Cactus Dunes

Miss Heidi, it's good to meet you.

Ah—er—uh, th—um, I'm Heidi—

I know it already. An adorable name.

—So you're—Cleric Kal'tsit, is that right? I often hear my uncle mention you.

The pleasure is mine.

——

Cleric Kal'tsit, I imagine you know of Mr. Thomson too? Quite, this is Heidi Thomson before you, that strange fellow's daughter.

I see. Your father is a person worthy of respect.

Right, then, do come in, Cleric.

Thank you again for your generosity, Sir Vincent.

Oh, did you know the Count went to Londinium? Have you ever been in that city before?

Don't remind me! I once had everything packed up ready, and then! A Catastrophe Messenger came trotting along to say: the road ahead's blocked, you all go back.

I was beside myself returning home. Immediately had a great bout of illness.

Oh, my, how dearly wretched.

Is that auspicious poet coming today? I've a few works I wrote in private, and I'd hoped he could do the honor of appraising them.

Perish the thought! Have you forgotten just how many manuscripts from 'thinkers' Thomson's torn up in front of the Count?

Oh, I remember. Thomson's ruthless. He even said himself, 'The clash of ideas ought to be a ruthless thing.' Truly frightening, he is.

It's not a be-all nor end-all to show off.

My, my, but the charm's all in young men like that, isn't it? Mettle to test, romantic and free.

Of course I admit, I once admired Thomson for those qualities. But in front of the Count, Thomson still can't shake off his own deliberate arrogance.

Deliberate? Thomson?

Isn't it obvious? He regards our esteemed Count, after all. Forget just nobility and status; in these last years, the Count's governed his land with perfect order. It's plain for all of us to see.

Hoh! Toron's not his land in name, mind, it's for all of us to manage, but I'll admit the Count deserves his reputation for leading! I do have to respect the man!

And lest we forget, he's had multiple invitations to the gatherings at Londinium. Don't you think our little place—allow me to admit our border situation—deserves some sense of pride?

Hah, nobles.

My, let's not make the topic so stiff. We're all people of Victoria, aren't we?

Ha! People! Ever since that outrageous hanging, we can barely claim to know whose people we are!

Simmer down. We all regret Our Majesty's departure, but we can still drink a few toasts here today, you see?

In other words, today's a happy day. Don't bring up anything so frightful—look, here comes the Count.

I overheard your conversation. Very intriguing, Richard. I'd much like to take a look at your writings.

Oh, poppycock. Good Count, in comparison to you, my little effort pales like a man under a skyscraper.

That's right, Vincent, hurry and tell us of your trip to Londinium, let us all hear it. Who did you meet? Any Grand Dukes of living legend?

In due time, everyone, in due time. The night has just begun. Don't forget, today is a day of festival celebration.

Allow me to introduce to you all two special guests of ours.

Cleric Kal'tsit, do come.

Good evening, honorable guests. Allow me to give my most sincere respects to you all.

What, now! By your appearance... my, you're a lady? Oh, what a mighty shame...

I think it's not much of a shame at all. Cleric Kal'tsit, good evening.

Oh—oh—Cleric Kal'tsit, I believe I remember the Count speaking of you. I hear you treated his wife, and so garnered his good favor?

With regards to the Count's wife, that was no light affair.

Do tell us about where you're from. Laterano clerics who aren't Sankta are so rare. My, let alone ones so... charming as you.

Beautiful miss, where do you come from? And where will you go?

Aren't I the one asking? Don't you interrupt.

The Count gives word that you're a pillar of talent. Do you have any inclination for philosophy or the arts? Any unique insights, perhaps?

You flatter me. It was only chance I aided the Count's wife. I have the distinction of his recognition, that's all.

Oh—if you're familiar with the Count, surely you know Sir Thomson too, then?

Of course. Sir Thomson is a rarity of a scholar in Toron. I often hear the Count talk of him.

Then things couldn't align better. Servant! Please fetch the wine I brought. I wish to have a proper causerie with the Count and the Cleric!

Don't you dominate our soirée, you egomaniac. Can't we all just chat about something fun? For example, that fashion walk at Londinium...

Fine by me. Everyone, just let me rest my legs for a while here. I'll be soaking in the knowledge.

Now, aren't you a lazy one. Your estate would be doubled by now if not for that!

Three wineries still isn't enough?

Oh, right, you mentioned you had another guest. I don't know if—

Good evening, Misters and Misses.

Heidi! What are you doing here!

Little Heidi, you're very prettily dressed today... that bastard Thomson. I fear for all my life, it's children alone where I'll never compare to him.

Now, now. Heidi isn't even of drinking age. None of you hand her a wine glass. Servants, if you could pour her a cream soda.

Don't always treat me like a child, Uncle Vincent.

But drinking laws are drinking laws. Your father specifically warned me. After all, you're at that age...

(Pout...)

Alright, alright. Strike the cream soda and replace it with ginger ale.

I don't need you to coddle me like this!

Ha ha, little Heidi's eager to grow up.

It's sad. No father wants to see his daughter grow up this quickly. I was like that at her age too. Only wanted to buy some jewelry, and my father gave me a tongue-lashing for it.

Even if you won't let me drink, at least, can I join the dinner party? Let's see... I'll sit right here!

It would be my honor, Miss Heidi. Allow me to hold your hat for you.

Ah... no—no need, I'll be fine with it on...

Good, then. Heidi, don't forget that you came here tonight in secret. In a while, you be good and sleep for the night upstairs.

Mnngh...

You dress very much like your mother, girl.

But right now—

Mnnngh...!!

Cleric Kal'tsit, do you think I'm still a child too?

To you, I see no reason why it should matter.

Let me pour your glass for you. Here's your ginger ale.

————

Th... thank you...

Is it to your liking?

It's actually quite a nice drink.

Oh, my, there is no alcohol in ginger ale, is there? What's gotten your face red?

The girl's wary of strangers. It's nothing new.

Come, friends! Seeing as we're all present, let us officially begin!

......

You're most correct! The height of Leithanien's arts capture all hearts alike, but those Leithanians are far too pompous about themselves! What affords them to look down on us!

Leithanien, oh, Leithanien. They've had too much misfortune... I haven't stopped hearing Witch King stories since I was a baby. Who knows if the Twin Empresses will have managed to sort out that king by the time I visit the place!

Who would visit knowing the terror of the Witch King...

Unlike the monarchs who ascended young, the Witch King became emperor at nearly fifty years of age, and then governed Leithanien for many more.

Undoubtedly, the Witch King is the greatest Caster in all our lands. He turned himself into a freak of nature!

He's just like those horrible stories depicted him. His horns all bent into strange shapes, emitting this strange energy...

Oh! I've never seen the Witch King shown in a newspaper before—*belch*—Sorry there, this wine's just too fine. But I have seen photos of the Twin Empresses, come to think of it. One gleaming gold, one dark as night.

............

Leithanien is in flux. Presumably, the Witch King rarely leaves his tower. From start to finish, he's gazed dispassionately at Leithanien, and even when he grants an audience, it's as he casts a grand shadow from atop his tower.

Yet the last time he touched the ground, he was morphed beyond recognition. His wretchedness, his two horns cut off by the Twin Empresses apiece, drew true sighs of lament.

The full picture of that coup d'etat is still unclear to us, but to my knowledge, even our most heroically adored Wanderer would never match the Witch King's true strength.

This being why when the Empresses' Voice arrived at Victoria escorted by the knights, the Grand Dukes were all still willing to suspend their quarrels, and treat each other with respect.

Pardon? It sounds as though—you've been to Londinium before?

I arrived from there. It was a local Sankta's enlightening me that led me on this path.

Ha-ha, Kal'tsit, didn't I say? These are all wonderful friends of mine. See just how popular you are.

Truth is, I have a girl about the same age as you. She only knows how to splash my hard-earned money away all the damned day... How nice it'd be if she could learn from you.

Getting to know you tonight has been a truly wonderful time. Can I ask if you're still single, dear Kal'tsit?

Cleric Kal'tsit!

Oh, Heidi, don't cut in so randomly. You should be heading upstairs to turn in about now.

Allow her to speak, Count. In this day and age, children are always much more mature than we imagine.

Hm.

Cleric Kal'tsit... have—can I ask if you've been to Ursus before?

Oh, that nation rife with rebellion and violence.

When I was studying abroad, I spent some time at Deity Grypherburg. Are you interested in Ursus?

Yes!

Papa once gave me a few books to read, by an Ursus author...

Ursus only ever produces two kinds of arts: raucous sensationalism, or true eternal greats.

If Thomson liked it, chances are it was the latter, wasn't it?

Hmph. You lot really do trust him.

Papa really put him in high esteem. He even wanted to go to Deity Grypherburg himself to visit him, but business always meant he had to put it off, and this year with his old injuries flaring up again, he wasn't able to go.

Your father was injured?

That's right. He broke his knee, and then put off surgery for too long, so it's not fully treated.

I warned him. Ah, no idea what happened last year. He came scrabbling back with wounds all over, and all he'd say was he ran into a robber and dropped off a cliff. Wasn't interested in saying much else.

Do you want to go to Ursus? Miss Heidi?

Now that won't do! The death of the last Emperor and the rebellions had a profound effect on the country. Should you want to study there, you'd do well to wait a few years first.

I'm just talking about it... What impression do you have of the country?

I'll tell you a story.

It's the story of how Ursus's Sixth Army were annihilated, without a trace, by a bottle of vodka.

Well, this rumor doesn't sound plausible at all.

When any event is boiled down to its cause, its conclusion tends to sound unexpected. We're all used to the process, aren't we?

That does make sense.

It began with a ruffian from the Army 'collecting rent' in one of their garrison regions, and without realizing, he menaced a noble.

That act fermented the whole way through. The Sixth Army then were always considered utterly corrupt, the old nobles' power rooted too deep, while the Fifth Army were unconditionally obedient to the young Emperor and the brand new State Council.

We have no way to know for sure who fired the first shot, but as for the outcome, the Fifth Army ultimately seized the chance to revolt, and in between two cities' paths, started a direct firefight with the Sixth Army.

The prologue to 'The Great Rebellion' comes in many editions. I've definitely heard a few things of the Sixth Army's varied deeds.

They fought just like that?

If it were that simple, then it wouldn't have been dubbed 'The Great Rebellion.'

Being a border guard outfit, the Fourth Army, with a domain of authority and influence decidedly not in the hinterlands, suddenly switched sides to support the State Council, and proactively declared no relationship to the 'traitors' in the Sixth Army.

After the execution of a few prepared scapegoats, the old nobility had only the Sixth and Eighth Armies left in hand.

Come winter the following year, the nobility backing the Eighth Army pulled that same trick, capitulating alike to the Emperor.

And so, the bitter fate of the Sixth Army who had staked it all on one throw, we can well imagine.

And the cause of all of this—very simple, one we all know. Simply a drunk ruffian, taking the vodka bottle he had in hand to attack a young noble.

A marvelous story, Cleric Kal'tsit, and might I even confirm, this tale is little removed from the reality at all.

Heidi, I would not tell you that 'this is how Ursus is.' Every civilization in this world deserves you seeing it for yourself. They should be appreciated, and have to be reflected upon.

......

In that Ursus you admire, what have you seen?

Perhaps the farms and public houses, perhaps the grand heroes, perhaps the highs and lows of life in Deity Grypherburg's opera house. But what I've seen is the Great Rebellion's aftermath, an age on the verge of collapse.

Might Victoria have such an age of its own someday?

I will not guarantee it either way, Miss Heidi.

How could it! Here, you little child. Are you afraid now, because of Cleric Kal'tsit's smidgen story of Ursus?

I've no intent to insult the Ursus people, but the Empire of Ursus is unarguably a savage, unreasonable nation.

But right now, isn't Londinium just as—

—Don't even say it. Though it pains us all that it happened, did Victoria waver for even a moment?

Alright, alright, Count, seeing as the topic's come around, I think it's high time you told us about that trip to Londinium, yes? That's what we're most interested in.

What high nobility did you meet?

I'd be honored to tell. Truth is, on the way, the Duke of Normandy personally invited me to a shindig, together at his flagship...

What! And you managed to keep from telling us all the way to today...!

My, it was the Duke of Normandy himself... He always did detest Leithanians. Did he and the envoys of the Empresses' Voice have a scuffle?

No, but by his retainer's words, the good Duke never once made eye contact with those gorgeous envoys that evening.

Ah-ha, now that's the proper manner of a 'Duke.'

Ursus's theatrical Grand Dukes might number more in hundreds than tens—alright, maybe not that many, but they are quite unchecked, and if I might add, somewhat incompetent too.

That's a form of arrogance, but I must say, everyone who's experienced the Londinium manner for themselves would echo the sentiment.

I trust the Duke of Normandy need only rely on his own power to make those Leithanian greed-blinded extremists know their place for a few dozen years. Let alone the fact we've certainly more than a single Duke...

......

Tuckered out, Heidi?

Hm? No... I'm still thinking about what Cleric Kal'tsit said. Could I talk with her alone for a bit?

Oh, if we're to talk Londinium without Kal'tsit, it would certainly be much duller.

You flatter me.

Now, no rush. I see the Baron of Rye is calling at me, so I'll need to chit-chat with him now. I assure you, I'll be back shortly to tell the full tale.

Does this all bore you? Miss Heidi?

Huh? Ah... no, it doesn't, I'm alright.

......

Fine... erm, it's just, I thought we'd talk more about poetry, or the wheat harvest, but it turns out not...

Sick of foreign politics?

Um, ha ha...

It's what tonight's dinner party was meant for.

I can see, you also consider it somewhat boring, don't you?

You understand more than anyone, and you can't stand all those people in a giggling gaggle around Uncle Vincent, correct?

You seem to have some misunderstanding about me...

Ha ha, we only met tonight, didn't we? You're right, Cleric Kal'tsit.

You can call me just Kal'tsit.

Then, Kal'tsit... could you walk with me?

In a while longer, Uncle Vincent will have me sent off into the loft. I certainly don't want to go to bed this early.

The snow seems to have gotten heavier. Would you mind that...?

—I wouldn't. Allow me to accompany you.

What a snowstorm!

The biggest one in recent years.

I like the snow, Kal'tsit, and I like my home too.

I know.

Phew... how cold.

Everyone's all huddling inside by the fireplace.

Mm.

......

It's just us two now, Kal'tsit... hee-hee, Kal'tsit.

—It's so difficult to be alone with you.

You're yet young... Heidi.

Your father shouldn't have let you get involved so easily.

But that's what I wanted, Kal'tsit. I wished to do something or other, instead of hiding in the warm house, gazing out, just as a child would.

When winter truly comes, would a single oak of Victoria's be spared from the blizzard? Then that being the case, we should prepare early.

You resemble your father greatly.

—Is that a compliment?

Let's say it is.

Hee-hee... ah, nobody should find us here, so...

Now I can hand these letters to you.

...

Your father's intelligence operatives are never late. They're the best Messengers, workers, and aspirants in all of Victoria—except this time.

Has something happened?

—There are two letters, Dame Kal'tsit.

One from all of Victoria, and another from 'Kazdel.'