(POV: Otos Exemplar )
Otos: Age 18 | Vanitas: Age 9 | Aretia & Justitia: Age 12
I stepped out of the bathroom, drying my wet hair with a white cotton towel.
I stopped at the small wooden table next to my bed and picked up the old silver frame. In the picture, I was holding Vanitas as a baby, looking at him with pride and smiling. I ran my thumb over the glass of the frame.
(I haven't seen Vanitas much these days. Perhaps I should dedicate today to talking with him).
I went down to the first floor. In the luxurious sitting room, my mother, Superia, was sitting on the velvet sofa. She was reading some official papers with intense focus, while sipping hot tea from a gilded porcelain cup.
"Mama," I interrupted her silence as I entered. "I am looking for Vanitas, but I couldn't find him in his room. Where is he?"
She didn't lift her eyes from the papers. "He is with Lord Adrian's sons."
"Alone?" I asked in surprise.
"Yes... alone."
I raised an eyebrow. "It's strange of you that you've started letting him go out alone. Where did your heavy guard go?"
The teacup trembled in her hand. The porcelain clinked against the small saucer, making a sharp, faint ringing sound.
"You are right..." she said in a voice she tried to keep steady, taking a quick sip. "I've started taking different measures with him. Giving him his space."
I smiled, and sat on the chair opposite her. "And it seems these measures are working. Lord Adrian's sons? He has made good friends, then. Their older brother was my classmate, and I used to talk to him a lot at the Academy... Unfortunately, we lost touch because of my preoccupation with training."
I stood up enthusiastically. "Perhaps I will go myself today with the servants to pick Vanitas up from there and bring him home."
"No!"
My mother screamed suddenly. Her voice was sharp, loud, and so panicked that her hand jerked, spilling drops of hot tea onto the papers she was reading.
I froze in my place, my smile vanishing. "What is wrong with you? Why are you screaming?"
My mother blinked rapidly, her breaths coming quick as she looked at the tea stains. Then, remarkably fast, she laughed. A tense, dry, and completely forced laugh.
"Sorry... sorry," she said as she wiped the papers with a napkin, her hand trembling slightly. "It's just... Vanitas doesn't like, as you know, anyone going to drop him off or pick him up from his friends' houses. He will feel embarrassed. He is building his independence."
I looked at her evasive eyes, and at the agitated movement of her hands.
"Alright..." I said slowly, taking a step back. "You are right. Perhaps another day I will talk to him."
[Otos: Age 20 | Vanitas: Age 11 | Aretia & Justitia: Age 14]
I am tired. I just want to sleep. My muscles are groaning, and my military boots are laden with the mud of the lower city, Cloacina. A whole week of combing the stinking alleys of "Cloacina", chasing the scum of humanity for the security of the Kingdom.
Step. Step.
I dragged my exhausted body down the west corridor of the palace. Suddenly, the sound of a maid apologizing and crying broke the silence.
"Because of you I couldn't sleep!"
A sharp scream, carrying hysterical anger, tore through the quiet of the corridor. I stopped in my tracks and looked through the open door.
Vanitas, an 11-year-old child, was standing in the middle of his room, screaming in the face of the maid Mira, who was trembling like a wet sparrow.
"How is there dust on my bed?!" Vanitas screamed, pointing his finger at sheets that looked pristine white to me.
"I apologize, sir! I am sorry! I will reclean the entire bed right now!" the maid sobbed as she bowed.
At that moment, Vanitas noticed my presence at the door. His angry breaths stopped. He scanned me with a look from the top of my head down to my boots stained with Cloacina's mud.
His features did not relax; rather, they transformed in a single second into a look of absolute disgust. Disgust not at the maid, but at me. At the mud, at the sweat, at everything I represented.
He turned his face away coldly and said to the maid in a faint, frightening voice: "Just go."
The maid ran out. And before I could utter a word, Vanitas grabbed the doorknob, and shut the door in my face.
[Otos: Age 22 | Vanitas: Age 13 | Aretia & Justitia: Age 16]
"You don't understand, you idiot! What did you do?!"
Justitia's screams were tearing through the quiet of the garden. I ran toward the sound to find her standing in front of Vanitas, her face flushed with anger and tears, while he sat coldly, turning the pages of a thick book larger than his size.
"What is going on here?" I intervened immediately.
Vanitas slowly lifted his gaze from the book. "Brother. Help me here and make her understand what she wants, because I don't understand her."
Justitia turned to me, trembling with anger. "Brother, I was talking to my friend at the Academy. The next day, he came with his face severely beaten, his bones practically broken. And when I asked him what happened, he avoided looking at me, and told me: 'Talk to your brother'... and ran away!" She pointed her finger at Vanitas. "He beat him up!"
Vanitas tilted his head slightly, a mocking smile drawing on his lips. "Ah... you are talking about your secret lover? Perhaps he got into a fight in some filthy tavern that suits him."
"He is not my lover!!" Justitia screamed.
"Well, from your outburst, it seems he is your lover." He returned his gaze to the book. "Will you please leave me to finish reading my book?"
"Brother! Talk to him!" Justitia pleaded with me.
I looked at the calm, perfect Vanitas, then looked at her. "My dear Justitia," I said in a firm voice. "What does Vanitas have to do with this? Perhaps that person is a coward and wants to drag Vanitas into his problems because he's jealous of his status. He is your brother."
"No, brother! You don't know him!" she screamed with a tone of genuine despair.
"That is enough, Justitia!" I raised my voice sharply, silencing her. "I will be angry if you speak ill of your brother any further."
Justitia looked at me in shock, as if I had stabbed her. Her eyes filled with tears.
"Idiot," she whispered through her teeth, and turned to run away.
[Otos: Age 23 | Vanitas: Age 14 | Aretia & Justitia: Age 17]
I stood before his massive wooden desk.
"You haven't taken a vacation in a long time," said my father, Motus, looking at the papers in front of him. "Why now of all times?"
I smiled with discipline. "An excellent knight is a knight who balances his personal life and his work, Father."
My father looked up at me. He smiled a strange, pale smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You are right."
I looked at him at length. His face was tired. Lines of exhaustion were carved around his eyes in a way I had never seen before, not even during the harshest working times and Kingdom crises.
"Father... are you alright?" I asked with genuine concern.
He lowered his eyes to the papers again. "Yes, I am fine. Just a little tired."
"You must take some rest. Your body cannot bear all this continuous pressure."
"Yes, yes... I will."
I took a step closer and placed both hands on the edge of the desk. "I am serious about what I say, Father. Promise me."
He lifted his head slowly. He looked into my eyes for a second that felt heavy, then sighed. "I promise."
"Promise," I repeated, and left the office feeling like I had left behind a man carrying an invisible mountain.
[Palace Corridors - Afternoon of the Vacation]
"Why is the palace so silent on my only day off?" I grumbled to myself as I walked through the wide corridors.
I entered the sitting room. It was completely empty, except for one maid silently wiping the wooden furniture.
"You," I called out to her.
The maid flinched and her body trembled exaggeratedly. She turned around quickly, her eyes wide. "W-What is it, Young Master?"
I furrowed my brows. "Where is my mother?"
"The Madam... s-she went to visit one of her friends," the maid stuttered, gripping the cloth tightly.
"Ah, alright."
(Why is she so nervous? As if I'm going to hit her). I waved my hand for her to continue her work.
I went up to the second floor.
Knock! Knock!
"Aretia... are you here?"
I opened the door slowly. The room inside looked dark, the curtains fully drawn, and the smell of chemicals and burnt herbs hit my face like a slap.
"Cough... cough..." I coughed from the density of the smell. "What is it, sister? Why don't you just work in the laboratory? Why do you bring these materials to your room?"
"In my room... it's easier," she replied briefly, without turning around.
"Alright... what do you say you and I and your sister go out today? It's my rare day off."
She looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes carrying exhaustion. "Sorry, brother. I am busy."
"Alright, never mind."
I closed the door immediately and looked at the next room.
(Alright, then it's just me and my little sister).
I went and knocked on Justitia's door. Knock!
One minute. Two minutes. Three. No answer.
A maid hurried past in the corridor, looking at the floor.
"You," I stopped her. "Is Justitia inside?"
The maid looked at the door, then at the floor. "I don't know, Young Master... but I am certain she hasn't left the palace."
"Is she asleep?"
"I don't know."
I exhaled in annoyance. "Alright, what about Vanitas? Where is he?"
The moment she heard the name "Vanitas", the maid's body shrank as if a poisonous insect had bitten her. She trembled visibly, and said with extreme nervousness, her eyes evading mine:
"Young Master... I-I don't know!"
And she ran away in obvious fear, leaving me bewildered.
(Alright, then it's time to find our youngest myself).
[Main Gate - The Encounter]
I went down to the outer gate. And there, I found Vanitas. He was wearing a light coat, about to go out.
"Vanitas!" I called out to him.
He stopped. "There you are."
He turned and looked at me with a gaze completely devoid of genuine interest. "Brother. What do you want?"
"Where are you going?"
"To my friends," he said smoothly. "Why do you ask?"
"Today is my day off. So I was wondering... how about we go out together today? But, since you have an appointment..."
Vanitas replied with surprising quickness, and in a comfortable tone: "I can cancel. No problem. But, where do you want to go?"
I sighed, and rubbed the back of my head. "Honestly, I haven't thought about that."
Vanitas tilted his head, and smiled a faint smile. "I recently turned fourteen... a tavern?"
I laughed loudly. "A tavern, then! I know a good, quiet one."
[Inside the Tavern - Hours Later]
"Since when, Vanitas... are you this good at drinking?"
I was swaying. My vision was slightly blurred, and the sounds in the tavern were overlapping. I extended my heavy hand and touched his shoulder.
"We've drunk ten large cups!" I slurred my words. "How are you still... not drunk?"
Vanitas laughed. A quiet, completely clear laugh. He was sitting in front of me, his back straight, his cup half full, and his eyes carrying not a single atom of drunkenness.
"It seems I am naturally gifted," Vanitas said, taking an elegant sip.
I pointed a trembling finger at him. "You... you shouldn't become any more handsome than this when you grow up."
Vanitas laughed again. "Why?"
I leaned my heavy back against the wooden chair. "The best dancer in the Kingdom... drinking and a natural gift as you say... a noble face. What more could women want than this?"
He tilted his cup and smiled. "And what about you, brother?"
I lightly tapped my head with my hand, laughing mockingly at myself. "Me? Do I even have time to sit down? Even to talk to women of our class? All my time is in Cloacina."
I laughed harder, leaning over the table.
"I only have time to talk to the women of Cloacina."
Vanitas laughed a lot this time. "What is wrong with them? Are they that ugly?"
I looked left and right as if I was revealing a dangerous secret. "You didn't hear this story from me..." I whispered to him with a drunkard's smile. "One of the knights who went down on patrol with me there, he really wanted to do it... to empty his energy. So, he saw an acceptable one in the alleys. He gave her one silver coin. Because of that silver coin... a whole day! The woman refused to stop! The man ran away from her like someone who had seen a monster!"
I slammed the table with my hand, laughing hard. "I tell you, the women of Cloacina are crazy! They don't stop! I never go near them."
Vanitas drank his cup in one go, and placed the glass quietly on the table. The smile vanished from his eyes, though it remained drawn on his lips.
"Haven't you ever wondered, brother..." he said in a deep, composed voice, "about the injustice that happens in that city?"
I looked at Vanitas. The alcohol made my thinking heavy, but as Knight Otos, I had an answer.
"Of course." I straightened my posture and tried to regain my dignity. "I am a knight, Vanitas. That trash... the endless criminals... the whores that fill the alleys... Most of the Kingdom's non-noble population lives there. The only ones are the servants who escaped that city and reached the top."
I clenched my fist. "Because of this 'injustice', my job exists. I will keep cleaning up the criminals there... and I will keep killing their scum... until that city becomes a normal, safe city."
Vanitas reached his hand across the table. He touched my shoulder lightly. He looked into my life-filled eyes, and smiled a gentle, pale smile.
"Yes, brother," Vanitas whispered in a supportive tone. "You can do it."
The Imperial Register of the Orbits: A Study in Material Customs and Urban Stratification of the Capital, Stasis
(Preserved in the Central Archival Bureau — Volume IV, Spatial Decrees Division)
Appendix I: Coming-of-Age Customs and Alcohol Consumption
This section outlines the social conventions governing the consumption of intoxicants within society:
Fourteen Years of Age (Threshold of Social Autonomy): Established custom designates the age of 14 as the threshold at which an individual is permitted to enter public taverns unaccompanied, to sit, and to order spirits as a mature, independent individual.
Domestic Consumption (Under 14): Most households—particularly within the nobility—permit their children to taste and consume measured portions within manor grounds during private family banquets and formal occasions under parental supervision.
Nature of the Restriction (Social Custom): Imperial statutes contain no formal laws criminalizing the sale of intoxicants to those under 14 in taverns; however, social custom exercises absolute authority. An unaccompanied youth drinking in a public tavern prior to this age is regarded as a disgraceful breach that tarnishes their family's dignity and public standing.
Appendix II: Geographical Topography of the Capital, Stasis
The capital, Stasis, lies at the heart of the "Mountains of Silence," partitioned across a vertical geographic and structural gradient extending from the sovereign peaks to the lowest descents:
Apex Peak (Northern High Peaks of the Mountains of Silence): The highest geographic elevation overlooking the capital and the mountain edges. It constitutes the sovereign territory of the Observers, housing their independent headquarters and private academy.
The High Orbits District (The Elevated Central Plateau): Situated in the center of the capital directly beneath Apex Peak—a vast expanse occupied by noble manors and the seat of sovereign governance.
"The City" (The Mid-Slopes beneath the High Orbits): Extends along the immediate perimeter beneath the High Orbits, referred to by the nobility simply as "The City." Inhabited by commoners and supported by comprehensive services, its residents hold the status of "Honorable Commoners." Their paramount privilege is the right to "Another Life" (a single opportunity to return from death) under imperial patronage, unlike the nobility who possess three or more chances of return.
The Vitalis Domain (External Expanse beyond the Mountains of Silence): Lowland plains lying entirely beyond the perimeter of the Mountains of Silence, inhabited by outcasts and peripheral commoners. Wholly deprived of imperial patronage and denied the right to "Another Life," they possess zero chances of return—their existence ending in absolute oblivion upon their first death.
The Lower City: Cloacina (The Lower Slopes and Sunken Fringes): Situated at the lowest elevations of the capital along the deep mountain crevices. While administratively recognized as part of Stasis, it remains submerged in filth and unrest, infested with base cutthroats, criminals, and predatory beasts.
Appendix III: Hierarchical Stratification of the Commoner Class
The strata of commoners within the capital are ordered by a rigorous hierarchy, governed by the absolute supremacy of noble bloodlines:
Servants of Apex Peak: The highest and most privileged stratum among all commoners; they command distinct deference and an enigmatic status. The Observers strictly prohibit anyone from questioning or investigating the nature of the rewards or privileges they receive behind closed walls.
Manor Servants of the High Orbits: An elevated commoner class residing within the wings of the noble estates they serve, enjoying the direct protection and patronage of their masters.
Residents of The City: Honorable commoners—artisans, tradesmen, and service providers residing in the perimeter directly beneath the High Orbits.
The Principle of Noble Sovereignty: An inviolable tenet establishing that the nobility permanently retains absolute supremacy. No commoner—regardless of the magnitude of their granted rewards or the height of their station (even the servants of Apex Peak)—may ever equal or surpass the status of a noble.
Appendix IV: Decree of the Cloacina Battalion and the Perpetual Duty
The archives document the ongoing military operations in the Lower City:
Field Mandate of the Battalion: The knight detachment assigned to Cloacina descends daily into those sunken slums to wage fierce, relentless combat against syndicates and beasts, driven by the noble mandate to enforce order and cleanse the territory until it matches the standard of the Upper City.
The Nature of the Ongoing Struggle: The knights bleed and offer daily sacrifices in those choked alleys; yet despite the battalion's elite capability and military strength, Cloacina remains entrenched in chaos and crime, as if daily warfare is insufficient to eradicate its roots. The enduring existence of this quagmire on the capital's fringes remains deeply enigmatic and perpetually unresolved across generations.