Chapter 24: Cryptic

It was an immense relief for Melia to finally return to her chambers and throw herself down onto the mattress. After never missing a night of sleeping in her own bed her whole life, being unable to for just two nights felt like two months. Even then, she couldn't stay lying down for more than a few minutes. Having been outside for the better part of three days, she absolutely had to go sit in the shower for half an hour, followed by re-braiding her hair, filing her nails, thoroughly cleaning her teeth and ears, and all sorts of other upkeep that had built up faster than usual in the wilderness.

With her hygiene fixed, her mind was now free to do whatever it felt like. And unsurprisingly, it immediately gravitated towards the most pivotal thing that had happened since she returned to Alcamoth: She had been chosen as her father's successor.

It was a mind-boggling revelation that defied all logic. From the moment she could understand what an emperor was, she had been told that it was to be Kallian's role. He was the first-born, he was the pure-blood, he was a popular figure, and most importantly he had support from all three parents. It falling to her was always a possibility, but not one that anyone appeared to ever seriously consider, especially herself. Yet it had to have been considered for a substantial amount of time. Otherwise, there would have been an uproar in the hall when Sorean mentioned it, by simply stating it to be the case as opposed to making an announcement about it. But instead, there was either support or silence. No one disagreed with the decision enough to react to it, let alone voice it, not even Kallian himself.

In her mind, this last point was the most confusing. Kallian had spent his entire life being brought up as the next emperor, and he explicitly supports his half-blood half-sister getting it instead? Even disregarding his extra sixty-three years of life experience, he was superior to her in every conceivable way relevant to being a ruler; there was absolutely nothing she could think of that she did better than him. It was completely baseless, dumbfounding, flabbergasting, and a whole bunch of other words that flickered around in her mind, too disorganised to be understood.

As the storm in Melia's head started to die down a bit - it was kind of exhausting thinking in circles - she found a tiny nugget of sense in the past. If Kallian was already a shoe-in for emperor, why did she have to keep her face hidden long after reaching adulthood? The whole mask and headdress getup had multiple purposes (as she had looked up once again not long ago): protect half-blooded children from yet another avenue of derision, act as an important element of certain ascension ceremonies and rituals, and hide an empress's face from the public until after marriage. There was no reason to be told to continue wearing it unless there was the slightest chance she could be successor.

Other implications of the decision started to come to the forefront. It was strange enough to write her aunt's and father's names in dates and see their faces minted on every coin; she didn't know if she could stand the feeling of having herself put there. She didn't want to have to sit in the Audience Chamber every day and be expected to have the final say in any decision, regardless of whether a second opinion was available. She didn't want to be the one making the speeches to the public, or choosing which side to upset in a debate where both sides are correct, or trying to find consorts-

The realisation sparked anxiety. Kallian was the one with all the suaveness and established "most desirable bachelor" status, yet it was her that was now supposed to be looking for people to marry. She had always been relieved that it would be Kallian stuck with the duty of picking out a First Consort from the huge mob of suitors, followed by foraging down to the Homs colonies to find a Second. But suddenly it was now to be her, the least qualified person in the universe, who as far as she knew had never generated any romantic feelings for anyone anywhere. Even purely platonic friendship was an alien sensation - the closest relationship she could consider having such feeling was that with her cadre, which even now was too painful to think about.

For some reason, Shulk's image appeared at the front of her mind. Shulk, the one who went out of his way to collect the crystals necessary to revive a complete stranger, who tried his hardest to integrate her into the group of Homs and feel more at ease, who provided the most help with the Telethia both in battle and in spirit. She tried to dismiss the thought with a shake, but it remained stuck in place, filling her mind with his clumsy yet endearing mannerisms. To make it go away, she would have to indulge it.

Yes, subconscious mind, there is indeed more fondness there than the average I have for any one person. But to make such an important decision on such a trivial feeling is illogical.

Though I suppose love and romance and etcetera are rather explicitly anti-logical concepts. And the seer's vision...

No. The First Consort must always come first.

Hang on, what are the rules for two consorts of half-blooded rulers? Neither pairing would produce pure-blood children. In fact, this would mean that no matter what action is taken, the imperial family could never be truly pure-blooded again. Surely that is not the intent of the two-consort system.

...Wait. They would be my children.

That means I would...

And that means...

Melia grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a bedpost, and tried to squeeze her newfound panic out of it. Being an empress would be enough of a tax on her life without motherhood on top of it, not to mention that just thinking about the whole process of producing children left her sick to her stomach.

After about four or five minutes of frenzied alarm, she managed to regain control of herself by finding a glimmer of hope: she may very well be infertile, just like her aunt was. It was beyond unlikely, but if it was a genetic issue the chances would be up, and she could fob the duty off onto Kallian where it belongs. Ever since her aunt's case, a fertility test was mandated upon choosing a successor - she didn't know what it would entail, or when it would be administered, but maybe she could intentionally fail it.

No, absolutely not. That would be immoral of the highest order, regardless of how much the alternative would ruin everything, and depending on what the test is could be easily detected as fraud. All I can do is hope for the best. Who knows, maybe I'm ineligible for producing heirs anyway due to being half-blooded; this is a never-before-seen case and perhaps I can set the precedent.

With a tiny seed of hope that the worst might not come to pass, her mindset started to turn more positive. What were the good parts of being empress? She could set the kitchens' menu, minimising the odds of receiving something untasty for meals. She would still have to listen to her parents, but she could just turn around and proceed to completely ignore them. She would be informed about all the seer's visions immediately. She could finally get rid of that blasted third-floor staircase. She could order the tailors to start making clothes that actually reliably covered her entire body. She could set her own daily schedule, moving tennis from one day to another or dropping it altogether. She could set other people's schedules.

All this may be true, but it is overall rather petty and frivolous. I can't think of anything that is both positive and substantial. There's still no good to come of this decision from my viewpoint.

My best hope may be the timeframe. Father simply mentioned this in passing with no given plan; as far as I can tell nothing official has been done at this time. He still has the opportunity to change his mind and make the correct choice. It would be immoral to force him to do so by setting out to ruin my reputation in public...but if I simply begin failing at tasks he sets me...no, that's not acceptable either.

Why does it seem like he never sets Brother any tasks like he does me? Because he's already proven himself as the prime candidate. Why go through the trouble of forcing me to challenge him when you can just give him the throne with no regrets?

After frustratingly pacing around in circles for several minutes, once again trying to make sense of her father's decision, she flopped back into bed exhausted. No answers were forthcoming, she probably wouldn't get any answers from anyone, and there was absolutely no way her words alone could change anyone's minds. Her only real hope was that common sense prevail before anything official proceed.

How long am I likely to have before the decision would be set in stone? Father is a perfectly healthy three-twenty; he must have at least twenty or thirty years remaining. That is plenty of time for him to come to his senses. It's possible he may contract an incurable illness before then, but depending on its nature he may be declared unfit to make the decision if the process has not yet commenced, and mother would most certainly give the throne to Brother.

Given that, there's no sense in worrying too much now. I need to clear my head of all this. With that, Melia attempted to have a nap.

She didn't get much time to sleep. After about half an hour - though it only felt like five minutes - there was a knock on the door. Grumbling and stumbling, she shuffled over to open it. To her great surprise, it was Captain Denzel.

The captain wasted no time. "The emperor requests your presence, Lady Melia."

A large dose of foul thoughts arose in her mind, frustrated that she wasn't afforded sufficient rest after completing a monumental task. With a stiff and neutral face, she wordlessly followed Denzel back to the Audience Chamber.

The hall looked mostly the same as the day when she was ordered to go after the Telethia, though a bit less tense. The rest of the royal family was gathered near the throne, giving off the impression that they had been discussing something immediately before she arrived. Alvis was also present, which reminded her that he was supposed to "interrogate" Shulk and the other Homs. This made her feel a bit less sour at being roped back out of her room - maybe he had just reported on their trustworthiness.

Sorean began immediately after Melia kneeled down. "Melia Antiqua. Mere hours ago, I revealed to you my intent to declare you my successor. After all you have been through in the past few days, I am sure you did not grasp the full import of this decision immediately. But now that you have had some time to yourself, to rest and regroup, tell me what you say to my choice."

Melia looked up with a purpose. This felt like it would be her one and only chance to change her father's mind. She had to get it perfect.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I feel you are committing a grave mistake. The public yearns for the succession of Prince Kallian, who is more able than I in all aspects relevant to ruling Alcamoth, over six decades more experienced and wise, flawless in battle alongside any allies, and most importantly, capable of selecting the most suitable consorts and continuing the pure-blood imperial line. To say that I outshine him in any possible way is simple ignorance."

She hung her head back down towards the floor, believing she had fit in everything she needed to spell out, trying to be frank without being rude.

The expectation was there to be a long silence, with perhaps some worried muttering or exasperated sighs. She did not expect Sorean to simply continue as if he expected such a response.

"I respect your words. They come from a mind born of the Second Consort, raised as the second child, and trained as the second heir. And you have simply accepted this position without debate, without a hint of lament or envy. But to be empress is not a position given to whoever arrives first. It is bestowed upon those who understand the issues that face our society, who have an empathy with the public and its needs, and who have proven themselves to do what needs to be done, even at great risk to themselves. And it is under these tenants that Kallian is of no equal to you. He would make a fine ruler indeed - but you shall be a far greater one."

...I...suppose that's it, then. If he was prepared in advance for me to balk, there is nothing I can do to change his mind. I can only hope that some other event in the near future forces him to reconsider, before any part of the process is begun.

There were footsteps. Melia looked up to see Sorean walking behind the throne and taking the Imperial Staff from its perch.

No. No, no, no, no no no no no nonononono, stop, don't do it, put it back, get away from me- She had no choice but to remain still, her eyes screwed shut in terror, as he approached and began speaking in Hightongue.

"Melia Aquila Victoria Yolanda Antiqua, First Princess, daughter of Emperor Sorean and the late Second Consort Clara, multi-generational ethermistress and slayer of Telethia." He rested the head of the Imperial Staff on her right shoulder, which felt a lot heavier than it looked. "It is with great pride and joy that I anoint you as the successor to the imperial line. When the day comes that I can no longer perform my duties, whether through death, infirmity, or simple choice, it shall be you who ascends to the throne as Empress of Alcamoth." He moved the staff to the other shoulder. "May the forefathers look fondly upon this moment, upon our bright future, and upon Empress Melia!"

Applause filled the hall. Eyes still jammed shut, Melia couldn't tell exactly what its extent was, but it felt like it was coming from every person present. It also felt like the staff still on her shoulder had gotten a fair bit lighter, though it seemed the weight simply moved to her heart.

Once the applause died down, Sorean lifted the Imperial Staff and placed it back where it belonged, before continuing to speak in Common. "All who are present have acknowledged this monumental occasion, but those of the public and those who have passed have yet to. As one of mixed race and unexpected anointment, you must seek the approval of the people and the ancestors before you can set upon this path. Therefore, I lay the Trial of the Tomb before you. Its successful completion will secure you the respect of all of Alcamoth, living and dead. What say you?"

Melia knew pretty much all that needed to be known about the Trial of the Tomb: no one knew what it involved, but whatever it was, it was quite deadly. Whether it could be any deadlier than a full-sized Telethia was questionable, but at least she had a lot of help with the Telethia. The trial would be undertaken alone.

I have absolutely no desire to continue along this path. But as usual, I am given only the illusion of choice.

"I accept." Look up, to fake confidence. "If I am to lead the High Entia despite my mixed heritage...If I am to succeed the throne, then I accept what must be done."

Sorean presented a broad smile. "I expect nothing less of my successor. The path to greatness is fraught with danger. This shall be your statement to Bionis."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Melia remained still. It wasn't the first time she felt like she was accepting the task of walking into certain death, but at least the previous ones all had an element of necessity or heroism to them. Attempting to claim a throne she did not want was not worth risking her life for.

"You shall begin the trial tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. The announcement will be made to the public at nine-thirty." Sorean took a deep breath. "That will be all."

Melia nodded wordlessly and turned to leave, feeling soundly defeated in every possible way.

Melia read the nameplate set into the door: "Mr. Reddel". It occurred to her that she had no idea what her ether instructor's first name was, despite being tutored by him for over twenty years. Of course, this was hardly a proper time to ask; his office hours ended in about five minutes, and it might take that long to get her more important question answered.

She pressed the doorbell, which could be heard outside the office as a muffled two-note chime. She'd never had any reason to visit the offices of the various combat instructors before, so it made her a bit skittish.

After about twenty seconds, the door faded away to reveal Reddel. His serious expression vanished quickly once he realised who it was.

"Ah, Melia! This is a pleasant surprise. Come in." He gestured inside emphatically.

Melia nervously placed herself in the guest chair as Reddel took a set at his desk, which was covered in handwritten notes about ether physics. Several certificates dotted the walls, while an important-looking document was open on the computer screen.

"I'm sorry I couldn't congratulate you earlier on vanquishing that Telethia, but as you can see I've been a bit busy recently," Reddel began. "And I also heard you are to take on the Trial of the Tomb tomorrow, which...honestly, I'm rooting for you all the way. Your exceptional skill will see you though whatever's in store. But I imagine you've come here with a question. What is it?"

Melia nodded. "Indeed. When I was in the forest fighting the Telethia, I was afflicted with a very severe case of ether deficiency."

Reddel's brow furrowed. "Really? I can't say I'm too surprised, the creatures can be quite dangerous in that regard...but how severe? You seem all right at first glance."

"I was rendered unconscious for several hours, only awoken by a very strong dispersed healing round by an ether rifle. And even now, I have difficulty with several ether arts, most prominently those learned most recently. I fear that I am too handicapped to complete the trial."

"Hmmm." Reddel passed his hand over Melia's head a few times. Apparently not finding what he was looking for, he took a cylindrical instrument out of a drawer and did the same again. "...Yes, I do sense some lingering effects of deficiency. Would you say you have had some mood issues since this incident?"

"...Perhaps. It is difficult to tell, as I feel I have yet to find myself in a normal situation since."

"Ah, I see. Yes, being in a continual state of emotional upheaval will slow the recovery process." Reddel scratched his chin. "Given that, I'm sorry to say that I don't have any advice for you. If you cannot have a few days of uninterrupted rest, it may take weeks to reach your pre-deficient potential."

That's what I was afraid of. "I see. Thank you for your counsel regardless." Melia stood up and turned to leave.

"Good luck, Melia." The sentence felt surprisingly distant, as if betraying Reddel's worry.

The nature of the Tomb was generally considered an imperial secret; the public knew little about it other than "the dead royals go there". But the truth was a bit weirder: not even the imperial family themselves knew much about it. It had its own control nexus of unknown origin that oversaw the placement of new arrivals and kept its dronautic security forces operational, in addition to administering the Trial when necessary, but aside from that any knowledge of its layout and mechanisms seemed to be lost to history. There was no need or interest to attempt exploring or deconstructing it - it did well enough on its own without interference, and no one wanted to take the risk of upsetting any fine balances it may have curated.

Melia cautiously walked down the hallway following her verification, constantly turning her head to look around. Technically, she only had to possess the Empress Mask and its accompanying headdress during the trial, but to carry it around seemed like even more of a hindrance than simply wearing the assembly. Besides, it wasn't the kind of potential loophole worth toying with. For all she knew, the ancient spirits would be offended by such antics.

Eventually, the hallway came to an end, leading into an impressive sight. The circular walls of the massive room were covered with hundreds of stone slabs, each one inscripted with glowing runes in the ancient alphabet. There was no floor; the room simply continued downwards towards seemingly infinity. In the middle of the room was a pillar, the only real feature aside from the small ledge she was standing on, which had the High Entia emblem carved into it. Another door was distantly visible on the opposite side of the room.

Melia didn't need to look over the edge to gather that it was an insurmountable drop. The total blackness and feeling of hopelessness the pit radiated was enough of an indicator.

I presume I need to get to the central pillar somehow. There was no visible means of doing so; the gap was far too wide to jump, and all the blocks on the walls were layered downwards, leaving no footholds - not that climbing around the walls would lead towards the centre anyways.

Melia recalled what Kallian had said about the trial just after breakfast. Knowledge of what exactly the trial contained was intentionally left to fade into history, so as to remain an unknown challenge. But one rock-solid fact that had been passed down through the ages was that the trial was fair. There would be no obstacles or challenges that could only be overcome with prior knowledge of them, there would be no hidden tricks or traps unaccompanied by obvious warning signs, and food and sleep would be provided if necessary (though via unknown means). The trial was not about attempting to kill the candidate and admitting success to the survivors; it was about testing their abilities and ensuring that only the best could ascend to the throne. The fact that failure and death seemed to be inseparable was attributed to an assumption that those who did not succeed would rather join the dead than return with dishonour.

Yet despite that knowledge, it sure seemed like she had no way to proceed. Unless she had missed something blatantly obvious, she had come to a dead end pretty much immediately. The only real way of crossing the massive gap would be if she could fly-

...oh. There it was. All she had to do was simply fly across the pit to reach the pillar. It would take no more than ten seconds, something that even a complete novice at flight could accomplish if they wanted it bad enough. But of course, it was impossible for half-bloods with small wings.

Melia knew that no half-blood had ever returned from the Trial of the Tomb before, but she figured it was just because they had been sent in as a way to dispose of them; most of them had been sent to the trial by bitter parents who expected and desired them to fail and vanish. Very few were legitimate succession candidates, and even then the records showed that it was their choice and not the parents' to undertake the ritual, attempting to prove themselves better than their pure-blooded sibling. She certainly wasn't part of the second category, and refused to believe she was part of the first - her father was not that kind of person.

Or was he? The self-doubt started to creep in. Kallian seemed far too indifferent to it being announced that he wouldn't be emperor next, despite him being taught for pretty much his whole life that it would be him no questions asked. And why would her father have sent her on all these dangerous missions if-

No, stop it. She violently shook her head. There is no ulterior motive to his actions. He made his decision, for whatever unfathomable reason, and I'm not going to disappoint him. She looked back across the expanse. But would he have sent me here if he knew about this obstacle?

Starting to fidget, Melia began pacing around the small platform, poking and prodding the floor and reachable walls, blindly trying to locate a hidden switch or button that could achieve something. Nothing of the sort could be found. All the while, the emptiness of the pit continued to well up, filling more and more of her mind with a lingering sense of dread. What was she supposed to do? Return to her father and raise a stink about the trial being racist? Walk across an invisible platform that only exists when it is believed to? Or accept failure, recognising that the ancestors explicitly do not want half-blooded rulers, and throw herself into the nothingness?

I need to clear my head. Melia moved to retreat to the previous hallway, just to get away from the pit and its negative influence for a few minutes.

But the door refused to admit her passage; it remained completely solid as she approached it, not allowing her to leave the room. She was trapped on the ledge.

Okay I guess I won't. Some "fair" this is if...actually, this could be part of the trial, the ability to think clearly when under the influence of oppressive circumstances. But this isn't exactly a situation where thinking does anything, is it?

Restless, she switched between standing up and sitting down for several minutes, not really accomplishing anything beyond thinking herself in circles. It was looking more and more like her only option was to jump into the pit, which unless the solution to the puzzle was blind faith, would most certainly result in death. Panic was starting to set in.

~lp~

Melia's head sank into her hands. She was hearing things now, a sure sign of madness, probably from all the negative energy the pit was radiating.

~er~*-#~pl~_~

It was...almost like someone was whispering, actually. Or a bunch of someones, all whispering from so far away that only a few syllables could be heard. She figured it was some remnant or artifact of all the spirits within the tomb.

~elp~-\=~+/~le~-~%~us~*~#=~

"...quiet." She didn't expect the whispering to stop, but it would be nice to hear her own voice for a change - if it didn't seem so flat and lifeless from the room's deadening acoustics.

To her surprise, the whispering did indeed stop. But after a few seconds it started back up again, louder and less intelligible than before, originating from everywhere at once.

Melia figured that if the voices could understand speech, they could be worth talking to; maybe having a definite conversation would cause their speech to converge on something understandable, and perhaps might have a hint at how to proceed. She took a few moments to put something together before shouting into the void.

"Voices of the esteemed ancestors! My way forward in this trial is impassable for no reason other than my Homs heritage. Why would we continue the practice of Second Consorts if such children are tainted in your eyes? Do the forefathers truly believe that a ruler's genes matter more than their mind and will?"

The whispering stopped again, and did not return. After about twenty seconds, the seal carved into the floor lit up yellow, followed by a golden bridge of light appearing between the ledge and the central pillar.

Melia collapsed to the floor in relief that she had cracked the puzzle. Speaking out against half-blood oppression was the key. A half-blood who simply accepts their fate when confronted with discrimination would never be a viable ruler.

After taking a moment to collect herself - the pit wasn't nearly as ominous now that the solution was present - she carefully crossed the bridge. While it looked like a suspended yellow liquid, it felt more like glass and didn't actually undulate underfoot. Upon reaching the central pillar, the bridge faded away.

It was relatively obvious that Melia had to stand in the middle of the pillar, given the overall design of the patterns on the floor. Once she did so, a drone appeared in a flash of light, shaped vaguely like a handheld mirror.

It's some sort of Andos. Low-threat sentry drone, only true strength is in numbers.

She waited for the Andos to make the first move - a telegraphed swing with its left "arm". Now certain that she was to fight it, she backed away and unloaded several elementals into it. It only lasted fifteen seconds before collapsing, spilling liquid ice ether over the floor. Another yellow bridge appeared, allowing access to the ledge on the far side of the room.

That was easy. A bit suspiciously easy, in fact. Melia searched through the drone's remains to see if she was supposed to collect anything of it, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Well, if the intent is to test combat ability, it is sensible to start small. After all, the greatest emperors are thinkers and leaders, not necessarily fighters.

Satisfied that she was not missing anything, she proceeded across the second bridge, which led her through another hallway. She slowed her pace as she moved through the hall, ensuring that she did not glance over anything that could possibly be important. There was nothing of the sort, and it didn't take long for the hall to end.

The second major room was very much like the first: a massive cylinder with a central pillar lodged in a pit of emptiness. The main difference was that the entrance ledge wrapped around half of the walls, resulting in having a choice of turning left or right to access one of the two lightbridges that led inwards.

What's the challenge here? Melia walked around the outside edge both ways and found no difference between the two paths. A red herring? Why have two paths if they are identical? She cautiously crossed one of the bridges into the middle, grateful she didn't have to make a speech for each one to appear.

This time, once she reached the centre, two drones appeared, both shaped like a stack of discs with various auxiliary flaps.

A pair of Astas. Weaker structurally, but with more ether firepower than an Andos. It was simple to force one Astas into sleep mode while she whaled on the other one, careful not to wake the first up in the process. The whole battle took less than a minute, including a few cathartic staff blows at the end.

Trivial. Complete child's play. She looked forward, with the bridge already beckoning her to proceed. Two battles of zero difficulty and one cerebral challenge that a pure-blood can simply skip. If it's been this easy so far, how long is it going to be? Surely the trial is not composed of nothing but simple tasks.

Even more carefully and cautiously than before, Melia continued forward. The third hallway was virtually identical to the previous two, with a disturbing lack of any notable features. At this point, it felt like the trial was going to be a massive series of battles and puzzles, snaking through dozens of indistinguishable rooms and halls, slowly rising in difficulty along the way. But the tomb was only so large, and it seemed wasteful to devote so much space to such a rare ceremony. Something wasn't adding up.

The third hallway opened up into a smaller room, with architecture that made it extremely obvious that this was the ancestral altar, and that the trial finished here.

Melia was extremely confused. What? That's it? Impossible. No, something else is at play here. It can't be over already. I have yet to really do anything of importance, aside from speaking out to get the bridges to appear. That can't possibly be it...can it?

She searched around the room a bit. There didn't seem to be anything of note, aside from the spot in the middle where she was clearly supposed to go, and the door stopped her from backtracking.

This trial is known through history as dangerous, and proven to have killed many capable candidates. Yet if this is indeed the end, it has posed absolutely no challenge whatsoever. How can this discrepancy be solved? The obvious case is that it is not over, and this room is a trick - but with no hints of such, that would seem to violate the implication that the trial is fair. A second possibility is that my skill in combat is far beyond what is expected of an empress, and that the drones are indeed supposed to be a legitimate threat. I would call that reasonably likely, given that I am indeed a generational talent with ether, but two battles still seems rather few. What could a third possibility be...?

Melia stood and thought for a few minutes, but couldn't come up with any further theories as to why the trial seemed so easy. Eventually she simply shrugged.

As easy as the trial itself might have been, I still await judgement by whatever system is installed in this chamber. Given that I was effectively granted permission to proceed this far, I cannot assume that I will fail simply due to being half-blooded. But if it is in any way aware that Brother exists, that would certainly be grounds for an automatic refusal. If the judgement involves a test of knowledge or intelligence, I would probably succeed. I'm not sure what other criteria could be relevant.

If I am refused, which I cannot see as anything but the most logical option, I am perfectly content to return to the palace with dishonour. As with all major imperial business, the entirety of Father's speeches and my rebuttal were inscribed into history automatically, and so it will be known that it was his choice and not mine to partake in the trial. The dishonour will be attributed to his actions, not mine. My name will be sullied for a few generations at most.

Prepared for her judgement, Melia stepped forward.

Alvis motioned towards the exit. "It is time for us to depart."

Everyone acknowledged him and started walking back towards the outside world.

With her newly-ensealed mask under her arm, Melia led the way through the halls and across the lightbridges, careful to ensure the latter remained active for everyone else's passage. She would put the mask back on once they reached the entrance; it was a nice change of pace to have just the headdress on for a bit. It was tricky enough to fight weak drones with the mask on; trying to fight both an assassin and a massive Telethia was a real pain. But all things considered, it went quite well. There was some new information to sort out, like what exactly the ancestral simulation meant and the assassin's claimed allegiance to Yumea, but for now she would just enjoy the victory.

Melia noticed that Alvis was carrying an old black book. "Seer, what do you have there?"

Alvis held the book out to her, revealing that it also had a pair of glasses clipped to the back cover. "Perhaps Shulk is most suited to explain."

"Oh, um, yeah. So while we were fighting through the security drones down there, we found what looked kind of like a treasury. After a fight inside, the biggest drone collapsed into a container and this spilled out. And then it closed itself back up. We couldn't just leave it laying around, so we decided to take it with us."

"I see." Melia took hold of the book. It didn't feel all that old, though of course the tomb was designed for preserving its contents. The single word KOR was emblazoned across the front, with the spine revealing the author was a Flanery Jostier.

Hold a moment. "This book remains currently in publication. I have seen it at bookstores as recently as two months ago." She recalled giving it a look only to decide on something else. But now that she knew that it had been around for quite some time, her interest in it spiked. She flipped it over to read the faded words on the back cover: Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of...KOR

Shulk looked pretty guilty about his decision. "If you want us to put it back, then-"

"N-No, that is not necessary. Royals of the past would sometimes have their favoured possessions placed within the tomb, with the intent that a descendant would eventually find and put use to them."

"Riki is reliefed. Riki put use to many Tasty Sausages that he found lying around. Riki happy that he was okay to take."

I'm not sure I want to know what that's about. Melia slid the light-framed glasses free of the book to investigate. They seemed to be non-prescription, with a slight reddish tint to the lenses. A pair of small electric gems were set into the tips of the earpieces.

"I shall have these glasses appraised in order to confirm my suspicion that they host the equivalent of a rank five offensive ether gem. If they do not impede vision, they should be a useful tool."

"Why don't you try them on then?" suggested Sharla.

"...I suppose I can." Melia cautiously placed the glasses onto her face. The lenses indeed did not affect her vision, but the red blanket they covered the world in was strong enough to be annoying.

"I would not wear these at all times; the tinted lenses are too strong for everyday use. But perhaps as preparation for a battle that is known in advance. Of course, that is merely my opinion; anyone else is free to use them." She placed the glasses back into the book.

As the group approached the exit, Melia placed the mask back onto her face. It was probably her imagination, but it seemed notably lighter and less visually restrictive than before.

Alvis motioned for her to stop. "I believe you should wait for us to have fully departed before you yourself exit the tomb. You entered alone, and thus should exit alone."

She nodded. "That is a reasonable suggestion. Thank you, Seer. If I may make one of my own, I would like everyone currently present to be allowed back into the tomb for any reason. If Shulk and his friends intend to continue their quest against the Mechon, I wish to allow them access to any further useful items that they may find inside."

"I shall do what I can, Your Majesty."

The use of a new title was unexpected. It was also probably technically incorrect. But as the others left her alone again, Melia realised that Alvis's use of the term "crown princess" in his vision about Shulk was indeed true. And depending on what exactly she was supposed to do about consorts...maybe it was a prophecy of marriage after all.

Melia sat in a chair on the balcony of the Imperial Villa. It was something she'd started doing over the past few months whenever she felt a change of scenery would be beneficial for her mental state - something which was sorely needed now.

It was an impossibly unbelievable sequence of events. Standing in front of the public to overwhelming cheers. Yumea, her biggest family adversary, locked away for the foreseeable future, admitting to being part of the thought-extinct though still-thoroughly-illegal Bionite Order. Kallian swearing to pour his full effort into searching the vast imperial texts to find what, if any, provisions for half-blooded rulers existed. Sorean declaring that she were free of duties aside from the applicable ceremonies until everything was completed - after which she would ascend to the throne immediately, without waiting for the current emperor's death. It was still quite a nonsensical decision in her eyes, but it had to have some degree of merit if the tomb's ancestral simulation agreed with it.

It was this fact that sparked a minor realisation. As empress, one of her first tasks would be to decode the most ancient texts to obtain the critical and critically secret information hidden within, with no help allowed from anyone. Expecting it to be a very tough job, she might buy a few months to ease into her new position, with both her father and brother available to cover for her other duties during that time. And of course she had always wanted to know what could possibly be hidden in such texts that only one person at a time was allowed to know. Maybe there could be something that would explain why someone like her had been selected over someone like Kallian - a long shot to be sure, but still very possible.

In fact, that was a perfectly plausible loophole. All she had to do was declare Kallian as temporary regent, and she was basically free for as long as everyone was okay with it. Probably anything more than a year would be pushing it, but that would hopefully be enough time to solve the texts and grow into the throne. When would be a good time to announce such a decision? The upcoming banquet to celebrate her success in the Tomb seemed a bit early, but doing it quickly might stop her from overthinking it.

Melia was taken out of her thoughts by seeing something moving on the skybridge towards the villa.

It's Shulk and his companions. Why are they here? Do they know what this place is? They must, the guards would have ensured it before allowing passage.

Are they...looking for me?

It was still an unfamiliar sensation, the feeling of someone seeking her out for no true benefit of their own. Shulk had came to her aid in the forest and in the tomb out of nothing but altruism, and now he was coming to meet her in a personal space at a time where no help was known to be necessary.

Is this what true friendship is like? Visiting a person for no reason? Or is there...something more?

Melia got up and began travelling down to meet the party. It occurred to her that this would be the first time they would be seeing her wings uncovered, but to be honest she felt like it was overdue by now. At this point, it was hard to believe it could be some sort of surprise.