The girl's head hadn't stayed in one place since she'd stepped off the ship. The closest to still it had been was when they were walking over to the harbor's walls, and even then it had still moved, craning up and up in awe as they'd approached.
She could understand her awe, of course; not even Mount Aris had anything like Griffonstone's harbor walls, still standing strong despite centuries of salt, wind, and sea. Easily five meters tall, they towered over the docks, protecting the city inside from pirates and other raiders. Any decorative value they might've had at first had been worn away by time and the sea, leaving them as smooth as silk on the outside. For those in the city who were lucky enough to have a childhood, trying to climb the walls was a rite of passage, as was the inevitable dunk in the sea afterwards.
She chuckled as the girl's head whipped around again, eyes eagerly drinking in the city around her. Gilda could see the reason for her awe at the harbor walls, but she could only see childish wonder as the explanation for her excitement at everything else. She'd stared at the gatehouse, she'd stared at the gatekeeper who'd let them in, she'd stared at the gate as it came ratcheting down, and she'd stared at every single thing hidden behind that gate; the cobblestones, the buildings, the windows, the doors, the tree and palace they began making their way towards. She acted like everything was new to her, appearing as suddenly as a lightning strike and as strange as the sea.
"Finding Griffonstone interesting?" Gasiy asked, smirk almost audible in his voice.
"Oh, yes!" the girl beamed back. "Don't get me wrong, Mount Aris is interesting, but Griffonstone's interesting on a different level. It-it feels like it goes deeper than Mount Aris, like there's something even stronger than a mountain anchoring it, like-like-Ooh!" With the hand her mother wasn't trying to crush, she pointed down an ally at what looked to Gilda like a fairly run-of-the-mill home. "That house over there? My history teacher said that that's Classical Groverian architecture, but the two houses around it look like they're High Imperial style, something that was developed centuries later. But even though they're centuries apart in design, they all look like they belong, like there's something that almost smooths out the differences between them. It's..." A thoughtful look crossed her face. "... It's like Griffonstone's a tree, and, however different the branches might look, you can tell they all came from the same tree."
Gilda rolled her eyes, muttering, "We're not that obsessed with trees."
The girl blushed at that. "Sorry," she replied. "I-I guess I got a little carried away."
"Oh, don't be like that," Gilda sighed. "I wasn't trying to shut you up, kid, I was just saying that just because we put the tree on the seal doesn't mean we're tree fanatics. Feel free to keep talking," here she smirked. "It's nice to hear people actually say nice things about us."
"Ah ha ha," the girl's father nervously laughed. "Make sure to say nice things about them, not just their architecture, Silverstream." Turning his anxious, almost panicked, gaze on Gilda, he explained, "Silverstream's got a bit of an interest in architecture, and with how much Groveria's done for the field over the years, she could probably talk for a month straight."
"Dad," the girl whined, blushing even brighter.
"Architecture?" another of Gilda's comrades, Galniz, chuckled. "Good thing Sir Cloudfloor didn't trust this to Drynyr, he'd probably try to recruit her."
The girl squeaked as her mother's grip tightened, while her father's face darkened. "I don't pretend to know your jobs better than you," he said hesitantly, "but why you decided to ever trust that snake again is beyond me."
"You think we trust Drynyr?" Gilda snorted. "After that debacle with Vola, we wouldn't trust him farther than we could throw him. We put him back to work, yeah, but if he ever slips his handlers, the whole company's efe. Do you know what that means?"
The Arisians shook their heads.
Gilda patted the hilt of her sword. "It means if we see them, we send them to their Storm King's kingdom a lot sooner than they anticipated."
The girl blanched. "Oh," she squeaked.
"Why's that a surprise?" Galniz asked. "You're Arisians, you're smarter than Homestria, you know that sometimes you can't defeat someone just by knocking them out. Your Seastar and Oddo's old Queen Chrysalis smashed Vola and his company less than a decade ago, have you already forgotten that not everyone survived that?"
"No," the girl's father replied, voice firm. "We simply prefer to focus on living our lives, not how Seastar and Chrysalis ended the Storm King and his army's."
"Most of them," Gallus whispered.
"Really?" another escort groaned. "Gilda, I thought you'd smacked the 'they-never-found-her-body' conspiracy out of the boy."
"She did," he retorted before she could cut him off. "But it's not Tempest I'm talking about. Vola's dead, Tempest's dead, but what about Black Star?"
An uncomfortable silence descended, eventually being broken by the girl nervously asking, "Um, who's Black Star?"
"One of Vola's old lieutenants," Gilda sighed, dragging the festering matter into the daylight her aide had unlocked, "from back when we thought he was just an eccentric genius, not a mad scientist. He didn't call himself the Storm King then, he gave no clue that he ever would; he was just another mercenary commander, Drynyr as an egghead with anger issues. We didn't know what those "orbs" of his did to people yet, and Tempest, by all accounts, managed to keep his soldiers under control. She was brutal, yeah, and she didn't shy away from her sword, but she tried not to break it out against civs if she could avoid it, and the company learned to follow her in that, quick. The Storm Army was soldiers back then, rough ones, even by our standards, but still people we could stomach working with." She spat on the cobblestones. "Black Star tore that facade down."
"It wasn't all a facade," Galniz argued. "There was some good in them before Black Star arrived, good that Tempest was improving. If she'd had even a few more months before Vola broke, she could've turned the Storm Army into a company I'd be proud to fight beside. Urgh, why couldn't Labrador look past their beloved papers for one day?"
"Do you really think one day could've saved Vola?" Gilda snorted. "You heard the old Arch Rune-master, he'd been going there every day for the past month. Would one day really be enough to convince him to give up on that?"
"If it came from Tempest-"
"Uh," the girl hesitantly spoke up. "What are you talking about?"
"Vola wasn't the most stable person," Galniz replied, "but he didn't just fall into becoming the Storm King. Black Star showed him to the edge, and then washed her hands of him when he jumped. All the evidence agrees; torturing prisoners and company members who protested, Vola's obsession with making his 'orbs' even deadlier, the magic research that drove him to massacre Kam Bak, all of that only started after Black Star joined. It kept on going after she left, yes, but she was the one that started it in the first place, mark my words. Tempest tried to stop it, but leading the company kept her away from Vola too long. Demons lose against angels, but the angels need to be there to fight, and thanks to Labrador not letting Tempest through because her papers weren't in order, she wasn't there to fight when Black Star tempted Vola to Kam Bak."
"You said that Black Star washed her hands of the Storm King," the girl's father asked. "What did she do?"
"Left the company," Gilda answered. "Turned her kit in to Tempest, signed the necessary papers, grabbed her stuff, then found some rock to hide under. Lots of people say they've seen her since then, either as a warlord in Midland, a bandit in the foothills, or even hiding in the Runery she was so obsessed with, but none of those stories has ever been confirmed. For all we know, she might've ended up heading back home and starting a regular life."
"If she did," the girl's father quietly growled. "I hope she keeps it that way, for her sake. If my sister-in-law were to learn about her, if the public did..." He swallowed his anger. "We can't risk any distractions, not now. Seastar has enough to deal with, he doesn't need to worry about a second Hammer and Anvil."
"You wouldn't need a Hammer and Anvil to deal with her," Galniz waved dismissively. "A good-sized watch patrol would be enough. She was cunning, yeah, but she had to be against Tempest; if she'd made Tempest her enemy, she wouldn't have lasted three seconds. She's cunning and good with tools, but if she doesn't have tools, she's pathetic. In a way, she's Tempest's mirror; Tempest taught herself how to fight but refused to fight those Homestria didn't like fighting, Black Star taught herself to fight civs, the unarmed, and anyone who couldn't fight back, but never got around to teaching herself how. Like most demons, a lot of her strength comes from the shadows."
"Then why did you let her flee into them?" the girl's mother fretted.
"We didn't 'let' her do anything," Gilda retorted. "She disappeared before the first reports of Kam Bak even reached us. We didn't let her escape, she did that herself. Sir Cloudfloor tried to find her, but by the time we even knew we should be searching for her, she'd managed to cover her tracks and go to ground. The only clue they ever managed to find was a bottle of her hair dye on the path from the Storm Army compound to the inner city."
"She dyed her hair?" the girl's father clicked his tongue. "Well, there goes any usefulness of a description."
"Oh, no," Galniz shook his head. "No, she might've hidden her hair around us, and she might be able to hide her skin, too, but she'll never be able to hide her eyes. They'll burn through any disguise, burn like a glacier's frozen heart."
A stray chill wind passed over them, and the girl shivered, drawing her cloak tighter around herself. "Starting to see," she chattered, "why so much of Groverian architecture is focused on keeping places warm."
"You think this is cold?" Gilda chuckled. "To Ironpeakers like me, this is a nice, sunny summer day."
"Really?" the girl blinked back. "I'd hate to see your winter, then."
"We hate to see it, too," Gallus replied. "Snow too deep to walk through, your breath freezing as soon as it leaves your mouth..." Beneath his helm, she could almost hear his eyes glaze over. "... the Cold-Madness taking your friends over, making them lie down, go to sleep, and never wake up again..." His helm rattled as he shook his head. "Any-anyway, the point is, we hate to see winter as much as you do."
The girl's eyes softened as Gallus rambled, though, mercifully, she didn't say anything, instead simply nodding. At least one personal problem isn't being dragged out into the open, Gilda thought with a curl of her lip.
The tree marked seven-and-a-half when they arrived at the palace, another Iron Fang patrol waiting for them at the gate. "Any disturbances?" their commander asked.
"None," came Gasiy's confident reply. "City was all quiet, no problems at the contact point with Celaeno."
The gate commander nodded, then ushered them inside, the girl's head spinning like a top in wonder all the while. It only stopped as they reached the door to Sir Cloudfloor's office, Gianna and Rory still on guard, the girl staring at them and the door with unchecked awe.
"Honored guests," Gianna greeted them with a bow. "You have come well."
"You have received us well," the girl's father replied. "Is Sir Cloudfloor waiting for us?"
"Sir Cloudfloor is waiting for Sky Beak, Ocean Flow, Gilda, and Gasiy," Rory's rumble answered. "All others are to wait outside or in the guests' rooms. Sir Cloudfloor said so, said any other guests and Iron Fangs were to go to the guests' rooms."
The mother's grip tightened. "I'm staying with Silverstream," she said, her voice as tight as her hand.
"I'll be fine, Mom," the girl tried to reassure her. "I'm safe here, don't worry."
Her mother's raised eyebrow was a work of art. "You expect me not to worry after I almost lost you?" she whispered back in disbelief.
"You won't lose her, miss," Galniz smiled. "She's got the best of the best protecting her here-"
Gilda was thrown back a step by the glare the girl's mother threw at Galniz, killing his voice with a squeak. "I don't care if you have Seastar, Pharynx, Ventra, and every knight of Aris who's ever lived waiting for her," she snapped. "I'm not letting her out of my sight again."
Her mate bit his lip, then turned to Rory. "Is it all right if we bring Silverstream in with us? Don't worry, she'll be quiet, right sweetie?"
While the girl eagerly nodded, Rory shook his head, barking, "Sir Cloudfloor is waiting for Sky Beak, Ocean Flow, Gilda, and Gasiy, no others."
The corridor grew tense, like the hour before a storm. The girl's mother grit her teeth, clearly prepared to fight for her kid, while Rory and his beloved orders seemed to loom ever-larger. Quietly, Gilda did a headcount, trying to figure out who would stand with Rory, who would fight for the girl's mother, and who would just stare in shock as their world turned upside-down.
"Permission to speak, miss?" the boy asked Gilda for the first time ever.
Carefully, she nodded, preparing herself in case whatever he said showed who was in that third category.
The boy nodded back, then turned to the girl's mother. "Miss Ocean Flow," he said. "I understand that you're afraid of losing your daughter, justifiably if what we heard happened is the truth. I know that you want to keep her safe, and I know that you have something else you need to do, something that you can't do with her. You came here with a duty, just like we did, and our duty is to protect you, your husband, and your daughter. I promise you, we will not fail in that duty; nothing will touch, move, or harm a hair on her head while any of us still live. While there is still breath in our bodies, everything else in them will be at work to serve and protect her." He hesitated, swallowed, then knelt before the Arisians. "I'm only an apprentice," he admitted. "I won't be a full member of the company, not for a while. I haven't said the words yet, and won't officially for a while, but for your sake, I'll say them now."
Briefly closing his eyes, he opened them, then, staring at Miss Ocean Flow, chanted, "Steel rings and storms rage, but still I shall speak these words. I shall not forsake them, not for gold, glory, affection, or power; neither shall I abandon them, though mountains fall and sky turn black. I shall keep them, from this breath until my last. I pick up spear and shield that others might not, sacrifice so that others might have, die that they might live. My life is my liege's, their need my need, their enemies my enemies, and naught shall wound them that has not first slain me. No innocent shall taste my sword, no plunder shall fill my purse, no order shall go unheeded, nor law be disobeyed, no lie shall pass my lips, and no duty will I fail. All this I solemnly swear, before every throne of Man, before every bird and beast, before every grass and tree, before every sea, sky, and land, before the stars, Sun, and Moon, before every god, and before myself, my honor, my heart, and my life."
Then, smooth as his dancing, he clipped off his sword in its case and offered the hilt to Miss Ocean Flow.
The corridor fell silent. Miss Ocean Flow stared back at the boy impassively, keeping whatever her true feelings were behind a mask. Then, grabbing the offered items, she held the scabbard under her elbow and drew the sword out with her free hand. Thoughtfully, she twisted it back and forth, then said, "I've seen this material before, while working with my sister. Calosoman steel, isn't it?"
"The best Sir Cloudfloor could find," the boy answered.
"Are the hands that offer to wield it of the same quality?" Ocean Flow pointedly asked.
The boy hesitated, then, swallowing his pride, said, "No, they're not. But they're willing to try."
"I'm not willing to trust Silverstream with someone who's only willing to try," Ocean Flow replied, before sheathing the sword and offering it back to the boy. "If I entrust Silverstream with you and your companions, you are to do your duty; no tries, no qualifiers, no 'ifs,' you do your duty."
The boy accepted his sword back and gravely nodded. "We will."
Ocean Flow curtly nodded, then looked at her daughter. All the iron that had filled her fell out, leaving her biting her lip as she looked at the girl, at the hand that connected them and barred her from her duty.
Two more hands appeared, one on her shoulder, the other on the hand that held her daughter's. Her family smiled at her, softly, encouragingly. Her mate held her and offered her his strength, while the girl held her hand and offered her her love, offerings which she accepted tearfully.
With an iron will and renewed resolve, she let go of her girl's hand.
Then promptly grabbed her in a tight, encircling embrace and whispered, "Stay safe. I'll join you as soon as I can."
"I will, Mom," the girl whispered back, before leaving her mother's embrace and walking over to the boy, who nodded to her, then turned back to Ocean Flow. "Nothing will happen to your daughter," he promised. "I stand by my words."
"Show them not to be empty," Ocean Flow said, one last gesture of defiance before she fell into her husband as those Sir Cloudfloor wasn't meeting marched off to the guest rooms.
Gilda saw the boy as they left, standing hard by the girl's side, tense and vigilant. She was a bit surprised that he'd offered to work with her; from what she'd seen, it looked like the girl would be almost as bubbly as Gabriella, and the boy had made his feelings on the messenger clear. But, like he'd said, he had a duty, and that duty meant he needed to work with her, however little he liked it. Of course, those dramatics of his showed that he might force a mask to work with her instead of himself, but still...
Well done, Gallus, she thought to herself as she, Gasiy, and the two older Arisians entered Sir Cloudfloor's office. Well done.
The knight nodded in greeting to his guests, then, as the door behind them closed, asked, "Does Queen Novo send her regards?"
"Her regards," Ocean Flow replied, taking her ribbon of office out of her pocket, "her voice, and," reaching back into her pocket, she pulled out a small piece of paper, which she offered to the knight with the words, "news of the enemy."
Nodding in thanks, Sir Cloudfloor took the note, and read...