Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Within the villa of the city’s Legatus, five cups of warm tea sit ready on a table within the private quarters of Lucius.  As appropriate for the Legatus’ son, the room is furnished with rugs, sofas with silk cushions, and furniture carved from wood of Yggdrasil.

 

A maid opens the door to the room and in enter Faustina, Ariel, Lucius, Antoninus, and Zachary.  While Faustina waits by the table for someone to draw her seat, Ariel grabs a cup, downs the tea, and plops down on one of the seven sofas.

 

Faustina is aghast by the sloven behavior.  She ignores the seat Zachary pulls for her and heads over to reprimand the Apostle.  Her expression is stern as she mentally prepares a lecture on the proper courtesy a lady must display.

 

Ariel waits for the heavy footsteps to stop before saying, “Oh, give it a rest.  We’ve been dragged all over and I’m dead tired.”

 

Faustina is caught with the words in her throat, but is more taken aback by what she just heard than anything else.  “You’re dead?  No, what do you mean, ‘dead’?”

 

Zachary laughs out from the table.  He was reaching for his tea, but stops to instead say, “No, no, no, ‘dead tired’ is an expression.  It means something like being so tired that it’s like she’s dead.”

 

Faustina makes a face at explanation.  Irritation laces her voice as she says, “While some of the expressions from your world are clever, this one would have been better off left there.”

 

“Too late, I’ve already brought it over.  Deal with it.”

 

Faustina yanks the pillow from underneath Ariel’s head and smacks her with it.

 

A wry smile crosses Antoninus’ face upon seeing his sister lose her composure.  Not even two months have passed since the Apostles were brought to their world, but Faustina has taken quite well to Ariel.  At the very least, she wouldn’t treat such a distinguished person so crudely otherwise.

 

Lucius, picking up on the thoughts of Antoninus, chuckles.  His hand brushes some hair away from his eye as he recalls the stories his mother used to tell him.  “I heard that my ancestor also frustrated his wife to no end.  There were many things he couldn’t, and sometimes outright refused, to adjust to.”

 

Antoninus turns to Zachary and says, “You’ve done quite well in that regard.”

 

Zachary gives a nonchalant shrug.  “I’m just more used to this than Ari.  Attending meetings, giving speeches, organizing events, etc.”

 

Ariel snatches the pillow back from Faustina and flings it at Zachary.  “Quit bragging about being an eagle scout.”

 

“I was also on the debate team.”

 

Ariel stares at Zachary before saying, “Don’t make me come over there.”

 

“And do what? Glare me to death?”

 

“That would be a curse.”  Lucius then sets down his cup of tea and says, “Do you two ever stop bickering?”

 

Antoninus says, “You mean outside of the public view?  Dead never.”

 

Faustina makes a face at her brother’s appropriation of the word.  Ariel, however, sighs and gives a gentle shake of her head.  “That’s not how you use it, Antony.”

 

Antoninus gazes at her and warmly says, “Teach it to me later.”

 

Ariel doesn’t answer, instead giving him a shy smile.

 

Zachary rolls his eyes and says, “So, Geira was a bust.  Were you able to find that Julia person?”

 

“Julia has proven to be useless.”  Lucius speaks with a sharp tone.  With annoyance and disappointment lacing his words, he adds, “I received a report earlier that she lost a match to a lupa.  Clearly, her lavish reputation as an exceptional sell sword is ill deserved.”

 

Ariel says, “Actually, wasn’t that girl from earlier a Daughter of the Dreaded One?  I thought for sure we were going to apprehend her.  Why did we let her go?”

 

Lucius sighs at the question.  “To be honest, that would have been the simplest and cleanest solution.  Unfortunately, that Valkyrja has taken her under her protection.  To do anything now could cause a rift with an entire pantheon, and she knows it.”

 

“So then, what do we do?”

 

Lucius shrugs as he says, “Nothing.  Valkyrja aren’t fools.  Once that defututa puella’s true nature is revealed, everything will fall into place.”

 

Antoninus says, “That said, the current situation isn’t all that bad.  That caenum might be running free, but everything she does is under trustworthy surveillance.”

 

Ariel turns away and grips her knees.  “I don’t like it.  We have one right there, and we’re not doing anything about it.”

 

“Do not worry.”  Faustina places a hand upon her shoulder.  “We need to wait for a bit, but this situation is completely under control.  Knowing when and how to act is also an important duty for Apostles.”

 

Lightning flashes and thunder rattles the room.  Paintings fall from the walls and glass ornaments shatter as they drop against the ground.  As everyone jumps with shock, they realize the shaking still continues.  The entire city sways as rain and hail fall from the sky.

 

Zachary is the first to react.  He scrambles for a window, losing balance and tripping more than once.  Thunder deafens and disorients him as he semi collapses against the window frame.  In the time he needs to rebalance himself, he is drenched by the pelting water.  While struggling against the howling wind to shut the window, he shouts as loud as he can.  “The hell did all this come from!?  There wasn’t a damn cloud in the sky five minutes ago!” 

 

Faustina is soon by his side. Together, after she strengthens both of themselves with magic, they eventually succeed in closing the window.  Without pausing to catch their breath, they move on to the next one.

 

Once all the windows are shut, Lucius runs a hand through his dripping wet, golden blond hair to get it out of his face.  He, like all the others, is panting and soaked.  Then, as the ground rumbles once more, he says, “This isn’t a normal earthquake.”

 

Ariel snaps at his remark.  “Oh, ‘cause earthquakes are totally normal!”  Then, as if summoned, the city jolts again.

 

Antoninus tenses and relaxes with the quake.  He then shakes his head and says, “Earthquakes happen.  They’re a normal part of the planet’s geological process.  Right now… I dare claim Dominus Neptune is locked in fierce battle.”

 

Lucius’ expression is grim.  “This is much sooner than we intended for, but everyone, be prepared.  Those of the Dreaded One have come to greet us.  I refuse to extend them any hospitality.”

 

***

 

Shana tugs at the short hems of the sky blue, silk, robe she donned after emerging from the bath.  The way it clings against her body's curves thanks to the dampness of her skin is further accentuated by the flow of cherry blossoms decorating the fabric.  A loosely tied sash coming from around both sides of her back is all that keeps it together.  If not because it would have left her completely exposed, she wouldn’t have bothered tying it.

 

All she wanted were shorts like the one Geira lent her the previous night.  She already has plenty of shirts she can choose from, even if they are all oversized.  Geira, however, refused to budge on her sleep wear.  Her irritating words from the store still echo within her mind.  “Covering your thighs anymore than this is a sin.”

 

That thought makes her conscious of how the smooth fabric brushes against her bare legs each time she moves.  It isn’t a feeling she can get used to.  Worse, each step she takes creates a strange sense of vulnerability.  For now, though, all she can do is bear with it. 

 

While holding the front of her robe down, she heads to the room she is sharing with the others.  From outside the door, she hears Thea arguing with Geira.

 

“No, I’m not staying.”
“Thea, it’s raining sideways out there.  Once Fraujaz Neptune finishes, I—”
“That’ll be too late!”
“Thea, I promise, I’ll escort you both to wherever it is you want to go.”
“Once Shana gets back, we’re leaving!”

 

Shana is thrown for a loop by the argument.  Not even 20 minutes have passed since she separated from them to wash herself.  Geira had tried to force a group bath between three of them, but she literally threw the Valkyrja out of the room.  Regardless, she doubts that is the reason Thea is in a panic to leave.

 

The only other things that comes to mind are the crazy thunderstorm that appeared out of nowhere and those freak earthquakes.  Apparently, the gods are behind it, but that does little to explain the sense of discomfort and wrongness she has been feeling creeping around.

 

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“Wait, wait, wait,” Shana enters the room with those words.  “Why are we leaving?”

 

Thea is shocked by Shana’s calm and confused tone.  She goes up to Shana and grabs her shoulders.  Desperation fills her voice as she says, “What do you mean, ‘why’?  We can’t stay here any longer!”

 

Shana glances to Geira, but the Valkyrja merely shakes her head and sighs at her cluelessness about the current situation.  Thea, however, is pleading for her to understand.  The girl is trembling where she stands, her eyes brimming with tears.

 

Instinct takes over.  Shana takes Thea’s hands and guides her onto the larger bed.  Then, while continuing to hold her hands, she looks straight into Thea’s eyes and adopts the same soothing tone she recalls her mother using on her long ago.  “It’s alright, you’re alright.  Nothing is going to hurt you.  Why is it we can’t stay here?  Where is it you want to go?”

 

Thea throws herself in Shana.  Her arms collapse against her chest as she grabs her shoulders.  “They’re coming! How do you not know this?  We’re in danger!  We can’t stay here!”  Another earthquake shakes the city as if to emphasize her fears.

 

Geira places a reassuring hand upon Thea’s shoulder.  “Fraujaz Neptune is fighting this danger himself.  Dux Lucius, the Princeps' children, the Pramodan Lotus, and the Apostles are here.  I guarantee they are all leading the forces of Ostia to confront the Dreaded One’s reach.  In fact, many from this temple have also taken up arms to join the fight.  Come morning, I give you my word, I shall deliver both you and Shana away from this city come rain or hail.  Right now, however, here is the safest place you can be.”

 

Thea takes in a deep breath and exhales.  She doesn’t say anything, but her reluctant agreement is clear.  Afterwards, she continues to cling to Shana.  She is adamant in refusing to separate from her.

 

Shana glances at Geira.  While she has a few guesses to what is going on, there is still a lot she doesn’t understand.  However, the question most curious on her mind is, “Shouldn’t you be out there too?”

 

“My duty is to protect the two of you.”  Geira then notices Shana’s hair and clicks her tongue.  “Thinking about it, your hair was a complete disaster today.  Viren is either blind or has extremely good eyes.  Why haven’t you straightened out that bird’s nest you call hair yet?”
“Pass, that’s way too much of a pain.  Besides, I’m a bit busy here.”

 

Without a word, Geira crawls onto the bed and slides up behind Shana. She ignores the smaller girl’s warnings to get away and, while grabbing her own brush, places a hand upon Shana’s head.  Shana goes to push Geira away, but finds she can’t, not without dropping Thea who seems to have fallen asleep in her arms.

 

A second later and Geira runs the brush down Shana’s damp hair.  It barely moves two centimeters when the knots stop the movement short.  Shana tries to pull her head free, but Geira secures her grip and forces the brush down.

 

“Ow!  That hurt!”
“Quit, squirming so much.”
“Get out of, ow! my hair!”
“It wouldn’t, hurt, so much, if you actually, brushed it.”
“Leave my, ow! hair alone!”
“Take better care of it.” 

“This has nothing, ow! to do with you!”

 

Geira stops as she narrows her eyes in disapproval.  “You might be too lazy to bother, but I refuse to let your cute looks go to waste.”  Then, while ignoring all of Shana’s complaints, she resumes smoothing out her hair.  Natural waviness keeps it from being fully straight upon finishing, but at least now it no longer resembles a cat dragged in from a typhoon.

 

Then, while sliding her fingers through the smaller girl’s hair, she says, “I’m so jealous.  Your hair is much softer and smoother than I would have imagined.”  More surprising is that Shana’s hair is also already mostly dry.  “Do you know a spell for drying hair?  You should stop using it.”

 

Shana, still in the same position from when that all started, chooses to ignore her.  Instead, she also runs a hand through her hair.  It’s almost as if she is confirming that it is all still there. 

 

Geira makes a wry smile at Shana’s attitude.  Then, acting as if she hasn’t noticed, she adds, “Still, it is really convenient.  I’d have you teach it to me at all costs if I could use magic.”

 

Shana continues to sulk while holding Thea with both arms.

 

“More importantly, you’re going to need to brush your hair again in the morning.  If you’d lik—”
“Touch my hair again and I’ll rip off your arms.”

 

Geira chuckles at Shana’s interruption.  “Well, let’s get to sleep.  Seeing that you can’t move, I take you’ll be sleeping with us tonight?”

 

Shana makes a face but can’t bring herself to set Thea aside.  Her panicked and tearful expression from earlier pervades her mind at the thought.  Furthermore, she doesn’t want to admit it, but the unease and wrongness that started with the storm is really bothering her.  Being there between Thea and Geira is very reassuring.  Therefore, despite her discomfort, she says, “It can’t be helped.”

 

Then, before Geira can comment, she adds, “You’re sleeping opposite of her.”

 

“What?  No, I wanted to sleep in the middle.  A flower resting in both my arms.”

 

Shana ignores the pandering and settles down with her back to the wall.  “You said you’re going to protect us, right?  So protect us.”  Then, while still holding Thea tight, she gets the blanket over both of them and closes her eyes.

 

Geira can only say, “Shana?  Shana!  Come on, don’t exclude me like this…”  Unable to do anything else, she turns out the lights and also climbs into bed.  Unlike the other two, she is all on her lonesome.

 

With the lights off, Shana opens her eyes and confirms that Geira isn’t doing anything.  Satisfied that the Valkyrja is sleeping with her back to them, she glances down at Thea.  The tranquility on the girl's face is a complete change from earlier.  She is fairly certain this all has something to do with her being a Daughter of the Dreaded One, but lacks too much knowledge to truly understand what that epitaph entails.

 

As Shana thinks of her “blood-sister,” her thoughts come to a jarring stop.  Something strange has come over her.  While she did create a connection with Thea by consuming the girl’s blood the other day, that does not explain her comforting her.  She has never been such an empathetic person.  The moments she has shared with her own actual younger sister have never been anywhere close to the gentleness she just exhibited.  If it wasn’t because she was herself, she’d have been wondering if someone had replaced her.

 

Thea, stirring, finds comfort in hearing Shana’s breathing.  It relaxes her and helps her drift back to sleep.  She was terrified beyond belief earlier, she still is, but is no longer suffocating under it.  The ease Shana carries herself with and the lack of reservation Geira holds towards her are nothing like she’s ever experienced before.  She half wonders if she isn’t just hallucinating the whole thing.

 

Remembering the silly argument the two of them even got into eases a smile onto her face.  She decides to put confidence in their words and trusts tomorrow will come.  With that heavy burden lifted from her heart, she moves closer to Shana and joins her in sleep.

 

******

 

Zachary’s sword shakes within his hand.  When he went into that battle, he had imagined he’d crush his enemies by calling forth hail the size of minivans from the heavens.  Then, against the ones who did manage to get close, he’d freeze them into ice sculptures with cuts of his sword.

 

Nothing is going as he expected.  His magic isn’t working.  He can feel his mana coursing through his body, waiting to be molded into a spell, but whenever it comes to casting a spell, nothing.  He can’t even manifest an ice dagger, much less a single hail stone.  All he can do is squeeze his sword’s wet grip.

 

Under the street lights, chalk white “people” are crawling out of the ocean and river.  They pounce upon the legionaries with their long, thin, arms and drag them under the water.  Lucius has ordered for everyone to fall back away from the water, but many keep getting close during the heat of battle.  Those who were on the ships have already been dragged under.  Worse, following behind those pale “people” onto land are the “drowned” legionaries.  They continue to stumble out of the water, and maybe the battle is getting to him, but they all somehow appear a shade lighter than before.

 

Just breathing is hard.  He feels as though a lump is pressing down against his chest.  What is happening to those legionaries while submerged is something he doesn’t even want to guess at.  What he does know is that when they surface, they are no longer human.  He doesn’t know how, he just does.

 

“I’m going to die…”

 

A shaft from a ballista tears through one fallen legionary’s head.  The force of the shaft sends the man tumbling back into the water.  From what he can hear, the former legionary wasn’t the actual target.  It was whatever did that to him.

 

That’s when something grabs his ankle.  Looking down, he finds a child digging claws into his clothes.  She’s climbing up and reaching for his face.  The darkness of night does little to hide the anguish on her face.

 

His arm moves on its own.

 

The next thing Zachary knows, he’s charging, screaming.  At some point, his sword snaps.  The next moment, he is swinging some other sword.  He has no idea where it came from, but the only thing on his mind is to swing it at anything that moves.  Never do those little hands stop gripping onto his legs.

He only stops swinging at the gentle touch of a hand.  The warmth it carries captures his wandering mind.  Returning to his senses, he drops onto the ground and vomits.  Whatever it was he was fight just looks like a lump of meat.   Despite his coughing, Faustina’s soothing voice reaches him.  “The gallantry you displayed in your first battle was truly captivating.  Despite your fear, you swung your sword without hesitation, saving the lives of countless legionaries.”

 

Zachary, feeling a tug, looks to his feet, yet nothing is there.  There are no hands, there is no little girl.  It’s then he realizes that the sun is bathing him with its morning light.  Countless bodies lay all around and he is covered in blood.  “I barely remember a thing.  I completely freaked out...”

 

Faustina smiles at the mysterious phrase, but can more or less discern its meaning.  “Yes, and in that hour of desperation, you chose to fight.  A weak man would have run and hid.  I will admit, we had intended for you and Ariel to slowly accustom yourselves to battle.  This should have never happened.  Yet, now that it has, we can all say with certainty that you are our Apostles, our beacons of hope for our darkest hour.”

 

Zachary grits his teeth at Faustina’s words.  He wants to take them and shove them down her throat, but one phrase stands out.  He didn’t run away.  That was his biggest fear since becoming an Apostle and he doubts anything in the future will ever compare to that night.

 

He sits back and looks into Faustina’s golden eyes.  With a self-depreciative chuckle, he says, “Gallant?  I must have been running around like a madman.”

 

Faustina merely smiles back at him and rises.  “Come, let us get cleaned up.  Our duty here is finished.”

 

Rising, Zachary glances back down at his legs.  Whenever he looks away, those tugs return.  He wonders if they’ll ever stop.

---

A/N: Please let me know what you think about this chapter and the characters~

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