Dion Dreams

Part A: Vestigial Dreams Unfading

Once upon a time, there was a knight known as the empire’s finest. His name was Dion Alaia, and he served the Great Sage of the Empire, Mia Luna Tearmoon, as one of her most trusted vassals, utilizing his peerless skills to their full potential. Alas, after his master succumbed to the ravages of poison, he resigned from the army and disappeared without a trace. Thus, the “Reaper,” hailed as a demon both on and off the battlefield, feared for his prowess by friend and foe — a veritable pillar of his realm and era — vanished from the stage of history. His enduring absence was confounding to many, persisting even through the civil war that rent the empire in two. Dion Alaia, one whose name had become synonymous with violence and bloodshed, who purportedly craved a good fight more than either sleep or nourishment, seemed to have disavowed himself of conflict entirely and retreated to a life of secluded obscurity.

His return to the worldly stage would occur in the form of a fierce clash on the southern side of the Tearmoon Empire when, while accompanying the last princess of the imperial lineage Miabel Luna Tearmoon, he fought tooth and nail to defend her from the cavalry of the Holy Aquarian Army as it swept rapidly northward. It would go down in history as the Battle of Lunant Bridge.

And it would be where the “Reaper” made his last stand.

Tucked away in a corner of the Berman Viscounty’s capital was a small tavern. Despite its shabby interior, which bordered on dilapidated in places, business was brisk. Juxtaposed against the dingy ambience was the boisterous drinking of many men. Their silvering hair spoke to their age, while the various scarred cheeks and prosthetic eyes marked them as veterans of the battlefield. To a man, the old soldiers were armor-clad, their leathers and plates showing the unmistakable signs of long-standing service.

Suddenly, the tavern’s doors swung open. An old man stepped through its frame, twin swords hanging from his waist. The eyes peering through his wizened lids lacked not for sharpness, and the simple silence of his standing form was enough to impart an imposing air that pressed on their flesh as surely as any physical pressure. Instinctive vigilance was apparent in his stance — the hallmark of an experienced warrior, and his entrance elicited a round of cheers from the aged tavern-goers.

“Hey, Captain Dion! Showed up at last, eh? Figured you would! Been a damn long while! We’ve missed you something fierce!”

The twin-sworded veteran rolled his eyes at the glib greeting.

“Well I’ll be damned. I thought for sure the civil war would have done you old bone-sacks in for good.”

“Heh, nope. We all followed your lead, Captain, and retired to the countryside. Ever since Her Highness’s passing, there’s been no wars worth fighting,” said one of the soldiers before elbowing a buddy with a smirk. “And see him? His kid got married recently. This old bastard might become a grandfather soon, you know?”

The elbowed man showed no sign of displeasure, instead grinning from ear to reddened ear. An atmosphere of warm joviality permeated the tavern. There was much laughter and good cheer — too much, perhaps, for a group of men who were about to knowingly march to their deaths.

“Bloody hell, can’t you lot just wait out your time in bed like everybody else?”

Dion scowled, but his heart wasn’t in it, and it failed to fool his compatriots.

“Led by the empire’s finest, to fight for Princess Mia, the Great Sage of the Empire... fight for her cause. That’s the kind of battle we live for. The kind we’d die for. It’s a dream come true, Captain, and you can bet we’ll damn well swim back up the river of Hell to get another piece of the action.”

There wasn’t a hint of irony in the old soldier’s tone, only candid enthusiasm. Dion shook his head, his tone turning pensive.

“A dream come true, huh...”

It was so trite, and yet, so true.

I think he’s right. I’ve been living a dream, and on it goes...

It had, he decided, been a good dream. One in which his very soul had soared alongside the Great Sage of the Empire. And now that fleeting fantasia was back for one final coda — a vestigial dream, stubbornly unfading.

Dion regarded his weathered hands. Time waited for no man. He’d known he was already waist deep in his grave; he just didn’t think there’d be so much action left before they sealed him in. There was a humor to it all that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Bloody hell. I think I’m getting sentimental. I really am too old for this.

He planted himself in a chair, grabbed the liquor served to him, and tossed back a big gulp. The pungent fumes rushed up his nose, hitting the inside of his head with a hot, exhilarating wallop. He did not take a second swig. The first was a fix; the second would be folly. Such dreams were precious. It’d be a waste if he couldn’t savor it with a clear head.

“Now then, let’s talk business, men. Not that there’s much to it. Glory tends to be in short supply when it comes to missions suitable for a bunch of boneheads who missed their cue to exit stage left.” He looked across the gray heads dotting the tavernscape. “You stubborn lot just refused to croak, huh?”

His tone evoked the Dion of days past, who still brimmed with youth. For a moment, he was distracted by a vision of faces he’d known, and his thoughts turned to the other cohort — the even stubborner lot who had croaked. Staying true to their charge and station, they’d fought in the civil war, and perished doing so. Even his vice-captain, whose prowess nearly equaled his own, was absent from the tavern today. His grimmer counterpart, it seemed, was loathe to grant leave, as always.

You’re missing out on one hell of a party, you poor sods. Luck just wasn’t on your side, was it?

In his mind, he poured one out for his compatriots who’d already reached the end of the story. Then he turned back to those whose stories were still being written.

“Our mission, men, is one of escort. We shall protect Her Highness Princess Miabel, orphan and heir to our late princess, and ensure no harm befalls her on the journey to Lunatear.”

“Where is Her Highness now?”

“She departed the domain of Outcount Rudolvon in the south to take refuge in Princess Mia’s personal domain. To the best of my knowledge, she is currently in Princess Town.”

The civil war that split the Four Dukes into two opposing factions also pressured the rest of the nobility into making their allegiances clear. In spite of such hostile circumstances, the Rudolvons took neither side, proclaiming allegiance to none but Princess Mia herself. Viscount Berman, whose realm housed the princess’s personal domain, sang the same tune. As a result, Sealence Forest and its surrounding regions remained free from conflict for some time, the flickering peace like a final, fading afterglow of the Great Sage’s incandescent spirit.

Ultimately, the brief respite was just that — brief. Rafina, the Empress Prelate, soon sent her forces northward, breaching the empire’s borders from the south. The Rudolvon domain, which bore the brunt of the invasion, was quickly overrun by the Holy Aquarian Army. Ever since Mia’s death, Miabel had been living under the Rudolvons’ care. Thanks to their selfless sacrifices, she managed to escape by the skin of her teeth and took refuge in the Berman Viscounty. However, the Holy Aquarian Army wasted no time catching up, and it wasn’t long before her pursuers were bearing down on her once again.

“Plenty of people these days consider the imperial lineage to be an eyesore. Unless we can find a noble that we know for sure is on our side, Lunatear is pretty much our only safe haven,” continued Dion.

Nobody had gone as far as to advocate razing the capital to the ground. After all, for the eventual winner of this power struggle, a cindered throne seemed a highly unpleasant trophy.

“Yeah, I get it now. Princess Mia’s still popular in the older districts. It’s a good place for Her Highness to hide.”

“Speaking optimistically, anyway,” qualified Dion. “The truth is that absolute safety is no longer guaranteed anywhere in the empire, and I’d bet my teeth that any shelter we find within its borders will be short-lived.”

He let out a sardonic chuckle before emptying his cup.

“Of course, that’s the kind of concern that’s above our pay grade. The problems we worry about tend to be ones you can cut with a sword. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?” he scanned the room with a grin full of humor, but eyes of command. “Let us proceed then.”

The room of once-and-again soldiers emptied their cups as well. Then, in perfect unison, they marched out of the tavern with their captain toward the Princess Guard’s final battle.

After arriving at Princess Town and successfully making contact with Miabel, the Dion retinue began their trek toward the capital with the princess in tow. Their members, though grizzled, were undoubtedly elites. They were possessed of masterful swordsmanship and flawless teamwork, along with the unbendable resolve of men who considered themselves already dead. At the same time, there was a lifeful tenacity to them, born of a fierce desire to savor this Elysian dream for as long as possible. They did not fear death, but they were more than happy to keep it waiting.

Over and over, they fought off the furious assault of the Holy Aquarian Army while retreating northward. Faced with a pursuing force ten times their size, their numbers steadily dwindled, but they stubbornly evaded capture, eventually making it all the way to the outskirts of the imperial capital where a great river flowed.

Before them stretched the Lunant Bridge.

“Hmph. Well, it’s the end of the line, men. Doesn’t look like we can shake them off any longer,” said Dion, who spat on the ground in displeasure before narrowing his eyes at the looming dust clouds in the distance.

Elites though they were, the enemy’s numerical advantage was ultimately overwhelming. Eight old soldiers stood at the foot of the bridge. Aside from Dion, the rest wore more wounds than fabric.

“Lucky for us, there’s a river and we’re holding the bridge. Doesn’t get much better than this for buying time. Excuse me, Your Highness.”

He reached forward, placing his hands on Miabel’s waist, and dismounted with her. Then he motioned over two of his grizzled survivors. By some odd coincidence, they happened to be the very guards who’d followed Mia into the Sealence Forest so many years ago.

“Listen up. When I give the order, the two of you are going to start riding toward the capital, and under no circumstances are you to stop. Take all our horses with you. Run ’em into the ground if necessary. I don’t care if it’s on the horses’ legs or your own, but you’re gonna put as much distance between you and this bridge as possible.”

“But...”

The two were left speechless, reluctant to resist and reluctant to obey. Dion bared his teeth in a fierce grin.

“The rest of us, see, were never imperial guard material. We’re not cut out for that loyalty and devotion and jump-in-the-way-of-an-arrow stuff.”

The remaining five matched his grin. They’d all been members of Dion’s hundred-man squad, who were subsequently transferred to the Princess Guard. One of them chimed in.

“Yeah, protecting people ain’t our thing. We’re more about chopping them up.”

Dion nodded.

“You heard ’em. So make like a nice pair of imperial guards and get a move on already. Don’t keep Her Highness waiting.”

After enduring a round of good-natured jibes, the two exchanged resigned smiles.

“Then allow us imperial guards to serve as Her Highness’s continued escort. It shall be our honor. May fortune be with you all.”

As the soldiers clapped each other on the shoulders and traded parting salutes, Dion walked over to Miabel, who’d been quietly watching the proceedings from the side, and knelt before her with his head bowed.

“Your Highness, we will stay here to teach these rabid vermin a lesson. They will trouble you no longer, so please enjoy the rest of your journey to the capital.”

He looked up to find the last princess of Tearmoon gazing back at him, the blank expression on her adorable seven-year-old face vividly reminiscent of her grandmother.

Heh. That’s Mia’s grandkid all right. She’s got the same clueless look.

As if affirming his exceedingly disrespectful evaluation of her, Miabel asked in a puzzled tone, “Uncle Dion... Why?”

“Eh? Why what?”

“I don’t understand. Why? Why does everyone die to protect me?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. Then he sighed.

‘Why die for me?’ asks the girl who’s not even old enough to know what death is.

It was, he figured, the result of sovereign schooling. She’d been taught that there were those who put their lives on the line to protect her. She’d been taught how she was supposed to behave toward them. And those teachings... had led to this question. Why, she wondered, did those people protect her? Risk their lives for her? She understood the function, but not the reason.

“Let me put it this way, Your Highness. The truth is that we’re just being a bunch of old boys and throwing a big tantrum. It makes us feel better about missing the chance to fight alongside your grandmother long ago.” He showed her a toothy smile. “In fact, we’re enjoying this. It’s like a game to us, so there’s no need to worry your little head. You just let us play our silly game. Go on. And don’t look back, you hear?”

She listened without saying a word. When he finished, she straightened her back and looked him in the eye. Then, with as much gravitas as a seven-year-old could muster, she said, “Sir Dion Alaia, as well as the loyal soldiers you command... Know that I shall remember you for as long as I live. You have my word.”

Her dignified expression just barely held through her short speech before a quivering lip broke the illusion. She bowed deeply, hiding her face from view, and finished with, “Farewell, then.”

She turned and departed. Dion shook his head and smiled wryly as he watched her diminutive form grow even smaller with distance. Not once did she look back.

“Well I’ll be damned. This one’s a right little marvel. Much smarter than her grandma.”

“Hear hear. Princess Mia always had this look on her face that made you think there wasn’t a whole lot going on upstairs.”

“A sight for sore eyes, eh? The empire’s got a bright future with a princess like that. Really makes all this protecting and dying worth it, yeah?”

A wave of laughter rolled through the men.

“Right then,” said Dion, addressing his small but spirited audience. “Listen up. It seems that Her Pint-Sized Highness is going to remember this battle of ours for a long time to come.” He paused for effect. “So let’s give her a show worth remembering.”

The sharpness of his voice was reflected in their sharpening gazes. With the feral grins of predators, they awaited the arrival of their deadly prey.

They took up formation in the middle of the bridge. Standing at the forefront with his arms crossed was Dion, his twin swords planted in the planks beside his feet. His glare could have rent steel. Before him stretched a long line of enemy cavalrymen, who’d stopped some distance away as though hesitant to approach. He scoffed audibly.

“What are you waiting for? Introductions? All right then. I’ll go first. Dion Alaia, blade of the Great Sage and finest knight of the empire. My swords will be glad to make the acquaintance of all those who have a desire to meet—”

One overly eager horseman ignored his warning and charged, trying to ride past him and cross the bridge. There was a blinding flash. Extending from his outstretched arm was one of his swords, having traced a smooth arc from the ground to the sky. The horse kept running, its steps echoing loudly in the ensuing silence... But its rider slid off and fell to the ground, armor parting in two along a clean cut through the chest.

“Don’t interrupt people when they’re talking, lad.” He turned toward the rest of his foes. “Life’s short, you know? You don’t have to make it shorter. Also, you’ve only got one life, so try not to throw it away next time.”

Having witnessed his sword slice clean through steel to rend flesh, a wave of apprehensive awe rolled through the other horsemen. The soldiers of the Holy Aquarian Army were no green recruits, but even among their ranks, few could match such a feat.

“So... who’s next for the cutting board?”

Cued by his bloodcurdling grin, his own, old soldiers drew their swords and let out a fierce roar that shook the sky.

The last remnants of the Princess Guard fought well. With Dion at the fore, they repelled wave after wave of cavalry assault, beating back their enemies without giving an inch. Over and over, the riders charged, only to find themselves smashing into the human equivalent of a brick wall. With spikes. After sustaining heavy losses, the attackers were forced to temporarily fall back.

The bridge was held, but at great cost. Five more men finished their journey. Only Dion himself remained. Coated in as much blood as he’d lost, he sat with his head down, already more corpse than man.

“Bloody hell... If only I was ten years younger... I might have... managed something more...” His mutters turned into gurgling murmurs as a crimson line flowed down from the corner of his lip. He spat. “Bah, bloody... Still, I gotta say, the princess sure knows how to keep us on our toes, doesn’t she? Wrote us one hell of a finale. Did you all enjoy your time on center stage?”

He was answered by the silent affirmation of their rigid faces, lips locked by death in bold smiles, forever proud to have given their lives for the Great Sage of the Empire and the precious granddaughter she left to them. They died well, in the place where they belonged.

“Dying in a place where I belong, huh... Can’t argue with that. Hard to think of a more fitting place for me than this. Heh...”

With great effort, he craned his neck up toward the sky, eyes distant with a vision of the late princess he’d served.

“But you, Princess... I’d wondered if you might find someplace else... Some other end for me... that even I couldn’t imagine...”

A peaceful end was something he’d neither expected nor ever wished for. He always assumed he’d meet his end on the battlefield, his expired body trampled by the boots of enemies too numerous to best. Just like now. This was his end. He’d wanted this.

But there would be moments... strange moments when his mind would wander in a flight of fancy... and he’d imagine himself lying in bed under the ceiling of his own room, or perhaps a hospital. He’d look around at the saddened faces of people he knew, most sorry of which was surely his doltish princess, and produce his last wry grin before departing them for good. And... it maybe didn’t seem so bad.

It would be a nearly unbearably peaceful and ordinary end, so profoundly devoid of drama that only the Great Sage of the Empire could bring about such a scene, and he’d die complaining about how boring it was, only for his restful expression to betray his acceptance.

There had been times when the thought had amused him. Appealed to him. And now, knowing such an end was forever out of his reach, he felt in his heart the slightest twinge of disappointment.

“...What’s this? Am I getting sentimental? I, Dion Alaia, Reaper of the Battlefield?”

A ferocious grin spread across his lips and his blood roiled in his veins. Somewhere inside he heard a voice. It screamed for more. The fight wasn’t over. He hadn’t had enough. Driven by the voice, he rose to his feet. The sound of hooves echoed in the distance, growing ever closer. He closed his eyes.

“Be safe, Princess Miabel. Be safe...”

His prayer left him as a hoarse growl. He opened his eyes again. A sword lay on a body nearby. He picked it up.

“Hm... I’m not quite done playing. The score’s not high enough. Four digits... is maybe too much, but I gotta at least break three. The empire’s finest has a reputation to keep up.”

He huffed out a breath and regarded his oncoming foes with glee.

“One more round, boys! Let’s do this!”

With a thundering roar, he charged forward. His sword caught the sun and exploded in light like the blinding nova of a dying star. It scythed through steel and flesh, a streak of deadly radiance, as it reaped the souls of countless more victims.

The empire’s finest, Dion Alaia, fell before the Holy Aquarian Army of Rafina, the Empress Prelate. When he finally followed in the steps of the five deceased members of the Princess Guard, two hundred and eighty men lay slain by their blades. Their last stand at Lunant Bridge allowed Miabel, the last princess of the Tearmoon Empire, to escape to the yet-neutral zone of the imperial capital, where she would be raised under the care of Mia’s loyal vassals: Anne, Elise, and Ludwig.

Part B: Dion Alaia’s Visit to School

“Leave the frontlines? Seriously?” said Dion.

Feeling a tad bored, he’d dropped in on Ludwig in his office, figuring he’d idle away some time with small talk. Before he could even get a proper banter going, however, Ludwig suddenly hit him with the unexpected proposal. He regarded the bespectacled man dubiously before slumping back in his chair and languidly crossing his legs.

“Seriously,” Ludwig confirmed. “I believe I’ve mentioned this to you before, Sir Dion, but it would benefit Her Highness to have an ally within the Ebony Moon Ministry, and I’d like you to be that person. To that end, I’ll need you to climb as high as you can up the military ladder.”

“I thought that was just your attempt at humor.”

Hunting down bandits... Skirmishing along the border... Suppressing violent revolts... These were the kind of jobs that suited him. Dion firmly believed that the battlefield was where he belonged. He lived for the blistering tension of fights. Naturally, he expected that he’d die in one as well. Ludwig, however, had no interest in his philosophies.

“I was being completely serious.” The solemn bureaucrat gazed at him through his glasses. “I had thought that you were, as well.”

In a rare display of unease, Dion uncrossed his legs and shifted in his seat.

“Bloody hell, didn’t think you’d get all serious on me... I swear, ever since I ran into the princess, nothing’s been going as I expected.”

Even if he didn’t try for a career in the Ebony Moon Ministry, Dion’s squad was going to be incorporated into the Princess Guard. Compared to their days operating as a hundred-man squad on the frontlines, their new positions offered far more glory and kept them much further from danger. Many would undoubtedly find the greatly improved pay and lower risk of bodily harm highly welcome, but their reactions were still overwhelmingly ones of bewilderment.

“It’s so damn sudden that my men are, uh, having some trouble coming to terms with their new reality.”

“I see. Are any of them resistant to the arrangement?”

“No, I don’t think there’s any actual resistance... Hard to argue against higher pay. Plus, being in the capital makes it easier for them to go out and have fun.”

That drew a satisfied nod from Ludwig.

“And that, right there, is the essence of Her Highness. All who involve themselves with her are forced to change for the better. It was true of me. It was true of you and your men. It was true of the old imperial guards. And it will likely be true of her classmates and princely companions as well. I doubt even the Holy Lady Rafina can escape her influence.”

His voice was filled with pride.

“Damn, now that’s starting to sound spooky. She changes you whether you like it or not, huh. Even if it’s always for the better — which seems like a pretty big if, by the way — isn’t that sort of arrogant?” he asked with a shrug, the detached amusement in his eyes suggesting a stubborn belief in his own immunity.

“Hm, perhaps my choice of wording was less than ideal. Her Highness does not change people against their will... It is the will itself that she changes. Those who have no desire to change are transformed such that they wish for it themselves. They change... because she shows you a vision of yourself that you can’t help but wish for. That is what’s truly terrifying about the Great Sage of the Empire.”

“So you’re saying she can take me, who has already decided to live and die by the sword, and convince me to sheath it for good? And make me want to do so? Tall order. An impossible one, if you ask me.”

He gently ran his fingers along the sword at his waist, the motion at once familiar and somehow... right. Swinging it around on the front lines was his life. How he was. He simply couldn’t imagine himself without it.

“By the way, what’s that you got there?” he asked, gesturing with his chin at a pile of papers on Ludwig’s desk.

“A report for Her Highness. There are funds that she entrusted to me, so I felt a need to detail their usage for her perusal.”

“Huh... Hey, you know what? Why don’t I deliver that report for you?” said Dion with a smile of inspiration.

“You? But...”

“I’ve been thinking of taking a look at Saint-Noel’s security, so I’ll just drop it off while I’m there. If the Ebonies ask, I’ll tell them I’m conducting an investigative visit to Belluga.”

“That’s... not entirely unreasonable. Very well. In that case, I suggest you try requesting an audience with the Holy Lady as well.”

“You want me to meet the Duke’s daughter?”

“If you’re going to claw your way up the ministry, you’ll need to establish personal connections with people in high places.”

Dion grimaced; he’d misplayed his hand in this conversation.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but...”

With no good reason to refuse, he packed his things and, three days later, set out for Belluga as a specially appointed military envoy of Tearmoon. His last words before departing for the Principality were the rather ominous utterance, “Well, if I have to go on this bloody trip, I might as well enjoy it...”

Mia was having a very good day. The work involved in transitioning from Rafina to her as student council president was finally winding down, and she could take it easy for the next two days.

“Ahh, at last. A weekend. How should I spend it? A trip to town, perhaps? Mmm, yes, I think I’ll go sweets hunting. There still are an awful lot of stores I haven’t tried yet... Oh, I can’t wait.”

“Ah, uh, Grandmother? Can I, um, go with you?”

Bel, who’d been within earshot, raised her hand in appeal. Having hailed from a desolate future where the empire had long since collapsed, she’d been quickly captivated by the sweets of the present era.

“If you remember to stop calling me Grandmother, maybe.”

Mia sighed. Her granddaughter did not seem to be gifted with a good memory. Nevertheless, the promise of an enjoyable outing kept her enthused.

“I’m going to spend the next two days eating every tasty thing the island has to offer!”

With all her attention focused on how she was going to satisfy her taste buds, she was completely unprepared to run into a brightly smiling Dion on the busy main street of the town. She actually screamed out loud at the sight of him, one hand raised casually in greeting as he waded through the crowd to her.

“Wh-Wh-What in the moons are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Tearmoon doing... soldier things?”

His other hand held a still-steaming skewer, freshly plucked from some roadside vendor, which he placed under the temporary care of his teeth while he dug through his pocket to produce a batch of papers. He waved them at her.

“I am doing soldier things, Your Highness. Official business, in fact, courtesy of Ludwig. I’m to deliver a report from him, so I figured I’d check in on you along the way. Word back in Tearmoon is that you picked a fight with the Duke’s daughter. Can’t blame us for getting a little worried, can you?”

“Excuse me, phrasing! I did not pick a fight with her!” She vehemently denied the claim. The last thing she’d ever do was pick a fight with Rafina. “Would you please stop saying things like that? I have enough problems on my plate. I don’t need you to invent new ones!”

“Ahh, your reactions never fail to amuse.”

Dion chuckled happily to himself before his brows suddenly raised in surprise. Mia followed his gaze to the diminutive figure beside her, who was staring at him, mouth agape.

Gah! I completely forgot about Bel!

“Huh. And who might this be?”

“U-Uh, well... You see, she’s—”

She swallowed back her usual answer.

Wait, if I lie to him about how she’s Father’s illegitimate child, there’s a good chance it’ll come back to bite me down the road. Hmm...

While she struggled for an answer, Bel pattered over and all but adhered herself to him in a hug.

“Uhh...”

“Um, Sir Dion, thank you very much. I’m very grateful for what you did that time for me.”

She looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Okay, uh...” He held his arms awkwardly in the air, unsure of what to do with them now that their usual location had been occupied by his petite admirer. “That’s great and all, but I seem to have no recollection of this event.”

“That’s okay. I’m just happy I got to meet you again.”

She released him from her tight embrace, took a step back, and smiled. He hesitantly smiled back. Mia, who was enjoying the rare sight of a rattled Dion, quickly realized what Bel was referring to.

Aha, I know now. She must have known him from the future. That explains the—

Suddenly, Bel began to introduce herself.

“My name is Miabel. Miabel Lu—”

Horrified, she frantically clapped her hand over Miabel’s mouth before giving Dion a oh we’re just having some silly fun here look.

“Hmmm. Miabel... Sounds a lot like the name of someone we know, doesn’t it?” he said with a glance at Mia that suggested he wasn’t nearly as amused as his smile might suggest.

Eeeeek! I don’t know what, but he suspects me of something!

Her cheeks twitched a few times, but she managed to keep up her calm front and nod.

“Th-Th-That’s right. It sounds a lot like my name, right? S-So I decided to be friends with her. Look at how close we are. We’re like sisters, aren’t we? In fact, whenever we meet people, she just tells them I’m her sister, right?”

She widened her eyes to frightening proportions and fixed Bel with her trademark high-powered gaze. The younger girl nodded a little too rapidly to look entirely natural before smiling at Dion in ostensible affirmation.

“Hmm... So be it then. Still, I’d recommend caution, Your Highness. It’s real easy to make enemies with a personality like yours. A cute-looking assassin is well within the realm of possibility.” Though his statement was foreboding, his softening gaze suggested the threat was more theoretical than immediate. “With that said, this island does have some pretty beefy security, so it’s not exactly easy to get an assassin in here.”

She frowned at Dion’s remark. He might have meant it as casual banter, but something about the topic smelled fishy to her.

“Oh? And what exactly do you mean—”

Before she could finish the thought, a prescient chill ran up her spine. Almost immediately after, Bel clapped her hands together and said, “Oh, Miss Mia, I just had an idea. Since Sir Dion came all this way, why don’t we give him a tour of the island?”

Wh-What?! For the love of— Why would you even suggest something like that?!

She quickly glanced at Dion. To her horror, he wore a wide smile on his face.

“Well well well, now doesn’t that sound just lovely. Would you like to show me around, Your Highness?”

He didn’t even think twice! Ugh, the nerve! To be asking me, the princess of Tearmoon, to show him around like some common tour guide! Such impudence! Such... Dion-ness! Augh, how did it come to this...

She fought back a groan of dismay before noticing that Bel was staring up at her with wide, earnest eyes.

“Please, Miss Mia. Sir Dion did me a very big favor. I’d like to repay him, even if just a little.”

Her granddaughter’s plea pulled her out of her mental tirade, allowing her to retrieve some amount of composure.

Hm... Bel’s pretty serious about this. Whatever he did for her, she must feel really grateful. Maybe even Dion becomes a decent person in the future. Also, there was that whole thing in Remno, so I guess I also owe him one... Ugh, but still...

Her eyes settled on the sword hanging from his waist.

I’m not sure I like the thought of walking around with him when he has his sword...

Being a tour guide meant she’d have to take the lead and walk in front of him. Which meant she couldn’t see him... but he could see her... while he had his sword... and could lop off her head if the fancy struck him...

The more she thought about it, the scarier it sounded. In the end, she decided to impose a condition.

“I guess I have no choice. You shall have the honor of receiving a personal tour by me. I will, however, need you to remove the item at your waist and leave it in someone else’s custody.”

“Oh? So you noticed. Can’t fool you, can I?” He smiled with resignation and turned his back to her. “You heard the princess. Can you hold on to this for me, young lady?”

Hm? Who is he talking to?

Her answer came in the form of a woman with long brown hair who approached Dion from behind. She bowed once. When she straightened, Mia realized she knew the woman.

“My, you’re... Monica?”

“Yes. I’m glad to see you in good health, Princess Mia,” she said with a polite smile before turning to Dion. “I see that this gentleman is an acquaintance of yours.”

“Uh, well, I guess so. He’s a knight from the empire. What about him?”

“He did not go through the normal channels to gain entry to the island, so I suspected he might be a foreign assassin.”

“Wait, he did what?” She winced, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Dion? What exactly is going on here? Why is she telling me you didn’t go through the proper channels?”

“Ah, well, I was going to cross normally, you see, but then some punk guard with a bad attitude told me I had to leave my sword behind, so, you know.”

“No I don’t know, you crazy hooligan! Are you out of your mind?! What were you thinking?!”

“Hey, I figured, as your vassal, I had to live up to your reputation as the princess who picked a fight with the Holy Lady.”

“There’s no reputation to live up to! I didn’t pick a fight! Augh! I can’t even!”

While Mia was busy protesting, he glanced obliquely at Monica.

“Glad to know that any suspicious individuals who come in with a weapon are closely monitored. Nice work.”

She favored him with a polite smile.

“I’m glad I’ve relieved you of your concern. May I have the weapon at your waist then?”

This time, he handed it to her without complaint.

“Can’t defy a direct order from Her Highness, after all. That said...”

Without warning, he grabbed the arm that Monica extended to receive his sword and pressed his face to within an inch of hers. She didn’t flinch.

“...Yes?”

“...If we’re talking assassins, then you’ve got the smell of one yourself, too. I saw how you were tailing me. Maids,” he said with an overt glance at her clothing, “don’t walk like that. Who are you?”

She held his gaze for a second before letting out a short sigh.

“I was deployed to the Kingdom of Remno as a Wind Crow.”

“Ahh, so I’ve heard. You’ve left Sunkland and resworn your allegiance to Belluga, then? Haha, talk about shaking it up. That’s spies for you. They flip sides like dice.”

His mocking statement elicited not an angry retort from Monica, but rather a grateful smile.

“Indeed. I didn’t see this coming either. Everything changed. And so drastically too. But the strangest thing is... Every time I think about it, I find that I’m glad Princess Mia dismantled that conspiracy. The work I’m doing right now is very fulfilling, and it wouldn’t have been possible without her,” she said as she inclined her head toward Mia.

“My, how nice of you to say that, but I fear I cannot take credit for what transpired. Things certainly worked out in the end, but it was far more coincidence than my own doing.”

Mia actually spoke the truth for a change. It was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

And not a single soul there believed her.

“You’re real talkative for a spy,” quipped Dion, his tone softening but still not entirely without its edge.

“That I am,” answered Monica. “After all, I’m Miss Rafina’s maid now.”

Then, with another courteous bow, she turned and walked away.

“Huh...”

Dion chewed on his lips as he watched her go. Only after she vanished into the crowd did he shake his head and address Mia again.

“Whatever... Anyway, shall we get going, Your Highness? This tour isn’t going to conduct itself.”

Mia acknowledged him with a silent nod. In the process, she made up her mind.

P-Phew... Thank the moons that ended bloodlessly. But now I’m sure of it. Dion is dangerous. At this rate, sooner or later, he’s going to make Rafina very angry. And a fight between those two is... She swallowed. Too terrible to imagine. I-I’d better take the lead here and make sure we don’t do anything that attracts her attention... Ugh, I wish I hadn’t said he was one of my people!

Rafina’s maid, huh...

Dion followed behind Mia, paying little attention to the surrounding scenery. His thoughts were occupied by their earlier encounter with the maid. Something about her bothered him. She seemed to have combat training, but she was hardly proficient enough to pose any sort of threat to him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t that.

Princess Mia. She whose presence forces all those around her to change, whether they like it or not... Hm... He glanced at her, strolling haughtily down the street with her hands on her hips as she described for him the nearby points of interest. From here, all I see is a kid. And a clueless one at that. Hardly the epiphany-on-legs that people make her out to be.

To his surprise, that was the exact moment when she scowled at him. He suppressed the urge to suspect her of telepathy.

“Dion! Are you even listening to me?”

“Haha, of course I am. I’m all ears. You were talking about the, uh...”

Bel, who’d been studying Dion’s face, immediately clued in. She nodded at him and said, “That’s the horse field over there, Sir Dion. It’s where Miss Mia often goes to practice her horse riding. Sometimes, she even rides out to the lake.”

“Ah, gotcha. So this is the horsemanship club that she joined.”

He patted her on the head, recalling that he had once said he’d like to take a look at the place.

“Ehehe...”

Bel giggled, clearly enjoying the head pat she’d earned. The girl was a sharp one.

Mia scowled again before looking around.

“That’s odd,” said Mia. “Some of the horses seem to be missing...”

“Hey, miss. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

A young man in his late teens approached them from the stable. He had jet black hair and he walked with the steady gait of a well-toned body.

Huh... An Equestri, maybe? he thought, guessing the boy to be from the Kingdom of Equestria.

“It certainly has. It’s good to see you again, Malong.” Mia greeted him graciously. “I’ve been so caught up with student council work lately...”

“Yeah, I heard from Abel. Speaking of which, you just missed him. If you’d come a bit earlier, you could have gone on a nice long ride together.”

“My, Abel came, too?” she said, promptly perking up at the mention of the prince’s name.

Her overt interest drew a hearty laugh from him.

“Lately, he’s been coming every day. Gotten pretty dang good too,” he said before looking out into the distance. His tone grew pensive. “He’s changed, you know? He’d always been a bit of a wimp, but no more. Now, he’s got the look of a true leader. And I daresay it’s all thanks to you.”

“My, you give me far too much credit. Abel has always been a marvelous young man. His charms are all his own. I had no hand in it,” she said before giggling a little. “Oh, but he is so very charming...”

She giggled some more and cupped her cheeks with her hands while squirming like a love-struck schoolgirl. Which... she was. Dion studied her askance before turning to Malong.

“Say, you mind telling me a little more of this story? I’ve only ever known Prince Abel to be an earnest young royal who shows great promise.”

“Huh. And who’re you supposed to be? You with the miss?”

Malong looked him over with caution before being placated by the diminutive figure of Miabel, who stood happily at Dion’s side. Malong gave his head a nonchalant quirk.

“Well, Abel and I go way back... and let me tell you, that boy didn’t have a shred of willpower. Eh, maybe that’s too harsh, but it’s like he never had any reason to even try. Then he ran into the little miss there, and it was love at first sight. He’s been a bundle of determination ever since. Never a peep out of him, no matter how hard a thing he’s doing.” He shook his head with “I guess that’s love for you.”

“My, love at first sight?” said Mia, who’d recovered from her giggling fit. “Oh, you’re such a flatterer, Malong. Hehehe...”

They shared a conspiratorial wink and grin. It was very eye-rolling to witness for all other parties, and Dion gave an audible tsk of exasperation.

“Also,” continued Malong, “you changed this club a whole lot too. The atmosphere here’s much better.”

“Atmosphere, you say?” asked Dion, rekindling his curiosity with some effort. “How do you mean?”

“Thanks to the miss, we got a lot more girls joining the club. We’re actually running short on horses now. Back in the old days, noble girls had no interest in horses. I mean, there was always the odd hobbyist, but most of ’em just scrunch up their faces and gripe about how the horses smell, and they’re dirty, and their dung’s a menace to civil society... Now, we have plenty of girls coming for club tours. We’re on much better terms with ’em now.”

“Huh... Fascinating.”

Dion regarded Mia with renewed interest.

So the horsemanship club was the victim of unjustly negative perceptions, and the princess managed to right that wrong? She doesn’t look like the sort to do something like that, but... Heh, she sure is an interesting one. Always keeps you guessing.

After a thorough tour of the horsemanship club, Mia knew her chance had come.

This is it! Now’s the time to get as far away from the school as possible so we don’t run into Rafina!

She waited for a natural pause in the conversation before speaking up.

“Well, I think that about does it for the school. Let’s head into town and—”

“Since we’re here already, why don’t we pay Miss Rafina a visit too?”

Mia’s hopes for making a hasty exit were promptly dashed by Bel’s suggestion.

“Ugh... B-But think about how you got in here. After pulling a stunt like that, don’t you think it’d be awkward? Just so you know, Miss Rafina can be really scary when she’s angry—”

“Gosh, is that how you’re introducing me to people? I’m hardly as scary as you make me out to be.”

Mia’s heart almost leapt clean out of her throat. She spun around, only to look straight into the face of despair. Despair, in this case, had pale blue hair — the color of a summer stream — and clear, glimmering eyes. They adorned a face with crisp, clean-cut features that wore a serene smile.

Rafina Orca Belluga approached them, her steps smooth and graceful. Mia reflexively took a few steps away from Dion, trying to pretend like she didn’t know him.

“Miss Rafina? Uh, you see, this person is—”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about him from Monica. He’s a trusted vassal of yours, isn’t he?”

“He... is that, yes,” Mia said, the light of hope quickly draining from her eyes. “I was, uh... just thinking I should introduce him to you.”

Realizing that escape was impossible, she accepted her fate. A lone tear welled up in her eye. She looked up at the sky, hoping it would not fall.

“Hm? Is something the matter, Princess Mia?”

“Oh, something just got in my eye. It’s fine...” Mia flicked away the tear with a finger and put her smile back on. “Miss Rafina, this is Dion Alaia. He’s actually a knight from Tearmoon, and...”

“Yes, I’m aware. Sir Dion, the empire’s finest. Your accomplishments in the Kingdom of Remno have long since reached my ears.” Rafina curtsied gracefully. “I am Rafina Orca Belluga, daughter of the Duke of Belluga. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She lowered her voice before continuing.

“I see that Princess Mia’s sword is not so easily impeded. You’re the first, you know? To step unauthorized onto this island bearing arms.”

“I’m honored to bear that title, milady,” he replied facetiously before formally lowering himself to one knee. “My name is Dion Alaia, knight of the empire and sword of Her Highness Princess Mia. For now, anyway, that part’s important.”

“Oh? Are you suggesting that my friend, Princess Mia, is not worthy of your lifelong loyalty?”

Daggers flashed briefly from her eyes, as sharp as any sword. Mia flinched and just barely managed to stifle a gasp.

“She gets a passing mark for the time being, I suppose. In my personal opinion, of course.” He shrugged. “By the way, are you quite sure it’s appropriate for the island’s authorities to have nothing but words of praise for a scoundrel who set foot on your soil carrying unauthorized weapons?”

He met steel with steel, parrying her piercing gaze with a cutting remark. His provocation had little effect on Rafina, whose smile remained as polite as ever.

“A very good question. Were you a typical bandit, I might have some sterner words for you. But if you are sworn to the service of Princess Mia, then I have nothing more to say. She deems you trustworthy, and that’s enough for me.”

Hold on. When in the moons did I ever ‘deem him trustworthy’? He’s bad news with a capital B.

The thought occurred to Mia, but as a woman of discretion (read: cowardice), she left it unsaid.

“Mia is my friend, and a very important one at that. If my dear friend chooses to trust someone, then it’s simply right for me to do so as well.” Rafina let out a soft laugh of delight. “Besides, she’s the student council president now. Should your actions endanger this academy, I’m sure she’ll do something about it. Isn’t that right?”

She turned to Mia, who could feel her composure being steadily chiseled away by this conversation.

E-Excuse me? I’ll do something about it? He split a metal spear in two, for crying out loud! What do you expect me to do to a monster like that?

Mia gulped. Her stomach turned at Rafina’s expectant gaze. She was the Princess of Tearmoon though, so despite her fear, she gathered her courage and declared, “O-Of course! I’m the student council president, after all!”

If the other two heard her mousy whisper, they didn’t show it. Hey, nobody said declarations have to be loud. The point is that she said it. Whether or not they heard it was their problem.

“Huh... I see you think pretty highly of Her Highness. Just out of curiosity, would you mind if I ask what she means to you?”

Rafina inclined her head and considered the question. Her response came shortly after.

“A dear friend. One of my closest. Never before had anyone offered to shoulder my burdens with me. She was the first...”

Wait, what? When did I offer to do that?

Hearing some discrepancy between Rafina’s interpretation and her own, Mia summoned up her courage once more and opened her mouth.

“...”

Nothing came out. So she closed it again. This was, she decided post-factum, not the time to go on the offensive. Rather, strategic non-action was her safest choice. To step knowingly into danger was not courage but folly, and what could be more dangerous than wading into a confrontation between Rafina and Dion? The Lioness of Belluga and the Tiger of Tearmoon were duking it out. Mia the Cautious Kitten had no business sticking her head between their battling jaws. All she could do was go with the flow. Whenever she was addressed, she simply smiled and nodded, occasionally adding in a “Yes indeed” or an “I know, right?” for good measure. Her only chance of coming out of this in one piece was to take into herself the very essence of the yes-man. She would not say “no.” “No” did not exist. Like a professional improv artist, she knew only “yes, and.”

“My life had been one of invisible shackles... and she freed me from them. I never imagined there would come a day when I’d feel the way I do now.”

“I see...”

Dion regarded her for an extended moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded.

After saying goodbye to Rafina, the three of them left Saint-Noel Academy.

“Haha. Gotta say, that was an enjoyable experience, Your Highness,” Dion said with a wide smile.

“I-Is that so? Well... I’m glad for you then...” Mia, meanwhile, resembled someone who’d just run a marathon — both physically and mentally. “A-Anyway, I’d be, um, happy to show you some more of the island next time, so long as you leave that sword of yours behind...”

So, the implication was, why don’t we call it a day and you can go away?

“Really? You too, huh?”

“Hm?”

“Your good friend Ludwig said the same thing to me. I see you’re both determined to make me give up my sword.”

“Oh? Ludwig thought the same? Well, good for him. He knows me well.”

She made a mental note to thank her spectacled subject. After all, what he’d suggested was a longstanding hope of hers. It might even be her greatest wish. Even now, the man named Dion Alaia — he who had beheaded her — still struck fear into her heart. Whenever he was around, she couldn’t help but feel he might try to have a second go at her. The trauma was so deep that she was pretty sure her mind wouldn’t know true peace until she got this walking menace of a man to give up his sword for good. It was, therefore, a constant wish of hers — one that truly came from her heart.

“So I see... Hah. Bloody hell...” He shook his head in resignation. “Well, in that case, feel free to try. I’m curious to know what’ll happen myself.”

He then produced an expression she’d never seen before. It was still one of his usual sardonic grins, but it lacked the subtle hint of violence — like a blade that had retired its edge. Astonished by this rare display of genuine mirth, she could do naught but stare.

“What, is there something on my face?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s nothing. Anyway, since we’re done here, I wish you a safe journey back—”

“Miss Mia!”

She’d let her guard down. The relief of having their run-in with Rafina end without disastrous consequences had lulled her into a false sense of security. She thought all that remained was to say their goodbyes. What she forgot was the presence of the third and smallest member of their party — her own granddaughter! A granddaughter who happened to feel deeply grateful toward Dion and was determined to repay the debt.

“While we’re still here, why don’t we take the chance to show him around the town as well?”

Bel smiled at her, all innocence and excitement.

“...Eh?”

“You know what?” Dion’s grin widened. “I think I’d enjoy that very much.”

“...Eh?”

The glimmer of vitality drained from Mia’s eyes, replaced by the matte glaze of a girl who knew she was not going to enjoy the rest of her day.

The rest of the day went as expected. A sprightly Bel led an amused Dion through the town, with a miserable-but-trying-hard-not-to-show-it Mia in tow. Finally, at the end of the day...

“U-Ugh...”

After seeing Dion off and returning to their room, Mia faceplanted into her bed and ceased all movement. The last leg of their excursion had left her a depleted husk. So thorough was her exhaustion that she spent even the following day, which she’d been so looking forward to, lying in bed.

Of course, even if she’d been perfectly rested, there was a good chance she’d have spent the day in bed anyway...

Thus continued the dream of the princess and the knight. When it would fade — how the story would end — was still anyone’s guess.

Volume 3 Fin