My mind was a discordant cacophony, like listening to an entire orchestra tumble down the tallest tower. It made me miss the times when I was merely angry at everything. Rage was a simpler tune, no less overwhelming, but at least it was far easier to follow. Right now, I didn’t know what I wanted, nor how I should feel.

  I felt betrayed. Worse, I could see that Sephy knew it, and what made it all so confusing was that I could tell she wanted no part of it. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said the elders hadn’t permitted her to speak on this. I was angry at her, then frustrated at myself because it wasn’t her fault. My mood was further sabotaged as my mind pointed out that, betrayal or not, I didn’t want to be dragged along on this quest.

  My cultivation was the antithesis of stealth. What was I meant to do? Play music very quietly? Even with an alternative, did I want to follow these ancient words around like the Lady's lapdog?

  I’d liked the idea of riding out, helping people affected by all this chaos. I didn’t expect to be on the front lines, but quick wit and clear reasoning would aid the knights more than another blade. It was a noble calling. It’s not like I hated this prophecy, even with the Lady involved, I just abhorred the idea of abandoning people.

  I felt questions I’d long buried starting to claw their way up out the shallow graves I’d tried to convince myself would hold them. Annoying questions like ‘what did I actually want to do’, and yelling ‘be a bard’ only produced fresh questions. Like exactly how being a bard would deal with the mountains worth of resentment that was still lingering in my soul.

  I hated thinking like that, and for a while it worked. It was getting better, the mountain crumbling pebble by pebble. I was feeling more whole, I had friends, I was singing, there was support from Pel, and of course there was Sephy.

  Then in one short meeting that was all thrown into chaos. Ruined by that golden-haired prick.

  I looked over to Lance, his opposite and not just in prickishness. The squire knew to leave, to regroup and think, and not try to drag others with her. I’d still followed her out to the training yard, using her as my own excuse to leave the meeting. I, like her, felt I would’ve done something I’d regret if I’d stayed any longer. She was a friend in need, and I sensed I could help her.

  More importantly I’d be doing something, and with purpose I could add a layer of earth and bury those questions before they broke free.

  “Who does he think he is, prancing about as if he owns the place!” she growled aloud as she flowed through sword forms. Her normally fluid movements were jerky and imprecise.

  “I’m with you. I think it’s nonsense,” I nodded, leaning against a wall and strumming on my lute to calm my nerves. I spread my smoke around to check we weren’t being listened in on and quickly set up the privacy runes. I’d got much quicker at placing them over the last couple of weeks. Plenty of practice, thanks to my interest in astronomy.

  “I get that secrecy is paramount, and going through those towns and villages and hiding is the best bet. But I don’t believe I could live with that. I know the life of a provincial guard too well. They’re not prepared for this! You remember Gloria-Commander Smith? She came to us after her whole town was destroyed. An entire town wrecked by a monster. She looks after her niece and nephew, and she’s basically their only family left because of that disaster.”

  I nodded. The main issue with this ‘Teutonique Order’ wasn’t the betrayal but the fact that the order had previously been responsible for protecting the passess and roads. While other Orders, Houses and Covens claimed the big towns, there were plenty of smaller towns that sat outside their protection. With the Order in turmoil, the monster population could rapidly grow, or rank up. For villages and even smaller towns, a single iron ranked monster could wipe them out.

  “I actually disagree on the secrecy point. Let’s imagine we see people in distress. Ignoring our objections, do we really believe that Arthur, of all people, isn’t going to go help them?” I shared my biggest issue with the whole idea. I might not like the Prince, but I didn’t doubt he cared for others.

  “You’re right! He says he’s going to push on, but could he really? Having him head it up is insane. If only…” I felt her flare her cultivation, pushing on the glamour. It was the spiritual equivalent of balling your hands into white-knuckled fists. It was a habit I’d seen more often over the last week, and it had become much worse ever since Gaz reached Iron.

  “Don’t blame your cultivation. Stop and really think. The Lady wanted you here. Of that, I’m relatively sure. If Arthur wasn’t here, what would you do?” I asked. She paused her motions.

  For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something, and I felt another small ripple of power before she stamped her foot, and the sensation was gone. Her sword forms started again.

  “I don’t know! Helping people is important. The quest is important. The laws of chivalry state that others shouldn’t interfere with questing knights, but we all know how that’ll go. We should have the freedom to move around, considering the clout of everyone involved, but all the politics means they can just ignore that and cause us problems if they want to. I fucking hate politics.” Lance swore, flicking her sword to her side and standing tall.

  “I’m not sure I even want to be part of this, and I certainly won't be going if you don’t.” I gave voice to the thought that had my mind in a vice. The questions were thrashing, trying to break out and infect my mind with worry. As much as I wanted to ignore them, my cursed truth telling meant I couldn’t even hide from myself.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t see how anyone could describe me as Arthur’s ‘truest ally’. Beyond that, do you think I want to spend the rest of my life being shuttled about at the behest of the Lady of the Lake? Glued to Arthur’s retinue? Stuck waiting till he thinks it best if I cool off by staying at a bridge like he did to Bors?”

  “How would that work with Percy?”

  “I’m not sure. I need to talk with her. I’m angry at all of this. At her. At myself. We have secrets from each other, but this is more than that. Secrets that she can’t entrust me with, a duty she cannot abandon, and a plan that I’m loathe to take up, even for her.”

  “You should go back. This is important, and you don’t need to be out here to listen to me whine. I have to simmer down. Mum says I need to learn to be less direct, and if I’d stayed, I’d have said things people didn’t want to hear.” Lance pulled a face. “More things. You should be in there. Work things out with Percy. That’s the best place for you right now.”

  If I did that the questions would definitely break free. Instead I focused on the true reason that I’d followed Lance out here. This was something time sensitive that needed handling now.

  “On that, we’ll have to disagree.” I took a deep breath and moved back a few paces so I was out of grabbing range. “I followed you out here because I think you’re close to your intent.”

  “I’m what?” Lance looked at me with savage eyes, moving closer as if I was some wild buck she was hunting. It was like she was considering cracking my head open to get to the secrets inside.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  I took a deep breath. “Don’t tell anyone about this, and you can’t ask me how I know.”

  Lance laughed, her intense gaze dissolving. “You know you’ve said that more than anyone I’ve ever met. Just assume, if it comes to cultivation, I’ll always talk to you first before sharing the magic of bards.”

  “Well—thank you. Look, I think you were close to your intent just now. I could sense something.”

  “When was it?” I gave her a look, and she relented. “Fine, I’ll have a think.”

  Her face wrinkled as she kneaded her temples with her hands. After a minute passed, I tried to help by offering advice. “When you spoke, what were you most passionate about? What felt right?”

  “Trick question. I always feel like I’m right.” Lance gave me a weak smile but then snapped her fingers. “I felt something, just now when I was wishing we could just cut through it all.”

  “Go on,” I nodded.

  “But that’s not right. I always feel most right when I’m insisting something is simple, even when it’s not. And then Mum or Gaz, or you, will tell me it’s way more complicated.”

  “Ignore what everyone else is saying. Tell me more about that.”

  “It’s not helpful. It’s the kind of stuff that gets me in trouble!” Lance stalked about. “Look, I’m not as politically savvy as Gaz. I’m not as cunning as you. Hell, I’m not even as good with a blade as Arthur. What I am good at is cutting to the heart of all of it. You all see all these reflections, these different points of view that you weigh up, work out what everyone is thinking, and figure out how to move forward. I don’t care! I just see a problem to be fixed. That’s half of why I can barely use dream glamour.”

  “I thought you used it to research your opponents. From what I understand, being able to focus on just one person is an achievement at your stage,” I asked.

  “That is practically all I can do! I see what I want to see, and yet I can’t spot anything else. I can’t listen to the weave like my mother and catch insights from those whispers. All my attention just centres on my foe.”

  “We’re onto something.”

  “What? That I’m really bad at being an adult?” Lance snapped.

  “Lance, you’re a good person. I do think that perhaps you’ve been given a bit too much advice though. I’ll say that the times I felt your intent flare were when you were doing just that—seeing the truth of the matter.” Intents were deeply personal, and I didn’t want to mess up Lance’s, but I felt safe enough sharing some observations.

  “The truth doesn’t matter as much as what people think. You of all people should know that!”

  “But it might matter to you! You know you’re the best at detecting which of my fake strikes are real.”

  “So, what? My intent is not getting tricked and bull-charging through all my problems?”

  “I can’t tell you your intent.” I stepped back, and Lance followed me.

  “Why not?” She sagged. “I haven’t even decided if I’m joining this stupid quest, but I know I don’t want to get left behind again. I need my intent.”

  “You asked me what I’d do. If I was in charge of this, what would you do?”

  “I thought we were talking about my intent?”

  “Humour me.”

  “I’m not sure. If we did the quest, I’d prefer to cut Arthur out and take you, but then we’d never have the political clout needed, or the power. Even if I became a knight tomorrow, it’s a dangerous route. And if we’re helping people, we need all of us to deal with whatever the prophecy is or the challenges along the way.” Lance began to do her sword forms again. Her blade was moving steadier now, closing in on its proper graceful dance.

  “To be honest, I’d be happy staying well away from this Grail and just helping the people on our way. Just get Arthur and his minions where they need to be and keep hunting,” she spoke without interrupting the dance.

  “That’d be a noble cause that none could argue with.”

  “This must be a right kicker for you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Your girlfriend is basically stuck babysitting a man with a very punchable face, getting dragged around by a prophecy you have every right to fear. Having met the Lady, I get it. She’s too huge, too powerful. I don’t see her worrying if this kills half of us. There’s all this talk about purity and power. No one seems to say how smug she is.” Her blade was moving effortlessly now. I could feel the intent at the edge of my senses.

  “You have a real knack for honing in on the crux of an issue. There was a certain confidence to her,” I answered, trying to not let the bitterness in me spill out.

  “You know, she said something similar to me.” I raised an eyebrow, indicating she should continue. “It was more poetic, but she said, ‘You plunge your hand into the flames, not afraid to grasp the heart of the fire while others work their way in carefully from the outside.’” Lance smiled.

  I felt it form as she talked, waving across the edge of my senses. The hint of an aura. A sensation like I was lost in a world of mirrors and illusions, all of them distorted and shifting, and despite the maelstrom of deception, I knew with absolute certainty that something was watching me with unerring precision.

  “She also said she wasn’t sure if she should call it bravery or stupidity.” Lance’s words, and the frown of worry that came with it, sundered the emerging intent. I looked up at the squire, who seemed completely unaware of what she’d just done.

  “Lance, I ask again, if you had to deal with this challenge, this prophecy, and all the mortals in danger, what would you do?”

  “Well, it’s not like we all want the same thing, but it’d be good to travel together. Pick up where the Order left off. I mean, there’s nothing stopping us all going together to deal with it, even if half of us break off. The main issue is Arthur, but if he wasn’t in charge, it wouldn’t be half the problem it is. Right now, the rule of chivalry means he’s in charge, whether he wants it or not.”

  “Who do you think should be in charge?”

  “None of us really. We get along all right, but it’s not like we’re a united front. Which is a shame, as if we were together, no one would fuck with us, given all the families involved. But…” She’d been speaking with such confidence, her intent churning, then that hesitant voice cut in. I wasn’t about to let it go this time, not the intent nor the idea.

  “That’s it. That’s the plan!” I crowed, running up and, despite my dislike for them, giving Lance a hug. I shocked her intent back into form, as well as Lance, who was staring at me like I’d grown another head.

  “What plan?”

  “We just stroll right through, picking up where the Order left off!”

  “That’s not a plan!”

  “Why not? We form an Order! We pledge ourselves to go through, cleaning up the problems left by the collapse of the Winding Path. We help people like we actually want to, making it the perfect cover as we get close to our target and do some good.” I danced back, trying to work out what came next.

  “But, but.” Lance stammered.

  “You said you trust me, right?” She paused her argument and nodded. “I tell you this will work. You found a solution by cutting to the core of things, something neither I nor Sephy spotted. Now you should go and think on your intent.”

  “And think what?” Lance asked, looking lost.

  “By the sidhe, you can lead a pegasus to water, but you can’t make it drink! Think like you usually think, this incredibly blunt, direct way of doing things.” I pressed my hand to my brow. “I know you’re no fool and are far smarter than you let on. Time to go apply it.”

  “Feh, it gets me in trouble half the time!”

  “And yet it still gets you what you want! Since I met you, you’ve always cut straight to the point. You found out the truth of your glamour. You showed it off at dinner—all but forcing me to explain it. You knew the Lady wanted to speak, even when most would’ve recoiled. You called me out for my anger when we travelled, and you saw to the heart of Kay, ready to draw a blade in her defence and convinced us to hear her out.”

  “How does that help? All of those moments could’ve gone so wrong! I got such an earful about how I’m not powerful enough to handle the consequences!” Lance tried and failed to get back into her sword forms. Her blade hung in the air, unsure what to do next.

  “But what if you were? What is seizing your intent about, if not gaining power? The power to make it so you can just cut to the core of things? Now, you should meditate or groom Gring, or whatever it is that helps you think, while I go and work out what I have to do to set up an Order!” Lance stepped forward, preparing a rebuke, but froze in place. Her eyebrows knotted as she really started to think.

  “Oh, and don’t tell anyone. I want this to be a surprise!”

  I left Lance behind me, feeling the swirling strings of her intent dancing at the edge of my perception. I had some research to do, and a prince to usurp.

  Check the spoiler below for a library of cultivation terms and their Arthurian translations.