Amelia Thornheart

Serena vaguely sensed a disruption in the aetherfield before the skull's eyes glowed red, and a familiar gruff voice spoke out.

“Hmm… Captain. Miss Thornheart,” Anathor intoned in greeting. Serena opened her mouth as a question formed but quickly closed it. Anathor had once told her he could leave the ship if he had to, but it wasn’t a good idea as the ship would begin to behave strangely if he was gone for too long. As captain of the Vengeance, Serena had never known Anathor to leave.

At least, not to her knowledge.

“No greeting for me, Anathor?” Chesterfield said with a soft smile.

“Hmm… hello, Chesterfield,” the skull eventually mumbled after a long silence.

“Before we begin,” Chesterfield announced, spreading his hands wide. “I hope you don’t mind, but it’s important that we record this conversation, so…” the demon reached into a pocket and brought out an ornately cut moon crystal sitting in a small box. Unlike the other box on the table, which gave her an ominous feeling, this one was immediately recognisable. She used the same device to record her initial interrogation with Amelia.

An Axiom Crystal.

Chesterfield placed the device on the table and twisted the activation crystal. With a small click, the crystal began to glow a gentle blue as it passively recorded all sounds in its vicinity. Casting a suspicious glance at the Intelligence Officer, Serena reached over and picked up the device, examining it from all angles.

“You can be at ease, Lord Halen. There’s no truth-telling crystal being used,” Chesterfield assured her with a disarming smile. “It was considered but eventually decided to be too offensive a strategy. Besides…” his smile widened slightly, “I’m more than capable of telling if someone’s telling the truth. It becomes second nature when you’ve been doing this as long as have.”

Satisfied but remaining suspicious, Serena returned the Axiom Crystal and glanced at Amelia. Her girlfriend must have sensed her concern as she said, “Other than that device and the aetherlights, the only other crystal in the room is whatever’s used in the locking mechanism of the safe hidden behind that painting.” Amelia gestured to one of her father’s landscape paintings on the wall.

“Additionally,” Amelia continued, “I can’t sense any blessings on this man. Still…” Amelia glanced at Serena and then Chesterfield. “I don’t intend to tell any lies, but I might refuse to answer some questions.” Amelia held Chesterfield’s eyes calmly. It seemed her girlfriend was made of sterner stuff than Serena was. Something about Chesterfield put her on edge. The man wasn’t a mage or warrior, and he didn’t seem to be warded in any way, yet something felt off.

“Well, now!” Chesterfield announced cheerfully. “This is already getting off to a wrong start. This is no interrogation or underhanded way to investigate you two. All that’s already been done, thanks to my wonderful subordinates. One of which you’re familiar with, an…” he raised an eyebrow, “...Officer Adachi?”

“I meant no offence,” Serena said smoothly. “I, as well as any Captain worth their horns, know full well the games Intelligence plays. The last game of which would have killed dozens of innocent civilians if Amelia wasn’t there to heal them.” She tried not to glare at Chesterfield but nevertheless found herself giving him a hard stare. His behaviour and attitude were disarming, much like Amelia's. However, unlike Amelia, this man had none of her naivety.

A very dangerous demon.

“It is understandable, and what happened the other night with the Sakamoto was an unexpected consequence of a rushed operation. Speaking of…” Chesterfield gave Amelia a polite smile. “Lord-Prospect Thornheart, your continued supply of aether over such an enormous distance to maintain the ward you’ve placed upon Miss Volkova is, while a brilliant testimony to your talent, causing us significant problems.

“Not only is this river of aether causing continued interference with our early warning aetherscopes - a vital part of our strategic defence - but it is also interfering with the arcwhale's yearly migration, whom rely upon the natural aether flows to navigate south to the Shattered Isles. I kindly request you cease this particular spellwork.” Chesterfield finished his sentence with a delicate sip of his mint tea.

Amelia didn’t reply immediately and Serena wasn’t sure if she should speak for her or not. On one horn, Amelia’s naivety and tendency to just power through every problem meant Serena often found the urge to jump in and prevent possible escalations. On the other horn, Amelia often demonstrated remarkably sharp observation skills and an ability to approach serious topics maturely.

“... I can do that,” Amelia eventually said. “If I write a letter to her, can you ensure she reads it?”

“Certainly.” Chesterfield nodded. “Please understand it will be read beforehand to prevent any accidental slips of intelligence. I’m sure Lord Halen here will be able to aid you in its writing.”

Amelia nodded slowly and a moment later Serena felt the flow of aether that had been pouring out of Amelia for almost two days now cut off.

“Excellent. Thank you, Lord-Prospect Thornheart. Now…” Chesterfield took another polite sip of the mint tea and turned his gaze to Serena. “Where were we? Ah, yes, the Vengeance. How long have you been its Captain?”

“Nearly four years,” Serena answered, glancing at the skull's glowing eyes. She knew Chesterfield would already know this information but played along to move the conversation along.

“And what information regarding the Vengeance were you given after it chose you to be its captain?”

Serena frowned slightly. The Vengeance was one of the few subjects she’d refused to answer Amelia’s prodding questions about. If Chesterfield was asking these questions now, then a decision must have been made to permit Amelia to hear the answers.

“An anomaly. A living ship with a damaged soul.” Serena glanced at Anathor. “With a Formless guardian, forever bound to the ship to protect it and its crew.”

“Hmm… my noble duty…” Anathor quietly mumbled.

Chesterfield nodded. “A good summary. And what of the fourth deck? What were you told regarding that?”

Serena glanced at Amelia, feeling a little guilty. When the fourth deck had been brought up previously, she had lied and told Amelia no one knew what was contained within.

“A protective shell,” she answered. “Containing the damaged soul, in a form that must never be released unless…” Serena hesitated as she remembered the words once carefully explained to her. “Unless the ship's capture is imminent, or the destruction of the enemy is of cataclysmic importance.” Chesterfield nodded. Serena looked at Amelia; instead of seeing any annoyance at being lied to, her girlfriend was on the edge of her seat with the same excited glint in her eyes that she always had when discussing any mystery.

“A simple and accurate summary, Lord Halen,” Chesterfield said. “However, a little bereft of the whys and the hows. Tell me, have you never felt the urge to investigate further? Anathor tells me you never truly tried to pry any further secrets.”

Serena shrugged. “I had my duty, and that was enough for me. Besides, a living ship isn’t that unusual. The South uses stone golems for work, and the North has ice spirits. It wasn’t a difficult thing to accept.”

“How very reliable. If half our captains were as straightforward as you are, the war would be over already.” Chesterfield said with an amused smile. “I’m here to unlock more of the puzzle, as the knowledge is required for your upcoming duty. Firstly, I have to clarify a few things.” The demon took a sip and, finding it empty, frowned and poured himself a refill.

“The information you will receive is classified at the highest level. I will later clarify what you can pass down to your officers; if I do not explicitly sanction it, then it’s only for your and Lord-Prospect Thornheart’s ears.”

“Amelia is not part of the military,” Serena clarified. “Why is she involved?” She sensed Amelia cast a longing look at her but resisted the urge to turn her head. Instead, she did her best to hold Chesterfield's gaze.

“No, she is not. However, this task is something only you can do together. The combination of the Vengeance, Lord-Prospect Thornheart and yourself is a unique arrangement. This task also falls under her obligation as Cascadian nobility to protect the Empire from its enemies…” Chesterfield’s expression slightly twisted, as if he had eaten something sour. “...Domestic and foreign.”

He quickly recovered and eased back into a relaxed smile. “We cannot, of course, force Lord-Prospect Thornheart. Nor would we want to, out of respect for her tremendous talent. Yet, as you will find out shortly, we believe, given the reports of her personality and desires, she will be more than happy to accompany you in this duty.”

Serena felt herself frown but otherwise didn’t challenge Chesterfield further.

“Now. Your summary of the Vengeance was accurate but a little misleading. Unlike the stone golems of the South or the ice spirits of the North who gain their bodies and souls through a natural process, the Vengeance was an artificial joining of a ship and a splintered soul.”

“Whose soul!?” Amelia blurted out.

“Classified,” Chesterfield answered mildly.

“One moment,” Serena tapped her horns in thought. “I was told the soul was damaged, but you just referred to it as splintered. What’s the difference?”

“Ah! And we arrive at the most important part!” Chesterfield placed down his teacup and clasped his hands together. “A long time ago, it was whole, and then…” He mocked an explosion with his hands. “...then it was many.”

“Splintered,” Serena said.

“Splintered,” Chesterfield echoed.

“So it’s not a damaged soul contained within the fourth deck, but a splinter of a larger soul?”

“Precisely, although a better term would be a shard. Normally, a splintered soul would have its shards evaporate into the mists, but the larger shards of this soul are unique and are determined to hang around this realm. The Vengeance contains one of the greater shards, which is why the ship has the unusual ability to be unaffected by most lumina interference.”

Serena narrowed her eyes. “There are more shards?”

The demon nodded. “There are. Some have owners, whom we call shardbearers. The remaining shards do not have owners, and it is those which the Empire is very interested in recovering.”

“Why?”

“Because whatever unclaimed shards remain, they were large enough to avoid evaporation after the splintering and would have crystalised into a stable form by now.” He raised a finger and pointed high up on the wall. “What’s that?”

Serena followed his finger. “...An aetherlight.”

“Yes, but in this context, it’s power. Generated from a cut crystal.” Chesterfield gave her a pointed stare.

“They’re that dangerous?” She asked, understanding his point. “A weapon?”

“Weapons and a whole host of other applications that can be as benevolent as they are devastating. But we don’t want you to sail around the Known World collecting shards so we can cut them, no…” Chesterfield narrowed his eyes. “We want you to deliver these shards to the fourth deck so they can reform and make whole what was once lost.”

Serena blinked. She took a sip of the mint tea for the first time and found it was cold. Still, she drank it slowly while running Chesterfield's words through her mind.

“What was it exactly? When it was whole?” she asked.

“Hmm… it was hope, Captain,” Anathor answered.

Serena turned towards the glowing skull and raised an eyebrow. “Hope?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“When all was lost, a desperate plea was made…” Anathor grumbled.

“Anathor…” Chesterfield intoned, his voice taking on a note of warning.

“Hmm… a cardinal sin…”

“Anathor!” Chesterfield exclaimed, rolling his eyes before smiling apologetically at Serena. “Apologies, Lord Halen. For the security of the Empire, much of the information regarding the shards is given on a need-to-know basis. You understand this, yes? You would not provide your squad commanders with all the details of an operation lest they get captured, correct?”

Serena nodded slowly. In the military, it was well understood that any information you were given from your superior was what you needed to know, and any information withheld was withheld for good reason. The same concept equally applied in Intelligence.

“Then I hope you can forgive my frustrations about why Anathor…” Chesterfield eyed the skull with a smile that, for the first time, had the subtle curve of a hidden predator. “Decides to ramble on, forgetting what is and isn’t important.”

“Hmm… I do not like you, young Chesterfield,” Anathor grumbled.

“Why us?” Serena said, interrupting their bickering. “If these shards are so valuable, and the Vengeance owns a large one - why risk it sailing around the world? Why risk it in combat? Why not send the Empress’s Lord Guardians or Intelligence Operatives to collect them?”

“So many questions…” Chesterfield mumbled. “We have had some success with your suggestions, but the larger a shard is, the more difficult it is to find. One thing we have learned is that shards can find other shards. This makes sense, of course. A splintered soul would desperately want to reform itself. Therefore, the Vengeance can find its brethren. As for why we use the ship in combat…” Chesterfield smiled softly. “There is a war going on; why wouldn’t we use the tools that give us a distinct advantage?”

Serena suspected this was only a half-answer. Still, she decided not to press further. “You said earlier that Amelia was part of the unique combination that makes this task possible. The Vengeance can find other shards, and I’m its Captain, but why Amelia?” Serena glanced at Amelia and found she was nodding along.

“It’s rather simple,” Chesterfield began with a gentle smile. “Lord-Prospect Thronheart is a powerful Speaker with exceptional perception. On top of that, she has no significant obligations, such as having a city or territory to manage. She is free to roam. She has also expressed the desire to travel and experience many new things. With that, and considering her loyalty to you, it seems a natural fit, does it not?”

“Mmm, mmm!” Amelia nodded enthusiastically. “I agree!”

Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “So where are these shards, then?”

“An excellent question, and unfortunately, I don’t have the answer.”

“Good start,” Serena grumbled. Chesterfield appeared to find her annoyance amusing whilst Anathor chuckled softly.

“We have threads we can pull. Areas of interest. Locations which have demonstrated unusual characteristics. Shards can have… varied influences on their environment. For security, you’ll have one thread to pull at a time. I hope you understand.”

Serena narrowed her eyes at the mild-mannered demon. “And you’ll be our handler?”

“Hmm… I don’t want you on the ship…” Anathor quietly mumbled.

“I see we’re of similar mind, Anathor,” Chesterfield said with a smile. “I will not be joining you on your adventures. Unfortunately, I have no end to pressing matters I need to address and therefore I cannot leave Centralis for long. Officer Adachi will join your crew and act as our line of communication.”

Aiden would be joining the Vengeance’s crew? Serena felt a small smile coming along. During their time in Kenhoro, she became somewhat accustomed to the infamous drunk and found herself missing his silly antics. Still, one Intelligence Officer would hardly bolster their forces.

“My ground forces?” Serena asked. “They were disbanded by the D- I mean, Highlord Corvus. Are they being reinstated?” Serena was a talented Speaker and Amelia was at her own ridiculous level, but two Speakers can only be in two locations simultaneously.

“Ah, yes,” Chesterfield took another sip. “A decision has been made. It was a difficult problem to solve. The presence of Lord-Prospect Thornheart is problematic, and we don’t want another assassination or mutiny on our hands. Considering your destinations will likely take you outside the Empire, we cannot let you take a battalion with you. International conventions prohibit such actions.

“We believe forming an elite squad of capable warriors and mages is the best solution. It’s important that they are loyal to their Captain, with no pre-existing bias towards working with a human Speaker. For this, the best option is to recruit from the upcoming batch of graduates directly.”

“How many?”

“No more than a dozen. Each one either orange-aura or second-circle at a minimum. It would be a formidable force, even without you and Lord-Prospect Thornheart backing it.”

“Where from?”

“The Asamaywa Academy.”

Serena felt her eyes widen. That was the academy she graduated from. Her home from home. “When?” she finally asked.

“The last semester begins in two weeks. The arrangements have been made already. You’ll be a guest instructor, training the second-years before graduation. Also…” Chesterfield gestured towards Amelia. “We would also like Lord-Prospect Thornheart to join the class. After all, one of the most important traits you’ll need to uncover is the willingness to work alongside a human Speaker. Furthermore, Lord-Prospect Thornheart’s participation in the magic and aether classes would be greatly appreciated, as her perception and intuition will help identify talented mages who are comfortable working with her. She’ll become a teaching assistant for the Head Mage.

“Of course, it also gives time for Lord-Prospect Thornheart to become better acquainted with demonkind. The experience will be beneficial for her as well.” Chesterfield punctuated his sentence with a sip of tea. He then placed the teacup on the table and reclined slightly, resting his hands on his knees. “Any questions?” he finally said.

“I… I’m going to school!?” Amelia blurted out. “Magic school!?” Her crimson eyes were wide with excitement and she was grinning like an idiot. “I can’t wait! This is going to be amazing!” She turned to Serena, nodding happily. “Let’s do it!”

Serena couldn’t help but smile at the familiar optimistic enthusiasm. It was only a semester, and it was an opportunity for her to experience the nostalgia of returning to the academy where she had spent so many years training. Thinking about it some more, she felt her own excitement grow. She could show the Grandmaster how far she had come since graduating. What would he say when he saw her sword now?

Also, the Asamwaya Academy possessed proper facilities for Speakers to train in; Serena could use them to get a firm grasp on her recently achieved blue-aura.

There was, however, one thing yet to be addressed. Something that had been gnawing at her instincts for a while. Serena gestured to the small box on the table. “One question. What’s in there? A shard?”

“Good question and good guess, but wrong. This little box doesn’t contain a shard.” Chesterfield's expression suddenly turned serious, and his eyes darkened. “It’s unpleasant, but you must know the threats you’ll face.” Chesterfield reached over and pulled the small box so it was facing her. His hand was poised above it, ready to open the box.

“You’re not the only ones looking for the shards. For nearly a thousand years, the Enemy has also been looking for them. You know them as the Darkblades, but did you ever know why they’re called ‘dark’? Here, take a look…” With a grim expression, Chesterfield opened the box.

The room’s temperature plunged, the aetherlights dimmed, and Serena felt the aetherfield protest. Her instincts screamed at her. Her sword-hand instinctively went to her waist. From within the box, shadow erupted, spewing over the edge and covering the table in what could only be described as an absence of warmth and light.

“That’s impossible…” Serena muttered.

“Hmm… A hateful thing…” Anathor grumbled.

Laying within the box was something unbelievable. 

Something of myth.

A black moon crystal.

 

 

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