Redemption Arc

It was morning. Lucian hadn’t slept particularly well, but that wasn’t anything new. When he tried to go to sleep, his mind kept wandering both to those bandits and those people he’d seen jumping from their boats as they fell into the waters. In the end, he elected to distract himself by updating the Evercodex. He reviewed what he’d changed now that he’d slept on it.

HP: 22 (+8)

STR: 14

CON: 15 (+2)

DEX: 17 (+3)

SPD: 17 (+4)

MAG: 21 (+5)

The page was starting to get densely clustered with his edits. It was a shame he didn’t have an eraser… or whiteout, maybe. These were decent starting stats for a mage. Unfortunately, they had moved past the start, so they were still below-par. His health was on the low side—comparatively, Rowan had around 32 at the game’s start—but magic and speed were solid.

Now, all Lucian needed to do was maintain this rate of growth.

After completing the first mission, the game opened up a great deal. A lot of blessings appeared around the world upon its completion, alongside a huge suite of side quests. The next story mission would take place in a month, where they’d travel to the Empire of Riverra. If Lucian wanted Miriam to keep making alchemical concoctions suited for it, he needed to plan his lies in advance.

Planning lies… not my favorite pastime, thought Lucian, reviewing what he’d written down. But… I might be able to help others prepare at the same time as me.

Fortunately, he didn’t think that he needed Miriam to make any highly specific items for a long time. They were all going to be multipurpose potions that didn’t need some elaborate explanation to justify. At this point, he intended to focus on things that empowered him, rather than things like the Lightning Callers or the Rimecores.

Breaking past 20 MAG opens up a lot of spells for me, Lucian reflected, running down the list. And since Miriam can be relied on to make my potions, I have more time than I was anticipating.

Lucian needed to secure all the blessings he could—that was the only way he could keep up with the absurd rate the others trained. By tomorrow, the gap between him and them would be widening. By the time of the next story mission, the others would all have upper-twenties for their stats.

Lucian was about to close his book when he heard a knock at the door. He turned his head to look at it and called out, “Come in.”

Walter entered, pausing at the threshold. “Your breakfast is prepared. Chancellor Metterand has chosen to eat in.”

Lucian nodded, and Walter shut the door. He shut his journal and tapped on the cover with his finger, sighing in exhaustion.

***

“I have something that you need to do for me,” Metterand said, cutting his veal. “I mentioned this, did I not?”

Lucian couldn’t stomach meat today, so he ate some buttered bread. “You did.”

“It’s come to my attention that Rowan is taking it upon himself to investigate the incidents that have been occurring,” Metterand continued, pausing to put some meat into his mouth. “And he’s using the Student Ambassadors for that purpose.”

“True,” Lucian confirmed. He tried not to be bothered by the man’s chewing, but it did bother him.

“I need you to stay close to that,” Metterand said, looking up. “Keep me informed.”

“Simple enough,” Lucian said, glad it wasn’t something unreasonable.

“I might ask you to do more in case this actually leads anywhere.” Metterand shrugged. “I don’t have special concerns. He’s still almost a child. But you…” the chancellor studied him with those clouded eyes of his. “I heard that you distinguished yourself when those monsters came. Claimed a blessing of the gods, even.”

“You told me to,” Lucian pointed out.

“I did. I did…” Metterand cut into his veal once again. “If you keep this up, the duke may summon you to visit him.”

“I thought that he wasn’t receiving any visitors.”

“Are you a visitor, or are you his son?” Metterand asked pointedly. “I sent him a letter praising your conduct. Still, he has his own independent informants. I have little doubt he’s heard of what you’ve done himself. Perhaps you may redeem yourself in his eyes yet.” He finished off his veal, and then wiped his face. “And if anything… your holy affinity is sure to attract his attention. How that came to pass, I have no earthly idea.”

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In the War of Four, the player didn’t meet the duke until he was on his deathbed. There was a mission that took place on his estate not long after his death—it was the capstone for the section of the story in the Empire of Riverra. Lucian didn’t know what he could achieve by meeting the duke early, but it didn’t sound good. Sounded like a fat waste of time, frankly, and one that might get him into trouble.

“I’m going to head to the Collegium.” Lucian rose, wiping crumbs off his hands.

“One more thing,” Metterand said, raising his finger up. “Your father has instructed me to get a gift for you for bringing honor to House Villamar with your conduct thus far. I’ve picked one out.”

Lucian shifted on his feet. “Meaning…?”

“A fiancée.”

Lucian stared, blinking a few times. “Did I hear you right?”

“It’s a good thing. Even if you don’t become heir to the dukedom, if you have a fiancée… in the empire, they need to provide compensation for breaking an engagement.” Metterand gestured. “Consider it a gesture of my goodwill, in case I’m unable to restore you as heir. I have some respect for the talented. Perhaps I was unduly harsh to you. Perhaps you can learn.” He waved him away. “Now, go.”

Lucian turned and left the dining room, wondering why he was working on Metterand’s schedule in what was ostensibly his home. He headed toward the door, his thoughts racing as he did so. A fiancée? The duke must’ve been trying to earn Lucian’s favor now that he was proving to be more than a lowly provocateur.

The price of competence, Lucian thought grimly.

He had no idea where this was taking him, but he wasn’t quite happy about it.

Maybe he’s right, though, Lucian thought. Maybe I can get some compensation. A fearsome father-in-law buying me off to stay away from his daughter.

Something told Lucian this wouldn’t resolve itself so uncomplicatedly.

***

Lorenna Brumaire walked out from her bedroom, rubbing her eyes from fatigue. Last night had been a calamitously exhausting endeavor. The fight against that golem, followed by tending to the wounded… holy magic users never lacked for work. If she was going to do life over again, she’d choose a different specialty.

She paused mid-step when she spotted a figure sitting at her dining table. Her niece, Helen, looked over with tired eyes.

Lorenna shook her head and resumed walking. “You should stop letting yourself in. If I was a bit more tired, I might’ve cast a spell at you by instinct,” Lorenna said, walking past her. She looked at the young girl. Yesterday might’ve been her first experience seeing people die—perhaps she should be softer. “What do you need, Helen?”

“I just… I have a bunch of questions.” Helen toyed with a fork on the table.

“Then we’d best get into them quickly, elsewise we might both be late,” Lorenna said. She moved forth and sat at the table. “Talk to me.”

“Is it always like that?” she asked immediately.

Lorenna pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “Yeah, it is. It doesn’t change. But you will, hopefully. The reason why Student Ambassadors are put through such a thing is to temper them to handle situations like that.”

Helen nodded. “Something felt wrong about that fight. Not just with those monsters—with the brigands, too. It felt… felt like they had no desire to stay alive.” She looked over. “But then, we had someone like that on our side.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. But I know that I need your help.”

“My help? Helen, I’m busy enough as is,” Lorenna said. “I can’t take the time to tutor you on holy magic until—”

“This isn’t about holy magic,” she interrupted. “I need to know about the events that happened recently. More than that, I need to know about the past.”

“The past?” Lorenna repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“I need to know about the Inquisition,” Helen said, and Lorenna’s face grew grimmer. “And I’d also like to know about Duke Cyril Villamar.”

Lorenna leaned in. “You know that I can’t discuss the Inquisition.”

Helen faced her steadfastly. “People are dying, auntie, left and right. You were there. You treated them!” She shook her head fiercely. “Forget what you can or can’t do. You need to tell me this.”

Lorenna leaned back in her chair, sighing deeply. “What does any of that have to do with Duke Cyril Villamar?”

“That’s an entirely separate matter. At least, I think it is.” Helen studied her. “You worked with him, correct?”

“I was a Student Ambassador alongside him,” she said. “I knew him well.”

“What was he like?” Helen asked.

“He was…” Helen thought long and hard. “He was a man who made no mistakes. Dignity, propriety, sobriety… he embodied those traits.”

***

Thick hazy smoke danced around a dimly lit bedroom that had luxury and finery enough to suit a king. The bed was a gargantuan thing, though shrouded in curtains. Behind the curtains, one could faintly make out the figure of a tall, lean man sitting upright. Much of the decorations in the house were purple, and featuring prominently was the sigil of House of Villamar: a purple butterfly. A well-dressed servant stood before the curtains, reading a letter.

“The young master comported himself excellently in the battle,” the servant read. “In the battle against the brigands, he demonstrated no fear of his enemy and aided in taking down their chief. When crisis emerged, he demonstrated remarkable poise and bravery in protecting his allies and claiming a Blessing of the Gods.” He lowered the paper. “That’s what the report says. It’s very similar to what was written in the letter from Duke Metterand, Your Grace.”

Silence extended. The servant didn’t move.

“Summon him,” said Duke Cyril Villamar. “I would see his affinity for myself.”

“I shall send a letter doing precisely that,” the servant said, bowing and leaving.