The Wandering Sword

"Excuse me," Luciara said to a servant who was dusting a canvas and some ornaments with a feather duster. He paused his task and turned towards her to attend to her.

"Can I assist you with something, Lady Luciara?" he asked.

"Have you by chance seen my mother?" she said, with visible distress. "I need to speak with her."

"Your mother? Honestly, no, Lady Menuha hasn't passed by here," he said, shaking his head. "But shouldn't she be working on that new piece the Lord Mayor commissioned?"

"She's not!" Luciara contradicted him. Her confusion and bewilderment were turning into desperation. "I just stopped by her workshop, and she's not there. I've asked Enqueri and some of your fellow servants, and none of them have any idea where she is."

The servant raised his eyebrows. It was quite unusual for that regular guest to deviate from her routine.

"How strange," he said, lowering his head, looking at the floor thoughtfully before refocusing on the young woman. "Have you looked in other parts of the mansion?"

"Yes," Luciara told him in haste. "But so far, we haven't found anything." She averted her gaze, furrowing her brow in frustration. "This makes no sense... Where could she have gone without anyone noticing?"

Both of them heard footsteps approaching. Luciara turned around to see who it was. All her unease vanished as soon as she recognized the face.

"Mother!" she exclaimed, walking briskly toward her.

"Luciara, what's the matter?" Menuha said calmly. "I was informed that you wanted to speak with me urgently."

"Where were you?" her daughter asked, agitated. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Weren't you supposed to work on that sculpture all afternoon?"

"Oh... So you stopped by my studio and got alarmed when you didn't see me, didn't you?" Menuha gave a slight smile with closed lips. "I decided to take a detour and have a quick cold bath in the balenion before returning to sculpt."

The young woman half-opened her mouth; she was taken aback. Of all the places in the mansion, it never occurred to her that her mother might have gone to the balenion. It was a type of bath with pools of cold and hot water found in the residences of wealthy nobles, and in some public complexes for the enjoyment of commoners throughout various cities in Najta and major Elvirean realms.

"You took a bath in the balenion? At this hour?... And with cold water?" she inquired, looking at her mother with justified incredulity. Usually, the custom was to bathe in the evening with hot water, especially in a temperate climate like that of the forest.

Menuha nodded. "I enjoy taking a cold bath from time to time. I know it's a bit hard to imagine with this cool air, but sometimes it helps clear my mind more than hot water," she explained. "I don't see why it surprises you, dear. Sometimes, I take them at our own home too."

She's right... Luciara thought, recalling this eccentricity that her mother occasionally practiced. The entrance to the balenion is right to the left of the corridor leading to her 'studio,' and since she bathed in the cold pool, she didn't need to summon any servants to prepare the hot water. That's why no one saw her or knew she was bathing.

After tying up the loose ends in her mind, she returned her gaze to her mother.

"No wonder... and here I was worrying," she said, seeing no reason to doubt her mother's story. She felt a sense of embarrassment within for having feared that something might have happened. The fact that her mother's hair and part of her skin appeared damp reinforced the validity of her account. "Yes, I was looking for you to talk," she confirmed. She gave a brief glance to the servant over her shoulder. "Alone."

Her mother's expression matched her daughter's seriousness in that moment.

"Very well. The way you're asking, it must be something important," she agreed. "Let's go to my workshop."

Luciara nodded and addressed the servant she had just consulted.

"Thank you," she said.

The man made a brief bow in response to the young woman's courteous farewell, and she proceeded to follow her mother up the stairs. Just as the two descended the last steps, they noticed the mansion's doors opening to admit someone within its walls.

"Ma... Ser Mathias!"

Filled with immense relief, Luciara hurried away from her mother to greet him.

"Lady Luciara," Mavros greeted her cheerfully.

"How did it go?" She examined him from head to toe to check his condition. "Did you manage to hunt down those beasts?"

The knight glanced around a bit at his surroundings before facing her and giving her a response.

It seems that Lord Galeras has not arrived... I'll take advantage of my last minutes as “Segr Mathias”... he thought, realizing that apart from a few servants, there was no one else around. Very soon, I'll have no choice but to be called by that infamous name.

“It went très ben. Ze danger 'as been eliminated, Mavros said to Luciara. "I barely managed to hunt one beast; a Holy Warrior beat me to ze rest."

"A Holy Warrior beat you to it?" The young woman arched her eyebrows, immediately drawn in by this unexpected mention.

"Ser Mathias," Menuha interjected before her daughter could inquire further, positioning herself to Luciara's right to join the conversation. "It's a relief to see you back and with such good news," she said. "My daughter and I were very concerned for your safety."

"I truly appreciate eet, mah Laydees," he responded, executing a small and elegant bow with his left arm extended like a fan. "Fortunately, I was able to return safely and successfully complete my mission."

There were a few seconds of silence following this brief exchange.

"You must be hungry, Ser," Menuha said, breaking the ice that had settled. "The servants saved plenty of leftovers for you and the Lord Mayor. Just let them know, and they'll heat it up and take it to the dining room."

"Yes, I am quite famished! I was just zinking about zat. Mersa," Mavros replied. He had been feeling the effects of not eating for hours. He turned in the direction of the dining room. "With your permission."

"Wait..." Luciara stopped him, seeing that he was about to leave. "Can I accompany you? I want to hear all about that hunt."

"Of course, you can," Mavros told her, seeking approval in his mother's eyes. "Do you have any objections, Lady Menuha?"

It seems like this was the “important matter” you wanted to discuss with me, she thought with irony as she observed her daughter. She had known in advance. The undivided attention the young lady was giving to the wandering knight said it all without words. "No, why would I?" she finally said to Mavros, giving her approval. "I'll be working. Unless it's an emergency, I’ll appreciate if you both don't come looking for me until I leave my workshop... See you later."

She turned her back to them and walked away with measured steps. For a moment, Menuha watched Mavros over her shoulder with a vigilant expression.

Hm? Luciara did notice this, unlike the distracted knight. Despite not being her true target, she felt the edge of Menuha's scrutiny, making her feel uneasy. Why did she look at him like that?

"Well," Mavros said, bringing the young woman back to the present, "let's head to ze dining room. I'm truly starving…"

***

"To be reheated, it was excellent. It's a shame I missed it freshly made," Mavros judged, sitting in one of the dining room chairs of the mansion, before proceeding to devour the last remnants on his plate. His only companion, Luciara, was notably quiet, sitting across from him and contemplating the table in a thoughtful posture. Since they were alone, they spoke with ease.

"Ashaims... Now I understand the secrecy of Galeras and his men," the girl thought out loud, breaking the silence. The knight had just recounted much of what happened during his “mission” over the course of their meal. "That holy warrior..." She turned her gaze to him. "Did you say his name was Macario Villaral?"

"Yes, that was his name," Mavros confirmed, after swallowing a bite.

"That name and family mean nothing to me," Luciara remarked. She averted her gaze to the table. "My father knows several Holy Warriors from the House of the Royal Rose, and I've never heard of any Villaral. I suppose he's a young, recently graduated warrior, but he must be quite skilled to have taken down so many Ashaim of that kind on his own..." she concluded, making eye contact with the knight. "I wouldn't be surprised if his name becomes famous in a few years."

"Neither would I." A smile on the knight's lips was hinted at by the raised piece of his helmet. Respecting Marisar’s desire to maintain a low profile by using her disguise, he decided to keep the true identity of the 'Holy Warrior' hidden from Luciara and thus omitted the details of the duel he had with the Commander and what happened at the end.

"Although outbreaks of Ashaim occur from time to time in Najta like everywhere else, this one was much stronger than usual," Luciara commented, intrigued by this unusual occurrence. "Normally, they don't become more than nuisances, like corrupt rats that even common folk can protect themselves from. This was much more than that... I don't remember hearing anything like this around here since the days of the Nefeshic Wars. It might even have killed armed soldiers with ease."

In fact, if it did... Mavros regretted recalling the report that Commander Marisar had given to his savior, General Or. Since it was something he didn't see as necessary - and didn't like to mention - he decided to add it as another item on the list of details he omitted.

"Mavros?" Luciara called him, surprised to see his lips forming a line of melancholy. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

Noticing that he had unintentionally triggered her concern, the knight quickly regained his composure.

"I just remembered something, it's nothing," he said, taking a few seconds to regroup before refocusing on their conversation. "Even I am surprised. I didn't expect to encounter such powerful Ashaims in these lands. Thanks to Maskirio, we were able to destroy them before they caused more trouble."

"It's thanks to you and this 'Macario' that we no longer have to worry about terrifying screams or worse things on the paths to Hezaran," Luciara joked. However, she paused for a moment to regain her seriousness. "Maybe it's just my idea, but even though my father has always been very transparent with my mother about his Holy Warrior affairs, I have the feeling that she knows you better than he could have told her."

"Really? Why?" Mavros feigned surprise and ignorance. Luciara rested her arms on the table and laid her head on them.

"And it's not just that. She told me some things when you left that make me think she somehow already knew what was happening outside...," she said. She shifted her gaze to one of the dining room windows, lost in thought. "To be honest, sometimes I feel like I don't know her completely, and I'm her daughter. I have this hunch that she has ‘secrets’ she hides from me."

Lady Menuha, or rather, “General Or,” knows her daughter well. Although somewhat green due to her youth and as impulsive as her father, she's not naive... Mavros acknowledged as he took the last bite from his plate with a fork. Ser Janpelan was right: if there's something she inherited from her wife, it's her perception and intuition, and her talent for subtle arts…

"I... I'm sorry. Please don't take everything I just said too seriously. It's all nonsense," the young woman apologized, looking at the knight, nervous about her disclosure of these personal thoughts.

"I don't think it's nonsense; perhaps you're not far from the truth, Luciara," Mavros said, calm and with a warm smile. He took a sip from his wine glass. "Because you said it yourself: you're her daughter. You know her better than I and anyone else."

A small smile stretched across Luciara's lips, comforted by the knight's response. Despite the short time they had spent together, she was increasingly at ease in his company. From his lips, she always heard the words she needed to hear depending on the occasion.

"By the way... I almost forgot to tell you," Mavros said, adopting a more solemn tone. "I had to change my identity. I won't be a lowly Grianzan knight anymore. When Lord Galeras arrives, he'll probably seek me out and ask to speak privately. Before you wonder why, it's because I'm going to assume the identity of an agent of the Order of Lebias."

"An agent? Of the Order of Lebias?" Luciara looked at him, perplexed not only because she didn't understand the reason for such a sudden and drastic change, but also because she found it curious that he chose to affiliate with that famous organization in a region he was just getting to know.

"Yes," Mavros reiterated. The sound of firm, approaching footsteps indicated that he couldn't explain it at that moment. He lowered the raised portion of his helmet to conceal his mouth. "I'll explain later. All I ask of you for now is not to make fun of my new nam…"

"Good afternoon," the owner of the footsteps greeted them cordially, coming to a stop a few meters from them.

As they turned, they were met with the imposing figure of the Lord Mayor.

"I hope the magret de canard was to your enjoyment, 'Ser Mathias,'" he said with a slight bow, then shifted his gaze and offered his corresponding nod to Luciara. "Lady Luciara, please excuse the intrusion, but I need you to leave me alone for a moment with your escort, if you would be so kind."

"Su, sure," she agreed, somewhat impressed by the knight's fulfilled prediction. She rose from her chair and moved away from the two, crossing the dining room entrance threshold. Galeras took his seat, and seeing that the young woman was no longer in sight, he prepared to speak with the knight.

"Not even in my wildest dreams did I think I would host a warrior from the Order of Lebias," he said. “I am honored, Agent Pernigeriano.”

Agent Per... Pernigeriano? Luciara managed to eavesdrop on the conversation from a corner of the dining room entrance, where she skillfully concealed herself. Her astonishment at the wandering knight's new name was on the verge of turning into laughter, which she stifled with her right hand.

"I've just returned from the city, and you were the first person I wanted to see," Galeras continued, in very high spirits. "I received a report from a Holy Warrior who has been hunting the beasts since this morning. He told me that he and an agent from the Order of Lebias he encountered on the way took care of killing them. Shortly after, General Or herself appeared to confirm it and assure me that she would soon send other agents to inspect the forest and ensure its safety."

General Or?... Luciara thought, absorbed. Just like Commander Marisar, she was familiar with the character and admired her, as did many other aspiring women hoping to become Holy Warriors. General Or is here, and she helped him?!

"Now I understand your behavior and everything you did before leaving my residence. I apologize for being so foolish and rude to you in my ignorance, Agent Pernigeriano."

"I wouldst have had the same reaction as thee, Lord Mayor, " Mavros replied, using his signature knightly speech. "And prithee, simply address me as Agent."

"You and that Holy Warrior have been a godsend in the midst of this chaos," Galeras said. He shifted his gaze, looking at the table with concern. "First that corsair attack in Cirencre yesterday, then those rumors of the Abiyrs' reappearance, and now this violent Ashaim outbreak in my dominion, with human casualties to mourn... I don't like to be superstitious, but this string of misfortunes is ill-omened. I'm sure in the Order you must be more concerned than I am."

Just as I suspected. What happened yesterday is spreading quickly beyond Cirencre, Mavros thought, furrowing his brow. I'm glad I didn't reveal my knight's name.

"Anyway," Galeras continued, "I just wanted to thank you for everything you and the Order have done to save my community from a greater tragedy. If you wish for anything as a reward, feel free to ask."

"Thou art most gracious, Lord Galeras," Mavros said. "But verily, there's no need to bestow upon me aught. All I wish is to find respite and repose for the remainder of this day."

"Mmm…"

The Lord Mayor stroked his mustache in a thoughtful posture. Despite the knight's position, he didn't intend to let his favors go unpaid. His last clarification gave him a good idea.

"So, you wish to rest and relax," he said, returning the gaze with a cheerful smile. "How about I have a hot bath prepared for you in the balenion, Agent?"

"A balenion?" Mavros asked, clearly intrigued. In his homeland, he had encountered a few in some large cities. "Hath this abode a balenion?"

"Yes," Galeras nodded with pride. "It's smaller than a public one, but it has all the amenities and the added benefit of privacy. You only need to wait for a little less than an hour, and you can enjoy your hot water pool for as long as you'd like."

"I wouldst love to partake in that bath. Pray, have it readied with haste." the knight accepted enthusiastically. "Such a respite is precisely what mine body and soul do yearn for."

***

Light wisps of rising vapor hovered over the water of a circular pool, enveloping it in a surreal atmosphere. The pool was carved and suspended on a platform of sculpted stone, accessed by broad steps. Daylight from the transparent stained glass of a domed roof streamed in, casting the eerie, amorphous silhouettes of the mist, exposing one that stood out, well-defined with dark and yellow-ochre strokes: that of a young and naked man with his back turned. Half of his body, strong and majestic like that of a tiger, was submerged in the warm water, with his arms resting on the edge of the pool adjacent to the steps. His loose, straight hair, tinged with black and sapphire, flowed down his neck, with some strands brushing his shoulders. His clothing and pieces of armor lay in neat order on the first steps of the staircase.

Ashaim, the Order of Lebias..., Sheida... he thought, recapping everything noteworthy that had been captured by his senses that afternoon. The clarity of his thoughts was perfect, thanks to the unbeatable relaxation provided by the environment.

Among his memories, one kept overshadowing the others.

Commander Marisar Monteros... He visualized her face in intricate detail, mulling over and reasoning with solemn depth about certain features. Alongside Amina, she's not only one of the few women who's made me eat dirt... She's also the first woman I've met with these traits. He realized it. From the beginning, he had been drawn and intrigued by her unusual yet aesthetic features, like the strange sky-blue color of her hair and her almond-shaped, slanted eyes. Although undoubtedly human, she has some things that are so... “tarburian”.

This conclusion filled him with excitement. It had been an unparalleled encounter in his life.

To top it off, she knows the soft style of the Path of the Twin Suns. She's been trained in the Way... How can this be possible? Why do the daughter of the Lord of the House of the Holy Rose have so much in common with me? Perhaps... our pasts are somehow connected?

He furrowed his brow, frustrated by having no evidence to support these speculations. Only one option came to mind to find out.

One thing's for sure: somehow, I need to find an excuse to see her again. I have to ask her what she knows about my “master” and get to the bottom of this... I have to attend the Eh-Nam Tournament. I might find her there, he decided, gazing at the ceiling with determination.

But suddenly…

"HM?!"

He splashed water as he sprang to his feet, alert. His keen hearing picked up a disturbance in what had been absolute silence, faint but finally perceptible.

What the devil?! The knight's usual composure shattered into pieces. I locked that door!

With his best effort to remain discreet, someone else had just entered the balenion.

Maskirio, this is so awkward... Luciara couldn't stop thinking, the keys to the door trembling in her right hand. She was paralyzed in the hallway leading to the hot pool. She doubted whether it was worth proceeding.

But what are you saying, Luciara? This is the best, maybe the only chance you might have to solve this mystery! Are you going to throw away all the effort of obtaining that damned key just because you're embarrassed to see him without clothes? Her capricious conscience reproached her indecision, forcing her not to turn back. With cautious tiptoe steps, she advanced carefully toward the entrance to the pool.

Meanwhile, Mavros clenched his hands into agitated fists. Regardless of who it was, he found this intrusion into his personal space far from amusing.

Armor! Come to me!

As if pulled by fishing lines, the pieces of his armor instantly flew to their respective positions, encasing his entire body from head to toe.

It would be the height of the ludicrous if, in addition to sleeping, he also bathes in that cursed armor, Luciara told herself, just inches from sneaking a peek at him.

When she caught sight of him standing in the pool with his armor on…

WHAT?! Her stealth was shattered by an uncontrollable start that left her exposed. "No..." Luciara murmured, her mouth half-open and trembling, unsure whether to laugh or cry. "I can't believe this... This can't be real…"

"HEAVENS, LUCIARA!"

Silenced by his enraged shout, she watched as the man whose privacy had been violated leaped out of the pool to land a few meters from her.

"Do... Do you really bathe in that armor too?" The young woman had the courage to ask in the midst of her terror, even as the man who had been a gentle mentor just hours ago had become the embodiment of fury.

Mavros dug his fingers into his palms, nearly scratching the metal of his gloves, attempting to vent his anger as best he could before responding.

"Of course not!" he vehemently denied. "The door was locked! How did you get in?!" he yelled. He soon understood when he noticed the key in her hand. The flames of anger he thought he had extinguished were reignited. "DON'T YOU HAVE A BIT OF SHAME, YOU BRAT?!"

BRAT?!

Luciara frowned, losing her patience with the knight's exaggerated boorishness. More than being insulted, she felt attacked by his harshness and bluntness. For the first time, he had told her exactly what she hated hearing the most.

"Luciara!"

"Ah?!"

Someone had shouted at them in a tone of disgust, and it wasn't Mavros. Both she and the knight turned toward the source equally horrified.

"Mother!"

"My Lady!"

Menuha stood before them with her arms crossed, in the middle of the pool entrance threshold. It was clear that she was taking no sides. Her stern face conveyed an irritation that made no distinction.

There would be many words to be shared between them in the impending night.