Phosphorus Angel

"Alright, boss," Wriggler said with a noncommittal half-shrug. "Just hoping to see some action soon. I've grown tired of pestering the maids."

Troan blinked, realizing something. Then he shot him a curious glance.

"...Did you find out anything? Something I should know about?"

Wriggler smirked. "I like how you know me so well, boss."

Then his expression grew serious, uncertainty shaping his demeanor.

"I ain't certain, boss. But from the rumors I gathered talking to the servants, I think there's something fishy going on—"

Wassh—

Suddenly, the doors came open, followed by the sound of water gushing, and they both looked back.

A dashing black-haired young man entered the throne room with a cloaked lady in tow.

The lady respectfully stood back by the door after the young man made a hand gesture for her to do so while he went ahead.

"Seems like you've got company, boss."

Troan turned away, his attention returning to the throne.

"So it seems."

Wriggler's gaze shifted from the approaching young man to the cloaked Xagerian guard behind, and he smirked.

"Hey, boss. We'll continue this chat later. I'll be at the door if you need me."

Troan nodded with a light grunt and Wriggler walked away.

Clack, clack!

The young man's steps echoed as he casually approached Troan with a regal posture. He wore a black fitted shirt and trousers, both made of high-quality material. The shirt had two thin metallic strips of pure gold stretching from the hem up and over the shoulders to the back. Providing heft, stiffness, and an eye-catching display of wealth.

Whuu—

The young man had his hands behind his back but they weren't empty. A unique bo staff made slow circles behind him as he walked, creating a soft whoosh as it arched through the air.

Three-fifths of the staff was a slick black in the middle, while the remaining two-fifths featured golden edges, each measuring one-fifth the length of the staff.

There was a certain ease to how he wielded it. No doubt displaying years of experience with the weapon type.

"Hey there!" Wriggler waved at him with a smile as he walked past him.

Kaydin offered a friendly smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

When he got within ten steps of Troan, his smile bloomed as a happy light sparkled in his eyes.

"Brother!" He exclaimed with a measured cheer. "It is good to see you up and about! How are you feeling?"

He soon came to stand by his side. However, they weren't standing within arms reach.

Troan turned slightly to have a look at Kaydin.

'Kaydin has grown into such a fine young man. He seems fit and in good health as well, I am pleased."

His eyes then scanned Kaydin's choice of clothing before shifting to the woman back at the door.

'...So he partnered with Mechanis Argen—reasonable. The faction offers better trade opportunities, compared to their Imperial Household, House Xageri. House Seasult will only profit from a partnership with them." He mused.

The Xagerios empire was previously an absolute monarchy ruled by the Xageri family. It was a land where those able to sense and wield mana were held in high regard compared to those lacking a sense for mana. They were often patronized and marginalized, creating a social divide that lasted centuries.

At least, until Argen Steam, the inventor of the steam locomotives, utilized the power of science and technology to rise in influence, riches, and power.

Nobles from foreign lands came to him for his services; he built connections far and wide and eventually created a massive faction for the marginalized, naming it 'Mechanis Argen'.

Not soon after, he petitioned the Imperial family, handing out certain terms to 'improve governance'. However, it was aimed to curtail their power.

With Argus' swift and sudden rise in realm-wide prestige. House Xageri was caught unprepared, unwilling to risk a civil war they were not ready for, not to mention the likely foreign assistance the faction might receive. They conceded to his terms, ceding some power by establishing a parliament.

That was a century ago.

Now Mechanis Argen is a powerhouse that holds a majority of the seats in the parliament, while the Xageri family consolidates their strength.

Over time, Mechanis Argen has created a culture of its own, influencing people's aesthetic sense.

Members or supporters of the faction were known to have unique metallic fittings, gadgets, and decorations in their shirts, gowns, shoes, and such.

Having made a cursory observation, Troan turned away and said.

"I feel dizzy like I might empty my bowels any moment now. But I've felt worse."

'Not that I have much to vomit anyway; I am famished, and I yearn for roasted fish!" He thought gazing up at the sculpture with a long-suffering expression.

Kaydin blinked, startled. Then he immediately looked apologetic.

"I knew I shouldn't have been in such a rush. Forgive me, Troan. It was an urgent matte—"

Troan waved the apology away.

"It is fine. There is no need for apologies here, we are brothers."

Kaydin balked for a moment, then he smiled and shifted his gaze to the throne, the sight morphing his demeanor.

"Worried?" Troan asked, after a glance at him.

"...Yes. It is a huge responsibility, after all. Ruling over people, my people."

"If you truly feel this way. Then you are already better than half the previous kings." He said matter-of-factly.

Kaydin let out a mirthless laugh.

But then he calmed down, and his eyes wavered.

"You never felt what I do now, did you? Apprehension, doubt? When we were children it always felt like you were in control, like you were born to rule—and I mean that more than in the literal sense."

Troan shot him a questioning look with a raise of his brow. "Did it seem that way?"

Then he huffed out, lightly amused. "Then I covered it well."

Kaydin turned to him with a curious expression.

"You know." Troan began. "As a child, I always worried if my words would reach my would-be subjects... When I spoke to them from the Sea King's throne, would they follow? Would they understand my vision for them?"

He thoughtfully shared before looking at Kaydin and taking a few steps towards him, stopping within arms reach.

From his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but notice how the young lady by the door tensed at his action.

He raised his ungloved left hand and hesitated slightly, before placing it on Kaydin's shoulder.

"...But you will not have such problems, Kaydin. Your words will reach them because your heart is good.

"You will do well as king," Troan said, offering a tentative smile.

"Brother..." Kaydin's eyes grew watery.

Then he turned away to the throne to hide his tears.

"Thank you, brother... I truly needed that."

Meanwhile, by the large double door—

Wriggler let out a yawn as he rested on the wall beside the door.

His gaze lazily wandered to the young woman at the other side of the door.

She was tall for a woman, possessing an olive skin tone and an athletic build. Her wild, dark hair fell over her hood as she stood with her muscles tensed.

Her intense red and green gaze watched over the proceedings between Kaydin and Troan.

Wriggler eyed her a bit, his eyes wandering down her form.

She immediately caught him looking, met his gaze, and frowned.

"What is it, Wriggler?!"

She questioned in a hard tone, impatience jagging at her words.

Wriggler smiled, pushed himself off the wall, and approached her.

"Bevy, my sweet! How are you?" He chimed, revealing a wolfish grin.

Bevy's expression morphed into a scowl.

"Not this again, Wriggler. Go flirt with the maids! I'm busy!"

"Oh! But what maid can compare to the absolute masterpiece that stands before me, eh?" He said as he reached for her chin.

Gnash!

She attempted to bite off his fingers. But he moved it away at the last moment.

Bevy glared up at him in warning but he simply stared back at her with an easy smile on his face.

Undeterred, he tried again, and she went for his fingers.

However, with a sleight of hands, an apple appeared in Wriggler's hand and she bit into it.

She looked dumbfounded, staring at Wriggler with a mouth full of apple.

"Sweet, right?" He asked with a lopsided grin.

"Just like you." He winked.

***

As Kaydin and Troan conversed they suddenly heard a thump and a groan.

They turned to find Wriggler on the ground asking for forgiveness.

Bevy stepped on him, pulling his arms back behind his back like she was trying to take them off their sockets.

Troan watched them for a moment with a grimace on his face. Then he shifted his gaze to an appalled Kaydin.

"You will...have to forgive my Swordbearer, Kaydin. He has a penchant for annoying people he definitely should not, sometimes I wonder how he has survived this long."

Kaydin chuckled nervously and said.

"We've conversed a bit over the past few days, he seems to be an interesting young man. Also, It only took a short time for him to befriend my personal guard. Quite an accomplishment, to say the least."

Suddenly, a door to the side of the throne opened, and two wyvern guards in red colors, wielding glaives, walked in.

A beautiful woman in a vibrant green velvet gown that matched her eyes followed behind with a regal bearing.

The scar running down the side of her neck and toward her clavicle on her fair skin only added to her allure: It spoke of strength—at the very least, experience in battle, and in Regulon, this was a generally attractive trait for men and women, especially for women.

A strong woman birthed strong babies, according to popular beliefs.

She had a head of blond hair with a severe case of 'salting': A term denoting the natural decolorizing/whitening of parts of the hair, commonly at the bangs and other fringes of the hair.

It was a condition common in high-ranking elementals and was an established indicator that an elemental's latency stood amongst the highest.

She went before the throne and stood, facing them.

The guards took their places before her at the steps below.

"Mother!" Kaydin revealed a bright smile. "You've come!"

She cast Kaydin a worried look before turning to Troan, and she met his gaze.

"Queen Hersana." Troan greeted neutrally with a small nod. However, his eyes held immense respect.

'Here stands before me, a Named Elemental: The Phosphorus Angel."