He asked in as many way as he could think of about the techniques of the Muraciers but only got mildly interesting answers at best. He managed to get a few technique names but that didn't help. He tweaked the questions in his head until he managed to get some sort of instructions but all of it was nonsensical like mostly anything the book ever answered him.

Even if he did manage to get something he could understand, he didn't believe he would go far in its practice without some sort of instructor. He still remembered what Chinui taught him in the past, it was pointless to learn it wrong and then relearn it afterwards. Emp should learn it only once and learn it right from the start.

The only interesting thing he got from all this was the knowledge that the Muraciers had a lot of secret abilities and techniques they honed through the history of the empire.

They had their own self-magic, two to be precise, a fighting style usable with all sorts of swords, another for unarmed combat, and plenty of techniques related to all kinds of situations and weapons. Really, they had collected knowledge on fighting for generations, it was the thing the family excelled at and they didn't spare any efforts in their training and quest to learn more and improve themselves.

The book of answer only teased his curiosity and he really wanted to just go ask Chinui himself about all this. He wished he had the time but instead he could only add it to the long list of things he needed to do. He hoped he would have some time to go all the way there to ask after he was done with the school.

Even without the secrets of the Muraciers, his training progressed well, he felt he had really improved by the time his wife received her clothes.

The day those clothes were received, Harriett and Celtine locked her up in the bedroom with all the stuff they bought and helped her wear the special outfit. Emp was not allowed to peek at either her or the things they had bought so he only saw the final result.

The girl that walked out of the room was almost a different person than the Calla he saw dragged inside earlier. Everything about her was different even though she was still clearly the same.

Emp smiled broadly seeing the tremendous beauty his wife was exhibiting. Seeing him staring at her, Calla stood motionless in front of the door, waiting for him to say something.

"Calla, you look great. Stunning, come here and let me take a look."

She gave him a relieved smile and walked closer to him while Emp drank in every details of her new appearance.

Calla was impressive from head to toe and she turned on herself to let Emp see her from every angles.

Her hair usually loosely braided was now falling down her back and tied with a large ribbon shaped like a b.u.t.terfly and pinned with a sculpted hand-long stake. The hair on the side of her head were drawn to the back in a way that made them go wide and low in a smooth curve on either side of her head and then braided over the main cascade of hair before getting pinned as well on the opposite side of where they started. Those two smaller pins of gold were linked with a delicate silver chain and many tiny ornaments were hung to the back of her head along the way. A few more strands here and there had been tied in tiny braids and held on to the rest with many silver hair pins. The overall shape seemed much more defined than usual and her straight hair seemed more brilliant and refined than ever.

The way she had dressed her hair at their marriage was just as pretty but the feel was worlds apart. The last was merry and youthful were as this one was elegant and delicate.

Since he started looking from the top, the next thing he saw was her face, carefully taken care of by Harriett. Emp didn't know what were the appropriate words to describe what he saw. Pampered? Maybe painted? In his own opinion, Calla was already very pretty, what they had done was only to wash out the little things and accentuate the good points. They also painted the outer corner of her eyes black to make them appear longer and sharper. He heard that sort of thing was highly popular in the high society of Steelwood and he saw it many times on his friends faces already so that wasn't surprising. Her cheek had not been tinted at all because she kept blus.h.i.+ng strongly on her own all the time. Instead, he felt like her skin had been paled a bit to make the red tinge more apparent instead and reduce the effect the sun had on her skin.

Her clothes were impressive too but Emp didn't really know how to describe them. She had four visible layers of pink and wine-red colored skirt progressively longer and darker towards the inside. All of them were longer at the back than the front and long bands of dark green cloth were tied at the top of the skirt and made waves in gentle curves around her. They emphasized her hips, showed her ankles and footwear while walking and bounced on the floor lightly at her every steps.

She wore a stiff dark green bodice over a tin pale-red and gold s.h.i.+rt with long skin tight sleeves, puffing shoulders and a wide cleavage to show off an eye catching and expensive looking pendant dangling from her delicately exposed neck. Under that s.h.i.+rt was a corset that had apparently been tied strongly by Harriett and in combination with all the rest, she seemed thinner than usual even though she had never been large to begin with. In contrast, her bust was accented by some sort of many-folded sash resting over it and pinned in place by a golden brooch at the center. The sash extended to the sides and wrapped around her upper arms to go join at her back and fall to her lower back under her hair. The sleeves went all the way to her hands and ended in a tin point wrapping around her middle fingers on each side.

The skirts were so wide and full she could rest her arms on them but she could not raise said arms high in the air at all because of the pink sash. The skirts were also long enough that she needed to grip it on at least one side so that she wouldn't trip on them while walking.

On top of the intricate motifs of the cloth there were many accessories to go with the clothes. She now wore a few thin bracelets to balance his confirmation gift on her other arm, the pendant around her neck, a few tiny chains dangling precious stones at the end of laces and straps, two pretty earrings with minuscule stones in them, a jeweled waist chain and a fine jeweled tiara stuck to her forehead.

To finish the picture, her feet were dressed with simple looking but delicate slippers with an elevated heel she struggled to balance herself on.

"It's hard to walk with this." She told him with a worried smile.

"Then hold on to my arm with one hand and hold your skirt with the other. If you lean on me, I'm sure you will have an easier time."

He offered his right arm and she gladly pressed herself against it.

"Are you sure I look okay and not silly?"

"You look like a princess, I promise. How do you feel about all of this?"

"I'm not sure... If you really think I look pretty then I won't doubt it too much but there's a lot more that makes me worry. I can't raise my arms, I can't bend down to pick up things, it's hard to walk and it's even hard to breathe, isn't it too tight here?" She asked rubbing her waist from the side.

"If you think it is, you just have to ask Harriett to make it looser and n.o.body will complain but I think it's supposed to be like that."

She made a small noise while she pondered the question and ended up keeping it like that.

He placed a kiss on the back of her hand to reinforce the atmosphere around the princess feeling and decided they should test this out by paying a visit to Blackbull. Of everyone he knew, she would be the one to tell the most clearly if this was working or not.

While Calla was blus.h.i.+ng, Emp sent Harriett to ask the old teacher if she could receive them.

After the girl was gone, Emp helped his wife sit down and listened to her talk softly about the different parts and what everyone had said to convince her that they were the most appropriate for her.

In her long explanation, what mostly stood out for Emp was the many things she had been unable to answer about his house. She had not been able to tell what were the colors or the crest of the family. The truth was that Emp had no idea either. He only knew they were usually represented by a crenelated section of steel grey wall.

She told him about how they insisted to at least include the green of the empire since she didn't know what the colors of the Muraciers were. She would have liked more pink too but they said it was enough. The pendant didn't represent anything of value even though it rested so prominently under her collarbone. They had told her she should eventually replace it by something that was about Emp's house but for now, she couldn't or his name would be exposed instantly. Likewise, she pointed out to him a few places where bands of cloth with the heraldry could be hung and tied as ornaments including the golden brooch on her chest which should be changed for the actual coat of arms of the family.

"It doesn't matter, it's normal for you to not know since I don't know either. We'll just have to ask Blackbull later, don't worry about any of this. You look great."

"Thanks. This lady Blackbull, how is she?"

"She's always harsh with me but very helpful. She wants to help but has no sense of humor or patience for silliness."

Calla fidgeted a bit on her seat.

"Are you sure it's a good idea for me to meet her? Maybe we should see Mable again first?"

"It will be fine, she knows my name and isn't malevolent, she just tells it straight when we do something wrong. She just wants to correct our behavior. You could see her as an old mother scolding kids that do something wrong, she just wants us to learn."

"I think I understand. I will listen to you again then, I trust you."

Harriett came back soon enough with a positive answer from the teacher and they made their way to Blackbull's office without crossing anyone on the way.

The reaction of the old lady towards Calla was very good. She allowed them in with a smile and Calla returned the bow she was given with one that was just as polite. She would have given a deep one by reflex but the dress forbade her to bend so much and resulted in the appropriate bow instead which pleased Blackbull.

"I am delighted to meet the new lady Muracier. If you would allow me to present myself, I am Countess Giselle Blackbull, teacher in this imperial school of Bêtéclair."

"I'm Calla Muracier, E-Emp's wife. I hope I'm not too much bellow your expectations."

She used the magic cuff to say that loudly enough and had a small stutter when she said Emp's name because she came close to calling him Emperor but aside from that, the presentation went well.

"You are above my expectations in fact. At a glance, I can tell you are someone more sensible than most. I had not dared hope before now that his first wife would be someone so much more gentle than either Mable or Brenia."

"That is a good thing?"

"Yes, at least for me. My task is already hard enough without adding another troublemaker to the mix. I feel like I can work with someone like you. You have a very decent appearance and the will to express good manners. With your new status you stand far above me yet you did not show any condescension or a sliver of superiority. Someone like you is always a boon to have close by for someone with the lineage of Emp. With just this short moment since you stepped in, I already know you'll be able to sooth tensions in any gatherings."

"You got all that just from the way she presented herself?" Asked Emp, a bit confused.

"Yes, the way she presented herself, the way she leans on you, the way she talks and stand, the way she's observing me and the way her fingers are gripping her dress. I can tell a lot just from this. In my humble opinion, aside from serious teachings to increase her general knowledge of this world, what you lack in urgency, madam Muracier, is a bit of pride."

"Pride?" Calla asked.

"Yes, pride. I might not be your teacher but letting you go just like that would be an outrage. A criminal act! Please, take a seat and let me serve you a cup of this tea."

While Calla raised a brow trying to make sense of what the teacher had just said, Emp stepped up and presented a chair for Calla to sit on like he had been taught to do. She sat on it and he pushed it back closer to the desk for her while Blackbull served tea. She made no mention of his gestures but he knew that if he had not moved the chair for Calla, he would have been scolded.

"I bought those tea leaves from the southernmost mountain of the golden strip. They are watered by both the rain from the sea and the pure water from the ice above, their taste is very peculiar and perfect for this occasion. I sincerely hope you will enjoy this tea, it is mixed with the best herbs around."

Emp had no real knowledge about tea or whatever else was put in the mix and Calla didn't either. If it didn't grow close to the village, the chances of her knowing where slim.

"What's the golden strip?" She asked.

"The long strip of land in Greenpeaks where crops can grow well and high. You might have never seen it for yourself but all those plants turn gold when they are ready to be harvested."

Calla nodded to express she understood and took a sip of the tea at the same time as Emp.

"It's good." Calla answered to the silent question of the teacher with a small nod.

Blackbull nodded approvingly and expressed her love for this particular tea.

"Not good my lady, exquisite."

Emp didn't say anything because after two years of getting scolded by Blackbull, he roughly knew when she wanted him to stay quiet. This was clearly one of those times, she wanted to talk with Calla alone.

The old lady made a thin smile and followed.

"Tell me, what is your name?"

Calla furrowed her brows in puzzlement, didn't they just introduce themselves?

"Calla Muracier?"

"Exactly!" Blackbull exclaimed loudly.

Calla almost dropped the teacup in surprise from the outburst.

"Why then are you slumped into your seat! You need a bit of pride! That's what I'm saying. Hold yourself straight, have some confidence, you need to honor your name."

"Emp's mother told me something similar." Calla admitted with her tiny voice.

"And you didn't listen?"

"I tried but it is hard."

Calla always had a hard time imposing herself, it wasn't a new name that would change it all. Blackbull sighed at the sight of Calla's lowered head.

"Having pride in a reasonable amount isn't the same as trampling over everyone else's dignity with disdain. You do not have to be condescending to be proud of who you are. I'm not asking you to be belligerent, I'm asking you to not cower and stand instead as the lady you are. What are you afraid of? Are you ashamed of something?"

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"No, not really."

"Then sit straight, stand tall! You are good looking, you are polite, you have a powerful name too, you need to show it or you will become a target."

Calla straightened her back against the chair, not because the words of Blackbull inspired her but simply because she was asked to.

She and Emp had to listen to a long speech afterwards. The teacher was trying to explain to Calla why the lack of pride she showed could cause serious trouble and also trying to teach her how to show the confidence she seemed to lack. For once, Emp wasn't the target but he didn't feel any more relaxed than usual because he had to support Calla the whole time.

She understood that nothing Blackbull was saying was against her but despite the sound arguments of the teacher, she hardly made any progress. The old lady was highly exasperated by her meek att.i.tude and did her best to help her show dignity despite this shyness.

As she explained, a n.o.ble that showed such a weak will usually instantly became a target. The reason was obvious, that large weak point was an opportunity for all sorts of n.o.bles towards all sorts of goal. It wasn't as bad for a family like the Muraciers but such a weakness could be used to belittle the whole house in a hundred of different ways. It could also be used to threaten, blackmail, control, anger and damage the reputation of a number of people close to her.

Blackbull wouldn't let Calla leave the room until she could be sure that Emp's new wife would not let everyone walk over her like a rug. Her motivations had nothing personal, she just couldn't allow the lady at the head of the second most important house of the empire to seem weak. It was for the best interest of the whole empire.

Calla did manage to learn a few tricks and promised to do her best many times over. Blackbull wasn't satisfied with just that however.

"I strongly advice you to hire a private tutor." She told the both of them. "She needs someone to provide advice and teachings on this and more."

"But we won't be here long, I'm presenting her to the cla.s.s and then we're going back home." Emp told her.

He felt that hiring someone for a few days was rather pointless.

"It changes nothing. Do you think that even if you hide her now she will never have to deal with other n.o.bles again? She'll one day soon by one of the highest feminine figures of the empire. Everyone will want to know her and she'll be swimming in events and invitations to all sorts of things in no time."

Emp had not thought that far ahead. He was too busy training to worry about that sort of future. He would eventually sit on the emperors throne and this would make Calla empress, or at least empress consort. He didn't care whether she was proficient in everything related to n.o.bility but he didn't want her to be embarra.s.sed because she had a lack of knowledge.

"Is it really possible to hire someone and have him move with us back to the village? Won't they feel dissatisfied by the living conditions and won't they also have a chance of betraying me by revealing my ident.i.ty to someone else?"

Blackbull agreed with his concerns and pointed another solution.

"How about finding your wife a friend? Find her a lady-in-waiting from one of the va.s.sal houses of the Muraciers. I do not believe those would betray their long time allies for something so simple and in such an unsightly way."

A girl from a va.s.sal house huh? He turned towards Calla to have her opinion and she answered him with a shrug and a divided frown. She understood why it needed to happen but she was tired of meeting so many new people.

Would a lady-in-waiting be a good option? Since Calla wasn't exactly against it, maybe it was worth considering.

"She'd probably be able to help Calla but how do we recruit one? How do we even select one and have her come without revealing anything?"

"I'll help you a bit, I'll make a list for you of suitable ladies of a similar age. I'll gather the rumors and everything known about them so that you may take a decision. If one of them seems to fit your requirements, you could arrange a meeting. You would send a letter to them saying that the new lady Muracier is seeking ladies-in-waiting. The letter would send them in Bêtéclair but you could catch them on the way since they will have to go through that village to reach this place anyway. You could say in the letter that a man working for you will meet them first in Dark-glint before they can meet the lady. This way they'd feel in control in front of you and your wife thinking you're only employees and you'd be able to see a face closer to their true selves than if you met them here. Either you pick them or you refuse them, you can stop them from moving all the way to Bêtéclair and reveal your secret. This isn't a perfect plan because you'll have no choice but to reveal your existence to at least the va.s.sals and someone with an observant nature might find the traffic on the old road interesting but for now, I believe this is the safest way to proceed."

"Right, I'd be able to learn more about everyone I haven't met, we'd get Calla a teacher and helper, it would give me a bit of preparation for when I leave the school and still keep the other students from knowing."

Blackbull nodded in satisfaction at his understanding.

"I feel like this is a good plan, if you agree Calla, I'd like to try it out."

Calla gave it some thinking but in the end, she chose to agree with the plan. She was very conscious that she needed some education if she didn't want to embarra.s.s Emp.

"In that case, I will start working on this today. I will find every daughters willing to move out of their parents homes to a.s.sist you. In the meantime, since you want to present her to the group, I would suggest you to bring her during one of my cla.s.ses. I will allow her presence this time to help you and with my supervision, we should be able to avoid most mistakes."

"Thank you teacher for your help."

"No need, it is my duty after all. Just be prepared, you know how some of your comrades like to act."

Heida, the princess of Greenpeaks, was especially eager to mock every little mistakes made by anyone. She really thought herself to be above everyone else in cla.s.s. Emp had no doubt that she would snicker at Calla.

*-*-*-*

Sunny days are replaced by strong winds and those soon leave their places to heavy rains only to eventually go back to calm sunlight. Nothing can stay forever the same and are often replaced in cycles turning ineluctably towards the next, so goes life. Humans are born, grow up into fine men and women and give birth to the next generation who hopefully will do the same.

One such cycle not too long ago took a turn for the strange when a mother like any other gave birth to twins sharing a single mind. A day prior, inconvenienced by her bulging flesh, she asked her husband to change the rotting fruit hung over the door. A cycle in their daily life like any other, a cycle that like all others, should not have been disturbed. The husband got distracted by something and the fruit was not changed.

Whether a spirit came in the dead of night to eat the soul of one of the yet to be born twins or tricked the family by having them birth two were only one should have been, no one knows but the results were plain to see. The baby was not one but not two either.

When one babe was crying for food, the other was sleeping and like sun and moon, never were they awake at the same time.

When one of the child went to sleep, the other would wake up and go on with the other's day as if the two were one and the same. Both remembered what the other did while they were asleep but never once did either speak to the other. For them, they were a single man.

As one man, they worked twice as much as any other, pursuing their work through the whole night, every single day. Few people truly understood that they weren't twins with a strange habit but truly a single man transferring his conscious between the two bodies he was born with.

No women wanted to wed this pair of a man, fearing the night walking half like a child looking at a murderer locked in a dungeon. The man was not upset by this and simply a.s.sumed that the rest did not enjoy to be disturbed in the night. He limited his social interactions to the day and worked harder through the night instead.

Whenever one was too tired, he would go to bed and switch to the other but his mind never slept. It was impossible for him to truly sleep. Like they could never be awake at once, they could never be asleep together.

Sadly for him, like any other cycle, the one between dream and conscious thoughts should not be disturbed.

The man thought and thought and thought. His mind would never rest and nothing he did would stop him from thinking. Especially after sundown, when no one was left to talk to and all the work was done, there was nothing to do other than sit and think.

He spent years not being bothered by it but after hearing about other's dreams for such a long time, he started wis.h.i.+ng that he had his own. The man head slowly filled itself with nonsense and without the help of sleep to sort through it all and bring him wisdom, he became increasingly strange.

He became enormously interested in cycles and more importantly, how to disrupt them. Of all the cycles he interested himself in, those of the sun and moon fascinated him the most. He examined how the moon would sometimes eclipse the sun to change the day into night, how the moon sometimes simply disappeared of its own accord and how the length of night and day changed through the year.

If even the sun and the moon were sometimes awake or asleep together, should he not be able to do the same?

Everyday he would wonder what it was like to sleep, to visit all these crazy worlds were anything could happen, how it felt to be a king for a moment or glide over the forest like a bird.

The man, after careful deliberation, decided to have a magician brew him a powerful sleeping potion.

One day, he would work all night and exhaust himself. At dawn, he would go to sleep and once the day him got up, he would drink the sleeping potion. He hoped that this way, both the day and night him would be made to sleep at once and he would at last be able to experience the dream world.

The chosen day, he proceeded as planned and drank the whole bottle of sleeping potion where the magician told him to drink a cup. He felt drowsiness take him over and his eyelids became heavy. It became hard for him to move at all as sleep was a more powerful opponent than he had first believed. However, as powerful a thing as sleep is, it was not as powerful as the cycle that defined his life.

Try as he might with even the full bottle, he did not sleep. Unable to sleep but just as unable to stay awake from the effect of the potion. He stumbled through his day like a drunk man with half closed eyes and muddled thoughts. He had the worst day of his life, the most miserable, and the last.

He lit a fire to cook himself a meal and fell over in the fireplace. His clothes caught fire and rolling back out of the fireplace, spread the fire everywhere. The curtains were set ablaze, the basket of kindling turned into a brazier, all the cloth he had been tailoring and fibers he was braiding into ropes were swallowed right away by the fire and in a short time, the overly dry floors and walls started crackling under the flames. Who would have thought that so much time to keep a house clean would make it so deadly?

The man saved himself from his burning clothes and stumbled into the bedroom to pick up the other him. By the time his half conscious self managed to drag the sleeping him away from the bed, the fire had spread everywhere and trapped him in the house. the windows were too high to reach for him in this weakened state and having to carry the limp second body further secured his demise.

From the charred remains of the house, a single burnt skeleton was found and with it, an iron stake resting between its ribs.

Everything in this world has its cycle insuring its proper functioning. Sometimes, the reasons behind its workings seems obscure but they always work for the best. Going against the cycle is like going against your own nature, everyone and everything is born like they should be and blaming them for it or trying to change them could result in pointless misery for them and you alike. Be happy with what you have because l.u.s.ting for what you don't could cost more than you expect.

--- The Cycles, Woes and heroes of our woods.

*-*-*-*

(AN) That short at the end, I had two version of it. That one where I focus more about the cycles and him trying to escape it and one where the guy was gay and started using his second body for relief out of loneliness. A girl in love with his day self sees it and decides to burn down his house during the day to get rid of the night creep and free her love from being used at night by him. The day guy rushes inside to save the other him and the ending is the same. I felt the first version was more fitting so I chose it for the final release but I can easily see how the other could be told in another place of the empire. That sort of story often changes depending on who told it and where it was told.