[1 Month Later]


    The Moonfall capital is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The castle is built on top of a mesa, made of the same red clay of the surrounding land. Its dozens of spires have an organic look to them, like stalagmites stretching for the sky. It towers over the valley below, but it’s what’s beneath the castle that takes my breath away.


    The city is carved into the cliff face, thousands of doors and balconies and ladders peppering the plateau like an intricate carving.


    “Amazing,” Quell says, also looking out the window of our coach as we approach the kingdom. “I’ve read the city extends far into the rock as well. It took a hundred earth mages ten years to carve the original city. The rock that was removed from inside the cliff is what was used to build the palace above. It’s an incredible feat of structural integrity, actually.”


    “Fascinating!” Liz says. “And did the book say how they handle the sewage for such a uniquely designed city?”


    “Yes, actually.” Quell turns back to us, eyes bright with excitement. “It’s pretty ingenious. You see, first they had to carve the vertical drain pipes…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes at his sister’s un-suppressed grin. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you.”


    She flutters a hand against her chest. “I would never!”


    Quell sighs, sitting back against the cushioned seats. “Well it was a very informative read.”


    I let my smile fade as I continue to watch the approaching city. The shadow of the mesa falls over us, and even though our coach is spelled to withstand the summer heat, I can still feel the shade’s relief.


    “You’re worried,” Darian observes, pulling my attention away from the Moonfall palace. She’s sitting next to Liz—well, Liz has kicked her legs up over Darian’s lap–across from Quell and I. “Why?”


    I narrow my eyes. “How can you tell?”


    “The way you’re sitting like a stiff board.” Darian lifts an eyebrow. “Well?”


    I shake my head. “I don’t know. It’s not about anything specific. Maybe I’m nervous about protecting Quell here. I know we’re coming to further relations, but that doesn’t mean everyone will see us as allies.”


    Darian nods approvingly. “Good instincts.”


    Liz scoffs. “Guys, at least try to act friendly when we’re in the city. The last thing we need is to project hostility when we’re trying to show how not-scary we are.”


    “Yes, because nothing says ‘friendly’ like a shield covered in teeth and claws with glowing red eyes,” I say.


    “You only really need to have it out during the ceremony,” Quell says.


    “True, but I’m going to take it out anyway anytime there’s enough room to fit it,” I tell him. “It’s easier to protect you if it’s already out.” Also, carrying that thing around gives me a decent workout each day, and the Aegis starts acting moody if I leave it in my Inventory for too long.


    “I bet you’re really worried about meeting our parents,” Liz teases. “Have you two told them, yet?”


    I can feel my cheeks heat up, and Quell also appears flustered. He hasn’t, in fact. We’ve both pointedly avoided talking about that inevitable problem.


    “What about you?” he shoots back. “Now that you’re the heir apparent, your choice in suitors carries a bit more weight than it did before.”


    Liz glowers at him. “They know and they’ll just have to come to terms with it. After all, now that you’re second in line, you’re the one mostly likely to get married off for political alliances. I hear the Moonfall Kings have a couple strapping young princes our own age. I could introduce you.”


    Quell glares at her. “You wouldn’t,” he hisses.


    “They like math and astronomy, I’m told,” Liz continues, grinning wickedly. “You’re into the bookish types, aren’t you?”


    As Quell splutters out a response, Darian and I meet each other’s eyes, exchanging an unspoken sigh. The two are always like this.


    “No, no, what am I thinking?” Liz laughs. She loops an arm around Darian’s. “We’re both more into the hunky guard types, aren’t we?”


    I can sense Quell blushing, and I chuckle. He’s still nervous of expressing any signs of affection in public.


    “It must run in the family,” I remark. Alright so Liz isn’t the only one who teases him.


    Liz brightens at my words. “You could be right! I heard Father was quite the handsome young soldier back in the day. Maybe Constance just needs to find a strong, stoic dhampyr to settle down with, too.”


    Darian and I politely chuckle at Liz’s joke, but the mood sours after that, and the coach grows quiet. Constance is still a touchy subject with the siblings. The last I saw of him, he was being sent back to Duneshade for rest and recovery. That he was removed as heir apparent came as a shock to everyone. Quell still receives frequent letters from the capital, updating him on his brother’s condition, but every letter he finishes leaves him looking weary, so I don’t pry.


    When we arrive at the base of the cliff, a party is awaiting us. We all disembark, and our guards come with us, falling into formation around the royal children as we approach the Moonfall envoys. Breaking away from the rest of the group, Ambassador Ashla strolls up to meet us.


    “Prince Quell,” she says, inclining her head with a smile. “Princess Felicity. We’re happy to have you both. I hope the stay will be to your liking. We’ve arranged rooms in the palace for you and your associates.”


    “Ashla.” Liz steps forward to clasp her hands. “I wasn’t expecting to see you back to work this soon. I’m glad you’re looking so well.”


    The ambassador appears disarmed by her forwardness and warmth, which Liz admittedly tends to do to most people. Maybe she’ll make an effective diplomat in her own unique way.


    “I was offered a considerate sum to resign and focus on my health, actually,” Ashla says. “But I prefer my duties to a cushy retirement. Please, come this way.”


    She leads us toward the rock face, and we follow.


    Now that I’m up close, I notice that the city doesn’t extend all the way to the ground. In fact, so far as I can tell, there’s no way to enter the city at all. Yet, as we approach the base, runes flicker from within the stone, and then a great archway appears in the rock. Moonfall and Duneshade alike step inside, coming to a stop on a great circular platform. Quell glances curiously around us, eyes flicking over the carvings in the ground as he silently sounds out some of the runes. They light up a moment later, and the platform begins to rotate slowly upward. At the same time, the roof above us peels open, and we’re lifted into the city.


    We rise like a corkscrew, and the circular nature of our path provides us with an impressive view as we ascend. As Quell had mentioned, the city extends far back into the cliff; a three dimensional city full of sandstone bridges between buildings and ladders running up and down the side of every wall. I’m so caught up in the view, that I only notice Quell has wandered over to the edge when he’s inches away from plummeting to his death.


    My heart leaps into my throat, and I lunge after him, closing the gap in three frantic steps. I grab his cloak and yank him unceremoniously back, producing a startled squeal from the prince. Everyone turns our way.


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    “Careful!” I cry. “You could have slipped!”


    “Nye, I’m fine!” he objects. “I was perfectly safe.”


    “How is standing on the edge of a drop-off perfectly safe?” I demand.


    “Lord Nye,” Ashla cuts in. “Please don’t be alarmed. The prince is correct; we would not design such a mode of transportation to be so dangerous.” She steps up to the edge and holds out a hand. Instead of passing through open air, however, it stops, and the space around her hand ripples.


    [Check,] Echo says just as I’m wondering what I’m seeing. [Basic barrier spell.]


    Oh. I guess that also explains why my Role Requirement didn’t kick in. Embarrassed, I let go of Quell. “Sorry,” I mumble to Quell as well as Ashla.


    “No, it’s alright,” Quell assures me. “I appreciate the concern!”


    A few of the Moonfall envoys murmur among themselves.


    Darian snorts. “By the way,” she says, a tinge of amusement in her tone. “Don’t make a scene or anything. We want to leave a good impression.”


    “Oh, shut up,” I grumble, wishing I had some illusion powers of my own right now.


    The rest of the tour passes with significantly less drama. The platform takes us all the way to the surface of the mesa, placing us at the base of the palace that rises up before us.


    Servants offer us refreshments as we’re guided through the castle. We’re shown gardens and libraries, stained glass windows and beautiful mosaics. I’m overwhelmed by all the wealth; I don’t think I’ve seen anything half as gaudy in my life.


    Shown to our rooms, we’re encouraged to get some rest and informed a welcome banquet will be held tomorrow at sunrise. When we step inside the chambers—which themselves are made of a dozen rooms that are each larger than my home back on Earth—our belongings have already arrived. I sit heavily on one of the beds.


    “You alright?” Quell asks me as Darian and Liz move on to settle into their own suites. “I know Darian’s already asked you that. But this doesn’t seem to be entirely about keeping me safe.”


    “I’m starting to think that’s an irrational fear,” I admit. “These people seem sincere. The palace is well protected.” Not that I am going to let any of that get my guard down. “But…”


    He waits a moment. “But?”


    I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt so out of place before. All these riches. Formalities, banquets, royalty. This isn’t the kind of life I know.”


    “And you were accustomed to being a knight before meeting me, I take it?” Quell teases. He comes to sit next to me on the bed.


    “That’s different,” I say. “Learning how to fight—protecting someone—that’s familiar, even if it was a different kind of fighting and protecting someone I didn’t know. I’m good at throwing my weight around. Taking hits. Polite society: not so much.”


    “Well if it makes you feel any better, these last few months have certainly been an uncomfortable experience for me as well.” Quell brushes his hand against mine, and I twine our fingers together. The gesture makes me smile. Even after a month, he’s still shy about things.


    “I was in over my head,” he continues. “But you were there to help me at every turn. So maybe now I can return the favor. All this might not be very comfortable for you, but I’ll be here to help you through it. And hopefully that will make it more manageable?”


    “You’re not supposed to comfort me,” I grumble. But he’s right. It will make everything a bit more manageable.


    “Just because you’re my Knight doesn’t mean I’m entirely reliant on you,” Quell teases. “Only about ninety percent reliant.”


    “Ninety-nine,” I say.


    “Ninety-five.”


    “Ninety-five,” I agree.


    Quell chuckles. “Glad my ineptitude has finally been quantified. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about dining etiquette tomorrow before the feast.”


    I grimace. “Please tell me all there is to it is, ‘don’t chew with your mouth open.’”


    Quell laughs. Then he notices I’m not. “Oh, you’re not joking. Oh dear, we might have quite a lot to review.”


    I groan, grabbing Quell’s shoulder and pulling him down onto the bed with me. He laughs as we sink into the purple, downy comforter beside each other.


    “Maybe you can start now,” I suggest, patting down a puff of blanket between us so I can get a better look at him. Laying on his side like this, the bed has pushed his glasses askew. “I’m sure it will help get me right to sleep.”


    “If you fall asleep at the banquet tomorrow, you might cause an international conflict.”


    “God forbid,” I grumble.


    “Gods,” he gently corrects me. “Some of your language is still telling.”


    We’ve been working on that as well. I need to get better at blending in. Pretending to be a foreigner might trick some soldiers, but it’s unlikely to fool anyone well-traveled. There’s a lot of history and culture I still need to absorb.


    I let my hand trail off his shoulder and onto the bed. My other hand is still intertwined with his. Wrapped in comfort like a warm blanket, I let my eyes drift closed. “Tell me another story about the gods,” I say.


    Quell hums thoughtfully. “Have I told you the story of how Lorata lit the sun?”


    “No,” I say. Even if he had, I wouldn’t have objected. He tells stories like he’s reciting them out of a book to little kids; I can’t figure out if it’s silly or endearing.


    “Well, it started when a very hungry monster ate up all the starlight,” Quell says.


    Nah. Definitely endearing.


    “Without the stars, the world was thrown into darkness. Plants withered and died. The desert grew colder than a winter’s night. Some people tried to use magic to make new lights, but the monster gobbled those up as well. Its hunger was bottomless. It searched far and wide for any source of light it could consume. All this time, Lorata didn’t notice, because she was reading books in her library—”


    “Sounds familiar,” I mumble.


    Quell snorts, but doesn’t let my interruption derail him. “And when the creature snuck into her study to eat her candle, there was no light left for Lorata to read her books. ‘This will not do,’ the god said…”


    Quell’s voice becomes a warm, comforting murmur as I drift off. In my dreams, I’m in a lightless void somehow filled with stars.


    <hr>


    The banquet surpasses what I had expected. An incredible wealth of food is displayed on tables in the palace’s great hall, and the air is humid with the smell of smoked meats and freshly baked bread. Liz and Quell are seated by the Moonfall kings, while Darian and I are pushed further down the table. I’m a little nervous being this far away from Quell in such a packed space, but at least I have the Role Requirement to warn me if he''s in any real danger.


    And it’s hard to stay anxious when my mouth is watering at all the plates of caramelized vegetables, baked fruit, and rare slabs of meat. After two months on lean rations, I don’t even know where to begin.


    No one else has begun their feast, however, so I sit back and wait. After a few more minutes of pleasantries, one of the kings finally raises a glass, and the hall quiets down.


    “Today is a momentous occasion,” the Moonfall king says. “We entertain Duneshade royalty with this feast—certainly an outcome neither of our people foresaw transpiring in the near future.” The room rumbles with agreement, some amused, but others, I suspect, slightly more hostile. “May it be a sign of changing winds.”


    “We know many of you may still harbor suspicions of our northern neighbors,” the other king says, picking up where his husband left off. “Indeed, after so many lifetimes of bad blood between our people, such suspicion is not without warrant. Many times in our history have peace talks begun and failed. Yet, this time we are presented with a unique opportunity. A gift presented to us unlike any other.”


    “The Crimson Scimitar,” the first king says, “given freely to us by Prince Quell himself. This gift could easily have been withheld. Indeed, his own knight already holds the Crimson Aegis.”


    The kings’ gazes fall on me, sharp and scrutinizing, and I’m suddenly glad to be seated so far away.


    The look lasts a little bit longer than is comfortable. Darian clears her throat, and when I meet her eyes, she lifts her brows expectantly. Aw, shit, they expect me to do or say something. I was not prepared to give a speech.


    I push my chair back and stand, trying not to be aware of how all one hundred people in this hall are now staring at me. I hold out my arm and summon the Crimson Aegis, which appears with a flash of red magic as it lashes itself to me. Several gasps echo through the room.


    To my relief, the kings don’t appear to expect me to say anything, as they press forward in their address.


    “A commoner rather than a king tasked to wield the shield,” the king says. “The decision is as bold as it is humble. To relinquish such power to the hands of the people is the mark of a wise and modest ruler.”


    I’m not going to be the one to tell him it wasn’t anyone’s decision for the Aegis to latch itself to my arm.


    “As such,” the other king says, “We too have decided to honor the choice to put the distinction of bearing the Crimson Scimitar into the hands of our people.”


    Well that sounds like a terrible idea.


    “As many of you know, last week we opened applications for a contest like no other,” the king says. “An event to test which of our citizens is worthy of ascending to the position of King’s Guard and carrying the Crimson Scimitar at the behest of our people. Those candidates have since been chosen.”


    The doors in the back of the room open, and a dozen people walk through. They split into two groups and begin to file up both sides of the table, heading for the front. The candidates are a mix of humans, arachnoids, and dhampyrs, like most of the people in the Moonfall and Duneshade kingdoms. Some appear incredibly fit, while others seem more meek—though if I had to guess, I’m sure those ones have plenty of magic to compensate. In fact, I don’t have to guess. Curious, I Check each person as they file past.


    [Yequela, level 32 arachnoid arcane archer,] Echo reports, giving me the abbreviated stats as I skim over them.


    [Wisdom, level 24 human water siren.]


    [Marius, level 28 dhampyr battle mage.]


    Most of them are around level thirty. In fact, I haven’t met anyone over forty, yet. I wonder if there’s a point at which it becomes a lot harder to increase your level—or maybe people who don’t have an Echo, like me, level at different rates.


    I’m so distracted by these thoughts that I don’t notice one of the candidates is watching me until he stops directly in front of me, halting the procession behind him.


    I’m immediately on guard as the human looks at me intently, and the Aegis reacts to this, twitching for a fight.


    The man is young with light brown skin and long black hair pulled back from his face. He’s spindly, taller than me, but in the way that indicates it’s all lean muscle and sinew, designed for agility.


    Then his serious expression breaks into a crooked grin, one that strikes me as uncannily familiar. I Check him even as he starts to speak.


    [álvaro, level 25 human monster hunter.]


    “Hey, sib,” my brother says. “Long time no see.”