Chapter 321 - The Northern Brigade V
Arciel looked over a ledger as her carriage bumped its way through the busy streets. On a normal day, she would have climbed aboard Marcelle’s airborne carrier, but the manatee was out on an adventure with her lizard-shaped friend. As such, she settled for a standard turberus-drawn coach and slowly made her way towards the western district.
Her personal knight was her sole accompaniment; he was the only person in the castle ready to go at a moment’s notice. Everyone else was too busy preparing for departure; the maids were packing clothes and food, the royal guard was reviewing its security measures, and Claire was in Cadria, attending another one of her father’s lessons. Matthias’ freedom stemmed from neither an empty schedule nor a feat of organizational competence. Rather, it was all thanks to his wife. The missus, who had visited the capital to see him off, had already sorted out his luggage and coerced him into completing his various tasks. She had recently joined the castle’s staff as one of the queen’s personal maids; the last of their children had finally left the nest, so she seized a post that would allow her to keep a close eye on the fool she called her husband.
Said husband had just recently seen his genitalia returned. Alfred’s operations had healed enough of Arciel’s kin that her closest advisors were no longer concerned with the royal bloodline’s extinction. Her family’s revival had come as a great relief; Alfred had saved her from undesired reproduction. The rear palace’s restoration was subsequently put on hold, with all the scheduled funds poured into community projects instead. The project was slated to resume following an economic uptick, but Arciel had every intention of delaying it for as long as she could. She had never been particularly interested in having children, and learning the process’ details from her aunt had only further dissuaded her. Tentacles were not meant for such disturbing applications.
Discarding the thought with a tired sigh, the squid turned her attention away from her squirming legs and looked outside the carriage. They were nearing their destination. The streets were almost perfectly clear, but not because the district was depopulated. The arviads simply preferred their aerial routes. The eldritch bird people came in a variety of different shapes and sizes, ranging from owls to pigeons to sparrows and hawks. Their approximate body shape was the only consistent thing about them, besides their impressive average level.
Most prominent among all the arviads was the divine protector known as Meltys. With her abilities bolstered by a holy relic, the large pink duck was the species’ most powerful member. She was a master of the primordial flame and one of the few Vel’khanese citizens that the squid suspected she was unable to defeat. Not even her third ascension could make up the difference wrought by the bird’s absurd divinity. She was a perfect candidate for the upcoming war, but she had never responded to the nationwide call.
“We’re here,” said Matthias. He stopped the carriage in front of a particularly tall building before opening the door for his master. “Want me to come in with you?”
Arciel paused for a moment to consider. “That will not be necessary.” She stepped down from the carriage and approached the front door. By all means, it was an overdue visitation; there was only a week left before they would have to depart. She would have preferred a much earlier communication, but their schedules had never aligned. Ciel was too busy scouting the road ahead and filling in the gaps in Griselda’s instructions; she had only a few rare moments of spare time, few of which were long enough to cover the bird’s recruitment. In the meantime, Meltys had been flying back and forth between Vel’khagan and the new arviad settlement located a few dozen kilometers away. The royal squid had considered sending a messenger on her behalf, but she had ultimately dismissed the option on account of its lack of sincerity.
With the opportunity finally extended, the squid raised her hand to the door and gave it a knock. A confused squawk came from the building’s interior. A bit of flapping and quacking later, the door was opened to reveal everyone except for the divine protector.
“Hello.” Falgwyn, Meltys’ mother, stood in the hall with her younger child sticking his head out of a nearby room. She didn’t recognize Arciel immediately. She was a little confused at first, snapping to attention only as she looked past the queen and saw the fancy carriage in which she had arrived.
“Good afternoon. Might I speak with Meltys?” asked the imperial bloodkraken.
“Of course,” said Falgwyn. “Come right in. I’ll show you to our guest room.” She spoke cordially as she led the squid further into the house. Her son followed the pair through the halls, though he stayed a fair distance and fled each time Ciel looked in his direction.
“Please have a seat wherever you’d like,” said the bird, as she slid open a large room. There were a few cushions placed next to a low table, as well as a number of perches set at different heights. “Would you like some tea while you wait?”
“I shall refrain, thank you,” said Arciel.
“Then she’ll be with you shortly.” Excusing herself, Meltys’ mother closed the door and left Arciel with her thoughts.
The queen took the opportunity to look around and examine the room. The design was admittedly haphazard. The buildings that they had thrown together for the arviads certainly took their occupants into consideration, but at the end of the day, they were rush jobs. The carpenters responsible had focused more on the speed with which they erected the houses than on any of the particular details. Still, it looked like they were serving their purposes correctly.
The numerous scratches on the removable perches confirmed that they were seeing continued use, and the bits and pieces of the house she had seen all looked fairly lived in. The room’s outer edges were especially well decorated. The walls were covered in massive sheets of paper. Each had only a single piece to its name, which caught everything from one corner to the next. Though fragile enough to break at the slightest touch, the coverings were largely unblemished. The only visible damage sat right at the level of a certain duckling’s beak. Perhaps that was why most of the illustrations were painted closer to the ceiling. The few on the ground level were simple scribbles made in messy ink—clear evidence of the child's misbehaviour.
Artwork aside, the room was of a primarily minimal style. There were a few simple vases placed around the wooden shelves and some native flora placed within them, but that was about the extent of the decoration.
The door slid open again right as she finished the thought. Meltys walked through the entrance with her eyes narrowed and her beak twisted into a pout. She was never exactly in the best of moods to see the squid and her friends, especially not after Claire had bothered her for more information on the use of her divinity.
“Hello,” said the duck, curtly.
“Good afternoon, Meltys,” said Ciel. “Have you already heard of the conflict looming over our heads?”
The duck walked up to the tea table and sat down on a cushion. But even then, she didn’t speak up. She spent a few seconds tapping a wing against the desk before she finally responded. “I have.”
“I would appreciate it if you were to volunteer your services.”
Meltys narrowed her eyes into a glare. “I will not.”
“Might I ask the reason?”
The duck ruffled her feathers and narrowed her eyes. “Have you already forgotten how you attacked our people and drove us from our homes? We were never allies. I only worked with you to prevent my species’ destruction.”
“I am well aware.”
Arciel knew that there was nothing to be said. She had certainly provided an alternative to Pollux’s eradication, but at the end of the day, the divine protector was entirely correct. The squid had slaughtered her people and ordered Skyreach Spire’s destruction. And though she had offered some degree of compensation, her crimes weighed more on the arviads’ mind than the helping hand extended. To assume that the eldritch birds felt any debt of gratitude was but a foolish delusion. And though she had hoped for her fantasies to establish themselves in reality, the squid was prepared to face the stage that she had set.
“Still,” she looked the bird straight in the eyes, “I wished to make the request. You are one of the most powerful duelists that resides within this nation’s borders. Even knowing of our history, I have little choice but to plead with you in person.”
The duck met the admission with a hostile glare, but Arciel continued regardless.
“I have no intention of allowing your efforts to go unrewarded. I have budgeted two thousand pounds of gold for this district’s development in the coming year. If you are willing to comply, then I shall not only triple that number but push forward legislation to provide you with a rank and fifty thousand acres of inheritable land. I shall even provide a contract, sworn before the goddess of order, that dictates your domain as irrevocable so that no future Vel’khanese monarch may ever reclaim it for herself.”
It was an absurd offer. And yet, Meltys remained silent. She tapped a bright orange foot against the floor as she closed her eyes and brooded. Her expression started to soften. But still, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Arciel, but I cannot accept. I do see that you’ve done your best to treat us fairly and earnestly. As the leader of my people, it would likely be the right choice to take your hand and accept your offer. But I cannot.” She turned her head towards the doorway, and after a few moments of inspection, began speaking under her breath. “I cannot possibly bring myself to risk my life if it means leaving my mother to bear the burden of raising my brother alone.”
Falgwyn’s restaurant was doing fairly well. It drew in a few dozen each night, and it was even growing in popularity among the indigenous Vel’khanese. Money was not an issue, but the same could hardly be said for time.
“She works long hours, often fifteen or more a day, and she still insists on doing everything around the house. The only chance I have at stopping her from overexerting herself is to complete all the chores before she comes home. She’ll work herself sick in the weeks or months that I’m away. I don’t want to even begin to imagine the state she’d be in if I never returned.”
Arciel clenched a fist under the table. “I understand. I shall ask no more.” The queen rose from her seat and moved towards the door. “I will leave you to your business. You are free to forget that this request had ever come to pass.”
“Wait.” Meltys also got to her feet. “There is no need for me to forget it in its entirety,” she said. “While I have no intention of becoming one of your champions, I do intend on playing a role.” She paused briefly, her breath heavier than usual. “Arciel Vel’khan. I will defend your capital during your absence. I don’t know what other enemies you have, but none of them will pass through the castle’s gates for as long as my flame is lit.”
Arciel smiled. “Thank you, Meltys. I shall leave my people under your wings.”
Not saying another word, the queen saw herself out. She reversed her way through the halls, wandered out the door, and after taking a moment to stare at the sky, climbed back into the carriage.
“No dice?” asked Matthias, from the driver’s seat.
“She was more understanding than I had expected, but no, unfortunately not,” said the squid. She closed the door behind her and leaned on the window. The lazy pose crimped the edge of her giant witch hat, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.
“You’ll want to pull the curtains if you’re going to do that,” said the thrice-ascended rhiar. “That’s not exactly the kind of look you’d want the people to see.”
“I shall in a moment.”
Despite her words, the queen’s hands remained unmoving. She continued gazing out the window as the scenery started to move.
She had always known that it was better not to depend on Meltys’ cooperation, but it was not as if the prior knowledge had softened the blow. The fact remained that they needed to fill another four slots. The first three were owned by Claire, Matthias, and herself. She would have welcomed the erdbrecher matriarch with open arms, but the elephant people had long vacated the country. There were still a few weaker individuals, who had stayed behind because they happened to like the environment, but most had returned to the sands and dunes that they called their home; it was they that had led Claire across the desert when she murdered the target their boss had named.
Though it was shameful to admit, an ideal lineup would have been made almost entirely of foreigners. Even Matthias was technically a transplant. He had lived in Vel’khan for long enough to earn his citizenship many times over, but he had been born and raised in Primrose’s grove; his people typically served as deterrents, tasked with guarding the goddess' domain against unwanted outsiders.
The lay of the land was the leading cause of Vel’khanese weakness. More specifically, the fault stemmed from a lack of local threats. The dungeon density was simply too low, and the few that housed higher-level creatures were effectively without overflow. Sometimes, it was because they had installed defensive measures, as was the case with Farenlight’s den, but in many other cases, the dungeons were simply configured in such a way that disasters were unlikely to occur. The Vel’khanese people rarely ever felt the threat of violence. And that was why their levels were low—so low that they had no choice but to request foreign aid when faced with a dungeon with a simple stormy shield.
They were simply not prepared to face a nation whose average soldiers were as powerful as their elites. They might have stood a better chance had there not just been a coup. The previous queen's most trusted men had been strong enough that they might have stood a chance with some training. Alas, they were dead. None had survived the night of her ascension.
There were a few fighters making names for themselves through the colosseum, but it was not as if the individuals in question had broken away from the Vel’khanese norm. They too were weak enough to be summarily dismissed. Even with Griselda’s plan laid out before her, the squid was in a state of half-panic. Sylvia was the only person within the nation’s borders already capable of standing toe to toe with a Cadrian champion, and she was banned from the roster.
Claire had been vehemently opposed to her participation, citing matters of pride and prejudice. The fox herself didn’t quite seem to mind helping; Arciel suspected that she could convince the lyrkress if the situation proved dire enough.
Her only other hope lay with Matthias’ friend, a supposed masterful fighter by the name of Ace. According to the mantis, who had paid the person in question a visit and confirmed his participation, he was sure to blow her away.
But even then, assuming the best conditions, they were only up to five.
She had no way to make up the difference.
Not unless Griselda’s plan produced a set of miraculous results.
Chapter 321 - The Northern Brigade V
Arciel looked over a ledger as her carriage bumped its way through the busy streets. On a normal day, she would have climbed aboard Marcelle’s airborne carrier, but the manatee was out on an adventure with her lizard-shaped friend. As such, she settled for a standard turberus-drawn coach and slowly made her way towards the western district.
Her personal knight was her sole accompaniment; he was the only person in the castle ready to go at a moment’s notice. Everyone else was too busy preparing for departure; the maids were packing clothes and food, the royal guard was reviewing its security measures, and Claire was in Cadria, attending another one of her father’s lessons. Matthias’ freedom stemmed from neither an empty schedule nor a feat of organizational competence. Rather, it was all thanks to his wife. The missus, who had visited the capital to see him off, had already sorted out his luggage and coerced him into completing his various tasks. She had recently joined the castle’s staff as one of the queen’s personal maids; the last of their children had finally left the nest, so she seized a post that would allow her to keep a close eye on the fool she called her husband.
Said husband had just recently seen his genitalia returned. Alfred’s operations had healed enough of Arciel’s kin that her closest advisors were no longer concerned with the royal bloodline’s extinction. Her family’s revival had come as a great relief; Alfred had saved her from undesired reproduction. The rear palace’s restoration was subsequently put on hold, with all the scheduled funds poured into community projects instead. The project was slated to resume following an economic uptick, but Arciel had every intention of delaying it for as long as she could. She had never been particularly interested in having children, and learning the process’ details from her aunt had only further dissuaded her. Tentacles were not meant for such disturbing applications.
Discarding the thought with a tired sigh, the squid turned her attention away from her squirming legs and looked outside the carriage. They were nearing their destination. The streets were almost perfectly clear, but not because the district was depopulated. The arviads simply preferred their aerial routes. The eldritch bird people came in a variety of different shapes and sizes, ranging from owls to pigeons to sparrows and hawks. Their approximate body shape was the only consistent thing about them, besides their impressive average level.
Most prominent among all the arviads was the divine protector known as Meltys. With her abilities bolstered by a holy relic, the large pink duck was the species’ most powerful member. She was a master of the primordial flame and one of the few Vel’khanese citizens that the squid suspected she was unable to defeat. Not even her third ascension could make up the difference wrought by the bird’s absurd divinity. She was a perfect candidate for the upcoming war, but she had never responded to the nationwide call.
“We’re here,” said Matthias. He stopped the carriage in front of a particularly tall building before opening the door for his master. “Want me to come in with you?”
Arciel paused for a moment to consider. “That will not be necessary.” She stepped down from the carriage and approached the front door. By all means, it was an overdue visitation; there was only a week left before they would have to depart. She would have preferred a much earlier communication, but their schedules had never aligned. Ciel was too busy scouting the road ahead and filling in the gaps in Griselda’s instructions; she had only a few rare moments of spare time, few of which were long enough to cover the bird’s recruitment. In the meantime, Meltys had been flying back and forth between Vel’khagan and the new arviad settlement located a few dozen kilometers away. The royal squid had considered sending a messenger on her behalf, but she had ultimately dismissed the option on account of its lack of sincerity.
With the opportunity finally extended, the squid raised her hand to the door and gave it a knock. A confused squawk came from the building’s interior. A bit of flapping and quacking later, the door was opened to reveal everyone except for the divine protector.
“Hello.” Falgwyn, Meltys’ mother, stood in the hall with her younger child sticking his head out of a nearby room. She didn’t recognize Arciel immediately. She was a little confused at first, snapping to attention only as she looked past the queen and saw the fancy carriage in which she had arrived.
“Good afternoon. Might I speak with Meltys?” asked the imperial bloodkraken.
“Of course,” said Falgwyn. “Come right in. I’ll show you to our guest room.” She spoke cordially as she led the squid further into the house. Her son followed the pair through the halls, though he stayed a fair distance and fled each time Ciel looked in his direction.
“Please have a seat wherever you’d like,” said the bird, as she slid open a large room. There were a few cushions placed next to a low table, as well as a number of perches set at different heights. “Would you like some tea while you wait?”
“I shall refrain, thank you,” said Arciel.
“Then she’ll be with you shortly.” Excusing herself, Meltys’ mother closed the door and left Arciel with her thoughts.
The queen took the opportunity to look around and examine the room. The design was admittedly haphazard. The buildings that they had thrown together for the arviads certainly took their occupants into consideration, but at the end of the day, they were rush jobs. The carpenters responsible had focused more on the speed with which they erected the houses than on any of the particular details. Still, it looked like they were serving their purposes correctly.
The numerous scratches on the removable perches confirmed that they were seeing continued use, and the bits and pieces of the house she had seen all looked fairly lived in. The room’s outer edges were especially well decorated. The walls were covered in massive sheets of paper. Each had only a single piece to its name, which caught everything from one corner to the next. Though fragile enough to break at the slightest touch, the coverings were largely unblemished. The only visible damage sat right at the level of a certain duckling’s beak. Perhaps that was why most of the illustrations were painted closer to the ceiling. The few on the ground level were simple scribbles made in messy ink—clear evidence of the child's misbehaviour.
Artwork aside, the room was of a primarily minimal style. There were a few simple vases placed around the wooden shelves and some native flora placed within them, but that was about the extent of the decoration.
The door slid open again right as she finished the thought. Meltys walked through the entrance with her eyes narrowed and her beak twisted into a pout. She was never exactly in the best of moods to see the squid and her friends, especially not after Claire had bothered her for more information on the use of her divinity.
“Hello,” said the duck, curtly.
“Good afternoon, Meltys,” said Ciel. “Have you already heard of the conflict looming over our heads?”
The duck walked up to the tea table and sat down on a cushion. But even then, she didn’t speak up. She spent a few seconds tapping a wing against the desk before she finally responded. “I have.”
“I would appreciate it if you were to volunteer your services.”
Meltys narrowed her eyes into a glare. “I will not.”
“Might I ask the reason?”
The duck ruffled her feathers and narrowed her eyes. “Have you already forgotten how you attacked our people and drove us from our homes? We were never allies. I only worked with you to prevent my species’ destruction.”
“I am well aware.”
Arciel knew that there was nothing to be said. She had certainly provided an alternative to Pollux’s eradication, but at the end of the day, the divine protector was entirely correct. The squid had slaughtered her people and ordered Skyreach Spire’s destruction. And though she had offered some degree of compensation, her crimes weighed more on the arviads’ mind than the helping hand extended. To assume that the eldritch birds felt any debt of gratitude was but a foolish delusion. And though she had hoped for her fantasies to establish themselves in reality, the squid was prepared to face the stage that she had set.
“Still,” she looked the bird straight in the eyes, “I wished to make the request. You are one of the most powerful duelists that resides within this nation’s borders. Even knowing of our history, I have little choice but to plead with you in person.”
The duck met the admission with a hostile glare, but Arciel continued regardless.
“I have no intention of allowing your efforts to go unrewarded. I have budgeted two thousand pounds of gold for this district’s development in the coming year. If you are willing to comply, then I shall not only triple that number but push forward legislation to provide you with a rank and fifty thousand acres of inheritable land. I shall even provide a contract, sworn before the goddess of order, that dictates your domain as irrevocable so that no future Vel’khanese monarch may ever reclaim it for herself.”
It was an absurd offer. And yet, Meltys remained silent. She tapped a bright orange foot against the floor as she closed her eyes and brooded. Her expression started to soften. But still, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Arciel, but I cannot accept. I do see that you’ve done your best to treat us fairly and earnestly. As the leader of my people, it would likely be the right choice to take your hand and accept your offer. But I cannot.” She turned her head towards the doorway, and after a few moments of inspection, began speaking under her breath. “I cannot possibly bring myself to risk my life if it means leaving my mother to bear the burden of raising my brother alone.”
Falgwyn’s restaurant was doing fairly well. It drew in a few dozen each night, and it was even growing in popularity among the indigenous Vel’khanese. Money was not an issue, but the same could hardly be said for time.
“She works long hours, often fifteen or more a day, and she still insists on doing everything around the house. The only chance I have at stopping her from overexerting herself is to complete all the chores before she comes home. She’ll work herself sick in the weeks or months that I’m away. I don’t want to even begin to imagine the state she’d be in if I never returned.”
Arciel clenched a fist under the table. “I understand. I shall ask no more.” The queen rose from her seat and moved towards the door. “I will leave you to your business. You are free to forget that this request had ever come to pass.”
“Wait.” Meltys also got to her feet. “There is no need for me to forget it in its entirety,” she said. “While I have no intention of becoming one of your champions, I do intend on playing a role.” She paused briefly, her breath heavier than usual. “Arciel Vel’khan. I will defend your capital during your absence. I don’t know what other enemies you have, but none of them will pass through the castle’s gates for as long as my flame is lit.”
Arciel smiled. “Thank you, Meltys. I shall leave my people under your wings.”
Not saying another word, the queen saw herself out. She reversed her way through the halls, wandered out the door, and after taking a moment to stare at the sky, climbed back into the carriage.
“No dice?” asked Matthias, from the driver’s seat.
“She was more understanding than I had expected, but no, unfortunately not,” said the squid. She closed the door behind her and leaned on the window. The lazy pose crimped the edge of her giant witch hat, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.
“You’ll want to pull the curtains if you’re going to do that,” said the thrice-ascended rhiar. “That’s not exactly the kind of look you’d want the people to see.”
“I shall in a moment.”
Despite her words, the queen’s hands remained unmoving. She continued gazing out the window as the scenery started to move.
She had always known that it was better not to depend on Meltys’ cooperation, but it was not as if the prior knowledge had softened the blow. The fact remained that they needed to fill another four slots. The first three were owned by Claire, Matthias, and herself. She would have welcomed the erdbrecher matriarch with open arms, but the elephant people had long vacated the country. There were still a few weaker individuals, who had stayed behind because they happened to like the environment, but most had returned to the sands and dunes that they called their home; it was they that had led Claire across the desert when she murdered the target their boss had named.
Though it was shameful to admit, an ideal lineup would have been made almost entirely of foreigners. Even Matthias was technically a transplant. He had lived in Vel’khan for long enough to earn his citizenship many times over, but he had been born and raised in Primrose’s grove; his people typically served as deterrents, tasked with guarding the goddess' domain against unwanted outsiders.
The lay of the land was the leading cause of Vel’khanese weakness. More specifically, the fault stemmed from a lack of local threats. The dungeon density was simply too low, and the few that housed higher-level creatures were effectively without overflow. Sometimes, it was because they had installed defensive measures, as was the case with Farenlight’s den, but in many other cases, the dungeons were simply configured in such a way that disasters were unlikely to occur. The Vel’khanese people rarely ever felt the threat of violence. And that was why their levels were low—so low that they had no choice but to request foreign aid when faced with a dungeon with a simple stormy shield.
They were simply not prepared to face a nation whose average soldiers were as powerful as their elites. They might have stood a better chance had there not just been a coup. The previous queen's most trusted men had been strong enough that they might have stood a chance with some training. Alas, they were dead. None had survived the night of her ascension.
There were a few fighters making names for themselves through the colosseum, but it was not as if the individuals in question had broken away from the Vel’khanese norm. They too were weak enough to be summarily dismissed. Even with Griselda’s plan laid out before her, the squid was in a state of half-panic. Sylvia was the only person within the nation’s borders already capable of standing toe to toe with a Cadrian champion, and she was banned from the roster.
Claire had been vehemently opposed to her participation, citing matters of pride and prejudice. The fox herself didn’t quite seem to mind helping; Arciel suspected that she could convince the lyrkress if the situation proved dire enough.
Her only other hope lay with Matthias’ friend, a supposed masterful fighter by the name of Ace. According to the mantis, who had paid the person in question a visit and confirmed his participation, he was sure to blow her away.
But even then, assuming the best conditions, they were only up to five.
She had no way to make up the difference.
Not unless Griselda’s plan produced a set of miraculous results.
