S4:CH8

In the capital of the Kingdom of Karthus, the city of Vendeaux rose against the mountains like a crown of stone. At its highest ridge stood the royal castle, hewn from pale white rock and trimmed with deep blue banners that stirred in the cold wind. From afar it looked serene, almost holy. Within its walls, however, the air had grown heavy with whispers from the nobles inside it.

House Sitia had come in their customary greens, their ginger hair bright as autumn flame beneath the chandeliers. House Allaire sat nearby—Felinians with pale blonde hair and the soft, watchful ears of cats peeking through their brown cloaks. They spoke quietly among themselves, their golden eyes flicking about the room with careful curiosity.

Then there was House Deschenel. They wore black. No bright colors. No laughter. Only black velvet and darker looks. The other nobles kept their distance from them without quite meaning to. One did not sit too near House Deschenel if one wished for a peaceful evening.

The tension was thick enough to taste.

The final celebration of the Festival of Knowledge had gone terribly, spectacularly wrong. In the middle of the festivities, agents of the Committee of State Security—the feared intelligence arm of the Republic of Vontur—had struck like a storm from the heavens. From rooftops and hidden perches they had scattered thousands of papers into the castle grounds, each sheet inked with accusations.

Lists.

Dates.

Witness accounts.

All of them detailing the crimes of House Magrin—most damning of all, the genocide of 1570.

By some mercy, or perhaps sheer luck, the papers had fallen only within the castle district. The common folk of Vendeaux had not yet seen them.

Yet.

But the Festival of Knowledge had drawn scholars from every corner of Selyria, and scholars were not known for their silence. Ink traveled faster than horses, and rumor faster still. Sooner or later the truth—or what passed for truth—would spread beyond the palace walls.

And when it did, the realm would tremble.

At the far end of the grand hall, seated upon a throne of carved marble and silver filigree, sat Queen Aurelia Magrin. She watched the nobles whisper.

They would offer her counsel soon enough. Plans, excuses, condemnations, denials. Every lord and lady present would pretend to know how the crown ought to respond. But the truth was simpler. Aurelia already knew what must be done.

She also knew how ugly it would be.

Three storeys beneath the castle, far below the marble halls and jeweled banners, the stone turned gray and damp. Here the walls were rough brick, slick with cold moisture. Iron torches burned low, filling the corridors with the bitter scent of oil and smoke.

This was the dungeon.

Yet the smell of rot was absent. Instead there lingered only the heat of fire and the faint tang of steel.

Figures moved through the gloom—men and women cloaked in black, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods. They walked without sound, their boots whispering over the stone like shadows given flesh.

At the deepest end of the dungeon lay a broad chamber that served as the common hall of the Black Valkyrie Regiment.

Assassins.

The Queen’s knives in the dark.

At the center of the chamber, two of them knelt upon the cold floor.

Their heads were bowed. Their hands trembled ever so slightly. The faint shine beneath their masks suggested tears that had only just dried. They had been the ones assigned to guard Vendeaux during the festival.

And somehow—through carelessness, arrogance, or simple misfortune—the agents of the Committee of State Security had walked straight past them and scattered their poison across the castle grounds.

For the Black Valkyries, failure was not merely shame. Failure had a price.

And tonight, the debt was coming due.

Down went the heads of the two assassins, coming from the blade of Requiem. They had failed in preventing the CSS from entering the capital. Even if they did not mean to do so, the General of the BVR didn’t see the point in mercy, especially at a time like this.

“Let this be an example,” Requiem said, followed by a nod from Ailouros, a stare from Siren, and… a blank Kindred, who was looking at his book about Sentoran history. “Do you understand?”

“I hear you, sir,” Kindred replied, still not looking at him.

Requiem had to have restraint, this troublemaker thought that he was untouchable simply because he was close to the queen. Well, if so, Aurelia never said anything about punishing Kindred. The general walked, before being stopped by Siren.

Siren Descehenel shook her head slightly. She knew that Kindred would annoy most of the nobles in the BVR, but he also knew that it was due to his problems with authority… or rather its customs and traditions. Eitherway, it was not a good look to do something drastic. The last thing they needed was another problem to pile up with her majesty.

“I had a talk with Maria on the way here. I heard that Vontur does not have any intentions of fighting us,” Kindred said, closing his book and putting it in his satchel.

“Why so?” Requiem said.

“That’s the beauty of Democracy,” Kindred replied with a grin, standing up. “There’s a new election soon, General. With House Sitia chartering a deal with Hreinngar just recently, you have about more than 4 countries condemning Vontur. And with this revolution happening in Sentora, that might just be 5.”

“Revolutions don’t mean anything,” Requiem said, cleaning his blade before putting it in his scabbard. “Why should a lion care about the opinions of the sheep.”

“Because unlike that stupid analogy, Vontur has its sheep equipped with blades of their own. And the common folk don’t want their businesses flipped by a leaders’ recklessness,” Kindred replied, before walking away. “I’ll get more information from my men about what to do with this.”

“Where are you going?” Siren asked.

Kindred scoffed, before turning around to smirk at Siren, who started to grit her teeth at the sight of his flirtatious smile.

“Vontur,” Kindred answered.

It was a quaint bright morning for the Red Blood Regiment. They had just finished an aqueduct that could give water to 4 villages down south. This was possible due to the sudden drop of crime in the area. Kai was responsible for this, or at least, that is what the people say. As the general looked at his papers, laws, and historical accounts, they all had the same markings. They were all bookmarked by Kindred himself - back when he was still a General. It was conflicting. He understood perfectly that to fight crime properly, one must look at the root cause - poverty, inequality, lack of representation. All of these things were taught by him. But that same man also made one of the worst things that he knew. Genocide.

“General, they are here,” a voice arrived from his tent. Kai immediately hid his papers and made sure that no one saw the bookmarks. In retrospect, no person would know what these bookmarks meant, or who they came from in the first place. These were just bookmarks. Plain old red pasted paper. But, by instinct, he knew it wasn’t his. And although he knew that a lot of Kindred’s research was flawed, and was perfected by him, he could not help but feel as if this wasn’t his work.

“Thank you, Colonel Velnet,” Kai replied, before stepping out of the tent. As he got outside, the camp was a sight to behold. Wagons were pulled by mules and donkeys. Children clumsily ran on the mud, as their mothers screamed at them for their dirty clothes. Flags of the regiment were held high on the wooden garrison towers, while merchants filled the area with their packs. The menu for today - boots. Afterall, the regiment had a decrease of funds after what had happened in recent weeks. It appeared that Queen Aurelia was too busy polishing the Golden Eagle Guard while the real soldiers were in the mud. A traitorous statement - something that could get him killed if he was nearer to her. But that was what he was fighting for - a system that lets you talk ill of your leader freely.

Kai walked with Velnet, who was trying desperately to strike up a conversation. While there were indeed tents, cabins were now just being finished. After the aqueduct construction, many of the peasants volunteered to help with the camp, and it made them more willing to finish the planned constructions.

Except for his own cabin…

Kai wanted his cabin to be constructed last. His soldiers visibly loved him for it. An image was now ingrained to the people of Northwestern Vendeaux. An image of Kai sleeping in his tent, while his men slept in cabins. But Kai wasn’t an idiot. He knew the effects of this. Of course, he truly believed in the value of ensuring his men ate first, but he also knew that this would make his men respect him more. After all, the momentum of his popularity was crawling up, much to the opposite of the queen’s.

Kai then snapped out of his thoughts, before seeing Velnet’s anxious eyes. Sweat glanced at her eyebrows as she tried to look for a topic. But Selyrian was still something she struggled with, so thinking about what to say and how to say it was akin to fighting a mage and digging a trench at the same time.

“Let it out, Colonel. What is it that you want to say,” Kai said.

“Si, General, I uhh…” Velnet stammered, before looking at the paper on her satchel. “Th-these people umm… Nosot- I mean are we… sure these people are…. fit to be officers?”

“Still struggling with Selyrian eh?” Kai said with a warm smile on his lips. “You ought to study more with our liaison.”

“Sorry, general,” Velnet said.

“Debes aprender a hablar para que tus soldados puedan entenderte.” Kai replied.

Velnet grinned and almost skipped, and perhaps even let out a chuckle. “General, ¿tú hablas Sentaristas?”

“Who told you to stop speaking Selyrian?” Kai said, as he looked forward, walking along.

“Oh…” Velnet said, before stopping, gritting her teeth in embarrassment.

Kai laughed slightly as they passed by the general’s unfinished cabin. The peasants and RBR soldiers were working hard to complete it. On their left was a fenced area, with soldiers dressed not in armor, but their standard cloth uniform. These were the new officers.

“Don’t worry, Velnet. They’ll do,” Kai said with a smile to Velnet.

Kai studied each officer’s papers as they stared forward with discipline. “Angmek Hagolph,”

An avian woman with purple hair and streaks of purple wings stepped forward and saluted.

“You have a great score when it comes to general leadership, and logistical equations,” Kai said, walking up to her.

“Aye sir,” Angmek replied.

“Normally, this level of skill is reserved for officers who have done this test at least 5 times now. You also have been described by our councilors as having great instinct in leadership - another thing reserved for experienced captains,” Kai said, before folding her document and putting it in his coat pocket. “For a woman who is 21 years old, that is too odd of a coincidence.”

“I… uhh,” Angmek stuttered. The rest of the officers kept their heads forward, but slowly moved their eyes towards the lady that stepped forward. “M-my father was part of the Red Blood Regiment before, sir.”

Kai nodded. “So it says on your paper. But heritage doesn’t determine experience, young lady,” he said, before waving his hand. “You all passed to be our new corps of staff sergeants. You have your assigned squad. Velnet will guide you to your squad’s cabins. You can all go, except for Angmek.”

Angmek gulped and felt her hair stand up from her entire spine. Her wings started to get puffy as the threat from the general himself stood in front of her.

“Your father served under Kindred during the Great Orc War. I assume you were left at your house at that point. From the first months, he was in the 22nd squad assigned to Lieutenant Kitridge. If my history was right, the 22nd squad was known to have trouble getting supplies from Old Haven, to the Ogroid borderland. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, with no changes to how things were operating, the supplies simply started moving well.”

Angmek’s eyes widened. “Sir…”

“That sounds like an odd coincidence that you were missing from the latest Ravenian census during that time as well.” Kai said, looking Angmek straight in the eyes. “Yes, I did my research.”

“Sir! I was just…” Angmek struggled to find the right words, but it was useless. In an instant, she retreated, sighing. “I didn't want my father to die, sir. I thought the best way to save him was by my intellect.”

Kai smiled, before offering his hand. “That is why I am asking you to be a captain in this army,” he said, holding a confused Angmek’s hand, who had instinctively grabbed Kai to shake it. As Kai dismissed her, he went on about his path with Velnet in the newest constructed cobblestone roads of the Camp of Freedom. This was the Merchant’s avenue - a new addition for commerce in the Red Blood Regiment’s camp.

This cobblestone road wasn’t easy to build, but nor did it take months to work on, as mages from Karthus, along with help from local shifter clans made it possible to carry large stones and construct such infrastructure much faster. Taking care of the people often led to the people returning the favor. This was what Kai envisioned on what the RBR could become - influencing the people about the greatness of freedom and liberty.

Upon arriving at the gate, Kai looked to his left. A giant crocodile-like creature known as a deinosuchus was fighting a stone golem. The general sighed. He specifically told these two to guide the newbies in how to fight giant creatures, but instead, they ended up ‘sparring’...

…again.

Kai flew into the air in what seemed to be an instant. Like a flaming arrow rising and falling to its target, he landed between the two giant creatures, causing them to stop. The deinosuchus froze in place, clawing the ground slowly as it was preparing to launch itself towards the golem, preparing for another round. The stone golem in contrast, was firm, and calm. Kai knew that the stone man was the more reasonable man in this area.

“Enough,” Kai said with a voice that came from a human, but was felt by both big creatures. It had a sense of authority that no one in the camp could match. If he spoke, it was law. “Kharkstakdh, you’re the older one here. You’re supposed to be teaching, not letting a child play with you always.”

“But… time… has… passed,” The golem replied with a far slower pace than humans, raising his hand to point at the sun, almost falling to dusk. He was right, as Kai looked around him, dozens of RBR soldiers clad in armor were filled with rough scratches and minor bruises. What was a recurring sight to them was how exhausted they were. Kai nodded at the golem, before looking at the deinosuchus. He stared at it for a while, before crossing his arms, daring it to charge. For a moment, there was a sense that this creature was welcoming this challenge. It wanted to ‘play’ more, but as its eyes shifted to Kharkstakdh, it saw that the golem was shaking his head. The creature let out a powerful sigh, wind gusting out its nostrils, before transforming into a black haired man with neon amber eyes.

It was a shifter, but it wasn’t native to Selyria. He had brown skin, with hair as black as the night sky. He wore a combination of the RBR uniform, and animal skulls adorned on his shoulders.

“This sucks,” the shifter complained.

“You joined for a reason, Beryllium, not for a reward,” Kai reminded the shifter. “It’s high time you use those skills of yours for good, instead of letting your luxen lines reach your shoulders once again.”

Beryllium checked his chest. His glowing veins have crawled up to his neck again. It would take at least an entire 8 hour sleep to recover from this.

“You overdid it again. Your time could’ve been spent training the new recruits more,” Kai said, before turning around. “If I see you both not doing your responsibilities again, I will personally order a new set of roads that you both will help with. I heard that the Doshgolobi merchants need big creatures to haul their sandstones once again.”

Beryllium gulped. He did not want to do more labor work. In an instant, he jogged to his tent, preparing to sleep. Kharkstakdh meanwhile, walked to the pile of groaning RBR soldiers, and put them on a large tarp, so he could deliver them to the nearest infirmary.

- -

Kharkstackdh arrived at the infirmary, which was situated at the top of a hill, which had little to no patients, except for Vincere Magrin, who was having a fever… again. Khark had been with this former royal family member for months now, and he knew that Vincere was the type of man to explore a forest with a broken leg if it meant that it would make him not train, and instead, have fun. In Khark’s centuries of experience in battles, he knew these types of men. The difference with Vincere however, was that when the time came, he delivered. It was what made him tolerate the former noble at least. He was indeed a noble, but at the end of the day, he still turned his back on riches to serve a militia that vowed to help the people. And that was more noble than any other title the royal family could give you.

“Hey rocky!” Vincere shouted, waving his hand, eating sliced apples from a wooden plate. As he saw the piles of bodies that Khark was carrying, he gasped and stood up from his bed as if he did not have any illness. “Was the training THAT bad???”

Khark nodded, before gently laying down the soldiers as more healers arrived to help him. Vincere grinned, as he waved from below to call upon his squadmates.

“I heard that we’re going to get a new captain to lead the different squads today,” Vincere said, as his squadmates raced towards the top of the hill. “My squadmates are keeping watch. We’ve been…. testing… some of the goods that the 13th squad received from the royal government. We received this massive block of cheese last night!”

“Testing?...... you… mean…. Taste… testing…” Khak replied, causing Vincere to laugh and cough at the same time.

“Don’t tell anyone!!!” the noble said, catching his breath, as the squad finally arrived at the hill. “Come on. We’ll show you. We still have half of the cheese left, and… there’s wine!!!”

Khark nodded, before trying to walk. However, he was stopped by Vincere and his friends. “Oh we won’t go there the old fashioned way. We’ll go there MY way!”

Khark leaned a little bit back, trying to process what this noble was trying to say. But, with the smirk coming from this soldier, the golem knew that this idea was not going to sound good.

- -

Angmek arrived at the cabins that she was assigned to, It was a little bit empty. She was in charge of 4 squads - specifically the 1st 4 squads. “Reimi, Julian, Yuna, Larkin, Vincere…” she muttered the names on her list, but as she looked for the members, they were all not there. Except for an officer she was with in the line that Kai was inspecting earlier.

“Excuse me, you’re Yuna Suzuki, correct? The new staff sergeant of 2nd Squad” Angmek asked. Yuna’s squad was well kept, all fully uniformed, all sweeping their floors and cleaning their cabins. Yuna nodded, before Angmek went to the 1st Squad’s cabin, led by Relyra, as well as the 3rd Squad’s cabin, led by Larkin.

And now for the 4th Squad…

The 4th Squad’s cabin was almost dilapidated, some hints that the window had cracks, and spilled drinks were on the floor. Rags were scattered on the porch, and the door was fully open. Angmek sighed, before walking towards in.

“4th Squad! Attention!” Angmek called. No one answered.

“4th Squad!” Angmek repeated. Again. No one answered. At this point, some of the soldiers from the other cabins were now peeking from their doors and windows to see what was happening. As Angmek opened the door, she saw a fully destroyed and unorganized cabin. The beds were all scattered, and the lamps have run out of fuel for what seemed like days. There was ash on the floor - someone was dumb enough to think they could make a campfire inside a cabin to warm up.

But more importantly, someone was dumb enough to let it happen…

Angmek saw a sleeping officer. She looked at her paper and saw the name. “Staff Sergeant Volvo!” Her voice boomed inside the wooden cabin, as the officer in question woke up from his comfortable bed, only to pull a string from the attached to his neck, causing a contraption to occur, making a pot of water fall from his bed. He screamed, before laughing.

“Those damned fools!” Volvo stated, continuously laughing, before smiling at Angmek.

He reeked of alcohol, as the same with the entire cabin. Volvo smiled with his eyes not truly there. Bliss filled his face, but the moment he saw the patch on Angmek’s left shoulder, he immediately stood up, saluting with three fingers, with his eyes fully widened.

“In 20 seconds, you will be demoted from your post. Where’s your squad,” Angmek said, causing the man to close his eyes in annoyance.

“I-I don’t know,’ Volvo spoke, trembling at the captain.

“I changed my mind. You will be fired,” Angmek replied to him.

“Wait! Wait!!! Vincere is usually at the infirmary. You can find him there!!!” Volvo spoke.

“Good,” Angmek said, before turning around. She stopped by the door. “Clean this entire cabin. If you do so by the time I return, I might just report this to the general and have you come back as a private, rather than a discharge.”

“Aye ma’am!” Volvo replied, scurrying off to fight his drunkenness as he rearranged all the tools and items in the cabin.

Angmek walked outside to see the RBR squads suddenly turn around and mind their own business once they caught a glimpse of Angmek. The new captain didn’t hesitate to walk towards the infirmary. As she set her sights on the hill, there she saw what she needed to see.

“ONWARDS MY STEED!” Vincere shouted, riding on top of Kharkstakdh’s back, along with his squadmates. Kharkstakdh was laying on his stomach, as he gently pulled himself forward to let gravity slide him from the top of the hill, down to the slippery wet grass. The thrill was immense, as the squadmates shouted in cheers, wind blowing towards their face.

And soon, they stopped, right in front of the new captain.

The squad looked at the woman, then to their staff sergeant, desperately trying to brush off the stains from their cabin porch.

“You have got to be kidding me…” Vincere said, closing his eyes.

- -

Raven walked out the stables, as he was finished cleaning his horse. He had just arrived from a scouting mission, and the news was not good.

He took a piece of paper from his satchel, and read it. His handwriting was clean, and this was a perfect report. He had already sent one to his general, but he still held on to it, putting it back. He walked along the path heading to the prisoners’ quarters. To his right, he saw a bunch of RBR soldiers from the 4th squad pulling a stone golem up a hill.

“HE IS NOT A TOY!!!” Shouted Vincere, along with his squad, pulling Kharkstakdh up the hill and into the infirmary. “HE IS NOT A TOY!!!”

Angmek was sitting at the back of Kharkstakdh, observing the 4th squad, making sure that each rope was being pulled.

“HE IS NOT A TOY!!!” The 4th Squad shouted in unison, causing the Camp of Freedom to watch the scene. As the day came to a close, Angmek knew that work had to be done to this new responsibility of hers. Being a captain to these squads was not going to be easy.

Raven scoffed. Finally, someone took their time to actually take action towards these rowdy men. Vincere was competent, dependable, and even highly skilled at fighting, but his antics do get the better of him. A sturdy captain was what he needed. But scratch that - that responsibility fell to Angmek anyways.

He had his…

He arrived at the prisoners’ quarters. A man with a maroon hood was there.

“Salve, Triari,” the man said.

“Salve, imperator,” Raven replied. He then looked to the guards in the building. “Leave us.”

The guards nodded. The prisoner took off his mask. It was Kindred Osiris.

“22 Battalions. 3 archer regiments. He has 3 legions guarding the forest,” Raven said, giving Kindred the paper he was holding earlier. “I’ve already notified Kai of this.”

“Good. That’s his problem to deal with, not mine,”

Raven could not believe it. “Kindred?” he said, followed by a scoff from the BVR Commander.

“He’s capable. I trust him, even if he does not reciprocate that,” Kindred said.

“I’m sorry,” Raven said, looking back to anticipate the guards, before seeing Kindred put the paper in his pocket.

“I’ll do something about the archers. I can’t guarantee that the BVR would help, but that general of yours needs to get the GEG to help,” Kindred said, taking out his dagger to trace something on the floor.

“Why?”

“The BVR is fractured. Half of them don’t like Aurelia. The other half are pure Magrinists,”

Raven pondered what this could mean for Kindred’s faction, but as Kindred would always tell him, it was not his responsibility. All he could do now was to have faith in his former general, and his current one. “Where will you go?”

Kindred finally found the right button. In an instant, a trapdoor opened, revealing a hidden tunnel at the cell he was in. There was a sleeping PIA soldier there. “This one’s Benedicto Aurum, Centurion Captain from the 1st Legion. He said his last contact with Martius was in Doshgolobi. Chances are, the emperor himself is going to be there.”

“We’ve been trying to interrogate him for weeks. How did you do it?” Raven said, trying to look for any signs of torture on the captain, only to find none.

“You’ll learn it someday,” Kindred replied, before lifting the PIA soldier up. Kindred then took out a syringe that was attached to the Porthosian. As he closed the trapdoor, the Centurion twitched. He was still alive, and he will awake soon.

Raven went out of the prisoners’ quarters, meeting up with the guards. “Tell the general that Emperor Martius will be at the forest.”

- -

The Vonturian Senate. Normally, it would have most of its representatives present for briefings such as this, but now, almost no one attended. The CSS had a failed mission, and no politician wanted to have themselves tied to such action. And for those who did attend this briefing, no politician wanted to speak.

Nathaniel stood firm in front of the senate president. He was reading the report that the CSS successfully gathered intel from Hreinngar about documents regarding the Genocide of 1570, but several CSS rangers had died in the process. No one wanted to speak.

A door from the senate building opened, showing an angel with a white dress and white hair. This was Senator Aurora Kirov. Everyone knew him as someone who was relatively outlandish in style, but one thing was also certain about him - he had his unshakeable firm stand on things.

“Since when does our intelligence committee commit to foreign sabotage based on non-concrete evidence?” Aurora asked, walking towards the senate president’s stand, before stopping, meters away from it, just beside Nathaniel. “The last time I was deployed on such a mission, we had to make sure that things are investigatory first - not action first.”

“Senator, if I may,” Nathaniel said, but Aurora raised his hand to stop him.

“Please, we’re both military. You’d know me as Aizel, and I’d know you as Echo,” the senator said, before sitting. “But this wouldn’t change the fact that you risked the republic in a war once more. That officer of yours needs to pay for what he has done.”

“I would advise doing anything to Valheim at this p-”

Aizel stood up, his hand curling into a fist. He glared at Nathaniel, with his eyes dilating. The Secretary of Defense simply looked back with a nervous match to his eyes. He knew that if he let go of Valheim, he’d lose the committee.

Aizel was not from the CSS. He was straight from the Vonturian army. There, they had their own version of the CSS - The Vonturian Special Activities Command. They were known to have deadly operators too, provided that they were rougher, and louder. Those were rumors nonetheless, and he knew that this was not the full painting. He knew that one of these days, units such as this would be envious of the CSS budget. But who could blame Aizel? The CSS just received countless airships, and enough budget to build their own army.

“If I win this election, I assure you. There will be a reorganization of our intelligence committee,” Aizel said, almost with a growling tone. “We’re done here, Mr. Senate President. I believe that the CSS is not fit to do their job anymore.”

The sound of a gavel hitting a wooden block echoed through the senate chamber. The CSS was now about to get a thorough investigation. To Nathaniel, this was only going to be a matter of time before the committee fully shuts down. And if Aizel wins the upcoming election, that becomes definitive.

- -

CSS Officer Eloise Lemann arrived in Magrinium, Ravena. She stood at the market, and absorbed how different this was from Vontur. She was used to the feeling of dust from the mines, the busy sounds of bells and metal clanging, the monotonous gray and green buildings and colors. But now, all she could see was striking warm colors, with countless children laughing and singing. The music of lutes from the taverns graced his ears, and the smell of freshly baked cheese bread slid through his nose, pulling him closer to one of the bakeries. All the doors were open, with tarps above the doorways, with their pillars wrapped in flowers - there were so many flowers… she thought to himself. Even the people had flower crowns. As she looked above, she saw drapes of different colored cloth swinging around the houses, creating a rainbow-like design… no, like a flame of multiple colors. Ravena was as overstimulating as the sugar from their cakes.

He looked up to the roofs, and saw hooded men in black hiding from his sights.

Ah. That was the mission…

He looked down quickly and checked his pockets. There was still his trusted VAC-P2, and his sword by his side. He was wearing his greathelm, which perfectly blended with some of the mercenaries in the area. But his mission was clear - retrieve information from his asset in this kingdom.

“Hello!” shouted a man with a sword and shield, wearing the uniform of the Red Blood Regiment, and a wide brimmed hat. “I don’t seem to recognize you.”

Oh great…

“What makes you say that?” Eloise replied, her helmet looking forward, but her eyes constantly darting towards the roof, checking for any BVR assassins.

“Locals don’t often hide their faces with helmets here. You’re a long way from Hreinngar,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Samson by the way.”

He was right, only Hreinngarians prided themselves with their armor. Ravena was more open with their clothing and expression. She was so preoccupied with protecting her face, that she didn’t know that she was standing out.

“S-sorry. It’s just… I’m a little bit shy about my face, that’s all,” she said, creating a cover story. “El- Eloise.”

“Oh don’t be silly, I bet you’re pretty with that face of yours!” Samson replied, but as Eloise didn’t reply, he simply took off his hat. “Here, try this. It will hide your face a little bit, without making you stand out too much, Eloise.”

“Oh, you’re very kind, sir,” Eloise replied, suddenly realizing she had just said her name to the man. It was too late however to turn back now, and she could only take off her helmet to exchange with this hat. At least this way, there was no BVR soldier that could see her.

“Ahh, I knew it, you’re pretty!” Samson said, before bowing to her in a Ravenian fashion. “And don’t thank me. It’s what we are taught to do in the Red Blood Regiment.”

“Ah, we tend to do things differently in Hreinngar,” the CSS officer said, before smiling.

The two talked for far longer, getting to know each other further, and as night passed, Eloise was now given her new hat. Samson bid goodbye to the foreigner, not knowing Eloise’s true identity.

The Vonturian then entered a small cabin. There came a family of shifters. The father gave a small bow before passing her a paper. It read.

“Kindred was seen heading towards Vontur.”

- -