Devick marched back into Homewell after almost two days of constant harrying of the fleeing Nether forces. Her leather armor clung to her body, mortared into place with sweat and dirt. Yet despite the ripe nature of her scent, Devick felt rather cheery as she passed through the gate and dismissed her soldiers.
Word had arrived from the East of a great victory: after Fatia Cerulean had weakened the Nether Leader, Nether King Hungry Eye struck and managed to wound their opponent seriously. The host of Nether Warriors floundered, bickering and stalling out. The Aetherlands experienced their first real victory in the war, a shining example next to the many agonizing stalemates they had achieved thus far.
To these people, he’s just a name. Her skin tingled as she walked down the street. She hummed tunelessly and bobbed her head. The sun felt as warm and free as a smile. Would it even mean anything if I told them I knew if? If I mentioned that we were…
She groped in the dark of her conflicted mind for several seconds and was unable to come up with an accurate term to describe their relationship. She could picture Nether King Hungry Eye, pausing and raising an eyebrow at her in question, but nothing more definitive than that image. Shaking herself, she looked at the city around her.
Turtlelines, Homids, and Lizakh mixed freely, the raucous celebrations spilling out onto the street. Giant kegs were rolled out and games of skill and chance occurred frequently. The spirit had revived, breathing life into the civilians.
Devick found it ironic that the grand victory they used to whip up morale came from a Nether King, but seeing all the happy Turtlelines flocking to the street didn’t begrudge them the lie. Small children, whose oversized shells seemed so heavy for their stubby legs that they were a stiff breeze from toppling over, came out in force to hang up banners and home-painted shells. In the warm sun, everything felt shimmery and magical.
After fishing about her bag for a minute, Devick produced some of the elegantly detailed coins of the city and bought a fish pie. The fried dough oozed just the right amount of grease, warming her and providing some much-needed fuel after the army finally saw the Nether’s retreating backs and developed a backbone.
Yet as the afternoon passed into evening, the flurry of activity on the streets only intensified. Devick’s journey back to her room became an increasing chore due to the congestion on the roads. One of the locals in her patrol had informed her this date fell close enough to a sacred day of the Turteline people that they were now hurrying to throw together a festival, before hostilities resumed. Hence the flourishing amount of carts on the streets, the release of children once more from the safety of basements, the general gaiety she saw on the face of everyone.
Gaiety… or dirt, from trooping home from killing. She finished her street food quickly, leaving her with greasy fingers and a sudden weight of exhaustion. All of her own contentment seeped out of her.
The wave of sadness made Devick miss Nether King Hungry Eye. Which, in turn, made her surly, because very clearly he didn’t miss her, not when he was out fighting in the war. And then Devick became worried about his health, considering he clashed against the most powerful figure on the Nether side-“Gah!” Devick threw up her hands into the air in front of the door to their lodgings, almost announcing herself. She kicked in the door with her usual charming flare, causing it to swing wildly and smash into the coat rack. After a wobbly effort to stay upright, the cheap piece of furniture accepted its fate and collapsed of a fractured spine.
Lowanna looked up from the book she had been reading and raised a brow. The coat rack clattered to the ground. “Feeling dramatic, are we?”
“We need to talk,” Devick countered, jabbing her finger at her aide. It felt good to refocus from the small melancholy of her own mind. After raking her fingers through her hair, stomping to the table, helping herself to the wonderful-looking finger sandwiches waiting there, Devick repeated the jabbing gesture and took a seat. “You know, I didn’t take you seriously when you brought it up before, but while I was chasing down the Nether people, thinking about how Elhume showed up and tried to kill me… are you really the Nether Arbiter?”
“Yes,” Lowanna nodded and took a bite of her sandwich.
As someone who usually was the most flabbergasting in the room, Devick couldn’t articulate a response to Lowanna for several seconds. It took two pinches before she regained her general poise. She gripped the edge of the table. “You weren’t joking? You are the most powerful Nether individual in existence?!? Why… why are you here with me then?”
But Devick could see the answer to her own question even as she asked it. All the pieces settled into place; in retrospect, it was obvious. Her eyes began to sparkle and she practically hummed with excitement. “Oh, oh, oh! Are we related? Am I your long-lost daughter and you’ve now come to secretly guide me to my full potential? OH MY GOD, and this whole time, there has been a mantle of power and influence I’ve been destined to inherit for my entire life, along with a long-held pact between two families so that when I’ve reached my full potential, I am betrothed to Nether King Hungry-”
A knock at the door interrupted Devick’s train of thought. For several seconds, she hyperventilated, imagining the possibilities stretching out in front of her. The emotional momentum was a heady and intoxicating thing. But after a few seconds, she calmed down enough to register Lowanna’s expression of utter incredulity. Her hopes were a love letter in a glass bottle, raked across the sharp teeth of a cliff face and left to sink to the bottom of the sea.
“I admire your imagination,” Lowanna chuckled. Another knock came at the door. “But perhaps let’s concern ourselves with real life?”
Devick eyes burned with indignation and promised vengeance as she scowled at Lowanna, but she stalked over to the door an opened it. Before the party outside could even speak, she shut the door decisively and returned to the table. She was already in a foul mood and didn’t need it to worsen. “You know, just because you aren’t integral to my hidden storyline doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“Who was at the door?” Lowanna said.
Devick ignored her, falling back to the old reliability of jabbing her finger forward. “So, you’ve been the Nether Arbiter this entire time? …I don’t mean to be a bitch, but doesn’t that mean you’ve had the capability to end the war this entire time and you’ve done nothing?”
Lowanna gave a low, pained laugh. She squeezed her hands together. “It’s more complicated than that. I know I sound dramatic, but the war was the lesser of two evils. If I had remained… I would have been used against my people. There is a group of individuals who seek-” She trailed off as another knock came at the door, equally polite. The hidden Nether Arbiter, the picture of mundanity in her cotton smock, gave Devick a long look. “Who is at the door, really? There are only a few people you would so blatantly ignore.”
“Obviously, no one of import,” Devick waved a hand. “Hmm, okay fine, I’ll give you a probationary acceptance of your explanation regarding a nefarious evil society seeking to manipulate you. Yet how do you respond to allegations of being the most powerful being of existence, while primarily sitting here and freeloading off of my middling soldier income?”
“Guilty as charged,” Lowanna laughed, only slightly bitter. “This whole time, I’ve been trying to break the spirit of the Aether forces by oppressing their most untalented and imaginative commanders, until-”
This time, the knock came with words. “Squad Leader Devick, I can hear you. I know you are inside. Please.”
Lowanna frowned at Devick. “That sounded a lot like Colonel Matteo, your commanding officer.”
“I’m off duty,” Devick shook her head. “Officer status is irrelevant. So… are you stronger than I am?”
The brief moment of levity passed. Lowanna’s shoulders slumped, causing her ornate bracelets to clack against the table. On her thin wrists, the black wicker looked like shackles. “Theoretically, yes. And even in my restricted state… there are few who could legitimately threaten me. But my power comes with a cost. Do you understand the Nether concept of Phaea?”
Devick shook her head. Lowanna closed her eyes. “Think of it as a spiritual and governmental tribute system, centered around the Nether Kings. A bond of power and responsibility. Nether Kings are those individuals who possess Phaea from others, and in exchange give their Phaea to others. All exist as links in the middle of the chain. I do sit at the top of these structures of Phaea… but it is a cursed power I wield. Because it costs the lives to utilize. I derive all of my potency from the vibrancy of my people. I could level a city with a wave of the hand… but at the very same moment, an entire city of Nether people would fall dead, their Phaea draining them dry, without them even knowing. Without them even having a say in their fate.”
Realization dawned in Devick. “Once they’ve given the Phaea, it can be… activated at any time? And you would gain great power by activating it, but they would die.”
“And great power only for a short time,” Lowanna’s lips curled upward, but her expression couldn’t be called a smile. “Originally, the position of Arbiter was considered to be largely ceremonial… mostly as oversight for the Nether Kings, which are the modern equivalent of the Nether Warlords that committed travesties in the past. Yet without the monstrous actions of the Nether Warlords as contrast, I became the villain for every Aether child born in the last five hundred years.”
“Hey, Lowanna-” Devick softened, but her kind and empathetic words were interrupted by the return of the knocking. Her first response was to growl, but then she whipped around in her chair and shouted at the door. “I’m off duty!”
“This is an off-duty matter!” The Colonel replied with just as much emotion. If nothing else, he had learned to push past her initial rejections in the past few weeks.
Devick dragged another hand through her hair. In fact, she had known it was an off-duty matter; the blue-haired humanoid had been holding bright orange flowers, which contrasted quite pleasingly with his hair and horribly with hers. Which was why she had slammed the door shut in his face in the first place.
Whyever would she want to associate with a man who brings her gifts that make him look good and her like a bloodstain?
With Devick silent, he continued to press his luck. “Do you know Homewell’s celebration? There is a special event underneath the city, held for the greatest warriors. Several spots were given to the allied military, for helping to defend the city. I, err- I have an extra slot, so why don’t we go together to the event? L-like a date.”
“Perhaps this is your grand destiny,” Lowanna whispered.
Devick fell back on a finger jab, using silent vehemence to convey they hadn’t finished their discussion of Lowanna’s mysterious and intriguing past. But Devick got up and went to the door and opened it. Even she felt enough respect for the Colonel to reject him to his face. She surveyed him, almost pleased to note he had tossed the flowers to the side. “I’ve told you many times, Colonel. I’m involved with someone else.”
“I-if that were t-true,” The Colonel stammered through his words, but Devick had to admit his persistence appealed to her. “This mysterious other man would be here. So, in his absence, come with me to the festival.”
Fucking Nether King Hungry Eye, too busy being a war hero to visit me~ Devick thought to herself, but she couldn’t deny she felt genuinely frustrated and hopeless. AND lonely. She had left the Nether King’s side to find a way to earn his admiration, to feel like an equal to him. However, even with her new Class, even growing at a prodigious rate and accumulating Skill Levels, it was not an easy feat.
Seeing Devick wavering, the Colonel spoke again. “Did I mention the special slot I possess is a ticket to be blessed by the spirit of Homewell’s lifeseal? If the spirit likes you, you can receive a special Skill. There are even rumors of certain blessed Turtleline warriors receiving a Stat evolution.”
“Fine,” Devick huffed out a breath, even while her imagination rushed off to fabricate a timeline where she received a wondrous reward in the strange festival. She shook her head to rid herself of an image of her bulked-up, now equipped with a massive turtle shell. She raised a finger and wagged it back and forth. “But no touching. And no paying for my fish pockets.”
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