Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Knife In The Night

With the occasional hiss of steam, the plateau lift continued trundling its way up the cliff face towards Asamaywa. Peering over the railing and looking down, Noburu could see the slums fade away until they merged into one great smear of gloom and grey. As the distance grew, he felt a growing sense of liberation. Living in the slums was a sordid experience; he always felt a little dirty, no matter how much he washed. He somehow felt cleaner by riding the lift and rising above it all.

He glanced at the woman next to him. Seonmi stood tall, wearing the uniform Yoshiro provided them both. There was no way the lift guards would’ve allowed them through with how they usually looked, even with a bribe, so they’d been forced to get into character immediately and use their forged travel permits. The guards barely gave them a second look before letting them through.

The truth was that as long as you look and act the part, people will naturally assume you are who you say you are. A grimy slum-dweller wearing patchy clothes trying to charm his way through the gates would never succeed. However, Noburu and Seonmi, with their good posture, clean uniforms, documents, and well-spoken accents, didn’t face such scrutiny. No one suspected they were destitute and scraping by on the bottom rung of society.

Seonmi was looking out at the vast expanse of the lowlands with a neutral expression. Noburu had known the woman for nearly five years now. She’d been the one to introduce him to Yoshiro. She possessed an interesting mix of Manwese and Ainese features: sharp eyes with thick-based horns that ended in the stereotypical Ainese twist. Those very same sharp eyes now glanced his way. They weren’t as crimson as his own. Instead, they were a memorable blood-orange.

He suspected she might have been highborn. Something about how she carried herself, even in the slums, reminded her of himself. He’d once heard a rumour of a sister called Haneul, and suspected Seonmi might be estranged in some manner, but he’d never investigated it further. If you start poking about in other people's business, then they’ll do the same to you, and when people poke others in the shadow of Asamaywa, it’s often done by the pointy bit of a knife.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice soft.

“You’re being quiet,” he murmured before pointing to her white-knuckled hands gripping the lift’s railings. “Not fond of heights?”

“I’m just… looking at the ships,” Seonmi replied. She nodded skywards. 

Noburu followed her direction to see a light frigate escorting a transport into the docks above. A year ago, transports rarely needed a convoy guard but now it was far more frequent a sight. He’d heard guards whispering about increased piracy in the south. Perhaps that’s where that ship had sailed from?

“Do you know how expensive it is to keep those things in the air?” Seonmi. “How much money it costs to buy the crystal fuel? Think about how much food you could buy. And the military expenditure…” She shook her head. “Every manufactured shell could be a sack of rice. It just feels so… wrong.”

“...I know,” Noburu replied. After you’ve been poor and hungry for long enough, your worldview develops in one of two ways: Either you become indifferent to your struggle, seeing your place in society as a natural inevitability, or, as Noburu had, you become angry at the wealthy spending so much on frivolous items. Why spend so much gold on some paint on canvas or that porcelain vase from Hokanai when you could feed a hundred orphans for a year instead?

It's why he never felt bad for stealing from them.

Noburu disagreed on one point. The ship wasn’t a waste. Sure, the shells inside them were wasteful, but the ship itself? A ship was freedom. A ship meant untold prospects and opportunities. If he could save up and buy even a small fishing ship, then he just needed to make one catch of sardis, and he’d be set for decades. He could take Kiku and the kids away from their life of poverty and into the clean air of upper-sky!

Even if he couldn’t do that, he could get everyone on a train to a new life. Far below him, the lowlands were etched with the steel of the Eastern Railway. Tracks stretched from the base of Asamaywa out into the lowlands before breaking off into the north, east, and south. The northbound tracks snaked through industrial areas and farming towns before curving back towards Asamoto. To the east, they stretched into the horizon, where on a day with better weather, he would have been able to make out the mountain tops of Nachon more than two hundred kilometres away. The last few tracks turned south, either linking up to Asamino or going to the Far Eastern cities of Fengra and Hokanai.

His true home that he didn’t remember.

The lift shuddered and hissed as it came to a stop. Noburu gave himself a quick mental slap to put him in character. A glance and nod from Seonmi told him she’d done the same. They queued up where a bored-looking customs officer was filtering through documents. When it came to Noburu and Seonmi, he raised an eyebrow, his gaze flittering from the travel documents to them.

“Says here you came trainbound from Fengra to Asamaywa, but you got off early in the lowlands. Why’d you stop, eh…” He flicked back to their identification documents. “Miss Yoo-jung? What business did you have down below?”

“We got an aethergram before we left,” Seonmi answered immediately. “Farmers thought they might have found something ploughing the fields. We stopped by to consult. Turned out to be nothing.”

“Right,” the customs officer yawned. “And you, Mr Kim, what’s your business in Asamaywa?”

“Restoration work at the Asamaywa Officer Academy,” Noburu answered. “Twenty-day contract. It’s all there in the yellow sheet." He gestured to the document in the officer's hands. The demon skimmed it before returning everything to them and jerking his thumb.

“Go through,” he intoned.

Thanking the officer, the pair passed and entered Asamaywa proper. Noburu had only had cause to enter the city a few times, but every time he did, it surprised him how much louder it was. Hundreds of demons moved this way and that, with yells and bells filling the air. It was a stark contrast to the threatening silence that permeated the slums.

The two walked through the city, stopping only a few times to get their bearings. Soon, they found their pre-booked accommodation and signed in. It was a small, slightly run-down hotel sectioned off from the main streets. The owner showed them to their rooms before leaving them to themselves.

Noburu pressed an ear to the closed door, only giving Seonmi a nod when the owner's footsteps had disappeared.

“Once we’re in the academy, hells, when we’re even near it, we need to make sure we only communicate with signals,” Seonmi said, yawning and stretching out on the cheap mattress.

“Right,” Noburu replied. Everyone knew that warriors and mages had ways to increase their perception. They had a hawk's eyes, a wolfhound's ears, and the reaction speed of a sardis. They would be quite literally surrounded by them in the academy, which meant they couldn’t afford to even whisper to each other about their true intentions. They could only communicate with hand signals when they were sure they weren’t in sight of anyone else.

“What now? Tools?” He asked. He’d spent the last several days absorbing as much knowledge he could about artefacts and restoration. He’d spent long hours in Yoshiro’s den practising using the equipment he was supposed to have mastered - everything to sell the illusion that they knew what they were doing. 

Instead of bringing the aged and half-broken tools they’d practised on, Yoshiro gave Seonmi enough money for them to buy everything they needed. They would look for good quality second-hand sets or purchase new ones and then quickly weather the tools. Then, they planned to spend the little time they had left practising further before the arranged meeting inside the academy.

All they needed was to get inside and locate the target artefacts they were tasked with stealing. Then, all Seonmi needed to do was make an excuse to leave, leaving Noburu alone with the items he could steal and then escape using his blessing.

He tapped his horns reassuringly. 

What could go wrong?

Amelia felt rather proud of herself. She’d decided on the bright idea of simultaneously fulfilling both Hinako’s request for tutoring and Mel’s request for sparring. She’d taken advantage of her academy privileges and booked out a training room, arranging to meet the two women there at the allotted time. Serena had invited herself along, claiming that her expertise would help evaluate Mel’s swordsmanship. However, Amelia suspected Serena really wanted to make sure Amelia wouldn’t do something too amazing and cause more problems.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

She was a little surprised when she stepped through the door to find Mel, Hinako, and Serena with no less than three additional students! All six demons turned simultaneously and set their gazes upon Amelia. Serena’s eyes carried the most familiarity, followed by Mel, then Hinako, and finally, the three students, whose faces possessed a mixture of excitement, wonder, and apprehension.

The first unfamiliar demon was a male whose features reminded Amelia of Katalin. He had reddish-brown hair and purple eyes - a Northerner. The man clearly took pride in honing his body. He was well built, although not quite at Tomes of Dagon's level.

Notably, the remaining two unfamiliar students, one male and one female, possessed only a single horn curving out from the center of their forehead. It was a variation of demon horns that Amelia had learned was more common in the ethnic Aindo part of the demon race centred around the Far Eastern cities of Nachon, Fengra, and Hokanai. Their eyes were a fascinating burnt orange, starkly contrasting the typical crimson hues she’d got used to around the ethnic Samino like Serena.

They both possessed extremely similar features. Perhaps they were brother and sister?

“Morning!” Amelia exclaimed cheerfully, walking up to the group.

“Assistant Instructor Thornheart!” the group of students intoned. Mel and Hinako bowed while the three students Serena brought along snapped to attention with a salute. The northern demon stood with his right hand in a closed fist on the left side of his chest in what Amelia had learned from Katalin as the traditional northern salute. Meanwhile, the two Aindo students performed the standard Imperial salute of raising their hands to their temple.

So cool! Only…

“Don’t salute,” Serena said, clicking her tongue. “She’s not in the chain of command.” Once the three students had dropped their salutes, Serena gestured towards the Northerner and explained, “Amelia, this is Second-Year Flakken Holm from Fiegerfel. He finished his training deployment and is due to graduate this semester. And these,” Serena waved towards the two one-horned Aindo students. “Are Ido and Arin Song, from…?” Serena trailed off, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Hahoe Village!” Ido exclaimed, his posture as straight as a plank of wood.

“It’s in the Fengra lowlands!” Arin continued, her posture matching their brothers.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Assistant Instructor Thornheart!” Ido said.

“If a human such as yourself became a Lord-Prospect, then us lowborn have a chance!” Arin added with a grin before realising what she had said and sheepishly apologising.

Amelia giggled. “It’s nice to meet you! I like your horns! They’re so pretty!” Her compliment had the desired effect, with the brother and sister touching their horns and mumbling to each other, “Whoa, she said she liked them!”. On the other hand, Serena simply rolled her eyes in the background.

“Nice to meet you as well, Flakken,” Amelia intoned cheerfully. “Other than Katalin, you’re the only other Northener I’ve seen in the academy! What made you travel all the way down here?”

“Better prospects, Assistant Instructor Thornheart,” Flakken replied. Apparently, the man didn’t do small talk because that was the end of his explanation. Thankfully, Serena spoke before the silence could develop into something awkward.

“Flakken’s orange is solid,” Serena explained. “He’ll likely reach yellow within a year. Ido and Arin have both reached orange and need to spend a few months solidifying it. That’s what I’ve offered to help with. They are…” She paused as if looking for the right words. “Prospective talents?”

“Oh,” Amelia nodded. “I see!”

She hadn’t forgotten the original purpose of them coming here. Serena was looking for prospects to build out an elite team of mages and warriors so they could fulfil the mysterious task set out by Chesterfield to collect the lost shards of a shattered soul. They had to be picky with who they chose, looking for talents that were both skilled but also without too much bias regarding humankind. These students - Flakken, Ido and Arin - were prospective recruits!

“As for you, Melanie Mori,” Serena intoned, turning her gaze towards Mel. “I can see you’re on the verge of crossing into orange. That’s good. We’ll make that step in the coming weeks and see how you hold against Amelia’s red.”

“R-red?” Mel’s eyes widened. She turned to face Amelia. “You’ve formed red?”

“Yeah!” Amelia gave the girl an encouraging thumbs up. “Remember, I told you I was close?”

“I see…” Mel mumbled before tightening her fists until the knuckles were white. She didn’t appear upset; Amelia could practically see the determination oozing out of her. It seemed like Amelia’s recent success had ignited Mel’s spirit! 

With the initial introductions finished, Amelia and Serena conducted their personalised training sessions. With Serena taking all four warrior candidates aside, Amelia felt a little short with just Hinako. However, when it came to begin the session, she was glad Hinako was the only mage she had to tutor.

Her prior talk with Sarafina proved to be fruitful. Amelia took Hinako aside and cheerfully explained that she had unusual circumstances and that despite her magical achievements, Amelia lacked a proper formal education in magical theory. After receiving this explanation, Hinako nodded as if she had been expecting that all along.

Hinako explained she was struggling with forming Igni’s second-circle wards and attacks efficiently and that if Amelia exaggerated the construction of the formations while flaring her aether, Hinako would be able to follow along and develop her own understanding by sensing Amelia’s aether flows.

Of course, Amelia understood that what Hinako thought she meant by flaring and what Amelia’s flaring would actually be were very different. Not wanting to cause Serena more problems or have the grandmaster shout at her again, she requested Hinako display her best effort. The student obliged, and through this, Amelia got a rough estimate of the level of aether she should demonstrate.

The lesson continued, and Amelia quickly discovered, to Hinako's amazement and frustration, was that how Amelia constructed formations was unusual compared to the standard way that was formally taught in the academy.

Where Hinako rigidly constructed her spell in discrete steps, each building upon the previous to form the final complicated structure, Amelia’s aether simply formed into the final construction almost immediately. The method wasn’t entirely unknown; Hinako explained that expert duelists spent thousands of hours refining specific spells using a similar technique called Simultaneous Construction. However, the way Amelia did it was more elegant and refined than anything Hinako had seen or read about before.

“I just can’t fathom how it all comes together so fast! It’s like one continuous flow of aether, never getting in the way of each other!” Hinako shook her head. “I can’t see myself reaching this level even if I spend my entire life practising!”

“Think of it like learning an instrument,” Amelia offered. “When you first try, you’re thinking of everything from the position of your hands to how hard you pluck the strings. As you practise, bits will automatically fall into place, freeing up your focus so you can pay full attention to other bits!” It wasn’t the best analogy she could come up with; Amelia never had the energy to learn an instrument in her previous life. A better example might be her experience in raids from the game, where after hundreds of hours in perfecting her skill rotations, making minor adaptions to different scenarios was surprisingly easy. Unfortunately, that was an analogy she was sure Hinako wouldn’t understand.

Hinako seemed determined to learn Amelia’s method of spell construction and requested to see her aether flowing again and again. By the end of the lesson, Hinako claimed she was close to getting a ward to activate using Amelia’s intuitive method.

“Are you sure learning this way is going to help you?” Amelia asked, her brow furrowing slightly, concerned at how tired Hinako looked.

“I think so,” Hinako answered, wiping sweat from her face. “The Imperial Stepwise method of spell construction is suitable for most people, but the way you use this… Simultaneous Construction method definitely has a higher efficiency ceiling if you put in enough time!” She took a few breaths. “Not to mention, the potential time saved is critical in professional duelling! Even a half-second advantage can differentiate between a win and a loss!”

Hinako came from a family of semi-famous mage duelists and was determined to follow in their footsteps. Hinako explained that she planned to graduate, do her time as a mage in the army or navy, then be honourably discharged from the military and pursue a career as a duelist. There were half a dozen public arenas in the Three Sisters, always open to welcoming a new talent. Hinako could build a name for herself in those arenas and then move on up elsewhere. The sport was apparently massive in Centralis and the South.

With Hinako nearly exhausting her aether reserves, the session ended naturally. Amelia felt like she hadn’t done much other than sit there and be observed while she formed spells, but Hinako seemed satisfied.

Amelia turned to see that Mel and the faces of Flakken, Ido, and Arin were ashen and tense. They were all forced to hold their swords out in an exaggerated zenkutsu-dachi front stance. By the exhaustion on their faces, they’d been holding that stance for a long time. Some of their arms would shake and lower slightly, but a quick tap with Serena’s sword would have them straighten again.

Seeing Amelia finished, Serena barked, “Relax!” The four students gasped as they returned to a more natural standing position, lowering their arms with visible relief. “Bow!” Serena ordered. The students snapped to attention and bowed deeply. Serena returned the bow, signalling the end of the lesson.

While the tired students formed an impromptu group to recover and drink water, Serena pulled Amelia to the side. “How’d it go?” Serena asked.

“Good!” Amelia flashed a thumbs up. “I only really demonstrated spells, but it seems it helped her a lot!” She nodded her head towards the recovering warriors. “Where did you find them?”

“They stood out to me,” Serena explained. “Flakken voiced his interest in learning from me, and I accepted because he’s been the only one brave enough to ask. As for the twins, I overheard them defending you to some other students.” Serena dropped her voice low. “They’re from the Fengra lowlands - not an easy place to move up from. Their finding a placement here is a testament to their determination and talent. They’ve probably faced some discrimination for their horns, so they probably feel like their situation is similar to yours.” Serena’s mouth moved into a sly smile. “They’re also a pair of enthusiastic idiots that want to travel the world, so I thought they’d be a perfect fit.”

“Oi!” Amelia protested.

“Come on,” Serena motioned, hiding a smile. “Let’s arrange a time for the next session, and then…”

“Then?” Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“Then we can have some private training. Work on your, uh, aura,” Serena mumbled, not meeting Amelia’s eyes.

“Sure!” Amelia giggled. Honestly, her girlfriend was just insatiable. What devilish influence had turned the infamous Captain Halen into such a risque demon?

Not that she was complaining!

Mel woke to silence. She looked up, and her dark bedroom ceiling looked back. Why had she woken? She’d been fast asleep, and now she felt wide awake. Did she have a bad dream?

She sat up, rubbing her aching shoulders. Instructor Halen had put her and her fellow students through one of the most intense training sessions she’d ever had. Still, if that was what it took to break into orange and defeat Amelia’s red aura, then so be it!

The nighttime chill made her shiver, so Mel manifested her red aura, relying on its supernatural properties to protect her from the cold. She reached for a cup of water by her bedside, suddenly freezing.

What was that?

A subtle creak from next door. A movement of the floorboards.

Had Amelia returned? Once again, she’d told Mel she wouldn’t return that night. Mel had started to wonder if she really did have a man or if something else was going on. Regardless, it would be problematic if she stuck her horns into someone else’s business. Amelia seemed to have a favourable opinion of Mel and she didn’t want to ruin that.

Another creak.

Mel climbed out of bed. She didn’t need to wear her uniform; she would only check if Amelia wanted anything. She was awake anyway, so she might as well fulfil her duties.

Lightening a lantern, Mel exited her room. She strode the length of the corridor, stopping outside Amelia’s room.

Quiet.

She knocked lightly. “Amelia?” Mel called.

No answer.

Mel opened the door, stepping into the darkness of Amelia’s quarters. The lantern didn’t do much to pierce the darkness, so she strained her aura a little further, enhancing her eyesight. Nothing seemed amiss in the reception area.

Mel proceeded into Amelia’s bedroom. Amelia’s bed lay, still tidy from when Mel made it the night before. So Amelia hadn’t returned then. Then what… ah. Mel caught sight of a window slightly ajar.

Sighing, she closed the window, and as she did, the realisation that she’d closed it earlier formed in her mind. If she closed it, that meant someone opened it. If someone opened it, that meant…

Mel spun around, pushing her red until it was uncomfortable. The dark room became as clear as daylight to her. She strained her ears. Was she alone? Had someone snuck in and then left? Or were they-

The sound of someone’s breathing reached her ears. It was slow and methodical. She’d been taught about this in Kenhoro. A type of breathing designed to produce as little sound as possible. An assassin's breathing technique.

But Mel heard it.

Without a doubt, there was someone straddled to the ceiling above her.

Mel flared her red aura - a painful experience given the training she’d gone through earlier. She threw the lantern above her head and ran using aura-empowered legs towards the door.

She made it two steps before something pierced her left shoulder. Another two steps before something else pierced her lower back. A final two steps before something cut her leg, causing her to trip and spin around. Mel screamed, grabbing something nearby and throwing it at the dark figure as she crumpled to the floor.

Her opponent’s figure was wavy. Some kind of cloaking spell from the Kanaxai branch. He was a warrior. His orange aura gave that away. He ducked the thrown object - a book - and leapt towards Mel with a dagger.

Mel put everything into her aura, feeling herself burn from the inside as she manifested orange for the first time. It was a shaky, weak orange that wasn’t enough to completely stop the assassin's dagger from piercing her stomach. Mel reflexively grabbed the man’s hand, pulling her legs back and kicking him as hard as she could. He stumbled back.

Everything suddenly seemed so wet with blood. Her blood. Even as she scrambled back, her feet slipped, failing to find traction against the bloody wooden floor.

She couldn’t win against this person. Her orange aura was barely up to scratch, and her body felt like it would explode. Mel was already at peak aether exhaustion, and she wouldn’t be able to maintain her aura against another attack.

If only she could get to the door and out into the hall. If this assassin was here for Amelia it was unlikely he would chase Mel down. All she needed to do was make herself an unattractive target so he would flee back through the window.

The hazy assassin launched himself at Mel again, and Mel saw her death coming. There was no way she could make it. Should she scream? Wait, she was already screaming. She hadn’t stopped since she started.

Ah, it was getting hard to think. Was she afflicted with poison?

A loud snapping sound filled the air, and the assassin's arm froze, his dagger inches away from Mel. Someone's hand had appeared, grabbing the assassin by the wrist.

A floating hand.

A pungent smell of burnt toast reached Mel’s nose.

The assassin was yanked, and with a grunt, he was pulled into…

Nothingness.

He was there, and now he was gone. Mel was suddenly alone. She forced herself to stop screaming. What in the seven hells just happened? Was she saved?

She needed to dress her wounds and keep her aura up. If she could keep her aura going, she could delay blood loss and poison spread. She could…

Ah, her vision was going dark.

Another snapping sound reached Mel’s ears, and out of nowhere, a figure bent towards her. It was not the assassin, rather a feminine figure with a grimace. She had small horns and yellow eyes. Someone from Centralis?

Wearing a maid uniform.

“What the…” Mel mumbled as she felt herself go weak. Whatever poison was inside her, it was acting fast.

She felt the figure pick her up. During her last moments of consciousness, she heard the woman who appeared from nowhere, dressed as a maid, mutter something that made no sense.

“The Divine One is definitely going to be giving me a raise after this…”

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