13 Deadlines are Due (Part One)

Camille stared at the mask in her hand with a sense of longing, losing awareness of her surroundings as the memories it carried swallowed her whole. She was so lost in her own thought process she almost didn't notice the out-of-breath blonde cadet that sat hurriedly in the chair across from her.

"Sergeant!" Michaelangelo exclaimed, taking a moment to collect his bearings. "So sorry for out meeting being delayed. I-it was so sudden when you claimed you wished to have supper with me of all people."

Camille smiled at the youthful first-year officer with a fond expression on her face, "But of course Michelangelo, believe it or not, your company is much more delightful to have around than you must realize."

The blonde boy stuttered and flushed red, playing with the napkin he attempted to tuck into his shirt, "You're words...are too kind for someone like me Ma'am; and please, just call me Michel."

She laughed at his bashfulness, "Alright then, Michel it is. You will have to pardon me, I often only get to meet up with my officers during official work-related business, so it is by habit that I refer to them by full name."

"O-h," Michel sounded shocked. "So this isn't work-related business?"

"To an extent, yes it is. But it's more personal on your end."

He gave her a look that indicated he wanted her to explain, so she did.

"Right now Officer Samantharine and Officer Jones appear to be keeping a secret from me."

"Oh," he interrupted her, "You mean the incident with Sir Williams, correct? They are due to trial in a couple of months from what I've heard. I am astonished they didn't tell you yet."

She shook her head, "No they already did, though they didn't need to since I was already aware beforehand, word travels around fast it appears. I am talking about something else." She stared off into the distance, watching as droplets slowly began to patter against the sidewalk next to the diner. She should make this quick before the weather worsens.

"I have a feeling that they are keeping something else from me, and unironically, I think I can already tell what it is."

Michel cocked his head to the side, "How so? And why exactly does it require for me of all people to be involved?"

She politely folded her hands over on the table and gave him another warm expression, "I heard you have family overseas do you not?"

Once again Michel flushed, not noticing the sudden change in conversation topic, and smiled brightly, "Ah yes, I do actually! I have a few cousins who serve as news reporters and delivery folk. They are a bit older than I am and I hardly get to hear from them often but I see them as my family. They always tend to keep me company on my lonesome days but I can hardly reach out to them since they're so occupied all of the time. You see, they are in charge of shipping event flyers and global written issues all around the continents so they are quite literally overseas. Half the world won't even know what's going on with the other half if it is not for them and their assistance. That is why I look up to them so much and- oh I'm rambling." He covered his mouth once realizing how long his words were spilling out of it.

Camille paid no mind to it at all and continued to chuckle in amusement at the chatterbox personality he held.

After clearing his throat and drinking his glass of water to cut through the silence he continued, "But why do you ask?"

She simply shook her head and closed her eyes, paying more attention to the plate of food in front of her that was starting to get cold after so many hours of neglect. She picked a fork and stabbed some of the meat, "No real reason. I just wanted to ask of you that if Samathanrine and Jones may look like they need some assistance you reach out to them and try your best to help. That is mostly the majority of the official business I had wished to discuss with you"

She took a soft bite and chewed it thoroughly. It felt good to know all of her officers were in good hands for the time being despite ht unsettling feeling in her gut that never managed to leave her after the incident.

"With that being said the real reason I called you out here was that I wanted us to catch up. How has your neck been treating you?"

-

Maya knew this was a dumb idea. She should have known to have never listened to Maria. Maria was always reckless when it came to decision-making, always mapping out her plans with no sense of consequences whatsoever. She feels like an idiot to have followed along with her idea instead of putting her off from the start like she was supposed to.

If she had maybe then both girls wouldn't have found themselves locked in a dirty old dimly lit cell.

The plan for the most part, although dumb, was somewhat successful. Maria had asked her parents directly if she could take Maya out for a walk.

Her parents were skeptical that morning, since she finished all her chores earlier than usual, and could tell they were up to no good, but had no real reason to prevent Maya from going.

They made their way to the postal area and waited no more than a few minutes for the mailman to arrive. While he was distracted they slipped inside through the back of his carriage ride buried themselves under a pile of letters, attempting to keep their giggles as quiet as they could.

The first time the ride stopped a castle guardsman to open the door and confirm there was nothing suspicious inside. The second time he was waving and greeting the workers who were attending to the garden as though he knew them personally. Not long after that, the ride had picked up again to reach its final destination.

And just like that, they had made it through the first line of defense.

"Let's find a place to get off soon," Maria whispered to her, though it was too dark for Maya to see her face. "The next time the cart stops I'll open the door and look outside, if it's safe I'll let you know and we both jump out. If I don't say anything assume it's dangerous and stay here."

Maria was a terrible whisperer.

Maya snorted, "You're a terrible whisperer."

She could practically feel Maria's huff, "Irrelevant. Stop bringing up nonsense and focus. This is a very serious and very dangerous mission, y'know? "

Some time had passed and it didn't seem like the cart was going to stop again any time soon. For a second Maya had worried it was now returning back to the impoverished district. If that were the case it meant their plan had failed, and they would have a very angry delivery man to explain their rebellious actions to.

"Hey, Maria-"

"Shh!" She hushed, almost instinctively, "If he turned around we would have known."

That neither confirmed nor denied her suspicions and did very little to make her feel better about their current situation.

Neither have ever seen what the palace grounds look like save for the last page of the book Maria was carrying, so there's a good chance the castle is just that big. She hopes so or it would be more than embarrassing to get dropped off back at home.

Finally, the ride stopped and both girls let out a sigh of relief. Maria prepared herself to make her swift getaway, stumbling to step through the knee-high letters and envelopes that pooled around her feet. Maya untucked her head from under her own pile and watched her figure tread carefully to the door.

"Alrighty then," Maria huffed, still knee-deep in packages, "Sergent Sandy is making her swift getaway, report back in thirty if I make it out alive. Silence: you stay hidden, am I clear?"

Maya giggled a bit, "Aye aye captain!"

Maria scowled, "I'm an agent you idiot, not a pirate." She placed one gloved hand on the door and prepared herself to push it. "Going out in three."

She looked back at Maya for confirmation before Maya nodded. It was now or never.

"One," Maria started.

"Two..." Maya continued.

"AIYAAAAAAA!"

Suddenly there was a bright blinding light that poured into the cart making it hard for Maya to see. She heard a scream, the door opening, and a bundle of letters hitting the ground and forming a puddle. Rubbing the sudden tears from her eyes she turned to the source to find an upside Maria who had fallen on her back and the face of a clearly not so pleased mailman.

"...oh."

-

And now they're in prison.

Or rather a dungeon.

Maya didn't understand how royal jail worked but now both girls were locked inside a cell.

It seemed inhumane from one point of view for two little kids to be chained behind bars, but the both of them quite literally snuck into a reserved and highly classified area while also breaking many laws at the same time.

Now that they were stuck here the question of what came next lingered in her mind. She was well aware her actions could cause her family big trouble and soon she worried if they would have to pay some sort of fee or fine as a consequence of her actions. Now that troubled her a lot.

Maria was surprisingly quiet, though, but she could hear her pouting from where she sat. She had her knees tuck up and an embarrassingly large lip stuck out with a sour frown on her face. Her perfect plan didn't even manage to make it to stage two before they were busted.

Maya wanted to say something to comfort her friend but was scared that the minute she opened her mouth the tranquillity of silence would disappear.

Still, Maria was her friend, and a friend indeed helps a friend need.

"Ma-"

"Shut up."

...Or not.

She didn't say anything after that but continued to stare angrily at the floor beneath her as if it had offended her somehow. Maya brushed her hands against the cobblestone and frowned. How was it that the literal prison she was in still managed to have nicer furniture layouts than her actual home? It made her fantasize about what the rest of the castle would look like.

She heard a yawn from the front of her cell and figured it must have been one of the standby guards starting to doze off. A simple reminder of her current situation and how she was one step away from forcing her family into an even bigger copious amount of dept than from when they started.

It was funny how she was more worried about her family scolding her for forcing them to spend more money rather than hoping they weren't so panicked by her sudden long-night disappearance.

She crawled to the front of the cell and grabbed the bars in her hands, "Excuse me?"

Surprisingly enough the two guards that turned around didn't have demeaning scowls on theirs faces. Rather they looked uneasy, as though they themselves never intteracted with two little girls before in their entire lives.

Maya continued, "Do you know what's going to happen to us?"

One of them responded smoothly, "The King will come to visit you and ask you questions about the little stunt you pulled. As for your punishment, that is for him to decide."

"We're just here to make sure you don't run amock or cause problems for each other," answered the other.

She suspected as much.

"Do you," she had to stop her hands from trembling at the word 'punishment' leaving her mouth, "think the punishment we'll receive will be that harsh?"

They exchanged looks and shared a similar pitiful expression. "As we said that is for His Majesty to decide. We do not have the right ourselves as soldiers to determine who deserves fair judgment and who doesn't."

Maya held her head down, dejected.

"...but do not worry yourself so much little one, our King is a fair one and I doubt he would hold that much of a grudge over small children and their harmless pranks."

She appreciated the obvious sentiment, but it did little to ease her nerves. She nodded bitterly and crawled back to her spot on the floor, with nothing left to do but to wait. Afterwards some time passed and one of the guards got up to use the bathroom. This was when Maria found it most fitting to speak.

"This is still good news," She hummed to herself.

Maya looked at her like she was a mad man, "In what way does this look like good news to us?"

"We still get to meet with the King."

She said it so matter-of-factly, a calm smile on her face like the fear of punishment didn't phase her at all. She was even kicking her feet too, seemingly out of her dejected pouting phase. Maya wasn't sure if she should be annoyed or relieved.

"Even if we see him what are the odds he will actually listen to us? We're children remember?"

"Then we will make him listen," Maria hummed. "If he finds out my brother works here then I'm sure-"

"He will have him fired."

That made Maria pale in the face.

"What do you-" She started but Maya cut her off.

"If the king finds out about the ties you have to your brother you could be putting his job at risk. He might fire him thinking out actions were because of his being at the castle grounds. Your big-brother-warrior-soldier-privileges aren't going to save you this time Maria."

Maria looked peeved, and she was. Her face burned bright red as she gnawed her lip in frustration.

"What do you mean 'privileges'? Don't tell me you're just saying all that because you're jealous of me or something."

"How could I be jealous of someone who's behind bars?"

"Well so are you!"

"Hey!" the single guard outside spoke roughly. "Keep it down in there. You are to sit quietly until His Majesty returns-"

The man's well-practiced speech was cut off at the sound of a sniffle, one that startled Maya too. She turned towards where her friend sat and saw big fat tears streaming down her face, the obvious clear sign of an uncontrollable mental breakdown.

Maya quickly made her way to Maria and gripped her shoulders tight, "Get ahold of yourself Mari-"

"WAAAAAAAAH!"

Her wail was louded and echoed throughout the chambers. If there was anyone else inside the room they most definitely heard it. She wouldn't be surprised if the few knights patrolling on the outside had to stop and listen to.

The guard looked baffled, and even more distressed than Maria did. This would appear to be his first time having to handle a sobbing child before, and it was quite evident as to how hard he was trying. "T-tell your friend she has to calm down!?"

"Why are you even crying, Maria?" Maya fretted. She worried their situation would only worsen if she didn't obey the guards demands as soon as she could.

Maria could barely make a response through her wailing and stuttered out the words pathetically, "I want my big brother."

Oh.

Maya knew exactly what was going on.

Smart plan indeed but it was bound to get them nowhere. Even if the guard did go and search for her brother there was little he would probably be able to do in that type of situation. It seems as though the King's orders were obsolete and she doubts any of the soldiers would have the right to free someone from his dungeon (prison chambers?) just because they were family.

"I-i'm sorry but I can-I just can't do that." The guard fumbled among himself, looking around frantically as though he expected his friend to return soon. "I don't even know who your brother is, I can't-"

"Ughhhh...*sob* I'm so cold and hungry *sniffle* I just want to see my brother again. Please, please don't do this to me."

Maya almost forgot how crazy good Maria was at acting. She almost convinced herself that it wasn't just a bluff, but she knew her friend better than that. The guard, however, completely ate the entire thing up and looked ready to give in to her demands.

"Okay! Okay," he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of keys, "I-I really shouldn't be doing this but I'll take you out of the cage and bring you to your brother alright? You said he works here yes? Just tell me his name, I'll get you an apple- err, you're not allergic to apples or anything right?" He looked so lost and confused, completely unsure as to what to do before he shook his head roughly. "No, alright, I'll just let you out ok? Just take some fresh air and p-please please PLEASE stop crying!"

Maya couldn't believe it, it had worked! How smart of Maria to take advantage of the fact that half of these workers were most likely single and never had to deal with the whining personality of a spoiled brat. She made a mental note to herself to thank Maria for this for later.

Just as the guard's key came in contact with the lock the door to the chambers open and a figure stepped inside. He turned around expecting it to be his friend and went pale once he saw who it was.

"I don't recall ever giving you permission to let our prisoners go."

-

This day could not have gone worse for Adrian. After ordering Cyrus back into his chambers he had to watch his smug face stare at him from across the room as though he already knew what his answer was going to be.

He had almost denied him right then and there just to see his reaction.

"No." He spoke clearly and swiftly, and oh boy was the satisfying drop on his face worth it.

Cyrus was clearly taken aback, "I beg your pardon?"

He sighed and stood from his throne, marching his way down to stand face to face with the man.

"I will be straightforward with you Cyrus," he spoke. "Up until this point, I was about to accept your offer. With your experience and familiarity of the enemy's territory mixed in with the brute strength of our men, our forces would be ones to fear unquestionably. But now standing in front of you I've finally been able to see what your real intentions truly are."

"Intentions?" Cyrus scoffed. "Our only intention was to offer you our help. Whatever else you may be thinking is a make-believe false accusation created up from the figment of your imagination."

Adrian laughed, "Figment of my imagination you say?" He circled Cyrus around, stalking him like prey. "Say...what is your last name again Cyrus?"

"Roman, we've already discussed things," he answered bitterly,

"Cyrus Roman," Adrian had hummed it like it were a melody, "a familiar name indeed. I knew a worker of mine whose last name was Roman. Would you like to hear his story?"

Cyrus visible paled and yet stilled nodded.

"Very a few years ago, just when I was being selected to the throne, a young lad came washed up upon our shore clinging to a singular piece of dry wood. When we asked him who he was he said he had no recollection except for the fact that his name was Fabiosis Roman. He barely spoke our native tongue- in fact, he barely spoke at all. I knew the little lad couldn't get anywhere in our world by himself so I offered him a job at being our messenger boy. What quicker way to get him to read and write while putting money in his pocket at the exact same time?"

Cyrus's shoulders seemed to soften, an almost sad yet pleased look on his face. "What a kind-hearted soul you are, Your Majesty."

Adrian ignored the compliment and continued, "When I was sitting in my office for the time being I was contemplating on what my response to you should be when I realized something. I found it quite strange that mere days ago two other letters I had sent out previously had not yet gotten back to me. It's been a while and I was certain to have heard from at least one of them by now, but I was so busy and distracted with our current visitor I dared not to question it."

Cyrus gulped, his shoulders were heaving and there was a faint sweat tear rolling down the side of his face. He looked bothered. "You are implying?"

A rested hand came upon his shoulder as Adrian leaned in dangerously closer to his ear, "That messenger boy by chance, I do hope he's not keeping letters away from me at someone else's expense."

"Yes...let's hope."

He backed off with a grin, "But regardless, that has nothing to do with my sudden change in opinion at all." He spun around and walked his back towards his throne, placing his hand softly against the armrest. "When you first came here you convinced us on just how similar our nations both were. Our struggle for crop growth, our financial positions, how people use us for war, and how we are constantly neglected by the High Council Twelve."

"I fail to see how any of what I said was not true Your Majesty," Cyrus seemed puzzled, yet still just calming down from the unitary panic he arose within himself. "You make it sound as though I were lying to you somehow? Is it not the truth that our nations are the most struggling out of the entirety of Pyrulia? Is it not the truth that the rest of our society sees us as nothing more than just tools for war? Is it not the truth that even the High Council Twelve supports this mentality from us?"

Adrian raised his head, although didn't turn around. "The High Council Twelve is a strict group of organizers that consist of twelve different members in total. They originated from their ancestors who 'founded' the different 'continents' of Pyrulia. They abide by many rules alike and only one of them will they forever refuse to bend." He craned his neck to the side, "Strict confidentiality."

Adrian, "Being able to reach the High Council Twelve is a privilege that one should not abuse. Too many letters a day and they will make the bad habit of purposefully ignoring anything with your name on it. Only singular rulers of each Nation are granted permission to reach out to the council members. A standard that the Ember Domain fails to meet time and time again."

Cyrus scoffed, "So what? Now we're even too poor for the likes of you? You make it sound as though it is impossible for my kind to pick up a pen and paper. Our Nation may be divided by both rulers and territory but that doesn't me our status is too low to even reach the council members standards-"

"Shh."

It was downright offensive and crude for this man to make such a claim, then sush him the minute he tried to speak up against it. So what if it were true that the majority of those dwellers in the Ember Domain were so prideful they could care less for the opinion of their literal founding fathers? The Ember Domain for years and years to come has repeatedly stepped away from what they were expected to do and thrived by their own means including the means of others.

And look at them now. Sure it may be true they've turned themselves into nothing more than barbaric monsters with an endless sea of repetitive bloodlust but that's to be expected when the people who created your nation force a killing mentality onto your kind. The division is what kept them strong and mentally stable. There's no way that many people with that much blood on their hands could coexist amongst themselves peacefully without raging war at every given opportunity.

Things had to be this way, to keep their people alive. The less they interacted with themselves the more they could thrive. Sure they weren't as sophisticated as the Neo Empire but when every single person knows their way around a blade it's impossible to guarantee that there wouldn't be daggers aiming towards the head of their sole singular leader.

For crying out loud it was the reason why he was here, to begin with! To keep that division intact along with the stability of the entire world! The Dragon clan wishes to rule over everything while all he wants is for things to return back to the way they were before.

"So say you are correct and I am being too judgmental," Adrian continued. "Even if you were somehow able to reach the High Council and get your own letter of approval rejected, then how were you able to learn that we did the exact same?"

Cyrus felt his hands shake at the solid accusation. There was no logical reasoning behind how he knew the truth that he could reveal that wouldn't get him and his men deported back to their nation. At last, he still had to try, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he was not letting all the sacrifices it took for him to be here go to waste.

"I-I had just assumed, Your Majesty. Like I already claim although we resemble different elements our nations are still so very similar and alike. If we ourselves felt desperate enough to ask for the HC's assistance then it makes sense you would perhaps do the same."

Adrian laughed, "And I'm supposed to believe that pathetic excuse?" He clapped his hands, a sign of his patience cutting short, and decided to wrap things up. "Let me say it how I see it, Cyrus. In some way shape or form, that messenger boy is related to you. He informed you of my letter that I had sent to the High Council so that you could forge your own faulty response of denying my sensible claims of sparking trade with the Gaean's."

"Impossible! Forgery of the High Council is a law punishable by death amongst all the five nations! To risk my life for your approval is like trading my house for a grain of salt: Meaningless. Besides, you have no proof! How can you make such a baseless claim so confidently with nothing but a whim to-"

"Hypocrite."

The word was spoken so sharply and firm, with poison-laced on the edge of it, carrying the spite of a thousand men whom he had never even heard before in his entire life. They were all staring at him, judging him, mocking him, laughing at him, reducing him to nothing more than just the shell of the man whom he represents.

Adrian was right: he was a Hypocrite.

He had so boldly 'assumed' Adrian sent a letter to the High Council on nothing more than just a 'whim', and now was judging him for doing the exact same.

Finally, he turned, and the look he gave him shook Cyrus right to the core.

It was one Cyrus hadn't seen him wear during his entire 'vacation'. It was one Cyrus almost forgot what it looked like after years of no longer working underneath anyone anymore. It was one that compelled him to bow urgently, to kneel and beg for forgiveness that wasn't earned.

It was the face of a King.

A cold heartless, emotionless King.