Breale watched as Fredrick helped Saphry struggle up the last few lengths of rope, huffing all the way. To her it seemed as though the princess was perhaps putting on a bit of an act with how weak she sometimes appeared, however. She certainly hadn’t acted like this back in the sanctum.

 

Breale winced as she remembered that dark room, and the horrors they’d seen down there. She had joked it off as no big deal to the others, of course, but the experience was still fresh in her mind. The groans of the dying, the pain of the burns, the seemingly endless time before someone had found them down there…

 

She shook her head, making sure that Frerdrick couldn’t see her brief lapse. He’d assuredly say something, and Breale had long since gotten tired of her brother worrying about her.

 

“Was it… really important enough to break into my room though?” Saphry asked. “It’s really been a long day, you know.”

 

“Important enough? It’s only the best example of the Star’s beauty! Don’t tell me you’d rather miss it!” Auro sounded offended at the very question, and Breale couldn’t help but grin when Saphry started tripping over herself to assure her that she hadn’t actually forgotten all about it.

 

Originally, Breale had planned on finding some excuse so that Auro could spend some time with Saphry, but that plan had fallen out as soon as Saphry had gotten herself locked down here with Endril’s schemes. It’d taken quite a bit of effort, and bribery, to get where they were now, and neither of those were Auro’s fields of expertise. Not much was, actually, but Breale liked the little noble anyway. Or was that one of the reasons she liked her to begin with? Auro certainly had a way of making everyone around her feel competent, and the Star knows Breale needed that sometimes.

 

They looked around the gently slanted roof, finding a perfect place to watch the shooting stars in the space between the chimneys. Saphry’s towering rock stack wasn’t the tallest in the Minuan fortress, but it was still above the rest of the city by a good few stories. Breale could see pretty much the entire place from where she stood on the shingles, as the daytime mist had gradually cleared over the afternoon.

 

And what a beautiful city it was.

 

Soaring towers of marvellous marble and colourful roofs spread for what felt like forever in front of her, each one carefully arched and swirled with stone supports to look as though they defied gravity itself. Lines of sprawling houses and veinlike alleys made up the lifeblood of the city, which lended a charmingly natural order to the chaos of Minua. The cathedral could be seen peeking above the rest, resplendent in the starlight and grand in purpose. Great centres of learning and commerce dotted the corners and roads of the sunset side, a good number of them renowned throughout Verol for their wisdom and good nature. Even from this height, Breale could see the lamps of hundreds of citizens who had decided to do the same thing as they did and had camped out of the raised roofs of their houses.

 

And up above, the upper reaches of the fortress they sat upon was built into the great stacks of stone at the centre. White lantern light spilled from balconies and walkways out into the pure dark of the night, each lamp meticulously crafted by the artisan priests of Celrion’s Peak. Waterfalls fell freely from the higher levels to the lower, and canals and small aqueducts provided the ever present sound of moving water.

 

To the south, the city rose right up against the valley walls, and in the more shallow parts even built upon the mountains themselves. Breale could not remember the names of those peaks, though she knew that they were a part of Celrion’s Grasp. 

 

Were they named after the Hearthstars? She wondered. Or perhaps the Homely Four? 

 

They were less important than those to the north and east, assuredly. Those mountains were truly huge, as if they were cast out of the spears of titans. Upon those, the ice was said to grow blue in thickness, and the spirits of the mountain dove into the very lungs of tresspassers to steal their breath. It was also upon those which Minua had set its important institutions on, with the Kelrione Imperial Academy halfway up the northern peak and the monastery of Celrion on one of the eastern ones miles down into the valley. Breale could almost guarantee that hidden forts and redoubts were built into them as well, though neither Duke Belvan or Auro had not seen fit to confirm that.

 

Breale sat down on the crest of the roof, and the rest gathered around her. The stars hadn’t started to fall yet, and most likely wouldn’t for another quarter bell at the least. There was a chill to the air, and Breale couldn’t help but leer jealously as Saphry seemed to not notice despite wearing half the layers of the others. Her strange companion, Silst, sat in her lap like a house-fae. 

 

Silst had been a confusing element to get used to for Breale, one that had gone completely against everything she knew about dragons. Though their homeland was relatively close, they weren’t exactly common beings down in Verol, and Breale had seen only two before she’d left Cice. They were common enough in books and legends, of course, but all of those tales told of wyrms the size of houses and of solemn bonds and great honourable deeds. They certainly weren’t supposed to look like fashion accessories that lounged about on top of people’s heads like Silst so often did. Best she could tell, Silst was a younger drake, perhaps even a child of his species, but she’d never asked for fear of being rude. Dragons were almost holy, after all, even if Silst and Saphry sometimes did all they could to work against that sense of reverence.

 

When Breale tuned back into the conversation, she found Saphry complaining.

 

“...not about to say she’s completely mistaken about magic, of course, but she’s completely mistaken about magic. Fire is fire and snow is snow, you know.” Saphry said.

 

“You’re not going to lecture me on sword techniques when I come back down in a few days, are you?” Fredrick asked. 

 

“Completely different. I know less about swords than I do about silverware.” Saphry waved dismissively. “How would you feel if some self-proclaimed master started your training off by practising how to hold a sword for three straight days?”

 

“Lady Amelia is hardly self-proclaimed.” Auro noted.

 

“My swordmaster actually did start my training out by adjusting how I held the sword.” Fredrick said. “I stood in the beginning four forms for hours at a time.”

 

“And that’s why I’m glad I had to teach myself.” Breale said. 

 

Breale’s mother had banned her from most of the pursuits her brother Fredrick had been expected to train in, leaving her to waste away up in her room while she watched him live. Every day she had watched as he trained in swords, politics, and administration, all in order for him to eventually lead Cice as Lord. Her, however? She had dutifully studied art, poetry, and all the things that made a good Veroline wife. And she’d enjoyed it, too, until Endril had come to train under her father. After seeing the beauty of his duelling, she had taught herself the art with her father’s sword until she’d seen fit to challenge her brother for the first time.

 

Which had been an unmitigated disaster of a fight, but that hadn’t bothered her too much.

 

“Which is exactly the reason your forms are so sloppy now.” Fredrick shook his head. “It’s a wonder you’ve ever won a duel.”

 

“I didn’t say it was good, I just said I’m glad.” Breale said.

 

“Hours?” Saphry looked between the Mavericks with a look of horror. “We’re… you’re not going to start there, right?”

 

“Is there another place to start?” Fredrick asked.

 

“Endurance training?” Breale chuckled. “I’d pay a few australs to see you run laps.”

 

“I might have to drop out of this whole training thing…”

 

“Nonsense!” Breale said. “Maybe even Auro can join you?”

 

Auro broke her eyes away from the night sky at that.

 

“M…me? I…”

 

“Eh, I wouldn’t be opposed to torturing someone else as well.” Saphry nodded. “You did vote to force me through review once a week.”

 

Breale laughed painfully, knowing full well how awful review was for their group. She still didn’t understand how an institution so horrible had become standard. Or was it not as bad for other groups?

 

They fell into a comfortable silence in the ethereal light of the moon.

 

“...to the lance.” Auro whispered.

 

“Hmm?” Saphry asked. “What was that?”

 

“I’ve always wanted to train with a lance, not the sword.” Auro said, looking at the rest of them guiltily. “I’ve always wanted to be a knight.”

 

“None of the orders would accept you.” Fredrick said simply. “I don’t know of one that takes in girls.”

 

Breale punched her brother’s arm, and he shot her a quizzical glance.

 

Surely you’re not that far gone, right? She wondered.

 

“Don’t knights use both the spear and the sword?” Saphry asked. “Why just the lance?”

 

Auro looked away.

 

“Ah… no reason. It’s just…” She bobbed her head as if chewing on a sour candy. “They use swords against people, right? And the lance against monsters? I’m not sure I’d ever be able be brave enough to hurt a person.”

 

“That’s a trope.” Fredrick said. “The lance is used to double as a staff for casting, it has nothing to do with monsters. The sword is just as good. In fact, the Cice style of sword fighting is actually developed to directly counter large monsters like-”

 

Breale punched her brother again to shut him up.

 

“So you don’t want to be a knight then.” Saphry said, ignoring Fredrick.

 

Auro tilted her head.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You want to be a hero, not a knight.” Saphry said. “There’s a difference there.”

 

“A hero?” Auro asked.

 

“Knights fight dragons and scare girls.” Saphry said with a grin. “ The other fights to protect, to stand for an ideal. A hero doesn’t require any grand effort or to be a part of some prestigious group, only an honest effort to better the world. And that doesn’t require a sword.”

 

“Says the one that killed a grand demon.” Breale said.

 

“With a sword.” Fredrick added.

 

Saphry rolled her eyes. 

 

“That’s Demonbane, to you.”

 

Saphry glanced towards Silst and whispered something into his ear.  Breale couldn’t understand the few words she managed to overhear.

 

Breale raised an eyebrow as the drake appeared to chuckle, but didn’t say anything. She still didn’t know where Saphry got half the words she said sometimes, or what they meant. They certainly weren’t Summarkan, after all. 

 

And most of them sounded like some sort of curse.

 

“A hero…” Auro muttered, glancing towards the rest of us.

 

“I could always teach you both at the same time.” Fredrick said. “Though it would only be the sword; I have not kept up with spear training nearly as well.”

 

Auro perked up.

 

“You’d do that?” Auro asked. “Really?”

 

“You’re already learning magic.” Fredrick said with a shrug. “What’s one more social convention?”

 

If only you’d been as willing to teach me when I’d asked. Breale thought bitterly. Maybe I wouldn’t be so far behind.

 

She couldn’t really blame him too much for that, however. It was like that with everything she did. In every trade or skill, no matter how hard she worked her brother was just a little bit better. There wasn’t a single thing she tried that Fredrick hadn’t been able to master with relative ease. And truly, it pissed her off.

 

Not enough to complain about, though. It wasn’t Fredrick’s fault he was great at everything, but Breale’s that she couldn’t work hard enough to beat him. And how pathetic would it be if the ant complained to the beetle about its strength? She couldn’t very well ask him to suck at something, she could only work harder and use hard work and practise as a bludgeon to get ahead.

 

If only it was that easy.

 

“You said the spear’s used as a staff, right?” Saphry asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Why can’t you use a sword for that? You can cast out of anything, as far as I can tell.”

 

Breale put on her best face, trying to dismiss the feelings that had suddenly welled up.

 

“Ah, I know this one!” Breale said cheerfully. “It’s because the spear’s mostly made of wood. You can channel through metal, I’ve been told, but it’s much harder than channelling through wood.”

 

“Almost, but not quite.” Fredrick said. “The spear is mainly better because wand cores can be inserted relatively easily into the shaft to enhance casted spells, and the length can be used to better aim spells. Spellswords do exist, though. They just require a slightly longer handle and gylph stamped metal. Star metal works even better for both.”

 

“Ah, that makes sense…” Saphry said.

 

Breale’s mood darkened.

 

Anything and everything.

 

Suddenly Auro pointed skyward with a shout, and they looked up to find that the starfield had melted to reveal the shining mass of the Whitesky.

 

Where before there had laid a carpet of whites and blue had transformed, turning into a waterfall of colour raining in from the northern skies. The divinities of the outer heavens streaked across the clouds, tens of thousands of comets hailing and burning like fairy hearts through an inky sky. The dark of the night was banished in such a show, all the evils of the world dispelled for but one night.

 

From her studies, Breale knew that all the meteors were harmless, despite their awe-inspiring assault. Most would burn up completely, but those that did land would mostly do so in a valley called Balmin’s Vale west of the capital, where they would be collected and turned into weapons and tools. But still, it brought a concerned flutter to her heart as she watched them stream across the sky like a flock of cloudfish. She couldn’t imagine the damage if this landed somewhere populated.

 

The gentle roar of the Whitesky filled the air, a soothing hum that filled Breale’s heart with reverence. It was not a raucous cry like the twists of horns, or short and pervading like the beating of drums, but sharp, like the wind of the flute. It was soothing like the cool breeze on a summer day, and joyful like the cries of a victorious duelist, and wonderful like the bells of the church. Breale’s spirit soared at the sound, yearning to fly away and join it in song up in the clouds.

 

This was the last gift of the Star, the melody of the heavens.

 

How had I ever known loss or fear? Breale marvalled, as she did every time. When the heavens had hung above all this time?

 

Breale glanced to the left, to where Saphry sat gaping at the sky. Her eyes were wide and full, and the strange glass crown glinted with the lights of a thousand white stars. Her shocked face looked striking in the light, and Breale couldn’t help but think that she looked as though it were her first time to witness the Whitesky. 

 

Auro sat beside looking just as entranced, though not with the stars.

 

Breale looked away. It was better not to acknowledge some things.

 

A gentle humming started up to Breale’s right, and the lyrics of an old song came low upon her ears. Still gazing up at the sky, Breale joined her brother as it got to the third verse, singing the lyrics just as her father had so many years ago.

 

“Fly, my starlight, down the road.

See, of futures long and told.

If, by chance, heaven’s grant thy wish.

Set thy lamp by hearth yet quick.

See, of Earth! Of Gems! Of Light!

Through heaven’s black and mountains thick.

In the heart, where star’s lie.”

 

Watching, as the stars continued to fly.