“I’ve told you everything that I can remember,” the man who went by Xueyan pleaded.
Strangely, Argrave hoped that the man would be a constant rhymer, if only so he could have some vague tie to Norman even despite the strange situation. Apparently he could rhyme, but didn’t always do so. The more questions Argrave asked, the more of a dead end that he reached. Frustrating as it was, he’d gotten the full story from Maestro Baobao, and this empty shell bearing Norman’s visage told no more stories.
Xueyan had woke up on the eastern shores of the Great Chu without so much as a memory of his own name. He knew how to speak, how to live, but little more than that. He was taken in by a local village, then joined a travelling troupe, then joined the opera. A set of happy coincidences... but Argrave couldn’t believe things aligned that perfectly. Someone was pulling the strings. Erlebnis? Sataistador?
“I don’t think he lies,” said Anneliese begrudgingly. “Your memory of this man is likely better than mine, but they do look identical. I believe that is where the similarities end.”The source of this content no/v(el)bi((n))
“Do you know me? My real name, my memories?” Xueyan asked urgently, his haunting red eyes looking between them.
Argrave looked at the man, wanting to call him Norman. He felt what was almost an instinct to fight him. But in the end, Argrave suppressed these thoughts, turned around, and looked up. There, the Alchemist waited for his signal. With the slightest of nods from Argrave, he was spurred into action. Almost faster than Argrave could see, the Alchemist knocked Xueyan unconscious with a spell.
“I’ll find out any secrets he holds,” the Alchemist promised, stepping past Argrave. “Refrain from putting me in the stone for the time being. I would not wish to move him from this location too quickly. Tell Elenore to contact Stain.”
Argrave gave one last look at Xueyan—Norman—then turned around with a grim shake of his head. “I want to know anything you learn.”
“And you will,” the Alchemist vowed.
Argrave walked away, and Anneliese joined him. She explained what he’d missed, searching for answers down here. “Governor Zen was contented being foisted off to court Patriarch Dras instead of us. Once he learned the Veidimen were our allies rather than subjects, he almost seemed eager to proposition the elf. But the governor underestimates the steadfastness of our people. Dras won’t give him anything.”
“Mention anything to him about the Palace of Heaven?” Argrave asked.
“No, only that the plans would come after the wedding ceremony.” Anneliese opened a door, and they marched up the stairs of the opera houses back to the now-empty booths. “We shouldn’t be too far behind. A boat is waiting for us.”
Argrave and her walked in silence through the largely-empty opera house, but eventually he broke the silence. “Have you noticed anything strange?”
“Despite my efforts, no.” Anneliese inhaled, then held out Rowe’s staff. “Rowe tasked me with killing Traugott. I bring this everywhere for that reason. I’ve been searching for him frantically, ready to draw it. Even Traugott wouldn’t be fearless enough to appear here. He’d die in seconds. Even I might succumb, empowered as I am.”
Argrave looked at her. “Sounds like something’s troubling you.”
She smiled bitterly—an expression Argrave had often made when Anneliese had read his emotions, without a doubt. “I don’t feel it will be as straightforward as with Dimocles.” Anneliese looked into one of the empty booths, and the waterlogged stage beneath it. “Traugott is older. I think he’s smarter. And his A-rank ascension... it disquiets me. When we were in Sandelabara, and I looked into the gaping hole that Traugott created...” she trailed off.
“I suspect so,” the Alchemist confirmed. “That may change, minutely, as the man refines his methods. But ultimately, it’s nothing more sophisticated than the chimeras that I can already create. No one can truly imitate Sophia’s power of creation. They can only make copies of what she’s already created.”
Argrave felt a degree of unease and relief in equal measure. Traugott was proving to be among the cleverest foes that Argrave had faced—cleverest mortals, at least. Argrave tried to ensure that he didn’t have any repeat encounters with enemies... no one to bear a grudge, come back prepared. Yet countless times, Traugott had escaped him. He hoped, for their sake, Anneliese did have her opportunity to kill him.
“Do not relax quite yet,” the Alchemist said. “There was a message within his kidneys. This is the reason I deigned to return at all.”
Argrave tried to take most things the Alchemist said in stride, but paused for half a second upon hearing that. “In his kidneys?”
“Someone placed a metal tube within one kidney. It preserved a paper. It requested your presence at a certain location in the Great Chu.”
Argrave felt a rush of distrust, yet with it in equal measure, a rush of ambition. He expected a trap—something unideal, to understate what might be waiting. Yet at the same time, Traugott had displayed ample arrogance, appearing before Argrave and Orion alone and trusting his ability to escape them by vanishing into the Shadowlands. If Anneliese could lock him down... what better opportunity did they have to end him? But then, perhaps Argrave’s eyes were larger than his stomach. Sataistador, Erlebnis, Kirel Qircassia, and now Traugott... a veritable buffet of foes.
“You have that paper with you, I hope.” Argrave said simply. He had too many thoughts to parse through at the moment.
“I do. Now release me, and I shall return to further dissect this body.”
“Body? What have you...?” Argrave asked, but shook his head. “No—it doesn’t matter. I leave his fate to your discretion. This time.” He released the Alchemist from the Ravenstone near the entrance to the imperial palace.
“My discretion? It seems you learn.” The Alchemist handed Argrave the iron tube, unlocked with the note within it still, then left into the dusk.
#####
Though Argrave couldn’t deny he was far more focused on the incredibly distracting happenings, he tried his best to be mentally present for the wedding ceremony itself. The note contained little more information than what the Alchemist had conveyed—a request, a location, and a time two days from now. With no other hints, Argrave put it aside. Hopefully, Elenore’s investigation would bear fruit. But Traugott was as fleeting as a shadow.
Bride and groom, previously donning their own garb, received outfits in an extremely bright red. Orion’s outfit looked somewhat tight, yet it suited Ji Li rather well. The ceremony was held in the throne room, with the emperor acting as the officiator. They waited for the suns to fully disappear and the red moon to shine bright. Then, with the Great Chu’s symbol watching above, bride and groom walked into the throne room while all the guests waited on the sidelines. The vows had been discussed beforehand—they were in Great Chu land, so they performed Great Chu vows. Besides, Orion found them fitting.
Ji Li swore to the son of heaven and her ancestors that she would be faithful and true, and would maintain his household and persist in her wifely duties no matter what came. Orion swore upon Vasquer, both the kingdom and his ancestor, to maintain Ji Li’s honor and dignity, and to protect her from all manner of harm. It seemed somewhat controversial among some he did not swear to the emperor, but despite that, Ji Meng blessed their marriage, pronouncing them man and wife.
Rather than give her the Vasquer name—most present didn’t even know it—Ji Li became Sun Li. The couple had obtained the permission of the living, but now they needed to call upon that of the dead. Empress Tai Si, wearing a veil of black that descended to the ground, led Orion and Sun Li into the crypts. There, Sun Li would ask her ancestors for approval.
After, Orion would take her to his homeland to ask his ancestors for their approval. If he could talk, Felipe III might not give it. Most of their forefathers might not approve. But the only one that actually had a say—the ancient Gilderwatcher, Vasquer—probably would. Not that Sun Li could hear her voice, of course. Orion’s mother was intended to lead their journey home, and though her mental state had been improving, it wasn’t yet enough to let her perform that role.
For all intents and purposes, the marriage was sealed. Orion was now a married man. It marked the Great Chu, this indomitable nation, as fully under the thumb of the Blackgard Union. Some great many tribulations awaited them—threats from above, in the Palace of Heaven, from their ‘allies’ in Sataistador, and in the shadows from Traugott. But Argrave felt his allies were every bit the match.