Chapter Text
"And this, Sir Ebi, is your mission."
The words echoed through the rafters of the grand hall of the castle, bouncing off of the icy keep's walls and resonating through the frigid air. The voice was commanding, but full of hope, of trust; the amount of faith one could glean from the order was almost the same as the trust put into the Great Brothers themselves, the creators who watched over them from above, and just by listening to the voice, every soul present in the audience chamber in front of the throne knew that there was no doubt that the mission would be completed- that their knight would come home victorious.
After all, they were not just sending any knight on this quest.
The kneeling man stood to his full height, his greaves clanking in protest as he settled to stand at ease, his expression calm and resolute. "I swear to you, milord," he announced in front of the grand hall, jade eyes clear, "I shall slay the beast."
King James Ironwood nodded sagely, his expression outwardly serene as he announced, "Time is of the essence. The people of Vale, the innocents of Patch, require your aid. Go, now; we shall prepare transport for you upon the next light's ship." The knight could see past that façade, however; the slight crease between his brows, the heaviness of his shoulders, all indicated that the king was just as unhappy with this request for aid as he.
The king's advisor stepped forward, her mouth twisted into an anxious frown. "But Your Majesty," she cried, her pale eyes frantically looking at the knight through an errant lock of icy-white hair, "the winter months are on the way; the waters between Sanus and Solitas will not be safe-"
The king held up a hand to stop her words, eyes kind and understanding as he murmured, "They shall be treacherous, true, Winter," he said, "but our allies are in need of aid. We, with the might of Atlas, need to protect our allies whenever possible. We shall not allow comrades to struggle." Turning his gaze back to the knight standing before him, he added, "Sir Clover Ebi, Knight of Mantle: will you take on this challenge of slaying the beast plaguing the islands of Vale?"
The knight bowed at the waist, a confident, proud smile on his face; just as his king demanded it. "Consider it done, Your Majesty."
King Ironwood's eyes creased joyfully, lips quirking into a soft, proud smile even underneath his thick, grey-streaked beard and hidden air of concern. Voice soft, he intoned, "I shall. Do us proud, Clover."
Clover straightened up and nodded towards Winter Schnee, alongside the king's bubbly squire, before raising a clenched fist and holding it above his heart in salute to his king. Then, the man's arm dropped to his side before turning on his heel and marching out of the hall. To all onlookers, his gaze was steely and self-assured, his gait confident and brave. He was the perfect knight, with armour polished to a mirror-shine and hooked blade razor-sharp, his chiselled features and smooth tenor calming the hearts of all he protected. They knew that he was heading off to an assured victory; that he bore the skill and majesty of one with the blessing of good fortune from birth, and with the Atlesian banner held high, they knew he would be able to save their allies in the Kingdom of Vale without a doubt.
In his mind, however, Clover was not as hopeful. While his birth had aligned under a glorious star, the Brothers having blessed him with powerfully good fortune all his life, knowing that he was being sent into the literal dragon's maw was never exactly a reassuring thing to realize.
He voiced these concerns in private only to Pietro Polendina, the blacksmith and armoury master in charge of ensuring he was well-equipped for the journey ahead. "They say the beast is a shapeshifter," he said lowly, running his fingers across a well-worn chart marked with his route. His touch dragged across the map, the air heavy with smoke and burning coal and molten metal, sweat almost dripping onto the page as he hunched over the parchment, the heat so unusual to the frozen earth of Solitas causing him to melt. "The beast is here, lurking within a cave upon the island of Patch, at the southernmost point."
"Then you'd best be careful," the master smith soothed. "I wish I could send my Penny with you, but-"
"Penny is needed to service the king," Clover laughed instantly, shaking his head. "Besides, a dragon's den is not a place for a maiden."
Pietro raised a brow at Clover's comment, peering at him over spectacles as he tinkered with the mechanism on Kingfisher, the knight's preferred weapon. "She's going to be your colleague one day," he said flatly, his hammer raised almost threateningly despite the fact that they were separated by over ten feet.
Clover sighed. "I mean no disrespect, master smith. I merely would like to see someone of her age grow old enough to join me as a fellow; there is no loss greater than the loss of a youth, woman or no." With a wry, teasing smile, he added, "Besides, you and I both know that she is stronger than all of the other squires in this castle."
The smith immediately cast him a scandalized look, but the ruddy glow in his cheeks showed his clear happiness from the comment. "From your lips to the servant's ears," he scolded, "so don't you give that kind of fodder to them, you hear me, good knight?"
"Yes, yes," the knight laughed, but his mood was instantly soured as he looked back at the chart, at his already-packed supplies, at his weapon upon the workbench.
"Something else is bothering you."
"It's just…" He let out a long, weary sigh. "I do not understand why a knight of Vale has not been dispatched. The journey to Sanus is not exactly without its perils; it would be far more efficient to send someone of their own lands to slay the beast, would it not?"
Without even looking up from Kingfisher, Pietro commented, "Perhaps they've already tried."
"Well, that's comforting."
"But your luck should keep you safe!"
"Luck may not be enough against a shifter," Clover insisted, standing up and stretching his legs. He began pacing around the workshop, staring at the numerous blades and gauntlets and mails lining the walls, evidence of the master craftsman's handiwork. His skin crawled as he remembered Winter's briefing earlier that day, the images her succinct, honest words had painted into his mind enough to make him shudder. He was used to taking down Grimm infestations and aiding innocents, but this abomination? Shifters were rare enough as it was, so to hear of one living a life of evil… "According to Winter's informants, this creature is a skilled shifter. It is known for seducing and kidnapping women, for pillaging and stealing offerings, for plundering taverns in different forms; multi-headed and fanged and clawed and-"
"And you shall conquer it all," Pietro insisted, finally laying a tuned-up Kingfisher upon a cushion for Clover to hold. "You shall be fine."
Clover opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, the bells chiming the hour began to echo throughout the castle, signalling the time for Clover's next appointment. With a small bow, Clover hooked his weapon upon his best and smiled, "Then, I shall not say goodbye."
"See you soon, sir knight," Pietro bowed back from his rolling chair, all sweat-stained garments and sooty smile, filled with such confidence and affection that Clover had to puff his chest out slightly. "You'd better bring my blade back to me to polish later."
"Of course." With that, Clover donned his usual tunic and heating layers which he had abandoned upon entering the armoury and smithy, scooped up his belongings and headed for his quarters, wincing as the icy northern chill immediately began freezing the sweat upon his temples. He had only half an hour before his presence would be sought; he had one final dinner with his colleagues in the mess, for this night would be for dinner and for drink. Come morn, he would set forth on his quest alone, traversing the Grimm-infested ocean to the Kingdom of Vale to face his greatest foe yet: the dragon of Patch.
He was ready. And, with the Great Brothers and his fortune on his side, he would bring honour to his kingdom no matter what.