Imperatrix Fallen: Alith's Cradle

XVII

The Order of the Semper Virginem Protectorate is composed of women serving the paladins. It began as a group of mothers who, after losing their sons to war, offered their services to the great warriors of the Sky County. Over time, it transformed into an institution that recruits women of all ages who cannot or are not permitted to fight, but still wish to contribute to military campaigns.
Introduction to "The Road," by JF Sickel.

The six Victrix officers sat around the table. Cisa appeared cheerful, while the others pressed their lips together in tension.
"How did we not see it coming?" Jasper muttered.
"Enough already," Linda shot back. "He used forbidden arts to change his appearance and pull off all those tricks in battle. What could we have done?"
"It was always him... we just didn't see it. We failed."
"It wasn't always him," Cisa interjected.
"What do you mean?" Morti asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
"There's so much you don't know. But it's not time yet," Cisa responded cryptically.
Before they could press further, the door to the office opened. Rola entered, exhausted. She didn't bother with greetings.
"The girl knows nothing," she announced. "Neither she nor her companions have any idea."
"You mean Blanca?" Valz interrupted.
"Yes, her. Agora raised her from childhood, along with her entire group. They're war orphans, trained into mercenaries under her command. Ironic, isn't it?" Rola sank into a chair. "The sword was always with him, and they never noticed it change form. I also spoke to Makia's friends... aside from the death of her parents the day before the attack on her academy, there's nothing remarkable in her life... I never..." She collapsed onto her arms, the exhaustion clear in her voice. "I thought it was post-traumatic shock, typical in events like this..."
"How many hours have you been interrogating?" Jasper asked, concerned.
"Twenty-seven hours. Don't interrupt." She paused, then resumed. "I didn't believe what I gathered in the interviews. Transmutations? Someone able to change position instantly? But I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes. Now I have to complete the reports on the Angel, official code Ragüel 00—if the Sacros even allow me, and don't file it away as 'Prohibited Techno-Creation – Archived as Closed.'"
"How is Valeria?" Linda asked.
"Fine, at the boy's funeral. The good news is, for all intents and purposes, his death was caused by the Angel."
"We should be there with her," Linda said.
"You should," Rola agreed. "Go. Cisa and I will join you shortly."
The others exchanged glances but said their goodbyes to Rola and Cisa, leaving the room. Valz hesitated briefly at the door. "Don't be long. She needs us..." he urged before leaving.

Once alone, Rola knew she had to begin the interrogation, but something felt off. Cisa, always so sad, fragile, delicate in her movements, patient in waiting, and charismatic in her disappointment, had recently shown a strange change in behavior. "That's how she used to be... before that day... when she still observed the world."

"How did you do it?" Rola began.
"What is it you really want to know, dear?"
"The vector force field! It was you! How?"
"No... you don't want to know that. It's too boring." Cisa smiled, folding her hands in her lap like a mother about to tell her children a story. "What you want to know is how Makia could transmute, and how I managed to stop him."
"Yes... I need to know..."
"I'll tell you, but only for your ears," Cisa said, pulling out a harp and beginning to play.

The walls vibrated for a moment. Rola stood up, panic rising as the room around her darkened. When the light returned, they were no longer in the same room, not even in Frontera III, nor in the present.
"Where are we?" Cisa asked, still playing her harp.
"This is..." Rola examined the walls, noticing the portraits of the six Victrix officers, plus Roth. "The old palace, where we used to live. When Alan was still alive... and Valeria..."
Cisa stopped playing, and everything went black once more.

They returned to the original room, where they had started. Rola collapsed into a chair, her body shaking as a cold sweat dripped down her spine. She tried to process what had just happened. "How was this possible? An illusion!"
"What did you learn?" Cisa asked.
"It's the harp."
"It's the object, not the person."
"Then Makia...?"
"The scythe. This harp can alter the physical reality around us. I can bend reality with it, within certain limitations. The scythe allowed Roth to perform his disappearing act, and Makia as well."
"But that doesn't explain how Roth came back... or where you got the harp."
"The harp found me when I was a child. I assume the sword somehow ended up in Agora's hands, and eventually with Makia... As for Roth, I don't know. Perhaps the scythe retains some kind of memory..."

Rola mulled over what she was hearing. "Is she talking about magic?" Her reality was crumbling. How could she deny something she had not only seen but experienced? The contradictions of 20 years of study left her paralyzed. "I'll have to figure it out," she thought. "Just because I don't know how it works now doesn't mean there isn't a logical explanation."
"You possess an immense power in your hands!" Rola said, trembling.
"Remember... only for your ears..."
"Yes, yes... I must examine that scythe in detail! Are there more objects like these?"
"I couldn't say. But if you consider all the stories told as myths—men who bend knives with their minds, those who levitate, women who never age—just imagine the possibilities."

Rola recalled those tales, stories from every corner of the planar sphere. They were entertainment for children, implausible fables.
"Why did you tell me?" Rola asked, overwhelmed by the flood of information.
"To keep from having to kill you," Cisa turned her head toward Rola, "looking" at her for a few seconds. "Hahaha! Just kidding... It's our secret now, that's why I told you, so I'd have someone to talk to."
"Funny..." Rola forced a laugh. "But Valeria..."
"She doesn't need more problems, and I don't want to explain all this to her. She might think I've been hiding it for years, and we don't want that, do we?"
At this point, Rola realized that was an order. Everything Cisa had done was to avoid more drastic measures—perhaps even killing her. Rola had never seen Cisa's voluntary blindness as a hindrance, but now it added a sinister edge to the situation. Cisa abruptly turned and began speaking in a monotone voice.
"You will explain why I was playing a harp next to the control point. I..."
"You..." Rola repeated involuntarily.
"...was..."
"...was..."
"...helping you..."
"...helping you..."
"...to distract the Angel."
"...to distract the Angel."
"Good girl. Now go to the funeral."
Cisa kissed Rola on the cheek and left her alone in the room, still frozen. Rola hated that it had come to this. She felt a special affection for her, but she had to protect her from her own curiosity. "Poor Rola... but she's not ready. No one is..."

Cisa headed to the lounge of the complex. She sat on the elegant divan, a gift from the powerful families of Frontera III. She needed a break; all that "pyrotechnics" had drained her. "Vector force field? Ha! What a specific name," she mused as she reclined a little. "Damn you, Roth. How much longer will I have to wait?"

The door opened. It was Carlota, dressed in mourning black.
"My dear girl, shouldn't you be at the funeral with your cousin?"
"I... I haven't gathered the courage to go yet... These things make me so sad. I'm sorry..." Carlota sat beside Cisa. "Can I stay here for a while? I promise I'll go later."
Cisa felt great affection for Carlota. Since she was little, she had been like a symbol of hope of healthy childhood—what she could never give to Valeria. It was strange, but even though her bond with Valeria had begun much earlier, she never felt as close to her.
"Stay as long as you need."
Carlota lay down in Cisa's lap, shedding a few tears as Cisa gently stroked her hair, as she used to do when she was little. Cisa noticed worry in Carlota.
"What's troubling you, little one?"
"There's something bothering me..." Carlota sat up. "I understand why Valeria hates Roth. He killed her parents and her baby sister that day... but what does Makia have to do with it? Why, when Rola mentioned him on the radio, did Valeria detach from reality like that? The soldiers say they've never seen her like that... Is it just the death of my aunt, uncle, and cousin, or is there more?"

"Why do you want to know something so terrible?"
"I'm worried about Valeria... I've never seen her truly happy, not for more than a moment. I want to help her, get closer to her. Maybe if I understood a little more about what she's been through..."
Cisa smiled. Carlota's sincerity and pure intentions moved her. How could she refuse? So young, so honest. She was the sister Valeria had been gifted on the same day she lost her newborn sibling—a gift of Fortune. But Valeria never saw it that way. She chose to close herself off from the world, distancing herself from everyone. Her bitterness hardened her, turning her into the elderly soul trapped in a young body that she was today.
"I'll tell you, Carlota. But please, lie down again."
Carlota obeyed, resting gently on Cisa's lap. Cisa began to sing softly, an ancient lullaby.

"Sing, my child
Sing now
The wind is coming
Bringing peace
Only the good
Will rest
But you, my child
Just sing now..."

"It was 17 years ago..."