Arcturus stepped out of the changing room with some level of anxiousness, feeling more self-conscious than he ever had before. When Maurice had come to him with the clothes, carefully wrapped in veiling silk, and told him to wear them without first showing Tylariel, Sumeko, or Jess he’d been nervous.

When he’d actually seen what his clearly eccentric relative had brought him, that nervousness had erupted into full-blown dread at what they would think.

Arcturus took a steadying breath and lowered his eyes from the ceiling to look at his companions. “So, what do you think?”

Sumeko and Jess stared at him in what appeared to be stunned silence, standing mutely on either side of Tylariel who — for the first time in Arcturus’ memory — had nothing to say.

“I knew I was making something special when I tailored those clothes, my boy, but now I can say for certain they may very well have been my masterpiece.”

Arcturus turned to Maurice as his grand-uncle slid into view next to Sumeko, the clothier’s piercing blue eyes observing Arcturus with an artist’s approval.

“I want to say you look amazing, Arcturus, but I… The words just don’t seem like enough.” Jess said in a quiet voice. “I knew the right clothes could make a difference, but this is… I feel like I need to genuflect and ask forgiveness. For what crime, I couldn’t say.”

“I want to jump you and run away from you in equal measure.” Sumeko said more bluntly, her cheeks visibly reddened. “It’s a bewildering combination of emotions, and I couldn’t tell you why I feel that way.”

That took him by surprise, and Arcturus gave her a stunned look before he turned first to Maurice — who winked — and then to Tylariel.

For her part his mentor had a look of contemplation on her aristocratic features, its intensity matched only by the near-palpable pressure of her gaze as she investigated every inch of his new attire with her golden eyes.

“Have you looked at yourself, yet?” The Archon eventually asked.

“No.” Arcturus answered honestly.

“Maurice?” Tylariel asked while turning to the man.

As if waiting for the request, the shopkeeper pulled a half-body mirror from seemingly nowhere and held it up for Arcturus to look at himself.

What he saw shocked him.

In place of himself, there stood a Prince among men. His unruly onyx and platinum hair had taken on a wild-but-elegant style on his head, falling in just such a way as to allow the strands to perfectly catch the aetherlights within the shop. His face appeared somehow more elegantly cut, with a clearer definition to his cheekbones and a stronger cut to his jawline. Where before his crimson eyes had been filled with uncertainty, now they looked regal and imposing — seemingly carrying the authority of a nation within their depths.

The beginnings of his folded collar, the same ruby colour as his eyes, were partially lost beneath the silky material of his black coat, unbuttoned to reveal the identical vest buttoned from belly to chest over a black tie with silver filigree that sat prominently against the eye-catching red of his shirt.

His coat itself extended down with two tails to his calves at the back, and had a thickness and firmness to it that spoke of deceptively strong materials. It was layered and elegant at the same time, with carefully stitched patterns of silver inlay that caught the line only when he moved at the right angles.

His belt, clasped with a silver buckle, held up a pair matching pants that fell easily over his newly provided boots.

A pair of black leather gloves completed the outfit, finishing it off in a way that made the rest seem complete.

Okay, yeah, credit where it’s due: These clothes are something else.

“Woah.” Arcturus said in a quiet voice, unsure of what else to offer beyond the single exclamation.

“I approve.” Tylariel said matter-of-factly. “That will be what he wears to the Masquerade. I take it the clothing is more than just well-crafted?”

“I should have known you’d not be so easily fooled, my dear.” Maurice said with a sly smile. “Yes, it is enchanted. All our young prince needs to do is take a shower prior to wearing it, and the clothes will do the rest.”

Intrigued by those words, Arcturus cast [Inspect] on himself using the mirror.

Thankfully, it worked.

INFORMATION PANEL

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME Vestments of the Prodigal Heir SLOT(S) Chest (Multiple), Arms (Multiple), Hands, Legs, Feet (Multiple) TYPE(S) Enchanted RARITY Epic CLASSIFICATION(S) Attire (Clothing) STATISTIC(S) +8 to Charisma, +3 to Agility MODIFICATION(S)

Maurice’s Legacy (Aetherweave Infusion): These vestments were hand-crafted with love and attention by the Mythic-ranked Aetherweave Tailor Maurice. When worn by the right person, they will bring out the deepest and most profound truth of their wearer’s disposition and inner beauty.

+8 to Charisma

Insulation (Enchantment): These vestments will protect the wearer from all but the most extreme cases of heat and cold, modulating their body temperature and ensuring they are neither too hot nor too cold regardless of climate or exertion. They are a perfect choice for formal occasions.

Drachensilk Material (Crafting Reagent): These vestments were made from rare and powerful Drachensilk, harvested from the nightmare creatures of the Blighted Lands. Flexible and durable in equal measure, these vestments will allow a full and unimpeded range of movement, while also being capable of absorbing damage from most conventional melee and ranged weapons.

+3 to Agility

DESCRIPTION A set of unique, breathtaking clothing designed and crafted by Maurice for an unknown future patron. They are infused with his magic in every thread. SOULBOND(S) Arcturus Regis Valoura DURABILITY 777 / 777

“I…” Arcturus struggled to articulate how he felt as he looked over the information of the clothes and absorbed exactly how he appeared in them, turning to look once again at his audience.

“You look like a hero prince, Arcturus.” Jess said encouragingly. “You really do. Like one straight out of a fable.”

“You’re going to have to fight off the highborn ladies with your aetherblade.” Sumeko said with a very nearly predatory smile. “Maybe some lowborn ones, as well, if they muster the courage.”

And the men. You’re pretty enough to catch their eyes too, loverboy.

“Oh, I wager they will.” Tylariel said with a knowing smile.

Arcturus noted approval in his mentor’s eyes as he turned to her, and that more than anything relaxed any lingering doubts he had. He looked down at his gloved hands for a moment, and then slid them into the pockets of his trousers. When he looked at the mirror the effect was immediate; as if he’d clicked the final piece into place. A casually powerful young monarch looked back at him, with a smile that promised safety for his allies — and grave consequences for his enemies.

It was bewildering that he could get all of that from a smile.

“Take a walk in them, my boy. See how they feel.” Maurice said as he put down the mirror, motioning towards the front of the store with a jingle of his golden bracelets.

Arcturus nodded to the instruction and set off for the front of the store with experimental movements, marvelling at how easy the clothes and boots were to walk in. He had absolutely no resistance to any of the movements he made, and even when he shrugged his shoulders or wiggled his leg oddly between steps there was no resistance. The material seemed to morph itself around his movements, expanding or contracting as required, before returning to its original shape and density. It was incredible.

Perception Check unsuccessful!

So enraptured was Arcturus in his amazement at the clothes that he didn’t notice the doors opening until a quartet of voices filled the store.

“... had to go and piss her off, didn’t you Andy?”

“Dude it wasn’t my fault. I was just telling the truth. She was being way too sensitive.”

“You blasphemed her god!” A female voice scolded. “How do you not see what’s wrong with that?”

“The ignorance of Nephilim rears its head again.” Another female voice agreed.

“Don’t lump me in with him.” The first male voice said resolutely.

“Or me!” The original female agreed.

Alarmed by the sudden appearance of other people, he came to a halt with his hands in his pockets and directed a look of instinctive annoyance at being surprised so easily. His HUD hadn’t even alerted him of anyone approaching, though in fairness he wasn’t sure that was even a real functionality.

The entering group similarly froze when they saw him and, upon seeing them properly, Arcturus felt a mix of shock, hope, and relief mixed in with stunned disbelief.

Andy, Adam, and Danica were standing in front of him almost exactly as he remembered them, except for the fact that all of them were clothed in the adventurer attire he’d come to associate with people like Jakob, Jess, Sumeko and others like them in the city: A mix of victorian fashion and futuristic looking armour and accessories that blended into a strangely satisfying hybrid of fantasy and science fiction.

Well shit boyo, not even I expected this.

Joining the trio was a purple-haired woman with eyes like white ice, and it was her who reacted first: She squeaked, of all things, before abruptly dropping down to one knee in instinctive supplication. “Forgive us, Archon! We did not mean to intrude upon your shopping!”

Arcturus was broken from his state of frozen shock at her actions, and he turned to her with a look of bewilderment. “What? I’m not an Archon. Er, not yet?” He looked back at the still-frozen tableau of his friends and then back to whom he assumed was a native Terran. “Please stand. I’d rather not make a scene.”

“Arcturus—?” Danica started before being cut off.

“Your eyes are far too good for your own well-being, child.” Tylariel interjected coldly, drawing everyone’s attention as she stepped up beside Arcturus. Despite being very nearly a full head shorter than him, his mentor was in full ‘Archon’ presentation. Judging from the sudden looks of fear on his friends’ faces, they’d been around more than long enough to not only be able to recognise her aura, but to understand that it was very bad she was projecting it.

“L-L-Lady Arch-ch-chon!” The purple-haired woman stammered as she dropped instantly back to her knee after being halfway to standing. “P-please f-forgive—!”

“Oh, I think we’re past all that.” Tylariel said with a clear threat to her tone.

Protective instinct erupted in Arcturus like a maelstrom and brought with it the memories of his failure: His failure to stop the assassins who’d killed him; his failure to return to Earth to save his friends; his failure to convince Order to do it Himself… It compounded and built like a sudden and unexpected deluge of emotion, until he could no longer contain the eruption of obligation that raged within him.

They were here. In front of him. His friends. His family.

How could he call himself a Valoura, if he couldn’t even protect those closest to him?

“Tylariel, stop.” Arcturus said with a voice that barely sounded like his own, rounding on his mentor with a feeling of heat roaring through his veins.

“Apprentice, you—”

“By the authority of my Blood I command you to stand down, Tylariel Rubastra!” The words left Arcturus’ mouth before he knew he was saying them, and the force of the command behind them stunned him after he was done.

Charisma Check successful!

“As you command, Your Highness.”

Tylariel’s eyes widened after the words left her lips as if compelled.

You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you Arcturus?

A new blazing notification glared at him on his HUD abruptly after his words, but Arcturus dismissed it without reading it as Tylariel’s aura retracted. The surprise on her features was mirrored on his friends’ faces, all of whom were now staring at him in greater shock. Strangest of all was the sudden exhaustion that nipped at the edges of his awareness, and the keen absence of the power that had only a moment ago burned in his veins.

“I think, perhaps, that this situation calls for everyone to take a moment and gather themselves.” Maurice interjected suddenly, appearing between but slightly away from both the new arrivals and Arcturus’ party. “I will close the store temporarily. I am acquainted with these four adventurers, and it appears that perhaps our young Prince is as well — at least, with his fellow Nephilim.”

Arcturus stepped forwards as Maurice spoke, barely hearing his grand-uncle as he stared once more at Adam, Andy, and Danica. His eyes searched them and spotted the subtle changes they’d undergone from their transition to Terra, including a clear difference in the cut of their features and even the way they stood. His heightened Intellect and Perception gave him a very good frame of reference for the changes, and allowed him to pull up comparisons from memory alone.

“Are… Are you guys okay?” He asked when nothing else came to mind.

His answer was Danica rushing forwards and slamming into him with a hug that very nearly crushed his bones, a mix between a laugh and a sob filling the air as he threw herself at him. Arcturus reacted by instinct and wrapped his arms around the shorter — but not as short, he realised — woman immediately. Something primal bubbled up inside of him, and he felt warmth on his cheeks before he realised he’d started crying.

Adam and Andy hesitated only a few moments before they joined Danica, and the four of them embraced for the first time since their lives on Earth had ended.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into the group embrace as they clung to each other. “I tried to come back, but He wouldn’t let me…”

“We know.” Adam said roughly as he stepped back and surreptitiously wiped his eyes. “He told us you’d done something reckless. Said you… Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. We thought you were dead. As in dead with a capital ‘D’.”

“Where the fuck have you been anyway, idiot?” Andy asked from his other side as he tried to assert a state of calm in spite of his reddened eyes. “We’ve been wandering around Terra for like a year and a bit, and you’ve been what, partying it up with Nobles?”

“Wait. A year?” Arcturus asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Danica sniffled as she stepped back, though she didn’t fully let go of his jacket as if subtly scared he’d go somewhere. “Almost two, actually. All of us are above level 20, too. We’ve been hitting dungeons like crazy with our party.”

“Dungeons? Party? What the hell?”

Arcturus rounded on Tylariel who was watching him with a mix of anger, confusion, and mild trepidation of all things. “Mentor, why didn’t anyone tell me about Dungeons or a Party system?”

“It wasn’t relevant to your immediate concerns.” She said without a hint of shame. “It still isn’t. What we need to do is focus on growing your strength in preparation for the Masquerade. We cannot afford for you to be as weak as you are when it comes time to confront…” She glanced at his friends analytically. “...our enemies.”

“You don’t need to… That is, these people are my friends from my source-shard, Mentor. They were all welcomed into my home by my Father.”

Intellect Check successful!

“They’re my allies, Mentor. My family, in as much of a capacity as anyone unrelated could be. Can’t I claim them as part of my Court or something?”

A notification popped up on his HUD when he finished his question and, based on the way Adam, Andy, and Danica all paused and stared into space: they’d received one as well. Curious, Arcturus read the new notification immediately.

HIDDEN QUEST

QUEST NAME The Uncrowned King DIFFICULTY Epic STATUS On-Going

DESCRIPTION

You have arrived on the Source bereft of your birthright or access to the resources that your bloodline should have granted you. Another stands to inherit all that should have been yours by right of birth and status, and you are very nearly powerless to stop him.

The only way to truly stand toe-to-toe with the schemers and nobles of the Empire is to have those in your corner who you can trust absolutely. A leader is only as strong as the nation that supports them, after all.

CURRENT OBJECTIVE Recruit 10 Oathsworn PROGRESS 0 / 10 Oathsworn Recruited

“Apprentice?” Tylariel asked sharply. “What happened? All of you suddenly went silent and two of your… companions… started muttering as if they were reading. Is this some Nephilim magic?”

“Uh, sort of?” Arcturus answered warily. “I’m not really sure how to explain it, but I think I accidentally triggered something and Order is laughing His ass off in the Highest.”

Everyone had different reactions to what Arcturus belatedly realised was blasphemy. Jess and Sumeko seemed to act as if he hadn’t said anything while discretely edging away from him; Maurice’s smile turned wry; Tylariel narrowed her eyes in a way that promised punishment, and the Terran with his friends made a strange symbol with her hand and murmured a prayer to the ceiling - though Arcturus suspected it was more for the sky beyond it and the deity she assumed to be ‘up there’.

“The store is closed.” Maurice interjected with a soothingly calm voice. “Perhaps we should all retire upstairs so that you may speak uninterrupted?”

“I think that would be wise.” Tylariel said after a moment of more consideration. “Thank you for being so understanding, Maurice.”

“Of course, Lady Archon. The boy is family, after all.”

Maurice ignored the looks of surprise from Adam, Andy, Danica, and their companion as he dropped that particular bombshell.

“You guys wanna…?” Arcturus gestured lamely towards Maurice, and his friends nodded almost in unison.

“Ah, shall I see myself out?”

Arcturus turned to the purple-haired woman who was watching them all with trepidation, and put on his most reassuring smile. “Any friend of theirs is a friend of mine, milady.”

Milady? Talk about layering it on thick.

Despite the snide commentary from his subconscious, his words seemed to be exactly what were needed, and the bronze-skinned Terran blushed visibly as she ducked her head in appreciation. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Oh god.” Andy groaned from beside him.

“This is a thing now, isn’t it?” Adam asked in resignation.

“I told you both that I was right! None of you believed me, but I was right!”

Arcturus looked at them all with a smile, until realisation struck him. “Wait, what happened to Amélie and Alanna?”

His three friends and their companion all exchanged glances before Danica answered him. “We should really sit down and talk, Arc.”

“Yeah, lead the way Maurice.” Adam agreed, looking to the clothier.

“But of course.” The clothier agreed. A glance was given to Tylariel, and only when she assented with a shallow nod did he set off along one of the pathways through the store. “If you’ll all follow me…”

As the group followed, Arcturus glanced through his HUD to his other blinking notifications and let them reveal themselves.

What he saw was not what he expected.