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Nyte Guard: Chapter 5 - The Regents of Duneshade
🕑 Added 2025-10-16 12:00:14 +0000 UTCBy the time the Duneshade regents arrive, I’ve nearly recovered from my encounter with the Moonfall ones. Every time my gaze lands on King Merit, my stomach threatens to start churning all over again. The Bloodlust left the memories of my fight in the Oasis warped and fractured. Which guard had been the king’s friend? I can’t remember any of their faces. I can’t even remember how many I killed. Only the knowledge that I’m about to meet Quell’s parents keeps me from drowning the intrusive thoughts in five more glasses of cactus wine.
Once the procession reaches the Moonfall mesa, our group moves inside the palace. The kings take their place at the head of the great stained-glass throne room, with Moonfall royalty to their right, and all of us Duneshade guests to the left. Darian is shadowing Liz, and I’m more than happy to do the same for Quell, blending into the background with the other guards.
You know. As much as someone with a giant demonic shield strapped to their back can blend in.
Quell glances toward me with a nervous smile. I try to return it just as easily, but I must have given something away, because his brows pinch in faint concern.
“I’ll be okay,” he tells me, voice lowered. “They aren’t so bad.”
Honestly, it’s not his parents I’m worried about anymore. Before I can think to reply, however, the doors at the end of the hall clunk and groan as they’re opened.
What proceeds is a lengthy introduction of all royalty in attendance, most of which escape my attention almost as soon as they’re spoken. Lord of the Gilded Sands, Rulers of the Zezara Plains, and so on and so forth. Names and titles don’t mean much to me. How these people carry themselves tells me twice as much.
The first thing that surprises me is that Quell’s father isn’t human. In fact, he’s a species I haven’t even seen before. From the waist up, he could be any typical human; dark brown skin, short black hair, and close shaven facial hair cut in sharp designs. His strong facial features bear an uncanny resemblance to his two sons, so they’re undoubtedly related. The only thing that has me doing a double-take is that in place of his legs is a great snake-like tail. The scales are patterned with diamond designs of gold and black, which shimmer with an opalescent sheen.
[Check,] Echo says. [King Creed: Level 49 Lamia Master Illusionist.]
A lamia. I try not to stare as his snake half smoothly propels him over the floor, but, well, it’s kind of hard not to stare at a snake person. Given the existence of arachnoids, I probably shouldn’t be so surprised.
When I’m finally able to tear my eyes away from the King of Duneshade, I examine Quell’s mother. Unlike her husband, she is a human, and bears a striking resemblance to Liz. She’s shorter than I would have expected, given the height of her children, with round features, a warm complexion, and short, tight curls.
[Queen Patience,] Echo recites. [Level 51 Human Artificing Scholar]
Somehow, she projects a distinct air of hug-able-ness, an instinct which is immediately reinforced when her gaze lands on her children and her face lights in an affectionate smile. I immediately feel more at ease.
This lasts all of about three seconds before the Aegis’s attention is drawn to the individual trailing after the royals.
Prince Constance.
To be honest, he looks way better than I was expecting. The last time I’d seen him, his face had been gaunt, eyes sunken, and his muscled frame seemed to be wasting away. The Constance before me, however, looks exactly like the prince I had first met leading the charge to fight the carrion cactus. Standing straight, shoulders back, chin lifted, elaborate garb and gold chains hanging tightly about his full frame. I’m so taken aback by his perfect health that it takes me a moment to realize what’s wrong.
He lost his sword arm in the fight with the Aegis, but it now appears to have grown back. Can they do that? Can they just regrow limbs? I thought Quell said even the Lifespring Oasis couldn’t perform such types of healing.
Quell lets out the smallest breath, and when I glance his way, I find him also watching his brother—with a grimace. Quell must see something I can’t, because—
Oh. That’s right. He can see something I can’t. His family are master illusionists; it wouldn’t be that hard to make a prosthetic appear to be the original limb. In that case, I wonder how much more of Constance’s healthy appearance is also just a mirage. I attempt to Check this, but Echo doesn’t report anything. Given how skilled their family is with illusions, I’m not terribly surprised. I’ll have to ask Quell what he sees later.
The Aegis, however, doesn’t care about any of this. It’s zeroed in on Constance, though even it can’t tell why. I don’t feel that same pull that we had been able to feel toward the Crimson Scimitar before. Some of it might still linger in the prince’s arm, but if so, it’s too little for me to pick up on. Even for the Aegis, it’s at most a faint, mental itch. It hasn’t forgotten who he is, however. It remembers our battle clearly, and I somberly agree.
The Aegis would LOVE to do such a battle again! It was an exceptional fight! It does not mind the play fights we have been in since, but a real, bloody, dangerous battle would be exhilarating!
What? No! I think, baffled.
But how can we demonstrate our superiority with nothing real at stake? It craves another opportunity to flaunt our skills. With true strife! Won’t I go ask him to fight us? Or better yet, we can display our battle-ready potential to draw his attention, and then he will surely be tempted to challenge us to a duel!
I’m not doing that.
To the death!
Absolutely not!
The rubies on the Aegis begin to glow with a dim red light. In a panic, I mentally try to hold it back, but the Aegis isn’t readying any spells or attacks; it’s just excited, and there’s nothing I can do to stop that. A couple guards close enough to notice shift nervously.
Stop it, I hiss. The Moonfall and Duneshade royalty are still enmeshed in their excruciatingly long introduction customs, exchanging rote greetings. You’re going to draw their attention!
It is? Good! That is precisely the point!
The gems grow brighter, and I mentally groan. Quell finally seems to notice, and his head turns the smallest amount, glancing at the Aegis out of the corner of his eye. He lifts his brows in question.
Ugh. How am I going to explain to him that the Aegis is just peacocking without drawing any more unwanted attention?
Just then, Constance’s gaze meets my own, and I instinctively flinch. Can he feel the Aegis like how the Aegis can sense him? I want to glance away, but I stop. There’s something in his eyes that feels disjointed from the rest of him. I can’t put my finger on it, but it just feels off. Then, to my surprise, Constance is the one to break eye contact, his gaze sliding to the floor.
His gaze was empty. That’s what was wrong. Illusions may be able to cover up the hollowness, but they do nothing to get rid of it.
“And you must be Lord Nye,” Queen Patience says.
My attention snaps back to the regents, all of whom are looking at me. Crap, I was not paying attention at all to what they were talking about.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say, meeting the queen’s gaze. Wait, was I supposed to bow? Are they expecting me to say something else?
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” the queen says, still watching me with an even look.
I don’t know what to say to that, but I’m saved by Quell.
“Mother, must you tease them?” Quell steps forward, and the queen’s strict expression breaks into a smile. She holds her arms out, and Quell embraces her. This seems to be some unspoken signal to the rest of the room, as other attendees immediately begin speaking and mingling amongst themselves.
Liz also takes her turn hugging both parents. I hang awkwardly back, deciding to copy whatever Darian does. However, Queen Patience is quick to beckon me forward, so I reluctantly step up by Quell’s side. Prince Constance lingers behind both parents, engaging with no one, as if he’s merely a ghost.
“The wielder of the Crimson Aegis,” King Creed says. Except he didn’t even open his mouth. In fact, I’m pretty sure those words came from a garnet jewel resting between his collarbones. My suspicion is confirmed when he speaks again; the voice is definitely coming from the pendant. “Never in my lifetime did I think I would see the Crimson weapons uncovered. You didn’t really just find it laying around in the desert, did you?”
“Um” I say, managing to tear my eyes away from the talking necklace. “Yes, Your Majesty. Or, no, I mean—it was in a crater, recently unearthed from the battle. I just ended up in the right place at the right time.”
Or the wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how you look at it.
“Come, let us see!” King Creed says, gesturing toward the Aegis.
The Aegis is all too eager to bask in the attention of the royals.
Yes! Of course they would want to admire it. As should everyone!
I bite my tongue and remove the Aegis from my back, bringing it around in front of me so the king and queen can study it. The queen gasps at the jewel-studden face, and the king leans forward in awe. The Aegis preens beneath such worship, and the light in its rubies grow even brighter.
Now you’re just showing off, I think.
Yes, the Aegis agrees. Exactly!
I use the moment of distraction to curiously Check the pendant King Creed is wearing.
[Check,] Echo says. [A translation stone. Frequently used by lamia to communicate in spoken languages.]
Huh. Can lamia not speak? I ask.
[Lamia communicate via sign language by nature due to the lack of an auditory system,] Echo explains.
Oh no. I don’t know sign language. Am I expected to sign? I silently panic for about three seconds before I realize the king hasn’t had any trouble responding to me or any others here. Maybe the translation spell works both ways? I’ll have to ask Quell about it later.
“A masterpiece,” Queen Patience breathes. She wouldn’t be saying stuff like that if she knew how much she was stroking the shield’s ego. “I would very much like to study it. But I am told that it has formed some form of pact with you and my son?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I glance toward Quell. The cover story for why I have to protect Quell still involves the Aegis. Reluctant to expose the details of my Role Requirement, we’ve instead told those that the shield is bound to protect those of Duneshade lineage. So far, no one has dug too deep into the specifics. Though, given the queen’s class of Artificing Scholar, I have a feeling that streak is about to come to an end.
Quell nods to what I said. “Nye spilled blood on the shield, which is what woke it up and triggered the pact. But since they weren’t royalty, the shield compelled them to protect the nearest of our lineage—which happened to be me.” His gaze softens as he looks at me. “They saved my life more times than I could count.” Then he turns back to his parents, pausing to take in a deep, steadying breath. “Mother, Father…”
“Thank you for your service to the crown,” King Creed says to me at the same time. “We could use more soldiers like you in our kingdom.”
“Are they one of yours, Captain?” the queen asks Darian.
The captain doesn’t appear surprised to be addressed. “No, Your Highness. Though I’ve personally been training them ever since the pact formed.”
Creed nods approvingly. “I’m glad my son is in good hands.”
The queen chuckles. “For now at least. I’m sure you’d rather not be tied to Quell for the rest of your days. We have wonderful scholars back in the Capital who should be able to help with that.”
“Actually,” Quell says, raising his voice as he again tries to interject. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you two about.” He nervously glances my way, and I can sense the blood flushing in his cheeks and neck. “You see, Nye is… I mean, I would rather keep them around. I owe them my life, and they’re very important to me. Not just because they saved my life, I mean, but—okay, sorry, I’m getting off track.” He takes another steadying breath.
King Creed shakes his head with a faint smile. “If you can’t even talk to your parents, how are you going to be able to speak with a suitor?”
Queen Patience pats her husband’s arm. “Don’t pressure him! He’ll come to get to know his matches in time. After all, we were complete strangers when we became betrothed, and look how that turned out.”
Prince Creed smiles affectionately down at his wife, so neither of them notice when all the wind seems to go out of Quell.
“Quill,” Liz prompts him.
“I mean,” he stammers like a restarted engine. “That’s what—I wanted to tell you—Nye is my…” He swallows as the regents turn back to him, watching expectantly. “Nye is… they’re my knight.” (Liz lets out a disappointed sigh.) “So I don’t want them to be assigned elsewhere, even if their pact with the Aegis is nullified.”
I stare at Quell, and he pointedly doesn’t look at me. He hasn’t told them. I don’t know why it took me this long to realize it. I’d just assumed he’d told them in one of the dozens of letters he’s written to them since we settled in Moonfall. He’s not just nervous to express affection in public, he’s kept our relationship a secret from his parents this whole time. A sickly stone settles into the pit of my stomach.
Not again.
The king and queen said something vaguely reassuring to Quell that I wasn’t entirely paying attention to, and now they’re speaking with Liz. But I find it hard to latch onto any of their words. My mind is spinning, and Quell’s head is bowed, refusing to lift his gaze. Too ashamed to look me in the eyes.
In a daze, my attention floats around the room. Once more, I notice Constance lingering at the edge of the group, melting into the backdrop of the hall like wallpaper.
At this moment, I sort of wish I could do the same.
Conversations wash over me like ocean waves, the repetition numbing me to my surroundings. I keep an eye on Quell, of course, and respond appropriately when addressed, but otherwise I shift into autopilot, desperately wishing for the talk to be over so I can catch a breath of fresh air. It’s too hot in here. Too loud.
It’s worse, somehow, that his parents seem so nice. I don’t know why that makes it worse.
The Aegis plucks at my attention at the same time a quiet voice at my side says, “Nye.”
I wouldn’t have recognized the voice if Constance wasn’t standing right there, watching me expectantly. He should be craning over me, but somehow his hunched shoulders manage to make him appear small.
“Prince Constance,” I say, finally unsticking my tongue from the top of my mouth.
“I won’t bother you,” he says, eyes dropping once more. “I merely wish to extend my thanks. I wasn’t able to see the extent of the Scimitar’s influence until it was severed from me. Without your intervention, I’m not sure what I might have done.”
He extends his hand. His right hand, which should be missing. Mostly out of courtesy, but partly out of curiosity, I accept it. His fingers wrap around mine like a normal hand, yet despite their fleshy appearance, his grasp is cold and hard. Some sort of metal, maybe? I bet there’s a lot of spells involved.
“I hope it is a short road toward recovery,” I say, releasing his hand. When I pull away, however, he presses something into my palm.
Constance smiles wryly. “I’m very sure it won’t be. But thank you regardless.” Then the prince bows his head and excuses himself, once more drifting away to become a spectre among the laughter and lights.
I resist looking at the paper he slipped me for as long as I can. Every passing moment wondering what he gave me becomes more tempting and tortuous than the last. Finally I’m given an opportunity when I can furtively unfold the paper behind the Aegis. His message is brief.
The Marigold courtyard at noon.
Store the Crimson Aegis.
Don’t tell Quell.
