Aegis

“The Alexandria is a strange, curious thing. Its origins lay not with being constructed by Polus hands, rather as a gift—given by Latizia Babylon, President of the Ishmahab Federation, to Ascalon on the day of his coronation. The fortress was meant to serve as a peace treaty between our nations, but the technology powering it was far too complex for our craftsmen to understand, leading to its eventual abandonment off to the kingdom’s edge.

“I had no doubt in my mind the money-crazed crone purposely sent it to insult our standing, though Ascalon thought otherwise and stopped me whenever I tried to send a complaint to that utter ghoul. What use was there in a weapon that could never be used? It only served as a reminder of our underdevelopment, and she knew this. She planned this, thinking the glorified trophy would fool us with its gilded shine.

“But I wasn’t going to allow her to demean us so easily. I tinkered with the endless steel veins despite protest from the elders, still ever so stuck in their ways, and explored every nook and corner of the fortress until finally… it moved. It roared to life. I didn’t have the chance to fully test its usefulness before I was sent off to the frontlines, but now is finally the time. Oh, if only I could see that smug hag’s face now…”

- Dame Lorelai of the Exalted Throne of Heaven

———

Lorelai

It has been a few odd days since the unveiling of the Moving Fortress Alexandria. Thankfully, the Grand General’s forces have remained passive within the confines of their capital of smog. Lorelai suspects the vile corvid has plans of his own, but for now, she must focus on preparing for departure. And to resolve the tensions between her and the King.

“Ascalon, please let me in,” she says, softly knocking on the ivory entrance of his private abode. Though he may try to hide it with feign cheerfulness, an air of melancholy has splintered free from his heart—spreading all throughout his body and transforming his spirit into one of a smothered ember. The fault lies with her. I knew my decision would bring him pain. I knew bringing up old wounds would stir his blood. But the expedition must be led by her no matter what. Lorelai will never allow Ascalon to come into harm’s way. Such is her pledge, and her duty as a Throne. No, it is more selfish than that; she simply wishes to spare him from ever dirtying his hands with blood.

A faint stirring rouses from behind the door: sudden clunking, the panicked rattle of steel, and soon, a muffled voice. “A-Ah, my apologies. I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit me.”

With a creak, Ascalon’s head peeks through the opening. She waits for him to usher her in, but he simply stands there, dazed - as if his eyes aren’t truly grasping her presence - for a rather awkward period. Just the two of them. Together. Silent.

“... Ascalon?” she questions.

“Hm? Oh, my apologies. Please, come in.” He finally pulls the door fully open and welcomes her inside with a half-hearted gesture. The room is exactly the same as she remembers it from the prior year: spacious, wide, and barren of excess furnishings. The only things of note are some paintings of previous Kings and Queens fitted upon the walls, leaving nary a space for the white marble to shine free, and a corner devoted solely to his armor’s fitting. A particularly outlandish bed with white drapes is abandoned off to the side; all else is empty space, but she can feel a phantom roaming about within—a shade of memory, of countless years in solitude swinging his zweihander until his palms are bloodied and his breath is haggard.

The room contains the essence of Ascalon’s resolve, and Lorelai has sullied it with her greed.

“What brings you over here?” he asks, struggling to remain indifferent.

“Ascalon… I know you’ve been avoiding my gaze the previous days.”

“Whatever do you mean? I haven’t—”

“I’m sorry.”

He freezes. “Lorelai…”

“I knew you wouldn’t have approved, especially since the Alexandria’s prowess is still uncertain, so I had to garner support before you could voice your dissent.”

Ascalon sighs and takes a seat by his bedside. “Am I that untrustworthy to you?”

“Of course not!” she beseeches, voice bordering on a yell. “But that’s how you’ve always been. You want to shoulder the burden yourself. You want to endure the pain so that no one else will have to suffer.”

“Then why must you—”

“You know why! What you want to achieve isn’t gallantry. No, it’s self-destructive. You want to be a martyr, Ascalon. You want to die a hero.”

Lorelai tries to remain calm, but before she knows it, the words of her heart are spilling forth without any abandon. Her frustrations and guilt are urging her to carry on, to let out her true feelings after years of watching her beloved be consumed by thoughts of inadequacy.

“And I can’t let you do that. For the people all around us that depend on you, love you, and only wish for you to remain safe. I know you despise being locked up in this castle, but we all have our roles to play.”

Ascalon hangs his head and merely stares at the floor. It pains her soul to see him like this, but she has to continue. She must make him see reason.

“…Is it so wrong a sin as to want your people to be released from worry?” he says, desperately clasping onto his last few bouts of resistance.

“Oh, Ascalon…” she whispers, seating herself by his side. “A nation is called such because the people strive together towards its prosperity. Alone, we struggle. But together, we persevere, reaching greater heights. So trust in us. Trust that we will come back safe.”

He doesn't speak. His fists shake with a clenched trembling, but eventually Ascalon allows his expression to soften and slowly lays his head on Lorelai’s shoulder.

“Do you remember what you said to me on the day we met?” he asks.

How could I not? “I promised to forever serve as your blade, as your advisor, and as a friend.”

He chuckles at the words and turns his head until a pair of radiant, amber eyes are staring directly at her own. “You’ve kept your promise well over the years, but now I must compel you for another.”

Ascalon rises up with renewed dignity and takes her hand within his. “Promise to me that you will prioritize your life above all else. No matter if the Comet’s retrieval must end in failure or the Alexandria has to be abandoned to the miasma, you will return to me: safe and in one piece. I will not allow you to leave otherwise.”

Oh, how cruel of you. To ask me this knowing I can never follow it.

But sometimes, one must utter a little white lie.

“I promise, Ascalon. No matter what, I will return.”

Her words are genuine in a sense, though not exactly to his expectation. She will bring back the Comet; her success is already guaranteed in her mind, for to think otherwise is to invite the inevitability of failure. A knight must be steadfast in their will, or they will falter. And they will perish.

The sorrow lurking around him begins to dissipate, now replaced with a hesitant faith - faith that she will keep her word. “Go, Lorelai. You still have much to prepare.”

She stands up and, with a composed wave, bids the King a heavy-hearted goodbye. The door closes, and he disappears back into his solitary bastion.

Fret not, my beloved. Once I return, there shall be no need for you to suffer ever again.

———

Lorelai

A familiar scent of freshly-baked breads and simmering stews wafts through the air as Lorelai strolls down the busy wards of the Castrum. It has been far too long since she has been able to have a meal and relax in the comfort of her birthplace, but despite the eager gestures and calls from bar hands tempting her in, she has another destination in mind.

Eventually, she arrives at the main gate serving as the city’s checkpoint. An ever-constant flow of merchants and farmers from the outer territories move in and out at a sluggish pace as they’re thoroughly examined by the knight guards. Their identity, their background, and even the contents of their wares are all heavily scrutinized before being allowed entry. It is a slow, but necessary, process; the Grand General’s scouts are always attempting to worm their way in, and a modicum of vigilance is all it takes to prevent their inner affairs from leaking.

That being said, I don’t quite have the time to stand here the entire morning. Fortunately for her, bearing the title of Throne allows for certain… exceptions.

It is time to abuse her authority.

As she approaches, the knights quickly fall to their knees and bow their heads. “Greetings to you, o’ Exalted Throne of the Heaven’s Peak.”

“You may raise,” she says, donning the aura of a stoic leader. “I must attend to the construct on the outskirts with due haste. I trust there are no complications?”

“But of course, Madam Lorelai. The passage shall always be open to you.”

Heheh, I apologize caravaners, but a Throne’s duty is important indeed.

“However, we do require a quick check of your identity before we allow your leave.”

Damn. Lorelai supposes it’s a good thing the standards of the guards aren’t lacking in discipline.

“Will this do?” She unsheathes the Solga and Lunas from her waist side and presents it for the knights to see. The blades squirm and shimmer in her hands, upset with the undignified manner of their display, but it does the trick and the gatekeepers quickly part way and allow her through. With a triumphant stride, she marches in and walks out into the open plain. Blue skies and an endless expanse of yellow fields greet her, alongside the dormant Alexandria tucked away to the side. A large group surrounds the fortress, carrying in supplies and equipment as they prepare for the coming departure, and as Lorelai approaches, a female knight in auburn armor quickly rushes out to meet her.

“You’re finally here, Lorelai,” the knight teases. “Honestly, you’re such a cruel taskmaster, suddenly asking me to bring this big piece of junk all the way from the border. Is it so hard to grace this poor, unfortunate lady with your presence after all she’s done for you? For shame, Madam.”

She chuckles at the so-called unfortunate lady and gives her a big hug. “Thank you for answering my request, Celia. And don’t think I wasn’t busy myself! I had to spend the entire night signing a mountain of documents before the elders would finalize the expedition.”

“Hoh? So you were sitting by your bedside all nice and comfortable like while I was busy slaving away trying to get this ol’ thing running away?”

“Well, we could always trade places if you’d like.”

Celia composes herself with mock consideration before delivering a tiny flick at Lorelai’s helm. “On second thought, I think I’ll pass. I’m not suited for stuffy administrative work.”

“Truly? Wow, who would have ever thought?” Lorelai laughs.

“Hey! I could do it if I put my mind to it. There’s just more important things to worry about.”

“Your semester scores at the academy would imply otherwise.”

“Alright, Ms. Valedictorian. No need to remind me of my terrible past. Besides, I’m doing just fine now teaching the new Seraph recruits. Well, I was before someone begged me to go on a trip to forbidden lands with them.”

“I could think of none other I trust more to serve by my side. Someone smart. Someone brave. Someone… fearless.”

“Hmm? Is that so? I see, I see…” she murmurs, poorly attempting to hide her delight. “Well, I couldn’t just deny a request from an old friend. But are you sure you wanna use the Alexandria for this? Sure, it can move, but we weren’t able to test out all of its functions before you left.”

“As long as it holds firm against the miasma. Are the defenses working properly, at the very least?”

“Some of them. I was able to get the barrier incantation up and running, but I wouldn’t count on it much. It needs to be operated by a constant group of Astrologians for it to work, and if it takes enough of a beating, it’ll short-circuit the core and stop working. One use against something big is all we’ll get from it.”

“I see… what about the aerial armaments?”

Celia sheepishly crosses her arms. “Um, not good. I understand the general theory of it, using condensed force to produce a massive ray of energy, but I have no idea how the President managed to make it work. It doesn’t feed off of Creation’s influence, rather a separate source that has to be inserted beforehand, but what exactly that source is I haven’t the foggiest. For now, it’s just scrap.”

Lorelai sighs and looks up at the towering construct. Curse you, Latizia. It appears we fell straight into your trap. But even so, the Alexandria is their best hope at retrieving the Comet. It comforts her knowing the old hag would likely snarl in fury if she were to discover that her ‘gift’ shall prove useful after all.

“That is unfortunate, but we must make do with what we have. Is there anything else of concern on your mind?”

“Nope, everything else is working as intended,” she says after pondering to herself for a moment. “If anything, I'm worried about the people onboard. We only have two hundred of the Seraph with us since we can’t deprive the forces down south too much, and the rest of the roster is being filled up with wingless knights from the other orders. If the Alexandria goes down, then…”

“It won’t come to that, Celia.” No matter what, one must remain steadfast in their will. Hesitation is not allowed.

“Ack, you’re right,” she exclaims. “No point thinking of doom and gloom. We’re already almost done with the inventory checks, anyway. Just gotta work on a couple of tweaks and then we’re good to go.”

“Hehe, quick as always. When do you believe the Alexandria will be fully supplied?”

“Hm? Probably by nightfall.”

“Great, then that shall also be our departure date.”

Celia freezes, muttering to herself before grasping Lorelai’s shoulders and shaking her like a madwoman.

“W-We’re leaving today!?” she exclaims. “Lorelai, we’ve barely just started training the knights. Those steel-brained fools can barely find their way inside the fortress, much less operate it.”

“Then they’ll have to learn on the spot,” she says while calming her down. “The later we depart, the more likely it is the Grand General will discover our plans. We have to go now before he can respond.”

Celia attempts to say another word, but stops after Lorelai stares at her with an unbending stubbornness. “… Hah, you’ve always been a dogged fellow. Fine, I’ll tell the others to pack it up as soon as they can.”

“Thank you, for going along with my stubbornness,” she whispers, moving in for another hug.

“Yeah yeah, get off me. I’m used to it by now.”

Celia squirms out of the hold and beckons her towards the fortress. It truly is an awe-inspiring sight, looking at it up close. Latizia may be a vexing person, but no one can deny her artistry. That is the one compliment Lorelai will allow herself to utter about the hag.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Celia calls out, already standing on the fortress’s entryway. “Come on in. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the inside, right? I’ll give you a little guided tour before we set off.”