Holiday Special: Santa Claws? (Pt. 1)

A thought came to Ber one eventful evening.

She found herself in a party held within a luxurious hall that kings of even the largest empires of Emvita would envy. Queen Gerina, the rightful ruler of the Bellum Empire, held a gathering to celebrate the grand opening of another Hyperlink Relay Site, among their reconstruction milestones.

The Bellum Empire was the last legitimate monarchy left standing across the entirety of Grandis. With Purtias gone, and the northern Kingdom of Diavola destroyed, one would imagine that this party would not have many guests.

However, the Bellum Empire was an ally of the Nexus. Furthermore, Queen Gerina knew the Head herself by name. Legends of Gerina and the Head were adapted into a thousand different books that became highly popular among the citizens. But none could compare to the original tale which detailed Gerina’s fated encounter with the Head when she was faced with a Knightmare.

As a result, many esteemed guests, and envoys of kingdoms from as far as Emvita attended the gathering. But they were not merely here for Gerina. If they were, then there would not have been seven hundred people in attendance.

No. They were here to see a Moon in the flesh. And not just any Moon.

The Claw of the Head, one of the Three Heads of Security.

Ber softly sighed.

Suddenly, and without warning as she observed the many attendees of the party, she scoffed at the air, startling a nearby group of young girls. They had been inching towards Ber since the start of the party, hoping to get a closer look at her.

The group was suddenly interested in the fruits of a nearby banquet table. If one could see their legs beneath the ball dresses they wore, then they would notice them quivering.

What could they possibly have done to offend her? One of the esteemed guests, who observed from a raised balcony, thought to themselves. Was the food not up to par? Did she dislike the disproportionate ratio of humans to Demi-humans?

It was neither of those.

It’s disgusting. Where’s the inspiration? Haven’t we provided our allies with Quality VI Cloth? It should be the minimum. Hah. I’m sure Frost wouldn’t mind them using it for dresses. Precious treasures should be used rather than sealed away. Besides, it’s not like Quality VI Cloth is hard to manufacture.

They were uncivilized compared to Ber. Linen cloth? Frilly skirts? What’s that? Fabric made from flax? Cotton? Are those linen socks? And isn’t that a retainer from another allied Kingdom in Emvita? The Region known for its illustrious colors?

Have the people of the Bellum Empire ever been expose to… stop, Ber. Hold on a second. Only the filthy rich could concern themselves about the material of their clothes. Wait, no Ber. You’re onto something. How many thousands of civilians lived in luxury before Gerina’s reign? Of the Kingdoms of Grandis, the Bellum Empire should have the best fashion sense.

Ber brushed her hand along her hair. The black strands and the intricate gemstones woven into her hair created a tapestry of the night sky. Faint sounds of awe slipped the lips of the partygoers. Several men had to be either slapped or pulled away by their wives for staring too long.

“No suitors would dare to ask for your hand for a dance.” A golden-haired woman – Perla – laughed as she sipped from an inexpensive mug.

“Hah…”

“You’ve been sighing every time you look at me. You’re the one who chose this outfit. So it doesn’t suit me after all?”

“Perla. Are you a princess or a lady?”

It wasn’t like Ber to vent her frustrations so openly. At least not in front of Perla. Curious, Perla scratched her head with the rim of her mug. Her golden hair, which was tied into a beautiful ponytail, twirled around her head like a ribbon.

“Both?”

Ber’s eyes raked over Perla’s apparel. What she adorned was similar to what Ber had put on. A blazer, with an elegant skirt, paired with the finest buttoned shirt, a tie, and tasteful jewelry. Hidden within Ber’s hair was an onyx hairclip.

Neither of them matched the dress code. In Ber’s mind, they had exceeded it – no, they were the standard. Still, this did not explain why she was irritated by Perla.

“And is the Chlam Empire experiencing any financial instability?”

“Far from it. We’ve become financially stable since the alliance. The value of gold coins has surged quite a bit. It tends to happen when you uproot Syndicates abusing the Midas Conversion Procedure.”

Ber stared at Perla’s mug with covert contempt. The cheap porcelain, pared with the splintered wood around the rims had left Perla’s lips slightly cracked. A soft click came from Ber’s side. She flicked her wrist, and the glint of a shiny object caught Perla’s attention.

Before she knew it–

“Do you need a new cup?”

–Lip gloss was being applied to her lips.

“If it works, then why replace it? By that logic, wouldn’t we all be better off using augments or prosthetics?”

“What if this, what if that.” Ber parroted one of Cer’s lines. “You’re a lady. You should take pride in how you present yourself. A dirty mug doesn’t suit you. Aesthetic-wise, it lacks color. A smaller mug, or a wine glass would work better.”

Perla wore a wry smile and held the mug close to her chest defensively.

“A wine glass isn’t going to survive on the road. You’re forgetting about durability.”

“I’ll ask Inflow Direct to manufacture one.”

“You can do that…? Sorry, excuse me for a second. I’d rather you didn’t. It’s fine, honestly. I get what you’re saying Ber. I appreciate it. But, as the Warrior Princess of the Chlam Empire, my duty lies squarely in battle. I’m utilitarian kind of person.”

Ber softly smiled, brushing her tail against Perla’s face in a teasing manner.

“If you were solely utilitarian, then you wouldn’t be an ally of the Nexus. Nor my friend.”

“… Friend.” The word felt foreign on Perla’s lips, for a reason that Ber innately understood.

After all, Perla was a woman who had never experienced what it was like to be a ‘girl’ during her younger years. The same with Ber. Even when they became women, they only knew how to fight.

If one asked Perla to cook, she’d make an unseasoned spit roast of a wild animal. Minimalistic, and designed for nothing more than nutrition and satiation because it was the only way she knew how to cook.

“Friend, hm. The Princess in me wants to refute it. Out of everyone here, and everyone you know, why’d you ask me to come with you?”

Indeed. Ber could have asked her sisters, Frost, or Ignis to accompany her for this occasion. Perla was already invited by Gerina, but Ber had personally sent a request for her to attend as well. She didn’t exactly have a reason for it. Nor did Perla do anything special, other than be present with her when she first encountered the handless Bers.

A mischievous smile formed on Ber’s face. It was a glimpse of her old Ber who nodded along with Cer’s antics. Perla knew right away what this smile meant, and she playfully flicked her hair aside.

“Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“Truth is, I don’t know myself. I’m always experiencing new things in my life ever since I escaped my past. Maybe if I grew up normally, then I’d know why.”

“A common story people will tell you no matter where you go.”

* * *

Perla walked away to fetch some more wine.

Ber clasped her chest. It felt like a bird was thrashing against her rib cage. She didn’t quite understand this sensation. Nor did she know why her ears felt hot. She glanced into a mirror and found that nothing about her had changed, except for the faintest red blush along her neck.

What’s wrong with me? Excuse me, Nav. Can I get checked up?

“I don’t detect anything wrong. Carry on.”

Hah? Has Frost felt this pain in her chest before? I never grew up experiencing this. What is going on?

“Beats me. *Crunch* *Chew*”

Are you… eating candy?

“*Chew* Pop *Munch* Corn.”

She did not know. But to ease this pain in her chest, which formed from both the absence and proximity of Perla, she sought to bring order into the world of fashion. She deeply inhaled, memorized the faces of these people, and she gave Nav a mental order.

Send in a few of the Aspiring Moons to follow influential people from this party home.

“… With due respect, Ber. And I truly mean this. As a machine, and as your friend, may I ask what for?”

Isn’t there an event called Christmas or something? The thing Frost did the other time?

“What does this have to do with stalking the attendees home?”

Simple. We give them proper clothes. Tailored clothes, woven by the Weavers. When you think of royalty, luxury… femininity, the first thing that must come to mind is presentation. We eat with our eyes.

“I’ve yet to see someone eat with their eyes, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Hm. I knew you were a friend. Should I leave it up to you?

“Please do. I’ll have it arranged.”

* * *

That night, three hundred homes of highly influential figures were broken into. The reports were quiet at first. Nothing major, since not many were aware of the intrusion. Most found a neatly wrapped gift box containing clothing made from Quality VI Cloth.

But not all were so lucky.

The very next day, Ber began her day by purchasing a bagel and an expensive double whipped chocolate iced, triple cream, mega biscuit caramel coffee from her favorite specialty store. The Common Hub had been rapidly expanding their culinary ventures, and the infamous ‘stacked coffee’ became a new staple.

Although, these often came with warnings about blood sugar spikes, and the fact that they contain well over three thousand calories, especially for ones as stacked as Ber’s. To mitigate this, Ber asked for zero-sugar syrup made from pseudohoney.

A healthy breakfast. Besides, diseases such as the dreaded Type 2 Diabetes that Frost touted to the Healers and Hora Therapeutics to spread awareness of wasn’t going to hurt a Moon.

Just as she left the door of the establishment–

*Ka-chank*

“Ahem. Walk with me quietly.”

–A Black Wing placed a paper bag against her hip. Inside of the bag was a cold, metal object. A handheld gun, no doubt.

“You have no right to refuse. Stay silent. The Head has summoned you.”

“Frost did?” Ber’s tail happily wagged, which then suddenly froze as the Black Wing nonchalantly uttered:

“I have a warrant for your summons, and an arrest if you refuse.”

“W-What did I do?”

“Lil’ Momma wants to talk.”

Another Black Wing appeared from around the corner. She was a tall lady, with proportions rivalling Ber. Judging from the five golden feathers along her coat, she was a high-ranking Black Wing.

A cigar hovered just a few centimeters away from her mouth, as if locked in space. It followed her as she moved her head, and when her lips pursed, it slipped into her mouth where she drew a long drag.

“Pwaaaaaaah. So. Yer the big dog. Lil’ Momma was mad when she heard the news. Let’s go. Cute, ain’t she? She’s a new one, that one there.”

“Two months so far.” The younger Black Wing saluted.

“Ain’t they innovative? Ain’t no one knows the meanin’ of a paper bag, ‘sides us. Yer got good idea. New type of firearm. Won’t hurt ya. But it’ll sting. Would be quite the site to not see a person turn into red mist.”

“Can I finish this?” Ber didn’t pay much attention to them at all.

She was mostly concerned about her drink.

“Ya. Go ahead. Lil’ Soldier. Head in. Order me my regular.”

“Yes ma’am. Black apple triple double strawberry quad dripped rosewater double iced whipped coffee?”

“Black apple double

triple

strawberry quad dripped rosewater double iced whipped coffee. Make sure they use the circular ice. Ain’t like the way cubes clink in my drink.

Stirred.

Not shaken. If it’s shaken, I send it back.”

“Right away.”

In the Nexus’ hierarchy, Black Wings were slightly under the Three Heads of Security.

However, this depended on the context. When it came to enforcing laws, they were far above the Three Heads of Security. The purpose of the Black Wings were to serve as an extension of the Head herself, whereas the Three Heads of Security were more or less guardians of the Nexus, and the Head.

To put it simply, the Black Wings had the authority to arrest all members of the Nexus, including Beholders. Of course, a Beholder and a Moon could easily overpower a Black Wing. But doing so would invoke Frost’s wrath.

“Was Frost pissed? She looked happy when we spoke this morning.”

“Didn’t hear why, but ya. Lil’ Momma’s out for blood. Got your conspirer there too. Nav, was her name, ain’t it?”

“… She was kidnapped too?”

“The way I see it, yer don’t fully understand yer position. I think Lil’ Momma has been too soft on us brats. Gotta learn that discipline is a form of love too. Anyway. No point in me escortin’ you there. She’s waitin’ on the Floor of the Head. Time Reverberation.”

Why didn’t you tell me Nav?

“… I cannot compute. Frost… Requires your presence.”

You’re being very formal.

“… I’m defaulting… Please hurry.”

Ber, oblivious to the danger, happily skipped along.