“Wait, please wait a moment!” Arienne frantically put the clothes she had scattered on the floor back on, clothes she hadn’t washed throughout her journey. Her body and hair were also filthy. How could she meet royalty in such a state?
But it wasn’t as if she could do laundry while the princess stood waiting at the door.
Arienne opened it.
In her imagination, the princess had been a woman in her twenties and worn shining armor and a crown. The woman who stood before her was older, perhaps late thirties, with a serious yet kind face. A red eyepatch covered one of her eyes. Her hair was cut neatly, and she had a sword slung on her belt. She wore worn leather armor. Like the imagined princess she had her clan markings on the neck, but none of the patterns resembled the royal dragon design. Arienne touched her own tattoos.
Loran smiled awkwardly as she entered the room and sat down at a table by the windows. Arienne also sat down, across from her.
“I hear you’re an Arlander from the Capital.”
“I am.” It felt less like an audience with a princess and more like a talk with one of her younger professors at the Academy. Arienne knew nothing of royalty except for what she had read in books.
“And that you’re a sorcerer.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t find anything to say except to answer questions.
“How do you find your homeland after all this time?” She seemed genuinely curious.
“I don’t really remember what it was like.”
“You haven’t reunited with your family yet. Maybe it’ll seem more real to you when you do.”
“I don’t… think I’ll see them.”
Loran looked a little taken aback, but a sadness settled on her features.
“I see. I’m sure you have your reasons.”
There was a brief silence.
“I hear you’re fighting the Empire,” ventured Arienne.
Loran raised her eyebrows. Arienne was inwardly aghast; had she made a mistake? But Loran’s expression returned to normal as she spoke.
“I am.”
“Will you win?”
Loran turned her gaze toward the window.
“They say a legion of the Empire numbers ten thousand soldiers, but it is smaller than that. More like six thousand, including noncombatants. On top of that, a small part of the Twenty-Fifth Legion is divided between Ledon, Kamori, and Arland, and the bulk of their forces are coming by sea. In terms of pure numbers, they are not an insurmountable foe. And every day, we have men and women coming to this fortress, pledging themselves to the cause. You may have also noticed our Ledonite allies camped outside. However…”
“Yes?”
Loran turned to Arienne and looked her in the eye. Her gaze was so firm it made Arienne uncomfortable.
“It’s the Powered weapons that are the real problem. Especially the gigatherion.”
Arienne had once seen two gigatherions, on a parade day in the Capital. They had been too large to fit inside the city, and instead stood at the outskirts like massive sculptures. One was ahuman-shaped giant that looked like it could touch the sky, the other took the form of a four-legged beast.
“The Twenty-Fifth Legion,” continued Loran, “has a gigatherion named Clarios. It is being shipped here as we speak. I wonder if it’s made it to the shores of Ledon by now.”
“Then it’ll be here soon.”
“That is so. Which is why I wish to ask… Would it be possible for you to help us?”
Fear rose in Arienne. It wasn’t the call to arms that frightened her but the prospect that in the end, she would have nothing to offer.
