Emil

A distant memory.

Faint vestiges of the unreachable past flashed in his head. His own memories pulled from the depths of his subconscious. He wished that he could say he remembered everything with crystal clarity, but time had eroded his remembrance. Too much had happened. He was born the child of an affluent merchant family. He then became a miscreant living in the slums. He died. He then artificially molded into an Exalted and turned into an unwilling agent of Steiger. Under their service, he went undercover to attend the most prestigious Academy in the kingdom. Now, somehow, he was an Exalted who was acquainted with the princess of the nation and courted by elite factions across Ardair for his talents.

Before he turned twenty, Emil had already lived several lifetimes. As such, his dreams often confused him. Each period of his life felt like they were lived by a different person, as though his body had been dwelled by someone else. Often, he woke up in cold sweat. For a moment, he would be a child again. Or a miscreant. Or a powerless trainee getting abused under the guise of training. They were reminders of his past—of how tumultuous this journey had been.

This time his dreams took him to the moments after his parent's deaths. He was wailing. His young, powerless self was on his own at the funeral ceremony, staring at the coffin that contained his parent's deaths through a simmering view. A profound sadness clung to his chest. It was accompanied by a haunting specter. Fear.

His parent's death wasn't the sole cause for his tears. He could feel it—the innumerable eyes bearing down on him. Sneering visages. Conspiring whispers.

His family wasn't particularly rich in the grand scheme of things, but they were well-off enough to incite envy. And so, in the days after the funeral, Emil found himself standing before his crumbling home. Vultures arrived to seize his parent's assets, citing debts, unpaid loans, and contractual obligations. The servants of his family had all left. Only his butler remained. The old man tried to protect the things that his parents left for him, but it would be a fruitless effort. Maybe he was incompetent. Maybe he lacked the force of will to properly fight back. Whatever the reason, Emil didn't blame him.

The old butler had no more obligations to him now that his parents were dead.

But he still tried.

Emil was forever grateful towards the old man. He never forgot his kindness. He wished he could have expressed his gratitude at the time, but he lacked the emotional capacity as a young kid who had suddenly lost everything he had.

Not being able to thank the old butler was one of his earliest regrets. It would be first of many more to come.

***

The memories faded, and suddenly he was pulled back into reality. His head throbbed. A deep, caustic pain radiated from his chest with every breath. He tried to open his eyes, but found his left sealed by grime. The conditions of his body confused him until he remembered that he had been thrown into the wall by the monstrous chameleon.

Emil shot up in a panic. Anna and Aoife were still in danger. He had to—

"Whoa! Easy there!"

A hand was on his shoulders, holding a cloth. Anna. She was watching him, visibly startled by his sudden awakening. The confusion on his face must have been obvious as she immediately began to explain before he could even formulate his questions.

"The fight is over. We won. The fallen Exalted are safe. Aoife and I are fine. The monster's corpse was already cleaned up with her Gift. Apparently, she can also create flames. Pretty damn unfair if you ask me. And you're currently being healed right now."

Emil blinked, taking everything in. He narrowed his eyes to focus his unsteady vision. Indeed, the chameleon monster was dead. The only remnants of it were its ashes and scorched bones littered on the side of the cavern.

As his panic wore off, he realized there was a faint azure veil enveloping him. The cold, chilling sensation spread over his wounds. There was a slight pressure, but it was gentle and maternal, like a soft blanket tucked over his weary body. He glanced to the side. Aoife was there with an outstretched hand. Angelic wings extended from her back, radiating the healing aura.

She gave him a mischievous smile as their eyes met.

"Nostalgic, isn't it?" she said.

Emil knew immediately what she was referring to and shook his head. She was talking about the first time they met in the slums of Lower Dannan. Before he awakened Bulwark and went undercover as a student of the Academy. Before she had made an official appearance in public as the newly legitimized princess.

Anna casted them a suspicious glance as she wiped away the dried blood over his eyes.

"We met once before the start of the school year," Emil explained, feeling bad for leaving her out.

This much should be fine to reveal, right?

Even Steiger didn't know that he had an encounter with the princess before her appearance during the Clash of Dawn. Not that he was deliberately hiding this piece of information from them, but there was no real reason to report it. He hadn't known she was the princess then, and the unconditional kindness she showed him that night when he was bloodied and bruised was a memory that he kept close to heart. It was his reminder that there were still benevolent people in this kingdom.

"What?!" Anna almost dropped the dirty cloth on his face.

"Emil, that was supposed to be our secret!" Aoife protested. The grin on her face, however, implied that she didn't really care.

"Then you shouldn't have alluded to it," he retorted.

"Actually, that kind of makes sense now I think about it. You two always seemed suspiciously familiar with each other. When Aoife joined our class, it felt like she homed in on you immediately from the beginning."

Was it that obvious? He shot Aoife an accusatory glance.

"Oops, maybe I was too overeager to see an old friend," she said, sticking out her tongue childishly.

Anna looked exhausted as she turned back towards Emil. "Was she always like this?"

"No, she had a regal air and conducted herself more elegantly. And I guess she was more naïve. But still, she felt more like a princess back then. Now she's just an unruly child."

"Slander!"

Aoife gave him a light punch imbued with healing aura. The three of them then burst into laughter as the tension from battling the monster had finally dissipated. The girls resumed their treatment in silence. Emil leaned back, relieved and grateful.

"Thanks, you two. And sorry for getting knocked out of commission early."

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"It's fine. These things happen. Do you think you're some invincible hero?" Anna quipped.

"I'm not that delusional," he said, retreating as he allowed the girls to continue their work on his body.

But sometimes, I really wished I was.

***

It took another thirty minutes until they were moving again. Emil and Anna went further down the Canticle to find the source of the dense ambient mana while Aoife stayed back to watch over the fallen Exalted. The girls insisted on giving his injuries the proper care it deserved before they resumed their mission. Emil could do nothing but remain on the ground—he had no room to complain when he had been knocked out of the fight early. Aoife's healing aura worked well to stitch together his wounds and fix his internal injuries, but it lacked potency and speed when compared to other restorative Gifts. The princess explained that her ability was intended for protection. Healing and restoration were just a side-effect that she was abusing.

Still, it was impressive. Emil was amazed by just how many things she could do with one Gift. Already, she had demonstrated healing aura, divine flames, enhanced strength, flight, and armament creation. Valkyrie bestowed her with the prowess of a divine being—or at least, her personal interpretation of what one could do—and the scope of her abilities seemed to have no limitations.

Anna continued to grumble about the unfairness of it all. She was suddenly surrounded by an Exalted who had two Gifts and one whose Gifts apparently granted them with anything she could imagine. Truly, she was accompanied by two freaks.

Not that she wasn't amazing in her right, but as usual, she was fixated by what she lacked as opposed to what she had. It was a tumultuous mindset, one that Emil knew well, but he also knew that it would help push her to keep advancing. And so, he didn't say a thing to placate her worries.

Maybe it was selfish of him, but he enjoyed her company. The work of a Steiger Cleaner was often lonely and excruciating. Emil rarely corroborated with other agents in the organization aside from Van, and until lately, Petra. Steiger was spread thin and each of its agents were expected to be self-sufficient. Having someone who knew his secret and who he could rely on to watch his back was liberating.

He could sense it—Ardair was on a downward trajectory that would only worsen with time. Whether his friends liked it or not, they would be drawn into the chaos by the nature of being Exalted. They needed experience. They needed to get stronger. They had to, if they wanted to survive.

Aoife's potential was immense and she was going to continue to grow even without him. He selfishly hoped that Anna could keep up.

The strands of mana in the air gradually thickened. They were getting closer. To Emil's eyes, the miasma almost looked tangible as though he was combing through a plume of smoke and dust. He turned left into one of the many branching passages from the main cavern, relying on the pull and tug of his senses to the changing ambient mana. Anna followed. Electricity buzzed around her limbs, ready to explode at a moment's notice. She was mostly here to offer backup in case more monsters arrived. Despite her extensive training over the past months, her sensitivity towards mana was still lacking.

Blaze's light cut through the azure miasma lingering in the area. The source of the dense mana then became clear.

As expected, there was another caret of Azurite scattered at the base of the walls. The ebb and flow of the sewer water levels created small perturbations, stirring the Azurite and causing it to leak its stored mana. Emil mentally traced the steps that they took to get here from the entrance of the Canticle that they used. After verifying the details with Anna, they seized the Azurite and made their way back.

***

Aoife's enhanced strength came in handy on the trip out of the Canticle. She effortlessly carried two of the unconscious Exalted on her shoulders and the last in her arms. The wings on her back were surprisingly strong as they managed to keep the two on her shoulder in place. Anna lugged the caret of Azurite while Emil was left empty-handed. He felt sheepish for sharing none of the burden, but the girls vehemently refused his assistance.

It was weird being treated like a patient.

He hated to admit it, but it ate at his pride. The two obviously didn't know it, but he was a Steiger Cleaner, one of the most feared personnel in the kingdom. And here he was, being helped by two ladies. One of them just also happened to be the princess.

Rohan and the witch might kill me if they found out I was using the princess for labor.

That was not including the fact that he got embarrassingly knocked out of commission at the start of the fight.

Emil winced, remembering Hortensia's words before the trip to Isarelle. She had explicitly warned him not to become overly dependent on Bulwark for defense and emphasized movement during fights. He was starting to understand why now. After repeated attempts to use Bulwark to block hits, it was becoming evident that defense wasn't his Gift's strong suit. The number of times his stone armament broke during fights was abnormal—especially when he compared it with the armor materialized by Aoife's Valkyrie.

The issue could have been his lack of understanding, but he had an inkling that the problem was more fundamental than that.

Gifts, in their purest forms, were a manifestation of their Exalted's will. It bent to their imagination, weaved by their tendencies, and forged by their instincts.

Emil simply wasn't someone who stood and took hits. He was aggressive. His natural tendency was to attack viciously and take action to seize advantages. He'd rather forcefully create openings than wait for them to emerge. Bulwark's relative weakness for defense must have stemmed from this instinct.

He sighed—not so much from realizing his flaws, but more so having to acknowledge that the witch was correct with her assessment.

I'll need to adjust the way I think about my Gifts again.

The exit of the Canticle finally came into view. They arrived at the top of the stairwell shortly after. Emil pushed open the doors. He stepped out and took a deep breath, grateful for fresh air untainted by sewage. The slight chill of the night clung to his skin like a soothing caress. Distant stars were scattered amidst the dark skies, twinkling with a mischievous glean.

As they walked out of the passageway, they could hear sounds and music softly playing from one of the Arts District's main streets.

It didn't take long for them to realize it was a performance rehearsal. Despite being in the dead of night, someone was still practicing in preparation for the Aurous Festival tomorrow.

Emil stepped into the open, curious.

He found Delilah was on a nearby stage. In plain clothes, she danced to the melodic chime of strings played by the musicians before the stage. Motes of light fluttered near her body, granting her movements an ethereal air. She sang, her voice sorrowful and pensive as though she held the weight of the world in her hands.

"Oh, that's the person who played Endora, isn't it?" Aoife asked, standing beside him.

They had all been there a few days ago in the Arts District to watch one of Delilah's performances live. Emil nodded as he remained fixated on the rehearsal. Deep down, he longed for these tranquil moments shared amongst his friends. He wished Mia and Raz could be here. Suddenly wistful, his thoughts drifted to all of the friends that they had left behind in the Lower Dannan slums. There was so much in this world that they hadn't seen. And would never be able to see.

Lately, his memories of that day seemed vague. Like a haze blanketing his sight, he found more gaps in his recollection than he liked. The wretched feelings remained a scar on his soul, but the faces of his orphaned friends became blurry. He had less nightmares about their deaths, and there were fewer times where he woke up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat.

It felt weird. Guilt pressed down on his chest, but a part of him was relieved. He was finally moving on.

Delilah's rehearsal came to an abrupt end. Not wanting to be a bother, Emil dragged Anna and Aoife back towards their destination. Their mission for the night was over, but they still had deliverables in their hands. He led the way to the field hospital to drop off the unconscious Exalted first.

***

The morning of the Aurous Festival was noisy as expected. Emil woke up, stirred by the rambunctious festivities. The wooden walls of his inn did little to block out all of the activities on the streets. He groaned, stretching out the aches and throbs of pain across his body. Aoife's healing aura was effective, but there were many parts of his body that could only be restored by rest.

He was about to retreat back into his covers when someone knocked on his door.

That's rare.

Emil narrowed his eyes as he adjusted his hair and clothes to be somewhat presentable. Bulwark formed gauntlets in his left hand hidden behind his back while he reached for the door with his right.

A plain-faced woman stood on the other side. Her posture was unusually straight. Her stance betrayed no openings. Her breathing was steady and her expression was taut and emotionless. Emil took in all of these details within a second before deciding that she was dangerous.

"Calm."

The woman muttered. She extended her left hand which held an insignia bearing Steiger's emblem. With her right, she pulled back her hair and revealed the back of her neck. A tattoo reading "Ingrid" was inked on her skin.

"Let me in," she said, shockingly composed despite Emil's hostility. He stepped back and opened the door just wide enough for her to pass through and closed it shut.

"You're a Steiger Courier," he mumbled just loud enough for the two of their ears. Ingrid nodded. The commotion from the Aurous Festival roared in the background.

"What's going on?"

It was unusual for a Courier to contact him directly rather than use a messenger pigeon. He didn't like the implications.

"I bring a message from the branch head," Ingrid began, "A man who we believe is a member of Vigil has showed himself at Thanatos."

Emil's eyes widened.

"His name is Kleine."

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