Reborn From the Cosmos
Arc 8-53

“What the–ha! Is that you, Blood?”

The March of Quest is nearing its end but some have already finished their roles. Despite her impressive display at the refugee camp, I remain steadfast in my decision to send Yulia home. Rather, Alana remains steadfast and I won’t budge on supporting her. It’s time for the snow bunny to return to the land of winter. 

Honestly, I think they need her. Her ambition and her abilities are real. I don’t know about stopping a tradition that’s persisted for five centuries through countless bloodshed, but if anyone can brighten that bleary fort, it's the determined noblewoman. For all the children of the north, I hope she succeeds.

The knights of the north followed my orders. We return to find their carriages arranged at the front of the estate, Bell making an adorable sight as she toddles forward carrying crates ten times her size, handling them off to the Stars. Their dull chestplates and utilitarian helmets aren’t as impressive as the shiny royal knights but they have an undeniable presence when moving with purpose. I think they’re excited to be going home. The devastated fort can use all the helping hands it can get from what I hear.

Their movements are full of suppressed urgency and purpose. That’s why the excited greeting catches me off guard. One of the knights puts down her burden without thought and runs over to us. Miss Alyssa doesn’t return the feeling, grimacing as she watches the approaching knight.

“I hate that name,” she grumbles. “It’s stupid.”

Her dissatisfaction doesn’t stop the knight from pulling her into a hug and, despite her grumpiness, she doesn’t fight the affection.

“What’s it been?” the Star asks while dropping Miss Alyssa. “A decade?’

“Something like that.”

“Huh? What’s the matter? Not thrilled to see me? Ah, wait. You probably don’t recognize me.” Despite the stated unfamiliarity, the knight throws an armored arm over Miss Alyssa’s shoulders, keeping her close. “You never hung around the baths for too long, haha.”

“That’s because you animals did very little bathing. Or talking.”

“Bah! There were plenty of tubs dedicated to just relaxing.” The knight turns to us and I have the distinct impression that she’s grinning under her helmet.  “Blood’s always been shy.”

The expected fire blooms between them, the Star dancing away with a laugh as it licks at her breastplate. Glowing green eyes glare at the knight as Miss Alyssa raises a palm full of flames. “You’re right,” she says in a droll voice. “I’m so shy, I can’t live with this embarrassment. You’ll have to die for me to keep going.”

“Hey, that’s our Blood all right. I’d love to play with you again, but we’ve got to get going. You could come with. Once a Star, always a Star.”

The glow fades from Miss Alyssa’s eyes as she sighs, her aggression waning. “You know I can’t,” she says softly.

“Winter won’t be here for a while. Just because you’ve got an unpopular belief doesn’t mean you’re not welcome.” The knight waves as she jogs off, snatching up the crate she abandoned and putting it on the back of a carriage.

“I should check on Allen,” Yulia says. She smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Will you see us off?”

“Of course,” I answer, speaking over Alana’s conflicted feelings that she tries to hide with a blank expression. She could learn a few things from Dame Elodie.

Some of the sadness in her gaze fades as she jogs off.

“I’ll be going too, if you have no need for me, my lady,” Gajin says.

“Ah, sure.” Hm. Does he look a little…oh, I see. He’s probably disappointed he didn’t get to do anything besides standing around when there were magical plants about. I’ll have to ask Kierra to make it up to him. “Come on,” I say to our guest. “Have you eaten today? We can go over the house rules before we send them off.”

Yulia and the servants peel off as we reach the front door. The rest of us move to the dining room. Within a few minutes, Earl, ever dependable, serves us all small salads, bowls of fruit, and juice, but leaves a tray with a bottle of Herbanacle and glasses in close reach. Miss Alyssa just stares at the food before shaking her head.

“Where’d you get this?” she asks with a note of resignation as she picks up a fork. She spears some of the greens and takes a large bite, her eyes slipping shut. “Ancestors, they’re fresh.”

“Of course they are. I wouldn’t be surprised if Earl picked them right before dropping them in the bowl. There are three masters of the physical affinity here. We have no problem growing food.”

“That’s been made abundantly clear.” She eats a slice of fruit and puts a hand over her eyes as she chews. “Do you even understand how ridiculous this is? People have tried to grow food with magic like what that elf did. It’s one of the most hotly pursued goals of the north, dammit. While it can be done, the food is always tasteless and the people eating it get sick. But this? This tastes better than good. That shouldn’t be possible.”

A soft scoff draws Miss Alyssa’s attention to my elf. Kierra looks at her with mild condescension. “It is not a technique reserved for masters, merely the learned. If your casters cannot grow food, then it is because they do not understand how food is grown. Perhaps they should study under the tutelage of farmers who accomplish the same task without a drop of mana.”

The instructor scowls. “You think they haven’t? Maybe not in the north but in the Hall, the main ones who try their hands at it are people that come from farm work who want a way to do it easier.”

“Just because they have worked the land, does not mean they understand it. Have they dedicated their lives to raising plants? Do they know every element that goes into a harvest? Do they know every part of a plant? It takes both scholarly insights and the experience to apply those concepts to the natural world to even begin to craft the proper spell.”

The redhead’s scowl becomes a thoughtful expression. “...you might have a point. It seems like something obvious, so obvious it should have already been done, but when I think about it, I can’t imagine a master caster listening to a farmer telling him how to craft his spell. Saints, I doubt any masters have attempted it at all. Those that reach that level are usually more focused on themselves.”

She sighs as she turns to me. “And while that’s interesting, that’s not why I’m here. Are you serious about helping the camp?”

“I wouldn’t have said I would if I wasn’t,” I reply, trying not to let my exasperation slip into my tone. Really, have I given her any reason to question my good intentions like this? Ah, I guess I have. Though it feels a bit unfair. I’ve shown myself to be vengeful, not deceitful.

“You could have stepped in anytime before now.”

“Truthfully? I didn’t think I would have to. The largest collection of accomplished casters are floating over our heads. They’re led by a man given the title Harvest Hero. They could have stepped in anytime.”

She sighs, deeper this time. “Dunwayne doesn’t lead the Hall. Maybe at one time, he had the authority to order people around but these days, he’s a manager. Most things are settled by majority vote by the senior instructors and they want nothing to do with this mess. Not in a small part because they don’t want to fight the giant, magically and physically resistant beast that decimated the city.”

I huff as she glares at me. “You can’t blame everything on me. They could have sent someone to negotiate or whatever. That’s an excuse and you know it.”

“Damn right it is but it’s a good one. Cowards, all of them. Most of the masters are a bunch of old bastards who can’t be bothered to step outside their houses and slick bastards who want power but are too afraid to use it.” She clicks her tongue as she reaches for the shroom juice and a glass. “So? What kind of help are you offering and what do you want for it?”

That’s a good question. I take my time to answer it and the redhead leaves me to my thoughts, indulging despite the early hour.

I know that I want to ensure the people recover. I don’t care if they know it was me, rather it’d probably be best if they don’t, but I don’t want the guilds to be involved, nor the crown. Starting to wonder about the Hall too, which is a shame. That doesn’t leave a lot of choices when it comes to intermediaries. Sigh. If Yulia wasn’t leaving, she’d be the perfect candidate. Maybe Alana? When people talk about the destruction of the city, they always talk about the noblewoman with purple eyes and the green elf. She went unnoticed in the chaos, likely because she was far from the center of the fighting.

As for the help I want to provide, food is definitely at the top of the list; nothing else matters if the people are starving. I didn’t hear anything about water and the tiny plague Geneva started seems to be dying out, just as she promised. Shelter should be left in their hands. While I don’t doubt the succubi could plan a city, that feels like crossing a line. 

I suppose all that leaves is safety. Mm, that’s a good point. I’m sure the hunters can handle any stray beasts roaming the ruins but repairing the wall is sure to be time-intensive and expensive. It isn’t necessary these days but I suppose Bell can fill in any gaps on our way out.

“We’ll grow the food here at the estate, transport it to the camp, and hand it over to you.”

Miss Alyssa pauses while raising her glass. “To me or to the camp?”

“To you. And I expect you to tell me if someone tries to take it from you or pass it out on your behalf.”

“Good. Now, how much food?”

I turn to Kierra. “Can you double what that field was producing in, oh, a month?”

She grins. “Easily.”

“Then that much, but not for long. We’re not staying. Once I’m reasonably sure that no one is going to starve and the hunters aren’t going to ruin things for everyone else, we’re leaving.”

The redhead smiles. Does she have a shred of manners? It’s not polite to look so relieved when someone says they’re going away. “Where will you go? The north will welcome you with open arms after such a performance. Ancestors, you might have set a record for blood spilled to satisfy a March.”

I wince. Not the kind of thing one wants to be remembered for. “No. I was thinking the coast.”

“Sleepy Harbor? It’s a rich city, for sure and I hear the Guiness like you.”

“The other coast.”

“...you want to mingle with pirates?” Her face scrunches up before she throws back her aborted drink. “No, that actually makes sense. You’re the right kind of crazy to enjoy that place. And if you’re not, wiping it off the map will actually be doing the kingdom a favor.”