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Azurium’s Dear Clara

The story that goes with this piece from Marsel-Defender back July of 2022 has an unfortunate story behind it. I had made the mistake of typing up the story directly in Submission Description box instead of a word or Google Doc on the day it was supposed to be submitted to FA. (You would be surprised how much of my writing is done on Saturday between 9:30 AM and 11 AM on Saturday when a piece of art is slated to be uploaded.)

(Pictured: The site of terrible tragedy.)

And as I was tabbed out, I had left the tab idle long enough for my browser plug-in to put it to sleep, and when it did I lost the entire first draft of the story. For that reason, I am scrambled to rewrite it in the form below. On one hand, I’m annoyed at myself for not taking due precautions to avoid this issue. On the other hand, I’m proud of myself for turning in anything at all despite the circumstances.

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In his youth, Azurium was known as a powerful warrior. Through his battle prowess and tactical intellect, he was capable of defeating both mechanized war machines and fiercesome beasts single-handedly. These deeds were rewarded with prestige from both his fellow soldiers and superiors in the Oplentian Armed Forces, eventually earning him a position of command over his own unit.

As is tradition when a new officer is named, a custom sword was commissioned for the up-and-comer. Its hilt fashioned in the form of a snake, representing the noble house that once founded the great city of Oplentis, with a further serpentine pattern etched directly into the blade. His name was etched into the crossguard’s interior, thus all would know he was the weapon’s rightful owner as he wielded it in service to his home.

Fearful of the Magistrum’s growing influence across the plane, Oplentis long since chose to educate its own citizenry rather than send them away to be indoctrinated by foreign influences. For this reason, Oplentian officers, unlike those of other nations, are brought together in the city-state’s own officer’s academy. There, Azurium met another officer like him, a white tigerkin named Clara.

What started as innocent classroom conversation turned to long nights at the bar telling each other tales of their assignments and campaigns. The two of them would fall in love, and when he offered his hand in marriage, she readily accepted. Neither one of them expected to live to old age. Rather, their plan was to live hard and die young, together in existential bliss.

But that all changed once Clara became pregnant. Both of them were content to go out in the prime of their lives, but with a child on the way that calculus no longer cleanly added up. Together, they looked into jobs that could make use of their skills and knowledge, while still remaining safe and stable enough to start a family. This is how Azurium would take up the mantle of Guard Captain of the 13th precinct of Oplentis. Settling in, they both took their officer’s swords and tucked them away, taking up the uniform blades of common guardsmen.

It is said that the best-laid plans often go awry, and that is all the more tragically true of improvised plans drafted in the haste of a nine-month pregnancy. Though Clara was set to join another precinct after her maternity leave, that was never in the cards. Due to complications arising in childbirth, she passed away. To the windowed Captain, their son Edmund represented the only remaining proof of their love and time together.

Though some deep part of his soul screamed in protest, Azurium did all he could to be a caring father to his young cub. His days were spent assigning cases and patrol routes to his subordinates, turning a blind eye to civilian complaints that crossed his desk lest he compromise his position. He even went out on missions himself when he thought he could get away with it without the chain of command collapsing. And though he trained hard to maintain his strength and skill, there was only so much anyone could do to stave off the aging process.

When he came home, he wore the mask of a father figure. Edmund may not grow up to be the warrior that his parents were, but that’s okay. The young man would forge his own path. There was an intelligence and ambition that burned in Edmund’s eyes, that even his failing body couldn’t hope to snuff out. Azurium saw it every time they played chess, every time he recounted one of his old stories.

He knew he loved his child, and he knew that his child loved him. That had to be enough to sustain them. It had to…

And it did for many years, until Volpes entered his life, making his offer. It was then that a change was visited upon the ever-complacent captain. As he looked in the mirror, putting on his guard uniform, he no longer recognized the man looking back at him. Where was the fire and ferocity that led him to victory time and again against the remnants of the Planeswalker Wars of ages past? Where was the man who would put his very life on the line to save even one soul from danger? Where was the fighter, the warrior, the soldier?

Seeing Edmund’s remarkable improvements only cemented the thoughts in his head. Earlier in the same night he left his son, the Captain would venture up into the Azurium family attic. In a corner of the room, covered with years upon years of dust, he found an old chest. Inside were the two officers’ swords that he once believed would never see use ever again. One of them, engraved with the name “Clara Azurium”, went missing that night. The other, his own name emblazoned upon the hilt, was placed back into its musty tomb, consigned back into the oblivion from whence it came.

Tempered to withstand his enhanced might, Azurium would once again throw himself into the fray with his darling “Clara” at his side. He had taken a blind eye to the corruption and perversion of his beloved city for too long. And as he looked at Master Volpes, he felt something that had been absent from his life since the day she passed. He would do anything to protect that feeling.

He would do anything for Master Volpes.