I spent the next hour grilling Relias on everything he knew about me from childhood. Rather than bore you with the details of the tedious back and forth with my reticent companion, I’ll provide a summary as best as I understand it.

No one knew my parents’ names or occupations, so my last name, Smith, was still somewhat suspect. I was just one of many young orphans who had made the journey north to Ecclesia from Western Porta after a plague ravaged the area. Apparently, I had been tight-lipped about my upbringing, refusing to divulge any details to the missionaries who escorted us once we were deemed successfully quarantined and fit to relocate. I had turned down numerous offers of foster homes along the way, insisting that I needed to make a pilgrimage to Chairo. Eventually, I found myself staying in a small orphanage in the Periphery, where I had a run-in with the duplicitous nun in charge. She was the one I remembered during my confrontation with Dolus. I had temporarily relieved her of her amity skills in response to her forcing us to beg on the streets in a neglected state just to pay for protection.

“So… that’s how you found me, then?” I concluded. “She reported me?”

“Yes, though it was more of a side note coupled with her confession,” he replied solemnly. “I had spent years looking for you, for Euphridia had prophesized your arrival. Yet disaster after disaster impeded my progress during those initial years, and I am inclined to believe it was you who ensured our paths crossed once more this time.”

That’s not how an average preschooler would act, is it?

Refusing the offer of a safe home after being displaced and orphaned?

Taking on someone in a position of authority all alone… and winning?

Just who the hell was I back then?

“The more important question is, who do you want to be going forward?”

I see you’re still here, Raedine.

“No, you only hear me. But to your point, you are constantly changing, so it is better to have a general destination in mind so you can determine how to get there. Worrying about what you once were doesn’t help with that.”

I’m… working on it. I don’t think the others will agree with my choices moving forward, though.

“Do not expect others to see things the same way you do. Yet my advice to you has almost run its course. You are already strengthening your relationships in preparation for the upcoming storm. Regardless of the path you take, there will always be conflict.”

Yeah. Even if I try to avoid it altogether, it’ll still find me, won’t it?

“That is one of the few constants of this world. Maybe even all worlds, perhaps.”

“You… seem lost in thought,” Relias observed. “Perhaps our discussion has surfaced a few cherished memories?”

“Ah… not exactly. I was just wondering how exactly I knew what to do to take her skills away in the first place. Did… all the heroes seem to know what to do instinctively?”

Relias shook his head, a shadow passing over his brow. “No... None of the others exhibited such… instincts.”

I’m not even normal when compared to the other heroes!

“I am curious. Where are the specifications for this ‘normal’ you wish to follow?”

You know what I mean! Normal. A normal person…. uh, hero!

“I do not. I have never met anyone normal, and I do not think you have, either. Yet you seem to have this idea that such a person has existed. I want to meet them.”

Sometimes, I just can’t even get along with myself.

As we continued riding, our discussion died down, replaced by the rhythmic sound of hooves hitting the dirt road. The horses behind us snorted and whinnied while our mounts responded in kind. It became difficult to hear the once lively conversation from the group trailing us as we focused on navigating the path forward. Our awkwardly silent yet noisy journey stretched on, each of us lost in our thoughts as the sun beat down on our backs.

Eventually, as I was about to try and revive our conversation once more, a piercing cry swept through the air as a dark shape descended from the sky. It sliced downward with incredible speed and force.

Relias placidly fumbled with his saddlebag before pulling out and putting on a large leather glove with a blue jewel cinching it at the wrist. He extended his arm and patiently waited as the majestic bird swooped down, latching onto his gloved hand.

“You’re even faster than I anticipated, Safir,” he said calmly to the new arrival as he used his other hand to pluck the small scroll attached to the hawk’s leg.

“Oh, that’s your name?” I said to the giant bird, hoping to build back my credibility after I had startled him during our initial meeting. “Safir has a very nice ring to it.”

I was allotted a brief, almost uninterested glance as I uttered his name before he turned away. Silence spoke louder than any words could that I should not consider him a feathered friend. His indifference to my attempts to communicate with him irked me way more than they should.

“I’m sure he’s just hungry after his flight,” Relias said, apologizing on his behalf. “I would guess there were many temptations along the way.”

“He didn’t even take a break to eat?”

“Don’t worry, I’m relieving him of duty to rectify the situation,” Relias laughed as he coaxed him off his arm with a flick of his wrist. “I can call him back by his homing jewel when we need him again.”

I watched the hawk fly off toward a small grove, certain he had already decided on his snack of choice. “It’s probably time for us to eat, too.”

“Yes…” Relias murmured absently, intently reading the contents of the tiny scroll. “A small briefing with our close companions will also be necessary. Prince Mito should join us as well.”

After halting our advance in favor of lunch, we broke out again into our small groups.

“Captain Corwin has been unsuccessful in sneaking any advance scouts into the city,” Relias explained once we had settled for our afternoon meal. “The city is on temporary lockdown. However, this in and of itself suggests that Pravum is preparing for our arrival since no other rational explanation has been given by those operating the front gates.”

“Hiding behind others is the final act of cowardice,” Tetora advised, pretending to stroke a long beard he didn’t have.

Catching the exaggerated imitation of his sage offerings, Aleph rolled his eyes. “That would work better if you exhibited more wisdom in your routine interactions,” he quipped.

Nora snickered before catching my crooked eyebrow and forcing a more serious air with a cough. “What else does it say?”

“It seems that no one in the pilgrim encampment has heard about the Turri Accords,” Relias replied.

“Pilgrim encampment?” Nora repeated in disbelief. “That's what we're calling it? The slums for protestors and others deemed unworthy of entering Chairo?”

“Protesters?” Relias subconsciously copied her protest. “They are pilgrims, dedicated and unwavering in their mission to seek acceptance from the General Assembly. We should not call them by the same name as our adversaries.”

“We wouldn’t have to call them anything if the Church hadn’t come up with such ridiculous rules in the first place,” Vernie said with a heavy harumph, crossing her arms.

“I think we all agree on everything just said,” I added quickly, noting the red mottling crossing more than one of my companion’s faces. “So, there’s no point in quibbling with each other right now. I think the more important question is why the advance group of Silver and Blue hasn’t made it to Chairo with a copy of the accords by now.”

Relias shook his head. “Captain Corwin is certain they made it, but Pravum must be withholding the information from the general public.”

“Isn’t that… something we can use against him? He’s keeping secrets?”

“Eventually…” Relias mumbled, his eyes far away. “But there are no specific rules against keeping such things secret in a time of… Crisis!” he ended with a shout, jumping to his feet.

The rest of us looked at each other rather helplessly, wondering if he was having a temporary break from reality.

I had done it a few times myself, but I had been quieter about it, not wanting to get called out.

“Um… Relias,” I addressed him cautiously. “Usually, people don’t announce the word ‘crisis’ with so much excitement and fervor…”

“Yes, crises are terrible,” he said absently, lacking any sense of conviction. “Here, please share the rest with the group.”

After tossing the scroll to me, he ran over to his rucksack only to dump its contents on the ground. “It’s just… I remembered something significant!” He picked up his gold-leafed bible, a gigantic tome that contained the smallest, most compact script possibly while still being visible to the naked eye. “Pardon me, but I must re-familiarize myself with an ancient doctrine. Please, continue your meal without me.”

“Right, then…” I replied as I watched him settle away from us with his beloved book, his supple fingers quickly rifling through its pages.

“Do not worry,” Aleph advised with a smile. “This is typical for him when he is brainstorming. It is best to let him further develop his thoughts before questioning his epiphany.”

We managed to coax him back onto his horse to resume our journey, but not before he carefully bookmarked several sections of his bible. He spent the remainder of our adventuring time lost in thought, his mare often rolling her eyes at me as if to ask if she was doing what she was supposed to.

My evening routine started with a daily debriefing with the group at large. Next was sword lessons with Aleph and Tetora, which Prince Mito also attended as a second student. He was a faster learner than I, though I would never admit to him. I consoled myself with the idea that he already knew how to use a rapier and was adjusting his technique, not learning from scratch. It didn’t help, however, that he kept seeking praise from me.

“Well, Captain? Do I have a second career as a Knight?” he joked at the end of his lesson. “In case being the Sixth Prince doesn’t work out?”

“Talk to me once you manifest your skills with amity,” I said rather callously, not thinking about my words' weight.

“Yes… would that be something I could do with Will alone…” he replied sadly.

“Ah, that was rude of me,” I replied, intuition finally kicking in. “Of course, you’d use such blessings to your full capacity. But everyone’s blessings are different, so we all work with what we have. You’re doing great, Your Highness.”

I’m sure your father is already proud of what you’ve become, Prince Mito, even if you cannot use amity like him. You’ll see.

“Indeed…” was his weak reply as I patted his shoulder in solace.

Nora wandered over, her face slightly troubled. “Relias asks that you excuse him from dance lessons this evening,” she announced.

“Done and done!” I replied happily. “No dance lessons!”

“I thought you didn’t mind them?” Nora asked, hiding her sarcasm.

“Today’s dance card is full of other tasks,” I explained with a wry smile. “I still have to meditate, drink that awful tea, worry about the future, and find something pleasant to think about before falling asleep so I don’t—” I stopped, realizing the others were listening to the conversation. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Private girl time starts now instead,” she advised, abruptly shooing off the boys. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to my BFF all day.”

“You could try to be a little more diplomatic about it,” I whispered as they wandered off sulkily.

Nora fluttered her eyelashes. “You mean like you were with His Highness just now?”

“That was an accident,” I said defensively. “You were mean on purpose.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. They know I don’t mean it. Besides, I wanted to ask how your conversation with Relias went. It seemed you two were finally speaking candidly. Did you learn anything?”

I nodded several times, folding my arms and taking a serious stance. “Yes. Something extremely important.”

“Well, what is it?” Nora stood expectantly on her tiptoes as she leaned in confidentially. “What did you learn?”

“Today,” I said in a confident voice. “I learned that my name is Rachel.”

Never before had I experienced the dark aura and crushing pressure of someone trying so hard to suppress their innate desire to strangle me.