Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There isn’t a lot Amity can say about her time as Commander of the Noceda Empire. She’s protected royalty, she’s taken lives to defend the people, she’s even been forced to deny her Order just to ensure she doesn’t find herself too far gone. Part of her dreads that even now, her hope of redemption might be too late, but she knows worrying about her past misdeeds doesn’t immediately disqualify herself from atonement. All she can do is trust that whatever may or may not come is what she deserves and to work tirelessly to prove she’s not what she easily could have been three years prior.

’You could have fallen so easily before, you didn’t. You aren’t beyond atonement, but you’re still worthy of your second chance,’ she reminds herself, keeping herself externally calm as she enters her family’s personal chambers. ‘Your mother wants to speak with you. Just do what she wants and she’ll leave you be… assuming you complete what she wants of you.’

Crystal light from the chandelier above reveals maps of various Xadia territories and beyond line the walls, an endless chronicle of all the material plane has to offer. A single desk with charts and records on the Blight Family’s exploits is toward the back and across from the main entrance, an eternal position of power. There sits the familiar matriarch of the family, donned in silk robes of purple with a white midsection, a way to stand out among those she sees as inferior.

Decades of training prevent the younger elf from sitting down, understanding exactly how disrespectful such an action will be to her mother. Power or not, the woman refuses to allow for even a second of disrespect, the past lashes acting as all the proof Amity needs to obey her every word. It’s not a pleasant life in her eyes, but it’s an improvement to letting herself fall apart alongside her Order.

It’s a rare day for the Commander indeed, finding her immediate superior smiling for the first time since her daughter has entered the ranks of the Human Empire. She is given her answer why the second her mother pulls out a letter, stamped with the official seal from the human Royal Family.

”Well done. I never thought you’d reach this far,” Odalia praises, glad to see all of her children have done something meaningful. “It seems the empress herself has seen value in you which I have and have not seen thus far, so why don’t we see what your worth happens to be?”

The Paladin dares not object, nodding as the empress’s letter is opened, out dropping a single key and a Military Seal, proof of one’s rank. Neither is paid mind as the matriarch reads out exactly what the ruler of the Human Empire wishes to say about the woman who’s fought for her for three years now.

“By order of Empress Camila Noceda,

”You, Captain Amity Blight of the Gravesfield Knights, courtesy of both your excellence in combat and your loyalty to the cause for the greater good, have been deemed fit for Commander, as well as all the benefits that implies. Your swift ascension of the ranks has deemed you fit for a task few have earned the right to undertake.

”Until your need in warfare, you are to continue your training and to understand the inner workings of your rank. All the while, your primary objective is to protect the daughter of Empress Camila, Princess Luz Noceda, within the palace located within the capital city of Khelyria. For further details, you are to report to Empress Camila Noceda within one week of attaining this notice.”

“‘Benefits include an increase in payment, sufficient lodging within one week of attaining this letter,’ and so on and so forth,” Odalia mumbles, uninterested in the finer workings just yet, her eyes having lit up as she looks back up at her daughter. “I take it you understand how significant this letter truly is, yes?”

”A promotion, proof that my efforts have not been in vain,” Amity notes, understanding the immediate side effects of her promotion. “However, I understand what you wish for me to do upon arriving at the capital. You wish for me to convince the princess to take me as her potential bride-to-be, to ensure your complete control of the Human Empire.”

”Perceptive… You’re most definitely my daughter after all,” the matriarch murmurs with a nod, unable to have tricked the one Paladin she couldn’t deceive. “Of course. We both know what her kind has done to our own, therefore we should be able to regain what is rightfully ours. Your position is of great importance not only to the Blight name, but for the Elven Empire as a whole.”

”Understood, Mother,” Amity replies in a neutral tone, refusing to outwardly show her disgust.

”It’s a shame neither your brother nor sister could achieve what you have. They’re fine diplomats, but you’ve achieved an opportunity even royalty would kill for the mere opportunity of,” Odalia continues to ramble, sliding across her table the armored woman is now entitled to. “Now then, off you go. Your father will see to it that you’re sent straight for the palace.”

With a single nod and a subtle grimace, Amity leaves with her key and seal, hoping she’s prepared for whatever may come next.

If there’s one thing Amity can appreciate about humanity, it’s their dedication to their causes, both good and bad. No matter what time in history, no matter what they may strive for, all humans aim for something, and they will do anything to achieve said something. In the process, they’ve learned to harness the world’s very elements even when only a small percentage of them can truly utilize magic, all in the form of tools and machines.

Everything from self-drawn carriages to blistering factories for metals, they know exactly what they want and exactly how they wish to achieve what they want. She watches as humans of all shapes and sizes learn to accept several things about the world, including that the delicate truce between them and the elves is hanging by a thread. Amity knows part of the story, all the more reason she wonders whether it would be wise to simply stop before she ruins anymore lives. The soldier can’t help but wonder what could happen if they found out how to truly harness magic, whether it be for recreational use or to be developed into another weapon.

Right now it matters little as she and her father near the most important fortress in the entire empire. Spires topped with blue rooftops circle the structure, walls solidly made from magic-infused marble for defense in case of attack. Vantage point over balcony is located across every part of the structure, guards in all shapes and sizes making entry through an ambush or invasion outright impossible without at least some casualties for the opposing side. Only a single bridge, made from the same magic-infused marble, leads in or out of the fortress of a palace, Amity and her father being brought toward the main entrance by that same bridge.

Amity always knew the Empress would only have the finest fortress around, but not only does she feel welcome, but safe just remaining on the bridge. Guards and spellcasters all around ensure nobody except those permitted may so much as approach the front door, the sound of clicking machines just out of view ensuring security remains tight. She suspects recent attacks from a neighboring human kingdom are part of the reason why, which may further explain why she’s needed to protect the princess.

Speculation is all she has at the moment, the sound of her father clearing his throat redirecting her attention, a look of concern in his eyes leading his youngest to worry. His gear, suitable for smithing, is stained after many hours in the main forge of her home, the fact he’s seen off all his children even now proves something within him cares for his family.

“Mittens, you know you’re not required to obey your mother anymore, right?” Alador questions her daughter, exhausted after another long night of tireless smithing.

”I have nothing else to work for. The least I can do is settle in before… whatever comes next,” the Paladin murmurs, picking herself up as the carriage finally comes to a halt. “You know what I’ve done, what I’ve been forced to do just to prove my worth. Why do you choose to stay with Mom in the first place?”

The patriarch grows solemn as he shakes his head, replying, “I have little choice in the matter. I’m a coward for not having accepted the signs sooner; had I just listened to my instincts, we’d be poor but free. At least you, your brother, and your sister have a say in your fates now, to change yourselves into something that is more than a pawn. Tell me, do you want to marry the princess?”

The Paladin shakes her head, feeling a small twinge of dread just thinking about marriage. The last time she managed to take up such an offer was the day she threw away her morals, having taken years just to scrape them back up.

”Then keep within the castle walls and serve the Empress. One day you could retire or run away, at least away from elven territory, should you so choose,” Alador encourages, a small smile across his lips. “Don’t make the same mistake I made. You see the signs, the least you can do is listen to your instincts. Good luck out there, Mittens.”

The youngest Blight nods and hugs her father for what she knows may be the last time. She knows he’s right about one thing: at least whatever comes next, she’ll at least have a choice to make, and it will be her own decision.

Only then does Amity feel the need to push onward, gathering her things and entering the palace for the first time. It’s time to meet the highest authority among the humans at long last.

The halls of the palace are neither full of laughter nor filled with misery. Soldiers of all types are prepared at a moment’s notice, scholars preparing data for immediate and future use, Amity even recognizing several more notable figures among the crowds. Be they Commanders from past battles or Captains with immense success over their many years of service, it would be apparent to the elf that only the finest are able to roam about without risk of reprimand.

She doesn’t find herself being stared at or under scrutiny for her elven origins. She wonders if it’s a side effect of the Empress and Princess’s policies, but she knows they’re not destined to last without cause. Amity knows it’s only a matter of time before loopholes can be found, assuming they’re not disregarded to begin with, only to remember her own objectives.

’Right. Meet the Empress. She wishes to see me personally,’ the Paladin reminds herself, further steeling herself for what’s to come. ‘You have a mission and duties to uphold, you can sightsee later.’

The throne room doors are opened, detailing walls gentle shades of green tiles, the ceiling a light purple by contrast. Pillars of cyan granite line the pink carpet toward the throne itself, level with much of the room, a mixture of steel with violet cushions, with one blatantly inhuman occupant.

However, not only is the Empress not upon her throne, but that someone else is, another elf, a pale, aged woman. The 6’2 inhabitant’s hair is gray, almost white, and reminiscent of an owl’s plume of feathers. Her golden eyes peer in Amity’s direction, the older woman smiling, revealing a golden tooth as she gestures the Paladin forward. Amity recognizes the woman’s features along with her deep red robes and owl-tipped staff, immediately cautious of the sight to possibly the world’s greatest alchemist, elf or human.

’The Owl Lady.’

”There’s the new Commander! You’re a bit early though,” the older elf teases, enjoying watching another of her kind fearful of someone sitting upon the Empress’s throne. “Just wait a second, Cammy’s on her way, should be here in about-“

Bang

“-and there she is,” the alchemist comments, immediately standing and stepping away from the throne.

The second Amity hears the sound of shoes clicking on the floor, she kneels down, having never seen the overall ruler of the human territories before. She finds herself looking up to a single, 5’8 woman with tan skin between her late forties and early fifties, slightly plump with dark-brown, medium-length hair twisted into curls, donned in a simple dress of wool dyed the same cyan as the throne room’s pillars. In her hands she holds what Amity immediately recognizes as a magic staff of steel with a red ruby affixed to the top.

“At ease. You must be Commander Blight,” the Empress greets with what can best be described as tired excitement, adjusting her red glasses. “What a pleasure to meet you in person.”

Amity stands at attention, nodding as she replies, “And it’s an honor to meet you as well, Your Majesty.”

”Please, there’s no need to say that unless we’re in a more formal scenario,” Empress Noceda replies, her words gentle and her tone indicating rejuvenating liveliness. “There’s much to discuss when it comes to your duties of course, but I’d like to know you, Amity. Who are you? Who is Amity Blight?”

The commander can only react with visible surprise upon being asked such a question, having believed herself a faceless nobody the grand scheme of the empire. Instead, the leader of almost every human alive wants to know who both her daughter’s babysitter and her commander is to know her better, seemingly for the sake of it. She detects no malice in her tone and no hint of irony, her overarching superior at the very least seems like pleasant company, and she knows denying an answer would lead to more problems.

”…I’m the youngest daughter to nobles hoping to prove myself more than my title. There is little in my life beyond serving the empire that has given me a second chance ever since I’ve committed… misdeeds, which is part of why I’ve taken upon myself becoming a Paladin. Some may see it as a twisted game, though I’m not sure why I’ve decided to stay in your employ for years now,” Amity admits, unable to read Camila’s expression, just that she’s nodding along and listening. “In short, loyalty to your cause is absolute, though I’m still questioning whether what I’m doing is truly enough. I understand if I’m not suited toward protecting your daughter, but rest assured, …Mrs. Noceda? I’ll uphold my oath no matter what may come.”

The eldest Noceda listens intently, never flinching, never breaking her demeanor for a second. Occasionally she raises an eyebrow, but never displaying precisely what she’s thinking, though making it clear to her commander that she’s being listened to. The Owl Lady, on the other hand, seems cautious at first before expressing a hint of sorrow, whatever she was feeling having been replaced with understanding, seeing the swordswoman before her as more than just a face in a set of armor.

Once she finishes her explanation, Camila replies in an even tone, never hardening, “It sounds like you wish to atone for what you’ve done in the past, that you’re scared of admitting what you once were. You’re not ready to admit exactly what, though it’s clear your attempts at atonement are sincere, which is more than can be said about some people.”

The elf notices the word choice; “people” neither human nor elf. The fact she truly sees her soldier’s intent means much more than past crimes, which seems to have bolstered their relationship for the better to some degree.

”Assuming your words are nothing but sincere, and I’m sure they are,” the mother states encouragingly, “then you’ll have truly earned your redemption. Only your actions will determine what your intentions are, and rest assured, there’s still plenty of time to right your wrongs, whatever they may be.”

Amity feels as if a small weight has been lifted off her shoulders. It’s not enough to completely quell her guilt, but she feels more assured that she’s not a monster, having been given an opportunity to take it no less.

”Now, what about your personal interests?” the empress continues, remaining intrigued. “There’s surely something beyond acting as a soldier to you, yes?”

Several moments pass as the youngest Blight comes to a conclusion, replying in a more timid tone, “…Reading up on folktales springs to mind. Be it genuine or fiction, every story has something to them that intrigued me.”

About fifteen more minutes pass before the talk ends, concluding with Empress Camila Noceda trusting Amity, personally leading her toward her overarching assignment.

Chapter Text

There isn’t much that can be said between Amity and the Empress, though the fact she’s seen as a person capable of taking on the task at hand proves she’s made the right choice. She wonders just who the younger human may be, understanding only the finest soldiers around should be employed to protect the empire’s greatest members. What she doesn’t expect, however, is to be sent straight to the garden where a young woman sits, surrounded by spiders that neither approach nor back away.

Immediately, Amity begins to understand the reason behind her role as a protector. The human lady, about 5’6 with heels, is donned in a white-and-purple wool gown, purple for the upper half and white for the lower, holding in her hands an open jar filled with something attracting the arachnids. Her appearance resembles that of Camila, only younger and slimmer, likely only about 20 years of age, down to her brown, slightly curled hair and soft brown eyes, looking over with a mixture of surprise and glee.

The young woman immediately closes the jar, dispersing the spiders into the surrounding grass, before greeting, “Hi Mamá! Oh, is this the Commander you were talking about?”

The jar-holding human finds herself facing a woman donned in light-gray steel armor with purple trim across the breastplate and helmet, standard attire for soldiers of Captain rank or higher. What stands out, however, are the multitude of scratches and indentations from prior battles, making it clear the soldier before her has experience with many adventures and missions over the years. Only a greatsword across her back and golden eyes behind the face cover indicate the figure she speaks to is a person and not a mere construct. She doesn’t even give off a killing intent, though she refuses to speak just yet.

”Yes, this is Commander Amity Blight. I won’t be saying what happened before, that’s up to her,” the mother explains, noticing her child’s fascination grow, “but rest assured, she can be trusted. I’d recommend getting along with one another, you two will be together for quite some time, and I’m sure you two will find something to get along with.”

”Understood,” the commander nods, keeping her tone even as she gets a good look at who she would protect. “Is there anything else to keep note of, ma’am?”

”Just standard formalities and the like, such as ensuring my daughter is protected, don’t interrupt when an important meeting is in discussion within reason, and don’t let her try milk,” Camila explains with a mixture of joking tones and serious intentions. “She’s lactose intolerant.”

”Mom!” Luz grumbles, pouting slightly as she shuffles in place. “It was one time.”

A twinge of jealousy is what Amity begins to feel, watching the mother and daughter bond even now. Despite how they react toward one another, she can detect nothing but love and trust for one another, as if their status in their empire mattered little. She suspects the lack of restraint needed is all the motivation they need to let themselves embrace such feelings, recalling her own rise to glory, before shoving such feelings aside; she still has a mission to uphold, no matter her own thoughts on the matter.

”You’ll have your report by day’s end,” the green-haired elf assures her empress. “I’ll defend her with my life if need be.”

”Now that’s dedication!” the princess praises, taking a small bow before properly greeting herself. “Princess Luz Noceda, and it looks like we’re going to hang out for a while.”

Before leaving, however, Camila has only one request, whispering something into her ears, something her daughter is forbidden from hearing directly.

”This request isn’t one from Empress Noceda, but rather a mother. Consider it an optional objective with no bearing on your goals,” Camila explains in a softer tone, more so than during their talk in the throne room. “If you could, would you please try to be friends with Luz? It’s been years since she’s made friends beyond the inner circle, and I won’t be here to protect her forever. Don’t answer, just know this will not affect your primary duties.”

Only then does she take off for a meeting with the Owl Lady, though not betore giving a gentle hug to her daughter before taking off.

Amity has her orders, to simply protect the princess from anything and everything that she perceives as a threat, within reason. Even if remaining a member of the Human Empress’s inner circle, even by a small margin, doesn’t work out, it still gives her a chance to truly understand the daughter of the most politically powerful human alive, to properly grasp what she’s gotten herself into.

She expected a whiny brat of a womanchild, someone unwilling to compromise no matter what may come, a girl who would be happy to see others burn just to warm up. However, the behavior indicates the exact opposite minus the manners one would expect of someone in her position, at least in situations where it matters. She remains courteous toward all she comes across, even several visitors delivering packages, personally handing over a tip in the form of several small rare gemstones. There was no motive, no reason to show kindness toward those of lower rank, but Amity watches Luz do such anyway. She didn’t even pay attention to one’s ears or their height for confirmation of their species.

The commander, however, isn’t entirely convinced, suspecting she is merely playing an act, a role in the play of life she’s been granted. Nobody wants to work for someone who doesn’t appreciate effort into their cause, so it made sense to her if her objective was to protect another cruel girl. She doesn’t enjoy such a pessimistic idea, with the only thought that comes to mind that Luz truly is as kind as she makes herself out to be.

’Don’t be fooled by her façade. You’ve known her for less than 24 hours and you’re already making assumptions,’ she warns herself, cautious as she and the girl find themselves in the dining room, not even nearing dinner time. ‘…Right, ask her questions. Find out who she is.’

She takes a look around the dining room, a hue of forest green not matching what Amity imagined when thinking of either the Empress or the Princess. Several chandeliers and candle holders line the ceiling and right wall respectively, windows to the outside world along the left and a single window facing the garden also to the right. Dishes and cutlery for about 10 people line the table itself, contrasting about 20 chairs in all, not counting the Empress’s personal seat toward the back wall. A single framed portrait hangs above the ruler’s throne-like chair, that of a man shrouded thanks to the lighting in a valley at dusk.

“Princess, is there any activities you enjoy when there isn’t any duties to attend to?” the commander asks out of obligation, not expecting anything noteworthy. “Even the Empress has something she enjoys beyond attending to her kingdom. What is it you enjoy?”

Excitement in the younger woman’s eyes becomes apparent as she states, “Personally, reading folktales come to mind. I especially like those involving Good Sorceress Azura, a woman of unknown origin spreading blessings and making friends wherever she goes. Everything from the rise of the wicked Gildersnake to the fall of Evil Lucy and everything else between and beyond! And do you know why she did it all?”

The youngest Blight shakes her head, unsure as to why her favorite witch of myth would perform such blessings for Xadia, a hotly debated topic. Everything from fame to glory comes to mind from contrasting sources, from fallen foes to redeemed spellcasters far and wide.

”I think she did all the good she committed because she felt like it,” is all Luz concludes.

Amity takes several seconds for the joke to pass, only to notice the lack of punchline. Of all the motivations to be a hero, just helping others has never crossed her mind, having seen what even the kindhearted must do to merely survive.

”Because she felt like it?” the commander repeats, skeptical though no less intrigued. “That’s one report I’ve never heard before. Care to elaborate?”

Elaborate the tan woman does, further elaborating, “Think about it. All sorts of people over the years have chosen to be bad guys and cause all sorts of chaos because they felt like it, right? Well, why can’t someone try to do the right thing because they felt like being the good guy for the sake of it? Azura went through all sorts of crud from betrayals to wars, but she refused to become the bad guy. It’s the only conclusion I can come up with, and… well, it inspired me, not gonna lie.”

The elf has seen more than her fair share of evil, knowing precisely what one of her own and what humans are capable of. Many of them had reasons behind why they committed the crimes they took pride in, with several lacking an understandable motive, and one or two lacking a motive at all. However, not once has she heard of anyone being a hero for the sake of being a hero. Her own mother considered such an idea idiotic and her father has believes no such heroes exist or ever have existed. Yet here’s someone in a high position not only believing in such thoughts, but that they indeed existed and have partaken in more than enough to spin an entire series of epics.

”You wish to emulate what you believe the Good Sorceress to have been, don’t you, Princess?” Amity asks, trying to see if she understands the girl under her watch.

”Yep! There’s enough negativity in the world, so why shouldn’t we try to minimize or get rid of it?” she asks with a mixture of hope and misguided innocence. “Mom always says we gotta be better than the enemy. For a while I thought that meant having the better sword and shield, but what if she meant being better morally? We’re not always gonna be at war with someone, like right now.”

Commander Amity’s thoughts begin to race, pondering what she’s been told. She wants to believe Luz wants to be the kind of hero she’s seen, but she wonders if it’s only an act. She hasn’t done anything bad, but what she’s done doesn’t inherently make her a good person. There’s too much to gamble on in so little time, keeping her cautious as she nods in agreement that war won’t always persist.

”So, what do you think about folktales, or what about Good Sorceress Azura?” the princess asks with anticipation, wanting to know her protector further.

It’s then Amity recalls the mother’s request, answering with sincerity, “Folktales often take my mind off the realities of Xadia. I suppose the Good Sorceress is a good source of entertainment, proving that as loathesome as some people are, there will always be someone to fight for good people, reasons be damned.”

It’s then Luz grows more excited upon learning about their common interest, leaning over the table as she further asks, “What’s your favorite story? Do you know any magic like her? Who’s your favorite character?”

The rapid-fire questions briefly surprise Amity before she immediately takes part in the conversation, feeling herself ease up shortly before dinner arrives at long last.

Commander Blight knows she’s being selfish by accepting the role and not having tried anything further beyond protecting the princess. She likes to roam outside the palace walls, often into the garden or around others to speak with them, all without hate in her heart. No matter the errors in judgement, no matter the interaction, there has yet to be a time Amity can say Luz is evil or even malicious. Part of her wonders whether the talk from before, on top of her own dinner, has softened her to the idea of working with the human empire.

’You saw the way the Empress and Princess act. They see no reason in treating their own soldiers poorly,’ she reminds herself, listening closely in the halls. ‘For now you stay until someone dismisses you.’

Upholding her duty is the only way the commander knows how to ignore the idea that she may be wrong about her objective. She knows how the story goes from several tales with less-than-happy endings, where keeping connected in one way or another for too long or too strongly leads to disaster in the long run. Even a small connection can lead to immense disaster for one’s own goals if they’re not careful, all the more reason she’s feared connecting to Luz.

She knows she’s starting to grow fond of the girl, for once having a commonality between someone beyond sharing a workplace. Never before has anyone made her ponder her own world view or even share an interest in Good Sorceress Azura stories, but here she is in the strange board game of reality. Part of her ponders whether leaving her spot for shift change would be wise, only to spot a Lieutenant of the Khelyria Royal Guard donned in standard white and gray armor approaching.

”Commander Blight,” he greets his superior officer, coming to a halt and saluting. “A message from the Empress. You’re relieved from guarding and set for your nightly rest before training. I’ll take over from here, ma’am.”

Reminders of the schedule as the Commander Companion have warned Amity of such details. Once she’s done with training each day, both for her and lower-rank soldiers, she is to return to Princess Luz until she’s either reached the end of her shift or is dismissed by the Empress herself. 

”Let the Empress know I’ve got her message. Good luck, Lieutenant,” the commander responds, giving a brief salute before heading for her quarters.

A sense of normalcy is the only thing that brings Commander Blight unambiguous comfort, certain that any sort of schedule will make her forget about her thoughts, if only for a short while.

Chapter Text

Amity isn’t sure how or why she in particular was selected as Commander, but that doesn’t mean she’ll neglect either her own duties or training. With no Luz around to distract her, it only gives the elf more time and more opportunities to hone her skills and prevent herself from rusting away. She won’t be around to protect her or the Empire at all hours of the day, which is all the more reason she pushes her soldiers further than they’re used to, although not without an edit or two in order to maximize potential.

Everyone below the rank of Captain is immediately put to work, checkups on their physical and mental well-beings put into play, which leads to several discoveries for the commander. The delicate truce has made all weary, from the fresh meat to the battle-hardened, dreading what may or may not come in the coming future. Everyone has a reason to join the human empire, but nobody is sure what to do in a larger-scale battle. To their superior, the lot of them are disorganized and individuals in combat, strong alone but not in sync.

“Even Mom has her men uphold cooperation between her troops. What a mess,” she mumbles to herself, shaking her head as she takes to the field. ‘Might as well get started myself; they’re not the only ones in need of a refresher.’

”Okay soldiers, listen up!” she barks with a mixture of disdain and disappointment, arms crossed as everyone stands at attention. “Shame on all of you, not even able to cooperate in a life-or-death scenario! The second your enemy finds out you can’t even share a quiver of arrows, that’s it! You’ll be picked off one by one until you’re nothing more than sacks of meat in metal coffins!”

She watches everyone’s hope crumble before stopping to avoid a full shattering, immediately continuing by stating firmly, “That’s why I’ll be training you back into a fighting force! You lot have a purpose, to defend the capital city of Khelyria and everyone within, and I’m not letting any of you lose that purpose! Starting today, one hour everyday, missions where cooperation is key will become the norm!”

The purpose of such an outcome is threefold. Anyone who makes it through each session will learn the value of cooperation and trust among their ranks, and those who fail will know what needs built up. Regardless of what comes next, Amity knows she can maximize on what each soldier is best at and use such details to her advantage, immediately pondering what later sessions will entail.

”We are the knights of the Noceda Empire, and anyone who fails to uphold their oath has no place in my ranks! Uphold my regiment and I will guarantee a mere two of you will have the power of twenty men! You will fight for your people, your family, and your Empress!” Amity continues, drawing her greatsword for emphasis. “Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes Commander!”
”Yes Ma’am!”
”Understood!”

“Good,” Amity replies in a slightly gentler tone, satisfied knowing the Empress’s soldiers are loyal. “Now let’s begin.”

If there’s one thing Commander Blight can appreciate about the Khelyria Guard, it’s the fact they refuse to give up no matter what. Regardless of what their superior throws at them, regardless of how many scrapes and bruises they accumulate, they hope to prove themselves worthy of being the men the Empress deems worthy of defending their empire. However, they learn their commander’s assessments have weight to them.

When pitted against one another with training swords and dummy arrows, only one out of every twelve soldiers have proven themselves suitable in Amity’s eyes. Several have shown themselves capable warriors in their own way, but almost nobody has successfully completed an objective, be it capturing a small makeshift fortress or even dealing with a seasoned Paladin in training.

The commander herself proves to be that warrior, keeping a level head as she deals with four enemies at a time out of her weakest. She intends on indeed toughening them up, using a hollowed branch as a sword to defend and attack her own men. Each time a scrape of wood against metal sounds, she gives the striker a small “Not bad” or “Good job” to encourage them, talking down whenever someone can’t fight before they’re sent off to get patched up.

Something she doesn’t notice, however, is the peering sight of a princess and her accompanied Lieutenant from a balcony up above. Never before has she seen anyone so powerful in action, much less show mercy and pride in the work she takes part in. She witnesses how every mistake is reprimanded while anyone who’s successful is given a small dose of praise, encouragement to keep pushing onward. Those who don’t give up are given encouragement to keep going while those who refuse to fight any longer, despite the odds being against them, are reprimanded for either cowardice or having failed to even land a single strike from either arrow or training blade.

Never before has a knight intrigued her so much. The armored woman continues to fight and train with all her might, never losing focus of anyone on combat training grounds. She ensures her orders are to-the-point and leave no room for doubt, though her subordinates are hesitant to give their input, much to Princess Luz’s intrigue and Amity’s internal frustration. No amount of training will be meaningful without someone taking accountability, and if it means figuratively whipping the empire’s supposed greatest bastions into shape, so be it.

It’s then the youngest Noceda observes her personal guard’s behavior in combat. She doesn’t let her fury take over, she refuses to deny others a say in matters, she even keeps watch, all while her helmet conceals what she’s thinking. Luz sees a calm, collected leader on the grounds, verbally bashing incompetence while ensuring successes are given attention, encouragement to do better. The tan woman can’t help but notice a sense of odd peace with being where she is, further proof that whatever happened prior to her arrival, the commander has had more than her fair share of battles.

All it does is make her more intrigued. She wishes to know more about the woman beneath the armor, to find out just who she is. All she knows is that she’s an elf, but beyond such a trait, not even her beliefs on the matter of being her babysitter, for a lack of a better term, comes to mind.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

It isn’t long before shift change arrives, and with it Amity leaves the grounds with parting words, stating, “We have a lot of work to do. You lot are doing poorly compared to others, but at least you’re trying, which is more than I can say about some soldiers I’ve seen in my time! I expect conviction by tomorrow when we meet up once more, understood?”

Salutes and exclamations of agreement are given, thus ending the spars and the commander is meant to return to the princess’s side.

Something the commander knows she’ll come to enjoy is the physical toiling she’ll get to avoid during her time watching over Princess Luz. The human is ultimately harmless, refuses to intentionally cause chaos for anyone around her, she even has theories on folktales. Perhaps it’s selfish to embrace such advantages, yet circumstances seem to be in her favor for the time being.

These thoughts were quashed upon spotting Luz holding in her hands a wooden training sword and wooden shield, entranced by what she’s seen.

”You were great out there!” she exclaims in an awestruck voice, unable to forget what her protector has done. “That wasn’t even your best work and you still showed them what a real commander can do!”

”It’s standard protocol from my early years, Princess,” Commander Blight denies in a deadpan voice, seeing nothing glamorous about simply completing her job. “Your mother wants only the finest warriors within the castle borders. The least I can do is ensure I’m upholding such a standard.”

Such words do nothing to discourage the youngest Noceda, waving the slab of wood in her hand with fascination, immediately giving Amity the context she needs for what she’s about to be asked.

”Can you teach me please?” the brunette pleads, eagerness and intrigue impossible to suppress or deny.

The armor-clad soldier immediately states, “Absolutely not. My goal is to prevent you from getting into any sort of harm or danger, be it minor or major; it’s my duty as Commander, given by Empress Noceda herself. The last thing I’ll do is throw you to the wolves over a childish fantasy over swordsmanship, no matter how mundane.”

Luz’s hopes in being trained are quickly dashed, the tip of the sword and bottom of the shield tapping the ground. Amity knows she may have seemed harsh, but the last thing she wishes is for her primary objective to be wounded all because of a request that wasn’t even her own. She knows the potential consequences for even considering such a thing.

The princess’s hopes are reinvigorated just as quickly as they’ve been dashed, holding up the shield before raising her training weapon. An almost otter-like smile creeps across her face, immediately warning the elf that her day is about to become all the more frustrating.

”Well… wouldn’t it be wise to make sure I’m safe even when you’re not around?” she questions in an almost teasing tone. “Even just one hour a day making sure I can hold up a sword and hold it right would make Mamá proud, don’t you think?”

Commander Blight stops herself from barking out reasons against such nonsense, only to pause and ponder her words. She witnessed possibly the most dangerous woman with a sword beat down her own soldiers for the sake of training, meaning there’s cause behind finding such safety in being trained. On one hand, if she acquiesces to her potentially harmful request, she could be seen as a traitor to the Empress herself, possibly imprisoned and stripped of any standing she once had; nobody would win in such a scenario. On the other, ensuring the one person she’s meant to protect stays safe through any means necessary may lead to long-term solutions. Whether the training would be appropriate, however, is a discussion the soldier will need with the Empress just in case she risks crossing boundaries.

’She’s right. I won’t be able to keep her safe all the time,’ she reminds herself, exhaling slowly as she looks back into the brown-eyed human’s eyes. ‘The Empress is a firm but fair woman, so perhaps if I informed her soon, I could minimize the fallout. Indirect protection… does such a concept even exist?’

“…I’ll consider it for tomorrow, assuming the Empress deems such training suitable,” Amity admits with intrigue, a hint of glee in the girl’s eyes. “Do not mistake this for confirmation, Princess. I’d hate to see your mother’s most precious gem scratched or cracked.”

”Aw, you care about me!” Luz teases with glee, setting her equipment aside to reach up and pat Commander Blight’s shoulder. “I knew there was a heart in that chest of yours!”

The youngest Blight feels her cheeks warm up from the comment, forcing herself to remain still lest she act out of turn. She forces herself to admit she isn’t attracted to Luz, keeping herself steady as she nods, choosing to play along if only the human before her stays safe.

The princess is immediately distracted by another idea, the thought of combat pushed back as she asks, “So, any other folktales you know of? Don’t get me wrong, the Good Sorceress Azura stories will always be my favorites, but they’re not the only ones; there’s whole sagas out there!”

’Finally, something I can work with.’

”…Otabin Tales, largely thanks to hints of envy,” Amity admits, taking a seat across from the princess in a secluded room. “I’ve always known there’s more to life than my duties, and seeing someone’s very duty is defending those they care about? It makes one think after enough time has passed, and elves have more than enough time to think.”

Luz can detect the sorrow heavily guarded, pondering just what life beyond the palace walls was like for Amity. She doesn’t even know what her hometown is like, much less her prior duties, and here she is admitting she’s had thoughts beyond being a soldier. Fortunately for her, there just might be a solution toward both causes.

”So… wanna make Otabin Tales a reality for yourself?” she suggests in a lighter, gentler tone. “Mom still has a commander keeping me safe, you have a friend to defend while keeping true to your objective! Nobody loses!”

The commander takes a moment to consider such a suggestion, surprised such an offer could be made without a second thought. Her eyes and ears try to detect any sort of insincerity be it a subtle or obvious hint, only for none to spring forward. Luz is being serious about wanting to become friends with her protector, the offer more than just a treat for compliance.

”…I’ll consider your offer, Princess,” she admits, her once-firm tone having wavered.

”So does that mean we can practice sword training!”

”Not without approval.”

”Aw.”

“…and that is my report.”

Commander Blight keeps at attention as she speaks to the Empress, refusing to allow herself to relax until the matter has been resolved. The sooner she has Luz’s swordsmanship training denied, the sooner she can-

“What a fantastic idea!” the mother chimes, a smile across her face. “To think I’ve neglected skills beyond etiquette all this time.”

It takes Amity several seconds to process what she was just confirmed, immediately clarifying, “I’m… sorry, I don’t think I understood you the first time, Empress. It almost sounded like you said that me, a Commander, swinging a wooden sword at your own daughter for the sake of training was a good idea.”

”Now, what did I say about calling me by any of those titles?” Empress Camila scolds lightly, still chipper after the report. “But yes, you heard me correctly. A separate form of training has lacked a…motivation, and ensuring her safety, all while potentially becoming a friend? Yes, I approve! Just wait until Lilith brings the decree, just in case anyone has any objections. Speaking of Lilith, where could she be?”

Amity can’t believe she’s failed to prevent potential harm, all because of a report. It’s dumb luck that training her means there won’t be risk of being sent back home, assuming she’s allowed home, but the plan was to prevent training from being permitted. She can’t help but notice how similarly enthusiastic both Luz and the Empress are to having swordsmanship become apart of one’s day.

’They really are mother and daughter,’ she muses internally, only to halt herself. ‘No, that’s bad! You know what you’re about to do and you’re just gawking! Object, give a reason against training, something!’

She finally musters up the will to speak up, insisting, “With all due respect… Camila, there are simply too many risks with personally training your daughter. What will the public think, seeing the princess herself coated in wounds? Your men, while untrained, still have the might to stand after a branch is swung their way. I’d hate to wound Princess Luz, with or without reason, even while training.”

”No need to worry about such a thing. I’ll be observing for several days to ensure nothing goes awry; should everything go accordingly, you’ll have nothing to fear, be it from me or one of your peers,” the mother confirms, her joy turning to mild concern. “However, yes, injuries during combat training aren’t to be unexpected. Perhaps several mild healing potions could remedy such a situation.”

She also brings up other potential nobles. Regardless of how she or her daughter thinks, there will always be someone who sees them as lesser for personally getting dirty, be it figuratively or literally. Reputations could fall in an instant for even the mildest difference in either action or attitude, something she’s personally been taught. What she doesn’t like is the Empress’s reaction to such fears.

Rather than rage or acting shocked, Empress Noceda sets her staff aside and shakes her head with a small laugh, replying, “I’m sorry, how rude of me. To ease your worries, just know I have no need to think about such lesser ideals. Both elven and human cities, countries, and even alliances will have a variety of different thought processes and beliefs. It will be impossible to appease every last man, woman, and child in the world, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ease the worries of the majority.”

The commander wishes to object to such beliefs, but the wording makes it clear such thoughts come from experience rather than mere belief. There are indeed far fewer nobles than those of lesser standing, and as such, appealing to the majority has done the Empress well, netting her multiple powerful allies and control over almost the entirety of the human half of Xadia. The outcome for maintaining her stance speaks for itself. All she can do is nod, seeing the point in not caring however many nobles come figuratively puffing smoke.

Amity knows not what she’s gotten herself into, just that within 48 hours, plans have to be changed for the time being, just hoping her family doesn’t get the wrong idea.

Chapter Text

Many things irritate Marshal Lilith, from Hard Apple Blood to a misuse of magic to even some of the human empire’s machines. Even so, she still sees the purpose of it all, the alcoholic drink for enjoyment, the magic misuse leading to potential innovations, and even the machines allow her soldiers to face their opponents without the need for spells. It makes sense, and permitting it all gives her a chance to protect her family and friends in the Empress’s territory.

What she doesn’t understand, however, is entrusting Captain Blight a promotion to Commander status. It took the elder Clawthorne Sister a decade just to reach the rank of Captain, and yet Amity has reached such a position in less than five.

’Admittedly she’s maintained a far greater success rate than most prior Captains. Most of these battles would’ve resulted in a net loss for anyone less fortunate,’ she notes to herself, unwilling to disregard the truth laid before her. ‘Even so, that family name…’

She recalls the rise of Odalia Blight, how that woman has been a thorn in countless regions’ sides for centuries as of now. Any attempts to dissuade her from attempting to expand have been met with either hostility or defiance, netting her neither victories nor detrimental losses. The memories of Amity’s birth ring true, recalling how the girl was treated more as a weapon than as a proper member of nobility. The Marshal isn’t even sure if the child was truly loved, knowing that if she truly was, there was no hint to the contrary from what she could tell; Emira and Edric can attest to such theories as far as she’s concerned.

’…No, she’s not her mother. Trust her, at least for now,’ she reminds herself, not wanting to disregard three years of servitude without incident. ‘She’s different, showing no signs beyond the hair. Wait to be sure; there’s no point in accusations without proof.’

The Clawthorne Sister sets aside the scrolls of information and gets back to work, hoping her hunch is wrong.

The palace’s training fields are wide and open, allowing for any sort of scenario, albeit kept up to code so almost any event or scenario could take place. Equipment is kept near the entrance back into the palace and returned upon training being complete, with small chests designed for each soldier to hide their belongings within for the duration of their upkeep. A gate of tungsten-infused iron toward the outside world, walls of magic-resistant marble, the same as the palace, set up in the case of a session going horribly wrong. Marks and nicks across them confirm at least one such incident has occurred, making their usage less-than-unreasonable.

Training the Khelyria Guard has done small wonders. Several soldiers have already become greater than before, finally learning to fight with one another rather than swing blindly, but there’s still many who have failed to do much despite their greatest efforts. Only two cooperative tasks have been completed, though the fact they’ve landed several blows on her armor proves training and morale have been a net positive toward the knights. Even the lieutenants have been leading by example, having issued their men to work in teams of two or more, though the pairings have lead to too many archers or too many swordsmen being in the wrong situation. An improvement is an improvement nonetheless, however, meaning there’s still room to improve and strengthen the empire’s forces.

’Don’t give too much praise yet, you’ve only trained them twice. Wait a few weeks to truly judge their results,’ the commander reminds herself, keeping herself grounded in reality. ‘You’re not Mom, you dictate how things go. You want to prove your worth? Give them more than 24 hours to become juggernauts.’

Her thoughts turn back to the machines she saw on her way to the palace. Very few appeared ever since she appeared, at most transport and artillery for larger enemy forces, standard equivalents found even within her family’s territory. She can understand training the knights and archers, always needing something or someone to ensure they can survive without their precious metal creations, only to wonder if the elves and high-rankers are why the machines aren’t as necessary as she once believed.

’Maybe I’m missing something from a first glance,’ she ponders, her mind and body clear, prepared for training the princess. ‘…I can ask her, she did say I can be friends with her. She must know something.’

Before too long, Luz arrives in lightweight chainmail armor, both upper and lower halves, suitable for training with blades, an almost rusty iron to contrast most soldiers’ standard-issue steelplate. Her heeled shoes are replaced with simple combat boots, albeit still shined to show care in her attire no matter what she wears, the girl with a wooden sword and shield. She seems more excited than Amity has seen her ever before, prepared for training to begin.

”I can’t say this will be perfect material, but at least it’s suitable for intensive training,” Amity praises, only for her tone to grow cold. “Don’t let such compliments go to your head though, combat is a life-or-death situation. Assuming you refuse to kill anyone whatsoever, you still need to ensure you’re capable of defending yourself by any means necessary. Elves and humans alike, be they soldiers, assassins, or even political opponents, will want to see you dead and will use any methods at their disposal to see you perish!”

As she speaks, pacing two steps forward before turning back around, she can’t help but notice Luz hasn’t mentioned excitement about such scenarios, only nodding and listening carefully. She doesn’t dare suggest otherwise, suggesting to her that to some degree she sees how dangerous the world truly is, even if she’s yet to show how much, which should hopefully make things easier depending on her cooperation. For now, the first step commences.

”Be sincere with me, what little training have you captured over the years?” Commander Blight questions, her golden eyes peering into the princess’s. “It matters not if it’s significant or minor, any level of understanding means you’ve got what it takes to hold a sword.”

”I’ve only held branches and training swords, but I think I have the stance down,” she explains as she positions herself, keeping her shield toward the front and the training blade at the ready. “I think you keep your legs firm to avoid tripping up, but aside from that, I haven’t really gotten how to fight.”

A careful examination of the human’s stance shows Luz’s stance is largely stable, save for a slight positioning issue with how her feet are angled. A slight nudge in the right direction corrects this issue, and immediately the Empress’s most prized jewel appears as if she’s a trained combatant already, though with no clear efficiency in actually using a sword.

”It seems you’ve understood some basics, but let’s see what you can do,” the elf insists, taking a step back before drawing a training sword of her own. “Go ahead, don’t hold back. The sooner you fight, the sooner I can maximize your potential. We begin the second you strike, princess.”

Luz takes a moment to muster up the courage to strike, charging forward before swinging wide and slow, allowing for the commander to block the attack without issue. The concealed woman doesn’t stop herself from countering, swinging in a short arc toward the smaller woman’s side, who frantically blocks the attack with her shield. The scraping of wood on wood sounds throughout the field, the princess shaken from the force of the blow, which gives her teacher the opening she needs to strike her once more. A swing to her chest brings her down, Amity keeping the blade drawn and to her face, never swinging downward but never keeping her eyes off her opponent. She lasted two attacks, which is better than one but not good enough to class her as secure.

’I actually did it. I shoved Princess Luz Noceda to the ground,’ the towering elf can’t help but murmur internally with dread. ‘The second Mom learns about this, I’m finished! Hopefully she understands there’s more to the situation than just that, I was instructed that what I’d be doing would be within regulation. I have the decree with me… Yes, this shouldn’t be the end of me just yet.’

The empress’s daughter can’t help but look up with an excited blush, standing back up the second she’s able before chiming in, “That was great! How did you do that?!’

”You’ve lost your stance, leaving you vulnerable to multiple swift strikes should I have chosen to take such an opening. It appears you lack proper training against stronger opponents, though you’re capable of defending against at least one blow, which I can hardly say about several… injured opponents,” Amity notes with a mixture of criticism and praise, refusing to discourage the younger woman’s dreams. “You at least kept your eyes on me at all times, meaning you took defending yourself seriously to some degree. Further intensive training will be required to put you on par with the other knights, and you’ve understood how they fight to a small degree, something several recruits lack entirely.”

Luz understands, dusting off her backside before immediately getting back into her stance, this time without any immediate faults.

”Very good. It should require plenty of force for even I to break your defense. Keep that shield raised and look for an opening, even if it doesn’t become obvious at first glance,” she instructs, keeping her own non-shield stance strong and unwavering. “You’re not a mountain, but you must be able to defend yourself even if you can’t attack. Whatever you do, don’t let me bring you down, no matter what. Even if it stings, you should grow stronger with every battle.”

To emphasize her point, the commander steps closer slowly, keeping her eyes on her target as she swings with restrained force, aiming high, only for the shield to block her. Such a strike does nearly nothing to break Luz from her hold, grunting as she pushes back before striking low, grazing Amity’s knee, a weakpoint. Only the armor prevents the blow from doing anything meaningful, combined with the princess’s lack of apparent upper body strength.

“Aiming where you know the attack will be meaningful. A useful skill in the heat of combat,” the elf praises in a monotone voice, impressed she chose a pragmatic approach. “Don’t let it get to your head, it usually takes more than one strike to down your foe.”

She immediately counters with a new blow, this time aiming for Luz’s hands, giving no mercy as she strikes against the shield once more. Prepared for what her impromptu student will do, she blocks her next attack aiming for her knees, immediately retaliating with a firm blow to her stomach, pushing her back before she lands to the ground. The adrenaline of combat has briefly vanished, something the youngest Blight realizes has never occurred before, at least to her knowledge.

’…It’s just your duty. You’re showing yourself restraint because she’s not strong enough yet,’ she insists to herself, swinging once more, the princess’s shield only half as effective as before. ‘Train her and you’ll never have to dread repercussions in this regard again. Just keep her safe for now.’

The girl quickly gets back into stance, noticing how the commander is careful never to use too much force no matter what. She suspects this may be what it’s like to be one of her soldiers, both grateful and concerned for such behavior. The towering Paladin never lets out her true strength.

”A… Commander?” she asks loudly, catching her teacher’s attention. “Are you scared of hurting me?”

Amity keeps her tone level, shaking her head before stating, “The stronger you become, the more force I will use in your training sessions. Consider it a level of progression, to ensure I’m not straining you too much too quickly. It’s why I’m starting with the basics for you, just as I would any other soldier, although…”

Without a clear answer, Luz believes it’s because she’s the princess, which only agitates her. She can understand not wanting to cause needless harm, but protection, training weapons, and healing potions at the ready are to prevent severe or needless wounds. What she can’t shake, however, is the subtle hint of hesitance.

”…Let’s sit down,” the taller figure insists, taking a breath as she sheathes the dull wooden blade.

The two sit beside one another, overlooking the field. Despite the purpose of the training grounds to be preparing for battles and wars, a subtle tranquility remains, the grass a luscious green and the occasional bird briefly perching atop a stone fragment. It reminds both women that at the end of the day, the good is most likely to prevail at one point or another. The morning sun glistens as its rays of light collide with the stained glass windows above, no doubt bathing the inside with an abundance of colored lights.

”…You’re right, I’m hesitant to go too far,” Commander Blight admits, refusing to lie and cause unnecessary strife. “It doesn’t matter how long or how intensely you train, I can’t shake off the dread. I find it childish of me, fearing wounding someone I’ve known for less than a full 48 hours, and yet…”

Luz can only imagine what it’s like forcing oneself to refrain from going all out for the sake of others, Amity seeing no other way in informing her of such a fear. It makes sense upholding a level of progression, but even with the safety measures there’s always a risk of a mishap.

Amity, meanwhile, can’t help but wonder why she’s acting the way she is. By all accounts she should be in absolute control for the first time in her life. Her own father has given her clearance to take her own fate into her own hands, to determine what to do next, and here she is rambling about how she’s dreading hurting the one woman who’s dared ask a thing about her. The one who’s at risk is concerned about her, leaving her confused and uncertain for what must happen next. The more she thinks about it, the less logic to her plight there seems to be, and the more she tries to rationalize it, the closer she feels toward lashing out against the nearest thing to her.

”You… know you can say anything to me, right?” the princess asks softly, noticing the silence. “That’s what friends do, right? They talk to each other? You don’t have to be scared of letting it out, and if anyone says otherwise, I can just ask Mamá to throw them in a dungeon!”

The desire to abuse her power to ensure her safety does being a small smile to the elf’s face, hidden by her helmet. She can’t help but nod, understanding her sentiment before taking a deep breath, briefly slumping before letting out her woes.

”I’ve been meaning to redeem myself for a long time. For the first time in my life, I have a choice that doesn’t involve hurting anyone again, either protecting you or… doing something I’ll likely regret,” Amity explains, careful in her word choice. “The Empress has faith in me, you have faith in me, even the soldiers hold me in high regard, all in less than a day of meeting me. It feels wrong, hoping to live up to the reputation I’ve gained, but when I’m around you?”

Forced to confront her thoughts has become a whirlwind within her mind, her consciousness trying to select the right words to describe how she feels. She wouldn’t say she’s in love, not by a long shot, but actually getting to be with the princess as more than just Captain/Commander Blight makes her feel strange in a good way. She feels less like a soldier and more like another person; someone of high status given her privileges and position otherwise, but definitely a person nonetheless.

Commander Blight points to her objective’s chest, right where her heart would be, before stating, “It feels right, remaining by your side. I’m not just a soldier. You haven’t even demanded I partake in anything unsavory, hoping to help me. I know it sounds like something straight from the Azura folktales, but I’m unsure how else to describe it all.”

Luz listens intently, in awe how someone so powerful could be so willing to open up. She’s only had three people in her life do the same, and each time it gives her an idea just why she’s come to see them as her closest companions. Now Amity is much of the same, more than just her protector, now also a friend in her eyes as she scoots closer, wanting to show her friend she’s not alone. She doesn’t demand they continue with training, watching as her friend’s tension diminishes by the second after finally letting it all out, only speaking once she’s sure the elf has eased up.

”Feeling better?” she inquires, noticing her briefly slump with far less force, more relaxed than anything.

”…Yes, oddly enough,” the commander admits, her tone softer than before. “Thank you for listening… Luz.”

”It’s what friends do.”

Chapter Text

About three have passed since Commander Blight has been tasked with figuratively whipping the soldiers of Khelyria back into shape, and the results are akin to night and day. Standing tall and proud, more than 200 men and women salute their superior officer, their armor shining in the sun’s light as she looks over the lot, satisfied with what she’s come across. Training for the day has concluded, and with it the final announcement for this battalion comes at last.

”Knights of Khelyria, when I first met you, I saw little more than sacks of meat coated with metal! You were strong, but you were disorganized, unable to cooperate or even follow the most basic routines without getting in one another’s way! Some of you relied on machines to do most of your heavy work, leaving you confused on how to even fight!” she states loudly for all to hear, noticing several shiver but never backing down, her tone growing more optimistic. “Those men I’ve met have been butchered and buried over the past few weeks, and I couldn’t be more proud. Every last one of you understands how to fight as a team, as a unit, rather than just individuals! It takes a special army to become the greatest army in the Noceda Empire, and I’m proud to say you’ve truly become apart of the Khelyria Royal Guard at long last!”

The commander can see the glee in everyone’s eyes, proud to know their training has come far enough to be considered satisfactory. Before they swung wildly, now they can truly stagger their teacher with the right strike and angle. Archers finally have the chance to truly aid their allies, dealing with further-ranged targets to support short-ranged soldiers. Even cannoneers at last have their positions clear, prepared to confront the average beast or contraption that dares approach the palace. No more are they scared citizens strapped in steel, but rather proper soldiers, with their identities intact no less. It’s time to prove their worth in action, and with it goodbye to basic training and hello to the more advanced tactics.

”You’ll be assigned to tasks once this regiment has officially ended, and from there your pay will increase and your next level of training shall begin! Your responsibilities have grown, because you have proven yourselves worthy of such raises. Don’t mistake this for a chance to go lax on your training now!“ she reminds them, her smile from beneath her helmet unable to be shaken off. “Farewell for now, Knights of Khelyria. Dismissed!”

With a salute, all involved return to their positions, Amity taking the chance to get some fresh water before she begins training Luz, several of the former trainees taking the chance to refresh themselves before their next task. It’s been a long time since she’s felt so fulfilled, finally feeling as if she’s made a difference in others’ lives for the better. Part of her knows it likely won’t be enough to fully atone, though starting somewhere is better than not starting at all, and an elf’s “lifespan” only means there’s more than enough opportunities to continue doing what’s right.

Several knights can’t help but notice how the Commander refuses to turn to anyone as she drinks, actively raising a training shield to conceal herself. It’s doubted that even the Empress or the Princess have seen her face yet, which only leads several to speculate as to why. After everything she’s done for them, raising them into legitimately dangerous combatants suited for battle, only the least trusting speculate that a dark secret ties into her concealment.

It’s only then she realizes that by continuing down this route, she betrays Odalia, gulping down what must be her fifth mug’s worth of refreshing liquid. She’ll likely be expecting a report on her task at hand at any moment, assuming she’s not been considered a lost cause, though the dread doesn’t feel as great as it did before. Maintaining what is meant to be a role in her scheme feels wrong, but breaking free from it doesn’t seem right either.

’…Right, I still have to choose,’ she admits to herself, recalling her father’s words. ‘Damnit, Blight! You’re… No, you need a clear head. You have a few minutes before Luz arrives, your… friend.’

Never has such a thought felt comforting to the towering elf. Not only does she treat her as an equal, if not a superior, when the roles would logically be reversed in many people’s eyes, she refuses to let their friendship wither away. She listens and is listened too, thus Commander Blight is granted such blessings as well. An exchange built off nothing but trust and not a single gold coin to be found, the youngest Blight can’t help but feel warm thinking about her, more so than usual.

As she hears the doorway open and a familiar armed princess approaches, Amity knows exactly what her choice is, only hoping it’s the correct one.

Ever since she’s begun training, Princess Luz has realized that there’s more to Commander Blight than meets the eye. Every single day that passes gives her more time and more chances to see who she is and why she’s done what she’s done. What she sees is someone wanting to prove she’s not a monster but is unsure if describing her sins would be the wisest decision, only certain that admitting to them will grant her the courage to move forward. However, she’s smart enough to understand trying to force answers out of her will only damage the first friendship she’s made in years, possibly permanently. For now, all she can do is wait until Amity is comfortable speaking of them.

The thought is pushed to the back of her mind as training continues, unable to deny the results of weeks of at least one hour of strenuous swordsmanship. Her muscles have begun to form to a more meaningful extent, allowing her to withstand further strikes than she would’ve taken before, her swings along Amity’s armor akin to a sturdy mallet to a gong. Stamina provides the human with more energy to strike back and withstand blows without tiring too quickly, for once managing to keep in line with her teacher. Even the grip along her sword has tightened, ensuring it doesn’t fly into a nearby window again. Several scrapes and bruises have formed, ignored thanks to familiarity with the sting, proof that she’s still alive after the almost merciless training, panting as the hour nears its end.

”You keep your stance strong, you refuse to allow your body to give into rest, and even your grip has been tightened. You would’ve made for a lesser soldier, which would’ve taken a minimum of two months of conditioning to even stand among peers,” Amity praises, keeping her focus on her target, refusing to give an inch without risking losing a mile. “You’ve done well so far for someone to train in so little time, but you’re not considered an elite soldier in my eyes. You lack the energy to last throughout a full battle, which can take between hours and months, depending on severity, surroundings, importance…”

”Not an elite soldier in your eyes yet!” Luz retorts with a more confident smirk. “You said it yourself, I’ve come this far in far less time, so it shouldn’t be that much longer until I get the hang of things. It helps that I’ve got a great friend for a teacher.”

The flattery is not enough to halt the coming strikes, though a small gasp of surprise makes it clear the words weren’t meaningless. A swing from above from the commander is blocked by her student’s shield, who immediately pushes back before stabbing forward toward her chest. The blow is swiftly blocked with a downward slash, leaving Luz vulnerable to another strike to her side, sending her tumbling to the ground with a slight groan before immediately climbing back up. Neither student nor teacher is willing to fall just yet, the princess rushing forward to aim for her knees, for once slightly staggering the elf, but only for a second. The second is all that’s needed for the wooden blade to collide with her own side for once, the sound of wood cracking making it clear the youngest Noceda has used up the last of her energy. A distant bell’s ringing signifies the hour’s change, putting an end to practice once more.

”I think that’s enough for today,” she states in a softer tone, refusing to overwork the Empress’s daughter without cause, grabbing a water barrel. “You’ve managed to keep standing this time, and some say royalty can’t even hold a sword, let alone swing one. Nicely done, Luz.”

The praise is more than enough to make Luz feel warm around the cheeks, the blush impossible for Amity to deny. She never thought someone surrounded by those who love her would lead her to become so vulnerable, watching her squirm from the praise as she tries to loosen her armor now that training has finished. She drinks up two full mugs of water, parched after such strenuous work, the simple praise somehow more than enough to leave her squirming for more.

’What happened to me?!’ the princess asks herself, feeling the cool liquid leave her refreshed. ‘Amity just gave you a compliment for going this far despite how little time it took! Just accept you did well in her eyes and move on, there’s nothing more to it than that! She’s just a friend, got it?’

The reminders that she’s only friends with her protector do little to calm her thoughts. Amity has always kept her helmet on, concealing everything but her golden eyes, with not even her mother having a clear idea what she looks like; she needs a good read just to have an idea what she might be thinking. By contrast, the human’s lack of a face covering leaves her feelings about the compliment blatant for all to see, making hiding her true thoughts on certain subjects outright impossible. Her emotions are laid bare for all in the vicinity to see.

”…Is something troubling you, Princess?” the commander murmurs softly, using her own compliments against her. “I only said that despite your brief training and lack of overarching proficiency, you’ve already become a fairly competent fighter in your own right.”

The compliment leads to another blush, the human starting to stutter as she tries to compose herself. She knows she was the one to implicitly leave her friend speechless, but now that her own action is being used against her, the royal now understands how it feels to receive such praise. She rushes toward the changing room, taking careful measures not to let herself be seen around others lest they find out about her embarrassment.

All the while, her watcher remains nearby, ensuring no harm comes to her flustered friend, smiling beneath her helmet, having never had so much fun in years.

“…Luz, I’ve been wondering,” Amity notes in a more tender tone, noticing how lacking in metal the palace is. “Where are your machines? I’ve seen several beyond the bridge, though almost none of any sort have emerged ever since.”

Her favorite human thus far can’t help but grin, a thought coming to mind as she replies, “They’re in the workshops toward the lower levels, mostly to test how they work and stuff like that. Wanna see them? You do have clearance to go down there, being a Commander and all that.”

Commander Blight suspects not being told earlier due to not needing within the bays thanks to simply not being needed. It would make sense, having been issued to strengthen Khelyria’s soldiers rather than simply patrolling or taking up other matters. She can’t help but nod, however, wondering just where the many knights will work once a battle is set to commence in the future.

The Princess and her Commander stand before one of the main workshops for machines, designed for a variety of purposes, not only combat. Within one of them resides one of the metal carriages Amity has seen on her way to the palace, a self-drawn carriage in the colors of the Empress, largely white with blue highlights across the top. A tungsten, gold-colored highlight and detailing spreads across, emphasizing the significance of the carriage, the front extended out to allow for room, specifically a gem-powered “engine”.

Amity sees little point for some of these invention, only aware her own horse has been transported several days prior, but that doesn’t mean humans lack a use for them. She sees their potential, allowing for faster travel with fewer issues, the windows allowing for a concise view all while the operator focuses on getting either the Empress, Princess, or both between locations safely. She just hopes that whatever the use, they don’t damage the ecosystems of their own territory without cause, or however they produce such trinkets.

”It’s pretty odd if you ask me, having all this metal lying around and not doing anything with them. Humans knew they needed to keep up, and with magically-inclined humans being so rare, they needed something that could catch up with their elven neighbors,” Luz rattles on, curious about magic but not against the metal contraptions. “That’s why machines were invented, to ensure the Noceda Empire doesn’t fall. Mom doesn’t like it when someone takes one of these unless it’s unarmed though.”

”I take it because she wishes to avoid another war?” Commander Blight asks, indeed intrigued by what she’s seeing around her. “I can see why your empire would wish to prepare for anything coming their way.”

”Yeah. Not actively being a threat makes it less likely for others, human or elf, to want to take over or cause any trouble for anyone else,” the princess explains, noticing several carting metal and crystals for another device. “Constantly inventing new things makes easy to prosper and spread though, like with farming and copying books, so they’re not all meant for war. Mamá doesn’t want our people to devolve into death-obsessed soldiers and little else.”

The golden-eyed elf knows the stereotype her mother has spouted all too well, at one point believing it herself once upon a time. Seeing proof that humanity can change for the better, actively trying to find a use for their tools beyond warfare, only proves she might have made the right choice not trying to uphold her mother’s goal. There’s more to humanity after all, not just one or two good apples in a bunch, so to speak, and their refusal to fight for the sake of it proves it in her eyes.

”…What’s your favorite machine?” she asks in an awestruck tone, starting to see the value in the smaller bipeds. “You certainly seem to have greater knowledge on them, surely you have a preference for at least one of them, correct?”

Her question is given a response, the princess pulling her friend by the hand to lead her through the bay, unwittingly showing Amity a variety of more war machines and tools. More self-drawn carriages, automatically-reloading cannons, makeshift staffs that can be used to prevent droughts, all the way until they come across a variety of shields. Small, large, iron, cobalt, tungsten, flimsy, sturdy, for the arms, for the back, and a variety of trait combinations and everything between. However, what especially draws the princess’s attention is a metal statue in the shape of a horned skull, freezing for a moment.

”…We don’t talk about that one,” she warns, keeping her distance. “That’s for a last resort.”

”It always benefits to keep something you consider as such than not at all,” her guard states in a more grim tone, understanding the sentiment. “It’s better to have something dire should the worst come to pass than to not have a contingency, though… it’s perhaps best not to tamper with until then.”

Toward the back of the workshop, out of all others’ line of sight, resides a single pyramid, about 4’8 high and 3’6 wide, of magic-resistant tungsten, designed to withstand whatever output that’s sure to be generated. Luz looks upon the device with awe, no doubt a fan of the trinket, while Amity is still uncertain what she’s even looking at. The blue and green color scheme makes it stand out, being one of the few contraptions to have both colors, yet she lacks context.

”This is one of Mom’s own ideas, Lilith and Eda actually helped make it too,” she explains, tapping the side. “They call it a forcefield generator, and apparently it’s meant to protect everything in a certain radius. I… don’t know what the forcefield range is meant to be, but I heard it could protect the whole palace if given the right command.”

Such a contraption isn’t meant to be real, not even from the variety of stories the youngest Blight has read, exclaiming in disbelief, “That’s impossible, Luz. It would require the greatest sorcerers alive to make a barrier that large and more just to maintain it! How is this even possible?”

Luz doesn’t feel offended by such claims, having believed them herself a long while ago, replying, “I thought that too. It helps that some of the most powerful alchemists and sorcerers alive helped make it! Isn’t it great? Something that’s very useful in war all without having to kill anyone. The soldiers can prepare for a counterattack, and the second the forcefield goes down, they can fight back with more force. Or if there’s someone we don’t want to fight but we can’t avoid a confrontation, we can just turn this on and we’re free to do whatever as long as we keep the generator running.”

The commander can’t help but nod along, intrigued something so powerful could be used without the intent of killing. She’s now certain that the Empress has been sincere about her desire to prevent needless war after all, though she can’t help but notice the princess’s word choice.

“Head Alchemist and Marshal Clawthorne helped create this powerful device, that much I can understand. Though you say your mother helped with the creation of the forcefield generator, yes?” she asks, confused by such words. “There’s very few humans who can even cast a light spell, much less a barrier larger than the Khelyrian Palace, especially not without extensive training.”

The comment does nothing to phase the princess, nodding as she gestures for Amity to take a closer look herself. She doesn’t dare object, fascinated something so powerful came from the minds of at least two elves and a human, wondering just how they made something so powerful without the need for more materials or manpower. She suspects concentrated energy centered around protection spells was needed, though she needs to see it in action to truly grasp its potential.

Her respect for the Noceda Empire has grown, her fascination growing by the minute as she further comprehends the force Lady Odalia wishes to control.

Chapter Text

By month’s end, Commander Blight is alerted to her next job, for once not scheduled to train knights, but rather to guard the princess beyond the palace walls. It’s for a political meeting, much to her chagrin, though compared to most meetings where her mother demanded she be apart of the conversation, she just has to remain quiet. The task is simple, and at least she won’t be alone, keeping watch over the royal family, the ones who believe her worthy of a happy life. The least she feels she can do is attend and ensure nothing goes awry, just fortunate the group to negotiate with isn’t the Blights, aware how such a meeting would turn out had she not joined as a Paladin herself.

Luz may find the meetings boring, but she understands and accepts their purpose in the grand scheme of things. She’s always believed a peaceful solution should at the very least be attempted before warfare becomes an option, having seen the effects just one battle can have on civilization. The Empress wants her to know what must be done once a meeting occurs, the princess more than happy to attend to listen and learn, knowing one day it will be her trying to ensure another war fails to come to Xadia. She may have to wear more stuffy clothing, but she sees it as a small price to pay for protecting potentially millions of lives.

One of the few human factions who have yet to join the Noceda Empire’s fold proper is the Wittebane Administration, a series of facilities run by engineers seeking to protect their half of Xadia. Their fears are not unfounded, much to the royal family’s chagrin and knowledge of many battles and wars past, but dwelling on them will only lead to stagnation. Princess Luz herself has let her mother know about such worries, but no matter the reasoning or tactic, the Director refuses to back down from his beliefs.

The office is silent save for the ticking of a grandfather clock and the words spoken between the officials, the walls painted white with large gold, triangular emblems across them. A painting of the first known Wittebane, Director Belos I, overlooks the room, a desk near the furthest wall from the entrance housing the latest descendant, a blonde, scarred elder with cold blue eyes. His white robes hide his frame and his clothing beneath, the golden-eyed elf keeping herself quiet as she stands at the entrance.

’Do not intervene unless needed. He’s not your target, therefore you don’t spill his blood,’ she repeats in her head repeatedly, her thoughts softening slightly upon noticing the royal family sit across from the man. ‘Your goal is to protect them first and foremost. You have your job, this is one objective you can’t possibly screw up.’

What she hears, however, makes breaking her oath all the more tempting.

”You don’t understand anything after all, do you? Elves have caused more harm than good, ironic for a species with magic capable of bringing life to the very land. Need I remind you of what happened to Emperor Noceda?” Director Philip “Belos” Wittebane X spits, knowing he’s aiming low but unsure how else to get his point across. “You’ve seen the destruction that has been wrought in their name, you’ve experienced it yourselves. And yet you choose to forgive the ones who took his life.”

Such an attack on her family, her husband, angers the Empress. Her grip around her staff tightens, her outward demeanor unshaken otherwise as she nods along, aware of the atrocities elven folk have committed in the name of their people, their kingdoms, and themselves. However, the Director has failed to account for several points.

”I have not forgiven the elves who have murdered Manny in cold blood, Director. They’ve been prosecuted and dealt with years ago, yet no punishment will ever bring my husband and Luz’s father back, (no matter how many elves one may sacrifice,)” she explains in an embittered yet controlled tone, the last part a murmur under her breath. “However those were not all of Xadia’s elves. It doesn’t matter whether ten or ten million folk have been evil in the past, they’re still not the ones who took the late Emperor from us.”

The younger woman suppresses a whimper at the thought, grasping the brim of her dress as she recalls the day she lost her dad. Commander Blight can’t help but shudder at the thought, understanding both why elves have been allowed to join the Noceda Empire and a chapter in the history between the humans and the elves. It was only a matter of time, but it doesn’t change certain facts.

“By treating them as monsters, we only push the stereotype that we’re uncompromising conquerors. We’re not just our races, we are individuals, something even you should understand, Director,” the Empress explains carefully, her rage quelled as she holds out a hand for her daughter to hold. “You’re right, some elves are indeed evil and would want nothing more than for the entirety of humanity to wither away and be forgotten by history. Ask yourself this, however: has our kind been much different?”

”Are you insinuating that we aren’t different from them, Empress?” the Director spits, his voice only slightly higher than a whisper. “Such lies. Need I remind you of centuries of documentation? They lack what we have in terms of what we can feel. They’re little more than magic-inclined-“

”Enough of this nonsense, Director. Humans have encroached on elven land just as much as they have for the humans’ half of the continent. To suggest we haven’t at all suggests we’re lying or trying to change history, not accepting the faults we’ve made,” Camila retorts, her anger more evident yet remaining controlled; an outburst will not look good on her, and she can’t afford to allow for personal ideals to blind her. “Everyone has sinned at one point or another in their lives, but there’s still a chance at redemption. What you should ask, however, is whether or not someone deserves said second chance, and it’s clear to me you don’t seem to believe in such a concept.”

Luz wants to vouch for such claims, only to bite her tongue, only briefly able to look over to her friend, her hands trembling slightly. Director Wittebane notices her behavior, having suspicions about the recently-promoted Commander, how she has refused to unmask herself or even speak until now. Her height is largely elven, and given what slop he’s been given, his suspicion only grows. The fact she shares a surname with the Blights only leads him to draw conclusions, but what he needs is a species before jumping to the conclusion he both yearns for and dreads.

”…You’re right, it appears we won’t be able to negotiate once again. To think my own brethren have allowed themselves to devolve,” he states with a sigh, unable to hide his disappointment, incapable of hiding his rhetoric any longer. “I believe it’s best you three leave.”

The Nocedas see no reason to argue with such a claim, Commander Blight leading her companions toward the carriage. The last thing they need is more chaos when tension between factions has already grown so delicate.

The coachman keeps his eyes on the road before him as the passengers mentally recuperate after another failed negotiation attempt. For the fifth time in a row, the Wittebane Administration has refused to see the error in their ways, with their rhetoric only growing more explicit by the day. Maybe it’s a risk going out personally, with her child no less, yet they need to in order to prove they’re still people; they must practice what they preach, after all.

”This is why we can’t let their attempts at spreading misinformation persist, Mija. However, the most we can do is attempt to disprove them and hope the public will accept the truth rather than less-than-comforting lies,” the mother explains, exasperated after listening to more drivel from the Director. “Please remind me to never speak with men like him again, it only leads to more messes in the long run.”

”Understood, Empress,” Commander Blight confirms, her own tone filled with unhidden frustration. “May I add my own thoughts to the conversation?”

”Not right now, not while none of us are thinking clearly,” Camila denies, curious but knowing she can’t trust her judgement in that moment. “Later, however, you can speak with me about that. For now, just rest, Commander; I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.”

”…I’d like to listen, once we get back, of course,” Luz insists, wondering just what her companion has to say.

“Then I accept the offer, Princess. And Empress, there’s no need to apologize,” she explains in a slightly less terse tone, understanding Camila’s frustrations. “Dwelling will solve nothing in the long run. I insist, do as you suggested we do and rest.”

The Empress can’t stop herself from nodding, just glad the meeting was able to halt before anything unnecessary had to be carried out. Negotiations haven’t even been made, only drivel from both sides, mentally chastising herself for failing to even provide a list of potential agreements.

’…There’s always next time, there will always be a next time,’ she reminds herself, the many prior meetings with him and other groups acting as the proof she needs. ‘It’s only a matter of time, but I can’t sit around doing nothing.’

Luz has seen how not all meetings end with positive results, at least not for the Noceda Empire. She knows the toll it can take on someone seeing failure after failure, especially after losing a loved one, but that doesn’t mean she can’t do anything about it. The princess holds onto her mother’s arm, silently trying to convey how proud she is, the older woman’s tension melting away as she pulls her daughter close. They’ll make it through one way or another, even if the desired outcome doesn’t seem so easy to achieve.

Watching the mother and daughter bond so gently leaves Commander Blight to think about her own past, about how her own family has run. She recalls the occasional fun moment with Emira and Edric, proof they’ve always loved one another, until further memories of her parents dominate her subconscious in that moment. The contrast between Alador’s seeming indifference and Odalia’s constant demands for more drove her to work nonstop, but while the former showed how proud he was of her daughter’s success, the same can’t be said about the latter.

Nonetheless, she can’t help but feel grateful she still came far enough to come as far as she has. The armored woman knows that if she weren’t under control for a large portion of her life, her opportunities would have been limited to some degree, and she is unsure if she would have ever stepped within Khelyria to begin with. However, despite being given the opportunities, she is still the one to have made her own accomplishments and failed, not Odalia.

’…I’m not a failure, I’ve already done so much despite what I’ve committed,’ she reminds herself, her tension indicating neither joy nor distress. ‘I’ve been making a name for myself. You may have lead me down this path, but it’s still my path to tread, Mother.’

She may not be related to the princess in a direct manner, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel fulfilled. The commander doubts she would become more than a friend, but at least she knows she’s more than just a soldier, a greater reward then a hundred years’ worth of gold coins and gems. At least she can learn where to go with herself down the line, and if it means being appreciated and seen as a person, she doesn’t find the idea of lacking a further purpose so intimidating any longer.

tink

The familiar sound of an arrowhead colliding with a solid surface catches Commander Blight’s attention, immediately turning her head toward the source of the noise. A small scratch along the back left window, directly across where the Princess is sitting, is what she finds, immediately grabbing both her and the Empress and pulling them to the ground.

”Commander!” the mother shouts, confused. “What are you-?!”

tink tink tink tink

More arrows are fired, further cracking the glass from the Empress side that time, immediately warning. The coachman, realizing what’s going on, deactivates the carriage and lowers himself toward the floor, refusing to let himself become a target either.

”Stay right here, Empress. We’ll go nowhere unless they’re dealt with,” she warns her superior, her tone stoic as she steels herself for combat. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Nobody is leaving or entering the carriage the threat has been extinguished. A latch on the other side and a key in Amity’s pocket ensure not even demons will reach them without a fight to the death.

Commander Blight officially draws her proper greatsword for the first time since she’s achieved her promotion, enraged someone would knowingly attack the Empress. She has seen no reason someone would wish harm upon her or her loved ones, having seen her at her best and having come to understand her desires for her people. Only the knowledge that the deluded, much like Director Belos’ lineage, confirm they don’t even need to comprehend the truth, just that they must twist it to their advantage. Such knowledge prepares the commander for what’s to come, closely listening for even the slightest hint of movement.

The ruffling of leaves from nearby bushes alert her, raising her left hand to send a bolt of purple fire toward the foliage, plumes of black smoke aimed to coax her enemies out. Her attempt was a success, shouts of terror and rage sounding as at least 15 masked men and women emerge, having not expected to be found so quickly, much less by a Commander. Crossbows and bows are drawn and aimed at the armored elf, the melee-proficient drawing daggers and shortswords, their opponent’s golden eyes narrowed as she takes a stance, prepared to fight.

”You have one chance to surrender with your lives or face the wrath of the Empress,” she warns the crew, unable to hide a growl as she remains near the carriage. “Never say I didn’t warn you, whether you be bandits or assassins.”

She waits for one of them to speak, only for three of them to launch crossbow bolts directly toward the protector’s head, denying any chance of walking away peacefully. The bolts are dodged with a tilt of the head, immediately retaliated with the armored juggernaut’s growls akin to a dragon’s. She’s given them a chance to stand down and walk away, they’ve made their choice to continue their assault, and so they shall pay the price.

The close-range combatants charge forward, aiming to overwhelm her with greater numbers, only for Commander Blight to swing wide once a swordsman approaches, decapitating him with a single strike.

‘15.’

Marksmen fire from a short distance, refusing to give her the advantage, trying to aim through her visor to pierce her eyes. Amity refuses to fall so easily, using one hand to hoist up a horrified assassin before a small volley of iron-tipped projectiles pierced her upper torso. Her end came quickly as a result, the enemy’s body dropping to the ground as she slashes and jabs forward without prejudice.

’14. 13. 12. 11. 10.’

The archers realize their numbers are falling, blades shattering and flesh torn from their bodies, their attacks blocked either by the armored elf’s plating or her large blade, requiring a new strategy. Poison-tipped daggers are drawn by both the direct fighters and their ranged allies, refusing to give her more chances to fight back. Three strike as one, aiming for her joints in the hopes of inflicting even minor wounds to slow her down, the one to the commander’s right having his neck snapped by a stomp of her boot.

’9. 8. 7.’

The other three fall, though a blade does manage to pierce her skin between the shoulder and neck. A soft hiss of pain escapes her lips, her fury growing as the only ones to remain are the archers, the poison seeming to have no immediate effects. The attackers grow terrified, their numbers dwindling as their foe refuses to fall, all while even their greatest attacks yield no meaningful results. Commander Blight refuses to allow for anyone to escape, grabbing her foe’s shortswords and lobbing them toward her attackers as if they were throwing knives, cutting through bows as if they were twigs before impaling them.

’6. 5. 4. 3.’

Only two of the foes remain, the first of which not wanting to return without at least one royal’s head, trying to at least bring down the soldier with him. A swing of his sword is countered with one of her own strikes, snapping as if it were made from flimsy copper, before a steel gauntlet grips his neck. His last resort, a poison-tipped dagger, is rendered moot as the gauntlet squeezes, both his corpse and his blade falling.

KRAK

Thump

‘2.’

The last attacker immediately drops his weapon, understanding the futility of fighting as he puts his hands behind his head, kneeling. Commander Blight carefully looks upon her opponent, not wanting to believe one of her enemy has willingly chosen to stand down, before reaching and tearing away anything that could potentially act as a weapon. She didn’t put down more than a dozen men and women just for the last to finish what they started, only sheathing her greatsword upon finding nothing of note.

’Not a single spell was cast,’ the Commander notes, shackling the now-prisoner before ordering. “You walk the rest of the way. Don’t make me regret showing you mercy.”

After covering the bodies of 14 deceased, a now-slightly dizzy Commander Blight opens the door once more, specks of blood across her armor indicating she’s dealt with the attackers. She has come across raids and attacks like what transpired less than a minute prior, but it makes the outcome no less exhausting. Her skin was nicked with venom, now starting to feel the effects.

’I’ve grown careless,’ she scolds herself, taking a seat across from her superior. 

Luz can only look up with a mixture of terror and concern, understanding whatever happened outside was far from bloodless, her protector still seeming uneasy despite showing no visible wounds. She doesn’t know what to say, just grateful her friend was able to defend her and her mother. She heard her elven companion give them a chance to stand down, the fight lasting maybe a minute before the commander returned, having been sincere in her desire to protect.

”Commander, show me where they struck,” the princess’s mother orders, slightly shaken yet no less concerned. “You’re hurt.”

”That won’t be necessary, Empress,” Amity denies, refusing to let herself grow too vulnerable. “I’ve suffered worse and survived.”

”Nonsense, you’re poisoned. Now show me where they struck you,” the empress orders, her expression neither cruel nor compromising. “You’ve protected my daughter and I, it’s the least I should do for you.”

An order is an order, and Amity is forced to remove her armor if she wishes to appease her superior. She removes her chestplate and her right arm piece to reveal to her Empress where a bandit struck her, keeping her helmet on as Camila takes a look and Luz keeps to her side, not wanting her to feel alone.

’She saved us without even being given an order. It’s the least I can do for her,’ she concludes, fascinated by what she sees.

Removing the padding beneath reveals a white top over skin pale like the moon, suggesting Amity could be of Moonshadow descent. Visible skin is marred almost entirely with scars of all sorts, ranging from scratches to chemical burns, from throughout her life. A small gash between her shoulder and neck bleeds, the wound already beginning to tint a subtle black hue.

”I… I’m alright, Your Majesty,” the commander insists, the human ruler’s hand making contact with the gash. “I just need an antidote.”

”Not with poison this strong. Hold still, Amity,” the mother insists, refusing to let another soldier suffer. “This will only take a minute.”

Luz keeps a firm hold of their protector’s hand, showing it’s going to be alright.

Chapter Text

About an hour more passes before the Empress’s carriage returns home safely, having suffered no lasting damages and with one prisoner in tow. His fallen allies’ location is marked for recovery, the confirmed-mercenary locked up to await a trial for sentencing his crimes, all the while soldiers look on in surprise. Their superior officer, Amity, has successfully protected the princess, with seemingly no wound to herself, earning her great praise among the ranks alongside a small morale boost. All the while, the Paladin remains silent, still comprehending what happened once she returned to her seat in the carriage.

She healed her. Amity can’t believe what happened, still tracing over where a poisoned slash very well could’ve ended her life. She could have been left to fend for herself, accepting she may not have survived at first, but it does nothing to change what happened to her.

’The Empress used healing magic, sealing the wound and removing the venom,’ she repeats in her head, recalling her insistence on providing the care. ‘There was no reason to let me face an uncertain fate. She treated me as if I were another noble, and…’

Commander Blight still can’t get over the fact the most powerful woman alive has used healing magic. There wasn’t a source to draw from, no hint of an incantation, not even a stone to simulate the effects of performing a spell. Empress Camila Noceda did what most humans can only dream of.

’This explains how she was able to help develop the forcefield generator,’ she realizes, the surprise slowly waning as she awaits briefing with the Marshal. ‘It’s no longer a question of why Mom wants Khelyria. If she were eliminated, fatal or not, conquest would become more likely. Perhaps a morale drop, maybe even societal collapse with the fall of the most powerful human alive being defeated. Damn you…’

Realization and disgust turn to rage as she realizes the full extent of her mother’s plans. She has seen experienced enough of the royals to fully understand they pose no threat to the Titan Empire, only willing to fight if actively provoked, with weapons of immense power prepared to be set off at a moment’s notice. The Empress herself, and eventually so will Luz, her first true friend, set out to establish peaceful relations with other human territories for a greater future. Nothing she’s come across even implies war is within their intentions, much less within their vocabulary.

And Odalia wants to achieve control through marriage. Now it makes sense why she was to marry Luz. However, before her thoughts wander further, the armored elf hears the door to the Marshal’s office open, revealing a towering elven warrior with eyes of teal. It’s the pale elf’s first time meeting a superior beyond royalty, quickly standing at attention, refusing to deny respect. The 6’3 official’s slender figure hides her potential and prowess, her mint-green eyes narrowed with suspicion as she gestures to her subordinate.

”Commander Blight, into my office please,” she instructs, her voice firm to allow for no objection. “I need to speak with you about the attack.”

”Yes ma’am,” Amity replies, immediately joining her within the office.

Commander Blight has never entered the Marshal’s office before, leaving her surprised to find a row of ivory bookshelves filled with history books to the left of the door and maps of various territories to the right. A table takes up half of the room’s space, sparse save for a model of the Khelyrian Palace in the center of the untampered surface. Two sets of excavation equipment remain in a case to the side of the Marshal’s seat, behind her a frame of herself alongside her sister, the Head Alchemist. Marshal Clawthorne sits across from the youngest Blight, hands clasped together atop her desk as her demeanor remains stoic, noticing her soldier not taking a seat.

’…No, she’s only following orders. You need to speak to her,’ she reminds herself, clearing her throat before insisting and clarifying, “Please have a seat. There’s several things I’d like to discuss about the attack, particularly the attackers themselves.”

”Of course, ma’am. The Empress, Princess, the coachman, and myself have been returning to the palace after attempting to convince the Wittebane Administration to join the Noceda Empire through negotiations. Things haven’t gone in our favor, and thus on the return trip, we came across a squadron of what we now know are mercenaries,” the commander notes with honesty, unable to read her boss’s expression.

She proceeds to explain all that has occurred. The way they seemed to target the royal family at first, how there was more than a dozen mercs to wipe out everyone in a single carriage no matter who’s within, that she gave them a single chance to stand down, how they were prepared to the point of having poison-tipped weaponry. Only one of them as survived thanks to surrendering, and with him she’s sure at least some amount of information will be dredged up. The additional account of having been cured of poison and her wound healed displays humility, admittance that at the end of the day, even a powerful elven fighter can still bleed. However, what concerns her is that it was only after Belos and Camila spoke to one another, leading her to suspect foul play.

”I have no evidence beyond the timing right now, though I do suspect someone with knowledge would wish to find my… objective terminated for their own purposes. I unfortunately know not who these mercenaries are or where they came from, only what my objective was and what had to be done,” she states with a lack of conviction, only aware she’s holding onto accusations and nothing more. “The only other possibility I can come up with is that a third party was involved, though I lack any concrete proof as to who said third party is, assuming they exist at all. That is all I can recall, Marshal.”

The most seasoned warrior of the Noceda Empire nods along, understanding everything and spotting no hint of lies, be it in her eyes or how she speaks. Every word was direct, sincerity in her beliefs tempered by admitting to speculation, with not even her disdain for the attackers demonizing either herself or them. It paints a picture of what her superior is supposed to know, down to the now-healed neck wound, that there’s nothing to hide, something she suspects her boss to speculate.

“…Thank you for your honesty, Commander. The mercenary will be interrogated by the end of the day, and you’ve proven yourself a devoted soldier,” Lilith praises, unable to deny the accomplishment the younger elf was responsible for, before softening her voice. “Another thing, before you leave. I’d like to tell you something else. Not just as the Marshal, but as an aunt.”

She reaches out an ivory hand, Amity reaching her gauntlet out in turn to grasp, before her superior shakes it. First the Empress and implicitly the Head Alchemist, next the Princess, and now hthe Marshal, leading to more inner surprise from the woman who believes she’s only doing her job.

”Thank you for keeping Luz safe, really,” the elder Clawthorne Sister murmurs, unable to hide her emotion any longer. “Maybe I’m biased knowing you’ve done something I should have, perhaps I’m feeling envy you’ve accomplished what I couldn’t have from the palace. Expect a bonus for protecting both the Empress and the Princess, an incentive and small reward for keeping my niece safe.”

The word “niece” catches Amity’s attention, further explaining why the leaders have seemed close toward one another all this time. She is starting to believe “Royal Family” is little more than a public title for Luz and Camila, but that it involves those within the latter’s inner circle, though she isn’t sure to what extent. The fact she’s managed to do well in her Marshal’s eyes regardless proves the green-haired elf has done well either way, something the commander would gladly accept.

”…I was merely doing my job, Marshal,” she insists, her tone too gentle to hide her words’ motive. “I was told to protect Princess Luz, therefore I protected her.”

”And yet Camila’s own report insists you took action, needing not even an answer to risk your life just to save them. Don’t downplay your actions, Commander,” a more firm Marshal Clawthorne admonishes, though with a gentle tone than the reprimand would imply. “Besides, something tells me you’ve had more than just a job to do when protecting the Princess. Your gentler motions at all other hours and time spent in the training field suggests you see her as a friend at minimum and something more at most, whatever that ‘more’ may be.”

The commander can’t help but blush, surprised someone found out about her affectionate time with the princess. She didn’t think Lilith would be so observant, much less about someone so willing to fight to the death if need be, yet her own demeanor shows her words ring true. She has indeed grown close to the human, no longer able to hide it, feeling she must speak the truth.

”…That is true, Marshal. She… completes me, for a lack of a better term,” Amity admits, struggling not to let her dread take over. “Of all the people I have met, she is the first one I can truly consider a friend. I was given a choice, not an order, to be her friend, and I scoffed at the idea. However, over the past month… yes, she’s a friend. My best friend, someone I can safely say I’d die for if need be, with or without being instructed to. Given your assessment, I suppose it’s best to confirm that yes, it’s mere luck that our goals happen to coincide now.”

The elder Clawthorne Sister nods along, understanding her commander’s explanation. It may not be professional, but ensuring her niece is safe and giving her a chance to make a friend are things the Empress would employ. Part of her knows she will need to speak with her about such a truth coming to light, though so long as everything goes according to plan, disciplinary action and demotion would be cruel.

Moreover, the same sincerity shines through. Nothing suggests the savior to have been anything less than truthful.

”I see… Please, make sure she’s safe out there,” Lilith murmurs in a soft tone, needing some time to think. “You’re dismissed, return to your post. And don’t let me catch you breaking her heart.”

”…Yes ma’am.”

The dungeon is a quiet segment of the Khelyrian palace, having been largely unused save for a direct threat to the Noceda Empire as a whole. The walls are a charcoal-black stone, contrasting the white marble much of the outside is constructed of, four lesser corridors of cells lined wall to wall. A single table remains in each one, a quartet of guards patrolling nearby to ensure no escapees try anything.

The Owl Lady keeps close watch over the prisoner, unable to deny the irony of the entire situation. The mercenary’s clothing is a simple gray to remain inconspicuous in most public areas, just dark enough to blend in with shadows while hiding within a bush or beneath something. A satchel with a gold buckle and a spider silk strap is slung across his torso, helping him stand out amongst his peers, the buckle featureless.

”Look at you. Wanting to hurt the kid, only to wind up in a cell and all your buddies dead. Kinda makes me wonder why you did it though,” she scoffs, insulted someone unprepared thought they could hurt her favorite humans. “Oh wait, don’t tell me: money, fame, maybe a lad or lass thanks to notoriety?”

The bandit remains silent, refusing to let the Alchemist of all people break him. He has his orders and he’s failed his part; if he tells any secrets, he’s a dead man, but if he stays quiet, he’s sure torture will come his way, and he isn’t sure what outcome is worse for him. The crook remains quiet as a result, waiting for a reason to make his choice sooner, when he notices her head to the other side of the corridor, working with a brewing stand. The ingredients from mana-rich plants and dangerous beasts are lined in separate bowls, the woman immediately starting by adding several plant-based ingredients to the stand.

”I don’t know if you’re not aware, but potions, usually medicines, often taste disgusting as a side effect of actually doing their job. Thanks to some funding, I can make any potion taste as if they were gravy, wine, or even liquid sugar!” Eda explains in a chipper tone, heating up a simple brew, applying Sea Cherry Extract to her mix. “However, some criminals over the years have used tasty flavors to hide the deadliest poisons one can come across. For example, poison to apply to blades?”

She slides into view a vial of what was once filled with familiar liquid, now empty. The mercenary’s eyes widen with horror upon realizing what the Head Alchemist is up to, having known even a single drop of the stuff can lead to a slow, agonizing death in all but those immune or with access to a cure. He is sure she wouldn’t offer said cure.

”Here’s what we’re gonna do. You can either spill the tea and tell me all your little secrets,” Eda offers in a more stern tone, mixing and heating up ingredients, “or you can be the first human to try this particular brew. I have all day, and you did almost harm both a knight I’ve grown to like and my daughter figure. What’ll it be?”

Before he has time to think, a bubbling, blood-red tincture within a clear bottle is presented, its contents appearing obvious to the criminal. He struggles against his bonds, the chains refusing to break or loosen from around his wrists. The closer his captor approaches, the more he panics, terror creeping in as the deceptive scent of cherries invades his nostrils.

’Screw it! I’m dead either way!’

”I don’t know!” he shouts with panic. “My crew’s leader had the contract, but that commander killed her! All I know is that if we offed someone in a carriage coming from the Wittebane Administration's territory, we’d be rolling in money! That’s all I know, I swear!”

”Really! Well I don’t remember seeing a contract in the girl’s pocket or bag,” Eda notes with a growing smirk and a roll of her golden eyes, only halting her progression, not backing away. “Sure you don’t have anything else to add?”

The criminal thinks hard about what he recalls about the mission, panting as he recalls several key details.

”A-An elf! We were hired by an elf, and they gave us the poison!” the prisoner pleads, trying to avoid a grisly fate. “No idea who, I just know they made the offer and the boss took it! I saw a hawk emblem on their chest!”

The detail catches Eda off-guard, her intrigue growing.

”Was its wings outstretched and talons open?” she questions, swirling her concoction. “Tick-tock, this is a very important question.”

”I-I don’t know about the talons, but yeah the wings were open,” the crook pleads, trying to face away from the brew. “Why?”

”Not much. Now you can sit in there until the courts decide what to do with you,” the alchemist quips, immediately pulling away and walking out the cell. “Lily’s gonna ask you a few more questions, just tell her what you can and you’ll be fine. Anyway, mama’s gonna test a new spell.”

The prisoner can’t help but gawk in horror as the Owl Lady drinks the brew in her hands, not stopping until every last drop is gone. She looks over with a smirk, wiping her face off with her sleeve.

”I nullified the poison. Hello? One of the best alchemists in the world?” she teases, laughing at the man’s reaction. “What a riot! Good talking with you. Byeeee!”

‘…We were paid too little for a job like this.”

Chapter Text

A full week has passed since the attack on the royal carriage, and in that time security has been increased. There’s no clue as to who orchestrated the ambush, the culprit has been set to remain imprisoned for a long time, and now the Knights of Khelyria are finally on their next part of training. First they learned how to cooperate and hold standard swords right, meaning they can defend themselves well enough, but now they must refine themselves bit by bit.

Working proper shifts gives them a chance to put their positions to use, the occasional read-up keeps everyone up-to-date and up-to-code with the palace’s standards, with the occasional break thrown in to prevent unnecessary agony down the line. The knights truly were less-than-ideal in Commander Blight’s eyes, but now at least they can prove their worth, with not a single defector or coward.

’Maybe scared from the pressure, but none of them backed down. That is bravery, not a lack of fear,’ Amity notes, polishing her shield as she awaits for Luz to arrive.

Five minutes pass and indeed she arrives, though not donned in training garb, but rather her standard attire.

”C’mon, I want to show you around the garden,” she suggests, gesturing toward a familiar garden. “You can’t keep training all the time.”

”That is what I’ve been told to be acceptable, and you insist we forget it?” the commander notes with confusion, trying to understand her friend’s thought process. “Why?”

“Lilith said it’s good if everyone takes a break from training at least once in a while. You give everyone else the privilege, even me, so why can’t you?” the princess clarifies before the confusion can persist. “It’s not like you'll abandon your post or anything, your job is to stay nearby so that I’m safe.”

”Damned loopholes,” Amity murmurs with a slight chuckle, stretching her arms, the sound of her joints popping slightly impossible for either her or the princess to ignore. “Looks like when you said I’d matter to you, you meant it. I suppose I’ve failed to account for how far that trait would go. Very well then, let’s head to the garden.”

A break from endless training isn’t permitted from what she’s recalled in prior professions. However, when offered, she doesn’t find it wise to toss away something so inviting when the risk of consequences is nonexistent. Regardless, seeing her favorite human smile and gesture her to follow brings a warm sensation, proof that she’s made the right choice choosing to stay.

Commander Blight only recalls entering the royal gardens once before, when she first met the Empress and the Princess. Her focus was drawn toward either spiders or them, unable to truly grasp exactly where she’s been allowed to tread until now, and she can’t help but admire the beauty of it all.

The Royal Gardens, a patch of land on the Noceda Family and associates can tread, remains hidden from public eyes, a small stream of royal-blue water flowing through the center of it all. Blue bushes of Mana Herbs are planted toward the entrance, from there a rainbow of other flowers and bushes spreading in all directions. The trees alone flourish from the solitude, not a single withered leaf upon their branches, several mangrove vines draping downward as a sign of unambiguous health. The only man-made objects anywhere in sight are paths across the land, over the stream, or even to hold flora not native to the human half of Xadia.

Few have ever laid eyes upon such a sight before in their lives, and Amity is among them. It differs from a set of samples in a lab, a precarious symphony of harmony as far as the eye can see. She wonders whether an illusion spell or two is used to make the garden seem larger than it may be, but she can’t stop gazing. Dragon Roses, Tide Tulips, the occasional gust of excess flower petals as both scenery and fertilizer. There is more than three of each plant but all specimens in sight offer something new to the orchestra of nature.

The only section of plants not in bloom are for the night, flower buds waiting to blossom and the leaves not quite as flourishing as the rest. Even so, they display no signs of decay, nothing suggesting a hindrance to the rest of the garden, as if they were a choir preparing for the chance to sing alongside a symphony.

“…Your gardeners must have been the best of a good lot,” Amity can’t help but murmur, surprised the humans could create something so delicate. “There isn’t any chance only one could create something so delicate.”

”True, but it was always pretty even back in the day. It’s said a family of Earthen Elves wanted to kill one of my ancestors, but changed their minds after seeing what they were trying to do,” the youngest Noceda explains, holding up a tome of folktales. “Nobody knows what their family name is, or if they’re still around today, just that they decided to repay my family for something and just disappear. Whatever the garden used to be, the soil is so fertile flowers blossom in days and trees reach maturity in months.”

Legend or not, the proof lies all around the duo, treading the stone pathway. The towering woman can’t help but find the abundance of life a pleasant contrast to the overabundance of death the continent has experienced over the centuries. To be reminded of why the Noceda Family wishes to accomplish brings her a sense of hope for something greater than family names or promotions. For once it feels as if she doesn’t need to partake in something for the sake of others, that she can finally make choices beyond those of her peers. It’s the same thing her father told her, the same thing that has been promoted from the start, the ability to choose what happens next.

’…I’m not the only one to make such decisions, am I?”

”Has your empire been trying to end the war so beauty like this can return?” she asks with a hint of hesitance to believe it. “There’s no chance something this fantastic can remain intact for generations without upkeep, be it directly or not.”

”That’s mom’s goal at least. She just doesn’t see the point in constantly fighting for Xadia when a more peaceful approach can be made. There’s a whole lot more out there just waiting to be discovered, and she thinks we can experience it if we stopped fighting and got along,” Luz clarifies, admiring her mom’s efforts. “It’s going to be a long, long time until that can happen, but every time someone joins or agrees to support peace, it confirms that a better future, for both elves and humans, is still possible. So, what’s your story?”

Her question catches her protector by surprise, taking a moment to process the question.

”…My story?” she repeats. “Like why I’m here?”

”Yeah! You joined the Noceda Empire three years ago, and you became a Commander that quickly. You must have a pretty strong motivator to do that well in that little time, right?” Luz confirms with clarification, curiosity laced with every word and not a hint of suspicion. “You know why I want to do. What’s your goal choosing to still be a soldier with Khelyria?”

The green-haired elf can’t help but remain silent for several seconds, trying to find some sort of excuse for her reasons behind her loyalty. Her favorite human notices how quiet her friend has become, suspecting there might be something more than blind loyalty or hoping to prove herself, though remaining silent. Forcing her to speak just might make Amity wish to hide away more, the last thing she wants to do, especially knowing whatever the motive is, there’s more to it than blind loyalty.

‘…I suppose it’s best I tell her the truth.’

”Princess, to put it simply, I believe it’s best you know why I joined the Royal Guard,” Commander Blight admits with an almost defeated tone, taking a seat beneath a tree, making herself smaller. “Please, do with this information as you see fit. Do with it as you will, as proof that at the end of the day, you and your mother have changed my life, especially you for having become my first proper friend in… well, my entire life.”

Luz nods to show it’s okay to continue, taking a seat in front of her, her attention undivided. Right now, it matters little to her what made her friend the way she is now, just aware that the Amity now is not the Amity of the past, whoever she may be.

”Atonement is part of the reason, though it’s not the full story behind my actions. Many years ago, I was apart of an Order meant to protect the Elven half of Xadia, at least until our objective involved us invading neighboring settlements to amass power and support. People, both elf and human, died for the sake of the order, all because we believed ourselves the heroes despite all evidence to the contrary. For a moment I’ve even… enjoyed it, having power that I was denied for much of my life, blinding me to my own atrocities,” the elf admits, forcing herself to look into Luz’s eyes, her voice shaking with a mixture of sorrow and regret. “It was some time after my first true taste of power that I finally took a look in the mirror, so to speak, and realized I’ve lost my way. I became the very thing my mother believed humanity to be: a murderer, pillager, and a prideful madwoman who only desires to expand and convert all I see into further pieces. I was a hypocrite, and others had to pay the price for it.”

Luz is partly horrified, understanding just why atonement would be a priority in Amity’s eyes. It makes sense why her own mom probably doesn’t know the full story, though the fact she stands here admitting she’s done wrong proves there’s still a heart somewhere in her, proof she’s not a monster. Perhaps it’s foolish, but after more than a month getting along, seeing a side of her happy to accept companionship regardless of her crimes, it means it’s possible to achieve atonement.

The commander continues, further stating, ”That was when I left, disgusted by not only my own actions, but those of my peers. I swore not to use my magic under any circumstances, not until I’ve proven to others, if not myself, that I’m not the same monster as I once was. We were no better than the ones who hurt our continent, and we basked in it. However, contrary to what many stories may tell, understanding atonement was needed and knowing just how to atone are two different things, leaving me lost for what must be done. Neither my siblings nor my father knew what to do, therefore I turned to the only person who was able to help, someone why could direct me… somewhere. The guilt was eating me alive; I didn’t want the dead’s lives to ultimately amount to nothing in the long run, so I turned to Odalia Blight, my aforementioned mother…”

Bitterness and disdain are apparent in the woman’s voice, her hands trembling as she shakes her head, making it clear agreeing to Odalia’s terms was a terrible choice in her eyes, a mistake among mistakes. Luz doesn’t dare pry, her heart breaking listening not to a commander, but Amity Blight, someone who hopes to do the right thing despite having been the villain once before. She reaches a hand out, never inching closer or pulling away, only for it to be nudged back gently; the story isn’t yet over.

“My mother, she… wanted me to rise in the ranks of the Royal Guard. She said that if I were to reach the top, I could finally make myself useful as something beyond a killer, at a cost,” she admits, her tone grim as she confesses to a deception she’s been apart of from the start. “If I wanted to prove myself worthy to be beyond a member of my Order, I was to do exactly as she said. So I did, taking up small jobs and training my body and mind harder than ever before, working every part of myself into becoming the greatest member of the Knights of Khelyria until I reached the rank of Commander, my current rank, within three years. Odalia wanted me to become a puppet for power, and the greatest step was reaching the royal family, speaking to you and your mother.”

Luz remains quiet. Her hand doesn’t pull away, though trembling can be spotted. Amity steels herself further, understanding nothing good will come unless she confesses. If anyone deserves to know the truth, it has to be the one friend she’s made. If she hates her, so be it. At least then she’ll have done something meaningful.

”…She wanted me to know you just so I could marry you. The only things keeping me from refuting the objective were a misguided attempt at appeasing family and my own selfish desire to prove my worth. I changed when I arrived, keeping myself from acting out her plan because my father, Alador, stated it’s my life, therefore I should dictate what the ultimate outcome of my life should be,” the Moonshadow Elf confesses, able to see her friend’s expression of surprise, unwilling to believe their friendship was built off a lie. “However, when I met you properly for the first time, I knew there was no hope of carrying out my mother’s order. You wanted to be my friend, you’ve destroyed any notion that people need a motive to do good, you wanted to protect me as well, and it all made me see you differently. If someone like you exists, then perhaps it’s not too late to do something beyond act as a Commander.”

Her tone grows more hopeful, continuing to explain her thoughts as she readjusts her body as she admits, “You, in a way, changed me for the better. I finally have a motive that means more than acting as a fighter. You made me see I truly don’t have to follow through with becoming a puppet. My father may have given me the idea, but your kindness was ultimately a deciding factor. You made me want to change for the better, not just for myself, but to prove myself a trustworthy sort. However, while my desire for atonement comes first, my hope to keep you and your mother, the first people to give me a chance to prove my worth, comes foremost. All this kindness from the bottoms of your hearts proves there’s no need to hide, but given the circumstances behind my current status, I understand remaining quiet will do nobody any good unless transparency is given, this time without a veil of deception.”

She bows down. It’s the first time in her entire life she has truly bowed down to anyone for any reason, one knee on the ground, hands on her raised knee, bending downward, undeniable proof that she’s loyal to the Noceda Empire.

”Do with this information as you see fit, Luz,” she murmurs in a defeated tone of voice, only now looking away. “This is why I’ve chosen to become a Paladin in the name of Empress Camila and Princess Luz.”

About a minute passes, and in that time the youngest Noceda can’t believe what she’s heard. The friendship she had used to be a lie, but now she sees it’s sincere, this time without any sort of ambiguity. The fact Amity proves she possesses enough humility to admit to her faults and aim to make up for them, this time the right way, proves she’s at least capable of redemption. She knows it will be a long time before her elven companion truly sees herself as having atoned, but it doesn’t mean she has to do it alone, much less suffer for it.

Even so, the least she can do is see what happens next, giving her friend the benefit of the doubt. If she wanted to have seen her suffer, something more subtle or insidious could’ve happened at any point over a month ago. The story is too convoluted to have easily been conceived, her tone and actions displaying a mixture of sorrow, regret, and fear, proof she wouldn’t dare defy the few people who treated her as more than a weapon.

”Take a seat, Amity,” she insists in a more tender tone, noticing her still tremble. “Just… don’t beat yourself up. I’m sure you’ll see yourself as a better person one day.”

Amity nods, finally slumping against the tree, her breathing shaken as she feels a pressure along her right side. She looks over to find Luz leaning into her, looking up with a soft smile, proof she sees her protector as more than a monster.

”…Thank you,” Amity whispers, barely keeping her demeanor intact.

”Thanks for being honest. How does it feel finally letting it all out?” the princess asks gently, clinging to her companion’s armored arm.

”As if I’ve torn my stomach open, minus the physical aspect. However it feels… nice, finally admitting to someone my thoughts on the matter,” the former criminal admits, slowly easing herself back into calmness. “Thank you for letting me confess. Just know you can… you know, do the same with me if you want. Is that alright?”

”Yeah, and if it makes a difference, I think you’re on your way toward redeem yourself,” Luz states with optimism and sincerity. “It’ll take a bit of time for this information to fully process, but I’d rather have someone who admits their faults and tries to do better over another human who doesn’t even want to reconsider their stance on something. Think about it: if you were still the same person as you were back then, would you ever confess?”

Amity shakes her head, knowing she’d be too prideful.

”Immediately proving my point. At least you haven’t given up yet.”

No more words are exchanged between the princess and commander, their backs against the tree as the day slowly passes by. Lunch is almost too delicious to pass up at this point, and after everything, anything would taste nice, especially a bowl of stew. It’ll definitely take some time to fully adjust, but one thing is certain in their minds: the bond between them has strengthened, more so than it has before.

A new sense of peace washes over Amity, slightly leaning back into Luz’s own side as pink leaves drift around them.

Chapter Text

The princess has prove herself to be a decent swordswoman after enough weeks have passed, with one-on-one sessions allowing her to truly understand the finer points. From a proper grip to sufficient swings, she is now comparable to a proper knight, something she is proud of while pleasing Amity to hear has been successful. Just knowing her friend’s strength has improved over time brings her hope that her duty will remain successful, no matter whether she’s present or not.

Fighting with a sword has made changing weapons for something else outside of emergencies almost impossible, much to Amity’s anmused understanding, but that doesn’t mean preparing can’t occur. To illustrate her point, she holds before her a pole with neither blade nor tip, keeping a wooden training shield raised as she approaches slowly, her daily tree branch set aside for the occasion.

“Everyone has a weapon they prefer to fight with, and admittedly I prefer a sword myself. Greatswords have great weight that is balanced out by my own strength and height,” the elf concedes with a hint of amusement, gesturing to her sword on a bench. “However, if you aim to keep one type of weapon on you at all times, you must at least know how to protect yourself regardless of the scenario. Not everyone will fight with a standard sword and shield, for example a polearm for greater reach.”

A simple jab toward the princess’s stomach staggers Luz, leaving her own to a blunt swing to her side, sending her to the ground. All the while, Amity takes measures that while she ensures her lessons are clear, she doesn’t cause needless harm to her favorite student. This is a training session, not a life-or-death scenario, helping her friend back up with an almost effortless tug, her tone gentler.

”That is why for the next few weeks, as it is for my other troops, you’ll be learning how to defend against different kinds of attacks. Staffs and polearms are the first of the lot we’ll be going over today, the user taking advantage of your limited range,” she states in a careful voice, refusing to allow for any misinterpretation. “Fortunately, while swordsmanship has its own weaknesses, every other style does as well. The key is to use those advantages against them, and having seen your work ethic, I’m sure you’ll find something of note even without having it pointed out.”

The mock-up battle commences, the princess more prepared as she blocks a jab forward, only to be staggered by a swing to her side. A nod from the commander follows once the blow to the shield is made, approval for having learned how to defend, before aiming for her legs, spotting another disadvantage.

”Try to protect your stance! Do what you can to protect yourself from what’s to come!” she orders, swinging toward her friend’s knees. “Those with polearms will likely do what they can to ensure they break your concentration! Once they do, you’ll be left vulnerable!”

Understanding, Luz uses her training sword to swing downward, sending the long stick into the ground for a second, all the time she needs to further approach Amity. Her swing toward her armored waist is halted by a gauntlet gripping her sword’s hilt, the assault stopping without another blow.

”Not bad. I’d have used my shield, but I can’t argue with the results. In all fairness, you might not have had your shield in a separate scenario,” Amity praises with a mixture of criticism and pride, happy to see the lessons are working. “Now do it again, this time without the instructions. Let’s see just how well you’ve learned.”

The lesson repeats itself several times, Amity refusing to lighten up too much, hoping to ensure her companion truly does develop. Her blows strengthen with each day that passes, her dexterity and agility noticeably improving the longer she wears armor compared to a dress. Each attack on Luz is different in an attempt to catch her off-guard, aiming to diversify her ability to defend herself, the girl’s brief panic washing away with courage as she pushes onward, her finishing blow always halted by a gauntlet. By the time the assault comes to an end, Luz has worked up a small sweat, briefly panting before calming herself.

”Impressive! I was sure you’d be halted by an overhead swing, but it seems I’ve trained you well! Almost too well, given how quickly you’re learning,” the commander notes with approval, the makeshift sword and shield now coated in a small series of chips and cracks. “Hmm… Perhaps it’s best we get you some new equipment before moving on.”

After about ten minutes with each weapon type, Luz never truly grasped how many kinds of foes she would likely encounter, not even of a magical nature. Bows, flails, the prior polearms, even shorter-ranged opponents with knives or daggers. A ten-minute break and a small dose from a healing potion toward the middle of the sessions prevents her from feeling burnt out, giving her muscles a much-needed rest, yet the training further helps her appreciate Commander Blights efforts and comprehend the toll her friend has gone through.

’No wonder she felt the need to fight so much. All these kinds of enemies, all these weapons that likely left scars,’ the princess thinks to herself, wiping her forehead. ‘…No, swordsmanship isn’t a game in war. Of course she’d want others to be ready!”

All throughout, praise for correct moves with criticism for negatives comes at a steady pace, keeping the Empress’s daughter motivated and determined all throughout. Nothing good will come from a lack of respect, each criticism taken to heart, each stance adjusted until she corrects herself in the middle of a regulated fight. Previously she had trouble properly withstanding a blow, but now she can protect herself should the worst come, much to her and her friend’s delight.

Before too long, the final test comes, and it’s then Amity finally raises her tree branch, making it clear what her next test is. It then makes sense to her why her teacher was previously training her while she was using a standard training sword.

”Some weapons are rather standard in weight, making it occasionally to defend against and even defend from. Even while difficult, you have a general idea how strong the blow you’re about to suffer may be,” Amity explains, keeping one hand on a training shield and the other around one end of the branch. “Others, however, will use a bigger or stronger weapon to uphold the advantage for them or their side, which is a strategy I’ve come to appreciate over the years. That is why you will deal with heavy weapons last, in this case a greatsword equivalent.”

Amity’s greatest strength is the very greatsword she hoists with her, her superior size and strength making it easy to wield as if it were a standard blade. The commander taps her shield three times before marching forward, her eyes narrow and keeping watch for needless harm. It doesn’t matter how long or how hard she trains her favorite human, she refuses to deal a needlessly-grievous wound while training.

WHAK

The first blow connects with Luz’s shield toward the front, which sends Luz staggering back. Her unfamiliarity with such force sends her to the ground, eyes wide with shock as she looks up at the commander, her golden eyes staring before she sets down the branch, giving her a hand to pull herself up with.

”I’d say to steel yourself, but it seems you’ve become too familiar with weaker blows. Your muscle mass is growing, and yet it means little unless you know where to focus it,” Amity further elaborates, patting her shoulder encouragingly. “That is why it’s best to prepare. If you can take on stronger opponents, you can deal with the weaker ones with greater ease. It’s a long, arduous process, but it’s one that’s most effective because it works.”

Luz nods along, the woman’s words absorbed as her hand releases, a soft sigh of discontent escaping the youngest Noceda’s lips. It felt nice being held by such a powerful woman, like nothing could hurt her or her companion, not even an entire invasion. She pushes aside such feelings for the time being; she still has training to do, she can reminisce and request for some physical touch, assuming it’s allowed, later.

The princess keeps close watch for her teacher’s swings, careful as she watches her swing with restrained might, this time prepared for the force of the branch’s blow. She staggers back like before, this time still standing as her teacher swings again, her attempt at dodging foiled by a collision with her opposite side. The speed of the strike sends her sprawling over the dirt-covered ground, groaning from the sting of the strike.

”I… I’m okay!” the youngest Noceda assures Commander Blight. “I just didn’t remember how fast you struck.”

”You’re certain?” her teacher questions, giving her a chance to stand once more. “Even with restraint, it looks like I’ve used too much force in that blow.”

”Armor,” the younger woman assures her, smiling as she points to the chainmail, standing once more. “I can take a few more hits. That and it feels nice knowing you care. It’s more proof you’re not the monster you think you are.”

The comment only briefly halts their session, Amity touched to hear such words once more.

Never before has training made Luz ache as much as it does now. She knew her teacher wants to ensure all her trainees are prepared for almost every conventional for she can think of, starting with being able to face those with other weapons, but part of her wonders whether or not Commander Blight has to do this. The thought is immediately quelled upon realizing she most likely has and does, just that at the end of the day the necessary parts are known, not so much the specifics.

As she downs her third mug of water, slightly spilling thanks to exhaustion and a desperation to quench her thirst, she feels as if she’s accomplished something greater. Everyday she trains, she comes closer toward becoming a suitable swordswoman and showing her favorite guard that she’s indeed something greater. She knows what she wants to protect, the human empire, but all the same she knows she can use it for something more. She knows what she could also defend, recalling a certain talk.

The commander downs another mug of water, having lost count after her fifth. She has seen her fair share of knights rise quickly, others going slower yet more thoroughly, but Luz happens to be her favorite all around. The princess refuses to simply be a diplomat, the outcome so far having been beneficial in the long run, watching her develop further than before, her muscles giving her greater strength, her agility greater, her refusal to back down almost inspirational. Her first proper friend has turned into something greater over time.

“It’s not often I’m to train someone into becoming a greater soldier, but you make things interesting. For my men, my greatsword usage allows me to keep ahead of multiple knights at once, and even then they require several minutes to stand should they suffer a proper blow. But you, someone who’s barely held a sword for a little over a month, have managed to stand and fight time and time again, prepared for another blow with little more than a wooden sword, a lightweight shield, and a set of armor below the standard. You fight for something, therefore you refuse to back down even when you know you stand little chance,” the elf admits with pride and impressed intrigue, her golden eyes no longer hardened. “So Luz, how do you feel becoming my favorite knight in decades?”

”Like my ribs will break if I breathe too hard, but accomplished,” the princess admits with stinging lungs and aching muscles, just glad an etiquette lesson isn’t required today. “Just knowing my training’s going well from one of the greatest fighters in the world confirms I’ll be able to protect.”

”Protect what?” the elven woman asks out of curiosity. “All knights seek to protect something, be it themselves, their people, their kingdom, or even an ideal. What is it you wish to protect?”

”The Noceda Empire for one. That one’s pretty obvious, and so is good people,” Luz rambles, feeling a blush creep along her face as she wipes herself off. “I’m gonna… grab some fresh clothes.”

”I see it in your eyes, however. There’s more you wish to protect than merely that,” Amity points out, unable to disguise her fascination. “There’s something more in your eyes. If you think that would bring you shame, then forget such a thing. Even I have selfish reasons, though if I’m pushing you, I can understand if you’d like to move on for now.”

The princess nods, appreciating the willingness to not spoil the surprise, if it can even be called that. Past or not, she has come to know the Amity in the present, not who she used to be. To go beyond such thoughts would spell disaster in one way or another, at least without a proper approach, even though she knows her guard has felt a desire to protect her as more than a soldier doing her job.

Little else has to be done aside from wash up and change for today’s events. To finally feel warm water wash away the grime and get to business for the day brings nothing but pleasant thoughts for both women, though as they approach their destination, a thought creeps into the human’s mind.

’…Luz, stop feeling that! You don’t even know if she’s that devoted!’ she scolds herself, feeling a flush creep across her cheeks. ‘Just… ask her. Afterwards, when you’re not in an awkward position!’

Soon they can have their discussion, whenever “soon” may arrive, though the fear of ruining a genuine friendship refuses to dissipate completely from Princess Luz’s subconscious.

Chapter Text

A full two months have passed since Commander Blight has taken up the rank of Commander, and in that time the Knights of Khelyria have proven themselves more than adequately. Each and every one of them has trained to defend against multiple forms of combatants and are prepared for their next step, morale is at an all-time high, and the Empress’s goals are as firm as ever. Only recently has an elven settlement in the Noceda Empire willingly accepted the cry for change, a brighter era upon the horizon.

As her men celebrate another month of sufficient training, their commander thinks back to her talk with her friend. All this time she’s been working to make her life meaningful beyond acting as a weapon, seeing her actions up to this point as preparing a shield. Princess Luz’s own training is about to take its own next step, something Empress Camila will no doubt be proud to hear, only for a wave of realization to hit her.

’…She doesn’t know. At most I’ve given her hints,” she realizes, shaking her head with disgust for herself. ‘No, there’s no point worrying about the past. Luz said it herself; you wouldn’t want to confess if you were the same monster as you once were.’

The youngest Noceda sleeps peacefully within her chambers as shifts change, a Lieutenant taking position as the higher-up heads straight for the Empress for a report. The elf knows she can’t stay silent about her fears forever, understanding that if she is to prove herself worthy of redemption, trust is key. Whether that trust will be returned is another problem altogether, accepting she can’t force others to see her as more, about to enter the throne room before hearing voices on the other side.

”You’re certain it’s them?” the Empress questions, her voice stern as she listens closely. “It’s not merely an associate or anything of the sort? You know the gravity of such an accusation, Marshal.”

”I know it looks bad, but if you have another theory, I’d love to hear it. This is the mark of Syndura, a mutual habitat of both Sunfires and humans,” Marshal Clawthorne states with certainty, holding up a belt with a buckle. “We both know who they’re associated with, which only leads to further concern their people would willingly ambush someone who has done nothing more than defend their home.”

”Lily, you of all people should know they’re basically harmless. We’ve lived there for fifty years and nothing came of it,” the Owl Lady assures her sister, putting a hand on her shoulder. “But yeah, maybe we should look further into the matter; the poor sap can’t take many more scares, and we can’t rely on one face alone for our investigation.”

The mention of such a location brings to Amity little more than dread, recalling her mother has had dealings within the past three years. Part of her wonders why a letter demanding a progress report hasn’t arrived in the mail, only to quell the thought; the mention of ambushers takes precedence. If there is any chance she may prove her loyalty, being mistaken for another monster will only hurt others in the long run, immediately knocking on the door, unwittingly silencing the conversation on the other side.

”We’d best speak of this at another time,” the human empress states, calling out, “Come in please.”

’…It’s now or never.’

She steps within, her tone grim as she turns to the Alchemist, asking, “Do you happen to know how to create a truth serum or some equivalent, Head Alchemist? There is something I must disclose with you all…”

A vial once filled with green liquid resides in Commander Blight’s hand as she explains everything, able to tell from her superior that they aren’t able to find any humor with her actions. She can tell they’ve had their suspicions, and having a number of them confirmed to some degree has no doubt shaken their trust in their soldier. The Moonshadow Elf understands such a sentiment, keeping herself collected as she provides all she has told their daughter, refusing to omit everything, hence the serum.

”…That is the story, Empress. There is no reason beyond confirming my loyalty for why I tell you this, I’ve told you nothing your daughter does not,” the commander confirms, refusing to turn away from her superiors. “Do with this as you must, I only plead that you understand nothing I say is with the intent of deception any longer. Consider this my confirmation of loyalty, that no matter what may come-“

”That’s enough, Blight.”

Amity silences herself immediately, the Marshal’s words akin to daggers as she approaches with a gold gleam, roaring, “You claim yourself loyal to our cause despite all of that?! You think a few meager words will wash the guilt of over a century of treachery and death?! You’ve said it yourself, you were nothing more than a hypocritical murderer who attained too much power, and yet you believe yourself worthy of-?!”

”Lily that’s enough!” Edalyn nearly shouts, pulling her sister back with a tug. “This is why she requested a truth serum, proof that she’s turned a new leaf. Doesn’t mean we should let her off easy, however.”

”And something tells me she doesn’t want let off easy. Commander,” Empress Camila questions with a raised eyebrow, “why do you choose now to confess to your many years of crimes?”

”Atonement. I’d do anything to prove my loyalty, Empress,” Amity confirms, her tone remaining resolute in relation with her decision. “I refuse to allow that of which I’ve taken to have been lost in vain, and I will accept any and all punishment you deem fit. As your Commander, it matters not if I train one or a hundred-thousand knights; it doesn’t erase what I’ve done. You’ve said that if I’m sincere, I will prove my atonement through actions; I accept the claim.”

The younger Clawthorne Sister nods along, recalling the first day she’s come across the Commander in-person. She knew the woman was hiding something, though nothing indicates anything less than the truth, leading her to want to see just what she’ll do to prove herself worthy of redemption. Her sister, however, isn’t entirely convinced, believing she has invited a traitor amongst her higher ranks, one who has committed treachery against both human and elven kind.

’…The serum. She speaks the truth,’ she recalls her sister saying, calming herself just enough to think clearly. ‘She wishes to atone, yes? Then let’s see her prove herself.’

”…You wish to prove your loyalty to our cause, to the Princess, and to the Empress?” Marshal Clawthorne questions, a hand around her weapon’s grip. “Then surely you’d be willing to go on a mission. Isn’t that right, Empress?”

The human ruler takes all she’s heard into account. A confession alone doesn’t absolve everything someone she’s met with open arms of their sins, but the fact she stands before her at all, all while swearing loyalty, even insisting upon a way of ensuring the truth shows something within the golden-eyed woman truly believes what she’s saying, as per her Alchemist’s words. The soldier is willing to do what it takes, and if she accepts any and all missions, then her military expert is right she should be willing to take hold of such a mission.

”…There is one thing you could do for a start. You see, we’ve been uncertain as to who has attacked my daughter and I or even why, and the only conclusive hints we have are that an elf assigned the mercenaries their job and that the one they hired wore this,” the ruler explains, holding up a symbol of a hawk with outstretched wings and talons ready to snatch something. “Do you recognize this symbol?”

Amity nods, indeed remembering the mark from her own experience, stating, “The outstretched wings are a sign of superiority against enemies, the talons as refusal to withstand any perceived slight. I remember seeing this emblem in Syndura, and I suspicions as to who might have sent those would-be assassins.”

”Who was it?” the Head Alchemist questions with intrigue. “You have a suspect, right? Out with it!”

‘Only one way to be sure…’

”…I suspect Odalia of the Blight Family to be related,” she states with a venom-filled voice before emphasizing, “I’ve seen what she’s willing to do, but I can’t incriminate her or anyone else without evidence. For all I know neither she nor an associate is involved to begin with.”

”Then it would be best if someone were to investigate. If there was indeed an overarching threat even in the short-term, then it’s only a matter of time before they send more mercenaries,” Camila notes, pointing her staff toward the elf before her. “Commander Blight, you are to travel to Syndura and investigate the source of the assassins, both to ensure the attack doesn’t become multiple and to prove your worth beyond acting as a weapon; I want the source of the attacks brought to me alive for interrogation. You leave in three days to make preparations. Do I make myself clear?”

Amity nods without a second thought. Atonement or not, someone tried to get two of the few people she likes killed without a hint of mercy. Someone must pay, be it with their possessions or their lives, for such acts of treachery.

Only once Commander Blight has left the room do the three highest-ranked members of the empire speak to one another once again.

”Empress, you’re sure we can trust her?” Lilith questions, trying to ensure there isn’t a mistake. “We know what she’s done and how far she would’ve gone. She’s told the princess before us, and apparently they’re bonding further than ever before!”

”It doesn’t matter if you’re human or elf, everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves worthy of redemption if they are sincere. Had she truly been a threat to us, she would have diminished the Royal Guard greatly as a result, instead we’ve seen efficiency at an unprecedented 400%,” Camila elaborates, still fond of the woman. “She came to me and admitted she’s not been innocent for a long time, though I admit it’s… disheartening learning just what she’s done.”

Eda holds up the empty vial, feeling proud seeing someone display such bravery, confirming with a grin, “I don’t like the truth either, but she was honest enough to insist drinking a truth serum. She specifically requested a dose, just to prove that whatever comes next, at least we’ll have one soldier on our side. That and something tells me a certain princess is starting to feel butterflies in her stomach.”

The comment doesn’t catch the attention of a now-uncertain Lilith but rather the Empress herself. She doesn’t recall such a reaction with Luz towards anyone in particular, not since Clara decided to “tease” her.

”What do you mean?” she asks out of curiosity.

”Oh come on, you didn’t notice how those two have been getting along? Just a little while ago they went into the garden and leaned on each other’s sides!” the silver-haired elf points out, grinning just thinking about the scene. “You of all people should know who the kid’s getting along with her a little too well, and… well, I think I know what got Boots to try redeeming herself.”

”Like one of the folktales,” the empress comments under her breath, starting to get an idea of what happened. “…No, at least not without proof. They’ve known each other for a couple of months at most, they can’t possibly have such feelings without at least talking about them.”

Lilith nods, having seen signs herself. The two get along too well, though given the account she’s heard, she must agree that Luz, on some level, seems to have reached her subordinate in some level. Whether that love is of a romantic sort, however, is something she is certain of, though it doesn’t seem they’ve acted on such urges just her.

All that the three of them can do is observe and wait to see exactly what happens next, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. Everything needed to be established has been made, and soon the culprits will either be dealt with or identified, or at least that’s the current intent.

Without a lead or a conclusive answer, preparing is all they can do for the time being.

Chapter Text

The three days of preparations are nearly complete, from the map to where she will camp for the night before reaching Syndura to potential hotspots to search. Even with a mission goal looming over her head, Commander Blight refuses to let her friend disregard her training, refusing to break her oath. Her desire for atonement is great, only relieved to know she can at least say goodbye before the day she leaves for roughly a week passes, both herself and her companion panting from exhaustion.

Princess Luz knows she can’t withstand too many attacks no matter how strong she tries to be, but that doesn’t mean winning against opponents like Amity isn’t impossible. Using her smaller size, she does her best to dodge whatever attacks are swinging too high or too low, often falling but never staying down. Her teacher is impressed, keeping her assault just strong enough to ensure she keeps trying, but never weakening as to prevent going easy on her. The longer the training goes on, the easier the techniques become and the more effective they turn out to be. It isn’t long until the green-haired witch comes to realize her own technique in landing a blow has simply become less effective toward a smaller target.

”You refuse to falter even with a seemingly insurmountable threat. Your joints ache, your breathing hurts, but you still persist,” the commander praises, her own lungs and arms starting to sting. “Impressive. I’m sure you’ll find yourself safe for the next seven days.”

”Yeah, but it just won’t be the same without you,” Luz comments, happy to know she’s still doing well but sad to know her friend’s trip is almost ready.

The youngest Noceda can’t be more proud of her best friend either. She has claimed a desire to prove her worth as a person and a member of the Knights of Khelyria, and her upcoming mission means she’s able to complete both at once. Never before has seeing her off hurt so much, however, knowing she must accept the risks, starting to understand of finding interest in those of a lower class, supposedly: the possibility of a vastly different future. Fortunately, it doesn’t mean something can’t be done until tomorrow.

”…Hey, since you’re going to be heading out soon, want to try anything in particular?” the commander’s friend asks with a hint of intrigue. “It doesn’t have to be big, just something that’ll boost your own morale. You did it for everyone else, why can’t you enjoy it too?”

”That won’t be necessary, Luz. Just knowing you’re safe is all the morale I need,” Amity replies with a degree of honesty, setting her mug aside. “It’s rare that I actually enjoy taking up a mission, and it’s even rarer said mission involves protecting my favorite people. And here you are, someone I’m happy to sacrifice my life for if need be.”

”Don’t say that, I’ll protect you too,” Luz argues, wiping her mouth from drinking so much water. “Everyone needs someone to protect them during some point in their lives, and you’re no different. If nobody helps you, how can you be sure you’ll complete your mission and your lifelong goal in the… well, long run?”

A smile creeps across the soldier’s lips from beneath her helmet, replying, “You simply refuse to let me go off without at least one day of spoiling, contrary to what I’m meant to do, right?”

”What gave it away?”

There’s very little that Luz can’t do thanks to her status as the Empress’s daughter, therefore she aims to find something that will give her friend some affection. The only things that come to mind are folktales and eating, but by now nearly all her known folktales have been read or discussed at one point or another, leaving one clear option. Her friend sits in one of the dining room seats, looking over toward the kitchen doorway with a mixture of curiosity and awe from the kindness being given to her in turn.

’She truly wants me to feel special. Even after… no, you’ve told yourself this before,’ she reminds herself, taking a slow breath to ease her nerves. ‘If she truly wants to do something for you, it’s best you wait until she-‘

“Amity?” she hears the princess calls out. “Can I see you for a moment please?”

’That’s my cue.’

She enters the kitchen, a refined room designed around a mixture of luxury and functionality. A blue ceiling above, arching across lighter blue walls connected via supports toward a white granite floor. Almost every surface, be it for cooking, chopping, storage, or cleaning, is made from the same material as the walls across the palace, a back door leading toward a freezer room filled with otherwise-easily expired foods. A small collection of stoves and ovens rests against the back walls, the right wall contains the sink where equipment is washed and counters made for ingredients to be prepared, and the middle set of counters along the back wall holds both cutlery and dishes, a pantry for bread and vegetables resting to the immediate left of it. A single chandelier of brass hangs above everything, a large window above the sink in the case smoke floods the room.

The princess is by the sink, before her a series of ingredients she has managed to gather but failed to make any immediate use out of. Saddened frustration is visible across her face as she looks over to her friend, almost disappointed in herself. None of the chefs or servers are anywhere in sight, either dismissed for the time being or having been transferred somewhere else for the time being.

”I know I said I wanted to do something for you, and I’m sorry. I just… kinda forgot I didn’t know how to cook,” she comments with a hint of embarrassment directed toward herself. “I guess that’s the price for living in luxury for so long, you know?”

”It’s quite alright. Not everyone understands cooking right away, so it’s best to practice with something simple to start out with,” Amity explains, looking over everything that has been taken out. “Hmm… Yes, I think this is everything we’ll need. How about I teach you to make something healthy yet comfortable for your taste buds, some stew?”

Luz isn’t sure whether or not the dish will taste good or that it will even turn out well, but it doesn’t mean she can’t at least try. A nod of her head confirms she’s ready, and so preparation of the ingredients begins.

There isn’t a lot Luz expected to happen as she gets out the needed utensils, a fresh pot prepared to boil once need be. What she doesn’t expect, however, is for her friend to get behind her to help her prepare the stew, remaining just behind her at all times. The princess remains quiet as she listens to her friend’s instructions all the while.

It’s then the youngest Noceda notices Commander Blights gauntlets are upon a nearby table, the elf’s pale, scarred hands cleaned off before getting to work. She can’t help but wonder what lies beneath the armor, to see who the elf that became a companion truly is beyond a soldier.

As they wash the ingredients, the commander cleaning up the beef for the pot, Luz mimics her movements and actions by preparing the carrots and celery, trying to understand her better. Sword training has shown her that direct interaction was an excellent teaching moment, which only motivates her to do her best. Amity admires how her best friend tries as much, only to notice how even with her best efforts, she scrubs too hard or chops too thinly, rendering the carrot or stalk too damaged for use.

”Hmm… Perhaps a more gentle hand would do you some good,” she comments with a more gentle tone than during training. “You don’t want to damage them or else the stew won’t absorb the flavor as well. Here, why don’t I show you what to do?”

A firm yet tender grasp along Luz’s own hands guides her toward the right action, each black-nailed digit pressing to ensure the princess doesn’t harm herself by accident. Washing is done with slight firmness to clear away the possible grime, but not so much that it damages the vegetable itself. The human makes sure to curl her fingers just enough so she refrains from cutting her fingers while preparing a celery stalk, touched by her friend’s kindness.

’See? You’re not a monster. You care this much,’ she comments internally. ‘…Wow your hands are soft.’

She disregards the thought for the moment, surprised her thoughts wandered as far as they have. Taking into account what the Paladin has instructed, she chops up a carrot next, slowly yet thoroughly cutting into small yet fairly-sized chunks until only the top remains intact. Only then does the knight use her own knife to slide the pieces in with the rest of their cut-up counterparts, moving onto the beef.

”Good job. See? You are able to cook, you just need someone to teach you how,” the older woman praises, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, only briefly noticing, ‘…Bronze skin this delicate and soft…’

Seasoning of the beef is completed before the meat is dumped into the pot, giving Amity a chance to notice how Luz reacts to the touch. A blush has begun to creep across her cheeks, the tan woman’s eyes refusing to look up as she subtly squirms in place. She can’t even think clearly, though she doesn’t pull away.

”…Luz, am I disturbing you in some way?” the youngest Blight notes softly, worried.

”No! No, of course not,” the princess replies too quickly despite the sincerity. “I just… it’s the first time I’ve been held onto you like this.”

To Commander Blight, she sees no reason to feel concerned, pulling away to gather up several potatoes for the final steps. All she’s done is help Luz learn how to cook, only to grow more flustered by the second the second she needs help. Even so, she can tell being instructed appears to garner a positive response from her friend, proof that her teaching her student how to prepare a simple dish has yielded positive results, and it’s only then she comes to a realization, one that will either benefit or hurt both of them.

’There’s no point trying to deny it,’ she concludes, looking over the carrots and celery, grabbing a potato. ‘You need to ask her, even if it hurts.’

”…Luz, are you attracted to me?” she asks in a much more tender tone, refusing to seem accusatory. “I’ve noticed several signs of attraction is all, and I refuse to allow for… you know, a lack of closure.”

It takes Luz a second to respond, carefully washing up a potato in tandem with her protector, before replying, “Yeah. I mean, I know I haven’t seen your face and so I don’t even know what your hair color is, but you’re still the one who became my friend and proved you’re not beyond redemption. Some part of me has wondered what’s under that helmet, but I… really don’t care if you’re even attractive or unattractive to anyone; you’re still Amity.”

The comment almost makes the armored woman spill the chopped ingredients, pouring them into the pot and occasionally stirring to prevent burning. A small degree of liquid forms along the bottom, several spices added from above as she proceeds to start chopping a potato.

”That, alongside your faith in me, is among the kindest things I’ve ever heard,” Amity can’t help but pause as she comments, touched. “Now… let’s get back to cooking, before we become too flustered to think clearly.”

Luz nods silently, her blush refusing to disappear as they get back to work, occasionally stirring the stew pot,

The cooking process took far longer than Luz expected, giving her a chance to truly appreciate the chefs who have prepared meals not just for her family, but for the soldiers who come and go. Part of her wants to get them a raise, something to show their efforts truly were appreciated, having never thought making a simple stew would take effort. However, she now sees the worth of preparing a meal on one’s own, feeling as if she’s accomplished something small yet meaningful.

The stew is ready at last, and never before has something with so few base ingredients appeared so appealing to the young human.

Before both the princess and the commander, sat beside each other, rests a single bowl of the stew, straight from the pot and seasoned properly, said pot resting in front of them in case their appetites aren’t sated. The former is hesitant to taste, the latter watching intently, wanting her friend to taste the treat she aided in preparing. It’s the least she feels the princess deserves, the elf’s gauntlets back on as she watches her friend pick up her spoon and scoop up a piece of carrot and celery along with a small portion of broth.

”…I did make it right, right?” Luz asks with hesitance, trying to ensure she didn’t screw up the recipe. “Swordsmanship and cooking aren’t exactly the same thing.”

”No two tasters will enjoy the same foods the same way. No two swordsmen will have the same strengths no matter how well they train in the same arts. No two royals will have the same political stance despite being on the same side,” Amity comments with encouragement, grabbing the back of her helmet. “There will always be something that someone disagrees with, no matter what one may try to deny. However, I’m confident that you helped make this stew properly, and I’m more than certain this stew will taste amazing. It helps that it takes at least one screw-up to truly become good at cooking, even for the world-renowned.”

The princess finally takes a bite, taking a moment to savor the flavors as she chews, pausing before chewing some more, and finally swallowing. She doesn’t recall a single time where she’s enjoyed vegetables, no matter how many she’s crammed into her mouth, but for once it feels easy letting them slide down her throat. The broth especially appealed to her, seasoned just right, a mixture of savory yet delicate, enough to make her want more.

”…This might be the best stew I’ve ever had,” she murmurs, surprised by the result as she gathers up a potato piece. “How did you do it?”

”Practice. It’s the first thing I’ve ever made, and it feels nice knowing the end result wasn’t just a personal preference. And… I was hungry one day,” Commander Blight comments, a clink heard as she sighs with a sense of tranquility. “Admittedly it’s simple reasoning, but some things aren’t as deep as one may think. Now then, why don’t we enjoy the meal?”

thunk

Luz’s chewing comes to a halt upon spotting the helmet in front of her friend, looking up to realize she’s come to show her face just to enjoy some stew. Her familiar golden eyes are accompanied by her pale, almost ivory-colored skin, without a single visible mark, contrasting what parts of her body were visible prior. The elf’s mint-green hair appears it would reach her neck, curled up into a neat knot to prevent chafing from beneath her helmet, small highlights of brown suggesting the color to have been given to her artificially.

However, what she notices the most are still her eyes, specifically the bags beneath them, impossible to truly hide. The best word Luz can use to describe her demeanor, combined with such a detail, would be “exhausted”, feeling it to be appropriate given everything she knows about her thus far. Fortunately such exhaustion is balanced out, at least partially, by taking a bite of the stew, her stern posture slightly slumping from a mere taste of the stew.

”…You’re staring, Luz. You don’t want your stew getting cold,” she comments with a subtle smile. “I suggest saying what’s on your mind while you eat.”

The flustered princess nods, taking another bite from the stew, this time of tender beef, before replying, “Sorry, I just… haven’t seen your face before. You’re…”

She can’t get the word out. Beautiful. Amity is beautiful in her eyes, and she can’t muster up the courage to say such a simple word. The youngest Blight can tell from her flustered speech to her hesitance to mutter a single word that her friend is sincere about her affection and feelings, unable to hide her smile as she continues to eat. For once, the one seeing who she is behind the helmet feels just right, glad to know the one who motivates her to change for the better sees her not as a freak.

It reminds her that she has more to fight for than herself. There’s more to simply defending the Noceda Empire than atonement, her main objective, and here she is, seated beside her as they prepare to truly separate for the first time in months. If she’s going to leave for a minimum of a week, the least she can do is make the send-off a pleasant one, holding up a spoonful of stew in her hands before pressing it to her companion’s lips.

”W-What are you doing?” Luz whispers, her face a deep shade of pink.

”Rewarding your efforts. You’ve shown your willingness to see me atone, even after all I’ve done. You’ve proven yourself worthy of becoming a swordswoman. You’ve even motivated me to become more than a commander among your empire’s ranks,” the soldier comments, her fondness impossible to hide, her affection sincere. “The least I can do before leaving on my mission is show that I… love you. You’re not doing any of this for anyone, you want to help and see the good in others because you feel like it, and I’m unsure how else to show that all your effort has been more than worthwhile on a grander scale.”

Several seconds pass as Amity processes what she just said and has done, her entire face turning a light pink before quickly adding, “Assuming you’re okay with this, of course. I just… don’t want your stew getting cold.”

Luz can’t help but return a smile of her own, slowly taking a bite, happy to spend one more day before their separation.

Chapter Text

Something of trivial knowledge to the people of Xadia is that not all elf types have the same advantages. Almost all are capable of utilizing all magic types given enough practice and experience, but advantages are given to those within an appropriate environment determined by what their bloodline genetically insists upon. Those of Moonshadow descent, for instance, possess greater strength and agility whenever the moon has risen, allowing for them to ward off even the mightiest foes.

Commander Blight is aware of her heritage, unwilling to allow for her mare to suffer the brunt of what’s to come in the near future. Ghost IV has been with her for a comparably scant 10 years, her bloodline having persisted this long aiding her on her missions. Part of her wonders whether her dear Star-Eyed Clydesdale is helping her out of loyalty or out of necessity, her swift trotting allowing for her and her passenger to head due east toward the continent’s main border.

”Don’t force yourself, Ghost,” she warns her mare. “The last thing we need is for you to tire yourself out, we’re already ahead of schedule.”

Ghost glances back briefly to show her acknowledgement before returning to work, Amity occasionally taking the time to scritch her fur. She doesn’t remember being anything more than a villain, but not a single memory of treating the white-furred equine’s predecessors has sprung up. They didn’t do anything wrong, having merely done what they were trained and told to do, which leads her to mentally kick herself.

’…It’s not too late to show she matters,’ she recalls with a small hint of encouragement. ‘Heroics or not, she’s been with me for all her life.’

The commander reaches into her saddlebag and pulls out a Star Apple, colored a tint of green glistening in the moonlight. She wastes no time pulling the reigns to slow the horse down before presenting the treat within her line of sight.

”I said not to rush, girl. Here,” she encourages, holding up the apple. “You need to keep your strength up.”

A small gleam of appreciation flashes in Ghost’s eyes as she heeds her rider’s advice, halting long enough for her to step down and feed her the mildly-sweet fruit. It’s rare she’s fed such delights beyond hay or oats, leading Amity’s horse to briefly nuzzle, unable to think of another way to display her gratitude. The elf can’t help but smile from beneath her helmet, giving small scratches along her fur to show the affection is mutual.

The brief break was apparently what both the horse and her rider needed, a brisk, steady gallop eastward resulting in them passing where they were meant to stop by several miles. At the rate their brief journey has gone, with the lack of interruption and no immediate threats, Amity suspects they’ll make it to Syndura by the end of the second day. For now, however, they need to conserve energy; even those adept to the night need their rest every now and then, finding themselves beneath a tree in a nearby grotto.

Only once the lack of danger becomes apparent does Commander Blight reign her friend to a thin tree, needing her mare at her best for what’s to come. It’s then exhaustion from a long day and a pleasant treat brings the both of them close to slumber, the commander placing her napsack beside Ghost. Dwelling will bring neither sleep nor comfort, the elf taking the time to look up toward the sky to observe the stars, feeling herself grow at ease.

Part of Amity wonders whether her brother and sister are able to witness such simple beauty as the stars above despite their own jobs. Maybe they can experience the view themselves together, away from the madness of the continent’s tensions, and perhaps then she could introduce them to Luz. Her thoughts soon wander toward whether her father would accept the human princess, just knowing he wants her to choose what her path in life would become. She knows it’s a somewhat simple, possibly even immature, way of seeing things, but at least then both parts of her life would connect and truly begin to bond.

It’s only she realizes her thoughts refuse to part from Luz entirely. Even without having seen her all night, her desire to see her has become impossible to ignore, her mission alone ensuring her return will lead to a fruitful outcome. The first people to see her as worthy of redemption deserve at least seeing her give an earnest effort, the desire to see her princess smile leading her to mentally wander further.

’…This is the first time I’ve been away from her in months,’ she realizes, feeling almost solemn knowing she has a duty to attend before shaking the thought. ‘No, there’s still plenty of time to catch up later on. Once you find the mercenaries’ superior, you can return home with proof your desire for atonement is genuine. Words mean little without proof, and you will give them the proof they deserve!’

She knows such words to be true. Commander Blight has been a puppet soldier for three years and many more as a tool for her mother’s whims. Nothing she can do can bring back the many who have fallen thanks to her, but there’s still a chance to prevent more from dying for the sake of extremism. The crooks’ contractor will be caught and brought to justice if she has to search every bush and building in all of Syndura, her desire to appease those she cares for preventing her from wanting to take more extreme measures.

’They would not approve,’ she reminds herself, recalling the Empress’s words and Luz’s claims. ‘Peace cannot come through brute force. She wants peace through setting an example… but we can’t fool ourselves into thinking pacifism alone will win the day.’

Only then do Amity’s thoughts quiet down as she falls asleep at last, more than prepared to complete her objective once she arrives.

Odalia has waited for over two months for Amity’s report and yet only word of her arrival has reached her ears. She should have at least a basic understanding of how the Knights of Khelyria should be operating, or at least confirmation that preparations for what’s to come are underway. Even her husband has been oddly silent, though his refusal to work past a certain point makes it clear that whatever she’s been trying, it’s starting to fail. Her grasp on the situation is starting to falter, three long years of boot-licking are coming to a waste unless her youngest reports to her somehow.

’That ungrateful brat! I gave her everything she has now, and now she believes she’s too good to so much as respect her mother?!’ Mrs. Blight seethes, her fingers wrapping along the top of her desk. ‘Your grace period has finally come to an end, “princess”! You won’t steal what’s rightfully mine!’

If Commander Blight refuses to respond to any of her letters, then a more direct approach may be necessary. Preparation to visit the kingdom has begun for her, requiring no less than four days to ensure not even Marshall Clawthorne can track her down. It’s only a matter of time before the plan to usurp control from the Empress comes to light no matter how intensely it may be hidden, recalling the last time a high-standing member of Khelyria learned of her goals. The green-haired woman briefly clutches her side, remembering the physical results of her initial strategy failing.

‘No, it’s best I don’t rush forward without cause,’ she remembers, trying to keep herself calm. ‘Even on the off-chance they know of our plan, we can’t play our hand without our associates’ aid. We may as well light a match over a barrel of alcohol, a loathsome time for anyone nearby. It likely wouldn’t even be of high quality, that miserable batch.’

The plan is still underway so long as her most important pawn manages to woo the princess. Maybe it’s foolish to believe they’ll get along so well that dating already becomes an option, the matriarch more than willing to wait several more years if it means ensuring the overarching plan takes hold; it would be foolish in her eyes to throw away an asset without cause. The silence, however, leads the elf to ponder just why a lack of a proper report has been the case.

’I would’ve received notice that Amity was caught, the assassins have done their job and thus trust has been established,’ the noble rattles off, keeping herself as composed as she can muster. ‘What is delaying her so severely?’

Few ideas come to mind where Odalia can imagine her youngest failing to report on a monthly basis. She knows what the worst of the possibilities may be, hoping that at best something has merely gotten in the way or that the elven commander has been rendered incapable. Even so, she refuses to disregard one last possibility, the lack of evidence for one manner or another leading the matriarch to come to several what-if scenarios.

Preparing for the trip is all she can do for the time being, intent on inflicting a proportionate punishment for each day past her asset’s monthly report.

Chapter Text

Several lieutenants watch over Princess Luz as she watches the soldiers below train, donned in training armor but seeming less motivated than she’s been nearly everyday prior. Several of the captains will be training with her until Commander Blight returns, a couple of the finer soldiers Khelyria has had trained in recent years, though it has done little to cheer the princess up.

Luz is still saddened knowing Amity has left, mission or not. On one hand, knowing she’s been given the chance to prove her worth brings her a sense of peace, assurance her family sees her friend as more than a freak who deserves a second chance. A selfish part of her wanted to see her stay for just a little longer, having not been truly away from the commander for over two months, beginning to truly see the value of having someone like her nearby at all times.

The lieutenants check the time, one of them warning her, “Princess, it’s time for training.”

All Luz does is nod before following her guards to training, unable to take her mind off Amity, just hoping for something to prevent her from shutting down, even by accident.

Each of Luz’s current teachers has a different weapon as they begin training, one with a training spear and the other with a training dagger. They approach her from different sides, and thus showing Amity has trained them more than well enough, not once giving the princess a chance to strike back more than once before countering. It’s then that Luz understands something her teacher has not yet taught her.

”You’ve done well, princess, but no amount of proficiency will protect you from multiple opponents at once,” the dagger-wielder boasts.

”Commander Blight seems to have been great showing you how to protect yourself, though that doesn’t mean she’s taught you everything yet,” the spear-wielder informs her, helping her stand before immediately getting back into stance. “Now try again, this time don’t lose focus.”

The disadvantage becomes more apparent as an increasingly-frustrated Luz listens and swings, never once managing to take one Lieutenant down without the other taking advantage of the distraction. She wouldn’t mind if she were given tips on how to protect herself, but no amount of waiting yields her what she needs. Each time she falls, both appear gleeful knowing they’ve taken down Amity’s favorite student once again, never faltering with their blows, always keeping themselves protected as if in genuine combat.

”No, you need to focus!”

”That strike leaves you vulnerable!”

”What if there was more than us? You won’t be offered mercy!”

”Princess, you certainly have been taught how to defend yourself against multiple foes, right?”

The youngest Noceda knows the soldiers to be correct, she hasn’t been able to focus on numerous targets prior to meeting them, but not once has she been actively helped. She knows what needs fixed, she knows what must change, she even has tried to follow their instructions, but not once has she been informed or taught how to improve or what should be fixed. All she knows is that every step she takes forward, she is pushed back just as hard, preventing any leeway in her training.

By the time the session ends, the only things she can say she’s learned are that she learned better with Amity and that she doesn’t know how to complete her training without her. She forces herself not to shed tears, knowing what she’s signed up for, understanding fully what the Knights of Khelyria are preparing for, grumbling as she drinks what feels like ten entire mugs of water. All the while, she can hear the two lieutenants across the training field boasting about their success in training her, suspecting the commander would be proud. Luz firmly refuses to accept such claims, knowing there’s a difference between learning and teaching, and they should know it.

‘…No, don’t blame them. They were given a job and did the best they could,’ she tries to remind herself, wiping at her eyes. ‘The hour’s up. Heal up, change, and… find something to do.’

The princess has only managed to find one thing to do, sit in the dining room and read folktales on Good Sorceress Azura. Never before has time felt like it has slowed down from her perspective until when after what felt like an hour, she looks up to find only about 15 minutes have passed; not even lunchtime. Her groan echoes throughout the room as she drops her head to the table, a resounding thud sounding out as the doors open, a familiar pale hand resting on her shoulder.

”Looks like Boots left an impression on you. I haven’t seen you this grumpy since the day you broke off your relation with Clara,” Eda comments with jest, only to feel concern as Luz barely nods. “…Hey, you okay?”

”I feel fine, but it doesn’t feel right. I think some part of me thought I’d be fine, I’ve been without Amity my whole life, friend or not,” the human explains even with her face down, trying to cool off, her tone suggesting frustration and confusion. “Now I just feel sluggish, and it’s like time itself is slowing down just to taunt me. Have you ever felt that before?”

A small chuckle follows as the Head Alchemist confirms, “Once or twice when I was younger, more than once during my time before becoming the Head Alchemist, nepotism and all that. Besides, it seems like you fell for the commander, and you fell for her hard.”

Luz freezes, having told nobody about such a thing before. Part of her wonders whether it was obvious or not, briefly squirming as she looks up with a small blush, still processing what she was told, only for the teasing to continue.

”Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t felt lonely since she’s been gone,” the Owl Lady teases, smirking as Luz begins to pout. “It’s cute, really. Just don’t rush into things before you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with her.”

The princess needs no further elaboration, understanding such a sentiment and showing as such with a nod. As much as a fairy tale-style relationship would be nice, it’s ultimately just that, a story with little basis in reality as she knows it. It doesn’t mean what she’s felt around her favorite soldier doesn’t seem to be akin to a story all on its own, however, knowing what she felt yesterday. She keeps in mind the Head Alchemist’s words though, understanding she can’t simply fall for what might be a fling, accepting she must accept she and her companion just might be friends, assuming they pursue something deeper.

”…Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” she agrees, now filled with cautious optimism. “She’ll be back soon anyway, and then we can talk about it more.”

”That’s the spirit,” the elven woman praises, briefly patting her daughter figure on the head.

Luz doesn’t feel like much has been done, but having someone to discuss her feelings has given her a chance to organize her thoughts. Now she knows what can be done, though the fact she must still wait ensures she can prevent a misunderstanding in the long run, perhaps plan to ask Amity on what must be done or what to do next. If they’re going to ensure love and trust with one another, the least they should do is discuss what they are to one another.

All Eda hopes is that no matter what happens next, Luz remains Luz and that Amity continues to remain a loving, atoning woman. It will take time for her crimes to have been paid for, but at least she’s free to do something good rather than rotting in a cell doing nothing.

It doesn’t matter what one tries or how long one refuses to cause harm for their people; every faction has someone who wishes for a either a new or old system to be established or re-established. Such people are willing to do almost anything for their own beliefs and for those like them, refusing to accept change, prepared to commit atrocities for even a hope of their desired changes.

A team of three would-be ”martyrs” keep watch from beyond the Khelyria Palace walls, aiming for a specific objective: Princess Luz, a bargaining chip. They know the price for taking her life, but if they want to ensure humanity returns to war, something must occur to provoke the Empress into war. All they need to do is wait for an opening, even a brief blind spot in security, but months of a certain commander remaining on edge at all hours has rendered such a plan impossible.

Only the knowledge that Commander Blight has left for parts unknown has bolstered their confidence, the juggernaut unable to prevent the loss of her favorite human. Patrol shift changes are made at 12 PM, allowing the kidnappers a chance to sneak in, using a sleep potion against their guards and don themselves in armor. They’ll do anything to allow their kind to thrive, even if it means rendering some of their own inactive for the time being.

’You’ll thank us later,’ one of them assumes, fastening a helmet over his face. ‘We’ll be back to our roots in no time.’

The false guards keep within their routes, keeping an eye out for the princess or any signs of her. The least they can do is ensure they know where to search, refusing to speak unless spoken to lest they blow their cover; too many questions will raise suspicion. Each long hall and every one of the many rooms within the palace only encourages the three to search longer and harder, refusing to stop hunting for the key to returning the empire to its roots.

Only once 1 PM rolls around does a fake knight spot a familiar girl in purple-and-white garments roam the halls, a pair of Lieutenants keeping watch at all times. Her location is relayed the second she’s spotted, alerting the others to her location, thus preparing the gear needed to whisk her away.

”I take it patrol has been kind to you?” the spear-wielding Lieutenant questions half-heartedly, not suspecting anything out of the ordinary. “The princess is safe and sound, rest assured.”

Luz isn’t so easily convinced, noticing how the guard seems to refuse making any noise. The armor seems ill-fitting, as if too large around his body, keeping her distance upon spotting his hand reach for his sword. Only then do the guards draw spear and sword, refusing to let the princess face real harm, even as a joke, aware of the price for failure.

”What do you think you’re doing?! Is this some kind of prank?!” questions the dagger-wielder, reaching to draw his dagger, the false guard remaining silent. “Say something, damnit!”

The other kidnappers finally emerge, their own blades drawn as they approach from around the corner behind their ally. Two armed guards and the princess against three enemies seems to easy to the trio, more than prepared to inflict the sleep concoction on their fellow humans.

The target, however, refuses to back down as the Lieutenants keep between their foes and the Empress’s most prized treasure. She reaches for a sturdy suit of armor’s sword, heavier than she’s accustomed to, before joining her guards in battle; she may not be used to fighting more than one opponent, but backing up her guardians, in her own eyes, should even the odds pitted against them.

The spearman manages to pierce one crook's armor, drawing blood before pulling back, drawing attention away from the princess for the time being. His dagger-wielding companion keeps between himself and another guardsman, his lighter blades allowing him to slide between his foe's plating. Even the princess refuses to allow for her enemies to succeed, using her full might to swing downward toward her enemy, the clash against his shield piercing the air, no doubt alerting all within earshot.

Each Khelyrian's tactics give them an advantage regardless of their weapon, be it distance with chestplate-piercing spear tips or lighter weapons for more elaborate strikes, prevents the Lieutenants from falling so easily. Their objective is to defend the princess, and that is exactly what they'll do, leaving the last for their princess to fight off. Her experience with Amity allows her to defend herself from every blow her way, the strikes against her defended against via the stronger sword. The ambush slowly loses steam the second Luz aims for her would-be kidnapper's knee, staggering him, before drawing blood upon his side.

‘This wasn’t part of the deal!’

’What did the commander do to her?!’

’We need to leave, more guards will be coming soon!’

None of them are given the chance to retreat. The lack of focus is all that’s needed for the princess and her guards to finally deal a stab to one’s side and inflict a dagger wound in the last, giving the trio a chance to finally apprehend the would-be kidnappers.

Word of the intruders’ actions don’t go unnoticed for even another five minutes. Marshal Clawthorne had to be restrained by her sister just to prevent the dungeon from being deep-cleaned, and three new cells are finally in use, much to the Head Alchemist’s delight. The Empress herself is impressed knowing that not only have the guards done their best and shown their loyalty, thus granting them a bonus in the form of money, but Commander Blight’s efforts to prepare her daughter have not only been warranted, but were useful.

Part of Luz knows she shouldn’t feel too proud having wounded a man and aided in the injuries of two others, but she can’t help but feel proud nonetheless. She has proven that her swordsmanship is adequate to some degree even outside of training, even helping in fending off a trio of would-be assailants without the need for further aid. Camila, in turn, is unable to stop hugging her youngest despite her groans and protest, teary-eyed as she mentally praises the elven soldier who protected her child even beyond the palace. Her daughter has even shown that not only is she ready for combat, she is more than able to rule once the time is right.

‘…Hopefully Amity’s doing alright,’ Luz hopes before mentally groaning, ‘because Mamá’s not leaving my side for a while.’

Chapter Text

A single town, just along the border, is surrounded by craters and half-dead foliage, scavengers prowling for their next meal. Rusted, damaged weapons lie everywhere, both of mechanical and magical nature, a sign both humans and elves have fought and died here, crumbling ruins and destroyed buildings confirming the land was once a home. Amity looks away upon spotting a familiar banner, truly grasping the weight of the millennia of conflict, seeing more parts as to why peace would be a preferable option. The fact a certain town is the only settlement for at least a day by horseback.

'...Once the ceasefire yields peace, ruins won't litter the rest of our territories,' she concludes, walking beside Ghost IV. 'It will be a long time before you truly atone for what you've done, but preventing another of... these, will be worth more than a thousand wars.'

Just as expected, it took almost two full days of travel to finally make it to Syndura, what she can best describe as false neutral ground. The night allows for night-sensitive street lamps to illuminate their crystals, providing light for the denizens of the small town. Only a select number of people, be it human soldiers or Moonshadow Elves, remain outside at such a late hour, the latter sometimes accompanied by nocturnal mounts. Several passersby notice the Khelyrian Commander, paying the rider no heed, not recognizing her thanks to her armor.

'...You have funds, we need an inn and a stable, maybe a pole, something to keep track of Ghost.’

Her search for proper lodging leads to further discoveries, including sites where new homes and shelters will be implemented, marked by Camila’s own signature. Several more buildings appear to, however, hang human-only and elf-only signs, more proof tension has remained after all this time, the bounties of both races’ criminals across bounty boards.

It isn’t long before Commander Blight realizes she has to swallow her pride and take a seat in an elf-only lodge, looking around to find varying opinions. One vocal minority, preparing to rest for the night, demands the human inhabitants leave and never return despite Syndura being within the human half of the continent while the other refuses to acknowledge the elves. A large neutral simply remains silent, suspicion within their eyes as they witness any and every man, woman, and child around them. Nobody is sure who to trust, much less approach.

’They’re scared for what may come next,’ the green-haired elf realizes, understanding the simple motivation. ‘Of course they’re scared. Change doesn’t always mean something good, no matter how hard we try to deny it.’

Pondering such things won’t do any good, the commander simply purchasing a room to sleep and a stall for Ghost for the next several nights, prepared to spend more next time if need be. Opinions or not, there is still a mission to complete, and worrying about others’ fears won’t bring her any closer tonight.

Daytime in Syndura does little to calm Commander Blight's nerves, witnessing the town her mother has chosen to visit at least once before. The people don't show open distrust, but the clear refusal for elves and humans to interact with one another is clearer than ever. Only a few of Khelyria's people, be it visitors or knights on duty, willingly speak beyond "their" kind, but it does little to drown out the discontent. Even shops are barely running, with nearby soldiers positioned to prevent unneeded rivalries from turning violent or for policies to go awry, something she knows she can't let herself become distracted by.

Ghost, on the other hand, spots a stand selling produce, with Star Apples in particular catching her eye. The normally-nocturnal mare licks her lips at the sight, nudging her rider toward the stand, much to her chagrin.

"Not right now. We came to find our culprit and then we're heading straight home," she reminds her friend, slightly annoyed but refusing to let it ruin the day.

A snort from the mare, eager for treats, refuses to leave just yet, briefly startling the merchant before Amity compromises by suggesting, "I'll get you an apple or two if you focus. I'm not going to just spoil you, but don't expect to be punished for being... well, non-bipedal."

The compromise is more than satisfactory in Ghost's eyes, pulling away as Amity apologizes, the merchant stating it's okay. Amity wonders whether either her rank or her stature prevents any sort of vitriolic response, only to quell the idea, only glad the minor situation didn't escalate. She hops back onto her companion's back before patrolling about, aiming to at least get a better look around, hopefully finding anything or anyone that stands out.

More of the same is all she sees, though small gatherings of both elves and humans can be seen about once every couple of streets. Be it children playing or adults chatting with one another, a reminder of what the future may hold brings a little bit of optimism to the jaded woman's heart and mind. Syndura may be damaged, yet people learning to just communicate prevents the town from dying outright. It motivates the Paladin to search harder, refusing to let her empire's cause fall to meaningless malice.

'Whoever possesses that emblem likely wouldn't want to show their face to the public,' the golden-eyed woman rationalizes, spotting nobody within sight. '...Perhaps they chose to ditch the emblem or simply hide it, however...'

The other idea that comes to her mind is a variety of witnesses. With the assassination attempt no doubt having spread across the human half of Xadia, there's no question in Amity's mind that the culprits went into hiding. It doesn't mean they're gone or that they ran off, though if they indeed have, it only means there will be more opportunities to figure out exactly what her enemy is up to and why. Her next objective begins, pulling out a sketch of the hawk to emphasize her point.

Results were mostly negligible, with the majority of those she meets immediately turning away or demanding the commander stay away from them. Even those who refuse to look at the sketch are hesitant to say anything, peering over their shoulders at the mere mention of the contractor's actions. Several are either mortified and yield no concrete leads or even praise the would-be assassins, making it clear they want anything to happen, the tension leaving most with dread. Fortunately, a few locals are willing to part a bit of information, albeit not for free given "safety concerns", Amity beginning to understand her target isn't a one-shot criminal.

"Oh, that one. Any attempts at cashing a bounty on them have failed and failed hard; we don't even have an appearance on them," a human woman explains with hesitance, peering in all directions. "Just don't bring them up in public next time; you might get someone killed. Just a word of advice if you want to see your family again..."

"You probably want to head toward the fancier part of town. You know, the parts where buildings aren't crumbling," a wingless Skywing Elf replies whilst fidgeting with several gold coins. "Given the dealings, it would be a surprise if they went to the slums. No point scavenging when money's almost literally falling into your lap, you know?"

Amity can't lie to herself; she is certain that her mother is involved with the assassination attempt in one way or another. She has the motive, the opportunity, the resources, and reason to lose should the plan fail, alongside a hatred for the Royal Family thanks to differing views. The youngest Blight can understand setting up a secondary or even a tertiary plan in the case her least violent plan, marriage, goes awry, what with her lack of response in the past couple of months, though one detail doesn't make sense to the matriarch's daughter.

'...Why would she send mercenaries after them while I was still tasked with protecting them?' she ponders, noticing holes in the plan. 'One moment she wishes that I get along with the Princess, and the next she sends someone after her and the Empress? This...'

It simply makes no direct sense in her eyes, starting to believe her lack of a direct response may have contributed to the attempt on their lives. She shakes the thought away as she finally reaches the heart of Syndura, the higher-class district, the buildings appearing to have recently been constructed and shops flowing with higher-quality goods. Equipment, weapons, proper meals rather than ingredients, even several shops advertising "services", the people more divided than ever and their statuses, be it real or perceived, now on full display. Only the increasingly rare sights of those of differing races chatting or laughing with one another confirms even those of a higher class see no point holding a grudge against a species, further evidence coexistence is not impossible.

Such camaraderie catches the commander's attention more so than before, however, noticing how roughly a third of the observed appear hushed as they speak amongst one another. Several point further into the district, the occasional man or woman heading in such a direction, especially noting how even despite their hushed whispers, the third actively avoids guardsmen of either species' descent. Amity refuses to allow such suspicion to go unnoticed, needing whatever leads she can get, hopping off Ghost to ensure she doesn't draw any attention.

"Head back to the lodge. Don't draw any attention to yourself," she instructs the mare, holding up a Star Apple. "Do that and I'll reward you; you'll need all the energy you can get for what may come next."

The Star-Eyed Clydesdale nods as she gallops out of view, going into a nearby alley to heed her handler's orders, Amity only returning to work once she can't see her horse. Commander Blight remains silent as she trails the separated members of the crowds, using the discussions and murmurs to drown out her own smaller noises, one hand near her sword's grip at all times. She remains uncertain whether or not her hypothesis is correct, only aware her target is wealthy and likely prefers staying out of sight, keeping a watch out for anyone entering a building. Her method of tracking the suspicious, however comes to a single snag.

She came alone, making the ability to keep watch over all of the wanderers impossible, much to her chagrin, especially with how and where they travel. All of them refuse to be tracked even by proxy, taking sharp turns or even using illusion spells to prevent them from being spotted. Several remain near guards to lower suspicion, further frustrating the commander as her leads toward her target grow fewer and farther between, forcing herself to keep watch over the least subtle of the lot. A human hunter in leather leggings and a chainmail chest piece make her stand out in her hunter's eyes, her intrigue growing further as the suspect reaches a two-story home.

A sky-blue roof and cloud-white walls catch the soldier's eyes immediately, two windows leading to the attic just above multiple balconies. From where she stands, she spots two main doors alongside what appears to be an entrance to a stable, as if the house were specifically designed to be easy to enter and exit. Three smokeless chimneys reside atop the structure, indicating the inside possesses more than merely a few belongings, the scent of watermelon wafting through the air, much to Amity's disgust. Just remembering such a stench makes her wish to hurl, keeping herself composed as she approaches from the south entryway, smaller than the eastern entrance.

Nobody nearby dares approach a simple house, be it bandit or passerby, children actively crossing the street just to avoid even getting near the home. Something is wrong with it in their eyes, which only encourages the Khelyrian Paladin to investigate more closely.

Amity doesn't dare knock, pressing the side of her head against the door to listen for sounds of any sort. She hears footsteps and mumbling on the other side, two sets of each, one of them female and the other seeming unnaturally deep, likely distorted in one manner or another.

"As I was saying, we'll be fine. The locals are wise enough not to approach," the deep-voiced being assures their "customer". "All you need to do is give Piniet this document and you'll be paid by the end of the month; this contract merely ensures you know what you're getting into and absolve all involved of any legal responsibilities within the human territories. The Administration will reward you handsomely, hence the end-of-the-month deadline to pay for your services. We have a deal, yes?"

"Of course," the woman concludes, silent for several moments before stating with excitement, "Done. Thank you for your services."

Footfalls indicate someone is approaching quickly, forcing Amity to move toward the eastern door to avoid being spotted, peering from the wall to realize the one she trailed has indeed made a deal. She hides the contract within her armor, a single corner of paper peeking from within a bag, before sauntering off.

Commander Blight immediately knocks, the risk of letting her enemy escape too great.

Chapter Text

The home’s interior was exactly as Amity would have expected, filled to the brim with precious wood and metal, materials Syndura is in dire need of, a pile of gold just resting beside the door. She doesn’t dare pilfer a single coin, keeping herself focused on the task at hand. She knows what she must do to ensure Xadia thrives in the near future, and maybe then she can ensure another war doesn’t break out without cause.

Commander Blight listens closely for the contractor, just knowing they’re somewhere within, as she observes brass potted plants keeping flora contained. Paintings with silver frames and chandeliers of tungsten catch her eyes, more precious metals being wasted on criminals, the gold no doubt utilized to spread more death. She approaches the living room to notice more of the same woods and metals used to glamorize the house, only to grow enraged upon noticing a familiar fluff along the couch and chair cushions.

’Is this…?’

She removes a gauntlet to properly touch the material, drawing back upon properly recognizing the texture. It’s not often she comes across bunny fur being used as wool or silk, but it’s the first time she’s seen a criminal use such a thing for their homes, much less when they don’t deserve it in her eyes. She so desperately wants to find whoever or whatever was done and make them suffer for poaching the very creatures she swore to protect once upon a time.

creeeeeaaaak

The commander’s head swiftly turns toward what is probably the kitchen, finding herself staring eye-to-eye with a familiar woman she both has and hasn’t expected to come across. The commander stands eye-to-eye with the 7’7 elven woman, her ivory-white skin contrasted with mint-green hair tied into an almost glamorized knot. She stands with a hand to a purple globe attached to her necklace, hateful sky-blue eyes immediately returning to a warm expression. Her enemy’s clothes are largely covered by a royal-purple cloak, with a white, long-sleeved top, black boots, and gray leggings visible from being unfastened, only for the youngest Blight to notice an emblem stitched into her shirt.

She sees a Nova Hawk with outstretched wings and open talons, exactly the thing she was sent to search for.

”…Odalia,” Amity spits, her tone filled with hate.

”Mittens, what are you doing all the way out here?” Odalia questions, her tone turning from annoyance to infuriated. “And don’t give me that tone when you neglected your mission! Where’s the princess?! Why haven’t you given me my report in months?!”

“It simply slipped my mind, given I was keeping myself busy by committing to my duties,” Amity speaks in earnest, just not mentioning what said duties are. “I think you were meant to send me a letter, but they never reached me.”

Odalia sees through her daughter’s wording, enraged she would try playing her for a fool. Nobody has dared disobey her without facing the consequences, noticing the disgust and hate in her youngest child’s voice, leading her to conclusions that would result in bolstered vitriol.

”…Well, no matter. It seems I won’t have to send more mercenaries and we can get back on track,” the mother interrupts, refusing to give a second of thought before adding, “assuming you haven’t betrayed your family. You’re not acting right, Mittens. Has the princess become too much to handle? Did they manipulate you? What did they feed through your ears to make you so hateful?”

The words are enough for the armored woman to clench her hands into fists, wanting nothing more than to succumb to her rage. If there is one person she wouldn’t regret beating down until she’s nothing more than a pile of gore, it’s her own mother. She has proven herself to be a hypocrite out for herself, having spotted no signs of her brothers or father in the house, only able to calm herself long enough to give a reply.

”I’ve gotten close with Princess Luz, just as you’ve wanted me to, if that’s what you were wondering,” she replies, the older elf quickly walking close. “She-“

The commander’s explanation is interrupted as the noble yanks off her helmet and tries to slap her, only for a gauntlet to catch the strike. She doesn’t dare remain gentle, understanding she may seem brainwashed, choosing to play along to some degree, just long enough to get answers.

”As I was saying, she has fallen in love with me, there is no doubt about that,” the younger elf continues, savoring the surprise across her former superior’s face. “The Clawthornes see me as a loyal ally, the Empress herself believes I’m among her finest soldiers in recent years, even the Royal Guard see me as one of them. I’ve fully integrated with the Palace of Khelyria, and that is despite knowing what I’ve done over the years.”

Such words are all Odalia has wanted to hear, but not in the way they were spoken. She still believes her youngest has succumbed to something the humans have done, yanking her arm away to prevent a bone from snapping in the Paladin’s grip. Part of her wonders whether “integration” meant “conversion” from what she considers proper thinking.

’They likely brainwashed her into believing her own family’s a threat! Their magic is too pitifully spread out to be so useful, but one of those wretched machines may have done it!’ she rationalizes, gritting her teeth as she takes a step back from her glaring daughter. ‘If that’s the case, she needs to understand who’s in the right. She’ll understand once I answer a few questions is all, surely. It worked once before, it will work once more.’

”…Now Mittens, I’m sure you’re confused after spending so long around your mortal enemies. It’s just that after spending so long away from your mother, I’ve begun to worry!” Odalia insists, keeping her gaze softened as she keeps her hands in view. “I feared the worst, and not wanting your death to be in vain, I sent out mercenaries to finish the job!”

”What if I was merely delayed? What if sending a letter to you or even receiving one would constitute an investigation?” Amity retorts, her tone indicating she’s steadily losing her composure. “You could have just sent one of those mercenaries to scout what’s going on then report what happened! This is why I was your best despite you; I knew to think my actions through!”

”And yet you’re the one to have ravaged many towns not unlike Syndura!” the matriarch retorts with newfound anger, catching her daughter off-guard. “It doesn’t matter if it’s one town or one hundred towns, you are to blame for their countless deaths! Maybe this town wasn’t taken down by your hand, but it was your efforts that helped exacerbate the conflict between humans and elves in the first place! Maybe they’ll learn you were genuinely trying, but history will only see a whining, ungrateful elf who couldn’t accept that her cause was doomed from the start! Remember that your own mother dearest was kind enough to see your new role in life, don’t waste it if you know what’s good for you!”

Such comments remind Amity why she chose to join her mother in the first place. The memory of being given an earnest chance to prove her worth by her new superiors beyond acting as a killer or agent quells the thought. She knows she’ll never make things right by killing, and she has her objective, the snapping of metal sounding from her gauntlets as her palms begin to bleed.

Amity’s lack of a verbal response is all the matriarch needs to continue explaining, further elaborating, “I had no idea that you were even alive at that point. By sending in assassins, I’ve managed to determine your location and ensure your role has been enforced. Sure, 15 worthless humans had their lives snuffed out, but I’ve helped you in the end once again! Had you lost, the Empress and Princess would’ve-“

”Empress Camila and Princess Luz of the Noceda Family,” Amity corrects with a growl, refusing to back down completely.

”…Fine, Empress Camila and Princess Luz would’ve fallen from their blades. Your demise wouldn’t have been for nothing and the elven cause would be strengthened a hundredfold!” Odalia rants, unable to stop listening to her master plan. “Everything has been under control, and by sending out more mercenaries to make us look great, we ensure you’re the most worthy candidate to take the throne by proxy! Besides, you seem a little… too attached to them. Are you certain you’re thinking clearly, dear?”

Amity nods, finally understanding the fact she’s been listening to a lunatic for years and years. It finally makes sense why Alador saw to it that he insisted his youngest chooses what happens next. Knowing she has a choice in the matter means she can finally prove both to her family and her true empire what she truly is at heart, sins be damned.

’You’ve been given a choice, now stick to what you’ve chosen,’ she reminds herself, finally prepared to strike. ‘She must be brought down, now.’

Commander Blight offers her mother no mercy as she swings her greatsword with all her might, the flat end connecting with the matriarch’s head with a firm crack, cratering the floorboards. A shout and a moan escape Odalia’s lips as her vision blurs, trying to comprehend just what her daughter has done, looking up with a mixture of fear and confusion, only to look up at a pair of golden, fury-filled eyes. For the first time in her life, she feels as if her control has been completely stripped from her, leading her to crawl back in fear.

”By order of Empress Camila of the Noceda Empire, I place you, Odalia Blight, under arrest for attempted assassination of the Empress and Princess Luz!” the commander shouts with a mixture of rage and disgust as she steps forward. “You are to be taken to the Empress herself for sentencing immediately!”

The fear of being sentenced to death drives Odalia to fight back, firing a surge of plasma from her hands toward her daughter. She now understands this truly is Amity, the ferocity and the lack of conscience akin to her past crimes now directed at her. Her defensive spell does nothing to dissuade the soldier, using her sword to block most of the surge as her armor begins to burn to the touch, the noble’s daughter seeing no reason to offer the mercy she denied the innocent.

”Call me a traitor all you wish! You’re right, I’ll likely never wash away the horrors of my crimes, yet the Empress herself has bestowed upon me mercy and an opportunity to atone!” the younger elf roars, her bloodied gauntlet glowing from the heat of her mother’s magic. “Unlike you, they see more than the hypocrite I was before! They give me a chance to prove my merit beyond acting as a weapon! That’s all you see my family and I as: weapons!”

Whatever Odalia may have wished to say is cut off by her youngest’s searing hand, boiling her flesh and extinguishing her magic. Mrs. Blight’s screams of terror and agony pierce the air as she’s pulled upward, forced to look the commander in the eye.

”…We’re not weapons to you anymore! No more building your reputation, no more mercenaries! Perhaps if you grovel and kiss Her Majesty’s shoes enough, she’ll offer a more lenient sentence,” the armored witch hisses, unable to hide her disgust as she squeezes tighter, her own fury dulling the pain, “because whatever it may be, it’ll be mercy compared to what I’ll do unless you march. Now MARCH!!”

CRASH

”I SAID MARCH!!”

A door is kicked off its hinges, drawing attention to the building once home to a malevolent contractor. Locals across from the house turn to find Commander Blight drag behind her a bound Odalia, her arms tightly bound with both chains and rope. Disgust and fear are all that can be seen in the matriarch’s eyes as she is forced to follow the orders of one of her subordinates, of her own daughter no less, the humiliation impossible to wash away.

Only a healing potion courtesy of Amity prevents her own injury from being permanent, having forgotten what kind of elf her mother is. The last thing she wishes to do is allow for such a mistake to destroy her attempts at atonement, using the remnants to prevent the contractor’s own hand from bleeding too profusely. It’s far too much mercy in her eyes, but even Amity knows she aims to atone one way or another, all while her mother lives in luxury while her own objective screams for help.

”You claimed to be an ally hoping to see peace, yet at the end of the day you’re willing to take the lives of your own family. To think I considered you my mother when I was but a child,” the commander growls, heading straight for the inn. “…Look at me, having once seen you as a role model, and now I see the truth.”

Amtiy can’t stop ranting about her experiences back in Khelyria, coming to see the bliss she has lived, knowing she will render her mother’s entire travel to the palace a miserable one. It won’t bring back all they’ve taken, but it will be enough to prevent them from killing each other too soon.

”Shut up, shut up, shut up, you traitor!’ Odalia shouts, unable to block out the rambling. “Release me! You need me to fix your mistakes!”

”Incorrect.”

The simple word is more than enough to leave Odalia to scream from the rage bubbling within. The little catharsis knowing she’s finally managed to make her mother kneel and her rank among the knights in Syndura prevent her from being forced to gag the humiliated criminal.

All she knows is that Ghost deserves a Star Apple or two during their trip back to the palace.

Chapter Text

“To think I raised an irredeemable monster! What have I done to deserve any of this?! What would your father and siblings think?!”

”They’d be proud I’m no longer putting up with your nonsense. Now keep marching!”

It took nearly five full days in total to complete her task, using time on the third day to travel during the day, but she finally made it back to the Empress’s Palace. Commander Blight was right that refusing to put up with the contractor would bring her a sense of peace, that she would be one step closer to changing for the better. However, she underestimated how much of a squeaker she would be, having been forced to put a burlap sack over her head just to prevent eyes from darting her way. The last thing she needs is others questioning why she of all people is to be brought before the Empress herself, especially when she’s mere moments away from showing them proof of her loyalty.

Soldiers welcome her back with open arms, briefly confused to find her shoving before her a captive. Never before have they witnessed her utilize no restraint, each jostle and shove staggering her prisoner as she leads her to the throne room, a stark contrast to her past harsh but fair control over her subordinates. The commander refuses to speak to lest she let her temper get the better of her, able to tell she’s riled up the many soldiers thanks to her sudden departure and return, especially with proof of her mission.

The throne room door is shoved open as the Paladin drags alongside her the captive, catching the Empress and her daughter off-guard thanks to her sudden presence. Just seeing them alive and well calms the armored elf down, a reminder she wasn’t sent to capture a criminal for her own sake alone.

”Amity, you’re back!” Luz exclaims, taking a moment to process the scene before her. “…Wait, is that who I think it is?”

”Yes, for better or worse,” the soldier confirms in a softer tone than before. “Empress, Princess, I bring to you proof that my mission has been successful. I present to you my findings.”

She removes the sack from the culprit’s head, confusing Luz while only momentarily surprising Camila, both intrigued and disappointed to learn of who was captured. Luz’s guards immediately stand at either side of Odalia, refusing to give her even the smallest opportunity for escape; nobody even accused of attempting harm toward the Noceda Family is to be treated lightly.

”…Why am I even surprised?” the ruler sighs, shaking her head as she lightly grips Luz’s hand.

”Odalia. You’re Amity’s mom?” Luz notes, slowly feeling anger bubble from within.

”I… I was framed! Commander Blight was tricked into apprehending me while the true culprit was escaping!” the matriarch pleads, still refusing to swallow her pride. “I’ll bring you to the crime scene myself if I must, just please heed my words! My daughter has been fooled!”

Mrs. Blight hopes to take advantage of her situation, to make herself appear weaker than she truly is, unable to even look her captors in the eye. the youngest nor eldest Nocedas are convinced by such pleas, no matter how sincere they may sound. Even in the likelihood the commander was indeed tricked, past talks about who she is and what she aims to do make it clear there’s evidence Odalia is far from the innocent mother she is portraying herself as.

”Let’s just say your daughter has given a different account of what happened before she brought you here,” the Empress states plainly, refusing to take chances. “However, as horrible as the claims against you are, the least I could do is find out the truth myself. Eda? Could I see you for a moment?”

It took two minutes just for Odalia to drink a Truth Serum, even with a sweetener, refusing to admit to her wrongdoings. She knew the second enough of the substance was in her stomach, there would be no hope of refuting whatever may be uttered. In the end, however, Luz remains by Amity’s side as she gets back into her favorite spot, just near the princess, before finally letting themselves slump into one another.

”…and the mercenaries! I picked humans because they were easy to consider collateral! You beasts know how to breed like Adoraburrs and are far more dangerous than they could ever be!” Mrs. Blight rambles against her will with self-realized terror, the Empress’s glare staring straight into her soul. “I… didn’t know if they were adequate, so I sent over a dozen to ensure your deaths! I just hadn’t accounted for my traitorous daughter’s training to have been as well as it had been! Gods, make the potion stop!!”

The Owl Lady knows she could easily deactivate the effects by either dosing her with the proper brew or simply knocking her unconscious. She opts for simply standing by, keeping her claw-like nails on the madwoman’s left shoulder, preventing her from trying to escape or resist the potion’s effects. The fact she needed to be forced to drink, however, is all the proof she needs to know every word spilling out has truth to them, the terror and rage apparent throughout.

”Uh huh, sure. So Lily, I think we have enough proof, don’t you think?” the Head Alchemist comments with a grin, unable to hide her own amusement.

Odalia takes a moment to look around, only to find no such Marshal in sight, having only spotted immediate threats all around her. She tries and fails once more to break her bonds, her hand still aching from the force of her own magic, before another set of nails grasps her right shoulder, looking to find an infuriated Marshal Clawthorne. Her pupils turn to pinpricks from horror upon spotting a crystal ball, slowly dimming as a result.

”More than enough. I believe we have enough to go over sentencing, though I must remind you, Camila, that several of her crimes fall outside of our jurisdiction. One wrong piece of evidence could lead to civil unrest at best and make us look paranoid at worst,” Lilith warns, prepared for what’s to come but not wanting needless risk as a result. “I will say, however, that having proof my Commander’s chances at redemption are non-existent pleases me so. Odalia, thank you for proving Amity’s not beyond hope.”

Amity can’t stop watching her mother being proven a crook with a noble’s demeanor, keeping an arm around her favorite princess all the while. The last thing she wants is to ruin the proceedings, remaining as a character witness for all involved, feeling Luz cling to her arm with all her might. She feels safe, protected from the malicious elf’s machinations, witnessing the full brunt of the peace mission’s true enemy.

”…Amity, are all bad elves like her?” she asks with a hint of sorrow.

”…A few, but others are hurt thanks to time and tragedy. Ages of war have jaded some of us for the worse, but people like her are just rotten,” Amity explains, shaking her head. “You proved to me some can change, but others like Odalia don’t want change, not for the better. They’ll never truly disappear, we can only minimize the damage they can inflict.”

Luz nods along, feeling anger boil from within her, threatening to unleash itself upon the woman who hurt her favorite elf. Amity has proven herself more than worthy of a second chance, and one of the few people who should help only turned her daughter into a weapon. Fortunately, as per Amity’s own words, the damage can be minimized, though she’s sure it will take much more time than even a few years.

For once, Amity has grown bored listening to the impromptu court go over every last crime they know of, the sun having nearly set thanks to the length and severity. Some crimes she will be punished for, others she will not thanks to a lack of evidence, but most will be taken up with the elven half of Xadia. It’s only a matter of time before her soon-to-be-estranged mother loses any and all meaningful influence she’s gathered over the centuries, and with loved ones by her side, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Before long, key details could be made out through all the crimes Odalia has committed. Any and all contracts made throughout the Noceda Empire in the past several months can be traced back to her in one manner or another. Proof of her ill intent has been captured by the crystal ball, her necklace charm confiscated to minimize the odds of her escaping. The matriarch’s fury has only solidified the belief that she must be locked up for her mental health, the chains and ropes around her reinforced to prevent any escape attempts.

Empress Camila shakes her head, declaring at long last, ”Odalia Blight, Matriarch of the Blight Family, you have proven yourself a menace not just toward the cause for peace, but an active threat to your family. However, unfortunately thanks to Xadia’s treaties, not all of your crimes will be used against you as a result, though several can be. As such, you have been found guilty of attempted assassination of both myself and my daughter.”

”So… yeah. We’ll be keeping you imprisoned until someone from the elves can transport you for proper punishment,” the Head Alchemist concludes, just wanting to drink something strong and pat her daughter. “On the bright side, just know your efforts won’t be for nothing in the long run. At least your abuse did something right.”

“That’s it? After everything I’ve done, you’re going to throw me away?!” Odalia roars, her binds starting to shudder. “Edalyn! Lilith! You of all people should know what humans are capable of!”

”Neither elves nor humans can reverse what they’ve done. We can only move forward and learn, something you’ve made clear you refuse to even consider,” Lilith retorts, unwilling to listen to her enemy’s ramblings. “I’d explain just how incorrect you’ve been and how wretched you’ve become, but we both know you’ll refuse to listen for even a second.”

Marshal Clawthorne refuses to allow Odalia to escape, casting a spell of her own to counteract any and all escape attempts. It will take at least several weeks before someone manages to collect her, and she refuses to allow for even the slightest chance of the plan going awry. The counter only shatters the towering matriarch’s restraint, shrieking and roaring as she tries to escape regardless, only held back by the restraints and her captors’ intentions.

To save everyone both in the throne room and the rest of the palace’s grounds, Eda personally shoves a rag into her mouth, just long enough for her to reach her cell. At least those in the dungeon will get to see their boss for who she truly is, eager to know what happens to her in the meanwhile.

That’s it. One moment Odalia’s swearing she’s in the right, the next her daughter is in the princess’s room slumped against a wall, taking her time processing everything that’s happened over the past couple of months. It helps that she was granted a chance to recuperate for several days, the Empress understanding the change of events, though Commander Blight insists on needing only one day. She has duties to attend to, and with a comparably stable support system and routine, she is certain a degree of normalcy is destined to occur.

Knowing her own initial goal was destined to end poorly only makes her resent her mother more. Luz can see it in her friend’s eyes, helmet resting to the side as she thinks long and hard about what’s happened. She locks the door, remembering the guards have keys in case of an emergency, before taking a seat beside Amity, wanting to ensure her favorite guard is alright.

”…Hey, want to talk about it?” Luz asks softly, Commander Blight’s gaze only slightly softening upon hearing her voice.

The green-haired woman nods, scooting herself closer to her friend before stating, “I finally proved myself that I’m not a monster, at least when it comes to you and your mother. My loyalty to Odalia has been forever shattered. Even the Marshal sees me as a proper ally. Despite all of that, I’m just not certain I can let go of my rage. It’s been so long since I’ve truly embraced my bloodlust, toward my own mother of all people.”

Luz can see her exhaustion despite the rage, scared she’ll snap at any moment. Unsure what else to do, the princess holds onto her friend’s arm, refusing to let her think she’s forced to suffer in silence.

”I heard Mom say it’s best to let go of anger, but… I don’t think it always works. It doesn’t mean you have to let it be everything there is about you though,” the youngest Noceda explains, refusing to lie but not wishing to deny any level of closure. “Maybe focus on something that makes you happy for a little bit. It doesn’t have to be big or anything, just something to remind you there’s more to life than trying to fight off someone who’s evil but locked up. That and… well, you don’t have to be alone when you’re mad.”

Hearing her rage isn’t unjustified brings only mild relief, but understanding that forced rage won’t help leads her to consider what to do next.

”…Perhaps I should speak with someone to find out what to do,” Amity murmurs, lightly grasping the smaller woman’s hand. “I don’t want to let rage consume me, not when we’ve attained closure this soon.”

”Good idea. Just let me know if you need help on that, okay?” Luz encourages, happy to see both effort and the refusal to truly break.

The golden-eyed Paladin nods in response. It’s the first time speaking with a professional sounds like a good idea for the soldier, understanding that knowing change must happen and knowing how to change are two different things. It will be some time before meaningful progress will be spotted, and until then, she can always lean on someone to prevent her from falling completely.

The elven woman removes her armor’s gauntlets and arm pieces before pulling Luz into her lap, aware that she enjoys physical affection. It feels nice not needing to refrain from being herself, sighing softly as she hugs her gently. The human princess can’t help but blush and return the affection, briefly sighing herself as she figuratively melts in her embrace. No amount of missions can change such a simple yet clear display of affection, just happy knowing they’re no longer apart for the time being.

Neither princess nor commander has anything more to say despite their brief chat, only able to think about holding onto each other. The day has been long and the brief trial cathartic, and all that’s left is to simply embrace the peace before the morning once again. Never before has simply remaining by another’s side felt so appealing before, much less in such a physical manner, Commander Blight beginning to emit a soft rumbling sound.

”Amity, are you… purring?” Luz murmurs softly, mesmerized by such a sound.

”…I didn’t even know I could purr,” Amity admits in an awestruck tone, blushing upon realizing what she’s done. “It’s not bothering you, is it?”

”Purr as much as you want,” Luz insists with awe of her own. “It feels and sounds right.”

”As you wish, Princess~”

Never before have Luz and Amity been so certain everything will be alright.

Chapter Text

“You dunces! I told you to train her, not just fight her and hone yourselves alone!” Amity yells as she berates a certain pair of Lieutenants. “Just because you were right doesn’t mean your methods were the right ones! She’s like the others, she needs a delicate hand and a firm hand to ensure her skills blossom just as you need encouragement to bring out the best in you!”

Commander Blight specifically left behind instructions for the men to train Luz during the day while she was away on a mission. While they indeed trained her, they screwed up how, leaving her temporarily stunted in what she needs her to know down the line, much to her frustration. However, the commander acknowledges she taught her men and the princess differently, choosing to make her next order to teach both her soldiers and one of her favorite humans.

”Sorry, ma’am,” the soldiers sigh with defeat, understanding their blunder.

”You can work off this little debt by helping me train her today. As powerful as one elf can be, I’m still one elf, and I can’t complete all of her training without aid,” she explains, gesturing to their training weapons. “Grab your gear, you’ll be helping me with the next part. And please, try to show some restraint. I’ll tell you when you’re clear to exert further force, but not a second before.”

Few things have made Luz nervous about Amity’s training, just grateful she refuses to force too much of her prowess on training unless applicable. To her sides, however, she finds the two Lieutenants assigned to protect her earlier on, each with an expression of hesitance and concern on their faces, spear and daggers drawn.

”Luz, you’ve done amazingly beforehand, but you can only succeed at so much with a single opponent. You know how to defend against anything and everything most lone foes can throw at you, and as such you know how to fight most of them off,” the soldier explains, proud yet cautious as she further explains the next part of her training. “However, as wrong as my men were about how they were training you, it’s clear you struggle with fighting against more than one opponent at a time. Not all of your enemies will be alone, and it’s for that reason, alongside keeping you on par with other soldiers, that you’ll be taught how to focus on more than one opponent.”

The spear-wielder approaches from the front while the dagger-wielder charges from the side. Amity watches closely, looking for faults in her student’s fighting style for anything that could signal why she’s failed to catch up in training yet, finding her answer after three attempts. Her polearm-armed soldier’s stick is shoved into the ground before Luz engages her, only for his fellow soldier to charge forward despite Luz’s attempts to refuse falling. The princess attempts a new strategy by going for the dagger wielder, using her larger reach to her advantage to close the gap between them, only for the remaining Lieutenant to push her to the ground with a jab to her shoulder, sending her off-balance. The final attempt to fend them off results in a similar result to the first, and it’s then Commander Blight spots the problem, helping her up while inspecting everyone’s weapons for damage.

”Alright, I see the problem. My Lieutenants have indeed been training properly, though they’ve failed to explain how you keep falling,” the elven woman notes with a firm yet fair tone. “Your skill and strength against one opponent is more than sufficient from what I can see, but you’re stunted in that you only focus on one enemy at a time. It gives other nearby enemies the opportunity to break through your defenses, leaving you vulnerable toward weaker foes by proxy.”

Luz nods along, thinking back before realizing she has indeed focused on one enemy at a time, replying, “Suddenly me falling back down makes a lot more sense. And please give the Lieutenants some credit, they’ve at least shown they can work as a team when the going gets tough; they even protected me before you got back.”

The soldiers remain silent for a moment as their superior officer looks them over, intrigued before nodding in approval. Such a claim from her favorite human reminds her despite their lack of proper training for Luz, they’re still loyal to the Noceda Empire first and foremost.

”…Good job, you two. Just try to be a little lenient,” she explains before clarifying, “Not as in become harmless, just enough to allow for her to grow, to improve. I’m sure I mustn’t remind you why, correct?”

The duo nods, both touched by the praise and fully comprehending why they were trained the way they were, replying, “Yes ma’am.”

”Good. Now let’s continue.”

"One!"

About halfway through the session, Luz has finally begun to understand multi-enemy combat. She focuses on one opponent, the spear wielder, keeping an eye out for her enemy bit by bit; she can't allow them to strike at her no matter what, aware even the slightest error could lead to life-threatening injuries.

"Two!"

The princess immediately swaps targets upon noticing the commander's words, turning to find the dagger-wielding Lieutenant preparing to strike with his wooden blade. She refuses to give him the opportunity, raising her wooden shield to block the blow, staggering slightly  from the force of a non-Amity soldier's attacks. It feels like almost nothing by comparison to her, giving the tan woman a chance to retaliate proportionately to what she felt, keeping the knight at a distance.

"One!"

Unfortunately, she can't yet focus on more than one no matter how hard she tries, taking a blow to her back from turning too late. She stumbles before she can raise her shield, the spear-toting Lieutenant jabbing forward once again to push her off-balance, much to her surprise.

"You've gotten better already, Princess," the knight compliments, impressed the Empress's daughter has improved in so little time. "Might I suggest keeping watch over fellow soldiers when swapping between us? You won't have Commander Blight to watch over you sometimes."

"Are you nuts?! Don't go behind her back!" the dagger-toting Lieutenant scolds, grabbing his partner's shoulder with a mixture of confusion and dread.

"No, he's right."

They turn to the commander, relieved yet confused from her comment.

"Luz, you've already improved so much in so little time, but you can't lose focus of your previous target. You swap with increasing precision, though given it's your first day, that doesn't mean you can't improve throughout the month," she praises yet critiques, a balance between firm and fair. "Lieutenants, get back into position. We'll start from the top."

Only a minute remains with the training session, and the princess can feel her muscles ache and sweat cake her forehead. She thought training beforehand was ruthless, but it's clear to her even small attacks will eventually whittle away at what defense or durability she may have. The wooden shield in her hand has begun to chip once more, the Lieutenants' blows no longer so much as grazing her chainmail, her stance remaining as strong as ever.

"One!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"Two!"

Each number informs her of who to focus on, never any form of alteration of which means what. Her shoulders shudder as the pace increases still, her lungs beginning to sting from the exertion. Her grunts and groans of exhaustion sound all throughout, but not once has she chosen to complain; if other soldiers are going through similar training, then it's only fair if she persists even now.

A downward strike to the spearman's weapon. A wide slash to keep the dagger wielder at bay. Another downward strike against the spear wielder's armored shoulder. A fourth toward the now-weaponless opponent's legs, knocking him to the ground. Her training concludes with her shield nearly shattering, her wooden sword nearly breaking in two as it collides with the dagger-proficient Lieutenant's chestplate, the force of the blow surprising him.

"Enough!" Commander Blight calls, her eyes wide with surprise as she feels pride witnessing the aftermath. "It seems you've already caught up in so little time. Impressive, really! Grab some water while I talk with your comrades."

"Thanks, I have some good teachers to... to make this all possible," Luz admits, finally letting herself stagger toward the water barrel.

"As for you two," the commander states in a firmer tone, the two shuddering before she nods before affirming, "you were in-sync to the very end. and were excellent sparring partners despite your error while I was away. Perhaps I've misjudged you."

”Thanks, Commander,” the spearman replies with surprised gratitude, his comrade-in-arms nodding to show his support for the reply.

Only then does everyone finally take part in taking a drink of water and a swig from a healing potion, only the former with the Commander. Luz’s hands are pink from the strain on her hands and the grip on her gear, still stinging as she downs her second full mug of water. The Lieutenants refuse to give up what refreshments they can gather, noticing the princess beginning to groan as she prepares for another drink.

”Princess, might I suggest waiting for a few minutes?” the dagger user suggests, mildly concerned. “I’m enjoying the drink too, but you don’t want to flood your belly; water poisoning’s a rare yet real thing.”

”I’ll be fine,” Luz insists, just wanting to quench her thirst and soothe her aches. “It’s just some water. I just need to be sure.”

A gentle gauntlet is placed upon her shoulder, Amity insisting, “Please, at least pace yourself. There’s plenty of water, you won’t become dehydrated.”

Several seconds pass for the younger woman to process her protector’s words before finally nodding, pulling away from the barrel to let her stomach settle. At long last, she feels her body settle down, almost falling as she takes a seat beside her friend and leaning into her side, much to the surprise of the Lieutenants. Their shock only grows upon witnessing a superior officer hold her close, letting herself grow soft for someone with no immediate purpose, the knights’ reactions not going unnoticed by Amity.

”Tell as many of your subordinates and peers as you’d like, just know they’ll likely not believe you,” the elf notes, her arm grasped by the human princess. “You’re dismissed, attend to your duties. And thanks again for helping me in training Luz.”

Once the two of them are washed up, there’s little else to do, given the lack of royal duties the youngest Noceda has been required for as of late.

There’s nothing left for Amity to do but finally embrace the rest of the day and protect Luz. She never thought such a simple command would lead to her enjoying life beyond a duty, but the princess has proven her wrong by simply treating her as another person. It’s not much for most people, yet finally embracing something for the sake of it has given her a chance to become more than just a soldier.

Both women reside in the garden beneath the tree with pink leaves, se joying the calm weather while discussing their favorite pastime. The small pleasures in life can’t be ignored, though a debate has sprung from discussing the “Cosmic Frontier” texts.

”…but then the Frontier, assuming it exists, would be the reason Startouched Elves exist in this world, not just Xadia,” the princess points out, perplexed by such claims in the texts. “I mean come on, another world beyond the sky?”

”There are small communities who aren’t even aware of magic’s existence. Who’s to say we’re just in a similar scenario but on a larger scale?” the now-unmasked Commander Blight comments, pointing up then down toward the sky and ground. “For millennia, all sapient beings have pondered the existence of paradise and damnation. For all we know we could have all descended from them, with magic and intellect being the remnants.”

”That much I get. I’m sure all sapients came from something, but I don’t think elves, even Startouched, descended from a race of otherworldly entities,” Luz clarifies, though no less perplexed by the stories. “Then again I believe the Good Sorceress existed at one point, so who am I to say?”

The Good Sorceress Azura’s tales have given the two a reason to discuss more, aware they can’t only discuss the intricacies of a folk legend without pointing out the same things for the same reasons. However, it’s then she doesn’t recall seeing such records within the palace library or even parts of the vaults she could access.

”…Where did you even find this?” the commander asks with suspicion.

”Mom’s room. She’s not usually one for folktales, but she has a whole collection of them! I think she was trying to find out where elves came from, you know?” Luz answers with intrigue of her own, noticing a few creatures with similarities to elves. “They’re pretty consistent, but they… well, I think my dad read them too.”

Such a comment wasn’t what Amity was expecting. The entire Noceda Family has had interest in folktales in one manner or another, only confirmed now as she looks at the cover of the writings to find two signatures.

”…Yeah, probably.”

It matters little to them in the long run where elves or humans came from; the time for peace has been called for too long to be ignored.

”…Do you think she was trying to establish peace thanks to these texts, trying to find a common ancestor?” the towering woman points out, gesturing to various soldiers in unfamiliar attire and anomalous weaponry. “It’s the only idea I can come up with.”

The shorter woman shakes her head at the thought, replying with further confusion, “If that’s the case, then that doesn’t explain why these haven’t even been seen in the vaults. I think she and Dad found them and then decided to read and get her up everything they know about them.”

”…Maybe we should ask her, just to be safe,” Amity insists, her curiosity only growing. “All we can do is speculate right now. At least with her we can gather answers, assuming she wishes to discuss them.”

”Later,” Luz replies, leaning into her friend’s side once more. “For now, cuddles.”

”Such a needy little human,” Commander Blight murmurs, her now-uncovered arms wrapping around the princess’s body. “Good thing I like being wanted.”

Part of the youngest Blight’s mind begins to wonder whether she might be akin to Luz in terms of her desire for affection. She doesn’t recall a single time she’s wanted to be around anyone, even her siblings, only for a random human she should have little interest in from the start to help her change for the better, motivating her.

’…Probably,’ she concludes, not needing a deeper explanation. ‘She’s my princess, and she’ll be safe no matter what.’

Her hand lightly pats Luz’s head, loving how she nuzzles to the slightest touch. The human can’t stop snuggling up even with a chestplate blocking them off, knowing she’s safe as she closes her tired eyes. To the princess, it’s all proof that her friend isn’t a monster and is indeed worthy of a happy ending, whatever said ending may be in the long run. Maybe they’ll indeed drift apart and not be in love with each other down the line, the idea seeming both heartrending and heartwarming at once. At least there will always be a choice.

”…Amity? I’m not being too clingy, am I?” she asks with a small stretch, wanting to avoid causing needless discomfort.

”No of course not… Honey?” the elven commander assures her. “Did I use that term correctly?”

A single nod brings a small smile to Amity’s face as she hugs her companion more, feeling at ease, just glad she doesn’t need to feel frustrated or angry all the time. She knows the need for someone to properly speak to will persist for some time, but starting somewhere is better than nothing at all.

Simple pleasures and assurance for what may come are all she could ever want, her duty and desire for once being the same thing.

Chapter Text

The shouts of indignant rage reverberate throughout the Khelyria Palace's dungeons, hard to ignore and even harder to block out entirely. Guards on standby groan to themselves listening to the latest addition to the cells call them filth, traitors, and the like, all because they work for the Empress. They've heard what she's done and what she's capable of, just enough information to remain cautious no matter what may or may not come, with even the mercenary refusing to inch close to the cell's bars if it means nearing the matriarch. For better or worse, however, three visitors came for the contractor instead of one.

Eda remains by Camila's side, not, unable to redirect her golden eyes from the Empress without feeling her own rage boil, her sister just outside the cell lest she lose her temper. The eldest Noceda knows it's not wise to pertain to matters not concerning her, but despite the crime of the mercenary, Odalia's the one who sent him after her and her child in the first place. They were specifically directed by her to kill off anyone in the carriage once they left the Wittebane Administration's territory, only foiled to her "traitor" of a daughter.

"I can forgive those who have tried taking my life; they fought for a cause beyond themselves. I forgave Lilith and Eda decades ago, and now they're among my closest allies. Even those who took my husband's life, while I still hate them, are still worthy of forgiveness in whatever deity exists beyond our own world. What I can't forgive, however," Camila reminisces calmly before stating in an ice-cold tone, "is someone who specifically tries to harm Luz. Even by your own standards, you would've had more to gain by letting her live, and you still sent someone to kill her thanks to your paranoia!"

"You? Forgive elves?! You have no idea what you're talking about, human!" Odalia shouts, still trying and failing to loosen her binds. "Your machines have ravaged elven territory for countless years, no number of peaceful years will wipe away the damage you caused!"

"Oh shut up, 'noble'. Cammy pulled those troops out of your territory! You were after power and almost nothing else, and you keep saying we betrayed you?" the Owl Lady snaps, pointing a nail toward her former colleague's throat. "Come on, you weren't anywhere near the border when the wars happened!"

The comment briefly silences the green-haired noble, eyes wide with surprise upon realizing her captors remember certain details. Empress Camila’s wide eyes and the lack of active serum in Odalia’s system makes it clear the detail isn’t one she expected, much less anticipated here of all times and places.

"Oh yeah, I remember. You used to have a cushy position all the way to the east, just below royalty itself. Sure you didn't have goblets made of gold or carriages drawn by unicorns or whatever, but you were loaded and were nowhere near the war," Eda continues, refusing to give her a chance to speak. “Lilith and I have! How and why do you think we ‘defected’ in the first place?!”

Eda doesn’t feel the need to gloat, only aware the woman before her hasn’t experienced the hardships the human-elf conflict has brought upon Xadia’s people. She can understand and even respect those who want to understand what it was like, just as Luz did, and even those who want it to end, including her faction and the recently-integrated Amity. Instead she has to deal with someone who wouldn’t mind instigating another war for the sake of power, all because she felt entitled to a position that wasn’t hers to begin with.

Hoping to sway the Empress toward lenience, Mrs. Blight pleads, “She’s blinded by rage, Empress! I may not have experienced turmoil, but I’ve witnessed its effects on my business partners and relatives! Alador understood the implications of the war, it’s why he refused to get involved directly! I beg of you, listen to me!”

Camila isn’t convinced, having not heard what she needed, her own rage boiling as she slams the bottom of her scepter into the ground. The slam echoes throughout the dungeon, silencing everything from the wind to the guards and prisoners’ gossip, Odalia trying to lean away from the human mother and her fury.

“Where in any of that justifies nearly sentencing my daughter to death?!” Camila roars, the ruby in her staff beginning to glow. “You’re trying to justify murdering Luz when what she wants is for tensions to ease! Answer me: why does one of my most precious treasures deserve to die?!”

Lilith puts a hand on her superior’s shoulder, gently pulling her back before she does something potentially regretful. She fortunately notices and takes a breath, stepping back so that the Marshal can perform her own duty.

”Answer that at any point, but that’s not why I’m here. You act as if your every breath is a gift upon the world, so it’s only natural you have a deeper motive beyond power, don’t you?” she points out, refusing to allow for a deeper plan to lay in wait. “What’s your overall plan? Who’s involved with you?”

”As if I’d tell traitors and cowards,” Odalia spits, refusing to speak further on the matter.

”I wasn’t asking for permission, Blight,” the Marshal growls. “Unless you wish to pick up your own teeth with broken fingers, you’ll tell us exactly what your plan as a whole is!”

For once, the Empress refuses to object to such a ruthless approach. Desperate times are likely on the horizon if her highest-ranking allies and friends’ claims are to go by, and if she’s willing to go to such lengths over a misguided, paranoid plan involving the princess over her own child not sending a letter on occasion, she isn’t sure what lengths would be needed for others. The gem atop her staff stops glowing as she watches and listens closely.

”You’re looking at the mastermind! Don’t you dare threaten an elven noble! You know what we can do and yet you still spout nonsense about superiority!” Odalia spews, not noticing her captors’ expressions of exhausted confusion. “You think you’re so better just because you proclaim peace, but you of all people should know nobody will follow you! Humans instigated the war, and now you want to claim it’s time for it to end?! How pathetic, how cowardly!”

The three are simply baffled by such words, especially the turn from giving a general answer to another tirade. A belief she has more authority than humanity’s overarching ruler, a refusal to listen to reason, an almost allergic reaction to the concept of seeing her own hypocrisy. Eda wonders whether destroying a brick wall would be better than rambling to one, all while Camila can only explain to the uncaring contractor.

“It was a time of confusion and fear, with the saying being that you’re one or the other whilst permitting little else,” the eldest Noceda points out, disgusted with both species’ predecessors for their refusal to just listen to one another. “We’re not those people anymore. We are a newer generation and our people deserve a chance to live peacefully. You speak as if you’re still there rather than here and now, in a world changing and developing toward something greater. Now who else is working with you? If you cooperate, your sentence back home may be reduced.”

Odalia takes roughly half a minute to calm herself enough to reply, rambling, “Belos’ family has a debt to pay off, and I’m the debt collector. They’re just like you, claiming their own ideology is correct and that those who refuse to listen are no better than the filth they fight. The difference between you and them is at least they understand what they’re doing is repulsive, which has garnered more respect from me in a day than the entirety of the Noceda Family bloodline has in centuries. To think my daughter fell for rabid beasts over predators fighting for survival.”

The process repeats again and again in the same manner. Odalia gives an answer as to who or what the captors want and need to hear, rambles about how they’re worse than an organization seeking dominance over her own race, and then is lectured on how her thinking has only caused more harm than good. Before long, Lilith stopped trying to reason with her former peer, only asking and listening, only wondering just what made her believe the process would be anything but disappointing.

It took over an hour of patience-draining ramblings and trying to piece together what was being said to finally gather what they needed. Another crystal to record the confessions is kept for safe keeping, ensuring nothing could be misconstrued, a message already sent out to the elves to pick up one of their noblewomen.

Empress Camila can only slump in her throne, not caring if anyone sees her in a less-than-dignified position. After what she’s learned, she knows preparations must commence soon, the Knights of Khelyria no doubt required to finally put their newfound unity and prowess to use. She’s just glad that right now there’s enough information to prepare for what’s to come, and dwelling on the discovery without a plan will only lead to needless turmoil for her people in the long run.

No matter how much she tries to dissuade the thoughts, the Empress can't shake the knowledge that Odalia was, despite her ramblings, making some degree of sense. Eda notices the conflict in the human ruler's eyes, lightly nudging her companion's shoulder to draw her attention.

"Don't let her words get to you. She's talking a lot of nonsense," the Head Alchemist points out, none too bothered by her former friend's ramblings. "At least you still have the moral high ground, all things considered."

"Much of it was indeed nonsense, but... she wasn't saying nothing. Humanity could have been better by treating others with a little kindness after seeing similarities, but they didn't," Camila clarifies with a mixture of understanding and disappointment. "My very species had every chance to prove themselves better than barbarians for the sake of peace, instead they declared war in a race they didn't understand. Maybe Odalia wasn't there to see the war happen in front of her, but its effects can be felt even now, across all of Xadia."

"True, but you said it yourself. You're not one of those bozos who started the war anyway, and you're trying to prevent a similar conflict to begin with," Eda points out, only to gesture toward the floor. "She didn't care. She just saw an easy mark, and if I know her, I'd wager that she knew about your efforts to begin with. She just wants to blame someone for her finally losing what power she once had."

The truth becomes apparent to the Empress as her "advisor's" words soak in. The fact she needed to hear it rather than mull about it reinforces her belief that if she truly can't make up for what others have done, then it doesn't mean nothing could be done. There's still an entire continent's populace to worry about, only serving to motivate her to get back to work, her ambitions back in order.

"You're right. There's no point trying to listen to her," she agrees, calming slowly as she grasps her companion's hand. "Now then, where were we?"

"I was thinking we should prepare the palace and assemble some kind of evacuation process," the silver-haired elf points out, gesturing toward the back. "Might wanna run this by Lily though. I might be able to come up with something if the worst comes up."

"That's won't be necessary," the Empress points out, remembering something within one of the machine bays. "All we need to do is act smart and refuse to fall, though it won't work without the Knights of Khelyria."

The higher-ups can only hope a worst-case scenario doesn't come to pass, much less over a petty cause the instigator is responsible for.

Chapter Text

Thanks to the severity of the training being enforced upon soldiers, extra shipments of training equipment have been sent over to prevent shortages. Time and effort is needed to craft the finest pieces, suitable for both young children with an interest and soldiers needing genuine experience wielding weapons. It doesn’t matter how long or how hard someone tries to maintain slabs of wood regardless of origin, they will break down eventually. Such matters don’t even mention the matter of medical costs.

What Commander Blight didn't expect was for her coming request to be prematurely accepted, suggesting to her someone or something has made her superiors cautious for what’s to come. It only motivates her to admonish mistakes more severely while being more explicit about her pride, refusing to let the Knights of Khelyria feel like scum while training. She can’t risk hurting them directly or indirectly before times of need, not yet aware of what her mother has been interrogated of.

’…No, don’t think too hard about it. She’s locked up to await further sentencing back home,’ she reminds herself, directing her Lieutenants to strike with more fury from multiple sides. ‘You’ll know if you’re needed once more. Just worry about your duties and you’ll be fine for the most part.’

”Go ahead, whine all you want, you’ll look like a coward as you do so! Yeah it’s natural, but there’s one thing you don’t do: quit!” she calls, focusing on a small group huddled together before swinging a tree branch to their right, the effort blocked by both blade and shield, the noise from the collision akin to a fired cannon. “That’s better! I can tolerate whiners, but you’re the Knights of Khelyria! You’re the greatest soldiers in the Noceda Empire, so act like it! Cry behind closed doors, have a pint of ale once you’re done training! Maybe even find a bedmate in your spare time, it matters not! Whatever you do, do! Not! Surrender!”

Chipped wood and the clashing of metal sounds through the air, the smell of dried blood and sweat only minimized thanks to healing spells and potions at the ready. Never before has training so hard for so long felt so rewarding for her men, needing less time to recover in special cases while sufficient breaks allow them to recuperate and prepare for more. She’s never felt so proud of such a lot of men, such unity despite their differences, their refusal to stay down. It almost makes her regret being so hard on them thanks to their lack of crimes, with only the need to uphold quality preventing her from becoming too lenient.

Marshal Clawthorne and Princess Luz watch from above, in awe at the balance between mercy and brutality even among the soldiers. They can hear and see the cooperation to fight as one, archers aiming for blind spots while spearmen keep the commander at bay. Clear compliments for successes and verbal jabs for failures are unmistakable, the Marshal keeping tabs on who can do what and who would work best with who. The princess can’t help but find it fascinating how her protector and teacher can do so much for the knights, seeing just how dedicated her friend is to ensuring her loved ones remain safe.

”Such brutality even toward our own soldiers. Even if they’re growing, they must be given adequate care and rest, and we can’t risk wasting resources,” Lilith warns the princess, hearing wooden blades snap like twigs once or twice. “You’re certain Commander Blight is not overworking you?”

Luz nods her head, replying with awe, not turning her head, “She wanted to be sure I could handle her training. Yeah she’s pretty hard on me, but she doesn’t make me feel like nothing when she does so. She’s a soldier and a good friend, and I’m pretty sure everything will be alright, that and I’m already improving with being able to fight more than one guy!”

She holds up a cracked blade, emphasizing her point as she points to the soldiers. Both the princess and her aunt figure watch as Amity directs her soldiers to act as a unit, both the attackers and the defenders, never causing needless harm unless she’s sure the results will be worthwhile. The groans and complaints are a pain to the elder Clawthorne Sister’s ears, though she can’t deny that they’ve improved in record time, no doubt capable of defending the palace in times of peril.

”…Perhaps, but don’t let your heart distract you from your mission,” the elf warns, a small smirk across her lips, noticing the youngest Noceda’s blush. “However, something tells me you’ll be motivated rather than disheartened in the long run.”

Luz can only nod, understanding as she continues to watch the knights train, the commander soon forced to step back before she falls too soon. Shouts of praise for an effective blow against her are let out as her units are driven to push themselves to their limits. It feels nice to the young human, knowing there’s much to be done and how her love interest hopes to continue improving.

Only the sound of a clock chime alerts her it’s time to prepare for said training herself.

“One!”

”Two!”

”One!”

”Two!”

It took several weeks and more than a few bruises, but Luz is now confident she can fight more than one foe, all thanks to a bit of signaling. The month is nearing its end, and she feels she’s more than ready for whoever and whatever her favorite commander is able to throw at her, now able to defend against almost anything thrown at her. Each strike either fails to pierce or stagger her, her stance reinforced after months of maintenance, or is redirected toward the ground, sky, or sides.

”…”

”Commander?” the spearman comments with confusion, waiting for his number. “Why’d you pause?”

”Don't mind me, just continue what you were doing. I’m sure you know the pattern by now,” the green-haired elf replies, crossing her arms, trusting her Lieutenants to continue properly.

The lack of signal, however, confounds her, surprised as neither the Lieutenants nor their superior signal their next attacks. Each blow chips away at her once-unbreakable defense, shoving her back, the slashes and pierces knocking the wind out of her before dropping her to the ground at last. It made no sense why such a simple yet effective pattern was thrown away with no warning, Commander Blight helping the princess to her feet.

”Just as I suspected. You’ve done quite well so far, now able to consistently block or counter several of my men, but only with signals,” she praises while criticizes, immediately catching her favorite princess’s attention. “However, not everyone on the battlefield will give a similar tell. You’ll need to remain vigilant, to ensure you don’t need a signal. Timing and awareness are key to fighting in a proper battle, and should you know when and how to strike without aid, you’ll be one step closer to becoming one of the greatest swordswomen Khelyria, and by extension the rest of Xadia, has seen in recent times.”

To Luz’s surprise, she doesn’t require medical attention, stinging yet still able to push through the minor agony. Part of her feels stronger as she nods along, understanding she won’t have the same aid she has now in a more dire situation, wiping away splinters before getting back into stance, her opponents prepared to continue once more.

”Very good. We’ll start small, just so you can adjust to the change,” the Paladin assured her friend, refusing to encourage too much panic. “Men, I trust you know what comes next?”

Both soldiers nod, understanding the assignment, before stepping forward just as their pale superior officer steps back, prepared to train the princess further. The pattern is the same as before, the spearman striking first and the dagger wielder replacing him immediately afterwards, always striking with enough time to allow the uneasy princess to prepare. The clashing of wood against wood is akin to the use of whips, loud snaps sounding out as the youngest Noceda responds with equal force to her trainers.

Her stance remains stable, her eyes darting between her foes, largely focusing on the enemy attacking before shoving back, ensuring she has space for the next Lieutenant. Such a strategy works until near the end of the session, the pace subtly increasing as she redirects spear jabs and fends off knife slashes. Her familiarity with the new norm increases slowly but surely, at least able to remain standing even as she’s attacked from behind thanks to carelessness. It’s only a matter of time until she masters the new normal.

Amity can’t help but feel pride seeing her friend grow stronger by the day, more skilled beyond merely swinging a blade. She remembers the basics, never falling, her shield up and stable as she defends herself from the onslaught against her. The commander can’t help but ponder whether joining the duo in trading blows would be the wisest decision, refusing to let her friend’s upper body strength stagnate even with such conditions thrown against her, only to ponder upon realizing she might needlessly overwhelm the human she loves.

’…Not right away. She must be prepared to fight without a signal,’ she reasons, not ready to join just yet. ‘This is her training, not mine. I must treat it as such!’

THWAK

SKKRRRT

The Lieutenants’ final strikes come at once, the sound of wood-on-metal and a dull blade against chainmail sound as their strongest strikes stagger the princess once more. Her defenses fall at last, her ability to fight back almost entirely destroyed as she pants and strains herself to stand, only aware standing is all she can reliably do. Princess Luz knows she can’t defend against everything, but the least she can do is ensure she doesn’t let herself drop, not when she’s in a safe environment.

”You guys are… pretty good,” she compliments between breaths, refusing to fall, trying to keep herself standing. “I can see why… Amity likes you guys. No wonder you…”

”And now you’re being trained by all of us at once. Something tells me this’ll be our new norm too,” the dagger wielder points out, refusing to strike any longer. “Might wanna cool off before you pull something though, just as a suggestion, princess.”

”Precisely. I can’t say I’m a fan of your final strike, though I will say it’s proof you’ve all improved from the defenseless to proper fighters,” Commander Blight points out, proud of her men and happy to see her companion remains standing. “Now grab yourselves some water, I don’t want you dropping from thirst.”

Such insistence is met with acceptance as the three reach for their mugs.

Luz has never felt so proud and uncomfortable at the same time. Her body is physically taxed even after a proper healing session and plenty to drink, but she still refuses to move, even during her lessons, all while Commander Blight stands nearby. She pushes through the day, her eyes briefly closing as she tries and fails to keep herself awake, forced to pinch herself under her sleeves just to remain alert enough to get through the day. Nearly everything aches in her body, aware she’s been training nonstop for some time now.

Amity grows aware of such condition, concerned she may have pushed her possible love interest beyond what she’s capable of withstanding. The last thing she needs is a princess in need of a hug who can’t even stand, coming up with an idea that will soothe her aches while ensuring she remains at her best.

Once the two finally have time to spend together, they remain in Luz’s room, the princess unable to even think about anything beyond what’s in front of her as she slumps into her bed. She can’t help but notice how Amity refuses to take off her helmet for the Marshal or even the Empress, but she is comfortable doing so around her. It makes her feel special to a small extent, able to see who the soldier beyond her armor truly is, which only surprises her more when she makes a request.

”Luz, you seem tired. How about you rest right here?” the commander suggests, gesturing to her lap. “You don’t even need to do anything, just remain calm and let yourself rest.”

It takes several moments for the now-blushing princess to reply, nodding for a brief moment as she sits back up. What she doesn’t expect is for Amity to remove her leggings, exposing what appears to be a red pair of stockings beneath covering soft thighs. Never before has resting somewhere so comforting seemed so encouraging, the Paladin smiling as she takes a seat on the bed and offers the spot. The youngest Noceda can only crawl over slowly from both the aches and the hesitance to fall mentally, only to go limp the second the side of her head makes contact.

”So… soft~” she murmurs softly, unable to stop herself from covering her face. “Thanks a lot, really.”

”Had I not wanted to do this, I wouldn’t have offered to begin with,” Amity reminds her, her fingers brushing through Luz’s hair. “Just let go and I’ll keep you warm and safe~”

Amity has only let cats snuggle into her lap before, the sensation of one of her favorite humans doing so instead acting akin to a drug in her mind. She wants to smother her love with more love and more affection if this new adrenaline boost truly is worthwhile, her black-nailed digits providing the scritches she feels her companion deserves, falling further in love with the princess.

Luz can’t help but continue to nuzzle subconsciously, feeling more delicate than ever before without coming across as defenseless or fragile. Her aches move from her main thoughts to being pushed to the back of her mind, only able to think of her love for Amity and the comforting situation they’re in. She loves Amity, she can’t deny it, for a moment feeling a hand lightly grasp her wrist.

”There’s no reason to feel embarrassed. It’s just us, and nobody can say whether this is okay or not,” Amity encourages, her voice low and soft as she applies no extra force. “Such an adorable human. To think I fell in love with the woman who encouraged me to be better~”

”I… love you too,” the exhausted human murmurs, slowly revealing her deep-pink expression. “Please don’t go~ You can stay overnight if you want~”

Such an offer has never come to Amity’s mind before, though the prospect of remaining by Luz’s side has felt less and less mandatory by the day. First she was a friend, then she became her closest companion, and now they’ve fallen in love, this time without anything that can deny the fact. The green-haired elf can’t imagine a scenario where she doesn’t live with Luz for the rest of their lives, only certain that continuing to be friends at minimum will benefit the, both in the long run. She knows such thoughts have been imagined before, but not once have they faltered.

What Luz sees before she drifts off for a nap is a nodding, smiling Amity.

Chapter Text

At long last, three months have passed since Amity’s transfer to the Khelyria Palace. She doesn’t even know for certain how or why her men have improved so quickly in such little time, but she’s happy to report that despite her brutal training, each of the Knights of Khelyria has become more than worthy of being one of the Empress’s soldiers. Never before has she been so proud to train and prepare soldiers for what’s to come, to have found her place as a gear in a clock without sacrificing her mind and body.

She stands before each and every one of them, all of the soldiers tall and proud of the men they have become, and in their commander’s eyes, rightfully so. There’s little else that can be done beyond training them further, but she knows most of them must be transferred for specialized preparations and training. Nonetheless, it doesn’t mean she can’t say something to them to keep their morale high even without her; it’s the least they deserve.

”Knights of Khelyria, when I first met you, you were little more than brutes with slabs of metal for clubs. You knew how to fight, but not do so well, be it alone or with others. Part of me was even wondering whether you’d push through. However, you’ve proven to me that you’re more than worthy of remaining apart of the Noceda Empire’s army!” she congratulates, her disdain completely gone and her pride for them clearer than ever before. “You’re no longer brutes, you’re soldiers! You’re not just units anymore, you’re a united force against the malice beyond these palace walls! All you need now is to find your position in the Noceda Empire and maximize your potential, for there’s little I can do than ensure you can defend yourselves.”

Such a comment catches everyone off-guard, only for Commander Blight to clarify, “You heard me correctly: after today, you’ll be transferred out to where you’ll be specialized. Of course, as per regulations, you’re not forced to cut contact with one another; you’re being shifted about, not denied connection with one another. Don’t see it as a mere change in the status quo, see it as a way to hone yourselves into more than mere soldiers! You are here because you fight for a cause beyond yourselves, and that is something not even the Empress herself can take from you entirely! You’re knights, the most worthy lot I’ve come across in a long time, for you’ve proven yourselves more than capable in the long run.”

Theres nothing more that needs to be said. Everyone has heard what they need to, all that remains is their transfer toward what they’re best at. Maybe it’s harsh, even unfeeling thinking, but it’s what her men need; she can’t keep them as her subordinates forever, something she had to accept the day she realized they weren’t just pawns in a grander scheme.

One by one, the many soldiers all take their last moments in the courtyard as they are to move on from being mere soldiers to proper Knights of Khelyria. Be it machine pilot, archer, cannoneer, or even a better-than-average fighter, each and every man and woman has proven themselves worthy of serving the Noceda Empire. Amity is certain that whatever the near future holds, they’ll be ready for who or what may come, certain they’ll make her and the Empress proud in the long run.

Nearly three months of training in and Luz can’t help but feel proud she’s on par with the finest of soldiers. She has someone to protect, someone to protect her, and that someone in question is more than just a friend to her. She can’t help but admire how despite the past she has gone through, Commander Blight has refused to fully succumb to cruelty, channeling her rage into something productive, wondering whether she finally found someone to speak to about her thoughts.

’She can’t be forced to speak to me about them. I’m meant to be protected by her, and there’s… some things I’m not able to give proper ideas on,’ she reminds herself, hearing the door behind her open. ‘…You should trust her, she’ll let you know if she needs help.’

What she doesn’t expect, however, is for the commander to enter with an almost glum demeanor, slumping in her seat as she looks over the balcony alongside her companion.

”…Hey, what’s wrong?” the princess asks gently, placing a hand on her protector’s shoulder.

”I don’t want to see them go. The knights, I mean,” she explains in an almost sad tone, gesturing to the training grounds. “I know I’ll be training a new batch sooner or later, maybe even doing more than usual for a few of them choosing to stay, but the entire crew? Maybe it’s just me, but it feels nice being useful without needing to take lives.”

”Because you’ll be able to save them indirectly?” the tan woman replies with curiosity.

”Something like that. It takes more than a blade and a strong body to do more than fight, and I could see it in their eyes, the drive to protect rather than attack,” the green-haired elf replies with a sense of fondness. “I meant it when I said they were once a sorry lot, but I mean it now that I’ve never come across a more effective, loyal battalion before. They’re the greatest battalion not just in Khelyria, but the Noceda Empire as a whole, I’m certain of it, having seen their potential myself. In a way, that makes you one of them too, having been through the same training, just one-on-one, so to speak.”

The comprehension behind Commander Blight’s fondness for her soldiers is palpable, Luz nodding and listening, starting to see why letting go would be difficult. She could see the glee the knights were just knowing they were making her proud, how each little jab and every grand compliment turned each and every one of them into a determined, loyal unit in the battalion. She’s never seen them so cooperative with one another, and she has a certain elf to thank for that, wondering what her mother’s thoughts on the “graduation” are.

“On the bright side, at least you know you did the right thing. You even made sure they could defend themselves against different kinds of threats. I’m sure they don’t want to leave you, but they’ll make you proud somehow,” she encourages, smiling as she and Amity watch the final soldier step away from the training grounds. “I know I’m proud of your work, and you should remember that.”

”…You almost sound like the Empre… Camila,” the youngest Blight points out, less sorrowful and more determined to keep going.

”I’m her daughter and I agree with many of her beliefs. I was gonna sound a bit like her eventually,” the princess chuckles, stretching out her arms and legs before standing at attention.

A subtle laugh escapes Amity’s lips, nodding as she agrees with such statements as her mind clears up. There’s always inspections to see them again, and the lack of larger-scale training will allow her to maximize on individuals’ potential, further proof not everything needs a fully negative viewpoint. With the new month having arrived, it’s time for Luz’s training to continue toward its next phase.

”I think it’s about time we get started, don’t you think?” she notes, taking the chance to stand as well.

Dwelling on the soldiers won’t make their transfer disappear, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to do in the meantime. She still has one soldier who needs training.

Luz knows the basics on how to defend herself while holding the right stance. She knows how to defend against different types of weapons despite her sword and shield being all she would wield. The princess has recently mastered facing multiple enemies at once without falling in combat. Minor details from where to strike and even knowing when and where to dodge have been ingrained, turning a once-defenseless royal into a young woman more than capable of facing someone bigger and stronger than herself. She is no longer to be a standard soldier if she is to be trained further, but Amity wouldn’t have it any other way, confident in her refusal to truly quit and her hope to prove herself will bring her further than almost anyone she’s ever trained.

The Clawthorne Sisters watch from above, the Empress herself wishing to see just what her youngest has been doing all this time. The latter knows she managed to aid in defending herself and her friends, the would-be kidnappers sentenced to a number of years for their stunt, but she wants to know how it was done. What she doesn’t expect, however, is for Commander Blight to hand her child sturdier armor, low-grade platemail, and a stone club carved into a sword, raising her concern. What is the purpose beyond her new training?

Her answer comes with the sight of her Head Alchemist and Marshal’s hands glowing, the former with a grin and the latter with a perplexed grimace.

”Luz, I have taught you everything you need to defend yourself in most scenarios. It matters little whether your sword and shield are made from paper or steel, you’ll ensure your own safety, and the safety for the future, just by staying alive,” Amity congratulates, noticing her friend’s slow ease into adjusting to the heavier equipment. “The knights have been training with stronger weapons and heftier gear, thus strengthening their bodies and resolve, contrasting your chainmail and wooden gear. Fortunately, it’s never too late to bolster your own strength, but then I wondered: what else could come for you? That is why the Head Alchemist and Marshal Clawthorne will be here.”

Both sides wave to one another, the golden-eyed soldier looking up to give her own acknowledgement.

”They’ll be lobbing their weakest spells at you. Even the smallest bursts of magic can alter the tide of battle, which is why you must ensure your body and mind can handle such a force,” Amity explains in a colder tone, albeit never losing its warmth entirely. “It’s your first day with this kind of training, just as it has always has been for each regiment, so don’t stress too much just yet. Head Alchemist! Marshal!”

The Empress never expected the commander to take her task as seriously as she has so far, keeping silent and observing as her most powerful allies launch lesser spells at the princess. A small surge of frigid beams are directed forth, the princess almost defenseless as she is immediately rushed by Commander Blight. The latter’s branch and the former’s sword clash, the princess keeping her eyes on both her family and her teacher; she refuses to fall so easily.

”Not everyone will choose to wait for one to stop attacking before striking themselves! You need to take what opportunities you have and defeat your enemy as best as you can!” Amity states loudly, a patch of grass buried in snow. “Don’t let the Clawthorne’s land an attack! You remember your training, just know you won’t always be able to defeat everyone you come across! Focus on the one you can defeat!”

”Go Luz!” Eda shouts, able to hear the weapons strike against one another beyond the spells.

Empress Camila can’t help but watch with intrigue, how not once does her daughter allow a strike to land upon her. Even while weighted down, the youngest Noceda manages to push through both her armor and the slow, steady barrage of snow. She didn’t expect her closest confidants to agree to training, though she can’t deny the results either way, able to tell her youngest is slow but steady, only speeding up when possessing enough stamina.

The tan woman’s skin grows cold upon feeling a beam connect with her copper shield, only barely moving her slab of metal fast enough to block her friend’s “greatsword”. She can feel her body grow exhausted already, a side effect of having used lightweight equipment for months on end, glad she’ll be able to do more soon. It’s only a matter of time before she’s on par with her teacher, to prove she’s able to protect the Commander herself.

”That’s it! You’re slow, but you're careful! You haven’t been directly struck yet!” Amity praises, striking from above, the clash of wood-on-metal piercing the air. “Don’t allow yourself to soften yet, you still have more to worry about beyond myself!”

The eldest Noceda’s curiosity only grows watching the display before her, intrigued by both her commander and her daughter refusing to falter. Neither do they aim for needless blows nor do they back down, Luz using her smaller size and prior training to strike her friend in her legs, seeming to stun her before jabbing her blade forward, sending her staggering backwards as the clinks of her armor alone sound her descent.

Amity doesn’t allow her own weakness to become her downfall, her attacks now splintering her branch with every successful swing. A side blow cracks the base, an overhead slash tears away at the bark, a jab destroys the tip, the ferocity briefly surprising the Owl Lady before she continues firing. Lilith can’t help but grow intrigued, firing behind her commander as Eda lobs shots behind her daughter figure.

Luz can feel her shield dent with each impact, her stone sword crumbling with each strike. Not yet has she been struck down, but she’s forced on the defensive, her exhaustion catching up to her. Her loved ones are watching, knowing they wish to see just what she and her friend can do, but she doesn’t delude herself into thinking she can defeat a seasoned combatant like Amity. Even so, it doesn’t mean she can’t do nothing, hardening her stance as she focuses all her energy toward defending herself.

A short break and training for the day nearly finishing later, all three higher-ups notice the stalemate. Neither can the future empress push through the soldier’s defenses without risking being hit by the aerial shots nor can the commander break through her defenses without causing needless harm. Amity’s branch is almost useless, Luz’s shield and stone sword nearly nothing more than rubble and scrap. It’s clear that despite the training, the both of them agree not to cause unjust harm or use prohibited skills, much to the Empress’s intrigue. She can see the dedication in how they move, how they act, only able to tell only one of them will be forced to fall.

The one to finally drop from exhaustion is Luz, her defense rendered a slab of copper with a deep gap and her method of attack only suitable for one proper strike. She refuses to go down without a fight however, swinging with all her might against her friend’s side, shattering the stone sword on impact with her teacher’s armor. Luz’s trainer finally destroys her branch, rendered naught but splinters upon her collision with her favorite princess’s chestplate, sending her sprawled across the ground, unwittingly hit by the silver-haired elf’s snow blasts. With the princess buried in snow, she has finally fallen once more, having suffered fewer training injuries than ever before but sorer than ever to “compensate”.

Once more, Luz feels as if she’s pushed herself to her limit, this time as if her body will break if she so much as twitches incorrectly. She has only seen such ferocity around her protector’s trainees, directed in all ways at once, only this time she has directed a portion of such ferocity at her, and she couldn’t be happier. Knowing she could only have made the slightly-panting Paladin so dedicated if she pushed herself means she did what she set out to do, looking up at the alchemist and military leader, both visibly proud of their loved one’s accomplishment. Commander Blight takes a seat beside her and brushing away some of the snow, wanting her companion to rest long enough to stand, even if only for a minute.

”You didn’t tell me she could do that! Are you sure Manny didn’t cast some kind of spell before he left?” Eda compliments, patting the surprised Empress’s shoulder.

”I said training Luz would be a wise decision, but never before have I expected such dedication from both her and her teacher. It’s…”

”Brutal but efficient. I’ve never seen her so excited before,” Lilith points out, “even while so exhausted. And Amity’s comments. Listen.”

All three of them pay further attention, hearing the armored elf below praise, “You couldn’t make me fall once even after all this time. However, something tells me you’ll do just fine should the worst come to be. You’ve fallen only once all this time, even despite your aches and trembles. It almost makes me wonder whether you’ve been enhanced earlier in life or your determination and interests have honed your mind and body to their limits. I think this may be your best work yet, and it’s only your first day with this new process!”

Camila can see the connection between her daughter and her commander, her eagerness impossible to hide watching as they get along so well. She hears her daughter speak next.

”And… you held back that much? No wonder you didn’t wanna hurt me,” the princess comments between breaths, her hand grasping Amity’s gauntlet. “Thanks. And… wow~ No wonder I fell for you~”

Aches follow, making it hard for Luz to even move. She can’t so much as push herself off the now-frigid ground, the lack of noticeable injuries alone confirming her body has been pushed to its limit. Before she can come down to check on her however, she pauses to witness Amity do something not even Eda could anticipate.

Commander Blight lightly carries her favorite student in her arms, her firm yet tender hold keeping her princess safe. Luz can only stare upward with a dumbfounded expression, her blush impossible to hide as she freezes, feeling treasured in more ways than one. She doesn’t dare struggle, both too sore to budge and too awestruck to even want to escape her love’s grasp. She wants to be held for as long as she allows, even if it means not needing to see her leave.

Above the two, the Empress, the Head Alchemist, and the Marshal can’t help but wonder when they’ll get married in the future.

Chapter Text

The next day comes and Luz can only groan as she sits up in her bed. Memory of yesterday’s training return to her mind, alongside the key detail of her being carried bridal-style by Commander Blight, leading her to blush once more. The thought disappears, however, once she tries standing, feeling herself ache all over her body as a result thanks to strenuous training. She's felt sore before, enough to need a few minutes to get moving, but this ache is borderline excruciating, leaving her groaning and briefly whimpering.

A knock at the door sounds out, no doubt a guard checking in on her. Fortunately, her vocal chords aren't among the muscles in her body that require rest.

"I... I can't get up!" she calls, immediately clarifying, "I-I'm not in danger! Just... you know, sore!"

The door opens to reveal the spearman and dagger-wielding Lieutenants standing between the Commander, her golden eyes indicating worry. Part of her worries she may have pushed her princess beyond what she's meant to handle by accident, only able to stand a short distance before her friend. Her soldiers remain just outside the room, perplexed by her entry without so much as a reprimand.

"Perhaps it's best you rest for today. Anymore strain and you may get yourself hurt, be it by training or moving the wrong way," she warns, her tone softer than usual.

"N-No, I'll be okay," the princess insists, trying to sit up before letting herself fall into bed once again. "...You know what? A break day wouldn't be too bad."

Part of her feels ashamed knowing she can't fight any longer. She knows she hasn't fought as long or as hard as her protector, but that doesn't mean she can't try. However, if it means preventing herself from getting further wounded thanks to her own pride, she doesn't see a reason to disobey her insistence. It's then she turns to the other guards, her tone having returned to commanding.

"Lieutenant Heinz, bring me a stamina potion, healing potion, and a bowl of sliced fruits. Lieutenant Pines, send out a message to my superiors that the Princess cannot train; she's ill," she instructs the two, leaving no room for argument. "I'll continue my duty as her protector in the meanwhile."

Both soldiers nod before stepping out of view to complete their duties, closing the bedroom door on their way out. It leaves the commander a proper chance to take off her helmet and gauntlets, her gentler demeanor more apparent as she presses the back of her hand along Luz's forehead. The warm contact is more than enough to make the youngest Noceda to nuzzle slightly, mesmerized by the affection, unable to get enough of her love's affection. Maybe it's selfish, but she doesn't want it to end, not for a second.

"Hmm... There's no fever at least, so you should be fine by tomorrow," the green-haired elf comments, noticing her friend's love for physical contact, feeling her own heart beat faster. "...You make it incredibly difficult to refrain from smothering you with love, Luz. Don't worry about anything, I'll be by your side the entire day, at least until it's time I prepare some stew."

The pinkish hue across Luz's face only grows deeper, a sign such words are affecting her mind and body. The idea of spending time being coddled all because she's sore feels both wrong and right, yet she refuses to let it show completely. Love interest or not, her protector is still carrying out a duty; her task is not solely for her own benefit.

Amity can see the emotional fascination, lightly cupping her friend's cheek as she purrs softly, wanting to show it's alright to feel as she does. She doesn't feel burdened by her friend's current state, and if it means ensuring they're both safe, then so be it. She loves the princess too much to consider caring for her when she's ill a bothersome task, finding her adorable as she tries and fails to sit up.

"No you don't. You'll be resting for as long as it takes," she gently scolds, never applying too much pressure to her arms. "Think of this as repaying the favor of giving me a break. I may feel close to my full power when fighting, but you remind me there's more to life than fighting or honing my skills. The least I can do is remind you that such thinking goes both ways, don't you think~?"

The princess remembers such a day quite well, how not only has she learned more of Amity, but how she was more certain she's not a monster. She needed a chance to prove herself at the very least, and now she's aiming to return the favor, at least in a small manner. She can't help but smile, realizing how the roles are reversed, as she lets herself lay in bed, unable to turn away from Amity.

"That's better. I'm sure you'll be bored sitting in here for the next twenty-four hours or so, so perhaps it's best we find something for you to do. Assuming we find such a method of course," the commander comments, briefly looking around for anything that piques her interest.

It's then Amity spots a row of books along her friend's bookshelf, each detailing a story on the Good Sorceress Azura, lined oldest to newest from left to right. She takes out the fifth entry and notices a gleam in the princess's eyes upon realizing her protector's intent. Such glee is interrupted by a knock on the door, Amity exhaling slowly before sliding on her gauntlets and helmet.

"State your business!" she calls, refusing to risk leaving her princess vulnerable.

"It's Camila. Please open up," the mother responds from the other side, concern laced in her voice. "Mi Bebe isn't feeling well, the least I can do is check on her."

Such confirmation is all Amity needs to pat her friend's shoulder and open the door, revealing the Empress alongside the Lieutenants, having already returned. Commander Blight is both annoyed and impressed by their swift completion of their tasks, having expected them to take at least several more minutes. She nods to show acknowledgement to her soldiers as the Empress checks on Luz, refusing to intrude upon the mother and daughter.

It took nearly an hour and word of preparations to be made for Camila to finally leave Luz and Amity be, the Lieutenants at least having a story to tell their peers. Amity remembers how she was healed and cured of poison almost two months prior, noticing how Luz isn't showing nearly as many signs of pain.

"Is everything alright?" she asks with curiosity.

"Yeah. Mom just used a pain-relieving spell so I'm not uncomfortable," Luz confirms finally able to move around a little, holding her hand out to prove her point. "It's not perfect, so it's best I don't do too much, but it's a lot better than not being allowed to move at all. Maybe it's a more specialized spell? I dunno."

Amity doesn't recall hearing of such a spell before, pondering such a thought for several moments as she watches Luz bite into an apple. She suspects anything more strenuous than lifting her arms or legs a little will result in the almost crippling aches she's seen before, but without having ever seen the spell's effects in action before, she can only speculate for the time being.

"Now then, where were we?" Amity absentmindedly comments, opening up Luz's book. "Ah, right."

It feels strange for some to read a story to a grown woman, but it feels just right doing such a thing for the woman she loves. Commander Blight’s just happy knowing she’s protecting one of the humans who made her life meaningful, proof there’s always a chance for redemption if she works long and hard enough. A bittersweet twinge of rage boils up as she reads a passage about a more dangerous villain, recalling how not everyone seeks redemption; they simply don’t want to change.

’…No, keep calm. Luz has given you a chance and that’s all that matters,’ she reminds herself, refusing to let her thoughts consume her. ‘She’s here, she’s safe, and you’re going to make her off-day a special one even if it kills you! Not literally, of course.’

Just reading for her love heals her soul more than she once thought, just wanting to make her break from relentless training all the more bearable. She can see her appetite even from here, only the seeds and stem of the apple remaining as she listens intently. Everyone from the side cast to the main foes to even Hecate are given a subtle indication to ensure no doubts on who’s speaking at one time, the commander noticing the awe in the small human’s eyes.

The princess, meanwhile, can’t help but notice how happy Amity feels despite her position. She could have stayed nearby and spoken with her, but here she is providing entertainment for the sake of making her feel better. It makes her feel important, her hand lightly grasping Amity’s as she reads, a small blush creeping along her cheeks as a result.

”Hey, thanks for staying with me,” Luz murmurs softly, unable to look away.

Amity can’t hide her own smile, replying, “I’m merely repaying you.”

”I think saving Mom and I when you had no real reason to has to count for something,” the princess replies with a hint of teasing. “See? I knew there was good in you.”

The green-haired elf doesn’t deny such a thing, just glad she really isn’t a monster and that her favorite humans are safe. She knows such simple thinking only begs for trouble, though she remains convinced there will always be a positive outcome so long as she strives and works for it. She didn’t save the only people she knows to like her for them to be lost, all the more reason to defend the Noceda Empire and its people: she has people to protect.

About noon arrives and Amity couldn’t help herself. She has Luz sitting in her lap, armor off her, and nobody around who could possibly possess the ability to interrupt such an occasion. Luz has never expected to grow so intimate without becoming vulgar or overly risqué, but here she is ultimately submissive to someone snobbier nobles would consider lower rank. All she sees is someone who loves her who wants to care for her, and that matters more to her than some superficial rank in her eyes.

It’s not often Amity reveals herself beyond her armor, not even allowing her family to have seen her dressed as anything but a soldier. A simple black dress with short sleeves, a small skirt of a matching color, and red leggings, possibly stockings, complete her attire. Only her boots remain of her armor, the elf finally embracing Luz to the fullest, the both of them unable to think of any other way of snuggling up. It feels nice for the both of them, not needing to worry about anything from the outside world to others who could interrupt their time together. Break from training or not, they hope to repeat this process once more in the future.

”Wow… You’re so soft~” the youngest Noceda whispers, growing drowsy by the second. “I never wanna let go~”

”Neither do I. It feels… strange, but nice, holding you like this,” the towering woman replies, her voice at ease. “I’ll never be able to truly express my love.”

”We can… try something at some point later on. At least then. We’ll know if we want each other that much,” Luz encourages, unable to stop fidgeting from nervousness, her heart racing. “Just… please don’t let go.”

She can’t help but find it entertaining that Amity’s own blush has spread across her entire face, an almost reddish-pink. It reminds her of a tomato, possibly a strawberry, the princess nuzzling deeper into her neck. She can’t stop embracing her protector, growing addicted to the knowledge and the experience, the feeling proving mutual as the youngest Blight holds her close and tenderly. She doesn’t aim to let go until they must eat, but that doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy themselves. Luz doesn’t even remember feeling aches beyond a mild sting, happy knowing her time has healed her mind and body, and Amity feels more at ease than ever before.

”…I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?” Amity murmurs softly, not used to cuddling anyone.

”Of course not. You’re okay too, right?” Luz replies, wanting her best friend to feel alright as well.

A single nod quells what little worries there once were, leading to further embracing.

Even without training, Luz and Amity’s bond has strengthened further still.

Chapter Text

It's been maybe a month since her imprisonment. She can't be certain, she's lost track of time since she's been forced into her cell. No matter what she pleads, no matter what she offers, there isn't a single thing the highest authority of the human empire either doesn't or can't have. Even the prospect of amnesty within certain parts of elven territories falls on deaf ears, desiring only to expand outside the continent.

Such counters to Odalia's claims have only embittered her and enhanced her desire for retribution. She has never been felled by her own kind, at least in part thanks to her traitor of a daughter, and now she's been betrayed both by her and captured by the very humans she aimed to oust from power. She could have had it all, from the mightiest army in terms of physical might to the greatest weapons the world has never seen. Syndura's populace was a profitable hotspot for her operations, but now she's lost even that. There isn't any doubt in her mind that word has spread of her exploits, no doubt having reached her husband and remaining children as well. Her entire plan, from the day she became the Blight Family's matriarch, has amounted to nothing as far as she's concerned. She lost her battle.

Her war, however, has yet to begin. Plans for what's to come are still underway, the final card in her deck. What she hasn't expected was for her plan to begin so late in the timeline. She had expected her allies to have arrived far sooner, a day or two at most after her capture, not however long it's been. In the meantime, she's been listening to her other locked-up peers droning on about their own woes and exploits.

"Not gonna lie, I expected the Owl Lady to dose me with that poison. I personally wonder if she got rid of the poison altogether and just made it look like she adjusted the taste," the last of Odalia's mercenaries recounts, sitting back on his cell's cot. "Either way, she got what she wanted. Some things are just not worth the risk."

Odalia refuses to hold her tongue at such a display of weakness, calling out, "Coward."

"Coward?!" a would-be kidnapper barks, insulted by such a statement. "Yeah we screwed up, but we heard what you did! Where were you when my buddies and I were trying to grab the princess?! We were gonna instigate war, yeah, but we had a cause! You're just a-!"

"Don't bother, you heard the Marshal. She's the true coward and will refute any and all claims with supposed logic," another kidnapper interrupts, refusing to give the matriarch further say. "We're all paying for our crimes and that's all that will matter. The last thing we need is to make our situation worse."

Only then does the chattering grow muted, thus preventing what little entertainment the elf had from being heard once more. She can't berate flaws if she doesn't know what they are, neither can she convince them to listen to her further given they know what she's like. Her power has waned further than she could've anticipated, her mind brewing with further rage and hate. Odalia can't think of anything more than making every last prisoner in this once-unused part of the palace pay with their lives for their transgressions, slumping in place as she understands such plans are mere fantasy. Said fantasy may be the only thing comforting her, even if slightly.

chink

chink

chink

Her thoughts turn toward a slight clink somewhere in her cell, her bonds preventing her from moving further than the back wall. The most she can do is try to focus on where the intrusion may be coming from. The last thing she needs is more unwanted surprises, keeping her on-guard as she tries to find out who or what is causing the noise.

'No word of any escape attempts from the peasants has surfaced. The guards have been thorough in their search for contraband. Even the 'kidnappers' were little more than thugs, they're not intelligent enough to pull off such attempts without attracting attention,' she recalls, not even considering the subordinate to a crew that couldn't kill a single person. '...Perhaps they're not in the dungeon at all. That means...'

chink

chink

chink

The noise grows louder, soon landing toward the back of the cell, just beneath Odalia. She tries to adjust herself to avoid potential harm, the bonds alone keeping her in place as the tip of a pickaxe digs through, no longer digging further. Part of Odalia wishes to scream bloody murder, her panic and confusion quickly turning to realization as her eyes peer down into the hole, the tool disappearing into the darkness.

'...About time,' she grumbles internally before whispering with anger, "What took you so long?"

Odalia's cell door opens swiftly as the Head Alchemist takes a closer look, expecting perhaps an invisibility spell or even simple camouflage. No signs of her presence remain, however, serving to prove she has indeed escaped, but she doesn't see an immediate reason as to why; only her binding chains and ropes remain. Word of an escapee isn't something she despises, only leading to further paperwork and less time around her favorite humans, and this particular missing woman is a danger to the empire itself.

"Great. Just when things were getting bad already," she grumbles to herself, pointing toward the guards and ordering in a booming voice, "I want a full sweep of the palace and nearby grounds, five miles! If you so much as smell her perfume, I want you warn me immediately!"

Nobody dares object, everyone from rank-and-file soldiers to one or two captains marching off to complete their tasks save for the assigned dungeon guards. If one could escape, so could the others, leaving them on edge as their superior takes a closer look around the cell, her own caution impossible to hide.

'No clear escape route... Right, she had a plan, probably went to them,' she recalls, refusing to believe such an alliance couldn't have aided her. 'How did she slip out though?'

The Owl Lady grabs the chain, inspecting it for clues, before spotting a break in the links, confirming they could be shattered. A brief glance of the rope confirms it to have been cut, most likely with a knife, the lack of scents in the room confirming nothing from acids to fires to have been used. The subtle sensation of rubble beneath her feet catches her attention, however. She expressly recalls demands for the cell to have been maintained before having Odalia thrown within.

'There's the hint. All rubble comes from somewhere.'

Eda doesn't dare step outside the cell lest she lose track of her clues. Flecks of stone and pebbles from the darkened walls' lining make it clear the cause came from the back wall, crouching down before dumping the contents of a failed potion across the ground. Something came to be, and she doesn't aim to let anyone escape her grasp, not longer than must be.

Her suspicions are confirmed upon noticing the faulty brew's contents drain away toward the center of the wall, reaching down before grabbing hold of the edge. One swift tug is all she needed before a tunnel is at last exposed, the cacophonous clattering alerting everyone within the dungeon. The guards can only stare in surprise as she stands once more before gesturing to the hole, her expression grim as she shakes her head.

"Don't cancel the search just in case we come across something useful," she warns them, in disbelief with both the situation she's found herself in. "We're gonna need repairs though, along with a notice to concoct a more precise tracking spell."

The only benefit she can think of is that nobody was wounded during the escape, the situation's context more bitter than sweet given just who escaped.

Thanks to the delicate peace that has lasted ever since Empress Camila's rise to the throne, any and all attempts at harm have been catalogued and publicized. Transparency has done favors for the elven empire's own trust, a similar policy of making public threats from traitors to invaders made known. As such, attempts on the royal families have been made some of the first things to be marked, ensuring a similar war of distrust and terror never comes to be again, so long as the peace remains.

It's for these reasons why Odalia's breakout have been made public; anyone who provides information for her immediate recapture will be rewarded, and those aiding her will be fined or imprisoned, dependent upon the case's severity. A mere hour has passed, and in that time the entirety of Khelyria is on high-alert, the prowess the noblewoman possesses encouraging the weaker citizens to hide. Bounty hunters and soldiers alike keep watch over every building they find, aiming to find everyone and everything that could lead to the elf's immediate arrest.

To their detriment, however, while Odalia is indeed still within human territory, she isn't anywhere near Khelyria, satisfied to have been brought away underground. She once thought such a method would make her less than worthy, only for her to see the benefit as she watches her foes squirm like boars in a burning yard. She has her contact to thank for her rescue, crossing her arms as she turns to meet the one to have orchestrated their plan. Despite his aged voice and golden mask,

"I understand you may be infuriated to know just when and where your rescue took you. Security was bolstered, thus preventing another method from becoming viable in retrieving you," the director recounts, shaking his head as he recalls such news. "It seems we'll have to bump up our time table soon, with or without the results you insisted would have transpired."

"You've surely seen why my master plan failed to begin with, yes?" Odalia argues, suspecting her part of the deal has been questioned. "It was my-!"

"-daughter, yes. Commander Amity Blight, the one to not only have betrayed you, but to have brought you before Empress Camila Noceda herself. She had you tried as a potential terrorist, meant to be sent to your kind's empire for sentencing," Philip recounts, amused yet frustrated at the same time. "How ironic, claiming your kind to be better yet finding her serving humans of her own free will. I'd say she knew her place, but it's clear she has become too dangerous an asset to keep."

Such a detail couldn't be more true even if she could imagine such a scenario. For over a century, she's been trying to ensure Amity would only obey those like her, into a woman who would either serve or become a ruthless warrior. Now she's grown soft, but only around the very thing she once swore to destroy, and now she's betrayed the Blight name in her eyes. Her child's betrayal is simply unforgivable, something that must be mended immediately. Thoughts of sending someone to finish the job discreetly just seem incredibly unlikely, if not impossible, given her escape has triggered an empire-wide search for her.

"For the better, preparations are nearly complete. All we need now is the right time to strike," the human administrator states, just glad he and his associate have a common goal. "It's a miracle our machines are as useful as they are, otherwise you'd have not even a small battalion to follow you into combat. It will have to be utilized to the fullest, and if what I've heard is correct, a common goal is all you can truly rely on."

The only things keeping Odalia from throttling Belos is his words; all of them hold weight to them. Even other crooks look down upon her as if she's the unforgivable one, as if the human empire had been nothing but innocent this entire time. She can't forgive their cowardice and incompetence, having been willing to break them out had they proved loyal. Now she must rely on flimsy war machines, not even true magic, just to have a reliable shot at triggering the war once more. She can't go back to peace, not with so much on the line as is. However, it doesn't mean she can't provide her own spin on things.

"...Might I suggest destroying the bridge?" she points out.

"Out of the question. That bridge is our only way to reach the palace," the director retorts, annoyed by such flimsy logic. "What purpose could it possess?"

"We might not be able to get in, but neither can they get out. I hope you have several boats to reconvene and gather your well-earned gains," the matriarch points out, a smirk growing across her lips. "The water may be your only hope. Just pray they don't sink your vessels, that's my only advice for your troops."

The last thing Director Belos wants is for needless casualties on his side; payment for services or not, a living soldier's more useful than a dead one. However, if he can prevent more soldiers from flooding out the palace and across the bridge, he could prevent more deaths on his side than he once thought. The risk of water is his only downside, lacking many boats thanks to the simple lack of need for them, confident he can simply find someone to purchase their vessels from.

The time to strike is almost at hand, and Odalia couldn't be happier, even if there's a delay with the change of plans.

Chapter Text

Camila knows there isn’t anything she can do to completely prevent war, only look at everything and attempt to come up with a satisfying compromise. Not everyone will agree with them, she’s more than aware it would take nothing less than a miracle to work, but it’s the least she can do to show the past will be learned from. Xadia has seen more than its fair share of war and strife, and she aims to prevent another such war from consuming everything both human and elven descendants had created thus far.

It’s this such reasoning that has made her believe war preparation was absolutely necessary. She knows what even a single person is capable of doing, be it end a war or start one, and slaying a peacekeeper is more than enough for the afflicted to demand their bloodlust be quenched. Doing nothing will only display weakness, proof her enemy will see an easy target and slaughter everything and everyone in their way for even a hope at achieving their goals. There’s more at stake than resources or land in her eyes.

’This is about Xadia, not only the Noceda Empire,’ the Empress rationalizes, overlooking the mobilization of the empire’s war machines. ‘We can’t go back to the dark ages. Luz doesn’t deserve to witness such horrors, nobody does…’

The memory of witnessing her subjects get cut down haunts her dreams, the nightmares of the continent being forced to live through such trauma once more keeping her awake at night. The eldest Noceda considers forcing someone to live through such memories immoral, only that learning of such a time is what one deserves to know.

Her gratitude for information on who’s after her and her daughter brings her a touch of relief, aware there’s still a chance to avert the worst possible outcome. Odalia and her allies are no doubt forming their army, which allows for her time and energy to prepare both mentally and physically. There’s still a chance to prevent war, only regretting that her potential soon-to-be-fallen won’t be there to witness the era of clear peace.

’…Don’t dwell on it. You can’t save everyone, you of all people should know that. It’s a civil war at best and a direct war at worst,’ the mother reminds herself, recalling how her husband fell. ‘The only way to prevent further bloodshed is to make a quick, decisive victory. One more stain on Xadia to be wiped out, one more stain to wipe away for the future’s clean slate.’

Nothing short of a miracle can divert the battle to come, even a short one, unless everyone’s beliefs changed overnight. Such things only exist in stories such as the Cosmic Frontiers texts and the Azura tales. The most that can be done is to replicate them over time and pray to whatever deity exists that such an approach works in the long run.

She refuses to sit by and do nothing, searching for one of her personal machines to aid in the effort. Even if it’s small, the least her subjects deserve is a fighting chance. She didn’t earn the trust and respect of her subjects just to throw it away out of cowardice.

It’s been a number of months since the Owl Lady has been on a solo mission, which only makes her all the more eager to find out where a certain matriarch disappeared off to. She can’t guarantee her newish faction will be large or even powerful, but any information on the Noceda Empire’s greatest enemy is better than a lack thereof. One illumination spell later and she’s finally underground, prepared to capture her prey at best and scout ahead at worst.

Eda refuses to allow for her family to be unprepared for what’s to come. She knows she can’t find everything in a given scenario without somewhere to look, the knowledge even standard details can save entire battalions preventing her from panicking as she overlooks the tunnel sweep. A single day has passed, and in that time she’s come across several false trails, proof in her eyes that Odalia’s retrieval was vital to whatever plan is to come.

The low percentage of smooth edges and abundance of chunks tells the Head Alchemist that the enemy largely lacks magic, most likely possessing machines at large. She sees a need to apply rust spells to her sister’s soldiers’ projectiles, something to slow them down before their coming devastation leads to further casualties. The depth and age of the walls makes it clear the excavation was very much intentional from the start, weeks-old stone fragments and recovered fossils proving as much. It leads her to believe the empire’s opposition will have already prepared to some degree prior to the fight.

’We have plenty of resources, high morale, and a few plans in case they try anything funny. Still gotta worry about the bridge,’ she rationalizes, uncovering a potion before gathering a nearby bone sample. ‘No matter, we can just rig it should the enemies try anything; might leave them open for a trick of our own. Those poor saps.’

Supports toward what may be the end of the tunnel signal to the silver-haired elf that her objective is nearly complete. The subtle taps from footsteps above signals a lack of distress, low chatter and triumphant cheers suggesting morale is high. The entrance to her opponents is blocked off by a combination of boulders and iron doors, no doubt meant to hide an operation, wherever said operation is.

’That’s it? Not even gonna destroy the cave you dug out?’ Eda balks, amused by the oversight as she uncorks a vial. ‘This is almost too easy. Alright, who’s the poor sap who thinks they’ll bring down Cammy’s empire?’

She doesn’t need to go overboard and draw unwanted attention, dousing the upper part of the entryway, the iron rusting away to give the Owl Lady a peek within. The sight of cheering soldiers and miners in the dozens confirms Odalia has allies, their round ears and comparably short stature indicating the Blight matriarch has employed more humans than they once thought. Triangular gold emblems across the backs of the men’s clothes only confirms the Owl Lady’s suspicions.

’…Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need to double down for what’s to come,’ she rationalizes with disdain, immediately turning and heading back to the palace.

The sooner they cause a cave-in to prevent an underground invasion, the better.

No two soldiers are exactly the same. Some will have grown in a privileged environment, others will be hardened by a less forgiving life, but all will have reasons for fighting for a cause they believe in. It’s for this reason Lilith has come to respect humans over time, having witnessed their determination to push forward and aim for a greater goal than themselves alone. Camila’s drive to prevent further bloodshed, to end the conflict once and for all, has appealed to the Clawthorne Sisters, the Marshal in particular striving to finish battles directly by aiming for their icons, their leaders.

However, the centuries of conflict have made her witness what just one battle can do, refusing to allow for any more lives to be lost than necessary. She knows all too well a deathless conflict is mere fantasy, using her outrage toward the continuance of death to fuel her drive, to prevent her fallen comrades’ fates from ending up meaningless. If their families don’t get to see them, the least they deserve is the knowledge they’ve done something great in the long run.

Marshal Clawthorne watches as Amity’s men hone their skills and carry out their daily duties, mentally preparing for what’s to come. Each and every one of them has prepared for what’s to come to some degree, either having been hardened by experiences or strengthened by rigorous training, all aiming to end the conflict quickly and decisively if possible. The dawn of a new era is coming, and letting such an era escape the next generation’s lifetime is the last thing on their minds.

She can’t help but admire their unity, how they refuse to abandon one of their own. Never before have they cooperated so well or completed their duties so thoroughly until the youngest Blight came along. Everything is under control for the most part, the knights’ preparations coming underway, morale at an all-time high. The elder Clawthorne Sister knows watching them won’t make them work any harder or faster, but she can’t stop; helmet, no helmet, armor, no armor, sword, shield, spear, bow, elf, human, it matters not to the higher-up. They’re all people striving for a single cause, people with lives beyond the Noceda Empire’s goals.

The most Lilith knows she can do is ensure casualties are kept to a minimum. Odalia aims to render everything the empire and its people have done for nothing, something she can never forgive, and if it means going to war, so be it. Only the knowledge her drive to end all related future wars prevents her from balking at the idea she’s given herself, keeping herself busy overseeing her men’s tasks as they keep one another going.

’…This is true humankind and elfkind,’ she rationalizes, refusing to believe otherwise after all she’s seen. ‘Fighting for a noble cause. Odalia, if you wish to live, you’d be wise to return to the eastern half of Xadia and never return. We won’t let you go.’

If she must die to see Xadia reach species-wide unity, so be it.

Her intrigue grows upon spotting the Empress searching one of the machines’ bays, immediately understanding upon seeing her use a levitation spell to carry a triangular device.

Another day, another session of keeping her favorite humans safe and training a certain princess. Amity never before thought she would personally strive to protect a human of all creatures, but here she is aiming to defend an entire empire of them. When she was at her lowest, their royalty gave her the opportunity to prove her worth, to prove she’s more than a murderous madwoman. She finally can claim she’s on her way toward redemption, and keeping Luz safe is her best bet at ensuring her morality remains intact.

It’s what she tells herself at least. Commander Blight knows she can’t keep fighting forever, just that at the end of the day, she’s not unstoppable. She is certain that at any moment, she could give into her darker impulses and snuff the life out of the nearest perceived threat. The green-haired soldier doesn’t even need to be provoked directly, just thinking about her worst enemies ie enough to enrage her on the inside, reminding her she’ll never truly be rid of her rage. Some forms of anger won’t just vanish overnight.

A slumbering princess, snuggled up atop her chest, keeps her from dwelling on such ideas. She reminds the commander that she’ll never be a monster again, at last fighting for something noble, someone who will appreciate her. Her father, brother, and sister, despite their efforts to cheer her up, were a temporary solution at best, unsure how to truly grasp redemption. Here, holding onto her princess, her true allegience, is all she needs. She doesn’t demand she kill for her, she doesn’t even demand loot be brought to her, just that she be given company until she’s needed for another task by one of her family members.

’…No,’ she reminds herself. ‘There’s still hope for everyone.’

The youngest Blight can’t stop thinking about Luz’s words during her first days. She has no reason to treat all around her with respect or even kindness. She had no reason to display her beliefs or even feign a relationship. Her desire to know her had no motive beyond wanting to know who her protector is, much like her mother just prior. The princess outright desires to show kindness for the sake of kindness, believing that if cruelty can have a similar approach, why can’t the inverse? It’s proof there doesn’t need to be mindless cruelty any longer, that the new era has no room for someone prepared to take something precious away. Amity can’t stop purring thinking about one of her favorite humans, listening to her soft breaths, knowing she’s safe for the time being.

The knowledge her mother wants to take it away only serves to fuel the commander’s fury. Nothing less than a deity will be required to end the golden-eyed elf’s rampage should she see the woman again, and if it means ending a war in favor of a brighter future for Luz, she’ll do it. There’s more to life than being a weapon, something she knows she should have understood long ago.

’…I’ll survive,’ she reminds herself, a new thought coming to mind. ‘If I’m dead, I’ll never repay my debt. Luz doesn’t want me to die. It’s not too late to atone and help bring forth a bright future.’

She has reason beyond justice and fury to fight, more than prepared for whatever may come.

Luz can see it in her family’s eyes; dread, fear, rage, optimism, sorrow, determination, and everything in-between and spliced together. They won’t allow a psychopathic woman, regardless of her origins, to take away what they’ve worked for across their lives. Hushed tones whenever she’s nearby make it clear they don’t want her involved, at least directly, just that she’s to be spared for what’s to come. She respects their desire to protect her, but she hates not being able to help.

‘I’ve been training for situations like this! I just need to know what’s going on, I want to help!’ she mumbles internally, hating how selfish she might sound. ‘It’s my empire too, the least I can do is prove my worth… right?’

She shakes the thought, refusing to stand by as she watches Amity prepare several more physically-inclined soldiers. Her guards may be loyal, but the majority are still soldiers who aren’t as physically inclined. They still need help from someone, and with the battle no doubt aiming to slaughter the lot of them, she needs some way of defending both them and Commander Blight. She swore she would protect her, therefore she will; she needs no further motivation.

Unfortunately, her resources are limited to what she can find in the palace thanks to Khelyria’s lockdown. Nothing short of her own mother’s word will allow anyone or anything to enter or leave the palace’s grounds, and Luz refuses to sit back and watch her people suffer. Most of them have never experienced battle before, the risk for them being dragged into the fight too great for Luz to bare. For now, all she can do is traverse the halls of the palace, searching for anyone or anything which could aid her in her efforts. It could be a simple spell or even a hint of information, just something that can aid in the battle to come.

Lieutenants Heinz and Pines remain nearby, wishing to provide some degree of assurance, only to refrain after seeing a glint in the princess’s eyes. It’s only a matter of time until she finds what she wants, refraining from interfering thanks to her refusal to hurt others unless absolutely necessary. Trust that’s been developed after her aid in protecting them in turn keeps them from speaking up, a silent favor as thanks for her aid in the past.

Hours pass into the night as Luz yawns, only to jolt herself awake as she stumbles upon a storage room. The creaking attracts no attention beyond the Lieutenants as she peers around, no longer drowsy as she observes a vast collection of old pieces of gear, armor rusted with age or damaged from past battles, stored away thanks to a lack of need. Not all pieces appear to be of acceptable quality, but in her eyes, beggars can’t be choosers.

’…Better than nothing.’

Princess Luz wanted a means of helping, and now she has it.

Chapter Text

It’s the eve of the fifth month since Commander Blight’s promotion, and in that time everything she has ever known has changed. Her  enemies and allies have made themselves apparent, her own priorities have shifted, even her desire for a conclusive end drives her further. She finally has a purpose beyond acting as a weapon, something she now has to act as, only this time she knows her prowess will be put toward a more noble cause.

There’s little she can do at the moment, only overlook her soldiers and ensure each and every one of them is prepared for what’s to come. The commander knows at least several of the Knights of Khelyria won’t make it through the day, but it doesn’t mean something can’t be done to prevent further casualties. Only the knowledge their deaths will have an overarching purpose prevents her from dwelling on their fates, failing to spot one more soldier amongst the ranks.

’…You have a duty beyond the princess, so carry out your duty.’

With greatsword and diamond-shaped shield in hand, she creates a clang, alerting everyone and for them to listen. They deserve the truth, but fearing for their lives in possible despair is the last thing she can allow.

”Knights of Khelyria, our time together has been short. Ever since you’ve proven yourselves, you knew there would be a time your capabilities would be out to the test, to prove your merit and prowess in favor of your empire,” she reminds the knights, noticing fear in several of their demeanors, but none daring to run. “That time has come, the Wittebane Administration having chosen to declare war on the Noceda Empire itself. They wish to perpetuate war thanks to their fascist belief unity isn’t possible, when even in the most desolate parts of the kingdom, while difficult to come by, such peace and cooperation can exist!”

Their goal was made clear from the start, this time reminding each and every soldier that despite the differences between elvenkind and humankind, they’re still people. It’s not too late to prevent Xadia from experiencing peace.

”I’m certain not all of you will make it home, such is the cost of war. Your families and friends, however, will do more than appreciate your sacrifice! Fight to see them once more if possible! One fewer man or woman who falls in battle is another family who sees their loved one return with both honor and courage!You’ll be immortalized as the knights who made bringing forth the era of peace possible!” Amity replies solemnly, only to emphasize triumph, refusing to allow sorrow to overcome her soldiers. “To those who may not make it through, know your ends will not be in vain! Until then, we fight as one!”

The fear of death remains in a number of her soldiers, outweighed by their refusal to fall. Even the smallest of the lot, trembling from the thought of death, refuse to retreat, prepared to lay down their lives for their cause if need be.

”Your lives are not toys and you will prove it! Everything you’ve done for the past four months will determine not only your Tate’s, but those of your comrades and the Noceda Empire!” Commander Blight concludes, her voice nearly booming as she concludes the small speech. “Do I make myself clear?!”

A roar of cheers, born of loyalty, newfound courage, and fury. They know what must be done, and they’ll do anything to ensure tomorrow sees not another drop of blood spill.

“Good! Now get into positions! Archers, cannoneers, I want you along the lower walls and to thin out the enemy’s numbers! Pilots, prepare the war machines and direct them toward the north and south; send the enemy vessels to a watery grave!” the commander orders, aiming to maximize on the Knights of Khelyria’s strengths. “Foot Soldiers! You’re with me, we’ll cut down all who refuse to surrender! We will not let them breach our defenses!”

Never before has she seen a more diligent battalion.

Marshal Lilith observes her home high from the eastern tower alongside her sister, prepared for the coming invaders. Their own faction have all they need to slay the Wittebane Administration’s forces, unwilling to cower before a crew of hypocrites and liars. All they can do now is wait for the enemy to arrive at last and hope for the best; the future for Xadia itself is at risk.

To the north and south of Khelyria’s Palace across the waters, the Owl Lady notices several sea-faring vessels chugging toward the palace, three ships from each direction. The triangular emblem of the Administration is donned upon their flags, narrowing her eyes as she alerts her sister to their enemy’s presence, the elder sister in turn spotting a battalion approaching from the east. She spots five war machines with cannons for turrets and smaller cannons for the siege, a legion of roughly 2,000 soldiers behind them.

The only thing preventing a preemptive attack from the palace is their ignorance of the locals, neither subjecting nor slaughtering the innocent. One soldier is even stopped, a spear directed at her neck to prevent her from satisfying her bloodlust, before being forced back in line alongside her allies. The elder Clawthorne Sister suspects some may have standards, the Head Alchemist not so convinced, suspecting only the threat of death delayed the battle.

“So, do we give them a warning shot?” Eda proposes, gesturing to one of the Knights of Khelyria’s prepared cannons.

”The Empress has made her terms clear: do not engage, and only strike when directed,” the Marshal reminds her sister. “Only once they do cross the threshold shall we commence the attack, but not a second early. Are the potions prepared?”

”Spent all week brewing a little something that could even the odds, for the non-magic knights,” the silver-haired vixen boasts, never directing her attention away from the bridge and waters. “Can’t take any chances with Belos, you know? Not even here and now.”

They know what the Director is willing to see be carried out for his delusions. Only the Empress’s policies prevent him from encroaching on what he believes is his, with the coming clash only serving to reinforce such a belief. Their soldiers will not fight alone, the Clawthornes aiming to deal with the masterminds behind the raid, if only they could locate the matriarch and administrator. The machines’ cannons aim directly at the lower wall, archers and cannons lined up, prepared to fire at a moment’s notice. However, the signal to attack has yet to be utilized.

’Camila, what are you waiting for? We have an entire army just outside our front door!’ the Marshal thinks to herself, weary as the many soldiers prepare to charge. ‘Where is that signal?!’

Lilith’s horror grows upon noticing the gates below open, only to watch as her direct superior steps through before allowing the gates behind her to close. The Empress has donned light-blue chainmail armor and wielding her scepter, the legion noticing a neutral expression as she steps onto the bridge, staff in hand as a levitation spell brings behind her a triangular device. Only then does Lilith understand the true extent of the plan: one last chance to surrender before retaliation occurs. Even with an army threatening to destroy all she knows, she refuses to allow the Noceda Empire to fall so long as she lives.

The Wittebane Administration, however, sees no reason to accept retreat or surrender. Soldiers are directed to aim for the kill, to not waste an opportunity to achieve absolute victory when their leader seemingly wishes to die, the staff’s gem glowing a deep red before a barrier of fire rises all around her, preventing them from approaching further. Archers and cannoneers can only watch as their empress defends them, noticing how she explicitly refused to give the order to attack. The Owl Lady prepares to intervene, refusing to let family fall at the hands of Belos, only to hear a familiar, entitled tone.

”What are you waiting for, cowards?!” the woman’s voice balks with fury, Eda trying to locate the source. “You wanted to fight for your cause! Fight! Use an ice spell, douse the flames with water, something! You’re meant to be the greatest humans, right?! Prove it!”

The source cannot be located by the Head Alchemist at a glance, leading her to believe Odalia has turned invisible to avoid being targeted. Her cowardice, however, falls flat, the Empress’s display of flames preventing her foes from getting more than halfway across the bridge. It doesn’t matter to her how long or how hard her enemies will fight; nobody will take away the peace the continent is meant to achieve.

Camila doesn’t dare ask why fighting in favor of a war is preferable to stability and peace, she doesn’t dare question the motives behind such a war, she doesn’t even bother interrogating soldiers who fight for injustice. They know witches are people too, simply lesser than even the insects they step on or over because of superiority. Nothing less than the Administration’s “change of staff” will allow both her loved ones and those of her soldiers to remain safe in the future.

Her eyes dart between each soldier before her, able to see the hate and rage in their demeanors and glares. They want nothing more than to either destroy Khelyria or conquer it for their own purposes, roars of rage demanding she lower the flames before allowing herself to be executed. It’s then one of them makes her refuse to restrain herself, her head snapping directly toward the speaker.

”You’ve turned your daughter into a useless brat! 20 years old and she’s married nobody?! The lineage is doomed regardless!” a machine pilot balks, ignoring the mother’s glare. “Why not let us show-?”

BOOM

The war machine was blown to pieces with a single explosion spell, the cannon split open akin to a flower and the pilot himself a charred skeleton. The base is nothing more than a furnace as it burns and burns, the explosion having either killed surrounding soldiers in an instant or wounding them in the process, about 20 in all. Nobody even saw her cast the spell, only that a beam of orange light collided with the vehicle and rendered it naught but scrap and bones.

’They weren’t here for peace regardless,’ Empress Camila reminds herself, gritting her teeth as she prepares her device. ‘Never let it be said that war was never an option; they chose to remain filth.’

Even the Clawthorne Sisters have never seen the Empress commit to such brutality before, much less in an instant. Nonetheless, the cue to finally take action has been made, Lilith shaking out of her daze as Eda drinks a transformation potion. There’s no point trying to smooth things over; it’s finally time.

“Knights of Khelyria, protect the Empress!! Protect Khelyria!! Protect Xadia itself!!” the Marshal roars from above, preparing a lightning spell before the foes can fully retaliate.

”As I’ve told you all, this is why the Empress is unfit to rule! She’s a bloodthirsty elf sympathizer who would murder her own for petty slights, even when the truth itself is before her!” a certain Director announces, keeping himself hidden from view. “Peace was never an option from the start! She is to be hanged for her crimes, as is all of the traitors within the palace walls! Don’t spare a single traitor!!”

The battle has finally begun.

Chapter Text

The blind rage for the death of the Empress has diverted most of the Administration's forces toward her specifically. Soldiers rush toward the bridge nearly 2,000 strong, archers raining arrows downward while their fellow war machines launch blasts of concentrated plasma toward the ruler. Belos and Odalia have witnessed her prowess firsthand, the last thing they want is for one of their key targets to escape back to the palace.

Lilith and Eda refuse to allow for such a thing to happen. The former rains down lightning from above, aiming for the ranged unit so that her sister isn’t wounded defending the most politically-powerful human on Xadia. Each strike cooks the armored foes alive as the latter elf changes shape into a black-feathered monster, roaring as she takes to the more plentiful soldiers aiming to skewer her Empress. Nothing less than absolute security will temper the beast’s rage, stone-piercing claws and steel-tearing jaws tearing away at the infantrymen with ease. The combination of attacks is more than enough to force several to fall back for a more sound strategy, though the majority rare blinded with unjust fury, sealing their fates to either be cooked alive or cut in half.

Camila takes the opportunity to recast barrier spells to avoid needless wounds, her glare unwavering as the gate behind her opens up once more. The Knights of Khelyria waste no time carrying out their duty, the cannoneers and archers lobbing spheres of iron into fortified machinery and armor-piercing arrows through infantrymen plating. Administration machines aim toward the lower wall where the soldiers attack from, earning the ire of their superiors.

”What are you doing?!” Belos shouts over the rumbles and roars of war. “The Empress! Aim for the Empress!! You traitor, AIM FOR THE EMPRESS!!!”

“I would, sir, if we could get a clean shot! Even a second of diverted attention will win us the war!” the pilot responds, his rage against the would-be pacifist growing as he refuses to divert his attention from the wall. “One shot, that’s all we need!”

Eda’s “Owl Lady” form notices the redirecting machine, roaring to alert her sister before pushing her way straight through a lesser battalion of marksmen. The last thing she needs is more men than necessary dying, tearing apart armor and unleashing guttural roars to frighten the cowardly, her sister’s lightning blasts destroying the device’s cannon to prevent casualties. They need to find their leaders; the second they fall, the rest will lose any and all morale they once had.

Plasma cannons to the northern and southern sides of the palace fire at will toward the advancing ships, stray blasts electrifying the water around them. Only then do they fire at last, given the push they need to approach the bridge and destroy it, serving to provide the pilots the range they need to prepare accurate calculated shots. They were given their order to defend the palace, they will do anything to uphold their order.

BOOM

A blast to the south blows the back half of one ship apart, the vessel submerging as the survivors take to lifeboats to flee the battle. However, rather than aim for the defenseless dinghies, they merely change targets, aiming for the attacking vessels, the Knights noticing the differing materials several of the vessels are composed of. The one that was sunk in a single shot was of mere wood, a larger ship to the north donning Belos’ own emblems possessing a reinforced tungsten hull.

Several soldiers briefly ponder whether the Wittebane Administration was desperate enough to gather standard travel ships for the sake of ending an empire, only this time directly firing at Belos' ship. The last thing they can afford to waste is time, especially when their brethren are risking life and limb for Xadia as a whole. The plasma cannons this time fire all at once against the primary ship, the tungsten absorbing the majority of the heat while the force of the attack tears a hole in the front. Supplies fall into the waters, be it cannonballs or crystals for ammo, the director only able to look on in horror as another shot manages to find itself through the hole. Twisting metal and shouts of terror from his vessel confirm the worst, his finest ship unable to so much as submerge with dignity.

The northern ships try their best, aiming to destroy the cannons before more of their limited forces can lose track of their goal; they can't get a clean shot of the bridge's supports. Soldiers are already crossing, war cries audible even from far below as their cannons are reloaded and recharged. Barriers from spellcasters and lesser machines minimize the damage, the unity between all soldiers preventing knights from losing lives from the boats. Metal scrap sinks to the bottom of the river, wood floating with survivors hanging on for dear life as their remaining allies are either fought off or sunken as well. The plan has gone awry, but neither word of retreat nor signs of such a thing have been made.

With Commander Blight, Empress Camila, and the Clawthorne Sisters leading the charge, morale for the Noceda Empire is at an all-time high, with even the wounded refusing to allow themselves to waste away. More than half have never seen combat in their lives, months of arduous training and the commands of their leaders keeping them from falling back now. Fewer and fewer Knights are leaving the bridge until not even the stallions and steeds are atop it, the Blight matriarch simmering watching the atrocity before her.

"What's taking them so long?!" she shouts with fury, her gauntlets grasping at her sword. "That bridge should have fallen sooner, they could've been trapped! We can't let our efforts be for nothing! Amity, what did you do to us?! Why did you betray us?!"

Never before would Odalia believe so much could go so wrong in a single day. The sight of potions clattering against the grounds fuels her rage, explaining why even now, only a fraction of her foes' forces fell. The sight of a swordsman falling at long last brings her no joy, having seen him slay at least ten before finally losing his life. The blood staining the ground does nothing to sate her worries, leading her to figure nothing less than direct involvement will turn the tide of this battle around.

Cries of triumph and screams of the dying sound for miles, the sight neither familiar nor unfamiliar to the commander. She's seen her fair share, yet seeing a faction not deserving of such pain encourages her to push further.

It doesn't matter how long she's fought or how long it's been since her previous genuine battle; Amity can never forget the sights and sounds. Even as her men cut down the fanatics and her superiors cut bloody swaths through their enemies, she can't help but feel nothing for her foes. Every one of them had the choice to simply go away, to think, to reconsider their choices. They didn't even need to be apart of the Wittebane Administration; perhaps they could've even joined the Noceda Empire had they thought things through.

"DEATH TO THE EMPRESS!!!"

"DEATH TO THE NOCEDA BLOODLINE!!!"

"TO AN ELFLESS FUTURE!!!"

All she hears from the invaders are empty threats and malice. They aren't fighting for a noble cause, they don't even care who gets in their way. All they want is war as far as she can tell. Nothing will convince them to escape with their lives beyond cowardice, the enemy war machines cut down from five to merely one, controlled by the Director himself. She can't help but wonder whether it's cowardice or brilliance, using his intellect to guide his soldiers via the contraption, at one point forcing the Marshal and the Owl Lady to combine their strengths just to keep him from slaying more of her men.

Each Knight of Khelyria that dies at the hands of Belos and Odalia's soldiers only fuels the Commander's fury, swinging with more strength and precision she thought was possible before. Every last soldier under her care has someone they wish to protect, with each fallen knight only able to return post-mortem. Each slash of her greatsword splits apart platemail as if it were mere wood, her shield defending her from barrages of steel-tipped arrows, reminders that she must fight for them. She can still prevent more death than necessary; all she must do is prevent them from reaching the palace.

"Pinez! Heinz! To your left!" the green-haired elf calls. "Archers!"

Her call couldn't have come sooner, the Lieutenants raising their shields just in time to avoid a row of frozen bolts. Only then could they march forward, preventing further ranged agony, briefly quelling the Paladin's rage. Such relief leaves her open to another greatsword wielder, sword raised above their head, prepared to kill off the commander.

"No!"

The call and the scream that followed alert the armored woman, raising her shield just in time to avoid a blow to her left. Her opponent is given no time to strike again, growing still as the life drains from their eyes, crimson liquid pouring out from beneath the soldier's chestplate as they fall to the ground. Commander Blight prepares to continue, only to finally get a look at the one to slay her enemy.

She recognizes the armor her 5'6 ally dons, or more accurately the pieces of their armor. From the helmet to the boots, all of the pieces are rusted, dented, but otherwise intact pieces of standard Knight of Khelyria garb, only no more than two parts are the same. The helmet neither matches the chestplate nor the chestplate the leggings, a single standard issue sword and shield as her soldier's equipment. Give the circumstances, Amity knows she has no room to be picky; the fewer chances the Noceda Empire falls, the better; the commander refuses to allow her battalion's losses to be in vain.

Both armored figures push onward, trying to cut a suitable-enough swath for forces to push onward. Every step forward is another slash or bash to be blocked, Commander Blight noticing how the knight in dented armor refuses to back down even when seemingly overwhelmed. One strike after the other, each blow and block precise and swift, aimed toward the legs of the enemies for a greater advantage. Even strikes against spellcasters aren’t a major threat, the youngest Blight surprised to find her soldier pushing onward even with hundreds of fanatics hoping to slay her.

The misshapen soldier pushes onward through the battle, only once briefly pausing, as if processing what they’ve done, their commanding officer returning the favor in return. Amity can only think of one person who could act in such a contradictory manner, but she made sure she’d be in the deepest chambers of the palace. Her thoughts on the matter, however, are redirected toward the bridge.

BOOM
BOOM
BOOM

Three shrapnel-spreading explosions ring out, rendering the only clear way in and out of the palace naught but rubble. The debris from the ships only confirms to the commander that the counter-plan was nothing short of successful. She can live with a destroyed bridge; at least the princess will be safe. Artillery from the palace has gone off as scheduled, the last of the Knights of Khelyria having joined the fray. Fellow Khelyrians cheer knowing the plan was successful, the Administration's members only able to look on in horror; their plan went off in the worst way for them.

Less than half of the fanatics remain and most of their machinery has been destroyed, the higher-ups preventing a now-raving Belos from slaughtering everything in sight. Commander Blight's duty is not complete, however, a familiar shout of fury signaling her that one last higher-up remains.

An armored madwoman in green titanium armor tackles the commander to the ground, her horned helmet preventing her face from being seen. Amity only barely avoids the warhammer aimed for her skull, the ground beside her cratering and smoldering as the rusted soldier tackles her off, giving their superior just enough time to climb to her feet, her golden eyes pinpricks as she gnashes her teeth. The one person she refuses to allow victory has finally chosen to pursue her goals herself; she won't leave unless either she dies or her enemies die.

"We could've ruled all of Xadia, Amity!" the noblewoman roars, pointing toward her daughter's higher-ups. "You're responsible for all of this! Not the human empress, not the traitors, you! Had you simply followed the plan as you were instructed, this war wouldn't have happened!"

Amity doesn't dare listen to her drivel any longer, her greatsword meeting with her enemy's hammer as the clash sounds throughout the battlefield, growling in return, "All you had to do was admit defeat! People are losing their loved ones because one way or another, you would've started a war regardless!"

A familiar blast of plasma is directed at Commander Blight, the smaller soldier using her foe's blind rage to strike at her legs once more. They refuse to allow the commander to fall to a coward, much less someone who'd gladly see the world burn for her pride to remain warm. Only one thing is certain between the three of them, the battle approaching its end.

The Blight Family will lose a member today one way or another.

Chapter Text

Amity just wants the battle to end. Dozens of knights have fallen for the sake of ending the truce with peace, and the death of either the Empress or the Princess could lead to a far bloodier war. She now understands the gravity of war and senseless violence, having seen its effects on families and friends across Xadia. She can't allow the Wittebane Administration to push through, no matter the cost. All she has to do is finish off one last monster.

The monster in question can’t think of anything but her supposed traitor of a daughter, how all she had to do was fall in like like everyone else. Instead, her hopes of a life beyond blatant conquest and war-starting are all she can rely on, unable to think of a more fitting punishment than killing her youngest. Nothing less will calm her, she doesn’t care, swinging her warhammer with all her might as she aims for the commander’s skull.

The rusted soldier’s foe remains distracted as they slashed toward her knee, hoping to at least slow the foe down as the matriarch swings with all her might. All the soldier manages to do is create a screeching from swiping metal along metal, the ire of the enemy leader directed at them as they swing with all their might. Commander Blight wastes no time attempting to cleave her own mother’s arm off, refusing to let another soldier die under her watch.

Amity only manages to dent the hypocrite’s sleeve, the force of the blow slightly staggering the juggernaut as she swings with all her might once more. Only a timely raising of her shield prevents the commander from having her skull caved in, denting the top of her shield as more blows are sent her way. She can’t find an opening, pushed back as each warhammer strike pushes her further and further back, the heat from latent magic threatening to melt through her defense.

“Why couldn’t you just listen to me?! You could have achieved something not even the rest of our kind could possess, all while earning your redemption!! The Noceda Empire could have made you the empress, you didn’t even have to spill another drop of blood!! Instead you throw it away in favor of hooking up with the PRINCESS?!!?” the blue-eyed elf screams, disgusted with the turncoat before her, no longer able to listen to reason. “I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU COULD EVER NEED!!! WHAT DID THE FILTHY HUMAN OFFER THAT I COULDN’T?!!?”

“A true second chance! A chance not to be a weapon! Love! A reason to keep going even after atoning!!” Amity retorts, refusing to listen to her former superior’s ramblings, holding her stance as she finally finds her opening. “Something you couldn’t hope to comprehend!”

KLANG

The greatsword and warhammer make contact, the force of the impact sounding throughout the battlefield as both mother and daughter fight to the death. The older elf, however, shrugs off the force of the blow as her daughter is shaken from the impact, but she’s given no chance to take advantage of such a thing. Her youngest’s soldier continues to find weak points in the armor, finally managing to find an opening around her shoulder, jamming their blade within with all their might.

Belos’ elven ally looks at her left arm, watching blood trickle down her. She’s bleeding. A human actually made her bleed, and they did so with little effort. She has an enemy just as dangerous as her own flesh and blood, redirecting her rage toward the mismatched soldier. She can’t allow someone to tell the tale, not so long as she draws breath. Nobody can know she was wounded by a human of all things. Her pride was wounded, therefore the small human must pay with her very life.

To her horror, however, she fails to so much as deliver a proper hit to the less-than-glamorous Knight of Khelyria. Each strike of hers that misses is only another opening to swing their sword into her blind spots, staggering her and drawing small trickles of blood. They barely hurt, but she can’t stop taking blows, at one point her foe redirecting her warhammer to the ground, lodging it before aiming for her neck. Only a swift kick to the human’s head sends her sprawling, only given enough time to raise her shield before a ray of plasma is directed at the assailant. They let out a high scream, having never felt such physical agony before, the old, rusted armor and shield doing little to protect them from the matriarch’s magic, a consequence of not simply donning standard armor.

Amity refuses to watch her subordinate cook alive, aiming straight for her mother’s shoulder before slashing outward, tearing away at her titanium armor from the inside. A scream escapes her enemy’s throat, almost piercing the air as she reels from the sting, blood pouring out as she redirects her fury once more. She can’t allow two lessers to live, even if one of them is her daughter. They had every chance to submit, so instead they must pay for their lives, at least in her mind.

“YOU BETRAYED THE BLIGHT FAMILY!!! YOU BETRAYED YOUR OWN PEOPLE!!! WORST OF ALL, YOU BETRAYED ME!!!” the profiteer screams with fury, flailing her warhammer all around in a desperate attempt to butcher her daughter and her friend. “NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I HAD THE DISPLEASURE OF SHARING MY BLOOD WITH SOMEONE SO VILE, SO IRREDEEMABLE!!! ALL YOU’VE DONE IS BETRAY EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING ON XADIA, ALL FOR YOUR PERSONAL BENEFIT!!! I TRIED TO GIVE YOU THE BEST, AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET!!! THIS ISN’T THE GIRL I’VE RAISED!!! DIE!!! I ORDER YOU TO DIE!!!”

What little reason the matriarch may have had is long gone, replaced by fury and the desire to kill. Her wild, imprecise swings leave her open to Amity and her friend chipping away at her armor, the layering beneath losing more and more of its strength. Small latches keeping the pieces together are sliced as segments of metal are cleaved in half, exposing further padding to be torn away, the smaller knight disgusted by what they’re witnessing.

“This is the woman who raised Amity? Disgraceful,” they spit, unable to hold their tongue listening to her vitriol. “Even when she was a villain, Amity still had more honor than you ever did. She still believed in her cause even at her worst, all while you perpetuated the very things leading to Xadia’s potential downfall.”

Even with their armor burning their skin and the matriarch tearing off pieces of useless gear, the rusted soldier refuses to fall. They can’t allow the evilest elf she’s ever heard of to roam free, not after seeing what she’s capable of, not when she hurt their superior officer. Their strikes aim for small gaps, the soldier’s smaller size giving them the chance to duck down and aim for her knees, hoping to finally out an end to the battle. Too many men and women have died in a battle that never had to happen in her eyes; the only upside is that the worst warmongers will finally be put down.

The hammer is soon stuck in the ground once more, the hypocrite frothing as she grasps Amity by the neck, attempting to suffocate her while roasting her neck. She can’t risk letting her leave, using her remaining focus to direct another plasma blast at the human. Her tactic, however, is her downfall.

The dented knight was prepared this time, diving forward before striking at the wrist, not caring if they suffer more from the blow, their sword glowing from the heat and burning her palms.

thump

Amity and her mother watch as the latter’s hand falls to the ground. Crimson pours out, the horror on the elder elf’s face unmistakable as she tries to comprehend the loss of her hand, giving Commander Blight the opening she needs to finish the job. One last slice is all she needs, raising it to the vile woman’s neck and shoving the tip within, forcing the monster to try pushing her off. She refuses to die even when she’s lost.

Her ruined armor and open segments provide the opening the rusted soldier needs to send her now-heated blade through the leaders back, the tip just barely peeking through the front of her chest. The soldier refuses to give her any chance of fighting back, the further horror giving their superior the chance to yank her own blade outward, tearing her neck out at last.

Ultimately, the wounds were too great to withstand. The Blight matriarch drowns in her own blood as she falls backward, further impaling herself on the human’s blade, her senses fading as she fails to hear Belos’ machine explode at long last, a forcefield preventing the exploding from spreading beyond himself. All she can think of is realizing her entire crusade against the Noceda Empire has been an abject failure. Everything from the strategy to the machines to her own daughter and even the higher-ups joining the fray have derailed everything she’s worked for, all because of the princess convincing Amity to be better. She’ll never see the humans lose all they’ve had, neither will she ever indirectly rule all of Xadia.

The last thing she sees before finally succumbing to her injuries is Amity looking down at her, finally free from her influence.

Commander Blight understands that taking the life of a family member, no matter how heinous, should be soul-crushing. Murdering her own flesh and blood, the one who gave birth to her, shouldn’t be easy, knowing they’re still family. However, she doesn’t feel regret or even empathy looking upon the fallen matriarch’s lifeless body.

Nothing less than glee fills her body as she takes off the figure’s horned helmet as a souvenir, refusing to give her profiteer of a mother the honor of having her eyes closed. She doesn’t even deserve a proper burial in her eyes, but at least now she can walk away knowing nothing can drag her back into becoming the monster she once was. She can’t hurt anyone anymore.

All Amity can think about are the benefits as she turns to her subordinate, be it donating the funds somewhere else or even merely spreading the word to the ones she hurt, when the knight collapses from overexertion. She rushes over, helping her knight sit up as she focuses on the present, refusing to let her die. The commander tears away at the heated pieces, desperate to prevent them from cooking her subordinate alive, when the soldier speaks once more.

”I… did it, right? I protected you?” they weakly no doubt starting to understand what just happened.

”You did, soldier. Odalia is no more thanks to your aid,” Amity encourages with a voice like sandpaper, smiling from beneath her helmet as she removes their helmet. “Now let’s get you-“

clank

The knight’s helmet falls alongside the rest of her armor pieces as the youngest Blight realizes just who’s been helping her. She had triple checked that Luz couldn’t leave the palace during the battle, yet she couldn’t have made note of the one soldier who stood out. Part of her feels horrified knowing she was wounded greatly, noticing bruises and cuts across her torso and face, but at the same time relief and pride realizing she made it through and helped her slay the one figure who didn’t deserve mercy.

”Uh… Hey, do you hear that?” Luz replies sheepishly, hoping to divert attention, hearing the another series of shouts around her.

It works for a moment, Amith realizing the sound too. It’s the Knights of Khelyria, be it wounded or alive, cheering. It’s incomplete, given the fallen laying around her, but the living celebrate knowing the brief war is ultimately over. The smoldering wreck of Belos’ machine is no longer functioning, the higher-ups standing atop it as a sign there’s no more need to fight, the remaining members of the Wittebane Administration retreating in a mixture of terror and cowardice.

As Amity calls for medical assistance, she and Luz can’t help but feel relief knowing the battle is finally over.

Chapter Text

The Wittebane Administration’s reputation, alongside that of Belos and his predecessors, is forever sullied for their crimes against Empress Camila Noceda and her people. All they had to do was refuse to cause trouble for anyone else and they’d have been fine, but now what little funding they were going to have will be given elsewhere. They lost over 1,500 soldiers out of 2,000, far more than just half their men, alongside many resources, all for an anti-elf cause that would’ve lost far more had they succeeded. The Khelyrian higher-ups will see to it they see justice for their participation once they’ve recovered fully. The soldiers need rest first.

Of the 300 Knights of Khelyria who participated in the Battle For Khelyria, 98 of them lost their lives either from the conflict or because of it. 98 groups of families and friends have lost one of their own in the fight, to be compensated for their troubles and to be informed their deaths were not in vain. Despite knowing they’d likely lose their lives in the battle, they fought to the bitter end, knowing they’d not die for nothing, knowing their loved ones would be safe. An ultimately bittersweet end for the fallen.

A temporary “drawbridge” of magic platforms for the palace allows both residents and visitors to come and go, a measure until more pressing matters are dealt with. Beyond as such, however, the medical bay sees the most activity since before the current Empress’s rise to power, the groans of the wounded and continued cheers of victory sounding throughout. All the while, medical treatment is being provided; the least the victors deserve is a chance to fully heal.

Two beds in the non-emergency segment of the bay are taken up by Odalia Blight’s killers, both hidden behind a curtain for privacy. Luz’s injuries are oddly minimal for someone who was nearly throttled and burned to death, even able to shuffle despite the damage, mere outlines where her armor once was littering her body. Blankets cover her physical form, hiding what damage was inflicted upon her as she looks over to her commander, worried for her friend. Amity’s throat is coated in burn marks, slowly healing thanks to immediate medical attention, lesser wounds including bruises along her chest and cuts across her arms. So long as her Knights are recuperating and their cause is confirmed as secured, she sees no reason to intensify her treatment.

”…That was what war is like, isn’t it?” Luz murmurs, still processing what she’s done and witnessed.

Amity can’t sugarcoat the truth, nodding to confirm just why she no longer wants to be a weapon. It doesn’t matter if it was with or without Odalia, she still knows the gravity of allowing such a fight to spread all across Xadia.

”No wonder you wanted to stop the war, that was… horrible,” the princess can’t help but murmur with both sorrow and dread, shaking her head as she looks at her hands. “And that’s what soldiers need to do just to uphold their causes or beliefs. And I added to the tally… Does that make me a monster?”

Amity shakes her head without a second thought, grabbing a pen and paper. The last thing she wants is for her favorite student and one of her favorite humans to let the guilt consume them, refusing to let her suffer in silence as she had. Commander Blight sees it as fair, a trade for helping her change for the better when she could have easily denied such a thing, handing her a note to emphasize her point.

“Soldiers have a job to do. The men around us will soon grapple with the fact they had to kill, but they’ll know the alternative had they not,” said note reads, neither minimizing the implications nor putting down the tan woman’s beliefs. “The same applies to you, and you’re already beginning to understand the implications of being a soldier. I’d recommend talking to me at a later point, just to be sure you don’t suffer silently for doing the right thing. The fact you feel joy for upholding the cause, not the lives you took, already makes you a better woman than I’ll likely ever be.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. Unlike someone we knew, you actually tried to improve yourself, not to mention you could’ve done something way worse if you… you know,” Luz retorts, touched by the note but refusing to let Amity think poorly. “If you ask me, you proved yourself the day you confessed, and that’s something nobody can take.”

The comment is more than enough to make the youngest Blight smile, unable to hide how appreciative she is of her princess’s comment. She once thought her crush was little more than compassion blinding her, but now she sees no reason to hide her passion, so long as Luz accepts it, of course. Amity can’t wait to finally get out of the medical ward, to get back to work to aid in Xadia’s future.

Princess Luz, meanwhile, can’t stop thinking about Amity’s own words. She doesn’t have to like the killing, but at least she knows she can do what needs to be done. There may be a time she’ll need to take more lives, but she swears to leave it for those who refuse to change. She is now a knight, in a way, and nothing, not even the Empress herself, can take that away.

Amity has never once before heard the Empress yell or scream at anyone who wasn’t apart of the Noceda Empire, not even insubordinate acts could do more than lead to disappointment. Neither has anyone beyond maybe the Clawthorne Sisters, as everyone from the limbless to the mildly dazed looking toward the non-emergency section with surprise. The scepter remains outside the area, a sign the argument within isn’t just Empress Noceda, but Camila as a mother.

“Luz Noceda, what were you thinking?! (You could’ve been killed and nobody would’ve known until after the matter!)” Camila shouts with a mixture of fury and worry, tears in her eyes as she looks at her daughter. “Your training was incomplete! You needed to prepare for what was to come, and you went about playing knight in the middle of a war zone!”

Luz can only nod and listen, fully coming to terms just how reckless jumping into a war zone could be. The last thing she wanted was to worry her mother, having been training in swordsmanship to prove she isn’t physically defenseless, and now she bears the wounds a comparably small-scale war can inflict. She indeed could have died, and the notifications of Knights’ deaths are to go off of, it wouldn’t have ended well for anyone involved.

“Mamá, (I had to protect Amity! You’d do the same for everyone else, why couldn’t I?)” she argues, refusing to deny her mother’s claims. “Yeah, people would’ve died, a lot already have, but Amity could’ve died too! If I kept her alive, less people would’ve died. That’s what I was thinking, and… yeah, it was stupid going in without at least someone knowing what I was up to.”

Just beyond the curtains, Eda can’t help but smirk knowing her daughter figure became rebellious in a positive way, Lilith lightly smacking her upside the head. She still can’t believe she forgot to account for the one human she wasn’t allowed to have in the fight, only glad she doesn’t need to add family to the obituary tomorrow.

Amity can’t help but find Camila’s outrage both heartbreaking and heartwarming all at once. She’s ultimately right, Luz very well could have died had her protector not stopped Odalia in time, and several times in battle she could have easily been slain before encountering one another. It’s something she has considered, but she also understands the weight of the impact. She writes a note explaining as such, holding it up to argue in defense of the princess while preserving her throat.

“Empress, I must remind you that despite the Princess’s insubordination, she has also proven herself more than worthy of becoming a hero. Had she not been there for me when I was dealing with Odalia, I would have likely died then and there,” the Paladin’s message explains, much to Camila’s intrigue. “You are right that a reprimand of some extent is required, but know that had the battle ended without Odalia’s corpse, much worse could have happened. The helmet I’ve brought with me is proof of her death, and thus the end of her terror on Xadia.”

It’s then Camila’s expression softens, albeit not entirely, looking between her commander’s note and her daughter. She lacked the full story, letting her mind clear before asking a question.

”Are you able to move? Sit up, move about, the like?” she more calmly asks, her tone gentler. “Disobeying me or not, you still got hurt…”

”I’ll be okay. Thank the doctors and healing potions that I’ll be largely okay,” the youngest Noceda confirms, perplexed as her mother approaches from the side. “Is there-?”

Before Luz can speak further, her mother pulls her into a hug, firm but gentle enough not to aggravate any injuries. The Empress refuses to let go, her breaths shaking as she feels her child return the affection, just glad she’s safe. This isn’t about Luz being the next in line to the throne; she just wants her daughter safe, Luz unable to deny she didn’t want to lose anyone either.

”Mi Bebe… (I don’t want to lose anyone else…)” the mother whispers, barely keeping herself from sobbing. “You’re safe, (I’m right here…)”

Neither Noceda dares let go of the other, the youngest finally able to cry as she grasps her mom with what little might remains within her. It’s been years since she’s let herself cry, but the full scope of everything has destroyed what little notion that peace could come easily. She almost lost Camila, she almost lost the Clawthornes, she almost lost Amity. The last thing she wants is to have been killed prematurely, as selfish as a desire may seem.

Amity can feel her heart shatter further witnessing the display of unrestrained affection. Even after the only scolding Luz has gotten that she’s seen, her mom refuses to make her believe she’s hated. She knows she could feel jealousy, but knowing her favorite humans remain together, their bond seemingly unbreakable, encourages her to remain silent. It’s a family matter, just knowing they’re going to be alright is enough relief as it is.

Before too long, maybe two minutes, the Empress and Princess separate, though the former continues to pat Luz’s head, something Amity keeps note of.

”You took initiative, you’ve slain a vile beast of a woman, you’ve even aided in battle when it wasn’t required at the time. I can’t lie, it was noble of you to willingly risk your very life to ensure peace for Xadia,” Camila states with a small smile, using her free hand to wipe away her child’s tears. “Something tells me with a bit of restraint, along with proper training, you’d become a fine Empress once the time comes. And Commander Blight?”

The wounded elf’s eyes are redirected to her overall superior, who gratefully congratulates her, stating with sincerity, “Thank you for protecting my daughter. You’ve truly earned your redemption as far as I’m concerned; you’ll always have a place here in Khelyria. Expect… proper compensation once you’re able to speak and move about without issue. Just be sure you treat Luz right should you truly pursue her hand.”

”Mom!” Luz murmurs, hiding her face in a pillow.

Amity can’t help but smile seeing the Empress’s usual demeanor, both amused by the teasing and touched by the praise and affirmation that she’s not a monster. She knows she likely wouldn’t have the strength to continue improving upon herself without motivation, nodding in agreement to her final statement. In a way, it feels as if everything will indeed be alright, or at least is on the way to becoming alright.

”…By the way, Mija,” Camila quickly adds, “you’re still grounded for sneaking off like that.”

“That’s fair,” Luz replies, slightly dejected but understanding as to why.

Everything will indeed be alright.

Chapter Text

A full five months have passed since Amity’s arrival, and she can safely say she’s made the right choice. Beyond Luz not being allowed to physically train in favor of a different class of practice for the next month, the commander is certain everything will indeed be alright. No retaliation toward Khelyria’s Palace has been discovered, and with the reputations of the attackers forever ruined, she can rest easy knowing her cause to aid the Noceda Family’s ambitions has been a wise one.

Roughly a week has passed since the battle, and everyone who passed through has finally recovered enough to leave the medical ward. Battle scars coat a number of knights’ bodies, proof they’ve lived through a war zone, fully understanding just why the Empress refuses to allow for another needless war. Nothing can change what they’ve seen and experience, but at the same time nobody and nothing short of a god or goddess can alter the reality that they’ve fought for a better future.

Within the throne room, for the first time in years, every Knight of Khelyria, Commander Blight, Luz, and their higher-ups face one another, an announcement in place. The scent of fresh meals and drinks fills the air as Empress Camila stands, glad to see everyone has arrived.

”Knights of Khelyria, be you a skillful cannoneer, swordsman, or even a mere informant, you’ve done well fighting not just for the empire, but for your loved ones. Nothing shall change what happened that day, our friends taken from us before their times were due,” the Empress solemnly states, sad 98 soldiers will never see the new era in life. “However, nothing will ever take their sacrifice away. They may have departed from the mortal world, but they leave behind the chance for a brighter future alongside you.”

Everyone listens intently, the green-haired elf silently directing her attention to a slab of stone between her and her subordinates. Said tablet has the names of all 98 men and women who gave their lives to the Noceda Empire, a permanent reminder so that history doesn’t forget their names. She can’t help but feel touched by such a mark, proof the men she trained both haven't failed their mission and that they’ll be fondly recalled.

”That is why today, now that you’ve recovered, I think a celebration of sorts is to be put in place. This isn’t just about me, but all of you, those who risked your lives and those who can’t be here. Mourn the deceased and celebrate both your success and the successful efforts your fallen brethren made, Knights of Khelyria!” the eldest Noceda states firmly, refusing to drag on the announcement for too long. “Your efforts will have never been in vain so long as you fight for the cause, and that cause is for your people to live safely in an era free of war! Thank you, every single one of you, for proving your lives still have value!”

On cue, chefs roll out tables containing swaths of food, from the finest meats to the freshest fruits and vegetables from the royal garden to stews and sauces and cheeses galore. Maybe it’s excessive, maybe it’s wasteful from an outsider’s perspective, but neither the Clawthornes nor the Empress see it as such. The least their soldiers deserve is assurance they’ve made the right decision, and with their cash-based compensation paid out, the party will bolster morale further. The last thing they need is to dread their cause, and what better way to prove it than showing they matter as much as any other human or elf?

Luz prepares to take a seat beside her mother when the Empress lightly nudges her shoulder, whispering, “That means you too.”

”I’m… not a Knight of Khelyria though?” the younger human replies, confused. “That and you didn’t want me fighting to begin with.”

”True, but I’m not taking away the effort you’ve taken. Context or no context, you still fought for the empire,” Camila confirms, not letting confusion stir.

”C’mon, kid. Let’s grab some grub! A certain commander will be a little sad if she can’t mingle, especially now,” the Head Alchemist teases, pointing toward a certain elf.

”And I’m sure you have ‘mingling’ to worry about as well, sister,” the Marshal huffs, for once causing her sister to become flustered. “Don’t think I didn’t spot you sneaking off to-“

The Owl Lady shoves her daughter figure toward the food before she hears anything not meant for her. Luz can’t hide a small grin, a mixture of knowingness and gratitude, touched she’s truly made a difference all while prepared to join the others in the festivities.

Cheers of joy, roars of pride, and tears of sorrow fill the throne room as everyone celebrates the dawn of a coming bright era. Tensions may still be strong, but the refusal to worsen them brings them hope, assurance all the efforts of their predecessors, brethren, and even their families will have mattered in the end. The recent events are merely the tip of the iceberg to them, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Commander Blight is careful not to remove her helmet, carefully filling a bowl with some stew as she also joins in on the celebration. She knows she couldn’t have slain Odalia without them, watching Pines and Heinz drinking the finest ales, singing about the downfall of Belos. Several more join in, one of their subordinates joining by playing makeshift drums via some glasses and a bowl. Even Eda appears gleeful to add in some color, a small light spell for a makeshift spotlight emphasizing the spectacle.

Amity can’t help but notice the princess remaining near the pies, cakes, candies, and creams, piling high enough sugar to incapacitate a rampaging Owlbear. She can’t help but simultaneously wonder how her girlfriend-ish companion hasn’t gained much weight, be it fatty tissue or muscle, all while feeling her heart race as she stuffs a chocolate-coated strawberry in her mouth. She remembers having seen her consume half a pot of stew despite her size, subconsciously approaching her as she prepares steak and corn on top of her hill of sweets.

Just as Luz is prepared to start eating, the sound of metal boots approaching catches her attention, turning to find her favorite Paladin behind her with a bowl of stew. The human can’t help but smile and try to wave hello, forced to keep her hands around her plate lest she spill her treats. Amity is almost tempted to cast a spell, only to quell the thought before the two silently take a seat away from the noise and view of the higher-ups, both their meals now safely set.

”I take it you’re enjoying the party?” the commander asks in a slightly more chipper tone than usual.

”A little loud for my taste, but yeah, it’s good! It’s been a long time since the Knights of Khelyria were able to celebrate like this,” the princess points out, gesturing toward everyone in sight. “Mom was right, they needed a party to really get that they made a difference.”

Amity nods in agreement, seated beside the human she’s fallen in love with, replying, “It was nice of… Camila, to let you join us. You did save me out there.”

”You did the same for me, and you didn’t even know who I was,” Luz murmurs, a blush growing across her cheeks. “You really didn’t care if I was a princess or a soldier, you would’ve kept me safe anyway. That just… feels right, you know?”

”It’s part of my duties, yes, but every soldier has a family. Some don’t have closure, be it with a body or a notice about one’s demise,” Amity murmurs softly, looking over to the stone tablet of soldiers’ names. “It’s a luxury only your empire has shown, at least to my knowledge. You know your subordinates are people, treating them as such, and the least I could’ve done is ensure that stays afloat. At least the Knights’ families, all of them, will have the closure they’re owed.”

Pieces of carrot and celery are pushed through an opening in the elf’s helmet as Luz enjoys her own meal, falling further for the woman who has proven she has a heart. She knows she should be careful, but with immediate tensions having eased, perhaps later she and Amity can speak with one another about where they go. For now, however, she has a party to join with the others, spotting what she considers an interesting sight. More and more soldiers, perhaps tipsy from having drank more than enough wine and ale, begin to dance to the makeshift band's music, the commander shaking her head at the sight, though displaying no disdain otherwise.

"...Perhaps we should join them," Commander Blight suggests, drinking up the last of her stew's broth. "The party is still young, and something tells me Camila and Eda will need attention directed away from them."

Luz's smile broadens at the suggestion, laughing subtly as she spots both her mother and her elven mother figure blushing alongside one another. She suspects them to have drank something earlier, only serving to encourage the youngest Noceda to loosen up further, nodding as she accepts Amity's hand. The sight of Paladin and Princess joining everyone else hand-in-hand is more than enough to sober up a few knights, surprised to find their superior keeping the princess in her grasp at all times.

Despite the metal gauntlets and the steel armor, the youngest Noceda feels as if she's embracing Amity's warm, soft body. She feels safe, refusing to not nuzzle, sighing softly as she stumbles to the tune of the knights' song. The chaos mixes with a steady harmony as Amity keeps her princess close, letting herself purr as everyone understands who has joined the festivities, just so they understand what’s to happen next.

”I… ordered Amity to dance! Yeah!” Luz lies, her blush and stutter betraying her. “There’s nothing to worry about, just two f-friends dancing and enjoying the party!”

”Very funny, Luz. Admit it, you like being treated as precious by your protector,” Amity coos, cupping her favorite princess’s cheek, “don’t you~?”

Whistles and cheers sound around the two, Luz’s blush only growing as she just accepts the truth and continues to party with Amity. She can always grab something to eat shortly, but she can’t even pretend to lie about hating dancing, at least not right now, and especially with so many witnesses seeing the truth. The princess looks over to her family, Camila just nodding as Eda drinks straight from a bottle, both she and a more restrained Lilith more than happy to give a thumbs up. It feels right to the young human, assuring her that remaining by Amity's side is just right.

Amity can't help but smile wider noticing the display, more proof she's not the same monster she once was. She's proven herself enough, and if the higher-ups are indeed happy seeing her with Luz, she sees little issue treating her right. The commander's right right continues to reach down and carefully wrap around Luz's waist, her left hand grasping Luz's right, the two unable to part ways. Nothing can satisfy their desire beyond simply being together, the knights around them unable to look away. They can't say it's wrong, given everything that's happened in the past five months, though the fact all of their superiors approve of the relationship proves Commander Blight did something right, or perhaps the Princess has done something to woo her protector.

Whatever the context, the Knights of Khelyria continue to celebrate both their victory and the futures of their empire and people. What point is there sullying a happy moment with their superiors without cause? Heinz and Pines can't help but nod along, slowing the tempo in tandem with their brothers-in-arms, nonetheless entertained by the sight of their armored goliath of a superior officer essentially slow-dancing with the princess, noticing how the latter is now lacking a smile but in complete bliss. The former's movements have never been so gentle before, more at ease than ever before, as if at peace for the first time in years.

The celebration was ultimately a success in bolstering both morale and the belief in the Noceda Empire's ideals, everyone from the lowest rank to the highest authorities prepared for whatever comes next.

Chapter Text

With the Princess's other form of practice complete and Commander Blight's preparations for the newest Knights of Khelyria underway, little more can be done. The threats are gone, the fallen have been compensated for, and every resident of the palace is in high spirits, all things considered. There's nothing more to prepare for in the meantime, and so a certain duo enters the Royal Gardens once more.

Every flower is in full bloom, a familiar tree's leaves shining bright, full of life as flowers and trees blossom throughout the enclosure. Everything from the insects underground to the spiders preventing infestations seems to have found a perfect balance, even if it's temporary, a perfect setting for Luz and Amity to enjoy their day together. Maybe it's selfish to refuse changing a simple routine, especially given how the status quo has been altered for the better, though the idea of leaving behind peace brings dread to the commander's very soul. She doesn't want to return to a life without clear love, to be around a family that might not love her anymore, even if she must confront such a truth in the coming future.

'...We'll cross that bridge when we cross it. It's not time to go home yet,' she reminds herself, easing up as she continues to read a certain folktale. '...Either way, at least you know you have a home. You'll never be alone again.'

The assurance is all the youngest Blight needs as she lets herself sit by with her helmet removed, a certain princess leaning into her side. Page by page, they read more stories of the Good Sorceress Azura, just enjoying themselves while drinking some juice and fruits. It's not reading sacred texts while nursing a glass of wine or counting hoards of gold, but the comparably simple pleasure of merely bonding further while reading brings both women bliss they'd never trade away. Just spending time together, not a worry in the world, feels just right for the two of them, the Paladin's companion noticing a change never before focused on.

"...Hey, do you know why Hecate changed her hair color from orangish-red to full red?" the human asks, pointing to a depiction of the former enemy. "It's not a major change, but it's enough to at least catch someone's eye if they know where to look. I think she did it because while she still loves herself, she didn't make too much of a change to show she still loves herself. She's trying to do better at this point in the story, and... well, at least it makes sense story-wise."

"It's something that has yet to pique my interest. I just see dyeing one's hair as either a fashion statement or a mere interest for whatever reason, nothing more complicated," Amity points out, only to pause and think of her next words. "...at least, that's what I once thought. She wants to prove she's not a different person, but that she's no longer an evil person. I... almost envy her, knowing she found her way before it was too late."

Luz nods to show she understands, the mint-green hair now a darker hue, strands of brown poking through. She remembers how there was always a subtle sheen, as if recently dyed back to its vibrant shade, only for the dye to grow less and less prominent. She can't help but find the new look more than attractive, as if she's subconsciously letting herself grow out of what she once was. Only the talk of Hecate prevents her from commenting on such a feature, however; it's Amity's business what color her hair is anyway.

"Either way, I like how she's been proving she's no longer a villain ever since. In a way, it also makes Villainous Lucy's turn to the forces of evil quite the difference," she continues to ramble, feeling a tender pat along her head. "And... she wants to show Azura she doesn't need to fight alone. She's good, really good, but that doesn't mean she'll always be emotionally okay, so having that connection keeps her from closing herself off. It's... personable. I think that's the right word, right?"

"I believe so," the older woman whispers, a blush creeping along her cheeks, watching as her love grows more cuddly by the second. "Admittedly, now that I think about it, perhaps I should consider such a thing as well. Maybe nothing as subtle or clear, given I hide myself around others. I just wonder..."

"Either way, you're still the woman I fell in love with. Nothing can take that away, that much I know," the tan woman confirms, cooing softly as she feels black nails scritch her hair. "Oh~ Why do you keep spoiling me~?"

"Because I feel like it. Do I need a further motivator~?" the elf coos, loving how her friend continues to coo and nuzzle.

The princess shakes her head, smiling as her words are used against her to give her pleasure. Even without the ability to train with swords, she still gets to feel a mixture of bliss and safety.

Everything has gone so right in a little over five months, and as such Luz and Amity can't take the wait any longer. With nobody and nothing able to ruin the moment, with even the guards unable to eavesdrop, it's the perfect time to have the talk they've been meaning to have for months now.

"...Amity, what are we to each other?" the princess asks with a softer tone than usual, uncertainty in her voice. "Like actually. Just so we don't... you know, scare each other."

The question doesn't catch Amity off-guard, the commander immediately replying, "Whatever it is you're willing to try. I'm... actually accepting of becoming your girlfriend, possibly more if so."

Luz didn't expect such a blatant response in favor of their desire, but she can't say she hates such a response. She can feel herself grow warmer as she nods, trying to form a response before she can be bombarded with more physical affection.

"I-I want to be yours too," she confirms, unable to hide her love or affection for a second longer. "Just... please don't let go~ Being your girlfriend is alright, but... where do we go from here?"

"It takes time. We won't get used to this change in our lives immediately, and we must remain professional around public company, if only to prevent a scandal. What it means for your empire, however, isn't clear from what I can see," Commander Blight answers matter-of-factly, smiling softly. "However, when it's just the two of us, we can embrace one another to our hearts' desires~ We can be us, and nothing can change such a thing. We'll also need to worry about consent; I... don't want to hurt you."

Amity's tone grows softer toward the end of her explanation. No amount of status or material possessions can compare to becoming partners with her princess, the idea of causing harm, wittingly or not, akin to a dagger through the heart. The least she can do is ensure she doesn't cross certain boundaries the princess may have, whatever they may be.

"That's... actually sweet of you! I knew you were a big softie," Luz chirps, sitting herself up to nuzzle Amity's neck. "Nothing too extreme, at least not yet. Let's start off small and go from there, is... that alright with you?"

A single nod is all Amity needs to confirm as such, a gleam of interest in her eyes as she keeps hold of her objective's waist. There's no point planning for love, but she can't lie.

"...I love you so much~"

She knows she's said such a thing before, but she can't let such a truth go unsaid. Luz deserves all the love she can be given, and if the youngest Blight will do whatever it takes to show it. She watches as Luz shivers from the soft whisper, her fingers along the top of her protector's chestplate, her desire impossible to suppress entirely. Only a single acknowledgement prevents her from taking a final plunge.

"I love you too~ I want you to be with me for as long as you can~" the princess pants, briefly composing herself enough to ask what she considers an important question. "Just... W-What are you okay with~? It's only fair you get a say in the matter, i-if we really are gonna be girlfriends..."

Several moments pass as Amity considers what she'd also consent to, touched by her companion's concern. She finally has an answer as she traces a thumb along the younger woman's cheek.

"I agree, it would be best to start small, nothing significant so that we ease into our relationship. Such a sweet thing, wanting your subordinate to want this," Commander Blight coos, enjoying how her love is trying not to squirm. "Now then, how about we start... somewhere? Just so we know where we stand."

"How about with... a kiss?" Princess Luz suggests, her fingers fidgeting with the top of her friend's chestplate. "Just... to see how it feels. At least then we'll know if we like it or not."

A single nod follows from the commander as she tilts her head downward, both her and her now-girlfriend's desires impossible to hide, even from themselves. Their desires grow as the smaller human pulls herself upward, the two's lips finally making contact.

Luz didn't know what to expect, eyes wide with surprise from how tender yet powerful Amity feels against her. She can feel her love's purrs, the vibrations seeming to flow through the human as she returns the gesture, her hands falling limp to her sides. She's felt kisses on her cheeks and forehead from her mother, the Clawthornes, even Amity, but nothing compares to a gentle mouth upon her own. She wants more, the sensation more addicting than candy, her knowledge on love forever shattered, leaving plenty of room to learn once more. She kisses back with as much fervor as possible, only able to showcase so much of her affection before her mind will blank out.

Amity can't say she's experienced such eagerness and passion, even with the lack of experience. The one person she has kissed in the past is nothing compared to the princess, her own desire for more growing by the second, forcing herself to part from the kiss. She can feel herself growing hungry for more, the sensation of someone wanting, needing her for her touch, not her status, forever ingraining itself within her mind. Tears roll down her cheeks as she succumbs to her desires.

"That was... amazing~" the elf whispers, smiling wider than ever before as she cups her love's cheek. "What about you~?"

"...You put it best~" the human replies, her voice hushed lest she succumb to pleasure so soon. "I want more, so bad~ You must be part-succubus, because... Wow~"

"So long as I'm not crossing your boundaries," Amity reminds her, tenderly embracing her now-favorite human. "Goddess Almighty, I've never loved someone so much before, and you've been there for every reason why~"

All Luz does is nod, unable to not give consent, especially given she and her commander are in-sync with what the other wants. They need more, and with the privacy of the pink-flowered tree, Mana Bushes, and various other pieces of flora, nobody will know what to look for unless they knew where they were.

Not even steel plating can detract from the snuggly sensation Luz has succumbed to, keeping her arms and legs wrapped around Amity's body. She continues to pepper her girlfriend with kisses on top of kisses, the tender purrs and slow, deliberate kissing preventing her love from thinking clearly. They keep an eye and ear out for anything that could be seen as uncomfortable, intending on remaining in absolute harmony. Every now and then, both commander and princess lock their lips together, the same bliss from before returning with more vigor than before. They are both certain they've found their second halves, intent on keeping the other safe for as long as possible.

Everything that could have gone right seems to have for the two lovebirds, lost in one another's bliss, refusing to part until the sun itself sets.

There's nothing left to do but embrace and enjoy the scenery, the next chapter of their lives at play at long last.

Chapter Text

A full six months have passed since Amity arrived at Khelyria Palace, and thus the start of her new, positive life. She no longer sees a point dwelling on the woman she once considered mother, especially knowing she'll find her redemption someday, assuming she hasn't atoned yet. Until then, however, she'll always support the empire and people who saw the good in her, to prove she's still able to atone.

It took Princess Luz and Commander Blight all day, but they finally completed what they set out to do for the day. The kitchen is empty save for the necessary ingredients, guards are positioned outside with a soundproof spell on the doors, and even the Empress, Marshal, and Head Alchemist are out attending a meeting. Even Amity's armor is replaced for something more freeing, the use of armor, for once, completely unnecessary. Events for the afternoon couldn't have been more organized even if they tried. The only steps left are the obvious ones, and from there the evening can truly be experienced between girlfriends.

Neither wishes to waste away their time together, Luz immediately getting to slicing up carrots and celery while Amity prepares the meat and potatoes. A subtle sprinkling of spices and the smallest hints of salt and pepper are added for extra flavor, the intent being to ensure not even the two's taste buds will grow bored with what comes next. With two working on a single dish at once, they suspect if they cooperate, they could prepare their batch sooner than ever before, perhaps better knowing changes can be made for a different experience.

As the pot fills with pieces of vegetables and beef, neither the princess nor the commander are able to part their eyes away from one another for long. Even as the spices are added, Luz can't help but nuzzle into a proud Amity's hand, loving knowing she's improved. What intrigues Luz right away, however, is Amity preparing a pitcher of lemonade, something to refresh her and her love's throats beyond the broth. Luz can't help but blush at the sight, realizing just how much effort's going into this one dinner. However, she refuses to let her protector do everything, sneaking one of the lemons before adding "zest" to the pot, hoping to give the stew the touch it needs to make tonight memorable.

'Our first date. It's a genuine date!' she realizes with glee, stirring the ingredients to ensure nothing goes without flavor. 'Amity's spoiling me, so I might as well do the same for her. Or at least try. We'll see!'

Amity can’t lie, she’s never seen someone apply lemon zest to stew before, but even then the portion is little more than a tablespoon’s worth. She can’t help but grow curious as to exactly how the final product will turn out regardless, only certain she will be feeding her girlfriend the delicacy one bite at a time.

Not even a mouse is in sight as the couple sits side-by-side. Maybe it would be more apparently appropriate to sit across from one another, but they’ve always considered being by each other more appropriate. It makes both women feel wanted, needed, their attention on one another with nobody and nothing in the way. Luz can’t help but lean into her elven girlfriend, her blush already encompassing her face as they enjoy stew alongside one another.

The youngest Noceda can’t help but look across Amity, her outfit a dark-gray top with a matching skirt, sleeves and leggings of amethyst-purple, black heeled boots with golden buckles completing her attire. Despite her silk-based robes of white and pink with similarly-white heels, Luz feels under-dressed, unable to look away. She can’t help but nuzzle more upon realizing just how eager she is, taking a long sip of lemonade in a desperate attempt to calm herself.

Bite by bite, Amity can’t get enough of occasionally feeding a bit of the stew for her princess, loving how she pauses before silently gulping down the meal they’ve prepared together. It feels nice not being a weapon, more so knowing she can give her now-favorite human the very thing she deserves. The desperation in the princess’s movements makes it clear she needs more, only said desire is no longer literal hunger.

She can’t help but grin, having an idea of what her princess yearns for.

”Luz, you want to sit in my lap, don’t you?” she teases, taking a moment to bite into pieces of cooked carrot and celery.

The smaller woman freezes before nodding, replying, “You’re just… I don’t know how to put it. Please, just… don’t let go. At least if you’re okay with it.”

”Trust me when I say I’ll never tire of holding you~” the elf purrs, pulling her favorite objective on top of her thighs. “There we go~ Feeling better~?”

A single nod is all the commander needs to kiss her love’s cheek, leading her to stammer as Amity takes another bite from her bowl. Feeling her love shift and squirm in her hold, never escaping but never tiring from the affection, brings peace to the Purple Paladin’s heart. She feels as if nothing could harm them, purring softly as she takes Luz’s spoon and presses a piece of beef to the human’s lips.

Luz tries the same, a trembling hand spilling drops of broth back into the bowl, before serving for the happy elf a bite of her own. Amity sees no reason not to accept the treat, doing the same once more, thus convincing a frazzled Luz to repeat her own action again. Sometimes a drop of broth falls onto the table, and before long both have finished their bowls of stew, leaving only the lemonade to drink up.

Commander Blight can only playfully chuckle as she gently embraces her dear princess, the two gazing into one another’s eyes as they kiss once more. Perhaps it’s their desire for one another overtaking their reason, perhaps they truly have fallen as deeply in love as they have. Regardless of their reasons, both the human and the elf love one another as deeply as the other, Amity adjusting so her love can wrap her legs around the taller woman’s waist.

The taste of warm broth and gentle tongues parts, a gentle hand upon Luz’s cheek apparent as she slowly composes herself, having never been pampered so much before. She never wants it to end so long as it’s done by Amity, more than happy to return the favor; all she needs to do is ask. Words alone cannot express her love for Amity, but she’ll try to show it, her mind blanking out as she nuzzles into her love’s chest, panting from physical affection and love.

Amity can’t help but pat her love on the head, letting her nuzzle deep into her bosom. She can feel her own heart race as her good girl coos from the affection, unable to stop purring to give her the pleasure she deserves.

”Good girl~” she purrs, unable to hide her pride in her favorite student. “Such a good girl, letting yourself be honest~ Just worry about when the next bowls of stew come, there’s no need to think about anything else~”

Bite by bite of stew, sip by sip of lemonade, the two start to grow more affectionate by the second. Nothing less than absolute bliss washes over the commander and princess’s minds, the former parting their kiss once more, loving how Luz has succumbed so easily. She knew Luz was always an affectionate woman, but never before would she think something so blatantly comforting would bring her to mind-blanking joy.

The younger woman, on the other hand, has permanently become addicted to Amity’s touch, not wanting to lose her for even a second. She needs more, to show her how much she means, to give her Cotton Candy Haired Goddess the love she deserves, panting as she feels gentle pale hands cup her cheeks. She feels so small, so delicate in her girlfriend’s embrace, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. The endless praise for being a caring girlfriend in return doesn’t go ignored, Luz trying to pant out praises of her own; she can’t let Amity go unrewarded.

‘I love you, Amity! I love you! Please don’t let go!’ the princess pleads internally, blushing madly as she slowly calms down. ‘…Right, girlfriends. But I need you so much~ I love you~ I love you so much~ You made me into a warrior when you didn’t have to! You showed me my worth! You deserve the same! Let me show you!’

She clings to Amity, unable to stop burying her face anywhere she can move, the elven woman cooing as she holds her submissive girlfriend’s head to her chest. She knows she can’t get enough of a soft pillow and a delicate lullaby, and she can’t want anything less than to see her succumb to bliss.

Th-Thump. Th-Thump. Th-Thump.

‘Goddess Almighty, are you adorable~ Don’t worry about showing your worth, saving my life, both figuratively and literally, is more than enough payment~’ Amity thinks to herself, at one point softly scritching the smaller woman’s hair. ‘Words alone cannot let me describe even a tiny percentage of how much I love you. Assuming you still want me a thousand days or a thousand years from now, just know you’ll always have an ally. Just keep being you. I just love you too much~’

Every now and then, Princess Luz and Commander Blight simply hold onto one another, trying to calm themselves as they take sips of lemonade. They can handle the affection they have given one another, but the last thing they want is to overwhelm the other, their movements and soft pants making it clear they’re enjoying themselves almost too much. The human in particular has become addicted to her elven companion’s touch, not caring if she seems weak at first glance.

More stew is consumed, more lemonade is drank, more physical bonding takes places, and before long, another entire pot of stew is gone. The chefs will only know cutlery and dishes will have been used, along with a small tip for putting up with, as a note quotes, “added work”.

With bellies full from the meal and bodies overexerted from physical exhaustion, Luz and Amity take to the former’s room once more. Nothing can dissuade the guards from keeping watch of the room, but they don’t mind; if the duo will train tomorrow, they now have motivation beyond merely being a political figure and her protector. The Knights of Khelyria now know of their relationship anyway, and the blessings of the higher-ups will prevent needless pushback, at least within reason.

”…Amity?”

”Yes?”

”…I love you~”

”Love you too~”

They’ve repeated the phrases and similar ones for hours on end, but they don’t feel any less true. Even as they snuggle up together, the taller woman refusing to let her girlfriend go without being told, they can’t stop showing their love for one another. Nothing can make their affection for one another any less true even if they tried, soft purrs emitting from the dominant woman’s throat as she lightly traces her nails along Luz’s back. She can feel her love shudder from the gentle touch, warming the Paladin’s heart further.

”Have I told you how adorable you are when you’re this subby~?” she coos, her golden eyes gazing into the princess’s.

A single nod from the princess confirms as such, nuzzling into her love’s bosom. She can’t get over being called cute again and again, needing more, loving knowing how despite everything, she’s still the same Luz deep down. She’s still Luz, and Amity’s still Amity.

”I like being subby for you~” Luz murmurs softly, her body limp in her love’s embrace. “Just you~”

”You make me tempted to just eat you up. But that’s for a later time~” the commander teases, tracing a tender digit across Luz’s cheek. “Let’s see where we are after some time, okay?”

The princess refuses to argue, understanding patience and seeing what must happen are key. She knows the thought has repeated in hers and Amity’s heads again and again, but it reminds them of what’s important. No amount of intimate time is worth hurting the other or destroying their boundaries with one another.

”Just… promise me you’ll tell me when you’re ready, okay?” the youngest Noceda whispers, feeling herself grow too tired to move.

”I promise, you’re too precious to scare~ Now just get some sleep, we have a long day of training tomorrow,” the older woman purrs, her own mind growing tired.

It was the best night’s rest either woman has had in years.