#thriaed
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greetings, i handed over a ten-page love confession letter to the handsome blue man screaming at the employees. did he get it?
@thriaed
Greetings!
Cesare has been rendered incoherent since receiving your letter, but rest assured, he is delighted.
Wishing to deliver this response with haste, and without sounding like an "illiterate virgin," he has requested his faithful assistant confirm its delivery.
Once he collects himself, he would like to meet in person to share his kindred sentiments with his usual grace.
Regards,
Doctor.
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@thriaed said: ❛ why can't you just leave me alone? ❜
❝ An' here I thought we were buddy-buddy. Striking me right in the heart. ❞ Hellboy feigned hurt but he wasn't taking her words all that seriously. Was no surprise that a witch might not want him around. Despite a certain sect of witches claiming he would be the KING of all witches. . . which he hadn't taken very well. ❝ Making it sound like I follow you around or somethin'. ❞
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💀 — [ there's an unidentified feral creature digging through the dumpster. it's Cesare. he's finding too many GOOD things in here, which isn't ideal. not enough BAD stuff, like mold and bones and shit ... just pretty, stale pastries. he shouldn't have trusted an alley that smelled so good.
he's cursing as he climbs down -- missing the last rung of the ladder. his landing isn't graceful, but at least he stays on his feet. it saves SOME of his dignity when he realizes someone is there with him.
to keep from standing there like a startled cat, he " casually " slaps his hand to the dumpster, leaning on his arm. as if that is much cleaner than having just dug through it. ]
" UH -- HEY-y-y ... "
[ @thriaed! ]
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@thriaed asked; ❝ technology advances. but humans don’t, ❞ said the 334-year-old witch
altered carbon prompts
A lot had to be said for the passage of time, how it leaves an indelible mark on the cradle of humanity. Plenty of species had roamed this rock in one era or another, leaving behind traces, but none had been as instrumental in its reshaping as humans themselves; a force that could rival the natural whims of the elements when it came time to remodelling the landscape beneath.
Part of such work had manifested as Nueva York, a megacity that arose from the rot and ruin of yesteryear to regain some semblance of its former, forgotten glory. More people than ever before took refuge within its dizzyingly tall structures, with hovercars, drones and other advancements in automation forming the connections required to navigate its sprawling streets and multiple levels.
And it was here, upon a particular promenade suspended hundreds of feet in the air, that both Spider and reality-displaced Umbra witch could be found. Observing the world as it went through its daily routine, ignoring their presence -- as well as the dangers that lurked unseen.
"That's certainly one way of putting it." Chiming in, his words come at her from behind, talons, planted like anchors, keeping him suspended in place before deciding to drop onto his feet, a transition that almost felt eerie, had Miguel's tone strayed from its calm and even level. "It's... how it's always been around here." Uttered with a heavy heart, he spoke from a place of experience, had tried to instigate change, balance the irrevocably skewed equation that is society.
Only to find that it was little more than a Sisyphean task, a waste of stamina that saw each attempt at reform met with resistance. There was only so much that the Spider-Man of this dismal future could do before he had extinguished every idea, outmatched by the entrenched forces of corruption and apathy that spread throughout every section of Nueva York.
"So how about we get back to work. Address what we can control and influence." Whilst there was still time left to act.
#thriaed#verse; trasnaigh an rubaicón#answered prompt#*waves hand at this* i sorta had a thought and it turned into this yhuj#no worries about matching length!#chapter; angels with dirty faces
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❝ Call me naive, but in my world, the general consensus is that angels are literal symbols of goodness - so why slay them? ❞
@thriaed || 𝚂𝙲.
#𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙼𝚂. (TRAVELS THROUGH TIME⸴ SPACE & THE MULTIVERSE)#thriaed#he's thinking 'now DEMONS I can absolutely understand hunting down. but angels? the math ain't mathin' somewhere
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ღ
inbox me a ‘ღ’ and I’ll rate you with the following:
romantic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme sexual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme aesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme sensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme
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ooc ; hehehe !! 🖤💙
send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours .
●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● | INTEREST ●●●●○ | LOYALTY ●●●●○ | TRUST
LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH
@z0mburger.
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Dweebs
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What's wrong, mommy~
ASHSHSTSH
IM HONNA FUCKGKNG MELFT
I FUCK
THE
WHEN
SHAK
FUCK
HAHSHSUS
AHSHHA
WHE
WN
WHENNN
#muffet is simping aginn#I GATE THRIA#MY BRAIN#FUCKING#”OH KETS READ THIS IN ALL UR S/OS VOICES!!! THAT WILL BE FUNNY”#OH FKUCK ME
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Sender: @thriaed Prompt: I want the K: NSFW edition ( rolled a 2: Nipple Nibble )
Isobel was a bold one. A trait that he respected highly although it was bound to get her into trouble one day. Probably had gotten her in trouble more than a few times. In this case, her brazen personality was going to see her rewarded.
When the witch straddled his lap as if it were her proper seat he was immediately amused, albeit a bit confused about the action. Right as his mouth opened to ask the question of why, she was already shedding her top. Silencing him ⎯ his question dying on the tip of his tongue. When she let her fingers trace around the edge of the stumps resting where his horns should be he hummed. She had his undivided attention now, that was for sure.
Wordlessly he leaned in to let his lips begin to pepper kisses at her chest. They encircled an exposed nipple, sucking gently until it hardened. Her other breast was given attention by his left hand, giving a cursory squeeze and enjoying the softness. Teeth teased her, nibbling playfully at the bud and listening for a response. More than ready to revel in his audience's reaction.
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💀 — [ he solemnly twirls a scraggly lock of hair around a finger, ] “ THIS is a dangerous combination, right here. This is … This is a wombo-combo that turns me into a medieval stable-boy. “
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@thriaed asked; ¨ something’s wrong , missing , gone . can’t you feel it ? i can . ¨
vicious novel prompts
The question prompts a moment of recollection, where, in the not-so-distant past, a younger and more insufferable version of himself would brazenly point out, with a straight face, that it was just the rain she had sensed. It's a shower that manages to trickle down into this pocket of the megacity's lowest levels, reaching depths that not even the sun's rays could penetrate. Not that there was much of that to see right now, with the rare glimpse of slate-grey sky visible between the massive skyscrapers crowding all around them.
But, as with most situations, he'd gotten older, an advancement in age that allowed him to acquire a certain perspective. It meant that instead of dismissing the other's claim as nonsense, he gave it an ounce of consideration instead, ears perking especially at the insistence that something had been displaced. A term that by itself set his senses on alert, shifting in place at the slightest vibration felt from his surroundings.
"Can't say that I have." Tone steeped in caution, he steps closer to the stranger, turning on his heel to make a slow, thorough inspection of the street with his accelerated gaze, feet splashing in the puddles that gathered against his soles while he did so.
"Give me a description. What am I missing?" A great deal of details, as time would soon reveal. His eyes, with their unrivalled visual acuity, still firmly shut to the world unseen.
#thriaed#verse; trasnaigh an rubaicón#answered prompt#something auxiliary to what we were plotting perhaps? 👀#i don't mind either way - happy to discuss!!!#chapter; angels with dirty faces
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Sneaking medicine to the man she's not supposed to fall for, while he's coughing blood, and oops he confesses to having feelings.
(another excerpt from my fic.)
“Lyn,” Uther breathed in a rough timbre that left goosebumps over her skin. “Where’d you come from?”
He was already half-sitting up in bed, propped on a mass of pillows that helped elevate his head and shoulders. She spotted a blood-stained handkerchief in his hand, even whilst he tried to hide it beneath the fold of a blanket.
Lyn moved to sit on the edge of his bed before even considering the boldness of it. Belatedly she could hear Kent scolding her in the back of her mind. She argued that this wasn’t any different than the time she tended to Marc back in Sacae.
“Oswin let me in,” she told Uther. “I have something for you.”
Uther suppressed a cough and shook his head. “You…shouldn’t be in here. My…symptoms are-“ he covered his mouth with the handkerchief as a fit took hold. He tried his best to twist away so he wouldn’t cough on her.
Lyn uncapped the bottle of medicine in her lap, pulling the cork stopper, and using the metal cap as a cup. She poured the thick honey-sweet medicine into the cap, minding the markings etched just below the rim. As soon as the coughing subsided, she leaned in, pulling Uther’s hand from his mouth.
She ignored his weak protests—and the bloody handkerchief—and pressed the cup of medicine to his lips. “Hush,” she admonished him. “Chastise me for being so forward later. I want you to drink this. It will soothe your throat and suppress the coughing.”
He met her eyes, and there was understanding. His lips parted, allowing her to tip the medicine into his mouth. She saw the muscles in his throat flex as he swallowed it.
After a minute, Uther took an easier breath and relaxed back into the pillows. Lyn corked the bottle of medicine, and set both it and the metal cap on his nightstand.
“Not a…miracle, my ass,” Uther rumbled, his storm eyes fixing on Lyn’s face. His long hair was disheveled, falling over part of his face.
Lyn made a small huff. “My people say, ‘illness fails in the face of a strong heart.’” She reached out and combed the hair out of his face, tucking some of it behind his ear. His lovely little gold hoop earrings glinted in the gentle lamp light. “But there’s a few nice things in there to help ease your discomfort. The medicine itself contains some funguses that help fight off the consumption.” She forced herself to cease touching his hair.
“A cure?” Uther asked, his exhausted voice betraying the slightest edge of hope.
“I…maybe?” Lyn dropped her gaze, hands fidgeting in her lap. “Some of my people have made a long term recovery with this medicine. But…” she trailed off.
“I’ll take my chances with maybe,” he murmured. “It’s better than…the alternative.”
“I wanted to give you the medicine before you left for Thria.”
Uther closed his eyes at that. His breathing was already sounding a little easier, and while his skin was still pale, his brow no longer creased from pain and stress. “In hindsight, attending the conference was a poor decision on my part. Two days of horseback in heavy rain…”
“And you admonish Hector for being reckless.” Lyn gave his side a little shove, and hoped it was his leg she touched, and not someplace else. It was difficult to tell with how buried in pillows and blankets he was.
Uther responded with a weak exhausted laugh. “We are brothers in the end. Sometimes…we want the same things.”
(Check out the rest in my fic, We Danced Anyway. I just posted chapter 7.)
#uther fire emblem#Fire emblem#Utherlyn#Fanfic#Fanfiction#lyn fire emblem#Lyndis#Lyndis fire emblem#Fe7
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[Spaghetti and Meatball, hold the spaghetti]: “Lord Hector? You look alive and well.” And younger. Though they had never met formally, she knew of his name dripped from the lips of others much more familiar with him. Sue pauses, searching for some way to justify her approach. There were meatballs in front of them… That’s a start. She starts picking them up onto her plate.
“Lord Orun spoke of you a couple of times, he was a kind man.” She lifts the plate in his direction. “Would you like to share these?”
"Eh?"
Strange manner of greeting, this one's got. Alive and well, is he? Last he checked, he was, and Hector sure bloody hopes this yet holds true. As though her hello isn't peculiar enough, there's something uncannily familiar about her, though he can't put his finger on it. He nods at the girl's offer, plucks a meatball into his mouth and quietly chews, thinking, thinking,
regis t e r i n g,
and then he claps Sue on the shoulders, looking at her head-on, intense, maybe even a bit excited,
"Hwaaah?! You know Cousin Orun? How's that bastard doing!" Whew. Wow. It's been some time since he's heard of Thria and Orun. Sure, there've been some communications here and there since Uther's passing, but with his own territory to run... Hector can't blame the man being busy.
He blinks, remembers himself in this moment. He's probably overdoing it, isn't he? Hands lift, retreating to his sides, though he nevertheless stares, unyielding. There's still something about her--
"Aha! You're Sacaen, right? Your hair and your eyes..."
No way he's mistaken.
#papulaan#toaball2024#hwaarghh it's been a hot sec since i've fe6'd-- hopefully nothin here is too far off base :flushed: orun.. yay..!#asks#thanks for the ask!#hector has not yet registered the 'was' accompanying sue's mention of orun but. give him time :)
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A Few Notes on 427 BCE: The transfer of the Kingship at Sparta.
In the summer of 427 BCE, the Spartan army marched on Attika to ravage the land for the fourth time in the Arkhidamian War, but unlike the previous three occasions, they were led by an Agiad war-leader, Kleomenes. [Thuc 3.26]
Arkhidamos II, sole Eurypontid king since somewhere around 469 BCE, was probably seriously ill at this time – extrapolated from the fact that he was succeeded by his son Agis II, and the following year, the summer of 426, Agis was the War-King.
One king – the senior king - was always the war-king, so the fact that Agis didn’t lead that army in 427 means that Arkhidamos must still have been alive but couldn’t lead the army as he’d done for many years beforehand.
Kleomenes was the exiled [Agiad] king Pleistoanax’s brother, and was serving as regent to Pleistoanax’s son, Pausanias, who was underage – perhaps meaning below the age of twenty, when an ordinary Spartan could gain full citizenship if he’d met the stringent criteria related to his education, wealth and socialisation; though the eldest sons of Spartan king’s didn’t attend the agoge, so they may have had a different age requirement.
Please note that this is a guess based on almost pure academic speculation. There is a deep lack of evidence around all this topic.
Pleistoanax had been in exile for a long time. In 446, during the Second Sacred War [a series of battles between Athens, Sparta and allies on both sides, for control of Delphi] Pleistoanax invaded Attika, going as far as Eleusis and Thria, before turning back. He was believed to have been bribed into retreating. [Thuc. 2.21]
Cartledge, quoting Gomme, suggests that, ‘The real bribe, however, may not have been monetary, but “the offer to surrender, or discuss the surrender of, Megara, Troizen and Achaia,”’ [S&L:ARH pg. 197] places taken during the Sacred Wars.
In the winter of 446-445, Athens and Sparta agreed the 30 Years Peace which lasted until the outbreak of the Arkhidamian War. Pleistoanax was exiled before this, probably in 445 BCE. [Thuc. 2.21.]
For context, in 418 BCE, Agis II did the same thing, accepting a four-month treaty with Argos without consulting the ephors and gerousia then returned ‘the finest army ever seen in Hellas’ to Sparta. The authorities at home were livid - they threatened to burn down Agis’ house and fine him 100,000 drachmae. He managed to avoid this outcome, but the next time he marched out with the army, he had to take ten commissioners with him, and if he wanted to withdraw his troops from enemy territory, the ten had to agree. This was completely unprecedented. The War-King had always been the absolute authority when on campaign. [Thuc 5.63]. But, all things considered, he was lucky that his victory at the Battle of Mantinea let him off the hook.
Thucydides tells us that Pleistoanax took refuge on Mount Lykaion (in Arkadia), sacred to Zeus Lykaios, where he lived in a house that was built half inside the sanctuary, ‘because he was afraid of the Spartans.’ [Thuc 5.16]
We don’t know when Pleistoanax returned to Sparta with any precision, but it was almost certainly later in 427 BCE, and I’d personally put money on it being only possible after Arkhidamos’ death. It’s said that ‘they brought him back with the same dances and sacrifices as when they inaugurated the kings at the original foundation of Sparta.’ [Thuc 5.17]
The fact that he wasn’t made War-King, despite his seniority both in personal age and the seniority of the Agiad line, suggests that he was considered a ‘new king’, rather than a restored one; but perhaps it was the cause of his exile which prevented him being made the War-King as was his ancestral right.
His return was apparently difficult for him. The Spartans, understandably, didn’t trust him at all.
When speaking of the push for the Peace [of Nikias, in 421], Thucydides tells us that Pleistoanax was very eager for the peace to be agreed, because his opponents were causing his ‘embarrassment.’ Every time Sparta had a set-back in the war, they put it down to his ‘illegal’ return, accusing him and another brother, Aristokles, of bribing the Pythia to repeatedly tell Spartan delegates seeking guidance from Apollo that ‘they must bring back the seed of the demigod son of Zeus from a foreign land to their own, or they would always plough with a silver ploughshare.’ [Thuc 5.16-7] The son of Zeus is Herakles, from whom both the Spartan royal houses traced their lineage.
Quoted Sources:
Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War, translated by Martin Hammond.
Paul Cartledge, Sparta and Lakonia: A regional history 1300 - 362 BCE.
#gathering thoughts/inspo for a fic#spartan history#arkhidamian war#peloponnesian war#spartan kingship#ancient sparta#ancient greece#ancient history#archidemian war#sparta
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FE6 Novelization Translation - Chapter 15 Section 2
If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!
FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations
If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!
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Chapter 15: The Rebellion of Ostia (Section 2)
*Note: The 1st 13 chapters are FE7's novelization.
There was neither the flame of a candle nor the light of a lamp within the room, and so when night fell, it succumbed to almost complete darkness.
There was one small window near the ceiling. The moonlight that poured through it was the room’s only source of light. Its glow illuminated a lone girl.
Her thick black hair fell to her waist, and she wore a red cloth around her head embroidered with thread the color of rapeseed flowers. She wore an outfit characteristic of the nomads of Sacae around her small frame, and her sharp eyes like that of a hawk or an eagle stared back at the soft moonlight beaming down upon her.
One week had passed since she was locked in this room. She was fed simple meals on a set schedule, but what she hated the most of all was that she could not freely run around outside.
Her grandfather was Dayan, leader of the Kutolah tribe and the man known also as the “Silver Wolf.” The day that Bulgar fell, Sacae’s largest city, he ordered her to flee with the tribe’s women and children. He and the other men stayed in Sacae to continue the resistance and buy them time. As they were trying to escape, they were attacked by one of Bern’s ambush units. To fulfill her duty as the granddaughter of a tribal leader, she challenged Bern’s soldiers to a fight all by herself to draw their attention.
Just like her mother, who had chosen to stay in Sacae though she was a woman, she was also prepared to die proudly protecting her tribe…
But by fighting, she actually fell directly into the enemy’s trap. Lying in the path of those fleeing were members of the Djute Tribe. Though they were also citizens of Sacae, they had defected to Bern’s side, and proceeded to massacre the defenseless women and children. She used every last drop of strength in her body to fire as many arrows as she could, but she had no chance of victory all on her own. Now covered in wounds all over her body, she fled to Lycia.
To shake off her pursuers, she went to Marquess Orun of Thria for help. Orun was Marquess Hector’s cousin, and an acquaintance of Lyn’s, her mother. As the granddaughter of Marquess Caelin, she was once Lycian nobility herself. But as the daughter of a Lycian mother and a Sacaian father, she chose to instead live as a nomad and relinquished her territory over to Ostia, so that she may return to the plains.
The girl had never once met Marquess Thria in her life, so her connection to him was thinner than a spider’s thread. But she had no one else she could turn to. Knowing that it would all be for naught, she went to visit him, and was shocked to hear him happily accept her request for help.
Though she had no proof that she was the great-granddaughter of Lycian nobility, he believed both that she looked exactly like her mother, and that a person from Sacae would not lie. He gave her refuge and kindly tended to her wounds.
His kindness warmed her heart. But when her wounds were healed and as she prepared to thank him before leaving, he was murdered by his own advisor, Wagner, who then locked her up in this room.
“The granddaughter of the Silver Wolf will make a great souvenir for Bern!” He’d said with a cruel smile on his face.
‘I will kill the monster who murdered the man I owe my life to!’ Her resolve was fierce, but until she could leave this room, there was nothing she could do but worry about her family and friends back home. She wanted to kill Wagner and return to Sacae as quickly as possible, but there was nothing she could do about her current situation.
As time passed idly by, her heart began to fall to darkness.
But tonight, she heard violent sounds come from outside the room, breaking the silence of the night.
“It’s getting loud… Are those the sounds of battle? What is going on outside?” The girl doubted her own ears.
They were the sounds of weapons clashing and arrowheads piercing nearby walls. She also smelled something burning, be it a torch, a candle, or Fire magic.
To further investigate what was happening, she started to move closer to the locked door, when it suddenly opened.
She quickly jumped back, and glared at the person who opened the door. “Who are you?”
“Huh? Why is there a girl in here…?” He was a boy with fiery red hair. The moment he saw her, his eyes widened in surprise.
“...Who are you? Um, I’m Roy.”
“My name is Sue. Are you responsible for the sounds outside?”
“Sounds?”
“The sounds of battle.”
“Yes. It's a long story, but we are currently fighting the residents of this castle.”
“I see. Then I am your ally. The residents of this castle are also my enemy.”
“Huh? What do you mean by that…?”
He started to ask her more questions, but her cold voice cut him off. “Allow me to borrow a bow from you. I think I can help you.”
ー
“Grr, you’re useless, all of you!” Wagner, a shaman wearing a dark blue robe, clicked his tongue as he ran as quickly as he could towards the northern side of the castle.
His goal was a small entrance the servants used. ‘There’s no way any of their soldiers could have possibly made it this far yet!’ He thought.
“Dammit… How could my perfect plan fall apart…?!” He growled as he continued down the long hallway.
While Sacae continued their stubborn resistance, he captured the Silver Wolf’s granddaughter. If he handed over the head of Marquess Pherae’s son as well, then he would rise within Bern’s favor. That was the thought in his mind when Roy and his allies appeared unexpectedly, and he lured the unsuspecting Knights of Pherae inside of the castle to ambush them.
Because Roy said he was in a hurry, Wagner led him to the rooms deeper within the castle so the boy could not leave yet.
But just a moment before Wagner had Roy in his clutches, Roy realized he was up to something, and now, nearly all of his allies had been killed.
With this turn of events, he no longer had any choice but to flee.
The moment he finally found the door he was searching for, he breathed a sigh of relief and slammed it open.
But as he did so, an arrow grazed his right cheek.
“I will not let you escape. You are my enemy!” Bathed and glowing in the moonlight was Sue, granddaughter of the Silver Wolf, riding atop her horse.
The moment she received a bow from Roy, she decided without hesitation to rush ahead of his army. Now that the situation had shifted out of his favor, the man would run. She was certain of that, and her prediction was exactly right.
“I’m the one who won’t be letting you escape! Even if I hand just you over to Ber-” He started to say as he reached into his breast pocket for his dark magic tome. But Sue moved faster, and shot another arrow that pierced his right hand.
“Guahhhhhhh!” He wailed as he clutched his wounded hand and crouched to the ground.
She looked down at him coldly. “You killed your lord. The man who saved my life. Accept your punishment!”
“P-Please wait! Bern forced my hand! There was nothing I could do…!” He rambled on instinct in an attempt to make her feel pity for him. He begged on both knees, seeming to have completely forgotten all about the pain in his hand.
But his plea was all for naught. It only made the anger she felt towards him burn ever hotter.
“I never want to hear your voice again.” Sue pulled her bowstring as far back as she could, and released it.
The killing blow shot straight through Wagner’s windpipe. He could not even scream as he died.
A cold night wind blew past her. It had been so long since she last felt the wind, nothing else could compare.
ー
Marquess Orun of Thria was Hector’s cousin, and known as a great person for his kindness and sincerity.
Deciding that he was someone they could trust, Roy decided to rest his army in his castle, but their visit resulted in the worst ending they could have imagined.
Wagner, Orun’s advisor, stubbornly refused to allow them to meet with Orun, making Roy distrust him. Roy said that if he could not meet with Orun, then there was no reason for him to stay, and tried to leave. But when he did so, Wagner revealed his true colors, and attacked Roy and his army.
After the battle was over, Roy met with Sue once again in another room in the castle, where she explained who she was.
“...So you are the granddaughter of a tribal leader in Sacae…”
“My grandfather is the strongest person in all of Sacae. Everyone calls him the ‘Silver Wolf.’”
“The ‘Silver Wolf?’ I have heard that name before. But why are you in Lycia? The Sacae plains are very far east of here.” Sue explained the details of everything that had happened to her so far.
She explained that the Kutolah tribe lost their battle against Bern, and everyone ended up scattered in different directions. Then, the women and children were massacred by the traitorous Djute tribe, and only she had managed to escape this far…
“The lord of Thria, Marquess Orun, kindly took me in and provided refuge for me, but then his advisor Wagner assassinated him and took control of this castle. That was also when I…”
“...was captured…” Roy finished her sentence.
“Is your army fighting Bern?” Now it was Sue’s turn to ask a question.
“Yes. Bern attacked our home as well.”
“Then allow me to fight with you. Fighting Bern will help my grandfather and the others of my tribe. And I want to kill the enemies of Marquess Orun. He was so kind to me.”
“We are going to Ostia. It is in the opposite direction of Sacae. Is that okay with you?”
“I do not mind. Wherever I am, Mother Earth will not leave this land, and Father Sky will not vanish.” She said with a smile, as a brave girl of Sacae.
ー
The night of their intense battle against Wagner ended, and now, it was the next day.
The Knights of Pherae were able to rest their bodies for one night in the castle, then immediately began preparations to march. Ostia was within arm’s reach. It would not be much longer until they combined forces with the Lycian League’s army.
Roy was standing at the front gate, suppressing his feelings of excitement as he gave his orders, when he received an urgent message.
“Emergency, Lord Roy!! Our messenger to Ostia just returned, but he said that a rebellion has begun in Ostia!!”
“What did you just say?!” Roy gasped in surprise as the person delivering the report, Alen, came into his field of vision.
The cavalier still had on his full suit of crimson red armor. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and continued, “It was started by the faction that has decided to surrender to Bern, and cannot be swayed…”
“And is Lilina safe?” She was who he was most worried about.
They’d first met when they were still just small children. Though she was a bit shy, she immediately opened up to him. Because he was a good-natured soul but a bit too easygoing, as they grew closer, she became like a big sister who helped take care of him. It never once bothered him. On the contrary, he was happy to have finally made his first friend with a girl close to him in age that he could always rely on. They studied their very hardest together when they were studying abroad in Ostia.
He was visibly shaking right now.
Alen responded, “I was told that she was captured. The rebel army has currently taken control over Ostia Castle, and have fought multiple intense battles with the soldiers trying to rescue her!”
Roy found a sliver of hope in Alen’s words, and ordered his entire army to deploy.
Hector asked that he be the one to protect her, but even not for that, he knew he would have done anything to save her.
Such was the hold she had on his heart.
The cavaliers all prepared their horses, then swiftly jumped atop them; and the foot soldiers all immediately got into formation. The transport unit filled their carriages with rations, daily necessities, and spare weapons as quickly as they could.
With their rushed preparations complete, Roy and his army hurried to Ostia.
☆
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