Mirielle Rosseau

[Moonlighter]

Let me tell you a tale, sweet monsieur, of two starlets. The closest of friends, once, and then eventually rivals. Both for center stage and for the hearts of their people. Only a little more than a decade ago, in a Ring where the City itself seemed to be made of lights...

One, a raven-haired beauty, small and sweet and with a heart so pure, who wanted nothing more than to be loved. But her voice? It wasn't as perfect as the rest of her. Try as she might, it would always shake when the spotlight was cast upon her.

The other, a tall and statuesque blonde. The kind of woman who received what her rival wanted so easily. Too easily. She had a voice that when raised in song never once quavered, and her people adored her for it. A presence that enchanted, and a smile that always showed warmth.

As one star rose, the other, she fell, and love so quickly turned to hatred.

Our little raven, she took up a blade. A long and thin thing, with a good and balanced weight in her little hand. A sharp and dangerous point at it's tip.  It was dangerous in the streets at night for one of her renown, oui? She learned, and she practiced, as her career fell to ruin. Second billing at the best of times, and little of the fawning adoration she so pined for.

A name destined never to be put up among the many lights. C'est la vie.

She had become strong, though. Fleet of foot, and so very canny. Her talent with her favored instrument became second only to her wit, and as she washed off the stage she knew what must happen. Our sweet, innocent, warbling little bird took that weapon...

And she drove it, between the blonde's ribs, with all of her hatred! Again and again, while she remembered every time she was passed over for the other. With so much force it bent that elegant blade, and left it forever crooked. And our little heroine? She just smiled her perfect smile, as she watched the life drain from her rival's eyes.

From that day forward, her trade was with that blade, and she would never again grace the stage.

A fitting way to make her name, no?

[Moonlighter]

"Do any of these eager ne'er-do-wells strike as true Banderossi?" She asked, in her thick accent. Capuano had taken off the helmet, which I'd learned was a good sign for my continued well-being, but she still held onto her knife all the same. This-- along with her usual intense stare-- signified that this was another of her little tests for me as well. "The last time I gave them a task they fucked it up in a most disappointing fashion."

"I heard about that." I didn't remark further. It's not my job to make excuses for my Recluta. "Banducci has made the company nearly as much money as I have." I began, starting with the most easily laudable. "He's why we're richer than the Pyramid right now."

"Baako is a bit of a dullard, but he is possessed of a steady set of hands. He follows orders, and has his own initiative..."

Baako. Poor, sweet, simple Baako. It seems like the instant one of these Recluta earns even the littlest bit of my affections, they have to go and die or disappear... but I cannot complain this time, I sent this one to his death, albeit unknowingly.

"Laurentis... I wonder. She seems an ambitious sort, and will not be content to be my understudy forever." I continued.

She aggressively solicited me to be my right hand. This means one of two things: She'll either aid me in my ascent to the Condottieri, out of hope that such loyalty will be rewarded or wait until the moment is ripe and betray me. Cut me down, and take my place. It's what I would do.

"Skatterhawk has been impressive. Conducted herself well in the Council Meetings, asked the right questions, and didn't take shit from anybody. The only people with a bad word to say about her are Balladeers."

She was multi-faceted. Everyone approached me, upon my return, to compliment me on my Recluta's ability to handle crisis and behave diplomatically, in contrast to her crude and aggressive demeanor. The best prospect of the group, if there was one.

I concluded my assessment of our prospects, eyes lingering on the Condottiera's for any sign of approval or disapproval. A difficult mask to see through.

"Banducci, Banducci..." She began... "One wonders if he would not be more suited for a life spent in the Souk. Though, his generosity does do him some credit." I nodded along. "He strikes me as a balker, though..."

"As for dull and dependable... they have their place. Provided they understand it."

I gave a little wistful smile. A little sentimentality.

"I miss Bootpolisher every day, ma cherie..."

There was a lack of comprehension, and then a spark of recognition on her face.

"Who? Oh, him. The Recluta, Balestriere.. Tears in the rain, and so on. It takes a measure for me to remember their names.. And another yet to remember them when they're done. T'is a bloody business we work."

A grim nod of my head.

"Oui, it is so, my Condottiera."

I realized, then, one of the ways my transformation was yet incomplete: I hadn't yet broken the part of me that cared when my underlings came and went. I carried them all with me, their memories, and their goals and ambitions. Every single one of them.

I am still far too childish.

[Moonlighter]

In the distance, we watched the weapons factory become a conflagration as we sailed out of port. Bloodied and blooded in equal measure, I pulled off my helm, eyes eagerly watching the fireworks display.

"Ah! Look at it burn!" I exclaimed, cheerfully, as the tides rocked our vessel. The Janissaries and Recluta seemed to join me in the revelry, but the Astronomers were not so pleased with our successful mission.
"Yeah... Look at it burn." The shackled woman at my side remarked, wistfully. "It's a special thing. One of my favorite memories's just like it. Long time ago now."
Her eyes roved over the assembled party, before landing on me.
"A toast? Or a smoke?" I offered my flask to the wounded Lendakari as the familiar shoreline of Qadira appeared in the distance.
"Enjoy." She started, leaning forward like she might take a drink. It was then that I caught the sign of a chain in her teeth, attached to her bandolier. Then, there was a loud noise, and a flash of light and heat tore through me. "... your trip to Shore."

Laughter in my ears rang as I hit the water hard.


"I've been informed that a group of mercenaries from Banafsi arrived yesterday."
"From Banafsi, you say...?"
I had already sniffed out where this one was headed. Colmes gave me a slight nod of his head.
"Known as the Sukaitza company. They demanded entrance, and to speak with our Legates in regards to a few matters in particular..."
I tried not to let the anger show on my face. I probably didn't succeed.
"That is not good."
"We are aware."
The Sergeant to my right immediately replied. We all nodded our heads in unison.

The Sukaita Company. That is not a name I expected to ever have to hear again.

I feel like I am a hostage in my own City. Someone is here who wishes me dead, and yet on the word of a Janissary, I have not sought them out and cut them down like the dog they are. Ah, how far the mighty have fallen!

Still. Colmes is Warmaster, and I am ever a professional. He wants this done a certain way, and I will abide it until it grows too inconvenient. If he wants to use them to buy us some time against Iakmes, then it saves me the trouble of finishing what I started on Acante.

I will keep a "low profile" until they are deployed to the front.

This is not the first time I have had to swallow my pride.


"Just don't do anything rash before I get the chance to address them."
"I shall be placid and sanguine as ever, Lieutenant." I smiled. "I offered that bitch a cigarette, and she blew me up with a grenade. Maybe we will just have to settle this personally."

Lendakari Aitana Galvez.

[Moonlighter]

"I can have this dwarf killed for you, Lieutenant Colmes. Aurelio, that is a bit more complicated of an issue. I'm sure you understand."

My eyes bored a hole into Rennik Colmes. Past the flesh. Past the bone. Into his sad little soul.

He didn't answer.

Coward.

Does he not understand how many people will die if we continue on this path?! Does he even care?!

If Zosmere is allowed to continue to whisper into the ear of the various do-gooders of the Well then Colmes will have a full on mutiny on his hands. One we can ill afford. One that will split the forces of Ephia's Well. One where we will fill the graveyards of this place twice over, and know naught but defeat for it.

Fine. So be it. I do not need his approval. I do not need anyone's approval.

I have Emilia. I have Yataghan. One day, I will have all of Ephia's Well.

"Do it." I whispered to her, to my sweet, loyal, killer songbird.

I could sense her sadistic glee.


"Balestriere Laurentis killed a Prince last night. Who gave that order?"

La Capitana's gaze was intense. I kept my head dipped, from respect, and from the pure gravity of those hardened eyes upon me.

"I did, Captain."

She shook her head, and tutted.

"You've overstepped. Balestriere do not give orders to Balestriere."

I could hear the rattle of steel and heavy breathing as Louis moved behind me. I braced myself. My vision went black.

It took a moment to adjust the helm over my head so I could meet her gaze again.

"Condottiero. You will not disappoint me."

She spoke these words to me like they were a certain fact.

The weight of them nearly made my knees buckle.


"Greetings."

"I have--"

The Commander-Priest held up a shushing finger, and then pulled free a complicated device from his ceremonial vestments.

"Four... three... two... yes. Five seconds earlier than anticipated, Condottiero Mirielle Rosseau."

At least an introduction was not necessary.

"Your coming was written. Your coming was known. But not precise. Five seconds earlier than anticipated. What accounts for this discrepancy?"

I sheepishly considered my next words. Many of them welled up inside me, all fighting to get out at once.

I did not tell him about dooming the thousands of people of Got Valdhazr to death at the hands of the Orcs. I did not tell him about the climactic battle to come at Arslan. I did not tell him about all that rode upon it. I did not tell him of La Capitana's words. I did not tell him that I had to win, or none of the things I'd done until now would have been worth it.

I did not tell him that I had come to beg for the succor of the undefeated Sage, the Admiral, the woman who with guile and might had mastered the sciences of tactics and war. I did not tell him I did this so that with her guiding light I could at least manage to look at myself in the mirror when the dust settled on all of this.

I'm sure he knew all of this, anyway.

"Let's call it War. War is a good motivator, no?" I finally replied, with a smile.

He nodded his head.

"An error in our calculations, perhaps. But it is acceptable."