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For Zenos yae Galvus’ first nameday, he received a name.
A name that people paid attention to, specifically the last two words. Yae, a prince in line for the throne, Galvus, the name of a royal man.
It seemed that nobody paid attention to Zenos, the child, who grew up under the crown’s shadow. The maids and the servants were polite, but distant for the fear of death. Perhaps, in their coldness, they had created what they feared.
For as the little prince grew, it seemed his soul was covered in darkness, in quiet fear, in empty passage. No warm hugs from his mother, no gentle praise from his father.
No. He just had to get better. Stronger. Powerful. He needed to be worthy of the crown, not the crown that had to be worthy of him. Months and months kept passing, kept encroaching. Had he seen his father last month? Had he seen anyone he could consider family in the past year?
No, he hadn’t. But the child, like always, stayed silent.
---
For Zenos yae Galvus’ eighth nameday, he received a sword.
A woman with strange, pale white hair gave it to him with a smile, in a dress red as blood to honor the empire. Her third eye shined under the light of the window, as she extended her arms out to give it to him. It came sheathed in intricate gold, wrapped up in a closable cloth sheath, with the colors of the empire embroidered in it.
Gifts of little importance were piled behind him, just shiny trinkets, expensive clothing, and all other manner of things his father usually deemed unimportant. Most of these would collect dust, but citizens invited to his parties knew showing up without something was like asking for death.
So it was odd to have a gift he actually… liked. Slowly, he sheathed the blade again, careful of it’s slight curve.
“What is this?” Though the question could be seen as outrage, his words were soft, delicate. Curious.
“This is a blade from the far east, your grace. It is common in Othard, a far Eastern country under Garlemald’s rule. I have heard that the Prince favors studying weapons, so I thought this would prove an interesting experiment. It is an authentic weapon, crafted by the people of Doma, and used by the bladesmen of the Far East, known as samurai.”
Zenos unsheathed the blade again. It was a little funny to watch her flinch in her deep bow. He continued to study the blade, under closer scrutiny. Despite being a Far Eastern sword, it was well-made, likely a master’s craft considering the mal Solaris’ family’s reach. He ran his fingers over the flat edge, eyes taking in the strange make of it. Definitely foreign made, no Garlean would have this type of natural skill. He sheathed it again, impressed by the way it took a small, extra push to close it. A flare for dramatics, like those samurai in the Far East?
“I appreciate this gift greatly, and I shall put it to good use. Emile, please bring this upstairs to my room.” He handed the parcel to his maid, who bowed, turning from his presence to bring it upstairs. A small gasp rippled through the room. Never before had the Prince ordered a gift be brought directly to his room. Could it be that he favored it, perhaps even more than the other things given to him? It seemed already that many families were considering imitating or at least thinking about weapons the Prince may like.
“I am pleased that it is to his grace’s liking. Many blessings upon the Empire of Garlemald, and the crown prince.” With that, she rose from her bow, and went to rejoin her family. Despite himself, he couldn’t stop his eyes from watching her, that ephemeral creature who’d brought a spark of life to his eyes.
---
For Zenos yae Galvus’ twelfth nameday, he received a pair of chakrams.
This time, the girl, Albina mal Solaris, was nearly bouncing on her feet with excitement. After years of successful gift after gift, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity with her. Every year, Albina showed up in a new red dress, bearing a gift of a different size and shape, with a detailed explanation of what the gift was. Last year, she had brought him something that was hilarious to watch her bring in- a hunting hawk from Gyr Abania, something hard to procure but definitely priceless to see her wrangle. It had nearly bit one woman’s hat. Fun times. He had named said hawk Solar, just for the hell of it, and perhaps to remember who gave it to him.
“And this is?” He looked up at her, a little expectant for the explanation, even if he could mask his expression.
“These are chakrams from Thavnair, a similar pair to what I now use to serve our empire. I have joined the military of our great country, in the fifteenth imperial legion under Legatus Legionius Gaius van Baelsar.” She began, performing the imperial salute. Ah yes, that explained not only her glee at freedom, but also her more rigid, stronger pose. “As the prince enjoys learning weaponry, especially the katana, I will provide a different puzzle for his grace to solve. Perhaps he can learn why this weapon so strongly attracted me.”
Zenos held a chakram in his free hand, turning it this way and that. The way the light glanced off of it… those edges had to be blades. A circular blade. What a marvel it was! And it was so lightweight, but he could guess that the blade was sharp, even if it wasn’t heavy.
“You now serve as a…”
“A saltator- a dancer. I learned the arm of battledance from a troupe of Thavnairian dancers, and the military approved my talents and allowed me to continue my practice on the battlefield. If his grace requires this troupe to teach him, I still have the information to contact them.”
“Then I shall bother you for it later. Please take these to my room, Laurentis.” He passed the box to the butler at his side, who took it with a bow and set off for upstairs. “I once again thank you, Lady Albina, for a satisfactory gift. You must have been under some duress since you’d recently enlisted.”
“It was no trouble at all.” She simply replied, rising from her bow and giving him a small wink before she returned to the crowd of people.
Though the prospect of a new weapon was burning in his mind, he couldn’t help but hope that these sharp circles would give him an insight into the woman’s mind.
---
For Zenos yae Galvus’ sixteenth nameday, he received a gift from two people, the city of Ala Mhigo.
This time, by his lady’s side, was Gaius van Baelsar, without the heavy helmet. Zenos had to admit that he was a little shocked Gaius wasn’t an old man under there.
Albina was now Albina quo Solaris, a centurio in his army. She was much more battle-hardened now, but her eyes still had glee in them, her hair was still long, and she still seemed excited to be by her superior officer’s side.
The box, this time, was worryingly small, and he silently prayed her streak of good gifts hadn’t ended. Last time, she had marched a leader of the Ala Mhigan rebellion right into the ballroom, to be presented to Zenos. He’d been rather satisfied by that, though he hadn’t brought that gift to his room for obvious reasons. And she’d given him the man’s sword. Twice the satisfaction.
Slowly, he unwrapped the ribbon around the box, and golden light gleamed across his eyes. This one, it was an intricate key with rubies and diamonds set into it. But anyone at a glance, anyone studied, would know what this artifact was.
The key to Ala Mhigo.
“I hope you’ll forgive the fact that it was from both of us, but this is a rather precious gift and it’s almost too much for one to give- but I hope his grace can attribute most of the credit to Legatus van Baelsar. Though I had the idea, he was the one who executed it.”
“Nonsense, you had directed your troops astoundingly. Do not make yourself look bad, centurio.”
“Yessir, sorry sir!” She jumped to the imperial salute, nearly drawing a laugh from Zenos. He instead smiled, resting on the arm of his chair with his hand on his chin.
“So, mind enlightening me to what this is?”
“Ah, right, your grace! This is a rare artifact that we had been unable to extract from Ala Mhigo for quite some time. It is the key to the inner sanctums of Ala Mhigo, which is where the Prince may one day be viceroy and would like access to these areas. The key was rumored to have been melted down or even destroyed entirely, but because of our reconnaissance and exploration of the unlocked parts of the palace, we were able to find this key.”
“...This may be your best gift yet, quo Solaris. You’ve gifted me an entire city- or at least, you’ve gifted me perhaps the most valuable part of it.”
Albina had turned strikingly red against her white hair, and bowed even deeper. “It was not only my doing- please consider this van Baelsar’s gift as well. This is one that could even be given by a group of people.”
“Yes, I see. To both of you, I assign you Ala Mhigo as your primary duty. You will make sure to keep guard over the Prince’s imperial property. Due to quo Solaris’ position, I will ask that the Legatus soon bid her the title of Tribunis Laticlavius, so that she may focus her attentions on Ala Mhigo’s protection and subjugation. Let it be heard today- the daughter of the mal Solaris family shall one day have the title of Tribunis Laticlavius!” The last sentence rang through the ballroom, followed by echoes of ‘glory to the empire’ and ‘glory to his grace’s words’. Under his gaze, he bid Albina to rise, as she did slowly. Before her, he bent at the waist in a bow.
“May you be our empire’s best military second-in-command, and perhaps our best Legatus, one day. This key, I shall keep with me.”
He kissed her gloved hand, turning her even redder as Gaius guided her away.
---
For Zenos yae Galvus’ twenty-first nameday, he received a broken heart, and a broken bottle.
The Agrius mission was a catastrophic failure. The ship was unretrievable in Silvertear Lake- his Tribunis Legatus was unretrievable in Silvertear Lake.
Albina tol Solaris was dead.
Those five words were worse than the time he’d accidentally cut himself to the bone with his katana. Unlike the wound, she would never return, she would never heal. Gone. In an instant.
He gripped her letter with white knuckles in his office, unable to even look up. Her words were so cheerful, so proud to be helming such an important mission for the empire. She had done everything right- recruited the brightest engineering minds in the empire, planned the route efficiently and for maximum safety. She had even prepared failsafes in her documentation, countless waterproof doors in case of a water landing, a mostly empty bottom of the hull to absorb the ship bumping into anything, reinforced sides and front…
And she was at the bottom of Silvertear Lake because of those damned dragons . She had done everything right, and yet fate took the one person he thought understood him. That brilliant, cheerful, and thoughtful girl, her life ruined because she had helmed the empire’s greatest undertaking. She was supposed to return home to parades, cheers, and songs. Ballads were supposed to be written about her. She was supposed to be named Legatus when Gaius retired or fell in battle. She was supposed to retire fruitfully at an old age, maybe marry some nobleman before then, have a bunch of kids that would all have their mothers’ sense of gift-giving.
But she was gone. And she would never come back.
So was this how it would be now? Surrounded by tasteless gifts, bored to death of everything? Probably. But that future felt so bleak, so boring. No one else could prove proper entertainment. No one else had the mettle, nobody else was the master. She had given him a sword, a purpose. She had given him curiosity. She had given him a goddamn city and the promise to fight alongside him.
And now she was gone .
And it had all come to him on his twenty-first nameday. Brilliant.
A small knock echoed in the room. Holding back the urge to cry, to break something, to scream, he simply said “Enter”.
“Your grace, a gift for your nameday has arrived.”
“Did I not say that I wasn’t taking any gifts today? I’m in mourning.”
“Sir, it is from Albina tol Solaris.”
His blood froze. Slowly, he stalked towards Laurentis, taking the gift from his shaking butler’s hands. He went back to his desk, and pulled open the gift. Inside were two notes… and a broken bottle of champagne, shielded from cutting things by a thick, strong fabric.
The first note was likely written before the battle, something written as she helmed the ship. Albina described soaring, flying, seeing above the clouds and in the thick of them. He could imagine the awe on her face, the smile she wore. She spoke of how the world was so small below her in the breaks of clouds, and how smoothly the ship flew. It was something that would be in a museum some day. He knew he would put this there to honor her.
The other note, however, was less relaxed, less neat. Frantic scribbling on a small piece of paper, something thrown in at the last moment.
Zenos
The ship is going down. I don’t know if this will get to you, but I pray it does. I can’t let your birthday pass without something extraordinary. Please let this be a relief to you.
You will face more birthdays without me, you will be bored. I am sure of this. But please take relief in my final gift to you. I give you the Agrius’ maidenhood, the one I had tied to my heart. I give you her first bottle of champagne, her first time carrying us, bearing us away to war.
I planned to write a longer letter I planned to give you this in person but I won’t be able to do that now. I launched this ship into the air and I will go down with it so my men can escape.
Honor the sword I gave you. Honor the memories we shared, though few.
Happy Birthday, Zenos yae Galvus. Do not let it be your last. Endure. Survive. Live.
-Albina
He slowly lowered the note, placing a hand over the broken bottle. He could still smell the alcohol on it- could still smell the metal, the ceruleum. How had she managed to get ahold of this? How did it not all shatter into a tiny thousand pieces?
He had no clue. And yet, here it was.
“Who delivered this?
“A soldier of the fifteenth, a centurio.”
“...Give him the highest honors you can. Support his family, do everything in your power. And make certain the mal Solaris family is cared for as well for their daughter’s heroic sacrifice to the Agrius.”
---
A few months after Zenos yae Galvus’ twenty-sixth nameday, he received his only friend back, eyes burning as her chakrams sliced into Garlean soldiers in Rhalgr’s Reach.
And finally, he’d received something that was of a perfect mettle.