BlueShear
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Chapter 65
🕑 Added 2024-10-22 22:00:10 +0000 UTCSitting stiff and ramrod straight, completely oblivious to the soft embrace of tufted velvet upholstery—one of the very few seated accommodations present within the cool, well lit, and even finer appointed rooms of the Interior Minister’s office—Meredith just couldn’t seem to help the cold sweat which was, even now, heavily beading her brow.
In her defense, it wasn’t an uncommon reaction. After all, sitting directly across from her, behind her large mahogany desk with its stacks of important looking papers, was the Interior Minister herself. A woman for whom only a select few people, and most of them family, would be so brazen as to refer to as Meredith’s sister-in-law.
And even then, only in the strictest of confidence. Seeing as it wasn’t a title the woman appeared to be particularly fond of, on the whole.
A sentiment that could be keenly felt within the increasingly stuffy confines of the room. As it was, Meredith had been made to stew in the awkward silence for what’d felt like an eternity, the only sounds to break up the tense hush, the measured scritch of the Minister’s quill against parchment.
Eventually though, even that much was reclaimed by silence. In the end, leaving her with the blossoming hope that her purgatory might finally be at an end. With quick, decisive movements, the Interior Minister first blotted the ink from the quill, then the parchment itself. Set the document aside, carefully resealed the inkwell, and only then did she deign to acknowledge her sister-in-law.
“And?” the woman replied tiredly, leaving Meredith to scramble for the beginning threads of their conversation.
“And… s-so! Surely you must see the value of such a unique and powerful acquisition?”
“Is that right?”
“I… umm. Yes…?”
The Interior Minister let out a deep sigh.
“Is that all, Meredith?”
“Ah…? Yes… but-! Wait!” already she could see the unspoken dismissal in the woman’s expression. “You’re not even the least bit interested? I’ll have you know I’ve been assured by several experts, on several occasions, that this rift spawn has to be at the peak- no, among the lower rungs of C grade! At least!”
“Closer to high C grade, actually.”
“I… hold on, what? Wait…?” Meredith scrutinized the woman’s expression and was shocked by what she saw. “You-? You already knew…? But, since when? How?!”
“Since about a week ago, when a report arrived on my desk concerning a uniquely humanoid looking rift spawn familiar capable of coherent speech and an incident which occurred during the Knightly Academy’s annual entrance exams. I’m told that this rift spawn of yours made something of an impression on the Provost and her Director’s. Defeated multiple peak D to lower C grade rift spawn single handedly, or so I’m led to believe.”
Meredith gaped at the description, unable to picture that insufferable welp managing to pull off something so monstrous. Even still, opportunist that she was, she immediately recognized that this only served to better strengthen her argument.
“Even better! If you’re already aware of its strength, then you cannot deny that this rift spawn would make for a prize worthy of our highness, the beloved princess!”
The Interior Minister merely stared at Meredith for a time, as if studying an especially dim-witted insect.
“If you’ve simply come here to beg more money from me, I’m afraid you’ve only succeeded in wasting your own time, as well as a great deal of mine. I really shouldn’t have to say this, but…” another sigh. “Any fool should know intrinsically that a C Grade familiar, no matter how unusual, is not a “prize” befitting a princess of the realm, no matter how one contorts themselves to look at it. Were you aware that even her highnesses ladies-in-waiting own exclusively B grade rift spawn and above?”
Meredith blanched. As it so happened, she had not.
“And that’s not even considering her honor guard, who exclusively average at around peak A grade. And you would, what? Have me insult the crown by offering her highness anything less than a girl whose only real charge is to wax poetic whilst in her presence already possesses?”
Meredith opened her mouth to say something, but no words were forthcoming.
“And even if none of that were the case, I believe I mentioned earlier that this rift spawn of yours entered the Academy’s entrance exam? Meaning that, at the very least, it has already been bonded. To a girl sponsored by a Knightly Commander of all things. That, in addition to her stellar combat assessment score, enough to easily place her on an accelerated learning track within the halls of the academy. I don’t think I need to explain to you why more than a few would ask questions were she to suddenly go missing.”
“Not something that’s stopped you before, surely,” her mouth was moving without her say so at this point.
“Perhaps, though, again, I must ask to what end?”
Meredith, caught off guard by the question, fumbled for a neat and convincing rebuttal, while the woman actually gave her time to come up with an answer. And then it hit her.
“Because it didn’t start out that way.”
The other woman raised an eyebrow. Meredith took that as her cue to keep talking.
“I’d thought it was strange, hearing that rift spawn classified as higher C grade. Especially when the rift spawn I was initially introduced to simply couldn’t have defeated a single C grade demon, let alone multiple.”
“And your point is…?”
That it improved somehow. Rose through the ranks. Evolved!”
“Impossible. Rift spawn are stagnant creatures. There is no such thing as evolution where rift spawn are concerned—leastwise in so short a timespan.”
“And normally, I would agree with you, had I not seen it for myself. Would you believe me if I said that I personally witnessed this supposed C grade struggle with an uncoordinated pack of F grade goblins?”
“No.”
“Well, I did. And by the end of the day, not only had he massacred that pack of goblins, but he was easily dismembering rift spawn of the lower D grade and above like it was nothing. I see this new assessment of its capabilities as a continuation of that evolving process I witnessed at that time.”
The Interior Minister paused at this, measuring the validity of her words.
“And you’re sure about this?”
“Absolutely!” Meredith lied.
“Hmm…”
The woman frowned, before picking up her quill and beginning to write.
“I’ll look into this for now. If what you say is indeed true… this could be…”
Meredith’s heart began to race. Had she done it? She needed to make sure. Secure some basic assurances.
“And what of the girl?”
“What about her?”
“What should be done about her in the event you realize I’m telling the truth?”
The Interior Minister paused.
“Okay. In the off chance something so unlikely as that actually comes to pass, what would you suggest?”
“Well…” Meredith thought about it for a second. “Like you said, to harm her outright would be… messy. Too messy. Although… that isn’t to say that, should the girl impress, prove herself singularly exceptional…? Could her curriculum not be further accelerated? Fast tracked all the way to the frontier, even? After all, is it not a failing of the schooling system to have untapped potential like hers simply whiling away their days? Up to her neck in dusty old tomes and boring lectures, when she could be out there fighting rift spawn! Really making a difference!”
“And should some random accident befall her in the performance of her duties…”
“A tragedy! A travesty! Although… it has to be said, not an overtly suspicious one, all things considered. Not an outcome anyone would look twice at, anyhow.”
“And the binding stone?”
“Things have this funny way of disappearing on battlefields, or so I’m told. Really, at the end of the day, whose to say where it went?”
“That’s just… diabolical,” and for the first time ever, Meredith thought the woman looked genuinely impressed.
***
When word came back to the squire’s dormitory that she was effectively being sent to the front lines, Eleanor had been met with one of three reactions. Jealousy, incredulousness, and indignation. Mary had, unsurprisingly, been incandescent. Nearly apoplectic with rage.
Having learned of her rank and tragic backstory during her months’ stay at the academy, she now knew that her sponsor had considerable pull within the cohorts.
The sheet-white look of terror on the headmaster's face when confronted with Mary’s colorful tirade was proof enough of that.
With the rank of Knightly Commander, only one of six to currently hold the title, the battered and broken woman she’d once helped out of a sense of civic duty, had in fact been the leader of an elite team of knights. Knights who’d been lost to a woman past enemy lines, not two months prior to their meeting.
In the end, despite her sponsor’s many protests and attempts to appeal, the order of enlistment went through unimpeded.
And so it was that, much to Jun’s, and if she were honest, her own personal delight, they would arrive at the Queendom’s easternmost borders in two and a half weeks time. And for the first time in her life, Eleanor would set her eyes upon the fabled Azure Wall, Last Bastion of Humanity.
***
The frontier outpost of Evelin’s Glory was, at first glance, a chaotic sprawl of identical tents, in-use training grounds, and a vast host of military personnel with more places to be than they had time to be there. And looming over it all was one of the three great wonders of the world—a wall that sought to split the very heavens in two. So tall and so close, that, even straining her neck back as far as it would go, she couldn’t seem to see an end to it.
Made exclusively out of soul fire brick, a semi translucent building material formed through the lone application of soul fire, it was an unnatural, almost ethereal looking structure, glass smooth and completely devoid of mortar—only a pulsing inner light where mortar should’ve been.
All coming together to form a truly imposing rampart that might’ve been too large for a race of giants to reasonably navigate. Rumored to be a quarter as thick as it was tall—though Eleanor honestly had a hard time believing that—it was supposedly equipped with a wide promenade on top, strategically placed watchtowers, and reinforced gates which rarely saw use.
The problem wasn’t getting to the other side, so much as it was preventing the other side from getting to them, after all.
Currently she, and nineteen other girls—well, women really, seeing as Eleanor was the youngest recruit present by at least four years—were standing at attention before their newly appointed sergeant.
A tall, broad, scar faced woman with forearms the size of Eleanor’s thighs, and a voice like a foghorn—so loud on that chilly, mist shrouded morning that Eleanor would’ve wagered it capable of waking the dead. She’d just finished dressing down a now trembling private for having had her top button unbuttoned, when at last she stalked over to stand before Eleanor.
For long moments the woman scrutinized, the feel of her sour breath huffing and puffing directly into Eleanor’s face bringing to mind thoughts of a boar readying itself to charge, or a dragon slowly preparing its flame. She didn’t let it distract her. Standing at attention as she’d been taught, eyes facing forward and back ramrod straight.
“Think yourself better than these other recruits, do you private!? Just cause your mommy pulled some strings for you in the capital, you think you’re better than these recruits who earned their place in line?”
“No ma’am! Sergeant, ma’am!”
“That’s sergeant to y-!” the woman cut off with a grunt, choking on her words.
Red faced and scowling, she seemed to redouble her efforts to rupture every eardrum in the near vicinity.
“Fancy yourself a smart ass do you private!?”
“No ma’am! Sergeant, ma’am!”
The sergeant seemed to grind her teeth at this response. Through her periphery, she could see the sergeant’s eyes flicker over her, looking for something more to criticize.
Eleanor kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, breathing deliberate and even. Eventually the woman snorted, and, without another word exchanged, turned to berate the next girl in line. Eleanor would’ve sighed in relief, had she not already seen just how well that went for the last girl. Instead, she maintained her posture until told to do otherwise, and that was more or less how the rest of the day went.
Until, that was, there came a break in the monotony in the form of a mounted officer.
“Listen up you bleeding mongrels! This here is your new lieutenant! Who might as well be the bleeding queen herself, far as you sorry lot are concerned. When the lieutenant speaks, you listen! And if, for whatever reason, you fail to heed that instruction you’ll be damn well hearing from me, and the whole of the disciplinary board besides! Am I understood!?”
“Yes ma’am! Sergeant, ma’am!” came the chorus of trained replies.
There came a chuckle from the mounted officer—the suns glare and the brim of her hat hiding her features from view.
“What a wonderful introduction. Thank you, sergeant.”
“Don’t mention it ma’am!”
The officer visibly flinched at the woman’s volume.
“Y-yes, well, I suppose I should properly introduce myself then, shouldn’t I? I go by Lieutenant Carver now, Meredith Carver in truth, though you all, naturally, may call me Lieutenant. Know that I intend to make the most of my commission, so do feel free to contact me if you should deem the need paramount. My doors are always open.”
And with a spine numbing chill so strong it nearly made her shudder, Eleanor could’ve sworn those last words were directed solely at her. Shaking off the feeling as utterly ridiculous, she might not have been so quick to dismiss, had she seen the expression on her bonded familiar’s face.
Standing just behind her, in a voice too low for even her own ears to pick up, Jun muttered something obscene under his breath.
“…well shit.”
