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Sovereign of Wrath Ch164: Gifts Ungiven
🕑 Added 2023-09-30 02:13:12 +0000 UTCA/N: PDFs for the last few chapters are coming this weekend hopefully. I'm still swamped and frazzled, but getting things under control. I'm also intending to make up the missed SoW chapter when I can.
The next morning, Seyari and Joisse left early. I watched the pair fly away into the white sky, Seyari carrying our daughter like I’d carried her not so long ago.
“It looks like snow,” Kartania said quietly, after the pair had become nothing more than a red dot in the distance.
I looked around at the incoming weather. Those clouds were a darker gray, heavier and lower. “Yeah, it does. Will you be okay alone in your tent?”
“Renna?”
“Hmm?” I looked back down from the sky at my sister, who was giving me a quizzical look.
“Why bring this up now? I’ve been alone in my tent through worse while traveling with you.”
“Oh, right.” I scratched sheepishly at one horn.
“You need to stop that, Sister.”
“Hmm?”
“That.” She pointed to my hand. “You’re intentionally trying to look unsure, vulnerable and nonthreatening.”
“I…” I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I am.”
“I know you’ve already been told to stop that. You’re not just a Sovereign demon, but a Marchioness now. You need to look like you’re in charge; leverage your intimidating presence.”
“But I’m bad at that,” I whined.
“No,” Kartania stepped forward and poked me, right above where my gem was hidden under clothes. “You’re not.”
I hissed.
“See?”
I deflated.
Kartania hit her face with her hand loud enough that I heard an audible smack. “Look, you don’t have to worry about being seen as some evil demon overlord who lives in a scary castle on the side of a frozen mountain.”
“I don’t?”
“No. Your reputation is too good. Although… there will probably be rumors.”
“There will?”
Kartania sighed. “Didn’t Seyari teach you noble politicking?”
“I can’t learn all that in a week!”
“And I can’t tell if you’re being willfully dense or not. Look, Zarenna, all I am trying to say is that you should stop the habits you have that are meant to make you seem less threatening. I shouldn’t have to tell you why, either.”
She’s right. “I know. They’re just… habits. Can you tell me when I mess up?”
“For the next few days on the road, yes.”
“Oh, right.” I paused, then forced my shoulders straight, wiping the sheepish look off my face. “Apologies.”
“Better. And just to be clear, I’m not telling you to try to be intimidating.”
“I know.”
“Good.” Kartania turned and started to walk down the road to where we’d stopped clearing it. “Let’s get going then. Daylight’s wasting.”
“Sure.” I bit my lip. I missed my chance to ask about hobbies, didn’t I?
Even with just the two of us, we made good progress, and I was continually astounded by my mana capacity. Despite what I’d assumed, I’d never truly gotten used to it, being able to create a solid jet of fire for hours.
As such, it was my incredible-but-human sister who tired first, calling for a stop around midday. The sun was still hidden behind the clouds, and snow had started to fall, obscuring the road behind us.
“I hope there’s no blizzard. I’d hate to have all our work undone.”
Kartania pointed to the snow pile next to her, almost her height. “Unless it’s a freak storm, our work will have been worth it.”
“I suppose. So; Sister.”
Tania narrowed her eyes. “Yes?”
“Do you…” I trailed off, unsure how to ask Kartania about hobbies. After a moment’s thought and withering under her well-practiced glare, I decided to just go for it. “Do you have a hobby?”
“Where is this coming from?” she snapped.
“Well, Seyari’s taken up reading, and I think she might want to write. I like blacksmithing and am hoping to take it up again soon. Joisse bounces between a few things because she’s still deciding, Nelys is a card shark, and Taava likes to sing. Salvador enjoyed hunting and whittling, and Aretan told stories and played dice.”
“And you think I don’t have anything.”
Hesitantly, I nodded. “But you might! I just… haven’t seen anything and you’re always so serious and I was hoping to maybe help you have fun—”
“Don’t.” A little bit of anger slipped through Kartania’s control, but only for a moment.
I glanced up from my feet at my sister, who was pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… don’t.”
“I’m sorry. But… I’m just trying to help!”
“Well you’re not.”
We stared at each other for a long while. Between us, the unlit logs of our fire started to take on a coating of white from the falling snow. I sat on a sizeable log, she on a cold, lumpy-looking rock.
“Are you going to make me start the fire?” My sister spoke and I jumped.
“N-no!” Snapping my fingers, I tried to light the logs. Unfortunately, I put too much into the spell and charred one immediately, sap bursting it open into a shower of splinters that scattered the rest of the logs. “Sorry!”
Kartania shook bits of burnt wood off her armor and sighed. “You’re nervous about what will happen in Linthel, aren’t you?”
“I… yeah. I guess so.”
My sister closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I watched as she got up off the rock, took a flint and tinder from her pack, and started to put the logs back together. Wordlessly, I rushed to help her, my four hands making quick work of stacking them. Really, I had no idea how someone with only two arms could properly hold things in place.
My sister flicked sparks onto the remains of our tinder, and it caught. Together, just like when we were kids, we blew on the embers until they warmed enough to catch the logs—just a little. Once the fire was steady, I plopped back on one end of the log, bringing my tail around to wrap over my lap.
To my surprise, Kartania sat next to me, looking from the fire, to the sky, to my tail. Almost hesitantly, she reached out and ran a hand along it. I tried not to shiver at the chill touch of her gauntleted hand. She pulled on the limb, and I moved it with her motion into her lap.
Tania stared down at the crimson, spade-tipped tail, then pulled it close. “Jewelry.” Her voice was a whisper, so soft I could barely hear it.
“Hmm?”
“A lifetime ago,” she continued, staring into the fire and gripping my tail hard enough that it’d probably hurt a mortal. “I… wanted to become a jeweler. Make things not just out of pretty stones, but metal and wood and shells from river mussels. Then… well, you know.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know everything. I didn’t want to pry—you seemed like you had a lot of secrets you wanted to keep.”
For a long while, Kartania was quiet. I resisted the urge to run my fingers through her hair or pull her into a side hug, and stared up at the snow that was falling all around us, the dark branches of the tree above that I’d cleared once again growing white and heavy.
Screw this moping! Eventually, I decided to just gofor it, and I pulled my sister into a side hug with my two left arms. She made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a hiss, probably unused to either the physical intimacy, or being pulled around like a child while wearing a third her weight in metal.
“So,” I started, “What was your training like?”
To my surprise, Tania answered. “Hard. Lonely, despite all the others. I can still remember the morning of the first day, waking up to the symbol of Dhias on the wall. Trying to remember what it meant. A circle for the Cycle of Souls, three marks across it shining down like the rays of the sun: Compassion, Temperance, Honor. Temperance in the center as it relies on the others.” She sketched the familiar symbol out in the snow.
“I never knew the meaning of that symbol,” I said softly, then chuckled. “Funny, huh? I probably should know it.” Cycle of Souls, huh? I broke that. Is that why…
“Well, you won’t be surprised to hear that not everyone practices what they preach. There are good people in the Church, people I found who tested my anger, poked and prodded it. But no one ever really got to the center of it, and I don’t know if it was because I didn’t let them.
“I try to live these virtues. Be these virtues, as a Paladin should. Sometimes, I worry I’m losing myself, and other times I worry I’m not losing myself fast enough.”
I hugged Kartania a little harder, stopping when I heard metal creaking.
She grunted, but grinned uncharacteristically. “Thanks, Sis.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be wishing you the best with your trip. Hopefully, Yevon or someone else can stand behind your testimony and I won’t have a crusade against me.”
“Hopefully.”
“And hopefully you’ll keep your title as Paladin,” I continued. “I can’t imagine Dhias is angry at you—I think you’re doing fine with those virtues. Though, perhaps you lean into Temperance a bit much. Though I’m a demon, so maybe don’t listen to my advice.”
“Compassion,” Kartania said slowly. “I struggle with Compassion. Why should I show it when so little has been shown to me, when everything—almost everything—was taken from me. It’s hard.”
“It is.” I tossed a little power into the fire, watching it blaze brighter. “But we’re trying our best.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. Your best isn’t some arbitrary, unachievable constant. It’s affected by pressures and worries and anxiety. You struggle, but you still try hard. That’s your best. And that’s fine.”
“When did you get so philosophical?”
“Two years stuck alone on an island to just think.” The quickness of my response surprised me. “Also Abigail’s influence; I’m sure of that as well.” I placed a hand over my gem. “She’s with me, part of me in a way.”
“Your symbol looks like the amulet she gave you, plus a gem.”
“It is, I think.”
“Then… I should give you my present. It’s not as good, but I guess that’s acceptable.”
I blinked. “What?”
“The night of the fire. Remember? I told you to look forward to my birthday present for you. I’m about a decade late, but it’s your birthday in three weeks, and I’ll be in Ardath by then.”
My birthday in three weeks. I’d completely forgotten—I’d missed the anniversary of the fire probably in Gedon.
Kartania reached around to her armor’s straps. “Could you give me a hand? It’s under my chestplate.”
“Oh… sure.” Numbly, I followed my sister’s directions, yet again glad I wasn’t missing two hands like so many people were. In moments, I’d loosened it enough for Kartania to slip a hand under it.
“Here,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I… I’ve worn it ever since that night. I had it with me, in a pocket and I remember the way it jingled when I was running.” She opened her hand, a new-looking leather strap trailing out from it. “You’ll want to get the strap replaced with a bigger one.”
“I’ll want to get it enchanted, so it never breaks.” I looked down. In Kartania’s hand was a dark, silvery metal flower, finely worked, and just a little lopsided. The center of the flower was a disc of some kind of mother-of-pearl, silvery and shining. The whole thing was perhaps three centimeters across. Holding it up to the firelight, it looked a bit like iron, and more polished than I’d imagined. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Bourick helped me make it. Well, he did almost all the work for the metal parts,” Kartania admitted. “I came in on your days off instead of studying.”
“What’s the iron alloyed with?”
“Chromite,” Kartania answered. “Bourick had to use his magic to get the furnace hot enough. Apparently, mages in Ardath can make even larger pieces, and with better color and strength.”
“It’s…” I blinked away tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Tania. I’ll need to give Bourick my thanks when we get to Linthel.”
Tania smiled thinly. “Would that I could go with you. As it is, we’ll need to arrive separately. Though their influence has waned, there might be a church force waiting for you in the city.”
“Will they attack me openly?”
Kartania shook her head. “They’ll decry your deeds, and build a case against you.”
“They’ll goad me.”
“More or less.” She shrugged, then looked again at the flower. “I’m glad you like it, really. I never thought I’d get to hear your opinion on it. Your headstone never did say much.”
I chuckled despite myself. “I’d imagine.” I carefully pulled the necklace on—it barely had enough length to wiggle it down my horns, and it rested high, where my collarbones met and well above my symbol. “As soon as I can, I’ll get this enchanted—the strongest I possibly can. Because I don’t want to lock this away in a drawer—I want to wear it. And—” I looked over at Kartania, whose eyes seemed a little brighter. “I’ll get something for you. If my birthday is in three weeks, that means yours is half a year away. Twenty-three, right?”
“Right. Listen, Sister, you don’t have to get me—”
“I want to. You deserve it, and I’m going to make sure we’re both still around then. If you get in any sort of trouble, if you can contact me by any means, I will fly across the world to get you out. And yes, I know you’re capable, and you won’t need rescuing. Doesn’t matter. I’m the big sister and I’m going to make this promise anyway.”
Kartania looked up at me, growing smile interrupted by a snort. “Some things about you haven’t changed, Renna.”
I, in a feat of effort befitting one of the strongest demons, restrained my urge to pout and whine. “Some things haven’t, indeed.”
At that, Kartania laughed. “By Dhias, Sister, you should see your face!”
“What about it?”
“You looked like you were trying to hold in gas while being tickled, and with your face—snrk—”
I lost my sister to a fit of giggles. In that moment, I saw the younger her again, the her who hadn’t become so worn down and cynical. My clawed fingers felt carefully, reverently over her birthday gift, almost a decade late, but ever-so on-time.
Eventually, the laughter subsided. Conversation drifted through memories, and metals, lost and found family, never sticking overlong in one place. We retired late, each to our own tent, and sleep managed to find me, the cold press of a metal flower just below my neck somehow comforting.
