level_main_11-02_beg

Four Years Ago...

3:25 P.M. \ Overcast

Saint-Marsol's College, Auchterigg District of Londinium

Hey! Look, all the soldiers in Parliament Square, all the crossbows and cannons! You've got nowhere to run!

*whimper*...

Stop crying, you're not supposed to cry! Chin up! You're playing the King!

Um... I-I'll have you all killed! I-I've got my Kn... Knights of the Foyer!

It's the Knights of the Tower.

Most of them surrendered. And all the ones who won't give in will be like you soon. They'll be tried by us, and... the fiery rage of Londinium we represent.

W-Who can try a king?

Used to be nobody could, maybe nobody else in the future either.

You're a dead-end, Your Majesty. You blocked Victoria's forward stride.

Every machine in the city stopped on your command, plus you wanted to take the daily bread away from all the suffering people, stealing every last penny out of their purses.

Our hands toil for nothing but tomorrow's sun. It's you and your greedy attendants that forced us... to stain ourselves in your blood!

Forward, soldiers! For Victoria!

Victoria...! I... <i>I</i> am Victoria... you insolents! Victoria won't pardon you for this, even if I become a s... s...

A specter! Speeec-teeer! First you run over to those steps, and then fall down, and <i>then</i> you say that!

Who's that running around the doorway here?

Ralph, Anna, you little pair of mischief-makers—

It's Miss Molly...

We were just getting to the most fun part! Anna, quick, get on the steps, we're going to do the hanging!

Hanging... hanging?!

Who taught you children such a cruel game?

It's how the grown-ups in Slantwards Alley play.

Slantwards Alley... there's all manners there. Did you watch some kind of silly show? Who took you to see?

Tom the cobbler.

He was drinking a lot of yellow stuff, and it was all dripping off his face. And then he ran up on stage while they were up there, and he was yelling and screaming 'I won't let you disgrace His Majesty the King, he was a great among greats.'

That bloody Tom! No, that's no language to use in front of children... Oh, what's he thinking, taking children to a pub?!

Let's keep going, Anna. I want to play one more time before supper.

Then it's your turn to be the one that dies! Ralph, you promised! You can't fib!

Oh, Your Majesty... pardon these children for disrespecting you.

They've never seen you, nor heard your voice before. All they know are rumors of you from all the city's gossip peddlers.

Miss Molly, you've never seen the King before either! You don't get to be all hoity-toity with us!

Come on, run, Anna, I'm chasing you—

Out of the way, t... traitor! Sooner or later, you'll all be torn apart by the beasts within!

Children, this is hardly proper of you.

If you don't want punishment, you'd best cut that out. <i>Never</i> let any of the clergy or teachers see...

See what?

Oh, good, Lady Golding!

Ralph, why are you so flushed?

Um, 'cuz... 'cuz...

We're playing a game, ma'am. It's really fun.

A game?

Very well, I understand. Return to your bedrooms soon, and don't forget to do today's homework.

Yes, ma'am.

Additionally, Ralph, Molly may only be older than the two of you by a few years, but she is still your teacher.

Yes, ma'am. Sorry, Miss Molly—

Alright, alright, listen to the ma'am now. Off you go.

I can't believe you didn't scold the two of them.

Ralph and Anna? I don't blame them.

The children just don't understand what cruelty is yet.

They have an innate desire to learn. If they can't learn anything proper from books or ourselves, it's only natural they'll turn to other places.

They... so many say that hanging transformed Victoria. Lady Golding, do you agree?

Ask the same question to different people, and you'll only get different answers.

The machines of Highbury's munitions factories certainly never ceased to whir, but the grand houses of Auchterigg have had many a change in ownership.

While all I know is that these poor children still come in droves to our school each year, bless their hearts. They're in need of help, much as I was twenty years ago.

I thank the school. If it hadn't lodged me, I would have long died of some illness or other.

Molly, what happened just earlier gave me an idea.

An idea... You're mean, the sets of plays you're holding?

Indeed.

So they're meant for the children. But they've only just learned to read. Won't it be a little too soon?

Better this than all the showy, slipshod stuff in Slantwards Alley.

For young children, acting others' roles is tantamount to a game. The complex implications might escape them for now, but at least they can get a little taste of the emotion and power within the words for themselves.

I do hope you're right.

It comes with another upside too, no? The children won't be nodding off in my literature classes anymore.

Haha, I suppose so. What matters to me is that we can use up just a little of their energy—it'll be a great relief for me!

Excuse me, madams, bookshop's closing in advance.

Mr. Adams? You're quite early to shut today.

Haven't you heard yet, ma'am? There was a disturbance at the Duke's office in Camden this morning.

Disturbance? What kind of disturbance is it to affect Auchterigg? It's quite a ways away.

One of the office admins got beat to death. Duke of Stafford's nephew, apparently. Only just rocked up in Londinium a week ago.

...Oh, rest his soul. Have the police caught the murderer yet?

That's the problem.

Witnesses say the suspect scarpered into a Defense Force barracks.

Seal the street! Move! Don't let him get away!

All eyes out—

And now he's fled into Auchterigg? Really?

Hard to say, ma'am. Probably not that simple.

How strange. <i>Are</i> these the Defense Force's men? My eyes might just be playing tricks, but their uniform seems a little different to what I remember...

I've got a friend who lives in Camden, ma'am. He says there's soldiers just flooding the street nearby, all of them wearing that uniform.

There's even word that... well...

A duke secretly slipped into Londinium just yesterday!

How, though? Wasn't that prohibited by law?

Thank you, Mr. Adams. These books are too heavy; I'll pick them up next time.

Molly. Back to the school, as quick as we can.

No one? Didn't they say they saw someone hiding in the alley?

We can't let word of the Duke spread in the city! If we do, our entire operation today's... ugh, damn and blast!

Didn't even see if it was a man or a woman. What the hell are these intelligence agents doing in their bloody Londinium offices?

Good-for-nothings! Got the Duchy's people running circles around them!

Lucky I just landed a bolt—

Keep up the chase! They can't have gotten far!

Wait—

Lady Golding? Did you see something?

Nothing urgent.

Molly, you go back to the school for now. Gather all the children, and make sure they don't stray out into the streets.

What about you?

I'm going to see a friend. Prepare some hot water and a clean towel in the office for me; I'll be back as soon as I can.

Rrmph... *pant*...

Sorry, bear with me. School things are fairly rudimentary—more often we have children falling over while making a racket. Not so much being shot by soldiers' crossbows.

Who knew... you could sew up wounds.

With the scant yearly donations to the school, we can't afford to hire that many staff. I have to moonlight as the school nurse a lot of the time.

Urrrgh... ow...

After seeing you move so silently on the street, I wasn't imagining you would feel the pain.

Oh, don't jest with me... you're the only one in all of Londinium who I can truly catch my breath with.

I can suture your wound, Heidi, but I can't disinfect it. You'd best be off to a hospital straight away.

I don't think so.

Can you tell me why?

I thought we were friends.

Golding, I shouldn't have come here with you in the first place. I haven't wanted to pull you or the children into all the mess.

So the soldiers <i>are</i> after you. Are they really the Duke of Stafford's men?

Did Adams tell you that...? I thought he would keep mum.

He's your friend, and mine as well. He was the one holding the book club we met each other at, and don't you forget that.

Ha, ha. Could I ever?

You were a <i>ruthless</i> one then.

'A fast-food work of pop-culture subservience.'—'Its only use is fueling chatter between ladies of the house and girls at teatime.' Your words for my newest work.

But I did say that the author's talent lay far beyond.

And I hadn't conceived that the most tasteful of all Londinium's critics was such a simple, unassuming teacher.

I could read into every line you'd written, and for each one, the hundred lines you hadn't besides—those were <i>your</i> words, Heidi, uttered by you.

Never would I doubt the unspoken understanding between us.

Then let me help you.

We can be more frank with each other, Heidi... just as we always have.

Golding... did I ever tell you that, years and years ago, I had the fortune of meeting a Laterano cleric who wasn't a Sankta?

She once lived in Londinium too. She may well have some ties to this school's origin.

Who is she?

She's...

Lady Golding, goodness!

Oh, hold on, you have a guest? Wh—Who might this be...?

A literary circle friend.

Is something the matter, Molly?

Outside, ma'am... I thought you would've heard...

From far away come strange noises.

The sort that Londiniers are quite inured to.

They confuse them all too easily, at first, with the sound of an exploding steam boiler carelessly lit, or the sound of the mechanical fowlbeasts the children so love slicing through the air.

But as the ground and building tremors become steadily apparent, an instinctual panic strikes everyone.

By protection of the kings, Londinium has never once met Catastrophe before. What they face now is without a doubt a different sort of menace—and in those of long age, something stirs. The nightmare of twenty years ago has come again.

The sign of war.

In the midst of the room's silence, the rumble grows thicker.

It doesn't make sense.

They were only catching a few criminals. Why'd they bring out such a display of force?

If we could make sense of every thought in the minds of our fellow man, many a tragedy would never come to pass.

Molly, if you could check whether the soldiers in the street are still there.

Yes, ma'am.

I have to leave now.

I know. I'd love to urge you to stay, but I know full well that not even heavy artillery could stop you.

I know you've noticed too, Golding. Another scene change is being wrought upon Londinium tonight.

The Duke of Stafford's troops are on the offensive at Parliament Square as we speak. The Duke of Cavendish's men arrived at the outer wall a long time earlier.

The coup d'état over twenty years ago, and the turmoil it brought, were at least the briefest thing for the citizens here. But this time... I couldn't say.

This will likely develop into an inter-ducal war, and its epicenter will have been Londinium.

I've... come into some intel. It has the potential to save tens of thousands of lives. The sort of thing I need to deliver out of the city before tomorrow's daybreak.

...War, you say.

I'm afraid so.

The fire of war could spread to other cities at a moment's notice. Every Victorian needs to make preparations.

Victoria's peace has endured for over two decades since His Majesty's passing. Many call it a miracle, but I long ceased to believe it a miracle of any sort.

No one would abandon their own interest, especially when its vastness is that of Victoria's... It instead gave those with the stuff to plunder it all the more to consider.

We pitiful that live in this crack of history could only simply shut our eyes and proclaim it so. 'Peace.'

Heh... who would've thought deathly illness would drive Stafford to such measures? And who could've predicted how the other dukes would respond?

Without the efforts of people such as yourself, this war would've broken out twenty-two years ago, instead of being delayed to today.

Are you trying to soothe me, Golding?

I'm only stating the reality, nothing more.

You needn't reveal your goals to me, Heidi, let alone explain what your people have been planning all these years.

You need only answer me one thing—will peace come again?

...It will.

That's what we've been striving for all along.

We will protect our homeland. That is the truth, throughout the ages, that we Victorians have believed in.

Even if countless will die in the streets outside? Even if, with each end in sight upon the road of yours, the next preordained war comes to greet you?

Indeed.

Because war <i>will</i> ultimately end. It may end at the hands of us, or our posterity. When the smoke clears from the skies shrouding Victoria, no more will the children's smiles be crossed with haze.

Very well.

I'm willing to believe in you, Heidi, to try and believe.

Should I ever be able to return to Londinium, Golding... then I'll tell you everything, when we meet again.

Remember that. Remember your promise.

...Come back alive.