"Ready the gates! The parade begins!"
Joen could hear the festivities of Aeterna's Harvest beginning outside - in a drab city like Atara, this would be the only time of the year that one could ever hear a chorus of joyous citizens coming together to celebrate a common good. Whilst Joen was a big fan of such occasions, he couldn't help but think that Egos would be grimacing at the thought of such busy crowds and roaring feasts - if he was not currently still unconscious from his injuries.
Whilst they were colleagues, and good friends, Joen didn't quite like Egos enough to spend the most celebrated and revered night of the year sitting by his assigned bed at the infirmary whilst his wounds healed. As a result of this, the knight found himself among more healthy company - the members of his squadron in the Divine Constabulary: Soteria's Service.
"Three cheers for Soteria's blessing! Loud and proud now!"
Ah. Of course. Joen could recognise that voice from anywhere - it belonged to one Krey Ohm. Despite his large frame and imposing muscularity, the man was famed for his laidback demeanour and personable attitude towards his work. Whilst sometimes Joen thought he was perhaps too loud-mouthed for his own good, it was undeniable that the other officers working as part of Joen's squadron were bolstered in moral sheerly from his presence in their ranks at all.
Amongst the jaunty cheers and hollering of Joen's men, he did not spot his primary adviser, Cherrol Errae. As soon as he had begun to ponder her whereabouts, a gentle tap on his shoulder signalled the knight to turn around, revealing exactly who he was looking for.
"You look shocked, Maidknight. Seen a ghost?" She spoke softly, lips upturned coyly at the corners into a teasing smirk.
"Oh, no, I was just wondering where you were, and then there you are! It's almost creepy how you seem to appear almost exactly when I need you."
"You need me? For what? Want the low-down on where we should sit at the Grand Banquet later?"
"No, your expertise won't be needed there yet. I was just going to ask if you'd heard from any of the officers over at the Laugh House squadron?"
"Nope, they've been almost entirely silent since King Bradley ordered that dispatch up north. Common theory is that they got waylaid by the roads up there - it's hard to see with that sort of frost."
The Maidknight felt his gut turn - something about that theory didn't seem quite right. He had often found that his baser instincts had rarely failed him when it came to his intuition, but for once Joen reasoned with himself that perhaps he was just being paranoid. After giving Cherrol a dismissive shrug, he continued towards Atara's only landmark, the Blessed Gates. In the city, they were the only thing that could be seen as truly impressive - of course, the King's castle and quarters were impressive enough, but every city had those. The Blessed Gates were Atara's and Atara's alone, however, and were a great source of pride for its people.
As his squadron navigated busier and busier streets, Joen soon felt cramped by the volume of people who had poured out into the city walkways - amongst the rabble, there were thousands of stories. This was evident in every modicum of their actions; towering beastly men roared and forced beer down their gullets, whilst market vendors desperately pleaded with anyone they could shout down to purchase their wares. Some of the city's more fortunate residents had opened their upstairs windows to sit by, wistfully watching the mass of humanity joining together to celebrate Aeterna's Harvest for yet another year.
As they squeezed through the writhing sea of Ataran citizens, the officers of Soteria's Service were starting to lose their earlier vigour as the streets cramped to the point of claustrophobia. Joen felt his hands grow clammy and started to find even the smallest things immensely irritating - something that Cherrol had picked up on by the sight of her squadron leader gritting his teeth.
"Make way! Soteria's Service coming through!"
Whilst they were clearly uniformed and grouped together, without Cherrol making a bellowing call, it seemed as though the crowds wouldn't have dispersed of their own accord. But once they heard the name of Atara's finest domestic squadron the people dispersed into the sidestreets, clearing the way to the Blessed Gate in mere moments.
As the gates came ever closer, the pendant around Joen's neck began to emanate a low hum - it was a deep, bassy sound that caused the knight to feel the power of his deity in his ribs, which ached with tension as he inhaled sharply. Once his squadron was directly facing the sheened surface of the gate's golden enormity, his pendant's hum silenced. For just a fleeting moment, Joen's world was silent. There was nothing besides him and the blessing of Soteria - as the city and its crowds fell away behind him, a divine voice struck his thoughts.
"Oh, those gates. What a beastly thing..." The Maidknight scratched the back of his head, as if trying to distract himself from that uncanny feeling of another's voice hijacking one's internal monologue. And yet, the voice continued. "Here again, my knight? I pity you for having to spend your limited time on this planet amongst the other deities' vessels. I shall open the Blessed Gates now - if that is what you wish."
"Grant me entry, Goddess of Service."
"And thus, it is as you wish."
Soon enough, the bumbling crowd, cobbled walkways and general bustle of Atara returned to him, and the voice of Soteria dissipated back into the constellations just as quickly as she had appeared. With this, the Blessed Gate thundered its empyrean call, making way for Soteria's Service to walk past the gate's gaping maw into the belly of the beast. Even with such grandiose surroundings, Krey could still be heard behind rallying the squadron members with his jolly shouting.
Joen's feet soon crossed the line between Ataraxia's residential district into its interior - as he walked further into the city's inner walls, the memory of his mother's explanation of the interior's exclusivity came to mind. She had always said that the greatest honour in Atara was the ability to enter through the Blessed Gate into the interior; even the city's wealthiest residents could not purchase entry past the gate, and those chosen by the Gods were the only allowed entrants. Its restrictive nature had led to all manner of folklore evolving through Atara's history, and was the source of a great number of cautionary tales that Ataran parents would use to stop their children wandering around the city's seedy streets at night.
"Steel yourself, Maidknight, we've got feasting to do!" Krey entirely ignored the hierarchy of his squadron and raced straight past Joen, beelining forwards further into the interior. His hulking frame bobbed up and down as the mass of armour messily thrown onto his body clanked with each step, and all Joen could do was watch; he just didn't have the energy to babysit a child in the body of a beastly man.
Inside the city walls, everything was brighter - the frequency of streetlamps increased, and the roads were paved with heavy slabs of concrete that evened out the ground below. Each building was crafted sturdily and painted alternately in aquamarine and white to match the colours of the Ataran flag. Few people lived here. No raucous crowds or booze-fuelled batterings; no beggars on the street wrapped in shredded cloth; and nobody who did not fit into the upper echelons of Atara's society was walking the street. It had only been a recent change by the royal decree of King Bradley that the members of the Blessed Few's assigned squadrons could join them in the feast for Aeterna's Harvest, and, by extension, past the Blessed Gate. For some members of Joen's service, this would be the first and last time that they would ever be able to see such grandiose displays of elegance and luxury. As if to alleviate Joen of thinking about the fate of his troops, his advisor chimed in with a well-timed observation.
"All this patriotism is making me feel ill," Cherrol remarked, a disgruntled huff leaving her slightly parted lips as she made conversation with her colleague.
"Eh, it's not that bad. Although the colour scheme could use some work." Joen offers his opinion with a shrug, picking up the speed of his walking as he noticed they were already near the meeting point for the banquet.
"You sound like Egos. You know, just the other day he was complaining about the stained glass windows in the training hall? It's like the man has never been pleased with anything in his entire life. Aside from that time when you bought his lunch because he got mugged at Sekiel's Hollow."
"He must really not have liked them, then. The idiot ended up shattering one of the windows in a tussle with the first division commander this morning." As Cherrol opened her mouth to reply. the Maidknight shushed her with his finger; they had just reached their destination.
King Bradley had a reputation for hosting the most lavish festivals and banquets in honour of just about any celebration the man could get his hands on - it was evident to the members of Soteria's Service that this preceding reputation was well-earned. They had just left the residential district of the interior, and yet the banquet's many accompanying stalls and entertainment troupes were already directly in front of them.
Whilst Joen wanted to visit every single different vendor and activity he could manage, the group were already running slightly late due to the Maidknight getting wrapped up in paperwork regarding Egos' medical assessments. By his estimation, the group could manage to make it to the main banquet hall with a few stops along the way. As he turned around to his squadron behind him, a shocking realisation dawned on him: they had all dispersed into smaller groups to take advantage of the various entertainment facilities that surrounded them. It was in moments like this that he began to lament being one of the Blessed Few and taking the offer to be a squadron leader.
It was going to be a long night.