Felicie's Subterfuge

The Role of a Paladin

The Role of a Paladin

Emilien said nothing as he looked over the unnamed town with a critical eye. From the deck of his ship, he had a nearly unparalleled view. The town was rather flat, with few buildings over two stories, and he was able to get a good view of things without going very high.

Despite the fact that it was late, the time this lawless place usually thrived, there were few, if any people scurrying about in the decrepit streets. Their large vessel had scared them into hiding or outright fleeing the area - those that dared make a break for their boats anyway. Just by virtue of no one wanting to step forward in protest, they now ruled this town. It was possibly the easiest conquest Emilien could claim in his illustrious military career.

It also left him with a slightly sickening feeling in his gut.

Felicie was out there in the town somewhere. He wasn't entirely sure where - Aloys had taken over the search and Emilien wasn't in any hurry to lend him aid. However, he knew that she had sought refuge here. There wasn't anywhere else she could go.

It had already been over a day since they had taken up residence here. Not simply hiding either, but laying claim over this territory entirely. And it wasn't just Felicie's presence, the hatred in her eyes still burned into his mind, that made him sick.

This was invasion. Pure and simple. Conquering a foreign city against the will of its leader was the very definition of an invasion. Queen Eleonore had made no secret of her desire to stay neutral. Aloys argued that it was a ghost town and so it wasn't truly an invasion. Somehow, Emilien doubted highly that the pragmatic and insistent queen would see it that way.

Have you ever considered that you're the one who's wrong?

Well, he couldn't quite speak to the innocence of the unnaturals, but he knew for certain that this, what he was doing now, was wrong.

However, he no longer had command of this mission.

"What are you doing, Emile?"

Turning, Emilien looked back at his commanding officer, the commander of all Gascony's forces, General Firmin Didier.

Staring at the general was unnervingly like staring into the eyes of a flat painting. There was little behind his dark and straightforward gaze. Usually a polite and calm man, there was still something about the way he held himself, straight backed and square shouldered, that seemed entirely too uncompromising considering he was doing nothing at the moment.

"Firmin." Emilien nodded his head to him, stepping to the side so that his commanding officer could join him at the railing. "Nothing. I was just looking."

"Aloys isn't on board? I was looking for him."

"No. He's out searching at the moment."

Firmin hummed gently as though he weren't surprised. "You should be out lending him a hand."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"This isn't like you, Emile. Normally, you show such initiative."

Although Firmin was speaking to him, looking at him, his flat eyes didn't really focus on him. Emilien always had the sensation, when speaking to Firmin, that his commander wasn't even really paying attention to him. His flat voice rarely held any sort of emotion or inflection. Emilien couldn't deny his skill as a general and a warrior and his loyalty to their country, and Queen Sabine specifically, was second to none.

However, there was just something unnatural about him.

A chill went down his spine at the thought and Emilien shook his head to banish it. "I suppose that I must be tired. Aloys has been little help to me since we went to Duhghlas."