Foes and Heirs: Segment Two: The New Life

SEGMENT 2 – THE NEW LIFE

“You will never understand the true meaning of your life, until you travel and experience how others are living theirs.”

5: Flight Of The Origin

“Aaaand… touchdown!” Cheered Azura Wilder as her brother guided the Origin onto the ground, setting the ship down as gently as he could, given that it was his first time piloting the thing. “You did it!”

“Did I?” Her brother looked out of it as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. “What, uh… what time is it?”

“Iamos, it’s, like, past seven!” Azura blurted. “You’ve been flying for ten hours?”

At her words, Iamos exhaled and laughed softly to himself.

“No wonder I feel so tired.” He muttered.

“Yeah, no duh!” Rolling her eyes, Azura leant forward and ruffled her brother’s hair. He groaned in response.

“Don’t do that.”

For her part, Azura simply flashed him a coy smile before turning on her heel and practically skipping away, listening to the clank of her feet on the ship’s metal floor. She had to admit, she was growing to love the sky boat. Something about the hum of the engines and grinding of the mechanics was soothing, and she had found herself falling asleep the previous night faster than she could remember. It didn’t help that she had the unfortunate habit of having bad dreams, so she would often wake up early and have to wait for her brother to come and calm her down. Though, that seemed to have not happened this time. Which was good, because her brother had been busy driving the ship and he wouldn’t have had the time to stay with her – which was fine. She understood.

“We’d all be dead if big brother had stopped flying during the night.” Azura mentally reminded herself as she walked happily up the rusting set of stairs that led to the largest room, at the top of the ship. It was something like ten meters by ten meters wide, and there was a big round table in the middle of it, made of wood and with some chairs beside it. A perfect meeting place.

Already sat around it were Loden and Daiyu, who looked pretty tired themselves (though not as tired as her brother), as they had spent a portion of time scouring the ship to see how big it was and how many rooms there were.

“We landed?” Loden asked, as Azura wandered into the room.

“We landed.” Confirmed Azura. Loden clapped his hands, making Daiyu jump.

“Great.” He declared. “Now we can discuss what happens next.”

“Why do we need to discuss?” Whined Azura as she plonked herself down on a chair. “Why can’t we just go… wherever we want to go?”

“We have to decide where that is first.” Loden told her, to which she frowned and folded her arms. Sure, she guessed it made sense, but she didn’t like how everyone had to meet and talk about it.

“Couldn’t we just put some places in a hat?” She protested.

“Do you have a hat?” Asked Loden back.

Azura’s face fell. “No, I forgot mine.”

“Well we can’t very well put place names in a hat if we don’t have a hat.” Loden informed her, like she didn’t already know. “Look, we need to focus on this.”

He pulled a battered bit of paper out of his pocket.

“What… what is that?” Daiyu asked, saying something for the first time since Azura had entered the room.

“It’s a map.” Loden told her, as he unrolled it and began to peer at it again. “It looks like it encompasses the entire continent.”

“Let me see!” Azura sprang forward to have a look for herself. When she saw, she glared in disappointment. “It doesn’t look special.”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m not an expert.” Loden shrugged. “Iamos seemed to think it was-”

“Rainer.” Iamos interrupted, entering the room. Azura considered flinging herself at her brother but stopped herself when she saw how tired he looked – honestly, he seemed to be about to fall over even without her help – so she settled for waving vigorously.

“Master was the one who emphasised its importance.” He continued, plodding forward before collapsing into a chair. “I don’t… know why. But I… I trust him.”

“Yeah, could we have some background info?” Loden pressed his friend. “I mean, why was our house on fire?”

“I don’t know.” Confessed Iamos. “I mean… there was a man. Another alchemist. And he… he fought Master, they duelled with alchemy. And Master told me to get the map, and get the Origin-”

“The what?” Azura spoke up. “What’s an Origin?”

“That’s the name of the ship, Azura.” Explained Iamos.

“What kind of name is “Origin”? Or “The Origin”, or whatever it’s called? We need a proper name for our ship.”

“And what do you have in mind, o authority on naming flying ships?” Loden asked her.

“Uh…” Azura was forced to ponder the question. ““Big Metal Floaty Thingy-Thing”?”

“Yeah, we’re sticking with the Origin.” Declared Iamos, sinking back in his chair and letting breath slip through his lips. “Look, feel free to make a plan without me. I’m going to go to sleep, because I feel like I could slumber in this bony wooden chair if I tried, so just tell me what you have in mind when I wake up.” Having said his piece, he rose onto shaky legs and plodded down the stairs.

“See you later bro!” Azura called after him. He raised a hand in acknowledgement before vanishing.

“So…” Loden said once Azura’s brother had vanished. “Where even are we going, anyway?”

“We need to sort out a list of priorities!” Azura stated. “What do we need?”

“I didn’t find any food on board.” Contributed Daiyu. “We’ll need some.”

“Got it!” Chirped Azura. “What else?”

“We have no idea what these engines run on, do we?” Loden thought, an unusually pensive expression on his face as he spoke. “Someone needs to look into that.”

“I can do that!” Azura volunteered, remembering the nice noises of the engine. “AND I can check and see if they’re broken or not!”

“Uh… okay, Azura.” Loden nodded, letting her see his smile. “So we’ll need food, and we might need fuel. Where’s the nearest place we could get some?”

“Can I see the map?” Asked Daiyu. “I know the country pretty well.”

“Right, of course, ‘cus of your…” Loden trailed off as he gave the scrap of paper over to Daiyu, who peered at it before nodding in a confirming sort of manner.

“Yes, I… look.” She turned the map around and pointed at a dot on it. “This is the nearest city that I remember.”

““Phek-kai”.” Recited Loden. “What’s that city like?”

“Actually, that’s the capital of our Empire.” Daiyu revealed. “I think. In any case, it’s, uh… it’s a big city. Supposedly the Emperor and his family live there…”

“Well, that looks like a good place to head. How long d’you think it’ll take using this ship?”

“Well, i-it would help if we knew exactly where… where we are.”

“I could always go for a bit of a wander?” Loden suggested.

“I… okay. You’ll need to look for a sign or something.” Daiyu advised him. “All we need is our location, so once you find something, come back.”

“As you wish, ma’am.” Loden shot her a grin and a mock salute, before sauntering down the stairs. Daiyu then turned to Azura.

“Do, um… do you want to go down… to… to the engines?”

“You got it!” Azura declared, almost tripping over her own feet in her hurry to descend to the engine room.

Her feet were once again echoing through the ship’s corridors, and once again Azura slowed down to appreciate the sound. It wasn’t like he had walked on pure metal before, after all. Heck, being surrounded by so much was a new experience in itself. If this was her new life, she was okay with it and then some.

The engines themselves, she remembered as she found the engine room, looked like giant eggs from the outside. But inside was a mess of wiring and cogs and so many other cool mechanical things. Azura peered into the dimly lit room. There were a few gauges on the sides of different machines, so she looked for the one marked fuel (as anyone else would logically do when looking for a way to check how much fuel the engines had). Eventually, she saw one marked “fuel levels”. Luckily, the indicator thingy was still in the green section of the colour-coded ticker – so unless whoever built the engines was colour blind, they still had plenty of fuel left.

“Good.” She said out loud. Without fuel, they wouldn’t be able to get anywhere, and that would be a disaster. A travesty. An utter catastrophe, even. She wanted, some might even say desperately, to go somewhere.

**********

A significant amount of time had passed before Loden had returned. Azura herself couldn’t possibly say how long, because she had spent the whole time examining the engines, but it was long enough that when she heard Loden’s voice and tried to stand up, her leg cramped and she had to give it a bit of a hasty massage before rising and hobbling after him.

She saw him in the corridor, and called after him. “Loden!”

He turned around where he stood. “Oh, Azura!”

“So where are we?”

“We’re outside a village called “Zutaros”.”

“I… have… absolutely no idea where that is.”

“Well, with any luck, Daiyu will. Or at least, it’ll be on the map.”

“Goodie!”

With no more words required, the two hurried up to the meeting room, where they saw Daiyu asleep and leaning across the chair.

“Daiyu!” Azura bellowed as she entered, causing the ravenette jerk awake with a shriek. Whoops. She had never been one for gradual awakenings.

“I-I-I – what – where?!” Daiyu sputtered before seemingly regaining her senses.

“The nearest village is called Zutaros. Is that on the map?” Loden asked her.

“L-let me check.” Daiyu’s hands shook as she brought the map closer to her face. “Y-yeah, it’s o-on here.”

“How far away is it from Phek-kai?” He pressed.

“Not too far, by the look of it.” Daiyu informed him. “Maybe another few hours? I… I guess it depends how fast the ship is.”

“Let’s hope it’s nothing longer.” Azura looked down at her stomach as it growled a rather unpleasant growl. “My stomach’s beginning to realise that breakfast hasn’t arrived yet.”

“It might be longer, Az. Iamos needs to sleep, remember?” Loden pointed out.

“Shoot, you’re right.” Said Azura. “Can I wake him up?”

There was a brief silence. Eventually, Daiyu turned to Loden.

“H-how long has it been?”

“At least a couple ‘a hours.”

“And how much sleep can… can Iamos function on?”

“He’s a deep sleeper, and he doesn’t get much. If we wake him now, he’ll be cranky, but he should still function until we get to Phek-kai.”

“Then I’ll go wake him!” Volunteered Azura, thundering down the stairs before either of the others could stop her. “Big brother! Big brother! We need you!”

There was no reply. Azura, on her quest to find her brother, began to poke her head through every door she came across, calling his name each time she did so. She had gone through almost every door of the ship before automatically sticking her head through the cockpit door and seeing Iamos curled up on the three seats, which he had dragged into a line for him to lie on.

“Big brother!” She cooed, marching forwards and leaning over him. “We need you to fly us to Phek-kai!”

“To where?” He groaned, turning over so his face was pressed against the back of a seat.

“To a city!” She emphasised. “We can only get there by flying!”

“Okay, can I just…” He groaned and shifted himself into a sitting position. “Right. Flying… ok, I’m going to need someone to be here with me.”

Azura raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Two reasons.” Her brother held up two fingers, scratching as his few-days old beard as he did so. “So that they can guide me, because I have literally no idea where fleck kai or whatever is. And so that they can stop me from falling asleep in the chair. Because this chair is comfy.”

“Fair enough.” Azura conceded. “I’ll get Daiyu, is that ok?”

“Fine.” He waved her off. “She’ll be quiet, at least.”

“Good luck, bro!” She called over her shoulder as she headed back to the meeting room for a third time. Poking her head above the floor of the higher room, her eyes met Daiyu’s lilac irises for a brief moment before the other girl looked away.

“Iamos needs you to show him where to go and keep him awake.” She explained.

“I… uh… okay.” Daiyu nodded, and Azura hopped up the last few steps before motioning to her, who in turn travelled down them on her way to the cockpit. Once the sound of her footsteps stopped, she turned to Loden, who was looking at her with an inquisitive grin on his face.

“What do you think?” He asked. It was Azura’s turn to smile.

“Oh my gosh they’re, like, perfect together.”

“Think so?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, well don’t try and interfere. Most of the time this stuff doesn’t work out because of… uh… external interference.”

“Ok.”

“And you have to not be sad if it doesn’t happen, because sometimes…” Loden’s smile faded away. “Sometimes these things just don’t work out, you know?”

“I know.” Azura nodded, trying to act as sagely as her brother but probably failing because she was still grinning like a maniac. When Loden’s smile returned, it looked more tired than she remembered it.

“Now,” he said with what struck her as forced enthusiasm, “let’s get to Fekky!”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Yep.”

“Fine by me.”

**********

The hours passed slowly.

Azura passed her time by either gossiping with Loden, meandering around the ship (and getting to know where everything was because she wasn’t really good with directions) and lying in the engine room, listening to the hum – no, it was more like a purr, like there was a big cat beside her – of the engines. She had decided that it was her new favourite sound. Something about it was just so…. soothing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was like how her brother liked the smell of old books, but didn’t really know why. It was just one of those things, she supposed.

She had found a nice space to lie, just underneath a jutting metal box with a bunch of wires sticking out of it. It was about as high as a table, so there was enough room for her to turn over and stuff. A couple of cables draped over her as she lay, which was a bit annoying and probably unsafe, but aside from that it was really nice, with the heat emitted by the machinery stopping her from getting cold and fan she had positioned her face under stopping too much dust from getting up her nose.

A way she had found to not die of boredom was to look at all of the different symbols and diagrams decorating the various metallic components of the engines, and try to figure out what each one stood for. Some were obvious, like a symbol that looked like a flame was probably a warning against fire. But some, like that one that looked like a circle with a line through it, were more difficult. No ball games? Not to be left out in the sun? Ah well.

It was after not only her leg but her entire body began to cramp up that Azura decided to cut her losses and emerge from her shelter, brushing grime from her long hair as she stood up and began to tramp back up to the meeting room, where Loden was sat.

“I’M BORED!” She announced as she entered the room, before taking a seat opposite him and peering in his general direction. “Entertain me.”

“There is literally nothing to do on this ship.” Complained Loden, in response. “There’s nothing I can really help you with there, short stack.”

“This is serious business, Loden.” Azura complained right back. “What’s the point of going on awesome magical adventures if we’re just gonna be bored the whole frikin’ time?”

“Heck if I know.” Shrugged Loden. “I don’t even know why Iamos wants to go through with this anyway.”

“Good point.” Mused Azura. “Why couldn’t we just stay in the village until whatever was happening there had stopped. What even was happening, anyway?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Loden leaned back in his chair. “Someone attacked Rainer and burned the house down.”

“Yeah, I know that.” Azura found herself shuddering. She hoped Rainer was alright. “But I want to know WHY. Like, just why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Said Loden. “But whatever. Maybe after Iamos rests we can convince him to take us ba-”

“Don’t even finish that!” Growled Azura. “Don’t you even want to go anywhere!?”

“Not really. I kinda just want to head back once we’ve made our Phek-kai pit stop.”

“You haven’t even considered that something important slash awesome might be happening?”

“Of course I’ve considered it.” Snapped Loden. “Our frikkin’ house burned down! But, I… I dunno. I guess I just thought we could sort it out within a couple of days, or something.” He glowered at the table below him. “I didn’t sign on for anything longer than that.”

“Well, feel free to get off when we reach Pekky!” Azura told him.

“No way in anything.”

“Well I- wait, what?” Azura found herself understandably surprised at Loden’s statement. It was a bit of a contradiction, to say the least. “I thought you…?”

“I may not like what’s going on, but I’m not abandoning Iamos for anything.” He said.

“I… uh… ok.” Azura nodded, ever so slightly dazed, before heading back down the stairs where she tried to process Loden’s actions, which really were quite inconsistent. As her brother would have said…

“This requires ponderage.” Azura stated out load, before stalking back to the engine room. For another lie down.

However, before she could get there, she felt the ship lurch again.

And it didn’t righten itself.

Worried, she ran to the cockpit, where she saw Iamos and Daiyu staring as the ground rushed towards them.

“What are you two doing?” She almost shrieked. “Are we crashing? Why are we crashing?!”

“Relax!” Ordered Iamos, irritation evident in his sleep-deprived voice. “It’s called a landing, Azura. Just let me…”

He tugged on the wheel, and the ship stabilised with a jolt, hovering just above the ground.

“Daiyu!” He said. “Button!”

Nodding, Daiyu pressed a button to her left. Azura heard a faint sliding noise, and Iamos brought the ship down onto the ground with a final tiny jolt.

“Well, we’re here.” He showcased with a wave of his hand towards the glass. “Phek-kai.”

Peering through, Azura saw buildings higher than she had ever seen in her life. Below the hill they had landed on stretched out a sprawling landscape of houses and roads, slums and palaces. She made to ask her brother more, but saw with little surprise that she had already fallen asleep in his chair, the bags under his eyes more prominent than she had ever seen them. Sighing, she ruffled his hair once again.

“Thanks, bro.” She muttered.

6:

The city of Phek-kai was awesome until the fight.

Loden had initially been reluctant to venture outside the walls of the Origin, still not willing to accept the idea of a long-term trip, until Azura (with the help of a wrench she had found in the engine room) convinced him to at least take the opportunity to visit the capital of his country while he had the chance. And that was why, roughly thirty-six hours after the Origin had first taken off, he found himself side by side with Iamos, scouring the capital for supplies.

“What can we afford?” Loden inquired, leading Iamos along the bustling road they had found themselves on. They were exploring a section of the city that seemed to consist entirely of stalls selling things. There were mementos, there were weapons, there was stuff Loden was pretty sure was illegal. Iamos had stopped for longer than he would have liked to peer at a bunch of dusty old tomes, and he himself had almost been distracted on more than one occasion by some particularly fancy weapons he had seen for sale for what seemed like an amazing deal.

But the only thing they were looking for was food. It was the only thing they needed, Loden kept reminding himself. More to the point, it was the only thing they could afford. They had left their village in a hurry, only taking what was on them at the time, and as a result really had nothing packed for any quest, epic or otherwise. There hadn’t been any supplies aside from a small amount of fuel on board the ship, and even now the nagging question of what they were going to do once the money ran out ate at Loden as he walked.

“Assuming nobody gets greedy, enough to last us a couple of days.” Responded Iamos, rummaging through the small cloth pouch containing their pooled finances. “And then… I don’t know. Maybe you’ll have to get a job.”

“No way.” Said Loden firmly. “Uh-uh. Nope. Zip. Nay. Why can’t someone else do that?”

“Azura’s too young, and I’m… well, I’m me.” Iamos admitted. “I guess Daiyu could, but you struck me as more able.”

“Flattered, old friend, but I’d rather not.” Loden sighed. “Truth of the matter is I’m not a fan of, I guess, work. I like a good fight, sure. Hence the guard training, and all that. But manual labour wouldn’t be something I’d enjoy, and I’m not really cut out for anything that isn’t physical..”

“There, there.” Iamos awkwardly patted his friend on the back. “I’m sure we’ll find a job that takes your fancy.”

“Have you even been listening?!”

Loden was so embroiled in conversation, he didn’t initially notice the silence around them. After a few moments, however, his ears picked up the difference in noise level, and he nudged Iamos mid-sentence. “Hey, ssh.”

All around them, the people had stopped whatever they might have been doing and had split up, emptying the center of the path to make room for a group of figures on horses, who were riding down the weather-beaten track. Even as Loden watched, the parted citizens knelt down, bowing their torsos as the procession passed them by.

“Get down.” He hissed to Iamos, before sinking to his knees and bowing his head. He had heard stories about life in the bigger cities, told to him by his friends, about how you would be killed if you didn’t show proper respect for someone above you. Though at the time the tales had been kind of laughable, Loden took his personal safety quite seriously, and didn’t fancy testing anything for himself. The clacking sound of horseshoe on weathered stone grew nearer and nearer, until it suddenly and ominously stopped.

“You!” A voice thundered in Loden’s direction. “Why are you not kneeling?”

Instantly Loden knew what was happening, and screamed internally as Iamos asked “Why do I have to?” with all the passion of someone who had just been told the most boring thing ever.

He was met with dead silence – scratch that, he was met with the grinding of metal. Someone nearby was unsheathing a weapon.

Loden inwardly cursed as Iamos continued to speak. That dense fool had never liked doing anything without a good reason, and had no idea how disrespectful he was being.

“Why do I even have to kneel?” His best friend demanded. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Still no reply.

“I mean,” continued Iamos, woefully ignorant of the danger he was now in, “I can tell that you’re important, or at least under the impression you are, because most of these people do what you say. And I get why they should move, because being trampled by a horse is an unpleasant experience, I am sure. I have no problem with the concept of moving as you pass. But I don’t understand why everyone has to physically kneel-”

“Okay, Iamos, that’s enough.” Loden mentally berated himself as he too stood up and placed a hand on Iamos’ shoulder. “You can’t just say stuff like that to people.”

“But-”

“No, I’ll explain later. Right now, you’re…” He trailed off upon noticing the speaker beginning to approach them. A tall man clad in full body armour dismounted their horse, having previously been leading a procession of what had to be at least twenty other men, all similarly armed – and a couple of whom were holding weapons. The leader purposefully strode towards the duo, eyes filled with rage. “And here we go. Look.” He held his hands up in a placating gesture, raising his voice. “I’m sorry about my friend. He can be a bit tactless, but we’re not looking for trouble…”

For a moment, the horseman stood still, eyeing Iamos and Loden, the latter of whom dared to hope that perhaps peace was still an option.

The attack was almost too quick for Loden to process.

In one fluid movement, the horseman stabbed out with his sword arm and, had Loden not hastily shoved his friend to the side, would have impaled Iamos through the chest. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as Loden could almost feel the adrenaline begin to course through his body.

“An insult to me is an insult to the Cheinise Emperor.” Spat the horseman, speaking for the first time. “Now accept your punishment!”

Loden was hardly aware of his own actions as he cupped his fists together and brought them round, slamming them against the man’s head. There was a clang and the horseman reeled, clutching his helmet as it vibrated from the blow. Loden, however, gave him no time to recover, lashing out with his right arm and catching the horseman in the stomach. The horseman, for his part, seemed to be unfazed by the second attack and rose, forcing Loden to duck as the sword flew centimetres away from his head.

“Alright, fine.” Loden twisted his body before the blade could come back around and tackled the horseman from the side, knocking him to the ground. There was a rattle of metal on gravel as the blade slid across the pathway. Loden would have celebrated a successful attack, but the punch he received to the chest stopped him from feeling too chipper about the situation.

Coughing, he stumbled backwards and massaged his chest, as the horseman rose and crouched low, before bounding forward towards him. Loden twisted his torso to the side, so that only one of the horseman’s outstretched arms proceeded to catch him instead of two. With less of a force to work against, he was able to wretch himself free from his assailant’s grip, and continued his spin as he moved his legs around to kick the horseman in the back, sending the armoured man sprawling to the ground in what Iamos would have described as “a most ungainly fashion”.

Before he could strike again, however, he felt the point of a metal blade prick at the back of his neck. Freezing in position, he reluctantly raised his hands; he wasn’t suicidal.

However, the feeling vanished as soon as it had appeared, and at the same time Loden heard a rather loud crashing noise. Craning his neck, he saw not another soldier, but rather a large hunk of earth directly behind him. Beyond that stood Iamos, sending the comatose soldier an Iamos-type icy stare.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

The streets had already been silent as the fight had actually been happening, but now Loden could hear the silence. He could actually feel it crawling down his back in a really creepy way. Whilst eighty percent or so of him was freaking out about attacking – and being attacked by – a royal guard, out on patrol, the remainder of him was wondering why nobody else was doing anything.

“Alchemist.” A voice broke the silence. Loden caught sight of the lead soldier rising from the ground, clearly doing his best to not lose any more face after getting his butt kicked by a teenager.

“I am one, though I’d prefer it if you didn’t define me as such.” Iamos haughtily replied, folding his arms as if daring anybody else to challenge him. The horseman ignored his friend’s speech and extended an arm, indicating the remainder of the men, still on horses with drawn swords.

“Come with us.” He continued, before doing something most peculiar. He bowed his head, in a sign of… respect? Not the biggest honour to bestow on someone, but still pretty weird considering the circumstances. “Our master would like to meet you, I’m sure.”

“You mas…” Loden’s speech, thoughts out loud, trailed off as he realised who was being talked about. “Wait, the Cheinise Emperor? As in, like, the Emperor of this country?” He turned his head back and forth between Iamos and the lead horseman. “Really?”

“Yes.” The horseman confirmed, neck still bent down.

Loden wasted no time in sidling up to Iamos, who was wearing a typical thinking face. “Hey, check this out! People are being nice to you! I mean, that doesn’t mean you should trust them, but still!”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Responded Iamos, indicating with a finger. “Can’t you see? He’s shaking. I don’t believe he’s doing this of his own free will, but rather because he is under orders.”

The horseman neither confirmed nor denied Iamos’ words.

“Uh…” Loden wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. “You think so?”

“If there’s one thing I can recognise, it’s hostility.” Iamos confirmed. “Still, I’m intrigued. What would an Emperor want with the likes of me?”

“Huh? Iamos, you can’t be serious.” Loden scolded. “These guys just attacked us!”

“Well, you don’t have to come it you don’t want to.” Deadpanned Iamos. “But I’m meeting the Emperor. If only because I’ll probably be taken by force if I don’t agree to go. Besides…” Here he turned to Loden, who was shocked to see a wiry grin on his friend’s face. “It’s not something that happens every day, now is it?”

“You’re damn right, it isn’t.” Agreed Loden, before sighing. “Well, I always said you should try something new every once in a while, but this is pushing it.”

“I believe the phrase is “go big or go home”.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Do you want to end up in another fight?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Iamos approached the lead soldier and bowed in return.

“I accept your master’s invitation.” He recited, voice clear as he spoke. “We will meet with the Emperor.”

**********

The journey to the palace was silent. Loden and Iamos each found themselves hauled roughly onto a horse behind a rider, and as the convoy made an about turn and headed back to the palace, each could only wonder what was in for them once they reached their destination. Loden, personally, was quite concerned as to what an emperor may want with Iamos – an alchemist, to be specific.

During the ride, he wracked his brains, trying to think of an answer to his own question. Was it to do with prejudice? Had an order been given to round up all alchemists? But then, why would the Emperor want to see Iamos in person? Surely, if he were rounding up all alchemists, Iamos would be taken straight to a prison. It didn’t make sense. And, of course, Iamos had never actually met the Emperor. It couldn’t have been anything personal… could it? No, it couldn’t have. The horseman had addressed him as “alchemist”…

Loden was so lost in thought that he neglected the sights of the city until hearing the sound of a gate opening, and focused his attention back on his whereabouts.

They were outside the royal palace.

The gates, mighty steel bars interlocked with one another, were swinging open to allow access to an enormous grey building, layered with spires and topped with a great crimson flag that looked less like a flag and more like a door that swung back and forth as the wind enveloped it. The next highest points were the highest spires, branching out from the tops of towers and ending with golden points. From there, the metalwork spiralled down into stone, forming winding and skewwhiff patterns reminiscent of vines as iron and bronze met… whatever type of stone the palace was even made of. Heck if Loden knew, it wasn’t like stonemasonry was his thing.

The clatter of hooves on rock echoed throughout the courtyard as the procession advanced, the lifelessness of the environment putting Loden on edge. He was pretty sure that a palace was supposed to have a load of people in and around it, but he wasn’t seeing anyone except his friend and some grumpy soldiers. He anxiously tapped his fingers against his leg as the horses came to the stop, the guards dismounting and dispersing, leaving behind their leader and a couple of others.

“We shall escort you to the emperor.” The head guard declared, before turning on his heel and marching off before either Loden or Iamos could say anything. A light blow to Loden’s back propelled him into a walk, and he watched as Iamos shrugged off an attempt at physical contact by one of the soldiers and strode forward, head held high despite the uncertain circumstances. Loden chuckled as he followed, flanked by an armoured escort.

The small procession pushed open a door and began to meander down corridor after corridor, the rooms and spaces gradually become more and more extravagant. Incense and scented candles slowly burned, the aroma circling around Loden’s head and making him feel sleepy. Crimson and gold décor was practically everywhere, with carpets lining every floor and the sprawling, rich patterns painted onto the walls were obscured by furniture and weaponry.

Attached to one wall was a tapestry that extended for a good twenty meters, with crude figures enacting what Loden could only guess were historical scenes, and text narrating the happenings below the images. Peering closer, Loden could see vaguely familiar phrases such as “Qiang Huangd”, “city of Rabus”, “Britay” and “Aquila”, but he paid them little mind, not considering his history knowledge to be very detailed. The tapestry looked really pretty, though. He’d admit that.

The weapons, though! He was so enthralled, he stopped walking once or twice, and it took another prod to get him going again. But who could blame him? There were meteor hammers, butterfly swords, and… maybe even wind-and-fire wheels? It was awesome, and he had to admit, he liked the idea that the Emperor was as into weapons as he was. Common ground was always a good place to start when getting to know someone.

It was as he was letting his gaze meander that he saw someone in front of them, standing stock-still as the group moved passed. And that someone – oh.

Was really pretty.

Like, dang.

A collection of snow-coloured garments hung from her curved figure, forming an outfit that resembled a dress, he guessed, but the way she wore it just made it seem so much more refined and beautiful than any old dress. The cloth folds rippled like water plummeting from the top of a waterfall as she shifted to the side to let them pass, cascading around her form.

The girl’s hair was the colour of the blackest midnight, a striking contrast to her porcelain skin. One of her thin eyes, the left, was a brilliant, almost glowing silver, as if her pupil had been replaced with a star plucked from the night sky. The opposite eye was slightly darker, closer to slate grey, but no less captivating. Both looked almost inhumane, with the skin around them too clear and the eyelashes too long and full to be entirely real, but the idea didn’t really take away from her beauty.

Loden’s cheeks grew warm, and he realised that he was blushing.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to let that shame him. He made sure to catch the girl’s eye as he walked past, letting the corners of his mouth curl upwards in a grin before quickly winking as he was carted away. For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn he had seen a ghost of a smile on the girl’s lips before he, or she, or both of them, turned their heads away. The corridor took a sharp turn, and the encounter was over within moments of its beginning.

**********

The great elm doors towered far above the heads of the assembled figures, metal bolts half the size of a fist hammered into the thick planks and hinges that creaked as the structures swung open into a room so large, Loden reckoned he had seen whole houses that wouldn’t have been able to fit inside.

The most noticeable thing about the room was how plain it was. Well, perhaps plain was too strong a word. It was still pretty impressive to look at, with intricately carved and painted designs creeping across the walls, and a balcony on an upper level leading off from doorways placed up the walls, providing onlookers with a view of the whole place. But compared to the other rooms Loden had been able to catch glimpses of, there was very little colour – aside from minute details on the decorations. There was none of the slew of crimson and golden he had observed earlier, and no sign of weapons or books or anything that could be considered interesting.

Instead, there was a single rectangular table that stretched across the floor of the great room, covered in designs and what looked like small pieces of stone. As he was led closer, Loden realised that the decorations on the dark table were actually quite reminiscent of a map, with what looked like the borders of territories drawn onto the smooth stone. The pieces, now that he was closer to them, had different sizes and areas, and there was a different symbol drawn onto each one.

He was shoved out of his observant state by the sight of a gnarled hand shifting several of the pieces across the surface. Looking up, he observed for the first time the trio of men that sat by the table. The man who had moved the pieces sat on the left, glowering at the board. A steel chestplate hung from his lanky frame, and dull white robes were visible underneath, swaying slightly as he moved his arms to adjust stone positions. His face was as lean as his frame, cheeks defined and chin triangular, and sunken into is face were a pair of stone grey eyes that glinted with intensity as he stroked the thin beard on his jawline. All in all, he had a “rugged warrior” look about him that was quite come-hither, and once again Loden found himself a little flustered.

On the other side sat a figure who was almost completely unidentifiable. A mask covered the majority of their face, and the only features Loden could pick out were black hair and brown eyes. He was staring just as intently at the board as the man on the left, focusing intently on what Loden was realising must have been some kind of map.

In the middle of the three sat a portlier man, brown eyes squinting at the pieces on the board. Crimson robes hung off him, scattered with gaudy golden highlights, and a black undershirt was visible beneath the cloak he was draped in. He too had a beard, longer and more well-groomed than his fellow’s, and his beady black eyes were focused on the demonstrations of the armoured man. The three together were an odd group, and Loden couldn’t help but wonder what their purposes were in the emperor’s palace.

“Your highness!” Barked the head guard, for the trio had ignored their entry. Three heads turned upwards to stare at the group.

Loden blanched. One of them was the emperor? None of them looked much like an emperor to him – though, to be fair, he had never met one before. Maybe nobody really knew what an Emperor looked like.

“I have brought before you an alchemist!” The horseman continued, indicating Iamos, flanked by two guards, who surveyed the room and deliberately avoided eye contact with anybody, instead wearing a slightly bored facial expression and acting natural. Loden, however, could tell that his friend was on edge – the arms folded over the chest were a sign of defensiveness, and if he strained his ears, he could hear Iamos breathing heavier than normal.

He was scared.

“Well, which one’s the alchemist?” The man in the middle, who Loden assumed was the emperor, spoke. His thick brows furrowed as they focused on both boys. “You’ve brought two of them, officer.”

The officer opened his mouth, most likely to gripe about how he hadn’t wanted to. Loden decided it might be better heard from a less peeved mouth.

“That would be my fault, sir.” He spoke loudly and clearly, trying to ignore his friend’s nervousness and the fact that his legs were shaking. “My buddy and I are from out of town, and when he received his summons – well, one for all and all for one, and all that. I’d prefer it if he didn’t have to come here on his own.”

“Calm your nerves, boy.” The grey-eyed man spoke now, mouth curling upwards into a wry smile. “There’s no shame in supporting a friend.”

“I…” Loden bowed his head. “Thank you.”

The middle man waved a pudgy hand.

“Guards, leave us.” He droned, sounding somewhat bored with the whole affair. Bowing, the guards turned on their heels and marched out of the room. The great doors slammed shut behind them, leaving Loden and Iamos alone in the room. There was an unsung question on Loden’s lips, but he decided to trust the emperor’s judgement.

“Why would you order your guards to leave? What if we weren’t to be trusted?”

Shame Iamos didn’t have the same sort of hesitation.

To Loden’s surprise, the Emperor didn’t react with outrage or surprise – instead, he began to laugh. Iamos glanced at Loden on confusion as the portly man chuckled, eventually settling down as the men on either side of him seemed to grin at one another.

“Well, I daresay you might have underestimated the level of security still present.” He finally declared. “Fear not, if the two of you are truly a threat to me, you won’t leave this palace alive.”

“Well, that’s not exactly encouraging.” Voiced Loden. The Emperor nodded.

“Quite. That is why I hope, for your sakes, that you aren’t here to kill me.”

“For our sakes. How considerate.” Loden folded his arms. “What do you want with Iamos, anyway?”

“That’s something I suggest we and him discuss in private.” The grey-eyed man declared, gaze shifting from Loden to Iamos and back. The Emperor stroked his straggly beard as the trio all eventually fixed their gazes onto Loden’s brunette friend. Iamos, on his part, met each of their gazes in turn. His fingertips clenched the sleeves of his shirt even tighter as he stood his ground in the face of the intimidation.

“No way.” Loden voiced his thoughts before he could second-guess himself. “I’m not leaving him.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a matter of choice.” The Emperor declared, as the grey-eyed man signalled to the third of their party, who obediently rose to his full towering height before purposefully striding towards Loden. A scarred hand latched itself onto Loden’s arm, and he found himself being dragged towards the doorway.

“Okay, fine, you make a valid argument.” Loden struggled to keep his voice even as the distance between him and Iamos increased. “Can’t I just… actually, never mind. Hey, Iamos?” He held a shaking hand in the air, clenching his fist and extending the thumb skywards. “Don’t take this literally, but, uh, knock ‘em dead.”

7:

“Quite the friend you have there.”

The first words to be spoken after the slamming shut of the brass-tipped, looming doors was by the man formerly in the center of the trio sitting at the table. Iamos turned back to him, trying to focus on the man’s face out of courtesy and getting consistently distracted by his surroundings, particularly the odd simulation that seemed to have been set up on the table in front of them. Three-dimensional lines of battle, with mobile pieces to represent the movement of troops. Very efficient for a ruler.

“I’m lucky to have him.” Iamos found himself saying, his mouth acting instinctually as his brain found interest in other aspects of his environment. “I suppose you’re lucky too sir, having people willing to lay down their lives for you.” He turned to look at the second man, in the armour. “Or does that just come with the job?”

The second man raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly. “You knew I was the Emperor?”

“Was I not supposed to?” This was certainly news to Iamos. If he had to guess, he would say that he had surprised them in some way. But why were they shocked at his having guessed right? Surely most people would have known that the man to the side was… ah.

He remembered now.

A hazy memory resurfaced within his psyche of Loden talking to him about social conventions. Conversations he typically tried to pay attention to, but dreaded due to the difficulty he had comprehending them. He would always ask “why”, and thoroughly annoy his friend with his lack of ability to “get a clue”, as Loden phrased it one time.

In any case, the memory revolved around seating conventions – because, for some reason, those in charge of society had deemed even the act of sitting down to be a formality. As he understood it, those with most power sat in the center, as a symbol of their strength and responsibility. Yet the Emperor saw fit to seat himself to the side of another man?

“Preferably not.” The Emperor admitted, cutting through Iamos’ train of thought with his gravelly voice. “As you might have guessed, it’s a ruse to throw potential assailants off the scent.” He exhaled quickly, and placed his hand on his knee. “I suppose you saw through the whole thing?”

“Actually, I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to social convention.” Admitted Iamos. “I had forgotten that the person of influence sits in the middle, so that wasn’t where I was looking to being with. And you looked… I don’t know, imposing? You were the one moving the pieces, and I just made an assumption.” Not knowing what else to do, he bowed and clasped his arms to the side of him, the steel pendant around his neck suspended in mid-air below his chest. “My apologies.”

The Emperor chuckled. “When considering the possibilities, introversion was an oversight on my behalf. Think nothing of it.” Standing up, the lean man leaned over the table and offered his hand to Iamos. “Good to meet you, alchemist. Or would you prefer “Iamos”?”

“Either is fine with you, your highness.” Rising himself, Iamos accepted the handshake.

“Iamos it is then. And please, don’t be too concerned – or proud – of seeing through that particular deception. You can be sure I have many more tricks up my sleeve.”

“As to be expected of the leader of a country.” Shrugged Iamos, before pulling a chair out from under the table and sitting down, folding one leg over the other. If the Emperor was perturbed by his actions, he didn’t show it and took a seat himself.

“So, what do you want with me?” Iamos continued.

“I was hoping to ask you some questions, relating to your art.” The Emperor explained, the decoy beside him remaining silent as their conversation progressed. “Truth be told, this is the first time I’ve been able to talk to an alchemist, despite putting out an executive order almost half a year ago.”

“Well, we’re not exactly common.” Iamos inhaled and exhaled slowly, controlling his breathing, before raising his head and staring the Emperor dead in the eyes. A most uncomfortable feeling overtook him, as it always did when he made eye contact with someone. It felt as though he was revealing more than he wished to give away, as well as learning more than he wanted to know. It was invasive, and unpleasant. But, for the sake of making a good impression and getting the interaction over with, it had to be endured. “We aren’t liked by a lot of people. Our art is considered unnatural.”

“So I’ve heard.” The Emperor folded his arms. “But sometimes putting aside prejudice is necessary for the greater good.”

A fresh perspective. Iamos had to admit, he hadn’t predicted such a thing. And from the Emperor, of all people? He swallowed, trying to buoy his confidence.

“Well, I, uh… much appreciated.” Stuttered Iamos. “What do you want to know?”

“A great deal.” Declared the Emperor. “How much would you say you know in regards to alchemy being used in combat? What of a Philosopher’s Stone? How about-”

Iamos must have visibly winced from the barrage, as the Emperor silenced himself and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

“Forgive me, I let myself get carried away.” His hawk’s eyes, sharp and harsh like steel, met Iamos’ once again. “This must be a… sensitive subject for you.”

“Some information I would consider private, yes.” Agreed Iamos, glad to be given an excuse for his discomfort.

“Well, if that’s the case, would you feel more comfortable if I answered any questions you might have?” The Emperor spread his arms out, as if preparing for an embrace. “You believe in equivalent exchange, after all. It seems right, does it not?”

“I suppose…” Iamos hesitated, before grasping the opportunity. “We could… take turns?”

The Emperor nodded his approval of the idea, stroking his chin with thin fingers as his brow furrowed, brain seemingly at work and calculating for the new development. This was unsurprising – the Emperor struck even Iamos as a shrewd sort of character.

“Very well. I’ll go first.” He settled into his seat before placing both arms on the table, sliding his fingers together and creating a bridge that he proceeded to rest his head on. His eyes narrowed as he stared Iamos down, and the alchemist felt as though he had suddenly been placed in front of some sort of tribunal. His throat was dry. How long had it been dry? How long until he made a mistake, said the wrong thing? What would happen–

“How easy is it to create a homunculus?” The Emperor’s voice cut through Iamos’ jumbled thoughts like a knife through air. The mental chaos became white noise as the boy was presented with a point of focus. Everything became still. The younger man stiffened. A question. An answer. Doable. But…

“I don’t know.” Iamos admitted, hands trembling as he continued to stare into the other man’s eyes. “I was never told anything about that particular branch of alchemy, and there’s a reason for it.” He drew in a deep breath as the gravity of the question began to hit him. “It’s… I…” He paused. Exhaled. Inhaled. Started again. “A-as far as I’m aware, there’s a lot of taboo surrounding alchemy in general.” Every end of a sentence was a change to catch his breath. “As far as alchemists themselves go, the most sinister part of our art is the transmutation of mental substance. I – should I explain?”

The Emperor nodded.

“Right, o-okay.” Iamos desperately thought back to the lessons he had received on the subject. “So, one of the philosophies alchemy is based in is dualism – that is, that there are two substances the universe is made up of. These are, uh, physical matter and mental substance.”

“Sounds familiar.” Acknowledged the Emperor. “I’m an idealist, myself, but I know that others might believe in dualism and physicalism.”

Iamos nodded. “Well, manipulating physical substance is what we normally do. But, supposedly, we can also manipulate mental substance – that being, what, uh… what our psyches are made up of.” His whole body was trembling by this point, and he furiously dug his fingertips into his thighs. “The trouble is… I like to think that the judgement is… is situational, but the truth is manipulating mental substance is frowned upon. It’s uh… I mean, it’s just… it’s like, the alchemical equivalent of dark magic. There are some things in every art that are regarded as unlawful, because they’re unnatural and…” He trailed off, the words weighing his tongue down as his hypocrisy became more and more apparent. Weren’t those the same reasons why a lot of people disliked alchemy in general?

“Anyway, the point is, the creation of homunculi… it, uh, has something to do with that, and my master never explained any of the details and I’m very sorry!” Iamos bowed his head apologetically, rambling cut to a halt by self-awareness.

Several long, uncomfortable seconds passed by before the Emperor spoke.

“Oh well. I suppose it can’t be helped. At least I learnt something.”

Iamos remained silent, not entirely sure if he was being addressed.

“I believe it’s your turn to ask a question, Iamos.” The Emperor prompted. Iamos gave a small start. A question? Him, a question? What to ask? There wasn’t anything he needed to know, was there? There… there was.

“Yes. My question.” Iamos reached into his trouser pocket and withdrew the map that his master had ordered him to take, the map that his master had insisted would guide him. It’s dirty green cord held the page within a roll, the parchment feeling dreadfully dry and fragile, as if his grip alone could shred it. “Do you know the significance of this map?”

“This map?” The Emperor took the roll from Iamos and pulled off the cord in a single clean move, letting the paper fall open to reveal the map of Militiregneum that had been visible previously.

“My… my master said that it was, uh, important.” Explained Iamos.

“Where did your master get this?” The Emperor did not lift his eyes, and continued to study the map very intently.

“I… I don’t know.” Iamos admitted.

“I see.” The Emperor nodded some more, before lifting his thin head and fixing his gaze back on the boy in front of him. “Well, I have a theory or two.” He cleared his throat. “Map, where am I at this very moment?”

It seemed an inane question to Iamos – an opinion that was, apparently, shared by the map. Even as Iamos watched, the detailed inking of Militiregneum shone with bold red lettering that declared “In your palace – open your damn eyes!”.

“I… uh…” Iamos found himself with nothing to say. The Emperor sagely nodded, as if he hadn’t just been insulted by a scrap of parchment.

“As I suspected.” He turned his head upwards to face Iamos once again. “Young man, it appears you have found yourself in possession of the map of the Grey Wizard.”

“I- who?” Iamos blurted out, only for the emperor to hold his hand out towards Iamos, palm upright.

“One question each.” He reminded the mortified alchemist.

“I…” Iamos breathed in and out once again. “Right. Sorry. Did you want to ask something else?”

“Yes, I did, as a matter of fact.” The Emperor slowly handed the map back to Iamos – though something about the look on the man’s face sent an inexplicable amount of concern through him. “What can you tell me about the use of alchemy in combat?”

“Combat?” Iamos echoed, as he tried to search for a suitable response.

“Yes, combat.” Reaffirmed the Emperor. “You see, this Empire – my Empire – has been at war with the neighbouring Jepuni Empire for some time. You know this already, I presume?”

As a matter of fact, Iamos had. Mostly through Loden, the aspiring guard who knew full well the enemies he might have faced one day. There had been a couple of times wherein Loden had gone as far as to lecture him about the dangers of trusting someone from the Jepuni Empire, but those conversations had never sat right with Iamos. Why would he go out of his way to dislike a people he had never before met?

“Yes.” Iamos nodded. The Emperor nodded too, in acknowledgement.

“Well, as leader of this Empire, it has been, and will continue to be, my duty to find ways to defend my borders. This is why I’m curious as to the offensive and defensive capabilities of alchemy. What can you tell me?”

Now that Iamos’ initial fear was fading, he realised that there was a warm, almost melodic lilt to the Emperor’s voice. It was almost hypnotic, and another shock of adrenaline hit Iamos as he realised that there was, more than likely, some sort of manipulation taking place. Maybe not manipulation… but the man almost seemed TOO open… too trustworthy… as much as comforting a scared child might have fitted the idealised image of a ruler, Iamos figured that it was far more likely for the man to have some ulterior motive.

“Well… I was told that alchemy is like a knife.” He admitted. “It’s, uh… its first and foremost, a tool, but… it can easily be a weapon… I guess that means it… I mean, I’ve used it in fights, so…” He trailed off again. “I don’t think it was created with combat in mind, but as such, I’m sure it would be, uh… would be very useful to fight with.”

The Emperor smiled. “Thank you.”

“Uh…” Iamos faltered. “You’re welcome.”

At this point, their conversation was interrupted. The great doors that Iamos had been escorted through began to groan once again, parting to reveal a girl wearing a white dress-thing. Her lengthy, jet-black hair swayed as she strode purposefully towards the conversing pair, and she struck Iamos – ill-versed as he was – as someone with a large amount of determination.

“Father.” She said, her stern voice echoing through the chamber. “I need to talk with you.”

“Ah, Miyuki!” The Emperor smiled in greeting. “Such good timing. I was hoping that you could show our guest to a room?”

“Room?” Echoed Iamos, attention breaking between the girl and the Emperor, but neither paid him any attention as they continued to talk.

“The war of attrition that you’re waging on our southern border will not hold the Jepuni for much longer.” Miyuki declared. “General Hitoshi confirmed it when I asked. Our forces are weakening. You sacrifice our men, sending them to their slaughter every day, and for what? To prove a point? To spite me?”

“Miyuki.” There was no longer a smile on the Emperor’s face. “If you so insist on contradicting my moves, yet neither explain your full motivations nor approach me with a better solution, then it is abundantly clear that you are still a child, unready for war.”

“But I do have a solution!” She powerwalked round the table, eventually stopping and indicating a finger to a part of the map. “Father, they won’t expect an attack through the fire desert, why not send our troops around there?”

“As soon as they sense any sort of troop movement, they will be on guard, and the combative edge that you imply will be lost.” The Emperor sighed. “For now, it is best to hold the line whilst we try and implement a new strategy.”

“Father, please!” The girl’s expression softened. “This is my country. Can I not even attempt to defend it?”

“You are too young, and inexperienced.” Replied the Emperor, bluntly. “And until this war is over, we can’t risk the necessary educational trips to the outer sectors. What would happen if you were to be kidnapped by Jepuni forces? They could use you as a hostage!”

Miyuki stubbornly folded her arms, muttering something under her breath. Iamos didn’t quite hear them, and her father gave her no indication of having heard, instead turning back to Iamos.

“I am sorry, alchemist, but the duties of an Emperor call. As much as I might wish it, I cannot afford to spend any more time conversing with you.”

Iamos glanced around, but there were no windows for him to tell the time out of. Though he himself was feeling a tad tired – but that could have easily been the effect of piloting the Origin for so long.

“I-I understand.” He managed to say. “You, ah… mentioned a room?”

“Ah, yes.” The Emperor smiled in what Iamos assumed – hoped – was an apologetic fashion. “I’m afraid that there is still more I would like to talk to you about, and would enjoy the opportunity to speak to you another day. I would hope that you find yourself able to spend this coming night here, in the palace?”

“I…” Iamos hesitated, knowing full well that Azura and Daiyu would have no way of knowing what had happened to him and Loden. “I-I’m not sure, sir, I…” He sighed, keeping his head bowed down low.

“Is there anyone you would like me to take a message to?” The Emperor offered. “Family? Parents, perhaps?”

Iamos was on the brink of agreeing, and explaining the situation he had found himself in. But as he was about to speak, some strange feeling kept from revealing anything else. Perhaps it was unease in a new place, or perhaps he was just rattled from being forced into conversing with a stranger for so long. But the truth was, there was something about the Emperor that he did not quite trust, and a gut feeling informing him that it would be a bad idea to reveal, if nothing else, the existence of the Origin – which was a full-blown anomaly in its own right – to the man.

“There’s…” Iamos inhaled. Exhaled. “There’s no-one.”

The lie, and it's forgone consequences, made him feel sick.

“Very well.” The Emperor smiled again. “Miyuki will take you to a guest room. It should be habitable – I do like to be prepared for these situations. Miyuki.” He fixed his gaze on the girl again. “After you’ve done that, find Hizomu. He should be still guarding this boy’s companion. Get the other one somewhere to rest, too. It is clear that he does not intend to leave without his friend.”

“I-” Miyuki looked as though she might have liked to protest further, but paused mid-speech, before bowing. “As you wish, father.” She said in a voice that seemed a lot more disaffected than she had sounded previously, before turning and walking to the door. After a moment of bemusalment, Iamos rose and followed her, not looking back as the great doors closed behind them.

A brief, uncomfortable silence followed.

After a moment or two, Iamos turned to look at the Emperor’s daughter. She appeared to be frozen where she stood, fists clenched and trembling. A low sigh slipped out from between her lips. Suddenly, Iamos felt as though he was intruding on something private, and all but stumbled backwards – the noise of his shoes scuffing against the marble floor finally roused the girl, however, who turned a stern gaze unto him, brows furrowing as she inspected him. For his part, Iamos remained motionless as he felt the pressure of her gaze upon him. The stand-off continued for a few seconds, before she suddenly moved, all but throwing her hands up into the air in exasperation.

“You can tell my father that I’m not marrying you!” She proclaimed.

That… hadn’t been what Iamos had been expecting.

“What?” He blurted out, still trying to make sense of her words.

“My father.” She repeated, rolling her eyes. “He makes a habit of organising regular suitors for me – though…” She fixed him with a gaze unbearably familiar – somewhat disdainful – “normally, they come better dressed.”

Iamos’ eyes flicked down to his jeans and shirt, before rising again. His gaze landed somewhere near the girls’ shoulder, just as it occurred to him that they were several inches apart in height, in his favour. “You do know that it was, uh, no plan of mine to… marry you?”

Her gaze softened slightly. “Was it not?” She folded her arms. “Then what is your business here?”

“I’m an alchemist.” Explained Iamos. “The Emperor requested an… an audience with me.”

At this, the disdain on her face vanished completely. “He finally found one, then?” She scrutinised him again, presumably from a different viewpoint – though Iamos couldn’t consider himself much more comfortable with the attention. “You look very… unassuming.”

“You…. expected something else?”

“From all the rumours I’ve heard, I expected either a mighty warrior, or some sort of heinous criminal. You don’t exactly look like either.” She straightened herself out, before bowing once again. “Well, alchemist, my name is Miyuki, and I am the daughter of the Cheinise Emperor. It is… good to make your acquaintance.”

“…My name is Iamos.” He paused a moment before attempting a bow of his own. Unused to the movement, he felt uncomfortably clunky and gangly. “And the feeling is mutual… princess?”

“Miyuki is fine, thank you.” She insisted as he rose. “Now, let’s go. I know where the guest wings are.”

“Ah. Right. Those…” Iamos tapped his fingers together. “Look, I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t stay. My friends will be worried, and we-”

He haltered as Miyuki turned back towards him, this time with a strange expression on her face – he might have seen it on Loden before, but no-one else.

“I’m sorry, Iamos.” She said, just as Iamos recognized the expression for pity. “But I don’t think you have a choice.”

8: The Emperor’s Daughter

Loden had often thought about spending a great deal of time in someone’s arms. An apparently traditional romantic gesture, how it felt in real life was something that he had yet to determine. However, when had thought about it, he hadn’t imagined it as being restrained by the same person for upwards of fifteen, maybe even twenty minutes. The masked lug that was STILL holding onto him hadn’t even said anything, meaning that Loden’s exterior monologue and questioning was wasted – always a tragedy, as he considered himself a rather witty person. In any case, Loden was glad enough for help when it finally arrived. The fact that it came in the form of the girl he had seen earlier was just one heck of a bonus.

“Hizomu.” She ordered, sternly. “Release him, and leave us.”

Loden felt the death grip on his arms finally relax, and he instantly pulled away, rubbing his upper arms as he did so. The clumping of heavy footsteps told him that the man was now lumbering away.

“You know, as efficient a guard as that guy is, maybe you should let him loosen up a bit.” He recommended, knowing that the guard was not yet out of earshot, but not particularly caring. The girl turned to watch him with an ever-so-slightly quizzical look on her face as he leant backwards and stretched, groaning as he did so. The popping sounds that accompanied his movements made him inwardly wince, but he continued to talk nonetheless. “I had to have used up most of my best jokes, and he didn’t so much as snigger.”

“Sniggering at jokes isn’t part of his job description.” The girl explained, still all but expressionless as she continued to… observe him? Yeah, she was definitely checking him out. (One way or another.)

“It’s rarely part of anyone’s job description.” Pointed out Loden. “The real question is whether his job description is all there is too him.” He subtly began to observe the girl in turn. He had already seen the surface-area details, during their brief encounter on their way to see the Emperor, but it was now time for a keener observation – whilst, of course, holding a conversation at the same time. A bit tricky, but far from impossible. “Does he have some sort of tragic backstory I should be aware of?”

“No.” The girl replied, though Loden couldn’t help but wonder which part of his question she was answering. He waited for a little while, eying her closely. Whoever she was, she wasn’t a servant. Her clothes were too expensive, and she carried herself too confidently. In most other people, a lack of height like hers would be comical, or result in that person being less intimidating. In this girl’s case, however, her presence seemed to fill the space, creating the impression that she was bigger than she actually was. She was obviously used to holding her ground.

After a few moments, the silence began to eat at Loden, and he spoke again.

“Alrighty then. Let’s try a different vein of conversation. You seem very sure that I’m not some sort of dastardly intruder, who’s going to kidnap or murder you. Not that I don’t appreciate it, because getting hauled off to a jail cell would really ruin my day, but is it okay if I ask where that confidence comes from?”

“It’s perfectly acceptable.” That tiny, barely-noticeable, actually-kind-of-cute smile was back, and Loden let his own grin arc a little wider across his face. He shuffled his position as the girl spoke, boots scuffing the crimson carpet as he shoved his hands into his pockets and laxly crossed one of his lower legs over the other, supporting his weight on the straight limb. ““That confidence”, as you put it, comes from the fact that you’re not going to hurt me. I know that.”

“Yeah, but how?” Pressed Loden. “How do you know I’m not a threat?”

“Are you suggesting that I retreat on my stance?” The girl raised an eyebrow, lifting her arms from her sides and crossing them. “Allow me to remind you that me changing my mind on the matter would result in your incarceration.”

“Nothing but curiosity on my part.” Loden gave a small shrug. “It’s not like I haven’t gotten into trouble because of it before.”

“I see.” The girl’s shoulders moved backwards ever so slightly. Her version of a shrug, presumably. One thing was for sure – Loden was dealing with someone who kept their cards close to their chest. Cute as it was, there was an air of a threat to that smile. Only a madman such as him would risk tangling with her.

“Well,” she kept talking, either oblivious of Loden’s musings, or uncaring. “if you must know, it’s not that I don’t consider you unthreatening. But it is my belief that you, at least for now, have no intention of harming me.”

“Sound about right.” Confirmed Loden. “And you picked up on that… how?”

“If there’s one thing I know about men…” The girl rotated around, and began to glide down the hallway. “…they aren’t likely to harm someone they’ve been so blatantly making eyes at whenever possible.”

Damn. Caught out by hormones? That was a new low. Loden could feel himself beginning to flush crimson.

“Follow along, boy of proven masculinity.” Though her voice gave nothing away, the words were playful enough that Loden allowed himself another smile – a smaller, more genuine one – before striding after her, catching up before too long.

The palace hallways remained as objectively majestic and as subjectively meh as they had been in the past (except for, of course, any display featuring exotic weaponry), but this was less of a concern to Loden, now. After all, he now had this girl to think about. In Loden’s opinion, people were a lot more interesting than things. They had minds, and personalities, and opinions! They were all so wonderfully different. Yes, there was a coolness to weapons. But each and every weapon that he admired had been designed by someone – and he admired those people a great deal more.

In any case, his attention that wasn’t focused on scanning the general environment for anything of note was fixed firmly on the girl walking in front of him. A fascinating individual, to be sure. Her confidence was a breath of fresh air after being cooped up in a ship with both Iamos and Daiyu for hours on end, and she was more quick-witted and socially competent than most of the people he knew. Her posture, also, was impeccable, and gave an observer the impression that she was taller than she actually was.

If Loden had been in her shoes, he would have used that height – or lack of – to make people underestimate her, so that they would be less on edge in their presence. It was why he wore clothing that covered as much of his muscles as possible – so he could get the drop on anyone who might turn out to be an enemy later on. But, he conceded, perhaps things worked differently on this other plane of personal fortune. Maybe, in a royal court, it was important to constantly emit a sense of strength, so that trouble could be avoided altogether? It wasn’t like Loden would know…

The point was, it was nice to find someone that he could actually play off. Someone on whom his skills would not go to waste. Though, judging by his earlier slip-up (to be fair, she had looked gorgeous), he still had some work of his own to do.

“Here we are.” The girl’s voice cut through his thoughts once again. Looking up, Loden saw a paper-thin sliding door, decorated by an exquisitely painted image, depicting… some sort of battle? Maybe a historical scene, or something. What caught Loden’s attention was the thickness of the door – or, rather, how thin it was. Not only would it be easy to damage, but it looked as though someone outside the room would be able to hear everything happening inside. Loden could also see the silhouettes of objects inside the room because of how little material the door was made out of.

“Doesn’t seem all that… private.” He mused out loud, as the girl dug her fingers into a wooden grove near the far side of the door, prying it open with a quiet grating sound.

“These rooms aren’t designed for privacy, they’re designed for safety.” The girl explained. Loden appreciated the neutrality of her voice – he had half-expected her to be exasperated. “It’s a lot harder for someone to sneak around when just passing by a room might give the game away. There are also nightingale floors everywhere – not to mention the amount of guards.”

Loden whistled. “Dunno what I expected. It’s not like this is a palace or anything… wait, why are we here?”

“This is where you’ll be staying.” The girl explained, still giving nothing away. Damn it, why was she so hard to read?

“S’that so?” Loden peered around, going into “nonchalant” mode as he began to panic. Nifty as it all was, he hadn’t had any intention of staying in the palace, of all places. In an ideal world, he and Iamos would have already bought supplies and have made it back to the Origin, ready to head off to who-knew-where. On that matter, where was Iamos? Was he still talking to the Emperor? “Nice place and all, but I don’t remember making a reservation.”

“The choice is yours.” The girl revealed, surprising him. “My father, though, figured that you wouldn’t want to leave without your friend.”

“Iamos?” Loden turned to her. “Know where he is, by chance?”

She nodded. “There’s an adjoining room. You see that?” She pointed to what appeared to be the wall facing the pair, now that they were inside the room’s doorway. It was made out of the same skinny material as the other door (paper, Loden had decided, daft as it sounded), and also was covered in depictions of ancient warlords decapitating one another. Cheerful stuff. But there was another wooden groove in the side – did that mean it was another door?

“Is that hand bit-” Loden made a grabbing motion with his hand to demonstrate what he meant. “-the only way of knowing whether it’s a door or a wall?”

“I’m afraid so.” The girl informed him. “It’s a bit of a pain, to be honest.”

“You’re telling me.” Loden muttered, striding forward without pause, head almost hitting the low-hanging ceiling lantern as he passed. Upon reaching the door, he squinted, attempting to peer through it. Behind him, he could hear the girl about to ask what he was doing.

“Not that I don’t trust you, I just want to make sure that I don’t open the door on the wrong person.”

“I’m fairly certain that that’s what it means to not trust someone.” The girl replied. Loden turned to look back at her. Her arms were folded again, and she seemed to be pushing herself forward as she spoke. That, combined with the edge that her words suddenly had (where had that even come from?), gave Loden the sudden impression that he was cornered. A wild animal, trapped by a hunter and staring down the tip of a spear. He flinched, despite himself.

“…Okay, fine, I don’t trust you. To be fair, though, we just met.” He placed his hands on his hips, and stared her down. This cornered animal wasn’t going down without a fight. “Just because I was making eyes at you doesn’t mean that I’d get so carried away. A man’s got other things to than chase after the ladies.” His eyes wandered away from hers, and his head tilted until he found himself glancing back at the door-of-sorts. “Like looking out for his friends.”

There was a short silence. The girl remained expressionless, the pretty face becoming more and more mask-like to Loden’s eyes – a tool to throw people off, to never reveal the true feelings of the wearer. Did any emotions ever get through, he wondered? Was this really how someone privy to the Empire’s courts had to act? Day in, day out, never letting their guard down? Was that the price to pay for never having to worry about the weather, or where your next meal was coming from?

Despite often bitterly wondering about the differences in class, at that very moment, Loden Adalwin was happy with being born to a pair of immigrants.

The girl looked as though she was about to speak, and the sight focused Loden on the situation at hand. However, a voice spoke up before she could.

“Loden?”

It was quiet. Very subdued. Very tired-sounding. But it was undoubtedly the voice of his best friend.

“Iamos!” Loden called back, turning to face the door. A humanoid shape was visible on the other side, slowly moving towards the door. “That you, buddy?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Iamos sounded like he was talking in his sleep as he stopped in front of the door. “Let me just-”

He stopped talking as a ripping sound rang out, echoing into the silence of Loden’s room in an almost ominous fashion. Loden looked down, and saw that Iamos’ hand had missed the fiddly little wooden groove on the edge of the door. Instead, it had gone right through the paper-thin wall. Iamos’ extended fingers still lingered on the other side of the door, quivering slightly.

“Oh.” Loden muttered, torn between laughing out loud and curling into a ball from second-hand embarrassment. The hand stayed where it was for a moment longer before slowly, awkwardly retreating through the hole it had created, a couple of smaller ripping sounds accompanying it. The girl remained silent, and Loden couldn’t help but wonder what she might have been thinking.

After a couple more seconds, the door finally slid open to reveal Iamos, head hanging low. His limbs were drooping, and he was grabbing onto a wooden frame (rather than leaning on a flimsy wall) for support. He looked like he had run for miles – but Loden knew better.

“That bad?” He asked, softening his voice. Though he wanted to reach out a hand and comfort him, he figured that physical contact may not have been a good idea.

“Yeah.” Iamos breathed, the words little more than a whisper on the non-existent breeze.

“What…” The words made Loden jump a little. Upon seeing Iamos, all of his other thoughts had dived out of his head – he had almost forgotten that the girl was still there, watching everything. His gaze flicked back between her and Iamos as she paused, furrowed her brow, and spoke again. “What happened?”

“My guess? That conversation she had with that Emperor of yours stressed him out.” Normally, Loden would be better – far better – at keeping emotion out of his voice. But a combination of the stress of being dragged into a palace and seeing his friend reeling from the pressure of such a conversation left him caring little about putting up a confident front. The girl gave a small start, but Loden didn’t care. It wasn’t like he really owed the Emperor any respect, anyway.

“Not just that.” Iamos spoke again, before wandering over to a chair that was in Loden’s room and sitting down in it. As he walked, his legs trembled like a new-born lamb. “Loden… I have to stay.”

“Why?” Loden blurted out, as a sinking feeling overtook him.

“The Emperor wants me to.” Despite the implied honour, Iamos looked as though he’d rather be anywhere except inside a palace. “I… I couldn’t tell him about the Origin. I couldn’t. So now I can’t even get a message to Azura and Daiyu…” He leaned forward in the chair, clenching his hands together, staring at the ground.

“Shoot.” Loden muttered, hesitantly beginning to walk towards Iamos before stopping dead. “How many spoons do you have left, buddy?”

The girl shot a hint of a quizzical look at Loden, clearly surprised by the question. Now that Loden thought about it, it was becoming ever-so-slightly easier to read her. It helped to keep in mind that even when she did emote, the effect was often still minute. Jeez, she was going to give him a headache.

“Not many.” Responded Iamos. “That, or they’re made of… paper, or something. I don’t know. I just…” His head lowered even further, his back arching over like a collapsing bridge. “I just need some time.”

“I hear you.” Loden would have leaned back against the wall, but he was afraid of doing an Iamos and tearing right through the material. He settled for running his hands through his greasy hair, the feeling soothing him somewhat. It was a nervous tic of his.

“Spoons?” He was brought out of his brooding by the girl’s voice. Iamos looked up again, as though seeing her for the first time.

“Hi Miyuki.” He managed to say.

“Oh, so the two of you have met?” Loden’s eyebrow raised as his gaze shifted from one to the other. Though, if he thought about it, it made sense for the same person to escort both Iamos and Loden to their rooms. “Also… Miyuki. Nice name, that.”

“Much appreciated.” The girl replied. “Loden, too, has an appealing ring to it, don’t you agree?”

“Would you believe me if I said that I was biased on the matter?”

“I would consider that a realistic opinion.”

“Glad to hear it.” Loden’s rising mood plummeted back down to earth when he turned his attention towards Iamos once again. “So… you’re stuck here?”

“Mm.” Iamos nodded. His face slowly contorted into one of a boy in thought. “You know, he only asked for me. You don’t hav-”

“Iamos, do me a favour and allow what you’re about to say to perish and die.” Loden was tempted to walk forward a couple of steps for emphasis, as he normally would have done, but he did not dare to invade Iamos’ personal space during recovery time. “If you think I’m willing to leave without you, you must be really shaken up.”

“But…” Iamos was still struggling with the words. Still breathing heavily. Still shaking ever so slightly. How long had it been, Loden wondered, since that cool and collected façade had dropped like this? “The others will… they’ll… they’ll wonder where we are.”

“Nope.” Loden grinned and arched his back lower in an attempt to meet Iamos’ eyes – wait, no, that wouldn’t be a good idea. He stopped trying to make eye contact, and settled for trying to stare at the forehead area. “They aren’t going to be wondering anything. I’ve got a plan-” He stopped talking as he realised something rather inconvenient.

Miyuki’s eyes remained glued to him as he awkwardly rose and turned to face her.

“Uuh…” He hesitated, unable to think of any kind of excuse on such short notice, and even more unable to think of a way to prevent her from ratting them out the second he said anything that might be considered out of turn in the Emperor’s domain… or whatever. “Feel free to cover your ears?”

Chaffing moron. That wasn’t exactly subtle.

In response, Miyuki folded her arms and stared the pair down. “No, keep going.” She urged, and Loden could have sworn he could see her smirking. “I’m interested.”

Loden sighed. “Can you at least promise to not repeat a word of what I’m about to say to… well, anyone?” When all else failed, bank on human decency and make sure to do your business before they change their mind.

“I make no promises.” She replied, much to Loden’s dismay. If he looked at the situation realistically, perhaps he would have seen the inevitable disaster, but Loden Adalwin had never been one for realism. Everything that happened could be worked into his favour. He just had to be… creative about it. And, on the plus side, a hot girl was interested in what he had to say, which was something.

“I mean,” Loden explained as he decided to throw caution to the wind (it had never really done him much good anyway), “I’d expect you to report the escape I have planned.”

“Escape?” She raised an eyebrow, now. “Continue.”

“Well, it’s quite simple.” Loden raised a hand and continued to feign confidence. “I shall fight my way through whatever guards might be stationed, and, once Iamos recovers, he shall use his alchemy to make a nice hole in the wall, through which we can escape. It’ll be easy.” That was it, he just had to keep projecting that confidence. The bluster behind his words might have been slightly apparent, but few people were ever willing to question someone who sounded as sure of their words as he did. No, he wasn’t projecting confidence. He was confidence. He was-

“…an utter idiot.” Her voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Come again?”

“I said, you’re an utter idiot. Do you really think it would be so easy to “escape”, as you put it, the royal palace?”

Loden stroked his chin, trying not to lose his temper or panic. “I mean, I did until you said that…”

“The security isn’t exactly lax.” Miyuki glowered at him. “The guards stationed in here are on the lookout for any suspicious activities – that includes breakouts as well as break-ins. If you intend to literally break out with alchemy, you’re going to trigger a city-wide search.”

“Then… then we’ll sneak out!” Loden protested, struggling more and more to regain control over the situation, though he knew deep down that he was already in over his head.

“Have you even heard of a nightingale floor?” Miyuki responded. “You don’t know your way around, or anything about the guards’ shifts. You’d be caught within minutes.”

“Fine.” Snarled Loden. “But anything’s better than sitting around here and doing nothing.”

“Anything?” Miyuki echoed, folding her arms. “What about being moved to less comfortable lodgings? Being separated? Maybe even executed?” She narrowed her eyes, and Loden was struck by how suddenly emotive she seemed to have become. “You have more to lose than you might believe.”

There was a brief silence. Loden inhaled and exhaled, heavily. In all honesty, he was angry. Angry at himself, and his naiveté, because of course it wasn’t going to be that easy to get out of a palace, but having it pointed out to him still stung. He needed to focus on something else. Anything else…

“I have to admit, I’m surprised that we’re having this conversation, as opposed to you running off and telling someone about my intentions.”

The words were out of his mouth before he had time to consider their folly.

Miyuki remained silent for a moment, before shrugging.

“I’m a higher authority than you might realise.” She revealed. “There’s not a lot of people I could leave it in the hands of. Besides…” She smirked at him, and holy spades, it was an actual smirk instead of some suppressed hint of emotion. That was new.

“I have an idea of my own.” She finished, leaving Loden – for the first time since meeting her – truly uneasy as a result of her words. It was obvious enough that she was a secretive and scheming sort of person. Whatever idea she had, Loden doubted that it would be good for him.

“Let’s hear it.” He challenged, staring her down. She began walking closer, each step slow and small. Physically putting pressure on him. Damn, she was good.

“How about... I don’t tell anyone about what you’re planning.” Step. “That instead of reporting you, I help you.” Step. “Guard positions.” Step. “Trapped areas.” Step. “Quick exits.” Step. “I can be your guide through this maze of a palace.”

She was standing almost directly in front of Loden now – he had to look down to see into her eyes, which remained deceptively beautiful and dazzling. Her gaze… he figured he now had a new understanding of why raccoon traps were so effective.

“Sounds helpful.” Loden admitted, keeping his voice low and measured as he stared her down. “But if there’s one thing I know about an offer like that, it’s that it’ll come with some strings attached. So… what’s your game?”

“I’m very glad you asked.” She was almost smiling now, her face reminiscent of something grateful and dangerous and conflicted all at once. He couldn’t get a lock on her true feelings… and that bothered him.

“I’ll be leaving with you.”