Chapter 32: Extending the Thin Thread of Fate

That’s...a moonhare. Must be one of the horses that Equestria ceded to Saint-Noel Academy. A fine steed. But...

The wolfmaster coolly regarded the fleeing princess and her horse. For whatever reason—the smoke, perhaps—she was glowing, which granted him a clear view of how she rode.

Not a bad rider, this Princess Mia. She’s giving her horse free rein.

Doubly impressive was the sight when accounting for the fact that she maintained good form while supporting a younger girl who wasn’t used to riding. Triply, perhaps, given her gender and regal status...

Unfortunately for her...it’s not enough to outrun me.

He calmly uttered a command to his horse.

“...Go, Eilai.”

His steed, its black-silver hair gleaming, let out an affirmative whinny. It promptly upped its speed, leaving their lupine escort in the dust. Within seconds, the gap all but closed. He drew his sword. Its blade caught the moon and gleamed with menace.

“...I shall have your head.”

“Eeeeeeek!”

There were but three horse-lengths between him and his shrieking prey. In response, the fleeing horse increased its speed as well, and the gap grew again. It also kicked a splatter of dirt at him.

A smart horse then. Very good.

The wolfmaster veered left to evade the projectile, briefly distancing himself from Mia. Then, preserving his momentum, he traced a semicircle back toward her to cut her off. As he approached again, however, his eyes caught something in the distance.

Hm? What’s that?

In the all-encompassing gloom, there was a small red flicker. It arced through the air...right at his head!

“Hngh!”

He quickly swiped at it with his sword. A brief sensation of impact was followed by a burst of flames nearby.

“A fire arrow?”

Soon after, a girl’s voice echoed through the night.

“Your Highness!”

He peered ahead into the darkness from which the fiery missile had come. The light emanating from him, though faint, was nonetheless hampering his own vision. Still, he could make out the outline of a horse with two riders. One held the reins and the other a bow.

Attendants, then. Here to rescue the princess. Very well.

Anne and Tiona had been furiously trying to track down Mia’s whereabouts on Saint-Noel Island. Fortunately for them, many of the townspeople were familiar with Mia, and it hadn’t taken long for them to discover that she’d left the island by boat. The sight of a Saint-Noel student with a horse had been peculiar enough to leave an impression, and thanks to Anne’s tireless efforts to maintain good relations with folks throughout the town, many had willingly come to the flustered maid’s aid.

With this new knowledge, the pair of them had decided to follow Mia off the island. With the help of a merchant Anne was well-acquainted with, they’d managed to procure a boat.

“The problem is what we do once we get to the other side...” said Tiona as she narrowed her eyes worryingly at the darkness across the lake.

Their leads had ended with “Mia left the island.” After that, the trail might go cold. Was it even possible to find out more by asking around?

“Hey, Anne, you got a second?” asked the merchant, who approached the two anxious girls. “See, normally, I’d take you to the dock on the other side, but people are gonna raise a ruckus if they find out I took students off the island, so I’m gonna have to drop you off some place where people aren’t watching.”

The merchant’s words only darkened their despair. Whoever ferried Mia across the lake would surely have done the same. Searching for witnesses would be futile. Just then, they came upon another boat heading in the opposite direction.

“Huh. Funny. Didn’t expect anyone else to come this way.”

Hearing the merchant’s puzzled tone, the two girls traded a look.

“Do you think...”

“...That that’s the boat Her Highness was on?”

They ran to the back of the boat and studied the craft making its way toward Saint-Noel. There was no way to stop it and question whoever was aboard. But...

“Excuse me, but could you head toward the place that boat came from and let us off there?” asked Anne.

It was abundantly clear to the two of them that Mia had been caught up in some serious trouble. Once she got off her boat, she wouldn’t have sat there twiddling her thumbs. They knew this, and yet, they could only hope against hope that they’d find her there.

“Milady... Please.”

Anne’s desperate prayer was ultimately in vain. Upon disembarking they found no trace of Mia. With their last ray of hope fading into the all-consuming darkness, they nonetheless mounted a stubborn effort to search the area. Alas, by the time the torch they’d received from the merchant yielded its last flicker, glistening grief was openly flowing down Anne’s cheeks.

“Milady... Where...did you go...” she said through short, gasping sobs.

“Anne!” Tiona gasped and pointed. “Look!”

Anne wiped a hand across her tear-blurred eyes and looked in the direction of Tiona’s outstretched arm.

“Huh? Is that...”

Tethered loosely to a tree was the unmistakable outline of a horse.

“What is a horse doing out here?”

Tiona regarded it with puzzlement. Anne did too, but only for a second before her expression hardened with resolve.

“Miss Tiona, please get on behind me.”

“Huh? What?”

Anne gripped the sides of the saddle. Her fingers tightened as she remembered—again, for how could she ever forget—that day...when they went to the Kingdom of Remno without her. The day she was left behind. She’d wanted nothing more than to be at Mia’s side at all times. It was her greatest wish, but it was betrayed. Because she didn’t know how to use the thing in her hands right now. Because she couldn’t ride.

So, she’d begun practicing, the words never again fueling her as she struggled to learn. She already had enough regret to last her the rest of her life. She would not allow the saddle to separate her from Mia a second time.

And now, a horse had appeared before her. Mia was doubtless in serious trouble, and fate had deemed fit to present her with a horse. What she should do next was abundantly clear.

“Whenever milady rides, she always lets the horse have its way. I should do the same...”

Anne’s equestrian role model was Mia. She’d watched her mistress closely whenever she rode, and as a result, she now considered the Flotsam to be the ideal way to ride. Which...wasn’t entirely correct, but anyway...

Her mind was made up. She was going to follow in the footsteps of her dear mistress, both in method and in spirit.

“Hurry, Miss Tiona!”

“U-Um, right. Okay. I’m coming,” said Tiona, who quickly mustered her own resolve and followed Anne up onto the horse, seating herself behind the maid.

Anne took one last glance back to make sure Tiona was seated firmly behind her, then spurred the horse into motion. She knew not where she was headed. She simply let the horse have its way.

Completely unaware, of course, that it was a horse specifically prepared by the Chaos Serpents to deliver Mia to their meeting spot.

“Anne! Over there!”

After a period of bumpy riding while holding Anne for support, Tiona caught a glimmer in the distance. It was a faint light, but there was something enchanting about the way it glided toward them like a moon fairy soaring through the nightscape. And when she fixed her eyes upon it, she realized that the light was emanating from a person astride a horse. A person who happened to be...

“Eeeeeeeek!”

...Screaming her lungs out in a voice that Tiona recognized at once.

“That’s...Her Highness!” exclaimed Anne.

They’d found her at last. And right in the nick of time, it seemed.

“Is she in danger?”

There was a sense of desperation to Mia’s shrill cry.

I’ve never heard Her Highness let out an undignified scream like that, thought Tiona. She must be in serious trouble!

That alone was enough to convince her that Mia’s life was in grave and immediate danger. Of course, Mia was actually a frequent emitter of undignified screams and pathetic squealing, but in Tiona’s mind, she was a paragon of poise and coolheaded composure.

“Hold us steady, Anne. I’m going to give her some cover fire.”

She drew an arrow from the quiver on her back. It was a standard practice arrow, but its tip had been modified to burn. She held the arrowhead to her newly-acquired torch, and it burst promptly into vigorous flames.

Amazing as always, Liora. It works like a charm.

She spared a moment to give silent thanks. Then, she nocked the arrow.

The revolution in Remno had left more than one person with heart-wrenching regret. Tiona as well recalled that time with bitter frustration.

“I couldn’t do anything...”

She’d been there. Right beside Mia. But she hadn’t done a thing. Useless from beginning to end. Haunted by regret, she’d resolved to pick up archery, hoping it would give her strength. To fight, yes, but far more importantly, to do something—anything—to help Mia. To be useful.

She focused her gaze. Two shimmering objects wavered in the distance, both imbued with the same pale light. Which was the assailant and which was Mia? It was impossible to tell. Her arms tensed. A drop of sweat descended from her brow. Her aim had to be true; even the slightest risk of hitting Mia was unacceptable. But how could she tell? The bowstring trembled with her hand.

Which one is Her Highness? Is my aim good enough? Can I... Can I really do this?

Just then, one of the glowing figures veered wide. Then it followed a crescent path as it curved back toward the other. That was when she saw the flash. For a single, pivotal moment, a stray moonbeam fell upon the pursuing form. Within its faint radiance, there was a cold, harsh gleam.

“That’s...a sword!”

The foe’s blade was illuminated by the moon.

Her Highness would never fight with a sword! And there’s some distance between them right now! From this angle... Now!

With decisive deftness, Tiona loosed the flaming arrow.

The blazing missile was a culmination of the girls’ collective resolve. Pathos crystallized, it arced through the air like a shooting star. Anne alone would not have sufficed; she could have rode to the scene, but she’d be of little use afterward. Tiona could handle both horse and bow, but not both at once. Their presence here was, therefore, the result of their mutual effort. Their combined wills had borne the fruit of their timely arrival on the stage during the climactic scene of Mia’s death-defying escape.

The fire arrow shot straight toward their foe.

Astray again. The attempts are growing increasingly laughable.

After the first arrow, subsequent shots all flew well over the wolfmaster’s head. Their aim was laughably poor. Poorer yet was the choice to use fire; the flaming points betrayed their trajectory. This critical flaw meant that even if their aim had been true, he’d have little difficulty cutting them down. A concentrated volley to set the field ablaze could, perhaps, prove effective, but these pitiful attempts at marksmanship while illuminating the trails with fire was nothing but utter foolishness.

If not foolishness, then perhaps extreme caution? The arrows are made conspicuous to ensure the princess is not struck by accident...

They might have dissuaded the average bandit from further pursuit. For the wolfmaster, who’d cleaved the arrows of the Empire’s Finest out of the air, they were but impotent distractions.

Though... While they pose no threat to me, they’re still a nuisance. What is their purpose? With such poor aim, what if a stray shot finds its way toward the princess? Surely, she is no warrior. Visible though these shots are, how can they be sure she will evade them?

He had no trouble parrying arrows, but it seemed a tall order for the girls ahead.

...An idle worry for one whose head I’m about to claim. Last rites, then. Consider yourself prayed for, he thought as he signaled his horse to go faster.

He quickly gained on Mia. His sword raised, he swept it down across her neck. Rather...he was just about to when—

“On my cue!”

The archer ahead raised her voice. Her words stirred up a hint of doubt in his mind.

Cue? For what?

Was she speaking to the girl in front of her holding the reins? If so, what was there for her to do on cue? Was the message meant for the princess then? How was she meant to react? His doubt grew from an inkling to a cloud. Something wasn’t adding up.

A split second later, another fire arrow flickered to life ahead. It flew toward him in a shallow curve. Perhaps it was their increased proximity, but this time, its aim was true, forcing him to swing his sword at the arrow instead of the princess. Then, mid-swing, his ears caught the dissonance.

Two sharp whistles. Two fletchings splitting the air.

Instantly, he dove forward, flattening himself against his steed. An arrowhead grazed his shoulder, its trajectory perpendicular to the other. His cloud of doubt finally cleared to reveal the answer.

Gah... A fine shot. So they had a second archer...

“Tsk... No bullseye.”

Liora Lulu, her small form silhouetted against the dark grassland backdrop, clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“This time...I won’t miss,” she said, nocking a second arrow.

She’d been instructed by Tiona to go find help when they were still on the island. What was she doing here then, you ask? Well, there were a number of reasons, but they could more or less be summed up as “she was worried about Tiona.”

Having astutely perceived the severity of the situation from Anne’s perturbation, Liora’d done only the bare minimum necessary to technically comply with Tiona’s instructions before setting out after her. She arrived at the dock just as a boat was pulling in. It was of course the boat belonging to the merchant who’d ferried Mia across the lake. Emboldened by his success, he’d returned to make some more quick cash.

“No goods to carry, the entry inspections are lax...and I’m paid in gold. All for ferrying one student off the island. Hah, this is great. I should build a business around this.”

His buoyant mood did not last long. The karmic scythe came for him quickly, reaping the bitter fruits of his own deeds. Soon after landing, he was caught by the townspeople who’d witnessed Anne’s distress. Putting two and two together, they quickly gave him the beating of his life, which Liora arrived just in time to witness. With ample information in hand, she had a much easier time charting her course across the lake. Ultimately, she managed to catch up with Anne and Tiona in the middle of their mad dash across the grassland.

Suspecting an impending battle based on the merchant’s confessions, she crafted some makeshift fire arrows, dulling the points to ensure they’d be less than lethal if one were to strike Mia by accident. They’d still hurt, of course. A lot. But Liora operated on the principle of “if there isn’t a hole in you that I can see through, you’re probably fine.”

She’s a rough-and-tumble sort of girl. It’s part of her charm.

On top of that, she’d given Tiona a role to play as well. Handed a new torch and the improvised fire arrows, Tiona’s job was to distract the enemy and keep them busy. In the process, she had to achieve the arguably more important goal of lighting up the surroundings so Liora would have an easier time aiming.

Tiona was certainly no pushover when it came to her bow arm. But with so much on the line, the slightest error could result in a tragically porous princess, so Liora had her mistress provide cover fire. She herself would shoulder the responsibility of shooting to kill.

Granted, it wasn’t like Liora had divine providence on her side. There was still a chance of her hitting Mia by accident. It was just lower than Tiona’s.

“Your Highness... If I hit you...I’m really sorry.”

...Was Mia really going to make it out of this alive?

“Eeeeeeek!”

Mia shrieked in horror at the string of flaming missiles flying toward her.

“Gah! That was so close! Eeep! That one too! Dodge them, Kuolan! Dodge the— Eeeek! I think I felt that one! Bel, keep your head down, you hear?”

Objectively speaking, the arrows gave her a wide berth, but they whistled while flying past her, and that was more than enough to convince her inner chicken to put on a squawking concert.

Bel, meanwhile, just sat with her head down the whole time. Unlike Mia, this wasn’t her first arrow-laced rodeo, so to speak. The surrounding commotion failed to fluster her. What worried her...

“Rina...”

...Was the friend they’d abandoned. So deeply did she dwell on this thought that nothing—not the flaming arrows overhead, nor the menacing pursuer behind them—could win her attention. She barely even heard her grandmother’s rampant squealing inches away from her.

“Eeeeeeek! We’re going to die! This is it! We’re totally going to die!”

Not even that one.

Thus, Bel’s image of her grandmother as a stolid, dignified individual would live to see another day. Rejoice, Mia!

Now, after a while, even a coward like Mia began to clue into the fact that the fire arrows weren’t coming anywhere close to hitting her. This realization brought about a measure of composure, allowing her to venture a glance backward. Her eyes immediately widened, for her assailant’s horse had fallen a ways behind them.

“My, what’s— Oh, I know! The fire arrows must have scared him into slowing down!”

Needless to say, Liora’s sharpshooting went completely unnoticed by her.

“Oho ho, what a wimp, getting scared by shots like these. There’s no way they’d ever hit us!” she said, gloating with extremely undeserved smugness, considering her behavior just moments before.

But that was just how her brain worked. It prioritized convenience over truth; inconvenient thoughts, whether true or not, were promptly discarded.

At this rate, I think I might actually have a chance of getting away!

Her spirits had just begun to lift when something heavy slammed into them from the side, knocking them—and herself—right back to the ground.

“Ah—”

“Gaaaaaaaaah!”

You may figure out for yourselves which utterance came from who. Regardless, Mia and Bel were thrown from their steed and hit the ground rolling. As the world spun repeatedly on its axis, Mia caught a glimpse of the massive shadow that had tackled Kuolan. A shadow that was now bearing down on her menacingly.

O-Oh no... I completely forgot about the wolves.

Like the wolfmaster, Mia had also been distracted by the fire arrows and inadvertently slowed down. Consequently, the wolves managed to catch up, and one had knocked her from her horse. That was all. Just a slight lapse in concentration. And it had cost her dearly.

“Say your prayers.”

The wolfmaster, already dismounted, walked up from behind the wolves.

Oh, stupid me, getting my hopes up... So this is it. It ends here, she thought as she gazed up at the blade in his hand. I-I guess it’s okay though. I figured out who the bad guys are, at least. Next time, I’ll be able to do better. If...there is a next time...

He approached her. She watched, counting the distance between them in steps. Five more... Four more...

She shut her eyes tight. With every ounce of will she could muster, she mouthed a silent prayer. What did she pray for, you ask?

Please! Please please please don’t let it hurt too much!

What did you think she was going to pray for?

The pain...never came. Instead, there was the sharp ring of metal meeting metal.

“...Sorry, but no prayers today. She’s important. To me, and to everyone. I won’t let you lay a finger on her.”

Thus, Liora Lulu’s bare minimum had arrived on the scene. Upon returning to the academy, the first person she’d found had been...

“A-Abel!”

Abel Remno winced bashfully at Mia’s effusive gasp.

“Oh, merciful moons! Abel! You’re here! You came for me! Ooooh, thank the moons, Abel’s here to save me!”

Mia’s exuberant cries of joy were not matched by Abel. He kept his eyes trained firmly on his foe. Every one of his hairs stood on end. Nervous sweat seeped from his palms. The man in front of him was dangerous. Everything about him, from the poise in his stance to the tilt of his blade, screamed deadly. Abel tightened his grip on his sword, knowing he was staring down an opponent rivaling Remno’s champion, Bernardo Virgil the Adamantine Spear, or the Empire’s Finest, Dion Alaia.

This man...is an expert killer. That much is certain.

Being very careful not to let the man out of his sight, Abel took in his surroundings.

The wolves are a problem. I need to do somethi— Hm?

Kuolan suddenly appeared behind them. He plodded leisurely to Mia’s side before glaring at the wolves with a belligerent huff. He was joined by Abel’s steed, Kayou, who placed itself in front of Mia as if to protect her.

The thought is certainly appreciated, but horses against wolves? I’m not sure...

He was promptly forced to reconsider when, to his surprise, the wolves glowered at the horses but stopped in their tracks.

“Huh. Son of a swordseller. I see what’s going on.”

It took him only a moment to decipher the situation. Horses were assets. Valuable ones. A swift warsteed was worth a thousand gold pieces. The enemy’s wolves had likely been trained not to attack horses.

“It looks like for the time being, we won’t have to worry about the wolves. Stay close to those horses, Mia.”

“Got it! I’ll be right here next to— Hm? My, Kuolan, are your nostrils twit— Gaaah!”

There was a loud hack-a-pchoo, followed by the splatter of slime, then the dull thud of Mia hitting the ground. Abel, however, dared not dwell on this sequence of slapstick. He quickly turned his attention back toward the man in front of him.

“Thanks for training those wolves so well. All I have to do now is take you down.”

“Abel... The Second Prince of Remno then...” the masked man murmured pensively.

“Oh? You’ve heard of me? I’m honored,” said Abel. There was no humor in his voice. Or his glare. He raised his sword, adopting an overhead stance.

Strictly speaking, the circumstances had not changed much in his favor. He still faced an assassin whose prowess rivaled the likes of Dion Alaia. Though the man hadn’t attacked, his lupine allies seemed ready to pounce on any opening.

Abel could attempt a furious assault. If he paid no heed to his own survival, full-on aggression would theoretically allow him to trade some blows and buy time. Buying time, however, wasn’t enough. Their only way out of this lethal predicament was for him to defeat this formidable foe, or at least force him to retreat.

...Can I do that?

A wave of anxiety suddenly bubbled up in him. He let it, feeling it climb up through his chest and into his throat. Then...

“Phew...”

...He expelled it with a long breath. Free from distraction, he refocused his mind.

“Here I come!”

His task was simple. Momentous and critical, but also simple. As such, all that remained was for him to act. He launched himself forward with a long stride, the stomp of his foot threatening to crater the ground beneath. At the same time, he swung. It was a motion he’d etched into every fiber of his muscle through tireless practice. A motion he knew and trusted. From high atop his head, his blade came crashing down in a lethal blur, leaving moonlit afterimages in its split-second wake. It was a mesmerizing strike, the trail such a perfect crescent that it seemed the moon itself had descended to earth. It was also a ferocious strike, so swift and true that even the genius, Sion Sol Sunkland, might not have reacted in time.

Ker-chaaang!

A heavy clang echoed in the night. Under the pale celestial beacon, two fighters stood with their swords locked.

Damn it. He barely even flinched.

Abel clicked his tongue. He’d put everything he had into that one strike, only to have it be blocked with frustrating ease. The masked man peered at him through the crossed blades and spoke in a cold voice.

“A fine strike. But not enough to slay me.”

He retaliated with a slash of his own. Abel narrowly avoided being cleft in two, parrying with the flat of his blade. Then came the next slash. And the next. A relentless barrage that kept him firmly on the defensive.

Ugh, this guy’s a beast. No surprise there, but damn.

Outmatched by his opponent’s strength and speed, he failed to completely repel the furious onslaught. The masked man’s blade found flesh time and again, though never managing a lethal wound. Fresh crimson dotted the grassland’s moonlit canvas.

“I...won’t let you win!” said Abel through gritted teeth.

Though bloodied, he refused to bend, for he knew well the value of that which he was protecting. She was behind him. That thought alone kept his sword up and knees firm. He couldn’t afford to lose her here. Couldn’t afford to give up! His resolve was as steel, unbreakable and true. But—

Ka-chiing!

A shrill ring entered his ears. The sound of something snapping. He hastily backed off a few steps and held up his sword to defend himself, only to grimace. The metal of its blade failed to match the mettle of his mind.

“To battle me with that plaything of a sword... Such folly,” the masked man scoffed in a low, rumbling voice.

The weapon Abel had brought...was a training sword. Its edge had been dulled, and its durability was hardly fit for actual combat. Weapons were strictly controlled on Saint-Noel Island, and possession required express approval to be granted beforehand. That kind of approval took time—time that he hadn’t had. He couldn’t afford the slightest delay.

After being informed by Liora of Mia’s irregular behavior, he had immediately dashed off, training sword in hand, to the stable, where he jumped onto Kayou, the only horse who could catch up to Kuolan, and promptly rode off on his emergency rescue mission. It was only through this urgent commitment to speed that he and Liora managed to make it in the nick of time...but in their hurry, they failed to procure the instruments necessary to defeat the wolfmaster.

Despite their best efforts, the heavy doors of destiny refused to open. The scale of fortune remained unmoved. The thread of fate proved an inch too short to reach the future for which they yearned.

Until the dogged will of a certain girl grabbed the thread’s flailing end and pulled it taut. The thin thread was stretched very tightly...but it held, finally extending just far enough to touch the conjoining end beyond. Two silvers’ worth of loyalty she dropped on the scale of fortune. And with it, the beam tipped, summoning their most formidable ally in Saint-Noel to this decisive field of battle.

This ally’s voice reverberated through the night.

“Abel! Catch!”

At the same time, the masked man lashed out with a sideward swipe. Abel leapt into the air, his legs folding toward his chest to clear the strike, and threw his arm upward at the sky. As if drawn by his will, a sword landed squarely in his palm.

“I owe you one, Sion!”

He drew it in midair. It’s ebony glint was proof of finely forged steel. This was no toy. It was a weapon made to cut down thousands on the battlefield. Placing both hands on the hilt, he brought the blade of the military-grade longsword crashing down on his opponent. The deafening clang of metal was followed by a quiet but labored grunt as the tremendous force of Abel’s blow made the masked man stumble backward.

“My condolences to your arms, sir, which I presume are feeling fairly numb right now,” quipped Sion. “That boy swings like a lumberjack. And hits even harder.”

He strolled onto the scene with an easy pace and a casual smile.

Sion Sol Sunkland, prodigy of the sword, drew his weapon with a calm, quiet grace. His gaze briefly shifted toward Kuolan, then Mia, who stood in the horse’s shadow. She was a mess. Her clothes were drenched, and dark splotches of mud covered her cheeks and hair.

“You’ve done our friend a great discourtesy. I do hope you’re prepared for our reprisal,” he said, his cool tone betrayed by the anger burning in his eyes.

...Just for the record, while Mia’s dishevelment could, admittedly, be partly attributed to the fact that she was knocked off her horse, it was mostly because said horse then proceeded to sneeze on her, causing her to stumble and fall into a puddle of mud. Of course, these details were unknown to Sion.