Amelia Thornheart Chapter 104: Christmas

The next few days were tense.

The area of sky Serena had determined the Myrmidon or its lifeboats would most likely be found wasn’t quite as hazardous as the dense fields they’d had to sail through to find the Indefatigable, but they weren’t casual sailing either. While Serena dismissed the idea of taking the ship too close to the Shattered Isles, they couldn’t just ignore Rhaknam’s ho in the sky. The dark patch in the distance threw out no small number of tornadoes and freak weather they had to keep an eye out for. It was during this ti that Alia witnessed another unnatural phenonon.

“What’s that?” Alia asked one of the nearby observers, pointing at the softly glowing lumina far below. A large section of it, perhaps ten kilotres wide, was slowly rotating. The outsides moved the slowest while the small, almost funnel-like centre spun quickly. The lumina itself seed to be sucked into this funnel, the ethereal fog vanishing into the unknown under-sky before being replaced by more of itself in what seed like an endless cycle.

It didn’t look all that different from water running down a drain hole.

“That’s a whirlpool, Miss Liona,” the observer replied, faithfully following Serena’s orders not to ntion anything about Alia’s true identity out loud. “Currently stable, by the looks of it. You don’t see them often. They don’t form near the continents. Technically, they’re classed as a type of lumina storm, but they don’t cause much interference with our ‘scopes unless you’re close when they collapse.”

“It looks like you could just sail down there…” Alia murmured. The very centre, while surrounded by the quickly spinning funnel of supernatural fog, seed almost calm. It was as if the world itself was inviting her to explore its unknown depths.

“Anyone who’s tried has never returned,” the observer said. “I heard a whirlpool’s centre is a theoretical entrance to the under-sky, but it's a one-way trip. Best we keep our horns in low, mid, and upper-sky, in my opinion. Moons above and under-sky below, both are realms for the gods, that’s what I think.”

“Do you think it’s another realm down there?” Alia asked, feeling herself grow excited. Her query earned her a number of theories from the surrounding observers.

“My ma always told the under-sky was where the Empress banished the Enemy.”

“It’s where the Seven Hells are, surely!”

“I heard it’s a gigantic crystal, like the moons themselves.”

“There are stories of sailors who glimpsed the under-sky when the lumina was thin. They say they saw strange creatures and sparkling treasures!”

“Hmm…” Alia humd to herself. She wondered if the Empress knew the truth. She wondered if anyone knew. Or… was this another mystery she was going to have to solve herself?

“Ah, it’s collapsing, Miss Liona!”

Alia turned her eyes to the whirlpool just as shouts of alarm sounded on the bridge. The Vengeance’s engines intensified and soon she felt the vessel accelerate and rise up and away from the lumina. They were already several kilotres away, but clearly Serena wanted to take no risk.

“How dangerous are they when they collapse?” Alia asked, watching the whirlpool close.

“Very, if you’re right above the centre. We’re just being careful by making more distance,” the observer explained. “The problem is when”—the observer pointed excitedly— “look! There!”

The whirlpool rippled as if so unknown switch was flipped. The disc of rotating fog beca agitated and the centre shrunk smaller and smaller as the funnel spun faster and faster. Then, the centre fully closed and there was a sudden explosion of activity. A titanic column of raw, dense lumina suddenly shot up into the sky before slowly dispersing. It was difficult to judge the scale of such massive objects, but the pillar of fog must have reached almost three kilotres into low-sky.

“It’s called a rebound jet,” soone told her. “Ever watched rain fall on a puddle? Sothing similar happens. You can imagine how dangerous it is for a ship and its crew to be caught like that. Such sudden exposure to the lumina could be fatal. Although”—the demon chuckled, tapping the walls of the observation room affectionately—“if it were to happen to us we’d be okay, thanks to the ship. Still, best not to risk it given how sensitive she’s been recently.”

“Amazing…” Alia murmured.

Alia's shift in the observation room soon ended and she returned to her quarters to double-check the presents. They sat there, innocently, yet there was an atmosphere of anticipation coming from them. A knot of excitent ford inside Alia’s stomach that made her want to tippy-tap her feet. Alia felt that, just by looking at them, she could sense the satisfaction and enjoynt of their future recipients.

It felt good to do good things!

I hope they like them, she thought to herself reassuringly.

She picked up one present, admiring her own wrapping. Striped and patterned paper was tightly hugging each present, held into place by gumd paper tape. This world hadn’t yet invented the common cellophane-based tape that was so pervasive in her old life, so she’d had to make do with bulkier alternatives.

Not wanting to second guess her choice of gifts, Alia distracted herself by flipping through the Demon Bible. She hadn’t been particularly religious in her old life, and only knew a few things about Christianity. She did, however, know enough to see that this world’s version had changed radically.

The Old and New Testants had been rged into a singular Humanic Testant. It was this text that underpinned the Human Church that was so dominant on the human continent of Terra Aurea. Their competitors, the Demon Church, took things further. The Empress herself had compiled an additional Demonic Testant, split into two parts. The first part covered Christ’s appearance and life in Cascadia almost fifteen hundred years ago, while the second covered the story and rise of Elana herself.

From what she could gather, the modern interpretation of the Demonic Testant’s recounting of The Long Discordancy was laden with taphors and not entirely literal, although there were more zealous branches of the Demon Church that truly believed the Empress prayed for seven years without end to commune the Third-Word. This was at odds with the modern understanding, that those years of prayer were carried out along with her regular duties, and it was due to Elana receiving sothing called the Second Commission from the Seven Hells and Six Heavens that she was able to beco The Light Rekindled and banish the Enemy from the continent.

She had to admit, The Light Rekindled was a freaking cool title!

Almost on par with Dreadmage Thornheart.

Whether the story was objectively true or not, Alia didn’t mind. She was just happy to take advantage of her sainthood and utilise the church’s power to organise healing events. If everything had gone according to plan, it was likely the news of her canonisation had now been made public. It would take only days for the news to reach the far ends of the Empire. She’d been a little worried about how she might be treated in Ishaq, but she was told the area was particularly disconnected from the rest of the continent. The only urban centres more isolated were the mysterious lands of the Western Terra-Firma and their unknown overlord.

Humming to herself, Alia picked up part of her crystalcraft project and began seeing where it was most suitable. Should it wrap a pillar, or hang like bunting? Perhaps it would look good on Serena’s chair…

“What in the under-sky is this?” Serena mused, stepping through the door and closing it. “Is this what you’ve been working on?”

“Not quite, this is an inbetween project,” Alia replied, spreading her arms to show the series of small aetherlights glowing softly, evenly spaced along a long piece of string. “I need the optic cables to really get going, but until I do, I figured I’d make this!” Alia jiggled this world’s version of fairy lights. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Extrely,” Serena said, smiling. She helped Alia adorn her leather chair with the aetherlights. “I’ll have to take them down at so point,” Serena inford her. “I can’t be seen receiving honoured guests on this ship while sitting in a sparkling chair. People will say weird things about .” Serena shook her head and sighed as if she wasn’t already infamous for lting n and won alike with her glares.

Serena stepped into their bedroom, eyeing Alia’s presents. “Is this all for ?” she asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

“So of it! But you’ve got so secret presents that aren’t here, so don’t be too disappointed if you don’t get much tomorrow!” Alia grinned, trying not to let any blush reach her cheeks.

“Well, you’re going to be very popular,” Serena said, picking up one present and sniffing it. “I don’t even need to ask to know what you’ve got for Officer Bright, do I?” Serena put the wrapped Jimari coffee back down and said, “I’d hoped to be able to do a larger celebration, but recent events have ant we need most pairs of horns on standby. I’m staggering the shifts so everyone has a chance to get so Christmas food in the ss hall. As people co and go, you should be able to track down your recipients.”

“Mmm!”

The next day arrived and Alia spent it hunting down her own targets. At the sa ti, the Vengeance and its dutiful crew searched for any sign of the Myrmidon’s and the Indefatigable’s lifeboats..

Tos, who was almost always in his quarters, was the first victim of Alia’s incredible generosity and cuteness.

“Well well, Miss Liona, is that a neatly wrapped gift I see behind your back?” Tos questioned, tilting his head and peering through his spectacles at her. Even though Alia had long since healed Tos’ eyesight, the stubborn demon still chose to wear his spectacles after swapping out the lenses to plain glass. Apparently he liked having sothing to do with his hands, such as taking them on and off his face, and cleaning them while deep in thought.

“Several neatly wrapped gifts,” Alia said cheerfully before looking around and asking in a quiet voice, “Do you still have to call … you know? nes and all his n are in the cargo bay.”

Serena had ordered everyone on the ship to call her Miss Liona, even when talking about Alia with each other in private. She didn’t want to risk anything slipping to nes or his n. Alia was happy to go along with it, but surely it would be fine for Tos to make an exception now? It felt weird to give out gifts while being called a na that wasn’t hers.

“Best not risk the Captain’s ire, Miss Liona,” Tos replied. “And best not take the risk and beco complacent. This is a military vessel, where complacency kills.”

“Mmm, alright then…” Alia mumbled before cheering herself up again. “I was hoping to find Dagon here as well. Oh well, you can be the first of many lucky demons.” She couldn’t stop herself grinning before handing Tos his present. “You have to guess!”

“I have to guess?”

“Yeah! It’s part of the fun!”

“Hmm…” Tos examined his present, turning its strange shape this way and that. “There’s a bit of flex to this part… I’m guessing… a book and”—he lightly shook the present—“sothing else?”

Alia giggled.

At her urging, Tos neatly opened the present, using a letter knife to smoothly slice through the layers of wrapping. His present was two separate items that went well together. Tos placed one to the side and focused his attention on the most obvious of the two. “Oh my, what a precious notebook!” he exclaid. The leatherbound, gold-embossed notebook shone as it reflected the light. “Now this is fancy,” he murmured, lifting the notebook up and down as if he were a set of scales. “It’s weighty,” he said. “Good paper weighs more.”

Tos carefully popped open the tal clasp and flicked through. “You’ve outdone yourself, Miss Liona. This is”—Tos rubbed one of the pages between his fingers—”woven rag paper. Much more suitable for fountain pens than the cheaper wood pulp paper they mass produce these days. Did you know that?”

“Mmm!” Alia nodded enthusiastically. “The shopkeeper told all about it! Each page is sized paper, it’s been treated with starch to control the ink absorbance! And…” Alia motioned for Tos to flick to the end of the notebook. Once he did, his eyes widened at the fancy, patterned pages with the elaborate watermark of the company that handmade the notebook. “Marbled end pages,” Alia affird. “Apparently it’s a big deal in, uh, high-end notebook circles.”

“A circle I’m now part of, it seems,” Tos said, his lips curling. “Now this marvellous notebook has presented itself to , would it be outrageous for to dare to assu that this”—Tos lifted up the pen-sized box—”possibly contains a writing instrunt?”

“Not at all! But why are you suddenly talking so poshly? You’re even doing an accent!”

“I can’t help it, you scoundrel. This notebook’s so expensive I barely feel like I should touch it!” Tos shook his head. “Now, let’s see what we have in here. Oh, would you look at that…” he murmured, opening the box and examining the dark, polished, fountain pen with an ornate gold nib. On the side of the pen, the na Tos was embossed in neat golden letters. “What in the Seven Hells have I done to earn such a wonderful gift, Miss Liona?”

“I thought you could do so writing!” Alia chirped. “You always enjoy telling stories about everything and anything. Maybe you should write so down! You could publish a children’s book!”

“This is far too fine a pen for day to day use—ah!” Tos’ eyed widened as he spotted the company seal stamped on the end of the pen. “This is a Runkel-Saden! This is far too expensive! How did you get one of these!? Surely you didn’t order it all the way from Centralis!?”

Alia shook her head. “I found a branch workshop in Asamaywa! Newly opened this year. They’re expanding the brand and could do all the customisation in-house! The barrel of the pen is from the core of an ironwood tree that’s been left to dry for years. It’s been treated and polished to show off the natural grain, see? The grip is hand-carved, and the feed that controls ink flow to the gold nib is made out of ebonite!” Alia cheerfully pointed out each part of the pen, enthusiastically repeating the morised sales pitch the skilled salesman had used to capture the attention of both her and her quickly growing bank account.

“I don’t even know what ebonite is…” Tos muttered as he rotated the pen so his golden na reflected the room’s aetherlight.

“It’s a hard rubber,” Alia said. “Very hard to find, apparently. So, do you like it? You will use it, won’t you? A good notebook is a notebook full, and a good pen is a used pen!” Alia wagged a finger at the quartermaster. “Don’t go hiding them in your desk. Use them!”

“Of course I’ll use them, my dear,” said Tos. “I only fear you won’t be so impressed with what Dagon and I have got you in return.”

“Y-you’ve got a present!?” Alia bounced onto the balls of her feet. “Really!?” As she interrogated Tos his door opened and Dagon stepped through.

“Morning,” Dagon intoned. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding towards Tos’ Christmas haul. Once he’d heard the explanation from Tos, he shook his head, saying, “I should have guessed you would do sothing so dramatic.”

“What?” Alia said innocently, puffing her cheeks out.

“I’m just saying,” Dagon pointed to Tos’ new pen, “that’s a Runkel-Saden! It’s the kind of gift nobles would give each other! It’s not the typical possession of a common soldier or officer like us.”

“Well, you better get used to it,” Alia said with a smug grin. “You’re not common to at all!” Ignoring the slight reddening of the demon’s cheeks at her comnt, Alia continued, “It’s ti for your present, Dagon!”

“I’m, er,” Dagon rubbed his chin nervously, “not as skilled as a scribe as my brother, Miss Liona.”

“Lucky for you, you haven’t got a pen then, have you?” Alia handed Dagon his wrapped gift. “Here you go! And you have to try and guess what it is!”

“Hmm…” Dagon squeezed the present. “Clothes? Maybe not… it’s got hard bits and soft bits. And”—the demon gave it a quick sniff—“a strange sll. It’s not unpleasant, rather nice. I can’t place it…”

“Let have a look,” Tos requested. Once he had the present he spent so ti examining it before giving it a sniff. “Oh,” he said, raising an eyebrow and looking at Alia. “Really?” After Alia shrugged in response he faced Dagon and handed him the present back. “You’re a lucky pair of horns, brother.”

“You know what it is?”

“I know what it’s made of,” Tos said.

Alia couldn’t handle waiting any further.

“Open it!” she eagerly instructed.

After a mont of hesitation, the First Officer of the Vengeance unwrapped the present. He picked up the item inside and held it up for everyone to see, his eyes wide like saucers, his mouth opening like a fish. Eventually, Dagon found his words, muttering, “It's… it's… it's rannar. I own a rannar belt. A rannar belt! With a scabbard! Miss Liona…” He slowly turned to Alia, his expression full of disbelief. “Do you know how much this material costs?”

“Mmm!” Alia nodded, throwing Dagon a characteristic thumbs up. “Apparently, it can even withstand a weak red aura and even small-calibre bullets! But it’s most fad for its endurance! Rannar equipnt can last centuries if looked after properly. I’ve heard sotis the tal parts erode long before the leather weakens!”

Rannar leather was one of, if not the most, expensive leathers in the Known World. It was exclusively sourced from hunting a wilderness monster known as a Rannarsaurus, a ferocious beast that historically took minor armies to subdue. The creature could wrap its horns and claws in aura, and was a potent threat to lowland civilisation until hunting rifles beca commonplace. Even then, hunting one was a daunting task.

“I’ve heard rannar is used in Greatlord Oshiro’s personal armour,” Alia said. “And the Empress herself has used leather armour made from it! Not even steel can scratch it!” Alia reached out and ran her fingers over the scaly belt and scabbard. “I was going to buy you a breastplate, but apparently that would be so military dress violation. I checked; officers have more freedom with their belts and scabbards, so there you go!”

“Good thing you didn’t gift him a set of armour,” Tos mused. “Otherwise we’d have to start calling him Greatlord Dahlberg, wouldn’t we? Ha!” The quartermaster laughed, enjoying Dagon’s face whitening even further. “You’re going to be the envy of the ship, Dagon.”

“Don’t start,” Dagon mumbled. The demon held up a small tal pot that ca with the belt. “What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s lanolin,” Alia replied. “I’m told this is the best kind, derived from Fengra wool with added beeswax. You’re supposed to treat it regularly to keep it moisture-resistant and supple. You have Noburu and Seonmi to thank for that! They’re really knowledgeable when it cos to maintaining old stuff!”

“Hmm,” Dagon mused, “so our resident thieves have so use.”

Alia put her hands on her hips and gave the seven-foot demon a strong pout. “Don’t call them thieves! They’re soldiers now, and they’re risking their lives the sa as anyone. Just because—”

“Yes, yes,” Dagon waved a hand, cutting Alia off. “Apologies, Miss Liona, and yes, I know the captain has instructed us to give them a fair shot, and a fair shot I’ll give them.”

Tos coughed lightly. “Once they’ve been in a battle or two, they’ll be accepted fine. It’s natural for it to take so ti. Their background is… unusual, and they’re the first conscripts to be taken by the Vengeance for as long as I can rember.”

“Mmm…” Alia humd.

“Well this is a trendous gift,” Dagon said. “I fear our reciprocation won’t be nearly as valuable.”

Alia shook her head. “Nonsense!” she declared. “The value of a gift isn’t in its monetary worth! Its value is in the care and intentions behind the gift-giver!” Although Alia truly believed that, it hadn’t stopped her spending a ridiculous amount of money on her demon friends. After all, House Halen was paying her extrely well. What was the point of hoarding money and wealth? It was far better to spend it doing good things!

“How noble,” Tos said with a toothy grin. The quartermaster reached behind his desk and brought out a paper bag. “Here’s one of your presents. The captain recomnded this, so complain to her if you don’t like it. We uh”—Tos shifted in his seat awkwardly—“didn't think to wrap this one, Miss Liona., I hope you don’t mind!”

“Not at all!” Alia took the bag from Tos while Dagon reclined on the sofa, picking his chunky white teeth with a toothpick. Even as he watched her, he held his new rannar equipnt in his other hand, running his hand over the scales repeatedly.

“You don’t need to be a Speaker to tell what type of present that is,” Dagon said with a grin.

He was right. The telltale shape of a wine bottle was unmistakable. Unable to wait any longer, Alia looked inside and pulled out the alcohol. “Oooh…” she murmured. “It’s so clear! But… isn’t this port? Can fortified wine look like this?” The liquid inside lacked any redness at all, presenting itself as clear as freshly-drawn water. “Where’s it from?” she asked. While the bottle's main label was in High Imperial, much of the text underneath was in an unknown script.

“It’s a Sabanis Dominance export,” Tos explained. “From Yogarasa. Imported into Nachon and then spread to the rest of the East. They use a special process they call clarification, where they add sothing or another and spin it in a centrifuge or sothing and”—he waved a hand—“it sohow makes it clear.”

“You can tell he listened to the salesman’s description attentively,” Dagon said, chuckling.

“Whoa!” Alia exclaid, holding up the bottle so it caught the light. “And Serena recomnded it?”

“Apparently, it’s sowhat popular in high society, seen as an exotic alternative to loqua.” Tos nodded to the bottle, continuing, “It’s supposed to taste similar to red loqua when it’s drank hot. We were lucky to get this bottle, given how much red crystal usage is controlled these days, they sell out fast.”

Alia thought back to the night she spent in Kenhoro with Serena and Aiden, where they got extrely drunk drinking fortified wine using special glasses that were designed to not be able to be placed down on a flat surface, forcing the user to keep it in their hand and keep drinking. The fortified wine was delicious then, and she was sure this exotic bottle wouldn’t fail to keep up.

“Thank you! I’ll share so with you when I open it! Maybe later if Serena allows us to have a drink.” Even though it was Christmas, given the risky skies and duties the Vengeance and its crews were undertaking, Serena wasn’t allowing its crew to consu alcohol, not wanting to risk any lapses in judgnt.

Maybe I can persuade her to have a tiny glass, Alia thought. I can just heal her afterwards, anyway!

“And there’s this small gift…” Tos said, his lip curling with amusent as he reached into his desk and brought out another present. This one was wrapped with plain paper and, judging by its shape and subtle flex, was a paperback book. “From Dagon, really, it was his idea. He thought you would… appreciate it.”

Dagon snorted. Alia watched the demon exchange a crafty glance with the quartermaster. It looked like he was trying not to snigger.

“What’s that about?” she interrogated, taking the book-shaped present.

“What?” Dagon questioned innocently.

“That look in your eye!”

“What look!?”

“...Nothing,” Alia murmured, testing the weight of the present. It was a thin book, and soon the anticipation was too great to resist and she tore open the wrapping to reveal a red-coloured book with embossed silver lettering on the front. When she read the title, the world seed to slow down as her cheeks blossod crimson. It was… it was…

“We thought you would appreciate it,” Tos said, struggling to keep his laughter in. “Given the circles you’re now in, it’s a good ti to learn, no?”

“You…” Alia began, trailing off, not knowing what to say. She looked at Dagon. She must have had so kind of intense look in her eyes because the demon threw his hands up in mock innocence.

“Hey!” he said, wiggling his hands. “We’re only thinking of you here. You’ll thank us later, won’t you? After all, the greatlords might—” Dagon spluttered with laughter, unable to control himself. Tos joined him monts later, leaving Alia alone, to once again read the title of her instructional present with bright red cheeks

On Carving.