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year 5, quarter 3
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He couldn't put it off any longer. He knew that. For over a year, he had fretted over and over again of the fate of his King, of the Kingsglaive, of Lucis. He lamented the loss of his home and many times he became homesick. But... He also knew, deep down, that his home had been a hellhole. And he had lived a better life here than he had ever lived in Lucis.
And unlike in Lucis... There were people that needed him here. He was one of the leaders of the Dragonblades now, there were people counting on him. But as hard as he had worked, deep down, he hadn't been able to commit fully. Not when he felt like there was still a job to do back home. To oversee the reconstruction of his beloved Lucis. To protect the King, to serve the King...
For hearth and home.
But his hearth, his home... It was here. It was time .
Caius found himself wandering through his riverside homestead, meant to be preparing to head to Torensten to meet with Celes. Today, he had agreed to train with the recruits and give Celes a bit of a break. He had been insisting on it for awhile now, wanting to show his appreciation for all Celes did by covering for her for just a bit. But something was keeping him from finishing preparations and heading off. As he wandered through the house, he hugged the Kingsglaive jacket he had worn for so many years now close to him. There was an inner turmoil there for a little bit longer, but finally he stopped in his bedroom - stopping in front of the mannequin he had bought. And he had bought it for a very specific reason.
A bit hesitant at first, he began to slip the jacket off. He had done this a thousand times before, before bed, but this time... This time was different. Taking a deep breath, he resolved himself as he gently pulled the jacket off. Staring down at it one more time, he gingerly began to adorn it onto the mannequin.
"For hearth and home."
For a few moments, he just stood there. Head bowed before the jacket. He felt naked without it, but he knew that it was time to move forward. In his heart, he would always be a Kingsglaive. He would always uphold their ideals. Always protect those around him in a land where they could not be to do so. But these thoughts... He knew now that most likely, Caius would never get his answers. And it was time to accept that Lucis would get on just fine without him. His family was gone. Dead. And there was nothing left for him now. Only this jacket. One that would hang as a memento for years to come. But his time adorning it...
... Had come to an end.
Steeling himself with a deep breath once more, he reached onto the bed to pull up a new jacket. At first, it greatly resembled the old one, black and reaching to his knees. But this one was armored in spots, meant to better protect Caius. These armored spots were layered with a blue, scaly material. Blue, the same color as Vordun's scales. The scales that Vordun had shed had become the material to reinforce this new set of adornments. On the back, replacing the mark of the Kingsglaive, was the insignia of the Dragonblades.
Putting the jacket on, Caius looked himself over in the mirror a moment, feeling as though he were staring at a completely different person.
And with that, he nodded.
"For the Dragonblades."
Turning to look at the Kingsglaive jacket one last time, he knew it was time to move forward and focus on the task at hand. Mercenaries, people that were counting on him... And a gang war that threatened to undermine all they had worked for. It was time for Caius to step up and become the leader they needed. This burden, he could not allow for Celes to bear alone any longer.
With that, he took his leave. And on that morning... Caius Ignis Dragelion left his home, not as a Lucian... But as a Serentestran.
And as a Dragonblade.
Dragonblades Headquarters, Torensten
"Next!"
The latest in the line of mercenary recruits to step up to challenge the Dragonblade leader hit the ground hard as Itamen slammed into their back and sent them reeling on the ground. As the next member stepped forward hesitantly, Caius reached over to hold up a hand to help up his fallen comrade.
"You need a stiffer guard. I'm bashing through your attacks too quickly. Practice and strengthen your guard for next time and I'm sure our next duel will be better."
While Caius' words were gentle, his all-business expression betrayed just what the mercenaries had been through through for the last hour. An all-business Caius who was absolutely terrifying to fight. But Caius had roused the mercenaries with a claim that one of the best ways to get stronger was to fight strong opponents and better your game. And many of these young men and women desired strength. It was enough to keep them coming back. Even if they all ended up flat on their backs quite quickly. Caius did not hesitate, and did not show mercy until his opponent had been downed. And he showed no signs of tiring.
As the last mercenary stepped off the plate, Caius turned his attention to the scrawny young man who had stepped up next. Ensuring that the protective spells on the blades were still there so that nobody was seriously hurt in the coming sparring matches, Caius nodded his head to the recruit as he got into stance. His call to start came in a resounding war cry that reverberated through the training yard.
"BEGIN!"
The mercenary before him seemed hesitant, but after a few moments charged forward, swinging their sword in a straight vertical slice. Caius quickly parried the blow and brought Itamen low to slash the opponent's side when their guard was down. The kid went down quickly, though Caius caught him by the arm when he crumpled. Pulling him up, he patted him on the back.
"You charge too rashly, yet with no confidence. You left yourself open, but also sacrificed speed by not swinging with all you had. Think carefully before you attack, and when you do swing... Swing for the fences."
The young man shakily got up and headed to the back of the plate. Vordun (Who Caius had smuggled into the base in a horse costume) was laying curled up in the corner under the shade, and gave a snort at the battle. The Fire Drake was too used to fighting at Caius' side, and seemed a little annoyed that Caius had commanded him to stand down this time. Vordun was just visiting, and had been brought here so the recruits could get used to him. It wouldn't do for them to meet Vordun for the first time only when they got on the field, after all. It could risk jeopardizing the mission. Better to prepare them now.
The next one up did not carry a sword. Nor wore armor or a tunic. Instead, they wore a cloth robe, and the young woman came off as very... Focused, to Caius. Caius nodded his head, before calling "BEGIN!" once more.
Caius wasn't overtly surprised when a Fire spell was sent flying his way. Vordun's head perked up at the sudden spell as Caius rolled to the side, narrowly dodging it as the spell hit the stone wall. "Magic is powerful, but what use is it if you can't hit your target?" Caius asked the recruit, as she furrowed her brows before launching a Thunder spell, and then another and another, hoping to catch Caius with at least one to bring him down. Caius took off at a run, dodging the first on his physical merits. The second was dodged when Caius swapped for Isp and tossed the dagger forward, warping along with it and catching it as he neared the wall. The next was dodged when Caius would suddenly run up the wall, using the Power of Kings' abilities to propel him upward before backflipping off the wall as the spell exploded harmlessly off the stone. Caius performed another Warp Strike the moment he noticed that the mage was growing tired, sending him hurtling toward her. He stopped right in front of her, sword pointed at her throat.
"Done" Caius proclaimed, and the woman slumped down when she realized she had been beaten. Caius reached down to help her up with his left hand. "With your style... I'd learn to use a melee weapon as well. Magic is great, but you can't rely on it alone. You'll tire quickly, and it will leave you open. You would be best suited to learn to switch between styles to fit the situation. Consult Celes, she's a gifted sellsword. She will be perfect in helping you find a weapon that suits your style."
He turned then to the recruits. He kept that firm, commanding tone. Yet there was a gentle, more casual and friendly tint to it, one that set Caius apart from a more traditional drill instructor. While throughout the lesson he had been strictly business and relayed instructions similarly to his partner, the post-battle showed where the differences truly lay.
"That's enough for now. Take a break. Rest your weary bodies and prepare for battle once more in an hour. Remember that proper rest is just as important as the battle itself. A rested body will fight better, so take care of it. Don't eat and drink below your needed quota unless it is necessary to survive."
With that, Caius retired back into the building where he found himself a place to sit down. And immediately slumped into the seat. Truth be told, he was exhausted. But he had hid it best he could to seem strong for the recruits. If the recruits thought him tireless and unstoppable... They would work harder to keep up. Celes was the instructor... And he was the example. A role he now took on proudly.
“The craftsmanship on this is superb, and I can tell it has magical properties.” The weapons stall merchant ran a finger over the blue-tinted steel of the sword, and it took every ounce of Somnus’ patience to not remove the man’s hand for his impudence. He would have to clean it for smudges later now. “You’re sure you want to part with it?”
“I need the money.” Somnus stood with his hands crossed over his chest, glaring at the man every time he laid a hand on his favorite blade. If he hadn’t reluctantly granted permission for an inspection, then the peasant’s life would have been forfeit where he stood for daring to be so bold. “And it always has a way of making its way back to me.”
It was the sort of dry humor that Somnus enjoyed and Gilgamesh rolled his eyes over, but there was no one around to enjoy his joke anyway. If the merchant noticed anything, it appeared that he was far too preoccupied with getting his grubby hands all over Somnus’ things to care.
“I’ll give you 100 gil for it.”
Gil? An odd term, but that must have been the currency that they used in this world, which was what Somnus was after. Truthfully, he hadn’t the faintest idea of how much 100 gil was worth or what it could buy him, but he drew himself up to his full height anyway. “You jest, sir. I should get 500 for it easily.”
The man sputtered over the sum for a moment, which told the king that it must have been quite the small fortune. Good, it appeared that he’d started negotiations at the proper amount then. He refused to bat an eye at the man’s protestations and examined his nails in a bored manner while the merchant collected himself.
“…I can go up to 300.”
“400. Or I take my business elsewhere.” The merchant hesitated, his eyes raking over the sword in a manner that made Somnus feel decidedly unclean. Once he was out of these slums (or marketplace he supposed, but what was the difference really?), then he’d need a proper bath. After a moment, the man sighed and began counting coins out of a till, and Somnus waited expectantly as he examined the odd circular currency. He twitched slightly as the man tried to engage in small-talk with him, and he swept the money off the counter as soon as it was ready.
“If you find anymore like this one, then bring them my way. I pay a lot for rare blades.”
“Oh no.” Somnus considered his handful of gil for a moment before pocketing it. “This sword only has one twin, and it’s been lost.” Sealed behind a boulder actually, but no one could argue that hadn’t been best for Lucis.
“Oh? Pity to hear that.”
Somnus paused at the tent exit, one hand lifting the white flap as he looked out at the bustling crowd. The sunrise was nearly red as it peeked over the horizon, and it was bright enough that he had to avert his gaze. “No. Not much of a pity at all,” he murmured before he let the tent flap fall closed behind him.
***
Somnus waited until he was a few streets over before he called his sword back to his hand. Scowling slightly, he rubbed off a few of the most egregious scuff marks on his cloak before he sent it back to his glaive where it belonged. Truthfully, it did sting his pride to have to behave as a common thief would, but someone like him taking from the merchant class couldn’t really be called theft, could it? He was still a king, whether or not that fool had known it. The man should just consider his swindling as having paid his taxes up front.
The thought made Somnus chuckle under his breath, though it really wasn’t particularly funny to him, and he stopped to consider the front of a clothing shop. Loathe as he was to change out his robes for the odd leggings that men and women alike seemed to wear, he did have to admit that his clothes were growing a tad threadbare in places. He had been careful to wash them during his travels across this continent of course (by far not a job meant for a king), but it was unfortunately still time to have them replaced.
It was while Somnus was considering a few different styles that he first felt it. He thought nothing of it at first—his guards frequently called on his magic, so the feeling generally faded to the back of his subconscious—but after a moment, his back stiffened, and he lowered the black cloth ‘pants’ that he had been examining. Someone in Torensten was using his magic. He was sure of it. Frowning, Somnus looked down at the ring of the Lucii on his finger, tracing a finger around it as he wondered how someone could have possibly managed that. He hadn’t granted that power to another soul that resided in Zephon. Unless…
“Gilgamesh?” Somnus murmured, and the thought was enough to make him abandon his shopping trip and return to the streets to find the source. It took him a while of weaving through the city sidewalks—the culprit appeared to be on the opposite side of Torensten as him—but thankfully, his magic was periodically called upon again, which felt like the faintest of whispers leading him in the right direction.
Eventually, Somnus stood outside a small building with a strange insignia over the door. It clearly wasn’t a residence—it was too large and yet rundown for that—so it must have been some sort of business. “The Dragonblades?” He questioned softly as he read the sign before the sound of swords clashing behind the building attracted his attention. If people were training their fighting skills behind this shop, then surely he had found the correct spot. Someone he knew must have been close. His heartbeat picked up its pace as Somnus approached the front door, and upon finding it unlocked, he slipped inside.
The front room was fairly deserted, though it had a certain charm with a fire in the grate and various weapons and shields hung from the walls. Perhaps this was an armory of some kind? Or another weapons dealer? It didn’t have the appearance of an army base at any rate. After a moment, Somnus noticed a blonde woman seated at a desk, her head bent over some kind of writing, so he wasted no time in approaching her. He even went so far as to very reluctantly dip his head slightly—she was a woman after all, and the jewelry at her ears indicated that she wasn’t entirely low-class.
“Shopkeeper, are there any king’s guards here?” He rested his palms on the desk as he looked down at her. “Your husband, perhaps?”
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Swords rang from the training yard. Curses did too followed by startled cries, groans, and the occasional burst of fire. The afternoon hummed with birdsong and warm shafts of sunlight. And Celes was trapped indoors.
She groaned at her twelfth paper of the morning. They’d taken more work as of late. Not just Caius and herself, but the others they now apparently employed and who were currently out back bettering themselves. Spreading their name meant spreading their notoriety, and that meant more jobs. Their membership had nearly tripled since Relm had started her advertisement campaign. ’Sharp as a blade. Fierce as a dragon.’ Her logo flared so boldly that Celes swore she could almost hear it roar. Apparently the local swordsmen had heard it too.
Celes closed her eyes, sighing. They’d sponsored twenty-eight missions this month. The number had surprised even her, and she’d been the one to approve and delegate them. With each mission came reports to archive, gil to pay, and records to update. Usually it would have been Celes in that yard. She’d almost been disappointed when Caius had offered to take over training for the day so that she could catch up. Training would have been a reason to get out of this drafty office that seemed to wheeze through open windows. This was at least more efficient, she supposed.
She had only just grit her teeth and scratched a few notes with her quill when the door opened.
Her heart nearly jumped with relief (anything to distract her) before she saw him. A man in robes. For a moment, Celes could only stare at him. He looked like something out of a history book, and not a recent on either. He wore what looked like a stiff, button-down dress with a scarf tied loosely around the hip. Another scarf (or was it a cape?) draped around his shoulders, and he was equipped with a single bracer on his left arm. As he marched forward in his open sandals, Celes heart sank right back where it had come from.
This man was as foreign as she was. She'd have to make the offer.
He pressed a hand against the desk. ”Shopkeeper, are there any king’s guards here?” His eyes flitted over her. ”Your husband perhaps?”
”King’s guards?”
Wait, husband?
“I, no, I’m not-!” The words sputtered from her before she could stop them. Had he really just…?
”We’re mercenaries,” she said instead. It was pointed and more than a little tinged with offense. Her husband? Was that the only use she had? She felt her tongue sharpen, but she took a long breath to force it down. He didn’t know any better. Or that’s what she told herself anyway. If looks could be trusted, he wasn’t exactly from the future.
Celes shoved her own palms on the table, pushed her chair back, and stood. Was it a powerplay? That depended on if it worked.
”Look, you’re clearly not from around here,” she said. ”We’re the Dragonblades, and I’m its commander.” She met his eyes straight on. Foreign or not, he’d learn fast or she’d make him learn. ”If you need to guard someone then we’ll talk.” She paused. Up close, she noticed the bare threads of his clothes and the grease in his hair. A part of her rolled with dread. ’Caius would want you to say it.’ She bit back a groan.
’More paperwork, here I come.’
”We’re always looking for more swords.” She watched him carefully. ”If you needed work…” Did this count as recruiting? Caius had told her she needed to try it. Somehow, she didn’t think she was doing right.
The woman initially seemed flustered by his questions—not that Somnus could blame her when royalty had just entered her shop—but she eventually found her voice and corrected him that this was no store. “Ah, a mercenary guild.” His eyes raked over the swords on the walls, deciding that if one of his guards had been stranded here as well, it made complete sense that this was where they would run to. A small part of him still prayed to the astrals that it was Gilgamesh, but he didn’t want to dwell on the possibility too much lest he be disappointed.
The blonde woman suddenly rose to her feet, her hands pressed to the desk as well as she looked him in the eye. It almost felt like a challenge, and Somnus pressed his lips together, deciding to look past her impudence until he found the answers that he was looking for. She was oddly tall for a woman, standing only an inch or two below him, and he raised an eyebrow at her next words, so caught off guard that he let her have the high ground as he removed his hands from the desk.
“You’re the commander?” Somnus might have thought her to be joking if not for the look of steel she was giving him. His eyes trailed down towards her arms. Though she had long sleeves, it wasn’t difficult to miss the shaped muscles on her slender arms, nor the callouses on her palms and fingertips. Somnus couldn’t speak to her level of skill, but he couldn’t argue that she had all the signs of having trained hard with a sword. “Fascinating. So they allow that now,” he mused aloud, followed by a slightly drier comment. “My daughter would be thrilled to hear it.”
At only five years old, she was already a red-haired spitfire who despised every moment that she was indoors. Somnus privately preferred her younger brother, who looked like Somnus with his dark hair and features. He’d always tried to convince himself that his partiality was due to his son’s calmer temperament and not because his daughter resembled her uncle.
The blonde woman went on to offer him the possibility of a job—albeit reluctantly from her tone of voice—and Somnus blinked at her in slight confusion before waving his hand in dismissal. True, he needed the gil, but a mercenary position? The possibility made him feel heated and a little angry at her for even suggesting it. He was much more than a common soldier for hire. He refused to fall so low as to stoop to that. He would never fight under any banner but his own. He may have been a king here in name only, but he would find a way home once the astrals had finished testing him. In the meantime, surely he could do much better than this.
“You misunderstand. I did not come to beg for a job,” he corrected her as he attempted to keep the irritation out of his voice. He supposed that she had meant well, even if it had offended him to the core. “I’m looking for someone. I have reason to believe that someone here has the power of kings. I would like to see them.” One of the hired soldiers reporting to her perhaps. If one of his guards truly was here, then Somnus would have to ask what sort of commander the blonde woman with the hard eyes was. He was a little curious in spite of himself.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Celes balked. ’You’re the commander?’ It was skeptical. It was almost mocking, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, she felt her eyes harden. It was something she’d heard so many times that her anger was like a reflex. She’d always been too young, too delicate, ’too pretty to be swinging that around, sweetheart.’
His 'fascination' struck her like an arrow. The Empire had allowed it almost entirely in the technical sense. In all her time in the training yards, she’d met only three other women and one of them had been Terra.
”My life in the military would say so.” It didn’t matter if he knew better or not. Had she ever let that stop her? If he didn’t know better then she’d teach him -- at the end of a sword if she had to. ”Maybe yours should catch up.”
There was nothing she hated more than weak men.
His reaction rubbed her just as wrong. She didn’t need him to accept her offer, but just looking at him she’d have thought she’d suggested he crawl in the dirt. He had a certain air about him -- something pompous that just screamed ’better than you.’ If he thought mercenary work was so dirty then what he thought of her was obvious.
”The power of kings? You mean a kings-glaive?” Or was that what it was called? She was starting to doubt herself. ”If that’s it then you’re looking for Caius. He uses magic from a king -- or something like that. Did you fight with him?” A stupid question. This man was too stuck up his own ass to dirty his hands, and he couldn’t have been more different from Caius if he’d tried.
Caius hadn’t said a word about her gender for one.
”He’s in the back.” She gestured for him and started towards the back door, casually grabbing her sword from the wall as she did. This stranger was a problem just waiting to happen. ”Caius?” She called his name as soon as she came to the yard before she stepped aside, arms crossed and hip tilted. ”Someone’s here looking for a king’s guard.”
Considering he wasn't used to instructing and the fact he had pushed himself so hard in such a short period, one would suppose this was inevitable. Though Caius would be roused by the sound of voices. Droopily getting to his feet, he stretched out before following the source of the voices, just in time to hear a voice he didn't recognize exclaim about someone being the commander. He turned the corner soon after, and stopped when he realized that the person was saying that he was speaking to, was Celes. And Celes he had just acted as though he were surprised people allowed her to be a commander now.
Now, Caius wasn't used to matters of sexism, but their prior conversations had told him that it existed. And most of all, he knew very well that Celes was very... Prickly, about the idea of being seen as anything but what and who she was. Caius debated the idea of bailing the poor sod out, but the last place he wanted to be... Was in her way.
Luckily for the man, Celes let him off easily with some harsh remarks before going to look for him. She didn't have to look far, as Caius had just stepped out. He hadn't caught much of the last part as he was too busy wondering if he was going to have to scrape the poor bastard off the wall. Caius regarded her with a curious expression though when she brought up king's guards or something like that.
"We have kings here?" He asked, wondering why Celes would ask him about it. Though something in Caius was stirring. He just wasn't sure what. Either way, he got the impression she wanted him to tag in. Which was fine with him. He wouldn't want to take over unless she wanted him to, or unless it was necessary. She was his partner in the Dragonblades, not his subordinate.
He shrugged his shoulders and started to walk past her when he noticed that the desk nearby had been recently used, evidenced by the fresh pen marks and new mess of papers. He looked back to Celes.
"Getting you to take a breather isn't going to be easy, is it Cel?" He asked lightheartedly, a hint of minor amusement in his eyes. He was a little annoyed, a little of the "God damnit Celes" mind. He had done all this in hopes she'd be able to take a breather, but he'd underestimated the workaholic tendencies of the general and that was his fault. He lowered his voice slightly to keep their matter private. "We really do appreciate the work you do here. But please don't push yourself too hard too often. Nobody will blame you for resting here and there" He spoke softly.
It wasn't a command, but a request. Caius wanted to say that he partly feared she might collapse if she overdid it. But he was... Not good at expressing personal feelings. Nor did he know how to bring it about. Not to mention it might only provoke a prideful rebuking. So there was that too.
Even if the pot was calling the kettle black here. While he didn't tell her this, it really only took looking over records of job gil being funnelled into the coffers to figure out that Caius wasn't much better on the overworking front.
Either way, there was still work to be done on his end. Caius moved into the room and regarded the man with a curious expression. Something about his face was... Familiar.
Noctis?
No. This wasn't Noctis. But he looked very similar, that was for sure.
It appeared that Somnus had offended the girl. Her eyes narrowed as she brushed some of her blonde hair back over one shoulder before making a disparaging comment on his army.
“Maybe yours should catch up.”
Somnus let out a humorless laugh, sensing that her comment had been meant to offend in kind. He hardly felt threatened by a small mercenary guild that didn’t have the faintest idea of how dangerous he was to anger, but he still couldn’t resist answering in kind. Gilgamesh had often chided him when they were growing up about his need to have the last word, but really, what was the benefit of being king if not for that power?
“Interest is rather low to my knowledge,” Somnus said with a slight wave of his hand. “But by all means, feel free to change that if you ever find yourself in Lucis.”
The blonde woman seemed in a hurry to be rid of him now, and the feeling was rather mutual. This was going nowhere, so he did appreciate when they got down to business, though her first question made his brow furrow in confusion. Kingsglaive? He hadn’t heard the term used before while referring to a person. His glaive was simply where he stored his weapons and nothing more.
“Caius?” He echoed the name in slight disappointment. It failed to ring any bells for him, though he did have to admit that it sounded like a Lucian name. “I don’t believe we’ve met, no.” A pity, for Somnus could have sworn that this was the location where he’d felt his magic being borrowed. Was he simply growing rusty after so long without any of his guards around? Had he imagined the whole thing?
Somnus was teetering towards asking her to retrieve the man anyway just to verify, but in the end, she made the decision for him as she gestured towards the back and went to fetch him. She not so subtly retrieved a sword from the wall as she went, and Somnus let out a quiet “Hmph,” before he supported his back against the wall and crossed his arms. Let her try, if she wanted to.
Somnus heard muffled voices in the back of the building and he took a moment to idly twist the ring of the Lucii where it rested on his finger. The two voices spoke for a moment longer, and just as Somnus was contemplating leaving, a giant of a man strolled in from the back. He had to be at least half a foot taller than Somnus, and his blond hair was somehow almost as long as Gilgamesh’s had been. Somnus unconsciously straightened his back a bit, deciding that the man was clearly at least a soldier, if not who had he hoped him to be.
“Can I help you?”
There was unfortunately nothing familiar in those brown eyes. This man was certainly not one of his guards.
“No, perhaps not. You aren’t who I thought I’d find,” he said a bit dismissively, though his eyes did reluctantly trail back towards Caius. The blonde woman had at least said that his magic came from a king, hadn’t she? He may as well verify while he was here.
“Caius, I presume,” he said without wasting anymore time. “I’m looking for someone who wields the magic of kings. I was told you may fit that description...”
Caius was already rather prickly at the man for his treatment of Celes, but he knew that Celes could handle herself. Either way, Caius stepped past Celes to greet the man. His resemblance to his former King was uncanny, and he noted it in the back of his mind as the man would explain that Caius was not who he thought he was. Caius was almost ready to pretend that was a shame and bid him farewell after his treatment of Celes, but then he brought up something interesting.
The Power of Kings.
Caius managed to keep from laughing, but it was hard. How funny was this? No sooner had he decided to move on from that life, did it decide to come crashing back in, in the form of this rude, haughty and pompous fellow. But Caius decided to keep his judgments to himself for now, keeping a stoic and professional demeanor as he nodded his head in response to his question.
Lowering his head slightly and closing his eyes, Caius let out an exhale. Holding out his hand, his gunblade materialized in his hand in a burst of blue light. Opening his eyes, he brought his hand and his blade to his chest, the sign of a Kingsglaive. For hearth and home.
"Is that what you were looking for?" He inquired, searching the man's eyes for answers. "I served King Noctis Lucis Caelum as one of his Kingsglaive before being sent here."
If Caius was not who he was looking for, did that mean there were other Kingsglaive around? Was he perhaps talking about that crazed woman? What if he was a Glaive hunter, like she was? While his stoic exterior and stone face didn't express it, he was on guard. He would not allow him to pass this room if he attacked. He would not be allowed to even have a chance to harm the recruits that would undoubtedly intervene, if Kingsglaive were his target. But he kept an open mind to possibilities. It was entirely possible this wasn't what he sought at all.
Caius kept a professional demeaner despite Somnus’ immediate dismissal, which earned a small part of the king’s respect. If the man was a member of this mercenary guild, then he was on duty after all, and it was only right for a soldier to remain stoic at all times. His attitude more than anything else spelled him out to be well-trained. He must have been a credit to whatever kingdom he had once served, though Somnus wasn’t inclined to share that observation. He didn’t like to dole out unearned praise.
Caius nodded his head in acknowledgement that he could use the power of kings, and Somnus eyed him sharply in return. A prickle of annoyance ran through him as the blond man closed his eyes instead of expounding on that, and he was about to demand further information when a strange sword suddenly materialized in the man’s hand.
Somnus recoiled backward in shock as the familiar blue sparks faded from view, and he brought one clenched fist to his chest as the tiny whisper of magic through his veins confirmed what his eyes were seeing. What he’d felt in town had nothing to do with Gilgamesh or any of his other guards. It had all come from the man in front of him.
“Who are you, really?” Somnus demanded as he raised his chin slightly in an attempt to be closer to Caius’ level. “I’ve never laid eyes on you before. By what right do you wield my magic?”
The sword that Caius clutched to his chest was odd—there was a foreign mechanism near the hilt that Somnus could only wonder as to the purpose of—and it certainly didn’t look Lucian-forged to him. But at the man’s simple answer on who he served, Somnus’ lips parted in surprise, and he found that he had a hard time looking away from the sword as the words echoed in his mind.
King Noctis Lucis Caelum King Noctis Lucis Caelum King Noctis Lucis Caelum
Somnus saw red. Throwing his hand to the side, he summoned his own blue-tinted sword to his hand as he brought the blade up to point at the self-proclaimed ‘kingsglaive’ in warning.
“And where is this man who would call himself king?” He demanded with narrowed eyes. “There is no Noctis of the Lucis Caelums, but I would love to greet the man who thinks he can steal my family’s name with no consequences.”
His magic? This pompous... You know what, was seemingly growing more and more pompous and entitled as this went on. Caius didn't know what this prude meant by his magic, for Caius was fully aware of just who and where he had gotten that magic, and he had done more than enough to earn the right to wield it. Not to mention... With Noctis not being in this world and yet he had still managed to retain his magic, he had gotten the impression that he had trained it well enough that the magic had possibly become of his own. Not that he could prove it, seeing as when King Regis had fallen, none of the Kingsglaive experienced enough to have this possibility become reality were alive to tell of it.
But none of that mattered in that moment as when he spoke the name of his King, Prudyloops used the Power of Kings to summon his blade, something that Caius sensed the use of before he even pointed his sword at him. Instincts kicked in as Caius met him halfway. With his sword pointed at Somnus' head, the "King" was staring down the inside of a firearm inches from his face as Caius' fingers moved to the trigger without hesitation. He didn't pull, not yet. Caius remained calm though, aware that he was now in control of the situation regardless of whether the priss knew it or not.
"Drop it" Caius commanded in a firm voice, staring into Somnus' eyes in a way that indicated he wasn't bluffing on what he was about to say next. "I can blow your head off a lot faster than you can stab me. Drop your weapon before I prove that statement. Then we'll talk about your supposed family name."
His gaze fiercened. "Lower. Your. Weapon. Now."
Caius cocked the trigger a tiny bit more, as if to emphasize his point. Whether Caius would actually do it or not was still up to debate. But it certainly wouldn't go well for the lout if he decided to attack.
