Sanguine Prince | Chapter 30: House Rubastra (Second Draft)

Arcturus stared at the armor on its rack within his walk-in closet, arms folded as he contemplated the gear. At his request, and with Tylariel’s instructions, the armor had been couriered from Luthaire’s showroom directly to the Rubastra Estate and had been waiting for him when he’d explored the expansive room he’d been given—though perhaps rooms were a better description. His quarters consisted of a living area one might find within any middle-class home on Earth, and an attached bedroom with a king-sized four-poster bed.

His bathroom was en-suite to his bedroom, and the walk-in closet was on the opposite wall from the bathroom. He even had a comfortably sized office and meditation space offshoots from his main living area, though both were largely irrelevant to him in the immediate.

There was no kitchen, though he’d been prepared for that, given the fact that the staff handled any and all food requests, no matter the time of day or night.

After settling in, bathing, and then dressing in the clothes he’d been given—a black shirt and leggings which both clung tightly to his body, though without discomfort—to wear beneath his armor. Arcturus then found himself stymied as he stared at the perplexing set of onyx plates. While the dominant style definitely evoked thoughts of Greek Corinthian or Spartan armor, the epaulets were decidedly Roman in their layered design, and the cuisses and gauntlets were fundamentally Frankish or Anglo-Saxon.

Something about the armor nagged at Arcturus, from the way it seemed both menacing and innocuous at the same time, to the very deliberately placed rubies in each piece. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but instinct told him there was far more to the ancient set of Aetherforged steel than he was grasping.

“What the hell are you hiding?” he muttered to himself as he stepped closer to the wooden armor rack, reaching out to brush his fingers along the gleaming onyx breastplate. He felt the smoothness of the steel under his fingers as he caressed it, and marveled at the elegance of the metalworking in how consistent the design of the pieces was.

It wasn’t until he cautiously touched his fingers to the ruby socketed in the middle of the upper breastplate that something happened: A spark or surge of momentary resonance that made him snatch his hand back in surprise. Heart racing, Arcturus glanced back outside of his closet as if someone might discover him doing something wrong, despite the fact that the very idea of there being ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ in the immediate situation was ludicrous.

Playing with mysterious, forbidding armor was definitely not a problem.

Keep telling yourself that when you invert your organs, bucko.

“I was being sarcastic.” He muttered to himself.

I wasn’t.

Arcturus reached out again cautiously and, after a moment more of hesitation, touched his fingers to the breastplate ruby. When the surge of energy happened, he forced himself to keep his hand connected, and he felt something react within the jewel. A jumble of information he couldn’t begin to parse lanced through his mind, as if the System were trying to tell him something—only for it to be distorted to the point of incomprehensibility. He grit his teeth against the instant headache that formed from the ‘malfunction’ and nearly pulled his hand away again.

Only sheer stubborn curiosity kept him connected to the gem long enough for the corrupted information to resolve itself into a single notification hovering—to his eyes—above the breastplate.

Do you wish to claim [Armor of the S̸̡̙͎̒̈́̑̇͠ͅ@̵͚̞͓͐̎̂͛͐/̵̭̓̎̊͋|̸̛̺̈́̏̈͘/̴̯̫̉̈́g̷͖̱̦̎̀͐͘͝ų̴̬̃͒̇1̷̟͒̓̒̐̈́n̸̢̘̘̠̗̞̎͊3̷̺͈͔͚̜̙̋̀͗̃ ̴̨̰̮͈͈͈̅͊̈́L̶̩̎̆͌0̶͓̻̹̭͋̏̈́6̴̜̂̎̈̀͘͝d̶̮̈́̂̌̈́̚͝ (Mythic)] for yourself?

Arcturus hesitated. He’d bought the armor, and he’d certainly done something no one else clearly had. However, he understood nothing of what he’d accomplished, why he’d accomplished it, and whether or not it was somehow a trap he’d regret triggering later. Caution about the unknown realities of Terra warred with his intrigue and curiosity, and eventually the latter won out.

Your recklessness is going to get us both killed one day.

His subconscious was probably right. At that moment, though, it didn’t matter.

Arcturus hit the floating ‘YES’ button and waited for something to happen. When nothing did, he frowned in consternation and reached out to touch the gem again. No spark, no surge of power; nothing. A faint feeling of warmth was the extent of the reaction, and even then, it was minute in comparison to what had come before. Annoyance replaced curiosity, and Arcturus sighed at his own vain hopes.

“Of course, it was an anticlimax. Why am I surprised?”

On a whim, he cast his [Inspect] skill on the armor again.

INFORMATION PANEL

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Armor of the Veiled Prince

Slot(s): Head, Chest (Multiple), Arms (Multiple), Hands, Legs (Multiple), Feet

Type(s): Enchanted, Restricted

Rarity: Mythic

Classification(s): Armor (Full Body)

Statistic(s):

+5 to ??? (Restricted)

+5 to ??? (Restricted)

+5 to ??? (Restricted)

+5 to É̶͕͉̌ṙ̴̡̛r̵͉̂̃ŏ̵̳͖̓r̶̼̖͛̀(Restricted)

Modification(s): É̶͕͉̌ṙ̴̡̛r̵͉̂̃ŏ̵̳͖̓r̶̼̖͛̀

Description:

Recovered from an unknown ruin in the Blighted Lands and restored, mostly, by the careful efforts of Luthaire Gildedhammer: This set of forbidding armor holds a hidden power that has been frustratingly inaccessible.

Whatever boons are hidden behind the esoteric locks placed upon its use, no one has been able to decipher the secrets required to unlock its full and terrible potential.

Soulbond(s): Arcturus Regis Valoura

Synergy: 0% / 100%

Durability: 1,500 / 1,500

“Armor of the Veiled Prince...” he said out loud as he read the changes to the armor's name. “Well, that’s literal.”

Stop talking to yourself and get moving, Jackass. You’re going to be late.

Arcturus ignored his subconscious, noting that the voice had been growing more and more active and self-aware since his transition to Terra. Could there be something there that merited concern?

[Perception Check unsuccessful!]

[Intellect Check unsuccessful!]

[Willpower Check unsuccessful!]

No, probably not. His awareness of the notifications slid away like they were slicked in oil, and in the same moment as they appeared, he’d forgotten about them. Some small part of him might have been alarmed by that, but if he were, Arcturus couldn’t tell. As far as he was concerned, the alerts may as well have never happened.

“Time to get to it.”

Thankful no one was around to question his sanity as he talked to himself—though really, who didn’t sometimes?—in the privacy of his closet, Arcturus set to the task of donning his extremely expensive armor. He felt gratitude for his choice of studies as he navigated calmly through the proper steps of equipping the armor. He strapped on the cuisses and vambraces first, making sure they were buckled properly to his thighs and forearms, respectively, before moving on to the sabatons and then his breastplate.

Cinching his torso armor was the most irritating part of the entire process, but once he’d managed it, he wiggled around a little and pushed at it from different angles with his hands to make sure it was both comfortable and sturdy on his chest. Thankfully, the armor was only slightly too large for him—a fact that could be compensated for later, when he had the time to visit Luthaire. Finally, he latched on a simple arming belt below the leather straps of his breastplate’s roman-style skirting, wiggling his hips to make sure he hadn’t compromised his movement.

He carefully moved each of his limbs after that to ensure range of motion across his body, and then, satisfied, he picked up the helmet from where it sat atop the armor stand. His eyes roamed the dull, black surface of the helm before he tucked it under his left arm and exited the walk-in closet. Perdition was collected from where he’d left it under his pillow and clipped to his arming belt by the clasp he’d attached to the bottom of the grip, which itself had since been wrapped in black leather.

Arcturus left his rooms a moment later and shut the door behind him, glancing around in momentary confusion before remembering that he was in the East wing of the Rubastra mansion, on the third floor. That meant that he needed to go West and down to the second-floor training facilities. Trusting his HUD compass to guide him, he set off, keeping a wary eye on his zoomed-in mini-map so as not to lose himself in the winding, tapestry-and-portrait-filled corridors of the villa.

Maids were everywhere as he walked, curtseying or smiling at him as he passed, while they cleaned, chatted, and generally went about the business of maintaining the colossal estate. More than once, he was offered help to find his way, and he quickly declined after the memory of the earlier conversation with Vivienne and Tylariel surfaced in his mind.

“Hello again, Your Highness.”

[Willpower Check successful!]

Arcturus paused with far more grace than his surprise might have normally allowed and turned, smiling politely at the beautiful Estate Mistress as she damn near glided down the corridor towards him. She’d changed into a particularly flattering white ascot blouse, paired with a black, shin-length skirt for the new day, giving her a professional mien without compromising or downplaying her natural beauty. Her blonde bun of hair was less tightly wound as well, he noticed, with strands of gold spilling out of it in a curiously endearing way. It still amazed him that a woman who looked barely out of her twenties could run an entire Estate.

[Willpower Check successful!]

Arcturus snapped himself out of the process of silently admiring the buxom Head of Staff and instead put on his best ‘corporate heir’ smile; the same one he’d often used with his father’s friends and business associates.

“Hello again, Mistress Dubois. I hope you’ve not had a taxing day due to our arrival.”

“Not at all, Your Highness. Things rarely go awry in the Rubastra Estate, and when they do, they are easily corrected.”

Her smile was polite enough, but her proximity belied her interest as she examined him from behind her half-moon spectacles. “I assume you’re enroute to meet with the Lady for your Commencement?”

“Yes,” Arcturus said, thankful for the obligation. “I was just enjoying the walk and admiring the hallways.”

“They are rather stunning, aren’t they?” she agreed as she glanced at the artwork and plinth-resting marble busts nearby. “I thought perhaps you’d like some company on your way.”

Arcturus swallowed as she spoke and focused on looking at her eyes and nowhere else.

“That would be fine, Mistress Dubois. I wouldn’t want to accidentally get lost and keep my Mentor waiting too long.”

They set off again together, this time with Vivienne keeping a respectful half-step back but maintaining pace with him, her hands clasped together calmly in front of her as they walked.

“I understand your arrival on Terra was not what one might call pleasant, Your Highness. I hope you’ve had time to properly assess and come to terms with any lingering stress or emotional upheaval that might have caused.”

Arcturus raised an eyebrow at Vivienne after she finished, surprised at the boldness of her statement. Well, perhaps not that surprised.

“I wouldn’t say I’ve come to terms with all of it,” he responded candidly while tapping the fingers of his left hand against the metal of his held helmet. “Though I can say I’m more accepting of the reality, to a degree. I’ve been on the Source for a week, but realistically, I’ve only been conscious for about three days of it. I’ve gone, in my perspective, from waking up naked in the woods to wearing full armor in a massive Noble’s Estate in the span of three sunsets.”

“That must be a lot,” Vivienne replied.

“It’s… Yeah, it’s a lot,” Arcturus agreed as they turned to descend a set of stairs. “Tylariel’s sister was the first major point of sanity I found in the world, though there was a barmaid in the Foxy Princess who also showed me kindness after I was taken there following the events of my arrival.”

“Lady Alyerial has always been a kind soul.”

“She is kind,” Arcturus agreed. “It’s still bewildering to me that she was so ready to give me shelter, and that I trusted her so implicitly. I think it was a mix of instinct, desperation, and a natural inability to think of women as threats the same way I do men. A product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“You will need to correct that, I think,” Vivienne advised gently. “There is no distinction in danger here when it comes to one’s gender. Both are equally capable of doing you harm.”

“I know,” Arcturus agreed. “I’ve known that, really. I was killed on my original shard by a woman.”

“I am sorry,” she said softly.

“It is what it is.” He said with a shrug. “I’m here now. My only real regret is not being able to speak with my parents, but I’m sure I can find a way to do that eventually.”

“You refer to Prince Titus and your mother?”

“Yeah. I wonder how she’d react to all this… to knowing who, and what, my Dad really is…”

“Does she love him?”

Arcturus blinked at the question, then laughed. “Far more than he deserves at times, according to both of them.”

“Then it won’t matter. Love, true love, is a powerful thing, Your Highness. It can overcome even the direst of revelations. I have no doubt your Lady Mother would be proud of her husband, and of the man her son seems prepared to become.”

“Pardon?” Arcturus asked when she finished.

“I noticed you didn’t ask why no one here is hiding your title or identity,” she said instead of clarifying.

“It was Tylariel’s order to keep it hidden, so logically she must have a good reason for not extending that order to the staff. I just assumed there was some sort of oath or geas at play that bound you all to secrecy.”

Vivienne’s lack of reply drew his attention, and he looked at her only to find her staring at him with her intense, assessing blue eyes. Her gaze was striking.

[Perception Check unsuccessful!]

“Mistress Dubois?” he asked carefully. “Is something the matter?”

Vivienne blinked at him and then looked away with a shake of her head. “No, Your Highness. I was just surprised by your accurate deduction.”

“I don’t think it should be too surprising given the logic involved,” Arcturus said with a smile.

“You are quite humble for one born into such a powerful bloodline.”

“My heritage doesn’t mean much if I’m disconnected from it.”

“So you consider yourself no different from anyone else?” she enquired.

“Moreso, I just don’t think of myself as overly special,” Arcturus clarified. “I’m just a man trying to make sense of his situation. In many ways, I feel as if the metric for maturity here has relegated me partially back to boyhood. I don’t grasp things that Terran children consider basic knowledge, while subsequently holding onto concepts that most would find obsolete or downright ignorant.”

“Your shard has left a strong impression on you.”

“It was the only reality I ever knew,” he said simply.

The rest of their walk was done in silence as Arcturus ruminated on his experiences since coming to Terra, and Vivienne seemingly contented herself with staying in his company and casually observing him from time to time. It was difficult to discern the woman’s angle, as she seemed to have a deeper interest in him than a purely physical one, and yet looked at him, at times, like he was a meal she wished to devour.

She was beautiful enough to be distracting, and impressively intelligent as well.

It was a dangerous combination for a young man, and Arcturus was cautious not to let himself appreciate her physical attributes for any length of time.

When they at last arrived at his destination, he was greeted by the sight of an open pair of double doors marked with glowing blue runes. His brow furrowed, and his Aethersmithing skill kicked in, allowing him to immediately recognize that he was looking at an Infusion-based creation which held several powerful ensorcellments. What those were in exactness, however, he was hopelessly too low-levelled to discern.

“I believe the Archon is waiting for you inside, Arcturus.”

He turned to look at Vivienne in surprise when she used his name, his crimson eyes meeting hers and finding them impossible to read. Her expression was one of perfect professionalism, but there was something in the way she said his name, like she was partaking in a mischievous secret. It set his heart racing.

“Thank you, Vivienne,” he said after a moment of thought. “I think I’ll require another bath after I’m done, if you could arrange that.”

“I’ll see to it personally,” she assured him with a smile that made his cheeks warm, before heading off with gliding grace.

You’re playing with fire there, dumbass.

Arcturus ignored his subconscious. It was just a little harmless flirting. He wasn’t about to take it further. Besides, he was certain that the Estate Mistress wasn’t about to try to seduce him, no matter the implications.

Well… Relatively certain.

How fast that pretty blonde made you forget all about Amélie.

And just like that, his burgeoning good mood was ruined, and he turned to enter the training room with a scowl on his features. It had been a low blow, and one that was wholly inaccurate. His feelings for Amélie weren’t downgraded or mitigated simply because he was enjoying the attention of someone else. He certainly had no intention of engaging in any sort of illicit activity with Vivienne. It was an utterly ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous statement for his subconscious to make. It was preposterous. His feelings were genuine, not some fluttery non-factor that could be overlooked by the first pretty face he saw.

Damn it, he’d destroyed himself trying to save her! He had not forgotten that.

Then why do you feel so guilty?