Глава 11

What of Theresa?

I just received Her Highness's signal, general.

It's ready.

Good.

The Regent looks up at the overcast sky and the walls in the distance.

The true battlefield of the Sarkaz lies beyond the walls.

It's time to begin.

Are you ready?

There's nothing to make ready.

Right, we're finally here.

Vina, I must—

We must bear witness to all this.

An elaborate black structure lies at the end of the tunnel.

Generation after generation, the greatest minds in Victoria came together to build it.

All this, just to hold a sword.

If few are the heroes who can use it to conquer Catastrophe, then let humanity use its wisdom to raise a shield against the storm.

These structures, the entire building, was made for this.

The voices rise up again.

The calls are no longer urgent, no longer sharp, no longer attempting to persuade or incite.

She feels a tired sense of peace.

She has been here before. She has been guided to this place, long before her memories took shape.

Just like then, she knows where she must go, what she must take.

It is right there, in the middle of the room, unguarded, so unremarkable it might as well have been a tiny decoration in this grand building.

Kyngasycath, the Sighs of Kings.

It lay there and continues to do so, over the centuries, through countless reforgings.

Siege extends a hand towards it.

Broken shadows fill the space, rising and ebbing, resonating.

Alexandrina. Alexandrina Vina Victoria. They whisper her name.

She touches the sword.

Shards of days gone by pass through her body. She hears a boom in her mind.

Suddenly, she understands.

She is the source of all those visions and sounds.

They are her doubts, confusion, regrets, recollections.

Things she has forgotten, and things she intentionally forgot.

A great hand raises her. Londinium stands up from beneath her, taking her across the land of Victoria.

The land that she and her friends walked.

Countless voices superimpose upon one another.

Victoria, Victoria.

This is Victoria.

Her Victoria.

'Vina, Vina.'

The voices call out.

Siege opens her eyes. There are no illusions now, no tides. She holds in her hand the Sighs of Kings, symbol of the Victorian monarchy.

There is little to show that it is a sword of legend. It is unremarkable in size and design.

It looks like an ordinary sword.

You have the Sighs of Kings, Vina.

It's... lighter than I expected.

Let's go. Time to go home.

We—

Siege wants to turn around and feel the sword's warmth with her friends.

Don't.

But she feels a colder blade in her back.

...Allerdale.

Please! Don't. Don't turn around.

Give me the sword.

Your Highness Alexandrina... I'm sorry.

I have to...

I have to do this.

Allerdale's voice is calm, but filled with a terrible, resolute sorrow.

Siege recalls the 'memoirs' that Morgan wrote in jest.

A handful of pages, clumsily written, with less-than-elegant vocabulary.

The story starts with a fictional fight. Everyone returns to base after the fight. Allerdale makes a cream stew for them in the story.

She laughs in her heart. Allerdale made a stew, yes, but what the memoirs omitted is that...

It did not exactly taste great.

Siege!

Oh—!

Don't move.

You... you too...

I don't want to hurt you.

But I have a debt to pay.

Our mission is to help Allerdale remove the sword from the Mausoleum of Kings.

Finish this job, and I can retire.

It was an offer I couldn't refuse.

We just mourned the heroes who fell victim to betrayal together.

I thought you would understand.

But in the end, you're no different from them.

I'm ashamed I thought about trusting you, even for a moment.

Like I said, living is hard.

I'm sorry. I want all of us to keep on living. I'll try to make sure we do just that.

We've both been pushed out of death's way by our friends.

Unfortunately, our paths happen to diverge this time.

Allerdale...

Your Highness.

Please hand over the Sighs of Kings, for your own safety.

Is this the only way?

I betrayed your trust. There's nothing I can say about that.

You can admonish me, reproach me, try to defeat me. You have the right to do so.

But I will leave with the sword.

This is my... destiny... in Londinium.

You said the Sighs of Kings would protect Londinium from the storm.

I don't want to drag Londinium into the abyss either. I won't let her fall into Sarkaz hands.

Into the hands of the dukes, then.

Whoever is behind you wants to use the Sighs of Kings to intimidate the other dukes and subjugate them.

They don't care about protecting Victoria.

We may be meek, but we're in the middle of all this.

With the people who have been hurt and abused.

I know.

I know what she's after, but it doesn't concern me.

I'm only doing... I only care about what I can actually influence.

What about the Self-Salvation Corps?