A deluge of white doves filled the afternoon sky.

I cast my gaze upwards, smiling in delight at the wings weaving a song of celebration as they brushed past the leaves of the verdant evergreens.

Indeed … even nature itself sought to welcome me to my destination!

Before me, the Loerstadt Gate rose high as a symbol of my family’s pride. Built by the blood and sweat of my ancestors, they had toiled day and night, finding neither rest nor comfort as they back-breakingly commanded the peasantry to construct it.

Now, our northern bastion stood as a testament to my kingdom’s strength. Iron and stone met each other in holy matrimony, creating a wall vast enough to defy both the shadows cast by our neighbours … as well as the invasive red badgers which sought ever to devour my kingdom’s gardens.

I shuddered.

Truly, few places were more overdue the reward of my presence. Or my acknowledgement.

Thus, I tugged Apple’s reins to a halt, then gestured towards the looming battlements. 

“Behold, Coppelia! The Loerstadt Gate! The greatest bulwark to ever exist, fashioned by the minds of my forebears and graced by the heroes of old! Here stands a monument to my kingdom’s enduring legacy, each stone as immovable as the mountains from which it was carved!”

Beside me, my loyal handmaiden raised her hand to her brows. Her eyes winced as she rose to her tip-toes, taking in the grandeur of my kingdom’s pride.

“Oh, is that it?”

“E-Excuse me?! What do you mean, ‘is that it’?! What else could it be?!”

“I mean, I just expected something a little bigger.”

My mouth widened in horror.

“B-Bigger?! The walls surpass even that of Reitzlake Castle! Why would you want bigger?!”

Coppelia hummed, then began counting down with her fingers.

“Let’s see … tidal waves, hurricanes, landslides, ice storms, volcanic eruptions, giant fruit slimes …”

“Coppelia, you cannot possibly tell me that all the walls in Ouzelia are built to a standard required to thwart every natural disaster known to exist.”

“No, I’m telling you they’re built to a standard required to thwart every natural disaster all at the same time.”

I tightly closed my eyes.

A moment later, they blinked open to the sight of my kingdom, its temperate climate, lack of volcanoes and its perfectly sized walls. 

My brief feelings of exasperation vanished like the doves upon the horizon.

“Yes, well, you’ve little to fear here. Not only does my kingdom lack all the, well, utter horrors you’ve mentioned, but even should the ground itself open up beneath it, you may rest in the knowledge that the Loerstadt Gate will stand firm. Indeed, those who reside here would stand upon each other’s shoulders to hold it up if necessary.”

“Huh, your soldiers are pretty dedicated, huh?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “But I wasn’t referring to my soldiers.”

I tugged Apple’s reins once more, then nodded ahead as the full extent of the Loerstadt Gate’s true strength came into view.

Indeed, it was more than a first line of defence.

It was the very first image of my kingdom. And that meant it was defended by more than just soldiers.

Why … it was defended by the most hardened entrepreneurs to have ever graced our lands. And I had little doubt they would hold up the sky itself rather than risk losing their prosperous businesses here.

“Gifts and souvenirs! All the kingdom’s local specialties from Trierport to Stermondt on every shelf!” 

“Visit the Rensworth Last Stop Shop! Homemade chocolates and sweets freshly crafted each day in our Reitzlake Main Store!”

“Lee & Tiller’s Bakery! 50% off! We have freshly baked cheesecakes still piping hot!”

“HATS. I’M SELLING HATS.”

As Apple bore me beside the row of commerce at work, I offered a nod of satisfaction.

Not at everything. How there existed at least two hat merchants in my kingdom yet to be reduced to poverty was beyond me. 

But still–most things.

As was common with all border points, here existed more than a bastion of defence. It was the first and the last shop of the nation. 

Yet this was no unauthorised market of tents and stalls plaguing the footsteps of busy soldiers. The Loerstadt Gate boasted an unbroken vista of reputable companies built into the very foundations. As a result, much of the wall itself accommodated a host of featured brands. 

Yet to conduct business in such a prime location demanded a host of additional taxes. And that meant the Loerstadt Gate paid for at least half of my favoured ruby slippers.

“A warming sight,” I said as I wistfully recalled the shoes I’d left behind. “And also reassuring. Why, I see no frantic call to arms, nor looting of my kingdom’s travel memorabilia. Could it be that the rumours of troubles at the border were overstated … ?”

It was a thought I allowed myself to indulge in for no less than a heartbeat.

Indeed, for more than the grave expressions of my soldiers as they manned the battlements, patrolled the roads and haggled over the price of cheesecakes that I had absolutely no interest in but would still eat if Coppelia insisted, there also existed something which functioned only as a crow upon a deadened tree. 

It was the tolling in the distance. The black clouds painting the horizon. The ill omen in the wind.

Yes … it was that.

 

Adventurer’s Guild

Loerstadt Gate Branch

 

So few words.

Yet so much pain.

Devaluing the worth of the legitimate businesses in its proximity like the wart it was, the Loerstadt Gate’s branch of the Adventurer’s Guild consisted only of an open window counter and a sign larger than the establishment. The entire premises was squeezed between two storefronts.

“Coppelia.”

“Mmh?~”

“Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me.”

“Your eyes are deceiving you.”

“Excellent. Then let’s continue.”

“Okay. But what about the Adventurer’s Guild? Hey, there’s an Adventurer’s Guild here. Did you know? Look. It’s here. Right here. The Adventurer’s Guild. Isn’t that amazing? You have the safest and most defended wall in your kingdom, filled with soldiers and very overpriced souvenirs. And yet for some reason, there’s still an Adventurer’s Guild here. Isn’t that just amaaaaazing?”

Coppelia skipped as she spoke, occasionally darting in front of Apple as she waved her smile in front of both our faces.

I tugged on Apple’s reins, commanding him to sneeze.

He didn’t.

“Why,” I began, with neither the will nor the means to glean any sense from the senseless. “Why is the Adventurer’s Guild here … ?”

“You can always ask them.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Bet you do~”

“No. I don’t want to give them that satisfaction.”

“Nobody’s judging you.”

“I’m judging me.”

Coppelia’s giggling assailed my ears. She pirouetted on the spot to vent her amusement, then nudged her head towards the waiting window counter infesting a part of the Loerstadt Gate’s wall like damp mould.

“You want to know what’s going on, this seems like a good place to find out, right? Right, right, right? I mean, I guess you can bother the soldiers instead or knock on Prince …”

“Tristan.”

“That’s the one! You can knock on Prince Charming’s door instead.”

I raised an eyebrow at Tristan being referred to as Prince Charming.

Though certainly charismatic in his own way, he was a man indentured towards his role as a commander of our soldiers from an early age. I had little doubt that few here would baulk at the idea of him smiling away as Roland did so easily. 

“I will knock on Tristan’s door when necessary,” I said, already filled with remorse as I tugged Apple towards the guild’s … hole in the wall. “Unlike these louts wallowing in whatever puddle of alcohol they stumble upon, he takes his duties seriously. Enough that he’d send me back to the Royal Villa with all his knights than to accept my assistance.”

Indeed, while I could rely upon Florella and Clarise to offer me some sisterly discretion in my noble quest to ensure our continued livelihoods, I had little doubt both my brothers would rather see me attending to my regular tasks in ensuring the comfort of our grass.  

And soon, perhaps I would.

After all–

“Shhnnn … ssshhhnnn … shhnnnn …”

Were the Loerstadt Gate truly imperilled, even parasites would flee.

Instead, this one merely sat behind a window, her crinkled attire and drooling face filling up what little space there was as she merrily slept in her seat. A woman in the prime of her disheveledness, she encapsulated all that the Adventurer’s Guild strove for, having transitioned entirely from human to insect.

“Look, Coppelia.”

“I’m looking~”

“See this. This embodiment of sloth. A barnacle feeding on my kingdom’s air. This is what I must deal with. A plague calling themselves adventurers, whose only purpose is to suck the crowns from my subjects while scarcely able to lift a finger to even feed themselves.”

I leaned forwards from my saddle and tapped at the wooden counter with my fingertip. A gesture I didn’t do lightly. The speed at which servants rushed to answer my whims was off-set by the broken ankles as the slowest were naturally pushed aside.

The woman stirred, her eyes suddenly blinking open as though pried apart by the strength of my presence.

Even so, she gave a yawn, then made an attempt at sitting up straight.

“Oh, afternoon,” she said with a lazy smile, wiping the drool from her mouth. “Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild. How can I help?”

“By being conscious. And even that is debatable.”

“Ahaha. True. I mean, I may as well just snooze for a bit more. It’s such a nice afternoon for it. All bees and birds in the sky and … no? Okay, I see the death stare. Wow, that’s a mean one. But just so you know, it’s quite a bit into the best part of the afternoon, and, well, maybe you didn’t see the smaller sign, but I’m actually on my lunch break.”

“Your lunch break?”

The woman pointed at a little plaque on the counter.

I promptly flicked it over.

“The Adventurer’s Guild does not take lunch breaks,” I said pointedly. “I remind you that you work at the behest of the kingdom, answering every menial request and lowly task even in the midst of your dreams. Any disruption of service without exemplary reason is cause for severe reprimand, both by the kingdom and by the guild.”

The woman blinked.

Then, she sat up again. Properly, this time.

“T-True! Of course I’m always available. They didn’t make me guildmaster of the kingdom’s smallest branch just because no one else wanted it, ahaha … aha … ha …”

Her laugh trailed off. As did the last of her lazy smile. It was replaced by the edge of her lips offering a nervous twitch as she glanced forlornly to the side.

I offered approximately no sympathy. I was only sad I couldn’t give less.

“... And why, exactly, does the Loerstadt Gate require a branch of any size? Surely, there’s no work to be done here. Why, this is the safest part of the kingdom! Not even a fruit slime can be found here.”

“Well, safe is a bit subjective … but even if there aren’t any fruit slimes, there’s still plenty of work.”

“There’s an entire garrison of guards here.”

“Yup, and they make the best customers.”

The woman braved another smile at me. It swiftly fell away again.

“You cannot possibly mean to say that guards have tabby cats which need rescuing.”

“Oh, not at all. They’re more than capable of finding their own. Getting the correct brand of cat food for them, on the other hand, is different. The shops here are geared towards tourists. For more specialist things, they come to us.”

“... Excuse me?”

“I have a few adventurers dedicated to shopping runs all over. This branch might be the smallest, but the income definitely isn’t. Especially with the weekly deals we put out!”

I wrinkled my nose.

Yet again, this association of parasites made it clear that nothing was sacred to them. If they could squeeze crowns from wailing infants in their cots, they would. 

Instead, they were content to claw at the pockets of my kingdom’s defenders like peddlers in an alley.

The sheer opportunism was shameless. And if I could remove the need for even one additional guard here, I would do so gladly. Especially when they were always needed elsewhere. Half the problems in my kingdom wouldn’t exist if their watchful eyes could be sent to watch the backs of the nobility instead. 

“Ahem … may I ask the nature of your visit today?”

“Yes. I’m here to solve everything.”

“Hmm?”

“News of skirmishes at the border. Do you have information pertaining to this, perhaps gleaned during your short waking hours?”

The woman blinked. Coppelia pointed towards me.

“She’s a C-rank adventurer.”

“Huh? … Oh, oh my!” A pair of dozing eyes finally awakened. “Goodness, I had no idea! The way you were speaking, the way you dress and, well, the way you look sort of mean as if you think I’m not even human … wow, it doesn’t make you seem like an adventurer in the slightest!”

My mouth opened in shock. 

Why, I had no idea anyone from the Adventurer’s Guild could make such tasteful compliments!

“In that case, welcome to the Loerstadt Gate branch … uh, again. Tressa Hopkins. Guildmaster. I’ll be honest, I’m not used to seeing any adventurers who aren’t my own. Especially C-ranks. You guys are a fairly rare breed in this kingdom.”

“Then allow me to assure you that my pedigree is the rarest of all. Now, please explain what is occurring at the Loerstadt Gate.”

The woman paused. 

For a moment, she almost looked surprised at the tone of my query. She shouldn’t, of course. She may be a guildmaster, but upon the social ladder we all climbed, I was unable to discern between her and the fallen lunch plaque.  

Her eyes swept over me once more, before falling upon the copper ring disgracing not only my finger, but Apple’s reins and anything else it touched.

Then–she gave a shrug.

“Trouble,” she began simply. “There’s been trouble in the forest beyond the gate. More than usual. Unknown assailants have been striking at patrols before slinking away. The healers had to set up a field tent at one point. The lucky ones had burns all over. The unlucky ones had arrows. And not in the nicest of places, either.”

My grip tightened around Apple’s reins.

Even knowing that there was conflict at the border, to hear any words confirming this beggared belief.

The borders between nations were ever a volatile place. And there existed no lack of malefactors who would use it to their advantage. But to brazenly assault soldiers wearing the colours of my kingdom? Even with my lack of familiarity, it sounded ridiculous.

“I see … and who are these cowardly assailants said to be?”

The woman shrugged.

“Take your pick. The forest beyond the gate has always been lawless. It could be anything from professional soldiers to moronic bandits to fruit slimes who have learned how to shoot arrows. Most think it’s Granholtz testing the kingdom’s response. They’re too good. And now I don’t have any adventurers buying cat food from Granholtz. Travel in and out of the gate is heavily restricted.”

I frowned.

The Grand Duchy of Granholtz and its holdings have never lacked for reasons to be antagonistic. Yet even so, this went far beyond the sabre rattling of heavy handed diplomacy and a single shattered glass of Châteaux Liran-Tuilhem de Vin Lingot at the Royal Villa’s reception.

Curious.

The Grand Duchess was many things. Yet she was a spider, through and through. And this was neither subtle nor wise. Could she have truly grown so bold that she’d challenge my kingdom’s resolve with such brash impudence?

“Very well. And what has been my … What has been Prince Tristan’s response?”

The guildmaster’s lazy smile returned.

“Prince Tristan is doing what Prince Tristan does. He’s gone out with his knights to scour the forest, wielding both his sword and his fury. A strong leader. But it takes more than valour to find shadows which slip away unseen.”

I nodded. Though rare to share a sentiment with a commoner, our views on Tristan were the same in this regard.

He was a strong leader. And so too did that make his response … as well as what I must do to help him.

“Understood. Then I shall simply root out the shadows.”

The woman blinked.

“Huh?”

I nodded with utmost confidence at the task ahead of me.

Indeed, my brother was highly capable, diligent and charismatic. Yet what he required wasn’t a sword.

He needed a star. 

“Rejoice, guildmaster, for you and all who reside here may rest in the knowledge that no matter which far flung corner of the kingdom the shadows seek to flee to, my presence will drag their ashes into the light.”

“Um … I should say that the kingdom has issued no commission about discerning the identity of those involved … nor dragging their ashes into any light.”

“And what relevance does a commission have exactly?”

“Excuse me?”

“When the first companions unfurled the banner of brotherhood now seen within each disgustingly sticky common room, they did not do so under the auspices of a commissioner. Far in the past, when valour was its own reward, adventurers did more than doze in the afternoon and ride kegs of ale using their derrière. This kingdom is imperilled, its border made hostage to shadows beneath the eaves. And so long as a single blade of grass is darkened, all should strive to meet them regardless of how many crowns await for it.”

The woman behind the counter opened her mouth slightly, though no words came out.

Then, at last, her eyes shone with a newly invigorated colour.

With neither any hint of sleepiness nor remnants of drool, she sat as tall as any receptionist as her demeanour changed. 

“There is a related commission which might interest you,” she said, her voice clear and business-like. “Not issued by the kingdom, but by a local tradeswoman. A missing person request concerning a recent attack. I’ve already informed her that none of my adventurers were high enough rank to assist her, but should you wish to investigate the border region beyond the gate, she may be able to provide assistance.”

“Excellent. And where might I find her?”

As swiftly as it came, her moment of redemption faltered as a crease of hesitancy made itself known upon her face.

“Before I tell you, I should really mention that while your attitude is commendable, it’s probably wisest to not get involved. To attack soldiers is not the work of common bandits, and I’ve visited the Rensdraldt Fortress on the other side enough times to know that Granholtz isn’t interested in a war. Most of them, at least. Something else is going on. Something the guild won’t want to get into. There’s subterfuge in the air. It’d be best to … uh?”

To the shock of the woman before me, I raised my hand to my lips, barely covering my smile as my mirth immediately revealed itself.

Ohhohohoho … subterfuge?

Really now. I dealt with subterfuge while eating breakfast. Even the garnishing on the omelettes served to me was a coded point with ramifications far beyond the dining table. 

And my answer was always the same.

To toss it beneath the table.

My response to anyone who chose to test the dignity of my kingdom would be no different. Except for one notable addition. 

They would also have the added benefit of my boot of authority.

After all, it’d been a long journey to the edge of my kingdom.

And my soles had yet to find a welcoming mat.