Argrave stared at the silver bracer around his forearm. It fit quite snugly, and it was difficult to tell that it was sapping his blood away if not for the slowly-filling glass meter atop it. He sat atop his bed, preparing for his day. Today would be the first day he wore this bracer, and he was curious to see how it affected him.
“…why are you so unsure?” Argrave asked Anneliese.
Argrave had become a king, now. People would refer to him with the prefix ‘king’ or call him ‘your majesty’ to his face… provided they bought the whole idea, at least. Argrave wasn’t sure he did. He didn’t feel particularly kingly. Galamon and Durran addressed him that way. Durran said it was only so he didn’t make a mistake publicly. Anneliese had been addressing him as such, too, until Argrave managed to persuade her that she would become a queen, so the address was unnecessary.
Not much changed in private, though. Argrave went to sleep beside and awoke with Anneliese. They watched the suns set when they could, although recent times had kept them quite busy. They talked about magic, their plans for the future, their experiences in the past… Argrave was very glad of the normalcy in their private life. It kept him grounded, reminded him that he was but a man. Still, he might need someone to mutter ‘memento mori’ in his ears before long.
“Because you posit A-rank ascension will be as simple as walking for me,” Anneliese held her hands out exasperatedly. “It could take months after we find it.”
“And we’ll find it a month from now. Not seeing the issue,” Argrave said with a cheeky smile.
Anneliese caressed her forehead then sat beside him. “You have become a little bit too unflappable these days, Argrave,” she noted, though her voice betrayed some affection. “You, yourself, have been studying A-rank ascension, reading through the textbooks we pilfered from the Order of the Rose and Garm’s personal writing. Surely you know the difficulty by now?”
Argrave sighed at her reminder. In ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ most A-rank ascensions were passive abilities. Magister Hegazar passively projected an illusion, for instance. As Argrave recalled, Magister Vera’s allowed her to substitute elements in spells while retaining their form—electric fire, for instance. Rowe had the classic Veidimen A-rank ascension, imbuing ice into all spells. Garm’s… Argrave wasn’t sure of it fully, but one facet of it allowed the man to cast spells from his eyes. There was the man in the Margrave’s service, too—Helmuth. He had Minor Truesight.
Argrave was trying to implement his undying soul into his A-rank ascension. He wanted to improve upon the Blood Infusion he had in mind. He felt it could be done. A resilient soul, as he possessed, could surely implement into his magic. Thus far, he’d considered substituting the blood in blood magic for a strain upon his soul. The idea was tempting, and even feasible. But it negated the benefits of his black blood in blood magic—in essence, his blood magic would lose some of its punch. He wasn’t so eager to delve full-heartedly into that route.
“You’re a genius. I’ve also been studying imbuing, too,” Argrave pointed to her. “You learned that ten times faster than I did. Back at Veiden, you managed to do it in seconds after following my instructions.”
“A simple F-rank spell on a page? You compare that to your studies into imbuing?” she asked incredulously. “What have you mastered by now?”
Argrave turned his head, reaching over to the bronze hand mirror.
Traits: [Tall], [Black Blooded], [Intelligent], [Magic Affinity (High)], [Blessing of Supersession (MAX)]
Skills: [Elemental Magic (B)], [Blood Magic (B)], [Healing Magic (C)], [Illusion Magic (C)], [Warding Magic(B)], [Druidic Magic (C)], [Inscription (E)], [Imbuing (C)]
“C-rank imbuing, according to the mirror, mirror on the wall.” Argrave turned his head. “Until I can replicate B-rank spells as enchantments, what’s the point?”
“See? I have not progressed whatsoever on that field. I dislike it when you compare me to you. You always undermine yourself to make me appear more than I am,” Anneliese said.
Argrave set the mirror back on the nightstand. “Alright, alright. I think I have a pretty damned accurate gauge on your skills, though. I think you can realistically become A-rank in the timeframe allotted. After all, we’ve got notes from ages past. When you and Garm collaborated… you became B-rank in a matter of days.”
Anneliese turned her head to where the Brumesingers played, and soon enough Argrave was watching too. Anneliese’s Starsparrow sat atop their snouts, and they took turns gently tossing the bird to the air and catching it on their noses. It was such a bizarre thing, but the animals seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. Soon enough, the both of them were smiling.
“I can only try not to disappoint, Argrave,” Anneliese eventually said, resigned. “So, this ascension… Life Cycle, you called it,” she turned her head. “You can think of none better? None that synchronize with you, perhaps?”
Argrave shook his head. “Considered finding you one that matches with my battle strategy, but… I’d prefer you be capable in your own right. Life Cycle somewhat matches up with me, anyway.” Argrave smiled as he thought of it. “Bottom line, though, it focuses on remedying a universal problem for all spellcasters—the supply of magic.” Argrave rose to his feet. “We’d best get going. I’m told my personal heraldry would be finished this morning.”
#####
“I picked this one personally from numerous others, Your Majesty. I believe it is the best artistry,” Leopold explained.
“Can’t exactly see it,” Argrave pointed out, staring at the rolled black cloth before him.
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Leopold said, stepping forth. He grabbed the cloth and held it up, securing it on the top of the shelf and rolling it out.
Argrave took a step back to get a better view of what might be sewn into thousands of war banners. His eyes wandered the image, considering it.
“Considering we fight against Vasquer, an identical symbol might be confusing, as Your Majesty said. We took your request. A sable field, with an or sun in the center. Four rays of the sun end in the head of snakes, while the four remaining rays heading diagonally end in points.”
Leopold described precisely what Argrave saw, though with terms of traditional tincture rather than color. The base of the cloth was black, with a golden sun emblazoned on the center. The sun had eight wavy rays—those occupying the cardinal directions ended in snake heads. Those heading diagonally tapered off to a point instead.
“It’s distinct from the snake of Vasquer, while retaining some of its original elements. In battle, it should be easy to distinguish. And the sun… even if it is one instead of the two above, it remains a universal symbol of power and life, Your Majesty,” Leopold noted smoothly. “If this does not match with Your Majesty’s vision, I can retrieve some of the others.”
Argrave shook his head, still feeling ill at ease with his new address. “I do want to see some others just in case… but I like this one quite a bit.” Argrave turned. “Do you like it?”
Anneliese tilted her head as she stared. “It inspires a certain morale. Yes, I do like it. I think it is a curious custom, these banners. And the terminology… sable is black, correct? What is white?”
“Albus, maybe,” Argrave suggested, knowing that word’s translation only because of a certain wizard.
“Argent,” Leopold corrected. “I am unsure where His Majesty got ‘albus’ from.”
“Good work, Leopold,” Argrave complimented, unbothered by the correction.
“Thank the craftsman, Your Majesty,” Leopold deflected. “I’ll put together some others for you to look at.”
Leopold stepped away. As he opened the door, his son, Ansgar, very nearly collided with him.
“Careful now, son,” the leader of Relize said, stepping past him.
Ansgar entered, nodding at his father as he passed. “Your Majesty… Elenore would like to have a word with—”
Just as the door was about to shut, Elenore stopped it with her hand, pushing it open.
“Argrave,” Elenore called out. “No, that’s not right, is it? Your Majesty,” she greeted. Argrave stared at her passively. Her breathing was a bit fast, he noted. Had she run here?
“You’re my sister. Call me as you always do, please.” Argrave looked to the Dandalan family man. “Give us a moment, Ansgar,” he directed.
The man bowed, and quickly left. Once the door was shut, Anneliese noted, “You’re quite rattled, Elenore.”
“I’m fi— “she paused, then nodded finally, realizing lying before Anneliese was fruitless. “Yes, that’s true. I have been rattled. I know you don’t care to hear, Argrave, but I must tell you.” She took some steps closer. “Felipe has been captured by Orion.”
“What did you just say?” Argrave’s face slowly shifted as he processed what she’d said. “That doesn’t even make sense. They’re not enemies.”
“Rumors are flying everywhere, but… from what I could piece together, Orion visited Vasquer—the snake, that is. From there, he went berserk—attacked Felipe, maiming him badly. I don’t know specifics, but it was about Levin. His personal guard remained loyal to him and seized the palace. The city is in chaos—they don’t even have the numbers to retain order.”
Elenore took another step, but staggered. Anneliese caught her, then helped her to sit. Argrave could see blood coming at the bottom of her leg where the prostheses clamped.
“You didn’t need to run here,” Argrave kneeled, ready to heal her.
“This is terrible, Argrave. Disastrous,” Elenore told him bluntly. “I know… I know why you don’t want to work with me. You’re right—I am naught but a hypocrite. I didn’t trust you, wanted to take matters into my own hands. But I can’t leave things ruined like this. Even if you don’t want my help, you’ll get it.”
Argrave stayed kneeling, then healed the wounds caused by her mad dash. Anneliese sent no signal Elenore was lying… but Argrave didn’t think he needed one.
“I treated you like you were… like other members of the family, despite knowing you’re not,” Elenore continued. “Maybe it’s no excuse, but I’m not used to being underneath someone. I’m used to going my own way. All that said, I cannot allow you to walk into treacherous futures alone. I have to—”
Argrave held his hand in front of her mouth to quiet her. When she paused, Argrave said, “I’m no saint either, you realize. You’re smart. Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you.”
“…I don’t dare say it, for fear of being wrong,” Elenore said quietly. “But can I… I mean, can we…”
“Past week has been nerve wracking beyond belief without you,” Argrave admitted. “I’d already gotten it into my head that this was to be a permanent thing, you and me working together. But if the left leg can’t communicate with the right? It’d be a disaster.”
“I… I think I knew that. I certainly made many decisions towards that end. Ruleo, heh…” she shook her head. “And others. Many others. People I couldn’t trust, that thought they knew better than I did. What I’ve done to get where I am…”
“I know. Put that behind you,” comforted Argrave. “World’s ending, sis. No time for permanent rifts. We can put all of this stuff behind us. I just need you to promise that you’ll never again deceive me like this.” Argrave grabbed her hands. “I don’t want, or need, someone to do my dirty work. I don’t want a pet Bat. I want my talented little sister.”
“Older sister,” she corrected.
“You’re quite small, at least compared to me,” Argrave rebuked, stone-faced.
She shook her head, the faintest of smiles playing about the corners of her mouth. “Then… if you’re alright with me…”
“Yes?”
“We need to decide our course of action after Orion’s… I don’t even know what to call it,” Elenore shook her head. “So much will change. And he’s still yet to take action beyond capturing Felipe, so far as I know.”
“Maybe this is a change for the better?” Argrave suggested hopefully. “What’ll happen, you think?”
“Madness,” Elenore said. “Madness and opportunism.”
Argrave turned his head to Anneliese. She gave a slow, steady nod of agreement. Argrave’s face grew grim.
“I’ll strike up the band,” Argrave rose to his feet.
