"Men flee before a knight of the Eiridan Army. Demons shed skin before an Eiridan Paladin. Corrupt Noblemen are bent before an Eiridan Crescent. The bane of them all is an Eiridan Acherane."
-An Eiridan private school nursery rhyme
_____________________________________________
Templar Paladinium, Kingdom of Galiron, Eiridan Empire
Ezakem 10 AE
_____________________________________________
"Ha!" Eckard sneered right after they left the High Council and the Emperor's audience, "you'd never pass as a slave!" They were back at the Atrium and walking casually towards the exit of the building.
"You always like to taunt me, don't you?" Nash snapped back.
"See!" Eckard affirmed, "you're too full of yourself! A slave doesn't say something like that to his superiors!"
"What?!"
"You may be physically gifted, but this job requires more than brute strength, Boy," Eckard said, smiling with a raised eyebrow.
Nash just stared at his mentor then shook his head.
They finally reached the exit of the Paladinium and stood before the wide public staircase that leads to the training grounds below, a good thousand steps below. The training grounds spread for about another mile before it was the Templar Paladinium's gates. Nash admired the scene.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" Eckard remarked, following Nash's gaze. He seemed lost in thought.
A patch of trees dotted the hills beyond the gates and then it's the massive walls of the capital city of Galiron almost until the horizon. In Nash's recollection, it's the biggest city in all of the Empire, if not the entire continent in terms of land area.
"It is," Nash simply replied.
The sky above the horizon is a beautiful purplish crimson hue as the sun just set beyond it. But the most magnificent element in the scene, in Nash's opinion, is the Skybow.
Nobody knows what it is or why it exists. It has helped navigators and cartographers all over the world. A permanent bow that arcs across the sky, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other, it is most prominent and most beautiful at twilight when the sun is just leaving. Right now it's glowing a bright white against the colorful mosaic of the sky.
Directly above it, the moon Orus glowed like a penny with one side polished and the other faded. The other moon Qesh is a thin red crescent, barely gleaned far to the upper right of Orus's position in the sky.
"It'd be too bad if Semiramis ruins it again."
Nash looked at Eckard. The old man was staring into the distance, deep in thought.
'Who or what is this creature?' Nash couldn't fathom why someone as powerful as Eckard Synestra would be lost in his thoughts when it comes to Semiramis. As much as he wanted to learn about their past, he didn't want to pry. Not when Eckard has this look.
This high up, the wind blew in cold gusts. Winter is approaching.
"I take it Maceria will be cold when we arrive?" Nash instead said.
This seemed to bring Eckard back to the world.
"Yes. But it'll be gradual so you'll do fine. We'll arrive in about four months."
"It's that far?"
"It is. But also because we'll be going on a coach. A slave trade coach."
Nash's face contorted at the thought. "Why?" he had to ask. Considering the Emperor himself ordered the mission, he thought getting it done as fast as possible was the priority. "Can't we just put our masks on at the border?"
"No!" Eckard practically shouted at him. "Do not underestimate the Macerian Monarchy." The man's eyes were filled with determination. It was like he was a such completely different person Nash was no longer sure.
"Listen," Eckard declared, "from this day on, you will do everything I say."
"But…"
"Ah!" Eckard raised a finger. "Everything."
After a short pause, Eckard continued, "you want to pull this off? You have to embrace it. A slave does not speak unless spoken to. A slave does not act unless ordered to. A slave obeys completely and fully."
Nash pursed his lips as he stopped himself short before blurting out a series of questions.
Eckard waited and just looked him in the eyes. Nash fought the staring contest. A strong wind blew and ruffled their hairs but neither knight flinched. Nash began to feel uncomfortable as other knights began to make awkward glances at them as they passed by the father and son - faces mere inches from each other.
"Good," Eckard finally said and began descending the stairs. "Now you may ask one question."
Nash thought a while as he followed. "Why is this necessary?"
"Because Torrens are so rare over there in Obsidian," Eckard replied. "Know the rule on supply and demand?"
Nash just nodded in the affirmative, finally succeeding in refusing to open his mouth.
"Eiridan happens to have a lot of Torrens lying around. So there's a lot of us using the Torrent over here," Eckard said. "Over there, there's not so many but the Torrent quantity is more or less the same. Fewer users, more resources. More resources, more powerful Torrens. Far more powerful."
Nash's brow creased in confusion.
"That's why I told you this job requires more than brute force. You may be skilled, but you're not that smart," Eckard smiled, stopping to look at Nash again.
Nash glowered at his mentor but somehow managed to stop himself from speaking back. Eckard snorted. He seems to be enjoying this. But Nash still held his tongue.
"You think the High Council is powerful?" Eckard said. "Wait until you meet the Obsidian Monarchy." He started walking down the thousand steps staircase again. Nash followed suit.
"In fact," Eckard continued, "pray that you do not have to meet one. Obsidian is a different country with a different culture and different people.
"Do not ever make the mistake of underestimating something different from you. So," he stopped short. Nash paused too, anticipating.
Eckard smiled his signature smile then began descending again. "That's why we're doing it my way."
Nash obeyed. Eckard is a legend for a reason. Nash was just reminded that the man certainly knows his ways. He had a refresher on humility again. One thing bothered him, however.
He still doesn't know what to do or look for when he arrives. All the Emperor told him was to 'learn all that he can.' But he highly doubts that that is the real goal. Spying is not his forte. The Eiridan Empire has a special unit for those kinds of operations. He's a knight, specifically a Paladin, for a reason. He prefers to just bash things head-on.
He does wonder, though, if Eckard knows something. Before they left, the Emperor whispered something to the old man, and the ever-obedient soldier Nash did not dare pry.
"Something on your mind?" Eckard asked without looking at Nash. Nash nodded automatically to particularly nobody.
"What? You turned mute all of a sudden?" Eckard had stopped walking again and stared at him.
Nash gave the man a confused look.
After a while, Eckard finally relented. "Well then speak your mind, Boy!"
"I thought you just said…"
"I spoke to you. I asked you. That implied I gave you consent to speak, dumbass slave."
"Now that's crossing the line!" Nash complained.
"No! 'that's crossing the line!" Eckard shot back. "I asked you a question. I expect you to answer that question. I did not ask you anything other than that."
"Well…" Nash started. Wincing for an expected interruption. When Eckard remained silent, he immediately said his piece before the old man could counter it. "You did ask me to speak my mind, so I did."
"Huh," Eckard paused, "you're not so dumb after all."
"May I speak my mind one more time?" Nash asked hesitantly.
"Speak, Boy."
"What did the Emperor whisper to you?"
"My actual assignment," Eckard replied simply. "Ask me again after a couple of drinks and I might actually talk to you."
"Wait, we weren't talking?" Nash asked.
"I take back what I said about you being not so dumb after all. Ugh. I need a drink."
Nash just scratched his head as he followed his mentor.