“{Damn it,}” Aylar whispered next to her, and Synthra turned with instinctive curiosity to look at the Princess-Royal.
“{Your Highness?}” she asked politely, her voice low as well.
Aylar glanced at her, as if surprised she’d been heard, and then seemed to consider something and motioned Synthra away.
The Sorceress gave one last glance down to the still-posed Terran, and then followed when the Princess departed, walking with her until they were in an isolated corner of the Box, where Aylar’s apparent desire for privacy would ward off almost anyone else.
“{I can understand why he did that,}” Aylar said when Synthra joined her, voice low. “{I can even empathize with it, but this will only hurt his chances with the courtiers.}”
Synthra’s gaze flitted back to the crowd around them, noting the mix of sour and outright hostile expressions, and then returned to Aylar.
“{You are worried this adulation will only work against him?}”
“{Are you not?}”
Synthra considered her question and then glanced back to the thunderous arena, which was providing a rather useful cover for their discourse. Then, she returned her gaze to Aylar.
“{I think it depends on the viewpoint they’re given. There is a difference between getting rid of an upstart Terran, Your Highness, and destabilizing the rule of law and order. If we know anything about the Duke, it’s that he values the latter above all else. If we convince him that Achilles will be a boon to that undertaking…}”
“{Ceruviel seemed to think so as well, but it is not only the Duke we have to convince. These courtiers are vipers, Synthra,}” Aylar said with a quiet, fervent disdain that surprised and impressed Synthra in equal measure. “{They will do anything to hold onto the power they have collected for themselves, and Leonidas presents a direct threat to that status quo.}”
“{I see your point,}” she said quietly, and folded her arms under her bust. “{And not even Ceruviel can ward off those opinions, at least not when Uriel is here. They would be terrified if she were alone, but the Dawn-Lord gives them courage to speak where they would normally remain silent.}”
“{The presumption that the Duke of Morning will side with Haelfenn tradition is a powerful motivator, yes,}” Aylar agreed. “{And Ceruviel was clearly frazzled by what happened to Leonidas. For her, that means she is just less apt at containing her temper, but it is enough. The courtiers will mistake that—to their eventual detriment, I’m sure—for weakness, but the reckoning for that mistake will not come now, and that means it presents a danger to Leonidas.}”
“{I…}” Synthra trailed off, frowned, and looked back at the Princess. “{If I may ask, Your Highness, why are you so determined to protect him? I thought you would also see him as a threat to the natural order.}”
Aylar blinked at her words, and of all things, she sighed in internalized annoyance.
“{He is, but it is a complicated matter, Synthra. Mainly because—}”
Whatever Aylar was about to say was cut off when a resounding thump echoed within the Royal Box, and multiple polearms were slammed against the floor. Both Synthra and the Princess-Royal turned instinctively to see the Royal Guard standing at the door to the box.
From within their cordon, which almost looked like an honor guard, walked Achilles.
The Black Knight had changed, but in a way that was not immediately easy to define. His stride was both more relaxed and more poised at the same time. There was an ease to how Leonidas moved, as if his body were more in sync, and his limbs were working in concert rather than as individual pieces of a whole. Synthra had experienced her First Temper already, but for the Terran, it was as if that concept had taken on a wholly different definition.
There was a coiled lethality to him now, one that transcended the understood norms of achieving Initiate Tier.
Above all else, his aura had become… more.
It was the only way Synthra could think to describe it.
Achilles had always carried himself like a princeling or highborn, but now there was a definitive weight to his existence—as if his presence alone demanded, or rather, commanded the respect of those who looked at him. Even among the Haelfenn and other non-native races, when she glanced across them, the effect was palpable.
Nobles seemed unable to look away from him, no doubt because of curiosity to some extent, she was certain, but there was an otherness to their gazes that had been absent before. Something like a mandate seemed to subtly flow from his existence, as if he were somehow above them—beyond them, in a way that was frankly impossible to quantify.
He had a weight to him, like he possessed a gravity all his own.
When the Black Knight came to a halt near the middle of the large space, close to various assembled courtiers and persons of note. Synthra instinctively shifted her gaze to the Terrans, and it was there she saw the most profound change. They were not looking at Achilles, like the other transmigrated peoples of Dawnhaven were, but at everyone else. There was a sense of coiled readiness in each of their eyes, like the Merchants and various humans of note were seeking threats.
Threats to Achilles.
Threats to their symbol.
Synthra felt her instincts snarl to life, and she stepped closer to Aylar to whisper.
“{The Terrans,}” she said to her softly. “{Look at the Terrans.}”
The Princess-Royal glanced at her and gave her a single shallow nod of agreement. The Princess had seemingly already noticed it, but it was gratifying all the same to have her suspicions affirmed. If the Haelfar trained her entire life to spot those things concurred with her unspoken assessment, then Synthra knew she had put the lessons Ceruviel and Sinalthria had taught her to good use.
“{Leonidas Achilles.}”
Uriel’s voice cut through the crowd, and Synthra turned to see the golden-armored Dawn-Lord approach with Ceruviel beside him, the Dusk-Lord’s own expression a mix between cold assessment and contained anger. She clearly disliked what Uriel had chosen to do. Short of a violent opposition, however, Synthra knew the impassive Duke of Morning’s reputation for upholding the rule of law meant the confrontation was inevitable.
Her eyes slid toward Aylar, and they shared a nod before looking back.
Whatever happened next, Synthra was ready to do her part.
You still owe me a rematch, Achilles. Don’t falter here.
* * * * *
“{Lord of the Dawn,}” Leonidas said in a steady, polite tone to Uriel when the Haelfar Duke addressed the Terran. “{You do me great honor with your attention. In what manner may I aid the people of Dawnhaven?}”
Aylar swept her eyes over the assembled nobles and courtiers of various races, primarily Haelfenn, with careful assessment when Leonidas spoke. The mood had changed since Leonidas had walked in, especially with his name still being chanted by the crowds outside. If anything, the volume had only risen when he’d finally arrived to speak to the Dawn-Lord. The reaction from the various persons of note within the Royal Box was entirely in line with her expectations, with looks ranging from perplexity to curiosity to poorly masked fear and apprehension flickering across the faces of those present.
Most notably, the faces of the Haelfenn.
The Nyrfenn races like the Lycani, Nekomari, Orcs, the rare Dwarf, and even the half-breeds forged from all manner of racial combinations watched with a greater level of quiet interest than anything else. They seemed less offended by Leonidas’ existence, like the Haelfenn were, and more analytical—curious, even. In four years since the Integration and Dawnhaven’s establishment, no Terran had managed to achieve what Leonidas had in his short week or so in Dawnhaven, especially not with the flair he had demonstrated.
“{So it is true, then. You do speak Haelfenny fluently, and like a student of the ancient bloodline, at that,}” Uriel observed without ire, his voice a calm rumble that demanded silence by force of its existence. “{I had heard rumors that you were well-educated; it seems they were a disservice. You convey yourself better than many Nobles.}”
Aylar tightened her jaw at Uriel’s words and glanced once more at the Haelfenn notables in the chamber. The Dawn-Lord’s compliment had been sincere, she knew that. Uriel was always honest, very much to a fault at times, but that would not stop the natural offense taken by the others of their people present. He had lifted Leonidas up while simultaneously challenging the dignity of many of the bloodlines present, and though many Nyrfenn wouldn’t see it so clearly, it was transparent to Aylar.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
He was testing Leonidas to see how he would react to the nobles’ disdain.
“{I was gifted with the most noble of teachers, your grace,}” Leonidas said with a faint quirk of his lips, as if sharing a private joke with Uriel. “{The Lord of the Dusk has been a most assiduous mentor to me in the few sunrises since I arrived in this place.}”
Ceruviel chuckled at that, entirely uncaring for the indignity of the action, and almost seemed to be daring someone to try to rebuke her. Her eyes swept those present, in fact, as if challenging just such a course of action.
Nobody did. Nobody would.
Not even Uriel, though his lips twitched faintly downward at the apparent taunt.
Ceruviel is reminding them that she is the real problem, not Leonidas. Aylar noted mentally, remembering the Duchess’s own planning from earlier. She wants them to assume he is her instrument, not a destabilizing factor. If they see him as an extension of her, as a tool more than anything else, it will greatly mitigate their ire. They are used to these kinds of games.
Uriel’s presence kept any naysayers safe in the immediate moment, but the Dawn-Lord would be present at all hours, and the Haelfenn courtiers knew how ruthless Ceruviel was. She had carried her reputation for relentless scale-balancing, even by Archon standards, with her from Altera to Terra. There were fewer than a handful of people who would truly risk stoking her ire, not without significant guarantees of safety from either Uriel himself or one of the very few other people of lesser but near influence in the colony.
“{Your mentor has told me you were unaware the tribulation would occur. Is that true?}” Uriel asked, focusing entirely on Leonidas.
“{That is so, your grace. The tribulation was a surprise to me as well.}”
“{But you were warned it was possible,}” Uriel said, framing it as a statement.
“{I was, yes. Ceruviel and I discussed the matter. Anyone could, in theory, trigger a tribulation—assuming they were capable of meeting its significant requirements, of course.}”
Aylar’s brow twitched at his words, and she felt her [Heroine’s Will] flare to steady and maintain her composure. Leonidas' intent was clear in what he said; it was a literal statement. The words he used, however, sounded instigatory—she saw it in the faces of those around the room, and even Nyrfenn were caught off-guard by the statement. His honesty was unimpeachable, what he said was true, but even she felt a twinge of self-conscious embarrassment from how he’d phrased his answer.
Despite never uttering the words, he had insinuated that everyone else present was inferior.
That was a mistake, but it was one he made with no awareness of what he was doing.
“{I am given to understand you are training to become an Archon under the Dusk-Lord,}” Uriel continued as if nothing were amiss. His radiant golden eyes faintly narrowed in consideration, after that, and he continued. “{That means that, with this First Temper behind you, your [Knight Oath] has been codified and finalized. Is that the case?}”
Aylar’s eyes darted to Ceruviel when Uriel spoke, and she saw the Duchess glance sidelong at Uriel, only for a moment, but with a thinning of her lips that Aylar knew meant ‘unease’, not simply ‘displeasure’. Ceruviel had not told Aylar the codified vow that Leonidas had sworn, because it was—in her eyes—a private affair. Uriel did not seem to have such reservations, and something about the Duchess’s reaction told Aylar that the [Knight Oath] may have contained something dangerous.
“{I have sworn my vow, but it was sworn in privacy. It is mine to live by, and I am of the view that it should remain a matter of my own conscience.}”
A good answer. He was playing toward the natural sense of honor Knights held for respecting one another’s vows—well, Knights that weren’t Blackguards or worse, at least.
One look at Uriel told her it was not going to work, though, and Aylar braced herself.
“{Your commitment to the Knightly path does you credit, Squire of the Archon, but it is a traditional shield—not a lawful one. While my trust in the Dusk-Lord is unimpeachable, she is not the one who brought grave risk to our home. She is not the one who endangered our citizens. She—}”
“{Uriel!}” Ceruviel hissed, to which the Dawn-Lord simply gave her a look, and continued as if nothing had happened.
“{—is not the one that brought down the wrath of the System upon Dawnhaven. I am unclear as to the cause of the tribulation, Leonidas Achilles, but I am aware of other factors. One: this was your First Tempering, and there has been nobody in recorded memory, not since the appearance of Alurien Starsword, to trigger a tribulation upon their Initiate Temper.}”
Murmurs broke out through the room, and Aylar could hardly fault them.
The mere comparison implied a trajectory of power for Leonidas that was beyond normal comprehension.
Alurien Starsword. The name alone felt like it increased the force of gravity fractionally, capturing everyone who heard it. Her eyes danced across the room, and she took in the low hum of whispers and disbelieving murmurs that filled the Box. For a Terran to be compared to Alurien, widely considered as one of the greatest Haelfenn to have ever lived, was scandalous. Uriel himself was drawing more than a few dirty looks for his words, though the Duke of Morning was—as ever—utterly unaffected by them.
Then her eyes moved to the Duchess.
Ceruviel’s expression had tightened again at Uriel’s words, and her fingers twitched at her side, but she said nothing—because there was nothing she could say. Uriel had essentially complimented Leonidas, and attempting to defang or refute it would make it seem as if she saw him as an inferior copy of Alurien. Without savaging her Apprentice’s reputation and massively impugning her plans for him, there was nothing Ceruviel could say to refute what Aylar knew would come next.
“{Alurien Starsword was my Master’s Master,}” Leonidas replied with the same steady, solid calm that he had started with. “{To be compared to a level 97 demi-god, the last Grandmaster of the Archon Order, is praise beyond my deserving, your grace. I can only aspire to fulfill even a fraction of my predecessor’s storied achievements.}”
“{Well done,}” Synthra murmured at her side, and drew a nod from Aylar.
“{He navigated that well,}” Aylar concurred in a murmur back. “{He neither denigrated Alurien’s legacy, nor claimed to be his second coming. His choice of response showed humility and sincerity. It was the best he could hope for.}”
Several others in attendance seemed to agree with them, for Aylar noticed the various people within the room considering them. Several of the more forward-thinking courtiers among the Haelfenn, in fact, nodded in approval of his words.
“{It was a test, I think,}” Synthra murmured back. “{But it feels like a prelude.}”
“{I concur. We should be ready for what comes next.}”
Synthra nodded once and fell silent with Aylar once more as Uriel abruptly stepped forward. A single step, but enough to silence the murmurs and mutterings more effectively than a blade strike. The Dawn-Lord’s radiant eyes were still focused on Leonidas to the exclusion of all else, and his golden eyes seemed to be weighing the young Terran with every iota of the centuries of his experience.
“{A [Knight Oath] is not a thing to be taken lightly, however,}” the Dawn-Lord began, his voice lowering in tone without lowering in volume, and expressing a passive power of presence that made Aylar’s heart rate spike. At the middle of his Sixth Tier, achieved after Integration like Ceruviel, Uriel’s words alone could shake someone’s calm when he wanted them to.
“{The vow of a Knight has broad-reaching impacts, Leonidas Achilles. It affects not only the Knight themself, but all those that exist within the Knight’s area of influence. Though it is true that there are many in Dawnhaven with the Archetype, myself and Ceruviel included, there are far fewer capable of leveraging its strength to impact the world in a tangible way. I would wager, son of Terra, that you are one such person.}”
Leonidas’ expression did not falter, but instead showed signs of focus, as if he were bracing himself for what would come next. When Aylar glanced at Ceruviel, the Duchess seemed resigned to it, her armored arms folded over her breastplate and her mouth set into a grim line, as if silently urging caution to her Squire.
“{Dawnhaven is a colony of law and order, Leonidas Achilles. Even before your Temper, you had carved out a reputation for yourself. Now, you have done what only one other has done before you—one whose power rose to such heights that he was capable of sundering nations at the edge of his blade.}”
Aylar’s eyes narrowed, and she felt as much as she peripherally saw Synthra subconsciously lean in beside her, as focused as she was.
“{You walk the same path, an honorable path, but one that promises immense power; power enough that, in a few short decades, you may wield enough might to destroy this colony and all who call it home,}” Uriel continued without abeyance.
“{I am charged with the safety of Dawnhaven and all those who call it home. In the face of your potential, potential recognised by the Divines and System itself, I must have clarity. The Dusk-Lord’s trust and faith in you carry great weight with me, as they did with the Heroine-Queen before me—}” there he paused and gave Ceruviel a purposeful nod of respect before continuing “{—and reassure me of your intent to an extent, but they are not a substitute for clarity and law—for not even the Last Archon can truly know what you will become.}”
Uriel lifted his right hand, and his spear appeared in a flash of sunfire, its gleaming golden shaft reflecting the light as he thumped it against the stone with an echoing, glavel-like boom.
“{So I ask you, Leonidas Achilles; Knight to Knight, with my Luxan Spear as my proof of Archetype: will you give Dawnhaven and its people the clarity they must have? I cannot and will not coerce this of you, for a Knight must choose this of their own volition, but as every other Knight who has ever stood in judgment for worry of their power threatening those around them has done, I ask you to reveal your [Knight Oath].}”
Silence followed Uriel’s words, and Aylar felt her [Heroine’s Will] surge once more as she maintained her composure. While what Uriel said was true to the letter of each word, the nuance of it was far more varied. Knights had been asked to recite their vows in the past, but it was always done when a Knight was recognized not simply as a growing power, but as one capable of destroying the very essence of order that surrounded them.
By his own words, Uriel had just declared Leonidas to be a legend in the making.
The Terran did not seem blind to that fact, and his brilliant blue eyes showed he understood. He was clearly considering Uriel’s words and not rushing to a hasty decision. There was calculation in his gaze, mixed with wariness and even a strange sense of worry. For the first time, his attention left the Dawn-Lord, drifting across the faces of the assembled with silent consideration.
When his eyes met hers, they stopped.
For a long moment, one that seemed to stretch, he met her gaze as if seeing something within her, or as if searching for something she could not quantify. She had seen that look once before, when he’d first met her, and it confused her now as it did then. Aylar met his gaze without hesitation, however, and offered him a smile—a small one, just enough to be encouraging. Perhaps it was what he wanted. She couldn’t be sure.
The eye contact broke almost immediately thereafter, and that strange sense of grief seemed to momentarily fill him in the instant it did, before he moved his gaze to Synthra. There, he quirked an eyebrow, and Aylar glanced at the Sorceress to see her lift her chin and give him a single, decisive nod. Leonidas’ lips twitched at that, in amusement almost, and then finally he looked to Ceruviel.
All the Duchess did was stare back impassively.
It seemed to be enough, for he looked back to Uriel almost immediately thereafter.
“{Very well, Lord of the Dawn,}” Leonidas finally said with surprising calm, “{I will recite my [Knight Oath].}”
Please comment on what you liked or with theories you have!
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Which love interest is your favorite? (I would hope it's obvious he might get both, but I am curious!)
