Refraction, a Rondo of Swords fanfiction

Chapter 5: Of social statuses…

The sun begun set, the orange ball of light descending upon the yellow carpet. The light of the day was receding, and with it, the heat that had plagued them ever since they had entered the Ismael Desert. Selmer relished the coming of the night, finally, he could recover his mana. He had been maintaining a spell to cool the air as the magician, the prince and the horse had trekked through the desert. Prince Serdic had initially protested against the cooling spell, insisting that he did not require such treatment. The prince had only relented when Selmer had said that they would not be able to cross the desert during the day without it. This reason was only partly true, but Selmer had wanted to give the prince what little comfort and aid he could provide.

Prince Serdic's eyes were fixed upon the setting sun, watching the slow transition from day to night. The scene that repeated every day captivated the prince, and for those few minutes, he was always silent. Selmer could understand why. His own eyes drank in the scenery, of the usual yellow sand that was hued orange, of the gradual blue to black gradient of the sky. Shining stars dotted the blue-black sky, and there was naught a cloud in the sky to block their radiance. Selmer had seen this spectacle many a time, yet it never failed to take his breath away.

The moon was clear in the night sky when Prince Serdic finally decided to resume their conversation. "So, Selmer, you said Ice was your devotion? I find it strange that you call your field of study a devotion."

It had become normal to chat with the prince as they journeyed through the sands. The prince was the inquisitive sort, querying about all topics concerning Almeria and magic. It seemed to him that news of the on-goings in Almeria were rare in Bretwalde, so he entertained the prince with stories about failed experiments and magician squabbles. On the occasions that he delved into the theories of magic, he found himself surprised about the depth of knowledge the prince knew. He had not expected that someone trained in the ways of the Holy Knight would understand concepts about mana conversion and elemental instability, but the prince could discuss it for hours. It was to the point that Selmer had once asked if Prince Serdic had learnt magic. The prince reply was to laugh. He said that all he knew was theory, that no matter what he did, he could conjure none of the stable elements. Selmer noted that this did not include Light magic, the magic most closely related to holy lineage of the Bretwaldean royal family. He decided that if the prince had chosen not to say it, he would let the prince have his secrets.

The prince had asked yet another strange question, but as usual, he answered. "Devotion... that word is a relic of the old times, when people regarded magic as power granted from the gods. Hundreds of years ago, there was no concept of the study of magic, and people believed that faith in each of the elemental gods was what that granted people the ability to use each type of magic. Now, only two gods are really worshipped, Valen, the god of light and Amaruel, the god of darkness. But before, there were Islay, the god of ice, Felgius, the god of fire and Kiril, god of lightning. Magicians would call their skills in each element to be their devotions to each of those gods. However, times changed. Magicians became curious as to the source of their abilities and begun to study their abilities, and soon belief in the gods waned. Almeria was one of the first places to properly study magic, and now, no one here believes in the old gods."

"Quite different from Verona." Prince Serdic commented. "Belief in Valen is still very strong."

"You might not want to bring that up in Almeria, Prince Serdic. Almeria and Verona have had multiple conflicts in ideologies..." Selmer advised. The differing belief systems was one of the main reasons why the two countries never became allies.

"I'll keep that in mind." Prince Serdic said with a nod. "I am curious though, does Almeria not study light and dark magic?"

"We do... but practitioners of such magics are rare in Almeria. Light and dark magic are not considered stable elements because we have yet to discover any fixed rules upon how they work. Each individual spell has their own independent principles, and different spells can have principles that contradict each other. This makes the unstable elements difficult to study. In Almeria, a magician's worth is in the number of thesis they are able to produce, so light magicians tend not to be well respected. Light magicians would rather study in Verona compared to Almeria, as they are respected so long as they respect the faith." Selmer explained to the prince. He had left out the explanation for why dark magicians did not come Almeria, and the prince did not press. The prince would surely know about Verona's purges of dark magicians.

Prince Serdic was quiet for a few moments, then suddenly, a smirk appeared upon his face. "Fifth count, Selmer. This makes five meals that you owe me." The prince declared, out of the blue.

Selmer spluttered. He thought back at their conversation, before realising his mistake. "I'm sorry, Pri- No, I mean Altrius..."

Altrius was the pseudonym Prince Serdic had chosen before they had begun their journey. Back in the inn room, the prince had cautioned Selmer against calling him Prince Serdic, lest the name drift to the ears of Grand Meir soldiers. Selmer agreed with the need for an alias, but did not expect that the prince would settle with the name Altrius. It was the name of the Holy King that had established Bretwalde one hundred and fifty years ago. It seemed pretentious to use that name. However, the prince had appealed to the ridiculousness of it, stating that no one would believe that the prince of Bretwalde would call himself Altrius. The air of arrogance left him incredulous and Selmer found himself relenting to the prince's whims. He even ended up agreeing to the prince's bet, where he would owe Prince Serdic a meal each time he had forgotten the pseudonym.

Prince Serdic smirked at Selmer's plight. Usually, the prince would follow up with a small jab at his carelessness, but something in the distance of the desert had apparently caught the prince's attention. Selmer tried to follow the prince's line of sight, but to no avail. They had opted not to use a lantern, so the only light in the desert were the moon and the stars. Under the moonlight, the only really visible features were the rise and dips of the dunes. What was the prince looking at?

"Four desert savages. They are chasing someone." Prince Serdic answered as if hearing his question. He pointed into the distance. Squinting, Selmer was barely able to make out a larger blob chasing a smaller blob. They were moving towards their general direction.

"A hunt at night? It happens occasionally, but only if their target is worth the effort." Selmer mused aloud. He had long ago told the prince about the desert savages, nomads that attacked travellers for their belongings and their women. They had made numerous detours around the common hunting grounds to avoid them. The prince and the mage were only a pair of travellers. They would be horribly outnumbered if they met the hunting groups, which could be up to twenty men strong.

Selmer could see a frown appearing upon the prince's face. He seemed to be wrestling with a thought. Suddenly he acted, slapping a hand against his horse, commanding it to part from him. He turned to Selmer, and spoke as he drew his blade. "I apologise, Selmer. I know we agreed to avoid them, but I don't think I can leave them alone."

"It's alright. I don't condone their actions either." Selmer replied as he tightened his grip over Energeia. The cool feel of the staff helped him to remain calm. In truth, he would rather not engage the savages. The prince was simply too important to risk. However, the prince would not be dissuaded in any short amount of time, and there was no place to hide in the desert. This was an unavoidable battle.

At least, they had the advantage of surprise. The group was nearing them now, and he could now aim at the moving forms.

"Spirits!" He called for them. It was slow, but he felt the swirl of mana pull the sparse amount of ice element out of the desert air. Ice fragments crystallised from the atmosphere, then coalesced together, shaping themselves into an ice lance. The fragile weapon lunged over the savages' target, piercing through the first savage, and shattering upon the second. Neither were fatal wounds, but the ice that clung to their bodies inhibited their movement.

Angered yells shook the air as the savages were alerted to their presence. Their speed increased and soon, the indistinct blobs separated. There were four men, just as the prince had said, and each towered over the young magician. Their singlets exposed their bulging muscles, which allowed them to wield their weapons. Axes, Selmer clarified to himself when the moonlight reflected off one of the savage's blades. The savages were closing in, but the ice element was slow to respond. Thankfully, the prince of Bretwalde was already moving to intercept.

As the sovereign of a knightly kingdom, Prince Serdic's swordsmanship did not disappoint. Selmer watched in admiration as the holy blade easily parried the first savage's wild swings, before slicing towards the man's side. The savage's frostbitten body was unable to respond in time, and the sword sliced cleanly into his abdomen. The prince was not done, dodging around the falling body to go for the other iced savage, intent on capitalising upon their initial advantage. That other fared similarly against the weaving blade and the numbers were trimmed to two versus two.

The remaining two savages had not been idle, trying to rush forward as Prince Serdic was engaged in the melee. However, the prince had skilfully blocked the path of one of them, leaving only one to slip past his guard. The single savage foolishly charged straight at him, making it easier to aim his now ready spell. Selmer was a moment from releasing the spell when he noticed a shadow lunging at the savage. Metallic claws protruded from the savage's neck, the fatal blow leaving another body upon the sands. The savage's mark had struck back, apparently tired of simply running away.

With three against one, the remaining savage re-evaluated his chances. He forced Prince Serdic back with a sudden tackle and chose to flee. However, he did not escape the range of the Ice Shard spell. A flurry of snow drifted down, surrounding the savage. The ice crystals shredded into his skin without mercy. All the savage could do was let out a miserable cry before he collapsed.

Selmer let out a breath he had been holding. He never liked killing, he never liked battle, but he knew the necessity of it. If he wanted to continue to aid the prince, then this would only be the first of many battles to come. He would have to steel himself for the future. At least, this time, he could be comforted by the fact that they had saved someone from being caught by the savages. Selling people as slaves was not the worst they were known to do. He turned to address the once-target of the savages and found himself staring.

It was hard not to. Even in the moonlight, he could make out the inhuman features. The woman's ears were elongated and pointed, and a tufted tail peeked out from the folds of her cloak. Even her amber eyes were faintly glowing. She was one of the rare beastpeople. No wonder the desert savages had continued their pursuit even at night.

He did not realise that the beastwoman had noticed his staring.

Alhambra observed the two boys in front of her. She had never expected that her saviours would be younger than her. They were a strange pair, one a mage not past his mid-teens, another a swordsman verging upon adulthood. Not a pair one would expect to see travelling alone in the desert.

The closer of the two, the mage, was staring at her. She knew the reason why. Alhambra became conscious of her ears and tail, features clearly visible even in the poor light. Her appearance had always bothered her. She did not look like an ordinary human, and this was not of her own will.

She came from a tribe whose name had been long lost. The tribe craved power, honing their bodies to be stronger and sharper. Yet, even when they gained renown as the strongest warriors upon the continent, it was not enough. They wanted to be even stronger. They chose to modify their human bodies, to breach the human limits, and did so by utilising animal bodies. They succeeded. However, the power had its price. The other tribes came to fear their new inhuman appearances and banded together to destroy them. Even with their newfound strength, the beast-like tribe could not win against such numbers and was eventually scattered. Few members of the tribe remained.

Even now, generations later, they- no, she was still hunted. Her ears, eyes and tail marked her as something inhuman. Beastwoman, she had been called. Some of her pursuers just wanted to kill the 'monster', but the worst ones were those that wanted to sell her. She would rather not think of what she would be forced to do if she was caught. It had been close.

"Are you alright?" The swordsman's voice broke the silence as he stepped closer. She noted that his sword was sheathed, and his palms were open and empty. His blue eyes were a mix of curiosity and worry. His heartbeat, a quiet thrum. His concern was genuine.

"You saved me." Alhambra said, feeling touched. Such concern was rare to her. "Who are you?"

The young man's eyes shifted. It had been clear before, but now, the blue seemed murky. Unclear. Then, he blinked and the murkiness was gone. "No one of importance. I'm only glad that we could help." The boy replied.

As if to change the topic, the boy whistled. A horse, of all things, came to the boy's side. The boy dug into the saddle bag upon the horse, tossing a restorative to his magician friend. He offered one to her as well. A quick sniff told her that it was a Pulpy Juice. There was no strange smell nor taste upon it, so she drank without reserve.

"Thanks… You didn't say anything about how I look." Alhambra commented. She had initially thought that the boys were simply too far away, and in the dark of the night, they had not noticed her appearance. But now, they were close enough. The magician was still eyeing her, but the swordsman had only given her a cursory glance.

"Should I have?" Confusion and naivety intermingled in the reply. The response was so… child-like, that Alhambra found herself responding, almost in apology. "No, I didn't mean that."

The young man seemed to pick up that something was wrong. His blue eyes wandered over her again, taking her bestial appearance in full. Yet, the blue orbs did not narrow in disgust or fear. "Well, I'll allow that you have pretty ears." He said after a moment of deliberation.

Of all things, Alhambra did not expect a compliment. Already, she felt the tips of her ears burn.

"Pretty?" She murmured, barely believing his words. She was a beastwoman. A human that looked too different from the norm, that many bastards would love to have as an exotic pet. She had heard a myriad of compliments from them, and in each, she could hear the sneer in their words, of how 'pretty' she was for a sub-human. They had never really meant it.

But for the first time in years, the compliment was sincere. The young man had not a hint of flattery nor sarcasm in his tone when he replied, "Very much so."

The seriousness in his tone made her bark in laughter. The young man drew back, his eyes arched in a "What did I do?" manner, while the magician put a hand on his forehead.

"That's the first time I've heard that one." She admitted when she finally regained control of herself. She felt a slight regret at her uncouth behaviour, towards this boy whose opinions had been earnest. He was the sort of person she would like to travel with, one who had no prejudices against her.

"You guys are heading to Almeria City?" She queried, hoping for an affirmative. It did come, in the form of a bob of the swordsman's head. It felt like the stars had aligned, and she made her decision.

"Same. You know, it's like fate, you rescuing me here. I'm coming with you- and I don't want to hear one word otherwise!"

Selmer's eyebrows had been climbing ever since the prince and the beastwoman begun talking, and finally reached his hairline when the beastwoman made her sudden declaration. She wanted to come with them?

The few seconds that he had remained startled cost him. Before he could muster up a polite refusal, the prince had agreed, stepping forth and offering her a hand. "Welcome abroad. You can call me Altrius. The mage is Selmer." Prince Serdic said with a welcoming smile, taking the decision out of Selmer's hands.

In his opinion, this was a poor decision. The beastwoman, who was introducing herself as Alhambra, would draw attention wherever she went. Her presence would be detrimental to the prince who was supposed to be travelling incognito. Furthermore, she was likely a nomad, who had no real loyalties to the prince. There would be a possibility of her betraying them in the future. He could think of another thirty arguments against this decision, yet he did not raise a single word of complaint. Prince Serdic was still a prince, his status was far higher than what Selmer could hope to reach. Selmer had no authority to ask the prince of anything.

He sighed, letting out the frustration he felt. There was little use dwelling on such things if he had no power to change them. He could not say that he was not interested in her.

"A beastwoman…" The words slipped out of his mouth unintentionally, but the beastwoman reacted as if she had been stung. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she shot back, "Want to make something of it, magician boy?"

At her sudden hostility, the mage realised his error. The name of her tribe had been lost in the ages, and beastpeople had been a derogatory term that had been introduced in its place. She did not like being called by that term.

"I apologise if I sounded confrontational. I'm genuinely interested in your condition." Selmer said with a bow. Then, he shook his head and groaned. "Urgh… that still sounds uncouth."

From the corner of his eye, he saw the prince being amused at his clumsy apology. However, it was apparently enough for the beastwo- Alhambra. She calmed and explained, "Oh, that's fine. I don't really want to show it off though. I'm trying to research this body of mine, to find a way to make me normal. That's why I'm going to Almeria."

"You want to change your current form?" Selmer wondered out loud. This was the sort of subject that Master Arios would love. It would also not hurt to have her in his debt, and would also keep his master away from more… dangerous subjects. Thus, he suggested, "My mentor in Almeria may be able to help in some way. He takes a special interest in extranormal matters. I can't guarantee anything though."

"I'd be happy to get any information." She exulted, and her expression of happiness made him feel slightly guilty for using her.

"I think you misunderstand… You're likely to see results. But I can't guarantee his behaviour." Selmer said as a precautionary. Before she could ask what he meant by that, Prince Serdic interjected.

"I suppose, you have no complaints against Alhambra joining us?" he asked Selmer.

"Since, you have already agreed to her companionship, I cannot disagree." Selmer replied. At the very least, this journey would be an interesting one, with an incognito prince, a mage and a beastwoman.

"Welcome, Alhambra." Selmer said as he offered his hand, accepting the woman into their party.

Two weeks had passed since Prince Serdic had awoken. He had not lain still, instead constantly requesting for information about the on-goings of the world, particularly of what has occurred in Bretwalde and Shalem. Both he and Emir Ansom had spent nights pouring over the Shalem spies' reports. The news had been grim. As the days went by, more and more states of Bretwalde surrendered to the Grand Meir Empire. With each surrender, the morale of the resistance fell, and that led to a destructive chain effect. It was only a few days ago, that the last remaining resisting state, Cale, had surrendered. Bretwalde had fallen completely under Grand Meir's control. The prince had not said anything when the news came in, but even Kay could see that his eyes were no longer as bright as they once were.

The only thing the red knight could do was to remain staunchly by the prince's side. Margus had said that the prince needed moral support more than ever now, so Kay did his best to accompany the prince where he went. For today however, it was the prince accompanying him to the stables.

Just that morning, a report had come to the Emir's attention that the bandits from the Gareh Mountains had been attacking travellers and the nearby villages. Prince Serdic had volunteered his service to help deal with the bandit problem, as a small payment for the Shalemians' hospitality. However, Emir Ansom had been insistent that the prince should continue to rest. Ansom had eventually won the ensuing argument, forcing Prince Serdic to consent to merely lending his knights. Prince Serdic had grumbled that he was well enough to spar as they headed to the stables.

There was no real need for the prince to follow him. The prince's social status meant that he should not deign himself to escorting his knights. However, there was nothing Kay could say when the prince said that he wanted to see Maximus. It was the same as before. Prince Serdic had never cared for the social barrier, always finding reasons to intrude into the knights' activities. He often chatted with the knights to learn about their lives and how they viewed the kingdom. He had known most of the knights on a personal level, and Kay was no exception. The prince had dragged him out to accompany him on horse-riding lessons numerous times.

When they reached the stables, Kay busied himself with preparing Gawain for the journey. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Prince Serdic attending to Maximus. The proud horse greeted his rider with a huff, as if annoyed that the prince had not been able to come see it earlier. Still, it let the prince approach and stroke its mane.

"I heard from Margus. Apparently, my double had been rather insistent on taking Spirit?" Prince Serdic queried when he saw Kay watching.

At Kay's nod, the prince shook his head. "So, he still hasn't conquered that fear…" The prince muttered to himself.

"Fear?" Kay asked. Wasn't the reason why the double had chosen Spirit to ensure Prince Serdic would have Maximus?

"He has not dared approach Maximus since Maximus kicked him. I have told him that it was due to the fact that he startled Maximus by approaching from behind, but still… I suppose that sort of fear cannot be conquered so easily." Prince Serdic explained with a huff and he ruffled his horse's mane.

The prince had a scowl of annoyance, yet his voice was tinged with fondness. Kay had heard the prince speak like this before, before the siege, during the times he brought the sacred sword of Bretwalde into the holy knights' training sessions. The once-a-year event was when the holy knights would be taught first-hand about the true power of Spanta. At the end of the hellish training session, the prince would always complain about how the entire platoon of holy knights did not match a single sacred weapon. Despite his harsh words, he did care, and he always arranged for the next day to be a rest day for the knights.

Yet, there was a difference. When the prince had spoken to his knights, his eyes did not glaze over, neither did the scowl fade in the silence. Was it because of the double's sacrifice? Or did the double have a special place in the prince's mind? Was it both? It was difficult to tell, due in part to the Prince Serdic's quiet depression ever since he had awoken. Whichever it was, the prince was definitely worried. For his double, for his kingdom and even for his knights. He would not have followed Kay all the way to the stables otherwise.

That was why Kay had to act to relieve the prince of his worries, to share what little of the burden the prince allowed him to take on. Standing upright and pounding a fist upon his chest, Kay declared, "Prince Serdic, Margus and I will definitely complete our mission of defeating those bandits!"

For his efforts, Prince Serdic displayed a wry smile. "I would very much like to accompany you, but Ansom's insistence means I have to stay here. So, I will await your triumphant return."

Kay bowed at the prince's words, glad that he could at least elicit a smile from the prince. It was time for him to leave. He mounted Gawain and tapped his heels against the horse's ribs. The horse trotted through the stable doors.

"Please, stay safe."

The three words came so softly that Kay was not even sure if he had actually heard them. They sounded fragile, completely unlike how the prince usually spoke. Kay was gripped by the urge to turn back, to see the prince again, but the stable doors stood between them. It would be simple for him to just turn back, swing the door open and talk to the prince. He did not.

Kay knew Prince Serdic, of how he put up a strong facade, of how he would not want to be confronted when he was at his weakest. The prince had chosen not to share his worries when they had been alone. Prince Serdic would not suddenly begin if he returned. No, returning would be a transgression against the prince.

Thus, Kay did not look back. He set his sights on the mission entrusted to him, so that he could carry this small part of Prince Serdic's burdens. For the rest… for now, there was little he could do.

Chapter 5: Of social statuses… and barriers

-End-

Author's note:

Well, we finally have a temporary name for our double, here, Altrius. I debated a long time before choosing to put this name in, but it was a necessary evil. There is going to be more and more people knowing about him, so I'll need something to refer him by, other than Prince Serdic's double. Note that this is not to say that his name is Altrius. It's a pseudonym of convenience, and when I write in the perspective of the double, he'll likely not call himself that. Well, in these author's notes, I will be calling him Altrius from now on.

This chapter ended up being far more about Altrius side than I imagined. But is it really Altrius being Altrius or Altrius being Serdic? It's probably difficult for readers to figure out at this point, so hopefully future chapters would give you more insight into the characters of our two protagonists. At least, Serdic is being Serdic in his part. Poor Serdic isn't at his best right now, so Altrius might be giving a more accurate portrayal of the Prince of Bretwalde when he's normal.

One of my favourite parts of this chapter is doing the world building about magic and the gods. The game Rondo of Swords doesn't really give too much background about the magic systems, so I will have to fill these gaps with my own headcanons. There is likely going to be more about this in the future, so I hope you enjoy.