Redemption Arc

Lucian followed behind a servant alongside Denzel as they walked through the mansion of House Villamar in the Imperial Capital. He’d been expecting at least some time to prepare, but it seemed that the duke intended to see him immediately right alongside the second prince. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The primary thing that Lucian knew about him from playing War of Four was that he was incredibly pragmatic, and he was dying. That wasn’t a personality trait, though.

“The duke will see you now,” the butler said, bowing and opening the door that they might pass.

Denzel was the first to enter, and he did so eagerly. Lucian had enough foreknowledge to raise a handkerchief to his nose before doing so. The prince started coughing and hacking, and even Lucian could faintly smell something absolutely putrid. The bedroom of Duke Cyril Villamar aligned with Lucian’s memory, filled with purple and silver to embody House Villamar. The smell of the medicine was rancid, and painkilling smoke swirled through the air. In the back of the room behind a canopy bed with purple curtains, Lucian could barely see a figure sitting upright.

“Your Highness,” greeted the duke. His voice was deep and monotonous. “You’ll have to forgive me for being unable to show proper respect.”

“Please. No need for that,” Denzel said respectfully.

“And Lucian,” Cyril continued. Rather than greet his son, he said simply, “Demonstrate your holy affinity.”

In the game, the player had never been allowed to look upon the duke before he died. A lot of people thought that was just laziness on the developer’s part—they didn’t want another character to model. Now that Lucian was here, and with justified excuse at hand, he walked forward and pulled the curtains aside.

The moment that he saw Duke Cyril Villamar, he immediately understood why Charlton had confused the two of them. Cyril looked like an older version of Lucian, though with a far more serious expression. His hair was kept short. His body wasn’t emaciated or withered; rather, much of it was untouched. The parts that were touched had turned completely black. Some kind of disease seemed to be creeping up his body from the arms and legs, slowly moving toward his head. He wore a silken purple bathrobe.

Denzel lowered his head and closed his eyes sadly seeing his idol reduced to this state.

Cyril stared flatly. “Why would you remove the curtains?”

“You told me to show you my holy affinity,” Lucian justified.

“If you can see my silhouette, which I know you can, I could assuredly see any holy spell that you cast.” Cyril’s words sounded like reprimand, but his tone stayed utterly monotonous. “What’s done is done. Forgive any discomfort upon seeing my dying form, Your Highness.”

Denzel put his hand to his chest. “My only discomfort is in seeing such a hero of an empire suffering. I wish there was something I could do.”

The duke didn’t respond, turning his golden eyes to Lucian. “Now, show me what I asked,” he commanded.

Lucian took a step back and held his hand out, casting a simple but eye-catching spell.

“Æshra.”

Beautiful white butterflies appeared before Lucian, drifting in the room. Even Denzel watched with some admiration. Lucian thought they were quite beautiful… but Cyril’s face remained stony, unmoving.

“Your mother tested your affinity when you were young. It was staunchly dark,” Cyril said. “How do you explain this?”

Lucian felt a little offput by Cyril’s tone, so he joked, “Perhaps it’s my saintly behavior.”

Cyril’s face didn’t so much as move, neither in contempt or amusement. “I’ve heard that you received a blessing.”

Lucian was again taken off-guard by the lack of reaction. “I’d use the word ‘earned.’ I think even Denzel could admit that much.”

Denzel looked over, and then gave a curt but grudging nod.

“Blessings are wasted on you,” Cyril said.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed immediately. It wasn’t said with contempt or anger… just detached observation.

“Physically, you’re inept,” the duke continued. “No matter how much effort you put in, you’ll never be peer to those near you. Magically, you have partial arcane paralysis. You cannot reach the heights other will. Those around you are better suited to inherit the blessings of the gods in defense of the people. If you wish to be of service to the world, you should allow your fellows to take any future blessings you come across. Not that I expect you to, of course. Such opportunities are quite rare. It’s unfortunate one was wasted on you.”

Cyril wasn’t even Lucian’s father, but he still felt some collateral damage from those clinical, objective words.

Lucian swallowed, then put his hand on Denzel’s shoulder. “I’m so inept that I managed to defeat Denzel in a duel.”

“You’ve always been clever. I heard you won in unconventional fashions in the magic tournaments. It isn’t unreasonable to assume you played another such trick against the second prince,” Cyril said. “Before you left, I suggested you take up disciplines beyond those magical and martial. Engineering, management, entrepreneurship, et cetera. You’ve ignored that advice. But your exceptional holy affinity has opened up an opportunity for the family.”

Lucian took his hand off Denzel’s shoulder. He was starting to understand why Lucian turned out as he had.

“Opportunity?” Lucian repeated.

“The Heavenwatch Monastery is always looking for new stock to replenish the vigor of its holy bloodline. Now that I’ve confirmed your affinity for myself, I’ll send a dispatch to them suggesting them come verify it for themselves. Once they have, you’ll likely be engaged to one of their members. The match will bestow great prestige and privilege upon Villamar.”

Lucian could only stare. Heavenwatch Monastery? He knew what it was, of course—a secluded community of devotees who worked to sustain purity of their holy bloodline through deeds and blood. They possessed strange transformative magics upon which purity of their holy affinity was exceptionally important. They took in outsiders only to avoid problems that came with insular communities—consanguinity. They were the subject of a major story mission in the late game, wherein they were all turned into demonic beasts by one of their own, who herself became a major recurring boss.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Rowan was lured to Heavenwatch under similar pretenses, Lucian reflected. But it was a trap. This time… this time, it seems genuine.

Lucian was so stunned that he couldn’t say anything. How did this factor in? Would he be expected to visit Heavenwatch, as Rowan had? It changed so many variables he couldn’t quite know how it factored in. Opportunity or peril—he wasn’t quite sure which it was.

“There’s a reason that I summoned both of you here.” Cyril looked between Lucian and Denzel. “Prince Denzel. You will succeed me as Duke of Villamar.”

Lucian couldn’t help but laugh immediately upon hearing that. Of course. The hell was I expecting?

Denzel didn’t immediately react, instead asking, “Why?”

“Because I believe you are best suited to protect the people of this territory and lead it to greater prosperity,” the duke said simply. “And you may serve as a suitable counterweight to Prince Algard, who has arbitrary tendencies. Lucian, meanwhile, is lacking. Given his past behavior, there should be no issues if I announce you as heir.”

Lucian shook his head. “No room for negotiation?”

Cyril looked at him. “Metterand has praised you, along with my own watching eyes. Even if your attempt at reform is genuine, it’s too late.”

“Why did you prop me up all these years, then?” Lucian asked, more out of curiosity than anything. “Indulging all my whims without hesitation.”

“Your mother insisted, and I made misjudgments,” the duke said matter-of-factly. “I assumed that you might be able to make something of yourself even crippled as you are. As I mentioned, you’re clever. I did not understand the allure of hedonism.”

Lucian watched the duke. An emotionless man—that was his impression.

“What’ll you give me to ensure that I don’t contest this?” Lucian dared ask, hoping to at least extract something out of this.

Cyril looked at Lucian. “That changes my calculus. If you contest this, I would have your brother-in-law remove his protections keeping you safe. You’ll almost inevitably be murdered. The prestige lost from your death is of lower value than the diplomatic leverage we might receive from it, especially if you’re uncooperative.”

Lucian scoffed. In his own callous way, the duke wasn’t any better than Metterand.

“Your Highness. If it pleases you, we’ll speak later about what this means. For now, I’d like to speak to Duke Metterand. I suggest you speak to your father.” He gestured out. “And Lucian. Until the envoy from Heavenwatch comes, you’re to remain in Golvenne.”

Lucian turned, his mind swimming with new information. Maybe not all is lost. Inheritance of the dukedom doesn’t matter—realistically, I was never going to get that. But on the subject of money, the duke said ‘my mother insisted.’ If I can get her on my side, maybe I can get the allowance.

There was a lot to consider. He needed some quietude to edit his plans.

***

Denzel shut the door to Duke Cyril’s room, and then looked at Lucian tentatively. Despite those utterly heartless words, Lucian didn’t seem angry. His own father had disowned him and threatened to see him killed, but he looked lost in thought and nothing more.

Heir to the Duchy of Villamar. It was everything Denzel wanted.

Lucian caught Denzel’s gaze, and looked over. “You must be very pleased. Congratulations,” he said, offering his hand.

Denzel stared at the hand in disbelief. In this situation, Lucian was congratulating him?

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on getting in your way,” Lucian said. “No? Too soon for handshakes? Well, fine. Don’t forget out bet. Try and persuade the emperor.” With that, Lucian said nothing more and set off down the hall.

Denzel watched Lucian go for a little bit. He’d just been given everything that he wanted. He’d been acknowledged by the man he admired most, and even been named heir to the Duchy of Villamar. In time, he would have the means to protect his mother and his treasured people. It came at the expense of someone he despised, even.

Then why did he feel so awful?

***

Lucian walked down the hallway of the Villamar estate in the capital, still trying to process how his situation had changed. He intended to head to his quarters and plan out all the changes this would precipitate. Visiting Heavenwatch early… would that trigger the events of the game early, or might it simply be an opportunity for him to capitalize on?

As he was walking, he was suddenly slammed hard in the side. He grunted in panic for a bit, craning his head to see what had hit him. A woman with gray hair had latched onto him. She was hugging him quite fiercely.

“What are you…?” Lucian asked, perplexed.

“Cate…!” he heard in the distance. Soon enough, a woman ran into view. Things clicked into place in his head. “Cate, you…!” She came to a stop when she spotted Lucian, and sighed deeply. “Young lord… thank the heavens. She got away from me. I was so worried she’d hurt herself again…” She sighed in total exhaustion.

Lucian studied Cate. As he did, a vision came to his head. Lucian was younger—so was his sister. She rode on his back silently, looking around at the world in wonderment. It was a very quick vision, fading as quickly as it arrived. Once it was gone, Lucian smiled. He kneeled down.

Like she’d been waiting for it, Cate hopped onto Lucian’s back. He rose, giving her a piggyback ride. He felt a little embarrassed doing this, but smiled and laughed. What was he thinking?

“Young lord…” the woman said uneasily—presumably, she was Cate’s caretaker.

“Where are we going?” Lucian asked.

The caretaker smiled kindly. “The young lady has been very excited to reunite with you. Perhaps… you could spend some time with her, as you once did?”

Lucian considered that. He looked up at Cate. She looked around like she was seeing the world for the first time, an innocent smile on her face. This was probably a mistake, but… he couldn’t help but think of his own younger sister. She was a piece of work, but he missed her. He couldn’t help but sympathize with Cate.

“Guess we’ll be in my room,” Lucian decided.

Lucian set off down the hall, having acquired a sister. Maybe Lucian’s life wasn’t totally loveless, after all. Perhaps he’d been kind to at least one person in his life.

***

Lucian had been worried Cate would be highly disruptive, but it was rather the opposite. Cate never said anything. She didn’t so much as grunt. She was completely silent and still as Lucian went through his Evercodex in his quarters in the estate. She sat on a chair beside his, examining his Evercodex incredibly intently as she clung to his arm. Her staring had been uncomfortable at first, but he’d gradually grown used to it. She seemed totally transfixed.

“Cate?” Lucian said. She didn’t stir. He touched her head, and she whipped her eyes to look at him. She smiled. “Cate, I need to go out.”

Cate stared. He wasn’t sure if she understood him. Lucian swallowed.

“C’mon,” Lucian said, standing. “Let’s get you to someone that can take care of you.”

He stood up, bringing Cate with him to find someone that could look after her. Lucian had a bunch of minor errands to attend to in Golvenne. Then, he intended to check if the blessing he wanted to get was here. He also needed to speak to Lydia Villamar, his mother.

And if the stars aligned... perhaps he could complete his first task as the Last Inquisitor.