Percival was a man of many talents. It was clear he was a hard worker. He held an aura befitting a trained warrior-- as Albert’s initial analysis had deduced. He also carried enough charisma to become the life of any group he was in, as evident by our prior visit to the bar. The man meshed well with everyone, and I could add medical knowledge to his giant list of qualifications.     

“You’re not sore? Or tired? What about your muscles? Any discomfort? Tension?” Percival’s questions came like wildfire. He almost overwhelmed Momo when he asked to do a quick exam—under Nimyra's supervision. 

“Just a little tired, I guess,” Momo said, sticking out her tongue. She wasn’t lying. Mental stress is quite different from physical exhaustion. Even an immortal could suffer from it. “I stretched this morning. Oh, I felt a pop or two, but I feel good.” She couldn’t say she felt totally fine. From Percival’s point of view, Momo had just…stopped reacting or responding for over a day. So she had to ‘play a role’ to keep up appearances.     

“That’s normal, but please don’t overdo it,” Percival replied, standing up.    

After concluding that she was, for the most part, healthy without any side effects from her sudden unconsciousness, we finally sat down for breakfast. Momo’s eyes watered at tasting the fat sausage as Carrie delicately cut Olga’s eggs for her. The young girl couldn’t stop hugging Momo. Merka wrote that he was happy Momo was feeling better. She rubbed their heads and thanked them.     

The nun was in a fantastic mood. After lying in bed, Carrie sent her soul into the ring to spend the midnight evening with Itarr and Verta. My goddess taught a class on their phones, so they were caught up to speed on everything they could do.   

“Any plans for today?” Nimyra asked, pouring me a cup of coffee. Her ears happily twitched as she hummed a pleasant melody. Momo’s nose scrunched at the earthly scent as she reached for the creamy sugar. She poured some, then gently blew on her cup while stirring it. The steam tickled her lips. 

“The homestead, I guess. Want to help us, Carrie?”   

“If it isn’t a bother,” replied the nun.     

“It’ll never be one. Right, Servi?” Itarr looked my way. I nodded. 

“Oh, can you arrange a meeting with the duchess? We have something to ask her. It’s about the orphanage.”   

Percival made a concerned look. He probably wondered how we became such close friends after the disastrous first meeting. “They say men become friends through fists and women through words, so who am I to judge?” Percival shrugged. “I’ll arrange a meeting for tonight.” He scarfed down his breakfast, then left.    

I called Fisher and Albert, who they said they’d meet us at the guild. The two had been roaming all night. We soon left. Olga was coming with us. Merka wheeled her along as we traveled through the early morning streets.    

My revenants were beside the guild. Momo asked how Fisher was, and he felt much better. “More relief than anything,” he said. “It’s not all there. Not yet. It may never be there. But I wish to look forward to dawn than expect dusk.”   

“That’s a fine answer.”   

I knew the two had talked last night. Maybe Fisher heard whatever he needed from a former singi, but he looked more put-together.     

“I’m kinda glad Claire didn’t show up yesterday. She didn’t have to see me unconscious. I don’t think her poor heart could take it, so let’s not say anything.”   

“Good idea,” said Itarr as we entered the guild. Claire was working, so we chatted with her. There weren’t too many people, so this was fine.  

“Anyway, I’m heading to the homestead for another report, so I’ll see you guys later. Dineria baked some cookies, so I’ll bring those. Maybe I can snag her, too.”   

Momo’s stomach growled. “Ehehe... I always have extra room for sweets. Especially if Dineria made them.” 

Carrie was busy talking to someone near the corner, whom she later introduced as Adom. He was a frugal man—at least judging by his ragged attire. I didn’t think he had a dupla to his name, but he was hired to work at the orphanage like Carrie.  

Together, we departed for the homestead.     

*****

---

*****

After a long day of working hard, Momo and I were in the duchess’s living room. Percival stood behind her chair with a cool, calm smile. A maid had just brought in a tray of tea and a plate of scrumptious cookies for us to enjoy before quietly departing.   

“I’ve heard about your sudden illness, Momo. It did frighten me, but I’m thankful you’ve recovered. However, to work under the grueling sun for twelve hours? Consider me impressed at your work ethic, although please don’t push yourself.”   

Momo was nervous about meeting someone so important when she was, in her own words, a country bumpkin. She timidly snacked on a sweet biscuit while trying to find her words.     

“It’s umm… It’s…nothing at all. I mean, I… Oh, geez…” Momo cursed under her breath. She’d be a sweaty mess if she could perspire.    

“Is it that difficult to speak to me?” asked Duchess Ashford. “You didn’t find it troubling when Lord Flynn was present during your interrogation.”    

“No, it’s… I… You…see… That was different.”   

“What Momo’s trying to say, Duchess Ashford, is that her mind was focused elsewhere. Our interview wasn’t about pleasure. It was business to decide our fate. This is different. Momo’s more relaxed, which means her nervousness has returned.”   

“Oh, my? Is that true?”   

“Umm… Ki—Kinda? It’s…”    

Duchess Ashford laughed behind her hand. Momo’s tail froze stiff. “Forgive me, but your attitude is adorably refreshing. Please, Momo. There is no need to fear a chat cladded in a cloak of casualness. We both share this land. We both have blood running through our bodies. Our only difference is the title bestowed upon my family. That is what separates the nobility from the commoners. Remove that? You’ll find we are more alike than you would think.”   

“You surprise me more every time I see you,” I added. The duchess flashed a smile.    

“Percival said you had a request for me? What would that be? I shall do whatever I can if it is within my power.”   

“It’s about the orphanage… Have you decided on a name?” Momo asked, finding her courage after taking a sip of her tea.     

“We have. It shall be called the Second Chance Sanctuary.”   

Momo’s ears drooped. The duchess asked why, and Momo stammered before finding her voice.     

“Well—Well, I knew this boy. His name was Oskar…” Momo recanted a false story to fit the situation, but the meaning was genuine. Merka and Olga had no idea we were doing this.     

“I see… Oskar, Patty, and the others… The homestead has a name, but the individual buildings must have a title. I suppose the fields need something too. Percival?”    

“I see no problem with it. The names are pleasant. Their spirits shall live on even after passing,” replied the bodyguard.    

“It has your approval?” Percival said it did. “Then it’s settled. I shall send a letter to the plaque maker with the chosen names. I estimate it will be delivered within the fortnight.”   

“That soon?!” Momo exclaimed. “Don’t you have to discuss it with someone? Isn’t the guild partly funding it?”   

“They are. But they did not purchase any naming rights. The decision is mine, and I have made my choice. I pray that Oskar and his siblings will find comfort from the grave, knowing their names shall protect the less fortunate. We have high hopes for the orphanage, you know.” Duchess Ashford carried a cup to her soft lips. Steam was still coming from the tea. “It is also a token of forgiveness. My cousin has neglected this city for far too long. His mistakes will be remedied. In time, and I’ve told Servi this, we wish to tear down the slums and expand them as part of the casual district. There is no reason a city as wealthy as Canary should have a divide so great as it is. The same can be said of the Kingdom of Lando as a whole.”   

“That’s a noble goal,” I replied. “But I fear it’s too idyllic. Have you a proper plan? I recall we’ve spoken about this the last time I talked with you.”   

“That…is still in the planning phase,” admitted the duchess.    

“Working backward never hurts. Someone wise beyond their years once told me that.”    

Duchess Ashford smiled. “Yes, you’re absolutely correct. Since you two are here… I have a request.”   

“For us?” Momo asked.     

“While I do not understand the methods behind your rings, I would like to formally hire Butterfly Rumble to assist with the Slums Rebuilding Project whenever it is officially announced. You will be handsomely paid for your work. This goodwill shall work in your favor.”   

Momo and I didn’t mind. We’d be happy to help, but something didn’t make sense. I asked the duchess when she thought work would start, and she said before the end of the year.    

Then it hit me.    

It wasn’t winter yet.    

It was still autumn.    

We had about four months until the new year, so would I remain on house arrest until then?   

What about Srassa?   

I asked those questions. Duchess Ashford showcased a frown I didn't like. “The council is still convening,” she said. “I send reports via spirit messengers. They are aware of how much you’ve suffered during your time here. They also know of the endless hours you, your friends, and your spirits have poured into the orphanage. As for Lady Flynn? Her father tells me that she is to remain near him. Recall that someone broke into the castle to steal the gifts you constructed for her.”   

“They felt that they can’t offer the same protection here?” I asked, biting a sweet biscuit.    

It should’ve been delicious, but I barely tasted it. It felt like eating solidified water.     

“That’s correct. It is far too risky for Srassa to be without the kingdom’s finest soldiers within a stone’s throw. Would you like to send a message? Perhaps Lord Flynn has been too busy, but I'll ensure it gets delivered.” We nodded. Percival gave us quills, ink, and paper, and Momo and I wrote two letters to our best friend. The duchess’s bodyguard took them to a nearby desk, placed them in envelopes, and sealed them using wax bearing the Ashford Family’s emblem.  “About this Saline... I’ll investigate her whereabouts.”   

“Thank you so much. Those two mean a lot to us. My heart won’t rest until I know they’re safe.”   

As the night progressed, Momo calmed down. She stopped stuttering when she realized she had no reason to be timid. Trepidation didn’t need to corrupt her heart because the duchess was a duchess.    

It was getting late, so we didn't want to overstay our welcome. “Thank you so much for doing this,” Momo said when we were escorted outside. “The snacks were super delish.”   

“I’m glad you found them delectable, Momo. I shall have more prepared for next time.” The duchess had a maid fetch a wagon, which was pulled around in just a few minutes. We set off for the Crimson Grotto while Pretty Boy Percival remained behind to give his report. 

*****

---

*****

“How many immortals are we dealing with?” Qina asked once she and her brother returned to the living room. She threw away her duchess persona and sprawled on the couch before yanking off her heels.    

“At least four. Servi, Itarr, Momo, and Albert. We believe Finn to be one, but we don’t have any proof,” replied Claus, rubbing his sister’s exhausted head.    

“Have you any leads on him?”   

“A few. I know Finn ran away from Marissa and her daughters. I know children can be shy, but he did that twice. Since we’re dealing with a goddess... Servi killed Fisher…” 

“Is he a revenant?”   

“He has the green eyes. Drilling into Dineria’s seals with Itarr here isn't worth it. Albert’s perception has only grown since he evolved, too."  

“Why would Servi bring back her enemy? If Finn is Fisher, that is… If only we knew what truly happened in Arcton. Those mountains...”   

“Well, we know Itarr caused them to vanish. There are verifiable reports of an undead army laying siege to the city. They may be related, but I’m concerned about her…” Claus told his sister how unnaturally fast Carrie became friends with Servi even though the nun bolted from the apartment the day before.  

Something had to have happened.    

Just what was the connection between them?    

“I asked Adam and Golden Reliquary about Carrie. Information was difficult to find, but she’s from a mountain village.” Qina sighed and said she had received records from a religion worshipping a goddess named Verta. “While it started with good intentions... It quickly became a corrupted cult. The elders would make up stories. They’d choose young girls to serve as priestesses to help ‘exhaust’ the lustful demons inhabiting the men.”   

“How revolting…”   

“I agree.” Qina continued, saying a woman named Carrie was eventually bought by the latest elder to serve as a mother for his daughter, Vali, who was chosen as the new priestess. Apparently, he had received angry letters remarking that the men still felt demons between their knees because the priestess had given up. He wanted to fill her with life to make her react, so he conducted this plan.    

The village was isolated atop a flat mountain, days away from anyone else. It didn’t have a guild office. Skill Tablets were seen as divine gifts from the goddess. Those without them were deemed inferior and forced to serve those who could manifest them.    

“Carrie suffered from a disease that locked her limbs, immobilizing her at random times. It assailed her during a fight with orcs. She went down. Her party followed. She was the only one saved by a group of passing adventurers with less-than-noble intentions,” Qina continued. She slipped off her stockings, wincing at the sores on her soles. Her brother fetched the lotion before massaging them, kneeling like the famous soldier from The Barnacle Knight.    

His hands were experienced at this. Qina felt her worries fade like dew in the hot sun. She resumed her debriefing. “As far as we can tell, Carrie discovered the truth about the village cult. She taught Vali how to use magic because Verta had blessed the girl. Wrath took her over, and she massacred the village. We theorized she almost perished.”   

“What about the village?”   

“It’s gone. Vanished. Wiped away.”   

“Like the Arcton Mountain Range?”   

“Exactly. There’s a crater left in its place where it used to be. I don’t think it's deeper than the one left behind by Itarr, but we can be sure that Carrie is somehow related. If Verta manifested, then maybe she shares a soul with her? Or is Verta pretending to be Carrie?”   

“Perhaps. Although the crater could be from Verta’s soul inhabiting Vali’s body. We don’t know for sure that physical manifestation causes the explosions. But wait, did Vali take Carrie’s name?”   

Qina nodded. She leaned back, enjoying the massage more than she ought to have. “That’s the assumption if Verta isn’t pretending to be Vali. If we assume Carrie—her real name is Vali— and Verta are like Servi and Itarr, their fast friendship makes sense. The two share a common theme. Yet if that’s true... There could be more like them-- people sharing souls with the divines. Maybe a few have even manifested. They may be roaming the land. Ugh, I’m too tired to send a report… Mmnn… That’s the spot…”   

“Well, someone’s enjoying this. Maybe a little too much?” Claus added a little force and tickled. His sister inadvertently jerked her foot, kicking him in the nose.     

“Geez! I told you not to do that!” She healed the damage immediately. That smug, confident smile never left his face.    

“Let’s say it’s a wound worth showing.”   

“No. It isn’t, you dummy.”   

“We shall agree to disagree, sister.”   

“Mmph!” Qina crossed her arms and looked away with a huff. Claus grabbed her hand and escorted her to their bedroom, leaving the heels behind. They went to the exotic bathtub after he suggested a bath.    

After filling the tub, the siblings unrobed and entered the watery wonderland. Qina leaned against her brother’s broad, muscled chest. She hugged her knees, wondering why every day couldn’t be like this moment.    

She had more to say about Vali, Carrie, and Verta, but Qina was unusually meek.   

How did Adam and Golden Reliquary get this information? How did they do it so quickly? She knew their father’s influence stretched across the world. Keywater had its ‘hand in the cookie jar,’ but that jar was almost every major country that could pose even the most insignificant threat to its progress.   

“You’ve always pushed the difficult tasks to me.” Claus washed his sister’s hair. “It isn’t easy living with monsters.”   

“You’re the oh-so-dependable Barnacle Knight. There’s nothing you can’t handle.” Qina lightly scratched his knee with her nails. “That was true then. It’s true now,” she said, her voice a whisper. 

“Your grace, Princess Penelope, is most welcome!”   

Qina frowned before sighing. Claus told her to close her eyes as he dipped her below the water to wash away the suds.    

 

Sunlight. Moonlight. Sleet or snow's embrace,  

In every weather's kiss, your beauty thrives.  

A love profound, time's tide can ne'er erase,  

My heart for you, like oceans, ever strives.  

  

With every dawn that heralds a new morn,  

You shine, a beacon in this world so dark.  

Your grace, like silver sails upon the storm,  

Guides this lost ship across a sea so stark.  

  

Though Barnacle Knight's fate may be to wane,  

My love for you, Princess, shall never fade.  

Through tempest's rage or gentle summer rain,  

In your sweet memory, my soul's anchored, stayed.  

  

A love like ours in every season shines,  

In your embrace, forever, my heart twines.  

  

He whispered the lines from his favorite play and wrapped his arms around her stomach when he sat her up. “I know it’s hard, but you’re doing an amazing job. Go ahead. Let it out. I’ll hold you until your heart’s empty.”  

Qina didn’t want to cry. She had to be strong. She didn’t like feeling like this when she was powerful enough to be a member of the Twin Captains of the imperial guard.    

Dragons had been slain by her magic.    

Necromancers had their lives snuffed out—their phylactery pierced by her excellent swordplay.    

She was the Bane of Giants!  

The siblings had delved deep into the labyrinth below Lando’s Nail! They had conquered what the Nail had allowed.   

She should’ve been the epitome of strength.   

The weak should cry.  

But not her…  

She wasn’t weak.  

She vowed to never be that weak girl again.   

So…  

Why did she cry?  

Why did she only revert to a frightened little girl when she was in her brother’s arms?  

She buried her head in Claus’s chest and wailed until her heart’s throes had ended. She shivered and shook, but those large, muscled hands supported the one he loved the most.   

He finished bathing her after her teary eyes closed and dressed her in her favorite nightgown.  After tucking Qina in, he crawled into bed beside her, held her hand, and stared at her face.    

“You have too much on your shoulders,” he whispered. “Father should’ve commanded me to be the new duke. As much as you’d disagree, you know it in your heart that the task suits me more.”  

His sister was only ever able to rest after a night like tonight. Sleep wasn’t…something she enjoyed that much. It was rarely ever restful.    

“You were supposed to be the diplomatic one, you know.” He rubbed her palms and smiled. “Leave it to me to craft the perfect situation. It won’t be long until you ask Servi to travel to Keywater. I know…what you’re thinking. I’m thinking about it too. It’ll hurt. But it needs to happen. That woman… Our mother isn’t in there. She’s been dead for years. We can’t keep clinging to her. Father won’t be able to hold that noose anymore once…we do this.”  

Claus shuffled closer. He embraced his sister, exposing a microscopic amount of weakness himself.   

It would be fine to leave Servi alone, right?  

Just one little night wouldn’t hurt. There was only so much he could do without arousing suspicion. Claus knew he had tiptoed across that fine line a dozen times.   

But that was who he was.  

The ever-dependable Sir Percival—the fearless Barnacle Knight who succeeded in a fool’s errand and saved Princess Penelope.   

Would Percival’s story end the same way?  

“I love you…” He closed his eyes.   

Tomorrow would be yet another day.  

He had to prepare his mask—just like his sister.