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The fallout from the king’s order wasn’t immediately apparent. First it was the increased reports of monster sightings on the outskirts of towns, followed by a gradual increase in soldiers, patrols, and weariness. The monsters trickled, and the royal family thought it could match the threat.
It wasn’t until that one night the townspeople were banging on the doors of the castle, demanding responsibility, demanding protection, that Heles realized that something in Irestill had been broken.
~
“Irestill is lucky to have someone like you watching over it,” a voice says, drawing Heles’ attention away from the retreating view of Alster Island. “Even a fool can see that you love your kingdom very much.”
“Good morning, Percival,” Heles greets the man. “You speak highly of me. I care as much about my kingdom as a ruler – former ruler – should.”
Percival just laughs, also gazing out at the island they’ve just left. It’s an early morning on the deck of the Grancypher. In contrast to the hustle and bustle of departure preparations the day before, the ship is quiet with only the early risers going about their morning business.
Heles sighs. “No matter how many times it’s been, every time we leave Alster, there’s a part of me that wants to stay behind,” she admits. “Even though my brother and I decided it was for the better for the people to grow on their own, I can’t help but worry.”
“I know that feeling. I often think to myself that I should be home helping my country rather than traveling like this, even though I have faith that my brother can handle things just fine,” Percival muses.
Now it’s Heles’ turn to laugh. “I can’t imagine leaving my own brother to take care of a kingdom by himself. Though, I am the elder sister, so the sentiment is probably different.”
They continue quiet conversation, sharing the trials and tribulations of those born to lead. And as Alster Island disappears into the clouds, so, too, do Heles’ worries.
~
In the days following the fall of Irestill, Heles found herself constantly on the front lines, fighting and pushing back the seemingly infinite monster hordes. Though she couldn’t admit it, she preferred the mindlessness of battle. She had sent a missive out to Seruel for him to return home immediately, and was using his absence as an excuse to avoid thinking about what should be done next. Between her father’s rapidly deteriorating health and her emerging, uneasy responsibility, Heles felt trapped.
Wherever Heles went, people thanked her for her service and dedication. Heles could only smile in response and say she was of course doing her utmost to restore peace, despite feeling – knowing – that she really wasn’t. Even though no one was (publicly) pointing fingers at the royal family for the monster mess, Heles felt that it was a result of her own personal negligence.
~
Monster extermination requests with the crew put Heles at ease. They make her feel that she’s helping people, and she’s satisfied having a use for her years of rigorous training. Sitting in a room and giving orders never sat well with her.
There’s one night that the crew is staying over in a town when monsters suddenly begin to swarm.
“You shouldn’t lose focus during a battle,” Scathacha says while deflecting a monster attack that Heles should have easily avoided. The crew has split up into small groups to cover more ground.
“Of course,” Heles apologizes. A whirl and stab of her spear, and there’s a momentary respite from the attack. She takes the opportunity to catch her breath. “The situation just reminded me of that time…”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Scathacha interrupts. In contrast to the others around, Scatchacha looks nonplussed by the monster attack, even a little bored. “Mortals always go for the doom and gloom first. Irestill recovered just fine, right? This is nothing.”
Reassured by Scathacha’s easy confidence, Heles hefts up her spear to follow the action to the next sighted batch of monsters. “You’re right,” she agrees. “The past is past, but we can easily change this town’s future.”
~
Naoise’s return with the skyfaring crew came as a weight off Heles’ shoulders. Despite her and Seruel’s apologies and promises, the true dragon, Deirdre, didn’t seem too keen on being cooperative. But Deirdre seemed to take a liking to Naoise despite the knight’s misgivings, which freed Heles up somewhat from the babysitter role. So, moving into the next phase of the plan, the royal siblings were going to speak directly to the people.
Reconstruction was going well enough. Morale was reasonably high. It eased Heles to see the citizens smiling and working hard to rebuild their homes and livelihoods. The skyfarers greatly helped to purge monsters as well, their support allowing the regular patrols to take a breather and recoup spirits.
At the back of Heles’ mind, though, was a nagging feeling that things would go wrong again. Sure, they had already recovered Deirdre and made their amends, but even if the true dragon agreed to restore protection to the land, there was no guarantee that the magic power transfer would work. If that were the case… well, Heles had no backup plan. In the meantime she could only go about the public speeches with confidence she didn’t completely feel.
~
In another town, Heles is on a shopping errand for the crew when she hears a ruckus of children’s voices. It quiets down quickly but Heles goes to look anyway, finding a little park with a group of dejected children in the sandbox. They’re standing around a collapsed sand castle. One small girl is even crying.
“What’s the matter here, kids?” she asks in her best big sister tone. If it’s something she can help with, of course she wants to try.
A angrily pouting boy throws down his toy shovel. “The big kids kicked over the castle we worked so hard on!” he says.
Heles sets down her bag and gets in the sandbox with the children. “Come now, let’s rebuild it together. I’ll help you.”
The crying girl stops crying, and looks at Heles with big, tearful eyes. “But the others will just knock it down again. They said they would…”
“Sometimes unexpected things happen that set you back.” Heles pats the girl’s head encouragingly. “And it can be very frustrating. But what’s important is that you try again.”
“Yeah!” another kid chimes in. “We’re gonna build a bigger, better castle!”
One by one the children get working on rebuilding their bigger, better castle. Heles happily lets them direct her, and within an hour they have the makings of a grand – if a bit lopsided – new castle. Heles decides the children will be fine on their own with their newfound determination, as she must eventually return to the airship.
“What if the older kids come back?” the previously angry boy asks her as she’s brushing sand off her clothes.
“Hm… I think, even if they knock down your castle again, you just have to show them you won’t give up. Eventually, when they see that, they will give up.”
The boy seems to ponder this. “Okay!” he says eventually. “Thanks for all the help, big sis! We’ll show those kids!”
~
There was a part of Heles that knew, had to have known, that things would eventually turn out this way. She had discussed with Seruel the renouncing of their titles; a chance for Irestill to turn over a new leaf and grow in a way that it never could when the king was still alive. Her little brother seemed hesitant about giving up the position they had known their entire lives but agreed nonetheless.
They appointed a council to watch over and guide the new Irestill, trusted both by the siblings themselves and by the citizens. For a short time, the new government seemed to be taking off. It wasn’t so drastic a change from how it was before, since it wasn’t as if the king didn’t hold his own counsel.
But then came the inquiries. Day in and day out, the new council members asked Heles for advice on what to do next. She was happy to oblige for a while, until she realized that really, wouldn’t it be as if nothing changed? Like this, Heles was still the royal princess in all but name, the role she was sort of trying to avoid in the first place.
Heles felt like she was running away when she asked the skyfarer captain if she could join the crew. She did truly believe that it was in Irestill’s best interests to grow on its own without her, but there was also a part of her that wanted to escape the heavy responsibility of a kingdom. Seruel had already been spending more time traveling with the crew than on Alster, even if he had been the one more dedicated to being a prince than she a princess when they were younger. Heles, too, wanted a taste of the open skies.
~
“There you two are,” Naoise says as he enters a particular sitting room on the Grancypher, where the formerly royal siblings are already relaxing with their afternoon tea. Naoise is holding a thick bundle of letters tied with twine, which he sets on the table. “I just picked these up from the mailroom. Looks like letters from home.”
“Oh? Let’s see.” Heles sets down her teacup, leaning over to untie the bundle. The letters are tied tight, and spring unbounded into a messy pile once she loosens the twine. She picks up the one that had been on top first, seeing as it’s from one of the council members, and opens it quickly.
Dear Lady Heles and Lord Seruel, it reads. It has been a while since the two of you have returned home, so we had an idea to have the people let you know themselves how the kingdom is doing. These are letters that were sent in from all over, and we hope they can bring you some happiness.
The three sift through the rest of the letters together, finding them mostly addressed to Heles or Seruel and the occasional one to Naoise. Heles smiles at the ones in sloppy handwriting, obviously written by children. Many of the longer letters are quite personal as well, stories of growth and success since the reconstruction. Heles also notices that all the letters she’s read have one thing in common: they thank her for time as a princess and a protector of Irestill, both before and after the fall.
“Funny how a lot of my letters also talk about how wonderful you are, Sister,” Seruel says dryly.
“Am I not?” Heles replies, mostly as a joke.
Seruel quietly takes a sip of tea. “Of course you are. Everyone knows how hard you worked for the kingdom. I do, especially.”
The unexpected honesty leaves Heles at a momentary loss. This, along with the letters of thanks, makes Heles realize that all those years she had been thinking about duty backwards. Guiding Irestill had never been about making herself feel accomplished – it was about the happiness of her people, and they certainly had no complaints about her.
“Thank you, Seruel,” Heles says, smiling softly, and this time she really feels like she’s done enough.