Chapter 1: Chapter 1

A mischievous grin that screams success flashes across the face of an amethyst eyed girl as she separates her palms from each other.  She looks herself over for any mishaps and the first thing she notices is how her hawaiian shirt drapes down from her shoulders to her thighs like some sort of mini-dress.  She takes a step towards the two onlookers but loses balance as her feet get caught in her now oversized shoes.

 

Geira rushes forward at the girl's staggering.  Her short, leaf green, hair flutters about as she catches the smaller girl by her shoulders.

 

The girl looks down at her small hands, watching her thin fingers as she opens and clenches her fists.  Pursing her lips, she says, “This… might take some getting used to…”

 

Geira's composure breaks and her grip on the girl’s arms tighten.  Shaking her once, she says, “No… what!?  How?  You were… and now!  Just who are you!?”

 

The girl chuckles at Giera’s confusion as she peels her hands off.  She then parts her curtain of wavy black hair away from her face, slipping what she can of it behind an ear as she says, “Chill, just relax.  That was nothing more than a spell.”

 

She then gestures towards herself, placing her fingers against her chest.  “Like I was saying earlier, my na… No, wait… one sec… Shana!  That's it, call me Shana. S- H- A- N- A, but pronounced Shah-nah.”

 

Shana’s eyes then narrow as she falls into thought.  While touching her throat with her fingers, she says, “I sound a bit like Kairi…”

 

That is when she notices the other girl trying to slink away.  She seems to be trying to hide her face with her hood, but her cloak is so ragged and tattered, she has to hold it in place.

 

“Wait,” Shana darts after her.  Her quick gait shakes her baggy jeans.  It, unable to cling to her slim waist, slides further with each step.  She barely manages seven steps before it gets caught around her thighs.  Her hand flies down to pull them back up, but her feet slide within her shoes and she stumbles once more.

 

The other girl stops backing away and hurries forward to help Shana.  Reaching forward, she releases her hood and the cover instantly falls away to reveal black eyes and a head of black hair.

 

Shana’s muscle memory takes over mid-fall and she dives into a roll, slipping out of her shoes and pants in the process.  As she springs back up onto her feet, her underwear also finishes sliding off, not that she notices.  She doesn’t even pay the dirt and leaves clinging to her shoulder and hair any mind, instead her attention is fixed on the other girl.

 

Now that she is getting a clear look at her face, she realizes the girl greatly resembles an acquaintance of hers. As such, she unconsciously gives her a friendly smile, something she normally wouldn’t do for a random stranger on the road.

 

Her expression then hardens.  With her amethyst eyes remaining focused solely on the other girl she gestures to the dead cyclopes scattered around them. “More importantly, what was all that about?  Where were they taking you?”

 

The other girl’s black eyes widen upon seeing Shana’s face.  She is so shocked, she only manages a stunned, “…I… I’m Thea…” and completely disregards everything she was asked.  Shana’s face is eerily similar to her own.  There are a few notable differences, the most important being their eyes.  However, what truly shocks her is Shana’s thick, wavy, black hair.  Thea nervously keeps her straight hair short.  She can’t even claim it reaches past her chin.  Shana, however, proudly allows hers to reach down past her shoulders.

 

Geira, too, rubs her eyes upon seeing the two stand side by side.  Now that the battle is over and she can get a proper look, she realizes Shana and Thea not only have similar facial features, they share a striking resemblance in build.  Even the tan of their skin is the same shade.  “Are you two sisters?”

 

Shana is taken aback by the question.  Furrowing her eyes, she thinks about how to answer.  Then, with another glance at Thea, says, “I suppose you could say we’re ‘blood-sisters,’ but genetically speaking, I guess we could be considered distant cousins?”

 

She then turns back to Thea and says, “More importantly, what happened?”

 

“No,” Geira cuts in.  “More importantly, you’re half naked.  Aren’t you going to cover yourself?”

 

Shana tilts her head at the question.  She was so caught off guard by Thea’s face that she hadn’t really notice.  That said, truthfully, other than holding her now discarded jeans in place and making herself vulnerable to being attacked, she’s unable to improve her situation.  None of her belts would help her either.  She thus gives a thoughtless, “Yep, I totally should.”

 

Geira face palms.  Even Thea is embarrassed at the response she just heard.  Geira says, “That’s not the point here.  Look, I get it.  It hasn’t even been half an hour yet, but I’ve more than figured out you’re one of them crazed magical researchers.  Still…  have a sense of modesty.”

 

Shana sighs at her pushy insistence.  “But nothing I have fits me anymore…” She then turns to her discarded jeans and underwear and after some thought, says, “I just need to make the waist smaller and legs shorter, right?”  She then claps her hands together and the two articles of clothing are enveloped in neon amethyst light. 

 

Once the light fades, the results of her spellcraft are revealed.  Tears have appeared on her jeans, running from the waist down one of the legs while the other has frizzled into various balls.  They create an image of a strange blooming flower.  As for the underwear, part of the fabric seems to have weaved its way into the blooming jeans thing. 

 

Shana picks up her results for a better look and ash falls from it as the remaining leg flutters about.  As far as she can conclude, that ash is the rest of her missing underwear.  Furthermore, various parts of the inside have fused together making stepping into it impossible.  “Well… this was my first-time trying alchemy on something as complicated as clothes…”

 

Now that some time has passed, she notices there is a draft between her legs.  Despite her earlier remark, she isn’t unbothered by her exposure.  That was her more being caught off guard than anything else.  She then looks down at her oversized shirt.  While part of the collar is sliding down her shoulder, it doesn’t seem like the whole thing will slip off any time soon.  Regardless, she adjusts it by buttoning the remaining two buttons.  She then tugs at the hems of the shirt in hopes of stretching it even just a bit further down her thighs.  The situation isn’t ideal, “but I suppose it’s better than nothing…”

 

Geira shakes her head.  “Forget it, you can borrow something of mine.  We can buy you new clothes once we’re all back in Ostia.”

 

Thea’s taken aback by the sudden decision.  She takes a few steps back, saying, “No need.  I’ll be just fine on my—”

 

Geira cuts her off with a sharp, “Absolutely not!  You were captured by a group of cyclopes.  There’s no way I’m ignoring this.”

 

Shana turns to Geira.  “From how you speak, a group of cyclopes is bad?”

 

Geira is taken aback by ignorant interruption.  Working to keep from snapping back, she says, “Cyclopes are solitary creatures.  The only time they’ll unify to work in groups is when they’re being controlled.”

 

Shana’s amethyst eyes once more narrow as she recalls how they easily parried her zweihander despite her ridiculous level of strength.  The fireballs she cast weren’t much better either.  Only after strengthening herself with magic was she finally able to cut through them.

 

Geira then gestures Thea towards her pegasus.  “Come on, Vor is more than strong enough to carry us all back.” 

 

Thea again tries to refuse.  “No, really.  This is normal.  There’s no poin—”

 

Geira cuts her off by grabbing her arm and forcing her onto the front of her mount.  She then digs through one of her bags, reaching her arm in deeper than should be physically possible, and throws a bundled up skirt at Shana.

 

Shana makes a face as she stares at the clothing.  “Do you have anything else?”

 

“Not anything that’ll fit.”

 

Geira isn’t exaggerating.  Not only is she almost a full head taller than her, she is quite well built.  Her muscles aren’t bulging, but they are robust, though not to the detriment of her womanly traits.  If anything, they enhance her allure.

 

Shana swallows her reluctance and turns around. Then, after brushing away the dirt and leaves from her shoulder, hair, and knees, she slips into the skirt without another complaint.  Tightening it is a bit tricky, but she figures it out and looks herself over.  Satisfied it reaches past her knees, even if also still clearly vexed that it isn’t pants, she proceeds to collect the remains of her clothes and shoes.  Not wanting to carry them, she drops everything behind her back where they vanishes just like her sword did earlier.

 

She then stares at the pegasus in doubt, making no move to approach.  “Your stupid horse swatted me with his wings last time I tried touching him.”

 

Geira releases a helpless sigh.  “I know, I know, but you should be fine now.  Also, Vor is a pegasus.”

 

Shana’s expression falls flat as she looks herself over.  Realizing what has changed between now and then, she facepalms while saying, “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

 

As Thea watches the exchange in confusion, Geira looks away in shame.

 

Shana takes a breath, walks up to Vor, and learns towards his face.  Annoyance laces her words as she says, “So, you’re going to let me ride you now?”

 

Vor holds his head up high as he neighs in approval.  He then lowers himself to make climbing up easier for Shana.

 

Shana stares at Vor for a few seconds before turning to Geira.  She gives a flat, “Yeah, I think I’ll just walk.”

 

Geira shakes her head upon seeing Shana begin to actually do just that.  She trots Vor up behind her, and with the words, “You’ll hurt your feet like this,” scoops the smaller girl up from underneath her arms.  After seating her side saddle right behind herself, she grins with anticipation as she says, “Make sure to hold on tight so you don’t fall off. Oh, and you might want to keep your legs closed too.”

 

Shana grumbles, but ultimately decides against jumping off Vor.  She wraps one arm around Geira’s waist and uses the other to balance herself so she can readjust her skirt.  While she was able to tighten it to fit her waist, she can’t get used to how the cloth slides around, underneath, and between her legs.  Once settled, she again brushes her wavy hair away from her face and voices a major concern of hers.  “I don’t have any identification.”

 

“I’m a Valkyrja.  As long as I vouch for you two, no one will say anything.”

 

“Is being a Valkyrja really that amazing?”  Shana’s tone is light as she adds, “Sure, your hair is an impossible color, but don’t you just go around giving funeral rites to fallen warriors?”

 

Geira tosses a cold glare over her shoulder at Shana.  Disgust laces her voice as she says, “You really don’t know about anything other than a few spells, do you?”

 

“Where I come from, Valkyrja have the role of guiding the souls of courageously departed to Valhalla.”

 

Geira makes a face as she sighs at Shana.  “Okay, fine, that isn’t wrong.  Overseeing funerals is one of my duties, but that’s just a minor one.  My true role is that of a shield.  I search out that which threaten the peace and defend those who can’t defend themselves.”  After a moment of silence, she then adds, “Say, where is Ponamu, anyway?  I honestly can’t place your accent.  Were your clothes normal there?”

 

“In the middle of the ocean.  It’s an island within a volcanic archipelago.  I’d honestly be more surprised if you had heard of it.”

 

Geira then laughs.  “You’re pretty relaxed abou—”

 

“Why’d you do it?”  Thea, with a voice full of doubt, is unable to hold back any longer and speaks up from in front of Geira.  As far as she can tell, she and Shana are distant relatives who met with the same misfortune, yet Shana somehow managed the impossible feat of disguising herself.  She might have even found a way to suppress her curse, although that might have only been because it isn’t as strong in her.  Regardless, she dispelled it without a second thought.

 

“I don’t understand.  Why would you give your life up like that?”  Thea recalls how Shana wiped away some of her blood from a cut before then placing that blood covered finger in her own mouth.  Afterwards, she clapped her hands together, and in a blaze of electric blue light, destroyed her disguise. 

 

Countless magicians have tried to get a hold of Thea just for her blood.  Its numerous magical properties make it akin to a philosopher’s stone for them.  The simplest way to use her blood is for a dispelling effect.  It is so potent with magic that it can blow away any other spell or enchantment with a simple adjustment.

 

“You were free…”

 

Geira, not wanting to press Shana into answering, keeps from turning her head back to look at her.  Still, she places her full attention into hearing what she’ll say.

 

Shana is taken aback by the question.  She doesn’t know how to answer it.  In fact, she isn’t sure she understands what she is being asked either, but decides to answer with honesty.  “I helped you because you were in danger.  I don’t really need a reason to help others.  If you mean my current appearance, don’t think so much about it. Not like it’s the first time I’ve done this.”

 

Thea purses her lips as she sinks down in on herself.  She can accept Geira’s desire to help her.  Many people have reached out to her during her travels with offers of aid in one way or another.  While most merely meant to trick her into lowering her guard, others were genuinely concerned.  As a result, she is confident in her ability to judge the intentions of others.

 

No one, however, has ever gone as far as Shana has.  As far as she can tell, the other girl genuinely acted to help her.  That she undid her disguise can only be taken as her way of being honest with her, to show her she isn’t alone.

 

Shana too falls into thought.  She considers for a moment explaining why she is in the woods, thinking it might help clear some things up, but decides against it.  Being honest could easily land her in jail.  If necessary, she’ll tell them, but for now, she decides to wait and see.  More importantly, she at that moment is quite curious about what Thea is really asking.  Regardless, she doesn’t ask for details.  While her knowledge is lacking, she has no doubt she will be able to figure it out sooner or later.

 

Thinking about it anymore, however, is pointless.  As such, Shana intends to use the rest of the travel time to gather information on other matters.  While gazing at the passing trees, she says to Geira, “So, I was asking you back when I thought you were trying to steal my organs, but about-”

 

“I was not trying to steal your organs!”

 

Shana giggles at the rise she got out of Geira and says, “My bad, my bad, but the way we met just felt really shady.”  As Geira clicks her tongue, Shana continues, “So about your hair.  You said green is the sign of a Valkyrja, but were you born like that, or did it just become green after a while?”

 

Geira heaves out another sigh at the basic question.  Even if Shana is a stranger to the continent, to not know something that simple can only mean she’s from a place abandoned by the gods.  Then again, considering her black hair, her having been raised in such a place wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprising.  Deciding to take extra note of the girl’s actions on the possibility that she’s acting on behalf of the Dreaded One, she says, “Okay, first, there’s no specific hair color designation.  Green merely struck the Allfather’s fancy at the time. As for my hair, I was born like this.  The same way it was decided you should have amethyst eyes, I was given leaf green hair.”

 

Shana’s eyes widen upon hearing they are amethyst.  That is also her only reaction to the unexpected information.  She wants to pull out a mirror from her dimensional storage to check, but contains her curiosity, feeling that doing so would be too suspicious of an action.  Instead, she thinks back to the other impossible eye colors she has seen since arriving and asks, “Is there a point to distinguishing us like this?”

 

“It’s the gods marking us for greatness, an honor anyone and everyone would sacrifice their lives for.  For a Daughter of the Dreaded One like you to have such a distinction is unheard of though.”

 

Shana’s eyes narrow at the comment.  The pride that laced Geira’s words as she answered disgusts her.  She keeps the emotion from her voice and she says, “Does it make us stronger or something?”

 

“No, only Fraujaz Apostles receive blessings.  Although, even then, there is a line of thought that believes their achievements stem from their own natural abilities.  The gods are holding their tongue on that matter.”

 

Shana gives a flat, “So then they’re just expecting us to throw everything aside and wash their feet?  How pathetic.  I have no need for some meddling god to brand me with some sort of stigma.  This life is mine to live and mine alone.”

 

Thea feels a chill run down her spine at the open blasphemy.  Personally aware of Shana’s position in the world, she can’t help but find her bold words, to a Valkyrja no less, terrifying.

 

Geira herself tenses at the remark.  Her hand twitches for the spear mounted on Vor’s side, but she takes a deep breath and keeps her hands on Vor’s reins.  Recalling Shana’s black hair, she tries to imagine the sort of life she must have lived so far.  Upon considering the hardships and fear the girl must have gone through on a daily basis, she wonders if she too would come to despise the heavens had her circumstances been the same. 

 

Thea, fearful of the direction their conversation is going, jumps in on the silence.  Her words are clear, but quick.  “Shana, I’ve been wondering, but what brought you here from… Ponamu, was it?”

 

Geira says, “Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while now too.  I meant to earlier, but then all this happened.”

 

Shana grows quiet as she recalls walking down a street while joking around with her friends.  “There was a blinding light, then I was here.”

 

Geira tilts her head.  “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”

 

The silence that falls upon them strains the curiosity of Geira and Thea into an awkward feeling of being duped.  Geira soon loses her patience and snaps.  “That doesn’t tell us a damn thing!”

 

Shana responds with an indifferent, “Yeah, I want answers too.”

 

Geira isn’t sure what to make of Shana’s statement, but laughs at the strange acceptance in her tone.

 

“Shana you’re a complete stranger to these lands.  Can you at least try to sound worried?”
“Being worried isn’t going to help me get home.”
“Do you even know where you are?”
“The Holy Aelia Empire.”
“Fine, so you’re somewhat familiar with the geography. What exactly are you planning to do next?”
“I guess I’ll just wander around?”
“Be serious about this!”
“I am dead serious.”
“What do you mean, ‘dead’!?”

 

Thea chuckles at their exchange.  It’s more out of relief at the new direction the conversation is flowing than Shana’s frivolous attitude.  To ensure it continues to flow on that happier note, she says, “You’re really brave, Shana.”

 

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Geira says, “Foolish is more like it.  A cute girl going off on her own in a place she knows nothing about?  There’s nothing inspiring about it, just blind recklessness.  Even with your hair, scoundrels are going to be throwing themselves at you in droves.  If you're not careful, some patrician might even take you away.”

 

Shana blanches at that warning.  Despite sitting behind everyone and not being visible to them, she flexes an arm and says, “I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

 

Thea answers before Geira can say anything, “That’s true.  I would have never imagined anyone being able to swing such a massive sword.”

 

Geira gives a noncommittal, “hmm,” as she recalls Shana running on air as she beheaded a cyclops.  Then, as they emerge from the forest and step onto the road, she pulls Vor’s reins.  “We’ll need to hurry or the gate will close on us.  Try not to talk anymore lest you bite your tongue.”

 

Vor dashes down the forest road.  Then, the moment an opening in the tree line appears, he leaps.  His wings spread, and with a powerful flap, they lift him and his riders over the trees.  Another flap lifts them even higher.

 

Thea gasps at a view only visible from mountains or very tall towers.  Her eyes dart left and right, moving from the sea of trees underneath all the way to the horizon, taking in everything that lies in between. 

 

Shana herself merely looks down from Vor’s back to the treetops below.  After adjusting her skirt to keep it from fluttering too much, she looks around a bit more.  Then, she says, “How high can he fly?”

 

Geira jolts at Shana’s complete disregard to her earlier warning.  While wondering if calling her out on it would be pointless, she says, “Past the clouds.”  Then, upon hearing Thea gasp in wonder, she shakes her head.

 

Geira wishes her hair were longer so that it would billow in the wind and into Shana’s mouth.  Then, while chuckling to herself, she reminds the girl to keep her mouth closed before continuing where she left off.  “It’s not as amazing as it sounds.  When you’re up that high, it’s really cold, the wind is strong enough to blow you away, and it gets hard to breathe.”

 

Shana, not giving Geira’s warning any mind, stares at the distant city of Ostia.  Its towering walls, invisible from within the forest, seem to grow taller with each passing moment.  Despite the three of them already being high above the trees, those walls are even higher.  They’re so massive, she can’t even make out the city being protected behind them.  Instead, all she sees is a jarring, out of place, gray tower forced between a verdant sea and the blue sea.

 

Those walls, in her opinion, are a true feat of magic engineering. However, there is one thing she can’t understand about them.  “Why are those walls so ridiculously high?  Heck, they’re even taller than the ones at the capital.”

 

Geira makes a face at Shana’s question.  Internally, she questions Shana’s capabilities with magic, but she answers without letting any of it seep into her voice.  “They’re not, we’re actually soaring above them.  That’s merely the illusion generated by the barrier.”

 

Shana grows silent at the reply.  After a few moments, she grumbles out, “…Well, I feel cheated.”

 

Geira laughs, much to Shana’s frustration, and continues, “I’m guessing you don’t have barriers like that in Ponamu?  They deter attacks and give the people peace of mind.  Honestly though, Ostia is over doing it.  Illusions this imposing are just for showing off affluence.”

 

Shana examines the “wall,” but can’t find anything to suggest it isn’t an illusion.  No matter how long she stares, all she sees is a solid “stone wall.”  When Vor lands by the front gate, the first thing she does upon sliding off his back is zip over to touch it. Still, all she feels under her fingers is “rugged concrete.”

 

The guards rush over to seize her, but stop at Geira’s warning.  Then, upon seeing the girl is merely rubbing her hand over the wall without doing anything else, they exchange baffled looks.  They then turn to Geira who shrugs and shakes her head.  After a bit longer, she says, “Shana, what are you doing?  Everyone is staring.”

 

Shana knocks on the “concrete wall” before then spinning around.  Her voluminous hair flutters and wraps around her face where she is once more forced to part it away.  Even when she slides a hand underneath it to lift it aside, a lock drapes down and hooks around her cheek, illuminating the marvel shining from her eyes and smile.  “This barrier is amazing.  It magnifies its authenticity by adopting the properties of the wall underneath it.”

 

Geira sighs.  “What are you talking about?  There is no wall.  That’s 100 percent barrier.”

 

Thea is the only one who notices the guard captain reach for his sword at Shana’s remark.  Realizing that Shana might have breached upon a sensitive topic, she says, “More importantly, Geira, Shana still needs new clothes.  Wearing that shirt is probably starting to get painful for her chest.”

 

Shana is taken aback by the comment and cups a part of her chest with a hand.  “Well, it kinda is… But it’s because of my shirt?”

 

Geira slaps her forehead at Shana mindlessly accentuating one of her assets.  While the watching guards try to get a better look, she has Vor trot over to the girl and hoists her side saddle onto her lap.  With Shana sandwiched between herself and Thea, she marches Vor through the gate.

 

Thea, shifting forward to make room for Shana, is shocked at how smoothly they are entering the city.  “But… don’t we need to check in?”

 

Geira chuckles and says, “Did you forget?  I’m a Valkyrja.  Being with me gets you all a face pass.”

 

Then, as Geira continues to have Vor trot down the street, Shana looks back at the wall.  Unlike the impossible height it had from the outside, they are roughly 7 stories tall.  Despite Geira’s claims that they are entirely illusionary, Shana suspects that is the true wall.

 

After a bit, Thea turns and says, “Shana, was that mana inference?”

 

Shana pauses at the question.  She repeats the word to herself before then saying, “You mean my mana pulse reading?  What you said sounds way better.”

 

Geira frowns at Shana’s abstained denial.  “Mana inference is a highly advanced technique that requires both mastery over various types of magic and an intimate familiarity with mana that can only be born with years of spell casting.”

 

A grin spreads crosses Shana’s face at Geira’s accusation.  Mana inference is a technique she accidentally discovered on her own.  Nothing suggesting even its existence was written anywhere in her academy’s archives.  Attempts to teach it to others also ended in failure.  While many wrote it off as her just being special, she theorized it stemmed more from everyone’s dependence on specialization.  Never did she expect the answer to be treated as common knowledge.  It reaffirms her suspicion that her sudden arrival in that land might actually be a blessing in disguise, once she finds a way to return home anyway.

 

Delighted, she gestures to herself, her fingers fluttering with a ballerina’s grace as they lay over her chest.  “My body… when it comes to mana, it’s a bit special.”

 

Geira rolls her eyes, thinking Shana is merely messing around.  “Right, and you also happen to be a master magician?”

 

Shana’s glee turns into unabashed confidence.  “I’m first rate.”

 

Geira looks Shana over, pausing at her modest breasts.  The girl’s slender hips have already proven themselves firm and filling within her lap. “I wouldn’t exactly call you first rate, but you are an alluring gem.”

 

Shana turns her head at the compliment.  Unable to make sense of it, she stares at Geira for a follow up, but all she gets is a sly grin. 

 

She soon gives up and settles for taking in the city.  Everyone they pass either wears a protective amulet or gemstone somewhere on their person.  The women tend to wear them as centerpieces for which their outfits are based around.  In some cases the arrangements reinforce the protective spells, but in others they weaken them.  The sight is as she expected, but she can't stop herself from being awed by the open display of magic.

 

More surprising are the shops.  They are grander and larger than expected, but she soon realizes that magic has probably been used at every single step from producing the building materials and transporting them, to putting the materials in place and fortifying what was created.  Even the towering 10 story, glass covered, building with self-opening doors loses its awe as she mentally pictures what its construction must have been like.

 

Another self-opening door on a different building, however, gets her thinking. The more samples she sees, the more confused she gets.  She pushes herself off Vor, but Geira’s hand swoops down before she can finish sliding off and catches her by the stomach.

 

Geira’s head turns towards Shana as she sets the girl back in place.  She keeps a firm grip on the girl’s side as her eyes lock onto her.  Then, with annoyance lacing her voice, she says, “And where do you think you’re going?” 

 

Shana, with her investigation denied to her, says, “How do those sliding doors work?”  She settles for the fastest, but less satisfying, method of acquiring her answer.

 

Geira stares for a moment, trying to make sense of Shana’s question, and gives a deadpan, “What?”
“Those doors keep sliding open.  How do they work?”

Geira continues to stare before saying, “You’re joking…”
“No, really.”

 

Doubt laces Thea’s voice as she says, “You didn’t have them where you’re from?”
“Nothing like that.”

 

“What kind- Ahm,” Geira clears her throat, catching herself before she could start to berate the lack of magical development of Shana’s home.  “You can’t take a guess?”

 

Shana shrugs, “I want to say there is a magical field in front of the door with the instruction to open the door whenever someone enters its space, but not only would something like that be ridiculously complex, it’s incomplete.  Those doors clearly distinguish humans from animals and intention.  They only open when someone wants to enter.  Unless it’s for some sort of test, or to show off, no one is going to weave together such intricate magic for a task that mundane.”

 

Geira chuckles and says, “So much for being first rate.”

 

Shana pauses, somewhat annoyed she isn’t receiving an answer, and says, “No helping it, magic went down a different route where I’m from.”

 

Geira’s glee deepens at the impatience growing on Shana’s face.  Wanting to see more, she says, “It’s actually quite basic.”
“You have no intention of telling me, do you?”
“Oh, come on.  Show us you can live up to your title of first rate.”

“Then let me go investigate one.”
“No can do, you are staying right here where I can see you.”
“I will push you off this horse.”

 

Thea, feeling needles crawling up her skin at their back and forth, gives a meek, “I would like to know too…”

 

Geira looks at Thea in surprise.  Wondering if she took her teasing too far, she sighs and says, “They aren’t real.”

 

Shana blanks at the explanation.  Her head flicks in the direction of an opening door where she then watches someone enter a building.  The door then slides shut behind the person.  “What?”

 

Geira adopts the tone of a teacher and says, “I mean just that.  Those doors aren’t real, they’re just a combination of illusion magic and barrier magic.  The illusion shapes the barrier.  Doorways naturally have doors.  You know that, I know that, everyone knows that.  Therefore, when we see the barrier, we see a door.  And because we know doors open, they will open as long as we have the desire for them to be opened.  They open for people because, who would be so careless as to allow any exceptions to that?”

 

Shana jumps off Vor’s back. Her skirt billows behind her but it is jolted down as Geira, again, catches her by the stomach and once more forces the girl onto her lap.  “We have some at the temple.  You can investigate them to your heart's content later tonight, so quit trying to run off.”

 

Shana clicks her tongue, but instead of complaining, falls into thought.  Illusion magic isn’t a discipline she is well versed in, but what Geira explained goes more than a step further than anything she is familiar with.  A strong enough illusion can influence the real world, but for thoughts to influence the illusion in turn sounds more like quantum physics than psychology.

 

While lost in thought, she gives a semi-distracted, “Thanks, Thea.”

 

“Hey, shouldn’t you be thanking me!?”

 

Shana doesn’t even glance at the Valkyrja, instead returning her attention to examining the automated doors they pass by.  At the same time, she says, “Like hell I’ll thank you.  You only said anything cause Thea asked.”

 

After some time, Vor trots through a gate and up to a large, stone, temple.  Unlike the sleek, surrounding buildings, it has a rugged appearance and was constructed by stacking cold grey rocks atop of one another.  Its weathered appearance, developed over countless storms, gives it a grave solemness.  As they enter its large courtyard, Thea says, “You aren’t taking us to the main temple?”

 

“There’s no need to go all the way to the center of this city.”  Geira then winks as she adds, “Besides, I’m the one asking the questions.”

 

Attendants soon appear to help the three off Vor.  Only when Geira shakes Shana does she return from her thoughts and realize a hand is being held up to her. The woman offering her hand to Shana looks reluctant, but is keeping it to herself.  Shana just stares at the hand, confused for a moment, but ignores it and slides off Vor on her own.

 

Getting up, she presses her hands against her lower back for a light stretch. Then, ignoring the soreness around her legs from riding on Vor, she steps away to give space for Thea and Geira to be helped off.  That is when she notices men are standing ready a bit of a distance away.  Suspecting something, she glances back to Vor and confirms that attendants helping are all women.

 

“Seriously, what a stupid horse…”

 

Geira, overhearing Shana’s muttering, frowns as she says, “Come again?”  

 

Shana gestures at the surrounding men with her head.  With a deadpan tone, she says, “They keeping their distance for a reason?”

 

Geira averts her eyes at Shana’s question.  That Thea is curiously listening as well makes her more reluctant to answer.  After some time, she clicks her tongue and grabs Thea’s hand.  She then reaches for Shana’s while saying, “Come on, let’s eat and get washed up for bed.  We can save everything else for tomorrow.”

 

While Thea was slow to evade Geira’s grasp, Shana isn’t.  She twists out of the way with nimble footwork and says, “Lead the way, I can walk.”

 

With the words, “Whatever, let’s go,” Geira brings the two into the temple, leaving Vor and her belongings to the attendants.

 

The first room they enter is an armory.  Lining the walls are racks of weapons ranging from swords, pole arms, and maces along with shields of various shapes and sizes such as bucklers and kite shields.  They are polished and organized.  The floor, however, is a mess.  Various types of metal, leather, and cloth armor lay strewn about.  Getting to the door on the other side is almost like trying to navigate a maze.

 

Geira sighs at the sight and says, “With everything that’s happening, we’re a bit stretched thin.  Everything unessential keeps getting pushed off for later and this is the result.”

 

Confusion fills Thea’s face as she says, “Armor is unessential?”

 

Geira chuckles.  “Sure, it’s useful against smaller creatures like orcs and goblins, but that’s it.  Go against something like a minotaur, and you’ll only end up being weighed down.”

 

Shana pauses and bends down to pick up a small pair of metallic wings.  They are designed with cup like shapes and are held together by two thin straps of cloth.  A short one lays directly between them while a longer one loops around behind them.  The cups themselves are lined with soft fur and can be hooked together with a small latch on the small cloth between.  “I can’t see these being useful for anything.”

 

“That armor is for when we’re giving demonstrations to the public.” Geira then grins as she tosses over a bright red triangular cloth from a shelf.  It is made of a sort of metal thread, one that is both soft to touch but turns firm wherever it is flicked.  “That red one is for your bottom, the wings are for your chest.  Try them on.  Together with that sword of yours, you’ll look hot.”

 

Shana blanches with disgust and tosses the useless armor aside.

 

Geira laughs and says, “Your loss,” before taking the two further inside the temple. 

 

Entering the hallway gives Shana the sensation of having entered a wooden ship.  She didn’t notice within the armory, but the floor, walls, and ceiling are all made of wood.  The glowing, orange, stones placed along the walls for illumination are the closest that come to décor.  Yet despite the barren state of it all, a warm, cozy, feeling permeates the area.

 

The passage soon gives way to a vast room containing a massive marble mural.  That room, larger than the armory, seems to have been specifically made to house it.  Carved out and painted on it is a massive tree.  An eagle rests on a branch, a stag stands by the trunk, and a serpent slithers over the roots. Despite the depiction, Shana finds the whole thing an exquisite testament to greco-roman culture.

 

That brusque fusion of culture brings something else to Shana’s attention.  She didn’t have time to dwell on the matter earlier with everything that was happening, but now that she has a moment to think, it’s starting to eat at her.  She looks to Geira and says, “Why do you have a pegasus?”

 

Thea frowns as she tries to make sense of the question.  “Shana, what are you talking about? Valkyrja have always ridden pegasus.”

Shana shakes her head.  “No, no, the original Pegasus was sired by Poseidon.  Hellenic, not Norse.”  She then points at the mural.  “Same with this conundrum.”

 

Geira's shock at Shana’s knowledge is to the point that it seeps into her voice.  “First, his name is Fraujaz Neptune.  But more importantly, how do you know that?  That’s something only the most ancient of texts mention.”

 

Thea is taken aback by the outburst.  Her hair floats as her head flicks towards Geira in disbelief, but then she hesitates.  She wants to ask but isn’t sure she should.  After struggling over whether she should or shouldn’t, she manages a quiet, “That’s true?”

 

Geira clears her throat.  While she is shocked that Shana of all people knows such a deep piece of history, answering such questions is also one of her duties.  She looks between the two girls and says, “Long ago, as you know, the gods warred against one another.  They were reaching a point of no return and they all knew it.  Fraujaz Jupiter, in an attempt to avert annihilation, offered a herd of pegasus to the Allfather and he with all his wisdom accepted.”

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A/N: I have been working on this story for quite a while.  A lot happened where I would write and stop and write and stop and write again, but now that it is finished, I want to post it and see how it goes.  Let me know what you think.

~Gandire Alea

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