Work Text:
Many years ago...
She held her breath as the guard walked by, steel-plated soles thudding against the wood paneling on the floor. Cautiously, she adjusted the weight in her arms, keeping one hand gently over the bundle’s mouth. Enough to keep it quiet, but not enough to startle it and make it cry. She counted the steps as they echoed past her… nine, ten, eleven, then turn…
Once the coast was clear, Mὸrag made a beeline for the door. In just a few seconds, the wooden walls were behind her, her feet crushed soft blades of grass and her lungs filled with fresh, crisp air. She kept running. She knew a single pause in her stride would be enough for one of the guards to catch her view. This was a practiced escape route. She had gotten herself caught on purpose plenty of times to know exactly how to out maneuver every guard stationed at that hour.
A few more seconds later, her feet flew over a series of roots and a carefree giggle escaped from the bundle in her arms. Carefully, she navigated the rather steep downward slope of a hill and paused at the base of a giant tree that was well out of view for the exterior guards.
“We made it.” Mὸrag smiled as she took in the view of the lush leaves above.
The weight in her arms squirmed at the sound of her voice. Mὸrag laughed as she watched a small, chubby hand pop out from the beneath the blanket she was holding and grasp blindly at the air.
“Alright, alright, I can let you out now.”
The young girl knelt on the ground and carefully placed the bundle on the grass. Almost immediately, the blanket was push off by the force of kicking hands and feet. A head of brilliant blue hair came into view and a smile pushed gleefully against soft cheeks.
“What do you think, Niall? Pretty, huh?”
Her answer was a wave of happy squeals and clumsy claps as the boy bounced up and down against the grass.
Mὸrag smiled at his blissful glee. “Well, it gets even better. Let me show you why I brought you out here.”
With her heart filled with excitement, Mὸrag raced around the tree and knelt before a pile of dead leaves. Quickly she brushed them aside, throwing some in Niall’s direction, much to the child’s delight. Two long sticks eventually came into view and she picked them up with near reverence. They were both quite sturdy and they fit perfectly in her relatively small grasp. A thick vine was tied at the end of each stick and leaves jutted out along their length.
With a smirk on her face, she jogged back around the tree and jumped in front of the small boy. Her arms were spread wide, each vine-tied stick held in what would have been a menacing pose had it not been for the pure delight on her face.
“I’m the most powerful Driver in Alrest!”
Niall clumsily clapped his hands as Mὸrag carefully twirled one of the vines above her head. She danced slowly through a series of calculated moves, attacking the air as if the sticks she was holding were actual weapons. With a final spin, she whipped the vines in a circle and pointed one directly at the child on the ground.
“I am Mὸrag Ladair! Don’t you forget it!”
“Mo-mo!”
The girl sighed as her brother giggled happily.
“No, Niall, we’ve been through this. Mὸ-rag. Not Mo-mo. Mὸ-rag.”
Large eyes blinked up at her. “Mo-mo!”
“Fine, I’ll show you! Would someone named Mo-mo be capable of this!?”
Mὸrag thrust her hands forward, intending to send the vines over her brother’s head. Unbeknownst to her, the last twirl she had performed left one of the play whips wrapped around her leg. The sudden jerk forward pulled her leg out from under her and sent her toppling into a pile of leaves. Her face flushed with embarrassment as her ears filled with the uncontrollable laughter of the young boy on the ground.
She spat out a few leaves that had become lodged between her lips and dropped down rather gracelessly next to the giggling child. “That’s alright, Niall, go ahead and laugh. Just you wait, though… one of these days, I’ll be so strong that no one will ever think of mocking me.”
The serious tone of her voice brought the boy’s laughter to a halt.
“Do you know what these sticks are supposed to be?” He blinked at her. “They’re whips… well, pretend whips. I’m not good enough yet to use the real thing. Do you know who uses weapons like these?”
“Mo-mo!”
“No, not me…” Mὸrag lifted her gaze to the horizon. “Before you were born, my papa would tell me a story about a powerful Blade. Every Driver she’s ever had… they’ve been selfish. They’ve only ever used her to do whatever they want. Papa used to say that she got tired of it and went into a long sleep. Now, she’s waiting for a Driver to come along who will treat her better.”
Her small fists gripped the sticks tightly. “That’s going to be me one day. I’m going to wake up Lady Brighid. Then, when you’re older and you’ve finally become Emperor, I’m going to take her on a grand adventure. Just Lady Brighid and me, traveling Alrest… doing whatever she wants to do for the rest of my days.”
She turned to her brother with a wide, soft smile on her face. “I’m going to set her free, Niall… and you’re going to help me.”
He reached out for her and she dropped the whips to pull him into her lap. “We’ll come back to visit you, I promise.”
“Mὸrag!”
“Mὸrag!”
The Inquisitor startled suddenly and gripped the railing in front of her as she stumbled. Reality pushed through the cobwebs in her mind and she found herself looking out over the sleeping capitol of the Indoline Praetorium. What the…
“Woah! Sorry about that! You alright, Mὸrag?”
She turned with mild hesitation, forcing her pounding heart to slow its beat. Rex’s concerned face greeted her. How long had he been there?
“Yes, I’m quite fine, Rex.” She coughed into her fist. “I was just lost in thought, I suppose. The Praetorium is quite a wonder to behold at night.”
The young salvager walked up to the railing beside her and let out a long exhale. “Yeah, it sure is. Never dreamed I’d be here… meetin’ with the Praetor and all.”
“Is that why you can’t sleep?”
“I guess so. A lot’s changed since I met Pyra. Sometimes it’s still hard to adjust, ya know?”
Mὸrag nodded. “Indeed. As a salvager, I imagine you had quite the solitary life before becoming the Aegis’s Driver. There is great responsibility that comes with resonating with such a powerful Blade.”
“I didn’t even mean to… one day, I was just your average salvager, lookin’ to make a quick spot of gold. The next, I’ve got a sword run through me.” Rex lifted a hand and traced the outline of the core crystal on his chest. “I don’t regret it. Meeting Pyra and Mythra… it’s not something I’d take back, but I do wonder why it was me sometimes.”
The Inquisitor narrowed her eyes as she took in the boy’s curious expression. This was getting personal. She could easily walk away and leave him to his thoughts, but something compelled her to stay. Never one to doubt her instincts, Mὸrag cleared her throat.
“You believe yourself unworthy of them?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Rex scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I wasn’t really a fighter before all this. Sure, I knew enough to get by, to protect my loot from the occasional thief, but that’s all. Not too many people bothered attackin’ a lone Titan in the middle of nowhere and besides, whenever we got into any real trouble, Gramps who just take off into the sky and drop the arseholes into the Cloud Sea.”
Mὸrag smiled at the mental image. “And now you’ve agreed to seek Elysium.”
“I didn’t really think much of it until we ran into you.”
“Oh?”
Rex sighed as he turned and leaned his back against the outlook’s railing. “The first person I fought with Pyra was Malos… and well, she did a lot of the fighting on her own. I couldn’t keep up with him, but that just made me want to work harder. I couldn’t let someone like him take her…”
“You thought the same of me, did you not?”
“Yeah… I did.” The salvager frowned. “You sent your Blade off to fight us without you. I figured that was proof you weren’t all that different from Malos and Jin. Brighid was just your weapon.”
Mὸrag felt an ugly knot form in her chest.
“But when we fought, it was different. That Dughall guy, he just sat back and let his Blade do all the work. He didn’t care about him at all, but you... I saw the way you carried yourself. You always stepped in front of her. Every attack we threw at you, you made sure Brighid was protected.”
“Is that why you held back?”
Rex shrugged. “Didn’t feel right to hurt someone like you.”
“One of the ‘good guys’, aye?”
“Was I wrong?”
Mὸrag shook her head as she bit back a smile. “No, I suppose not.”
“Anyway, that fight’s what really got me thinkin’… if someone like you resonated with Pyra, maybe gettin’ to Elysium would be easier for her. Then we met Vandham and Zeke… kinda just made the thought really sink in, ya know?”
“Life is not nearly so simple, Rex.” The Inquisitor sighed as she gripped the railing tightly. “The power of a Blade is closely linked to their Driver. That has quite a lot to do with their prowess as a fighter, yes, but it is far more than that. Power depends on the heart of its wielder… and the freedom their station affords.”
“Is that what you meant earlier?”
They locked eyes briefly before Mὸrag returned her gaze to the twinkling lights of Indol.
“When Pyra asked why you weren’t tryin’ to stop us… you said I wouldn’t be like Addam if I was under imperial control. I didn’t understand what you meant then, but I think I get it now.”
“Do you?” Mὸrag could feel his lingering stare, but refused to turn.
“You weren’t really talking about me… you were talkin’ about yourself.”
Mὸrag took a step back. That was a surprise – this boy was more astute than she gave him credit for.
“You were never planning to capture me, though, were you? When we first met, you wanted to kill Pyra so no one could use her as a weapon. That’s what you said, right?”
The Inquisitor cleared her throat as she attempted to swallow her growing trepidation. “Indeed.”
“You never planned for her to be under imperial control… you must not have wanted that for Brighid, either…”
“Rex?”
“You’re not stopping us because you want us to reach Elysium. You actually think I can do it.”
Mὸrag sighed. “I think you might be the only one who can.”
“Because I don’t answer to any country? Like you do?”
The Inquisitor bowed her head and glared intently at the stone beneath her feet. This was not the kind of conversation she anticipated having tonight. No, she had come out for a stroll to clear her head. Now, this boy was making her face truths she would rather keep to herself… and yet… she could feel some unshakable kindred draw to him. It made her almost want to speak.
----
Pyra sighed as she took in woman’s unusually subdued form from a distance. Rex had clearly struck a nerve. “Mὸrag…”
Soft clicking against the pavement drew the Aegis’s attention away. She turned to gaze over her shoulder and spotted familiar azure flames coming closer.
“You’re up rather late tonight, Pyra.”
The Aegis pressed an index finger against her lips and quietly shushed the approaching Blade. Wordlessly, she pointed beyond the stone pillar she was leaning against.
Brighid peered around her and smiled. She had been mildly alarmed when she returned to an empty room after her evening walk. It was nice to see her Driver was simply taking a moment to bond with their company.
“I see.” The flame Blade lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “They seem to be getting along quite nicely now.”
Pyra opened her mouth to respond, but her words were cut short when Brighid’s name reached their prying ears.
---
Mὸrag inhaled deeply and straightened her stance. She peered down at Rex through the partially obscured view of her cap’s metal visor.
“My loyalty is to Mor Ardain, without question. I am the Empire’s Special Inquisitor - the Commanding Officer of the Carraig Special Guard Unit, the finest soldiers of the Ardainian military. I am a member of the Imperial family. I serve at His Majesty’s discretion… I cannot forsake my duty nor my country.”
Rex smiled. “I know all that… but those are the reasons why you don’t think you’d be a good Driver for Pyra, yeah? Because you’re so loyal to the Empire?”
“The Aegis does not serve a single country. Her goal is Elysium – a paradise that could save all of Alrest from its inevitable demise.” Mὸrag relaxed her shoulders an inch as her eyes softened. “Do you really think a Blade with such a global goal could flourish with a Driver such as me? Or even Zeke for that matter? He may have forsaken his homeland, but he is quite loyal to the Praetorium’s demands.”
“Yeah, but wouldn’t you still-”
A haughty scoff escaped her lips. “It is true that the two of us are far stronger than you, but I think it’s quite fair to say neither of us would afford Pyra and Mythra the freedom they desire.”
“You wouldn’t want to take her to Elysium yourself?”
“It’s not a question of what I would want to do, Rex.” Mὸrag turned back to the outlook’s railing, gripped it tightly as she lifted her gaze to the star-filled sky. “Are you so naïve that you believe a nation such as mine, one that has been teetering on the precipice of war for years, would allow a Blade as powerful as the Aegis to roam freely?”
“No.” The salvager stepped up beside her. “They’d send you to the front line – make her fight their war. It’s just like Vandham said…”
Mὸrag’s eyes pinched in curiosity at the repeated name of the boy’s fallen Urayan companion.
“That’s why you didn’t want to capture us… it’s why you wanted to kill her. So not even Mor Ardain could use her.”
The Inquisitor sighed. “I’ve seen what that can do to a Blade… one who has so much potential…”
“You mean Brighid?”
---
Small hands traced over a soft watercolor portrait on worn paper. The image was a mixture of purple and blue hues, melding together into the oddly comforting form of a woman.
“M ὸrag, do you know who that is?”
“Lady Brighid.”
A strong baritone laughed gently in the child’s ear. “That’s right, my sweet girl. Lady Brighid – the Jewel of the Empire. She’s a Blade we haven’t seen in quite some time.”
“How come, Papa?”
Amber eyes crinkled with affection. “Well, dear, I believe she’s simply waiting for the right person. Someone who will see her as more than just a prized weapon. What do you think about that?”
---
“Mὸrag?”
The Inquisitor shook her head to banish the memory. This was not the time nor the place. She stared down at the boy for a moment, taking in his openly curious expression. He fidgeted under her gaze and that oddly made her feel better – knowing he was clearly as comfortable as she was becoming. For some reason, this mere child was forcing her toward the edge of vulnerability and she was allowing it. But not now, what he was asking was too much.
“You shouldn’t spend so much time comparing yourself to others. It would serve you and the Aegis best if you focused on developing your own personal strength.”
The boy took a step back, startled by the figurative door the woman had effectively slammed on their conversation.
“Wha?”
“You are the Aegis’s Driver.” Her gloved hands tightened their hold on the stone railing. “It may not have been a path entirely of your choosing, but that is of no consequence now. As her Driver, you serve her as much as she serves you. The fact that you are willing and able to let her embrace her free will means more than your current skill. One can be improved, the other… well, that isn’t always in our right to decide.”
The salvager frowned as he chewed thoughtfully on her words. The Driver standing in front of him had made him question his worth not long ago and yet, here she was telling him that he was the Driver Pyra needed. He had been too hasty in judging her. In retrospect, the fact that he ever thought this woman viewed her Blade as a mere weapon was almost laughable. What a difference it made to actually listen to what she had to say… because it almost sounded as if she…
He placed a hand over Mὸrag’s arm and gripped it gently. “We’re really not that different… are we?”
“I suppose not.”
“You could have been like Addam, too… if you weren’t…”
“In another life, perhaps.” Mὸrag placed a gloved hand over his. “So long as you fight for her and her desires are true, I will support you. Blades like the Aegis… they deserve Drivers like you.”
Mὸrag cringed and turned away as the words left her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say… the knowing smile that stretched across the boy’s lips was enough to make her regret this conversation. What was it about this child?
Rex bit back a laugh as he watched the stoic woman mentally chastise herself. All this talk of him allowing his Blade to be free, letting her fight her own war… serving her in the way Addam had… it was clear to him that these were desires they both shared. But Mὸrag wasn’t nearly as free as him. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had started to doubt himself when they met.
He patted her arm before withdrawing his hand and stepping back. She had spent the night reassuring him – the least he could do was return the favor, even if she never asked for it.
“Nah, I think Brighid’s pretty lucky.” He quickly pressed on as her eyes widened and she attempted to cut him off. “Even with you being duty-bound and all, she looks happy. Sounds to me like you’re giving her the best life you can… just like I’m tryin’ to do. Besides, there’s a reason she resonated with you. I think that says a lot.”
“Rex…”
“Anyway, I should probably get at least a little shut-eye before meetin’ the Praetor. Wouldn’t want to sleep through my big day!” The boy’s eyes glimmered with blissful delight as he let out an exaggerated yawn. “You comin’, Mὸrag?”
She shook her head with a small grin on her face. “No, you go on ahead.”
Rex turned to leave, but paused after just a few steps. “Hey, Mὸrag?”
The Inquisitor turned to face him with a raised brow.
“It was nice gettin’ to know you a little better.”
Mὸrag smiled as the boy made a swift retreat before she could reply.
---
Brighid had a hand clasped tightly over her core crystal, her hidden gaze locked on the lone, distant form of her Driver.
“You didn’t know… did you?”
The Blade could feel Pyra’s gentle hand at the base of her exposed back, but she hardly acknowledged it.
“She never told you she felt like this.”
It was a strange sensation, to feel briefly burning heat radiating over her skin as one hand merged into the shape of another. Brighid knew without turning around that it was no longer Pyra who was behind her.
“I know you don’t remember what it was like back then… but you were right to resonate with her.”
That got Brighid’s attention. She turned her gaze from Mὸrag and stared intently at Myrtha, her brow furrowed in a silent question.
“I never met your old Driver, the Emperor. The world was burning and he left you to stand on your own. But now, when it might happen all over again, she’s standing with you.” The Aegis reached out and grasped one of Brighid’s hands. “I think that says it all.”
Without waiting for a reply, Mythra flipped her hair over her shoulder and made a quick exit after her Driver. Brighid merely watched her go with a sigh before turning her hidden gaze back to the Ardanian.
“There’s no need to hide any longer, Brighid.”
The flame Blade pressed her forehead against the stone pillar and left out a soft laugh. Of course Mὸrag knew she was there. Without letting her embarrassment show, she gracefully made her way toward her Driver, her head held high.
“I apologize, Lady Mὸrag. Your restlessness made it difficult to sleep… and I happened upon Pyra while I was out for an evening stroll.”
The Inquisitor let out an amused huff. “I see, so Rex and I had quite the audience.”
“I wasn’t planning to linger… but I heard my name and I admit, I was curious. How long did you know I was standing there?”
Mὸrag peered over her high collar to watch her Blade approach. “I sensed your presence the moment you arrived.”
Brighid stopped at the woman’s right side and stared at her curiously. “I’m surprised you were so open with the boy, especially if you knew there were prying eyes on you.”
“You believe I would be willing to tell him something I did not feel comfortable telling you?”
The Blade smiled. “No. I suppose I’m more surprised you were open with him at all.”
“He seems to have an odd effect on me.” Mὸrag propped her elbow out toward her companion. “Shall we continue your stroll?”
Brighid recognized the defensive tactic immediately, but she let it slide. If Mὸrag wasn’t ready to say whatever she refused to vocalize in front of Rex, she would patiently wait. With a gentle nod, Brighid slipped her warm hands around the crook of her Driver’s elbow and leaned against her unarmored shoulder. She let Mὸrag lead their aimless path back through the Inner Sanctum.
Despite the twilight hour, there were still a number of warrior monks standing guard. It reminded the Ardainian pair of their walks through Hardhaigh Palace. On the nights when Mὸrag had managed to complete her duties or Brighid had convinced her to set the paperwork aside, they would roam the sleeping halls of the imperial residence. The only souls to witness their frequent strolls were the guards who would bow in deference as they passed. These monks, however, hardly seemed to acknowledge them. It was oddly refreshing. The stoic men merely hummed a haunting tune that echoed against the stone walls of the Praetorium.
As time passed with no words spoken between then, Brighid began to grow antsy. She was used to the relatively quiet nature of her Driver, but this silence felt heavy. As discretely as she could, the Blade turned her hidden gaze to her companion. There were pinched lines at the edges of her eyes, her brow slightly furrowed to match the frown that dragged down her lips. Something was clearly gnawing at her… something that most likely had to do with the young salvager they were following…
With a gently squeeze of her arm, Brighid forced Mὸrag to pause in front of a giant mural painted against alabaster stone.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Hmm?” Mὸrag followed her Blade’s gaze. “It’s quite rare to see a painting so large…”
“It’s a shame the technique appears to be long lost.”
The mural was a bold wash of color against the monotone of the building it was plastered against. Brilliant rays of light radiated down from a towering tree onto a violently forming landscape… presumably a Titan. Shapes that resembled the silhouettes of humans were depicted amongst a clamoring of what looked like Blades – the tell-tale blue glow of core crystal beautifully highlighted. It was a fantastical view of Alrest’s creation, painted by a soul whose legacy continued on without their name.
Brighid sighed as she leaned her head against Mὸrag’s shoulder. “Do you think it really happened like this?”
“The creation of Alrest?”
“Yes… it seems rather chaotic.”
Mὸrag smiled down at her Blade. “I imagine this is just a fantasy… just someone’s belief of what might have been, exaggerated to give pause to those who wander by.”
“Why spend the time to chronicle something that isn’t true?”
“Well, this world was created in some way, though I doubt anything shy of a meeting with the Architect would reveal how.” A whimsical smile lifted Mὸrag’s lips. “Sometimes a fanciful tale can be comforting. Isn’t that why we weave creative tales for children? To help them dream of possibility?”
And there was her opening. Brighid bit back her smirk as she squeezed her Driver’s arm a little tighter.
“Did you have any such dreams?”
Mὸrag turned and squinted at her Blade. She was not nearly as subtle as she believed herself to be. The Ardainian could feel her walls instinctually go up, ready to defend herself against the prying questions that would surely follow. Certainly, she had already endured enough vulnerability in front of Rex… of which Brighid was keenly aware.
With a sigh, Mὸrag returned her gaze to the mural. Her relationship with Brighid was built on trust. It was something they both took great pride in – how open and honest they were with one another. If she couldn’t convince herself to reveal her insecurities to her treasured Blade, then who could she hope to tell? After what had transpired with the Aegis’s Driver, staying silent felt as if she was lying to Brighid. That was something she simply could not tolerate.
“When I was a child, my father used to lull me to sleep with tales of a powerful Blade lost by the Empire.”
Brighid felt a warmth blossom within her chest as she soaked in her Driver’s willingness to reveal more of herself. Giving the woman’s arm another gentle squeeze in silent thanks, she turned to study her solemn profile.
“The late Emperor told you stories about me?”
“No, not the Emperor… my father, Lord Eandraig.” The Inquisitor smiled softly. “Legend has it that the Jewel of Mor Ardain was a powerful spirit that no one could seem to wield. She had been a tour d ’force during the Aegis War, but somewhere along the way, the Ardainian Imperial line became unworthy of her. Her core crystal remained dormant for decades.”
“Forgive me, Lady Mὸrag, but this seems like an awful bedtime story for a child…”
The Inquisitor laughed and patted her Blade’s hands with affection. “I suppose that’s true, but as I said, we weave fantasies to help children dream.”
“And you dreamed of me?”
Mὸrag’s laughter faded. “Your power is quite formidable and my ancestors used that to serve their will. Never yours. You have never been allowed to be anything but a tool of the Empire. My father believed you grew tired of that existence and eventually stopped resonating with anyone who carried those ideals.”
As her Driver’s words sunk in, Brighid pulled away. Mὸrag’s hands quickly followed and grasped hers with firm reassurance.
“I’m not sure if it was arrogance or just youthful naiveté, but I grew up dreaming of being your Driver.”
“Lady Mὸrag…”
Mὸrag smiled at her with a gentle glimmer in her eyes. “The next time we visit Gormott, I’ll take you back to Lake Yewtle. Perhaps my old whip swords are still buried beneath that tree.”
The quizzical look on her Blade’s face made the Ardainian’s smile widen. “I made your weapons out of sticks and vines.”
“You’re joking…”
“I’m afraid not. Childish dreams, Brighid. I will say, the splinters they gave me did very little to prepare me for the initial burn of your flames. Nothing quite compares.”
“You’ve grown splendidly used to it.”
“Indeed.” Mὸrag turned her gaze back to the mural. “Resonating with you was my dream, but I’m afraid I was too young to realize my desire was quite selfish.”
A warm hand grasped her forearm, encouraging her to continue.
“I wanted to be different. I wanted to be the Driver that would let you walk your own path… and I would merely follow in the shadow of your light. My father’s tales of you always ended the same. The strongest Blade in the Empire grew weary and hid from the world, until one day, a Driver worthy of her spirit was born. I had hoped I could be that hero for you.”
“And you believe that means setting me free from the Empire’s demands?” She squeezed at the arm in her grasp when her Driver nodded. “Yet you enlisted in the army before you resonated with me. You are full of contradiction, Lady Mὸrag.”
“Please don’t misunderstand me. I love my country… serving it and His Majesty in the capacity I do… there is no greater joy for me. I do not regret it.” Mὸrag stepped forward, reaching out to brush a few strands of Brighid’s hair behind her shoulder. “When I first heard those tales of you, I was merely the Emperor’s niece. I had no claim to the Imperial line. My life was very much my own.”
Mὸrag closed her eyes and bent her head down. She drew in a shuddered breath.
“Even after my father died, I stubbornly held onto the belief that I could be the Driver you deserved as the first Empress of Mor Ardain. I was too young to know any better.”
A gentle hand pulled at her chin, forcing the Ardanian to face her Blade’s soft expression. For a few moments, they merely gazed at one another in silence as Brighid drew warming circles against her Driver’s alabaster skin.
“When His Majesty was born, I concocted a plan before Niall was even old enough to speak.” Mὸrag leaned into Brighid’s touch. “When he was older and finally took the throne, he would relieve you of your Imperial duties and you and I would travel the whole of Alrest together.”
The Blade frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you… leaving His Majesty behind?”
“I was young, Brighid.”
“Lady Mὸrag…”
“In time, it became harder to envision a future in which I left his side. When I came of age to join the military, I was at a crossroad – I could either enlist and dedicate my life to protecting my brother with your aide, or I could spend my days trying to convince the Senate to allow a faceless noblewoman to resonate with the Jewel of the Empire.”
“There was never a choice. He’s your family.” Brighid paused for a moment and smirked when Mὸrag’s words fully set in. “Protecting your brother with my aide… you still wanted to be my Driver despite your station?”
“Being in the army merely heightened my resolve, though perhaps to your detriment. I heard the way the other soldiers talked about you, as if you weren’t even a real being…” Mὸrag took a step forward. “I dared to hope that you would at least be happier as my Blade… because I would care for you the way you deserved even if you remained duty-bound.”
“And I am, Lady Mὸrag.”
“My dream changed. It had to. When Niall became Emperor so young… I couldn’t… I needed to be beside him, protecting him. I had to volunteer us.”
“I know.”
The Inquisitor stepped closer, reaching gloved hands out to settled against her Blade’s waist. “And then it finally happened. The first time I was forced to send you to Gormott without me...”
An understanding smile stretched across Brighid’s face. “I don’t begrudge you for your station, Lady Mὸrag. I understand the roles we must play in this life we share.”
“I’m sorry, Brighid, that I cannot be more for you.”
She didn’t reply. The fire Blade merely moved forward, pushed aside the metal visor of her Driver’s cap and brushed their lips together softly.
“You’ve felt this way for a long time… why have you never told me before today?”
Mὸrag bumped their noses together before she stepped back. “I didn’t see much point given our lives are not likely to change. And besides, I came to terms with my role in the Empire long ago.”
The Adrainian sighed as she turned away from her Blade.
“I haven’t consciously felt like this for some time…”
Brighid took a step forward and grazed a burning hand down the back of the woman’s uniform. “It’s that boy, isn’t it? You’ve felt a draw to him ever since you met.”
“Did you know that meeting me made him question if he deserved to be the Aegis’s Driver?” Mὸrag peered at Brighid over her high collar. “I suppose he wasn’t the only one to start doubting himself in Torigoth.”
“You envy his freedom.” Brighid pressed on even as Mὸrag hung her head in shame. “You see in him what could have been had your life taken a different turn.”
“Your keen eye is true as ever, Brighid.”
The Blade circled around her Driver and grasped her gloved hands firmly. “Let it go, Lady Mὸrag. There’s no reason for you to doubt yourself. If my journals are to be believed, then my former selves were quite content to serve as an agent of the Empire. All they ever truly longed for was a Driver who would stand beside them.”
Mὸrag met her hidden gaze. “What?”
“I am not the Aegis, Lady Mὸrag. My desires are not the same.” Brighid smiled softly. “Would I enjoy a life unburdened by servitude to a single nation? Perhaps, but that would mean a life without you. I would much prefer to stand here with you. You treat me as your equal – a true partner, rather than a mere weapon. I am proud to be your Blade and serve the Empire with you.”
“And if given the chance to be your own master?”
Brighid leaned in for another soft kiss. “As you always say, we go together, Lady Mὸrag, and I would have it no other way.”
“I’m being quite foolish, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but I rather enjoy how much you care about me.”
Mὸrag smiled and held out her hand, gripping Brighid’s warm fingers tightly when they entwined with hers. With no further words passed between them, they walked hand-in-hand through the courtyard echoing the chanting of Indoline twilight.
---
Sunlight peered through windows as dawn broke over Indol. Mὸrag awoke just as the first trickle of light began to creep over her skin – the internal alarm clock embedded by her military training sounding without fail. She cringed as the sound of monks singing reached her ears – did they never stop? With a sigh, she opened her eyes and gazed down at the warmth cradled in her arms.
Brighid still slept soundly against her. The rise and fall of her chest was even and deep as if the turbulence of their late-night discussion was long forgotten.
Carefully, Mὸrag raised a hand and gently stroked it through the amethyst locks splayed out against the bedsheets. The sleeping Blade merely burrowed deeper into her chest.
Mὸrag let her eyes wander until they settled on the metal whip swords laid out on a table in the far corner of the room. For a moment, they turned to sticks and vines and the echoes of blissful, childish laughter filled her ears.
A painful knot twisted in her chest as she thought back to her Blade’s unwavering devotion. Brighid had only asked for a Driver to stand beside her and yet, it didn’t feel like enough. Mὸrag couldn’t help but wonder if her Blade was settling for a life of servitude because she had never been afforded the opportunity to dream of anything else. Even if it was done unknowingly, she was compromising her potential so Mὸrag did not have to. It seemed wrong…
A frown marred her lips as she considered the boy and his Blade only two rooms down the hall. He had agreed to share his life with the Aegis in exchange for fulfilling her dream. What had Mὸrag promised her Blade when she chose to pick up Brighid’s core crystal?
Damn that boy.
“I will find a way, Brighid.” She pressed her lips gently against the glowing marks on her Blade’s forehead. “One day, I will find the means to let us live freely. It may not be permanent and it may take time, but I swear to you, I will let you live a life of your choosing before the end.”
---
Only a few days later, after the chaotic dust of Temperantia and Bana had settled, Mὸrag shook hands with the Aegis’s Driver. As they began to file one-by-one onto the Indoline ship bound for Tantal, she hung back and whispered into her Blade’s ear.
“Just you and I, Brighid.” Her amber eyes glimmered.
“You made impressively quick work on your promise, Lady Mὸrag.”
The Inquisitor’s eyes widened in shock as her Blade lovingly brushed a thumb over her cheek. Mὸrag let out a hearty laugh as Brighid ducked around her and boarded the ship with a haughty smirk thrown over her shoulder.
That would teach her to never trust that her closed-eye Blade was ever actually asleep.
As her boots clanked against the wooden planks of the gangway, she raised her head toward the silhouette of the World Tree off in the distance. Despite the threat of a burning world, Mὸrag couldn’t help but oddly feel as though their future was a bit brighter.