Discordant Note | TBATE

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Arthur Leywin

I trundled from the sickroom, leaving Tessia behind as the door closed. Her final words rang in my head like thorn-filled vines.

I'll wait.

Questions and worries about what to do next swirled in my head like those effervescent visions I'd been having of my past life. All the while, Grey watched me from the sidelines.

I groaned, pressing my face into my hands as I fought to keep a lid on my rising fears and uncertainties.

"Arthur," Sylvie thought to me, concerned and uncertain as I failed to keep my dread to myself. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

I stood still in the hallway, the darting particles of ambient mana around me bathing me in their subtle hues. No, Sylv, I replied mournfully, still weighing the veracity of Tess' subtle demands. No, I'm not.

My bond couldn't come to me now. She was busy keeping Taci occupied, and if she returned, so too would the pantheon. So instead of explaining it all, I let my memories of the past few minutes trickle by over our bond.

She listened. She always listened. I could feel her happiness as she sensed how I'd opened up to Tess, grateful that I'd taken that terrifying step. She felt my uncertainty as Tess led me towards Virion's medical wing, then deeper worries as Tess continued to speak. Continued to make sense.

And when she saw Tess' ultimate demand—her ultimate proposition for what would see us through this war and curtail Agrona's plans—her mind slammed to a halt, too.

It's foolish, I argued, staring upward. I could sense Tess back in the room, sitting back near Virion. She didn't appear nearly as rattled and unsettled by our talk as I was. Or not in the same way. It's just another attempt of hers to try and put herself in danger. Just like it was with Goodsky. She's just trying to do the same thing she's always done.

Sylvie didn't respond for a moment. But when she did, her words washed away the anger I'd been wearing like a shield.

"We both know that's not why she's done this," Sylv thought back. "If it was just another attempt to make herself useful or a desire to prove herself, you wouldn't have such internal turmoil."

That's not true, I thought stubbornly. It's…

"I can read your thoughts, Arthur," Sylvie said back somberly. "Tessia isn't the same as when we last saw her. She's willing to sacrifice herself for the good of this continent, whether that be in war or being locked away. It's just that being a Lance…"

My bond's words trailed off, but she didn't need to finish that sentence. Because being a Lance is the best way for Tess to serve this continent.

She'd read my memories. The moment my childhood friend had offered herself to be my Lance, I could feel Grey's teeth sink deeply into the idea.

If Tessia were to become my Lance, it would essentially ensure the loyalty of all of Elenoir. Already, Alduin was willing to bend the knee to my rule, but not out of loyalty. It was out of exhaustion and desperation, and he could be swayed by the other elves. If Tessia were to become my Lance, I would functionally bind the elven kingdom to me—and set a precedent for their subservience to my commands. After all, their princess would obey me. Power would be further centralized around my authoritarian regime.

And Tessia was powerful. At the mid-silver stage, she was one of the most powerful non-Lance mages Dicathen had, if not the most powerful. To keep her locked away in the castle or Zestier effectively wasted a powerful asset. And if she were to become a Lance in the white core, I could imagine her eclipsing even Varay in strength in due time. She would become a powerful military force, able to be sent anywhere across the continent.

That was especially important, considering with my rise to power, I stood in a position that didn't allow me to take the same risks and make the same actions as a Lance. While Dicathen had gained a King, there was a power vacuum left with the elves. Tess could more than fill that void.

And if Agrona ever captured her and tried to make her into the Legacy? Well, a simple snap would see an asset broken.

Those were the logical reasons. The dictator's reasons who only saw control and power. Those all called to me, from every side of the Greyscale shade of my past.

But it wasn't just Grey who wanted to accept her offer. I did, too.

Because if Tess was a white core mage, she could protect herself. She'd be powerful enough to fight anything that might try and harm her, be they Retainer or Scythe. She'd be safe.

And I could send her away, too. I could order her to shelter herself in some far-distant reach of the Beast Glades, outside and away from civilization. It was just as valid an order as sending her into combat against the Alacryans. Just like Virion had done, I could rationalize it away. Agrona wouldn't be able to get his Legacy. Cecilia wouldn't be brought back by a megalomaniacal god.

"But we both know that wouldn't work," Sylvie said softly. "That's part of why you took up your position as Commander. Because we both know that no matter where she goes on this continent, she won't be outside Agrona's reach. The attack in Zestier proved that."

I snarled, resisting the urge to slam a punch into the wall and destroy it. I stalked away from the medical wing, feeling the need to move.

And the ultimate reason I didn't want to take this offer… The ultimate reason was because I was afraid of what I'd do with that power. I'd already moved Mom and Dad to Xyrus with covert excuses, and they didn't even know I'd done so.

The relationships between Tessia and I had always felt… Unbalanced, in some ways. I was a man with memories of another life, while she'd been a girl enjoying her youth. I could never give her what she wanted, because it would have been wrong. I outweighed her in martial experience. In leadership experience. In real-world experience. So many things were unbalanced.

But if I were to be her King and she my Lance, could we ever have a relationship of any kind? Could I even still call her friend? If I took this option, was it the first step to me becoming Grey again?

I've already taken the first step, I thought darkly. I bear a crown on my head.

What do I do, Sylv? I asked, wanting to melt into a puddle. I could imagine my skin and muscles seeping from my bones like wax, my bones crumbling to ash as everything that kept me together washed away. 

My bond was silent for a long, long time. "I don't know, Arthur," she finally admitted. "I don't know. I… I'll think. I promise. But I'll stand by any decision you make, I swear it."

I swallowed, feeling Grey's empty eyes judging me. It contrasted so darkly with Sylvie's acceptance and love. I never thought I'd felt the contrast as deeply as I did right then. The two pulls of my lives, present and future as they waited on my decision.

My eyes drifted away from the phantom of King Grey as I continued to walk, my mind in turmoil.

The glimmering motes of red fire mana clung to the torches all along the medical wing of the castle, hiding within the dancing orange. Yellow earth particles rolled like boulders across the floor, coalescing like landslides. Blue water mana drifted with the green wind energy as they danced lightly through the atmosphere.

And beneath and behind and within and beyond it all, the purple motes of aether swirled.

The mana had always seemed welcoming and helpful to me. It was always ready to answer my call and assist me in my endeavors. Even more so as I embraced my manaborne forms and embroiled myself in what it was to be each element, I could pinpoint what each element would say about my current predicament.

Fire would tell me to burn away all my enemies, to never sit still and let them approach. I should use them all as fuel in the inferno of my glory. Earth would tell me to subsume my thoughts and bury them in the graveyard of action. Water would say the same, too. Drown them all. Don't allow them to breathe. Wind would want me to fly away and ignore it, leaving all this needless stress for the carefree sensation of freedom.

None of those were the answers that would see me through.

But as I walked, each of my footfalls threatening to crater the ground from the weight on my shoulders, all watched with the same eyes I'd experienced in my past life. Guards stepped aside and bowed as I flowed past them, keeping my chin held high and my gaze perfect. Members of nobility whispered in quiet awe, fear, and anger as I moved, whispering about all I'd done in the past week.

The world fell away into a vague sense as I walked aimlessly, no particular destination in mind. Walking helped me think. It helped me plan.

The castle changed around me as I strode endlessly, Sylvie's warm presence like a balm in my thoughts as I processed everything. I slowly found my calm as I continued to walk.

I looked up, blinking in surprise as I finally left the confines of my own pulsing head. Somehow, I'd arrived in the castle's private quarters for the upper nobility and echelons of the council.

I walked a long way, I thought absently, staring about. How long have I been moving?

The centerroom of the castle's council quarters was a nice, simple suite, filled with luxury amenities. Gold lined the windows as they opened out into the distant skies, clouds drifting past in lazy waves. The natural light made the fire mana coalesce like a cat beneath the sun, drawing my gaze away from the ornate furniture.

But as I stood in the central meeting room of the councilor's chambers, I felt the attention of someone else. Someone familiar, that I'd missed in my fugue.

I turned my head, furrowing my brow as I honed in on the familiar person as they lounged bonelessly in a chaise lounge.

If the Blaine Glayder I'd first met as a child were a perfectly crafted letter to his people, with all the flowing prose and elegant penmanship of a regal diplomat, then what lounged on the couch before me was what happened after the pages had been torn apart, pieced back together with tape, then crumpled into a ball and thrown against the wall.

His normally fiery hair looked sullen and small. Where the maroon locks used to flare about his head like a mane, now they clung to his head like jealous moss held to rocks on the seashore. His eyes—each the same, dull shade as his hair—were slightly hazy as they tried to center on me. 

"Are you here to gloat?" he asked, his voice slightly slurred. "You've got the kingship now, Leywin. You're the most powerful man in Dicathen."

My eyes darted to the bottle clenched lightly in the former monarch's hands. He was drunk. Very drunk.

I carefully schooled my features as I looked at the decrepit remnants of Sapin's king. "You say things you don't mean, Councilman. We both know the circumstances of my ascension," I said in a neutral tone. "I'll leave you to your… indulgences."

I turned around, already wanting to leave this room. The image of a king, stricken and torn because of the events of their reign, hit too close to home.

"I know," Blaine slurred. "It's just easier when I can blame someone. It makes ruling so much easier. But we both know that's… not the right way."

I paused, then turned back to the former king, inspecting him with narrowed eyes. I wanted to march away. I should have marched away. But my feet stayed rooted to the spot as if by a shell of earth made by a conjurer. Thoughts of Tessia and all my failures halted in my mind as I stared at this strange reflection of what all rulers were destined to be.

"There is no right way to rule," I responded carefully. "Only different levels of wrong."

Blaine barked a cynical, drunken laugh, before lifting the bottle back to his lips. He took a few greedy gulps of whatever was inside. "That crown is already heavy on your head," he wheezed, resting his head on the back of the couch. "I used to be everything. Everything. Now I'm… nothing. And you are everything I ever wanted to be."

I blinked, startled by the man's words. How much had he drunk? "You should not be drinking–"

"I saw it there in you, way back in that Indrath-forsaken auction hall," Blaine grunted, cutting off my words. I wasn't certain he was even talking to me, with how unfocused his gaze was. He only saw a phantom, just as I did Grey. "I saw a king."

My words cut off as I recalled the first time I had ever met the king of Sapin. It had not been a positive experience. The former court mage, Sebastian, had tried to scheme his way into acquiring my bond. He'd wanted Sylvie for himself, even going as far as to call in a favor from Blaine to demand it.

"I saw it there, when you defied me," he whispered, his eyes widening with a glassy, distant look as he stared at the ceiling. "I always loved the power. I shouldn't have, but I did. I loved it and I hated it all. It was everything. But you said… no. You defied me. You drew from something I couldn't understand, boy. When someone did something wrong, you stood your ground."

My eyes flicked to that bottle. He loved it and he hated it, I thought, understanding. Just like a broken man loves and hates the drink.

From the slack expression on the former monarch's expression and the distance in his eyes, I could almost imagine he was back in that scene from nearly a decade ago, watching it all play out. His hands clenched on the throat of the bottle in his hands.

"You did it again, too. I never thought… Never thought I saw a king until you stood under General Aldir's stare. I'd never seen someone so perfect," the maroon-haired man said, speaking to himself as much as a ghost. "And it seems you always were a king. Always, in some other life."

I exhaled a deep, world-weary breath, feeling a strange sense of pity as I looked at the broken man before me. I hadn't explained anything of my reincarnation or past life to the council, even though I knew questions and theories and fears abounded through them all.

"I was never a good king, Blaine," I said quietly, hoping in some way to soothe what ailed him. "In another life far away from here, I was little less than a machine of war. What you think to be so amazing wasn't something innate to me. It was built on failure. My magic was worthless, and my life was empty. It's only been the lessons I learned there that made me who I am today."

Blaine's eyes became even more unfocused. "Another life… Another chance…" The aging man raised an absent hand, pressing the clawed fingers of his hands over his core. I thought I saw tears gather at the edges of his eyes. "If I had another life, maybe I could stop all this death from happening to my people. I wouldn't be a useless red core. I could be someone great. A king."

The clouds drifted past the window, casting the room in sudden shadow as the sunlight was stolen from the room. In the lack of light, the phantom of Grey seemed more real than ever in my peripheral vision.

I had never liked this man. He'd been selfish, vain, and a threat to those I'd cared for even before the asura had intervened to put down the Greysunders.

But right now, I thought I saw two phantoms of Grey in front of me. The King, who had become an apathetic machine, watched from the sidelines. But on the couch lounged the broken boy whose ki center had never been up to par and thought himself doomed to unending failure. The boy who wished he could do it all over.

It took me some time to find my words, stuck as they were in the back of my throat.

"You were a better king than I ever was, Lord Glayder," I said with pained respect. "We've had our differences, but I see how you care. I know what you did to pull your country from the depths of unending war. I only ever did the opposite."

It was common knowledge that Blaine Glayder had slain his tyrannical father to stop the bloodshed of the human-elven war. He'd stepped up and taken that burden upon himself, driving his blade personally through his father's stomach for the greater good.

I looked down at my hands, my mind flickering back to long buried memories. I remembered Cecilia's blood on my hands as her body slid macabrely down my sword.

Blaine had started his kingship by killing someone he loved for the greater good, taking all that weight onto his shoulders. I had begun mine by slaying one of my closest friends for nothing more than selfish needs.

And in the end, neither of us had found peace in our rules. The end result of Sapin's glorious, revered king lay in a drunken stupor before me.

"But if you ever got another chance, Blaine, I think you could do better," I said. I hoped. "That's what makes second chances so important."

The former king lolled his head, staring at me with hooded eyes. For the first time, his attention seemed to fully focus on me. I seemed real to him again.

And then the tension shattered with a worried shout. "Blaine," Priscilla Glayder said quickly, emerging from one of the rooms that I recognized belonged to the former royal couple, "Damn it, Blaine."

The woman who had once been the queen of Sapin looked slightly disheveled with her black hair in disarray. Her dress was clearly that of a woman who had barely put herself together. I suspected she'd been sleeping up until just a few seconds ago.

She didn't even notice me as she moved to her husband, her face taut in an expression of worry and anger both. The black-haired woman looked Blaine over, noting his dreariness and broken demeanor. "Blaine," she said, her voice sinking with wear and sorrow. "You promised you wouldn't do this anymore."

Blaine didn't really seem to hear her, just clenched his bottle tighter. "I shouldn't have," he said. "I betrayed your trust."

The former queen's pale face flushed with pained anger as she took her husband by the shoulders. "You beat it so long ago," she said harshly, her voice cool despite her clear emotion. "You said you wouldn't give into the bottle again. We made a promise. You and me."

"I'm a–"

"I won't hear a single excuse from you, Blaine," she snapped, cutting him off before he could say a word. "We've spoken about this. To no end. You promised me. You promised our children."

The former queen shook her head, fighting to keep her expression under control. I could see it all there, in this moment of rare vulnerability. She loved the man lying on the couch. Loved him with all of her heart. She was angry not just because he'd broken her trust, but because seeing him like this wounded her. She'd worked to help him from falling back into his old ways. She'd worked to build him up and be better.

And when he fell again, she was here, scolding him as she prepared to pull him back up.

I'd only ever seen Priscilla the councilwoman. Now, I caught a hint of Priscilla the wife.

And it was only then that she caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of her eyes.

The councilwoman straightened suddenly, her eyes widening in sudden fear. Priscilla put herself in front of her husband, bowing lightly. "King Leywin," she said quickly, calculations running behind her eyes. "I apologize for my husband's unsightly appearance. It is unbefitting of a councilor of Dicathen to present themselves as such to their Commander."

I forced a light smile onto my face as Priscilla stood like an icy sentinel between me and her husband. She'd been the cold front to Blaine's hot whenever they worked together in the councilroom. She was the voice of reason and conservative action, tempering the human king's more impulsive anger.

"I took no offense," I said honestly, waving away the woman's concerns. I could see the worried questions behind her eyes, too. "Everything that happened here won't leave my mouth. Any others learning of your husband's… stupor would only be detrimental to the unity of this continent."

Priscilla had watched me with a measure of fear throughout this week as I near-ritualistically purged the nobility of their unearned and unjustified stations all throughout the Triunion Council's echelons. She was the only person who could truly comprehend the absurdity of my actions, truly recognize how horrifying my efficiency was.

She saw me as King Grey. And King Grey would hold this incident as political leverage over Blaine if he could.

The weight on Blaine's shoulders isn't on his alone, I realized, noting how Priscilla stood nervously between us. I slowly recalled all the times they'd subtly worked together, balancing out each other's flaws and exemplifying their virtues to the best of their abilities.

It wasn't perfect. It never could be. But they tried.

And then the clouds parted, and the sun streamed back into the room through that distant window. I felt, for the first time, like a breath of fresh air had entered my lungs.

"Ensure Councilman Blaine doesn't trip over his own shoes," I said, turning around. "I have a duty to attend to."

I began to walk, doubt already worrying in my mind about what I was about to do. The image of it felt clear in my mind, but I risked it falling like streams of water through cupped hands.

"Wait."

I halted in my steps as Blaine's slurred voice reached me. I frowned, turning to face the former king of humans again.

Priscilla had been gently working to pull him to his feet, using her shoulder and augmented, slim frame to support his heroic figure. He still looked at me with addled intensity, though.

The man tossed the bottle in his hand towards me. I caught it easily, baffled.

"You're gonna… need that," he slurred, seeming surprised that the glass hadn't hit the ground. I wondered if his addled mind was debating if I was some drunken apparition and the bottle actually had shattered, or if I was really there.

That only earned more angry words from Priscilla, who hastened her slightly-fearful movement of her husband as she hauled him away. I stared in amusement as the woman apologized profusely to me, before trying to get away as quickly as possible, tired brute of a king in tow.

I looked back at the bottle in my hands, for once feeling like I could use a dash of liquid courage in my coming plan. I stared into the bottle, then turned it upside down.

A single drop of whiskey slipped from the rim, then hit the floor.

I sighed, my shoulders heaving. "Fuck you, Blaine," I muttered, looking at the empty glass mournfully. "You're still an asshole."

—

I found Tessia in one of the castle's training rooms, working to nurture her powers.

I knew from reports that Tess had been training with Aya to master some sort of new aspect to her Elderwood Guardian Will. According to the elven Lance, Tess had the ability to not just create true Elshire mist, unlike the thin façade that Phantasm leveraged, but control preexisting mist as well.

But watching it was an entirely unique process. A few vines with silver thorns rose from several points on the dirt training grounds. Silver roses bloomed all along their length, the centers breathing mist that danced and reflected the light. At the center of it all, Tess stood like some sort of ephemeral fae.

Her back was to me as she held out her pale arms, each of them covered in bright green runes. Her breathing was slow and even as the mist rose and fell around her in tune with her chest. Her hair—light and verdant under the effects of her Will instead of its usual gunmetal silver—flowed within the light-splitting stream of mist.

I narrowed my eyes contemplatively as I focused on the elven princess, noting the flow of the water and wind mana around her. The mist made it hard to even sense those particles, as dense as it was. Even with my understanding of water mana and my senses as a white core mage, it was hard for me to truly pierce that veil and see the woman beneath. The way the water vapor enshrouded her made me think of the old stories of my previous life of mystical creatures and ethereal, tempting things hidden in the shadows.

"Are you just going to keep staring, or are you going to say something?"

I blinked in surprise at Tess' words, noting the twitch of her long ears. I shook my head, snapping myself from my daze. "I can't see the mana particles around you where the mist is the most condensed," I said honestly, unable to restrain the wonder in my voice. I felt the urge to embrace waterborne and see what else I could learn about the magic that enveloped my childhood friend. "I'm wondering how it works."

The mist slowly drifted away, lowering to the ground and dissipating as the elven princess let go of her beast will. Her hair shifted back to its natural shade as she let out a breath that sounded like it had been caught in her lungs for an age.

She turned around, looking at me with an expression of utmost disappointment. "That's your first thought on seeing my great new powers? Just, 'Wow, my stupid super-senses are blind now?' Not, 'My childhood friend has become beautiful and pretty now, and I'm still an idiot?' "

I frowned, feeling just a little bit wrongfooted. "I mean, you being beautiful isn't the reason I'm here."

Tess sighed, rolling her eyes as she strode down from the platform. It had only been a few hours since we'd last seen each other, but the weight of our last conversation seemed distant in this moment as she looked at me with narrow, scrutinizing teal irises. "So you're not here because you admittedly find me beautiful," she said slowly. Her brow slowly rose. "So, that crosses off so many reasons you've decided to spy on a princess' training. You'll need to enlighten me, Art."

I scratched the back of my neck nervously, feeling thankful that I couldn't see Grey's phantom when Tess was in front of me. I'd gone over my plan with Sylvie, and she'd approved—but she'd left me to my own thoughts afterward, telling me it was something I needed to do alone.

I opened my mouth to say something witty, thought better of it considering Tess' inquisitive, no-nonsense stare, then closed it again.

I let out a pained groan instead, burying my face in my hand as I felt my mind working at about one mile an hour.

"You are really bad at this," Tess said, stating the obvious as she observed me with crossed arms. "Really, really bad at this."

Thanks, Tess, I thought with annoyance. I never would have guessed that!

"Would you like to go for a walk?" I asked, forcing the words from my throat.

"A walk?" Tess replied skeptically, turning to observe the training room around us. "Art, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I'm inside a flying castle. Where should I walk to?"

I gave the elven princess as deadpan a stare as I could manage, feeling emotionally drained already. That, at last, earned a chuckle from the demure elven mage.

"Very well, King Leywin," she said, walking forward. She extended her arm in the courtly gesture common in Elenoir, tilting her head up lightly as her eyes flashed teasingly. "Lead me wherever you please. But mind you, I am a princess."

I laughed lightly, accepting the gesture as I linked my arm with hers. Her bare skin was warm, even through the fabric of my shirt. "You've never let me forget," I said, feeling the tension drift away like Elshire mist across the trees of Zestier, just like it used to long ago in the distant past. "I hope this foreign king can successfully woo the cold and aloof elven princess."

Tess' silver brows furrowed in annoyance as we began to walk towards the exit of the training grounds, arm in arm. "Cold and aloof?" she said, sounding genuinely annoyed. I winced as she pinched my arm particularly hard. "Cold and aloof? Me?"

I forced a smile to stay on my face, unwilling to give my childhood friend ammunition to use against me despite the pain radiating through my acclorite-infused arm.

Is she using mana for that? I thought, genuinely surprised. Does she want me to tap out or something?

We reached the hallways soon enough as I continued on my forward trek. "I think you've made your point," I said through gritted teeth. "How about fiery, impulsive, and rampaging instead?"

Tess scoffed, and I could sense that she wanted to sock me with a fist. But that would mean she'd have to unlink our arms to do so, so she didn't. Instead, she opted to sigh dramatically. "Only when the foreign king goes and does something foolish," she said, her ears drooping slightly. Her hand squeezed where it held mine. "Princess and king share that in common, don't they?"

I felt the blood rise in my cheeks at Tess' words, seeing exactly what she meant. "Maybe," I replied quietly. "Maybe."

As we continued to walk through the castle toward that predestined goal, I felt my good mood shift slightly. As I saw more and more guards and more and more nobles, the smile on my face threatened to fall as the needs of Grey reasserted themselves.

Be strong. Be unassailable. Show no weaknesses. Show no emotion.

Tess sensed the shift in my demeanor. As I felt the struggle not to fall fully into the trap of my crown, her hand tightened on mine.

She moved ever-so-slightly closer to me as we passed a few guards, watching them salute to me. "You look good with a smile, Art," she said quietly. "I like your smile."

My smile had been falling, but at her words, it found a sort of equilibrium. Instead of the grin I'd worn when I'd teased the princess earlier, now it was something soft and measured.

But it didn't go away.

We reached the council rooms before long. The very same council rooms I'd been in earlier today. I stared up at the doors, feeling how vast they were deep in my soul.

Tess waited at my side, seeming to understand what it was I felt looking up at those daunting windows to possibility. Part of me wondered if she'd wait for an eternity for my foolish, uncertain self.

I exhaled a weary sigh, the crown on my head heavy as ever. And then I stepped forward, pushing open the doors.

I unlinked my arm with Tess' as we entered the council room. I strode forward into the vast expanse, memories of all my meetings here flickering inside my head. So many life-changing events had happened here in so short a time.

Agrona had taunted me from a high chair, staring down at me as he puppeteered my bond. The council had broken under the weight of Virion's coma. And in the same stroke, it had been reforged.

My eyes lingered on the multi-elemental throne I'd conjured for myself, tracing the flow of the mana within.

"When I was a King in my previous life, I made many, many mistakes," I said. I felt hyper-aware of everything in this room. Each flow of mana, each twist of all four elements. The low light of evening streamed through the distant windows, anointing me with subtle warmth. "So many mistakes that I could not name them all."

Tess didn't say anything while she waited behind me, silent as I spoke my thoughts.

"But the biggest one… the biggest one was that in everything, I was alone. In my duels, I was alone. In my life, I was alone. In my goals, I was alone. In bearing the weight of the crown on my head, I was alone."

I turned back around, staring at the princess before me. All her life, she'd been raised with the expectation that she'd eventually take up her father's mantle as the ruler of Elenoir Kingdom. At every single step of the way, she'd been granted a noble education that taught her what was necessary to lead.

I flexed my hand, drawing a single item from my dimension ring. A black coin the size of my palm settled into my hands.

The Lance artifact. Tess' eyes flicked to it, then back to me.

"I can make you a Lance, Tess. This artifact can give you the power to ascend to the white core and be a true force for this continent." I swallowed slightly, feeling the words wrench themselves from my throat. "But I can't let myself go astray either. So I need you to promise me something, in exchange for this."

Tessia strode forward slowly, her steps soft in the low light. Her expression was serious, serene, and understanding all at once as she moved to stand barely a foot away from me.

"What do you need from me, Art?" she asked, her tone cool and Lancelike.

"You can't let me go astray," I said. "When I'm acting as king, I need you to be there to ensure I stay in check. You were right, earlier. You said that Grey can't be king. And I need you to ensure he isn't."

Tess' deep, teal eyes searched mine as I laid out my conditions. "Do you think I can?"

I felt a slight smile grow on my face—the kind I'd always worn whenever Tess said something a little foolish when we were younger. "I don't think I've ever met someone as stubborn as you," I said quietly. "If there's anyone who can curb my worst impulses, it's you."

The princess took another step forward, and suddenly, I felt terribly aware of how close we were. I could smell the shampoo she'd used in her last shower, and lingering dewdrops clung to her skin and clothes from her earlier conjuring of mist.

"To be clear," Tess said slowly, "You're asking that I stand by your side during all of this, no matter what? Whether you're feeling sick or well, you need my advice and counsel and help? Till' whatever tears us apart?"

I blinked, furrowing my brows slightly at her strange wording. "Yes, that's what I need," I said quietly. Especially if I somehow became sick and this phantom of Grey at the edges of my vision expanded, I couldn't count on myself alone. I needed an anchor. "It's too much for me to do all alone, and I'm… very flawed. And I don't think very many things can break the Lance tether and tear it apart, besides maybe Spellsong."

Tess' ears turned red all the way to their tips as they drooped, a blush turning her face red as she stared up at me. She sighed, a weary, disappointed kind of sound that came deep from her soul.

"You're truly an idiot, Art. I cannot believe I ever was hard on myself when you're so oblivious," the elven princess said. The way her silver-gray hair brushed past her eyes made it very, very hard to think clearly. "But I think I can do that for you. Curb your worst impulses, and all. Be there, until whatever tears us apart."

I coughed, scratching the back of my neck with one hand as I failed to maintain eye contact with the princess. Instead, I looked down at the black coin in my hands. "It just needs a drop of my blood and yours. That's all it takes."

Tess moved a hand between us, conjuring a simple vine adorned in thorns between her fingers. She didn't even hesitate as she pressed the pad of one of her fingers to the thorn, before allowing that singularity of red to fall onto the coin.

The coin absorbed it, the surface shimmering lightly.

I moved my finger to that vine, struggling with hesitance. "When this is all over, and we've achieved everything we need to," I said quietly, "I want to find a way to break this tether. I don't want you to be bound to me in this way."

I slowly pressed the tip of my index against that point. I felt as it parted the barest surface of my flesh, drawing a single dot of red to the tip of my digit.

The little dot hovered there, slowly growing as it drew every ounce of my attention. If I focused, I could almost see the purple mote of aether within. I could almost sense the lifeforce deep inside.

"That's okay," Tess said with a light chuckle. "There are other ways to bind people together."

That drop of my blood fell like the tear of some god in slow motion. And when it hit the surface of the coin, I could sense the change immediately, just as I had when I'd claimed control of all the other artifacts.

I let out a slight grunt as I felt the strange aetheric magic sink into my heart. I opened my mouth to say something as Tess' face twitched, wondering and hoping that it hadn't hurt her.

She cut my words off as she rose up into her toes, pressing her mouth to mine. She kissed me softly, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Gods, Art," she whispered, pulling her lips from mine as she went red all the way to her ears. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get you to stay still for a kiss? And how do you make a proposal not a proposal?"

A proposal? What? I wasn't–

I stood there, stunned more by the kiss than anything else. I felt as if I'd been caught unawares by Static Void and frozen in time, something in the back of my head unable to compute what had just happened. "Tess, I–"

"I think the magic's working," the elven princess said, her breath quickly starting to come in short pants as her flush turned her face even more red. Her eyes started to contract slightly, the teal shrinking. In my hand, the black metal coin was starting to vibrate. She clung to my shoulders nervously as she trembled, her ears drooping. "Do you think this is normal, or am I that nervous about wanting to kiss you?"

Fuuuuuck.

"I don't know," I said, feeling my mind shift as I scooped the elven mage up into a princess carry. Her legs had been starting to shake. I calculated the quickest route to the medical wing. The artifact was really starting to fight in my grip. "Look, the change might not be pleasant. It's going to push you to the white core by force. We need to get you to a medical bay in case anything goes wrong!"

Tess looped her arms around my neck, a wide grin spreading across her face as she stared up at me, her features entirely red. "I think I'm going to pass out in a second, Art."

Don't say that with that goofy grin on your face! I thought, mana pumping through my legs as I started to run. All my earlier worries about appearing dignified before the guards and nobles of the castle evaporated as potential side effects of the Lance artifact belatedly surged in my head.

Tess pressed her head to the crook of my shoulder, exhaling a shuddering breath as sweat began to bead across every inch of her body as the Lance artifact began its work. "You really are a dummy."