Shadow of the Sun Ch. 12

Eshe knew there would be consequences for aiding Veronica. The situation in the palace was already precarious, and freeing the notoriously decisive noblewoman wasn't going to lower tensions any. But they figured whatever happened would be relatively small-scale--Veronica would escape, there'd be a brief stir around the palace, and then everyone would move on. She was only a lone woman, after all. How much trouble could she really cause?

Now, as they stare at the burnt remains of Duke Berinni, Eshe is starting to think their earlier assessment may have been a little off.

"Knights!" Laviny shouts, drawing his weapon. Eshe follows suit, startled into action by their Captain's voice. "Stagger!"

The knights form a loose star formation around their Captain, facing out and readying their mirror shields. They brace for another barrage from the Queen, but none comes--if anything, She seems the most caught off guard by what She's just done. In the few seconds Her confusion affords, Laviny pulls a small sun orb from his satchel and utters a brief prayer. The orb comes to life at his words, growing large enough to barely fit in one hand and bright enough to cast stark shadows about the court.

"Lend me your eyes!" Laviny roars.

Eshe and the other sun-knights look to the ground and turn their mirrored shields inward. Immediately, near-blinding reflected sunlight bounces around the room, forcing everyone else to cower and cover their faces. Laviny's hands work to continuously mold and shift the orb, ensuring the dazzling patterns it creates are never consistent.

"And sound the coming of dawn!"

All six members of the Order begin to stomp their metal boots against the floor in a carefully choreographed march, one designed to sound arrhythmic and unpredictable. The cacophony and dancing lights combined make focus all but impossible for those who do not have each sight and sound memorized.

It is the March of Dawn, an essential ritual of the Order for disrupting enemy sorcery.

The display snaps Queen Helena out of Her shock. "Is this how you hope to face me? Cheap parlor tricks? Fools. I have ruled this kingdom for centuries; I AM Arlunn!"

She raises her palms to the sky and the very foundations of reality begin to quake. All around them, the palace walls fade into an endless expanse of starlight, the physical world stretched to the point of transparency by the sheer volume of magic flowing out of the Queen. Primordial forces slam against the Order's perimeter: howling winds of impossible cold, the crushing pressure of an entire ocean bearing down, and electric currents strong enough to leap up and arc against their shields.

But Eshe and their fellows remain steadfast in their faith, never hesitating in their movements for a single moment, and the barrier of sunlight around them holds.

"Forward!"

The knights march steadily toward the Queen, stepping in front of the other nobles.

"Come no further, or...or I'll turn you to dust as well!" She shrieks, eyes shifting as the din of crashing metal boots makes it harder and harder for Her to focus on Her spells. The powers She wields become more sporadic and unpredictable; time and space itself seem to skip and jitter around Her like a tremolo note, distance between objects and people becoming blurrier in the endless void the court has become.

Yet no matter how She tries to stretch and delay the Order's advance, their march forward remains steady--they've locked in on exactly where and when they are, so much so that they know when to step up the now-invisible stairs separating the silver throne from the rest of the court.

Once they do, Queen Helena's face goes pale and Her focus breaks. She backs away from them, Her spells now fizzling entirely, only to trip on the corner of Her throne and be sent sprawling back onto Her elbows. "Fine! Do you think I need spells to crush upstarts like you? Don't be foolish!"

The physical room becomes opaque once more as the Queen stops fruitlessly channeling Her sorcery. She lets out a sharp whistle instead, then scrambles backward until She bumps up against the curved wall of the court. "Die by the blade if you must, fools!"

Around the circumference of the room, automata burst through the entrances and rush to protect their creator. With their identical heights and precise movements, they appear as a unified wave of burly mass.

"On me! About face!" Laviny commands.

The knights tighten their formation around him and pivot to face the encroaching machines. From this direction, Eshe is now on point, staring down the impending assault. Swords will not penetrate the automata's flesh; pain and exhaustion will not deter them. For all intents and purposes, they are undefeatable in battle.

But the Order has no intention of battling them.

The first of the machines bear down on the sun-knight, close enough that the irises of their dead eyes are visible. Eshe feels no fear. There isn't enough time.

"Eshe, now!"

Eshe focuses on the presence of their fellow knights, hand-picked honest souls they've fought beside countless times. Their mutual trust steadies any wayward emotions while the vibrations of their stomping filter out needless thoughts, allowing Eshe to see and manipulate the fabric of creation.

The spell they plan to use was birthed in part by their initial observations of the automata in the red room with Veronica. There, they noticed the machines were remarkably similar to marble statues both in appearance and substance--no doubt Helena wanted Her victims aesthetically consistent with Her palace. But with machine and palace alike made of similar material, a touch of magic can easily blur the line between the two...

Pulling and twisting on the threads of reality, Eshe unleashes their magic in a wide swath around them. The nearby automata stumble and falter as their feet melt into the floor, the marble beneath them churning and rippling like liquid. As one row falters, the next mindlessly charges past them into the trap themselves, until all the machines are at least partially stuck. Driven by their programming, they continue struggling and wading forward only to sink deeper still, almost as if they were in quicksand. When the automata in front reach the sun-knights, only their heads and shoulders are visible.

And then Eshe cancels the spell, and the marble becomes solid once more.

Errant limbs, heads, and torsos of automata jut out of the ground awkwardly as if part of some unnerving sculpture garden, jerking and twitching but unable to move. Queen Helena's army of unkillable, perfectly obedient soldiers is stuck inside Her floor.

Human guards flood in behind them, but cannot reach the knights before Laviny strides over to the Queen and puts his blade against Her neck.

"Call them off."

The monarch looks up at him with eyes full of tears and contempt, Her purple gown dusty and tattered. "Vulture," she spits.

Laviny doesn't even blink. "Last chance. Three. Two. O--"

"Stop!"

The voice comes from behind them. Eshe turns to see Lady Francine stagger to her feet.

"Stay your blade, Sir, lest you plunge our kingdom into war." The spymaster turns to the royal guards. "And you lot, stand down. Don't be stupid." After a moment of hesitation, the guards lower their weapons and step back. Laviny, however, does not.

"Lieutenant. Restraints. In my satchel."

Eshe steps forward and retrieves a thin length of chain and lock from the pack on Laviny's hip. The metal numbs their fingers and sends a shiver up their spine when they touch it--imbued with a number of sorcery-restraining spells, no doubt. The fact that Laviny brought it to the meeting speaks either to his preparedness or his paranoia. Or both.

Queen Helena stares straight ahead into nothing as Eshe fastens the restraints around Her wrists, the will to fight having apparently left Her. Once they finish, Laviny finally pulls his sword away from Her neck and sheathes it. The room collectively exhales in relief. Eshe does as well, though for different reasons; with the immediate threat of the moment gone, the physical tax of their sorcery catches up with them. Sweat beads their brow, their joints ache, and they have to lean against the wall to keep from falling over. A few of their fellow knights approach them, concerned, but Eshe waves them off.

"Nothing but a bit of fatigue," they say.

They aren't the only one--around the room, assembled nobles collect themselves and gradually return to their seats, still somewhat dazed by the displays of sorcery. Out of the corner of their eye, Eshe spots Veronica creeping toward an exit on her hands and knees. She doesn't make it far.

"Knight-Captain! What of...uh. Her?" One of the sun-knights gestures to Veronica. Eshe sighs. Always the complications.

Laviny looks her over curiously. "Keep her there; she's coming with us. Something doesn't quite add up."

Eshe slides down the wall to sit. This isn't an entirely unexpected development, but...by Sol, what did they get themself into? Before they can wallow too deeply in self-pity, Laviny turns to the nobles and begins speaking in a booming baritone.

"As arbiter of the First Executor's Will, I declare Sorceress-Queen Helena a corruptor and a tyrant. Duke Berinni, may he rest in peace, called our Order here to stop Her from spreading disorder and to protect the people of Arlunn. He believed such an end could be achieved through peaceful negotiation; tragically, he was wrong. Therefore, the Order will henceforth take matters into our own hands regarding the Queen's judgment. Clearly, all others lack the means and convictions necessary to quell rogue sorcery."

The room erupts into discontented murmurs as Laviny finishes his speech. Eshe doubts the sincerity of his grand rhetoric, though--his guaranteed payment just died with Berinni, and anything he does now will be first and foremost for the sake of getting it back. A bluff serves that end. Whisking the Queen away to cut off Her head does not.

By Sol, Eshe wishes they didn't have to think so cynically. It reminds them of Veronica's darker memories.

Lady Francine is the first to speak in response. "While I don't doubt the soundness of your judgment, Knight-Captain, this is first and foremost an Arlunni affair. It should be handled within our own courts." Eshe notices that despite putting on her usual air of dry confidence, Lady Francine had to tuck her hands tightly in her armpits to keep them from trembling. She's likely shaken from her peer's disintegration--destructive sorcery can be uniquely terrifying to those unacquainted with it.

Laviny glares at her. "Allow you and the Queen's other lackeys to absolve Her of any wrongdoing? I think not."

Francine exchanges a few quiet words with Paolo, who then steps forward and takes over from the spymaster.

"Please, Laviny. Our first priority must be the stability of the kingdom." The Viscount walks over to the sun-knights, appealing directly to their Captain. "None here can deny Queen Helena's crimes now; not after what they've seen. A fair, balanced trial is an opportunity for reconciliation. Let us settle our disputes before a judge instead of on a battlefield."

Laviny says nothing.

Paolo's next words are whispered. "Francine will cooperate, and the royalists will follow her lead. And we will make you whole, Knight-Captain. You've done a great deal for us."

"If I agreed," Laviny states cautiously, "then we would need to stay in Arlunn a while longer. Keep a close eye on the Sorceress-Queen. Help ensure a peaceful transfer of power."

Paolo nods. "You will have a seat at the table. I swear it."

"Fine." Laviny glances at Queen Helena, who by now has brought Her knees to Her chest and shut Her eyes. "She can remain in the palace under my guard. Consider it a sign of goodwill."

Eshe's stomach drops as their cynical instincts are proven correct. More than that, though, the way Laviny phrased his request is remarkably ominous; 'stay in Arlunn a while longer' is vague enough that he could realistically keep the Order in one place for years. And why wouldn't he? If his main concern is truly money and stability, then wedging his way into whatever new government forms is an excellent way to ensure both. Before they know it, the Order could be unrecognizable--no longer nomadic, no longer separate from any kingdom, no longer dedicated purely to the will of Sol.

There's no real way of knowing as of yet. Perhaps the fact that it could realistically happen is what truly terrifies them.

The meeting adjourns not long after, resolving to meet in the morning for further discussion of the trial. Save for those guarding the Queen and Veronica, the members of the Order retire to various guest rooms in the palace to sleep off what little remains of the night. Despite their exhaustion, though, sleep predictably wants no association with Eshe. They lie awake in a remarkably comfortable bed, staring at the ceiling and stewing in their thoughts.

Eshe betrayed the Order of Sol Gloria. They made an incredibly rash decision without consulting their superior, one that nearly ended in complete and total disaster. Putting aside Veronica's attempt to kill the Queen--which they haven't even begun to process yet--secretly saving her meant angering a powerful, unpredictable sorceress without warning their fellows of the potential danger. A knight could have easily been killed back there. They all could have easily been killed back there.

And yet.

Facing danger to fight wicked sorcerers and save their victims is the Order's purpose; it is the most direct way to walk the Path of Sol. If they or their fellow knights had fallen in battle with the Queen, it would have been a death worthy of the First Executor itself. Any sun-knight would have been willing to suffer such a fate for the greater good. Eshe cannot say the same thing about the other dangers they've faced in the Order's Arlunni campaign. It doesn't justify their secrecy, but had they not acted secretly they never would have acted at all--Laviny would never have given them permission to save Veronica, and the threat of fucking Reflection would have stopped them from even mentioning the idea.

They can't bring themself to regret their actions.

And yet.

Laviny will learn what they've done. Queen Helena clearly believed Her accusations against the Order, and the Knight-Captain will want to investigate Veronica to understand why. Once he finds evidence of the Order's magic in her mind, he'll scour the ranks to uncover the insubordinate knight who altered her. Eshe could keep their head down, destroying evidence of their involvement, but they doubt it would work; even if it did, they'd be subjecting their siblings-in-arms to a grueling inquisition for the sake of saving their own skin. No, if Eshe wants to walk the Path of Sol as they understand it, there's only one thing for them to do:

They have to tell Laviny.

*****

Eshe is coming to truly hate the command tent as of late. Even its new location in the palace courtyard doesn't help--its authority is imposing enough to drain the joy out of wherever it may be. Too many recent bad memories attached to the large slab of canvas, they suppose. Today will likely only create another.

They gave themself two days to settle their affairs before confessing to Laviny, days spent with those in the Order they cared for most. Just in case they didn't get the chance to see them again, they wanted to leave things on a good note. They caught up, offered long-overdue gratitude, and listened to the stories and troubles of their siblings-in-arms, almost as if archiving the past few decades of their life.

Those two days were good. Better than most, even. And then they ended, the sun rose on the third day, and they came to the command tent where they're now putting off the inevitable.

"Knight-Captain?"

"Come in!" Laviny sounds like he's in high spirits; looks it too, once Eshe lifts the flap and can see inside the tent. Their Captain methodically peels apart and eats an orange, making sure each and every scrap of rind lands in a neat pile on the corner of his desk. "Sit! Good things are happening, Lieutenant, good things indeed. We'll make a positive out of this whole mess yet, Sol willing."

"I'm glad." Eshe sits down rigidly, their courage only barely sufficient for what they're about to do. "Laviny, I wanted to speak with you about Lady Veronica Tiern."

He scratches his beard and nods sagely. "It's odd, isn't it? I can't quite understand how she fits into everything. When I have a moment this evening, I'll be visiting her to try and find out." Another section of orange pops into his mouth.

"It's..." If they think about it, they can't say it. So they focus their gaze on a map of Arlunn pinned to the wall, letting the words fall out while they think about topography instead. "I used sorcery to alter her mind. Not to make her an assassin, but...to break the Queen's spell. To free Veronica."

Laviny's chewing slows considerably as if to compensate for the wheels spinning inside his head. The longer he takes, the closer Eshe gets to passing out for lack of breath. He swallows, then meets their eyes. "How?"

"Lord Paolo asked me to. He organized the meeting along with Lady Francine."

Laviny continues staring at them coolly. "Why?"

While face to face with their superior, the fancy words and bold statements of their earlier justifications evade them. They won't be monologuing about the Order's purpose--they can barely squeak out a simpler version of the truth. "She was ensorcelled. I was her only hope."

There's no eruption of anger from Laviny, no verbal attacks--only a long, drawn out sigh. It's somehow far worse. "Is it fair to say you understand the incredible danger you put us all in?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And the severity of your insubordination?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Right. And am I correct in assuming there's some sort of intimacy between you and Lady Veronica?"

They blush brightly, the last question coming as a surprise. Remembering their morning with Veronica only deepens the pinkish hue of their cheeks. "Ah. Uh. Yes? Incidentally, I mean. After I helped her."

Laviny raps his knuckles against the desk several times and shakes his head. "I hoped you'd gotten past this."

Eshe frowns. Gotten past what? "Sir?"

"Nevermind that--you wouldn't remember anyways." He seems to arrive at some sort of conclusion, rising from his seat to pluck documents from a nearby cabinet. "Perhaps I've been too lenient."

Eshe feels like they should be alarmed, but their wariness is weighed down by intrusive thoughts of elaborate color arrays. They're butting against something erased by a Reflection, it seems. Or by several. That should probably alarm them too, but it doesn't. It can't. "Has this happened before?"

"Several times. Though never to this extreme." Laviny finds the scroll he's looking for and sits back down to search through it--when unfolded, it's revealed to be a listing of the Order's members. "Your heart is always in the right place, Eshe. But occasionally, you focus too much on an individual--usually one you've fallen for--and lose sight of the larger picture. You've more than a few lovers scattered across the continent, all of whom inspired some sort of foolishness or doubt from you."

Dread clogs their veins and makes their blood run cold. They think back to their recent revelation regarding the Order's corruption--have they had it more than once? More than twice? Only to have it wiped from their mind because they slept around?

No, no. Everyone knew about their appetite for pleasure, and it wasn't an issue. The sex alone wouldn't prompt Reflection. But questioning the Order would. Confronting corruption would. Taking a stand would. And loyal knight that they are, Eshe had probably confessed to Laviny whenever they did any of those things.