Blade and Soul

by C. M. Estopare

  The Soliel's quarters, she assumed.

  But he did not stop there. Leading her to two frost glazed glass doors, he opened them to reveal a large stone balcony. The view overlooking the blue mountains. The scene spectacular. Much better than the view from her tiny window.

  Here, she could feel the icy breath of the blue mountains. Could hear its voice as the wind soared over it, brushing up snow and ice. Overhead, the sky was a gray overcast. Clouds moving, pouring in from the south.

  “Kiran says, 'Watch the skies', but what good will that do? With all these damned clouds.” Ludovic said as he walked toward the balcony's balustrade. Ripping off his black leather gloves, he clenched his fingers. Looked back at Marceline, “Want to see something neat?”

  “I know what you're going to do,” she found herself saying. Hand to her heart, “don't.”

  He shrugged. Fire roaring to life in his open palm, “You've seen it once. I'm itching to try it again—see how far I can get the fire to go.”

  She swallowed. Nodded. Magic made her skin crawl—it was so foreign. So rare.

  Facing the balustrade completely, he brought his hand to the sky. Fire whirred to life around it. A ball of smoking flame. Rearing his hand back, he flung the ball of fire at the mountain face beyond.

  Far beyond.

  It flew. Zoomed. Marceline came to the balustrade and leaned over. Watched smoke erupt from the mountain's face with a low hiss. She smiled. Brought her fingertips to her lips.

  “Amazing, isn't it?”

  Silently, she nodded.

  “Humans haven't been able to command magic for centuries.” she whispered, repeating her teachings from the Bann. “I am still shocked...”

  “It's not magic.” he told her, “The Sybil calls this—,” and he brought it back to life once more, watched it with awe as it glowed in his palm, “'The Element.' Only certain Champions are imbued with the ability to use it. Until now, I had no idea how the alchemists of the Sybil did it—transferring the Element from Champion to Champion—but, now...” he flung another fireball. Watched it fly and sizzle.

  “Manifique...” Marceline murmured, her jaw dropping, “...simply...”

  “I know you saw me testing it—back there. On our way here.”

  Marceline blinked. She had almost forgotten.

  “You could have asked around the Spears about it. Spread rumors—something—but you kept it to yourself.” he wagged a finger at her. Nodded, “That's why I trust you, Marceline. You're dutiful and more than worthy of it.”

  She kept her eyes on the mountains.

  Does he know nothing of the Master who came to visit me?

  “Who else have you shown this to?” she asked, digging her fingers into the cold frost upon the balustrade, “Vidonia? Severin?”

  “No one.” he told her simply, “For fear of word getting out that I've got—well, they can only describe it as magic. Though it's not. And just as you've said—humans have not controlled magic for centuries—this would frighten my people. They wouldn't be able to follow me knowing I'm...different. Changed in such a way...”

  “Yet, they know of what happened at the vineyard and forgave you?”

  He clenched his fists, “People can be very selfish sometimes. It does not effect them—not directly—and so they do not care. They count it up as a loss and move on.” he shook his head, “It's saddening.”

  “But they've forgiven you?”

  “Mhm.”

  Wind blew. Icy and hard. It whipped Marceline's hair across her face. Scratching at her.

  Should I tell him of the threat against the Spears? That Master's promise...

  It'll only happen if I fail.

  She set her jaw, then I will not.

  Silence hung like a veil. Ludovic seemed to be enjoying it.

  A dog's deep bark shattered it. Broke the silence as balcony's glass doors were thrown open and a giggling young boy came sprinting out, followed by a curly haired wolfhound as black as midnight.

  “Young, sir! Wait!” wheezed a breathless woman.

  Ludovic turned, threw back his head and laughed.

  “Ludovic! Lud—I've found you!”

  “Were you searching for me?”

  “Lady Valentine has taught me how to use a compass!” the little boy screeched, rushing into Ludovic's arms as he kneeled and stretched them wide.

  “Well where is it?” Ludovic asked, pinching the little boy's reddened nose, “Your compass?”

  The wolfhound near him barked. Tilted its head and lolled out its tongue.

  “Well I—I think I've lost it!”

  “No, it's here little man! Get back!” called an older woman from the doors as she picked up her skirts and shuffled into the cold.

  Ludovic picked the young man up. Gave him a peck on the forehead and let him go, “You know you aren't supposed to be up here.”

  The little boy's face fell, “Sorry, Lud—I just...” his eyes fell on Marceline. He blushed, his face going as red as a tomato, “Madam.” he mis-titled her, bowing from the waist like a little lord.

  The child looked nothing like Ludovic. While Ludovic could have easily passed as a farmer or a blacksmith, the child looked extremely feminine. Limber and keen. Like a lord's son or a child with important blood flowing through his veins. He did not have Ludovic's facial deformities. Nor his broadness of back or natural strength.

  The child looked positively celestial.

  Marceline returned his bow with a curtsy of her own, pulling at skirts that weren't there, “Little Monsieur.” she teased.

  The little boy beamed. The wolfhound barked, sitting on its haunches.

  Awkwardly, Marceline waved at the animal. She was not fond of dogs.

  “Enough, enough!” the governess called, shuffling through the frost. Trembling as the cold hit her, “He got away from me, Ludovic—I'm sorry, so sorry.” she hunched over and took the young man by his ear, “And you!” she pulled him away, shuffling back toward the warmth of the inside, “I've told you time and time again—if I fall asleep during your readings you're to wake me! Not go traipsing around...!”

  Ludovic sent a smile Marceline's way before kneeling to pet the wolfhound, “Go on, Paw. Find your sister.” the dog whimpered. Barked and shuffled away. Went careening into the governess's backside and earned a smack on the head from her.

  The boy waved. Flashed a winning smile before disappearing into the chambers beyond with his agitated governess.

  The doors shut behind the group and all was silent once more.

  Marceline laughed, “What an intelligent young man.”

  Ludovic shook his head, “Nothing like me.”

  She refrained from asking about the boy's familial ties. It was clear to her that there were none.

  “You're a good person.” Marceline told Ludovic, “For taking an orphan in.”

  Ludovic simply shrugged, going back to the balustrade. Admiring the view once more. His face told volumes. The slight shake of his head at her complement.

  He didn't believe her.

  “After these few hours, nothing will be quite this calm again.” he said, changing the subject, “It's good to share a laugh before everything gets so...serious.”

  She agreed. Nodding her head.

  “The quiet before the storm. The very eye of it.” he flashed her a smile. A wink, “Once the winds come, lets pray we don't get torn asunder by them.”

  They stood watching. Listening. Enjoying each others company. Refusing to speak on anything.

  Silence was their rule as the day went on. Minutes merging into hours.

  He left. Returned with blankets and warm spiced wine as the sun dipped below the clouds.

  With a steaming black mug in her hands, Marceline blinked. Something cold and wet kissed her nose.

  Snow.

  She smiled. Looked up.

  They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sparkling bits of frost falling from the sky.

  Ludovic's tongue sprang from h
is mouth as he attempted to catch the little flurries. Beside him, Marceline giggled.

  And in a moment, Marceline's smile vanished.

  How could she be happy knowing the fate of this place? Of these people?

  She shook the snow from her hair.

  Tomorrow, this peace will die.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Marceline

  They gathered in the courtyard beneath the cover of night, hours before the sunrise. Two torches lit their path to the fortress's portcullis. Before the iron gate sat a pearly white carriage attached to two powerful Clydesdales. Two more limber mounts pranced on either sides of the carriage, snorting and pawing at the shadow painted cobbles as the group approached.

  Talon, Adelaide and Clara parted from the group. They were followed by Vidonia's entourage of two women dressed in the finest of Vidonia's massive collection of gowns. They made their way toward the carriage carrying tiny vials of electric blue liquid. Passing the vials on to Marceline's agents, the three slipped into the back of the carriage with Vidonia's droughts in hand while Vidonia's entourage climbed into the front seat of the carriage.

  What was left of the group paused. Huddled close.

  “One more time,” Kiran said, torch hefted up high, “go on, Rosetta.”

  Vidonia's jaw clenched at the mention of her first name, “Marceline and Ludovic, you're to escort us through the countryside. Severin and Kiran, you're to keep watch over the fort until the Soliel returns.” Vidonia looked at Ludovic pointedly, “Once the citadels are within sight, I'll give you a lodestone. With it, we'll be able to communicate as long as you're within range of mine.”

  Ludovic nodded. Severin cleared his throat. Clasped his hands behind his back, “I'll set up a round the clock watch of four men on every watchtower. If you're gone for more than two days...”

  Kiran waved his hand, “We'll assume command until you return.”

  “Vidonia,” Marceline said, “once you're in the citadel, you'll have command of my people...”

  “And I will use them to discover the highscale's identity, and whomever it may be bonded to. Your agents will kidnap its bondmate and bring them back to the fortress.”

  “And it will be our choice to kill them?” Kiran asked.

  “There won't be a vote on this. That thing's bondmate dies,” Severin snapped, “immediately.”

  Marceline pursed her lips.

  “Anymore input?” Ludovic said, looking to each of his councilmen pointedly.

  “Do we have an alternative?” Marceline found herself saying, “What if the droughts don't work? What if the highscale returns? How long will my agents have to find its bondmate before it destroys Safrana entirely?”

  All eyes fell to Vidonia.

  She simply shrugged, “I will not lie, I've never detained a dragon before. Much less, a highscale. I have no idea how long this will detain it for—or if they will even work.” she smiled, “But I do have a backup. Acid hurts every living creature and I've stocked up a good amount of it.”

  “Good.” Ludovic nodded, “Anything else?”

  The group returned his gaze, questions lingering. Fading out into the night's black sky.

  Ludovic puffed out his chest. Crossed his arms as his face darkened, his smile vanishing. His eyes took on a flash of severity. His gaze hardening.

  And then, he grinned. Broke out into a laugh. Didn't bother stopping himself.

  Marceline grimaced. Positively annoyed as the rest of the group sighed or rolled their eyes.

  “We're doing this, then! Wow—we've all done so much! But it was always little bit by little bit...Severin!” the big man raised his eyebrows, “Remember when you joined up? Your old captain forced you to retire because you saw things differently.”

  Severin couldn't stop his smile, “Course I remember. I just wanted more patrols in the southern districts of the eastern citadel. Seemed like that was too much...”

  “I especially remember Kiran,” Ludovic half-chuckled, half-snorted, “your people attacked us!”

  Kiran shrugged. Laughed half-heartedly, “We were hungry. Pretty much starving to death. This old place seemed like a prime target.”

  Vidonia narrowed her eyes, “Move on, Ludovic. I don't need to be reminded of how the Spears saved me. I think I've shown enough gratitude.”

  Ludovic nudged Marceline in the shoulder, “We found her on the fringes of society. Half-dead.”

  Beneath her breath, Vidonia grumbled.

  “And then, there was you.” Ludovic smiled, turning to Marceline. Finally, he turned to face them all, “You've all been great friends to me. Though you may be loyal for personal reasons, I'm grateful for everything that each of you has done for the Spears and Safrana.” his eyebrows lowered, his expression one of determination, “Things will change in our city—and this, is only the beginning of that great change.”

  Marceline's heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. Something warm ignited in her. Ignited in them all as they acknowledged Ludovic's heartfelt words with genuine gestures of their own; smiles and nods. A hastily murmured prayer here and there.

  “Let us begin.”

  THEY RODE UNTIL THE twin citadels of Safrana came into view. White spires twinkling in the coming sunrise. The Great Bridge of Safrana standing tall against the backdrop of tangerine brightening the dark sky.

  Stopping along the dirt path, Vidonia maneuvered the carriage's horses to the side of the trail. Dropped out of the driver's seat and approached Ludovic and Marceline.

  The two slid from their mounts.

  Digging into the deep pocket of her riding cloak, Vidonia produced an oval stone of ice blue glass. She held it in her palm. Closed her fingers around it, “This is a lodestone.” she explained, handing it over to Ludovic, “I have a similar one. It's used for seamless communication between peers. Listen, Lud,” she leaned in, attempting to cut Marceline out of their conversation, “you need to stay within view of the citadel until we're across the great bridge and I'm able to establish a beacon for it. If you move, the stone will disintegrate if it does not have a beacon. Do you understand?”

  “Just sit out here in the open?” Marceline hissed.

  Vidonia threw her an icy glare, “Move into the woods. Just don't lose sight of the citadels.”

  “How long will we have to stay here?” Ludovic asked, rubbing his fingers on the stone, “It's cold to the touch.”

  “Don't play with it.” Vidonia snapped, “These things are a pain to make.” she sighed, crossing her arms, “We should cross the great bridge around midday and I'll set a beacon immediately. This shouldn't take long at all.”

  “But it's not even morning.”

  Vidonia chuckled, “Patience. All plans take time.” she held out her hand for Ludovic to clasp. He slapped her forearm. They shook.

  “Marceline.” Vidonia called, holding out her hand again, “Good luck to you.”

  “Stay sharp.” she replied, clasping Vidonia's forearm. Shaking it.

  “Stay safe Ludovic, Marceline.” and she bowed. Walked to the carriage and pulled herself up. With a snap of the reigns, she drove the horses hard toward the two citadels crowning on the horizon.

  Dust flew in her wake. Marceline watched the carriage disappear toward the horizon, her people in the back.

  I will not worry.

  For I have taught them well.

  LUDOVIC AND MARCELINE led their mounts into the surrounding forest bowing over the edge of the trail. Beneath a fat oak, they tied their mounts reigns to the overhanging branches and allowed the horses to rest. Sleep.

  The sun rose. Morning came and went.

  Sitting with her back against the large trunk of the tree, Marceline waited. Unable to close her eyes, her heart beating strongly. Sounding off in her ears.

  For hours, Ludovic paced through the brush. Checking the lodestone, placing it back in his pocket. Checking it again.

  Suddenly, it lit up.

  A roaring buzz sounded from it, like millions of vo
ices all hollering at once. Cathedral bells rang. A smattering of voices called out—challenged, sold, commanded others to move. Hoof beats resounded off of cobbles. The laughter of children rang out like the harsh peel of a flute.

  “We're at the toll. Close enough. There's a delay—a long, long line of people are trying to cross the bridge today. This place...this place is a mess...”

  The surrounding noise of Safranians in the background threatened to drown out her voice as she continued, “The line began at the citadel's gates—if—if you'll believe that! There's a mass exodus going on and I don't blame those shoving to leave! This place is a slum! Bodies hang from clothes lines—why...oh—oh my—,”

  A blood curdling scream cut the chatter. Silencing everyone. A man called. Cried for mercy.

  “They—they flung a man from the bridge...” silence hung like a thick blanket.

  Tentatively, Ludovic and Marceline exchanged worried glances.

  “I think—I think I'll contact you again when we're closer. I've got to watch the carriage...there are...scavengers about...”

  And the line was cut. The stone darkened.

  Ludovic looked as if he might throw it.

  “It's that damned seneschal! He's always ran the eastern citadel like a slumlord!”

  Marceline had no words. She had spent a majority of her time in the western citadel's chateau. She had never known the state of the east. She thought it was unimportant to learn about the lives of those who lived there. The western citadel was so extravagant and grandiose—she only assumed that the easterners lived the same way as well. Everything about Safrana seemed over the top to her. She almost couldn't believe...

  “Have you been there?” she asked, “Lived there?”

  “No questions.” he snapped, “I'm not—,” he sighed, brought his voice down, “I'm not in the mood.”

  FROST DECORATED THE branches high above her head. Beneath the light of the midday sun, frost melted. Droplets pelted Marceline's head.

  “Marceline...” the lodestone lit up once more. Marceline stood from her spot. Came shoulder to shoulder with Ludovic, “...you've lived in Safrana recently...tell me, have you ever heard of an 'Ironking'? It is all the locals talk about. Seneschal Arthur Roux, the city guard call him.”