The afternoon following their first night traveling, Ceres stretched off to the side of the caravan. Clean air swelled in her lungs as she moved through the motions of her [Magic Knight] training, and birdsong filled the air.
Nyarlothep was beautiful.
It seemed so impossibly untouched by the Defiled threat. The forests were dense and teeming with life. No billowing towers of smoke or the constant scent of flames on the air. Those who watched their camp at night were always at ease, explaining that the watch was more for the travelers’ comfort than necessity.
This is what I want for Shi. Listening to Sir Matt and Sir Cailu converse had reignited the spark of hope that she may one day restore her home.
“Ceres,” Keke called, jogging to Ceres’s side. “Can we talk?”
Ceres paused her forms, shifting to stand at attention. “What is it?”
Keke bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. Content with her findings, she turned back to Ceres and lowered her voice. “You have to switch places with me. I’m losing my mind.”
Ceres tilted her head to the side. “Forgive me, but what do you mean?”
“In the wagons. Please let me take your spot,” Keke continued. Her words were strung together in one quick breath. “I don’t know what happened. Zahra’s barely speaking. Kirti’s…being Kirti. I could cut through that tension with a knife.”
“Oh. I see.” But my time with the men! Ceres knew the tiny voice that echoed in her ears was illogical and unkind. It was the same voice that reveled in battle and insisted upon acting on instinct. Look at Keke. She is clearly distraught. Keke’s dark hair was disheveled, and she wore a worrying frown. “Keke, perhaps Sir Cailu—”
Keke shook her head and pitched her voice down. “‘I must speak with Matt on important matters.’ And then he ignored me.”
Ceres couldn’t help but smile at the dramatization.
“Might I make a suggestion?” a new voice joined the fold.
They turned to greet the newcomer. A young woman with deep blue hair that swirled around her shoulders in the afternoon breeze and sapphire eyes that glittered in the sun performed a polite bow. Ceres recognized her as one of the guards in their caravan. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
Eavesdropping, are we? Keke had spoken lightly—the guard would have had to strain to listen. A flash of excitement tickled the end of Ceres’s tail. What was it that you were listening for? “It is no trouble at all.”
“Where are my manners? My name is Lucia.” Lucia straightened and smiled. “I take point on the first carriage and have ample room for a companion.” Her warm gaze lingered on Ceres as she spoke. “If Lady Ceres would honor me with her company, it seems that would solve your quandary.”
Keke looked back at Ceres, her golden eyes brimming with her silent plea.
Ceres glanced between them, then nodded. As much as removing herself from the conversations between Sir Matt and Sir Cailu pained her, Ceres’s curiosity won the battle. “It is likely that I would benefit from fresh air for a time.”
Keke clamped her hands around Ceres’s bracer. “You’re the best. Thank you.” She nodded at Lucia. “And thank you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Lucia said with another bow.
“I’ll let Matt know what’s going on,” Keke said. She left them alone, a new spring in her step as she departed.
Ceres studied Lucia for a few quiet moments. The guard was stunning, fitted in expensive travel leathers that clung to her curves and moved as if they were part of her form. But beyond appearances, Ceres found Lucia’s mannerisms and word choice achingly familiar. “Forgive me for asking, but have we met?”
“No. However…” Lucia smiled, then murmured, “[Civilian Mode].” Her leathers glowed a vivid blue and were soon replaced by a high-necked, long-sleeved dress with silver buttons that rested over ankle-high boots. A white apron with two thin straps and gathered edges hugged tightly to her waist and flowed free over midnight blue skirts. Silver embroidery decorated the edges of her apron and ribbon in intricate floral patterns. Her loose hair was tied back from her face with a white satin ribbon.
Ceres feared that her chin would strike the ground. “Anyona.”
“Correct, my lady.” Lucia bowed again. “It may be foolish of me to ask, but I’d hoped we could speak of home.”
Nostalgia clutched Ceres’s heart and held her breath. Shi Island… Lucia’s home…
Ceres’s discomfort must have shown plainly on her face. Lucia’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “My lady—”
“Lucia, you may call me Ceres. Please.”
Lucia smiled, though sadness crossed her features. “Ceres, I know what’s become of Anyona. What I meant was, well… I hoped to reminisce a bit. If you’ll humor me.”
“O-Of course!” Ceres stammered. It only stood to reason that she would meet others from her island on Nyarlothep. And yet, that knowledge did not quell her excitement nor diminish her desire to bombard Lucia with questions. There was so much she wished to know. “I would—”
“Lucia! Let’s go!” One of the other guards called. “Everyone’s ready!”
“One moment!” Lucia called back, then whispered, “[Combat Mode].” Her wavy hair loosened from its bow and cascaded down her shapely neck. Her combat equipment returned, and she brushed her hands over her thighs. “Shall we?”
“Yes, of course!” Ceres started, realizing her thoughts had drifted beyond the wagon. She only wishes to converse! Stop these ridiculous ideas.
Keke gave Ceres a tiny salute as she followed Cannoli, Sir Matt, and Sir Cailu into the carriage. Ceres reciprocated, stealing a glance at Zahra and Kirti. Kirti wore her bewildering smile while Zahra seemed to be searching for a place to rest her gaze. Ceres sighed and caught up to Lucia.
While another guard took her place on the rear edge of the carriage, Lucia stepped up on the front foothold of Sir Matt’s carriage, shuffled across the metal dash, then took a seat. She smiled and patted the cushioned leather beside her. Ceres followed suit, hopping up to take her place before Lucia grabbed the reins.
“Let’s move!” Lucia called, snapping the reins with a quick flick of her wrists. The grazing horses lifted their muzzles and laboriously began to trot along the dirt path.
Once they’d settled into a comfortable rhythm, Lucia relaxed her shoulders and smiled at Ceres. “Is this your first time outside of Shi Island?”
“Hm. I believe it is better to say this is my first time to Nyarlothep,” Ceres replied. “I left Shi Island months ago.”
“Oh?” Lucia blinked. “I recognize Cailu, but the man that’s with you, Matt. Is Shi Island not his?”
“Matt is from Ni.” Ceres laughed when Lucia favored her with a look of bewilderment. The expression was adorable. “It is a very long story. Shi Island’s man is currently assessing the problems that plague San Island.”
Lucia shook her head. “Goodness. That does sound like a long story.” She reached forward and adjusted the hem of one of her tall black boots, and her shirt dipped low on her chest.
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Ceres blushed and looked away. “S-So, Anyona,” she stammered. “If that is from where you hail, you must be a bit older than I am.”
“It does look that way. Though, you seem a lot more experienced than I am.” Lucia settled the reins in her lap. “You’re a [Magic Knight], right?”
“I am. I studied beneath the Knights of Sorentina.”
Lucia’s ears perked. “Under Lady Giselle?”
Ceres’s tail quickly ticked back and forth with excitement as she looked at Lucia. “Oh my goodness! Yes!”
Lucia squinted her eyes, masking her smile with a frown. “‘I’m going to grind you into the dirt!’ Saoirse help me, but that woman had claws,” she laughed.
“For me, it was much needed,” Ceres admitted. “Does this mean you are a [Magic Knight] as well?”
“No. I attempted the test four times. The Sword of Virtues never accepted me.” Lucia lulled her head back and stared up at the sky.
Ceres’s ears and tail drooped. She recalled the fear of rejection before her own test. If she was never chosen… “Oh, no. Lucia, my sincerest apologies.”
Lucia shrugged and looked at Ceres. “I accepted that it wasn’t my place, and so I followed a new path.”
“Have you resided in Nyarlothep since then?” Ceres asked.
“Sort of. I frequented the Guild Hall in Sorentina for many years, working as I do now. As a hired hand to protect travelers on their journeys. Then a merchant ship hired me to help escort them to Nyarlothep when a particularly horrid Defiled reared its fangs between Shi and the mainland. I fell in love with life here, so I chose to stay.”
“Did you not have an established life back on Shi?” Ceres wondered.
A mischievous smile twitched at the corner of Lucia’s lips. “Didn’t you?”
Ceres hoped the heat that rushed to her face was not apparent. She had left her own life behind when Sir Matt had appeared without a second thought. The draw to something greater was too powerful. Saoirse had gifted her with a chance to make a true difference in Nyarlea, and she had leaped in ears-first. “Right. That was a silly question.”
“I only jest, Ceres. I believe Saoirse blessed me with wandering feet. I’ve never been able to stay in one place for long.” Lucia reached out and touched Ceres’s hand. “Service, grace, and urgency shouldn’t condemn us to haunt a single doorway all our lives. We— ah!”
Ceres felt a tiny jolt beneath her skin where Lucia’s hand rested. As if a thousand wing beats from a firefly had triggered beneath Lucia’s fingertips. She twitched with surprise and cocked her head. “Was that you?”
Lucia’s cheeks turned a deep red, and she drew her hand away. “My affinity has a mind of its own.”
“Your affinity is lightning?” Ceres studied the back of her hand. There were no marks or signs that Lucia had activated her Magic. “That is quite rare.”
“So I’ve been told. Most of the time, I can control it. But sometimes…” Lucia gestured to Ceres. “Sometimes that happens.”
“It did not hurt at all,” Ceres murmured. It felt…exciting. She wondered how it would feel along her spine. Goodness! Contain yourself! “My affinity lies in ice.”
“An apt affinity for a [Magic Knight].” Lucia nodded, and her expression warmed as she considered Ceres. “I find ice Spells quite beautiful.”
Why is my heart beating so quickly? Ceres self-consciously touched her golden braid, unable to hold Lucia’s intense gaze. “So tell me, how many times were you assigned to kitchen duty while you trained?”
Lucia’s face lit up. “More than I can count! But we were always playing tricks on one another, so really, it was my own fault.”
“Oh? You must tell me more.” Ceres had believed herself alone with her love of antics—her father had certainly driven her to think so.
“Well, once, a catfish wandered into the dorms, and I took him in as a pet…”
The hours passed like minutes as they exchanged stories and laughter. Ceres found herself with tears in her eyes and an aching belly when Lucia relayed a joke she had played that had caught Lady Giselle by mistake.
Ceres wished the afternoon would never end. To meet someone so very like herself was as lovely and fresh as the afternoon breeze.
When they stopped for the evening, Ceres hopped down from the carriage and stretched. Before the others had exited the wagon, Lucia clamored down to Ceres’s side. Her eyes were wide, and she fretted her lower lip.
“Lucia?” Ceres’s heart skipped.
Lucia lifted herself on her toes and kissed Ceres’s cheek. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You would be welcome in my tent after dinner. If you want.”
A shiver slid down Ceres’s spine. “I… I would like that very much.”
Lucia sighed, relief blooming on her face, and she smiled. “See you soon, then.”
Ceres’s heartbeat hammered against her ears as she watched Lucia join the others in setting up for the evening’s meal and resting quarters.
See you soon.
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