Day After the Transfer
Albedo 3
Their night was calm, absent of the rave and echoes heard in the city southward. They were on the meadows atop the west mountain's cliff, watching silent and serene the joy of their subjects as they bloomed works of fire upon the new skies to commemorate this day of their realised freedom.
In the fall of night, the skies had lit beautiful with a queer sight. A valley of stars vivid from the earth had become the celestial body, glimmering like a stuff jewel box twinkling with gold and azure. A moon thrice as fat and significant had rose east, kissing over everything with its silver luminescence.
It was such a view that finally lifted the veil of doubt, allowing true acceptance to take root in the hearts of many. Even she had found the skies mesmerizing…enchanting. And though she had never doubted, the night stars had solidified something fundamental about their sudden departure from Yggdrasil.
The sight was a dream, and further still reinforced by the high spirits of their people in their loud merry.
Albedo did not envy the raucous festivities that had overtaken many of their parklands in the wake of the peasantry's bright moods. Yet, she had not anticipated her own night's celebration would be such a tame affair.
This was not to say she disliked the moment— for how could she not indulge in joy when alone with her beloved? Preposterous. No, she had simply envisioned a more amorous setting beneath the jeweled night that had overtaken their skies.
She had expected a wondrous meal laid out under the lunar light when her husband asked her to join him on the mountaintop. It would be accompanied by sweet wine and flirty whispers of "I love you" before their passions overtook them.
Perhaps that had been her folly, being too absorbed in her fantasies that she inadvertently thought them to have become reality. It would explain why she had dressed so richly for an evening unpromised, not that shame ate at her heart when her beloved had been so enthralled by her beauty.
Her allure.
Alas, her visions were unmet, and a quiet night upon the mountaintop was her evening.
'Yet who is to say this isn't romance come true?' She mused, a huge burst of fireworks reflecting in her doe eyes glossed with love.
In her heart, this night registered as unforgettable. And she had no doubt what would follow it would be a tale fated to invoke envy within her friends and her progeny when the moment came to regale them of their genesis.
An eased smile quirked her lips as she snuggled further into her love's chest. He had a warmth to him, one that banished away the shivers brought forth by the night's cold. He welcomed the attempt with a tighter squeeze, though his attention was still lost to the city below.
Beyond her love-hazed mind, Albedo did notice that Arathron had turned serene, patient, absorbing the view with a quiet eager he seldom showed. His fashion was rustic, a mimicry of the rugs the kern wore in their daily lives.
A mingle attempt.
It seemed he too had innocent expectations. Though she wondered if he truly thought the masses would be unaware of his identity simply because his fashion was common.
'Foolish husband, your subject aren't so daft.' She thought in the privacy of her mind.
And perhaps it was fortunate that his expectations saw no fruition, the gods knew she would have turned vicious at any slander being echoed about her beloved.
They sat like that for a time, her enjoying his presence and him the celebration of his subjects.
Her love did ultimately vanquish the silence, blessing it with his voice rich with song:
"You should have dressed warm," he spoke low, yet his words echoed loudly within the dome of his spellwork. "It's a harsher weather up here in the mountains."
The end of his words were followed by a wave of warmth no doubt provoked by his silent magic. Such love and tender she knew no other women enjoyed. No, her love was treasure, and affection was his nature.
Albedo did not shy away from him because of the new warmth. "I had thought this would be a different occasion." She reminded him, her hand caressing the royal cape that now served as a blanket over the wild meadows.
Her husband finally turned his gaze to her, and she in kind pulled back from his rumbling chest to meet it whole and proper. His gold eyes were aglow in the dull light of evening, pupils flickering over her body like he had not been aware of her attire.
And such might have been the case, yet her heart was too swollen with love to even be crossed with him.
"It seems I had robbed you of a night of wonder, my love." He spoke after a fashion, a disappointment in his eyes even as he forced a smile. "I hope you will forgive my lack of attention. This day, it had been naught but rush."
She felt there was more left unsaid, but she did not pry, already privileged with enough information to deduce such mysteries with little effort…
Besides, she doubted his current grievances were a product of her doing. Though if she had to guess, her suspect would be the butler.
From the witch-maid, she learned her husband and the sorcerer had discussed the marital status of the duke— a concern shared among many as the latter's bloodline was a wondrous thing. Though with the Odle's leave of the palace, she doubted even the oblivious dragonoid would not notice the change upon them.
Thus the rest was a predictable affair.
And yet despite all this, an ember of rage burned hot in her chest at the fossil's nerve to hurt her beloved so. And although she dearly wanted to comfort him and slander the mad Tian, Albedo refrained, her visage absent of fury.
…Instead, she focused on the topic at hand. "And what of your clothes, my love? It seems you wanted to join your subjects in their rustic merriment."
Beyond her expectations, a crimson tint spread across her beloved's countenance, as if his intentions had not been so blatant. The expression caught her off guard, though the surprise was entirely provoked by the sheer cuteness on his face.
Her love sputtered, struggling to find an excuse before resignation overtook him, causing his shoulders to slump. "It truly was an inane attempt then."
Albedo giggled at the theatrics, a hand on her mouth in a failed attempt to muffle her amusement. "I w—wouldn't say that, my love." She whispered out, wiping some tears, "though I'm curious of the motivation behind it."
Sudden. Ever so sudden, an indecipherable expression washed over her beloved's face, yet he banished it just as quick as it came. Her own face displayed a hint of confusion, feigned as a spike of fear ravaged her heart.
Vowed upon her day of merger and witnessed by the Nine in the grand cathedral, Albedo had promised that she would destroy all would deem themselves the enemy of her beloved and line alike. It was the second most important vow she made, and unless requested by her husband, she would not become an oath-breaker.
Thus, this "thing" that had invoked such a guarded expression on Arathron's tender face would not be suffered to live.
This was her promise.
Her word.
Her bond.
Oblivious to her inner turmoil, her beloved adjusted his position before he laid his head upon her lap. His eyes were on hers, resolve in them. And yet his face was forlorn with several other emotions plus.
Her hand snaked up his scalp in caress, an encouraging smile on her face to coax out whatever he had on his mind. His golden gaze flickered towards the star river above, the shine of it reflected in his eyes as an honest smile stretched his lips.
"Surely, you have pondered how we came to be in this reality so removed from the madness of Yggdrasil, have you not?" He started, shooting her an expectant look.
Albedo nodded, for such a thought she had indeed entertained since her wake. "I suspect you had something to do with it. This I deduced based on your familiarity with this world."
Her loved smiled, "Indeed, you are quite right. I am not unacquainted with this world, though I cannot claim credit for our arrival here." The admittance came out unstrained. "That honor belongs to some foolish platinum dragon who likely met an untimely demise immediately after the ritual."
Albedo's brows crinkled, "Yet that still doesn't explain your knowledge, my love. As you said, this reality is removed from Yggdrasil, thus I would believe the latter's influence is nonexistent here."
Her husband raised his right hand, gesturing it in a so-and-so manner. "Some might say our presence here is akin to Yggdrasil's influen—"
"Love!" She pulled at his hair, her lack of eager for his philosophy showing.
"Ouch! Ow! I jest. I jest." He pleaded.
She knew his hurt was feigned, but her intention was registered.
"I see you still haven't developed a love for the ponderous arts." Despite his lament, amusement was in his eyes. "Tell me, my love, do you believe in reincarnation?"
Albedo's brow rose in confusion, "Doesn't your bloodline make such a thing indisputable?"
"Ah, that's a different kind of '-carnation'. No, I was referring to reincarnation, the rebirth of a previous existence in a new body."
Her eyes widened in realisation, though her beloved's eyes were back to the skies, wistful. "In another life, where the veils between dimensions were weak, this world was my obsession, its events a tale." He paused and looked at her, "In another time, this world is home to a player, warped by change and driven to madness by loss."
Arathron pointed towards the sky, towards the moon now away from the horizon. "He lingers there, a being of death and emptiness, declaring, 'The reason I have come is to claim this chest of jewels.' These words become a prelude to the misery and death sown by a creature devoid of any sense of reality."
Enthralled by this strange tale, she watched as her husband clutched his hand hard. "Then suddenly, my obsession becomes my reality, and my entertainment is a nightmare. No longer a tale. No longer amusement." His hand fell, "My first reincarnation, and my world holds perfect dominion over Yggdrasil. I know the future, and I desire its comfort. So I scheme and prepare and await my second reincarnation with hopes so foolish."
In her beloved's eyes was cold fury. Albedo bent and caught his lips in an attempt to calm him. His tension faded, lost in the passion of her love. A minute later and their breaths were high and cheeks rose with eager.
That abated too, though in his eyes was a promise of her unrest this night. She felt it too, eager for his embrace.
Arathron looked back at the sky. "I know the future, so I act saviour by ridding off the monster who be the ruin of this world. The act validates my goals, so I deny another dreamer this world and offer the souls of thousands to the entity I believe is responsible for my reincarnation. I die that night, and I am Arathron Liaqen, the 9th line to the Throne of Elgroth."
Doubt bloomed in her chest. Her love had never shown himself to be strange even in their youth. He was bright…brighter than most even. A charmer too, fostered by the sacred tutors to become the perfect king.
Wisdom he had acquired as he grew, thus her doubts of him being a reincarnation. No evil, or idiocy, save for the time he let his lust wander. But that too was a common trait within boys she was told.
But she did not voice her concerns. Not yet.
Her love continued the tale, withdrawing away from the huge firework that had momentarily stolen his attention. "I'm not a reincarnation for my entire life but I become one last night. I awaken my bloodline and the memories flood my mind. I see my prior lives and I see evil and misery. I see idiocy and brilliance both, and I know I'm no reincarnation."
A sad smile emerged on his face. "The reborn bound himself to fate and lost the battle of souls. Now, I honour his sacrifice by trying to fulfill his gentler dreams."
Albedo smiled, relieved. It seemed the "thing" that had forced such a foolish endeavour upon her husband was but an echo. "You are such a treasure, my love." She told him.
"I try, but it seems I'm only destined to fulfill only two of his desires, for he brought me more foolishness than gifts." He stood and gazed upon the stars once more.
Albedo, still sat upon her royal cloak with her regalia stained by grass sap, looked at him with eyes shimmering with awe. A radiance was her love, his back like a wall and his hair so pure in the night air.
He looked all the parts of a king even in his rustic fashion.
He spread his arms wide, as if challenging the gods themselves. In that fleeting instant, it was as though the world's light had vanished, and her love became a void. No sooner had this occurred than a silent eruption of countless lepidopterans burst forth from his body, their shimmer a spectrum of colours.
Guided, because this was her love's magic, the ghost butterflies rushed beyond the cliff and into the festive celebration beneath. A lone stray did rush for her, though she made no attempt to fend it off as her trust in her beloved was endless.
Upon its connection, a burst of exhilaration came from her heart, warmth and safety wrapping around her person.
"I am greedy, so I claim this world as mine." her love said into the night. He turned to her with a slight smile on his face. "These theatrics are no hard endeavour, thus I honour them freely."
This was no surprise to her who had known him her whole life. Albedo rose from the ground and walked towards him, wrapping her arms on his back. "And what is the last desire to honour?"
"Warmth, for loneliness is such a cold state. I was born to duty, a new heir denied proper parentage, for such was the idiocy of the last line, and the seven before that. I desire a family, a big one to love."
"I'll give it to you, my love." She promised to him.
He turned to her, his eyes now a duller glow. There was raw emotion on his face, though anger was the most. "Six hundred years ago, the dragon emperor of this world accidentally summoned the ancient treasures from Yggdrasil."
Something dreadful settled in her stomach. Albedo might not have known much about the mysteries, but she did know history.
Her husband pointed to his head. "The reborn was hubris…arrogant. He knew all of this and was capable of so much more. But he was foolish, miserable, and hollow still. Thus, he meddled with fate, and now I have countless memories rendered useless."
"Not all of them." She was quick to point to the positives.
"Not all of them," he agreed. "Yet still I rage, for rather than paradise, the moron chose story, and he didn't even do that right."
It was truly a strange tale this. And her beloved did not tell it well. She begrudged him not, of course. His emotions were wild, and he was raging still, even in his calm.
He leaned into her and brushed his lips against her forehead. "I brought freedom to my people, even guided as I was." He breathed, and turned his head upward. "I do not hate my marionette despite all his follies, for even in his madness, he saved Elgroth from certain doom."
"Yet you are greedy, and thus your anger for him grows."
"Aye," he agreed. "I could have had it all. This world…absolute dominance. The first relics within my vaults like the gods of old. No struggle. Just given, like a wish, a proper one."
"But such is not reality, my love. The fates are cruel, and harder still to please." Albedo saw it, the riddled tale her love had told becoming one and fluid.
It was a missed opportunity he raged against, dominance left unused by his prior incarnation because struggle was deemed preferable. And then there was a desire to fulfill the wants held dear, for many mercies were given in turn.
"A sad truth, but one nonetheless." He slumped, "Each century, the dragon's ritual comes to life, and the temporal flow is set awry. A relic is pulled from Yggdrasil during the moment of its oblivion, and brought to this world."
Fear did not grip her at the mention of the root-realms' doom, such was the madness inherent within Yggdrasil. That said, a sense of foreboding came about her.
"But the relics don't emerge alone, do they?"
"They seldom do." He confirmed, and it all finally made sense to her.
"Th—the Fragments of the Realm Devourer." Her breath hitched, eyes wide as she looked up at her beloved. He was calm, quiet…unafraid.
That brought her solace.
"And the outsiders as well, but no longer immortal." He pointed to the southwest, "Descendants of the first outsiders reside in the theocratic kingdom to the south. There, they worship the outsider and call them the Six Great Gods."
"Foolishness!"
Arathron chuckled, "Come now, my love. We worship a group of nine mortals who gained ascendancy after consuming the flesh of the True Catastrophe."
"That's different." She argued, petulantly even. The Nine were heroes made gods after their defiance of the vanir. They conquered dungeons, and fell monsters and deities alike.
Their ascendancy was true and proper, earned. The outsider— these players, were nothing of the sort.
"Nevertheless, this is true, and we will not insult their piety." Her husband was adamant. "This world I desire faces countless dangers, and I fear I might not live long enough to see them all destroyed."
"Your children will carry your will, my love."
A bit of mischief touched his beautiful face, though beyond it was his lust now back with a vengeance. "Alas, I have no children, thus my fears are unabated."
Albedo pushed herself against his chest, her allure potent. "But you have me, and I'm all too eager to birth you children aplenty."
He smiled bright and broad. "Then we should get on with it, I fear this night has become dull." He swept her off her feet, and an instant later she was in his arms like a maiden on her wedding night.
Albedo giggled as the space twisted and they appeared in their chambers. "You lie so well, my love."
"Not a lie. I truly want a family, and now without the curses of the vanir, I needn't restrain my efforts anymore." He placed her gently on the bed, his face honest…teasing.
Albedo was all smiles, not particularly displeased by his falsehoods. Besides, this day was a yearly affair— as per his decree. Unfortunately that was not the same for child-bearing.
The window to conceive a child older than Irisviel was rapidly closing. And regardless of the understanding they achieved in their talks in the parlour, this was still a sought after position.
Her pride as a queen did not allow her to be second. Besides, Irisviel owed her plenty for her husband's lecherous gazes. That pregnancy was probably, in some way— more than that, even— thanks to her allure and unrivalled beauty.
In her periphery, she saw a pair of maids startled in the room's corner. They watched them in shock…frozen, and she knew they were too inexperienced to be allowed access into this chambers.
"Leave us!" A wave of a hand, and they were no more.
A snap of the fingers, and her husband was sublime.
Another snap, and her allure was in full bloom.
====Author's Notes====
The Saint: As I mentioned before, it's confusing. But take heart knowing that little, if anything, of what he said is untrue. The point is, the player added so much flavor text that it essentially created a different person. When the transfer happened, he got rewritten. So, it's basically just Arathron with detached memories of what the player was in his head.
He knows that his entire life was a lie concocted by the player, but at the same time, he knows that his life is real because he actually lived through those flavor-text moments.
Regarding his anger, it's rooted in the fact that despite the reincarnated player's clear foresight, he still didn't do everything in his power to give himself (i.e., Arathron) everything. That's his grievance—his number one grievance.
I mean, most people forget that some of the World Enemies and Bosses are either world items (or parts of them) or are in possession of them. The Fragments are World Enemies, by the way. In my AU, the items aren't just objects; sometimes they can be locations, living things, or wild phenomena.
Also, their dangers vary greatly. Their general uniqueness lies in their Absolutism. For instance, Downfall of Castle and Country guarantees absolute mind control in the absence of an Absolutism negater (i.e., a WCI). However, if you have one, you can avoid complete mind control. Additionally, if you have immunity to or resistance against mind control, you can fight it or outright ignore it.
As you might have guessed, this negation doesn't necessarily work well with WCIs like World Saviour. You can't negate that kind of empowerment. The same is true for the Throne of Kings or Ginnungagap. The Wish Items are even worse.
Well, enough about that. The last thing I wanted to address is the Nine. If you haven't noticed already, this is a reference to not only Nine's Own Goal but also the Nine Realms and the World Champions. I actually have extensive lore about them. Hopefully, we'll have a theologically inclined character to justify the lore dump and the mechanics of the divine aspect of the story.
Arathron is also the 9th (incarnation) new line of House Liaqen. This doesn't mean he's the 9th king (he's actually somewhere in the 70s) he's just a new blood after the last royal blood extinct itself. I'll expand on this.
Anyway, provide feedback or criticisms. I also have 3 extra chapters on my Pa-treon under the same name. Aura's chapter (10) is next, followed by an Interlude (10.a) covering reactions and ramifications of the shutdown featuring the other transmigrator and an extra OC, and then Enri's chapter (11) introducing us to the New World proper.