by C. A. Sabol
“No, but I still think that if maybe you would just talk to the princess herself, there would be no need for that kind of surveillance,” Yana argued. “Have dinner with her, keep her close at your side. Act like her brother, for goodness sake. You cannot talk of war when you are with her anyway. Why not ask about how she is doing?”
“She will not always tell me!” Dorian exclaimed in frustration. “I cannot keep constant tabs on her the way you can.”
“Do not ask me to do such a thing without her knowing, then,” Yana asked. “I will do what my Lady asks of me, but I will not allow her to be subjected to unfair demands, Your Majesty ... even if they are from you.” Her eyes cast low, her head bowed in reverence. “Excuse me.” And then she exited the room.
Dorian waited until her footsteps disappeared down the hall to walk behind his desk and sit down. His mind stirred over how he had let her get the better of him in that argument. He couldn’t help but smirk. Though Lady Yana was quite pretty, she sure could be maddening. Dorian would not have thought that she would ever fight with him until today’s conversation.
“Well, Selene sure has a loyal crew,” he muttered bitterly as Yana’s parting words mulled over in his mind again and again. “I will have to speak with her about such a subject then.” He looked at the water clock and saw that it was almost time for him to go inspect the Fighters training sessions. “Perhaps later,” he decided. Reaching down in his bottom desk drawer, he pulled out a decanter of moonshine and took a long drink. The luminescent liquid burned on its way down, refreshing him. “I must go now.”
He did not notice that the rain outside had begun to fall harder down on the sandy earth.
RONAL HAD NOT HEARD that the king was coming to watch them that day. It was as he came into the training room that several of his friends and colleagues all came rushing up to him, eager to share the rumors and information.
“Hey, Ronal,” a younger boy, whose name was Austen, called out to him. “Did you hear the news?”
“What news?” Ronal asked, picking up his training uniform and grabbing a hold on some of his fighting equipment.
Austen’s young face was lit up with nervous excitement as he came over with a few of his friends in tow. “The king is coming today, to oversee our work.” A nervous laugh escaped him as he tried to appear levelheaded. “Word has it that he’s thinking of sending us overseas or into battle soon.”
“I doubt it,” Ronal retorted, nearing laughing himself. “Fighters like us don’t usually leave the city, even during war. My uncle was a Fighter during the Rebellion years ago. He and all the others were stationed in the city as a last line of defense.”
“That may be true,” another kid piped up, “But that was when there wasn’t so much technology available to the public. If Diamond City becomes a target, we could all be killed and that would leave the monarchy open to threats.”
“Oh, come on,” one more voice interjected. “We had Fighter pilots and skyfighters back then, too. Surely no one would be that thick to attack here again.”
Austen turned to face his friends behind him and said, “I’ll bet they’re thinking that if we go off into battle, the war would be over much sooner, since with all our advanced training and stuff we could easily kill any of our enemies.”
Ronal rolled his eyes and turned his attention away from the argument as he got ready for class. He secretly hoped that they would not leave the city, if only just because he did not want Cyerra to be worried about him. She was worried enough about the princess and her brother. Tightening his knuckle guards, he set his jaw determinedly. He did not want to go, but if he had to, he would stop at nothing to destroy the adversaries that got in his way. Being a Fighter meant that it was his duty to protect the crown and all the good it stood for. And so he would.
It was not too much longer before Master Norio called all the students to line up before practice. The king sauntered into the room in regal armor, his faction of guards positioned around him, all in matching suit.
Ronal could feel nearly every Fighter straighten and assume the proper posture. A small grin flickered on his face. There was no slacking off for today, that was for sure.
Master Norio made the announcements, calling the students entrusted to his training to acknowledge the sovereignty of the King. At once, all of the nearly two hundred students bowed respectfully.
“Arise,” Dorian instructed. When all eyes had turned to face him, he put on his most solemn face and continued. “Your Master Norio has kindly allowed me to take over your class for today. I am not going to be teaching you anything, but I will want to see what you have learned. I have decided, along with the approval of the Council of Judges, that there will be several legions of Fighters deployed throughout the world.”
There was a wave of murmurs in the crowd at his words, but Dorian did not allow it to affect him. He raised his voice slightly and said further, “The younger ones who are still in training will not be leaving the palace, not for quite some time yet. The war has only just started, merely a month ago. The rainy season has come, and we are all suffering in some way. Already there is much causality on both sides. But there is a price to pay for peace and we all know it. There is a price for freedom, and we all know that as well. Men, understand that I ask of you something that I have no right to ask. The decision to go or to stay rests entirely on your hearts. The cost is great, but the reward is greater.”
Dorian looked around the room and said, “Who would like to be tested first?”
One by one the rows of boys all looked at each other. No one seemed to know what to do; the shock of their eventual departure seemed to have rattled them all. Fighters had not been sent out of the city since the Great Wars of the Ancient Days.
Dorian asked again, “Who would be the first to be tested?”
Ronal stepped forward. “I will, Your Majesty,” he said. Ronal did not feel as brave as he sounded. But he knew that his fellow students needed someone else to take the first step in this case. Ronal also knew that if Etoileon had been present, he would have stepped forward without a second thought.
Dorian walked over to him and looked at him. The room was silent. No one dared breath loudly or speak a word as the king looked down at his willing servant. “I’ve seen you before,” the king said softly. “You were a friend of that brat who guarded Selene.”
Ronal nodded. “I am a friend of his, yes.”
“You were also the one who informed Selene of the Jewel Island Representative’s plot to marry her to gain the throne, despite any orders to be silent.”
“Yes, I was.” Ronal could feel a bit of anxiety rise up in his stomach. He had made a bad reputation for himself in King Dorian’s eyes, no doubt. When the king made no immediate reply, Ronal began to wonder if he had made the right choice in speaking up. Suddenly he heard the unsheathing of a sword, and dared to peek up at the king’s face. He was surprised to see an expression of thoughtful delight looking down at him.
Dorian had pulled out his sword, and gently touched it to Ronal’s right shoulder, and then to his left shoulder. “I dub you, then, Courageous Knight of Sapphira. May you fight with strength and honor in your battles, and triumph in your deeds of mercy. Arise.”
Ronal felt the shock hit him full force. He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “You’re making me a Knight?” It was considered one of the highest honors a Fighter could earn. Only rarely was it done before a Fighter was thirty years of age.
Dorian nodded. “It takes a special kind of bravery to stand up for what you believe is right,” he said, “Especially when your peers are content to say nothing.” Dorian gestured toward the crowd behind Ronal and explained, “Out of all these men, you were the first to step forth. And yet you are an unlikely candidate for such a task, considering we have not always been of the same opinion. Your loyalty lies with justice, not with me ... and that I can respect, since my loyalty is to justice as well; although I have strayed more than once, I will admit.”
“Thank you,” Ronal said, bowing. “I am very grateful.” He looked back up at King Dorian and said, “However, Your Majesty, I feel compelled to tell you that I was not the first to stand up.”
“Oh really?” Dorian chuckled softly. “Then who was?”
“The first was your servant, the Fighter Etoileon, Sire. His gift of protection to Her Highness is far more deserving of Knighthood than mine,” Ronal told him, humbly looking away.
Dorian stood still for a moment before he said, “You have much to do, Knight. Go do it.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Dorian watched as his new Knight walked out of the room with one of his royal guards before turning and facing the rest of the room. Suddenly, another boy stepped forward. “Your Majesty?” his small hand went up in the air, and his cracking voice caught the attention of the occupants of the room. When the king turned and faced him, the boy nervously bowed and said, “I will go! Send me!”
One by one, more voices began calling out to be sent. The king smiled at their eagerness before he took a step back from them, saying, “There will be much tribulation in your path, should you choose this destiny. It is not one for the faint of heart, but for the heart of faith. You believe there is a chance for a better world than this one. This you must do, because looking at the here and now, you will only see trouble. But look to the future, my people, my Fighters. You will see much more than what I can promise awaiting you and your loved ones there, should you all choose to stand against your enemies for the time being.”
The room filled with cheers. Dorian looked at it, and thought that it looked like these young men had hope at last.
IT WAS A WEEK LATER that all the official military reports came out. The Fighters who volunteered to go abroad had been selected, assigned, and prepared for departure within the next few days.
Selene had remained unaware of all that was going on. She had spent all her free moments in the last week studying, reading, or taking naps. She had even skipped a few meals here and there, in order to be able to convince Dorian that she was caught up enough in her studies to be able to go and see Etoileon over the weekend.
She had been told that several of his internal bruises were apparently healed, but there were still problems. He never made a sound at all in his unconsciousness, but his vital signs remained steady. The doctors were stumped as to what was keeping him from waking up, but they thought it had something to do with a psychological problem. When Selene asked what that could possibly mean, the informant had shook his head and replied, “Any number of things, I’m sure.”
Sitting on the floor by her bed now, she sighed. There was a dullness in her spirit as she thought once again that it was all her fault for his present condition. She could not think of much else. It was only her time with Pegasus that she truly felt any joy at all these days. Her studies distracted her, and all of her companions were concerned with the developments of the wartime activity. Selene became so depressed over hearing of the losses and all the troubles the army was having in the seas that she tuned it out, trying to think of more pleasant things.
She found herself remembering the good times with Etoileon and Pegasus, and the times with Dorian when he had not been so grown up. She recalled some memories with Aura even, when the woman had not been so concerned with trying to be regarded as a true Lady of the Court. Selene also thought of the countless sunsets and sunrises she had been in awe of, the different palettes of color that were painted on the sky each day and night. She recalled the Lunar Storms of the years gone by, and the special night of the lunar rainbow when she and Etoileon had first become friends. All her good dreams came forth too, as though to guard her heart against feeling the dark pain of her world.
She was thinking of going to see if the kitchens were still open for a bit of hot chocolate, but it was then that the door to her room opened and Cyerra came rushing into the room. Selene peeked over the top of her covers to see that Cyerra had teardrops falling down her cheeks.
Cyerra tried to brush away the tears, but she just stopped and cried into her hands. Selene hesitated before speaking up.
“Cyerra?”
The handmaiden sniffled and tried harder to compose herself. “My Lady?” she asked. She had not noticed when she’d come into the room that there was someone else in there.
“Over here,” Selene spoke up as she got up from her bedroom floor. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Cyerra said, her voice heavy with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, princess,” she blubbered. “I’m afraid that I’ve just received bad news.”
“What’s wrong? What is it?” Selene walked over to her and offered her a handkerchief. “Surely we can do something to help you out.”
“No, it’s not about me. Or at least, not directly. I just got word from Ronal that he is going to be sent to the north of the Continent for battle. It’s official this time, too, so it will be done.” Cyerra looked up sadly. “Before it was just a rumor, a possibility. Now ... ” she laid her hands palm up on her lap as she crouched down where she stood, unable to stand.
“A battle? In the north?” Selene asked. “I had no idea that there was a battle going on there. Oh, Cyerra, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, princess,” Cyerra sobbed. “It’s just that ... I worry for him so.”
Selene nodded. “You must care for him greatly,” she said slowly.
Cyerra looked up and nodded. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she said. “I can’t seem to help but cry. I love him.”
Selene could tell that her words were sincere, and she nodded. Crouching down next to her handmaiden, she reached over and put her hand reassuringly on Cyerra’s. When Cyerra nearly jumped in surprise, Selene caught her eyes and said, “Then you should not worry what I think. Go ahead and cry. I cannot hold it against you for such a reason as love.”
Cyerra just stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “Thank you.”
Selene gave her a tiny smile. “Do you want me to see if I can get Dorian to keep him here?”
“No,” Cyerra shook her head. “Ronal was promoted to a Knight in the Fighter squadron. He can’t stay here now. He is a leader of a legion of men. Telling him to stay would only dishonor and offend him.”
“I see.” Selene could think of nothing else that was possible. “We can only believe that he will know what to do when the time comes for him to fight,” Selene said slowly. “And we must hope that he will be careful.” When she finished talking, Cyerra lowered her head into her arms and cried. Selene placed a hand on her shoulder and said nothing more, just silently assuring Cyerra that she was there for her.
It did not take Cyerra long to compose herself entirely, but her eyes, Selene noticed, still held a sadness in them. They stood up, and Selene felt like she should try to make Cyerra feel better somehow. “Cyerra, why don’t you go and stay with your aunt in the city for a few days? I’m sure that Dorian would allow you to if I ask him,” she offered.
Sadly, Cyerra sighed. “Not at this time, if you don’t mind, My Lady,” she replied. “Ronal will leave at the end of next week. I would like as much time with him as I can get before he departs the city.”
“Oh, I see ... I’m sorry,” Selene apologized. “There is nothing I can think of that would help you too much.”
“Thank you anyway,” Cyerra smiled at her kindly. “That is enough for me, that you would go to such trouble. But there is nothing to be done about it, and that’s that I’m afraid.” She frowned at her bitter words and then slumped over a bit.
Selene bit her lip in uncertainty. “I know how you feel,” she said softly. “We do not have the exact same situation, but I know what it is like to have someone that you love away from you, outside of your reach.”
Cyerra looked up and nodded. “Etoileon will get better one day, princess. I am sure of it.”
Selene gave her a tiny smile. “Thank you, Cyerra, but please, call me Selene.”
“It sounds as if we bo
th could use some comfort,” Cyerra remarked after a moment of silence. “If you don’t mind, Selene, I’d like to go to sleep now. I’m very drained and I can use the extra rest.”
“Go ahead,” Selene nodded. “Get some sleep. Take tomorrow off if you wish, even. Yana, Kadrianne, and the others can handle me for a day without you. In fact, I insist that you take the day off tomorrow. Spend some time with Ronal, between his training sessions.”
Cyerra’s eyes lit up briefly. “Really? That sounds wonderful.” She bowed low and replied, “Thank you, Selene. I appreciate all that you do for me, so much.”
Selene waved her off. “Go to bed, Cyerra. Things will look better after you’ve had some good rest. And I think the same goes for me. I think I will turn in early too.”
“Good night, Selene,” Cyerra said as she bid the princess farewell for the night.
“Sweet Dreams, Cyerra,” Selene turned around to say goodnight, but Cyerra was already gone.
A SHORT WHILE LATER, Selene found herself once again surrounded by the comfort and peace of her Pegasus friend.
“You seem so sad lately,” Pegasus said as he approached her.
“Yes, I have been sad,” Selene admitted, a little uncomfortable at the thought of telling Pegasus why she was so glum. She looked down at that ground. “Today Cyerra, one of my handmaidens, found out that she was going to have to say goodbye to one that she loves. I tried to help her out, but I couldn’t do anything for her. At least, not much.”
“Selene, you are a good friend to her. I’m sure that knowing that much gives her much more comfort than can be expected.”
The princess peeked up at him. “Couldn’t you go and comfort her?” she asked. “You are a spirit who lives in the heart of dreams, right?”
Pegasus shook his head. “Though I have the power to do so, I can only knock on the door of her heart. She must decide to let me in or not, and must ask it of me. I would never refuse such a request, but they have to be the ones to ask for it.”