Chapter 13: Branch 3: Theovald

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“Captain” “Sire Theovald” “Your Grace” “Duke Airnett”

Is what the knight hears as he walks through the afternoon camp.  The sunlight, chill in the air, and morning rain, give everything a fresh sharp look.

He is not armored but his sword is, as always, at his side.  The knight's mind, though, is elsewhere.  He does not want to do this.  He really does not want to see Avi again.  Nor does he want to face “that” thing again either.

The Beast.

The new duke has heard that is what everyone calls it now.  Not just for its monstrous strength but also, according to the knights guarding its tent, for its monstrous… appetite.

Moans and screams of lust lasting all through the night.

Some laud its stamina but, to lay with cursed?  Even for a beast that would be…

“Disgusting.”  He whispers.

As would only the lowest scum of a person take advantage of women right after being ruined.

Was it really just yesterday?

Feels like a lifetime for the new leader of House Airnett.  Maty told him it's because of how painful it was.  Thank the goddess for Maty, he thinks.  Only been a few months but she truly saved him.

The fighting was so terrible that the knight felt he was breaking inside.  So many friends.  So many comrades.  Dying in so many ways.  Everything from ripped in two and eaten before his eyes to just bleeding to death because the healers had run out of mana and potions.

“Matylda Jouveral.”

Just another replacement.  Amazing with the blade and willing to listen to his breaking heart.  And she doesn't want him to do this either.  Avi and Theo were childhood sweethearts that had not met in years.

When they recently reunited after his unit was recalled to the capital?  It was like they had never parted.

Then to next see her covered in gore with her ruined…  Binding herself to that…  She must know how much pain it is putting him through, right?  Does she not care?

Another whisper.  “Why, Avi.  Why did you choose Metia over me?”

They promised to marry upon his return, before he left to become a squire in the Order of the White Rose.  And driven by her vow.  He returned a knight in less than two years, to ask the king for his daughter's hand.

But it was too late.  His beloved had recently joined the church and was in seclusion.  Training to become an Oracle of Metia.

He desperately tried to see her but was refused at every turn.  The order itself finally stepped in and transferred him to the Drasritor border.

There he gained fame fighting demons and monsters of every kind.  Since even when there was peace?  The border was never peaceful.  Raids and counter raids were commonplace.

The lonely knight took comfort where he could find it.  Few women would deny a dashing young man who belonged to one of Tourin’s four ducal houses.  But the hole in his heart remained.

Then the invasion came.

It was beyond his nightmares.  No one believed Drasritor, already at war with Aquecia, could still field such overwhelming numbers.

Battle after battle.  One desperate fight after another.  Siege after siege.  Even the victories feeling like defeats.  The hordes seemed endless.

Then the recall order came.  He was grateful for the break but feared what would happen on the front without his elite unit.  And what would the capital even be like in the midst of war?

It was heavenly.  Sleeping in a freshly cleaned bed.  Eating fresh bread.  Then hearing his Avi was not just an Oracle?  But was going to bring a hero from another world?  Seemed too good to be true.

It was.

The panicked prophecy.  Desperate run to the cathedral.  Finding his brother dead and his beloved broken, cursed, and even enslaved.

Seeing the Beast.  Of course he could feel its aura too.  The anger.  No, rage.  A boiling ocean of hate.  A god of blood made flesh.

He would still fight it to save Avi but…  Protect her but…  She didn't want him to.  Thank the goddess for Maty’s comfort.  And now he has to face that monster again.

The church is outraged.  An Oracle binding herself to the Beast is bad enough.  But the Beast wielding Sanctity?  Blasphemy.

It had been entrusted to the Oracle to give to the Hero.  A holy sword for a holy warrior.  Letting the Beast have it?  Even touch it?  Vile heresy to them.

If Theo, as the highest ranking knight in camp, does not do something?  The priests may take matters into their own hands.

If they do?  The new duke wonders if anyone would survive the battle.

As he approaches the tent.  The knight notices things look… wrong.

First, the tent is bigger.  Someone has added to it but he had not been asked nor approved.

Second, the guards present to keep the Beast isolated?  Have pulled their perimeter back and doubled in number.  Another thing he has not been asked nor approved of.

Third, the guards in question are from Captain Topher’s unit.  Whose members are known to be unusually devout.

Are the priests already scheming?

Lastly, why is one of the cursed standing outside the tent's entrance?  Like a guard.  What the pit is going on here?  A sword?  Why is she armed?

He was going to demand answers from a guard but decides to approach the woman instead.  As he passes the guards' perimeter a familiar tingle is felt across his skin.

A [Barrier]?  The Beast knows that spell?

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Somehow detected, before he reaches the entrance, Avi steps out to greet him.  Is that really Avi?  He thinks.  She looks so different compared to yesterday.  So much healthier.  More confident.  Even… happy?

A dagger is on her hip and she wears a tight brown shirt and tight brown pants with a short white skirt, completely unlike her usual dresses.  Her curtsy though?  Is so familiar it pains his heart.

“Your Grace, Airnett.  To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

“Avi.  I am grateful the priestesses were able to help you.”  Relief fills the knight's heart.  “I have come to speak with… it.  The church requests the Divine Blade, Sanctity, be returned.”

The former oracle looks the knight straight in the eye.

“My deepest apologies, but the master is still sleeping.  And I cannot touch his property without permission.”  Duke Airnett wonders how the Beast could still be sleeping.  It is the middle of the afternoon.  “I will inform the master immediately of the church's request when he awakens.”

Sire Theovald can feel the revulsion rising.  His Avi should not be calling that thing, “master.”

“The holy sword is not its property.  You may not be able to touch it but I certainly can.”  That his Avi would be taken from him again.  And in the same camp no less.  Damn that Beast.  “Step aside Avi.”

“No.”  The new duke freezes.

In all the years he's known Princess Avalina, she has never told him “no.”

She might decline, but it was always in sweet distracting ways where he wouldn't realize the refusal until later.  If ever.  This time there was no shyness in Avi's eyes now.  No blush to her cheeks.

The knight captain felt shame as he could guess where this change came from.  If only he had saved her this time.  If only…

“Avi.  I will never forgive myself for every time I have failed to rescue you.”  Now it is her turn to freeze.  “You know?  I still cannot accept that you chose Metia over me.  I came back for you.  Only to discover you had already left me behind.  Without even a note left to explain why.”  His breath shudders.

“Theo…”  She whispers and can no longer bear looking him in the eyes.

He sighs.  “I may forever struggle with it but that is yesterday and this is today.  Today requires stopping the demons and Sanriel's sword has a role to play.”  Steeling himself.  “What you brought to this world is not a holy warrior.  So it should not have a holy sword.  I apologize but I will be taking it now.”

He only means to pick Avi up and set her aside.  But his frustration gets the better of him and he practically lunges for her.

Avi stumbles back.  Slipping out of Theo's grasp while crossing her arms.

“[Shield]”

The off-balance knight is stunned as first his hands and then his face collide with a round, hard, transparent, and floating, object that has appeared in front of Avi.

Of course a veteran like him quickly recovers his stance.  But his thoughts are still tangled by what he has just witnessed.  Even the other girl now holding a sword to his neck pales in comparison to what he just saw.

“Th-that is impossible…”  He still refuses his eyes.  “You are cursed.  You can't cast anymore.”  He looks at her suspiciously.  “Your mana has been sullied.  Dirtied.  How?”

The eyes he's never forgotten seem stronger than ever but her laugh is bitter.

“Oh my sweet Theo.  The priestesses did what they always do.  Heal enough so we will not die and leave a cup of poison at our bedside.”  Her eyes turn hard.  “Metia didn't save us.  He did.”  Her posture turns proud.  “Master was outraged when he saw how we were abandoned.  He stayed up all night healing us.  Saving us.”

A crazy gleam enters her eyes.

“I have never heard of the spells master used.  Mixed magic tongues with ease.  Burning so much mana you could smell it.”  An unsettling look of wonder spreads across her face.  “Was even dual casting.”

More bitter laughter.

“Even the Grey Sage had difficulty with that.  Yet the master made it look effortless.  And when he reached inside me?  Through my very skin?  Felt like my soul was being cleansed.”  The woman next to her is trembling and a sweet earthy smell begins to spread.  “And he did this for hours, Theo.  Hours.”

One of the most powerful nobles in Tourin stares at his childhood love.  The woman before him is Avi.  But it is also not Avi.  At least, not his Avi.

The horror she went through, broke her, he thinks.  Of course it did.  It would be almost impossible to not be shattered by it.

Then, instead of her knight in shining armor, a beast covered in blood put her back together again.  A miserable smile appears on his face as Theo realizes he's again failed to save her.

And will probably never get another chance too.

The smile on Avi's face, instead, turns vicious.  “So, I will apologize again to your grace Airnett, but my master is resting.  And if the church feels he is not holy enough to wield a blade that has already accepted him?” 

The goddess must be crying over such an evil look appearing on this once angelic face.

“Then they are welcome to try and take it.”

The young knight realizes there is nothing left to say.  She will not be swayed.  And force will only rouse the Beast.  The melancholy noble bows, turns, and walks back through the sea of tents.

So distracted by new revelations is he, that he does not wonder why the guards didn't react when a sword was at his throat.  Nor does he notice the lustful sounds that resume as soon as he passes the [barrier].

Sigh.

There will have to be another meeting.  With at least Dame Matylda and Sire Erwalt.  Probably more.  The new duke knows his majesty must be notified immediately too.

“Captain” “Duke Airnett” “Sire Theovald” “Your Grace”

The depressed knight no longer notices the salutations and salutes.

The Beast can break the demon curse, dual cast, has vast stores of mana, and healing powers that may surpass the legendary Saint Sanriel herself.

A barely controllable berserker is one thing.  A barely controllable berserker with maybe enough mana and skill to heal an army?  That is something entirely different.

The suddenly tired duke sighs again as he realizes how much longer his day has just become.

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