Master

The faint chirping of birds came from outside Rionara’s room. She blinked a few times, realizing she had slept sitting on the couch while leaning on Priscilla’s chest.

She looked down at her own hands before closing and opening them. Somehow she was able to sleep, but it felt wrong. Her heart ached as she turned around.

Priscilla still had the same hollow stare. Her crimson red eyes were locked onto Rionara’s without moving an inch.

“Pris…”

The high elf closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and standing up. The knight did the same, but her upper body hunched forward—leaning over Rionara. The two of them walked to the window—where the high elf looked outside.

Guards were still patrolling the street below. Some of them saw Rionara from the window but simply turned away while shaking their heads.

Rionara closed her hands into tight fists. Resentment. She thought she knew all too well what they were thinking.

‘They blame me… they blame Pris, but none of them knows how much she fought. None of them will.’ She clenched her teeth so hard it was becoming painful. ‘I won’t let them disgrace her image… I won’t…!’

Suddenly, the door behind her swung open. Rionara turned startled by the sudden noise and Priscilla followed her gaze while preparing to lurch towards whatever had entered the room.

Instead of an assailant, a familiar elf maid came in with a silver tray of food.

“Good morning, dear guest.” Adelia’s serious tone despite the polite greeting made Rionara feel uneasy as she made her way into the middle of the room where the table was. “I have brought you some food.”

“Ah…”

Rionara opened her hands as she placed them in front of her body. Priscilla remained hunched over, glaring at the maid who raised an eyebrow as she placed the tray on the table.

“Dear guest, may I ask what is wrong?”

“No, nothing…”

“I doubt ‘nothing’ would cause you to not eat.” She glanced briefly at the ruined pancakes before walking right past Priscilla and into Rionara’s personal space. “Do you not enjoy sweets, dear guest?”

“No, it’s not that, I’m just…”

“If there is anything you dislike, please do say so. My sister prepared this herself and it would sadden her to see a meal go unfinished.”

“Ah, no I…”

Adelia lifted a finger and Rionara instinctively stopped talking. Just then the elf maid smiled softly.

“Dear guest, you are now under Captain Rhys’ protection. So long as you don’t do something outrageous, you should at least try to accept some kindness for your own peace of mind.” Rionara remained with a half open mouth as if she was about to deny it but no words came out. Adelia stepped to the side and motioned with her hand towards the silver tray on the table. “Here, have some breakfast at least.”

Looking at the meal prepared for her, there were a few dishes that were familiar. A bowl of meat stew, freshly baked bread on a porcelain platter, and soft cheese sliced to single-bite pieces with silver skewers stabbed into them.

The savory fragrance of the food enticed Rionara’s appetite even though her mind was actively refusing to eat.

“Here.”

Adelia gently held Rionara’s hand and pulled her to the couch.

“Ah, wait-”

Priscilla followed them by turning her head before eventually shambling after her master.

After making her sit down in front of the food tray, Adelia placed her hands in front of her own waist, waiting with her eyes closed.

“Um… I…”

“I have my eyes closed, dear guest. If it bothers you, I can turn around as well.”

“N-no that’s not…” Rionara felt troubled. Not because of how insistent Adelia was, but in how she wanted to take care of her. “I’ll try to eat…”

She was about to reach for the silver fork, but her hand froze for a moment. Her eyes narrowed. She remembered the way Priscilla used to correct her grip—and instead, she picked the bread up with her hand.

She broke the loaf in half and dipped into the stew before taking a bite out of it. The savory broth and filling bread dough drew her to another bite, then another—before long, she was eating without forcing herself to do so.

Adelia looked at her briefly and smiled subtly before taking her leave. She closed the door behind her and a shadow loomed over her. She let out a quiet chuckle before saying.

“She is eating your food. Amelia.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t need to worry about her starving.”

“A-Adelia, you s-shouldn’t talk about guests like that…”

The person behind her was a tall human woman. Her straight brown hair went almost down to her stomach. She held her interlocked hands close to her waist while fiddling around with her thumbs.

The white apron she wore had almost no signs of usage, saving for one tiny red stain of wine in the middle of her chest. Her white sleeves were rolled up to a pair of somewhat thick forearms and square, stout fingers that could be mistaken for a carpenter’s.

“You worry too much.” The elf looked up at her sister’s hazel eyes. “Have some confidence in your cooking.”

Amelia stopped fidgeting with her thumbs and instead squeezed her own hands together.

“I… I just want her to feel better. It’s the least we can do.”

Though a bit surprised at first, Adelia chuckled before nodding along.

“True.”

Slow footsteps came from down the hall and both maids turned to see Rhys walking towards them. He wore his distinct white overcoat with his sheathed dueling saber hanging beside his hip.

“Good morning you two.”

“Good morning, Lord Rhys.”

“G-good morning, Lord Rhys.”

Both maids replied while bowing. He looked briefly at their hands before turning to the elf.

“Did she have breakfast?”

“Yes, I believe she should be finishing up soon.”

“I see.” He adjusted the collar of his clothes. “Tell her to come downstairs when she’s done.”

“Understood.”

The captain turned around and left. Adelia could see him rub his fingers together as he walked down the stairs. She sighed and her younger sister asked.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just surprised.”

Rhys sat at the bottom of the staircase before unsheathing his saber. The blade had seen better days, but it was still serviceable. No signs of rust or dents, but there were plenty of scratches across the metal.

“Ha…” He sheathed the blade again. “I just hope I won’t have to use it.”

He leaned backwards with his elbows on the carpeted steps and stared up at the silver chandelier above.

“A Royal Knight… how long will it take to Arcadia to march to our doors…?” He couldn’t begin to fathom the destruction. “It wouldn’t even take a day to siege this city.”

His mind was rushing. All current roads led to one solution, but that also proved to be far too ‘inhumane’ for his taste.

He covered his face with his right palm.

‘What would she do in a situation like this…?’

Quiet footsteps echoed from behind him and as he looked over his shoulder, he noticed Rionara atop of the stairs with Priscilla in tow.

“Did… did you call for me?”

“Yes, I did.” He stood up and patted the front of his coat. “Let’s go down to the barracks, I’ll have to introduce you to the troops.”

“Huh?”

He was halfway to the double wooden doors before turning around.

“Didn’t you hear me? Let’s go.”

“Ah, but…”

With the sisters’ help, Rionara was able to bring Priscilla down the staircase and outside. There, Rhys was waiting just beyond the metallic gate that separated his house from the street. The high elf hesitantly walked alongside him with the knight shambling right behind her.

Many of the guards looked from the corner of their eyes towards her with disdain, but none dared to speak.

Rionara couldn’t help but massage her own hands as she asked.

“R-Rhys, what are you planning to do? Why are you bringing me to that place?”

“You’ll be part of the guard starting today.”

“B-but I killed your men-”

“I know. I’m aware of it, but there is only one way to seek forgiveness in this town.” He said, adjusting his saber. “You either work, or pay.”

‘I don’t know how to be useful.’

She thought, but she couldn’t voice those words. He glanced at her and noticed how pale she had become.

“Do you know how to fight?” She shook her head slightly. “Then you’ll learn today.”

The rest of the way was silent and filled with stares. Once she reached the barracks’ grounds, she was almost instantly surrounded by guards that were present in the massacre of the day before.

“Captain! What is the meaning of this?!”

“Yeah!”

“Silence!” Rhys shouted, making the younger guards back off. “We need to replenish our forces. And she’ll be learning how to wield a weapon. Now go back to your posts!”

“What is the captain thinking…?!”

“This is outrageous…!”

Rionara had both her clenched fists closed to her chest while staring at the dirt in front of her feet.

“Jeanne.” Rhys spoke firmly. “Go to the training grounds in the back, I’ll be there with you in a moment.”

“Y-yes…”

Following his orders, she slowly went around the building—all the while being watched by the guards as she passed. It felt stifling.

Behind the building was where it all happened yesterday. The lack of bodies and the normal rhythm of training made her think for a moment that yesterday was all but a bad dream. However, her mere presence attracted many eyes of training guards and their glances were anything but kind.

Pells were being struck more fiercely. Footwork echoed across the field in unison. It made Rionara shrink to herself.

“Jeanne.” Rhys’ voice came from behind her as he brought a sword, a mace, and a halberd with him. “Which one?”

“What do you mean…?”

He sighed briefly.

“Which one do you prefer?”

“I… I know how to wield a sword.”

“Good.” He placed both the mace and halberd against the building’s wall and handed her the training blade. “Strike that pell. I want to see how capable you are.”

She grabbed the sword by its handle and went over to the closest training post. She held the blade upright, parallel to her body. She had practiced that form many times.

‘Lead with the blade and let the body follow.’

Priscilla’s words echoed in her mind. But no matter how much she ordered her body to move, her muscles refused to do so.

Rhys raised an eyebrow as he asked.

“What’s the matter?”

“I… I don’t know…” She swallowed hard. “It won’t move.”

“What do you mean? You have the structure of a soldier, just swing it as you normally would.”

Her fingers trembled around the hilt. The memory of Priscilla holding her arms in order to teach her how to properly swing a sword was engraved in her mind—holding her in place.

“I-I am trying.”

“Jeanne, you have to try harder.”

“I AM!”

She shouted. The corpse behind her moved. In one violent motion, Priscilla seized the halberd before slamming it down against the pell—crushing the training post under so much strength that it bent the blade slightly sideways.

Suddenly the training grounds became eerily quiet. Only the sounds of distant birds chirping and the faint morning chatter coming from the streets could be heard amidst the deafening silence.

“Jeanne.” Rhys spoke carefully as he was now looking at a completely destroyed training post and a bent weapon meant for war. “Did you order her to do this?”

“N-no… I swear I…”

The distinct silence made the captain look around and as he did so, the other guards forced themselves to return to whatever training they were doing. He walked closer to Priscilla and inspected her face.

She still had the same blank expression, but her hand had a vice grip on the halberd and the thick blade, even though it was a training weapon, was bent.

‘She didn’t even align the blade properly…’

He looked back at Rionara—who had the sword hanging low near her feet.

“Make her let go of that halberd, I’ll go get something else from the armory.”

He soon left with the sword he had handed to her and the mace. Rionara remained looking at the pell. The top that was covered in cloth was now crushed to splinters at the bottom of Priscilla’s weapon.

“Pris.”

The knight remained unmoving.

“Priscilla. Let go.”

With those few words, the halberd fell with a thud on the dirt. After doing so, the corpse leaned back before pivoting around and shambling back to her side.

Her quiet groaning and bobbing made Rionara’s heart shrink.

“Here, try this instead.” Rhys returned with a polearm. More specifically a mace on a longer stick. “Have her break the other one.”

There was hesitation at first but that soon turned into anger.

“You… do you think Priscilla is just a tool?”

He sighed.

“No, not for the purposes of one at least. I’m trying to understand how you control her.” He pushed the polearm into Priscilla’s shoulder, but the undead didn’t even react to it. “I can’t have a guard that uses overwhelming force every time she wants someone apprehended."

“Tch…” Rionara clenched her teeth, but her sizzling rage would serve for nothing if not make their situation worse. She begrudgingly raised her hand towards him. “Priscilla, grab that weapon.”

The knight’s eyes turned to Rhys in a way that sent chills down his spine. Priscilla then snagged the polearm from his hand and shambled towards the nearest pell.

Rionara then felt another tug inside her chest as she focused on the training post and shouted.

“Destroy it!”

Priscilla’s right foot scraped the dirt as she winded her arm back and slammed the weapon with full force against the pell. Once again, splinters and dirt flew out of the impact zone as all that remained was a crushed mound of wood beneath the steel.

Rhys walked close to the undead but she didn’t seem interested in him. Instead, she just simply shambled back to Rionara while dragging the mace on the dirt. As she groaned quietly, the high elf went over to her and tapped the dirt and splinters off her jacket.

“I see. Very well.” The captain nodded a few times. “I’ll have a wooden baton with cloth issued for her to wield. That should keep her from outright killing people. As for you, Jeanne, do you have anything else that can be used for self defense?”

She looked away with bitterness in her eyes.

“...magic.”