Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Sixty-Two: Mel’s Deductions

Under pressure from Seonmi, the archivist Takumi sought permission from his superior, Noel Yamaguchi, Head of the Department of History and Military Studies. The Department Head's narrow, investigative eyes worried Noburu, but Seonmi’s act as the work-driven Yunseo Yoo-Jung won through, and they got permission for her to explore the storage room for replacement rivets.

If anything, he seemed annoyed they’d bothered him with the request.

The Department Head reiterated they must remain under guard, and since they could only spare a singular pair of horns to guard them, Noburu and Seonmi had to move together. While Noburu clenched his jaw in annoyance and Seonmi clicked her tongue, it was actually the ideal outcome. This way, they could both explore the storage under the guise of Seonmi searching for replacement metal.

The storage facility was a large basement filled with old boxes and crates. Takumi explained that while many of the items had been stored here for decades, the room itself was regularly cleaned of dust, and its exterior was maintained to prevent moisture from creeping in.

“Long before my time, all these were kept upstairs,” Takumi explained, gesturing towards the boxed artefacts. “Eventually, someone realised the temperature fluctuations through the seasons and changing humidity were contributing to their degradation. They were moved down here… a little over a century ago. I just finished cataloguing everything myself.”

“Moons… you organised all this yourself?” Seonmi intoned, her voice laced with professional appreciation and a touch of femininity as she moved to sweeten the archivist’s mind.

“Took a long time!” Takumi replied cheerfully. “You wouldn’t believe how many boxes were mislabelled or objects from multiple eras piled under the same label. Here, each row is roughly two centuries…” He gestured to the left, where a small pile of boxes lay. “Starting with pre-Cascadian times. The Samino Museum took anything of interest, but a few scraps remain. We have miscellaneous stone tools in here that date back to five thousand B.V! Most demons don’t care too much for their heritage that far back, only showing interest in something big like the Needles of Nai or great desert geoglyphs like the Dectus Lines. But I think there’s a story to be told in these little bits of knapped rocks.”

Noburu raised his eyebrows in interest, walking over to the area of boxes. Takumi unclasped one box, opening it to reveal what was neatly labelled as a stone axehead.

Who cares? Noburu thought before mentally slapping himself to get back into character.

“Fascinating examples of Stone Age technology,” Noburu murmured, leaning closer to examine the knapped items. “To think there was a time, long before the Long Discordancy, long before the wilderness, where we were cutting down natural trees, not even knowing how to smelt copper.”

“How were they dated?” Seonmi asked. “Stratigraphic principles?”

“That’s right,” Takumi affirmed, checking the labels. “San-Tir archaeological site. Discovered seven-sixty-five A.V. If I remember my modern history… that’ll be one of the central sites discovered during the last major wilderness clearing in the direction of Nachon.”

“What about the first row, here?” Seonmi pointed towards the left-most row of boxes, which, while more populous than their Stone Age neighbours, were lacking compared to the other rows further down.

“Dark Ages,” Takumi answered. He approached and patted the first box. “Mostly fragments of iron and steel tools. Some broken ceramics. Again, the Samino Museum bought most of it a long time ago. I’ve organised it chronologically. The boxes in this little section are two-fifty to two-hundred B.V. Then, you see the red marker on the box there?” Takumi pointed out a small red flag a few meters down. “That marks the Continent Collision with the Dark Lands in one-eighty-two B.V. Then, further down, we cover the century-long period of the Long Discordancy. We have a few fragmented skeletons of the Enemy, but nothing worth displaying. Past that…” He gestured to the very end of the row, which was dimly lit with a weak aetherlight. “We have armour and blades from her Holy Reconquista. We have fifty-six of her Thousand Blades. Twenty are in storage down here, fifteen are stored elsewhere in the academy, and the remainder you can see displayed in the main throughway.”

The archivist walked to the next row, followed by Noburu and Seonmi. The guard standing outside the entrance didn’t move, but then again, why would he? The man was likely an aura user and could hear everything they were up to anyway.

“Here we have the next two centuries. One A.V to two hundred A.V. We have some great examples of early Imperial weaponry during the Consolidation Era. In the second century, we have a moderate amount of artefacts from the War of the Spear.  This is where we start to see traditional Samino armour utilising ironwood bark. We have some fully preserved polearms on display from this period upstairs.” 

“Polearms? Including the shaft?” Seonmi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s right,” Takumi answered.

“How? The wood should have long decomposed. Unless…?” Seonmi trailed off, tilting her head at the archivist. “A bog?”

“Correct!” Takumi enthusiastically answered. “Presevered in the oxygen-less environment of a peat bog. They found bodies as well! They are so well preserved that they look like they could wake up at any moment despite being seven hundred years old! We don’t have them here, unfortunately.”

“The Bog Soldiers,” Noburu intoned. “I’ve never had the opportunity to see them myself. Where are they? Let me guess…”

“Samino Museum,” Takumi finished with an exasperated sigh. “They have the privilege to forcefully purchase any artefacts in Samino territory before they go to auction. They send someone every few years to poke their horns in what we have. Many of the items we have on display are on loan from the museum.” The man frowned in annoyance before correcting himself. “Right, where were we?” 

Takumi continued to the next row. “Two hundred A.V to four hundred A.V. We have armour and weapons from the Early Religious Wars, The Three Sister’s War, and finally the Late Religious Wars that ended just before the turn of the fifth century.”

Takumi continued to the second last row. This one was filled to the brim with crates and boxes. This aligned with the preparation work Noburu had done; he understood the fifth and sixth centuries were when restoration efforts and archaeological evacuation began to become popular.

“Five hundred A.V to six hundred A.V. I imagine this is where you’ll find your replacement rivets,” Takimu explained while nodding his head. “About halfway down, we have all the War of the Ten Houses examples. Shall we?” They followed Takumi down the row, and suddenly, Noburu felt like he were in a forest of boxes. “Try to avoid rotating any boxes and open them in situ if possible. If you look at each box's label, I’ve noted the quality of what’s inside. Anything with three x’s should be a candidate for replacements.”

“You judged they were beyond restoration?” Seonmi asked with a sly smile. “You’ve been holding out on us, Takumi.”

“Ha.” The archivist rubbed the back of his neck. “Just guessing mainly, but it doesn’t take a genius to see if something is beyond recovering. I’ve always thought artefacts are like people. Once they degrade or corrode beyond a certain threshold, there’s no hope of recovery, is there?”

“There’s always hope,” Noburu snapped. He tried to hide his annoyance, but Takumi’s words angered him. The attitude of the nobles regarding the slums and their inhabitants was the same. It was so easy to look down on those underneath you, pretending they were alien, that their circumstances would never befall you.

“Moons,” Seonmi cooly intoned. “You missed your morning coffee or something?” She rolled her eyes, gesturing dramatically to a nearby box. “Takumi, mind helping?”

“Ah, right, of course…”

A glare from Seonmi set Noburu’s mind straight. Right, right. He wasn’t Noburu here.

They began opening boxes, examining the often delicate pieces within. Seonmi kept Takumi smitten and the atmosphere jovial. Noburu joined in on the conversation, keeping the man talking. Most people liked talking about themselves, and Takumi was no exception. He also clearly found Seonmi attractive, something the crafty woman had picked up on and was abusing subtly. She began moving in a way that emphasised her form and started giggling and smiling at his terrible jokes. Given how intentionally snappy she’d been earlier, Takumi must have thought his charm had won her over.

Poor man.

Key. Question. Seonmi indicated with her hands when Takumi wasn’t looking.

Injury. Act. You. Question. He flashed his reply quickly.

Yes. Ready. Question.

Yes.

The archivist kept his keys on a keyring attached to his belt. One of those keys was a large iron key used to enter the storage room. One way or another, they needed access to that key.

“This one up here, please, Takumi,” Seonmi indicated to the box on a shelf at her shoulder height. Before Takumi could respond, she began shifting it over the edge. The archivist quickly moved to assist her. Noburu positioned himself behind the man.

“S-slowly!” Takumi exclaimed.

“It’s fine…” Seonmi grunted. “Just need to- moons!” Seonmi’s ankle rolled, and her form collapsed, releasing the box which crashed to the ground. She swore loudly, her face contorting in pain.

“Yunseo!” Noburu cried out, barging into Takumi, unhooking his key ring while simultaneously tripping the man. “I got it!” Noburu grabbed the crate. “Go help her!”

Takumi stumbled up, assisting Seonmi who was clutching her ankle while letting out a colourful string of curses. The man helped her stand before bending down and examining the ankle.

“Doesn’t look broken,” he said. “It might swell up something terrible. If you wait here, I’ll get some ice.”

“You have ice? Here?” Noburu asked, gently lowering the end of the crate onto the ground.

“Advantages of having a cohort of trainee mages,” Takumi explained. “Making ice is good practice for many of them, so we have an endless supply. I’ll ask the guard to grab some and see if he can find an assistant instructor from the medical department. Even a student would appreciate the practice. Oh, wait!” The archivist stood up quickly, freezing on the spot before shaking his head. “No, it’s not broken, is it? The Grandmaster wouldn’t want me bothering her for something like this.”

“Takumi,” Noburu stated.

“Hmm?”

“Your keys.” Noburu pointed, bringing Takumi’s attention towards his key ring, now lying innocently on the floor. “Sorry for tripping you; I panicked.” Noburu apologised with a slight bow.

Takumi picked up his keys, verified they were all still there and re-attached the key ring to the belt. “Don’t worry yourself, worry about poor Miss Yoo-Jung.”

“Call me Yunseo,” Seonmi replied, tentatively placing down her foot and wincing at the imagined pain.

“Yunseo, of course.” Takumi beamed. “I’ll be right back.” He left, walking down the row while calling for the guard.

“You alright?” Noburu asked, raising an eyebrow. Seonmi’s acting was so good he would have believed she’d actually rolled her ankle if he hadn’t witnessed her practising this injury multiple times in Yoshiro’s den.

“Got a little enthusiastic, I suppose. Should be fine with some ice…” She tailed off, looking past Noburu at the back of Takumi. Key. Success. Question, her hands signalled.

Success, Noburu signalled back, patting the hidden pocket of his uniform where a slim box filled with clay carried an impression of Takumi’s storage room key. Seeing this, Seonmi visibly relaxed.

It was one task down. Now, they just needed to find the artefact they were contracted to steal, and then Noburu could sneak back in this very night, and they’d be done!

Surely Takumi wouldn’t mind if they asked to see a few more examples?

Mel was ecstatic. Even now, as she convected her aether, readying it to break into orange for the tenth time, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Orange! She’d reached orange! Even if her plan of becoming a squad commander fell through, she would have no trouble finding employment for the rest of her life as an elite guard for some wealthy merchant or noble. With this, she’d practically caught up with her brother, who-

Someone knocked on the door.

Mel blinked her attention back into her room. She climbed out of her meditation position and rotated the crystal in the wall, turning the dim aetherlights up. She slipped on her shoes, opening the door to find a familiar sight.

“Hello!” Amelia chirped at her. “It’s so dark tonight, and the moon’s so big! I wanted to walk around the academy grounds to look at it, but it’s awkward to walk around with so many patrolling guards. So…” Amelia trailed off, shuffling her feet. “Could you come with me? I want to hear about your new aura!”

“...Sure,” Mel answered. “Let me get ready.”

Soon, they were outside the magic tower, walking along one of the academy's stone paths that snaked through the managed gardens and woods. Amelia wasn’t saying much, seemingly focused intently on something else.

“Your mind seems occupied with other thoughts,” Mel pointed out.

“Mmm!” came the reply. “I’m training my eyes to look into a mysterious, secretive realm!”

Mel rolled her eyes. Sure. It figured Amelia would have difficulty explaining the real reason she asked her to accompany her for this walk. Mel knew Amelia felt some kind of guilt associated with the other night's events. Last night, Amelia hadn’t slipped off like she normally did, instead choosing to stay in her quarters. Mel suspected it was because she didn’t want to risk being absent for another attack. 

Did she bring Mel with her tonight because she just wanted to go on a walk and didn’t want to leave Mel alone?

Probably.

“Ah, got it!” Amelia suddenly exclaimed before stopping between two rows of flowers and looking around. “Whoa… that’s freaky.”

“Freaky?”

“Weird plant life everywhere. Why out here and not in the academy?” Amelia raised a hand and moved it in the air like she was dancing with a candle flame. “Weird…” she murmured again.

“Well, we are in the gardens,” Mel gestured to the surrounding flowers. “Not a suspicious place to find plant life, is it?” She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at Amelia. It was a manner of speaking she would never dare with any other nobility, but Mel had become quite close to Lord-Prospect Thornheart in a surprisingly short amount of time.

“No, I mean…” Amelia wrinkled her nose, looking around. “Never mind, let’s keep-” Amelia froze, her mouth hanging open as she looked up in shock at the great blue moon above. Mel took in the shimmering light that painted the East in a gentle blue hue. Even with Mel’s eyes, enhanced with only red aura, she could see the telltale marks of the volcanic activity upon the moon's surface.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Mel asked. “We’re lucky to have the moons.”

“So they’re not moons…” Amelia mumbled.

“Sorry?” Mel frowned.

“Ah!” Amelia twisted around, a smile on her face, waving her hands. “I mean, you’re right! The moon crystals fuel the modern era! It makes things like the lift engine possible! Without them, how could the Empire stay together?”

“Well, much of it is connected by rail now. I’m sure we’d survive without them.” Mel pointed at the ring of material around the moon. “Look, you can see all the tephra about to break free of its gravity.” Soon, tens of thousands of tonnes of crystal would carve through the atmosphere, breaking up before slowing down and blessing the East. Blue crystal was the most sought-after for lift engines, as it produced the strongest aetheric-lumina reaction, meaning ships using it could fly higher than an opponent using any other crystal fuel.

“Yeah. I see it…” Amelia resumed looking at the moon and stayed silent for a full minute before shaking her head and skipping past Mel. “Come on!” She called. They continued their walk, passing through the wooded area on the academy's north side. They passed more than one patrol on their way, and Amelia had to identify herself before they let them go.

“For an academy so surrounded by the city, they’ve done a tremendous job of disguising it!” Amelia pointed out. “The walls are only twenty meters or so, but all the paths and trees are designed to hide your line of sight, so you feel like you’re in the countryside!”

“...Countryside?”

“Yeah, you know…” Amelia began to explain the unfamiliar term. It was more or less a human word for the rural lowlands. After hearing the explanation, it made sense to Mel; humankind never had to build their population centres in the mountains; they had all their cities on their lowlands. Only to them, it wasn’t the lowlands, it was just normal land.

“Humans are weird,” Mel muttered before quickly apologising.

“Mmm!” Amelia threw an enthusiastic thumbs up her way. “Sure we are! But, demons are weirder!”

“Maybe, but my father used to say…” Mel raised an open hand before clenching it into a fist and pulling it over her chest. “...Demons have direction. We have duty. Like humans, we commune with our gods but are also ruled by one. You can look at the history of the human continent and see that empires rise and fall throughout the centuries, but not Cascadia.” She reached into the sky, the backdrop of the blue moon enveloping her hand. “We are eternal,” she finished triumphantly.

All was quiet momentarily before a giggle broke the silence, followed by Amelia’s clapping.

“How dramatic! I didn’t know you were such a nationalist!”

“Nationalist?” Mel frowned.

“Wrong word? I mean… umm?” Amelia offered with a shrug.

“Imperialist.”

“Imperialist!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Mel asked.

“Nothing!” Amelia replied cheerfully. “Just nice to see someone passionate about something. Sometimes, your determination reminds me of Serena!”

“Serena…” Mel echoed, feeling her pride blossom. Instructor Halen, Captain Halen, or even Lord Halen, was semi-famous around the academy. A war hero who had cracked the Republican defences by liberating the key logistic hub of Port Highwind. A captain of the mysterious black ship, the Vengeance. A Speaker of Narean, her distinctive pair of horns - the pinnacle of Samino nobility - were said to become wreathed in hellfire when she Spoke, earning her the moniker of the Hellfire Captain. They say there wasn’t a Republican soldier who didn’t fear seeing her ship on the horizon.

To think Amelia, who was technically a noble, just compared Mel to her!

Amelia was close to Instructor Halen, and Mel recently found out Amelia wasn’t sneaking off at night to be with a man but instead, she was being trained by the instructor in person! How lucky was she to have such a casual relationship with a war hero? To learn from one of the best! They had a relationship that bypassed the usual concerns of demon-human relationships. Mel hadn’t missed the playful banter they sometimes intended towards each other during the joint training session.

They were… awfully close, weren’t they?

Mel’s mind mentally kicked itself away from the line of thought she was about to go down. Tsk! How improper of Mel to even begin to entertain such an idea? After all, Instructor Halen had been so kind as to volunteer her time to train her, and Amelia had equally been so kind as to forgive and heal Mel after she stupidly enraged her at the Kenhoro Officer Academy.

Although…

Mel reluctantly forced her mind back onto the track she didn’t want to be on. What exactly did she say to Amelia to annoy her so much back then? What was it that she said that caused Instructor Halen - then a visiting guest - to become so angry and glare at her so much?

Mel had insulted Amelia, accusing her of being Instructor Halen’s paramour - a human to keep the demon’s bed warm. A sexual plaything.

…They were awfully close, weren’t they?

Also, Amelia said she stayed the night after training. She claimed it was to save the walk back and forth. On the face of it, it made sense, but then why would Amelia be so flustered at that time when Mel asked her where she was going?

No! Surely not!

But… maybe?

No!

Yet, it made sense, didn’t it?

Oh no!

Mel brought her hands to her cheeks, hiding the sudden blush that formed. Surely not! It was indecent! It was a sin! Wasn’t Instructor Halen a Christian!? Mel had seen the golden Petrine cross on a necklace. And Amelia… was Amelia religious? She must be, but did she follow a demon faith, or a human one?

It all added up… but… oh moons! How she wished it didn’t!

“Oh, we’re back!” Amelia’s happily announced.

They were standing in front of the enormous front doors of the academy. They stood fully open, with no less than four guards standing around. They stepped aside, letting the pair of women through.

“Let’s take a walk through the main throughway before we go back to the tower,” Amelia continued. “I’d like to see some of the artefacts again!”

Mel followed Amelia obediently while her mind raced. She wished it didn’t add together, but the more she thought about it, the more it did! The times she’d witnessed Amelia and Instructor Halen together, wasn’t there a certain softness underpinning their conversations? Didn’t Instructor Halen’s lips curl upwards when Amelia approached her during training? Didn’t they stand and sit a little closer together than one might assume was proper?

Mel stopped to see Amelia, who had also stopped just ahead of her at the junction where you could turn left or right. Her back towards Mel. She was oddly still. Had she deduced Mel’s thoughts?

Mel swallowed loudly.

“Amelia…” she tentatively began.

“Wait,” Amelia commanded. All friendliness from her voice was gone. She wasn’t speaking as a friend or an acquaintance but as a noble. This was a command.

Mel froze, her instincts tickling her. Danger. Surely, not from Amelia?

Amelia raised a hand slowly, pointing at a space between the wall and a display case.

“In that space… a man is hiding.”

What!?

Mel pushed her aura to the pinnacle of red, ready to flare it into orange at a moment's notice. Her hand reached down to grab her sword, only to find it wasn’t there. Why hadn’t she brought it with her!? Where was the man? Was it another ochimusha? Amelia had pointed to a space, but there was nothing there! Was he hiding inside the wall? Was he-

Then, a loud snap echoed through the throughway.

“No!” yelled the man, who suddenly appeared out of thin air. He wasn’t facing Amelia or Mel, but he faced down the right-hand side of the junction with his hands up as if he were defending himself from an attack.

In his hands, he carried some kind of bundle.

The man scrambled, turning to run down the corridor, away from Amelia and whoever he was facing.

Only to crash into a shimmering set of external wards that expertly formed a box to trap the man. As he collided with Amelia’s wards, the bundle in his hand dropped, unwrapping to reveal a set of daggers.

“A-an assassin!” Amelia cried out, pointing at the panicked man.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“No! Please! There’s-” The man gestured wildly down the other end of the corridor in the direction he was initially facing. “Where did she go? Be careful! She could appear at any-”

“Hrmph!” Amelia cracked her knuckles. “Nice ploy, assassin! What are those daggers for? Cutting my steak!? Admit it, you’re here to finish the job, aren’t you!? They must have been desperate to send someone capable of entering the Shimmer! Don’t even think about Speaking!”

“No! You got it wrong! There’s a maid-”

“Silence!” Amelia commanded. The human twisted her neck to give Mel a prideful look. “See!?” She continued, her face beaming with smugness.

“W-what?” Mel replied, hurrying to the wall and grabbing one of the display swords. She might get in trouble for using it, but it was better to have a weapon than not!

“I caught one!” Amelia flashed a thumbs up.

“I caught an assassin!”