The tavern had gradually filled with the low buzz of dwarven conversation as it became clear the excitement was over for the night. Plates clattered, tankards thudded on tables, and laughter erupted sporadically around the room at the antics of two younger, red-bearded dwarves who had made their way behind the counter to begin distributing drinks to those who had not quite hit their limits for the night. Klarion had been about to say something, as he had only ever seen Ordran working in The Hearth & Ember, but a shout from Vuldrin for the duo to keep track of who owes what for the dwarven owner put him more at ease.
After their friends had left for the evening, Klarion remained sitting with Hatsune at their table. He hadn’t planned to linger this late, but staying seemed easier than leaving. The tavern was loud and bustling, Klarion and Hatsune were practically ignored by the dwarves by that point, and their table had been the perfect place to avoid thinking too deeply.
Yet the truth was, he had been thinking after he no longer had his friends around to distract him. The duel had been ruthless, brutal even. The message he needed to send had been clear and uncompromising. But the part that gnawed at him was one simple fact: he didn’t care. Not about the fight or the life extinguished.
Hatsune leaned back in her chair, one arm drapped casually over the backrest, watching him with a knowing expression. She hadn’t pressed him, not even after the others had said their goodnights and left. To be honest, he appreciated that. He wasn’t sure what he would have said.
Klarion looked around the room again, a slight smile coming to his face as the pair of dwarves behind the bar began tossing a bottle of whiskey back and forth while Vuldrin angrily made his way over to them. That old dwarf really could yell. The smile faded when he realized he still hadn’t seen Ordran return from… whatever he was doing in his kitchen. It was a bit unusual that he hadn’t returned yet, especially since Ordran had previously made it a point to collect their plates and wish them a good night. But the kitchen door remained firmly shut.
Klarion let out a long breath, deciding that it was late enough and that they should get going back to Blacksword Manor. After grabbing his new books, he pulled a few coins from those that he had found in the Dungeon, leaving them on the table. “That should cover it.”
Hatsune nodded, moving to stand as he did, only pausing to grab the loot from the Dungeon she had been carrying since they left the Infirmary. “He probably got caught up with something,” she said, following his last glance towards the kitchen.
“You’re probably right,” Klarion said, the scrape of his chair against the floor as he tucked it back under the table loud, even amidst the din. “Let’s get going. I’m feeling a bit tired.”
After making their way between the tables, the dwarves still larger trying to avoid making eye contact with him, they stepped into the cool night air. The street was quiet, as he had expected it would be. Klarion and Hatsune walked side by side down the quiet street, heading in the direction of his… home? The word fit better than the alternatives. He didn’t know exactly how long he had left at the Imperial Academy, but he would likely be staying there until then. He had to admit, a bit more cleaning and a few more people around to make it feel a bit less empty, and it would certainly feel like a home.
“You’re quiet,” Hatsune observed a few minutes into their walk.
“Just thinking,” he said, attention still fixed ahead.
“About the duel?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Among other things.”
“Did you want to talk about it?”
“About the duel?” Klarion asked, turning his attention more fully to the Leporine. She was still watching him as they walked, a slight look of concern on her face, though her ears shifted with every sound that came from the darkness. Always on alert. “Protecting me from myself, now?”
“If that makes it more likely for you to share what is on your mind, sure.”
There was a quiet invitation in her tone, gentle yet persistent, offering him a chance to unburden himself. Her presence was steady, warm, and without judgment. That mattered more than he wanted to admit. She waited patiently as he looked at her.
“I was ruthless,” Klarion admitted. “I wanted to send a message, and I did.” He shook his head. “But it’s not that part that bothers me. It’s that… I don’t care that I killed him. Even now, I feel nothing about it.”
His Leporine bodyguard reached out, gently grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop. “And you are thinking, what? That feeling that way makes you a monster?”
“No, not really,” Klarion said honestly. “But shouldn’t I care?”
Hatsune didn’t respond at first, a complicated look on her face. The silence lingered long enough that Klarion was about to break it himself when she seemed to come to some decision.
“My grandfather once told me a story…” she said before trailing off. The Leporine looked around, ears flicking around again. Whatever sound she heard apparently did not happen again, as they turned back to him.
“What kind of story?” he prodded, intrigued about any new information she volunteered from before arriving at the Imperial Academy.
“A lesson,” she said, as they began walking again. “It happened when our pro—home was under threat from a man named Taigashi, a self-styled warlord who had carved out a reputation for cruelty and ambition. His followers had ravaged the region surrounding where my family lived and eventually set their sights on our home. After a long summer of fighting, my grandfather and his allies finally cornered Taigashi and his remaining supporters at the base of the Red Jade Falls. They were outnumbered, exhausted, and without supplies. Defeat was inevitable.”
She paused, glancing over at Klarion to make sure he was still listening to her story. Like he could focus on anything else at the moment. Her voice, soft but laced with pain, held all his attention.
“Taigashi dropped his blade and knelt before my grandfather, swearing fealty. He claimed that all he wanted was a future for his people, those who had followed him. He offered an alliance if my grandfather would spare him. My grandfather, believing there was a chance to end the bloodshed and build something better, accepted. He granted Taigashi and his men clemency, offering them land and trade rights.”
Klarion’s brow furrowed. “That sounds… hopeful.”
“It was,” Hatsune agreed, her voice darkening. “For a time. Taigashi sent emissaries bearing gifts, and trade flourished. People began to rebuild, thinking the worst was behind them.”
“But it wasn’t,” Klarion guessed grimly.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“No.” Hatsune’s voice turned cold. “Taigashi never intended to keep his word. He used the time my grandfather’s mercy bought to secretly rebuild his forces. When he struck again, it was swift and brutal. Villages were burned, hundreds slaughtered, and every single raider pardoned turned against us.” She shook her head, mentally pushing some memory away, then continued, her voice back to normal. “My grandfather’s decision cost his us dearly — lives lost, homes destroyed, and trust shattered. Mercy had been extended with the hope of building a future where both sides could grow stronger together, but instead, it invited ruin.” She paused, looking at him. “My grandfather regretted sparing him. And he did not give Taigashi another chance once he defeated him again. Not because he didn’t believe in mercy, but because he had learned a harsh truth—mercy, while noble, can be a luxury that enemies will exploit as weakness. And weakness invites ruin.”
They returned to walking in silence, Klarion turning Hatsune’s story over in his mind. It was a lesson he knew he couldn’t afford to ignore. The duel he had fought earlier resurfaced in his mind — the quick, ruthless way that he had ended it. Yes, while mercy had its place, in an Academy filled with ambition, with deceit, and with enemies around gathering around him and his friends, he would likely have to send more than a few more messages to get his point across: if you come after me or mine, you will not walk away.
No. Thinking on it further, there was no way the death of a single bodyguard was going to be anywhere close to enough. From everything he had experienced so far, many scions at the Academy had no issue sending their bodyguards to die. He might well have to strike a bit closer to home. Perhaps his enemies would leave them alone once they learned that they, themselves, were not safe from his wrath?
He looked over at Hatsune again, his thoughts firming as he thought of her and the other friends that he had made since arriving at the Academy. He could endure the violence, the harshness, the darkness, as long as those who mattered to him were not consumed by it. The Academy could, no, would be cruel and unforgiving, but if he could protect them, maybe that would be enough.
Klarion’s thoughts finally settled as they continued down the last main road toward Blacksword Manor. Hatsune had been quiet, giving him time to digest the story she had shared with him. He glanced sideways at her, admiring how the moonlight brushed her silver-gray hair, making it shimmer. Her ears flicked slightly, sensing his attention, but she kept her gaze forward and around them. He was curious to know a bit more about her family, but he held off asking about them. It was late, and, as much as he wanted to learn more about Hatsune, tonight he needed to focus on
Finally, they came to the dead-end street that held Blacksword Manor. Empty as always, Hatsune did not hesitate to step in front of him to open the door, heading inside first. Much like he expected, the manor had not been disturbed since they had left it. Making their way through the dark corridors, echoing steps across the stone floor following him, Klarion again reflected on the need for more than a few improvements to make the manor more like a home. Thankfully, he had some Coins of Service now, so perhaps another trip to the Hall of Bonds would lead him to someone that could help him with what he had in mind. Then there was the Mark of Bonds. Given how much time he spent with Hatsune, and the fact that he wanted protectors that would complement each other’s skill sets, he’d have to think carefully on how to use it. Perhaps the coming weekend he would have time to take care of both.
They eventually made their way to the bedroom they’d been sharing. It was the work of only a moment to get a small fire going in the hearth to light the room. He enjoyed the pleasant heat for a moment as Hatsune stopped before the dresser to place the bracers and the pouch that held the ring in front of the mirror. Leaning over, she set the old greatsword Klarion had found against the wall.
Klarion looked at the loot of the Dungeon, eyes lingering on the pouch that held the ring in particular. “We should probably figure out if those are enchanted — or cursed.”
Hatsune blinked up at him, her expression curious. “Cursed?”
“You never know,” Klarion said, but when her expression didn’t change, he elaborated. “I played a few too many games back on my homeworld, where cool loot turned out to be cursed. Rings that bound themselves to your soul, or bracers that drained your blood once you put them on. That sort of thing.”
Hatsune gave a soft laugh, though he noticed she did step away from the items she had just set down. “I didn’t realize your world’s games were so intense.”
“Do you know if there’s a way to identify items like these?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted, standing up and heading over to her couch. “But I do know that item identification is a rare ability, usually tied to specific classes. It’s not something just anyone can do.”
Klarion frowned. That made things more complicated. If she was right, and he had no doubt that she was, he couldn’t just learn the ability himself. Unless he picked a class that allowed for it. “So, we’d need someone with that ability to check these out?”
“Probably,” Hatsune confirmed. “Or maybe there’s a tool or ritual we could find to use. I’m sure that we could look into it later in the Archives.”
Hatsune stretched her arms above her head, her usual grace softened by fatigue that had become more apparent after she had entered the manor. “Long day,” she murmured.
“Very long,” Klarion agreed as he stepped over to his side table to set the books down on it, next to the Assessment Orb he had been given. Popping his back, he turned to find Hatsune looking at him hesitantly, cheeks faintly tinged pink.
“I’ll, um, get ready for bed first…?” she asked.
Klarion offered a polite nod and turned his back without hesitation, facing the side table he had just set his new books on. The soft clink of armor being unfastened was soon followed by it being set aside. He was acutely aware of Hatsune behind him and the rustle of fabric that soon followed as she finished getting ready for bed.
“All done.”
Klarion turned around, finding her already nestled beneath the thick comforter on the couch, her silvery-grey hair fanned out around her. She looked smaller somehow, her usual confident presence softened by the weariness of the day.
“You know,” he said, sitting down on his bed to begin taking off his boots, “if you keep sleeping in here, I think we need to get you a real bed. That couch can’t be comfortable.”
Her ears flicked as she stared at him, surprised. “I sleep fine.”
Klarion raised an eyebrow as he flexed his now-free toes. “You say that, but I saw the way you stretched your back after that first night sleeping there. I’m pretty sure that couch has a greater chance of hurting you than most of my enemies.”
“Our enemies,” she said firmly, then softly laughed, despite trying to stay serious. “It’s not that bad.”
Klarion leaned back on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows with a playful grin. “You’re too polite to complain. But seriously, if you’re going to keep staying here, we should get a proper bed for you.”
Her expression faltered, shyness creeping in again as she fidgeted with the covers around her. “I… didn’t want to impose.”
Klarion’s smile softened. “You’re not imposing. I like having you here,” he admitted. He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. “Besides, I think I’ve been sleeping better knowing my bodyguard is close by.”
Hatsune’s cheeks went slightly pink again. “Oh…” she murmured, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad that my being here helps make you feel safe.”
“It’s just the truth,” Klarion said sincerely. “So, what do you think? Real bed?”
Her ears flicked again as she gave a nod. “Maybe. If you’re sure.”
“Absolutely, the room is big enough for it,” Klarion affirmed, sitting back up. “We’ll pick one out together. Something big enough that you can actually stretch out. With some real sheets and covers too.”
That earned him another laugh. “Alright,” she agreed, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “But no filly bankets.”
Klarion chuckled in return. “Deal. No frills, just comfort.”
He leaned over, setting his boots to the side of the bed, and reached for the book on the history of House Blacksword. Thick tome in hand, he settled onto the edge of the mattress, looking down at the cover. His pulse quickened — not entirely from excitement at finally learning a bit more about his family, but also from a bit of unease at what he might find. Still, there was no turning back. He had come to the Imperial Academy, setting aside Klaus to embrace his identity as Klarion Blacksword. If he was going to carry the name, he needed to understand everything about it.
“You’re staying up to read that?” Hatsune asked from the couch.
“Yeah. I need to,” Klarion admitted. “There’s too much I don’t know about too many things otherwise. The biggest being the relationship House Blacksword, and by extension myself, has with the other scions at this Academy. I have to start piecing it together.”
“I won’t argue with you—” she said, a yawn interrupting her, “—but try not to stay up too late. Good night, Klarion.”
“Good night, Hatsune,” he said, still staring down at the book in his hands.
As her breathing evened out and the room settled into silence, Klarion opened the book and began to read.