ARC 6-Winter War-130
“How did it co to this…”
That’s the question I want to ask. Our journey to the north was ant to be a simple thing. The equivalent of the social hunts in Sumr Spire, where people of far more status than ability ride around in their well-furnished carriages, drinking the day away while servants and guards do their hunting for them.
They bring back a nice trophy to show off to their friends while recounting the life-threatening heroics they never perford. Pretty n and won fawn over them and thoughtless peasants believe the exaggerated rumors they purposely spread to bolster their reputations in order to counter the likely much more true negative rumors surrounding them.
That should have been . I enjoy a pleasant walk through the scenic snow with Alana, build a nice little love nest for us to enjoy for winters to co along with so tall walls and fortified buildings for the knights to stay in, and then win the favor of her family before returning with plenty of war stories to bolster my reputation. We return to our ho at the Grand Hall with fond mories and no trouble.
How far we’ve co from that. Our pleasant walk beca a slog through a horrible, monster-infested wasteland. Monsters I thoroughly underestimated. Monsters that are actual threats. I didn’t think anything on this continent could challenge . Heh, if I’m being honest, I might have thought there were few things in the world that could threaten now. I was very wrong.
So, not the easy-going stroll I thought it would be. Far more stressful than I anticipated. Worse, we had to abandon any thoughts of building anything in the north after learning of the delicate peace enforced by the Lords of Winter, the estrazi. A group we know little about. A situation that has potential implications for the safety of the world if the vague warnings of Khan are to be believed.
There’s also little chance of impressing her family. Oh, I’m sure our strength works strongly in our favor. Unfortunately, I’m sure that is going to be overshadowed by the fact that I’m dragging away the duke’s daughter. Alana chose her life with over her duty to her family. Maybe not forever. I’m sure with so ti, training, and more information, she’d be more than willing to fight alongside her father. Too bad he isn’t offering those things. The duke demands imdiate and unquestioned loyalty. He also does not strike as the forgiving type.
I won’t even ntion her mother. That is a thorny relationship if I’ve ever seen one. If I were the understanding type, I’d say the harsh words she flung at her daughter were said in the heat of the mont, a product of shock and hurt having her ambitions for her daughter, a noble’s love, rejected. I’m not very understanding. In my eyes, she seems like a manipulative, bitter bitch but I keep my opinion to myself. Alana has a complicated relationship with her mother. One I am not confident probing without protection, or at least a healthy amount of caution.
I sigh beside her, sprawled out on my back atop her bed. We’ve been lying here since the disastrous conversation, trying to relax. It hasn’t worked. Alana might as well be a wooden board. Kierra left to bring back drinks, having beco fed up with the tense silence. She’s going to bludgeon Alana’s feelings until she loses the battle to keep her composure. Before that happens, I have a different approach in mind.
“What do you think about going to Dusk next year?”
Alana turns to look at from the corner of her eye. “Dusk? Kierra’s ho, right?”
“Mm. I’ve been saying we should visit. We didn’t get the chance to stay long after the wedding and I should spend so ti getting to know her family.” No matter how anxiety-inducing the thought is.
“Speaking of families, I still haven’t t yours.”
“You aren’t missing out on much.”
She huffs. “That’s a terrible way to talk about your father.”
“I don’t…” I reconsider my words given the most recent encounter with her parents. “My father isn’t a bad man. He also isn’t a great man. Truly, he is quite the average man with an above average interest in his passion. And our relationship is also average. Ah, for nobles. Which as I’m sure you know ans we barely interacted. Hard to find sothing to brag about.”
“…you don’t talk about your mother much.”
“That’s because there’s even less to talk about there.” I shift, feeling a sudden bout of uncomfortableness. Alana stops my fiddling by turning on her side and throwing an arm over my stomach. I really don’t like talking about this but, given I want her to open up, it can’t hurt for to do the sa.
“It’s not a long story. When my father was not a grumpy, old man, he attended the Grand Hall to further his career as a summoner. There he t a lovely young woman who had failed at being a caster and thought to try her luck with summoning. Which, according to Father, is the way the Summoner Hall gets most of its attending acolytes.
As a traditional summoner, he wowed her with his knowledge, or so he says. Managed to convince a woman to sleep with him without a financial exchange being involved, or so he says. Makes wonder what kind of pervert my mother was.”
“She did give birth to you.”
I poke her in the chest as she chuckles. “You’re supposed to deny that. You need so advice on how to sweet talk won.”
“Oh, and you’re an expert?”
“I seduced you, didn’t I?”
“Mm.” Her smile wanes. “What happened?”
I wouldn’t have protested if she let the conversation change directions but I suppose that is too much to ask for. I move closer to her, hoping the comfort will quiet the itch in my heart. “The danger of summoning doesn’t co from the elentals. With the right knowledge, preparation, and caution, a summoner can handle anything that appears in their circle. Things go wrong when they beco overconfident. Overestimating yourself, thinking you can handle sothing you’re not prepared for, is what gets you in trouble.
“Apparently, my mother was too ambitious for her own good. A common sin but deadly when put together with overconfidence and summoning. To this day, Father refuses to tell what she was trying to contract. Knowing most amateur summoners, it was big and powerful. Big and powerful usually ans either conniving or aggressive. It’s a rare thing that strong elentals are peaceful. Rolly is one in a million. My succubi are the norm. Ah, well. They’re a little worse than usual.” Saints, I’m rambling.
“To make this sad story short, Father got my poor mother pregnant but refused to marry her. Didn’t change his mind after she gave birth. That must have driven her a little crazy because she summoned sothing she really shouldn’t have. All I know is that she walked into a room and didn’t co out. Thankfully, Father proved to have a heart and took in.” I shrug. “And that’s all I know.”
“That’s it? Don’t…the two of you ever talk about her? What she liked or—"
“Father isn’t a very warm person,” I interrupt. “We don’t hug, we don’t write each other letters, and we never discuss our feelings unless it’s how much we hate, or hated, the Grimoires. I…I don’t know if he loved her but they were close at so point. Talking about how his abandoning her, at least romantically, stirred her into a reckless summoning and left without a mother makes him more uncomfortable than it makes .”
“Ah.” A thick silence brews between us until she puts a hand on my head, awkwardly patting . Thankfully, it only takes a few seconds before she reverts to the more natural motion of running her fingers through my hair. “My mother is the opposite of cold. When I was younger, we were always together. Even for all her work. Cooking als, doing laundry, cleaning houses. We shared a bed and she told stories about heroes. And my father.”
She sighs. “The way she talked about him, Lou. She made him sound like the greatest man to ever walk the north. She managed to fra being a bastard as a blessing. It wasn’t his fault we lived in a communal house for servants. Tradition kept him from accepting us and bringing us to live in his nice, big house. But when I proved myself, I could be his daughter. A Jas.
“She…may seem callous but she believes it, Lou. Everything she says. Being a Jas, being duchess, ans everything to her. It is the best future she can imagine. And…maybe she wants that for herself, deep down.” Ooh. Glad I don’t have to broach that toxic topic. “Maybe she prayed day and night that I’d be her way to power and status. But it’s better than her telling I’d never do anything greater than buffing armor. Or…encouraging to follow in her footsteps.”
Saints, I can’t imagine it. Although, imagining a seductress Alana isn’t bad. Not bad at all.
“You’re thinking sothing indecent right now, aren’t you?”
“No. What do you take for? We’re having a mont.”
The hand in my hair gives a little tug. “On top of being easy to read, you are a horrible liar.”
“Can we go back to bonding over our questionable childhoods?”
She chuckles but the sound doesn’t contain much humor. “There isn’t much more to tell. I thought I would have to prove myself in the campaigns to be recognized by my father. The Moons test every child during their twelfth year, eager to find every talented soldier they can. My mother was with when we found out about my light affinity. That very day, she marched to the Jas estate. I waited with Bulliard while she tried to see my father.”
“Tried?”
“Eleanor stopped her.”
“Ah.” Don’t need her to elaborate, I can easily imagine that conversation. Didn’t Alana say Eleanor used to be aner? Saints.
“Yeah, ah. We went ho very quickly. My mother tried not to let see but she was…unhappy. And then completely shocked when a servant asked us to co to the house a few days later. I have never seen her as happy as when my father agreed to give the Jas na and officially recognize . She was moved to tears.
“Of course seeing her that happy made happy. And when I was told that I couldn’t stay in the house, I was devastated. I thought it was my fault, as I’d been taught all my life that a Jas can do no wrong. It’s why I put up with the hard work. The pain. Yulia.”
She sighs. “Really, I feel bad for Mama. She’s never been outside of Victory. Not once. Fixating on status may seem shallow but here, there’s only power and status and she’s definitely not a fighter—"
“Alana, please. You don’t have to explain it to . It might be rare here but I grew up near the capital. Status-seeking is the norm.”
“Mm. Well, it’s her dream. And I just abandoned it.”
“Hey.” I put a hand on her cheek. “You haven’t done anything wrong. People aren’t obligated to live for their families.”
“You’re one to talk. Who is it that was going to attend the Grand Hall because of her father?”
“The alternative was being married off in the capital.”
“Could have said no.”
“And be a broke summoner with no background? No. Figured I take my chances at the Hall. Maybe find romance like Father. Preferably a rich, beautiful woman with a fondness for pure-hearted maidens.”
Alana snickers. “Pure-hearted.”
“You laugh but the saints heard . I found exactly that. Sure, she bites but no one’s perfect.”
Her snickers turn to chuckles. “Ancestors. What a pair we make. I can’t wait to get out of here. And I never thought I would say this but I’m not eager to co back. Seers and dragons. Damn it all to the Abyss and back, I’d rather deal with that elf’s family.”
“I agree but the seer only wins by a slim margin. And, uh, we can stop by the capital first. See my father. The rest of my family, too. If you want.”
“Sure, Lou. That’d be nice.”
The door slams open as Kierra enters, a barrel under her arm. Another barrel floats behind her. Oh wait. That’s Bell underneath it. Three cups are held in her tail.
“Oh?” The elf sets down her burden. “The two of you have already cleared the air. Have I wasted a journey?”
“You’re right on ti.” I sit up. “Bring the shroom juice. We still have a report to write.”
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