Sanguine Prince | Chapter 29: A Difference in Power (Second Draft)

Arcturus looked at the granite wolves ahead of them dubiously, standing still with Adam and Danica as Tylariel walked ahead of them towards the high gates that the wolves ‘guarded’.

Having concluded their business with Luthaire and now equipped with everything Arcturus needed to begin his training and growth in earnest—including the new set of armor Tylariel promised him he’d be expected to reimburse her for—as an Apprentice Archon, the next and most crucial step was to make sure that he was as ready as possible by the King’s Masquerade.

Three months of intense, focused training designed to turn him from a bewildered Secondborn into as close to a fully-fledged Terran warrior as his eclectic collection of allies could manage. He subconsciously stroked the hilt of Perdition on his belt while mulling it over. It was not going to be easy.

“When I heard House Rubastra was in the Outer Ring, I assumed it meant they’d really fallen from grace,” Adam said from Arcturus’ right. “I did not expect anything like this.”

Arcturus grunted in agreement as he looked beyond the gate to the mansion sprawled out in front of them. Forgetting the fact that the gates were wide enough to comfortably fit two eighteen-wheelers side by side on Earth, they were also high enough to require a five-meter ladder to reach the tips of the sharpened, spear-like bars that they were composed of. 

Beyond them, Tylariel’s palatial home was more akin to a castle than it was a house.

A sprawling construction of elegant marble columns and multistoried design, the Rubastra mansion put to shame anything that Arcturus might have imagined. Crenellations were visible along parapets projecting from the uppermost levels of the building, adjoining interspersed towers and ramparts that dominated the exterior walls of the ‘home’. At a casual estimation, Arcturus could reliably count over two dozen windows at various places across the four, perhaps five-story construction.

Look at all that bourgeois beauty.

He could see crimson-liveried soldiers with the Rubastra wolf head patrolling the grounds and walking the battlements of their home, which was increasingly resembling a combination of an eighteenth-century villa on Earth and a French castle. Sentries were in full display at various strategic points, and a glance at the high walls connected to the gate and ringing the Rubastra’s plot of land showed even more battlements.

“This has to be at least as big as the Château de Fougères!” Arcturus heard Danica exclaim. “Look at the elevation of the land and how it lifts the mansion-proper to a position of dominance, and the way the ramparts connect to the parapets along the roof. I swear there are gun ports all along those towers!”

Arcturus glanced past Adam to the gushing brunette as she near-squealed in delight at the thought of living in the Rubastra Estate, and matched Adam’s wry smile with his own as she continued.

“Oh my god, guys, this place is like an architectural marriage of Augustan Rome and Napoleonic France!”

“You realize neither of us took art history or classical architecture courses, right?” Arcturus asked with a shake of his head. “You can enjoy your culturegasm by yourself, Dani.”

“As if you aren’t impressed, mister military history," she said with a smirk. "I can see you salivating over the fortifications.”

“Apprentice!” Tylariel’s voice called as Arcturus opened his mouth to retort, stopping his response dead and calling his attention back to their location.

“Point to Danica,” Adam said with a deceptively neutral tone.

Arcturus grumbled as he led his friends to rejoin his Mentor, glancing warily at the wolf statues as they walked.

He could have sworn their granite heads shifted slightly to watch him as he passed.

“Lady Archon, may I ask how large your estate is?” Danica said the moment they rejoined the redheaded Noble. “I don’t want to be rude, but I was a student of architecture in our source-shard, and I think your home is absolutely breathtaking.”

Arcturus mentally commended Danica’s understanding of people as she spoke to Tylariel, noting how his mentor seemed to preen under the compliment. When she answered, he would’ve sworn he heard a notable change in how warm she was to Danica.

“The total land is approximated at a size of twenty hectares,” Tylariel answered.

“About forty acres,” Arcturus murmured. “That’s huge for an in-city property. Downright massive, actually.”

“The land was granted to House Rubastra in perpetuity before the Inner and Outer cities were created,” Tylariel said matter-of-factly. “The estate in the inner city is actually smaller than this, though it’s been vacated since our departure from the ranks of the High Houses.”

“The land wasn’t seized?”

“No, House Honorum wouldn’t dare go that far. Not yet. King Honoris would have taken off Leon’s head for that.”

“So you could still return to it, with the right circumstances.”

“Yes, it is only for the obeisance of social decorum that we don’t inhabit that estate any longer. It’s as much a form of protest as it is a political necessity.”

Tylariel started along the massive pathway leading from the gates to the villa itself as she spoke, forcing the three Daeva to follow her.

“Would there have been consequences had you stayed?” Danica enquired.

“Given the nature of the agreement between Honorum and Rubastra, yes. It was a witnessed honor duel that sealed our fate; failing to adhere to its conditions would have made things far, far worse for us. House Valoura has always been rigid about its code of honor, and Valarian culture has mimicked that stance throughout the millennia. We would have lost not just the benevolence of the King, but whatever support existed among the populace as well.”

“This place is incredible, though,” Arcturus said while looking around at the gardens and fountains they were passing on their way to the estate proper. “Who would dream of attacking you here?”

Anyone who did would be someone you should fear.

Well, Arcturus couldn’t disagree with that sentiment.

“We have wealth, and that guarantees that we can maintain ourselves and protect ourselves through force of arms. The fact that all our guards are oathsworn is another point in that favor,” the Archon said and sighed as she glanced around them. “However, that means less than one might think.”

“Because your wound isn’t fiscal, it’s deeper than that: it’s your reputation,” Adam ventured in his usual, insightful manner. “Your alliances, specifically. House Rubastra is powerful as a single entity, but even the greatest of single entities can be overwhelmed by a coordinated group.”

“Yes,” Tylariel agreed, giving Adam an appreciative look. “You grasp our ways well.”

“I majored in Political Science and Philosophy,” Adam said with a polite nod of thanks. “Where we’re from, there are entire classes dedicated to the analysis of similar systems from our world’s past.”

“Past, not present?” Tylariel enquired.

“Past,” Adam confirmed. “Most of our world grew into direct or representative Democracy as the governmental norm.”

“Ah, yes. I remember. The so-called Democratic Revolutions of your source-shard,” Tylariel said with a dismissive wave. “We’ve heard ignorant Daeva preach of these things before. They learn the futility in such things soon enough.”

“Futility?” Arcturus asked despite himself.

He could feel Washington turning in his grave.

“Monarchs on Terra are backed by Archons, Apprentice. Pseudo-Revolutions have been a part of the Empire’s history for thousands of years. They always end the same way.”

“Defeated?” Arcturus guessed.

“No,” Tylariel said as she glanced at him with a mirthless smile. “Annihilated.”

Arcturus didn’t need clarification to understand the brutal difference.

“What are the plans for my training moving forward, Mentor?” He asked in an effort to change the subject and smother his irritation at Tylariel’s words.

“We’ll focus on your Psionic abilities and Aetherblade skills, since those are your only recourse Aetherically.”

“What about my Aethersmithing?” Arcturus asked immediately. The crafting skill interested him greatly.

“What are you talking about?” Tylariel asked as they walked.

“I have a basic ability with Aethersmithing.”

“How quaint,” the Archon said with apparent disinterest. “We’ll organize for you to work with Alyerial when time allows. However, your focus will be on improving your fundamentals. Psionics and your Aetherblade.”

“What about my armor?” Arcturus pressed. “I’ll be trained in how to fight in it, right?”

“What use would that be?” Tylariel asked with a hint of irritation. “An Archon’s defense is their power. Why would you need—”

Her words stopped abruptly, and she cursed, reaching up to rub her temples.

“You have no elemental spellform, so you cannot create elemental armor. For all the benefits a kinetic shield might offer you, it is a pale imitation of true Aetheric defense, isn’t it?”

Arcturus wasn’t sure if she was being rhetorical, and found his answer a moment later when his Mentor continued.

“Yes, I suppose you will have to learn to fight and move in your armor. The first Archon to have to do so, to my knowledge. What a handful you’re turning out to be, Arcturus Regis.”

“I’m… sorry?” he said questioningly.

Everything is always your fault, Jackass.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s actually oddly enjoyable. I like a challenge, Apprentice, and you are quite adept at providing those for me.”

“Happy to help,” he responded sarcastically and earned himself a look of disapproval in the process.

“I will admit to a level of uncharacteristic lack of attention when it comes to your impediments, Arcturus,” the fierce redhead admitted. “I have been so engrossed in the idea of training a Valoura that I never gave an appropriate amount of thought to your actual weaknesses.”

Tylariel let loose a very human sigh and then continued.

“We have not known each other for even a full day, yet so much seems to have happened. I feel thoroughly dragged along whatever line of Fate you are walking.”

“It’s all been a little insane,” Arcturus agreed after a moment of thought for her words. “I woke up naked and alone in a forest, killed a Dire Wolf by almost giving myself an aneurysm—” he ignored Adam’s look of alarm “—and then ended up passing out and being saved by the kindness of unknown strangers, who had the charity to deliver me to an inn which also happened to have people willing to clothe a stranger.”

“Not so charitable as much as self-interested,” Tylariel corrected firmly. “You look every inch the Archon, Arcturus, and of high birth to boot. There are many superstitions about the gods and Nobles among the populace, most of which the upper class encourages for their own safety. It is quite likely that whoever rescued you did so hoping the gods would show them favor—or they hoped to avoid being smited for leaving you to your fate.”

“Actually, to that point… Where the hell was that forest?”

“Probably the outskirts of a Dungeon, in an Aether-saturation zone,” Adam answered from beside him as they walked.

“What?” Arcturus asked in surprise.

“There are several in every city,” his friend continued casually. “The government allows them to persist while keeping them contained, to a degree, within designated areas.”

“Your friend is, once again, quite astute. It very likely was a saturation zone,” Tylariel confirmed.

“Let me guess, they’re used for some sort of grinding?”

“Grinding?” Tylariel questioned.

“Shard nomenclature, Archon,” Adam answered smoothly. “It refers to intentionally repetitive combat designed to increase one’s strength and capability.”

“I see,” Tylariel said thoughtfully. “Then yes, Apprentice, that would be an apt term: they are zones used for ‘grinding’ by the Nobility and licensed Guilds or Adventurers.”

“Guilds and Adventurers,” Arcturus said flatly. “We’re sure this isn’t some VRMMORPG fever dream?”

Tylariel once again opened her mouth in confusion, only for Danica of all people to hurry forward and quietly murmur to the imperious Archon. After a moment, Tylariel nodded and seemed to focus away from the discussion as they came ever closer to the Villa.

“Absolutely sure, dude,” Adam assured him. “Terra has funky ways of doing things, and the System definitely sees Dungeons as part of itself, even if the connection is a bit… glitchy… at times. You gain all sorts of cool benefits from partaking in them, and from killing the Alpha monsters that spawn in them.”

[Perception Check] successful!

“Bosses, right?” Arcturus said after a second of thought.

“Yep,” Adam confirmed. “There’s all manner of cool things in dungeons due to the Aetherwarping effect of the saturation. Regular wolf goes in, murder-machine Dire Wolf comes out. Sometimes the effects are actually positive, too: some creatures become benevolent and helpful, because of what the Aether enhances.”

“But not usually,” Arcturus guessed.

“Not usually, no,” Adam agreed.

“So you’re all licensed Adventurers?” Arcturus guessed.

“Yeah. All Daeva are granted a license if we choose a combat class. The System is wacky with dungeons, since they don’t really follow identical laws to normal reality. A lot of them are like Tardises, but with murderous monsters inside.”

“So spatial manipulation bullshit.”

“Yeah, pretty much. There are usually about seven dungeons in the big cities like Luxanium, each with its own subdivided sectors or ‘dungeon wings’. It’s not just random wildlife in there, either.”

“Don’t tell me,” Arcturus said flatly. “Demons and stuff?”

Stop thinking of Succubi, pervert.

“Sort of,” Adam said. “There are other source-shards and dimensional planes that are really, really different from the Source. A lot of the denizens there, for whatever reason, aren’t really as compatible with Terra as we are. Demons, Angels… those kinds of creatures are from dimensional rifts, whereas what you might call ‘demented’ humans like Fae creatures or Naga, Arachne, Kobolds, and Goblins and stuff are from source-shards where things went… wrong. A lot of dungeons have those sorts of life forms in them, though no one really knows how they get there. We assume it’s System Processes, though the natives will tell you it’s the gods.” 

“Sounds like Church dogma,” Arcturus muttered.

“Probably,” Adam said with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure you ended up outside of a dungeon. Very likely, it’s because of your Aether density. For all that Daeva have the advantage with our ability to dictate how we grow, Archons are still no joke. Native Terrans aren’t like video game NPCs.”

“That doesn’t explain how I killed Geran, then.”

“Geran?” Adam enquired.

“The guy who was with Jess, Sumeko, and their leader, Jakob. It’s a long story.”

“He was probably just a basic class without much advancement. You also have to remember that you’re a Daeva and a natural Archon. Your baseline power, while not very impressive against someone like Tylariel or me, is scarce and incredibly potent when compared to the average rookie or low-level Terran adventurer. That includes Daeva.”

“You?” Arcturus asked suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

Adam smiled at him slyly. “What, you thought we were on an even playing field?”

“I just assumed…”

“I’m level 27, Arcturus,” Adam said conversationally. “Danica and Andy are both level 25, and before they left us, Alanna was level 23, and Amélie was level 29.”

Wow, the voice in his head said as Arcturus processed the words, I actually feel bad for you.

“Whoa. 29?”

“Yeah,” Adam said quietly. “She was something else after everything went down. Relentless, man. She set a punishing pace through every Dungeon we entered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Adam asked critically.

“Not being there. If I hadn’t been so fucking stubborn—”

“No one knows what might have happened, Arcturus,” Adam interjected firmly. “Worrying about the past is a good way to screw up your future. It isn’t your fault, man. You didn’t make her choose how she handled her grief, any more than you were the reason the rest of us handled it better. We all cared about you the same. She made her choice. Whatever else there is to say on it, you can’t take that away from her. It was her choice.”

Arcturus let loose a tense breath. “I guess you’re right. Since when did you become so wise?”

“I put a lot of points into Intelligence,” Adam replied casually.

Arcturus burst out laughing as Tylariel finally halted at the foot of the massive set of stairs leading up to the front doors of the palatial mansion.

“Before we enter, Apprentice, there is something that must be addressed.”

Arcturus looked at his Mentor in question, coming to a stop alongside Adam and Danica as the redhead turned to face them all.

“While you are my Apprentice, you are as good as family to House Rubastra. As your oathsworn, that same courtesy extends to your companions,” she said, and her eyes travelled over Adam and Danica. “But be warned: with this boon comes equal obligation. You must and will conduct yourself appropriately, as you now represent not just yourselves, but me and all of House Rubastra within Luxanium. Should you have concerns about your understanding of what this entails, there will be staff on hand to tutor you in the proper social norms.”

[Intelligence Check] successful!

Arcturus could read between the lines: Tylariel’s House was in a bad enough state as it was, given the recent bad blood between it and House Honorum. Aggravating that situation, even indirectly, could prove perilous or irrecoverable for Rubastra and everyone under its umbrella. He understood his new Mentor’s concern, and he understood that her concern was for him more than anyone else.

Especially given his true Bloodline, and what its premature exposure could mean.

“I think I can speak for all of us, Mentor, when I say that won’t be a problem,” Arcturus said confidently.

Adam and Danica’s affirming nods reinforced his resolve.

“Thank you,” Tylariel said with a small smile. “Now, shall we join everyone else inside?”

“Everyone?” Arcturus asked despite remembering what Adam had said at Maurice’s.

“We could have likely arrived first, but your companions did insist we stop at the store that Daeva had opened.” Tylariel reminded him.

“Oh Gods, Sato’s,” Danica said in remembrance. “No matter how often I go, it’s never enough. I can’t believe he actually opened a traditional Japanese curry place.”

Arcturus smiled at the memory of the food. “A delay well-spent, Mentor. I seem to recall you enjoying the food just as much as we did.”

Tylariel looked at him for a moment, then turned away and strode up the marble stairs without a response.

The three Daeva exchanged smirks as they ascended the stairs after the Archon, each of them absorbed in the beauty of the building before them. The stairwell itself was wide enough to fit ten people across comfortably, and even with only a dozen stairs, it spoke volumes of the wealth of House Rubastra that such an ascent—minimal though it was given the low angle of the stairs—had even been constructed at the entrance of the villa.

Damned if the Rubastras don’t know how to decorate.

When they reached the arched doorways leading inside the building, Arcturus was taken aback by the sheer immensity of the entrance hall. High, vaulted ceilings stood ten metres above them, with a pair of flowing staircases leading to a second-level overlook and landing that branched out into separate corridors on either side. The floor was made of white marble, with plush red carpeting leading to and up each stairwell. Light was provided by high windows above the entrance that let the sun wash over the interior, and by three stunning chandeliers hung equidistant from the doorway to the rear of the entrance hall.

Doorways leading deeper into the building were evident along the walls, and at distant points across the room, and from what Arcturus remembered, the entrance hall itself couldn’t have been more than a small part of the front of the palatial abode. He couldn’t quite fathom the wealth on display, even having grown up as affluent as he had. It was the sort of thing one might have seen in Elizabethan movies or Victorian television shows, not what was now his real life.

The fact that it was to be his home for at least the next three months only added to the surreal feeling.

“This place is insane,” Danica murmured.

Arcturus could only nod his agreement.

As he looked within, he was even more surprised by a full complement of maids awaiting them in two neat rows within. As they entered and looked around, Tylariel was already speaking with a tall, imperious-looking blonde woman in a flowing red dress; her hair in a neat bun and a pair of half-moon spectacles over her blue eyes.

“Hey, look,” he murmured to Adam and Danica. “It’s the Head Maid, or whatever. Wanna bet she has a full character arc about disapproving of me until I win her over with my heart of gold?”

Adam snorted, and Danica rolled her eyes.

“You watched way too much anime back home,” Danica said dismissively as Tylariel and the imperious woman turned towards them.

“Apprentice,” Tylariel said as she approached them, “this is Vivienne Dubois. She is the Estate Mistress and Head of Staff. If you require anything with urgency, do not hesitate to contact her. She will also assist you when it comes to finding succor for any personal needs.”

“Well met, Your Highness,” the Estate Mistress said with a small, formal curtsy.

[Perception Check] successful!

“Personal needs?” Arcturus asked quickly. “Like what?”

“Sexual frustration is a potent form of self-destructive distraction, Apprentice. While many noble women might choose to save themselves for their husbands out of respect for ancient custom, just as many care not a whit, and it is not an expectation held over noble sons at all. If you desire a bed warmer, Mistress Dubois can find someone.”

Arcturus spluttered in stunned disbelief while Adam and Danica grinned at each other.

“You two knew about this?!” he demanded as he turned to them.

“Almost two years on Terra, dude,” Adam responded with an amused tone. “We’re used to the customs by now.”

“It’s great,” Danica said enthusiastically. “A world where STIs are nonexistent thanks to magic, and you can get laid whenever you want without judgment—or at least, without judgment from anyone that matters. Adventurers are especially free when it comes to that stuff, since we’re all seen as crazy anyway.”

“This isn’t a normal thing for you, Apprentice?” Tylariel questioned.

“Of course it isn’t! I mean, I’m from a pretty modern world, but I’ve never been told I have a harem at my bloody beck and call before, no!”

Several of the maids giggled at his outburst, and Arcturus felt his cheeks flood with heat.

“His parents sheltered him,” Adam said conversationally to Tylariel and Vivienne. “He’d fall into the category of ‘traditional’, despite not being a noble maiden.”

“Can we please move on?” Arcturus demanded in a mortified tone, feeling embarrassed to his core. It didn’t help that even Vivienne was eyeing him over curiously, almost like a lioness looked at a lone gazelle. He didn’t like the interest in her cool blue eyes one bit!

“Of course,” Tylariel said with a raised eyebrow. “We can make our way to your rooms and get you situated. After that, and after he changes, I will take Arcturus to the training facilities in the western wing. We have no time to waste.”

“Hold on, we’re starting today?” Arcturus asked as Tylariel set off behind Vivienne, and the maids curtseyed low before scattering, presumably to fulfill their tasks.

“You should not be so surprised,” Tylariel said as they were led up the rightmost staircase. “You’ll have time to get yourself settled, bathed, and changed—after that, we must attend to your lessons immediately.”

His eyes boggled at his Mentor as she glanced back at him with an excited, and—to Arcturus—terrifying smile.

“Congratulations, Arcturus Regis. Today is your Commencement of the Path of Kings.”

Gods help us all.