Chapter Four

“Darling! Over here!” 

As Jevon conquered the final step, he was led into a commodious concourse. It was engirded by arrangements of rosy hedgerows and ornamented with equidistant effigies, portrayed with majestic posing and veiled in depictions of loose-fitting and flowy robes. By the arced edifice of the glamorous basilica, Xolani swung up a hand in greeting to beckon him to their ever-blithesome side, enhaloed by the dark luminosity of evenfall. 

Like pure and utter magic, he felt all the tension in his body capitulate instantaneously to the mollifying thrall of their deathless radiance, comparable to that first glimpse of light after a prolonged bout of rainfall. When he hastened their way, Xolani lightly bumped him on the shoulder before assuming a more casual, cross-armed stance. “… For a self-proclaimed gentleman, you certainly know how to keep a lady waiting, hm?” 

“My apologies— I… I got a bit hung up,” he murmured with a due inclination of his head, but Xolani dismissed him with a wave of their hand.

“Oh, I’m just pulling your cute little leg, Jevon— I only just arrived myself. Now then—” Xolani swiveled on their heel to face the yawning entranceway. “Let us make haste, shall we? Ah, and you need not worry about causing a ruckus— they’ve already wrapped up their business for the day, so you won’t be subjected to any of their religious warbling.” 

“I’d hate to interrupt, but… if you say it’s all right, then let’s head inside.” 

Of course, this was scarcely his first time ever entering the Basilica of Drucilla— a christening derived from that of the hailed emperor herself. He had occasionally chaperoned a certain prince of theirs back in the day whenever he was required to attend his weekly sermons. Churches have always posed a source of discomfort for him, however— even if the resident clergy consisted of relatively broad-minded individuals, it was not so much the practice itself that perturbed him as it was the peculiar, numinous— constrictive aura that pervaded these blest halls.

 Herein, the divine boundary between realms— heaven and earth, and every branch of the World Tree that expanded beyond— seemed to spread thinner— something missable to the average eye yet a grueling sensation and stuffiness that was augmented tenfold for— well, someone of his pedigree, who was woven from and once breathed in the providence of the stars. It felt as if he could reach out and grab the stars themselves ahold, even with the ceiling to obstruct his reach and the very existence of daytime to separate them— it was as if the sky had sept through the creases of the old yet fortified stonework and had coiled around him like a superlunary wreath. It left him slightly breathless every time he has ever entertained a visit, to say the least. 

He tried to fixate his focus away from the nausea unspooling in his gut and rather— the exquisite architecture— unquestionably, the gifted architect responsible for those initial blueprints could be considered a master among masters— unparagoned in their craft. It featured plenty of breathtaking, gothic elements such as exquisite cornices, grand arches and intricate vaulting, embroidered in gold and unbelievably awe-inspiring— a miracle of artisanship.

 The stellar scenery was backdropped and refortified by the prismatic interplay of invading sunlight through the dazzling, rich mosaics of the stained glass— weaving to perform tales of robed seraphim armed with basketfuls of flowers or dueling bloodily against a poetic backdrop of resplendent carnage, the imagery steeping the atriums and corridors alike. The ongoing chitchat of priests and nuns, clad in their pure-white clerical garments interweaved with regal blues and tinges of gold— occupied the pin-drop quiet that was all but amplified by the echoey tip-tap of their shoes against the stainless floors. 

And yet, even as he took great delight in dissecting every miniscule detail like he was as alert as a food critic, he still could not abate the restlessness in his heartbeat. Place the equivalence of a fallen angel in a sacerdotal setting, though— and uneasiness was inevitable, he supposed. 

As reassured by his friend, it did indeed appear that they have already wrapped up their services for the evening. The central sanctum lay eerily empty— sans a few dedicated churchmen who had lingered to assist with cleanup, or to merely pass gossip while failing to deploy their broomsticks as anything but leverages. A velvety carpet cut down the length of the main aisle, to which pews were arranged systematically on either side— the basilica did, at least, appear to prioritize its orderliness— no doubt because a certain bishop-in-training he knew of has always been rather fickle about it. 

When it came to the lauded Cardinal herself— well, truth be told, his meetings with her have yet been stretched few and far in between. Most of the foreknowledge he retained of her was directly influenced by what the public was aware of— or in most cases, from Xolani’s own mouth since they had a rather endearing tendency to gab incessantly about their former caretaker.

They were a former occupant of the orphanage that was overseen in conjunction with the church’s primary duties— it was a whole saga of which Xolani has been rather sparing when it came to the overall details. To make a long story short however, it occurred after Xolani’s birthmother— who had crossed over from another land during Xolani’s infancy with the intention of making it as an actress at the Royal Amphitheater— the second-largest entertainment venue this world over, and was only beaten out by the illustrious Dagda Theater Hall in the capital of Codoslia. However, she was unable to accomplish her dream of stardom and regrettably fell into an ocean of debilitating debt, which left her on the streets and ultimately stole her life prematurely. Xolani was subsequently taken under the wing of the church— and in particular, the Cardinal herself— who they latched onto like the motherly figure they had been so ruthlessly robbed of. Even if her followers were not particularly onboard with the idea for… reasons Xolani has yet to fully specify. 

Eventually, one thing led to another and Xolani was ultimately invited into the Alexis Dukedom after Lord Mercutio perceived potential in them. Noble society would insist it was but an act of humble charity by granting the likes of a mere commoner the rights to his great estate… but there were specific details about the case that Xolani has been especially dodgy about, so Jevon truthfully did not know the full story outside of the… unfortunate sequence of events that had encouraged Xolani to surrender their inheritance outright. Nonetheless, they were still extraordinarily close with the Cardinal… as well as her nephew. 

The Cardinal had assumed her rightful mantle on a raised podium that served to tower over the likes of the hypothetical attendance. Her head was downturned, as was her back turned to the eyes of her guests as her hands lay posed by her abdomen, elegantly interlaced. Her countenance was one of distance— as if she was partaking in some post-ceremonial castle-building. 

There was a resplendently decorated altar at her side, clothed in lace and ornamented with a reliquary of religious artifacts and treasuries. Once she detected their approach, she inclined her neck in accordance and spun around— and it indeed looked as if she had not aged a day since he was last graced with her solemn yet regal presence. She was as vibrantly beautiful as she had been years prior— and in many ways, the spitting image of her dearest younger sister: the very queen whom this war has since made their icon of conquest— Lady Camilla. 

Long tresses of ebony hair, as alarmingly dark as night— unbound to replicate wavy cataracts as it tumbled down her dignifiedly broad shoulders, paired with a complexion that was a lighter brown in tone alongside deeply colored irises— sharp, penetrating— and evocative of her grand, austere status. Her pastoral regalia was appropriately embellished— resembling something of a gorgeous gown furnished with an overabundance of glamor, enshrouding her impressive figure in a billowy trail.

 She was crowned by a brilliantly designed headpiece that was inscribed with various pieces of jewelry that seemed to shudder and irradiate in the emanant light that shadowed her majesty, charioted by the impressively large, ovular, and multihued window that backdropped the main altar. Indeed— Cardinal Daphne was a paragon of divine excellence. If she sprouted wings, it would be difficult to differentiate her from that of a splendid agent of heaven. He truthfully could not help but be a touch intimidated, in all honesty (at least it was not as embarrassing as his first meeting with Raphael, though— Roxxy had to comfort him when he burst into a fit of anxious tears because gods— remarkable height must be an Igerene-exclusive trait.) 

Jevon wondered if he should join Xolani when they, in an out-of-character feat of respect, proceeded to genuflect before the Cardinal and her wise sanctity— even though they were all about challenging tradition and ridiculing authority, their admiration toward her was surely not to be understated. “… Lady Daphne, do pray that you can forgive this one’s tardiness—” Ah, but he detected a lightheartedness in their timbre yet— even if Xolani hailed the Cardinal like the ocean did the moon, they felt remarkably more comfortable in her presence than most other authority figures.  “… I imagine that you’ve already been caught up to speed on the whole situation though, am I correct?” Xolani added as they uplifted themself, going to clasp their hips. 

“… I have indeed,” solemnly answered Daphne; albeit he was hesitant to describe her voice as something foreboding, rather— worn, something that has been utterly deprived of its innocence, even. The tone of a person who was indisputably exhausted— and has seen and heard and underwent much throughout the long length of her lifespan. But there was a conspicuous level of affection in her solid black gaze as she looked upon her sincere pupil— one that a motherless Jevon knew that he may never quite be able to understand. 

“… The Crown Prince has been captured by the Codoslian forces… and they wish to bargain for his life by convincing Igerene to surrender… it is indeed a tragedy in the making. Our Lord Roximus is the child of the heavens— to lose him would be catastrophic to the people of our nation… and I have not the shade of a doubt that the stars would reason to stay silent if a dear prospect of theirs was imperiled in any such way… but am I to assume that by your coming here that you have already have some sort of groundbreaking scheme in the works, young Xolani?” 

“… You flatter me, Lady Daphne. I am indeed something of a master manipulator— but groundbreaking? That is far too much praise… Ah, but to answer your question: Yes— His Highness has exclusively entrusted me— oh, and my trusty associate here— with the task of guaranteeing his safe return. No pressure or anything, right?” As if Jevon was less of a sidekick and more so their on-hand stress ball, Xolani grabbed a much larger hand and squeezed it tentatively. It did not last for long— Xolani withdrew shortly thereafter and pantomimed an air of coolness as they righted their posture, sweeping a composed hand over their chest.

“… You wouldn’t believe it, but this audacious gentleman here was the first to speak up regarding the prince’s capture… the senate had all but concluded that they should send their liege to his death, but… oh, you should’ve seen it, my dear. It was quite the show— he even stood up to mean old Mercutio,” Jevon’s expression dipped into a mortified grimace as Xolani cast a humorous smile at him— nudging him encouragingly to add his two cents, no doubt. 

“Xolani, I’m sincerely trying to forget that that incident ever occurred. It… it was horribly undignified,” he squeaked out his feeble retort; his cheeks pinkening.

“Standing up to the council takes an indescribable amount of pluck. I do say that it is something to be commended indeed,” alleviated Daphne as she casually fiddled with the stretchable material of her gloves. “… The council has yet to be fully scrubbed free of Eligor’s bloody conservatism, it would appear… they perceive our Lord Antares as a personification of ill will and rancor… and while we of the Church of Antares welcome any and all interpretations— as their chosen proxy… to promote the idea that our god would be satisfied with this current stream of events would be discrediting everything we stand for in the face of our evolution. Igerene cannot fall back on its wicked ways— and we cannot tempt the spirit of war any longer… and more so now that their beloved pupil sits on the precipice of destruction.” 

Well, considering that Jevon had a chance to interrogate their very god the previous night, he can also attest that Antares was not deriving pleasure in the least bit from the consequences of this brutal conflict. If anything, he did not consider her even remotely similar to what was commonly depicted in their local media— but he could not say that he quite perceived her as a heroic purveyor of justice, either. 

Hilariously, she was quite childish— part of him wondered if she was truly taking any of this seriously, or if it was but a game to her— a way to pass time as she awaited dissolution, like a person on their deathbed who was desperate for some variance of stimulation. But even if she was trying to conceal it— he had discerned those unmistakable micro-expressions of guilt that would come and go as fast as lightning.

 Did she feel genuine remorse over the tragic fate that had befallen their late queen? Or was she merely driven to secure Roxxy— her pupil— as his untimely demise would prove disadvantageous to her metaphorical retirement plan. He would have to grill some straight answers out of her one way or another. 

“… Well, Lady Daphne,” continued Xolani. “… He and I were wondering if you could bestow onto us some of your, ah… providential wisdoms, I suppose I could say? This one here is quite nervous— maybe you could sprinkle some holy water on him or something?” Xolani snickered like a troublemaking child when Jevon counteracted their teasing by lightly shoving them with his elbow.

 “… All right, all right,” they cleared their throat and slapped on their quote, unquote— “serious face,” as they leaned their lithe bodyweight against the taller of the pair. “… In all seriousness, do you have any delicious pearls of wisdom for us, Lady Daphne? We’re squaring up against a rather formidable enemy, after all… and with rumors of a demon ravaging the battlefield— well, I must admit that even I am feeling a smidge hesitant about our overall success rate.” 

“Yes, I have… come upon those ghastly rumors myself,” stated Daphne, her strong deportment momentarily upended as a wave of confliction washed over. “… One who would even entertain the idea of such churlish slaughter has already deviated from the righteous path… will not pretend that our nation has not contributed to this rampant problem of evil and warship in the past… and such violence, as you may now, can inspire unspeakable cruelty— even in those who have solemnly sworn themselves to upholding goodness. The matter of this… devil you speak of, however… it must indeed refer to someone who has invited darkness and hatred into their heart and has no intention of looking toward the sun again.” 

A fiend who trampled on the livelihoods of others for the sake of his own amusement— he was well-familiar with such a character, Jevon thought as he felt his fists clench with a long-repressed sense of fury. 

“… I would be remiss to underestimate your capabilities, of course. As a parent… rather than the leader of the church, I… cannot help but worry, you see. All I ask is that the two of you remain vigilant at all times… and that you shall not allow your hearts and minds to be led astray by indiscretion and wrath… notwithstanding how enticeful the beckon of sin may seem at times… if you began to ever question yourselves— think of what matters most in your lives… what it is you are fighting for. Whatever it is… it shall be the auspice that determines your path forward— rather than the narrow-minded jurisdiction of fate.” 

Xolani responded with yet another prostration of courtesy— pledging with a hand held to their heart and a bow of their head. “Your wisdom and your darling beauty are both indispensable to us, Lady Daphne. I shall endeavor to take your generous advice to heart,” they then spread out their arms to posit a shrug.

 “… But seriously, I cannot believe you’re making me work this hard, my fair lady! They always thought I was a hopeless cause— but look at me now, darlings— fighting to protect this impossibly stubborn kingdom as a heritor of justice… I better be compensated and then some— do you know how difficult it’s going to be to upkeep my beauty routine on the road? And all those ghastly insects? Jevon, perhaps you should kill me now,” they grieved as they dramatically flopped over to splay against their associate’s bodyweight, earning an unimpressed roll of the eye in response.

“You’re the one who volunteered to tag along, though.”

“Oh, by the way,” catapulting into a different subject matter altogether, they peeled away from Jevon and raised a hand to their brows like a salute as they scoped out their environment. “Where is my sweet little Donny at? I was considering how I ought to break the news to him, but… something tells me he might be a little displeased with my decision… Even though this sort of dirty work is my vocation, he’s never been particularly… er, fond of my craft,” a touch awkwardly, Xolani tugged at the collar of their top as their eye darted around sporadically. 

Of course, Donny was referring to Prince Donati— an heir of the kingdom who has since rescinded his royal status to work alongside the Cardinal as her duteous apprentice. He was remarkably the fraternal twin of the Crown Prince, although their personalities could not be any more dissimilar. 

Contrastively, Donati was quite reserved, even a bit standoffish— and he has rarely ever made an attempt to interact with Jevon in the past, though he considered it less of a fault on his account per se and rather Donati’s outright distaste for socializing. He kept his social profile limited to the frequenters of the cathedral, such as Lady Daphne— his blood aunt— and naturally, a rather rambunctious Xolani who had a habit of fraternizing with the clergy, although their relationship dated back decades. Their temperaments ought to blend as well as oil and water— and yet, the two of them were as close as two people could be, as he has reviewed. 

“I believe he got hung up over at the orphanage for today— even if he has pointedly stated how much he detests handling the children, they stick to him like a magnet nevertheless,” answered Daphne as she raised a mouth to dampen a bit of laughter that was liable to escape past her watertight solemnity. “… I can pass on a message on your behalf, but… I do believe it would be better if you spoke with him directly, Xolani… you know how much he concerns himself about your wellbeing.” 

“Ah… well, I’m worried that if I do… there’s a chance that seeing him may just shatter my resolve,” as confident as they were, Jevon could tell that the mask was starting to crack— that Donati was capable of breaking through it wholly if Xolani entertained the risk of falling victim to the bite of his concern. “… It’ll be all right,” they reasoned with a distracting wave of their hand, even if Jevon could still see their fingers trembling at the corners as they curled into themselves, their eye slanting to the ground. 

“… I likely wouldn’t have the time, either— that is, I’ve got a terrible amount of packing to do and we’re set to embark the day after tomorrow! That’s hardly enough time to plan out all my potential outfit combinations for every day of the following month,” they uplifted their shoulders and brushed back a disobedient rope of hair. “So—! On that note, we should get going… my feet are aching from that horrible march up the stairs, though— we should really consider installing one of those newfangled thingamajigs that can move you up and down between floors— an elevator, I believe? They’re all the rage over in Kouka at the moment, you know? Anyway, Jevon— my dearest boy, why don’t you be my designated chauffeur for the evening and carry me around on those big, strong arms of yours?” 

“Xolani, you complain about a few steps… but didn’t you just drag me all over town yesterday? I know you have more stamina than that,” Jevon considered as he respectfully put his foot down. “Besides, these muscles of mine have atrophied immensely after all that desk work I’ve been forced to shoulder lately…” 

“But they’re so nice,” counter-pointed Xolani as they cheekily went for a squeeze at his bicep. “And meaty— you’re absolutely packing it under these loose robes, huh?” 

“Sir Fulbright, pay this dramatic fool no mind,” the Cardinal interjected as Xolani surrendered their mischief-making with a pooched-out pout. “… Though, do allow me to express my gratitude— that is, for continuing to watch over them as you have been all these years… I am truly grateful to know that they have such a dear confidant whom they can depend on,” and Jevon was unsure what to do with his modesty when the Cardinal suddenly bowed before him— it was like a celebrity showing their respect and he was deeply unsure how he should handle it— so he floundered a bit to scramble up an adequate-enough reply, hands flying around. 

“No, no… well, they can be a bit of a handful at times, but— Xolani isn’t any trouble at all,” he let his sporadic hands fall as Jevon invited a natural smile onto his face. “… If anything, I ought to be thanking them— so much has happened in these last few years, and yet… they have stuck by my side through thick and thin regardless… sometimes I wonder if I am even worthy of such kindness…” 

“Now, now— my sappy little sugar muffin isn’t allowed to degrade himself in my presence. Am I clear?” Xolani said as they flicked his nose in gentle reprimand. 

“Ah… my apologies— I wasn’t trying to be negative…” 

“… Well, if that is all said and done… Lady Daphne, I do believe this is where we make our curtain call,” Xolanir regarded as they turned to face their appreciated idol again— supplying a courteous nod. “… As much as it pains me to part from your loveliness, I’m afraid that the road ahead of us will be arduous indeed— we best prepare for it to the best of our ability, yes? But fear not— with the Great Xolani and their ever-dependable sidekick at their beck and call, you may as well already consider this case closed,” they spoke with high confidence as they knocked their fist back into Jevon’s chest for emphasis. “… An unsurpassable pair we are indeed! Defeat isn’t even on the menu, so no need to worry yourself to wrinkles, dear Cardinal.” 

“… And I would expect nothing less from my astute pupil… all I ask is that you abstain from throwing yourself needlessly into danger, my child. I am entrusting you to maintain a clear and cautious conscience despite whatever anomalies you may encounter,” she instructed, and Xolani went on to reassure her with an arch wink. 

“You don’t need to tell me twice, my lady. You can count on us.” 

“Just a moment before you leave,” interrupted the Cardinal as she reached for their fleeing figures, causing Xolani to bounce around in a three-sixty with their arm still snug around their reliable partner-in-crime. “… Sir Fulbright, may I ask you to stay for just a moment? It will not take long… I have a certain matter that I wish to discuss with you privately,” both he and Xolani were palpably taken aback by this demand, and exchanged a short-lived glance between each other as though they were trying to telepathically decipher her intention— but in the end, as skeptical as Xolani was, they released their friend and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. 

“Oh, perhaps she has some sort of divine revelation for you, sweetheart. You are our miracle who tumbled out of the sky, after all,” Xolani pressed, then turned and backpedaled down the short array of stairs, throwing their hand up to grant him a motionless wave. “… I’ll be waiting outside, so make sure you fill me in on all the juicy gossip!” 

Once Xolani vanished behind the security of the entrance, the enthusiastic tip-tap of their overlong heels slowly but surely receding until the nebulous silence of the cathedral reigned true once again. Jevon was a bit frightened, in all truth— it felt as if he had been called in by the principal, given how… imposing her presence was— but he practiced dignity first and foremost, and coughed into his glove as he reworked his posture appropriately, damning himself to face her imperial eye head-on. It was so grave a stare that it could easily slice through metal, however— despite achieving greater height between the two, he felt unbearably mousy, and he tried to hypothesize what sort of terrible crime he could have committed that would invoke the Cardinal herself to harangue him.  

“… Your Grace, have I offended—” 

“You were contacted by them, were you not?” 

When he failed to provide proper sustenance for her curiosity as it was too vague an accusation— with a flourish of white robes, the Cardinal turned to survey the prismatic luster of the rounded stained glass— then offered a due elaboration. “… I speak of our Lord Antares, of course… they have visited you recently… have they not, my dear fallen star?” 

There was not a chance that he could obscure his celestial genealogy from the likes of the maiden of the church, he supposed. It was a title— an honor— imparted only upon those respectable few who have earned the outright approval of the stars to serve as their earthly mediums— so, she might have deduced it from the moment the prince brought his battered self home.

 And truthfully, it was only because his master suggested it that Jevon has since chosen to keep inhumane origins under the wraps— there could be those who would doubtless aspire to deploy his divine blood for nefarious means— it could even spark war if he was incautious. Men will always yearn to be more than simply men— and the gods will wish for nothing than to be human. 

 But he had little reason to be afraid of Daphne— as a chosen agent of the heavens and the sister of a woman he could have loved like she was his actual mother had they more time together. Therefore, he steeled his cool and faced her without the least bit of irresolution. “… I… Antares came to me last night… she helped me realize the truth of this war— of who was truly responsible for the death of… of Lady Camilla. Alongside… the existence of an ancient foe who has managed to break free of his imprisonment… due to the meddling of a rather… spiteful viper.” 

“… You speak of the fell god, Betelgeuse,” iterated the Cardinal. “… I, too… sensed a disturbance in the cosmos when his long-held shackles came undone… but I could only speculate the cause, for the heavens are not as generous with the distribution of their knowledges as you may think… Furthermore, I frequently sought council with Lord Antares… it was no more than a voice— I doubt I shall ever pay heed to their physical form— such is a heresy in the eyes of the divine law… but as of late, that voice has been quiet. In the last few years, I have scarcely heard so much as a whisper… I can only presume it is because… their departure from this plane is nigh. Am I correct?” 

“… That is indeed what she explained to me… although she decidedly skimped out on the details.”

“An evil god unleashed from his captivity… the inevitable expiry of our own… and at last, the seizure of our Crown Prince, who bears upon his flesh a brand of fate… sworn to succeed Antares… all these outlandish variables come together to wreathe a rather inauspicious image in my head, Sir Fulbright—” And Daphne brought her ruminating to a brief standstill as she upraised a finger to seat what appeared to be a butterfly of blue— but there was something distinctly orphic about it— not of this world, he would say. 

“… Is this a premonition, I wonder? As I listen to Mother Eden’s howls of anguish… and now that the light of the Great Mediator has since been cast out… what will become of this world? Or will Fate swear ruination once again? That cursed, vile twilight…” 

“Cardinal Daphne, is…?” 

“… The reason that Lord Antares led you to this kingdom,” continued Daphne— blurrily, Jevon swore there had been something else just now— another, interloping presence— but there was a fragment in his memory yet as he was suddenly thrust upon the magnitude Cardinal’s penetrative, all-business gaze— compelling him to straighten out his back like he was reporting to his commanding officer. 

 “… And why they decided to bring you and the prince together… was it because they believed that only you and him have the capability to rise up and rebel against destiny— of overturning these fruitless tides and restoring due order to the world? Or is this but a practical joke on their behalf? I ever find myself questioning the whims of the divine— how troublesome,” Daphne shook her head and let out a sigh that was no doubt built upon years of doubting— but she must have understood the futility in chasing impossibilities, so she interwreathed her arms behind her back and focused on what was tangibly ahead of her, seemingly.

“… You may yet find yourself entangled in a rather convoluted mystery as the stars’ estranged heir, young one… but that should not deter you from the core of your objective. I… I implore you on behalf of myself and my late sister both that you never lose your way. And if all seems at a loss… believe in the creed of the garden of silver… 

… it shall doubtless guide you back onto the correct path.” 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“Hey there, doll! All finished up?” 

“Yes— thank you for waiting, Xolani,” they hadn’t devoted much time to their churchly escapades— but nightfall was already well on its way, for the firmament had pitched to a dusky, starless blue.

 Honestly, this has truly been one of the longest days of his life— countless nights of restlessness paired with more than a dozen of earth-shaking bombshells and an inexpressible amount of stress had fatigue flooding over him like a vicious stampede. It felt as if he was liable to topple over at any given second. Regrettably, there were still a number of things on his checklist he still needed to run through before he could even consider heading homebound for the evening— such as… 

“… Pardon me, Xolani… but I was wondering if you had a moment?” 

“Of course, my love! Why, you don’t even have to ask— you ought to know that I am always willing to set aside some time to entertain my sweet little angel,” his friend spoke in an affectionate chirp as they patted his cheek excessively. They then mindfully stepped out of his personal space, though their eye stood wide with explicit anticipation, fists raised— like an actor eager to see if they had won the part. “… Now, tell Autine Xolani what’s bothering you, hm? I’m all ears!” 

Well— as anxious as Jevon was to have this conversation with them— he more or less knew what sort of reaction he was going to get, after all— it was better to cope with an eensy bit of discomfort than, say— face whatever it was his intolerable anxiety was prefiguring if he remained close-mouthed and compliant. So, he pushed through that knot of atelophobia that was clawing at his breast and exhaled preemptively before aiming to meet their eye with fearless assurance.

 “… Xolani, I… I pray that you don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way or anything, but I… it has been gnawing at me, you see— I… knowing what lies ahead, I wonder if… I wonder if it would be wise for you to accompany me— that is, I am not underestimating what you are capable of. I know… you’re a calculative, intelligent person— the smartest I know, really… but I… goodness, the thought of anything happening to you petrifies me, my friend… or worse yet, what Roxxy would do to me if he learned that I wasn’t able to protect you… not that I wouldn’t have already punished myself before he’d even get a chance to, I—” 

As he prattled and prattled on, a raised hand— a sign for silence— would wrench his extended monologuing to an immediate cut-off as Jevon blinked his eyes dumbly, trying to find— something on his friend’s expression but Xolani was more or less a clean slate. Cool— expressionless. “… Jevon,” they started, reaching out to secure a hold on his wrist. “… I want you to come with me for a bit.” 

Needless to say, he was unable to get so much as a word in edgewise before he was being jerked down that domineeringly immense flight of stairs, and almost stumbled partway down as he blundered after a brisk, impatient Xolani— uncharacteristically— and eerily, he must add— quiet for a change. Whatever protests Jevon had subsequently would fall upon deaf ears as he was guided through the various twists and turns of the thoroughfares and the avenues until they were overshadowing the city from its highest peak— Castle Montague.

 They surmounted steep hilltops and crossed through miniature groves until they reached the on-site garrison— ridden empty as most of its prior attendees have since taken to the frontlines, albeit he did eye a few guardsmen responsibly patrolling the area. Greetings were kept clipped and to the point which was— exceptionally unrealistic for his social butterfly of a best friend— but he had little time to decipher their behavior before Xolani was all but shoving him into the adjacent arena.

It was a small training yard enclosed in a dome-shaped building with a roofless ceiling. There were a congregation of dummies that were straw-woven and banded by rope, and were in considerably immaculate condition. After all, this specific yard typically called forth the attendance of either the Montagues themselves or the Valkyrie— and outside of the Crown Prince and Commander Ophelia, their likewise siblings were mostly pacifists that specialized in other fields of practice— and, well— the Valkyrie were M.I.A. as well. 

Once they entered, Xolani at last loosened their grip on his wrist, which he rubbed absently as he watched them swagger over to one of the racks positioned in the shade, containing wooden replications of base weaponry, strictly meant for training. Suddenly, a practice blade was chucked in his direction— and it would fumble in his hands for a moment, articulating his shock. He widely stared at Xolani as they armed themself with their own counterpart and manned their position at the other end of the hypothetical ring, slotting their unarmed hand around their back.

“Xolani… you’re not considering— I just said that it wasn’t because I underestimate you—” 

“And yet you apparently suspect that I’m going to fall over and die the moment we set foot outside the capital,” interrupted his friend, tutting as broke their stance briefly to shrug and shake their head with vexation. “Come now, my dear— I may make jokes about it, but I’m hardly in any position to be protected like some defenseless little princess. While I never had any intention of becoming one of my father’s chivalrous knights— he still battered me blue so I could at least master the basics…” 

“I… I know, Xolani… I simply… the risk is too great, and I’m worried—” 

“… May I remind you that I am one of the select few who has managed to meet our elite Warrior Prince eye-for-eye in combat? Or better yet—” 

They could have very well submerged into the shadows. Like a cat slick in the night— they reappeared at his rearguard with their proverbial blade trapped against his throat— if it were real, that darkly glinted steel would have been washed red, or better gold— if he had been unluckily made their prey for this evening. His eye slid back to meet piercing orange— a sly smile just scarcely sequestering the bite of their wolfish fangs.

 “… If you were one of my clients, then the Nightwalker would have already been disposed to steal your life,” they murmured in a hair-raisingly low, menacing timbre. “… Do you know what it is I do in the dark, Jevon? Do you know what sorts of evils I’ve made a job of flirting with? All the lives that have bled out underneath these hands of mine? Or… will you care to chide me like good Donati has ever since I decided to join my brothers of the moon?” 

With imaginary steel entrapped at his windpipe and the probability of his death an almost tangible vestige, his Adam’s apple rippled as he tempted the urge to swallow. “… I… I don’t mean to reprimand you, Xolani… but you must understand where I’m coming from though, right? I… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something—” 

If I lost you too— he squeezed the hilt of his dummy sword with increasing fierceness and clenched his eyes— picturing that ill-fated possibility— their tender blood spilled remorselessly across the soil— and the guilt would leave not but a scrap of bone left in its devouring wake if he stood back and let them enjoy this risk. Even if it was scarcely different from their usual routine. Even if Xolani was already well-courted with this gruesome dance of slaughter and misery and even if they possessed the conflated brainpower of one thousand elite generals. It was unthinkable— unthinkable and it ached— it ached so profoundly it felt like his lungs had all but withered up and he couldn’t— 

“… Xolani, please… you don’t need to fight me to prove a point, I— I get it… I do, but… I’m terrified,” and if this was a real battlefront, he would have been the laughingstock of the army as he let his sole weapon of defense clang to the ground and twirled around to face the slightly more vulnerable expression of his dearest confidant. 

Truer colors that were alluded to but ultimately painted over when the Cardinal questioned their loyalty to this cause— or namely, the inescapable variable that could potentially foredoom their return— if they would at all. They were waltzing headfirst into a den of snakes, after all— regardless if Xolani was a natural, there was such a difference between their ordinary work and the inexplicable insanity of war. “… Besides, I already know that I wouldn’t be able to win against you,” Jevon insisted as he cracked a humored smile. “If I’ve yet to best Roxxy once— then by basic probability, my chances of catching you off guard are next to zero, I’m afraid.”

“… Throwing in the towel before we’ve even crossed swords. Goodness me— are you truly protagonist material? I’m starting to think there was a mix-up somewhere,” yet surrender was evidently a valid option in their eye as well as Xolani gracelessly cast their sword to the ground and clapped their hands to their waist, arching over to sigh heartily. “… You’re not wrong, though… all those years of knight training and I’ve learned to think with my fists, it seems. There’s nothing the least bit courteous about this,” they straightened up their back and tugged on Jevon’s sleeve, pointing over at a simplistic marble bench that was available in the shadows of the court. “… Let’s enjoy a battle of tongues rather than blades for now and discuss this cordially.” 

He abided with their demands and pursued them over to their designated seating place. His arms hung limply between his spread legs while Xolani intercrossed their own— distracting themself as they flicked and toyed with the dangly bit of their earring. An interim of quiet passed before either felt warranted to address the tension— and as Jevon began to play the anxiety game with his thumbs, Xolani at last ceased their fidgeting and surveyed the emptiness of the yard, outlined in fragile moonlight.

 “… I do remember back at the academy when His Highness finally bent to all your painstaking harassment and attempted to teach you about the ways of the sword,” Xolani recalled as they muffled a chuckle into their knuckles. “… Goodness, you were atrocious at the beginning— even worse than I was, and I promise you that’s saying something… you kept getting your stances all wrong and sometimes I caught you holding the damn thing backwards. Not to mention, you’re astoundingly clumsy, Jevon— is it a genetic trait in your family?”

“I… wouldn’t be able to know, unfortunately.”

“… Heh… well, as uncoordinated as you are, you and our dear prince are both stubborn little fellas, I’ll give you that… the type who’ll just keep at it until you finally succeed. You’ve even continued to upkeep your training regimen long after, haven’t you? I know you’ve definitely got the brawn to show for it— desk job my foot,” they teased as they pinched one of his thick biceps— and Jevon chortled as he soothed the area with his palm. 

“… I’m still tripping over my two left feet though, I’m afraid.”

“Nonsense— you wowed me with your dancing ability the other night, my dear… you have what it takes to be a first-rate nobleman. When you and His Highness get married, I doubt even the council will be able to ridicule your competence for etiquette, commoner or not,” a rather undignified squeak of “marry—!?” paired with a dizzying rush of embarrassment was thus underscored by Xolani’s erratic giggling, the intensity of their hysteria dipping them backward— a precarious notion, considering the bench was backless— but they stabilized themself before any major accidents could occur. Afterward, as if that bout of enthusiasm had eaten up the rest of their stamina, Jevon felt their weight totter into his own as they nestled their head in the crook of his throat, smiling yet but— noticeably, it was far more tired. 

“… It would indeed be nice if we could return to the good ol’ days… when the three of us were still together,” eye falling prey to the comfortable positioning, it slid shut— and as if to assuage them further, Jevon offered his hand as he soothed the inside of their hand with his thumb. “… Do you think I’ve a choice otherwise, Jevon? That I… can look away when the man we both adore so dearly has gone and written himself away to a death sentence? I… I’ve spent so long thinking of myself as powerless. So many times, I… I’ve failed. I failed to impede this war… I failed to protect Her Majesty… I failed to protect Roxxy from his own damned rage, and I’m certain that I’ll continue—” 

Xolani untangled themself from their friend and adjusted their posture as a hand fell along the ornate material of their eyepatch— their resilient phlegm tumbled yet— displaced by inestimable shame— undisguised grief. “… All he desired was a kinder world, right? I don’t have many hopes or dreams that aren’t his own… but I wonder if there’s any other place where a cursed child like myself belongs… other than the embrace of the shadows? All right, that sounded a bit too edgy for my liking— but you get it, Jevon,” they released their patch and modeled an attempt at a smile, even if it seemed about as even around the edges as withering sandpaper. 

“…  I can’t abandon this road now… we’re already in too deep, you know? I need to confirm the suspicions I’ve been having with my own two hands… somehow, I think this journey may just be that shining beacon that illuminates the truth,” they lightly knocked their knuckles against his shoulder. “… And besides, you really think that I can let you go alone, Jevon? I know that you’re completely and utterly helpless without me, after all. Can’t even tie your own shoes lest I’m here to shine my impressive wisdom upon thee,” they slapped a hand against their chest as if it was something to be proud of— and Jevon could only sigh, glancing down worryingly at his entwined hands. 

“… I don’t have a way of convincing you, do I?” 

“Indeed you don’t! I’m going to be the delightful thorn in your side until death does us part, my dearest Jevon,” Xolani foredoomed as they reached up to pat the top of his head. “… I’m the eldest of our merry trio, so it’s respectively my duty to ensure that my little ducklings don’t run off and gets themselves horribly endangered… and I also acknowledge that this isn’t just going to be some jubilant stroll in the park,” they ceased their head-scratching and screwed on a more sober face as they met his eye with unflagging determination. 

“… I am more than cognizant of the risks involved, Jevon… that there’s a strong possibility we won’t come back alive, let alone with His Highness in tow… but even should we cower before the prospect of death, we cannot elude its judging gaze— no matter where we flee… so the most we can do is confront it head-on, yes?”

“… I suppose that is the most natural part about being human, right?” Jevon muttered to himself as if it was some newfound, groundbreaking discovery. He then unclasped his hands and moved them to grip his knees instead, pardoning himself briefly to partake in some breathing before at last braving himself to consider Xolani’s shadowed, expectant profile. 

“… All right,” he decided, even if his overanxious mind was tempted to hogtie them and lock his friend in a closet until he was able to close the book on this chapter— but he would not contend against what Xolani has already decided for themself. He would never deprive a person of the freedom of choice— or attempt to stymie their independence.  “… Forgive me for trying to insinuate that I lacked faith in you, Xolani… I know that this isn’t a road I can tread alone— not without sensible results, in which case… but you must promise me that you won’t be reckless. I cannot… I cannot lose anyone else, Xolani… especially not you.”

“… Careful with your words or I might consider this a love confession.” 

“Xolani, can you attempt to be serious for just two minutes of your life?” 

“Oh, you’re as much of a stick in the mud as Donny is,” tsked Xolani as they leapt up from the bench and positioned a hand on their hip while the other extended to Jevon— a certification of their pact. “… I know that my antics are always causing you trouble one way or another… but if you could stick with me for the time being, well— I’d appreciate it, my dear Jevon,” they bargained with a cheeky wink, highlighted by the lunar light. Jevon belatedly wondered if he was auctioning himself off to the whims of the Devil, but he nevertheless accepted their contract as he slotted their fingers together. 

“… Hardly something we need to write in a blood pact, Xolani. Where else would I think to run off to?”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“Ah, good morning, El. Did you sleep well?”  

All he got in response was an exhausted groan as the scholar flung herself unceremoniously into the chair and slumped her face onto the clothed table. She was dressed down to just her frilly undershirt and skirt; her ostentatious cape and stockings doffed, and hair unfastened in a cataract of scarlet curls. Aurora trotted into the dining area and immediately approached Elena, rubbing up against one of her unclad legs— it would appear that she has taken quite a liking to the scholar, much to Elena’s chagrin. She was not much of an animal person, but she nevertheless replied in kind with a scratch behind the ear.  

Moreover, Jevon himself was in the process of whipping up some breakfast, of which he usually skipped out on; that is, apart from the instances when Xolani has dropped by with custardy treats and fluffy loaves. But he had a guest; if he allowed them to go unfed, what sort of host would he be? Cooking was not a particular specialty of his, but he knew the basics, flipping over a greasy slab of pork with a spatula and pressing down on it, watching it sizzle as he hummed a random melody. Elena shifted slightly, her cheek plopped against the wood and aimed a tired look at her brother from across the kitchenette.  

“So? What’s on the agenda today?”  

“Oh, well, there are some supplies that I need to return to the office… I was also thinking that I should probably inform Lady Antigone that we’ve another mouth to feed. I’m sure they won’t mind your inclusion, though— the more the merrier as they say, right?” He drew his attention away from the fizzling meat to show his sister a weary smile. Of course, sleep did not come to Jevon easily last night; he might have gotten about a handful of hours, but with those bedeviling anxieties and more than a dozen questions, he definitely didn’t attain the suggested amount. “… I’ve already finished most of my packing, though. Do you already have everything you need for the road? If not, we could drop by the market.”  

“Nah… it’s best to travel lightly, yeah? I’ve got all the essentials,” or so she claimed; and yet, when Jevon was inspecting her luggage earlier, it mostly contained hefty volumes that he doubted she requested permission to borrow from the academy before this abrupt sabbatical. When he inquired her about her teaching position, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand and insisted that it was “taken care of,” but… well, knowing his sister, it was likelier that she had sprinted off without so much as leaving a note to inform them of her departure… her cohorts must surely be worried, but Elena was unsure if she could bring herself to care about them nearly as much in comparison. 

“… Well, if you’re certain. This will be a long journey, though— it wouldn’t hurt to pack a little extra if you think you need it… Ah, and since I need to drop by the castle, would you like to accompany me? It’s been some time since you last visited the archives, right?”  

“Some of the books in there are older than our great-great-great-grandparents and I don’t think it’s been combed out since… but I guess it’s worth checking out— not that I haven’t already appraised their entire collection,” Jevon smiled— even if his sister tried to hide it, he could tell that the prospect excited her.  

“Moreover, I’m sure that Xolani would be thrilled to see you.”  

Elena visibly cringed at the mention; she hauled herself up, leaning against her palm as a grimace distorted her mouth. “Oh, I’m absolutely jumping with joy… I mean, I would— but, ah… bad back, you know.” 

“Oh, come now, El. They’re not so bad… I know they can be a mite… eccentric, but they ultimately mean well.” 

“Eccentric is putting it loosely, in my opinion… they wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t so insistent on intruding on my delicious personal space… Oh, and another thing— I ain’t some pretty little dress-up doll, all right? They’re always like, “Oh, Elena, dear, you’d be so precious in this! Oh, Ellie dear, try on that! Try on this! Oh, you’re so cute and small and huggable and—” Gods! It is so much to ask to be taken seriously here?” Her chest puffed out and her shoulders were pulled high in a relatively fruitless attempt to make herself appear larger. “I’m one of the kingdom’s most elite scholars, dammit!”  

“We all take you seriously, El. I promise… don’t worry, if Xolani gets carried away, I’ll make sure to step in on your behalf. Okay?”  

“Yeah right— you let them walk over you like a fuckin’ rug.”  

“Ah… that… that isn’t true…”  

Elena ultimately yielded with a heavy huff— swinging her arm across the back of the chair as she lazily reclined herself backward. “… Since we’re all s’pposed to be united under a common cause, I’ll try to play nice… but the moment that wiseass starts pulling out the frills, somebody’s gettin’ an impromptu shave.” 

“Thank you, for… for making an effort to get along with them, at least.” 

“The sacrifices I make for family, huh?”  

“Mm… I really am grateful that you’re here, El.”  

Elena waved dismissively at him again; however, he could catch that tiniest pull to her lips, hidden under a frizzled wreath of bed hair.  

Then, she sniffed the air. “Hey, does somethin’ smell like it’s burning?”

“… Oh, fuck!”  

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

So much for it being the equivalent of a dusty tomb, Jevon thought as he observed his sister ransack the shelves of the royal archives, dumping its contents onto one of the rounded oak tables, and prayed that it wouldn’t crumble under the weight as she constructed mountains upon mountains of beefy books. 

Her persistently foul mood was all but sabotaged by her unrelenting eagerness to learn as Elena chipperly dashed from one selection to the next, canvassing a variety of genres with a giddy gleam on her face. Well, they were making good time— it was only a quarter after noon and he was able to finish up most of his preparations, which included cleaning out his office, returning his loaned supplies and fraternizing with his colleagues, who all bid him good wishes— unlike their perpetually waspish manager, who didn’t so much as a spare him a single glance. He did, however, make sheep’s eyes at Elena, who affably responded with her middle finger. 

Thereafter, they met up with Lady Antigone and Lord Julius, who they found bickering while surveying a map, initially about which routes they should exploit before hurtling off into a tangent about their grim history. It had already put Antigone into a dour mood; she didn’t shy away from upbraiding Jevon and when he and their compeer approached, but she ultimately acquiesced. Whereas Elena had sequestered herself behind him for the length of the conversation with her face as red as her hair and a stammer on her lips when Antigone called upon her. Ah, yes. Elena may possess one of the most brazen mouths on this planet, but in her own words, “when it came to beautiful women, she simply had no idea how to deal with them.” Her Achilles’ heel, perhaps.  

Lord Julius did mention something about an additional strategy meeting later that day— given that they were set to embark the following morning, it would do them well to review their arrangements in the event they overlooked anything, and on the battlefield, such nescience was as destructive as a forgotten nail. For now, though, he would allow his sister to indulge; there were no libraries on the road, and he’ll have to inform her that lugging around an entire crateful of books isn’t exactly optimal for long-ranged travel. So, for the meantime, Elena could read and read to her heart’s content until obligation inevitably dragged them away… and in this uninterrupted quiet, Jevon himself could be permitted a moment to breathe amid all of the bedlam as well.

Or so he hoped, but…  

“… So, how long do you intend to follow me around?”  

“Oh?” Came a confounded voice, its beholder materializing from nothingness, and landed gracefully on undressed feet. “And here I thought I had done a worthy job at concealing my presence.”  

“You forget who I am,” Jevon retorted; albeit, if he were to make a comparison, the god had been akin to a niggling insect. Not wholly corporeal, and yet, he has felt her breath on his neck since he left the house this morning.  

“Ah, that is true; I’m certain that even the smallest, most trifling bug cannot elude the perspicacious gaze of the heir of the stars… now, don’t glower at me. I was merely jesting.”  

“Is there something that you need?”  

Antares draped a hand across her chest, as if his innocuous question had affronted her somehow. “Have you already forgotten? I told you before, didn’t I? I do not possess the power to bring an end to this dastardly war myself, so… I can only resign myself to being your guide. That is, I shall do my best to direct you toward the path that you most desire… and, of course, I’ve seen firsthand just how scatterbrained you can be, child,” she smiled teasingly, and Jevon felt like defenestrating himself— what was it and these people constantly bringing attention to his ungainliness? He’s not some awkward youth anymore!  

“Moreover, I’ve a question.” 

“Yes?”  

The god set her sights upon Elena, who was currently busying herself with some chunky volume, slanted against one of the colossal shelves. “… That one… are you certain that you should invite that one to accompany us? By that, I mean… if you do find yourselves entangled in a fight, I don’t have faith that a simple scholar would be capable of defending herself. And… I’m sure that there will be times when you won’t be able to protect her, Astrophel.”  

“… Elena is a gifted alchemist. Magic in and of itself can be a deadly source of power if practiced incorrectly, but… I don’t think she would fling herself onto an active battlefield if she didn’t think she was prepared for it. I mean, of course I’m still worried… Master Joseph told me to watch after her, and by allowing her to come along… it feels like a betrayal. But even if I tried to stop her, she’d find a way to intercept us regardless… she’s quite stubborn, you know.”  

“And such stubbornness can easily get someone killed; I’ve witnessed it time and time again,” the god deadpanned. “This is war, after all. Sacrifices are inevitable. Even if you want to paint yourself as some sort of savior, the heavens won’t take pity on everyone,” her eyes lowered. “… but most of all… yes, I wonder… what exactly is that fool plotting?”

That last sentence had been murmured, so Jevon had not picked up on it. “What was that?” Clarification never arose, however; Antares merely shook her head and sighed.  

“Well, you can do as you please,” she acceded. “But do consider heeding my gracious warnings, Astrophel. The path you’ve decided to walk is one that is wrought with uncertainty. Be vigilant.”  

“Right…” 

“Oi, Jevon! Are you in here?”  

A familiar fruity voice pierced through the tranquility, followed by the distinct pitter-patter of heels. When Jevon hailed them over with a hand, Xolani audibly huffed and beetled over to him, looking quite miffed.  

“Jevon, you little traitor! You should’ve informed me that you were coming to the castle today; I’ve been saddled with the responsibility of entertaining all of those dried-up fuddy-duddies in the council— it’s been so boring! Well, at least I’ve an excuse to slack off now, hm?” Xolani interlocked their arms around Jevon’s bicep and playfully wiggled their eyebrows. He laughed softly; he wondered why his friend, as work-shy as they were, volunteered to lead this operation in the first place if they were intending to idle about regardless. Ah, well— he wouldn’t doubt the amount of stress that Xolani must be lugging around at the moment— this time, at least, their indolence can be condoned.  

 “Ah, you’re looking better today, though. I must admit that I’ve been quite worried about you, little star. Those bags do nothing for your natural charm,” with a perfunctory poke on his nose, Xolani withdrew. “So, what brings you to these old archives, anyhow? I’ve never taken you for a bibliophile, Jevon—”  

“Oh, fuck.”  

An exclamation succeeded by the distinct thud of collapsing books, Xolani pivoted so quickly he worried that his poor friend would give themself whiplash out of pure elation. Xolani marveled at the thunderstruck girl as if they had just happened upon a chest brimful of treasure. Once her initial mystification ebbed out, her survival instincts kicked in and she turned, prepared to run for her life; however, she was ultimately caught by the hungry bear, swooped into a pair of arms and spun around gleefully.  

“Ellieeeeeeee! Oh, my sweet little muffin, it’s been so long! I’ve missed you so, so much!” In a moment of pity, they ceased their rag-dolling of the poor girl and raised her upward, hands tucked under her armpits, examining her with a jolly grin. “Ah, look at this dress! You look so precious! Whoever selected it for you truly has a keen eye for fashion!”  

“Put me down you fuckhead— agh—!” 

“Jevon, don’t you think so? She’s like a cute little doll!” Xolani swung Elena in his direction, as if she was no more than a porcelain doll and Xolani was a schoolgirl, vehemently boasting about it during show-and-tell. “She hasn’t changed at all since I’ve last seen her! Still as small, sweet, and adorable as always! Ellie, say, can I have you model for me for a bit? Oh, oh— maybe I could do your hair too, and your nails, and your— ow, ouch, owie-ouch! She’s biting me!”  

Ever the peacekeeper, Jevon stepped over, pried Elena from their friend’s hands, and reunited her with the floor. Elena immediately took cover behind Jevon, grasping the back of his garment tightly while growling with all the fierceness of a choleric kitten. Xolani bowed their head apologetically. 

 “Ah, I’m sorry, Ellie! Perhaps I got a bit too carried away, there— I didn’t mean to upset you, firefly. It’s just been so long! I really have missed you… I’m afraid your timing is a bit, er… unfortunate. I presume Jevon has already filled you in on our current situation?”  

“Yeah, stupid prince’s getting held for ransom by the enemy. And for reasons that are hopefully unrelated to that, I’m comin’ along, too,” Elena declared, eventually creeping out from behind Jevon; however, she still stuck by his hip, arms crossed. “Let’s just consider it a bit of… fieldwork for right now, yeah? And don’t worry— I can take care of myself just fine, so you kiddos just focus on your big battle plan. All right?”

“While I can’t say that it sits well with me, I also know that once our Ellie here has made her mind up about something, I doubt that even the end of the world itself could sway her… All right, then,” Elena flinched when Xolani closed in on her again and undertook a defensive stance; however, she softened when she felt naught but an amicable hand upon her beret, giving it a brief pat before vamoosing. “… Just don’t let that temper of yours run out of control, dear. Why, I don’t know if I’d be able to live with myself if any harm came to that cute little face of yours.” 

“Is my face all you care about?”  

“Of course not; I love you in all your entirety, Ellie. Feel free to lean on me when you need to, okay?”  

“… Sure, I’ll consider it.”  

“Well, my dears. I do believe this calls for some catching up, hm? I know we’re all as busy as bees at the moment with all of this madness going on, but we can at least spare a minute for some tea and good conversation!” Xolani proclaimed— and, like Elena, once they have decided on something, it would be easier to push a mountain. Linking all of their arms together, the siblings were lugged along by their mutual friend. A particular god, on the other hand, decided to dally— watching the departing parade with an unchanged expression. 

“… What an intriguing caravan we have here,” Antares mused as she tapped her nails against her forearm. “… A child of the stars, a famous alchemist’s protege…” 

She eyed a sapphire-shaded butterfly that was settled at the crux of a small stack of unfiled books— a soft, opalescent oscillation to its swaying wings. 

“… And one of your agents. I’ll admit… I’m curious to see how this plays out.” 

End of Chapter Four