Noble heard the clanging drifting faintly from the windows. She opened her mouth to ask what might be making such a ruckus, but one look at Syrce's mischievous grin told her it would be better for her to go and seek out the sound for herself.
She glanced at Roan, who nodded, and the five Masters headed for the nearest balcony. It was strange how quickly they had all adapted to not needing conventional exits. Between Noble's levitation and Roan's griffin, they rarely needed to walk anywhere they went.
Reaching the open air, Flint pulled the belt from his shoulder. Noble shook her head.
"This should be a short trip. No need for magical relics."
"That isn't stopping you from wearing Mirage's cape." Flint rolled his eyes.
"I am not using it as a relic. It is a good defense from the morning's chill. Anyway, I need it for protection. I never know when someone is going to set the world around me on fire." Noble smirked.
The surly Master grunted. "You nearly cook your cohort members alive one time, and you never hear the end of it! Fine, Blondie, lift me like a child if you must, but you drop me and I'll know it was on purpose."
Syrce came up beside them, breathing in the chilly air with an elated expression. She looked at the others, her grey eyes shining brightly.
"Race you to the bottom!"
With that, she leaned over the side and tumbled toward the ground. Noble tensed, fighting the urge to stop the Saint from her suicidal dive.
The low railings of the balconies really were a fall hazard! Thankfully, Syrce's fall had been intentional. When she was almost to the ground, her Transcendent form took shape, lifting her even with the rest of the group.
Noble smirked. "Let's go!"
Raising everyone but Roan from the ground, Noble dashed after the ball of energy. Even with the chill, it was a very pleasant morning. The sunlight seemed to wash away the fear from the night before, making it feel more like a dream than a memory.
The beautiful palace of Mirage was bathed in the warm glow such that the stone reflected it with a faint shimmer. The sight was breathtaking.
'It's hard to believe I am in a Nightmare, and this is a copy of a copy of true Bastion.' Noble blinked.
Was that the correct way to phrase it? Or was it a copy of the copy of true Bastion, which was a copy of the real true Bastion? Wait, if the true Bastion had been pulled into the Dream Realm from its original Realm, was it even the real true Bastion?
'It's too early for that kind of thinking...' Noble shook her head.
With her Saintly speed, Syrce was already across the lake. Noble joined her with her companions in tow, setting them on the soft earth beside her.
"You are slow this morning, dear Bel." Syrce clicked her tongue.
Child of Promise furrowed her brow. "Well, you had a head start, and I had to bring three other people with me."
The mossy-haired Saint laughed. "Still, always give it your best! And speaking of best...shall we?"
Syrce pointed to the spot where Lady Maelys and her soldiers were hard at work. Noble nodded. "After you."
Helie raised her hand hesitantly. "If it is all the same to you, Lady Syrce, I would catch up with you in a while. My rest last night left much to be desired. I need something cold to wash my face and something warm in my stomach before I will be of any use."
The Saint dipped her chin. "Of course, Aurelia. Please take care of yourself. Lyra wouldn't forgive me if I ran you ragged."
Aether and Roan seemed similarly inclined to excuse themselves.
"Flint? Are you coming, or would you like to join the others for breakfast?" Noble's pleasant smile caused her counterpart to frown.
"You'd like it if I ruined my manly physique with too much food, wouldn't you? I'll eat after I've had my morning exercises. I'm coming with you, Blondie." Flint puffed out his chest.
'He's just nosey,' Noble decided.
Not that she could fully blame him. Noble had a fear of missing out on things as well. That was why she was so interested in Maelys's early morning activities instead of recovering from her poor night of sleep.
As the group divided, Noble, Flint, and Syrce headed toward the sounds of hammers and saws. Maelys and her army were hard at work.
In the far distance, trees were being felled and hewn into two long halves.
The tops of those planks were sanded until smooth before being brought before Maelys for final approval. When the board met her expectations, it was brought to the lakeside for the ongoing construction project.
"Mae truly has a good eye for things," Syrce's voice was filled with pride.
"I thought you said you didn't have nicknames for each other." Noble had noted the discrepancy earlier.
"Mother always called Maelys 'Mae,' so it has always been her name except in formal settings. I don't consider it a special nickname like you and Titus have for each other." Syrce smiled at her two companions.
"And your mother—did she call you Ceecee?" Noble felt the Saint's mood sour.
"No, she did not. Mae only called me that for a short while during our days at court. But it bothered me so much that she stopped. I don't know why she has started again." Syrce frowned.
Noble wondered if the woman had a bad memory connected to the name or if she didn't like that sound of it. The reason didn't matter, though.
"You can tell her to stop." Noble nodded. "Your wishes should be respected."
"I will talk to her," Syrce promised. "Thank you. You are a good friend."
The comment filled Noble with warmth. "I am glad you feel that way. Actually, I have been meaning to ask you…"
"Ceecee!" Maelys looked up from her work and waved to her sister.
"I guess there is no time like the present to have that conversation. Wish me luck!" Syrce pulled away from her companions and rushed to her sister's side.
"… never mind. You tend to Lady Mae. And yeah, good luck…" Noble finished lamely. She watched Syrce and Maelys embrace and fall into an easy, natural conversation. It was good that they were so close, but Syrce would never have cut her off mid-sentence before.
What was happening?
Flint reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know what it's like to play second fiddle."
Noble stopped her violet eyes from swirling to look at her companion. "Are you about to tell me that you get used to it or that I should get over it?"
"What? No!" Flint balked. "You let that fire burn within you, Blondie. If you aren't good enough, you push yourself until you are good enough and better."
Before Noble could fully process his words, Flint shoved his fair-haired companion forward.
"Now, knock her dead, Blondie. I want to see a good cat fight!"
At that moment, the two Saints stopped speaking and turned their heads toward the loud mutterings of the surly Master.
Maelys raised an eyebrow at him.
"Tell me, Flint. Who are we knocking dead?"