Chapter 2
“Nico.” Eli rapped insistently at the door. “Nico, are you awake?”
An extended groan of despair floated out of the room.
“I guess so,” Eli said, and let herself in.
Nico’s room was small but well lived in, decorated with trophies and little tokens her siblings liked to sneak in. She’d clawed her way up from nondescript foot soldier to self-descript knight of the Royal Guard in the years since she’d won her first tournament and demanded a position in the Guard as her reward. Denied, of course, but Nico always got her way in the end, no matter how hard she had to work for it. Quite the jump in station for the daughter of a maid.
Eli could think of few others who had as many embarrassing childhood stories of Eli - and few others who she trusted more.
The knight in question made another pathetic whine as she stuck one arm out of her blanket pile, flopping it in protest at Eli. “It’s not even dawn,” grumbled Nico. “Eli, why?”
“Change of plans. Come on, Nico, get up. We need to talk.”
One more moment of reluctant squirming later, Nico heaved a long-suffering sigh and wormed her way out of the blankets. “Well? What were you thinking about all night?” she said as she settled cross-legged on her bed. Despite her sour tone and her world-weary airs, her eyes were sharp and alert. Nico wasn’t the premier knight of the realm and Eli’s closest ally for nothing.
No point beating around the bush. “You’re not going to come with me,” blurted Eli.
Nico’s eyes narrowed.
In a blink, she was on her feet, head tilted up to glare at Eli. “What do you mean I’m not coming with you?” she said, low and dangerous.
It took every scrap of Eli’s willpower not to flinch back from her. Eli did her best to channel her grandmother’s most severe, obey-me look. “Exactly that,” she said. “And I’m not taking any of the other knights either. I’ll leave by myself today, and- “
“Damn it, Eli!” Nico threw her arms up in the air and started pacing. “You can’t just do that! Travelling with just one guard is one thing, travelling alone is another. You’re too important to just do whatever you want!”
Before Nico properly worked herself up, Eli interrupted. “First of all, I’m not going to be travelling by myself. Second of all, I’m going to go in disguise. I’ll just be one more traveller. And third of all, I need you to do something else for me.”
Nico came to a stop in front of Eli and crossed her arms. “What?” she said suspiciously.
Now this was the hard part.
Eli cleared her throat and pushed Nico’s door open a little wider. In walked Kotori, wings carefully tucked away under Eli’s cloak. It looked a little like she was wearing a pack under it. Her hair was still ruffled from their struggle to hide the wings.
Kotori bobbed her head in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Nico,” she said with an anxious smile.”
Nico stared. “What in the- “
“Her name is Kotori,” Eli rushed to cut Nico off before she said something blasphemous. “Nico, I need you to fit out a packhorse with gear for just the two of us, then take it and Kotori outside the city walls. Wait for me at the old mill. I’ll catch up once I’m done with the ceremony here. After we leave, you can… go back to the city, or use some of your holiday leave, I don’t mind. But don’t tell anyone about Kotori, and don’t let anyone see her.”
“…Who is she?” Nico peered at Kotori, as if her place of origin was coded in the nervous hunch of her shoulders. “And what’s with all the cloak and dagger? It’s not like you, you know. And it’s not my usual line of work either.”
“I can’t say,” Eli said honestly. “But you’re the only one I can trust with this, Nico.”
That was what they’d agreed on. Though she never said it outright, Kotori seemed uncomfortable with travelling in a large group, or being publicly recognised as a divine messenger.
Eli had agreed for her own reasons. Namely: how would the people react? Best-case scenario, they hailed the herald of the true ruler, which would be a hassle to try and travel in. Worst-case scenario, they lashed out against Kotori for abandoning them. That was a topic Eli hadn’t tried to broach yet - but the secrets of gods were surely heavier than those of mortals.
And if, just in case, they couldn’t find the ruler after letting Kotori’s presence be known everywhere… Eli shuddered at the thought.
So it would be just the two of them.
“Treat her with all the courtesy you would treat my family with. …Actually,” Eli amended as Nico opened her mouth, sarcasm practically rolling off her, “please, please treat her better than you’d treat me.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
“I mean it, Nico. This is… really, really important.”
Nico rolled her eyes. “Only the greatest Knight Nico will do, I guess,” she sighed. But she thumped her fist to her heart, saluting Eli; and Eli knew there was no one whose loyalty she could rely on more.
“Thank you,” Eli said, a long breath of relief drawing out the last syllable. Nico’s self-assured grin never failed to ease some of her fears. (Even if, other times, it added more fear.)
“Alright then,” Nico said, clapping her hands briskly. “I’ve got work to do, and you’ve got your fancy ceremony, so shoo. No, not you - “ addressed to Kotori, who made to follow her sole human contact so far; Kotori jumped. “ - you stay. Brought any luggage with you?”
“Um, no…”
“Courtesy, Nico.”
“Yeah, yeah. Ugh, looks like I need to find you some decent travelling clothes too, then… good thing you’re short, it’s easier to hem than it is to add length…”
If the heavens sent down droughts as retribution for the disrespect, Eli would personally sacrifice Nico at the altar as an offering, outlawed dark rituals be damned.
As she turned to close Nico’s door on the way out, Eli paused as Nico called, “Oh, and Eli?”
“Hm?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Eli did, too.
The send-off was quiet and informal, just as Eli had wanted. Just Alisa, her grandmother, and a few of the closer castle staff. The latter fussed over Eli, adjusting her clothes just so, triple-checking her weapons before handing them to her. The royal baker pressed biscuits secretively into her hands.
“Just if you get homesick, ma’am,” she whispered with a kind smile. “And if you see Honoka, won’t you remind her to let poor Umi rest?”
In the presence of others, Alisa kept her own tears back, but her farewell hug pressed wrinkles into Eli’s clothes. “Come back soon, Eli,” she said shakily into Eli’s shoulder. “Be careful.”
Eli didn’t trust her voice not to quiver. She made a small sound of agreement and rested her cheek on Alisa’s soft hair, silvery in the dawn light. It would only make it worse if Eli told them now it would be the most meticulous search any Seneschal had conducted in centuries.
Well into her twilight years, the Lady Seneschal nevertheless cut an imposing figure. She stood as straight as if the cane in her hand was but a useless accessory. Grey-white hair wreathed her face, but her eyes were sharp as clear-cut ice. Stepping out of retirement and back into the role of Seneschal was as easy as breathing to her.
And yet, when Eli looked at her, all she could see was her beloved grandmother: who had sat beside Eli in the dark until she fell asleep, at whose knee Eli had recited her family history with all the graveness of a five year old, who had showed Eli how to weave flower crowns and make toffees for Alisa…
Eli’s grandmother was smiling at her now. Without another word, she opened her arms, and Eli stepped forward into her tight embrace.
“Remember, Elichka,” Eli’s grandmother murmured, too soft for anyone but Eli to hear. “This is your journey and yours alone. Savour it. Take your time. We’ll be here.”
It was Eli’s turn to close her eyes against their burning. She mustn’t cry, she mustn’t cry - “I’ll do my best,” she swore. Eli’s grandmother shook with quiet chuckles.
“If you try any harder, I’m afraid there won’t be anything left of you.” With a shared sigh, they pulled apart. Eli’s grandmother laid one wrinkled hand along Eli’s cheek, looking at her fondly. “My beautiful girl… I look forward to seeing the woman who returns.”
Wordless, Eli nodded, dashing her hand across her eyes. Eli’s grandmother patted her comfortingly. Then her soft smile turned sly, and she added, “That includes your companions, Elichka. You seemed to have an eventful night.”
Wait. Did she -
Before Eli could unstick her tongue, Eli’s grandmother was gone, sweeping imperiously over the threshold into the castle.
Eli wasn’t allowed back in until she declared her journey over.
Damn.
Oblivious, Alisa gave Eli one more hug before tearing herself away, following their grandmother. She had her own duties to attend to as the new heir. Eli watched the distance between her and her family widen; the stretch of their bonds weighed on her as heavily as her duty did. When they were gone, she sighed and shouldered her pack more comfortably.
Just one more detour to make.
Lady Seneschal Natalya’s tombstone was pristine; the caretaker, though getting on in years, tended every grave diligently. The grave beside it was empty. No prayers here would reach Jin Ayase. Still, Eli brushed her thumb over the proud letters to make sure they were clean.
“I’m leaving now, mother,” she said quietly. “Wish me luck, father. I’ll do us proud.”
Then she was off.
At dawn, most of the city was still asleep; the earliest risers, sleep still smeared in their eyes, only nodded at Eli as she passed by alone. She nodded back from under her hood. No one would expect the Heir of the Seneschal to be dressed in plain travel leathers and on foot, but it didn’t hurt to be safe.
It didn’t take long for Eli to pass out of the city gates. She left the main road immediately, heading left towards the agreed meeting spot, following the faint tracks of foot- and hoof-prints in the soft turf.
As agreed, Nico was waiting in front of the run-down mill, running through a set of sword drills. The packhorse nosed its way along the riverbank peacefully. Eli sped up until she was within earshot; Nico looked up.
“Where’s - “
“Up there,” Nico said, flicking her sword-tip at the mill. “Said she wanted to see what the weather’s like. You sure found a strange one, Eli. She didn’t know what size clothes she was, and she said she didn’t want to change until you got here, either.” An eyebrow waggle.
Eli flushed. “It’s nothing like that. I just met her.”
“Whatever. She kept asking me questions the whole way, too. And to top it all off, the horse doesn’t like her.”
Eli laughed nervously, thinking of Kotori’s wings, painstakingly tucked away. The horse was probably wise to be wary.
Nico sheathed her sword and clapped Eli hard on the shoulder. “Well, she’s all yours now,” Nico said wryly. “Good luck. And stay safe. It would suck if you died to bandits or food poisoning or something.”
“You’re not the only knight here, you know,” Eli said, trying and failing to keep the pout out of her voice.
Nico puffed out her chest and her cheeks indignantly. “Please, like you’ve ever beaten me in a fight. Like anyone’s ever beaten me in a fight.”
Rather than say anything that might inflate Nico’s ego even more, Eli sighed and took the proffered hug. After a few seconds, Nico squirmed, and Eli let her go reluctantly.
“Enjoy your holiday,” Eli said with an affectionate pat to Nico’s head. Nico glared.
“Enjoy yours,” she shot back.
A quick and informal goodbye, minimal fuss. Classic Nico. Eli watched her saunter away, hand resting loosely on her sword hilt; she rounded the bend around a copse of trees - was gone.
Which left Eli alone with a divine messenger doing who-knows-what in a rundown mill.
The packhorse looked up as she approached; its big liquid eyes watched Eli with mild curiosity. Eli patted it on the neck. “Nice to meet you,” she said to the velvet nose stretched towards her.
The packhorse replied with a whuff of grassy horse-breath. Greetings done, it returned to its patch of grass, barely flicking an ear as Eli rummaged through its load.
Armed with an armful of clothes that were hopefully Kotori’s size, Eli scaled the steps of the watermill, making plenty of noise to warn Kotori of her approach.
“Eli?” Kotori’s voice floated down the narrow stairwell.
“Yes, it’s me.” Eli had something else prepared to say - something about their route, perhaps - but what she saw left her speechless.
Kotori sat in front of the windmill’s small window, wings free and spread to their utmost, nearly twice Eli’s arm span. Behind her, Eli’s cloak lay folded neatly in a square. The light streaming through the window lit up the white feathers, luminescent as a full moon.
Kotori turned to face Eli, wings shrinking back down to fold against her back. The change was too big; it had to be at least part magic, or some godly trick. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “It was just… well, a little cramped. I’m not used to keeping them so small. And once they were out, I couldn’t get them back in.”
“Oh,” said Eli, barely registering the words. The play of morning light over Kotori’s pale skin and pale feathers was mesmerising; and the odd gold glint of her eyes was brighter now night had passed.
With a start, Eli realised she was staring - and Kotori was staring straight back too, head tilted in curiosity. “I-I brought you clothes,” Eli managed, holding out her bundle. Be calm, be collected… “From the horse. I heard the horse doesn’t like you.”
“Unfortunately” sighed Kotori, taking the clothes from Eli. Their fingers brushed. Eli nearly flinched, but hid it before Kotori could notice; she was expecting… something… from touching a being from the heavens. But Kotori’s hand felt just like a human’s, slightly cool in the morning chill.
As Eli turned her back to wait for Kotori to change, Kotori mournfully recounted her encounter with the horse. “It was the first time I’ve seen an animal, not just heard about it. He was much bigger than I thought! I wanted to touch him, but he rolled his eyes at me. Nico made me walk on the other side of her; she said - um. Eli?”
Eli resisted the urge to turn around and check. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can wear this…”
“Why?” Eli said instantly, imagining a hundred reasons why it would be inappropriate to make a divine messenger dress in no-doubt inferior clothes. The journey had barely started, and she’d already made a mistake, hadn’t prepared well enough -
“I can’t fit my wings in.”
Then again, nobody could possibly prepare for a journey like this.