Chapter 8 - Time Skip

A young man wearing a white dress shirt, closed for all but the top few buttons, was sweating slightly in his office.

The hot season had fully set in the South.

The Ball had passed, nearly two months ago now.

The paperwork after that disaster, was beyond nightmarish, as everyone was demanding information, and a response, even the Queen, expected a missive.

And they all got them.

It had been blissful peace.

The church was hunting down Spider, and their whole organization was now being hunted like dogs, not a single member would be spared, not even children, so they were busy on damage control.

Had they succeeded, they might have been able to brainwash the Hero, and have a country-level threat in their organization, but… they failed.

The other organizations in the underworld who were being supported by Spider, in their coordinated efforts, were quickly exposed by the people they had caught, and Sin gobbled them up.

Under the guise of it being because of merchants and tourists increasing the total tax revenue in Loch, he ordered that a recruitment be put out, to increase military spending, and to build a proper school, with the three disciplines within.

Magical Arts.

Martial Arts.

Divine Arts.

If a child had any of the three potentials, their lives would instantly skyrocket in quality, as they were treated as a future strategic asset by the country.

Paying off instructors and giving away food in drives, as well as investing in the infrastructure of the town through giving Ichi massive contracts, had ended up being a perfect way to keep the money from other businesses moving, so it couldn't easily be tracked.

With Loch becoming the place where a Hero was found, it was easy to say, that it was just increased tax revenue, but, it wasn't all great.

"...Why can't they just behave?" 

He wanted to peel his face off, from the frustration.

Adventurers were coming down for the yearly invasion that was due this spring from the Endless Sea, and the dungeons that were overflowing, during the warm months, but because of the Hero affair, there were several times more than normal.

Fights were breaking out every day between them, for pretty much any reason they could find to fight.

Not to mention the Hero culture, that was popping up, with countless knockoff toys and things being sold to people, it was turning the vendors and hawkers into outright scammers.

In the long run, it would only give Loch a bad name.

And one couldn't just disappear, hundreds of adventurers, though the more egregious ones, had gone missing in action, over the months.

Not to mention, Adventurers were strong.

Normally dropouts from Schools and Academies, since a commoner could rarely manage the skills from nothing to be an adventurer, and survive, they were a headache, unlanded sons and daughters.

But they were not immortals.

He leaned back in his seat, hearing those familiar footsteps.

Stephan hadn't left the labyrinth in recent weeks because of this thing, in order to avoid being dragged into what was going on, he hid there, doing all of the underground work, while Lady March was being thrown into projects under Ichi, to get her experience.

The door to his once quiet, serene private study opened wide.

A girl stood there, staring straight at him, she walked in.

He stared at his work, reading over immigration requests, and the disputes between the adventurers that were being sent to him, as well as guard reports of monster movements.

She walked around his desk, and stood right beside him, staring straight at him, waiting for his nerve to break.

Her gaze was cooking him alive.

After that night, she had not told anyone anything, and even went out of her way to absolve him of any wrongdoing others might try and pin on him for taking her away to that place, but, she wanted his support.

And every time she entered his office, it was with a request that far outstripped his normal issues.

"I'm going to tell everyone." She started walking out.

A vein popped on his neck, he could feel his blood pressure rising, "FINE! Sit, damn you." 

She was already in the middle of sitting, when he shouted, she set her hands down on her lap, and sat straight, "Rude." 

"So?" Argo didn't stop doing his work, or look up, it was likely just some other thing that she had seen, that needed cleaning, or she wanted more funds to go out to another dungeon, "Theft? Funds? Fights? Equipment? What do you need?"

He dabbed his quill in ink, and was letting it dry a little, when he felt a sharp migraine coming on.

He didn't regret saving her, but he did lament the fact that knowing what he did now, she was probably never in any danger to begin with.

In a short few months spent training here, she was already able to use Magic and Divine arts proficiently.

The only thing she was struggling on, was Aura, with her ability stunted, for an obvious reason, which was her personality. 

He could see it from a mile away.

At least, there was something she struggled a-

"-Training." 

-Argo's quill didn't slow down, his lips parting, and his voice slow but even.

"The corruption in the Church must be unbearable, for a Hero to need to ask a despised prince for training," Argo read the document over again, it was a request from the Duke of March, to come and visit his niece, "Ask one of the Junior Knights. Not only do they have the time, but also are far more experienced than I am." 

"They aren't." Constance continued to stare at him.

She already was being trained for Aura, in the Church, but their masters had different methods, none of which worked for her.

Fundamentally, the use of Aura came from one's soul screaming out, and materializing its strength through the flesh.

A manifestation of one's life.

That was why it was impossible to be anything but genuine when using Aura, and why Masters only ever practiced in secret, and used it to kill, and only to kill.

To show one's true self, wasn't easy to summon forward either.

It required a level of self-knowledge, and reflection that few had the ability for, not to mention the body needed to be able to bear the toll of the soul's true form.

To say that the Masters of the Church were less competent than him, definitely stoked his ego, but he was not someone to allow that high to last.

"Across the Three Disciplines, Aura is the most in tune with one's self. If they are true to their faith, and true to themselves in their belief, their spirits will resonate, and create Aura when summoned forward. If they aren't as good as me, then they should be investigated for heresy." 

He squinted at the paper, to decline the Duke of March his visit, would be tantamount to spitting in his face, and his sister's face, which could escalate into an armed conflict, with honor on the line.

Thousands might die, if it was scaled into a full-blown war, with this as justification, that he was hoarding the Hero's presence, and getting between the Duke and his niece.

But….

…But to accept, meant he would have to meet his sister.

He mulled it over.

"Tell me more about Aura." 

He didn't want to think about it more, and leaned back in his seat, staring at the sheet to find some sort of sign of forgery, in hopes of declining.

"I assume you don't mean religiously," Argo sighed and rubbed his temple, since the letter looked not only spotless but very well made, "Aura is you." 

 Constance's eyebrows scrunched together, this was definitely different from what her teachers had told her, "Then, why doesn't everyone have aura?"

"Because people aren't themselves," Argo signed off on the request, his heart heavy, since he had already lost the last three requests over the months, but failed to 'lose', this one too, "They lie, cheat and steal from their own souls, to produce what they want, they make slaves of themselves."

"The Masters said that Aura was a gift from God, to show mortals the right path." 

"They would say that," Argo snickered at the thought, he could see those old bastards saying that, and then realized it was a Hero from the Church, only to then see her attentive face, and straighten up a little, sighing, "The Church has some very one-sided views on things. That made them strong. But, a rock isn't right, simply because it refuses to move. Though it isn't necessarily wrong either. It's the interpretation. They're stuck in those ways, since to give on anything, would bring it all into question."

He stood up, feeling his joints creaking after sitting for so long.

He stretched his back, and had a thought, "...What are you willing to give me, for my training?" 

Her round eyes bore into him, her lips parted, "Anything." 

"Anything?" Argo looked back at her, a glint in his eyes.

Constance nodded slightly, with her hands on her lap, "I trust you." 

His eyebrows furrowed, without his consent.

What had he done to gain her trust? 

Were the stories of Heroes seeing death and disaster bullshit? 

"Then, tell me why you wish to learn Aura. What is your goal, with all this power?" Her answer, was just as important as his, here. 

Depending on her response, he would decide if she was worthy to teach, or if it was better for her to know less, lest she be morally bankrupt.

Sure, he killed people.

But the people he killed, also killed people.

He benefitted from the suffering of bad people.

No innocent blood could ever be pinned on him.

And that was something he made extremely certain of.

Constance's purposeful gaze flickered with something else.

A thought, that wasn't born from mere observation, it was not a thought at all.

Confusion, as if to ask why he was asking such an obvious question.

"I want to give back to the Lord, who chose to allow my birth, and save the needing and downtrodden." 

He could see the purpose in her eyes.

But he could also see, the questioning.

She was waiting to receive acknowledgment for those grand ambitions.

"I can't teach you." It was not hers.

Her gaze shook.

He had denied that purpose's value, which had never been contested before.

But he could not, in good conscience, teach her a single thing.

He had seen those eyes before, so zealous, and ready, so purposeful, almost, mad, before.

They sat upon the Imperial Throne.

Doing what they have to and more, for a purpose, that may not have even been their own at first, perhaps born out of necessity, or in his mother's case, greed.

It was not her want or need.

It was someone elses want, going through her, and becoming an obsession, because she had been brain washed to want that.

It was morally correct to want to help people however...

...Such a thing, born from wanting to be accepted, didn't create good, only latent evil, as that goal eventually consumes everything in it's path, no right and wrong left, only the end.

"What would you have me do, then?" Constance flipped the question on him.

Only further evidence, that it was not her own heart, that leads her, since she was still asking that, he shook his head, sitting back down, "That is not anyone's place to say, but your own." 

"I want to save people with the power bestowed by God." 

He picked up his quill, and looked at her, her eyes had a purpose, but no passion, they were soulless, and the purpose was mimicked, "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

A goal given to a walking dead, they would do so without morality, for anything that stood in their way, couldn't possibly be moral.

A puppet in the making.

She was only eighteen.

And she had been with the church, her entire life.

She was still a child, given power by God, Fate or Chance.

To meddle here, he was certain would invite nothing but trouble, and so, he chose to say only a few more words on the subject.

His lips parted, as the quill marked some things down, "Regret levels the field, for everything that lives and dies. It's our final suffering. I only ask that you look at your future, with your heart, and your eyes. Not those of the people around you." 

Constance stayed staring at him.

He had gotten a bit long-winded, and it was a bit dragging, but he had said his peace.

As someone who was a bit older, and had been in a similar position, being a prince trained to hate his siblings and fight for the throne, he felt the need to at least, give her the opportunity to change her view of the world, as he had been given, before her mind could be fully engulfed.

Whether she did or not, was not his concern, though.

Her fate, as his, belonged to no one but themselves.

What would become, or fail to be, were yet to be seen, but every avenue had been written, since the moment they drew breath, and fate began it's weave.

"...What if I'm evil? What if I want to hurt people? What if I want to fight and kill and maim, and profane the Holy Texts? Should I still follow my heart?"

He moved one document over, to the other pile, and forgot about it, as he looked to the next set of work before him.

Those were the worst things she could think of, he almost smiled, she was compassionate at heart, at least.

He spoke slowly, as he was both formulating thoughts and reading.

"When I was young, I wanted to be a Fisherman, because I liked eating fish. There was no rhyme or reason to it. I liked fish. They were shiny, and swam fast. They tasted good grilled too. So I thought, if I could just be a Fisherman, with my own shack, I would be happy forever. Obviously, I did not follow my heart, and it changed." 

He signed off on a search warrant for a missing adventurer in the deep south, who had gone to investigate the Endless Sea's progression this year.

"I wanted to be a gardener. I had seen, from the bars of the dungeon, the flowers growing, and the Gardeners laughing, and talking about the day. I thought then, that, if I could just wear a straw hat, and take care of flowers, that I would be happy. But, I did not follow my heart. It changed again." 

He began reading over the request for visiting access, by a merchant group, that was under Sin coming from the County of Inkwell.

"At last, I wanted to be a Knight. I was impressed with their resolve. How set they looked in their ways, and confident they were. They also looked cool in training and everyone respected them. So I secretly imitated them, and picked up the sword. I thought, if I was just so purposeful, I could be happy. But, my heart would change again."

He signed it off easily, after a cursory glance at it.

"What I'm saying is, people have different phases in their life. You have yet to try enough things, to know what you want to be. Your purpose is a mimicry of true purpose. Don't deny your own emotions. Explore your youth, want for things, and make mistakes. Learn from them. It's how we grow and find ourselves."

He grabbed a three-page document about an adventurer and merchant's squabble over the price of bear hide, he touched his temple.

"I thought you weren't going to teach me." She smiled a little, staring at him, her eyes curving.

He could hear in her voice, genuine emotion, and he continued reading.

"An inhuman hero serves no one any good." He returned, with a slight head tilt, and a little breath.

Why in the world, would an adventurer still sell to a merchant charging this much, and then bring it to the lord, like it was their problem, they got scammed? 

It would require an entire investigation, which they didn't have the manpower to spare.

A hand entered his view.

They grabbed the paper, he looked up at her, her gaze was a bit, different.

"This was written with malice. The penman is lying."

She could see malice? 

His mind shook and then…

"...Help me with the paperwork, please." 

"For?" 

"Anything." He slightly smiled.

She stared at him, with those eyes, "Really?" 

 He replied back honestly, "I want to rest."

Stephan was swamped by work, due to the Spider being sent to the grave and being hunted down violently, and with Rouge down, he was taking over their old territory still, as the turf wars were growing in violence by the day.

Rodrick was still on vacation as well, at his cottage near the sea. He didn't want to recall him yet.

He deserved the break with his family.

Argo's body may have been that of a Master, but he had not trained in a long time, due to circumstances being what they are, though his Aura grew stronger, his body did not, which was a dangerous imbalance, he had to somehow maintain.

With the lack of sleep and breaks, he had rarely seen the outside of this office in recent days, but even that was a sort of peace, though it was driving him mad.

Her powers were like a godsend at his lowest moment in this hellscape office.

He could almost hear the bear laughing at him, from atop the door.

"...Save the South."