Chapter Sixty-Eight: Made In The Empress’s Image

    Amelia activated her magic.

    Passion, kindness, and love erupted from her. Using so much power caused her to experience an exhilarating release as her aether burned away the slums'' unhappiness and sorrow. Her magic was a bubble of hope expanding outwards, fending off this place''s oppressive darkness. The atmosphere hummed with her aether, somehow sounding happy. It was as if the world itself was satisfied with the meal of aether Amelia had cooked up.

    Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she squeezed Kiku. She could feel the young girl’s body mending under her loving light. Her frail body was strengthening, and so were the bodies of the poor, skinny children who were hugging the pair of them.

    From the height of her spell’s intensity, it took time for things to calm down. Her healing magic diffused slowly throughout the atmosphere, like a lingering musical note fading into silence. Amelia had cast a magical symphony, and her expectations of a thunderous applause were not disappointed as she pulled away from Kiku. However, instead of an audience of Eastern Lords, she had a gaggle of agitated children.

    “That was amazing!”

    “I don’t feel hungry anymore!”

    “Look! My scars have gone!”

    “Kiku! Kiku! How do you feel!?”

    “Give her space!” Amelia waved the excited children back. She stood up, wiping tears of happiness from her face. She held a hand out to Kiku. Only then did she see that Kiku, the chair she sat on, and the rest of the room were spotless! She must have somehow integrated her cleaning magic into Divine Healing of Aseco’s formation! How? It must have been instinctual, right? All she did was pour all her emotion into her aether and let it do its thing!

    This wasn’t a problem, was it?

    Kiku took her hand and stood up. With a nervous smile, the girl took one step. Then another. Then another. Kiku paced the length of the room once, then twice, and then, while laughing happily, skipped and jumped into the air. “I don’t feel any exhaustion!” Kiku exclaimed, spreading her arms wide. It was as if she were announcing her cured condition to the world. “It’s... it’s...” Kiku ran and embraced Amelia. “Thank you, oh thank you. Amelia! No! Saint Amelia! You’re a Saint! You’ve healed me! Oh, may the moons bless you!”

    “You’re welcome!” Amelia hugged her back. She was so happy to see she could change someone''s life like this! This was what she should be doing more of! If she knew how bad this place was, she would have been more forceful about the matter with Greatlord Oshiro! She would have just done it! It was wrong to have such potential and power to help so many people and not use it... right?

    “Even the room...” Amelia heard Serena mutter.

    Amelia broke away from Kiku for a second time. The moment she did, the children threw themselves at the girl. Poking and prodding both their bodies and hers, asking her for the tenth time if she still felt strong.

    “He must have expected this, don’t you think?” Amelia bounced up to Serena, grinning wildly. “How can he not have!? He knows what I’m like!”

    “Sure...” Serena shook her head. “But this... powerful? He must have-”

    Serena was cut short by the sound of an air siren. Its long, droning undulations filled the air, causing even the celebrating children to pause.

    “That’s the response to... you,” Serena sighed. “I would say I was getting a headache but you just healed it away! Tsk!” Her girlfriend clicked her tongue but obviously wasn’t annoyed as she ruffled Amelia’s hair.

    “Hey!” Amelia protested. Still smiling, she began to fix her hair while looking around. Perhaps someone would come, just like how the Greatlord of Kenhoro appeared after their fight in the city? Greatlord Oshiro wouldn’t be mad at her, would he? Amelia stretched her senses, even looking into the Shimmer; the lingering atmospheric aether made it surprisingly easy for her. When she looked around, she jumped.

    There, in the doorway, was the scary-but-not-actually-scary Lord Guardian!

    Her mint tea-loving friend!

    He was standing in the Shimmer, invisible to Serena and the others. He said something to her, but she couldn’t hear it. She shrugged, and he then pointed to her and Serena, gesturing to the hallway. His movements were strange, as if he were experiencing a faster flow of time. Chesterfield mentioned a time difference, hadn’t he? What was it he said? A minute in the Shimmer was thirty seconds outside. Did that mean, to the Lord Guardian, he was seeing her move in slow motion?

    “He’s waiting for us!” Amelia chirped, pulling Serena’s arm.

    “Who?”

    “The Lord Guardian!”

    At her words, Serena’s eyes widened. Honestly, he wasn’t that scary! Couldn’t they sense his good heart and caring spirit? She knew etiquette was important to the Eastern Lords, but sometimes they should lighten up a little! How many friendships were they missing out on because of the boundaries they enforced between themselves!?

    Amelia led Serena to the hallway, shutting the door behind her. As she did, the Lord Guardian appeared from within the Shimmer before them, his figure dominating the hallway with his horns barely missing the ceiling.

    Serena immediately fell to one knee. “My will is your will,” she uttered quickly.

    Amelia followed suit. The action felt overly submissive to her, but she couldn’t ignore how powerful the Lord Guardian was, so some level of respect was warranted. She still couldn’t see souls that clearly; they were murky, and their outlines faint and, well, shimmering. However, the Lord Guardian’s soul shone larger and brighter than Lunaria’s!

    This man was undoubtedly a Speaker of at least one Second-Word.

    The Empress must have tremendous power to command a group of these Lord Guardians! She thought there must be limitations on their actions because the war would surely have ended long ago if they’d been mobilised.

    “Lords, rise,” the Lord Guardian spoke, his voice low and clear. They both straightened. As Amelia examined the Lord Guardian further, she noticed his scarred face was... still scarred. Was he out of range when she cast her healing spell? Or did her magic not work well enough in the Shimmer? Perhaps he avoided it somehow. If Amelia’s hidden theory was correct, then he chose to keep his scars. Maybe he was proud of them? Possibly he saw them in a similar manner to how Serena saw her bronze eagle - a physical symbol of their achievements and record of their duties.

    Amelia also noticed a faint smell of blood lingering on the demon. It wasn’t there before. Had he been fighting someone recently? In between the time of their last meeting and this one? Who had he fought with, and why?

    “I thought you said you were returning to your original duties,” Amelia blurted out before hastily adding, “Lord Guardian” as Serena tensed beside her. Oops, was she supposed to wait for him to talk first? She was, wasn’t she? The Lord Guardian frowned but thankfully didn’t seem angry.

    “I did. Now, your antics are my current duties.”

    “Oh,” Amelia mumbled. “I’m not in trouble, am I? It’s really not my fault!” she protested. “It’s the fault of whoever let the slums become like this, you know!? Have you seen the condition of the people here? It’s terrible! That... Noburu was right! People are barely surviving! Everyone’s so thin! There’s no law and order! I-” She was cut off by the Lord Guardian raising a palm.

    He looked at her for a long moment, then looked to his left as if thinking. “Your personality...” he quietly said, as if talking to himself. “It’s as if...”  He was silent for a few more seconds before mumbling one more word.

    “...Sisters...”

    He suddenly shook his large head. “I’ve made a decision,” he said. “Return to the academy and continue as you have. Greatlord Oshiro is aware of your actions today. He will give you further guidance. Also...” he gestured with his head towards the front door. “Drop your spellwork on those outside. I will take them into custody. Understand?”

    “Yes, Lord Guardian,” Serena intoned.

    “Yes! Lord Guardian!” Amelia echoed, ending her Kanaxai sleeping spells. She knew she should take an attitude of deference to the Lord Guardian, but she couldn’t help but ask, “What about the children? I can’t-”

    “The children will be protected. An Imperial tracker will find the other two. Do not worry your troubled heart, Lord-Prospect Thornheart.” The man’s piercing gaze lingered on Amelia. It wasn’t a look of friendliness like she would experience from Tomes or Dagon, but it also wasn’t the harsh, imposing stare of hostile intimidation. “Did you observe closely before?” he suddenly asked. “You won’t be able to use that man’s method. His blessing allows him to access the Shimmer in an alternative way. You should aim to copy me instead.”

    Amelia blinked. “Umm, I looked, but I still don’t understand exactly what I’m looking for!” She had tried to see how the Lord Guardian moved into the Shimmer, and she expected an ‘ah ha!’ moment after observing him, but she struggled to find anything obvious!

    “Hmm...” He thought for a moment. “Focus on your shadow.”

    “M-my shadow?” Amelia spluttered. Of all the advice she thought she might get, that was leagues away from what she thought it could be! What did her shadow have to do with anything!?

    “Thanks,” Amelia smiled.

    Ah, her girlfriend was so dependable and accepting, wasn’t she?

    “Although...” Serena raised an eyebrow. “Your tab is building up.”

    “My tab?”

    “That’s right.” Serena nodded as if she were talking about the most serious of matters. “The tab of cheek-pulling and hair-ruffling you’ll be subject to next time we’re alone.”

    “O-okay!” Amelia spluttered, trying to hide her delight.

    After all, this meant Serena was going to reward her, didn’t it!?

    Such a dependable, accepting, and loving girlfriend!

    She was the luckiest human alive!

    “We’ll talk later. I’ll come and find you,” Oshiro instructed Highlord Yasuda.

    “Greatlord,” the highlord intoned. The man bowed deeply before leaving the office.

    After the door closed, a long silence developed. Highlord Yasuda’s report sat fresh in his mind, with Oshiro carefully considering his options. He ruminated for several minutes until the light clinking of a tea cup brought him out of his thoughts.

    “What’s your decision?” Chesterfield asked. The man was relaxed, and why wouldn’t he be? The action undertaken by Amelia Thornheart was precisely as he’d predicted.

    “It’s not something we can hide,” Oshiro answered, his voice even. “Too large of an event around too many horns. We managed to limit the spread of the Sakamoto incident because it happened in the Wilderness during storm season. But this?” He clenched his hands together. “We have to ride this storm.”

    “Mmm,” Chesterfield hummed. “She is like a storm, isn’t she?”

    “When will the Demon Church make their announcement?” He asked, ignoring the casual remark.

    “There are still some bighorns resistant to the idea of canonising a human,” Chesterfield explained with a sigh. “But the Imperial pressure we’re putting on them is only increasing. This event will give us the leverage we need. It’s also good timing; the incoming moonrain will keep people distracted. The extra time will allow the problematic Lords to untwist their horns.”

    Ah yes. The problematic Lords. Despite the fact she was entitled as a Speaker, Thornheart becoming a Lord-Prospect caused discomfort amongst many of her peers. Now, she would cause even more ripples from this mass-healing event. The only saving grace was she healed the bottom rung of society. At least the Far East couldn’t claim their peers were hoarding the human’s capability for themselves.

    “I’m surprised,” Chesterfield continued. “That you’re letting Highlord Yasuda take credit for this scheme. Normally, something of this magnitude would fall upon your shoulders, Greatlord.”

    “We’ll use the celebratory nature of this event to cover up Lord Kanamori’s punishment. His corruption is embarrassing for Highlord Yasuda, and his embarrassment is my embarrassment.” He gave Chesterfield a hard stare. “I will not let the blame fall on him. I will shield him from any naysayers.”

    “Generous,” intoned Chesterfield, taking a sip from his cup. “And who will replace this fallen Lord? The Asamaywa Station is the busiest part of the Eastern rail network. It needs Imperial oversight.”

    Oshiro grumbled his agreement. “I’m considering giving it to Highlord Corvus.”

    “Oh?” Chesterfield’s eyebrow rose, his mouth curling into an amused smile. “Now they will say the Dragon is even more ambitious.”

    Oshiro scoffed. “Of course he is. War brings out ambitious men. I didn’t become Greatlord by sitting down and tapping my horns!” He reached across his desk and refilled his cup. “The station will appease him, and with this conflict ending soon, his ambition will temper.”

    Highlord Corvus was a valuable man, earning both the title of Highlord and the rank of Rear-Admiral in the last eight years. He should be well-satiated with managing one of the most important territories in the East. And if he wasn’t... well, there was a limit to how fast and quickly one would be allowed to rise.

    They both sat in silence, drinking their tea. The honey fragrance filled the room, settling Oshiro’s mind. Eventually, feeling the time was right, he asked his old friend something that had been on his mind for a long time.

    “How is she so powerful?”

    Chesterfield didn’t answer immediately, taking his time to delicately place his teacup on its saucer. “How powerful do you think she is, anyway?” he asked.

    “She... feels like Vikram,” he answered frankly. “But I cannot understand how it’s possible. She is too young to have communed so many Words. Against her newly-achieved aura, I am confident. But her magic?” Oshiro tapped the desk. “I fear I may be embarrassed.”

    The question of Amelia Thornheart had been on his mind ever since the meal. The woman was undeniably friendly and of no threat to demonkind, but her amenable personality did not satisfy the question of her power. She wasn’t lying about her age. He’d met energetic mages who kept a youthful appearance with their Kanaxai glamours, but he could always detect the underlying wisdom of their actual age.

    Not with Lord-Prospect Thornheart. The woman was truly in her mid-twenties with all the youthful eagerness and naivety that often came with it.

    “I thought she was the Empress,” he admitted, prompting Chesterfield to laugh softly. “In disguise, of course,” he added. “She looks terribly similar to her, doesn’t she? If you put the right pair of Cerulean horns on her, she might even trick a few people, especially if she goes around healing people!”

    “We’re aware of the similarity,” Chesterfield answered, his voice even. “A happy coincidence, that’s all. If anything, it’ll make it easier for the Demon Church to name her as a saint. Made in the Empress’s image, and all that...” He trailed off, shrugging lightly before resuming drinking his tea.

    Was that a lie? Oshiro thought. Was it really a coincidence? His old friend was almost impossible to read now, especially after the man received his blessing. He couldn’t help but suspect that below everything, beyond the games of politics and lords, there was a deep underlying connection between Amelia Thornheart and the Empress.

    Now, it seemed, was not the time to bring it into the cold moonlight.

    “The other girl,” he said, changing the subject. “Seonmi San. Are you confident she’ll stay under control?” He valued Serena Halen enormously and didn’t want to see trouble come to her because they forced unneeded dangers upon her crew. The addition of the mistwalker Noburu had a purpose, but Seonmi was more for their own end: to weaken the influence of the Far Eastern Lords now quietly whispering of rebellion.

    “We’ve made her understand that regaining her House is contingent on impressing Captain Halen,” he placed his teacup down, blinking twice at Oshiro. “Or will that be Commodore Halen?”

    “Are you unhappy about my recommendation?” Oshiro asked.

    “Not at all. It’s something we envisioned happening in the future. If Captain Halen can achieve so much with one ship, imagine the results she’ll manage in the next war as Commodore Halen, with an entire squadron of ships.” Chesterfield looked to the side momentarily. “Although I wish you’d notified us first. She’s working for Intelligence now, remember.”

    “I have no obligation to do so,” Oshiro pointed out. Imperial influence had grown dramatically over the Terra Firmas in the last eight years of conflict. As the Empress enacted more and more wartime powers, the Lords of the Empire found their autonomy shrinking by the year. Many, including himself, were looking forward to the end of it all.

    The words Chesterfield said ran through his mind once again.

    The next war, the man had said.

    Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, or perhaps it was intentional. Either way, it was strangely reassuring that his old friend, with the power he held, was as pessimistic as he was regarding the prospect of a long peace.

    May the Empress protect them all.

    And the moons fall upon her enemies.