Dwarf of Bronze (ZnT/AU)

[Kachajal]

As for the final part, I chose not to show the particular outcome of that moment in order to save the reveal for later.

Click to shrink...

I immediately assumed that Kenneth can use Earth magic of some sort, and that's what that stomp was. It did intrigue me, and I'm interested to see where that goes.

Also, did anyone else initially think that Saito was actually, somehow, Archer (as in EMIYA)? No? Just me, then.

Either way, enjoying the fic so far. I can't wait to see where you'll go with it.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Louise de la Vallière, frequently known as the Zero, still had no idea what to make of the young man who was, apparently, her familiar. From the beginning she'd had very little idea; when the smoke had cleared her first thought had been that he was just another in a long line of her failures.

But he wasn't. She hadn't known what to think about that. Kirche and the dwarf had been sitting together laughing over whatever ribald jokes he was telling while Guiche had his own little hissyfit in the corner and her familiar, her servant, just sat there quietly.

He'd answered questions, when she'd asked. Quietly, concisely, in slightly accented Tristainian. Without making eye contact at any point. She had eventually agreed to the contract if only because Professor Colbert had helped to draw it up, and she really wanted this to work.

She'd done it. He was bound to her, and contracted into her service. It was like she was dreaming. Of course, he was a person. That hadn't been expected. Really, she'd not had much of an idea what to do with them. In the end he'd suggested that he sleep with the other servants and come attend to her in the morning.

'Attend'. Hah. What a word. She'd woken up to find him waiting for her with a maid, and clothing laid out. Then he'd left the room while the maid helped dress her. When he came back in she'd informed him that she could dress herself from then on. That had been… embarrassing. The maid was nice about it, but she'd felt like a child again.

His reaction had been horrifying. He'd pulled out a riding crop, her crop, and apologized for his… his 'presumptuousness'. She hadn't understood what was going on. Her familiar was just kneeling down and offering her a tool. Then she'd understood. He wanted… no, perhaps the better word was that he'd expected to be beaten for it.

To what she would now say was her shame, Louise had considered it. She'd taken the crop from him and held it for a few moments. Her mother had punished servants in the past, but never by striking them. She knew other nobles did so. Maybe she would have done it, even, if he wasn't so… sincere.

That was the word. He obeyed orders without question and acted with a level of efficiency that matched anyone worthy of employ by the Vallière's. It might be different if he was irreverent, or insulting, or disrespected her on any level. Instead he… he turned his back to her so she could strike him more easily.

She'd let it go. They'd gone to the dining hall together, with him following quietly only a few steps back. When they arrived he'd done all the things she supposed a servant was meant to do. He was drawing quite a lot of attention, though, with how he stood perpetually ready to attend her.

In the end she'd ordered him to familiarise himself with the grounds while she was in class just to get him out of the way. The constant attendance was nice, she supposed, but the amount of focus she was getting from everyone wasn't something she was used to. When it was positive, that is.

Lunch became another surprise. She'd been cleaning up the classroom after another failed spell when he'd appeared with a pre-prepared lunch for her. While she ate he'd started doing her job in her stead; an attempt to tell him not to got a mild rebuff followed by another apologetic offer for her to punish him.

That seemed to be the routine from then on. He'd show up to wake her, with her clothes for the day laid out already, and then step outside while she dressed herself. During breakfast he would handle her chair, fix a plate for her and calmly wait until she was done. If she had a mishap during the day then he'd shortly appear to help her clean up.

At the end of the second day, when she returned to her room, it was spotless. He'd dusted and washed everything and also waxed all of the wooden surfaces. All of her clothes had been washed, pressed and apparently infused with some sort of flowery scent that was quite nice. When she pressed him for information he eventually revealed that he'd stepped out of Academy during her classes yesterday and acquired some wildflowers that he had distilled down to their vital essences.

It was just all so strange. Louise had never had a dedicated attendant before. The servants at home were certainly skilled but, at the same time, they were always just sort of there. Almost like furniture. Whereas her familiar was always there beside her. Whenever she needed him he just materialized to do her bidding; carrying out her orders with an intensity that seemed to consume him, utterly.

On the third day with him she was suddenly struck with a deep and abiding fear that, if she did not keep an eye on him, he may just start going even further overboard. A vision of her familiar diligently renewing the lace on all of her underthings drove her to imperiously demand he stay with her during class time.

That was when she learned about another trait of her familiar. He was an idiot. Against the advisement of all of her classmates she was called upon, again, to try and perform a spell in class. The expected happened, of course, with a devastating blast. Luckily, nobody was hurt… except her stupid, courageous, heroic idiot of a familiar.

He'd crossed the room and knocked her down with a flying tackle. When the dust had settled she'd been fine, as had the majority of the class. Some scrapes and a few scratches and one person in a mild fugue due to Montmorency's terrified lizard crawling over their face. Then there was him, with a twenty centimetre splinter of wood in his back.

She'd gotten permission to take him to the infirmary straight away and return to clean up later. The school's healer had removed the shard of desk and cleaned him up right-quick. It hadn't penetrated all that far; apparently because of how tense his muscles had been when it hit. He'd been advised to not do it again.

When Louise had tried to order him not to do it again she had received, for the very first time, a glimmer of an emotion beyond blind obedience from him. If that even counted. Saito had outright refused to do so. He'd said that she had accepted his service and that meant he would protect her whether she liked it or not.

It had been… certainly something. The fervor in his voice had given her pause. Although he threw himself fervently into any task she gave him it somehow felt more genuine in that moment. She did punish him, then; assuming that punching him in the shoulder for saying something so stupid counted.

Afterwards she'd hugged him as well, because it felt like the thing to do.

The next day was uneventful even if she was finally falling into a proper rhythm with Saito. He didn't seem quite so intimidating after the previous day's events and so she felt like she could stand up to him. Sort of. Well, that was how she saw it.

Ignoring his many attempts to dissuade her she took him into the woods near the Academy in order to point out which plants made useful reagents. Apparently, when he'd come here on his own, he'd had to avoid a few instances of dangerous wildlife. She merely pronounced her confidence in his ability to protect her and actually got a very tiny huff from him in response.

Well, he might have just been breathing out. It was very hard to damage his composure. Still, the day had gone well. He'd even demonstrated one of his skills at her request; his ability to read tracks. Saito hadn't fully explained himself until after the first demonstration which had involved leading her to the hiding place of an adorably terrified fawn.

The moment had been somewhat spoiled when he asked if she would like venison for dinner. That had lead to a discussion as to what sort of game was and was not acceptable with fawns being highly ranked on the 'unacceptable' listing. Besides which, in many places certain animals belonged either to the local noble or the crown and hunting them would be poaching. She wasn't sure what applied to this area but it was likely property of the Academy itself.

He'd moved on to showing her how he'd identified the tracks of the mother deer in a way that made her suspect he might already be guilty of poaching. It was actually refreshing to know that even her seemingly perfect familiar could make mistakes. Louise made a note to bring it up at every opportunity.

It was, however, a productive day; even if she couldn't understand the explanations. In some small way, Louise still felt like she was a little closer with her familiar. From what she'd seen of the others Saito was meant to be more like a lifelong partner than an actual servant.

The bond was supposed to persist until the death of one of you; in theory you could summon a new familiar but few chose to do so. At least not soon. She knew her mother had done so, and almost immediately, but apparently she'd needed a mount immediately and had no time for sentimentality. Just one of many things she rarely had time for.

Apparently Louise didn't either, because the thought had barely time to cross her mind before she fell asleep. Saito hadn't woken her up, but her clothes were laid out as per usual. He wasn't waiting outside of her door like she'd expected. She'd had to venture into the servants area to find him and that had certainly been awkward; all of the Academy's maids kept looking at her strangely.

He had been deep in discussion with one of the maids, in fact. She almost hadn't wanted to interrupt them but he'd seemed to sense her and turned around as soon as she thought about stepping back. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed; another human emotion that seemed out of place on her oh-so-precise familiar.

Saito had apologized, of course. Apparently he had come here for some inscrutable purpose that he did his best to gloss over and simply gotten distracted. Although, after a bit of pressing, she was able to figure out why her usually unflappable servant was so deeply invested in some random maid.

Seems he'd recognized something she was carrying as a religious symbol from his homeland. She'd given him the morning off, then. He'd looked conflicted but, in the end, had acquiesced with her request once it became a command. Louise knew that he'd never ask her for a day off even if she had to, by contract, grant them to him.

Instead of attempting to bond further with her familiar she'd spent the morning catching up on coursework. It wasn't that difficult. She could barely recall a time when she'd had difficulty with any theory work. Even the third year's curriculum had grown dull. Nowadays she preferred to look up some of the professionally published treatises in the library; anything by one of the Professors tended to provide a nice challenge.

Well, she could barely understand it at all but challenging herself like that was at least more interesting than crunching through sets of questions that were essentially the same. Number of unique spell configurations, number of known spells, reason for discrepancies, so on and so forth. She doubted half her classmates paid as much attention as she did; they were too focused on the practical side.

When Saito had finally returned to her she was trying to figure out a paper by the new teacher who'd had her blow up a classroom the day of the summoning while trying a basic transmutation. It was about the nature of certain metals being harder to transmute or manipulate than others and why that might be so.

At the time he interrupted her she was puzzling over descriptions of certain alloys and the rough amounts of willpower consumed by shaping them, as well as comparing the difficulty of transmuting a simple stone into one versus shaping the component metals instead. It was… well, perhaps it was not interesting but she found it to be so even if others did not.

Still, her familiar had come to her with a curious request. He'd asked if they could travel into town so that she might purchase some weaponry for him. They had been lucky before to avoid any dangers in the forest but if they came he would be forced to defend her with his hands alone. While he would certainly do as such it would not do for him to so shamefully die while his master had need of him.

The argument had swayed her and she'd agreed to go; next weekend. For some reason that would not do, though, and when she pointed out that the ride there would take up time enough even without considering the return trip he had simply said that he would take care of it.

Louise made careful note that, in the future, if her familiar declared he would 'take care' of anything at all she would get all of the details before allowing him to do so. She was unable to make this note until such time as the horse they were riding on skidded to a halt. As her thoughts had readjusted themselves she'd tried to figure out precisely how he'd managed to get her on the animal behind him.

It had seemed reasonable. She was capable enough of riding her own horse at a reasonable pace, but he claimed to have far greater experience at controlling such animals at speed. Louise hadn't doubted him there; her own skill in such could not be measured due to its total absence. How very reasonable he had seemed when the horse was not galloping full speed down the main road.

The reason for her blessed respite had been the other person to receive a strange familiar; Guiche de Gramont. She had little care for the foppish young man but was rather surprised to see him in such an unruly state and out in the middle of nowhere with his, ah, dwarf. Until she'd had a moment to think on it she realized that she hadn't seen much of either of them since the summoning save for during class time.

Said dwarf, whom she'd needed to remind herself actually had a name, had made a curious offer that Saito had been eager to accept. Some moments of conversation had lead him to explain, in short, that the individual in question was a literal living legend in his homeland and that to refuse an offer of a dwarf-made weapon, without any mention of payment, was the height of foolishness.

So she'd acquiesced. Then there had been the weapon store and, well, the less thought about that debacle and the incredible rudeness involved therein the better.

Mostly because it had ended with her mother coming to the school in person to check on her. Guiche had looked similarly green to be faced with his own father and, so, some part of her was thoroughly unsurprised to have him come to her the next morning to commiserate.

She'd never known him to have an emotion beyond vanity, arrogance or preening. The latter surely counted as an emotion; at least when dealing with Guiche. To see him as morose as she was certainly changed her opinion of him. Then his family situation, and almost perfect relationship with his father… well, from her point of view, at least. He didn't quite see it that way.

In the end he could understand her at least a little bit as well even if they approached the issues of their parents from different directions. Guiche seemed to do his best to be anything but what his father wanted whereas she… in the end she would have simply settled for not being a disappointment.

Which lead to the frankly astounding scene she had come face to face with. Her mother, standing beside her familiar in the central courtyard of the school, was smiling. She looked… pleased. Then she looked up at her daughter and her expression didn't change.

It might just be the greatest day of her entire life.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Bumping into Louise's mother, and familiar, on the way down to meet his father was definitely in the running for the most unpleasant moment of Guiche's entire life. Even then, that was really the wrong word. It was less unpleasant and more absolutely, abjectly terrifying.

He knew very little about the Duchess. His father spoke of a number of nobles with varying frequency, the Duke de la Vallière certainly being one of them, but the topic of the man's wife never seemed to come up. Something about her just made Guiche's hairs stand on end. She was a woman who gave the constant impression that she was restraining, at great personal effort, from laying waste to everything her gaze fell upon.

If he hadn't met Kenneth then he might not have been able to identify it. But it was something he'd asked the dwarf about; the curious intensity he seemed to be able to bring to bear at a moment's notice in order to immediately shatter Guiche's resolve and bring him to heel. The dwarf had eventually said, after some hemming and hawing, that it was a mixture of two things.

Firstly, it was evaluation. Kenneth was, on some subtle level, constantly examining everything he saw to see if it was a threat to him. The only time he let his guard down was when he was alone with his wife. Secondly, it was determination. That explanation had left Guiche cold. Simply put, Kenneth was a killer. Not a murderer, although he was guilty of that crime in some cases; where it had been his word against another's, where there was no evidence to be brought before a magistrate and no justice save that delivered at the end of an axe swing.

Rather, he had killed before. He would kill again if he had to. Without hesitation. Not without cause, certainly, but once that cause was there he would wade through pools of blood to see it through. It was the path that Guiche himself would end up upon if he carried on under Kenneth's instruction. The dwarf had promised him, though, that he would tell him when he reached the point of no return. Few people got that luxury.

That was Louise's mother in a nutshell. She could and probably would slaughter him with a flick of her wand should she feel sufficient cause to do so. He resolved, then and there, never to give that to her. In the face of that steely determination his father was almost a joke.

The key word there, Guiche mused, being 'almost'. He had followed the Duchess quietly, though not as quietly as Saito, and they'd ended up outside. Kenneth was standing beside his father and holding some things. They were both waiting for him.

It seemed unfair that even after being exposed to Kenneth for almost a week now his father could so easily cow him. Surely they weren't even on the same scale of fear? But, no, one stern look as they drew closer brought him to silence… although the words that followed would have done so anyway.

"My son's familiar has proven he has an… adequate level of skill. In non-martial spheres, at least. Your daughter's?" The Duchess glanced down at Saito, who was standing in his usual demure holding pattern right where a casual sideways glance could see him.

"I have extracted the rough details of his capabilities from him, with no small amount of effort, and evaluated those I could. Now all that remains is to test the remainder with the help of this dwarf." Kenneth didn't rankle at the nomenclature even if it was likely not meant as a racial identifier. He merely offered the bow up to Saito.

The young man seemed almost perplexed by it. However, at the Duchess' command, they moved outside of the Academy's walls to the low plain nearby. Kenneth apologized for not supplying proper arrows but apparently he'd run out of time.

"Hmph. A true soldier does not blame his tools for poor performance… but I shall be interested in the results nonetheless." General Gramont was not quite swayed yet, it seemed. Several porters carrying makeshift archery butts had shortly followed them out and set about laying them out. There were quite a few; three were laid out at around fifty metres, then one laid out at a hundred, then a hundred and fifty, and lastly one at two-hundred. That was her command, at least, and they seemed close enough to the mark to satisfy her.

"You may now demonstrate." Saito nodded and stepped up as Guiche watched with bated breath. This was it. Not only was the fate of Louise's familiar resting on this but also the reputation of his own. If Kenneth's bow proved to be unsuitable then his father would have cause to rescind his earlier assessment.

The first shot went nowhere near the first of the three closer targets; Saito overshot by a good thirty metres. His second was far too short. Then the third passed between two of them. Guiche had to resist the urge to groan. If not for the circumstances he might be elated at the failures simply due to how thoroughly the perfect servant had proven himself to be otherwise.

His moment of despair collapsed in on itself as the fourth arrow hit one of the targets. It was not complex; they had taken unused easels and simply laid scrap fabric around a circular frame, with a rough red spot in the middle about the size of a fist. Still, he had hit the target.

Saito's fifth arrow hit the red spot. His sixth did as well; on the next target over. His seventh did too, and by then he was drawing and releasing in a single, smooth motion that left him adjusting towards the next target before his arrow had even hit. After all three had hit at the fifty mark he struck the hundred next, then the hundred and fifty, then back to put an arrow in each of the fifties once more before circling back around yet again.

His first shot at the hundred and fifty butt had hit it, but not the center. He finished off by putting the last three arrows through the red mark and lowered his bow. Three misses out of fifteen arrows, but once he'd hit a target he hadn't missed again.

Guiche and his father had rather similar reactions to the display; that being a burst of initial surprise and then simply being mildly impressed by the end. Certainly, it was a good showing but not a particularly strenuous feat for a quality archer, surely? But Kenneth was smirking for some reason.

"Y'barely strained y'self there, lad. Why dun we go fer a real challenge?" Her Grace seemed to agree with his familiar's sentiments, for she directed the porters to recollect the arrows and take the butts out even further. One was shortly sitting at two-hundred metres, and another at two-fifty. After some consideration they put one all the way out at three-hundred metres.

A truly skilled musketeer could only reliably hit a target at under a hundred and fifty metres; although some of the elite could supposedly make better shots. Accurate archery range was a little better than that, but you tended to mass bows for effect in any case. It was the only way to reliably damage an enemy army with any wind mages seconded to it.

Saito took a few moments to prepare before taking his first shot. It landed within a metre of the two-hundred. He paused for a few moments before firing again; a hit, this time. The third went right through the middle. For the two-fifty he actually clipped the edge of the butt with his first shot, then the second and third landed within a handspan of the center. Guiche found he was actually holding his breath.

For a time the familiar was very still. He sighted on the last target and then closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths. When he opened them he drew and fired in one smooth, beautiful motion. Their eyes were glued to the arrow as it described a short spiral on the way downrange before, finally, landing firmly in the top of the target.

"Hm." The Duchess broke the stunned silence as she cast a critical eye over his shots. "You will practice more; but your skill level is… acceptable. How is the equipment?" Saito raised the bow and held it out. What a curious mess it was. Strangely shaped arms, multiple strings on an odd frame and a construction that featured wood and metal in a bizarre fusion.

"It is curious. After a point some peculiarity in the mechanism makes it suddenly easier to draw; I suspect sustained shooting will be easier than with a traditional bow, although my speed may suffer." Kenneth nodded with a certain air of smugness. It was his craftsmanship on display, after all. "Distance is also good. With proper fletching I should be able to increase my accuracy in the middle ranges but beyond two hundred and fifty metres it is more luck than skill to hit."

Guiche just silently noted that, if that last target had been a standing man, the arrow would have likely caught them in the forehead or throat. Her Grace looked rather pleased, though. They followed her lead back inside and left the porters to tidy up. Saito was clutching his bow like it might run away from him at any moment; he seemed inordinately pleased to have it.

As they reached the courtyard Louise finally came forth. Her mother hadn't asked him where she was, but if she had then he'd have gladly volunteered she had to clean up yet another mess. Only a small one this time, relatively speaking. Funnily enough, she seemed strangely startled at seeing her mother for some reason.

"Ah, Louise. Your familiar has met my expectations. I have agreed to the terms of his contract, and shall append his wages to your monthly allowance." That was much better than Guiche had expected to get. He also hadn't expected Her Grace to lay her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Your judgement was sound. He is a quality servant, and well worthy of our house."

Tears were actually welling in Louise's eyes as she stared up at her mother. Ah. Right. That was probably the closest to a complete compliment that she'd ever heard from her parent. Guiche couldn't help but glance over at his own father; who was watching the proceedings intently and with disapproval.

"Hmph. It seems that neither of you are, as first I had suspected, a pair of brazen rogues attempting to con our children out of money." That was likely the closest that his father would get to admitting he'd been wrong. Guiche could just sense the oncoming counterpoint, though.

"However; while I will gladly acknowledge Karin's judgement in regards to her own daughter's familiar I am not so convinced as to yours, Guiche. Certainly he has a level of artisanal talents, that I will not deny." Luckily, with how Kenneth was facing, nobody but Guiche saw him roll his eyes. "Yet it remains to be seen if he is worth the exorbitant wage that he is demanding."

The General looked to Karin, who gave him a similarly fixed stare back. There seemed to be a silent war carrying on in their gazes; some severe struggle back and forth. In the end it was his father who looked away.

"Your presumptions give credit to your bravery, Armand, but not to your intellect. I shan't play the role of your fighting dog in this ring." The way his father shrugged led Guiche to believe that he had expected as much and merely asked on principle.

"Very well." Armand de Gramont shrugged his cloak off and waved over one of the omnipresent guards he'd brought with him. Guiche had rather forgotten they were there, if he'd ever taken notice of them in the first place. Underneath he was clad in his fine breastplate embossed with their house crest.

Others brought over greaves and bracers for him that they set about quickly securing as Guiche slowly realized what was going on. He grasped his familiar by the shoulder and pulled him around; lowering himself to the same height.

"He's going to fight you!" Kenneth nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. This was going to be a disaster. His father was a Square-class Earth mage! While the dwarf was certainly strong and tough and eminently skilled there was no way he could hold his own against someone like that, even with his own peculiar talents.

"Aye, boy. That'd be what ah was countin' on." His familiar shucked his stone burden and carefully laid it down on the ground. Then he looked to Armand. "Mayhaps y'wanna do this outside th' walls. We dinnae wanna do any damage to th' grounds, do we?" The look of amusement on the General's face was palpable but he inclined his head all the same.

They strolled back out on the the plain where the archery demonstration had taken place; now devoid of targets, and stood some ten metres apart. Guiche stood much further back with the Duchess, Louise and Saito; the foremost of the three conspicuously standing in front of them. As was custom, his father bowed to Kenneth and then introduced himself.

"I am Armand the Quake, good dwarf, and I would know your name as well... before I test your mettle." This couldn't end well. He hadn't heard that name in so long, now. Only when Louise laid a hand on his shoulder did Guiche realize he was trembling. His father had drawn his swordwand and stood at the ready, while his familiar just stood there.

"Aye… ye would, would ye? Ah get yer meaning there, boy." Even if he was trying to be polite about the duel it still seemed to annoy his father every time Kenneth did that. Even if it was, by his standards, entirely accurate.

"Very well. Ah am Kenneth Manson, once Son of Man; called by name o' Flamecutter, Mountain Rider, Dragon Drinker, an' Tomb Bearer. Y'may think yer a big man 'round these parts, kid, but lemme tell you; ah was fighting wars afore yer grandfather were e'en born." He loosed his axe from his side and lifted his hand to run it along the edge of the blade. There was a glow between his fingers as the surface began to glow red.

"T'summarise for ya, brat? Bring it."

 

[ChandraMagic]

He knew very little about the Duchess de la Vallière. His father spoke of a number of nobles with varying frequency, the Duke certainly being one of them, but the topic of his wife never seemed to come up. Something about her just made Guiche's hairs stand on end. She was a woman who gave the constant impression that she was restraining, at great personal effort, from laying waste to everything her gaze fell upon.

Click to shrink...

This whole paragraph is a bit of a mess. It took me a couple of passes to realize that the Duke mentioned was meant to be Karin's husband, and not Guiche's father.

Otherwise, not bad. A bit more telling than showing than I like, but it is a basic summation of what has been going on with Louise while we've seen Guiche suffer through growth, and since this is a Guiche focal story, that is...acceptable, I guess.

When we snap back to the present, not bad, although I'm not sure Saito would call a recurve bow a recurve, here:

"It is curious. After a point some peculiarity in the mechanism makes it suddenly easier to draw; I suspect sustained shooting will be easier than with a recurve, although my speed may suffer." Kenneth nodded with a certain air of smugness. It was his craftsmanship on display, after all. "Distance is also good. With proper fletching I should be able to increase my accuracy in the middle ranges but beyond two hundred and fifty metres it is more luck than skill to hit."

Click to shrink...

He'd probably just call it a 'traditional' bow.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

This whole paragraph is a bit of a mess. It took me a couple of passes to realize that the Duke mentioned was meant to be Karin's husband, and not Guiche's father.

Click to shrink...

I'll take care of it.

When we snap back to the present, not bad, although I'm not sure Saito would call a recurve bow a recurve, here:

He'd probably just call it a 'traditional' bow.

Click to shrink...

It was my thought that he would, though, because they have flatbows, longbows and composite bows at home as well.

 

[ChandraMagic]

I'll take care of it.

Click to shrink...

Yay, much clearer!

It was my thought that he would, though, because they have flatbows, longbows and composite bows at home as well.

Click to shrink...

Enh, we discussed this on IRC. I'll withdraw my knitpick about it, either way.

 

[GiftofLove]

"T'summarise for ya, brat? Bring it."

Click to shrink...

I can't wait! I am absolutely itching to see how Kenneth does.

 

[Jarudazuigu]

By leaving Gramont senior within inch of his life? Like he promised Guiche.

 

[Kachajal]

Typos!

from his point of view, at least.

Click to shrink...

Should be "her point of view", I believe

Now without cause

Click to shrink...

"Not without cause"

lowered her boy

Click to shrink...

"lowered his bow"

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Typos!

Should be "her point of view", I believe

"Not without cause"

"lowered his bow"

Click to shrink...

Fixed, thank you.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Every mage had a tendency to acquire a 'signature' spell. It was just a matter of efficiency; not everyone could unleash such devastating damage as Karin could without an incantation and, so, one would by necessity practice saying the incantation of a particular spell as fast as possible.

For most of the nobility it was enough to have just one, maybe two. Armand's old friend over there could get away without having any; which isn't to say that she didn't, merely that she didn't have to. As for the General himself? He spent every morning reciting every incantation in his main combat repertoire in sequence, ten times, as he performed his post-waking routine.

Which is why the incantation for his one, true signature spell tumbled out of his mouth within two seconds and shattered the plain beneath them into unrecognizability.

Four stacked Earth elements; a pure Earth spell of devastating power. Square-Class Magic 'Grand Quake'. The primary impact point, and an area within about two metres of it, was undamaged by design. Then the shockwaves rolled out; waves of ground liquefaction causing the area to briefly resemble an ocean in a storm.

Then it was torn apart. The raised ground collapsed and broke apart. General Gramont scanned the rubble for a sign of his opponent and was somewhat surprised to see he was still standing. Perhaps he shouldn't have toned his spell down. Still, even at half power that was impressive.

In a way, that was already a passing grade. He doubted that Guiche would ever have cause to encounter someone nearly so dangerous as himself. But the current situation had him feeling rather curious. His expectation had been to pick the dazed little brute out of the rubble.

Instead said brute was resolutely charging towards him over the rubble. He didn't seem to be having all that much difficulty with the difficult terrain, either. Armand took a moment to animate the ground below his feet to lift him up. With that much he could certainl-

It was quite lucky that he had some chantless casting ability. Not nearly as much as Karin, but certainly enough to wordlessly blast a small wave of dirt upwards in order to deflect the crossbow bolt that Kenneth had just fired at him. It was knocked off course by the cloud of debris and spun off to one side with a spiteful buzz.

The short bastard could cock it one-handed as well. He fired again; only this time Armand was prepared for it and had animated a second mass of earth to use as a shield. It rose up to take the bolt, but the distraction of the shots had allowed the dwarf to draw nearer to him.

Time to move away. The earth beneath him shifted and carried him back at a rate the tiny creature couldn't match. Hmph. A crossbow and an axe against a noble mage? Like that would ever work. Even if he was rather tough he simply couldn't… catch… up?

Which was apparently why he'd stopped trying. Instead he was just standing there on a pile of rubble. Waiting. He'd realized he couldn't catch up either, but he'd also put his crossbow away. Armand directed his mobile platform to circle to the side toward the observers just in case; that way they would be behind him if he had to do something big again.

It took a moment for him to realize that Kenneth wasn't looking at him. He was looking past him, towards his son. Something seemed to pass between the two, because Guiche nodded slowly. Then Kenneth shifted his focus back to Armand.

The dwarf tapped his foot against the ground and immediately dropped out of sight.

In the following moments General Gramont cursed the cognitive dissonance that delayed his response. He knew that the familiar was not human, he has seen it use a form of magic just earlier that day and his son was also an Earth mage. So it stood to reason that his familiar, being magically capable, would have complementary abilities!

His internal surety that only nobles could use magic had dulled his reaction speed when faced with evidence to the contrary. It was stupid. Karin would undoubtedly lecture him on it later. Armand quickly stacked three earths together and unleashed a lesser Quake spell towards the point where the dwarf had vanished.

A rising tide of shifting earth and stone moved out from him like a wave; spreading as it did so. And, as the wake rose into the air, it split in twain mere metres in front of him. Armand had to launch himself off his perch in order to avoid the ground-splitting two-handed axe stroke that passed through the spot his head had occupied only a second earlier.

Quite literally ground-splitting, in fact, as Armand saw and felt the animating energy of his platform dissolve due to the damage Kenneth had caused to it with that one hit. He didn't particularly care, though. This had started out dull and quite suddenly become very exciting.

The familiar turned to acquire his target and then leaned forward; tapping the ground twice with his foot. It rose up in a little heap and propelled him forward as he balanced on the fast-moving surface. Armand couldn't stop the feral grin that came to his face. It was just like fighting with an elf.

That didn't stop him from reacting, of course. As Kenneth drew closer he allowed the dirt pushing him to curve slightly and tilt to one side; allowing him better leverage for the upswing he directed towards Armand's side. Instead of trying to block a creature obviously much more physically adept than he was the General pushed himself back at the last moment then let loose the spell he'd been building.

That made two Square spells in one day; he'd like as not have a splitting headache by the end of the fight but it would be well worth it. His blood hadn't boiled like this for years. The little shit wasn't hesitating at all, nor holding back; every strike so far would have been fully lethal if it had connected.

His spell of choice in this case was another one of his own devising. He'd named it 'Stone Hydra' when he was a much younger man, and had thought such a thing sounded cool. Really, it was far more impressive than the Grand Quake; but, still, he'd gotten named for the other one. Sometimes there was no justice.

The first animated serpent surged forth from the ground to Kenneth's left and bore down on him; sloughing off loose dirt as it rose and dived. There were close to a dozen of them now, born from years of perfecting the spell. Compressing and transforming the dirt into stone was far less energy intensive than metal transmutations, and making them bronze or steel would have just been overkill.

Or so he'd thought until right that moment.

Kenneth spun out of the way as his creation hit the ground. It moved through the ground like it was water, complete with ripples in the ground as the force of its motions caused liquefaction. His outstretched hand skimmed along the side of the diving beast and then he reversed his axe in order to drive the spike on the back home.

A massive gout of stone was torn out of the serpent as it finished the dive and vanished beneath the surface. It was at the moment that the second one leapt that Armand suddenly realized the flaw in his attack. Unlike the various other mages and armies he'd unleashed these on… Kenneth was experienced in fighting things like these.

Case in point, as the second gaping maw of teeth bore down upon him he spun around and moved to one side; striking the beast on the side of its nose with a forceful left hook as he avoided the charge. Armand's snake spun right off course and dug out a deep furrow when it struck the ground at the wrong angle.

The General focused on the others forming underneath him. He could feel the base structure, the actual 'Hydra', forming the next set of serpents, and the first one was only lightly damaged. A quick command spell was sent down into the dirt in order to command the remainder to stay put. He'd gather them all, and strike in sequence.

His very first one burst up from under Kenneth. They had sharp teeth, certainly, but also a stomach. Many times he'd captured enemy nobles by consuming them from beneath like this. The strategy didn't work so well on the dwarf. Instead of the snake curving over and back down into the ground again, prize safely in its stomach, there was a horrific sound as a line of red appeared halfway down the damaged body.

The top half broke away from the bottom in an explosion of rocky shards and Kenneth leapt out from between them. He hit the ground not ten metres distant from Armand and exploded forward with axe swinging. A desperate attempt to dodge and parry at the same time didn't result in the jarring impact that the General had been expected. He was, however, scratched across the face as half his sword went flying away over his shoulder.

Armand tumbled and hit the ground, words forming on his tongue as Kenneth brought his axe around for the second stroke. His palm hit the ground, pushing him up and launching a spike of earth right into the dwarf's chest.

The tip of the spike penetrated the surface of the armour and then shattered. Armand was on his feet now, retrieving his first spare wand from where it was strapped to his right bracer; while it would work from there he needed the extra control.

He was resorting to high-speed Dot and Line spells, now. Rows upon rows of earthen spikes shot out of the ground towards his foe to no effect. Anything that hit the armour broke, a good number of them were destroyed by one-handed axes strokes before then and when he got enough distance to risk an Earth Lance, a Triangle spell, Kenneth had punched the tip of the spike with his left hand and it had shattered down its length.

Fantastic. The dwarf was fantastic. Armand would have been proud to fight alongside him in the field. Unfortunately, the fight was now over. He'd have loved to extend it but he had to acknowledge the small man's staying power in this conflict was far greater than his. Already he could feel the tell-tale burn of willpower exhaustion starting to creep up on him.

Ten stone serpentine heads burst from the ground around Kenneth. These hadn't been disengaged from the main body just yet. They formed a circle and curled down to glare at him. Couldn't hiss, though. Armand had never been able to get the hissing down.

The dwarf was still but tense; balancing his axe in hand and trying to keep an eye on as many of them as possible. He didn't move otherwise. Armand took the opportunity to finally catch his breath; he hadn't realized how much the running had taken out of him.

"Yield… dwarf. You are… surrounded." Still puffed. A quick glance over at the watchers confirmed that Karin looked unimpressed. She'd likely have words with him regarding the importance of staying in good condition. Worse still was that she would have a very good point. A few of those swipes had come unpleasantly close.

"Heh. Y'got a high opinion o' yerself there, Gen'ral. These ain't so big a problem fer me." He hefted his axe and gave an appraising look to the heads. Armand started preparing another spell.. just in case. A basic quake would destabilize his footing, but then… then what? Hm. He didn't actually want to kill the dwarf, but that might just be the only way to put him down.

His thought process was interrupted by Kenneth being launched into the air towards him. The heads moved automatically to snap at him as he passed between them. They disengaged from the core below and all went to leap after him; just as they'd been told to do.

It was an orgy of destruction. Armand flung himself back again with a quick spell directed at his feet and could only watch as the dwarf slapped aside the stone serpents with his axe as if they were barely more than loose leaves on the breeze. His every swing tore a off a jaw or ripped a huge gouge out of the belly of the specialized golems.

Armand was losing. The dwarf's strength and equipment flat-out trumped the physical power of his spells. But he couldn't afford to lose this battle. At this point the familiar had certainly proven himself, that much was beyond question, but he would be damned if he was going to lose in front of his son. Not on this day.

The last stone beast had its face split down the middle by an almighty cleave that shattered it down its length. No matter how sharp that axe apparently was it seemed that the strength of the wielder still made it more of a blunt weapon. He couldn't cut fast enough to avoid smashing whatever he hit. It was amazing to see.

However, Armand had one trump card left. It would burn out most of his remaining power but it would be well worth it. Kenneth turned, a feral grin on his face that surely matched the General's own, and began his final charge. In turn, his opponent raised his wand and prepared his last spell of the battle.

A bolt of lightning crossed the distance between the two in a flash of white light. It struck Kenneth's axe directly and the dwarf froze in place; shuddering violently as the Triangle spell earthed itself down through his arm and out his feet. Smoke rose from little wisps from his skin and beard until, finally, he keeled over backwards.

General Gramont collapsed on to his knees, breathing heavily. Air spells took it out of him enough at the best of times, but pulling that off likely meant he wouldn't be able to cast for several days. However, as he looked over and saw the awestruck expression of his son…

Yes, it was definitely worth it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Guiche stared blankly at the scene before him. Apparently, his father had won. After a fight that had ruined the landscape in front of the school. A hectic and maddening combat that had, when it all came down to it, barely lasted a few minutes.

The Duchess Vallière was making disapproving sounds next to him but, even so, was still faintly smirking. She looked down to Guiche, her daughter and familiar then back to the battlefield.

"Attend to your familiar, boy, and I shall see to your father." Then she began to stride across the ravaged plain towards the kneeling figure of the General. Guiche didn't move for a few moments; he was still somewhat stunned by what had just happened.

"Saito?" Guiche's head snapped to one side, startled. It was only Louise, though; he'd forgotten she was there. "Fetch some water to drink, and a bucket with which to rouse Ser Kenneth." The exemplary familiar bowed deeply to her, and then hustled off to fulfill her command.

"Ah, thank you kindly, Louise." Finally, Guiche pulled himself out of his daze and started off after the Duchess; veering off towards his familiar instead. He could hear a low conversation starting between the two adults; Louise's mother chiding his own father for a certain lack of fitness, and demanding to know what he would have done if the bolt hadn't worked.

But it had, hadn't it? After all that… after how effortless Kenneth had seen to every spell that his father had brought out he was laid low by a single Air spell. It wasn't even a favourable element! In fact, he knew for a fact that his father had great difficulty with it because everyone… said… so...

Oh. Of course. He didn't have all that much difficulty with it, he just wanted it to be widely known that he did. An agile or flying enemy was a good counter for his father's Earth spells but one that was, in turn, easily defeated by the hard to avoid Lightning branch of Air magic. It was a tricky ability to learn, as well, let alone master.

Guiche found himself at Kenneth's side. The dwarf smelled of bacon. Again. He supposed that was what happened when you were struck by lightning. Barely daring to hope that he might be alright, Guiche tried to check to see if he was breathing. Fortunately, he was; although his eyes were closed. He had to be careful; the edge of that axe was still red-hot.

His armour was fine, though. The clay was slightly cracked in places, revealing something very black underneath that made Guiche's sinuses ache just from looking at it, but nothing had penetrated the surface. He had to be horribly bruised underneath, though; the General hadn't been pulling any punches.

Saito arrived shortly, although Louise was staying out of the battlefield, with a bucket of water and a number of rags. In lieu of drinking water, however, he'd brought a small wineskin. The two of them hunched over the squat figure as the familiar laid wet rags upon his compatriots forehead.

"He'll be fine." Guiche was doubly startled; he couldn't recall ever being directly spoken to by the curious young man that dogged Louise's every step. "Your father is certainly a great mage, but Ser Flamecutter earned his name fighting things far deadlier. His strength is not his physical power, but his fortitude."

"Thank you." It surprised even himself to hear those words. Between the two of them and a pair of Guiche's Bronze Valkyries they were able to get the dwarf up and start carrying him back to the academy. General Gramont met them along the way and walked alongside them in silence.

"He has my approval." Guiche looked up at his father, who wasn't facing him. "The dwarf conducted himself well during the conflict. He fought with all of his might and as a result I have no qualms with entrusting you to his care." There was a brief pause and then he did look to his son. More than that; he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"He is a good influence on you. More than that, he has given… no… he has shown me why I should have more faith in you. In all of you." The hand went away, but the warmth stayed. They finished their walk back to the Academy in silence.

"I had best see my familiar to the infirmary." His father nodded. It was right and proper. They parted ways there; the older man returning to his carriage and the younger taking the dwarf off to the increasingly familiar room. He'd visited it more times in the past week than he had in his entire time at the Academy.

The healer wasn't in, so Guiche sat beside his familiar on the bed while Saito went to find him. Louise had gone with her mother earlier, likely to have a quiet discussion on their own. Some minutes later a sound from the door made him look up; only to see his father standing in the doorway and clutching a long, wooden box. He marched over to his son; looking strangely nervous.

"Really, I've no idea why I brought this with me. I'd never expected to have cause to do this. However…" The box was pushed into Guiche's arms. It smelled vaguely familiar and brought back faint memories of a forgotten figure. "I do not think your brothers will begrudge this of me." Guiche opened it. Resting on the velvet pillows within was a beautifully crafted rapier. With some trepidation Guiche withdrew it from the box. It fitted well in his hand.

"It was your mother's, once; you have inherited more of her build than mine, I fear, but that merely means it will suit you well. Maximilien will inherit my father's wandblade instead, and be happy with that." Undoubtedly he would be. Guiche was… pleased wasn't the word. It wasn't merely well-made; it was a work of art. There was a sheath in the box as well. His father helped him secure it properly to the belt, and the blade slid quietly home.

"Suits you." It did, at that. The scabbard was covered with a white enamel, and the hilt was golden. Not true gold, of course, but it was meticulously adorned with the guard in a shape reminiscent of a rose. "She never told me where she got it." They stood there awkwardly for a time, until the General bowed his head and moved back.

"A discussion for another time. I'll be on my way, now. Send me invoices for anything your need and I'll take care of it." Guiche nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Soon enough his father was gone. He sat down heavily and rested his chin on his hands. What a day this had been.

"Well, tha' was touchin'." And then he nearly fell out of his chair as Kenneth suddenly sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. "Ah'm hungry. Let's raid th' kitchens, eh?" Suddenly the dwarf found himself with a stunned Guiche shoving his fingers in the short man's face.

"You! What! How! But you were!" Kenneth rolled his eyes as he pushed the hand out of the way so he could stand up and stretch a bit. His spine made horrible sounds when he leaned back as far as he could.

"Bah. S'long as ah've got one foot on the ground ah dun really care 'bout lightning strikes. 's what happens when yer dyin' and get put back t'gether by a frien'ly earth elemental." Which meant he'd been faking the entire time. Of course he had. That little… but Guiche's line of thought took a sharp turn as he came to wonder why his familiar had faked his defeat.

"Aye, ye've got th' right of it, boy. 'twere more important t'yer dad tha' he win than 'twere t'me. Ah know ah'm strong. He was workin' through some things." Guiche nodded dumbly. A burly hand patted him on the shoulder and his familiar grinned up at him. "It all worked out in th' end, eh? C'mon, ah'm starvin'."

With a heavy sigh, Guiche followed the retreating back of his impossible familiar out of the room.

 

[ChandraMagic]

The General focused on the others forming underneath him. He could feel the base structure, the actual 'Hydra', forming the next set of serpents, and the first one was only lightly damaged.

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Yeah, yeah, it's the last word, so I didn't need to quote wuite so much, but I wanted to give you decent about of text to do a search on. Letter in red needs to be added, by the by~

Fantastiic. The dwarf was fantastic.

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Letter in red should be removed.



ANd now, onto the meat of the chapter. Good work, good work. I would say more, but I'm tired and my brain is just throwing platitudes for me to say, so. Good job, write more. Awesome work, etc, etc.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Here's another retrospective.

Chapter Two:
Here's the big one! The main change around which I based the entire idea of this fic. In every single story you read for ZnT... well, for almost every one that is, Guiche's entire purpose is to be a stick by which to measure how superspecialawesome the latest overpowered jerk to be handed to Louise is.

You see I, like them, initially considered merely swapping in a new familiar for Louise and just... not doing that. But no! Instead I decided to make this story about Guiche and thus Dwarf of Bronze was born. So, let's go over a few things in here.

A bit of foreshadowing in the first segment there, plus some minor explanation of where Kenneth has come from. Having him mention his wife and Guiche legitimately react with sadness is... well, I don't know if you'd call it character development but it's a legitimate moment of humanisation for the blond fop.

Of course, we can't develop too far in one day so he's still rather contemptuous when Kenneth brings up smithing. Ah, Guiche, if you only knew.

There's a few things in the next segment that are also foreshadowing for something later on. I'll reference it again when we get to the retrospective for that chapter in case you're reading these after each specific chapter. Otherwise I'll just point out a few subtle touches you may have missed.

Guiche is irritated by a maid that reminds him of Saito, because they look similar. Following on your logic from canon, you can realize this is probably Siesta; since her and Saito both had a bit of Japanese ancestry. It's Kagati here, of course, but the same principle applies.

Another thing is that Guiche assumes, not entirely incorrectly, that he's been tattled on by the maid in question; that's why his reaction is unusually violent. If it seemed like more of an honest mistake he'd probably react more like he did in canon but, here, he assumes that Siesta lead Katie to him and Montmorency on purpose.

Then there is the alternative to the Guiche fight; namely, Kenneth beating the crap out of his master. He was a bit more violent in my first draft but I toned it down after I remember that if he didn't pull his punches he actually could kill Guiche with a single strike. In addition, this paragraph wasn't in the version first posted but was added later.

He turned his head away; feeling unworthy to meet his own familiar's eyes in that moment. Certainly, Kenneth was right. In his heart he had known that entertaining the affections of both girls was... improper. Father would likely have tanned his hide if he'd struck one of the maids at home, as well; so why would he ever do such a thing here at the Academy. His heart continued to shrivel in his chest as he let tears of self-loathing fall freely.

Click to shrink...

(Thanks again to Guile for that, too)

The reason that was added was to make his contrition a bit more genuine. Just having him go shame-faced and then Kenneth go "Ah kin see yer ashamed" was a bit too quick. I feel it improved the scene signifcantly.

Lastly, a bit of referencing to things I didn't want to actually write out in the letter home there and setting up for the action of the next four chapters. Stations of canon? Hahahaha, what're those!

Armand de Gramont's name was drawn from the historical inspiration for Guiche; that being Armand de Gramont, Comte de Guiche (Count of Guiche). He's described as being vain, overbearing and somewhat contemptuous; a description that suits both father and son but for very different reasons. His character was as fun to explore going forward as Karin was; but that's for later.

 

[macdjord]

It was just like fighting with an elf.

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Kenneth would be deeply offended by that comparison.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Kenneth would be deeply offended by that comparison.

Click to shrink...

Ah, don't make assumptions~

 

[GiftofLove]

So good. Digging the rapier, too. I know that the rose is a pretty common symbol in works of art, but it still feels as if it were made for Guiche.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Guiche was quite certain he'd never seen anyone able to pack in as much food as Kenneth. The sheer amount of morsels that he was able to devour in a single sitting was rather impressive. Entire roasts vanished down his gullet along with several gallons of ale. It was quite astounding.

"Ooooh, aye, tha' was just what ah needed. Y'not hungry, lad?" He shook his head. No, it was quite difficult to want anything after seeing his familiar eat. That would spoil anyone's appetite. He wasn't particularly messy, though, he just seemed to have infinite space and the ability to practically unhinge his jaw.

"You know, Ser Kenneth, you never quite explained what you meant about that elemental. Not the first time, or now." The dwarf paused mid-chomp on what appeared to be a full half a chicken. Guiche had initially no idea why they'd given him so much food until the dwarf had revealed that the school's funding was for a much larger body of students than they really had. Any excess was to be returned to the crown at the end of the year, so they didn't mind spending extra on food.

"Ah, ain't too much t'explain. Bunch o' jackasses broke inta a several t'ousand year ol' cavern an' shattered a bunch of flawless crystal formations. Ah tracked 'em down, brutally murdered 'em an' dragged their sorry carcasses back to th' cave." The very thought of such a thing, combined with his familiar's candid explanation, turned him a bit green.

"See, on Kelicho, elementals tend t'spawn in response t'nature bein' messed with. Earth're th' worst in my opinion. They're like them snakes yer pop pulled out t'day only about five times the size and a lot less friendly." Such a mental image was quite unreasonable. These 'elemental' things he'd described seemed akin to spirits, however, so he at least had a point of reference. Such creatures were notoriously fickle.

"But ah weren't quite on me best foot that day. One o' them cheeky bastards hit me with a gout o' Starlight afore ah went down." Guiche just had to raise an eyebrow at that, but Kenneth wagged a finger at him. "Ah know what ye're thinkin'. Trust me, ain't nobody sane on Kelicho as laughs at a Starlight mage. 's a nasty element t'work with; not as bad as some, but if y'slip up it'll kill ye just as same as the other guy. Case in point!"

By way of demonstration Kenneth, with some effort, managed to lift up his shirt. There was… it wasn't quite right to call it a scar. He'd never seen one so large before which made it hard to accept as being one. The flesh had gone leathery in a wide circle around the dwarf's stomach, and the centre was a dull brown colour and quite hard. If he'd had a belly button once it was long gone now.

"Tha' shit'll eat through a good inch of steel an' a foot o' stone wi'out slowin' down, and ah didn' have me current armour then. So ah well reckoned ah was gonna die." He hauled off his cloak and turned around, lifting up his vest at the back as well. There was a matching scar and strange discolouration. Smaller, certainly, but matching. Guiche pictured his familiar with the full wound, a hole seared clean through him, and had to resist the urge to retch a little.

"Aye, ye have th' right of it. Ah was a goner. But th' elemental, seems it recognized what ah'd done fer it. So it hacked out a lil' bit o' itself and shoved it inta me. Replaced me guts, an' ribs, an' spine an' whatnot. Feels weird, o' course, but ah can still eat an' piss an' all sorts o' other things ye needn't mind about, so seems it worked out." The ribald grin on Kenneth's face brought a flush of heat to Guiche's cheeks. He wasn't that young!

"Plus, o' course, it helped out me magic a fair bit. Movin' earth 's easy as breathin' now, s'long as ah'm in touch wi' it." As well he'd demonstrated against Guiche's father. "An', as ah said, s'long as m'feet are on th' ground ah'm near immune t'lightning. Stings somethin' fierce, though. Plus ah'm just generally tougher, stronger, nastier, an' such." It was difficult to imagine how much worse the dwarf could have gotten… but, then again, he'd only seen him after this.

"Very well, I think I understand. This sort of thing is common where you come from?" Somewhat to his surprise, the dwarf shook his head. Violently. He took another large draft of ale and pulled his cloak back on before answering.

"Nay, lad. Elementals… they dinnae like people. Earth one won't last; it'll just eat th' miners an' collapse th' mine that woke it up, then rejoin th' land. My people are good at workin' stone wi'out pissin' them off." A useful trait for what had been explained to him as a race of mountain-dwelling artisans. "Water ones're th' most tame. Generally they'll just take all sea life within a good twenty miles of where they formed an' fuck right off, for good. Tends t'desroy most seaside communities. They'll come back, eventually, but inna meantime yer basic fishin' village is toast."

Ah. Yes, he could see why that would happen. No food, sure, but also their livelihood destroyed when they lost their main commodity. "Air, well, tha's interestin'. Quite rare until recently, see? Y'still don't see a lot of 'em, but when y'do 's around Stalis. All them big buildings pumpin' shit out inta th' world. One day some mobile cyclone shows up an' tears e'rrythin' t'shreds and there y'go."

The description alone was horrifying. Guiche knew of such things as grand storms and waterspouts from tales his father's various friends had shared at the dinner table, but they were rare in Tristain. Indeed, fairly rare in the mainland of Halkegenia; you only heard of such things happening in far off lands. "Nature ain't so bad. They'll leave y'alone, right enough. But just imagine bein' in a forest, right?"

Guiche did so. It wasn't hard. "Now, imagine e'rry tree, plant, bush, branch an' anything leafy or green that y'lay eyes upon is tryin' to kill ye." There was a soft whimper from that he realized was coming from himself. His familiar chuckled deeply and polished off his drink.

"Ah, well. Ah'll nae scare y'any more. 'tain't productive. Ye've done well these past few days. Even stood up t'yer father. Seems y'might have earned his respect some, if ah'm any judge." The dwarf leaned over, eyeing the rapier on Guiche's belt. After a moment of embarrassment, Guiche realized what he was getting at.

"Oh, yes. Well. This was my mother's. He said it would suit me." Like a diligent student Guiche unbuckled the weapon and presented it to his familiar for inspection. Kenneth wiped his hands off on his shirt, and then on a nearby washcloth after Guiche gave him a hard look, before taking the weapon in hand and drawing it.

"Fuck me." The dwarf's eyes widened. "This is… this is carbonised adamant. Ah didn't even know y'had it here." But Guiche's look of confusion said more than he ever could, and Kenneth's look of surprise turned to one of suspicion. He raised the sword up and, before Guiche could so much as cry out for him to stop, drove it directly into the ground.

It punched right through the flagstone beneath it with barely more than a whisper of metal on stone. Guiche gaped silently as Kenneth withdrew it and began to study it more carefully. "Adamant's tricky t'work with. More 'f a crystal than a metal. Carbonising it is best; makes it nigh indestructible. Good for stabbing weapons. Channels magic, too, an' real good at that. Probably works for yer sort quite well, ah'd imagine. Gotta make ye a proper set…"

He trailed off into silence as he stared at the hilt. It was truly beautiful; a work of art. Delicately crafted leaves became petals and formed the rose-shape that became the pommel. Even then it wasn't gilded or filigreed; just good metal polished until it shone. Nevertheless, the dwarf sat there in silence. Eventually Guiche moved over and patted his arm.

"... Ser Kenneth?" No response. He tried again, somewhat more forcefully. "Kenneth! Are you alri-..." The words died in his mouth as he finally saw it. Thick, heavy tears pouring down his familiar's face. This was… he had no words for it. Unprecedented seemed too mild a term. Then the dwarf opened his mouth and the words that came out were hoarse and pained.

"My wife is going to make this." That was all he said. Guiche didn't understand it. He stared blankly for a time and, when that didn't work, allowed himself a tentative work.

"You mean, she made…?" Slowly, ever so slowly, Kenneth shook his head. Then he rotated the blade so Guiche could see what he was looking at. The maker's mark, carefully engraved on the inside of the guard in runes that the young noble couldn't read.

"That's her name. Red. Just her name. She was never ostentatious with ones like these. Felt it… it diminished the work. Name and date; so it was known who made it, and when." A sinking feeling gathered in Guiche's chest. Kenneth had said… "The date is some ten years distant from when ah… ah left."

Oh, by the Founder. This… this was very bad. Guiche didn't understand how, or why, or any of those things. He just knew that something horrible had just happened. "Ah… ah had a suspicion this might be th' case. Didn't ask th' boy th' year he left. Didn't want t'know. But if this… this is... " When his familiar looked up at him Guiche thought his heart might have stopped.

He'd seen that face only once before now, and it had been that very same day. It had existed, for the briefest moment, on the face of his father when he'd spoken of… of a woman that Guiche had never known. It spoke of a pain that was beyond his comprehension. All he could do was lay a hand on the squat figure's shoulder. It didn't feel like it was enough.

"She didn't make this with my help. Ah can tell. Might mean ah got back, an' was away again. But like as not, yer world an' mine ain't connected properly. Even if ah ever do get home… best odds is that she'll either have been dead for centuries, or ain't even born yet." He slid the rapier back into its sheath and offered it to Guiche. After a moment's hesitation the young man took it from him.

They remained there in silence for some time; a tableau of suffering. After a moment, Guiche tried to speak. To find the words he needed to say more than anything else in this moment.

"Kenneth, I-" A hand wrapping around his throat caught him off guard and cut him off at the same time. Two bloodshot eyes, stained with loss, glared at him through the mess of red hair around Kenneth's face.

"Don't. You. Dare." The tone was low, and truly harsh. His familiar had struck him, laid him low and berated him for his callous actions and even in those moments he hadn't sounded so… so hateful as this. "Ain't your fault, boy. Ah realize that, intellectually speakin', y'didn't choose me. But ah think that, in this moment, ye'd best just turn around an' walk out of this room 'cause if ye say another damn word ah might just gut ye where ye stand. Got it?"

He couldn't nod, but Kenneth released him anyway. Guiche landed heavily, coughing up a fit, but didn't stay where he was. Instead he pulled himself to his feet and left the room. The last he saw of his familiar that night was the dwarf cracking open another barrel of ale, and not even bothering with a tankard.


Dwarf of Bronze: End of Act One

 

[GiftofLove]

Well... someone had to bring that sword over . . . ?

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Well... someone had to bring that sword over . . . ?

Click to shrink...

Canon says otherwise. Whole lot of otherworld artifacts just sort of wandered through on their own.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Aside: What If? Alternate Kelicho Summons
The first sign that Louise had something had gone wrong was the explosion. She was used to things blowing up when she tried to cast spells. This time, however, there had been an added dimension. A wave of warmth that had washed over her that, nevertheless, somehow left her feeling cold.

"Please, Professor," she began to plead, "let me try agai-..." The words died on her mouth as a shape rose up in the dust. There was something there after all. Professor Colbert leaned forward with great interest, eager to see what curious thing had been drawn forth with such force. Yet the first thing spoken by one of the students as the dust cleared seemed it might have been accurate.

"Zero! Don't go blowing up visitors to the Academy!" Some shrill voice had called out the insult as the shape resolved itself into a figure in rather nice, if somewhat tattered, clothing. It certainly looked like it had once been regal. At first the Professor hurried to check on the person but he suddenly came to a halt with the colour draining rapidly from his face.

Exposed muscles shifted around surprisingly intact yet horribly bloodstained teeth. Two sunken eye sockets somehow managed to glare despite the desiccation inherent to the flesh. Green fires that burned in place of eyes and shone through cracks in the taut, dry skin. A monster.

"Who among you has called me?"

The sentence was more like an unholy hiss. Years of hatred seeped through in the forceful, sibilant tone. Everything about that voice implied an owner that was precisely as horrible as such a sound warranted. Yet even so the ability to speak implied intelligence and the strangeness of the thing implied a summoned entity.

It looked impatient. So, with great trepidation, Louise stepped forward. The creature turned away from the Professor at the sound of her step and turned its baleful gaze upon her. She found herself frozen in place; mesmerised by the flickering of the fires. They seemed to grow harsher as the thing drew itself up to its full height and stalked closer to her.

"Ignorant creature. Uncomprehending of your folly." It did not lower itself to her level to speak to her, but rather seemed to revel in talking down to her in every possible way. "Speak." She couldn't make a sound. Those burning eyes had paralysed her. Even if she was capable she had no idea what he wanted.

"Please, sir… oh!" The entity rounded on Colbert. He had his staff clutched before him with both hands and was visibly sweating as he tried to edge around towards Louise. Other students had started to back off, although nobody wanted to be the first to run. "Ah… y-you are in the Tristain Academy of Magic, and appear to have been called here by this student's attempt at the Familiar Summoning Ritual."

That was, perhaps, the wrong thing to say. The creature did not move suddenly but rather simply rotated in place to look at him. As soon as he was facing away one of the other students, at their teacher's direction, moved up to grab Louise under the arms and drag her away from the visage of horror standing amongst them.

"You thought to call upon a King as if he were a dog." The dull glow under the skin intensified into a fierce green light shining through the cracks in the thing's death mask. Colbert felt his skin grow colder as he stepped back; trying not to look directly at the students he'd spoken to mere moments ago. "Return me to my homeland, and your punishment shall be lightened."

His grasp tightened further. It was obvious that this monster wasn't something reasonable. Telling it that there was no way at all to return it home would not go down well. Moreover, its mere appearance was that of an abomination. The Professor made the call.

"Go!" At his shout five students, all Earth-aligned, spoke their simple incantations, stacked up the one 'earth' that they could muster and pointed their wands at the ground. It burst out in triangular planes that slammed into each other to form a rough crucible around the thing with one side open; facing their teacher.

Fire-Fire-Water-Fire. There was no need for subtlety, no time for restraint. He spat out the incantation like a bolt of lightning; decades of practice paying dividends in the speed of that one spell. From his staff a blinding surge of flame emerged that went straight into the crucible with a core so hot as to be nearly white. Unable to get out the way it came the fire swirled within the structure and the temperature exploded upwards even with the stone in the way.

He would keep it up until his Willpower was fully depleted, or the sides of the crucible melted. Preferably the former; although the latter would come first. Yet, even over the roar of fire surging out from him, he heard something. Soft. Sinister. Hateful.

"With this, you would protect them?" Something flickering a sickly green moved within. As a shape emerged from the doorway he had to tone back on the blast lest it spill out and incinerate the students. His spell cut off left only a thick line of burning where it had passed over the ground and set it alight.

Square-Class Fire Magic; Clinging Inferno. It was slightly less powerful than a simple spell of four stacked fire elements but, with the added water, it gained truly horrific properties that allowed it to stick like glue to whatever it was laid upon. Including the burning creature calmly walking through a field of flames towards him.

But no… it was not burning. The fire was. Where it touched the skin of the monster it turned green and then ate away at the conflagration that clung to it. Colbert could feel nothing in that moment but rising horror; whereas the thing walking to him radiated an air of… menace, certainly, but the disappointment was almost palpable.

"With this, you would protect them." It repeated itself. Not questioning, this time. "So small is your world, so brief your understanding." It raised one hand and held it out. The fire around it shifted; the dancing flames pointing toward the outstretched palm. "You clutch at a candle, and think it the sun."

Every fire remaining surged across the ground and was drawn into the grasp of the King. It curled into a tight ball no larger than an apple. Then it was crushed. The last wisp dissolved into nothingness. As compared to the roar of fire from before the silence was utterly deafening.

It was so close, now. The green fires dancing across its skin, retreating between the cracks into the dark core that powered whatever this monstrosity was. Colbert raised his staff again; stacked Air and Water and unleashed a chilling blast that did absolutely nothing to slow the advance of the thing. It didn't even seem to notice.

A bony hand shot out as the last few metres were quite suddenly crossed. The students saw their teacher lifted into the air by his neck. He twitched in place, writhing in place. Something was happening to his skin; it was growing tight and dry and suddenly turning black. The fingers grasping it applied just the slightest of pressure to it and, quite suddenly, the body fell to the ground.

Colbert's head rested on top of the King's hand; its last expression a twisted rictus of agony that rapidly faded as it quickly became dust streaming between fingers. Just like that the spell of terror was broken and panic set in. Many students turned to run, screaming. Others did not.

One brave soul called forth a set of metal golems and sent them straight at the monster. In response it simply raised a hand and conjured a small ball of the horrible green fire. It flicked across the distance, passing through one of the mobile armours on the way, and landed at the boy's feet.

A pillar of green fire surged upwards from the point of impact; consuming the brave child utterly. His creations collapsed on the spot, all mobility lost to them, as he vanished from sight. Unfortunately he soon reappeared; striding out of the flames.

His eyes burned green; the actual substance having been consumed by the flames that visibly surged under his skin. In deference to silent orders flowing from his King he retrieved one of the weapons his fallen golems left behind. Green fires danced down his arm and across the sword's blade as he marched off to secure the gate against escape.

A spear of ice from the sky narrowly avoided pinning the King to the ground; he'd moved aside at the last moment. Above a blue dragon circled at a great distance as the figure on its back flung spike after spike of ice down at the monster killing her teachers and fellow students.

"A dragon?" The King murmured to himself as a disc of green fire formed in the air before him. What few spikes were fully on target as he moved away from his point of arrival struck the disc and were consumed by the unholy flames. He eyed the dragon and then, slowly, raised a hand with a grasping motion.

Above, Tabitha was preparing another grand javelin when Sylphid suddenly jerked in the air. Before she could ask her familiar what was wrong the young dragon nosedived. They struck the ground with a thunderous force; she'd only barely had a moment to cast a quick Levitation upon herself to lessen the damage of the impact, and no time at all to do anything her familiar.

Sylphid bucked violently and Tabitha was flung off; spinning and hitting the ground in spite of her spell. As she watched in horror her dragon, screaming in agony, threw up green fire. There was a sickly glow in her chest and she could feel the sudden, irrevocable shattering of the familiar bond as the juvenile dragon's eyes burned out with a gout of green flame.

Tabitha tried to raise her staff, but her arm was broken. Gritting her teeth she forced herself to grasp the tool with her other hand and compose a spell. The thing that had been Sylphid, once, had caught sight of her. Without hesitation she fired directly at her former familiar; piercing it directly through the heart with the first shot.

The dragon didn't even slow its leap.

Across the way the King watched with approval as his newest acquisition tore the upper half off of the annoyance that had dared to try attack him. It had almost been a worthwhile effort. He then directed the dragon wight to take off and kill anything that tried to leave the grounds. It set off immediately; leaving behind the remains of the corpse.

Some ancient fool had come out and had been about to wave some sort of bell at him before a line of green fire had lanced out from his finger and punched right through the old man's heart. He'd animated a moment later and joined the growing ranks of fire-eyed creatures stalking the grounds.

The King stopped, head turning to one side; his prey had been located.

Elsewhere, a large breasted young woman with dark skin and lush, red hair stood in front of a much smaller, pink-haired girl. Up against them was the reanimated bodies of a number of their classmates. Kirche could recognize a few of her old lovers in the press of bodies.

Whatever these things were fire was largely ineffective. They burned a little, certainly, but the energies animating them quickly consumed the flames. She'd had to resort to Air spells to blast them back and her Willpower wouldn't last. When that ran out, her and Louise would both die.

The group of monsters stopped trying to push against her gust and suddenly moved out of the way. Kirche took that moment to catch her breath; right up until it caught in her throat instead. The hooded figure that had instigated all of this, the one that had referred to itself as the 'King' of these creatures, had walked out in front of them.

He didn't say anything. That was what was supposed to happen, what would have happened in all of her stories. The villain would have said something like, 'Give me the girl and I will let you live', and then she could say something defiant and brave. She didn't feel defiant. Or brave. Just desperate.

She wouldn't give up without a fight, though. Kirche swung her wand at the oncoming monstrosity and unleashed a gust of wind. Hopefully she could at least hold if off.. maybe long enough for Louise to escape.

Her hopes didn't last long. The King raised a hand and her gust of wind died. Then he flicked his bony wrist and a blast of cold air thrice the strength of her slammed her into the wall instead. He held her there with one hand as he walked towards the terrified Louise. Kirche tried desperately to tell her to run, to flee, to save herself but she couldn't get the words out against the rushing wind.

The last she saw was the hand approaching her face.

Louise saw more. She saw her old tormentor's skin turn taut and black as the hand pushed effortlessly into it. Saw the body sag as life left it and then jerk into motion again as green fire filled it. He pulled his hand back and the remnants of Kirche turned to face her; only there was no face, now, just an inferno of wrongness that stared at her without eyes.

"See now the sins of your fathers made manifest. What they must have done... for a fate such as this." She seemed to have fallen down because it was standing over her. The hands that she'd seen kill her teacher and… and her friend… they weren't reaching for her yet. Silence was not an option this time; this was not a patient creature.

"I… I am Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, monster! And you are no agent of god, nor of his judgement!" A last show of defiance before it rendered her flesh into dust just as it had the others. Before it raised her body in a mockery of life and sent it to help kill her classmates and her teachers.

"A creature of some breeding? Perhaps you are not without worth." It reached out and, against her will, she screamed. But the hand didn't bite into her flesh and dissolve her body; it hauled her to her feet and shoved her into the grasp of her old friend. "You brought me here; eventually, you shall send me back. I have obligations I must fulfil." It turned and walked away, Kirche's body dragging her after it. She still felt warm.

"Do not mistake me; I need you to be alive, not intact. Should you attempt to thwart my designs I will ensure that the moment of your demise is stretched across an eternity." As they moved through the Academy she could see the battle continuing. If you could call it that. The creatures were fast and strong; they leapt upon her fellow students and, once they were held down, breathed green fire into their faces.

After the first time she saw a writhing, screaming student have his eyes burned out until he stopped struggling and just calmly stood up again Louise stopped looking. Just scrunched her eyes shut as tight as possible and did her best to pretend she was somewhere else. As they arrived in the courtyard once more there were even more of the things coming out. Some of them were carrying bodies. She shut her eyes again.

"Avert not your gaze, child." They snapped open again as the lead monster addressed her; looking at him with horror. "Attempt to look away again and I shall be forced to remove your eyelids." He held his hands out and darkness boiled into existence around them. It poured out and across the lines of bodies; flowing into mouths and ears and noses and open wounds. The bodies began to shudder violently before slowly rising to their feet.

"A pathetic lot. Resources are scarce in this place; so we must not waste them." Her classmates… her teachers… he thought of them as nothing more than a thing to be used up. This monstrosity that she'd unleashed upon the world was… oh, if only she had her wand. A wand. Anyone's wand.

There was a thunderous sound as a dragon suddenly landed beside them; Louise recognized it as one of the other student's familiar. Or former familiar at least, given the burning eyes. It dropped half a corpse on to the pile of bodies then bowed its head to its master. With a faintly pleased air he moved up on to its neck and stepped aboard.

"Come along." The monster holding her passed her up to the other monster on the back of the dragon. She laid flat and tried to grasp on to the dragon as its wings beat; the alternative was staying behind or, Founder forbid, trying to hold on the demonic invader. The beast they were riding took off into the sky.

They hovered far above the academy as he surveyed the landscape. After a minute or so he turned to gaze upon her where she clung, terrified, to the back of the dragon. "You will tell me which way I must travel to reach your Capitol." She raised a nervous arm to point the way and they set off at great speed.

"Such a beautiful world you have. What power it has brought me. I don't expect one so limited as you to comprehend." Much to Louise's surprise she could still hear him. Despite the way the beast's speed devoured the distance the ride was comfortable. She could see something happening in the way the clouds parted ahead of them. Wind magic on a scale she could barely comprehend.

The capitol was up ahead As they approached she could see some shapes rising from the castle and coming to intercept. "What great fortune has been given me. To have even a single dragon has been an ambition of mine and now they are giving me many." More than dragons; there was a griffon as well. For a moment Louise dared to hope that she might be, if not rescued, at least delivered from her fate.

Then they grew close enough to see the riders and the King reached out his hand to them. One by one the flying creatures began to twist in the air; bodies contorting in pain as they dropped to the ground far below. She didn't see them land but, soon enough, ghastly caricatures of the once-proud beasts had risen to fly beside them. None of them had riders any more.

As they landed in the courtyard bolts of fire and ice streaked across the distance to try and bring them low; only to be intersected by a swirling disc of green flames that consumed the spells. Darts of the stuff flew out in retaliation; they burned directly through clothes and armour to consume the mage underneath. Once all resistance in the front courtyard had been reduced to subservient monsters their leader finally dismounted.

One of his creatures came over to grab Louise; he obviously didn't trust her not to do anything stupid. She was half-led, half-carried in the wake of the King as he ascended the stairs towards the place. What few soldiers tried to stop them quickly joined his ranks and set off to encircle the castle. His flying creatures took off and headed outwards; circling the city above. A single mage effortlessly crushing the entire Royal Guard.

The doors only held for a moment. Instead of his usual green fire he flicked out three lines of a shining white light that melted straight through the metal at the hinges and destroyed the bar laid across the middle. They collapsed into the hall with a thunderous crash only matched by the loud retort of volleyed muskets on the other side.

Louise was unharmed; but, for the first time, she saw the King struck. Bullets penetrated his clothing with little gouts of green fire coming out where his skin was broken. Shortly thereafter the King raised a contemptuous hand toward the three lines of Musketeers in the room beyond. A wall of unholy flames formed behind them, and then in front of them. Louise could see the one in front slowly growing larger.

The screaming lasted quite a long time. Slowly, shambling figures emerged from the inferno and took up their position behind the King. Most were more damaged than she'd seen before. When the last one stepped forth he dismissed the flames and continued his advance.

He blew the doors to the throne room off with a flick of a hand and a clap of thunder that made Louise's ears ring. His horde surged into the room and quickly overwhelmed what few guards remained inside. The Queen tried to look brave from where she sat but didn't quite manage it. She tried to address him. It didn't do any good.

He didn't even bother to move her out of the way. She stood up to try and confront him as he climbed the stairs to her throne and he just walked into her. In an instant her body, her clothes, everything she was broke apart as the King moved through her and took his place on the throne. The only evidence there had ever been a Queen at all was the cloud of collapsing dust falling to the ground in his wake.

He hadn't killed the guards in the room yet. They were being held down by his monstrosities. Forced to watch as he'd destroyed their Queen without a second thought. Or even any thought at all. It was like he hadn't even noticed she was there.

"Know now; the reign of mortal fools is ended. I, Azak Ruya, King of Banefire, am your new ruler." He raised an arm in an imperious gesture, his creatures releasing those still-living. "You shall be loyal, in one form or another. I am sure that you can comprehend that much." Warily, the soldiers cast glances at each other. Once the first one dropped to a knee the remainder following suit was inevitable.

"Perhaps you can taught after all. My Wights are sealing the city now. You shall bring anyone of any importance to me at once; the ones beside you shall assist. To ensure there is no… miscommunication." Ruya leaned back in his throne, enjoying the splendour. It had been some time since he'd had so grand a seat.

"There are many changes I will need to discuss with them." Ah, yes. Certainly his priority was to return to Kelicho as quickly as possible. However, while he was in this pathetic world he might as well enjoy it. There seemed to be great potential for that.

 

[Strunkriindiisk]

Well.

WELL.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Just one sample of something Louise could've called from Kenneth's homeworld instead.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

The person responsible for Kenneth's world, and my good friend, did a thing! You should read it.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

"Kill! Not a bad shot, boy."

Saito fell back, pressing one hand to his chest as Kenneth looked on approvingly. Guiche straightened his stance back to the ready position and grinned at his familiar. After a week of sparring he'd scored his first decisive hit against his sparring partner. From the sidelines, Louise and Montmorency booed and cheered respectively; the former disparaging her own familiar and the latter supporting her beloved.

Guiche gave a flourish and a bow; only to be caught in the stomach by a sharp kick from Saito that knocked him down and on to his back. The young man dropped to one knee and slammed his knuckle dagger into the ground beside his head. "And that'd be a kill as well." Montmorency pouted.

"That's not fair! He wasn't ready. Hmph." She got up and moved over, wand already out, to begin healing Guiche's bruises; although not the deeper injuries. Kenneth had asked a bunch of questions she didn't really understand about how healing worked and then forbidden her from fixing any soreness or damage to the young man's muscles; he'd been taking these foul-smelling potions the dwarf brewed up instead.

"Bah. If he's in a real fight then th' next guy won't just wait for him to be ready! Well… except when they do, but if'n that's the case then he's already won the battle." Guiche winced slightly as the memory of being forced to do battle against all six of his basic Valkyries simultaneously came back to him; his familiar had said the point was to make an abject lesson as to the nature of real combat. Even if they'd only been using sticks that had still really hurt.

"Nevertheless, it was a fair blow Master Gramont." Saito stepped forward to pat the young man on the shoulder, idly tapping at his chest. "By the sharp pain I'm feeling I suspect that sir's real weapon would have likely penetrated my spine." Ah… yes. The ridiculously sharp sword that was currently being held by Kenneth; he'd offered to keep it until Guiche actually needed it.

It was a point he hadn't contested. Even if there was a certain attachment to it in his heart the sheer value of the item meant he felt it was safer in his familiar's hands. If there was a being in this world capable of taking it off Kenneth then Guiche really, really did not want to meet them.

In many ways it didn't feel like it had been nearly two weeks since the Familiar Summoning Ceremony. There had been very few changes to his physique, apart from a slight yet noticeable widening in his waistline. He'd complained about that at first; only to have the horrified realization that doing such might make his Familiar give him an extra ten laps in his morning run or what have you.

His brief fears were completely unfounded, however. Kenneth had merely nodded approvingly and continued with the routine without any deviation. In fact, the only adjustments he'd made to Guiche's daily exercises so far was to decrease them from time to time. He had no idea why, but suspected it had something to do with how Saito was keeping a hawk-like eye on him almost constantly during the day.

When he'd tried asking his familiar about it there had been something about rest periods and micro-tears and overstressing and then his eyes had just sort of glazed over until the dwarf's mouth had stopped moving. The only bit he'd heard was Kenneth's rather insistent demand that he not attempt to train any on his own.

"... Montmorency." His beloved flower turned and gave Louise a typically arch look. Guiche winced a little; she was quite dissatisfied with how close he'd been growing to the pink-haired girl. Although he'd tried telling her that it was nothing like that he couldn't precisely explain why he'd grown fond of her.

"Yes, Ze-" The words died in her throat before she could finish the insult. Saito had subtly stepped into her line of sight and she turned a little whiter in response. There had been a few… displays recently. Just the other day an older student had, as a 'joke', launched some food at Louise with a simple air spell.

Saito had snatched a steak knife off the table and speared it out of the air with a quick throw. Some were still talking about it in hushed tones; his legend had only grown once the display of archery last week had become common knowledge. There had been some suggestions that he wasn't a true familiar at all, but some foreign mercenary or assassin hired by the family to masquerade as Louise's summon.

His friend was thoroughly unamused by the suggestions, although her familiar was taking them in stride. He'd even confided in Guiche somewhat when he'd informed him that his skills weren't anything to speak of in his homeland; the greatest bowmen were the apparently titanic Northern Azekarans who supposedly stood over two metres tall on average and used tremendous greatbows that could reliably hit targets up to half a kilometre distant.

That had been the day that Guiche finally realized just how warped the scale of 'skill' that Saito and Kenneth used were. His familiar's frequent statements of 'not bad' or 'just about passable' were thus suddenly transformed in his ears to 'good' and 'outstanding' respectively. If Kenneth ever legitimately said that he was good then he was sure that his performance would have likely surpassed his father's.

Well, maybe not quite that bad. Even so! He'd only been sparring for Saito for an hour or so after classes ended each day. The young man had no formal melee training whatsoever but he was fast and strong. He fought by instinct only, not training, and Kenneth said that made him a perfect starting partner; the majority of his opponents would have little to no formal training.

The issue was retraining Guiche's instincts. Really, it was more just plain training them; he had no particular instincts to speak of. Apart from an ingrained instinct to stick his arms in front of his face when something was coming for it that Kenneth had thoroughly trained out of him by swinging random punches for his head during the course of the week.

As Louise badgered Montmorency into healing her familiar too Guiche had a brief moment of existential terror as he suddenly understood, with perfect clarity, what his life had become. Then he bowed to his opponent and walked over to Kenneth.

"Yer done for the afternoon, then?" Surprisingly, the question was legitimate. He was perfectly willing to let Guiche keep fighting for as long as he liked since he'd just adjust the warm-down exercises accordingly. It was up to him to know his own limits; another important lesson hard learned on the first day of practice. By the time he'd finally said he'd had enough the sun had gone down and they'd missed dinner.

That had been an… interesting evening.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

"Ser Kenneth, I'm not sure this is such a good idea." The dwarf was dragging him directly towards the kitchens for their late dinner. Guiche was keenly aware of just how out of place he was in the servants' areas, even if he was currently caked in dirt and sweat. There was just a gap between the classes here that he felt rather uncomfortable about.

That is to say, Saito was certainly a fine servant and all but he… well, he seemed to know where he stood. At his core the young man understood the way of the world and his position within it. That made him, well, nonthreatening. He was vaguely aware that there existed those who resented the position of the Nobility, however, and that knowledge made him feel increasingly out of place as they grew nearer to the kitchen.

Kenneth was perfectly at home in every situation, though. He responded to most social mores by completely ignoring them and instituting his own strange code of behaviour in their place. That seemed to endear him to the commoners, given the boisterous reply he got from the cook as he called out to him on their entry.

"Kenneth! Well met again! Here to eat me out of house and home once more?" The man turned and, with a quick swipe of his massive cleaver, carved a leg off a pork roast. His blade looked brand new, and it shone with a luster that Guiche recognized as being the strange steel that his familiar brewed up in his magical crucible. Then, as the cook brought the leg over with a tankard of ale, he caught sight of Guiche.

The reaction wasn't what he'd expected. Really, he'd expected a transition from jovial to overly polite. Instead he got an angrily pointed finger and a hateful scowl. "What," He began, through gritted teeth, "is he doing here?" The man pushed forward and glared at the young noble. "I'll not have him in my kitchen!" Kenneth stuck an arm out to block the rather large person's path and shot him a look.

"Easy, Marteau; easy. He dinnae mean ye any harm." That didn't seem to mollify the chef at all. He was clutching at his cleaver so hard that his knuckles were turning white around the handle. Guiche felt justifiably terrified by the outpouring of antagonism.

"Ah… uh… please, good sir, I've no idea wh-" He didn't even finish the sentence before he'd had to leap back when the man tried to charge forward with a furious yell. Of course hs familiar had easily blocked the charge, but even so! The servant had just tried to assault him. "Kenneth! Why… you… don't just stand there! I demand yo-"

"Boy." He froze, mid-demand. "Easy. Same goes for you, Marteau. Tha' were a damn fool thing ye just did." The chef had gone paler, certainly, but the veins poking out of his forehead still indicated how furious he was. Guiche had never seen anyone quite so angry.

"He… he don't even care what he's done! Y'know I have nothing but respect for you but that little bastard ain't welcome anywhere near my kitchen. I've got daughters in here, Kenneth." The dwarf's shoulders sagged, and he shot a look back at Guiche. Then, with one powerful arm, he pushed the chef back down into his seat.

"Take a nip o' yer tonic, Marteau, an' a few deep breaths. Ah'll take th' boy out an' have a few words with him. When we get back in ye will be calm, an' ye'll listen to what he has to say." After a tense moment the chef allowed for a terse nod, and Kenneth dragged Guiche out of the kitchen by way of the back door.

The first thing that the young man did once they were outside was immediately attempt to storm off in a huff. He was stopped by a firm grasp on his shoulder before he got any distance. "An' where d'you think yer goin', boy?" The young man spun on his heel and flung his hands in the air.

"To the Headmaster, to get that brute ejected from his position! He tried to attack me! I demand you let go of me this instant, Kenneth!" Rather than loosen the dwarf's grip just tightened on his shoulder. Not enough to be painful, but certainly enough to hold him in place.

"No, y'ain't." Guiche found himself flung over Kenneth's shoulder, again, and carried away amidst his furious protests until they reached one of the various courts. He was dropped down into a seat, and then Kenneth shouldered off his slab before taking one as well. The noble glared at him. "Cut tha' out. All o' this outrage an' ye ain't e'en considered the why of it, boy."

The statement brought Guiche up short. His initial retort, that any 'why' was irrelevant when a servant tried to harm a noble, died on his tongue. He wracked his brain, trying to think what could have caused such vitriol; Kenneth wouldn't have stopped him if it wasn't important, surely? The particulars of what had been said reverberated in his brain.

"... what, is this about that servant girl?" His familiar sighed, and he shied away a little. Usually that sigh preceded either a lecture or a forceful behavioural correction. Alternatively known as a smack about the head. Guiche waved vaguely in the direction of the kitchens. "I don't see why he should be so mad at me for it." Kenneth sighed again, resting his face in his hand.

"Ye've come a long way, boy. Ah gotta remind meself of that sometimes. Particularly when ah hear some of th' ignorant shite that comes out of yer mouth." Guiche bristled at the words, still not grasping what his familiar was trying to get at, when a gauntleted hand was held up to still him. "Ah shan't try an' make ye question th' foundation of yer society. Ye ain't nearly ready for that just yet. However..."

He found himself fixed with a hard look again. Guiche hated these moments, where Kenneth reminded him in so many ways of his father. Usually the dwarf did his best to make him feel... large. Like he was worth something. But in these moments, when his disapproval radiated out of that gaze, Guiche just felt so small.

"Nobility obliges, boy. By th' very rights ye lay claim to in order t'punish tha' man, ye owe him a duty to him an' his as well. Yer word could more'n ruin him; if he loses his job tha'd be th' least o' it, an 'e knows it." There was something unsaid in there. Guiche did his best to piece together the message kept between the words. Crickets began to fill the silence around them.

"... oh." He looked up at his familiar, concern forming on his face. For the man's rage to overwhelm his caution… "What... what has happened to her?" Kenneth granted him a look of slight respect, the weight of his judgment lifting off his young charge.

"She's traumatized, boy. They reassigned her t' the women's wing exclusively 'cause she's terrified 've menfolk now. Tha' dinnae exactly paint a stellar picture o' ye." Guiche rankled at the implications of that. He'd not done anything so vulgar to her as… as that. Certainly, he was aware that some lesser Nobles were said… to… ah. Realization dawned in his face, and Kenneth nodded.

"Aye, ye have it lad. She dinnae wish t'speak of it, an' ah've nae said anythin' to 'em. So they've assumed th' worst of ye. An', fact o' th' matter is tha' ye still attacked her o'er a trifling matter." Once more the young man bristled at his familiar's statements. He had, perhaps, been somewhat heavy-handed with the girl but he was certainly within his rights to be! Yet… something about the dwarf's disapproving gaze made him feel that thought process wasn't right.

Kenneth sighed, shaking his head. Then he leaned forward and patted Guiche on the shoulder. "Yer young. An' yer still learnin', ah wager. Ah cannae expect ye t'come to th' right path on yer own. That'd be unfair on ye. What sorta person would berate someone fer not following a code o' ethics they ain't never been exposed to?" Guiche nodded, slowly.

"I am afraid that I do not understand your meaning, no. But I should like to try to; as it would seem whatever I have done wrong has caused you to lose respect for me." That was about all he could say on the matter. Whatever it was that his familiar was trying explain simply escaped him.

"Aye, fair enough. Ah'll put it to ye plain; ye disrespected that young lady's personage, an' then thought nothin' of it again 'cause she weren't a noble. Ye never would do such a thing to th' likes of Montmorency, or Louise. An' tha's not right." Guiche stared blankly at him for a few moments. Well, the dwarf was half right? Of course he wouldn't do that to them. They were proper ladies, and deserved far better treatment.

Kenneth saw the noncomprehension in his face and shook his head slowly. "Look. Y'did wrong. Ah am tellin' ye so. Tha' means yer gonna come with me and apologize as sincerely as y'can do, an' we'll leave it at tha' fer now. Okay?" Slowly, Guiche nodded. Perhaps he didn't uderstand the situation at all but he certainly respected Kenneth's judgement. After what he'd put the dwarf through, having to lose to his father and all, he certainly owed him this much at least.

The two returned to a much quieter, calmer kitchen. The cook still looked a little red faced, but it seemed to be from the nip of tonic as opposed to blinding fury. Kenneth began the dialogue this time. "Now, Marteau, ah'll tell ye plain; 'tain't what yer thinkin' at all. Th' boy did wrong by the girl, but not tha' wrong. He ain't the sort. An' ah know this fer a fact 'cause ah saw it, and ah stopped him afore he struck 'er."

Although the large man still appeared quite upset he was at least somewhat mollified by that. Kenneth shot a look at Guiche, the forcefulness of his brief glare impressing the importance of true sincerity on the young man. He stepped passed his familiar, swallowing hard. If Kenneth could suppress his pride as a warrior for the sake of his pupil, then he would do the same for the sake of hs teacher.

Guiche bowed to the servant.

"I apologise for my ignoble conduct. Through my actions I have brought shame upon myself, my family name, and the very meaning of nobility. I pray that you can find it in your heart to forgive my thoughtless actions." There was absolute silence. He could've heard a pin drop. After a long pause he finally straightened up, as his back was starting to ache a little.

The cook was staring at him, slack-jawed, in abject amazement. Guiche turned to look behind him. Kenneth was grinning from ear to ear, looking more proud than he'd ever seen him before. The dwarf stepped up and clapped him firmly on the back, quite nearly knocking him over.

"So, Marteau, how 'bout some proper grub, eh?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Once the chef had recovered from his shock it had actually been a pleasant evening. He'd said he would carry Guiche's apology on to the servant girl, whose name was apparently Siesta of Tarbes. Not long after that he'd learned that the only man she could really stand right now was Saito, for some reason, and that had made his blood run cold.

He glanced over at the retreating back of the impeccable servant. Yes, Guiche was extremely glad that Saito didn't seem to be capable of holding grudges, because he was terrifying enough when he was trying to be helpful.

"Yes, Ser Kenneth, I am done for the afternoon. Shall we?" He assumed the position for his proper warm-down stretches as Kenneth began to narrate the proper routine for him. Then it'd be a dose of that foul potion the familiar made, and finally they could go to dinner. Oh, and he could have a bath. He only had time for one a day, now, although Kenneth would douse him with cold water after his morning exercises to get the smell out.

Guiche shuddered. For as grateful as he was for his familiar's help the man was still an absolute barbarian. As he considered this, something caught his eye. Curious. A carriage he didn't recognize was being brought through the gates. An impeccably dressed man with a rather nice ruffled collar stepped out and began an imperious stride across the grounds. He cast a snide look down his nose at Guiche as he passed on the path, and turned away as if smelling something bad.

The young man felt rather insulted by that. Whomever this visitor may be, they were a good five metres away on the path and the wind was blowing towards him, not away. Hmph. He got up from his stretches just in time to see Headmaster Osmond coming out of the main building to greet the guest. Kenneth frowned faintly.

"Ey, boy. Y'know anythin' about a 'foe-kway?" Guiche stared blankly at his familiar while he tried to translate through Kenneth's atrocious accent. "Seems they've made some threats 'gainst th' school, an' th' Count Wossname there 'as been sent wi' a couple o' Earth mages t'check on th' vault." Ah! That must be the Royal Messenger, then, the Count de Mott.

"Ah, you must be speaking of the legendary thief, Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt. They must be taking this threat quite seriously, then, to send him." Guiche perked up. Perhaps the thief might come, and he could apprehend them! It would be his first step on the road to heroism. Kenneth made an odd little grumble, however. "Is something the matter, good Ser?"

"It may be so, boy. Ah cannae tell yet." The Count flourished his cape and strode past the Headmaster toward the entrance. "He seems a right tit, tha' one. Demanded th' finest suite an' all. Heh." Kenneth grinned widely. "Joke's on him, ah've got tha' one!" A vision of catastrophe appeared in Guiche's mind at that moment. Yes, that was certainly true; after Kenneth's demonstration against his father and explanation of his rough status as a Knight-Errant he had been given the finest rooms to reflect that.

Rooms that the Count de Mott would be used to occupying, go directly to, and likely find occupied. Oh dear. This was not going to end well.

 

[Felius]

The story is potentially nice but it has a particular rather very large problem. Putting it briefly, the cultural posturing, specially on the meta-level, is nearly intolerable, bordering on bashing.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

The story is potentially nice but it has a particular rather very large problem. Putting it briefly, the cultural posturing, specially on the meta-level, is nearly intolerable, bordering on bashing.

Click to shrink...

Could you elaborate? Just saying that much isn't actually helpful, and actually more feels kind of insulting given that the situation you're describing is one I'm going out of my way to avoid.

 

[Felius]

Could you elaborate? Just saying that much isn't actually helpful, and actually more feels kind of insulting given that the situation you're describing is one I'm going out of my way to avoid.

Click to shrink...

Basically with how the world Saito and the Dwarf MC is simply so much more highpower and skilled than the poor native. A duel between one among the best of the best of Halk's mages against a great but not even near the same relative position in his world results in the latter being good enough to thrown out the right without being discovered, meaning that Guiche's father never even stood a remote chance to begin with. Saito being all but supernaturally skilled while not even being among the best back "home" is also rather annoying.

But perhaps more glaring do of all is how the Dwarven MC is just so morally and ethically superior, so much more "progressive", never getting called or even being described as doing or believing in something the narrative considers bullshit. Sure, it's not nearly so bad as the "bringing democracy to Halk" fics, but it is perhaps halfway there...

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Basically with how the world Saito and the Dwarf MC is simply so much more highpower and skilled than the poor native. A duel between one among the best of the best of Halk's mages against a great but not even near the same relative position in his world results in the latter being good enough to thrown out the right without being discovered, meaning that Guiche's father never even stood a remote chance to begin with. Saito being all but supernaturally skilled while not even being among the best back "home" is also rather annoying.

But perhaps more glaring do of all is how the Dwarven MC is just so morally and ethically superior, so much more "progressive", never getting called or even being described as doing or believing in something the narrative considers bullshit. Sure, it's not nearly so bad as the "bringing democracy to Halk" fics, but it is perhaps halfway there...

Click to shrink...

Okay, I guess I asked for this. Let's break it down.

A duel between one among the best of the best of Halk's mages against a great but not even near the same relative position in his world results in the latter being good enough to thrown out the fight without being discovered, meaning that Guiche's father never even stood a remote chance to begin with.

Click to shrink...

At least one assumption here is blatantly false. Kenneth's line about fighting wars since before Armand's grandfather was borne is not hyperbole. He's over three hundred years old and has been an adventurer since he was fifty. In his home he's world famous, and not just because his wife is the greatest smith in history. He's a Legendary Hero; his name will still be known even when his entire species goes extinct in a few thousand years from the time period he originates in. He is, in fact, among the top tier for entities in his world.

As for why he faked a loss, well, the word 'faked' is a bit strong. On the one hand he thought it was more important to Armand to feel like he'd won, and on the other hand Kenneth felt like he'd won as well. If Armand had known about his resistance he could have simply tossed him into the air and then zapped him. Or, hell, just zapped him in the air earlier. If they fight again Kenneth would win due to this bit of misinformation, and then the third time would be anyone's guess.

Saito being all but supernaturally skilled while not even being among the best back "home" is also rather annoying.

Click to shrink...

Saito is a Kagati-trained Ranger, meaning he is actually incredibly skilled in his own rights. Any assessment of his abilities that comes from him should be considered suspect; even Karin realized this, as shown here.

As he began she thought better of it and held out a hand for him to stop. There was a certain suspicion she had developed. "I have an inkling that you will have a varied skill set which you will claim is merely 'acceptable' or 'sufficient'. Is that correct?" Saito nodded slowly.

Click to shrink...

The bowmen he speaks of as his superiors simply operate on a different scale, since they average seven to eight feet tall and use greatbows almost the same size as him. In D&D terms, for example, they'd simply have a larger range increment. He is very skilled for where he comes from, almost unnaturally so, and is simply loath to say it because of his upbringing.

But perhaps more glaring do of all is how the Dwarven MC is just so morally and ethically superior, so much more "progressive", never getting called or even being described as doing or believing in something the narrative considers bullshit. Sure, it's not nearly so bad as the "bringing democracy to Halk" fics, but it is perhaps halfway there...

Click to shrink...

And as for this? That last snipe is just appalling, for one thing, but I can only think of two examples that you're working off. The first is Guiche's two-timing, which is out of place even for the setting and Guiche rightfully feels remorse. The second is in this last update, in regards to the treatment of Siesta.

I'll put this as plainly as I can. Kenneth is not criticizing the setting, nor the system. He has no opinion on the structure of their nobility as there are noble castes where he comes from as well and having it be based on magic is as good a reason as any. He is criticizing Guiche on a personal level for his specific behaviour, as he feels it is unbecoming of a noble; particularly one with Guiche's aspirations.

And, notably, Guiche does not agree. He still apologizes, but he does so because of a personal respect for Kenneth as opposed to any feeling that he's morally right. He doesn't feel bad about what he did, he feels bad because someone he likes and respects is disappointed in him.

Kelicho is no better nor worse than Halkegenia. It's different. Kelicho has a higher lethality for the average person, and so the average person from Kelicho could probably survive more easily in Halkegenia than the reverse. Halkegenian mages are stronger than mages from Kelicho, as demonstrated by the sheer difference in scale between the magic used by Armand and that used by Kenneth.

They're different. Kenneth comes from a society with different views than Guiche and he recognizes that it's wrong of him to hold Guiche to those views without making him understand why he holds them in the first place. Doing that, and enabling Guiche's character development as a result, is the entire point of Arc Two.

 

[Jarudazuigu]

"bringing democracy to Halkigenia" fic? I assure people it would end same way French Revolution did. Except that Halkigenia would be doomed without it's mage-nobles.

Also I totally agree with Author here. Guiche yelling and snapping at servant girl is still unseemly for idealized "Noblesse obliege" image that he aspires to. Our protagonist simply didn't catch up on that fact. After all he just yelled a little. Dorf stopped and scolded him on the spot, case solved.
Guiche forgot that Siesta existed.

While people made assumptions, that even our dumbo protagonist found appalling.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

Why, it seems it's time for another retrospective!

Chapter Three Retrospective
As strange as it may seem to have Kenneth commit to a training method and then immediately change his mind after some practice it was really important to me to demonstrate a key character trait that many familiar summons in ZnT fanworks lack; fallibility. He doesn't actually know what's best for Guiche, and has never trained a young human before in his life. This is all new to him, so he's doing the best he can. Sometimes that means changing his plans to account for the situation.

He probably wouldn't have actually kicked Guiche in the junk, but he knows it's good to establish your Drill Instructor Nasty reputation as early as possible.

Then we gloss over a large number of happenings; too many stories I've seen written die before they even reach the first major station of Canon, that being the requisite Guiche Curb Stomp, and I wanted to surpass that much at least. We see a teeny tiny bit of character development from ol' blondie, and establish some of Kenneth's credentials as a murderhobo adventurer. Also laying a little foreshadowing for Armand de Gramont, the 'antagonist' of the arc.

We re-intersect with canon in terms of Saito and Louise as they head off to buy the former equipment. No Guiche to fight means no sword, of course, but Saito is a Ranger first and foremost; he needs a solid bow. Plus some indication of how I'm subverting Louise's standard behaviour. We'll cover that in greater depth in later retrospectives but for now I'll summarize as follows; there is a great difference between striking an impertinent young man who is seeming to actively insult you, and striking a subservient young man who seems to think he has insulted you when, in fact, he has not.

And, of course, we all know that Dorf Craftsmanship is the greatest in the world. But not before some spooky scary foreshadowing that I doubt anyone noticed, heh. Kenneth's behaviour is a little over-the-top here, but it's meant to establish a very important character that shall never personally appear in the story; Red the Iron Wolf. Also to establish Kenneth's axe, which is pretty much his child at this point in time.

Requisite Derf, of course, but we're not giving him to Saito this time around. Kenneth has an eye for quality, even under rust, and he has a few ideas about that sword. Canny readers will realize that Derf has yet to show up again as of the start of Arc 2, but that won't last.

Then we have Armand de Gramont. Ah, how I enjoyed his character. One of the better kinds of villain is one that, well, is not; and that suits Armand perfectly. All he wants is for his son to do well, but he's all but given up on him after a string of, more or less, failures. He's not a bad person as such, just not a great father. In the end, he still cares for Guiche a great deal and has concern for his wellbeing; he's just not the best at showing it.

Part of it was meant to contrast with Karin, and set up some good feelings with Louise. In spite of fanon's interpretation of her as an iron-hearted bitch who mistreats her children for fun she's actually a reasonable parent given her circumstances. The sheer number of chances she affords Louise in spite of her apparent inability to do magic, when many other nobles would likely have disowned her or sent her off to a convent or similar, is rather staggering.

Still, Armand is a different beast; he is, primarily, a General whereas Karin was more of an adventurer type. Karin was obeyed due to her sheer natural charisma whereas Armand was obeyed due to the chain of command; while she can command a certain level respect from anyon he simply expects it, which causes a few conflicts between him and Kenneth since the latter respects a grand total of about two people. Maybe three? Not a lot, anyway.

In spite of being the antagonist for the Arc, he's really more of a stand-in for Guiche's usual role in canon; more than that, however, he's a goalpost. By the end of this story, Guiche de Gramont ought to be just as strong as his father with nobility to match that strength. Should be a fun ride.

 

[TotalAbsolutism]

"Ah do apologize fer takin' yer rooms, Count; if ah'd known ye took 'em regularly ah'd have taken a lesser domicile." As it turned out, there was not a massive diplomatic incident. The visions he'd had of Kenneth dividing the man in twain with his axe when the insults began flying didn't come to fruition. Instead he was faced with a bizarre scene that almost defied his comprehension. That being one of someone else kissing up to his familiar. It was uncanny, unthinkable, and generally just plain weird.

"Oh, 'tis no trouble Master Dwarf. In truth, the suite on the other side has a much more pleasant view in the mornings in my opinion; I don't especially enjoy sunlight in my face as I awake." The Count de Mott wasn't being particularly obvious about it, yet Guiche could recognize the signs. He was being warm, polite and generally speaking to the dwarf as if he were an equal. The young noble just couldn't understand it. He watched with interest as the two conversed in Kenneth's, frankly rather fine, room; over tea.

"Haha, yer too kind. Ah realize ah've put ya out a bit." The Count waved off the objection, and poured another cup for the smaller man. Kenneth had cleaned up somewhat; not as much as he had for the General, though. Guiche had put much more effort in when he'd realized they were going to visit the man; hoping he could calm the situation.

"I was astonished to find that the young Lord de Gramont had called upon so prestigious an entity. After all, your kind are renowned for their work with earth and metal; though, I admit, none have been seen since Brimir's day." That much was true. Guiche had done research of his own after the first night and found very little on the subject.

"You do me a kindness, Count de Mott; the quality of my familiar speaks only to his own talents, and not my own." Self-deprecation was an important part of noble discussions. One must be humble, and not talk oneself up too much. Kenneth didn't seem to entirely agree with that, as he clapped his young charge firmly on the back before retorting.

"Bah. Th' lad may have 'is flaws, but ah'm working on buffin' them out. Ah'll make a diamond of him yet." He flushed, turning away but smiling slightly. That was high praise coming from him. At times Guiche didn't feel quite so sure of his own potential; as of late there'd been a few doubts in that regard.

"I'm glad to hear it. In fact, this encounter is most fortuitous! Perhaps you can help me solve a minor mystery." Mott snapped his fingers, and one of his various omnipresent attendants stepped forward with a small wooden box. Upon taking hold of it he withdrew a plain, broad-bladed dagger and laid it upon the table. The atmosphere thickened noticeably.

"I acquired this at a certain shop in the capital. They had many such items there, all of superb quality. However, they were loath to divulge their supplier to me. Seems that they are currently under suspicion of smuggling in arms from Germania… a serious offence, if true." Kenneth leaned over and picked up the weapon. Then, much to Guiche's surprise, he began to twirl it in his hand; moving it over his palm and spinning it between his fingers in a surprising display of dexterity that ended with him balancing it by the point on the tip of his right thumb.

The dwarf then flipped it over and put it down, before pulling off his glove and grinning to himself. There was, on the tip of his thumb, a small drop of blood welling up. Kenneth's leather gloves were quite thick, and Guiche certainly didn't recognize the animal they came from, so he was quite surprised by that.

"Well, seems yer suspicion 's confirmed there, Count. 's me handiwork, right enough. Ah entered inta a lil' deal wi' th' man so as t'lessen th' burden o' me wages on ol' Guiche here." If the young man didn't know better he'd have sworn that Kenneth's accent had only gotten thicker as the conversation went on. Curious. The Count de Mott, meanwhile, smiled beatifically at the news.

"Oh, very good, very good. I had thought the craftsmanship was too high quality even for Germania. The edge is superb. I assume you used some sort of alchemical strengthening?" Kenneth chuckled and shook his head, wagging a finger at the Count as if admonishing a small child.

"Ah, Count, yer three hundred years too young t'get me t'reveal mah secrets so easily." The older noble allowed a wry chuckle and a friendly smile. Then his expression became a little sharper. He leaned forward, steepling his hands together with elbows rested upon his knees.

"Indeed, perhaps it is so. However, I might make a suggestion to you; I have a number of contacts in various places that could be beneficial to your business arrangements. With the superb quality of your creations we could charge a small fortune for the pieces." Mott waved a silk-gloved hand as he spoke, smoothing back the ruffles on his immaculate clothing.

"Ah do apologize, Count, but ah sign'ed a contract wiv th' man, an' 'twould be a great unkindness t'abandon him just fer th' sake o' profit. Ah've little need fer such wealth." The Count nodded, slightly saddened it seemed, but keeping up good spirits. Then he stood up, dusting off his immaculate pant legs.

"Understandable! And a commendable position as well. Now then; I shall tarry no longer; it is getting on, and I must conduct my inspection tour tomorrow morning! Thank you for your courtesy." He straightened up and headed for the door, one of his attendants moving to open it for him. As he was about to leave he half-turned, as if captured by a thought.

"It is fortunate I ran into you here, Master Dwarf; that poor merchant was likely to face severe penalties otherwise. Smuggling usually carries a fine and confiscation, but arms smuggling, and with Germania of all places, would likely have been a treason charge. Most fortunate. Good evening." And then he was gone. Guiche nodded to himself.

"He certainly seemed nice. This could be good! Perhaps I might have begun to build connections of my very own. What do you think Kenne-" His words died in his throat when he turned to his familiar. In sharp contrast with Guiche's good feelings the dwarf had a sour expression, and was staring thoughtfully at the doorway.

"Aye, lad. He certainly was… slick." Guiche didn't quite understand what lubrication had to do with the Count, but the context and expression made him feel like that was meant to be some sort of disparaging statement. "Ah'd prefer it if ye dinnae speak t'him if ah'm not around. If ye have to, though… make polite small talk, do not commit to anythin', and try t'make an excuse t'leave as soon as ye can." The young noble raised an eyebrow at his familiar's curious statements.

"I don't quite understand the wariness, Kenneth. Given he is an adult and I am but a young man then, well, of course any interaction he has with me will be mostly political in nature…" Kenneth dipped his head in approval of startlingly realistic understanding of the situation. "But he seemed pleasant enough, surely? Rather, I think you were a little rude to dismiss his offer to do business so out of hand." The dwarf shrugged.

"Ah said what ah thought an' meant it, boy. Ah keep my word. But did ya notice that remark he gave as he left?" Well, of course he had. Guiche had thought it was a nice sentiment to express, yet Kenneth seemed to be disagreeing? He felt like he was in over his head again. "Hm. Maybe ah'm too on edge. 's been a long day. Y'get yer rest, boy, an' ah'll see ya in th' morn."

Guiche left the dwarf to his own devices, which seemed to mostly consist of perpetually working on something. If he wasn't carving out a few extra stone beads, even if he never seemed to add any to his beard, he was making some little figurine or mixing some new configuration of metals and chemicals. It seemed everyone had decided to very politely not say anything about the little idol he'd set up on a table in the corner; while it was undoubtedly some pagan deity he also wasn't a human, so that probably meant he wasn't capable of being a heathen by definition alone.

Falling onto his own soft bed was so relaxing that Guiche almost forgot to change into his nightclothes and take his evening potion. Whenever he drank the disgusting concoction he always felt the need to take a mouthful of something sweet afterwards; in fact, he'd acquired a small pottle of honey for that very purpose. Brimir only knew when Kenneth found the time to put the damn thing on his end table. Although, at least it soothed the aching deep in his muscles enough for him to sleep.

Still, he laid awake in bed for a few minutes longer than usually. Ordinarily he would have been asleep within moments of his head striking the pillow and closing his eyes. This time, however, the parting words of his familiar rang in his head. In this particular instance, he decided, Kenneth's feelings were unfounded. The Count had been nothing but polite and understanding about the situation.

Yes, his familiar was a mighty hero; but that very nature was working against him here. He was looking for enemies in every corner. There was no need to be so adversarial; particularly not with his fellow nobles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

When Saito of Hiraga awoke it was perhaps three quarters of an hour before first light. His natural sleep rhythm quickly brought him from slumber to wakefulness and, equally quickly, brought his hands to the weapons placed within easy reach. Once his highly-tuned senses had determined that he had not been awoken due to an abnormal sound, smell or light he began his day in earnest.

Within five minutes of awakening he had rinsed his face, laid out his clothes, and moved out to the servant's bathing area. The school's magical nature meant that even the common staff were afforded the opportunity for warm baths on a daily basis; even if not all of them availed themselves of such. He did so twice a day, and felt no guilt for doing so.

Once he was fully clean and dried he performed a cursory examination of his body. There were no lingering aches, no fresh wounds, and the markings on his right hand that indicated the nature of his existence remained unchanged. After Louise's mother had left she had finally completed the contract with him and he had acquired these 'familiar runes'.

Back in his room, a very small yet private one he had been afforded by dint of being a personal servant to a noble student, he pulled a large clay pot from under his bed and began applying the substance therein to his body with great care. It took a small amount of time to dry, but once it had the various other markings on his skin were concealed; although the contours of the scars beneath were still clearly visible.

The pot went away, and he finally dressed himself. Other servants were just now rising, or going to bed in some cases, and the day was truly beginning. He had a number of tasks to perform. First and foremost was the kitchen. The cook was allowed the smallest of nods in greeting before he availed himself of the morning's ingredients in order to prepare breakfast for his contracted mistress.

In the beginning the tyrant of the kitchen had been rather insulted at Saito's insistence that he cook for his owner. However, the basic argument that it was no slight against the skills of the cook but rather his distrust for the nobility of this school had seemed to sway the man. The sheer level of naive foolishness was mindboggling. For all of his… nature the Lord Hiraga would never have been quite so careless with his own children.

Saito had estimated that, if he was so ordered, he could eliminate perhaps a third of the next generation of ruling class within the space of a single breakfast with no more than the ingredients readily available to him in the main larder. If he was allowed to use his own private collection of herbs then there would not be a single survivor. Since arriving he had acquired a wonderfully extensive selection of various poisonous plants from the local forest with minimal effort.

Thus far he had refrained from suggesting to the young mistress that she engage in such behaviour, however. He had no wish to be so presumptuous. If she required his services then she would simply ask for such. In the meantime he would complete his appointed tasks with the proper diligence and efficiency.

He left the plate in the kitchen with subtle adjustments to its positioning and the cover on top such that he would be immediately aware of any tampering upon his return. Should there be any evidence when he returned then there would be a deep toll cut from the body of the one responsible. After affirming their actual guilt, of course.

Louise awoke gracelessly when roused, as usual, and he finished laying out her clothing for the day before she had crawled out of bed. As she reached for the handle he opened the door for her from the other side, allowed a three-quarters bow, and took up stance behind her as she strode through the corridors. Her imperiousness needed a bit of work if she was to match the standard set by her mother but she was coming along nicely, on the whole.

As they entered the dining hall, and he dutifully assisted her in sitting properly, there were a few faint murmurs that just barely entered into Saito's hearing; unintentionally, he was sure. For a moment he considered seizing the nearest steak knife and presenting his mistress with the severed tongues of the three most vocal malcontents; but then thought better of it, as he did not have a change of clothes at the ready.

Today she did not wish him to accompany her to class. This was concerning, but not unusual. Many days Louise would grow uncomfortable with his constant attendance and seek time alone. He allowed this to a degree; she was still young, and her many future rivals seemed as naive as her. Which is to say, his network of servant informants kept an eye on her in exchange for the various little 'favours' he acquired for them.

With that done he was more or less at his leisure. He wouldn't leave the academy today, in case the tell-tale sound of an explosion informed him that Louise needed his assistance in tidying up another destroyed classroom, so instead he would observe the newcomer and try to gauge just how much of a potential threat they were.

The Count seemed harmless. Lecherous, perhaps. Scheming, most definitely. Devious? Absolutely. But harmless. From the looks he gave to the maids, and the Headmaster's secretary, there was a certain 'type' that he had which Louise most definitely did not fill. Saito followed at a discreet distance and relied on his finely tuned hearing to gather information.

"I understand this is a great inconvenience to you, Osmond, but we're taking the threat seriously. If anyone figured out how to get into your vault it would be him." Referencing the magical sneak-thief who had become a figure of legend amongst the serving class. Their abilities meant they could only be a noble, but their habit of targeting the nobility exclusively still made them somewhat of a folk hero.

"Mm, yes, well that's as may be, Count. I'm assured by my staff that the structure remains perfectly sound; although, obviously, I can no more verify that personally than you could." The Headmaster was an Air mage, that much Saito knew. Likely skilled, but undoubtedly less so than Her Grace.

"Indeed; I brought a number of diviners with me to verify that. I'd also like to inspect the door, and inside if that is possible?" He'd checked the Vault himself, once, and found it to be more or less impregnable. Some very powerful magic was infused into its stones, sealing and binding them together with a hardness similar to crystallized adamant.

If he were to break into it himself, and had no readily accessible source of Ether, then he'd need brute force an order of magnitude above that which even Flamecutter could bring to bear; although his prodigious might, Earth-aligned nature and Tul'vakai bone axe would likely make up the difference. A certain professional curiosity lead him to wonder how this 'Crumbling Earth' might do it. Perhaps-

A small, blue-haired shape interrupted his thoughts with a sharp yet silent gust of wind that struck him in the shoulder. He was slammed back against the wall of the corridor he lurked in and, in a moment, found he had the crook of a curved staff pressed up against his neck.

"Who do you work for?" Ah. This was the individual that had been watching him these past weeks. He'd noticed her keeping a curious eye on him but had mistakenly assumed it to be no more than a certain girlish curiosity. That had been a mistake. If Her Grace had detected some of his underlying nature then, naturally, those even more in tune with him could do so as well.

This one was quite good, in fact. As he looked into her icy expression Saito found no fear, nor remorse, nor mercy. She was very willing to kill him where he stood. In fact, he estimated that her nature ran even deeper than his; there was some underlying force in there. A driving pain that gave her a far greater fervor than he could match.

Still, he wasn't overly concerned with his situation. If she began an attack he would simply move forward slightly. The spell, most likely some form of ice spear or dagger, would thus penetrate his windpipe cleanly but miss his spine and any major veins at this angle; whereas his own knife, neatly concealed in his sleeve, would easily open up the vein on the side of her neck. While she recoiled in shock he could then slide his knife between the third and fourth ribs at a slightly downwards angle and pierce her heart.

Disposal of the body would be a little more difficult, but he was confident in his ability to reduce her to chunks small enough to discretely bury in the compost heap without discovery before they had rotted down; so long as he removed the teeth and destroyed the skull enough to conceal the humanity of the remains. The hardest part of all would be performing an efficient enough bypass of his own trachea to enable him to hide the corpse before reaching the infirmary.

Tabitha continued to press her staff to his neck; awaiting a response and thoroughly unaware of the thought processes of her hostage. After a long pause in which Saito determined that the inspection party was moving away from them he finally spoke.

"I am sworn to the service of Louise de la Vallière specifically, and the Duchy of Vallière in general. Within this world they are the only ones I deem fit to call my masters." The answer didn't seem to mollify her. If anything she grew more suspicious, pressing her staff just a bit harder. His arm tensed in its sleeve, ready to strike.

Then she drew back, and he allowed himself to relax. Her eyes remained cold, her expression guarded. It was almost funny. He'd spent so much time and effort seeking out threats to his owner only to find that the greatest possible one had entirely escaped his notice.

"Telling truth. Surprising." Indeed, she did seem surprised. He was as well; for although he was, indeed, being honest with her he had not expected to recognize that or accept it. "Thought spy, or assassin. Suspected Reconquista." He nodded slowly. Yes, that might fit. Now he was curious, however.

"What gave me away? I had thought my conduct impeccable." A faint ghost of a smile visited itself upon her face. It was rather smug, at that, which made him think he'd made a very basic and categorical error with his characterisation.

"Tristanian. Too fluent." Saito's eyes widened slightly and he clenched his teeth. He'd thought it was fine, surely? They had no idea what his original language ought to sound… like… ah. As comprehension reached him the girl nodded. "Dwarf spoke other languages. Called one 'Kagati'. You are such. Thus, not native speaker. Too fluent." Once more he allowed himself to bow his head; this time in deference to her superior espionage skills.

"Quite, you are correct. Then I shall introduce myself properly; I am Saito of Vallière, formerly of Hiraga; Kagati Woodsman. And I am also a nameless murderer, trained from birth to serve my Lord or Lady as such." Oddly enough that made her actually smile, and she allowed a little bob to him in return.

"Tabitha. Also Charlotte de Gallia. Foreign agent, sometimes assassin." The two killers, one professional and the other more semi-professional, regarded each other with the curious fondness of two people who knew that, at some point in the future, they may be required to kill each other. Within that recognition was a certain camaraderie that shone through.

"The price for your silence?" Her smile grew a little wider. Yes, he knew how the game was played almost as well as she did. Even if he was older he figured her experience was a bit better. Already he was considering that she likely had a countermeasure for his earlier plan even if she didn't know precisely what it was. Truly an admirable girl.

"Favour. Eventually. May need someone dead." No more needed to be said. His agreement came in silence; a tacit understanding that he might someday help her in exchange for her silence so long as his mistress was not placed in peril. Nothing more needed to pass between them. She left as quietly as she'd arrived, some magic masking the sound of her movements, and he calmly returned to spying on the inspection team as if nothing had happened at all.