Steel and Mana

Leaving the meeting, it was Arthur who came out last, stretching and yawning, shaking the tension out of his shoulders. For a moment, he stopped to think back on how his father even managed all those things at once, while he was already seeing stars from juggling everything from end to end within Avalon and the Union. Even when Merlin was the greatest help anyone could wish for... Without him organizing so many documents and narrowing down long reports to less than half their original length, Arthur felt he would simply give up on ruling. Speaking of Merlin, he had already slipped away to coordinate the next session that didn't need his presence, leaving Arthur to finally have a bit of time to relax. For the first time in the past three days, there was silence. Blessed, unbroken silence... Well...

Until there wasn't.

Just as he was about to take a step towards his room, a small thud reached his ears, followed by the unmistakable sound of a pair of little feet pattering against the hard floor... Then he heard the unmistakable hum of a child trying very hard to sound innocent while clearly up to no good.

"There goes my rest..." He muttered, recognizing the owner of the noise, turning around to face the culprit and whatever he had done this time around.

Down the corridor, a tiny figure emerged from the corner, with shoulder-length black hair that was slightly messy, blue eyes sparkling with the thrill of exploring the palace, being all alone. From somewhere, he managed to get himself a coat... It had to be one of Galahad's old clothes... not to mention the mismatched socks he was wearing, one of which reached up to his knee and the other only to his ankle. As for the shorts and shirt under the coat, Arthur could swear those were his old clothes. Where the hell did he get them from?! Of course, the boy stopped when he saw Arthur, realizing he had been caught...

"...Percival," Arthur started, putting his hand on his hips. "Why am I not surprised you are wandering around? All alone? Again?!"

It was so evident his mind was searching for excuses, realizing he could give none, so he just grinned, proudly showing off two gleaming golden hairpins sticking out of his messy black hair.

"Treasure hunt!"

"..." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing he was indeed wearing two golden pins... "And what," he began, "exactly are those?"

"My horns," Percival declared, puffing out his chest as if that explained everything. "Rawr!"

"Your… horns," Arthur repeated, coming up to him and kneeling down before his nephew. "And where did you get your horns, you little monster?"

"I borrowed them!" he giggled, continuing to act like he was a dinosaur, clearly delighted with himself. "From Auntie Fila! She doesn't need them when she dozes off... Um, um. I took the treasure from the monster!"

"Don't let her hear you call her that," Arthur's eyes narrowed, holding back his laugh, because she was anything but a monster. Well, maybe when she was alone with Galahad, but his brother had never complained about it. "She isn't a monster, Percy, so... Let's bring these back to her before she indeed turns into one. And then turns you into a frog or something." He said as he reached out, carefully removing the pins before the boy could skewer himself on them. They were unmistakably Ishillian work... Fine gold with tiny inlays of CC, and the initials of Fila and her family name. If he was recalling right, Mirian made her wear it for the wedding, and they were, essentially, an artifact capable of boosting Fila's magic in a pinch. No wonder the kid was drawn to them...

"Can't I keep them?" Percival asked, dejected as his treasure was removed from his head.

"Who told you that borrowing means sneaking into someone's room and taking it for yourself to keep...? Hm?"

"Oookaaaay..." Percival shrugged, knowing he wouldn't get far anyway, not with Arthur, "Also, I didn't sneak! I walked!" he added proudly. "They just didn't see me. That means I'm good at walking!"

"Wonderful. You've inherited your grandmother's personality and gifts." Arthur muttered under his breath, lifting the boy into his arms. "And your mother's lack of shame."

"Ehehehe!" Percival giggled as Arthur hoisted him up, looping his small arms around his uncle's neck without resistance. "Uncle Arty, you smell like ink... Like Granny Luna!"

"That's what happens when you work hard, kid," Arthur said dryly, carrying him down the corridor. "Where are your parents, anyway? I ought to have a word with Lancy."

"They were wrestling!" Percival answered brightly. "On the bed! Mama said Papa has to learn to fight better... They didn't hear when I opened the door and left, because Mama was so loud! I think Papa was winning..."

"Ah...?!" Arthur nearly missed a step, falling over, catching himself in the last minute, "...Wrestling. Yeah... A warrior needs to keep... in shape. Tsk..."

"Mhm!" Percival nodded enthusiastically. "She also said he's too stiff and needs to move faster! So I went outside... So they can practice in peace!"

"..." Arthur couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment, suppressing the laugh and slight anger that was threatening to escape his throat. Perhaps just as he and his sister did in the past, Percival also needs his own room to be separated from his parents, much sooner than expected. "Percy, remind me," he said quietly, "to never again underestimate Jila's commitment to physical education."

"Eh?" The kid tilted his head, blinking his eyes, a bit confused, "O-okay?"

"Alright," Arthur sighed, readjusting Percival on his arm. "Since you've already made your grand escape, we might as well do something useful before I bring you back. Let's give your parents a bit more time to work off their excess energy."

"Ooooh?! Adventure! What are we going to do, Arty?! Like... Can I pilot a big machine?" Percival asked, eyes going wide. "Please?! The biggest one! Can we make one that is as big as if two... no... three of them stand on each other?!"

"Ask me that after you have grown up," He answered, knowing that he had to ignore his imagination, "We will do something that you are bad at. Like apologizing," Arthur declared, gently tapping the boy's forehead. "Those aren't horns, Percy. They're Fila's hairpins and her artifact. And I happen to know your Uncle Galahad will want to hear how you 'borrowed' from his wife. It is one thing to play around, but this? This was stealing. This is bad, Percy. You were bad."

"Ohhh…" Percival's expression shifted immediately as he became visibly guilty, his eyes watering up in just a moment. While many times he would play tricks to get out of trouble, before Arthur, he wouldn't be able to mask his actual feelings... and this time, this was real. "Will she be mad...?"

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"Only if you don't say sorry."

"Then I'll say sorry!" he announced instantly, smiling again. "I will!"

"Good." Arthur chuckled softly, kissing his forehead, "If only everyone were that quick to admit their crimes... The lesson is Percival, that we don't take things like this. Okay? Only bad people do. Are you bad?"

"No!" He shook his head vehemently, "I am a hero!"

Chuckling, Arthur carried the boy through the various halls and wings, reaching the southern wing, where Galahad and Fila's room was located within the palace. Listening, he could hear their voices coming through faintly from one of the reading rooms, as they searched for them. When Arthur pushed the door open, he found Fila and Galahad exactly as expected: the former sitting gracefully at the table with a book, her lengthy hair pinned in place with a pair of— oh... Well... Nothing. As for his brother, Galahad stood near her, reading something from a folder, though he looked up at once as Arthur entered.

"Arthur?" Galahad greeted, then blinked his eyes as he noticed the small boy sitting on his arm. "Percival?"

"Caught him mid-heist," Arthur explained, stepping forward, "Turns out our little thief-in-training has developed a talent for swiping valuables without anyone noticing."

"Borrowing!" Percival corrected quickly. "I was just borrowing!" He protested, looking towards Fila, but quickly avoiding her eye contact.

"Percy..." Arthur set him down, giving his nephew a light pat on the butt. "Go on then. Return them properly."

Fila's eyes widened when the boy approached, holding the hairpins she was searching for but couldn't find, watching as the tiny boy held them out to her in his teeny hands, biting his lips, not knowing where to look.

"Sorry, Auntie Fila," he said quietly, "I wanted horns like the... Cool looking monsters do... But I don't wanna be a monster anymore, so you can have them back."

"Thank you, Percival," she said gently, finally standing up, crouching down as she took them, fastening the pins back into her hair. "You're not a monster... And you are right. You don't need to become one, because Avalon hunts monsters. So... maybe next time, ask before you borrow, hm?"

"Okay!" he nodded, then turned to Galahad. "Uncle Gala?"

"Yes?"

"Can you teach me to sneak better next time?"

"Percival!" Arthur groaned aloud, "By all the stars above—!"

"I don't think you need any more training in that field," Galahad laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "But maybe we'll teach you something less troublesome first."

"Yey! Like... like what? Some cool... magic thing?" He asked, being all fired up, knowing well that he would one day cast spells; he was just not feeling it yet.

"Did you know magic is like math, and you can add—" Galahad began, only for Percival's grand motivation to crumble, looking at Galahad with an almost disgusted expression.

"So uncool..." He complained, glancing back towards Arthur, "Numbers are boring..."

...
....
......

Not that far away from the palace, watching the autumn sun from her window on the second floor, Seltana could see the last of the leaves clinging to the trees along the main avenue, ready to fall off at any moment now. Sighing, she couldn't help but think back to how it was only a handful of years ago, compared to her now. In her own home... In her own place.

It was indeed hers, and hers alone, earned by herself, along with everything she had within it. Smiling with pride, she continued to pack as she carefully folded her officer's coat, smoothing the wrinkles before setting it into the open travel trunk beside her bed. Around her, the walls were adorned with shelves that held dozens of rulebooks, rolled-up playing mats, and remade tactical charts, each marked with a handful of colored pins and handwritten notes. They were her personal campaigns and were now also available in Krel's Toy Emporium, as the 'Guardian's Gambit' playset. Maybe her greatest achievement, although she would never acknowledge it.

Thinking about it, giggling to herself, she looked at the first figures she had ever bought after coming to this city. They were... dusty now. She hadn't played with them for more than two years, getting swept up in completing her courses in the officer's academy.

"Strange," she murmured to herself, smiling faintly, "why do I not feel like this when finding some old clothes of mine from back home?"

It was then that she heard a knock from downstairs, prompting her to come down, open the door, and find Rashira standing there. Her sister wore a warm smile while she herself was draped in a dark blue pilot's jacket, with the insignia of Avalon's freshly reestablished Eagle Corps shining on the shoulder. If anyone told her that Rashira would choose this path for herself, nobody could have guessed it, at least, that was what Seltana believed. Yet... here they were. While she became a strategist, something she always wanted, her eldest sister graduated from horseback riding to flying.

"You look ready for war," Rashira started, her voice both a bit teasing and proud.

"You are one to speak," Seltana stepped aside, chuckling, "Come in before the wind blows you away."

"Thanks," she entered, her eyes scanning the tidy space. "Still can't tell if you live in a home or an outpost," she said, running a hand along the edge of the table. "Not even a single flower?"

"Flowers are more Meyli's thing," Seltana replied without hesitation. "I am more of a... Figurine-type."

"Figurines, hm?"

"Are you here to say goodbyes?" Seltana asked, beginning to make tea for themselves.

"I am. I will be assigned to the Third Pass for this winter and will be leaving with the Eagle's Nest... But I asked for a few hours' leave before that," Rashira replied, glancing out the window. "You are also to leave for Avalon's Pride tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yes," Seltana nodded. "Before sunrise, in fact. I was just finishing packing up."

"Mhm..." Rashira hummed, surprisingly calm and relaxed, compared to how they were when their father sent them to Avalon. "So I thought I'd say goodbye before any of us vanish."

"Ominous," Seltana muttered, her eyes softening. "I don't plan on doing that."

"Me neither," Rashira chuckled, turning towards her. "But you never know. I had already visited the others, so... Anyway. I like to be certain."

"Did Meyli try to talk you out of it, too?" Seltana asked, lifting the whistling kettle from her stove.

"Oh yes!" Rashira laughed out loud, holding up her cup for Seltana to pour it out. "As for Tarsine, I left her a letter because she may not even return from her tour of the three empires until the end of winter."

"Maybe she changed the most between us," Seltana muttered, sitting down and holding up her steaming hot tea, blowing on it.

"We have all done well," Rashira nodded, honestly believing it. "Father would've been proud."

"Pft," Seltana looked down into her cup, holding back her scowl, "I doubt it. I think he'd be confused. His daughters flying? Commanding? Marrying foreigners? Wait, no, that part he wanted. Anyway... He wouldn't give a damn and would be pressing to make Percival into a Khulmani asset."

"Yeah..." Rashira shrugged, "Yeah, you are right..."

For a long moment, they sat like that, sharing a quiet moment, reflecting on how far they had come from Khulman... more ways than one. In the end, breaking the silence and finishing her tea, Rashira eventually stood up, wandering toward the shelves where Seltana's old miniatures stood guard. Her sister was right... Instead of flowers, everywhere one looked in her home, little figures were guarding everything. Spices, napkins, the soap in the bathroom... They were everywhere, even if one didn't notice them at first.

"You keep collecting them," she said softly, turning it in her hand. "Krel must be happy."

"I just wish I had more time to play with them, too," Seltana said simply. Then, after a heartbeat, she added, "But, they are good decorative pieces, as you can see. It is a kind of meditation for me, buying and painting them... It keeps me... relaxed. And I can't help it, Krel always has some great designs."

"I wonder if you will have your own figure one day." Rashira chuckled, turning back towards her sister.

"Eh... That would feel weird."

"Why? It is possible! You are already kind of famous, no?" She continued, "You know, I chose this path because of what you said. You were right... So... Every time I fly, I think of you."

"Huh?" Seltana tilted her head, "Why?"

"Because I used to look at things from way up close, refusing to take a step back." Rashira answered honestly, "Now I see it from above. From up there, it's all... different. You were right... Seeing from a higher vantage point changes everything."

"Just don't forget to come down safely, okay?" Seltana muttered, standing up and walking up to hug her sister.

"Hey," Rashira giggled, hugging back, "I made it into the Eagles... You know better than anyone that it means I am also part of the best that Avalon has to offer! You don't have to worry!"

"Heh..." She let her go, looking into her eyes, "You do have a bit of Jila in you, after all."

"Don't tell her that." Rashira grinned, not denying, "But of course I do. We all do... that's why we are sisters. So... Keep yourself safe, too, Seltana. Then we can relax in the spring. Maybe I will even let you teach me how to play this game of yours."

"Mhm." Seltana nodded, smiling warmly at her, "That's a promise."