Amelia Thornheart-Chapter Eighty-Six: Departure I

Their final night in Asamaywa was, as Serena had expected, one where they didn’t get all that much sleep. Their justification was simple: the upcoming journey across the Southern Passage to Ishaq was highly dependent on the weather, and was expected to take anywhere from one to three weeks. Given that Serena was never truly alone on the Vengeance, engaging in the kinds of activities that she had… gotten used to… wasn’t a possibility for someone of her upbringing.

While she would be able to show some affection, she could hardly commit to anything that would sate Amelia’s shameless lust on the ship, even in private. ‘Private’ on the Vengeance always carried with it the addendum of Anathor’s omniscient presence. While Serena doubted an old Formless like Anathor cared too much about intimacy, she felt uncomfortable going that far with him watching.

So they made the most of their final night and, despite showing her fair share of embarrassing expressions throughout the experience, Serena woke feeling refreshed and satisfied.

“Carriages should be here soon,” Serena said, neatly tying her hair. “I’m sorry I can’t be there. I’ve got to meet the new officers. I need to give them a rousing speech and finalise the preparations.”

“Mmm!” Amelia hummed. “No worries! I’ll be in and out before you know it! Ah…” She held her hands in the air, as if reaching for the sky. “I can’t believe we’re finally leaving! It’s only been two months, but it feels so much longer! So much has happened!”

“And so much more will happen, I imagine,” Serena mused.

“And where would these events be happening?” Amelia slid up to Serena, wrapping her hands around her waist. “You want to tell me where we’re sailing to?”

“You’ll find out in a few hours,” Serena said, rolling her eyes. “Until then… operational security.” She wagged her finger in front of Amelia’s face, letting it rest on her girlfriend’s soft lips.

“Bleh,” Amelia stuck her tongue out and then began to nibble on Serena’s finger. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, they’re here!”

Serena flared her aura, stretching her senses. Amelia’s insane perception never ceased to amaze her. Her girlfriend wasn’t mistaken. After a few seconds, the sound of multiple carriages’ wheels and dozens of pairs of shoes made themselves known. She heard a familiar voice talk with the drivers before making their way to the gatehouse.

“Johan’s here,” Serena said. “Let’s go.”

She and Amelia headed outside, walking through the winding garden to the gatehouse where Johan was waiting. Despite carrying a box, he maintained his usual dignified presence: the aura of a practised butler developed through decades of refinement.

“Lord-Prospect Thornheart,” he intoned when he saw them. “Lord Halen. Good morning.”

“Good morning!” Amelia chirped.

“Morning, Johan,” Serena said. If the butler had any thoughts about why Serena was at Amelia’s estate so early in the morning, he showed no signs of it.

“Your insignias have arrived, Lord-Prospect,” Johan said, passing the box to Amelia. “I’ve taken the liberty of including several wax seals, appropriate writing instruments, and chequebooks. A copy of your identification documents are included as well. Should you ever lose them, you can have new ones printed at the Hall of Records.”

“Amazing! Thanks, Johan!” Amelia set the box on top of a nearby table and eagerly opened it. “Whoa!” she exclaimed, pulling out the precious symbols that now represented House Thornheart. “Check them out!” She held them towards Serena, who took one and examined it.

“So you kept it simple, after all?” Serena said, tilting the insignia to catch the light. Amelia had taken the universal symbol for humanity - a circle with a cross inside, touching the circle at four points, dividing it into equal quadrants - and the symbol of demonkind, a circle with two arrows attached to the outside, pointing outwards, representing two horns, and combined the two. The result was a human symbol with two arrows acting as horns.

It wasn’t exactly subtle. It practically shouted Amelia’s political philosophy, but it had a simple elegance that Serena could appreciate.

“And here I was, thinking you were going to become the first house represented by a peeka,” Serena said with a smile, handing the insignia back.

“Oh, that was the original idea!” Amelia grinned, holding up her thumb and forefinger. “I was this close to going with it, but Mel persuaded me to go with the symbol combination in the end!”

Somewhere in the back of Serena’s mind, her opinion of Officer Mori skyrocketed.

“There are several types of insignias you should carry with you or have close at hand at all times,” Johan explained. “Traditionally, signet rings are worn by direct members of your family. As the legal Head of House Thornheart, you should wear the golden ring. Centralis tradition requests the ring be worn on the little finger of the non-dominant hand, but Eastern tradition encourages it to be worn on the ring finger. As your family grows, your golden ring will be passed to your husband’s finger, if you choose to pass the title of Head onto him.”

“R-right!” Amelia nodded, casting a glance in Serena’s direction.

“The silver rings will identify the remaining members of your family,” Johan continued. “The bronze, silver, and gold pendants are yours to give away to people of good character who are aligned with your goals. Granting someone a bronze or silver pendant signifies House Thornheart stands behind them. The gold pendants grant legal permission to act on behalf of your house. Should you desire to hand one of those out, you will also need to write a contract explicitly stating what legal rights you are granting the beholder and for what duration.”

“Don’t give them out lightly,” Serena warned. “Even bronze pendants should be treated seriously. Just as a person might be defined in society by what Houses have granted them their insignia, a House is defined by the people it chooses. Typically, a person would be both friendly and beneficial to a house for many years before receiving a bronze pendant. Bronze is, after all, the traditional metal of friendship.”

“And what about silver ones?” Amelia asked, grinning as she tapped her chest. Serena knew underneath that shirt Amelia was wearing the silver insignia of House Halen. Serena had given one to her in Kenhoro to ensure Amelia would face no trouble in the city, and to prevent other Houses from trying to steal her for themselves.

What? Serena thought. It was an exceptional circumstance!

“As for silver… other than exceptional situations,” Serena said, suppressing a sigh at Amelia’s grin. “We’re talking decadal or even generational long mutual-relationships before silver pendants are handed out. Silver is the traditional metal of alliance, so understand what it implies.”

“And gold?” Amelia asked. “What does that metal represent?”

“Leadership,” Serena answered. “Hence why it’s worn by the Head of the House. It’s also the metal of marriage. Eastern tradition tends to be more subtle, with rings of gold exchanged during the wedding ceremony and worn on the ring finger. In Centralis, women wear golden hornbands to signify their marital status.”

“Mmm, understood…” Amelia dug into the box, bringing out a silver pendant and holding it out to Serena. “Here you go! The first alliance of House Thornheart! If anyone threatens you…” Amelia flexed one of her biceps, winking at Serena. “I’ll beat them up!”

At least it wasn’t gold, Serena thought. How would she even react if Amelia tried to give her a golden insignia!? That said… how would she react? Could they even get married?

And… why did the thought of it… feel so warm?

“I will have to inform Highlord Halen of this bestowal,” Johan said, interrupting Serena’s thought.

She blinked, focusing again. She took the silver insignia and, stepping back, performed a perfect curtsy. “Thank you, Lord-Prospect Thornheart. As long as I carry this insignia, I will bring good fortune to House Thornheart.”

Amelia grinned, performing her own curtsy. “You’re welcome!” she said, blushing slightly.

Johan politely coughed. “Regarding your other request, Lord-Prospect Thornheart, Highlady Halen would be delighted to furnish and decorate your estate. She only needs to know the budget and theme you desire.”

“Oh! Uh…” Amelia scratched her cheek. “I’d want a bit more colour. More flowers, I reckon. Just in general more warm and welcoming. It feels awfully empty, doesn’t it?”

“Warm and welcoming, I understand,” Johan bowed slightly. “Rest assured, Highlady Halen’s experience in Manwese teng shua will have your estate becoming the talk of the city once she’s finished with it.”

Amelia glanced at Serena as if doubting Johan’s words.

“Mother knows her interior design,” Serena said, giving her a reassuring look. “I’d suggest a budget of two thousand denarii. There’s-”

“Two thousand!?” Amelia spluttered. “That’s the monthly wage of two hundred and fifty soldiers!”

“That’s the minimum you can spend without any guests feeling insulted,” Serena said, raising a finger. “Being a noble is as much about presentation as it is action. In general, the more expensive the presentation, the more sincere the action. Trust me, when you see the result, you’ll be amazed at what Mother’s able to achieve. You’re a noble and a Speaker. People expect you to have a certain amount of wealth. It’ll cause difficulties if you try to deviate from the norm.”

Serena knew Amelia wasn’t the type of woman to care too much about being wealthy, but lavishly decorating her estate was more for potential guests than her. Cascadian society was heavily stratified, and that stratification was all the more prominent in the polite and refined Eastern Terra Firma. People needed to show and display class signifiers. If they didn’t, then other people wouldn’t know how to act or talk.

“...Fine,” Amelia crossed her arms. “But I’m not moving on the children!” She turned to Johan and enquired, “Did you sort it out, Johan? Did you find them an appropriate instructor?”

“I…” Johan glanced at Serena before continuing, “I could not find a teacher of high enough standing who would be willing to put their name on the line. Please understand, Lord-Prospect, that these are lowborn orphan children. They have had years of bad habits ingrained in them. Training them as workers in your estate will likely-”

“Nah,” Amelia interrupted, shaking her head. “It’s important to me. If someone complains, they can take it up with the church. What I’m doing is following the Bible’s teachings, anyway. If you can’t find a teacher of high standing then loosen the requirements. Even if you have to pay more.”

“Highlady Halen might find it-”

“I’m sorry?” Amelia raised a hand to her ear. “Is this my estate, or Serena’s mother’s?”

“Ah…” Johan fumbled his words. He eventually looked to Serena for help.

“They’re good kids, and they respect her,” Serena said. “The one looking after them, the woman named Kiku, owes a debt to Amelia. She’ll keep the children in line. Find a teacher, Johan.”

“...Yes, Lord Halen,” Johan intoned, turning to Amelia and bowing. “Apologies, Lord-Prospect.”

“Don’t forget to pay them a fair wage, Johan!”

“...Yes.”

With the subject of House Thornheart’s affairs in order, they exited the estate to a line of carriages. One of the carriages was for Serena to take her to the docks, while the other three were for transporting and guarding Amelia to her healing event. In addition to carriages full of guards, Greatlord Oshiro had ordered an entire squadron of Old Guard to walk alongside her carriage.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

There were more than fifty pairs of horns, ready to protect Amelia at a moment’s notice. Not that she needed protection, of course. This was more about Greatlord Oshiro making a statement.

“You have everything you need?” Serena asked. “You won’t be coming back here.”

“O-one moment!” Amelia darted back into the estate, returning soon carrying a strangely shaped bundle and a large bag full of wrapped items.

“Are those…?” Serena asked, frowning.

“Presents,” Amelia said with a grin. “Christmas presents!”

“I see…” Serena raised an eyebrow. “Should I take them with me? Free up space for your carriage?”

“No!” Amelia shook her head. “You’ll shake them and try and figure out what’s inside, won’t you!?”

Tsk! Serena clicked her tongue. “Of course not!” she protested.

Damn it. Amelia had seen right through her.

Amelia put her presents in her carriage. Someone stepped in to offer her assistance, but the man was waved off. As much as Amelia was passable in most areas of etiquette, she was terrible at letting others do physical work she wanted done. It was something Serena avoided correcting. She knew Amelia liked moving and using her body, having told Serena once that every step felt like a celebration of health.

“See you in a few hours,” Serena said. She gave Amelia final words of encouragement before entering her own carriage and proceeding to the docks. On the way, she idly played with the silver insignia Amelia had given her. She really hoped Amelia wouldn’t start giving them out like sugarfruits. Too many and she would stifle her House’s options in the future.

She felt a growing excitement about leaving. It was a strange feeling, not one she normally experienced on the eve of a deployment. Usually, she felt a sense of focus and duty, her mind occupied by nothing but the facts of the mission. This time, her mind continued to interrupt her thoughts with unnecessary things. How would Amelia react to all the new sights and experiences? What face would she make when she tasted Southern food? What-

Serena shook her head. She needed to focus.

She arrived at the docks. Stepping down from the carriage, she strode towards the gate.

“When Lord-Prospect Thornheart arrives, have someone show her to the Vengeance’s bay,” she instructed the gate guard, returning the man’s salute.

“Yes, Captain Halen!” the man earnestly responded.

Approaching the ship, she saw a flurry of activity. Steam cranes hissed as they lowered the final barrels and crates into the Vengeance’s hold. She saw her weapons officer, Officer Thorne, walking the length of the ship’s deck, checking the guns’ muzzle covers. Allston, her chief engineer, was discussing something with his niece. When he saw her, he strode over, saluting.

“Captain!” he announced. “All on schedule. We’ve installed the new flipdot displays in the engine and gunnery turrets. Green on all tests.”

“Good work, Allston,” Serena replied. While the ship's turret pods were being integrated with the new Ambler Firing Tables, Serena had taken the opportunity to connect flipdot displays throughout the ship to the stations on the bridge. At a flip of a switch, she and her officers could transmit orders throughout the vessel, no longer relying on older technology like the speaking tubes.

“Where’s my First Officer and Quartermaster?”

“Heh.” Allston rubbed his chin. “They’re breaking in the new officers. You know what they’re like.” He gave her a knowing look and jerked his head towards the ship.

Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll go on ahead. Dismissed.” She walked across the gangway and onto the Vengeance’s deck. There, dozens of her crew saluted her when she passed, quickly resuming their work loading the last crates and barrels.

She made her way to the officers’ quarters. After the Dragon had disbanded her ground forces, they had been rather empty without the squad commanders occupying them. Now, as she approached, she could sense their new occupants: her former students.

She could also hear Dagon and Tomes.

She slowed down, taking the time to eavesdrop.

“This ain’t your normal ship, you bunch of softhorns!” she heard Dagon exclaim. “You’re on the Vengeance now! Cap’n might have played nice at the academy when she had a lot of eyes on her, but now you’re in her territory, ain’t that right, Tomes?”

“Right you are, Dagon,” Serena heard her quartermaster smugly reply. “You put one horn out of line, one slip of the regulations, one wrinkle on your uniform, one second late to watch, and you’ll be lucky to get away with only a flogging, isn’t that right, Dagon?”

“Aye,” Dagon replied. “I’ve seen her strip away flesh from bone with a single lash of the whip! When the Cap’n gets her horns twisted, you better pray to the Seven Hells you weren’t the ones to twist ‘em!” There was a dramatic pause where Serena could imagine Dagon raising a finger. “If you were, you better hope she doesn’t throw you off board! Ain’t that right, Tomes?”

Serena rolled her eyes.

“That’s right, brother,” Tomes answered, audibly shuddering. “I still hear their screams at night. You’ll never forget the cry of a man being thrown overboard. Lucky for us all, the Cap’n is fair, isn’t that right, Dagon?”

“Aye,” Dagon replied. “Fair is the fair way to put it. As long as you softhorns jump when she tells you to jump, without any hesitation or questioning orders, you’ll be fine. Just remember, this is her territory. She hears everything and sees all! The ship’s guardian knows your every thought! Aint that right, Anathor?”

Now Anathor was getting involved!?

“Hmm… right you are, First Officer,” Anathor's gruff voice could be heard along with a few yelps of surprise that Serena guessed came from Ido and Arin Song. “Any whispers of disagreement or even mutiny will reach the Cap’n’s ears before you can even think of taking them back!”

“Oooh, mutiny,” Tomes said, his voice lowering. “A terrible word, isn’t it, Anathor?”

“Terrible, Quartermaster,” Anathor replied. “All those hangings the First Officer had to oversee. Rarely seen so many bodies hanging from the masts… I pity the demon who dares to think of mutiny!”

“Pity is all we can do for those poor fools,” Dagon said. “And let’s not forget the other important rule on the ship! No acting against our resident human healer! Remember! She’s a Lord-Prospect and Speaker. You will be respectful towards her and you will not answer anyone’s questions about her when we make land. What she does, what she says, and where she goes is confidential unless the Cap’n gives you express permission to discuss it! Remember what happened to Officer Lin, Tomes?”

Who the hell is Officer Lin? Serena thought.

“Oh, poor Officer Lin,” Tomes said with a sigh. “Thought he could make a bit of coin in Kenhoro, didn’t he, Dagon?”

“A bit of coin he certainly made,” Dagon intoned. “A few extra denarii for leaking the activities of our healer to a friendly face that bought him a few drinks, isn’t that right, Tomes?”

“A few drinks and a smattering of coin, that was all it took,” Tomes said. “And what happened to Officer Lin when the Cap’n found out, Dagon?”

There was an elongated silence, but Serena could imagine Dagon drawing a line across his throat.

“That’s right,” Dagon eventually said. “Punishment fit the crime, in my opinion! This is a military ship. A slip of your tongue could cost us our lives! Should you ever find yourself called to the Cap’n’s quarters, look for a skull-shaped cup. Cap’n drinks wine out of it and…” freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Serena rolled her eyes a final time before striding into the officers’ quarters, interrupting Dagon’s imaginary tale of a skull cup in her quarters.

“Attention!” she barked, causing everyone in the room to jump and salute her earnestly.

She thought about commenting on Dagon’s and Tome’s stories, but decided against it. She wasn’t sure if she could do it with a straight face, considering the faces of her new officers were as pale as the White Moon. Somehow, telling exaggerated tales of Serena’s punishments had become a sort of hazing ritual for new crew members.

Well, she didn’t have any desire to stop it. It was relatively harmless compared to what she’d heard happening on other ships. Besides, Dagon was right; a slip of the tongue in the wrong place at the wrong time could cost them dearly. It was better for her new officers to be scared and obedient, encouraging reliability, than confident and casual, encouraging complacency.

At least, until they settled in.

“You’re on the Vengeance,” Serena said, watching her former students hang on to her every word, not daring even to blink. “A mighty military vessel, with a public list of achievements longer than your horns, and a secret list of achievements longer than your parents’ horns. You’ve been chosen by me because I believe you have what it takes to help grow that list.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Seeing the twins visibly gulp, she continued, “You’ll soon meet Officer Bright, who is returning to service after a training sabbatical. You’ll answer to her. She’ll answer to my First Officer.” Serena motioned to Dagon. “Who answers to me. As for who I answer to…” Serena took a breath. “The Vengeance is no longer leased to the Eastern Admiralty. My orders now come directly from Centralis Intelligence.”

She let the words sink in. “You understand what that means?” she asked. “The missions you will be involved in will be highly secretive and serve not just the interests of our Eastern homeland, but the Empire as a whole. That information is, in and of itself, a secret. Tomes will give you instructions on how to answer probing questions from superiors outside your direct chain of command. Know this; I am the ultimate authority on this ship. I will always act with the best interests of the crew in mind, damned what the upper brass think!” Serena glared at the surrounding demons. “That means the well-being of everyone is in my interest. You won’t betray my interests, will you?”

“No, Captain!” the students shouted in unison.

“While carrying out your duties on this ship, keep a keen ear and eye out. If you see or hear anything suspicious, call for Anathor and report it. He’ll report it to me. He'll hear you whether you’re in here, on the bridge, on the deck, or in the observational towers. Isn’t that right, Anathor?”

“Yes, Captain,” Anathor replied.

“I expect you to be as tight-lipped about our resident Formless as you are regarding our resident healer, whom you are entitled to request healing services from at any time, understand?” After another chorus of affirmative responses Serena continued, “Lord-Prospect Thornheart will travel with us as a civilian advisor. That means neither you nor she can give the other orders. If you encounter issues regarding her, pass it up the chain of command. I understand she has…” Serena felt herself frown. “A unique personality.”

Amazingly, everyone in the room, including Dagon and Tomes, quickly nodded.

“A final warning,” Serena said. “As talented as you all may be, you’re young and inexperienced. The hardhorns that make up our crew are unlikely to respect you immediately. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that because you have a stripe on your shoulder, it entitles you to that respect. That said, if any of them refuse to salute you or speak foully behind your back, report it to your superiors. They’ll ensure that behaviour stops, and if it doesn’t, I’ll step in.”

For some reason, when she said this, their ashen faces turned even more pale. What did they think she would do? Hang someone for grumbling a few grievances? Well, now she thought about it, that was probably exactly what they were thinking.

“I’ll leave Tomes to bring you up to speed on the operation of the ship and your schedules,” Serena said with a nod before turning to Dagon. “First Officer, any sign of Officer Bright?”

It was Anathor who answered.

“She just arrived on deck, Captain,” Anathor said. “She’s… pacing.”

Serena blinked. “She can pace all she wants when she’s dead. Tell her to come to my quarters, Anathor. Tell her I have important matters to discuss with her.”

“Telling her now, Captain.”

“Good,” Serena faced her new cohort of officers. “We’ll be leaving in less than two hours. If you have any final messages you wish to send to your families, speak to Communications. Dismissed!”

With a final salute, Serena left the white-faced officers and proceeded to her quarters.

Stepping inside, she immediately felt a sense of comfort. There was her wooden desk and chair, with all the scratches and marks right where she left them. Her bookcase, cabinets, painting of the Empress, Anathor’s moose head… all were where they should be. Serena crossed the room, opening the door to her bedroom, where two hammocks lay empty, set up so they were suspiciously close to each other.

She felt a smile form on her face as she remembered that time months ago, when Amelia not so subtly insisted the only good place to hang a hammock was coincidentally right next to hers. Amelia hadn’t exactly been subtle, had she?

“Anathor,” Serena said.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Just so you’re aware…” She swallowed. “Amelia and I are in a… romantic relationship.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Serena’s forehead furrowed. “Understood? Is that it?”

“Should I have responded differently?”

“No,” Serena said flatly. “I just… thought you might have an opinion.”

“Hmm…” Anathor mumbled. “The purest form of love I ever witnessed was between two women.”

“Oh?” Serena turned to look at the stuffed moose’s head. “When was this?”

“A long time ago…” Anathor answered. “Before the Long Discordancy.”

“Did it… end well?”

“Hmm…” Anathor became silent, seemingly thinking hard about his words. “The love they had transcended endings. It persists, even today, even after one of them died.”

“Even today? What do-”

“Officer Bright in the hallway, Captain,” Anathor interrupted. “Five seconds.”

Serena moved to her chair, pulling it out and sitting down. She tried to clear her mind, but struggled to stop thinking about Amelia and love. What form of love did they have? It was fair to say the initial stages of their relationship were pure infatuation, but it had grown beyond that now. Could it be described as pure love?

Serena shook her head as a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” she called.

As the door opened, a final thought regarding Amelia flashed through her mind.

That idiot wouldn’t do anything ridiculous during her last hour in Asamaywa, would she?