letoile, and Hamon who all hailed from very... politically active Houses.
They all nodded. Seeing this, he smiled brightly. “Lovely, in that case, before we move on further, Mimosa, could you please share what your team learned in the Heart Kingdom with everyone?”
Mimosa looked up, startled to have her name called. “Oh um, sure,” she said, eyes darting over the assembled group.
Langris frowned. As long as he’d known her, he’d never describe Mimosa as a skittish or timid person; it was unusual to see her like this. Perhaps something had happened during her journey to the Heart Kingdom?
Mimosa rose and gave a brief rundown on the Heart Kingdom’s situation. It seems they had also had issues with a devil as late; their queen having been cursed by one that seemed to be deeply involved with the Spade Kingdom and was behind the recent attacks on the Diamond Kingdom’s borders.
She finished by announcing, “The Queen of the Heart Kingdom is hoping to launch an attack against the devil, and by extent the Spade Kingdom, in six months’ time and is hoping to ally with the Clover Kingdom for this purpose. With how combat in the Diamond Kingdom is progressing, assuming the Spade Kingdom will continue their military pursuits to our borders next, it’s uncertain we have even that long.” She winced. “From the reports, the fighting seems to be quite brutal.”
Julius nodded in agreement and stepped forward as Mimosa sat back down. “We have agreed to the Heart Kingdom’s proposal for an alliance. For the next six months, on top of repairing the Kingdom from the most recent attack, we’ll also be highly focused on training and raising every knight’s Magic Stage to compile a force capable of taking on the Spade Kingdom’s devils. I have high hopes for all of you.”
“Yes, sir.” They all chorused, saluting in unison.
Julius stepped back and turned to look at William who had been patiently standing off to the side. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s move onto the matter we’re actually here to discuss. William?”
All eyes trained back onto William in curiosity as he stepped forward, not sure what else there could be to talk about. William opened his mouth and then paused, hands working uselessly at his side. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth again, but nothing seemed to come out.
“C’mon Vangeance. Don’t chicken out now,” Yami drawled, crossing his arms. “This was all your idea.”
“I am well aware,” William said, tone level but clipped. He took a deep breath and then, to the surprise of everyone, took off his mask, cradling it in his hands.
If it wasn’t before, it was definitely quiet enough to hear a pin drop now.
It wasn’t that no one had seen Captain Vangeance without his mask before. They’d all caught glimpses here and there. It was hard not after living together for years in the same keep. Langris in particular had been trusted with more opportunities to see it than most, the mask quickly growing heavy and oppressive during long stuffy nights going through piles of paperwork together in the Captain’s office. But never like this. Never so deliberately. Like he was trusting them all with a part of himself.
William smiled awkwardly at them, the curse scar crinkling with his eyes as he ran a self-conscious hand through his uneven hairline. “Hello everyone,” he began softly. “I’ve asked you all to gather here today because I have an apology I’d like to give you.”
He paused, looking at the ground, shifting uncomfortably as he seemed to consider his next words. “You are all recovering from the Eye of the Midnight Sun’s most recent attack on this kingdom. Most of you-” His eyes flickered almost imperceptibly to Mimosa before looking away- “Spent that time possessed. As victims of this possession and members of my own squad, I believe you all have a right to know the truth of what happened.”
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Several hundred years ago, the elven tribe native to these lands was massacred by the Magic Parliament of the time, our ancestors. Both then and now, a devil named Zagred manipulated the situation behind the scenes and stoked the conflict between the two races, but it wouldn’t have been possible without the complicity of the human actors involved.”
William went on to outline the tragedy as it happened five hundred years ago, filling in the blanks of what little their transplanted memories had been able to provide. He talked about how the elves had immense magical power due to their innate connection with mana. How humans had feared and envied them in turn for that power. How Zagred, sensing the potential for conflict, had snuck into the upper echelons of the Clover Kingdom nobility, possessed a certain minister and proposed a plan to steal the elves’ magic and rid the burgeoning Clover Kingdom of a potential threat once and for all. How the first Wizard King Lemiel Silvamillion and the Elven Tribe leader Licht had tried to stand in his way and their sad fate.
William’s knuckles turned white from where they gripped his mask, a far off look in his eyes. “The horror of that day cannot be understated,” he said. “I’m sure your first memory from then, like mine, was of a world on fire. Their terror. Betrayal. Rage. Like you, I felt it all.” He looked to the ground. “The only difference being, I awoke to the elf inside myself over a decade ago and—” he swallowed, exhaling shakily. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “And I’ve been helping them ever since.”
There is a sickliness that occurs while teleporting when momentum is redirected upwards after falling. A moment of unreality as your brain tries to recalibrate. Your heart, sunken in your stomach, lodges itself in your throat. The sky is below you, and you know you will crash into it just the same as you were going to crash into the earth resting above.
That’s how Langris felt now. Like he was falling, seconds away from smashing open across empty sky.
Wiliam was still talking, voice muffled almost by the buzz of Langris’ own thoughts, occasional pieces swimming out with stark clarity.
“…I assisted with their resurrection ritual …helped look for those housing elven spirits… collected magic stones…
“I felt his anger and rage like it was my own…
“…I stood aside, and allowed him to attack Julius…”
He’s crying, Langris noted distantly and then realized he was crying too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried in public, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to help it. He felt detached from his own body. As if somebody else was crying, not him.
“I betrayed this nation,” William said, voice shaking. “I betrayed my duty as Captain of the Knights of the Golden Dawn, and worse,” his breath hitched, “I betrayed the trust you all put in me. I betrayed you, and for that,” he dropped into a deep bow, “Words cannot express how sorry I am. You put your faith in me, and I deceived you. You trusted me to protect you, and I—” his voice broke as he looked over the room at their battered and bandaged appearances— “I am the reason you’re injured.”
The silence was deafening in the wake of their captain’s confession. Julius dropped from his chair to come up and rest a hand on William’s leg, before turning to look up at them. “I have decided to exonerate William of his crimes and allow him to continue serving as Captain so he can do his best to atone for them. As of now, the only people who know about this are sitting in this room. None of the Magic Parliament members know. None of the Magic Scribes or my advisors—not even Marx—know of this. Nor do the other Captains or Vice Captains—outside of Yami who was there for the assault. Nor King Augustus Clover.” He crossed his arms, voice deadly serious. “I ask for the safety and security of this nation, as part of the oath you swore as Magic Knights that, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter, you keep this secret to yourselves and yourselves alone. With war looming with the Spade Kingdom on the horizon, we can’t afford to lose even a single Magic Knight.” His gaze swept slowly over the room, looking them each in the eye. “To be honest, I was against sharing this information with anyone else, but William insisted that you could be trusted and that he owed it to at least to those under his command to know the truth. I am confident that his faith was not misplaced,” he said and smiled in manner that was somehow both encouraging and eminently threatening at the same time.
William cleared his throat and sniffled slightly, clearly trying to regain some composure. “Of course, I don’t ask or expect any one of you to continue working with me. If you would like to transfer to a different squad, all you need do is ask. While it is the decision of each individual Captain about whether or not to accept a new member, I and Julius will personally advocate on your behalf. Captain Yami has also been most kind and stated he’d be willing to accept any one of you if you so desired.”
From the corner where he was lounging, Yami huffed, eyeing them with vague amusement. “Not that I think many of you would be interested in joining a squad like mine,” he drawled, before shrugging. “But the offer’s open. We could always use some new blood to throw at Cerberus. They’ve gotten bored with Asta lately; he doesn’t even scream when they snap at him anymore.”
Julius coughed politely at the numb silence that followed the—maybe?—joke. “Of course, we don’t expect answers right away. Take some time to think it over. I’ll leave the transfer forms here for you to look at.” So saying, he pulled free a stack of papers that had been hidden away under his cape and placed it in the middle of the conference table. Magic Knight Squad Transfer Authorization, written in bold and elegant script, was easily visible at the top.
For a beat, no one spoke, everyone staring mutely at the documents stacked in a neat pile before them.
“Now then,” Julius clapped his hands together, and they all startled, the sound ringing like a thunderclap through the silent chamber. He gave a clearly forced smile as attention returned to him. “We flew here with Yami doing his best to keep us shielded with shadow from wandering eyes, but I’d hate to be spotted by an avid birdwatcher or prying minister. Langris, could I trouble you for a portal back to my office?”
Langris blinked dumbly as his name was called. “Portal?” He became suddenly aware of the tacky feeling of drying tears on his cheeks and hastily scrubbed at his eyes. “Portal of course.” He cleared his throat and gathered together his mana. Embarrassingly, it took two fumbling attempts, his racing mind making it difficult to focus, before a small purple portal swirled into existence before them.
Julius nodded in thanks. “Much obliged.” He looked over the room, from the sea of battered and dumbstruck Magic Knights to William who stood, shoulders hunched, looking down at the mask in his hands with red eyes. His gaze softened. “These next few weeks will not be easy on you, I’m afraid. You all have some tough choices to make, and there isn’t anything I can say that will make those choices easier. But I will say this,” he lifted his chin, hands resting on his hips, and for a second, looked every inch the Wizard King they’d known. “I am so very proud of each and every one of you. It is one thing to fight an enemy in front of you; it is quite another to fight one in the depths of your own mind. And while others may only remember the destruction you have wrought—unwilling though it was—I know how much you struggled. It is my greatest honor to serve as Wizard King to brave Magic Knights like yourselves, and regardless of any decision you make, that will not change. Thank you,” he said and, raising his hand in a clover salute, bowed to them.
He nodded to Yami, and the two of them stepped through the portal together. William moved towards it as well but stopped just shy. “There’s to be a meeting between the Captains and several high-ranking ministers in an hour that I must attend. I’ll likely be back late, but if any of you would like to meet with me at any time—about anything—let me know, and we can arrange something. I—” He closed his mouth abruptly, seeming to think better of whatever he’d been about to say. Stiffly, he placed his mask back over his head and with one last deep bow, turned on his heel and walked through the portal.
Langris let it close with a numb wave of his hand.
It was a fist slamming against the conference table that broke the silence. “What the fuck,” Letoile swore in a fit of passion Langris had never seen from the usually cool-headed knight. She stood, chair scraping against the floor. “What the actual fuck.” David weakly raised a comforting hand to her forearm, but she waved sharply, and he backed off, watching instead in concern as she yanked irately at the collar of her uniform as if it were choking her.
Langris realized then that he’d been incorrect before about Letoile’s lack of injuries. As her collar shifted, the Lichtenberg figure crawling up the side of her neck and shoulder that she’d had since before joining the Golden Dawn was revealed. The skin there was obviously deeply bruised, and the lightning scars seemed an even angrier red than usual against the mottled yellow and purple backdrop.
David held up both hands placatingly. “I get it,” he said. “I do. But think about it. You know the Captain’s past. Us bastards don’t have it easy. It makes sense he’d be frustrated with how things are.”
“Frustrated and letting the city burn with our lives on the pyre are two different things,” she hissed.
“Well to be fair,” Mimosa mumbled bitterly from where she sat. “The elves seemed more interested in killing royals than wrecking the city. Most of what happened was collateral damage.”
“And that makes it okay?” Letoile snapped, knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the table, and Langris remembered with a jolt Ratri sending someone that looked like Letoile through a portal to the Silva estate during the assault. Letoile—who was a branch family cousin of the Silva’s, who still hung out with Nebra Silva at balls, who’d been a Silver Eagle before a Golden Dawn.
His stomach twisted as he stared at the bruises, a trademark remnant of House Silva’s metal and water-based attack magic.
“Of course, it doesn’t,” Mimosa bit back, eyes blazing, her usual patient temper completely absent. “That includes me and my family in case you forgot.” She faltered, gripping her forearms just above the bandages and sunk back in her seat. Besides Yuno, Klaus flinched, looking unfathomably guilty and- oh...
Langris clasped his hands in front of his lips and closed his eyes.
“I just-” Mimosa buried her face in her hands. “I don’t have memories of it like you all seem to but to think our ancestors killed so many people. I...” She shook her head, and Yuno, who’d never seemed to be one for physical affection, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Mimosa jolted like his touch was acid before she saw who it was, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
Letoile’s expression twisted with guilt, and her shoulders slumped, the anger seeming to drain out of her all at once as she retook her seat. “Sorry, Mimosa,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
Mimosa waved her off wordlessly, not meeting anyone’s gaze.
“Well, it seems we have an interesting choice in front of us,” Hamon spoke up, fingers pressed together before him. There was a dark edge to the normally jovial man’s voice, an unfathomable look in his eyes as he examined the papers in front of them. “Stay. Go. Or I suppose—” he shrugged— “Leaving the Magic Knights altogether is also a possibility.” A few people flinched at that. They all considered his words.
“I’m not going anywhere.” It was Alecdora who broke the pensive silence. He was staring resolutely forward at the empty space where William had been, his expression grimly determined.
Siren spoke up as well, brows furrowed. “I won’t leave either. While it- hurts to hear what the Captain has done. That doesn’t negate the years of kindness he’s shown me.” He and Alecdora exchanged a glance, a flash of shared camaraderie, almost insane to see coming from a man who barely said more than two words on a good day to Hamon, his best friend, let alone to Alecdora Sandler.
Hamon frowned, not seeming particularly happy with his friend’s statement before his face quickly smoothed to something more neutral. He did not answer his own question.
“Hey VC?” Langris immediately turned to David, the only one who ever called him that. The usual energy in his voice was gone, and he looked pale and wane, staring down at his hands with a somber expression on his face, a far cry from the laughing, joking man who had a hard time taking even mission briefings seriously. Langris followed his gaze and noticed that the veins in his hands looked… black almost. He turned them slightly, shifting the light, and they were normal again.
Langris frowned, unsettled.
“Yes?” he asked.
“What do you think?” David asked, gnawing his lip. “Do you think you’ll leave?”
Langris exhaled slowly.
Leave? After all the hours he’d poured into this squad? After all he’d bled and worked and slaved countless sleepless nights for? It should have felt laughable.
He betrayed us. A small part of him whispered. He squashed it down with impunity.
He’s believed in us more than anyone.
His Captain smiling at him, speaking with complete conviction.
“You have the sort of fierce love capable of bringing forth a golden dawn.”
Langris swallowed tightly. “No,” he said shortly, hands clasped together, gripping each other tightly. “I’m staying.”
Letoile got up, shaking her head, and made her way to the door, looking more tired than angry at this point. The sun must have set while they were in the meeting, because only darkness greeted them from the hall windows as she pushed the door open, and it was only the light spilling from the conference room that gave her enough vision to spot the paper bird zooming straight for her.
With the reflexes of a true Magic Knight, Letoile immediately ducked, just avoiding getting clocked in the head. The bird swooped through the open doorway and slid to a gentle stop just in front of Langris. It unfolded itself without being touched, the creases smoothing out to form a folded piece of paper. To The Knights of the Golden Dawn was written in elegant cursive on the front.
Langris frowned, recognizing the magic as that of a Royal Scribe who regularly sent missives from the Magic Knight Headquarters on behalf of the Wizard King or one of his advisors. But they’d just seen Julius, and this was rather late for a general notice. Maybe an emergency mission?
It was addressed to everyone, so he carefully unfolded the letter and began reading aloud:
To the Knights of the Golden Dawn,
This subpoena is an official notice that the members of the entity known as the “Golden Dawn” are commanded to appear before the Magic Parliament of the Clover Kingdom and Its Outer Realms to give testimony regarding the attack and their subsequent possession on the eve of the 27th of last month. Pursuant to such findings, the Parliament shall adjudicate the existence of the above entity, in regards to its continued formation or dissolution, in the interests of preserving national security and public safety.
The below persons shall appear before the Magic Parliament on the 31st of this month or be found in contempt of court:
Her Grace, Mimosa Vermillion, revered Duchess of the Royal House of Vermillion
Lady Letoile Becquerel, venerable Marchioness of House Becquerel
Lord Langris Vaude, venerable Marquess of House Vaude
Lord Alecdora Sandler, venerable Marquess of House Sandler
Lord Hamon Caseus, honored Count of House Caseus
Lord Siren Tium, honored Count of House Tium
Lord William Vangeance, esteemed Viscount of House Vangeance
Lord Klaus Lunettes, esteemed Viscount of House Lunettes
Lord David Swallow, estimable Baron of House Swallow
Sir Yuno of Hage Village
By authority of His Royal Majesty, Augustus Kira Clover XIII, Royal King of the Clover Kingdom and Its Outer Realms-
“-In whose light may justice always be found.” Langris mumbled, numbly lowering the letter to the table. This had to be some sort of sick joke. To receive an announcement like this on the literal tail end of William’s confession was just…
“You have to be kidding me,” David muttered, dropping his head into his hands.
Alecdora seized the piece of paper from Langris to read it for himself, Hamon peering as best he could over the taller man’s shoulder.
“That means—” Mimosa’s hands rose to her mouth.
“It means,” Alecdora said grimly. “The Magic Parliament is seeking the dissolution of the Golden Dawn, and this hearing is our only chance to stop it.”
No one seemed to be able to summon up anything to say in the wake of this latest revelation. Pensive and silent, first Letoile, David in her wake, left the room, and, one by one, the others followed.
Langris watched them recede down the darkened corridor, their white cloaks shining like ghostly creatures in the gloom.
Suddenly, he was back in that shadowy hallway again. There was a figure walking away from him; he could hear the clicking of their shoes against the marble. Langris wanted to call out but didn’t.
The figure pulled on a black cloak and disappeared.
“What do you think?” David had asked.
Langris looked down at his own cloak, hands scrunching the fabric as he gripped it tightly. In the dim light, the white seemed almost sickly—pale and bleached out. The rising sun didn’t look hopeful anymore but like a world on fire.
But Langris was too afraid to take it off.
He was alone in the hallway, and it was all he had left.