“How then, would we define our people? By our buildings? Grand works that rival the Myndiri, that reach for the Goddess herself. By our efforts? Vast armies marching to conqueror even the horizons themselves. By our character? That aid was given and arms opened wide for those that seek shelter. How will we be remembered? What will our children define us by?”

  - Patalan Socrin, Potomian Philosopher, “Dialectics On The State Of The World”

  Mila furrowed her brow, her eyes scanning over her bags once more. One large rucksack with most of her clothes and armors, and smaller side bag to carry any equipment not meant to be directly strapped to her. Not that it changed what she wore much. It was either her inquisitorial armor for the more important moments, her adventuring leathers for average travel, or the leather chestpiece and tunic for the rare days that they wouldn’t be in much danger.

  On the bright side, the journey meant that she no longer needed to hide her inquisitorial blade either. No use trying to use the average adventurer’s blade to fight what might be more undead and death knights. She shuddered at the unpleasant memory, the people that screamed in agony, the dead and the dying. All for one knight.

  Goddess give us strength, she closed her eyes for a brief prayer, for the trials and tribulations ahead of us all. Her eyes wandered over to a map she had pinned to the side of her room. To anyone else, it was nothing more than a map of Cyndralia, nations and capitals marked. Maybe a few questions about the strange squiggles and lines that delineated natural formations, but likely nothing more. To her, it was a cold reminder of the threats that still lurked, and only the ones that were made overtly known to her by the church. Barbarians near the Starfall mountains, undead in the eastern lands, the plagued to the north-east, and the cross in the north. The Dark Tide.

  She growled to herself, a deeper frown etching itself on her face. Even now, she didn’t forget what the Traxian minister had announced in the conference with the princess, if the others' recollections were accurate. She wasn’t surprised that the Imperials knew, after all, the empire was no slouch when it came to trying to extend their reach across Cyndralia. What caught her off guard was his willingness in telling the gathered crowd. Sophie had informed her of the people present and she noted no one that fortunately for all involved, there was likely no on there that the Traxians would likely see as useful for their own causes.

  So why share that? Does he intend to cause chaos? It’s not like any of those there could do much more than report back. Even less so if their reports aren’t heeded. Scowling, she found a spare pen and scribbled a few words on a half crumpled piece of paper. Something else to keep an eye out about. But…

  It was a growing problem. At least, based on what little briefings she did receive from the Inquisition since her ‘break’. There were more and more reports that had the words ‘cult’ tacked on. Mostly censored reports that detailed nothing of import. Yet, although it might mean little to an outsider, to the church’s officials, it meant that these incidents involved the attempted summoning of entities from beyond human reach. Rather, cults were usually semi-organized or outright fully organized groups. But they used the word ‘cult’ without an emphasis on the plural. It meant a united entity of sorts, greater than any she had any experiences with.

  I just hope that we’re all ready for when things take a turn for the worse. So much chaos and plots and machinations everywhere already. All happening at once. No guiding hand, just… she frowned, unnerved by her own conclusion. It’s like what Lord Von Krantz during my training, that sometimes things progress neatly together is but mere coincidence. But coincidence nudged together by fate, like two inventors creating something at the same time on the opposite side of the world. Except in this case, the tendrils of darkness seem to be taking hold of everywhere all at once.

  Our responses so far have been limited at best. With the main thrust of the troubles up north and in the east however, I wonder how many are left for here and the west. The empire is handling it themselves, we can assume. Based on the fact that the minister told them so openly.

  A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She hastily moved towards her mirror and quickly practiced keeping a small smile instead of her usual scowl, though she always looked awkward doing so. Another knock hastened her even more and she practiced one last motion before walking up to let her guest in.

  “Coming!” She called out.

  The bolt unlatched and she turned the knob to pull it open. Her eyes immediately widened at who she saw. Instead of Sophie or Elaria coming to inquire about preparations, or perhaps even Hanabi to discuss plans about how to continue taking guild commissions or security concerns regarding those who would remain here at the Academy. She found a disgruntled looking Traxian standing in front of her.

  Intrigued and somewhat baffled, she waited for the former princess to speak. To her disappointment, it would seem that the girl in question was doing the exact same thing. Mila frowned, giving the bridge of her nose a small pinch in preparation for a potential disaster or calamity to be reported. Reassured of her own sanity in the moment, she cautiously nodded her assent to give the Traxian encouragement to speak.

  Lucinia shifted uncomfortably before letting out a small cough.

  “Must I remain out here?” The Traxian nudged her head towards the room’s interior.

  Mila held back a sigh, stepping aside and motioning for her to enter..

  Lucinia obliged, though her gait was noticeably stiff, her posture unnaturally poised despite the clearly unexpected visit. Once the girl entered and began setting what little things she had on the table, Mila took the opportunity to peek outside her doorway. Scanning the hallway for intruders or people who otherwise held ill intent, she found no traces beyond that of the occasional student or staff. She mumbled under her breath, a small curse interlaced to hide a quick spell activation.

  Her eyes flared blue for a moment, the mana rich air around the Academy almost overwhelming her. She grunted, gritting her teeth to hide the headache that now wracked her skull. Stars above! But once again, amidst the cacophony of colors that swirled all around, she could see no fluctuations or at least fluctuations that would indicate recent use.

  The singular second ticked by and the Academy’s natural wards began taking its toll. She could feel her powers being suppressed and stripped away and quickly spun around to examine her guest. The only conclusion she could draw before her reserves ran dry was that nothing seemed odd. Purples, blues, consistent, even. Not-

  “Grah.” Mila gasped, collapsing to the floor while clutching at her head.

  Before Lucinia could even voice her alarm, Mila preempted her and pointed a weak hand at the door.

  “Close.” She groaned.

  Lucinia worriedly obliged, slamming the door shut with perhaps a tinge too much force. Though Mila cared little for the rattle in the room that it caused.

  “Are you…?” Lucinia hesitantly approached.

  Mila just let out another pained groan, listlessly brushing off the concern. Taking charge of the situation, she hoisted herself towards the side of her bed, using it to prop herself up. Least she looks genuinely worried, stars that hurts, Mila grunted.

  Lucinia just stood awkwardly. Too worried to back away, but not friendly or close enough to approach without instruction. Mila could almost chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Her, leaning weakly against a bed while nursing her head. The former princess just staring and gawking. It certainly was a scenario that she’d never imagined could happen or prepared for. Not that it mattered, there were more pressing concerns.

  “I’m fine.” She reassured Lucinia, “Fine.” She forced the words out from under gritted teeth.

  “I… okay… do you need… water or something?” Lucinia managed to ask.

  Mila grunted, pointing towards her desk. The Traxian brought over a small flask and she eagerly snatched it and gulped down the contents. It had been chilled by simply being out too long and normally an irritatingly low temperature for the weather. In this moment however, it was like a delectable balm to soothe her arching head.

  “Thanks.” She mumbled.

  With the immediate danger having passed, Lucinia cautiously moved towards the table to take a seat. The imperial was still on guard, though Mila suspected that it was for an entirely different reason at this point. So much for welcoming people with a smile, Mila scowled at herself.

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  “What was that?” Lucinia questioned.

  Mila paused, the ache in her head slowly going away. Checking people for mana levels outside of official settings could be considered rude at best if not outright offensive. Doubly so for those outside of a mage circle and for practitioners.

  She sighed to herself. Whatever justifications she searched for, the truth was always the most reliable option.

  “You looked worried, check for hostiles nearby. No one, that’s good.” She answered.

  Lucinia did not look offended. Though whether that was through ignorance of her means or other worries, Mila could not yet ascertain.

  “Then the attack…?”

  “Used manasight to be sure. Forgot about the Academy wards.” Mila confessed.

  “Ah.” Lucinia nodded in understanding, the imperial looking more calm than she expected.

  “So? What brings you here?”

  Lucinia glanced over at the bags that Mila had packed. Though her face didn’t show it, her eyes failed to hide the grimace behind them. She didn’t seem distressed though, more concerned if anything. Troubled, Mila warily motioned for the girl to speak. Preparing herself for a problem or two that should’ve been easy to solve.

  “Lady Lyudmilla…”

  “Just Mila, and what is it?” Mila scowled.

  “Uhh, but isn’t that too informal?” Lucinia frowned.

  Mila shrugged, catching herself halfway and stopping to scowl at herself. I’ve been around them too much. I’ve become much too familiar with people.

  “Do what you want, I don’t mind. So?”

  Lucinia straightened her back, the girl finally appearing comfortable enough to divulge whatever was bothering.

  “I must ask you for a favor.” She stated resolutely.

  “Okay? What is it?” Mila asked, a small sense of curiosity bubbling to the surface. A former princess needs a favor, how intriguing.

  Lucinia swallowed her breath and pride. The Traxian then slowly but surely raised her finger to point at Mila’s bags. Confused, the Inquisitor couldn’t hold back the small cock of her head. That prompted the Traxian to sigh.

  “I confess, I do not know what might be required of me. Nor what I should bring. Thus, I… I am asking for your help to arrange the necessary supplies and items for this excursion of ours.”

  Mila sat there, stunned. What? Need supplies for the excursion? Does she mean the visit?

  “Huh?” Her words matched her thoughts.

  Lucinia shuffled a little more, the confidence now leaving her. Whether it be at the absurdity of the idea or the genuineness, Mila couldn’t. Only that she was absolutely baffled at how to process the information.

  “Let me try to understand. You need my help.” Mila responded.

  Lucinia nodded.

  “To pack. For the trip to Gratia.” She finished.

  Lucinia nodded again.

  “So you came to me. The Inquisitor. Assuming I had nothing better to do?” Mila clicked her tongue indignantly.

  At this the Traxian shook her head emphatically.

  “No, no. You are my last resort. I wouldn’t bother someone of your station with something so trivial.” Lucinia admitted, looking only a little ashamed.

  “Then…?”

  “Lady Kastiane. The bard one, and her folk are out in town. Or so I assume, for I could not find them.”

  “And your assistant?”

  “I am no longer of the empire, Lady Lyu… Mila. Lady Mila.” Lucinia repeated, trying to get used to the casualness of their new titles, “I would not burden her with this and by extension associating herself improperly.”

  That was a little saddening to hear, even for Mila. Still, it didn’t explain why the Traxian came to her for such an asinine request. Annoyed yet curious, she prodded for more information.

  “Okay? And what about the others?”

  Something clearly happened, for the girl’s face suddenly turned a shade of scarlet. Is she afraid of something? Now worried, Mila managed to push herself off the ground, having finally recovered from her headache. She walked over and wore an expression of concern.

  “What happened?” She demanded.

  Lucinia looked away. So it is fear.

  “Miss Trax.” Mila prodded, adopting a more formal tone to put the Traxian at ease.

  Lucinia chuckled nervously and sucked in a breath.

  “They… they were… engaged in…”

  “In?”

  The Traxian seemed aghast at Mila’s question, irritating the Inquisitor.

  “Go on.” She commanded.

  “They were engaged in coital activities. Based on the sounds I heard from the doorway.” Lucinia buried her face in her hands, her ears bright red.

  “Coital? Do you… ah.” Mila’s brain finally caught up. The message was now fully received.

  “Exactly.” The girl hissed, “I wasn’t going to just knock.”

  Mila’s head hung low as she pulled away. So she came to me because the others were occupied. The closest one to her is also Sophie is now… gah! Mila let out her own flustered groan as an unfortunate image grappled at the edges of her sanity.

  “I see.” She managed to grunt out.

  The two sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Lucinia was likely just nervous whereas Mila was still fighting the mental image trying to make itself known. Stop it you, she chided herself.

  Only after an extended moment of silence did she manage to regain some of her composure.

  “Right. Right.” She mumbled, mostly to herself, but also to reassure the Traxian that she was indeed alive.

  The Traxian also mumbled something under her breath but Mila didn’t catch it. Not that it mattered. The course ahead of her was set.

  She sighed. So much for a day of preparing on my own. Her shoulders sagged in slight disappointment, yet mixed with a dash of intrigue at getting a chance to pick at the psyche of the former princess.

  Her mind made up, she let out an exaggerated but entirely accurate disparaging click of her tongue to indicate her judgement of the whole situation.

  “Lady Mila?” Lucinia asked.

  “Fine. I suppose we can’t just carry you on our backs. It would seem the responsibility of teaching you the basics, at least, strangely falls upon my shoulders.” Mila smirked, or at least hoped she wasn’t scowling.

  Her eyes drifted to the clock in the room. It was already well past lunch and into the afternoon. Though she supposed she didn’t really have any pressing plans for the day.

  “Get whatever you need for a trip to town, then meet me in front of this dorm in half an hour.”

  Lucinia failed to hide her surprise at the agreement that they had reached. The doubt on the Traxian’s face somehow irritated Mila more than anything that had happened.

  “Don’t tarry now, get moving. We’re on a schedule here.” She ordered.

  “Of course. Thank you, Lady… Mila.” Lucinia spoke as she stood back out.

  In a flash, the Traxian was gone. Back out the door and disappearing almost like she hadn’t even been here.

  Mila groaned one last time. Accursed hells, why did I even agree? What a strange bloody day this is turning out to be. She pinched the bridge of her nose to be certain that she was actually alive and that this was real. It unfortunately was.

  “Limit your budget.” Mila growled.

  There was no hiding her scowl anymore. She was now more certain than ever of one thing. The Traxian had never really done much work in person. Lucinia was no longer a princess nor supported by generous state stipends. She only had what was left and she hasn’t been paid anything because the Lily Knights hadn’t gotten any commissions done in the month since the conference.

  Luinica appeared mildly offended at the suggestion and the two glared at each other. They both had their own methods of operating and requirements. Neither, it seemed, were especially eager to budge.

  Lucinia was semi-practical, that much Mila understood from the way the princess’s eyes loitered around useful items. She had a base level of understanding hidden within her. Unfortunately, her other half desired comfort, opulence, and a certain classiness not easily found on the path of an adventurer.

  A problem now reflected by their current predicament. Lucinia wanted at least one thing that could be placed squarely on a level of comfort. The humble bed roll made from common skins or canvas, an item that could be set up upon the ground for some quick, if somewhat uncomfortable resting. That is, unless one had their ambitions set squarely upon a delicately sturdy linen roll stuffed with wool and expertly sealed to protect it from the elements. A masterwork amongst the bedrolls in the city, with a price reflecting the quality and comfort.

  “Just get the normal. This one alongside other essentials would mean you’d have barely anything else with you.” Mila pointed at a standard bedroll made of skins, "Or if anything, that one at most." She gestured to a leather made one.

  “Perhaps. But what else could be more important than proper rest? You’ve implied as much that we’re likely to face a multitude of foes. We’ll need all the rest we can get.”

  “Ugh, that’s not…” Mila began before catching herself responding instead with only a disappointed shake of her head, “Whatever. Get what you want.” She waved her hand dismissively.

  Delighted to have won their spat, Lucinia became like a hound. Sniffling out and appraising each item for all their worth. Mila simply despaired at the possibility of misusing what few funds she allocated for this trip. She rolled her eyes when she spotted Lucinia now lingering over a particularly ornate looking tent that screamed of luxury that they wouldn’t be able to afford.

  It had to be me to babysit the princess, huh? What a sorry day. She grumbled to herself. No matter. She paled as the former princess wandered over to an even more upscale looking market stall. Stars grant me strength, she mumbled out a small It's going to be a long day.