Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Fifty-Four: Aftermath

“This must never get out,” Grandmaster Shun said, glaring at the three of them. The grandmaster sat at his desk, hands clenched with white knuckles hinting at his controlled anger. Serena, Amelia, and Katalin stood to attention. The demon's presence wasn’t quite as intimidating as the Dragon’s, but it was enough that Serena felt a tinge of nervousness; a part of her instincts raised alarm bells at the sheer violence he was capable of.

After Amelia had quite literally disarmed and then rearmed Katalin, they soon moved into the second half of the session. Only Serena, Amelia and the three Head Instructors, Ryosuke, Nathaniel, and Joey, remained while everyone else, exhausted and gossiping over the events that had just transpired, left the room. Katalin seemed especially eager to have Amelia begin sparring with her newly formed red aura.

And what an aura it was!

Serena didn’t think she’d ever seen a red aura with such vibrant hues. Looking at Amelia’s aura was fascinating; it somehow seemed to give off more colour than it should have. It was so rich that it imparted a sense of density, which wasn’t a word typically used to describe a warrior's aura. An aura, for most warriors, is a subtle sheen across the skin, with short-lived rays of coloured light dancing along the body.

But Amelia was not a normal warrior.

Katalin had expressed no real surprise at the magnitude of Amelia’s aura, nor did she seem bothered at losing a limb. It was as if she’d expected both. Was that possible? Was the Highlord skilled enough to see the true depths of Amelia’s talents? And, Empress forbid, did the sword maniac intentionally let her arm be sliced off to make a point to Amelia and the rest of the class?

The latter was a question Serena kept to herself. It would be wildly inappropriate to raise the matter. The question itself implied something negative regarding the sanity of a Highlord. With the waves Serena had already been making for herself and House Halen, she didn’t need to cause any more trouble.

Yet, she found herself, along with Amelia and Katalin, in the grandmaster's office, being thoroughly dressed down. The man had stormed into the training room and demanded they follow him. It seemed some instructors had immediately run to the grandmaster to inform him of what had happened.

“This academy has trained warriors for almost a thousand years,” the grandmaster continued. “I follow in the footsteps of Grandmaster Kobayashi, who followed in the footsteps of Grandmaster Kimura and the chain continues right back to the founding of Cascadia. More than eight hundred years of history. A history of blood, dirt, sand and metal. We are not the only academy in Asamaywa, but we’re the only one that can trace their lineage back so far! The only academy that our Divine Empress visited four centuries ago!

“For all that time, we were a small dojo. It is only recently, with new expectations and funding from Greatlord Oshiro and our Overlord that we’ve expanded to what we are today. Now, we no longer train only the talented children of the Eastern Nobility but entertain students from the far reaches of the Empire. The sword, spear and bow are no longer all we teach!” The grandmaster began counting with his fingers. "Magic. Crystalcraft. Cryptography. Battlefield medicine. We teach it all!

“Cascadian Lords send their children here to be moulded into warriors, mages, and most importantly, officers. They expect us to imprint the proper traits into their children: obedience, loyalty, discipline, and skill. They especially expect us to do it safely!” The demon's eyes narrowed as he emphasised the last word. “What message do you think it sends to Greatlord Oshiro and the rest of Cascadia if our instructors are running around cutting off each other's damn arms!?” His voice rose to a shout, slamming his hand onto his desk.

“What were you thinking!?” he jabbed a finger at Amelia. “I would expect someone of your talents to be able to maintain control! You cut off a Highlord’s arm! Why do you think people are given the title of Lord-Prospect before they become a full Cascadian Lord? Well!?”

“I-” Amelia began.

“Exactly! To prospect the individual to determine whether they are worthy of the title! Do you think cutting off Highlord Driss’s arm, the daughter of Greatlord Driss, is an appropriate action for one of your station? Do you know what punishment could await you should the Greatlord petition our Overlord for satisfaction? Do you!?”

“Capital punishment, right?” Amelia questioned, slightly tilting her head. Surprisingly, Amelia didn’t sound all that concerned. To be fair, neither did Serena. The last time a Lord-Prospect had been put to death for harming a Lord was more than a century ago. If the knowledge of the event got out, and Katalin and her father sought remuneration, then a fine would likely be all Amelia would get. Given what Serena understood of Katalin so far, she suspected the Highlord didn’t even care about losing an arm.

After all, it was reattached.

And, Empress forbid, even if Amelia was somehow sentenced to something more...

How would they enforce it?

“That’s right,” the grandmaster growled, glaring at Amelia for a few seconds before turning his anger towards Serena. Despite her battlefield experience, she still felt herself bristle under his glare.

“And you,” he said, jabbing a finger in her direction. “What in the seven hells were you thinking to prepare a Word? Against a Highlord? What were you going to do? Strike Highlord Driss down?”

Yes, Serena thought. She had been about to do exactly that. Seeing Amelia bleed had switched something on in her head. Something primal. An instinctive need to protect those she loved. Of course, Serena knew she couldn’t explain it that way, so she chose an explanation that ever so slightly bent the truth.

“I was concerned the duel was developing out of control,” Serena explained. “I was concerned Amelia’s life was in danger, and I knew without a Word I would have no hope in intervening against someone of Highlord Driss’s strength.” Serena turned slightly, bowing to the northern demon. “My sincerest apologies, Highlord Driss. I should have trusted your judgment. If I were a man, I would shave my head in shame.”

“Do not worry yourself, Instructor Halen,” Katalin replied smoothly. “Trust needs to be earned and we are still so unfamiliar with each other, yes? I take no offence. I am more than happy to take responsibility.”

Mentally, Serena breathed a sigh of relief. She’d suspected Katalin would take this approach and was glad to be proven right. At no point had the northern demon indicated she cared about her injury. Given Serena’s position as Lord of House Halen, many demons would have taken advantage of this opportunity. Luckily, Katalin seemed more than willing to let it go.

The grandmaster, on the other hand, wasn’t.

“At least someone’s taking responsibility,” he said, turning his ire to Katalin. “Highlord Driss, it was out of respect for your father and the belief that having someone of your talents train my Instructors would be beneficial to the academy that I permitted your request. I never would have thought someone with your reputation would be so reckless! This must never happen again, understand?”

Katalin turned sharply to the grandmaster. Placing her right fist against her chest, she bowed deeply. “You have my apologies and guarantee that this will not repeat itself, Grandmaster. Seeing a powerful mage form an aura is so rare that I could not help myself. I should have prepared properly for this scenario. Rest assured, I will not mention these events to my father.”

If the grandmaster was surprised at having a Highlord apologise so earnestly to him, it didn’t show. He grunted his acceptance before turning back to Amelia. “Assistant Instructor Thornheart,” he intoned with a voice slightly more devoid of anger. “You haven’t been here three days and you’ve already damaged one of our Speaker Rooms and cut off a Highlord's arm. Do you think you could continue your tenure here as an Assistant Instructor with a little more control?”

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded enthusiastically. “Sure thing!”

“...Get out then, all of you.” He waved his hand dismissively. The three of them quickly began exiting the office. As Amelia was leaving, the grandmaster called out to her once more.

“Assistant Instructor Thornheart?”

“Yes?” Amelia answered, turning in the doorway.

“Congratulations on reaching red. You’ll make a fearsome warrior.”

“O-oh! Thank you, Grandmaster!” Amelia bowed again.

The door closed, and the trio began walking back through the corridors. Once they’d travelled some distance, Katalin stopped suddenly. Turning her purple eyes towards Serena, she said, “Instructor Halen, although I hold no grudge, I am surprised you are prepared to Speak against me in protection of a human. Is your connection to her so strong?”

Serena couldn’t help but swallow nervously. She quickly covered it up with a light cough. Of course, she expected she would be fielded with questions like this in the future. Serena didn’t want to hide her relationship with Amelia. In many ways, she was proud of it, despite it being against her faith and her family's ideals. However, now wasn’t the time to be completely honest about it.

“Amelia has saved my life and the lives of my crew. I feel a great debt to her, regardless of her race. She is also an advisor to House Halen, and we’d much rather she remain alive and well for that purpose.”

Katalin's eyes sparkled and for a moment Serena thought her mouth curved slightly. “And if you had Spoken against me? Do you think you would have been able to defeat me?”

“...No,” Serena said after some hesitation.

“Yet, you still would have, yes? Even now, you would, knowing I cannot be defeated?” Katalin’s words were empty of any pride or arrogance. They were stated plainly as if they were an evident truth of the world.

“...Correct, Highlord.”

“Instructor, please.”

“Instructor.” Serena bent her head slightly as an apology.

“And you?” Katalin turned her attention to Amelia. “Do you think you would be able to contend with me?”

“Um… maybe?” Amelia answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Katalin laughed softly. It was a sweet laugh, gentle yet polite. It was the kind of laugh you wouldn’t expect to come from a rigorous warrior like she was. “After everything you’ve seen, that is your answer? How amusing.” Katalin walked past them before turning and saying, “I look forward to continuing the training. Now that you’ve reached red, you will not have to take such risks to reach orange. Saturday morning. First light, yes?”

“Mmm! We’ll be there!” Amelia chirped, flashing her characteristic thumbs up.

“Goodbye, Instructor Halen, Assistant Instructor Thornheart.”

The pair watched the auburn hair demon stroll away without a care in the world. Serena faced Amelia and said, “I was surprised you trusted her enough to bring down your wards.” Amelia blinked her crimson eyes. “You’re intuition? Instincts?” Serena asked.

“Mmm,” Amelia hummed, nodding slightly.

“Even so,” Serena continued, letting her voice quieten. “I would prefer it if…” She took a breath. “...If you never allow yourself to be in such a situation again. Regarding your wards, I mean.” Just the thought of an unprotected Amelia made Serena uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction her request would get her, but she didn’t expect Amelia to burst into a wild grin.

“What?” Serena asked.

“You were really going to Speak Narean to protect me, weren’t you? Against her.” Amelia giggled, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly. “That means a lot to me! Thank you!” She leaned in and whispered, “If we were elsewhere, I would show you exactly how much it means to me…”

This incorrigible human!

“Just…” Serena crossed her arms and looked away, forcing her heartbeat to calm down. She’d become somewhat used to Amelia’s crass form of flirting. It was so unusual compared to what she had been brought up to expect. A part of Serena appreciated the direct nature of it, although she wished Amelia would hold back sometimes.

“What?” Amelia asked.

“Just shut up, idiot.”

Serena and Amelia sat down amongst the other instructors for lunch. Even if you didn’t have a list of attendees of Katalin’s session, you could deduce them by looking at who piled their plates high with meat. Serena was no different; her craving for something greasy caused her to pile fried fish and mutton on her plate. The protein-heavy meal had prompted Amelia to raise an amused eyebrow.

Once they began eating, it didn’t take long for Amelia to become the topic of discussion.

While the instructors couldn’t talk publicly about exactly how Amelia achieved her first aura, they could talk about the achievement itself. The tone of the instructors towards Amelia had generally been polite, but now it was tinged with genuine respect. Amelia, in their eyes, was no longer just an abnormally powerful mage playing about with swords. She was now a warrior like them.

“How does aura feel compared to wards?” asked Nathaniel.

“It feels completely different!” Amelia answered cheerfully. “Much more… I’m not sure what the right word is. Much more personal? More intimate? Wards feel more detached, whereas my aura felt like an extension of myself. The way the aether moves… well, I understand now why mages rarely become warriors.”

“Especially a Speaker,” Nathaniel added while everyone else nodded along. “It’s not that uncommon to have student warriors capable of casting first-circle magic, or a first-circle mage to reach red, but for someone as entrenched along one of the paths as far as you are… very rare, Assistant Instructor Thornheart.”

“Next step will be to practice extending that aura over your weapon,” Ryosuke said, looking up from over the broadsheet he was reading. “Although I don’t think it’ll take you long, given the amount of aether you seem to have under control.” He resumed reading, his brow furrowing.

“Anything interesting?” Serena asked, gesturing towards the paper. She hoped it wasn’t another Amelia-centric headline. If the hacks got wind of what happened that morning, that would become rabid. They’d be at the academy’s gates regardless of any warnings from above.

“Raiders getting bolder,” Ryosuke said. He passed the paper to Serena before continuing to eat his lunch.

Serena examined the headlines, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this nonsense? A ‘Pirate Republic’? I thought they were put down years ago?” When demonkind created the first lift engine, air-piracy was born shortly after. Mercenaries, deserters and the dregs of society would turn to the criminal occupation to line their pockets. Major trade routes were protected, but the Empire was large and not everywhere could be covered by the Imperial Navy, especially the routes that skirted the Empire’s boundaries, using the trade winds to risk a hefty profit.

One of these trade routes was the Southern Passage, a stretch of sky that reached from the Salaban Range at the southern tip of the Southern Terra Firma to the east, skirting the south edge of the Shattered Isles before opening up to the island chain of Kraken Kur and then the far eastern cities of Fengra and Hokanai. It was a profitable trade route; the favourable winds cut weeks off the alternative journey of heading north towards Centralis before turning southeast. However, it was a route in uncharted skies and the perfect location for pirates and other unsavoury individuals to hide.

When Serena was younger, the southern pirates dominated the headlines. The pirates became bolder, eventually striking inland as far as the Shimashina-Nai route. At this point, the insult had gone on too long, and the Overlord could no longer ignore the complaints of the Aindo Greatlords and mustered a suppression fleet to deal with the problem once and for all. It had been expensive; the ensuing battles stretched the eastern fleet, and the debts incurred took a decade to repay.

But it had done its job, and the Southern Passage was determined to be safe. Well, relatively safe. The sky was unchartable. Its proximity to the Shattered Isles and the massive storm systems in the far south meant islands were constantly appearing and disappearing from the maps.

“Rumour is some Arakian warrior has brought the rats to heel,” Ryosuke said. “He and his men started harassing the desert skies five years ago. Now they’re reaching east.”

“Do we have a name?” Serena asked.

“Hacks like to call him the Blackhorn. From Hakim, apparently.”

“I’ve heard he was a tribal soldier from Dectus,” Joey suggested.

“Broadsheet the other week said he was a deserter from the Tevari guard,” Nathaniel added.

The instructors shared their theories on the origins of the upstart pirate lord. Other than the man’s nickname, little was known about the demon. It was likely that the focus on the Cascadia-Republic war had reduced resources allocated to pirate suppression, allowing the resurgence of organised piracy under this Blackhorn.

“Wouldn’t the Southern Overlord handle it?” Amelia asked.

“Ha!” Ryosuke scoffed. “He’ll see it as the responsibility of the desert Greatlords. The reasoning would be that if they can’t handle it, then perhaps they shouldn’t be Greatlords. It’s how things work in the desert. Might makes right, and if you don’t have the strength to protect what is yours, then you don’t really own it.” He shook his head. “Every few centuries they get full of themselves and the Empress has to remind them who’s on top.”

“When was the last time?” Amelia asked, her eyes widening.

“Hmm…” Ryosuke rubbed his chin before turning to one of the few southern instructors in the academy. “Abbas! Do you know?”

“Six-fifty-five. So, almost two centuries now,” Instructor Abbas responded. “They say she took the form of the Great Spider and Spoke the Third Word to put down the previous Overlord. I doubt it’ll happen again any time soon. The current conflict is cooling the desert blood.”

Serena found herself nodding along. Despite the conflict straining the North the most, about thirty percent of the army battling Republican forces were Southern soldiers. Say what you will about how they conduct themselves; the South did not back down from a fight.

“And the attitudes you speak of don’t reflect the entire desert, Ryosuke,” Instructor Abbas intoned, pointing a piece of cutlery at the Department Head. “The Wami and Yemenian people are quite adjusted to more modern sensibilities. Even many of the Arakian are leaving behind the old ways. It only remains strong within the Dakian communities, around Qasim, Dectus and Tevari.”

“I mean no offence, Abbas,” Ryosuke said, tilting his head in apology. 

The southern demon merely shook his head and continued eating. 

Amelia finished her meal and followed Serena outside. She had to do her best not to skip or jump with joy. Red aura! She’d reached it! Finally! Sure, the length of time she had taken was outrageously fast compared to a normal person, but she had become impatient! The sense of achievement warmed her heart. It may have only been red aura, but to Amelia, it was more satisfying than any of the magical abilities she had demonstrated thus far!

She couldn’t wait to be free that afternoon to train more. Now that she’d formed an aura once, she felt the second time would come quickly. The feeling of it was still fresh in her mind. She planned to play around with her cloaking magic to see what worked best in covering up her new abilities. After that, she would-

“Mmm? Sorry?” Amelia asked. Serena had said something.

“I was saying, come find me when you’re free. We’ll go over your red aura together.”

“Sure!” Amelia chirped, feeling her face beam. “I have to monitor a first-year class now. Then I was hoping to catch Lunaria, I mean, Instructor Inoue, for some advice.” She looked around quickly, thankful no students were nearby. It was easy to forget to use the proper titles in public. “I’ll find you after, okay?”

“Okay.” Serena nodded. “See you later.”

Amelia hummed happily as she left Serena and headed to the magic tower. After the upcoming lesson, she had some topics she wanted to cover with Lunaria. Now that they had a good working relationship, Amelia reckoned the Head Instructor would be the ideal person to ask about the other reality she detected while transformed by the Second Word.

And whether the instructor knew anything about Anathor and his kind, the mysterious Formless.

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