level_act37side_09_beg

<p=1>Defense Forces Temporary Detention Room</><p=2>December 25th, 1098, 8:32 P.M.</>

Phew—Zone 2 is finally all cleaned up, now it's just Zone 4 left. How are you doing? Tough work, eh? Want to take a break?

I'm cleaning just as fast as you are, as you can plainly see.

You don't need to try and accommodate me just because I'm an Infected.

That's not it at all. I just thought you must be tired, with everything you've been through and all.

Oh, I thought... never mind. As for that incident with the crown, I'm fully clear on that now.

It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing! Besides, you're not the only one who wanted to do that.

Actually, it seems like all of a sudden, people aren't as afraid of the Infected anymore.

That's because we're in Londinium. The policies instituted by the Speaker and Parliament have, at the very least, stopped many people from openly showing fear and resentment towards the Infected.

But according to a Columbian friend of mine, outside of Londinium, things haven't changed.

Anyway, thanks for helping with the cleanup; we would've had the captain on us again without you.

I should be the one thanking you for not shackling me. Having something to do helps put my mind at ease.

If you ask me, you need not worry about Parliament's decision. Think about it. Of all the places in Londinium where they could have detained you, why did they choose the Defense Forces' lockup?

It's because we're all either old war buddies or familiar faces who can look out for you. Don't worry. Once things cool down, we'll find a reason for you to go home.

The protestors outside the Speaker's office, they're the ones who are missing the picture. We all know what kind of person Vina is.

Hmm? Are you feeling alright? Do you need something to drink?

You're saying... the Speaker is going to release me?

I'm saying just rest here for now, where it's safe, until things die down out there.

The captain didn't allow you to have a radio or read the newspaper, right? It's because he was worried that you might get to thinking too much.

If you're still feeling jittery, my good buddy—he gets thrown in the drunk tank every few days—he's stashed some premium hooch around here somewhere.

I'll go grab a few bottles for you.

Diane gives a faint, wry smile as she strains to catch the sounds coming from outside.

But aside from the faint sound of water running through pipes, she hears nothing but the distant drills of the Defense Forces.

Ever since she was brought in here, she has been more or less cut off from the outside world.

I wonder if Eliseo is doing alright?

I really should have let him know beforehand. He must be so worried about me now…

Indeed. He went to nearly everyone he knows to plead on your behalf.

Madam Speaker!

Good. They aren't treating you like some common criminal.

And you made sure of that?

No. They did it on their own—they believe you don't deserve this sentence.

Many came to me on your behalf. Your friends, my friends… our comrades-in-arms, and even some civilians who don't know you at all.

—Diane, I snatched some of my buddy's liquor for you.

He takes a big swig of whiskey.

Urk!

Before the soldier even reaches Diane and Vina, he snaps to attention, the whiskey caught awkwardly in his mouth—too afraid to swallow or spit it out.

He quickly hides the bottle behind him and salutes Vina.

Gulp!

No need to hide it, Patel.

As I recall, Horn did mention that drinking is prohibited in the barracks.

(Swallows) Uhh... ahem…

Yes, Vina! But… this is… uh…

I won't tell Horn, but in return, you'll keep my visiting Diane a secret.

And set the bottle down, will you? Weren't you bringing it to Diane, anyway?

Uh… alright. Vina, you came here to discuss the plans with Diane, right?

Yes.

See, Diane? I told you not to worry, didn't I?

I'll go finish cleaning Zone 4. I've been on duty all day, and I didn't see anyone here.

Would you like a taste of the whiskey Patel left? It doesn't smell all that bad.

Diane shakes her head slightly, a bit downcast.

Mind if I have a sip, then? Meeting with those dukes has left me parched.

Madam Speaker, did you put me here because you really wanted to…?

We thought you'd feel better among old friends. You would rather I threw you in solitary?

No, of course not.

Honestly, I'm not as resolute as you think. My past isn't much different from yours, or from that of most Londiniers.

Diane, I did hesitate over my decision.

So, does your visit mean Parliament has come to a verdict?

(Sigh) I feel it best that I inform you of Parliament's decision in person.

I bid you adieu, Lieutenant Diane Weber of the former 6th Column, 10th Infantry Regiment. You are unquestionably a war hero.

Thank you for your great service to our homeland.

Parliament...? I see. Madam Speaker, when will it happen?

Tomorrow.

Alright.

Have you any regrets?

Have you?

Perhaps my biggest regret is that, after the war, I didn't immediately strip off this outfit and hide myself away back in Norport.

Ha, you would never have done that. I know you. The Siege will never abandon our homeland, and the Speaker of Londinium will never abandon Victoria.

...Hah.

I have no regrets either, Vina—may I call you that?

You may.

We've met many times and fought side by side just as often. But today, I think, is the first day we can truly call ourselves friends.

Vina, before I go, would you share a drink with me?

When you walked alone into the Palace of Westhaleg, everyone believed that the woman who emerged would be wearing the crown.

'A hero must one day be crowned king.'

Every collection of fairytales in that old bookstore on Baker Street had a story like that. It was my favorite place to go before I enlisted.

I really did want to witness history, Vina.

But I let you down. I let a lot of people down.

Yes... You could have been a great ruler.

Just because I wanted to make Londinium a better place? Didn't the old king, the one who was hanged public, also want to make Londinium, to make all of Victoria, a better place?

Things rarely go as planned.

Sometimes, what you believe is right may look wrong to others. I've only recently begun to understand that.

Then what is there to do?

I'm still searching for that answer, Diane.

Someone I trust told me to try to accept those who hate me and to stand firm in my own sense of justice…

I'm still learning… but I never imagined this path would be so lonely.

You're drunk… Vina.

Vina shakes her head. She draws her sword and hands it to Diane.

Do you remember Kyngasycath, the Sighs of Kings?

Yes. I took it from your own hands, after all.

After the battle, I discovered that it had completely dulled. The smiths worked tirelessly, day and night, to reforge it for me.

This new sword is heavier. It carries the weight of even greater expectations than before.

Diane, this sword reminds me every day of the right path—

The future of Victoria doesn't rest with me or Parliament. It rests on all of you—those who reclaimed our home with their own strength.

Vina, I have one last question.

What really happened in the Palace of Westhaleg that day?

What kind of story would you like to hear?

A heroic fairytale that'll make it into the books of that old bookstore, or the truth, so plain that it's almost boring?

Haha.

Diane takes a long swig of her drink, her hand brushing over the cold steel of the sword.

To be honest, I prefer the old sword… When I used it to strike down our enemies, those were the moments I felt closest to Victoria.

Back when I was living a simple, uneventful life, I never imagined I'd have thoughts like these…

And besides, there's hardly any time left to savor those quiet, pre-war days, is there?

Vina, forgive me, but I can't save the last bit of this whiskey for you. I really need it—

(Choking up) Why now, of all times, am I suddenly afraid to die?

(Choking back tears) Vina, before I'm completely drunk, would you tell me one last fairytale?

Her tears fall on the sword, sliding down its blade. 'Drip', 'drip'...

Diane… you already know the stories of the past, and you were there for the best parts of this fairytale.

But you may not know how it ends.

That day, I entered the Palace of Westhaleg, tore down the Sarkaz banner, and was about to leave—when suddenly, I heard someone call my name from the throne room.

'Alexandrina Vina Victoria.'

Then I pushed open the door that had been sealed for so long.

I saw—

my father. Alistair II, speaking to me.

My Alexandrina! You're finally home.

Come sit by my side, daughter of Victoria.

Vina couldn't make out the King's face.

The golden mask blended with his golden hair, radiating authority and an air of mystery.

He was Victoria personified.

My daughter, are you afraid of me? Are you afraid of Victoria?

Vina, never reveal even the slightest hint of fear to your subjects. Your teacher should have taught you that.

You died long ago.

Twenty-six years ago, they hanged you from the gallows.

Laughable! Who could kill Victoria?!

Those greedy condorwings thought they could tear the flesh from my body to feed themselves.

They were so blinded by fear that they conspired in regicide, all so they could feast upon the lands of the Aslans for their own gain.

But no one can kill us—not the dukes, not the Red Dragon. We are the beating heart of Victoria!

So that's why… your statue in the Mausoleum of Kings was never completed…

The dukes never truly laid you to rest; you've been here all along.

What little courage they possessed drove them to confine me in this throne room, but never to claim my throne. Cowardly usurpers!

They fear my people; they fear my Steam Knights; they fear us, Vina.

My daughter, tell me, do my people still remember me? Do my knights still guard our palace?

The people of Victoria have long since adapted to life without a monarch. As for your knights, they're all gone.

They were murdered by the very people they were sworn to protect.

And what of you, Vina?

I… I can barely remember what you look like.

Then come closer. Take off my mask and look closely… you'll see only yourself, Alexandrina. The blood of the royal line flows in us both.

I'm sorry, my child, that I failed to keep my promise.

I intended to hand you a peaceful and powerful Victoria, yet betrayal has left me sitting here, rotting on my throne, for over twenty years.

But at last, you've returned. Take my scepter, wear my crown…

Proclaim to our people that their sovereign has returned.

Purge our land of all dissent and punish every coward who betrayed the crown. Let glory endure—this is Victoria's rightful way!

The king's scepter struck heavily against the throne platform, its dull echo reverberating.

…Blood was never the source of our strength.

How familiar those words are—just like my defiant boasts to my own father.

(Chuckles) You still have much to learn, my daughter. Let me teach you a long-overdue lesson: the meaning of 'royal power'!

Still, I grant you the right to oppose me.

Alexandrina, return to my side, and listen.

No. You're already dead, Your Majesty. All that remains here is your echo, lost in the glories of a bygone empire.

I do not need you to grant me anything, nor do I need you to validate the strength of my convictions.

...I just want you to rest in peace, Father.

Vina tightened her grip on her hammer, stepped onto the platform, and walked toward the Empire's last glimmer of twilight.