Chapter Text
A distant rumble shook Mòrag from where she was taking a short nap at her desk, the pen that was resting beside her clattering to the ground. She awoke in an instant, peering out of her window. One of the newly furbished industrialised buildings they had in Mor Ardain was crumbling, erupting in a cloud of ash and smoke. She clenched her fist but sighed hopelessly. The revolts had lasted for six months on end already with no sign of stopping anytime—people were divided into two factions; the ones that believed humans were relying too much on blades and ether, and the ones that fought to protect the blades.
She stood up and made to leave her room when Brighid crashed into her room, out of breath.
“Did you hear the noise, Lady Mòrag?” She demanded. Mòrag nodded, gesturing to the pen and the papers that had fallen to her bedroom floor.
Brighid shook her head. “I suppose it was inevitable… people are born to fight one another. There can never truly be peace, can there?”
Mòrag let out a weary sigh and shook her head. “I do not know. I am not the one with decades of knowledge, after all,” She eyed Brighid meaningfully, who crossed her arms indignantly.
“My memories are lost every time I am reawakened, my lady. I can only rely on my journal for any hints of the past.” She flicked her hair back, her huffing returning to steady breathing. “Anyway, Rex and the others seem to be arranging a meeting of some sort.” She told Mòrag.
“A meeting… to stop the turmoil?” Mòrag mused. “I doubt it will be effective. All we have is the royals and guards of all our countries. Besides, as a person of power, I refuse to launch any attacks on civilians, and I staunchly believe Niall would agree to that.”
“You cannot expect the people to comply to peace, not at a time like this. Even if you refuse to deploy guards to silence them, they will continue to attack us—they all cling onto what they believe is correct…and their will is terrifyingly strong.”
Mòrag rearranged the papers on her desk absent-mindedly. “I just do not want to start another war,” She put simply.
Brighid stared dead into her eyes—even with her eyes closed, Mòrag could feel the intensity burning into her flesh. “War has already begun, Lady Mòrag. It’s join in or perish now.”
It was true that Mòrag did not want to meet with their old friends, dreading the thought of having to plan attacks on the revolting people, or the sliver of a chance that one of their friends might die protecting their land. Another part of her, however, dreaded meeting the prince of Tantal again.
-A Year ago-
“You two should help plan our next attack,” Rex gestured to Mòrag and the prince, his head lowered deep in thought. “You two should have the most experience in battle, and we’re gonna face a really tough guy.” He was talking about the battle with the wild beasts in Gormott. Brighid had suggested that they earn some experience from defeating tougher enemies before heading to Tantal, but Rex was at a dead-end on how to face the gargantuan animal while utilizing their skills properly.
Mòrag nodded in agreement and sat herself at the corner of the inn after the others had retreated to their rooms for the night, tapping her pen against her lips while she tried to fabricate the perfect sequence for them to attack. It was a bad habit, but nobody was around, so she hummed while continuing to nibble on the end of the pen.
An arm suddenly swung itself around her shoulder, catching her off guard. “Hey, Mòrag. Need help?” The prince’s voice sounded from behind her as he released her. Immediately she blushed and removed her pen from her lips, placing it back on the table and hoping he had not noticed her childish act.
He eyed her curiously as she prayed he wouldn’t say anything about it—and he did not. He merely smiled and sat down beside her.
“How did you get behind me?” Mòrag scoffed, indignant that the prince had snuck up on her without her noticing.
He shrugged. “I’m quite stealthy, you know. Just because I am this muscular doesn’t mean I can’t be quiet.”
“You struggle to be quiet at every conversation,” Mòrag retorted, but she passed him her pen, drawing their topic back to the matter at hand. “I was wondering if we should have Rex strike first with Mythra, since her light element is rather handy in linking other attacks.”
“Yeah, you could seal stench on the foul beasts if you move after her. That’s cool. Will you be bringing Godfrey?” He asked her, taking the pen as she acutely realized he was holding the pen that she had been nibbling on. She shook off the thought.
“I will. You can opt for Vale, then. We don’t have any dark type coverage.”
They pored over the plan for another hour before Mòrag felt a huge yawn escape from her mouth, her eyelids drooping shut involuntarily. She quickly went unconscious unknowingly, her head slumping forward on her arms that were folded on the table.
When she awoke, she found herself right where she fell asleep—at the desk at the corner of the inn, except a huge coat was thrown over her shoulders. She tugged on the collar and instantly recognized the prince’s signature coat markings. Drowsily, she dragged her feet to the door of his room, coat still wrapped around her, and knocked on the door softly.
She breathed a sigh of relief as Zeke came to the door—she was partially worried that Pandoria would be the one at the door. That would cause quite a misunderstanding.
“Hey—oh, you brought my coat.” He rubbed his eyes groggily and held out a hand to accept the coat when she passed it back to him. “I thought you might get chilly in the midnight breeze. Don’t get mad.”
“I am not,” She replied. “Though I would not have minded it if you had carried me back to my room either…” She muttered under her breath before it registered that she had said it out loud. Lucily, he tilted his head to the side, still sleepy.
“What was that?” He asked. When she shook her head and dismissed the question, he grinned and nudged her shoulder. “Hey, no worries, partner. We got the whole plan done anyway! See you in a bit.” He grinned, but before he closed the door, he winked at her. “It’s a cute habit. You biting pens.” He shut the door immediately after, leaving her stunned with no room to respond for a heartbeat. As she exited the corridor, she could hear the faint voice of Pandoria asking the prince about who was at the door, but the words were inaudible to her. She ran a hand over her shoulder where the coat was several moments ago and felt a foreign rush of heat to her face.
It was another one of those restless nights for her—Mòrag paced the balcony of the inn that overlooked the icy plains of Tantal’s titan, her area of movement limited to the small inn as she was unfamiliar with the raised altitude of the town. She felt a wave of melancholy even though she hadn’t been staying here for long. Tantal’s titan was dying—as was Mor Ardain’s—one affected by severe sandstorms and the other by a mysterious fog and constant blizzards. In some way, they were the same—both their titans and their royalty, suffering from the constant distress of wondering when the day their titan falls would finally come.
“I wonder what this place used to look like,” Zeke’s voice spoke up from behind her. She did not flinch out of surprise, to her own amazement. Part of her expected the prince to not be asleep yet, anyway.
“Has it been as bleak ever since you were born?” She asked, allowing him space to stand beside her at the railing.
He nodded. “It’s just as bad as Mor Ardain,” He muttered quietly. “I wish there was something we could do to prevent that.”
“So you do care for your people,” Mòrag mused, smiling lightly, a teasing hint in her voice.
He bristled visibly, crossing his arms in indignance. “Of course I do. I’ve told you why I left Tantal in the first place, haven’t I?”
“You did. I jest.” Mòrag responded smoothly.
“Don’t joke about that. I’m quite self conscious about how people think of me—the wild prince who was disowned for his betrayal to his homeland… that’s a title some still pin on my head.”
“I apologise,” Mòrag turned to face him briefly. “Though… Were there not dozens of women fawning over you wherever we travel? Just yesterday that Urayan we saved was asking me if she could see the prince when you were away.” She made a face as if mocking the girl who was crazed over the prince.
“I suppose you didn’t tell her then?”
“I was going to, but she seemed to be obsessed to the point of yearning for your hand in marriage, so I thought I’d save you by telling her you were out of the country.”
“Thanks,” He grinned again, his usual demeanor returning.
Why did I lead the girl away? Mòrag thought to herself. There was no need for her to help drive away unwanted attention from the prince as if she was guarding him. She knew thousands of people on Alrest know of the tales of Thunderbolt Zeke, and with him being of age to be a proper suitor, he had been drawing even more attention from the crowds, especially when they were walking down the streets in Tantal. After all, he did not look half bad… Mòrag might even admit that the prince was rather charming in his looks, if not for his hapless nature.
She was certainly lacking sleep, she told herself.
“Geez, Mòrag. Is the cold getting to you?” Zeke asked out of the blue.
She tilted her head in confusion.
“You’re blushing. I suppose the weather never gets past windy in Mor Ardain, eh?” He chuckled, swinging an arm around her shoulders casually, with the manner of a drunk man at the inn.
She was wearing an extra layer of clothes that day, though she did not have the heart to tell him her blushing was not from the cold.
“Zeke,” She spoke again. “Shall we agree to rebuild our countries after we get through this together?”
“Of course! With Rex and the others,” He winked at her, but she did not understand the hidden agenda of the wink. “You’ll back me up, right? We’ve got to see what our titans look like with grass and without the storms.”
“Indeed,” She murmured, her breaths coming out in clouds in the crystalline mist that was surrounding them.
At the core of Spirit Crucible Elpys, Their blades were toppling down in exhaustion one by one, their energy drained by the glowing mist that was surrounding the cave, struggling to breath through the stuffy atmosphere. Nia was practically slumping on Rex’s arm for support now, her eyes barely open anymore.
“I think we should take a rest,” Mòrag spoke through the stuttered breathing of their friends, surveying each person’s conditions. She was the only one who was fully human, anyway(besides Tora and Poppi), so she would have no idea how it felt to be in their position.
“Ah…. Great.” Nia thanked her command as she sat down, heaving a sigh of relief.
Mòrag took off her hat to let air through her hair, eyeing Nia sideways. “You could have rested anytime during the trip. You didn’t have to act on my command,” She mused puzzledly.
Brighid, who was already seated on her knees, flashed her an indecipherable smile. “You do not understand your power, Lady Mòrag. You are like a leader to them, being royalty and all.”
So is Zeke—She was about to reply when she saw the prince and Pandoria both crumple to the ground in exhaustion. Brighid was right—she was the only one fit to command especially at a time like this.
Tora and Poppi were mighty fine—after Poppi had let out the steam from her cooling system, they have now resorted to chasing each other in circles around their group as if without a care in the world. Mòrag felt a slight tinge of envy at how innocently they enjoyed every moment.
“Hey Mòrag…” Pandoria called from a foot away, beckoning her with a hand, her voice dripping with tiredness. “Come sit down with us! I’m tired… of being… the prince’s cushion…” She yawned between words.
Mòrag looked over to Brighid as if seeking approval, who nodded at her. “Don’t be shy,” Her blade murmured to her with a coy twist on her lips. “I know what you are thinking.”
Mòrag tensed at the statement, but she obediently walked over and sat down between Zeke and Pandoria, the latter instantly fell on her arm and fell asleep, while Zeke, still unconscious, slowly leaned towards her and rested his head on her shoulder, a look of contentment washing over his face at the support. Mòrag did not know how to react—he looked peaceful in his sleep, and she worried that any movement might disturb their chance to rest up.
She tried to shake the thoughts out of her head—they both looked way too deep in slumber to be woken up by anything. She hooked her arm that was on his side around his shoulder supporting his frame. Sneaking a peek at the prince’s face, she noticed tufts of his wild silver hair falling over his eyes. Without a second thought, she unlodged her arm from Pandoria’s grasp, gently brushing away the hair that was in his face before returning her arm to her side before Pandoria could muster up a complaint.
When she looked up, she found herself meeting the gaze of a slightly apprehensive Rex. “Uh… Mòrag, you alright there?” He asked hesitantly, as if he was trying to dodge around something.
“What do you mean?”
Nia, who had regained some of her strength, let out a small giggle. “You never look at anyone that way, Mòrag.” She teased weakly.
“What way?” She questioned, a surge of nervousness rising in her throat as she conjured all the possible emotions she might have betrayed in the previous half a minute.
Brighid, who was sitting as neat as ever with her arms folded before her, chuckled. “Stop feigning ignorance, my lady. That was the most endearing way you have ever looked at anyone.”
“I do not understand what you mean.” Mòrag replied sharply, freezing her expression to stop them from commenting any further. She had no business interfering with the prince’s relationships with any people—he had enough women crowding over him wherever he went already. Besides, she was too dedicated to her work to spare time for such unnecessary luxuries anyway…
She felt a twinge of sadness. It was foreign, unlike the sadness she felt when grieving her dead parents as a child or a fallen soldier in battle. It was as if she was letting something slip away that she couldn’t grasp on to strong enough.
“We should get moving if we want to make it there as soon as possible. We still need to solve what’s at the bottom of this cave,” She announced after several more minutes, gently prodding the two snoring lumps beside her awake and pulling them to their feet. Brighid eyed her curiously, but made no move to comment as she was most probably too worn out to make a snarky remark.
They were falling for what seemed like hours after the platform crumbled beneath them, sending them plummeting to the bottom of Morytha. Mòrag could barely see any of her companions, but she was able to keep herself vigilant as to alert the others once they reached the ground. In a close distance, she was suddenly aware of a large chunk of marble spiralling quickly downwards. Her eyes followed the path of the rock and felt panic rise to her throat as she saw it flying straight towards Zeke--who was unfortunately unconscious. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the ground getting closer to them . If nothing was done, he would be crushed to bits by the tumbling boulder. Acting quickly, she dived at the last moment and grabbed hold of him, rolling to the side and narrowly dodging the rock which landing with a booming crash next to them.
Panting from the impact, she was too stunned to even question how they survived without dying from the blunt force trauma. Our goal would be to search for the others now.. she thought, getting up—at least, that's what she wanted to do, when she realized the prince's staggering weight was still on top of her, crushing any means of her standing up. Feeling her chest being deprived of air, she wished to shove him off, but she knew the prince was rather muscular, and he was still unconscious at the time, so she decided to wait until he awoke to let him know.
Out of nowhere, breaking the silence, Zeke coughed, and Mòrag was instantly alert again. "Are you awake?" She asked, hoping for a positive answer so she could take a breather.
"Yeah. Been awake the whole time." Zeke responded exhaustedly, causing her eyes to fly wide.
"Then why did you not let me know when we landed?" Mòrag almost yelled, and she heard him snigger under his breath.
"It felt nice," He replied, making her flush red in the face. "Besides, I could have dodged the boulder at the last moment, but you were faster than me, so I let you."
"Sure you did. Now can you please get off? I can't breathe." Mòrag snapped.
"Okay, okay," the prince mumbled, rolling off to lie beside her. As if suddenly struck by realisation, he sat up in a jolt. "Wait, where are the others? Where's Pandy?" He asked, the concern rising to his face.
"I do not know. We will have to search for them—" Mòrag was about to look around their surroundings when a thump sounded behind her followed by a yelp of pain, and she turned around to see Pandoria clambering to her feet, groaning and dusting herself off.
"Oh, hi, you guys are safe! The fall really messed up my skirt." The green-haired blade complained. "I saw Tora, Nia and Dromarch nearby when I fell, so they shouldn't be far away."
"What about Rex and the rest of them? " Zeke asked his blade. "Any sign of them?"
Pandoria shook her head in dismay. Mòrag looked around once again. "I cannot feel the presence of Brighid," She announced, touching the hilt of the whipswords at her belt.
"Let's check over there first," Zeke suggested, pointing to the boulder that they dodged which was barricading a path ahead. "Lend me a hand, Pandy!"
"No problem!" Pandoria held out her hands, the golden string of ether flowing into the gigantic sword that Zeke was already brandishing at the boulder. He swung it twice in contradicting directions before giving it a hefty kick, which shattered the boulder to pieces and showered them in dust and rubble.
"Learn to make less of a mess next time," Mòrag growled, though her tone was playful. After the dust cleared, they climbed over the rubble to a clearing where a pile of fuzzy figures were lying.
"Is that you, Furry Ears?" Zeke called out, sheathing his sword.
Nia's head popped out from the pile. "Oh goodness, you guys are alive." She exclaimed and bounded over to them. "Tora and Dromarch are here with me, but I haven't seen the rest of them."
Dromarch padded over to join his driver. "We must make haste to look for the others, lest they get into trouble." Mòrag gave him a nod of agreement. Tora bounced up to them, his fur matted and dusty, but the cheeky glint was still present in his eye.
"Let's find friends!" The nopon sounded optimistic. They walked up a large slab of stone which resembled a part of a building that had been broken off. Nearby, there were wire fences and windows without panes, as if it was the remnants of an old city.
"This place looks like a mess," Zeke commented as they passed rows of crumbled houses and buildings and metal poles on ancient roads that seemed to break off at every possible end.
Mòrag examined their surroundings. "Still, it seems as if the people who once lived here were extremely advanced. Their buildings are made of a sturdy material and their roads are perfectly laid out. I wonder what happened here..."
A faint growl came from the distance. Nia and Zeke both instinctively held out their already glowing weapons, which Mòrag mirrored, though the swords at her side were dull without the powers of a blade. Tora hopped behind Zeke's legs, peering through them to see what kind of enemy they were up against.
A disfigured hand crept out from behind a fallen lamppost. It was bony and veiny—it's fingers were disturbingly long and there were tendrils extending from the hand, twirling in the air as if sensing for enemies. They all tensed, waiting for the beast to show its face. It slowly crawled out and rose to its full height, towering over them by more than a few feet. It's face was a disheveled mess, its facial features seemingly crushed carelessly onto its face and its eye sockets were leaking some sort of fluid. Even without a clear face, the creature was obviously leering at them, claws already before it and crouched as if ready to pounce.
"It's just one, we'll be fine—" Nia made to reassure herself, but got cut off as more of the same sickeningly blue figures crawled out from the corner to join its companion. They were all of different sizes, but the dismembered faces and vile veiny limbs were all prominent. With a loud screech, the tallest one pounced towards their group, baring fangs that appeared somewhere in its mangy mess of a face. It held out a hand, which glowed and seemed to absorb something from the blades, before hurling the glowing mass at them.
"It's copying your elements!" Mòrag quickly noticed. "Try not to get hit by the glowing attack."
Seeing as the group were effectively shielding against their elemental copying attacks, the creatures decided on another approach. The head of the group leapt at them, a hand raised to claw at them. Out of impulse, Zeke's arm shot out and swept Mòrag behind him, whereas Nia drew Tora behind her with her leg. Mòrag could not attack with her dull swords, so she followed the movements of her friends and jabbed the creatures with the blunt hilt of her sword whenever there was an opening.
"You're really gonna let Shellhead command you?" Nia called to Mòrag in between attacks. Mòrag narrowly clocked out an arm that was going for Nia's ears. "Are you really going to dote on that at a time like this? Besides, I am now bladeless and he's the closest to a commander." Nia only giggled but yelled in pain right after as she failed to dodge an arm that struck her on the thigh.
After almost half and hour, the beasts—now a pile of mangled limbs and veins—were all defeated, and they quickly ran into one of the less destroyed buildings for shelter.
"Alright, I'll patch everyone up," Nia announced and transformed into her blade form, pools of blue healing power wafting through the air and sealing any open wounds they had. "Great. Now time for a break..." Nia yawned, crumpling to the floor and sighing in relief. The others did so, but Mòrag decided to sit atop a collapsed fence to be on her guard for any incoming enemies or their friends.
Just as she was about to slump comfortably into the notch she was sitting on, she let out a sigh as the prince approached. "Hey, mind helping me out, my back hurts like the burning factory at Mor Ardain," He complained, giving her a smug grin.
"Fine," Mòrag hopped off the fence and positioned herself behind him, finding the right spot to hit. As she was doing so, he suddenly asked out loud, "When this is all over, you wanna go on a date?"
She instantly stopped what she was doing, caught unaware by the sudden question. "What do you mean?" She demanded.
"Well, we are royals, so eventually we would have to be paired off with some other noble we know nothing of against our will, so we might as well try out what a real date feels like," He explained matter-of-factly, shrugging.
"Are you....?"
"Actually, forget it. Let's think about that later," He spoke quickly. "Please help my Architect forsaken back."
Mòrag rolled her eyes and continued, though she did enjoy doing it. Sometimes the prince says the damndest things at the strangest moments, but it would always be the enjoyable times of their journey. She made a note to herself to remember those times.
When Azurda finally landed beside the other titans in their new world, they all departed their separate ways back to each of their homelands to restore the community and keep the nobles calm and in order. As they were hugging each other goodbye and bidding luck to their future work, Zeke made his way to Mòrag. She could feel her hearth thumping, anticipating what he had to say to her.
He wakled over to her, his expression shaded by something undecipherable. And he said—those words were forever etched into her mind; “We should keep a distance from each other, Special Inquisitor. I bid you good luck.” He told her curtly before rejoining Pandoria in an instant, and they were off in a flash.
Mòrag could partially understand—he wanted to focus on rebuilding the people’s homeland, and any unnecessary friendships would be bothersome. However, that seemed more of what Mòrag herself would say. The prince was much too cheerful and affable to any stranger they encounter, so those words coming out of his mouth were… odd. On top of that, those words sounded foreign. Why would his attitude towards he change so abruptly?
She ignored it anyway—she agreed with him to an extent. Though something inside her sank, the slightest hint of disappointment, she believed there was work to be done, and decided to shove that into the back of her mind and forget about it for now.
That was, until the cities began to crumble.
Mòrag yelped as Brighid tugged on the ropes that were holding her dress up. “I still do not understand why they insisted on this war meeting being a formal party,” She grumbled.
Brighid shrugged. “They had to appeal to what’s left of the nobles. Besides, this will probably be the last party we’ll be able to attend, if anything goes south—we had best savour it.” She immediately tugged on the ribbons on Mòrag’s outfit right as she finished her sentence.
Brighid was silent as she worked, but when she was done she twirled Mòrag around and gave her a stern glare. “You are worried about meeting them again, aren’t you?” She asked directly.
Mòrag nodded, unable to hide anything from her blade. “It’s not just about Zeke. I am worried for the other’s safety as well. Besides… we have not spoken to one another in a long time.” To be fair, she did meet the others several times during the first phase of their country renovations, but she had not spoken to the prince even once during the three long years of work and hustle.
“You’ll be fine,” Brighid said briefly before ushering her to the door. “We should hurry. Mor Ardain are the hosts after all.”
They made their way to the only remaining hall, located high above the palace, before any of the rampaging mobs find a way to reach it and burn it down. As they passed the shattered windows in the halls, Mòrag could feel her heart racing in nervousness and sentiment. Their city had only been rebuilt three years ago, and now it was falling to ruins because of people’s thirst for war as a means to solve their conflict.
Lost in thoughts, she did not even realize she was already positioned at the centre of the hall platform, ready to greet their guests. She could feel her eyes constantly scanning the people that were entering, hoping to locate a familiar group of misfits that were always up to some sort of chaos. Niall, who was on her other side, gave her a thumbs up and grinned.
After about half an hour, there was still no sign of their friends. Mòrag began to grow anxious, fiddling with her fingers impatiently. She lowered her head to let out a heaving sigh before hearing a loud crash at the door.
“Tora, you bloody idiot! Why didn’t you turn off the blaster for Poppi before coming?” Nia’s blaring voice sounded from the entrance. Mòrag immediately spotted the furry-eared blade, who was bristling with her hands on her hips, growling at a cowering Tora, who was desperately trying to explain himself.
“Tora forgot!” He yelped, hastily pressing a few button’s on Poppi’s back. “Tora fix it right now!”
Rex, who was behind Nia, as well as all their blades, attempted to calm them down.
“Come on, Nia, let’s look for Mòrag. That’s our priority, yeah?” He told her, with Pyra nodding in assurance behind him—though Mòrag noticed Pyra was smirking at the commotion.
Pandoria and Zeke were there too—the former was poking at Poppi’s arm excitedly. “Hey, Tora! Got any new upgrades?”
Poppi flapped her arms ecstatically. “Masterpon added supersonic blaster to Poppi’s left arm! Can show friend Pandoria—”
“Hey! That’s enough.” Zeke snapped, dragging Pandoria away while giggling all the same. “We don’t need anything blowing up tonight.”
Mòrag finally let out the rest of her sigh, though she could not stop the corners of her mouth creeping upwards. Their friends were still as noisy and problematic as usual, but it felt familiar and comforting.
“Hey Mòrag, what’s with the sigh?” Nia’s voice jolted Mòrag out of her brief second of thinking. How they had gotten to her so fast, she did not know. They were all crowded around her now, a chattering group of young people that drew disapproving looks from the nobles nearby. She searched the group and found the prince’s eyes—but he was awkwardly trying to dodge her gaze, so she ignored it. If he needed space, she’ll let him have it.
“I love your dress!” Pyra gushed, admiring her dress from afar as she was barred by Nia, Tora and Pandoria, who were all bouncing in front of Mòrag and trying to tell her something simultaneously.
Mòrag nodded at Pyra and pointedly ignored the three bobbing figures before her playfully. “Thank you.” She said, pretending not to notice Tora when he waved at her face.
Zeke, although awkwardly avoiding her gaze, seemed to enjoy being among their friends again. He was grinning as usual, even though the smile faltered just enough for her to notice. She did not mention it.
“Are we nothing to you?” Pandoria scoffed, crossing her arms and feigning anger, though her pout was highly unconvincing.
Mòrag laughed and finally acknowledged them. “Of course not. You were merely annoying,” She said. “You lot should quiet down, though. I think the nobles aren’t quite fond of you.”
“You could at least have some fun, Mòrag.” Rex argued. “We haven’t gotten the chance to do this in forever.”
“I will.” She promised, and waved them off. Niall came up to her and patted her on the shoulder.
“You sound like you are having fun with your friends,” He mused, a look of envy on his face. He had grown throughout the three years, and was now eye-to-eye with Mòrag. “I was just greeting the senators over there,” He informed her.
“Thank you for drawing their attention away,” Mòrag said exasperatedly. “I do not want any civil wars among the nobles.”
“No worries, dear sister. Your friends are quite the lively bunch—I wish the nobles would understand the way they enjoy life.” He complimented, smiling and waving back at Nia, who was frantically waving at him from where she was standing with the group.
The usual proper speeches and announcements were made by Niall and another senator, before everyone settled down to eat and chatter with one another, with the nobles bantering with other nobles, while Rex’s group sat down on the floor in a circle, chatting about something so wild that Nia and Tora had their fur standing on end. The blades were sitting further away, discussing about matters other than whatever their drivers were talking about. Pandoria beckoned to her froma distance, frantically waving her hand at her and whistling to her, but she shook her head at them and mouthed, “Just a moment.”
Mòrag instantly noticed the absence of the Tantalese prince—during any gathering, he would be either polishing his sword or making loud comment’s on their friends’ opinions. Today, though, he was nowhere to be found near them. She excused herself from her post beside Niall to take a breather at the balcony. As she made her way out, she heard Pandoria grumble about how she said she would be there in a moment but left for somewhere else, and she had to admit she felt a bit of guilt—but a moment of selfishness inclined her to take a break first before regrouping with them.
Pushing open the worn glass doors, she noticed a familiar figure standing at the edge of the balcony. The windows and railings were all rusted and covered in months of dust and grit from the nearby bombings of revolting people, the windows caked with rubble with nobody bothering to clean them—everyone was too busy minding their own safety in such a time.
Inching towards the edge, she could feel every muscle in her body tense up as she rolled through a hundred different things she should be saying or doing. She kept them all to herself, unsure whether the prince noticed her presence, so she stood beside him in silence.
Somehow—she was unsure when, but they were standing tremendously close to each other eventually, and she could feel the heat of the back of his hand against hers. She breathed heavily, gently prodding back with her own hand as to confirm her action permittable. The prince made no response, allowing his hand to fall limp at his side, though the way he brushed his hand back told her he had acknowledged her presence.
Out of nowhere, as if a million heartbeats later, she felt him flick his fingers, before successfully hooking his pinky onto hers. She sighed and shook his finger off, slipping her hand into his and intertwining their fingers. He continued to refuse to stare anywhere but forward, but she could hear the tiniest hissing intake of breath, and she considered herself the victor.
Mòrag narrowed her eyes against the wind at the young boy before her. He was about her age, and was quite the lively company during her stay at Gormott. She would have to leave in a day to return to Mor Ardain, resuming her classes as the young princess.
“What are you waiting for, come on!” the boy exclaimed, tugging at her hand and pulling her along as he ran to the top of a small hill just as the sun completely disappeared.
“I don’t understand, what exactly are we—” She objected, but he shushed her.
“You’ll see,” He told her, a note of confidence in his voice. He kept her hand tightly gripped within his as she almost gasped at the view ahead. It was the right moment where the stars in the sky catch the fiery light of the setting sun and plummeted into the cloud sea below, setting the night sky ablaze with its starry glow as they rained upon the area. She contained herself, but she could feel the same excitement buzzing around the prince as she watched the falling stars—a perfect end to her short stay on the lush green titan.
“Apologies, but I forgot to ask for your name—” She broke out of her mesmerized trance to ask, which he immediately responded before she could finish.
“Ozychlyrus. You?”
“Mòrag. I like your name.”
“I like yours too.”
Another loud bang sounded in the distance—the sound of another building erupting in flames. Right now, as she held his hand in silence, the rubble from the explosions were flying in frenzied directions, catching flame on their way and plummeting back down in a trail of scorching scarlet, the stones of pyre raining down ahead of them.
How bittersweet, she thought, a faint image of two young nobles with their hands entwined watching the raining stars under the night sky. She felt his grip on her hand tighten.
“My lady, they are requesting your presence—” Brighid burst out of the glass doors, breaking the moment of silence. She instantly cut herself off and nodded apologetically. Mòrag instantly yanked her hand back to herself and nodded courteously to Brighid.
“I shall go,” She assured her blade. As she was following Brighid back inside, she felt a tug on her arm.
“Mòrag—” Zeke began, finally speaking to her for the first time in years, but he seemed unable to find the words to continue his sentence.
“See you,” Mòrag said under her breath and gave him a deep bow before hurrying back to Brighid’s side, leaving the prince at the balcony, a slight pout on his face.
“I was going to let you finish your conversation with him,” Brighid shook her head, a hint of exasperation in her otherwise calm voice.
“I thought I was urgently needed,” Mòrag replied, making her way to where Rex was standing with a senator from Uraya.
Rex waved at Mòrag the moment she was within earshot. “Mòrag, what do you think of us creating a special division team where we track down small groups of the mess and keep watch for the bigger armies?”
The Urayan senator nodded. “Apologies, my lady. My name is Senator Byrne from Uraya,” She bowed politely to Mòrag. The nobles seemed to have forgotten most of their grudges before the world tree fell, now that the borders have mingled and they have one common enemy.
“So the same group as the one travelling to Elysium?” Mòrag queried. “Will we be enough to take on any scale of their troops?”
“We’ll be more like scouts,” Rex explained. “We don’t do much fighting unless needed, and we are there to be on the lookout and take out any strays.”
“Sounds good,” Mòrag replied. “But how will we be able to keep watch for troops of different countries when we are merely a small group? Will we not require a base of some sort?”
Senator Byrne nodded at her. “We were just about to discuss that, my lady. Rex here suggested that you make base in either Leftheria or Tantal, since those places are more isolated and are currently the least affected by the chaos.”
Mòrag raised a hand to her chin in thought. “If we make our base in an area that’s less affected, will we not be less effective in assisting the other troops?”
Byrne shook her head. “Most of our troops will move there as well. Tantal is by far the largest in size after the collapse, and there is plenty of distance between the war and their capital. We need a base of action, since attacking from other places will endanger our troops if we barge into the crossfire.”
“I see,” Mòrag nodded. “We shall get that arranged as soon as possible. By the way… Senator, which side of the war should we stand on, you suppose?” She pondered.
“Of course the side that defends the blades, my lady! The opposite party believes that humans rely too much on blades and ether and should advance in technology.”
Rex’s eyes gleamed with approval. “Yeah, besides, don’t forget what we saw in Elysium. The people were too greedy with their advancement in power and got wiped out.”
“You are correct, however… I cannot deny that drivers have been up to an uncountable number of misdeeds since we landed. I suppose the other side wanted everyone to be more civil, with the increasing times that we had to capture drivers that illegally sell core crystals and mass purchase them.” Mòrag said, the conflict apparent in her voice.
“But you can’t give up your blades, right?” Rex argued. “Even if there are people going against order, there are still a lot of people who have a good connection with their blades. Like our friends and you!”
Mòrag broke into a small smile. “I admire your will, Rex. That is why I chose to support you in the first place.”
“Right,” The Aegis driver looked a little flustered at the praise, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, his indignance dying down in an instant. “Let’s go back to the others. They’ve definitely got something to tell you.”
“Thank you, Senator,” Mòrag bowed politely to Senator Byrne, who returned the gesture, before following Rex to the chattering group at the corner with Brighid trailing closely behind them.
The moment she got there, Pandoria immediately scooted to the side and patted the empty spot on the floor next to her. “C’mere, Mòrag!” She beckoned, grinning.
“You know we can offer you chairs, right?” Her voice was exasperated, but the trace of fondness was there. “Do you lot always insist on being seated on the floor?” She sat down beside Pandoria anyway.
“Well, you’re obliging,” Nia pointed out. “Besides, it makes our conversations more fun, right?” She prodded Tora, who was dozing off next to her.
“What……? Yes, yes…..” He murmured sleepily.
A small beckon from somewhere nearby from Aegaeon brought Brighid to the blades discussion immediately. Rex took the empty spot on the left of Mòrag after all the blades were out of earshot, presumably talking about history and blade titan lore.
“Are you not a blade as well, Nia?” Mòrag asked, genuinely curious. “You are sitting with the drivers group.”
“They’re boring my ears off. All they ever talk about is titans and gossip on their drivers! Why didn’t you ask Pandoria? She’s here as well.”
Pandoria flicked her glasses solemnly. “I just can’t really understand all that formal blade talk, y’know? Besides, we got the best gossip here. It’s like a kids section!”
Mòrag shook her head. “I am not a child,” She muttered, holding in her amusement and failing miserably. “Though… how are you guys so unbothered by the situation?”
Rex shrugged. “We just learn to adapt and live with it. Before the titans merged, we lived a life of danger and fighting anyway.”
“Yeah, my life wasn’t exactly amazing back then either,” Nia agreed. “People are just gonna fight again for nothing. So we could just be like the old times. Fighting like a group of friends.”
“But the danger is higher now,” Mòrag stated. “It is great to be with you all once again, but we must stay vigilant in case any one of us falls in battle.”
There was a brief period of awkward silence, before Pandoria straightened herself and broke the silence. “So! Anyone’s seen the prince?” She asked.
Nia immediately broke out of the heavy atmosphere. “Oh, I saw him making for the balcony a while ago. What do you think he’s up to?”
Tora bounced up and down. “Tora think Zeke doing something illegal!” He suggested excitedly.
Rex shook his head at the nopon. “Don’t be silly, Tora. Zeke’s a prince now, he wouldn’t be doing anything out of bounds, unless he’s unlucky enough to accidentally do that.”
“Oooooh, you could be right…” Pandoria mused, adjusting her glasses in a professional manner. “Or he could’ve just fallen off the balcony. The latter is more likely.” She deduced.
Mòrag tensed at the statement. “That would be dangerous! There is currently a small scale dispute below here.” She blurted, before awkwardly lowering her voice back to normal. “Besides, why do you act so unbothered about your driver’s safety?”
Pandoria flashed her a coy grin leaning closer to Mòrag. “Why are you so worried about the prince?” She returned to her position satisfied when Mòrag’s eyes widened. “He’s fine, he gets into all kinds of messes but he always makes it out alive, so I guess I got used to it. Watch him come back later with like… an ear missing.”
Nia stretched her arms lazily. “Weren’t you also at the balcony just now, Mòrag? Did you see him falling off or something?”
“No, I did see him...” Mòrag began, before considering the dangers of revealing any bit of their exchange or what Zeke told her before they departed for their respective homes, so she trailed off, hoping they wouldn’t pry further.
To her dismay, Nia immediately propped herself upright with her elbows, her ears already pointing straight into the air attentively. “Ooh, what was he doing?” She let out a small purr, causing Mòrag to scrunch her face up in fear.
Pandoria joined in the buzz of excitement. “Was he trying to wait for a woman to be swept away on their feet again? I mean, loads of girls fawn over him, but he’s terrible at keeping them.” She paused, and something visually clicked in her. “Wait… was he waiting for you, Mòrag? What were you guys doing?”
To her further disappointment, even Rex and Tora were invested. “Yeah, I wanna know too,” Rex chimed in, she smug smile apparent on his face.
Mòrag wished she knew how to handle situations like this, though she still struggled at times to grasp the patterns of her friends, who seem to enjoy digging into every piece of information they got their hands on.
I held his hand, I suppose, She thought to herself, but every part of her consciousness knew she could not let them know yet, or they would make an even bigger ruckus.
“You WHAT?” Nia almost screamed, leaping to her feet.
“I… didn’t say anything!” Mòrag replied indignantly, swallowing down a lump in her throat and hoping she was not hallucinating.
Pandoria was laughing so hard she rolled backwards. “You did! You- you were whispering it out loud, Mòrag. How did you let it slip like that? Ooooohhhh, I’ve got such good intel!”
The rest of the group leaned towards each other and muttered something to each other that was inaudible to Mòrag, before returning to their own sitting positions.
“So,” Rex began formally. “When did you two…?”
“We are not an item.” Mòrag snapped, an unknown surge of irritation turning her voice into a snap. “We did not even speak, and we have not since we landed from Alrest. Even if we were, it’s none of your business.” Her voice was curt, but the memory of him abruptly cutting her off and the moment they shared watching the falling rubble awoke a feeling of ache in her that she had never experienced before, so her harsh tone ended softer than she had intended it to.
Pandoria’s smile faltered. “Wait… he hasn’t talked to you? He told me he’s been maintaining contact with Mor Ardain and convinced me relations were going well!”
“They were. He sent someone to contact our relation affairs general. Aside from that, he has not spoken to me for two years.”
“But he’s been personally contacting us!” Rex exclaimed. “All of us get regular updates from him personally, being the prodigal Tantalese prince and all.”
Pandoria made her deep-in-thought expression again. “The day we parted, he said he was gonna say something to you. I thought he was gonna confess or something.” She laughed nervously, the disbelief clear in her tone.
Mòrag shrugged. “I am sure he had his own struggles. It is not up to me to decide how he keeps his friends.” She merely stated.
Nia leaned in closer and stage-whispered, “Do you think Shellhead likes you?” She asked, the devious grin creeping back onto her face.
Rex, upon hearing her audible whisper, chimed in. “Yeah, you were looking at him funny when we were at that cave.”
Tora perked up at this. “Mòrag want to learn about the art of blushy-crushy? Poppi very good at demonstrating!”
The pink hue returned to Mòrag’s face. “Please. As the special inquisitor I cannot indulge in these luxuries you all insinuate I partake in. There cannot be anything between us and I do not wish to speak on it, alright?” She managed to say through gritted teeth, somewhat annoyed that she did not have a hat to go with her dress to hide her face.
“Okay, okay,” Pandoria waved, her lips drooping a little from disappointment, but being her usual self, she broke into a grin again. “Anyway, what’s our current plan, Rex?’
Rex seemed happy with the subject change as well. “Oh, we were just talking to Senator Byrne just now—we were deciding on either Tantal or Leftheria as our base of operations, but seeing as how Tantal got more land after the titans landing, we should probably use Tantal.”
“Tantal looks way better when it’s not covered in snow,” Nia shivered as if recalling the memory of trudging through the constant blizzards in Tantal. “Yeah, I mean, we don’t want to disturb your Aunt Corinne, right? If we get caught in the crossfire, they would likely to follow us there. It’s best we make base at Tantal.”
Pandoria wagged a finger at Nia. “Nooo, you’re mistaken. Tantal isn’t doing so good anymore. A few months back, the snowstorms started to return after too many bombs were set off in the border areas. I think it affected the atmosphere or something.”
Nia groaned. “Ugh, but I can’t stand being frozen half to death while also watching out for dangers!”
“That is the thing you decide to complain on the most?” Mòrag was clearly puzzled. “And I thought after the lands merged we could stop worrying about dying titans.” She sighed, wondering how Nia could be bothered over such tedious matters when their lives were at stake.
Pandoria lowered her head deep in thought for several moments before appearing to realise she missed a detail. “By the way, there’s an abandoned military base at the heart of Tantalese territory. We could use that as our base!” She suggested.
“That sounds wonderful,” Mòrag replied. “We should best inform our blades of this.”
“And Shellhead,” Nia added, holding back a snicker.
They disbanded their group shortly after, distributing whatever information they had to their blades and whoever was not in the conversation. Pandoria bounded off to the balcony to share what she knew with her driver, but not before flashing a toothy smile at Mòrag.
“You wanna come along to fetch the prince?” She offered, gesturing to the balcony doors.
Mòrag shook her head. “Not now, perhaps.” She responded quietly, before returning to Niall’s side, watching over the guests as the party slowly came to an end and the nobles were all escorted back to their jets to return to their homes.
Niall looked at his sister sideways. “I’ve sent someone to send letters to everyone who attended and also the other leaders to inform them of what you discussed,” he informed her.
“Thank you, your majesty—Niall.” She abruptly corrected herself when her brother’s smile morphed into a pout at her formal use of his title. The edges of his mouth instantly curved back up when she called him by his name—Mòrag couldn’t help but smile as well herself at her brother’s adorable act.
“That’s the right title, sis.” Niall’s grin was smug—as if relishing his sister’s affection. “Anyway, we must make sure all civilians that are not involved in the war will be safe and transported to somewhere close to our military bases. I know that not all of the people are at war with each other, even if most of them have already chosen their sides.”
“War never changes, does it?” Mòrag asked nobody in particular, sitting down besides Niall on the staircase as he plopped down comfortably. “People will always find a reason to initiate fights.”
“You could say it’s their nature,” Niall said. “But you guys had to fight to train as well, no? You’ve fought wild animals and beasts in order to get stronger to take on bigger enemies.”
“But it was because those said enemies attacked us first. Well—they were going for Pyra and Mythra, but we had to help them. It seems as if we cannot possibly live without fighting for our lives.”
“At the same time, you cannot blame either side of them,” Niall voiced out her exact thoughts and a knowing grin crossed his face. “They all have their valid reasons to defend their ideals, but their natural instinct is to battle over it, which snowballed into a war that cannot turn back.”
Mòrag blinked at her brother’s wisdom. He was merely 16 at the time, and yet he knew exactly what she thought, while understanding the people of Alrest perfectly. “Niall, do you think there is a peaceful solution to this war?” She questioned.
“I do not know, sister. It seems both sides are extremely determined to prove the other wrong.”
“I just do not want to hurt people who are merely standing for their own ideals,” Mòrag’s hand flew to her head in frustration. “They were only civilians, and as a leader we must learn to stop them without force!”
“Sometimes we cannot,” Niall sighed, leaning backwards until he was lying flat on the lifted floor. “Maybe the war will die out, maybe it won’t. But what we can do is to alleviate it as much as possible.”
“How?”
“We can try talking to the leaders of different divisions,” There was a gleam in Niall’s eye that signaled he had a plan. “If convincing them is futile, then we will have to either pick a side and intimidate the opposing one to surrender, or we, with our countries’ combined military prowess, scare them into backing down and start from there.” He sighed again. “But we will have to figure that out on the way.”
“For a teenager, you hold more wisdom than most of the senators in court,” Mòrag lay down besides her brother. “You are certainly not deserving of the time you were born in.”
“Ah, but if I were born in peaceful times, what problems would I have to resolve?” He beamed at his sister, the wisdom flashing in his eye far exceeding his age.