Chapter I: Accents & Assistants
My name is Emma Marcus Farrier. I have crossed the Void between worlds, killed more people than I can count, and toppled great empires and mighty nations in my time. Already, within the first month after I crossed the void to the world of Selene, I had won my first duel (to my regret), saved the lives of several of my friends, and brought to “justice” a deranged surgeon and engineer calling herself “Nemesis.”
Seven weeks to the day into my stay on Selene, I was sprawled out on a couch in one of the many, many sitting rooms of Halflance manor, complaining my head off at Lady Halflance’s wife.
“I don’t need servants, I don’t want servants, and more to the point, it’s weird as hell,” I said. “It’s just not right, having people whose jobs it is to run around and do everything I say.”
Colonel Sir Margaret Halflance, wife of Lady Halflance, whose house I had been mooching from, crossed her arms and smiled. “You say that, and yet last time I checked, you don’t know how to dress yourself presentably or go to a party without getting yourself caught in a duel.”
I curled my legs a little closer to my chest. “You don’t need to remind me of that, asshole.”
“The fact remains that you need someone to be your guide in matters of society, what with your condition, and I don’t believe that Aisha will want to do much with you after Tetraday’s events.” The condition she was referring to was my “brain fever,” the explanation for why none of my memories covered life on Selene instead of that weird made-up world called “Earth.”
“And giving me servants is going to help?” I said. “I’m not going to be giving two people orders like some kind of middle-manager, I don’t command people, that’s not how I work. Besides, I don’t see how Anna and Unity will be able to help me survive the fighting pit that you people think of as high society.”
“Anna has been working with this family for years, and she’s picked up almost as much about how a proper lady should act in those years as I have since I married Sarah. Unity is…” Sir Margaret paused, trying to describe Unity, one of the few times I had ever seen her without anything to say. Unity had that effect on people. “Unity will be able to keep you safe.”
“So… bodyguards. You want me to have two bodyguards following me around, who have to do anything I say? That’s not happening.”
Sir Margaret leaned against a table, rolling her eyes at me in a distinctly “older-sister-y” fashion. “The proper term is ‘ladies-in-waiting’. Besides, they don’t take orders from you, they take orders from the woman who’s paying their salaries, which if you haven’t noticed is not you, but Sarah.”
I sat up a little. Even when she was gone, invoking the name of Lady Halflance was like an occult incantation. “Oh. I understand now. This isn’t for my protection, it’s so I stop embarrassing the household.”
Sir Margaret shrugged. “Even if that is partially the case, you know Anna and Unity care for you, and I really think letting them be your personal assistants would be helpful with adjusting and all that. Do it for me?”
“Yeah. Alright. You owe me two favors now.”
Sir Margaret gave me a curt nod, then turned and left. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to. There’s been a fascinating new discovery in the underground around the old temple, and nothing is going to stop me from finding it out firsthand.”
“Hey, before you go, do you know where Miss Rook is?”
Sir Margaret, in her tradition of never going anywhere slowly, was already at the door. She stopped in an instant, one hand on the doorframe. “She’s exactly where she always is, practicing her sword technique at the gymnasium. I hope you don’t intend to use her absence to try anything, or I’ll have to duel you myself.”
“No, of course not,” I said, rolling off of the couch and narrowly catching myself before I was sprawled out on the floor entirely. “I wanted to work on my sword skills, seeing as how there’s nothing better going on. I’ll be able to beat you someday, I’m sure.”
Sir Margaret had already left the room. I’m not even sure she heard the last sentence. I went out the same door, rolling my neck with a series of pops, ready to face Rook’s somewhat rough teaching, when I nearly ran right into Anna and Unity, my new ladies-in-waiting.
“We’re ready to serve, Miss Emma!” announced Unity.
“You seem a bit down, is everything quite right?” asked Anna, simultaneously.
They were standing shoulder to shoulder, backs straight, looking me right in the eye and wearing completely identical matching outfits, narrowly-cut dresses of black cloth with white lace that extended down to the ankle. The whole look made me think that they were going to ask me to play with them forever and ever.
It was especially shocking for me because I hadn’t seen Unity in weeks. Last I’d seen her, she was pale and sickly, her tightly curly mass of brown hair matted and flea-ridden, her eyes dull and red. Now she looked healthy, and happy, even if her upbringing on the streets of Amrinval made her clearly unsuited for a crisp servant’s uniform. The one thing that broke the normalcy were the metallic studs and wires still embedded in the flesh around her neck and shoulders; the last remnants of Nemesis’s experiments on her, that even the best surgeons couldn’t remove.
My other lady-in-waiting, Anna Livia Plurabelle, was exactly like I’d seen her last, which made sense seeing as how that had been five days ago. She was still a whip-thin young woman with freckles on her face, a long auburn braid extending down to her back, and one bad leg. If I had to describe the energy I felt emanating off of her, I would liken it to that of an eager foxhound who could hypothetically go hunting with you, but really just wants her belly rubbed.
“I, erm, I’m fine, I just didn’t expect you both to be waiting for me. Unity, you look… dapper.”
“What-what did you just call me?” said Unity, stepping forward and giving me a look like she was actually about to punch me.
Anna held out a hand, holding her back. “It’s a compliment, Unity.”
Unity instantly snapped back to her proper stance and expression. “Thank you greatly, Miss Emma. How may we assist you?”
“Well, I wasn’t really planning on doing anything. I was going to go over to the gymnasium to train with Miss Rook. I don’t need any help.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I feel that you spend entirely too much time with her, Miss. At this rate I half expect you to run off and join the army. I suppose that’s one way to fight the Ur-Nahaj.”
“Pfft. Fat chance of that,” I said. “It’s just that... there isn’t much to do around here, besides reading romance novels and studying programming. Studying swordplay is one of the few things that prevent me from going insane.”
“Personally I-I prefer it when there isn’t anything to do at all,” Unity said with a tilt of her head. “I suppose I’m in no position to judge.”
“In either case, we’ll accompany you,” said Anna, giving Unity an awkward look. “It wouldn’t reflect well on us if something should happen to you on the first day of our assignment.”
Figuring I might as well humor them, I turned and headed off. The winding corridors of Halflance Manor, which had been completely confusing when I first arrived, were now completely familiar to me; I knew the best way to head from the sitting room down to the side door of the manor. From there, it was a quick walk across the Halflance’s modest backyard (modest by the standards of Bluerose nobility; you could fit a soccer field in there) to the gym. I told Anna and Unity to stay outside and made my way in.
Miss Rook, head of the guard and fighting trainer to the Halflances, was indeed there. Rook cut an unusual figure, repeating her saber forms for what must have been the millionth time. She was a tall woman, an inch or two under six feet tall and with muscles fit for an 80s action movie. Her face was even more striking, with features fit for an ancient Greek statue, except covered and scars and fixed in a look that gave you the impression she was figuring out the fastest way to kill everyone in the room at any given time.
I slipped into the showers, got changed, and grabbed a practice saber. “Up for some practice duels, Rook?”
Rook responded by, midway through her drill, turning aside and trying to break my skull with her sword. I jumped back on instinct, pushing her blade aside with my own. There was a crash of metal on metal, and though the tip of her (blunt) sword gave me a mild bruise on the cheek, in an actual fight it would have been totally nonlethal.
“You’re getting better, you know,” said Rook.
“Wow, really? I had no—“ I lunged forward to poke her in the gut. She brushed my blow aside with barely any effort.
“An elementary attempt,” Rook mumbled. “You have speed on your side, and sharp reflexes. They will serve you well.” She stepped forward, launching into a flurry of curving strikes. She wasn’t going at full speed, but even still it was a challenge to meet each one properly.
“I’ve never heard you be this complimentary before. There’s a catch coming, I know it.” I threw an uppercut, sweeping towards the side of her hip. Rook simply stepped back out of my range.
“The catch is that you lack refinement,” Rook snapped. “You might be able to overrun a journeywoman swordfighter, but all the reflexes in the world cannot help you against a true master, trust me.”
Rook swung for the top of my head in a dramatic cut. Quick as lightning, I threw up my own saber to defend, only for her to suddenly switch halfway through, twisting her blade around my block and striking me directly in the ribs. It hurt like hell.
“Ow…” I said, suddenly out of breath.
“You still cannot beat me. Perhaps in time we will be evenly matched.”
We went on like that for maybe twenty minutes, moving at about three-quarters speed and trying to hit each other as best as we could. Occasionally Rook would stop to give me pointers, but most of it was learning through sparring. She hit me a few times, hard enough to hurt but lightly enough that the pain faded quickly. I struck her exactly once, and I’m not even sure it hurt. Eventually we both fell back, completely drenched in sweat. Rook went to lean against the wall of the gym and brood while I stretched.
I tried to glare at Rook in a way that was intimidating, a way that said “I’ll get you next time”. I ended up losing focus while looking in her general direction. Rook’s skin looks something like a road map with all of the scars. Some of them were from battle wounds, some appeared to be surgical, and some that I’d seen when I accidentally walked in on her topless were so large and deep that I struggled to imagine how she’d gotten them. One particular set drew my attention, for whatever reason; a series of parallel lines, each one about an inch from the next, running down the outer part of each shoulder. There were exactly five on each side, and as I glanced back and forth I realized that they were completely, perfectly symmetrical. My thoughts started to drift to how she could have possibly acquired those scars, and from there to thinking about her past. Then I remembered something, something that I hadn’t had a chance to talk about since I had learned of it a few weeks earlier.
“So what’s with your accent?” I asked.
Rook snapped to attention, standing up straight and looking right at me before she suddenly slumped back down into a measured apathy. “What accent?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You try to sound like everyone else, but when you’re stressed or just in private, your accent slips into something else.”
“Piss off,” said Rook, back to her other accent. I could never quite place what it sounded like; if I had to guess, I’d say a mix of Irish, Finnish, Scottish, maybe even a touch German.
“I’m just curious, is all. We’ve been working together for like a month and a half, I feel like I should know more about you.”
Rook glared right into my eyes. “We are not friends. We are sparring partners. Piss off.”
I intended to storm off, only to change my mind halfway through and turn right back. It had the effect of making it look like I’d just twirled around in place for no reason. “You know, I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I know where you got that accent from. Tell me about Creandas.”
Rook’s eyes narrowed with rage. “I don’t know anything about Creandas, I’ve never been to Creandas, and I don’t want to talk about Creandas. Piss. Off.”
“Wow. Nice tall, dark, and mysterious act, Wolverine,” I said, loading my voice with enough sarcasm that even someone who didn’t get the reference would get it. “Seriously, would it kill you to open up to anyone for five minutes? After all we went through with the Mechanodrones?”
Rook smiled. “If anyone here’s the wolverine, it’s you. You certainly fight like a wild fucking animal.”
I was about to object on the grounds of not having regeneration powers and much better hair, only to remember that she had no idea what I was talking about. “Can I at least get a story about where you got all of those weird scars on your shoulders?”
“You know that I could kill you where you stand and you wouldn’t be able to stop me, yes?” said Rook, back to her fake accent.
“I’ll take that as a no, then.”
I tossed aside my practice sword and stomped back into the changing room. A minute later, I was out of the gym and ready to head back to the library to sulk. Anna and Unity were waiting for me.
“Oh, Emma! A message arrived for you while you were busy!” said Anna.
“Wow, you’re--you’re covered in sweat,” Unity muttered. “What do you do in there?”
Anna flashed Unity a shutting-up look, then smiled back at me. “Lady Halflance has returned from Parliament, and is holding a meeting with the entire household.”
I blew right past Anna. “Great. You can tell me the important details when it’s over.”
“Unfortunately, the Lady requested your presence,” said Anna, grabbing me by the shoulder. “She mentioned you by name.”
I stopped, with a sigh. I was disruptive enough that Halflance wouldn’t request me be there without a good reason. “Alright then. Lead on.”
Oh gosh I feel bad for Emma's servants
So does Emma...
Looks like she's a rookie... at figuring out Rook! Huhuhuhuuuu
I'm glad to read more of Emma's adventures!!
I'm happy to see Emma back in action. Looking forward to seeing what she gets up to now.
Hijinks, of course
I must say, I really admire Emma for her... mouthiness? Talking like that to people on whose goodwill she is depending requires guts. Maybe it's less admiration and more envy.
Happy to see more more of this series
Looking forward to seeing how it goes.