ℍarrow's 𝕋ower

---

Harrow's Keep. Built on the border between House Reason and Young, the keep was constructed by Ishtar as a safeguarding point against Ateria. Tall stone walls line the outside of the town, protecting the bustling streets within.

While the keep no longer functions as a marker point between the two former enemies, it still remains as a lively and functional town. Harrow’s Keep is placed at one of the very few passes through the Jin mountain range, and as such a good amount of trade passes through it. The residents are able to make their livelihood off of farming and small-side manufacturing, passing off their goods to passing merchants and traders.

The real attraction of the town, however, is its namesake: Harrow’s Tower. Standing a full 40 meters above the rest of the town, the Tower remains as a symbol of the might of the Mage Queen. She constructed the Tower in such a way that the inside is far larger than the outside lets on, and special transportation portals are used to travel between the floors. The Brotherhood of Harrow’s manages the tower and maintains its upkeep.

The Tower is divided into 6 stories, with a basement and large courtyard. The Talks themselves are held on the very first floor, a large, open room that is often used for feasts and other celebrations.

The second floor of the Tower is split in two. One half is an effective alchemist's laboratory, constructed in order for Golovan Harrow to research chemical compounds in relation to magic, while the other is the Minor Library, a repository of Croanian history. While not as comprehensive as the collection under the House Reason manor, it still carries a few copies of books not found anywhere else.

The third floor contains the residencies. In a twist of unheard magical skill, the Mage Queen crammed 50 full-size suites into one hallway with magic. Each suite contains a living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom, fully furnished. The hallway outside is carpeted in luxurious red, and framed portraits of every Croanian King and Queen line the walls.

The fourth floor is the Major Library, larger and more comprehensive than its counterpart on the second floor. It contains numerous works of magical study and the sciences. Access is strictly forbidden to any without the Queen's express permission. Rumors said that there are a number of forbidden tomes contained in the library that were said to hold secrets to unlocking magical potential. The Brotherhood denies this, stating that all books in the Major Library are based purely on research and not speculation.

The fifth floor is an observatory, built in order to let Golovan view the stars at his leisure. It contains the most powerful telescope in Croania, as well as numerous star charts and models that Golovan himself created.

The final floor is actually the basement. Stores of food and drink are located here. The residents of Harrow's Tower (the monks that followed Golovan and defended the tower) also have their own residencies here. Some have said that there are stores of treasure hidden in the area under the tower.

Around the tower itself is a 40-meter wall, built out of reinforced stone. A single gate lets guests enter. Multiple ballistae line the top of the wall, and each is manned at all times. The security itself is managed by the Queen's Guard, elite soldiers that serve only the crown.

It is the 15th of Anais. The talks will begin the very next day. Each house representative approaches the Keep, to the future of Croania...

hello

ℍouse ℕols

---

“Vector’s coming to the talks.”

Esmeralda looked up from her newspaper. That was real news. Not the watered-down, propaganda-spewing garbage in the papers.

“Really? Since when?”

“Yesterday, I think.” Wester stirred his coffee slowly with a spoon as he poured in some cream. The white gradually mixed into the dark, lightening the brown drink.

“That’s interesting. What could have possibly driven the coot to come? Not like he’s cared about internal affairs before.”

“Probably the Akeshan policies. You know how he is about them.”

“Interesting.” She looked around the Great Hall of Harrow’s. Esme and her husband had arrived early, opting to take a break from the daily bustle of economics in order to relax a bit before the talks. The two were currently alone, save for some servants bustling about.“To think that the eternal wanderer would dock here, the furthest place possible from the sea.”

“You think he’s going to stay?” Wester sipped slightly at his coffee. “He is getting on in years.”

“No chance. I wager that he takes one look at the stuffy room the Brothers prepared and weighs anchor.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how he does it, to be honest. To spend so much time away from family… I wouldn't be able to bear it.”

Wester scratched his chin. “Hmm. I can sort of see the appeal… Oh, don’t look at me like that! I would never abandon you and Carrey.”

“You’d better not.”

Wester stretched slightly, stretching his shirt. He had been putting on a bit of weight recently.

Well, I suppose I shouldn’t speak on it. The pregnancy fat had never quite left. Esme still considered herself a stunner, but it was a bit of a sore point. At least I have an excuse.

“Anyway, mind handing me the paper?” Wester reached for the weekly edition in her hands.

Esmeralda tossed it aside. A servant rushed to pick it up. “It’s just the same things over again. I’m surprised people still read the same old things over and over again. Aureolin is getting lazy. At least change it up every once in a while.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Every week, a different petty crime, a new scandal, whatever. I’m surprised anyone still reads it.”

“Well, it’s the commoner’s edition, after all.”

“Regardless, it’s almost as if nobody has any brain cells at all!”

“That’s exactly what it is, though.”

“I wouldn’t mind if they at least complained a bit about being treated like morons. Aureolin could certainly use the trouble. And look at them now, getting all up on their high horse just because they’ve gotten a modicum of influence. A good rebellion would certainly shake things up.”

Wester finished his coffee and handed the empty cup to a servant nearby, who scurried it off to the kitchens. The Tower, thankfully, had chartered a full set of staff along with whomever each lord decided to bring.

“Anyway, with Vector on the balance, he might swing the vote away. It’s… 7-7 right now?”

“6-6. Alarick’s not coming.” Esmeralda counted on her fingers. “And I'm not entirely sure if that Immolis child’s vote even counts.”

"What, the young one or the upstart?"

“The new leader. Little Ruel is a lord, whether you like it or not. No, I’m talking about Solaris. The crown still hasn’t formally recognized him. I don’t know if that means his vote doesn’t count, or if he can even attend at all. We do know that he has a Akeshan assistant, though.”

Wester snorted. “I bet he’ll take on a Northerner next into his entourage if he’s willing to let a beastman into his circle.”

“It’s not as bad as House Reason, though. Marrying your only heir to the North?”

The two stood up from their table.

“What is House Reason up to nowadays, anyway?” Wester wondered aloud. “They’re usually first to the important events. History’s being made here.”

hello

ℍouse 𝕐oung & ℍouse ℝeason

---

The heir to House Reason was, in fact, stranded. He wasn’t by himself, of course. Reina, Alistair, and Christina Young were all stranded with him. But, in this instance, even in the presence of his beloved and soon-to-be in-laws, he felt very, very alone.

“No, Mother! It’d be better to substitute in the torque limiter from the back left wheel, because it’s the least damaged!” Tina’s voice floated out from underneath the car. A clang sounded, and then the smell of burnt metal and leather spread through the air.

“That rigid line of thinking is what got us here in the first place, Christina. If you hadn’t designed the car in such a way that a small bump would break the power coupling link, then we wouldn’t be here. Now, what I would do is disassemble the steering line, then wrap it around the input bar like this…” Reina spoke in the singsong, condescending tone she always took when she used to discipline Reason and Tina as children.

“You’ll break the whole control mechanism! And it’s not my fault! If you hadn’t set a two-week deadline, I wouldn’t have had to rush and make the designs as ‘shoddily broken’ as you’re implying!”

“Now, now, let’s not go around accusing each other.” Alistair, Tina’s father, tried to cut in. “I’m sure that there’s a reasonable-”

“It’s your fault too, Father!”

“Maybe for failing to teach our daughter basic mechanics. Shame, Alistair.”

Reason’s head spun. He still wasn’t used to the Young family dynamic, even after 21 years. Tina’s rivalry with her mother, Reina’s command of power, and Alistair’s well-intentioned but useless attempts at peacekeeping were all too much to handle, especially at such a time.

It didn’t help that it was an issue he had absolutely no experience with. Why couldn’t they realize just how wondrous the circumstances leading up to the current situation were? Build a car in two weeks? Reason couldn’t assemble a small puzzle given two months. And what about their destination? Two and a half centuries worth of oppression were on the verge of disappearing into the past. It would truly be a privilege to be part of such a momentous occasion.

It would likely be a while before the car was fixed. He pulled his cape underneath him and sat down, using it to protect his suit from the dusty road. The fur cape was a gift from his father to the Young family for their troubles back when they had first met. They had refused it, and, seeing no other use, his father had given it to Reason. It sat in his closet for years gathering dust, until one day over ten years later when Tina dug it out and forced him to wear it.

“Here, what’s this? Reason, this cape is pretty nice. You should add it to your outfit.”

“That old thing? It’s a little heavy, so I never bothered…”

“Try it on!”

He had done so, and a pregnant pause followed.

“How does it look, Tina?”

“Oh, um… it looks… great…”

“Okay, so it looks terrible, got it.”

“Wait, no! Seriously, it looks great! Um, you should wear it at all times!”

Reason knew that it looked rather tacky and unfashionable. He suspected that Tina had him wear it to drive away other women. What was the point? It wasn’t like he could look at other women anyway. He banished the thoughts from his mind, opting to stare off into nothingness.

Some time passed before a second clang pulled him back to reality. A horrible grinding, clanking, crushing noise followed. The engine groaned, then began its dulcet hum once more.

“Ahaha! Success!” Tina said. “Our record’s even now, Mother!”

“Well, this was just solving a problem that was your fault in the first place, so I’d say that the record is still far from even.” Nevertheless, Reason could detect a hint of pride in Reina’s voice. He heard her open the car door and climb in. A second slam. Alistair.

“Come on, Reason. The car’s fixed. I even got the seats back into working condition.”

“Wonderful, Tina. It only took you several hundred tries.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was my dogged persistence and unparalleled intellect that saved the day here.”

“Exactly. It’s why I love you.”

He could almost hear the blood rushing to her face. Tina took his hand. He could feel the grime and dust on her palm and fingers.

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

She pecked him quickly on the lips, then led him towards the car.

hello

𝕆ff the ℂoast

---

Total silence. Dead wind. Full cloud cover. A very light morning mist.

Tobias Graves, investigator and minor heir to the Graves family, gazed through the fisheyed lens of his spyglass at the far bend on the shore. He was waiting for pirates.

Finding the location hadn’t been easy. The pirates had made every effort to conceal their hideout, from dumping sharp rocks in the waters around it to snuffing the life of any local who so much as gazed upon it. It had taken a team of the best trackers and navigators on Croania to pinpoint the exact location, but the result would be worth it.

The pirate crew, while it had no official name, had been dubbed “The Blazing Irons” by terrified merchants and locals. The name came from their metal ship, as well as their particular style of burning and sinking ships after plundering them. It had been confirmed recently that a particularly strong fire mage lived in their midst, and Tobias had saved no expense in preparations against them. Three water manipulators. One water generator. A sand generator as a last resort. Along with the mages were over sixty navaliers, elite soldiers trained to fight on the rolling decks of ships. There would be no escape for the scoundrels.

The clincher, however, was the devious plan concocted by Tobias himself in order to capture the pirates. He had hired twelve of the nation’s best light manipulators in order to disguise the three ships he had taken to intercept the criminals. They now floated just outside the artificial shoals lining the entrance to the cove, completely hidden from view. Tobias stood on the deck of the main vessel, the Kiana. He would lead the attack against the pirates. They would ambush, overwhelm, and capture as many pirates as possible. Justice would be served.

“Reckon they’re coming?” asked Yolack, the first mate of Kiana. “‘s been an awful long wait.”

Tobias said nothing. The first mate had stood next to him the entire journey to the cove, likely to make himself seem more important. Tobias had no time for superficially-minded men like Yolack.

“‘Cause, the pirates, y’know, they mighta caught wind of what we’re doin’ an’ jumped ship,” Yolack continued. He scratched his stubble.

“No. The plan has gone perfectly thus far. The Blazing Irons attacked the specific merchants we were tracking six hours ago, like we predicted. They will be returning to the cove to unload their loot.”

Just as the words left his mouth, Tobias saw the Ironmaw round the far side of the shore. He gave the signal to his men. The two ships nearby vanished, and, though he couldn’t see it himself, Kiana was now invisible to anyone not on board.

“Should-should I git below deck?” asked Yolack nervously.

“No need. This battle will be over in a flash.”

Eska

---

The vines creaked, her body straining, as she put her entire being into pulling her longbow, the flower on the bow shaking gently as she ignored the pain in her shoulder. The usual stance, body bent forwards slightly, no thoughts of how and where to aim, because the arm already knows. An exhale, and the thick half inch arrow burst forwards.

The large centipede's head was impaled immediately, sticking it to a tree it was climbing. Tail swishing in excitement, Eska quickly moved in and hacked away the poisonous stingers on it. Pretty good catch, big enough for its segmented body to be divided as one meal per segment. Ah, she could already feel the chewy flesh within, encased with a crunchy shell. Holding up a hand, she uttered a silent prayer of thanks, as the arrow slowly grew tendrils and started to wrap up the still struggling insect.



"You're back. Did you bring back something to eat?"

An odd figure greeted her as she arrived home, a small clearing near a base of a hill where a small shack stood under a huge yew tree. Or rather, the yew tree seemed to be standing on top of it, devouring the small structure with its roots. The dryad's face fell immediately when she saw the struggling wrapped up insect on Eska's back, the colorful flora on her head drooping slightly.

"Ugh, again? I want some real meat." The brown barked girl shifted her leafy hair away from her eyes as she poked at the insect. "Can't I eat that?"

Eska's eyes moved towards where the dryad was pointing, to the dead man hanging upside down on a makeshift rack, his slashed throat draining what little blood he had left.

"Ah, such greed." Sighing, Eska gave in to the needy dryad's demands. Taking the centipede off her back, she handed it over to the leafy headed dryad. "Mayhaps this centipede can wait a little longer. Jiko can take this into the house to smoke later."

It has been a while since another human had tried attacking her since she first arrived here. Was it anger? Lust? Greed? Whatever it was, he had tried surprising her with a club as she bathed in the river, before she had clawed open his belly and throat in a scuffle. She had the good luck of turning just as she noticed him too; a bit more to the left, and he would have clubbed her straight on the head. Her shoulder was still sore from that blow.

"Ah the belly is ruined... Maybe I'll use that for our lunch. Stew? Roasted?"

She worked quickly, harvesting the body of anything she could. Everything must be used, or at least, as much of it as possible. Considering her past experience with humans, she would need to have absolutely no connection with any human disappearance, no matter if she was in the wrong or not. They would likely try to make more trouble for her down the road if they even suspected she was involved with this person's death. The innards would be buried as an offering to the earth, save for a few choice pieces like the heart and kidney. The head would be roasted for Jiko, and what meat she cannot use today would be salted to be used later.

The clothes... well the clothes can probably be reused to make a pillow or something. After a good wash or three. It smelled like he slept on dung for a week straight.

“Always so serious Rhy, you’ll never find a proper suitor with that attitude. Not that we need one.” Melodia’s sung out to her sister, eyes squinting at her as she daringly jested.

“Lady Rhythmia, if you wish to ignore our saintly leader - I will follow suit.” Vati chimed in. It really did seem like the boy took after the woman he guarded more than he himself would believe, almost like siblings.

Once again Rhythmia merely shrugged at them both. She met Melodia’s eyes and though her face was a blank slate, her sister would be able to read the amusement in them. Well, the one, anyway. The artificial eye was always shimmering, but never with any emotion. There were days when Rhythmia would rise to meet her sister’s provocations, but today wasn’t one of them. The short haired Lapseus wasn’t one to get nervous, but still she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists as they prepared to leave.

Rhythmia climbed into the car and settled herself in. She seemed to be in a rush but really, she was just hoping to get the whole event over with as quickly as possible. As she raised her arms to cross them over her chest, he noticed a slight tear in the stitched skin sleeve she’d chosen to wear. ‘Didn’t want to unsettle the mages,’ that was expressed to her and so she deemed it appropriate to conceal at least part of her prosthesis. She scooted closer to the others and peered at them.

“Mel,” she said and held her hand out with the torn “sleeve.” Should she repair it before they left, or leave it off? It wasn’t out of the question that Melodia would have some kind of kit with her, what with the mountain of things packed.

Melodia sat between Vati and Rhythmia, she enjoyed the claustrophobia, or perhaps just the warmth of being between two others. Not that the back seat was right or anything, the two small girls barely took up any room in the spacious car - plenty of leg room for Vati. She also knew that the two with her enjoyed window seats, especially her sister who was extending her sleeve out to her with that bright red doe eye.

“Can’t have that.” She uttered quietly between the two, reaching down past her skirt to her feet and into a small satchel that was placed carefully in front of her. Her medical equipment, which held sutures of many sorts - threads is surgical quality - and oh so many needles. Melodia plucked one such pre-threaded needle from the brown leather bag, pulling it out and twisting some stray fiber around her free hand while extending it towards her sister’s sleeve.

With careful precision she danced the metallic took in and out of the fleshy fabric, cross-stitching the sleeve and mending it back together as she pulled the weave right. The artificial skin now had white exes along it’s torn side, but the glossy and rather pristine fiber could be seen as a beautiful fashion statement or something - that’s what Melodia thought to herself.

“If anyone makes a comment, we’ll string them up and bleed them dry. But I think you should be fine now.” Melodia chimed to her sister, snapping her sights shut and beaming a smile of consideration towards her.

Rhythmia nodded at the comment. She knew that Melodia was a tease and loved exaggerating, but more often than not she said exactly what she meant - and she probably would string up anyone who so much as looked at her (or any of their entourage most likely) wrong. She was a good sister, or so Rhythmia thought. She smiled back at Melodia, a small grateful curve of her mouth.

Now that everything seemed to be ready, she leaned over and tapped on the driver’s headrest. When he looked into the rearview mirror to meet her eyes, Rhythmia made a spinning gesture with her finger to signal him to get the cars moving. If they’d forgotten anything the entire procession would stop at their command and even turn around, but she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. The driver in turn took this cue to honk his horn to signal the convoy to get a move on and head southbound down the road that the grand Lapseus Estate sat located upon. The property was a jewel amongst the rest of Gohethia: grassy green fields, hedges shaped into art, white stone carvings, as pretty as all noble estates should be - regardless of their location. Though the path out from their estate would soon transition from eden to a bright and busy city. Large industrial buildings, cityfolk passing through the foggy streets… and as the three car convoy passed some Lapsean citizens they waved happily as the car zipped on by.

“Oh, how I enjoy the growing trust the people have in us. I know that the city commoners are much more appreciative than those on the outskirts of our region, but gosh, the positive attention is quite refreshing. Especially compared to the past!” Melodia’s words bubbled out happily as she glanced back to Rhythmia, the innocent smile of genuinity painted earnestly upon her face.

“It’s nice,” Rhythmia agreed, and she let her nodding head rest upon her chest as the convoy’s speed increased once outside of the denser city. It seemed like so long ago when some of these same citizens would crowd the walls of the estate, shouting obscenities at the family. Well… she thought, letting her mind wander just a bit. It had been more than thirty years Melodia had risen to become the head of their house. People had been born and grown into full fledged adults since then, never knowing the at times brutal past of House Lapseus that ruled over them.

The short-haired Lapseus chose not to dwell on that thought. It was always a strange feeling, thinking about how much things had changed while she and her sister had remained largely the same. Bodily improvements notwithstanding.

With her head still resting on her chest, back pressed against the leather seat of the car and arms folded, Rhythmia cracked an eye open to meet Melodia’s cheerful gaze.

“D’you think,” she started after a quick glance past Mel and Vati out of the car’s window, showing at the time a dismal clouded sky that the sun was desperately trying to break through, “...we will have to stay long?” The woman was already unhappy with the event in general, and though it was far from her first time at Harrow’s Tower, she didn’t want to spend anymore time there than needed.

Melodia hummed curiously and veered her own crimson sights along Rhythmia. A sense of confusion would very briefly overcome the long-haired sister’s expression, flashing her vision across the car and out the window herself. The sight was quite beautiful, and although the north had its issues - they were true to their country and its people. The revelation of why exactly Rhy would ask that question set itself in Melodia’s mind, and made her smile reassuringly at Rhythmia. The long-haired sister reached her small hand out and set it upon her sisters knee for a moment giving a light pat.

“Of course we won’t be there long. We will listen to the annoying southern noble tirade, we will nod and think indecent thoughts, and then we will leave. If we’re lucky maybe one of older lords will die of a heart attack during the meeting - what was that one’s name? With the fancy mining regime in the southwest?” Melodia rambled on, allowing her views and emotions take the wheel with every articulation they crept from her child-sounding vocal chords. All the while, Vati kept his words to himself and watched out each window cautiously, that was his job.

Rhythmia’s face cracked into a smile and she closed her eyes again. If they’d been joking around in the comfort of their home, she may have even snorted a brief and rare laugh. Melodia’s brand of humor was quite something. Still, she never failed to get at Rhythmia, whether she was trying to cheer her or rile her up.

”Hm… Ba-lare?” she guessed. She left almost all political affairs to her sister, and although Melodia was in her light-hearted mood, the long haired sister was no fool and was only teasing. She’d know the names of all the “Southern scoundrels,” because how else would she know who to tear apart if she didn’t?

“...Balaur,” Rhythmia corrected herself after a moment. Yeah, that first one didn’t sound quite right. The smile was still resting on her face and she relaxed just a little, talking with Mel.

Melodia’s hands raised up quickly from her lap at the comical revelation and let out a single childish chuckle, almost mocking the name. “Most of the southern houses are so forgettable! It’s not like they’re any use anyway. Maybe that Reason boy, but he still has a lot to prove to the north anyway. And in the end, we need to focus on ourselves first and foremost - nobody will be there when we fall.” Her tone took a darker turn towards the end of her statement, looking to Rhythmia rather seriously, almost glancing right through her.

“You may want to reign in that volatility just a bit, m’lady. You will be voting on important subjects when you do - arrive. And the flippant attitude will not sit well with the southern powers.” Vati spoke rather bluntly, looking to Melodia with a look of disapproval eyebrows furrowed and all. The nerve of the boy, not only speaking to his master this way - but someone who has done so much!

Rhythmia took to nodding again - she couldn’t find any falsehoods in her sister’s words. Despite that they had dug themselves out of the hole their ancestors had dug for them, despite that they’d found a handful of others they trusted, despite that they’d managed to carve out a place for themselves… the only ones they could rely on were themselves. Rhythmia had come to truly feel that way over the years.

She looked up at Vati and raised a brow at his words. Any other servant would turn heads by addressing their Lord like that, and even the driver started to sweat a little, but Vati had quickly become a large part in her sister’s life - and as such, in Rhythmia’s - that it wasn’t as surprising as it should be. Rhythmia sighed, a small sound, and leaned her head against the window. No doubt the two seated beside her would launch into a mock argument. She was content to listen to their banter the entire trip...

...and that trip flew by rather quickly, most of the ride Melodia had snuggled into a warm blanket she’d retrieved from her luggage, napping the ride away. Rhythmia beside her fell into a shallow sleep. She’d wake up every now and then to make sure the rest of the car’s occupants were okay, then go back to dozing against the window - a testament to her trust in her sister’s bodyguard. The driver made only a single rest stop at a town that was somewhat halfway between Gohethia and their destination. Guards were stationed at every entrance and exit during that period. The journey was quite the long one, in actuality, even for the fancy automobile of the privileged northern nobility. The Lapseus sisters just slept the time away.

Eventually the convoy reached the notorious Harrow’s Tower. Vehicles screeched as they claimed their own parking quite some ways away from the rest of the carriages and horses of the other patrons.

Rhythmia exited the car first, her eyes scanning the entire area before she ducked back down and nodded for the others to leave as well. She wasn’t frightened or even worried about an attack - to do such a thing here, now, would be monumentally stupid - but one could never be too careful. She retrieved her small duffled and looped the strap over her shoulder before hefting the two large cases easily out of the car. Once she stretched her flesh limbs a little, Rhythmia turned her attention to Melodia. It was no secret the sisters were getting on in years, and while Rhythmia’s prosthesis and general activity kept her upright, her sister had always been on the frail side - and lately it had been getting worse.

“All right?” she asked the other Lapseus gently.

Melodia turned to her sister as she carefully pulled herself out of the car, dainty little fingers gripping out for safety. “Fine - fine - fine, have my manslave get my chair and carry it to the tower with us. Can’t have myself looking up at the prey, I mean, pretender!” She beamed a toothy smile at her sister.

Rhythmia returned her smile very briefly before peering over the top of the car and calling out in a deadpan voice: “Manslave.”

“You really have a complex about your size.” Vati chimed out as his green eyes rolling as he grabbed a wooden construct that was seemingly folded up, tucking it beneath his right arm rather easily. “Off to butt heads with the blue bloods then?” Vati winked to the two sisters before looking off towards their destination.

Rhythmia gave Vati a curt nod, her irritation once again becoming evident if not in her face then in the line of her shoulders. She watched servants and guardsmen spill out from the other two cars, buzzing back and forth between vehicles to collect the sisters’ luggage (and some of their own). She’d tried to convince Hunkston - Mel is really getting to me… Huston - that they’d be fine with the minimal amount, yet here they were. Though the other cars were for protection more than anything else, they still carried a great deal of suitcases, bags, and other such things.

Melodia smiled off once again to her sister while answering back to Vati. “Onward, to go rustle some feathers, maybe Reina and I will have a nice talk in private as well.” And with that, she started to trail off leading the way towards the entrance of the Keep. What would await them inside, they couldn’t yet say.

A pop and a flash shattered the night. An overwhelming force ripped the little merchant vessel apart. Amorphous globs of lava soared off in every direction, tearningthrough the darkness like a firework. Flames swarmed what remained.

The mageborn let out a sigh. It felt great to let fly some magic in this way every now and then, but she would never admit that.

"Good one, Rath!"

Rathas turned and flashed a cheeky grin at Gats, who complimented every lava bomb she conjured in that same way.

"Thanks, Gats."

Gats smiled back in that doofy way of his and moved back towards the ladder, chuckling to himself. "Just nuts, that! Just nuts! Hyuk hyuk!"

"GAAAATS! GETCHER FAT ARSE BACK DOWN HERE!"

"Wuh-oh!" blurted the oaf. He brought his barrel-sized arms up to his chest daintily and quickened his step. A strong kick released the trapdoor and he hopped down, arms raised. A second of silence prepared all who watched for the crash that followed.

"GaaAAATS!"

"Sorry, sir!"

"I was gonna eat those, you meathead!"

The trapdoor slammed shut, silencing the everyday havoc. Rathas raised her eyes and saw Hal standing over it with Shark draped across his hunched shoulders. They made rock-steady eye contact for several seconds.

Then Hal grinned, and they both broke out into a fit of snorting laughter.

In some magical way, Rathas and the only other mageborn aboard the Ironmaw shared their senses of humor, occasionally leading to moments like these in which they shared unchecked mirth. They took turns doing shitty impressions of Skrawl's screaming, Three-Eyes' "meathead!" and a few wuh-ohs as the smoke billowed up behind them, casting irregular shadows on the Ironmaw's deck.

Shortly after that, Sid popped his shiny head out from the trapdoor.

"We're crackin' into the drinks'a little early this time, lads! C'mon!"

Hal spoke first.

"No can do. This sky's too purty to leave unguarded fer a night."

A hint of sternness rode his words. Rathas understood.

"Sid, we've yet to land. We're not clear yet."

Sid rolled his bald head back, annoyed.

"D'aw, bollocks to the both of ye! We're tha focken' Blazen' Irons, 'member? Even plastered we'd take on anythen' these damn seas have in store fer us!"

With that he dropped back down along with the trapdoor.

Rathas turned to Hal.

"He's got a point."

Hal, jokingly exasperated, gestured towards the floor door.

"You go. Have fun. But I was serious about the sky; it don't often get this quiet an' there's hardly a speck'a clouds."

Rathas looked up to see what he meant. He was right; the sky was beautiful. The smoke had completely dispersed and the full moon dominated the sky with the stars acting as its acolights.

But the idea of games and alcohol stole her attention. Her head dropped back down. Hal still had his gaze fixed upwards.

"Nice, Hal. You enjoy yourself too."

She reached out and rubbed Shark's ear, then popped the trapdoor.

***

The metal vessel glistened like a trophy in the fresh sunlight, triumphantly splitting the waves and reminding the sea who wore the pants in their relationship. Its belly was full of stolen goods.

Most of the crew were out cold below deck but Byron Halifax lay awake in his hammock, swaying at the whim of the sea. The last few nights he had spent gazing up at the navy sky, enjoying the salty breeze, and enduring the stench of alcohol while the rest of the Ironmaw's crew enacted another ritualistic celebration for their successful trip.

The sun’s warmth pierced the clouds and sunk through his brittle body, and Hal finally felt his eyes grow heavy. Before sleep could take him, Shark hopped onto his damp chest, purring. Tired fingers found Shark's ear and scratched it, much to Shark's excitement. Enthusiastically, he dropped onto his side, and his continued purring drowned out the sound of the ocean against the ship. The old mageborn shut his eyes and felt at ease.

***

The ocean outside the cargo hold smacked the hull like a storm against a tin roof. Rathas awoke, hugging tightly the bougie fur blankets that they had plundered about four hours prior from some straggling merchant ships. Distant ringing tormented her ears, and with every beat of her pulse, the throbbing in her skull briefly worsened. The stench of alcohol hung so heavily in the air that it made her eyes water. The young mageborn groaned as she hoisted herself upright, and, using the eye that wasn't caked shut, assessed the damages of their drunken soiree.

Playing cards, crates, bottles, and barrels--and fragments of each--were strewn about the floor nonsensically. Glass shards flickered in unison with the one half-functioning lightbulb present in the hold.

'Seen worse, I'm sure.'

She twisted to find Three-Eyes stuffed into a barrel on the other side of the hold with his hands and feet sticking awkwardly out of the top like a shitty potted plant. Sid sat slumped against Three-Eyes’ barrel with a half a bottle of booze in his lap and a stream of drool sliding down his bristly neck. Another pirate lay sprawled atop a mess of smashed fruit. She counted four more casualties, each telling its own story.

Finally she tore herself from the floor in one thrusting motion, intentionally agitating the pain in her joints. The grimace she'd worn since returning to her senses spoke volumes.

'Water.'

Rathas stumbled towards the ladder and caught a rung before she could drop to the floor again. A moment was spent collecting herself before she ascended, each rung proving itself an obstacle worthy of thought. She threw open the trapdoor, challenging the blinding white light to overtake the hold. A hand flew in front of her good eye to save her pounding skull from the sensory onslaught. Some of her crewmates stirred, groaning and muttering to themselves. Rathas took another moment to adjust to the damp, fresh air and grating sunlight before slinging a knee above deck. The motion shot sharp pain down her entire lower body, but the young mageborn did not so much as wince. She had a goal, dammit, and no amount of hangover could slash her drive. Her quest for hydration continued and it wasn't long before she had herself a gallon of water from the Ironmaw's provisions stash.

Two hours passed. At this point, most of the crew had woken up and gathered their senses. The cargo hold and upper deck were much cleaner now after a run-in with a few mops, several trash bags, and some elbow grease from everyone.

Yon's Cove drew near and the pirates prepped for landing while exchanging corny jokes and laughing about the last few hours.

ASTER NOLS - Harrow's Keep: Stables

---

They were always in the corner of her eye when she wandered through Harrow’s Keep. The way the roads were paved. Foreign metals sprouting on the sides of the street, like weeds. Inelegant.

“Streetlights,” the innkeeper had drawled, her first time here, “like the Northerners. You know.”

The drover felt her mouth crease like back then.

The town reminded her of her cousin. It was a charming little thing, proud of its lineage and its role to play in the decades to come. You could gauge its significance at a glance, which explained the tension it always invoked in her, the invisible politics telling her to stay away. It was always the politics, wasn’t it? She was lucky that last job involved a detour around a bridge undergoing repairs. Five thousand sheep, a dozen horses and some good, sturdy stockmen made far better company than Esmerelda’s entourage ever could. Sheep never made a fuss without good reason, unlike her own species.

Case in point.

“No, no, no. Not today. Please, you can’t take this from me.”

Ulrich had planted himself between the woman and the drafthorses, face red. She tilted her head.

“Ummm… thing is, bud, I can? I’m doing that now.” She stuck her thumb out to behind her. “Better git soon.”

“The Nols Principal Driver was my post. Galryn came to me persona—"

“Aye, but y’know how it is.” Whoops, she hadn’t meant to cut him off. Ah well. “Pa’s orders.”

Ulrich was grinding his teeth, the movement of his beard made it evident. Like a goat. This was taking an awful long time for such a minor job swap.

“M’lady.” Oh, gosh. “I implore you. The driver of Esmerelda Nols' stagecoach. This is the most prestigious assignment I will ever get in this lifetime.”

'Prestigious'? Ah, that's what it was. Finally, she understood his resistance to her. After all, Ulrich was originally a humble cargo driver from a humble clan of horse breeders. He must have been waiting all these years for the chance to get close to House Nols and climb society’s ranks…

…of stagecoach drivers!

“Hm.” Gosh, why hadn’t she realised sooner? There were so many jobs she could have had reassigned to him. “Well, I’m going to make sure Pa hears of our exchange. Don’t worry, Ulrich. I hear Solaris has many jobs fer men like you.”

Remembering what her father scolded into her about ‘effective leadership’ and 'positive reinforcement', she flashed a smile. Ulrich paled.

“A-Are you letting me go?”

“ ‘f course.” She needed to let him go and return to the capital and speak with father about it. Procuring a secure relationship with the new territory was a worthy project for Ulrich. “I’ve no need fer you.”

“But… my family. O-Our stables…” he quivered. Was he that excited? What did they have to do with anything? “Where am I supposed to go?”

“…The gate past the tailor’s? Once yer outside the walls, take the left at Ilvan’s Fork and the rail station will be just a few miles down the road. Safe travels, man.”

"I've served you for so long…"

"I'm well aware."

For an aspiring stagecoach driver, he didn’t seem to be very good with directions. The man was silent, stunned. Once again, from the excitement and anticipation of an evolving career, she presumed. Gosh, she was such a good boss.

“I…” he whispered. Choking back emotion? “I won’t forget this, Nols.”

Her smile only widened. Yes, her gracious conduct would be well-regarded. “I sure hope not.”

His face twisted, and he hurried out. She swore she could hear sobbing – those were tears of happiness, right? – but did not get a chance to dwell on her own magnanimity before a Tower guard darkened the stable’s entrance.

“Pardon the intrusion. Some servants in the courtyard alerted me to a commotion in here. A loud argument?”

She chuckled. “Oh, dear me, no. No quarrels here.”

The guard frowned and glanced back at Ulrich’s figure in the growing distance. “That man—"

“Yer overseeing the Tower, aren’t you?”

Whoops, she cut someone off again. The guard snapped her attention back to the drover and nodded.

“Yes. The security for the talks is collaborative effort by House Young and—”

“Ah, perfect!” Gosh, again. At least it explained the metal contraption strapped to the guard’s hip. It resembled a mangled silver trumpet more than a weapon to her. She rattled through her rucksack and pulled out a crumpled envelope, sticking it out to the guard. “This is for Esmerelda.”

“Lady Nols,” she confirmed, likely to herself. The refined seal on the back gave her pause. “Do you have authority within the House?”

“Of a sort.” She did a two-finger salute then used the same hand to tap at a badge on her lapel. “Nols Principal Driver, at yer service. You can tell ‘er I just rolled into town. Aster Nols of the Ethra Company.”

“…I see. Are you lodging with the House Nols’ entourage?”

“Not at all,” Aster chirped. Now that her errand was run, she adjusted her rucksack and began heading to the exit. “If she asks to see me, you tell ‘er I’m…”

She thought about it, lips pursed with the effort.

“Just tell ‘er I’m around. I doubt she'll make you go through the trouble anyway. Well appreciated, guard!”

With that, Aster Nols moseyed on out and embarked on the start of her Harrow’s Keep vacation.

ℍouse 𝕂othlin

---

Up and down. Up and down. It was a game Arthur Kothlin often played as a child, on long trips to adjoining houses and visitations to the Aterium mines. Follow the horizon with your eyes and avoid obstacles with your vision. Pass the time. Ignore the veritable mountain of paperwork and lordly duties to be done.

Paperwork… no, he wouldn’t think of it. The stack of sheets next to him was too daunting.

“If I do paperwork now, I won’t have enough mental energy for the talks,” he said to himself. He tried not to look at the paperwork.

Yes. That was it. The talks. He was en route to the most important event in his life so far. He was representing the people, the lands, the strength of House Kothlin.

And he was going in a carriage! The absolute nerve of his chief secretary, Oyel, to book a carriage to such an event!

“See, if you arrive in a carriage, you show that you’re just like those damned Southerners, and they’ll be more favorable. It’s all about impressions,” she had said in response to his protests.

She was probably right. But that didn’t make it any less boring. He loved the feel of a car, the speed, the hum of the engine, the power he felt at the wheel. In contrast, a horse-drawn carriage was so weak, so spindly, so fragile.

Kothlin looked out the window once more. The fence posts were passing by so slowly...

“Agh, stonge this,” he muttered. He flicked a switch inside his gauntlet. His suit came to life, drawing energy from its power bank. His helmet tried to snap on, but he stopped it with his hand. He wanted to feel the rush of wind and air on his cheek and see the afternoon sun on the distant Jin Ranges, not projected numbers and calculations on a screen. A powersuit gave life, let humans achieve their true potential and reach for their dreams. It would certainly fulfill his dream of getting out of that stuffy carriage.

He kicked the door off its hinges, sending it flying off the road and into the bushes alongside it. The carriage ground to a halt. Arthur leaped out the side and landed, the powerful servos in his greaves assisting the fluid movement.

“Sir, what are you-”

“I’m going on ahead!” Without another word, he kicked the suit into high gear and began running in great leaps and bounds, covering many meters in a single step.

The scenery was beautiful once he was out of the carriage. The leaves were just starting to change color, enveloping the area in brilliant reds and oranges. There had been some light rains earlier, and fresh drops glistened on every surface he passed. In the distance, he could see the dual mountains enclosing the keep on either side. From his position, it would be about two hours by carriage to reach their bases.

Forty minutes by powersuit.

He let out a laugh as the wind rushed past him. How wonderful it felt to have this control over his destiny. If the South played nice, he could possibly lend them some suits to let them have a taste of this beauty, this scenery, this wonder that was only possible through tech. If.

hello

ℍouse 𝕀mmolis & ℍouse 𝔻alris

---

The next arrival at Harrow’s Tower came in with a bit of a crash. The massive bodies of two wyverns - one black, one grey - came down onto the ground right outside of the tower. Atop the black one, a blond man who looked as if he was about to go to war. Cedric Immolis, the man who never left home out of full armour. He got off with ease, offering his hand to one of the people on the grey wyvern. The guards rushed behind him to pick up his luggage.

The dainty form of Ruel Immolis hopped from the beast, ignoring his brother. He was dressed more elegantly, looking around with wonder. His first appearance outside of his estate. That seemed to be a recurring theme with these talks.

“Take them to the stables, Lorise,” Cedric said, adjusting Ruel’s collar. “You’re free to do as you please. I’ll come down to check on you later, just stay out of trouble.”

“Got it, sir,” the woman left on the grey wyvern said. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” With a wicked grin, she cut the ropes securing the luggage to the other wyvern, then took to the air once more. The black wyvern followed, leaving the poor guards to scatter from the falling bags.

“Ah! That took so long. We should really move to the north of Immolis. It takes too long to get anywhere,” Ruel yawned.

“You may be the lord now, but you can’t just move the capital around as you please,” Cedric replied. He waved at the guards, indicating for them to take their luggage inside. He didn’t carry any of it himself - neither did Ruel. “It doesn’t matter anyway. This is a one off. Don’t expect to be making lots of trips.”

“This didn’t take that long!”

“Lorise is a busy woman. I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Ruel opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He resigned himself to staring up at the tower. “Oh, wow! Isn’t this cool, Ced?”

“Lords don’t stand around calling things ‘cool’. Lords go inside to prepare for the talks. Let’s go.”

“Yes, but lords also tell their heirs to stonge off. Come on! I wanna look around.”

“Language.” Cedric’s eyes narrowed.

Ruel scoffed. “Fine then. But later, I will have my way.”

Yet another carriage arrived. It was a rather large one this time. The outside was scuffed and plain, but as it drew nearer, it almost seemed to fade off, revealing a carriage of a much greater grandeur. Large and elegant, just like the tall woman who stepped out of it - Elise Dalris, representing the information house. She looked more like she was dressed for a dinner party than anything. Following her was a stern looking bodyguard, who was carrying at least five suitcases.

Elise didn’t hesitate. As soon as she saw them, she started running after Ruel and Cedric. She was fast. She caught up with them quickly, tackling the elder Immolis with a tight hug. He didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, darlings! How I missed you!”

Cedric pulled the feral woman off of himself. “You visited us two months ago, Elise. That’s hardly anything.” Ruel gave her a wave, to which she ruffled his hair.

“I missed you, Ellie,” he said, grinning cheekily. Elise looked delighted.

“Ruel, you’re not a child. Stop acting like one. Let’s go inside,” Cedric said. He sounded bored, as if he’d been through this scenario a hundred times before.

Ruel laughed waving his hand at his brother. “Oh well. Care to join us, milady?” He bowed, trying to keep a straight face. And failing. He offered his hand to the taller woman.

She took it and curtseyed. “Oh my! Aren’t you the gentleman?” Hand in hand, they walked into the tower. Cedric followed closely, grumbling.

hello

ℍouse 𝔾ranis

---

Later that day, yet another carriage arrived. Despite being from one of the closest houses to the tower, it was also one of the last to arrive. House Granis, represented by its eldest heir, Eric. He stepped out of his carriage, chest held high, cape fluttering behind him. Even when it was still inside and despite the lack of wind outside of the tower.

He was using his gate to make that happen.

“Fresh air! Finally,” he yawned. A few servants trickled out after him. “Oh, let me take my luggage. Don’t trouble yourself with it, dear. Nyna, keep talking.” A brunette maid nodded quickly.

“Well, Prina was like, with the guy, yeah? Then I swear they were on a date, right. He was real close to her. He bought her some lunch and all. She can do so much better.”

Eric nodded sagely. “Lunch dates? Child’s play. Why, afternoon tea is all the rage these days. I don’t want my sister at the mercy of such low class men.”

“I know, right? So then, like…”

Nyna continued to recount the event of Prina’s outing, Eric making occasional comments while the guards inspected the carriage. He handed them their invitation letter, and after a minute, the gate opened for them.

“How disappointing. If she wanted to go on dates, she really ought to let me set her up,” Eric sighed. “Come now, get settled into the tower. You can all head into the town for the evening once you’ve unpacked.”

Enthusiastic at the prospect of a day off, the servants hurried inside. Eric followed them leisurely, humming a tune to himself. Soon, he would be meeting with some of the most powerful people on the planet. Somehow it didn’t bother him at all. It was the content of the talks that he was nervous about. So important that Pachel had bothered to turn up, alone, no less. There was no use dwelling on it.

---

A trio of men, all in some matter of dark apparel, meandered along the quiet dirt road on horseback, nearing Harrow's Keep. Leading the group at the front was a quite a large man, one who looked like a fortress atop the mountain-like steed who adorned him, his darksteel full-plate clattering almost rhythmically along with his horse's footfalls. The smaller man riding in the rear on the left sported a rather pale complexion, his long raven black hair matching his regal servant's outfit, humming what sounded like a catchy pop song from the North. At the right of the pale man was a much larger, masked figure with a fairer complexion. The veiled man wore a set of fine, black clothes only befitting of a Lord, stretching and threatening to tear from the man's ripped physique underneath. While he wore no armor, he wore a rather imposing sword at his hip.

"We've almost reached Harrow's Keep, Lord Balaur! I can see it!" The darksteel colossus at the front beckoned, his voice almost echoing within the confines of his metallic shell. The paler man humming the song smiled at the news, softly clapping as he turned to the well-dressed beefcake riding next to him.

"Ahh, it's almost time, m'lord! I wonder how the other lords will react to your sudden appearance, Lord Matthias..." The servant chuckled, placing a hand over his mouth. The eponymous 'Matthias' only grunted in response, producing a dark gray pocket watch from his coat pocket and keeping note of the current time.

"Don't worry, m'lord... we've still a day to spare. After we've finished finding our rooms and unpacking, I'm sure you have more than enough time to stretch those old legs of yours and enjoy the thrills of the outside world! I'm sure you of all people could use some fresh air, after all~"

Despite the annoyed tones 'Matthias' gave in response, he couldn't help but agree with the jovial butler. It has been so long since he has left the confines of House Balaur, and without his armor as well. The feeling was liberating, and Lord Balaur was tempted to cartwheel the rest of his way to Harrow's Keep, being held back by his own better judgement. Indeed, the Lord had intentionally chosen a rather slow method of making his way to the talks as he had a lot to think about. Lord Balaur had the unfortunate fate of being unfamiliar with all the lords on a personal matter, seeing as his generation seemed to have more or less died out. Times were changing quickly, and Lord Balaur knew that sooner or later, he would have to catch up with them, himself.

"I understand that it's in my best interest that I presented myself as my own heir, but by the Goddess, is the mask really necessary?" 'Matthias' finally broke his silence, his voice imposing and deep. "I'm sure the lords of this generation are unaware of what 'Lord Darius Balaur' looked like in his prime. I could easily pass off as an heir without it."

"Oho, but I'm afraid you are wrong, Lord Matthias. A mask does more than merely hide the wearer's visage. It creates a new identity, a new person for the wearer. A mask not only hides one's face, but creates a new one for others to behold. Take our brave escort, for example. Without his helmet, you would know him as Sir Hiram Bleakford, a down-to-earth nobleman who owns one of the largest ranches in House Balaur. With it on however, all you see is a dutiful Black Knight, a holy soldier of Anais and one of House Balaur's most elite warriors, grim and imposing!"

Lord Balaur grunted once more in response, though he couldn't hide how impressed he was at his servant's words of wisdom even with his mask on.

"Your insight and way with words have proven to me once again the only reason why I keep you as my advisor, Rohmani."

"Are you sure it's also not because of the mask you have me wear?" Rohmani quipped back with an almost sinister tone, his innocent smile doing its best at hiding whatever darker implications he made. Lord Balaur replied only in silence as the trio began to behold the impressive Harrow's Tower. Rohmani stared at awe, while Lord Balaur looked on with a sense of pride.

"The first Lord of House Balaur had the Stygian Spire constructed based off of this very tower. He had it built in one of the highest points of the land, so that he may be closest to Anais. How fitting it must be for history to be made here..."

The three representatives of House Balaur continued onward, closing in on the gates of Harrow's Keep.

---

(outline: Drakus gives orders. Rendyl & Abbi get ready and leave for Harrows tower.)

When the sun had just hit the tallest towers of Solaris and shone brilliantly through the heavenly reaching statue overlooking the grand arena in the Lidicrum. Once the deepest of shadows were chased away and the servants had something other than candle light to work in. Drakus had stepped out onto his balcony and peered down from his vantage high above, bare chested he basked in the sun as he watched the hustle and bustle of his subordinates down below. Three golden carriages, crafted just for this occasion, were hurriedly loaded and checked while a string of fine horses were fed and attended to.

"Double check! I don't want Master to be without his favorite food treat at all on this trip!"

Rendyl was coordinating a dozen workers as they loaded the cargo into one of the three carriages for their journey to Harrowed Tower. It wasn't a bad morning all things considered. It was a bright, crisp morning, and Rendyl was reminded of a life long passed where such mornings meant a beautiful day to sail the open seas…

"Miss Rendyl?

The voice pushed her out of her reverie, and she blinked at one of the workers who was looking at her with a funny expression on his face. She realized she had been tracing a few fingers across her golden necklace, a gift from Him after being inducted into Drakus's personal guard unit. The Avian shook her head slightly and pointed at a trio of bags "Why are you standing around you lazy good-for-nothin'? Get the last of it loaded up!"

"Yes miss! But there is a message from the Lord. He says to go on ahead and he will catch up."

Rendyl instantly looked up to where Drakus's balcony was, seeing if she could catch sight of him in the morning sun. Again? She wished he would take her on his outings...
A sudden whistle pierced the air. It held a familiarity to most in the house. A particular pitch in a particular tone. Drakus, the lord of Solaris knew that this meant Rendyl would soon be at his side. He exited the balcony and disappeared back inside his room. Already growing impatient.
Rendyl upon hearing the whistle leapt off the box she had been using as a stool, tossed a clipboard to the man she had been speaking to, and called "Remember the treats!" Before she turned a corner of an archway and disappeared into the building.

She found Drakus in his large lavish chambers, half naked and in the process of being dressed. His maids, two young female’s, identical twins and an exceptional singing duet had only recently fallen into his employ from some no-name family. While still training in etiquette he had taken a fancy to their almost eerie disposition and peculiar personalities. In perfect unison they turned their heads to stare at Rendyl and simultaneously put their thin frail frames between the lord of the house and his respected head of personal guard.
For reasons unknown they had grown exceptionally protective of Lord Drakus, almost as much as they seemingly disliked the avian.

Rendyl didn't seem terribly put off by their actions. She was used to some of the staff being guarded around her at this point, if not outright hostile for the fun of it. She gave a bow to Drakus, her wings tucked close to her back "Your guardian reporting as requested."

A smile crept across his lips ”Tell Rebbeca that Abbi is to wear a dress, non negotiable.” He ordered as he shooed off his maids. They stared daggers at Rendyl as they reluctantly left the room.
Drakus resumed his earlier position with his arms to the side and his head slightly tilted up as he waited assumingly for his shirt buttons to be completed.

Rendyl walked forward past the maids, ignored their stares and stepped up to the tall man, reaching up to resume buttoning his shirt. Drakus spoke once she began "Ensure Abbi is kept safe and comfortable. She is critical at these talks so keep an eye on her and the servants she favours.”
"Yes Master." Rendyl replied in a quiet voice, smiling slightly as she slipped the last button in place. She stepped back and held her hands together in front of her, awaiting further instructions.

“Look out for yourself too, these people will try to trip you up and get you to say things they can use against us. I have made you strong, don’t let them.” His voice grew stern and serious towards the end. “Are the guards all ready and in place?”
"Yes Master. They have been assigned and at the ready for the last half hour." His avian slave had known Drakus would expect only the best.

“People, reputation, cargo. That is your priority. Now, I will meet with you again on the day before the talks” He announced firmly dismissing her. His eyes flicked to the balcony briefly, that small notion granting her access to use it as an exit as he turned to the mirror to inspect his attire.
Rendyl bowed "Yes Master I will remember." She replied, and when she was sure he was done with her, Rendyl started walking slowly towards the balcony…

Then without much protocol she sprinted out the open balcony doors and launched off the railing. She allowed gravity to grab her and pull her down before she slowly unfurled her wings, easing them out into the wind to catch herself. She slowed her fall and gently glided in a lazy circle, relishing in the sensation of the wind in her feathers.
Landing meant a graceful curved approach, running as she met the ground near the carriages. Rendyl raised a hand "Let's hurry! It is almost time!"

-------

Abbi rolled over and groaned as the maid came and woke her. Her room had the smell of the bleach of paper, leather, and grease. The maid was a sweet eighteen year-old that had been raised in the keep her whole life. So she knew the routines and the comings and goings that needed to be attended to. Rebbeca had been a housemaid and been promoted to a lady’s maid when Abbi arrived. Now she was diligently trying to perform her duties as Abbi wanted to sleep for another five minutes. She had spent the evening on a special music box, one that had a needle that pushed out. It was a precursor for the music box that would be a gift for whoever had killed her parents, when she found them. At least that is what she intended. The music box made a fairly effective timer but it was not as accurate as the electronic things back in Young. But give or take 15 seconds was not bad for something made from metal springs and wood. The mechanism needed some more work as it tended to bind. She had been working on this along with the portable pipe organ Lord Drakus was giving as a gift to the Queen. She had made a larger one for the keep.
Abbi had been sponsored to the university by an unnamed benefactor after her parents were killed in a fire. Abbi had been given to study what interested her, which were most things. Her status as a minor magic user gave her a little credibility, her ability with math and the sciences were more impressive. Growing up in a mechanics shop with a mother who made paper and bound books was a good place for Abbi. She was reading at an early age and helping her father. Since she had graduated and her advisors suggested strongly that Abbi get out and see the world, Abbi has been working as the new Technological Advisor for Lord Drakus. He in turn he seemed not to upset by her experiments or wanting to learn things, books and equipment being her big weaknesses. She was hired to help with issues and advancements of technology.
Abbi was not much higher standing than Rebbeca. Rebecca had been calling Abbi, Lady Smith. But Abbi had negotiated it down to Miss Abbi, not wanting that someone would assume she was a noble. The queen could make her a lady or she could marry into a title. For now she was a commoner with an education.
As she rose from bed, the maid insisted that Abbi had to wear a dress for the trip. Abbi had insisted that pants and her working clothes would be better suited if a wheel broke or if something needed to be repaired. The compromise was that Abbi would wear pants under her dress. So, if the men needed her help her dress would not get muddy. The dress showed off more of Abbi than she wanted seen. Abbi’s opinion was that Rebecca’s job was to get her married off. But the house was known for its display, pageantry, and arts. Rebecca said that “A woman is like a fine glass of wine to be enjoyed by the eyes and drunk slowly.” Abbi was more worried about someone wanting to put a hand in the glass.
She was also more concerned about the practical issues of what would happen if a wheel broke. Abbi decided that would wear pants under her dress.
At the carriage, three chests containing the portable pipe organ, a box of tools, chests of clothing, a small selection of reference books, and two of her messenger pigeons were loaded in the carriage. She had two more chests with things she wanted to bring. But she figured Rebbeca and Rendyl were working together to limit the weight. Abbi’s guard helped her into the carriage, by lifting her up and carrying her as she was having a hard time figuring out how to get up or down to get into the carriage.

---

(outline: Drakus meets up with Rendyl & Abbi)

Rendyl was on top of Master's carriage, taking the time to stretch her wings wide and full. Her feathers after six years had finally grown back in full, and it was so good to feel the wind pushing into them again.
Yet as her head hung back to stare up at the sky she heard the telltale flap of wings. Separate to their scouting wyvern escort. She slipped down and through the open carriage window, tucking her wings close into her body to fit, and quickly grabbed her guardian shield
"Miss Abbi stay in here. something is coming."
When Rendyl pushed the carriage door open and leapt out, she flapped once to help her get back on top and looked around, prepared now to intercept a possible attack…

Daystar was unmistakable, large for a gray wyvern and anything but gray. It was more of a yellow to brown with beautiful spots on its wings that the sun illuminated when it soared or glided. This was Drakus’s personal pride. The creature was fast, very fast, also quite rare. Rendyl recognized the color of the wyvern once it was in sight, and a wide grin split her face "Friendly wyvern landing!" She called, and let go of the hilt of her sword.

There was a loud screech as Daystar announced their arrival before diving a bit and swooping back up. They were positioned perfectly with the bright sun silhouetted behind them, glowing through the beasts magnificent wide arching wings. Then it came down with a few heavy flaps to land a small way up the road inside front of the carriages where Drakus dismounted and waited.

"Master!" Rendyl called and hopped off the carriage to alight near the landed wyvern. She was genuinely happy to see him, but she knew not to say anything further. She stood in her 'lady in waiting' posture within grabbing distance, her shield held at her side.
In their time together the two had learnt to speak volumes in silence. Something only gained by years of close proximity and awareness.
A slight rise in the eyebrows, a hanging pause in his gaze, the posture. He questioned how things went. Her uninterrupted resolve and assured steadiness replied that all was as planned. The faintest relaxation on a small exhale and a slow turn away was a semblance of a ‘good, well done’.

Abbi had spent much of the trip going between the carriages. No matter how much she tried, the servants did not want to call her Abbi, even though she was of the same social class. The queen could bestow the title of Lady on her. That would have impressed her parents. When Lord Drakus arrived, she curtsied as the maid had been teaching her as they stopped. She had been learning the court dances as well. There was more to being an advisor than she originally thought.

“Lower, more weight on your front foot.” Drakus instructed lightly as he approached, Rendyl in tow. He casually removed his leather flying gloves. “Otherwise looking good miss Smith.” he congratulated as he held out the gloves for a servant to appear and take before disappearing.
“And nice dress.”
“Still you must keep up you’re training, you represent house Solaris now. There will be a lot of people looking for any reason to disregard us, we must be strong on every front. Avoid those who oppose technology, they will trap you with their words, share our knowledge and interest with those of house Young and Kothlin. Hopefully we can cement some allies.”

He gave a confident smile and small nod. “But for now we eat, I’d hate to arrive with an appetite.”

---

(outline: Drakus, Rendyl & Abbi arrive at the tower)

Drakus, Rendyl, Abbi and Eliona were all in Drakus’s comfy carriage. They discussed the information they already knew and that that they had purchased from Dalris. Possible allies and enemies, existing friends and foes.
“I could just kill him.” Drakus said referring to his older brother as his name was mentioned. Trying to remain nonchalant but clearly growing tense at his mention. Eliona was the only one who could raise the concerns of his family without coping a scolding. She was also the only person who could tell him he was being ridiculous.

Abbi listened intently to the conversation trying to take it all in. She would make notes later, for now she needed to listen. When Drakus mentioned the possibility of killing his older brother, Abbi was a little shocked. Technically, she knew she had the ability to assassinate someone, mage or not. She carried proof in her messenger bag. It would not take much more to modify the box into an explosive device. “Pardon me, as someone who lost family members to death, I would recommend that my Lord keep that as a last resort plan. If it goes wrong there are major issues to be dealt with.” she said. “Mainly death.“

There was the faintest nod and a dismissive flick of his of his wrist. “My ‘family’ is my concern, you focus on getting a representative from each of the technology houses into our schools. To teach, study or research, I don’t really care. As long as they produce something beneficial to our house. You will be responsible for them so choose wisely."

Rendyl held her tongue through the discussion, even though she was in control of a few ports, she was a bodyguard and servant first. Her Master had made sure of that.

Drakus was now peering out the window. They were finally here.
With the grand structure towering far above them, impressive, awe inspiring and full of history, Drakus instead paid it no mind as he scanned the grounds for the other lords and ladies to arrive. There were northern vehicles, southern carriages and just ahead of them there was the unmistakable black armour of a darksteel Knight. House Balaur, an old neighbor and country Drakus had visited in his youth. While most of Immolis might frown on Balaur’s methods for labour Drakus took note from the tomes, everyone had their place…

Rendyl was the first to step from the carriage, making certain to move to one side quickly and stand at attention for her Lord, shield held at her side. She was dressed in a decorative uniform specially designed for her, with the primary theme being wings.

Abbi exited the carriage and moved to the other side and back a little. She knew her place was decorative at the moment. A couple days travel made the getting in and out easier. She was grateful she did not fall as she exited the carriage. She admired how Rendyl knew her part and how regal she looked doing it. Abbi felt like a farm child coming to the city for the first time. She did her best not to look around and play her part. She wanted to go check the gift for the Queen but protocol dictated her need to be on display.

Following behind Abbi Rose was Eliona, the blind bard. This woman of weak noble blood held the appearance and stature of a full noble woman. During her days serving house Immolis it was hard to see her not as one of them. The once fierce deliverer of justice had lost her eyes six years ago at the event that kickstarted the reclamation of Kvat, the place that would later become Solaris. Today her elegance and grace was boundless, seemingly unimpaired by her condition. Taking the current styles from her new house she wore a long tight sleeveless dress that reached the floor, cinched at the waist by a glittering silver belt and was adorned with fine yet simple jewellery.

Drakus was the last to leave the carriage, his well trained servants ceased all movement and stood at attention beside the carriage as he did. Here at this place he was battling for lordship and house rights, he could not present himself as anything less. The bustling of commotion and unloading continued only after he made his way up the steps empty handed.

He led his small entourage up the great steps, catching up to a recognisable figure in his signature cape fluttering about despite the absence of a breeze.
“Lord Eric” Drakus announced formally before, offering introductions and light small talk of the travels and weather.

Aelious wasn’t tired, nor was he bored, but he was certainly exasperated. Shouldering through another set of heavy doors, the bespectacled man stomped his way up two flights of stairs, stacks of strung-up documents leaning against his chest. With a swift kick, he knocked open the final door to the study, before unceremoniously dumping the stacks upon the floor. Dreadful work, manual labour was. A satisfying crick from his hips and back later, and he marvelled at all the lifting he had done. 123 proposals exactly, made by various branches across Croania. He never really understood his brother’s fascination with having things in weird numbers, but then again, that was just stress management, wasn’t it? He ran a gloved hand through his hair, before casting his gaze upon the Lord of House Aureolin himself, the ice-haired inheritor of all that their father and more. Althein Aureolin, the now second youngest Lord in the Croanian Empire, what with the succession of Lord Immolis. Of course, considering how deceptively youthful some other Lords were, it was probably hard to believe, huh?

Said Lord was currently humming a cheerful little ditty about Harrow’s ‘Tower’ as he pored over documents with print so fine that it’d make any normal person’s eyes bleed, and said Lord was also chewing happily on the blackened dough that his Second Wife, the Lady of the Iron Chapel, claimed were cookies. Pale bastard he may be, but Althein certainly compensated for his agoraphobic nature with his self-flagellating tendencies. Aelious watched him work in silence for a moment, before turning away.

“Hey, Aeli,” Althein called from behind, turning his eyes towards his older brother. Those irises were cerulean, blue as a winter sky.

Aelious stopped. “Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“Bringing them up.” A pale hand, adorned by a single silver ring, gestured towards the documents. “Heavy, right?”

Aelious laughed. “Naw, ain’t shit.”

“Then can you bring them to my desk?”

“Huh?”

“Bring them to my desk.”

“Really now.” The Heir snorted. “Delivering them from the estate wasn’t enough?”

“I mean, now that you’re so close…”

“Payment?”

“How ‘bout this?” He waved one of the blackened lumps back and forth, a half-grin on his face. “They’re pretty interesting.”

Aelious gave him a look, before hefting up the stacks of paper once more, taking the last five steps across a lovely carpet and dumping it atop the oak table. “Maybe once Lady Edelwane leaves this sorta work to her cooks.”

“Find her efforts charming myself.” Althein popped it into his mouth, crunching away. “Very savoury.”

“Right…that all?”

“So eager to leave? Got a lady friend waiting for you?”

He shook his head, cutting string bindings with a penknife. “Naw, gotta tend to my boy.”

“You do like your wyverns, huh.” Althein leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose, before ending another man’s whole career with a quick signature. “Well, go on then. Trust you’re ready for tomorrow’s conference?”

“Are you ready?” Aelious grinned, snapping his penknife into his inner pockets again. “Not gonna run off partway through to vomit in the toilet?”

Althein smiled back, his other tendencies showing. “Not till I see the Immolis-Solaris family reunion, at least.”

“Don’t get too excited, yeah? I’m sure both of them aren’t inept enough to forget their manners in the middle of a Lords’ meeting.”

“Eh, I’ve got high hopes for Drakus.” Althein said, settling his attention wholly upon the books. “Fellow’s making some fun waves, that’s for sure.”

Aelious strode out, waving behind him. “So long as those waves don’t start a war.”

“Not interested in glory upon the battlefield?”

"Naw, I'll just fly over to Nolore.

---

Being the artery of trade that it was, Harrow’s Keep featured one of the larger outposts that House Aureolin owned, a three-story building on the western side of town, with a stable large enough to fit an excess of fifty wyverns at once. Having arrived at Harrow’s Keep last night, the Aureolin Lord and Heir had naturally lodged themselves on their own property, and their wyverns and escort similarly took advantage of the outpost’s spacious accommodations. It wasn’t particularly luxurious, but House Aureolin wasn’t one for down bedding and silk sheets. They had been nomadic herders before they had ascended to the continent-spanning communications baron they were now, and really, the hustle and bustle of the outpost was much more to Aelious’s tastes than the rigidity of the estate. Couriers of all ranks rushed in and out of the building with their orders, and gray-scaled wyverns bearing loads of letters burst out from the pits to fly across the mountain ranges. On one side of the staircase that Aelious descended, rows of landline operators flicked switches and plugged cords, directing calls all around the Empire, while on the other side, artisans carved out print molds for illustrations, already preparing for tomorrow’s edition. If he had waited another hour or two, he’d probably hear some pretty colorful language between editors and reporters too…but that was Althein’s headache.

Aelious had his boy to take care of.

The wyvern stables had been formed from digging into the ground itself, with a set of elevators made to allow humans to easily ascend and descend. A pungent stench was infused into the air itself, powerful enough to knock out the unprepared, but Aelious had long become accustomed to the smell of the scaled beasts. Generations of attempts at removing the odor of wyvern shit had ended in failure, and after those decades of prideful folly and wasted effort, it was deemed easier for humans to plug their noses than to make shit not smell like shit. At least it was quiet in the pits; unlike chickens, the wyvern’s genetic cousin, wyverns didn’t find any particular reason to be inanely clucking all the time.

Descending from the lift, Aelious nodded at a couple of the stable lads as he circled the stables, his mismatched eyes flickering from one pen to the other. Straw was dry, the caves were spacious, and he could smell the tang of fresh blood too. Good. It wasn’t indicative of long term treatment, but at least the employees at Harrow’s Keep were impeccable while Lord Aureolin was here. His hand traced the side of the cobbled wall, before he stopped at the pen of his own beloved beast. Freecloud, the proud member of the fastest subspecies amongst the Aureolin mixed-breeds. More angular than his natural cousins, his smooth scales shone a ghostly white within the comforting darkness of the stables. Crimson flecks marred the purity of its lower jaw, and Aelious laughed, using the hem of his dark cloak to clean Freecloud off. He’ll give the stable lads a tip later. Nothing better than seeing his boy be fed well.

“Might even be spoiling you, huh?”

The white wyvern rubbed his head against Aelious’s own, steamy breath tickling his hair. He flexed his wings tentatively, but even the capacity of the Harrow’s Keep pens were insufficient to contend with Freecloud’s wingspan. The Heir grinned at this, before gesturing towards the wyvern.

“How ‘bout we do some sightseeing, partner?”

Aelious had a full day before he was going to be locked up in the battle arena with fourteen other Lords and Heirs. May as well enjoy the last day of peace they may all have, cause tomorrow…tomorrow may be war.

A steely gaze burned in his mismatched eyes as he stared up at the skies, a silent prayer for peace.

Then he broke off into laughter.

“Definitely gonna stop reading penny fiction.”

𝕆ff the ℂoast

---

Closer. Closer. Closer…

As the Ironmaw approached, Tobias could feel his heart rate beginning to rise. His blood tingled in anticipation of the fight ahead. Victory and satisfaction was so close…

The Ironmaw looked just as it had been described- a ship forty meters long, with three decks, plated in metal. He could see stolen railguns mounted below decks, jutting out slightly from the ship’s sides. No matter. The attacking force would come too close for the guns to be of any use.

On the main deck, a sizable group of pirates chattered and laughed, jovially discussing their bounty. Sickening. These men who killed for the sake of self-gain brushed off the deaths of innocent people like a servant cleaning a bookshelf with a duster. The Ironmaw drew closer. They were within twenty meters.

Tobias lifted his hands to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, the harsh sound slicing through the air.

The three boats unveiled their illusory disguise and blasted at full steam towards the Ironmaw. Caught unawares by the facade, the pirate ship took the full ramming force of each.

Tobias leapt from Kiana and onto the Ironmaw, sword ready. He managed to slice the stomach of one scoundrel and engage another in combat before any resistance could be mustered. The navaliers followed him onboard. Several of the pirates still reeling from the ambush were cut down immediately. A few others had their wits about them, and quickly began to retaliate. Soon, the entire deck of the Ironmaw was swarming with combat.

Tobias deflected his opponent’s curved blade, then incapacitated the man with a quick stab through the chest. All around him, pirates were falling. He had instructed his men to take as many prisoners as possible.

A tremor ran through Tobias, signaling the use of magic. He spun and noticed a pirate dressed slightly more importantly than everyone else: Byron Halifax, the pirates’ only magic user. He was a powerful one, too. Tobias watched as the man hurled blazing flames towards the navaliers, expertly avoiding his own crew with the deadly embers. In the brief lull of battle, Tobias could almost appreciate the man’s skill with his gate. In another world, the man could have been a celebrated soldier.

But not this world. Tobias pointed and whistled at the mageborn, signalling the mages on the boats to target him with their magic. He raised his sword and charged.

hello

ℍouse ℙachel

---

Jevin Pachel groaned softly as he stretched, throwing off the warm blankets. The beds in Harrow’s were far too soft for his liking. The best resting place was a firm surface and a cool headrest, not the pillow-saturated sheets of a four-poster king-size bed.

Still, any bed was better than nothing, especially when Livia was concerned. He looked over at her sleeping form, still wrapped up under the covers. A small pang of guilt tinged his chest, but he pushed it aside. He was in too deep now. Pachel grabbed his clothes off the floor, and hastily smoothed out the folds and creases before dressing himself.

Livia wasn’t stirring, so he took the time to inspect the room properly. Earlier, when the two had rushed in for a quick afternoon nap, he hadn’t the time to properly examine the room. Regardless of his opinion of the bed, the rest of the suite was furnished exquisitely. A masterful rendition of Golovan Harrow hung on the far wall. The fluffy carpet between his toes was woven with all the care and skill of a master weaver. Several gemlights rested in their little alcoves, bathing the room in a pleasant glow. Pachel sat down on one of the chairs in the living room and simply took it all in. He heard the shower turn on in the restroom. What a delightful invention, allowing one to clean oneself without all the hassle of drawing up a bath. Pressurized water! Truly wondrous.

So many things that the North can teach us. But how much will it cost? Will we fight and bicker about power for another hundred, two hundred years? Who is man to decide the values of another? If only...

Pachel wandered in his thoughts for a little, then shook his head and stood up. He was getting old. Such introspection was the job of scholars and philosophers, not soldiers.

And yet, why was a soldier such as he partaking in the talks? The consideration of number figures was hardly his strong suit. In his youth, he spent more time considering lady figures instead. In his youth…

Well, we’re seeing the start of a new era, what with all these up-and-coming heirs. Eric, Alexander, Carrey…

Of course, he couldn’t neglect young Ruel. Fourteen! Pachel hadn’t taken up the mantle until he was almost thirty-two, let alone as a teenager! He only hoped that the child would fill his cabinet with capable men. Pachel had made the mistake long ago of giving far too much power to those who cared only about themselves. House Pachel had paid the price for that foolishness.

That was all in the past. He needed to focus on the present. The talks were tomorrow, and he had already spent his afternoon on enjoying himself. The other lords would be arriving shortly.

I suppose I’ll go and meet with some of them…

pogchamp

ℍouse 𝕊eler

---

Unsurprisingly, House Seler was very late. Not only were they the furthest from the tower in terms of location, they also had a last minute addition to their entourage. This addition made its existence very known as the door of the carriage swung open and Verity Seler stepped out. Even with her cool composure, it was clear her patience was being tested. Veer stormed out next, swearing under his breath.

In a much better mood, Vector Seler. He looked delighted to be there. “Stupendous! Our first family outing in years, and it's here! Aren’t you excited, kids?”

“Why is he here?” Veer hissed to his sister.

“You are on the seaside. The water is is ankle deep. The sand is between your toes.”

“Verity?”

“The sand is between your toes. It feels wonderful.”

“Useless! Both of you.”

“You know, I came here when I was younger. I really hated it - you see, I was very young, like you. A total fish out of water! You’ll come to enjoy it. But now I realise how wonderful the architecture is! This reminds me of my time in Sikesse. Really, this building would fit right in there.”

“The waves lap at your shins. You feel calm here. There is nothing wrong with this place. The wind is blowing.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! Gah, can’t this wait until we get inside!”

The guards looked scared to inspect the Seler carriage. It wasn’t long until they found an entire sword stashed away under the seat. A little more time and they found many more.

“No, leave them. They’re for emotional support,” Verity said, not even bothering to turn around and look. “This place has an observatory, doesn’t it? Then, Veer, I’d like you meet me there once you’ve unpacked. We must… strategise. Does that sound good?”

“Absolute- I’ll be there, Verity. Just make sure this stonge doesn’t come along, yeah?”

“I’ll deal with him, don’t you worry. I’m sure what little attention span he has left can be occupied by something.”

“Are you two listening? You better be, brats. I haven’t had the time to tell you about my latest trip. I met with Sikesse- him… them… I met with Sikesse. He was so short! Oh, but that doesn’t matter. I saw the most beautiful Akeshan woman. She had these lovely golden eyes, like the evening sun on a calm sea, with hair that was such a beautiful grey…”

pogchamp

𝕋imeslots

---

Each PC gets 2 timeslots to use - collab with a GM to talk with NPCs and explore areas.

Eska

---

The crunch from the salty baked meat was satisfying.

The meat from the man's belly was roasted perfectly, and after the first roasting with salt on it and pricking the more fatty skin with her knife, she managed to get it to a perfectly roasted on the inside, with a crunchy golden outside. Slightly burnt, but it was tasty and juicy. It tasted very similar to pork, so perhaps she could sell some of those sausages she made with the man's innards to a butcher tomorrow. The head was already dehaired, and roasted perfectly well, with Jiko munching contently on the cheeks. The tin pot was simmering slowly with some grains, and the tougher cuts of meat for tonight.

What she cannot use was buried under the tree on her house, and with everything else done for today...

"Jiko, I'm going out. Watch over the pot for me."

Getting only a noncommittal grunt as answer, she set out, towards a certain meadow she found deeper in the forest.

@GreenGoat


“I’m telling you, we need to go looking!” Lendal smacked his hand against the scarred wooden table the group used for drinking. ”Kendrick’s been gone for way too damn long.”

The straw-haired teen continued. “If he’s been chained up by that beastman, who knows what the fuck’s gonna happen to him?” The three had been waiting in town for several hours for Kendrick to return from his punishment. He’d left in the morning, after losing a drinking game.

“Relax, Len,” Ema said. “It’ll be fine. He’s probably seduced her or something, and they’ve just spent the time enjoying themselves, you know? By the way, I wouldn’t mind…” she moved her hand onto Lendal’s.

“Yeah right. Kendrick hates beastmen more than a farmer hates drought. He’d sooner stick his penis in a bramble bush,” said Coln. The dark-haired teenager pulled out a band and tied his hair into a knot. “Still, he might need our help.”

“I’ll grab my stuff,” said Lendal, turning away from the table. “Damn it all. We should have chosen a more suitable dare. Messing with a beastie might have been a bad idea…”

”What’ll we do when we find her?” asked Ema.

”Give it back what it deserves for wasting our damn time. Maybe get it sold for some coin or something.” Lendal shrugged. ”Might as well get something good out of this whole wreck.”

---

“Are we there yet?” Ema asked. “I think the Sun’s starting to go down.”

“Are you sure you know which way it is, Coln? I can’t even see the path anymore.”

“Absolutely. Trust in my intuition.”

“Your intuition?! Coln, you’ve led us an hour out of town off your fucking intuition?!”

The three were lost. Horribly, horribly lost. They’d left the town a few hours before sundown, but some rapidly descending cloud cover combined with the canopy overhead had darkened the area far faster than expected. Worse yet, Lendal could feel the humidity sticking his shirt to his skin. It was going to rain soon. Hard.

There was still no sign of Kendrick. Lendal unshuttered his gemlantern. The light cast an ethereal glow around them, illuminating the bushy undergrowth. He swapped his club to his left hand.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit! Fuck!” Lendal kicked a nearby tree. It shuddered slightly, then deposited a large centipede on his shoulder.

Ema screamed.

“Get it off! Get it off!” Lendal began to shake violently in an effort to dislodge the critter. The centipede, two feet long and completely unaware of its situation, clung on for dear life. Lendal could feel its pincer-like legs clinging to his arm. It crawled up his arm, towards his face.

Coln slashed it off with his dagger. The two halves dropped to the ground, writhing, before eventually laying still.

“What the fuck, man? You nearly killed me!” Lendal collapsed to the ground, heart pounding through his chest. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“I saved you, dumbass.”

“You just about cut my face off! Another centimeter to the left and my fucking arm would be flopping on the ground like that goddamn bug!”

“Guys-”

“You’re exaggerating, Lendal. It wasn’t that close.”

“Guys-”

“It fucking was! Watch where you stick your dagger next time!”

“Guys. Look.” Ema grabbed both of them by the arm and dragged them over to the entrance to a small clearing at the base of a hill. By the dim light of the gemlantern, they could make out a massive tree perched atop it, and a small house under its roots. ”We found it.”

Lendal sighed in relief. “About time.” He approached the house.

“Wait,” said Coln. “We don’t know what’s-”

Above them, a thunderclap boomed, shaking the leaves and dirt. A wall of rain began to descend, threatening to soak through everything they carried.

In a rare act of solidarity, the three rushed into the hut and closed the door behind them.



The gemlantern was beginning to run out. Lendal cursed his luck. The light infuser hadn’t come round to his house last week, saying something about unpaid dues. Bullshit. Lendal always paid people back. It had to have been his parents.

Still, under its dying light, the three could make out most of the room within. Standing at the entrance, the house was somewhat small. A small cooking pit lay in the center, and Lendal could barely see the remains of a cookfire within it. A pot lay in the center.

The three stepped forward. A light sensation brushed the back of Lendal’s neck. He swung around. It was a feather. Multiple animal bones and feathers hung from the ceiling, suspended by string.

“Kendrick? You here?” Ema called softly. No response.

The gemlight gave out, plunging them into complete darkness.

“Hey, I found something, it feels kinda… squishy?” Coln said, his voice coming from somewhere to Lendal’s right.

“Hold on, I have a matchbox. Let me…” Lendal reached into his pouch. Success. The taut sheepskin bag had protected it from the rain. He lit a match and held it up.

Kendrick’s lifeless face greeted him, eyes bulging and cheeks slashed off. Even without hair, Lendal recognized the slightly crooked nose and scarred forehead. Some dried blood caked his chin. He was missing both ears.

Lendal froze. Ema screamed and backed up into the remains of the fire, spilling whatever was in the pot all over the floor. Coln swore and dropped Kendrick’s head. It hit the ground with a sickening thunk.

Something stirred in the darkness.

“Eska? Are you finally ba-”

Without thinking, Lendal reacted by swinging his club as hard as he could in the direction the voice came from. It connected with something hard, sending a crack throughout the room. A thump sounded as a body hit the floor.

Ema screamed again. The coals had caught flame once again, fueled by the linens of her clothing. Steam hissed as the water in her clothes evaporated and dissipated. Coln rushed over and pushed her off the flames, then poured whatever was left in the pot over her. Another hiss, then silence that was quickly broken by Ema retching her dinner out onto the floor. She coughed, then slowly got up.

Lendal lit another match. He had knocked out some sort of beastman, though he wasn’t quite sure. It looked rather green. Without words, he began to drag the body towards the entrance.

Still in a pseudo-trance, the other two followed him out the door, and away from the horrors within the small hut.

Eska

---

She had wanted to gather a few more herbs and some more flowers, but was instead rained on, and went home miserable and wet. At least there was the thought of some warm stew for her dinner tonight. Almost as soon as she arrived however, the smell of the food seemed a bit strong, even if Jiko was sneaking a bite without her noticing. Almost as if...

Rushing in, Eska could piece together what had happened. Jiko would never leave food unattended, especially if it spilled, and judging from the other scents in the air, there were other people in here, at least three. Her eyes narrowed to a slit, her ears flat against her head as anger started to well up. She may have been exiled, but she was still of Clan Emmeret, she was still predator, still a shaman. To be wronged in such a way was beyond reprehension. Her entire tribe would have risen up in arms, and waged war upon the offender immediately.

Gathering her wits around her, she bounded silently on the tracks they left behind, following them as they traveled outside of her territory. They didn't even bother to hide their tracks. Was this an act of provocation? In a short amount of time, she reached a large settlement, of which she could only describe as a very large tribe. Satisfied with what she found, she returned, to prepare for what was coming.

From the large yew tree, she prepared her armor, shaping bark with her song, light, yet with a hardness to rival steel. With her song, she prepared the warring mask, the shaman's mask, to denote she was the negotiator. The red feathers on it signaled she was ready for war. And lastly, she made two identical stone axes, both tied with a single piece of red ribbon on the haft, before she cut them in two. One, she threw on the large yew tree, for a grudge that will forever cut deep. The second, she will keep, to present to their chief, their head, to show that they had done wrong.

An hour later, she finally returned, this time perched on the highest vantage point she could find on the town, before shooting the red ribboned axe towards the most important looking building's door she could see. It was slightly cheating, considering she was supposed to hurl it at their feet, but this was an acceptable solution. She knew perfectly well that if she strolled in the front door of the town right now, she'd be accosted by just the sight of her tail and ears.

Thus now, she waited. Should the chief be interested with negotiation, they would go out of their settlement with at least a few of their retinues to continue negotiation. Anything else, and that meant the chief was not interested in negotiations, and war can commence properly.

ASTER NOLS with ELISE DALRIS - Harrow's Keep: In Town

Collab with @Aviaire

---

For Miro, exotic jams. There were a range of peppered ones on the third lane, he was sure to enjoy it.

For Leesa, seeds from north of the range. To sate her completionist tendencies rather than whatever fascination she held for the region, Aster assumed. Or hoped, at least.

For Pa… um. Businessmen liked pens, didn’t they? There were some nice pens around here somewhere. All glossy and professional-like.

And for Carrey.

Aster dragged the last piece of meat from the skewer, flavor and texture barely registering. The object of her focus lay on a cushion before her, the centerpiece of a craftsman’s stall. A ball-jointed wyvern posed stoically. Two hand spans from the snout to the tip of the tail, Aster guessed. Exquisitely carved and polished.

“Taking a hard look, aren’tcha?” the stall-owner drawled.

A shrug. “Sure. How ‘bout that lad in the middle there?”

“Twenty-five middlers.”

“Twen— Hah!”

Aster threw her head back and guffawed. Quite obnoxiously.

The street was packed with people, which was no surprise. What was unusual was the commotion from higher up, that was slowly making its way down to Aster. Up the street was the approaching figure of Elise Dalris, laughing maniacally as she ran through the crowds. It awkwardly parted for her, causing people to crash into each other and spill whatever they were holding. She didn’t really seem to care.
It wasn’t long before she was even closer. She was holding her trailing dress off of the ground, revealing her heels that she shouldn’t be able to run in - but she was. Elise spotted Aster, and called out. “Oh! Miss Esmerelda! How wonderful to see you, why, it’s been-”

She stopped much nearer. She walked down to Aster, frowning a little. “You look… very young, don’t you? Oh, you’ve got to tell me what you use for your skin. Especially since Nols is so sunny!” She paused. She looked around. “Uh, you are Miss Esmerelda, aren’t you?”

Aster’s mouth clamped shut at the noble. The noble approaching her. The noble approaching her at a very alarming speed-- Goddess, have mercy!

She felt the disapproving specter of her father’s hand shove her head into a stiff bow.

“N-Not at all, m’lady. I’m--I am Aster Nols of the Ethra Company,” she declared, watching her speech now. And from this position, watching the noble’s footwear too. Gosh, she sped here in those cloppers?

Not important, Aster. The noble made a request.

“And, far as I can… recollect, Esme--Lady Esmerelda uses one of Kiehl’s herbal concoctions. It’s the region’s leading parfumerie. They’re making plans to expand to Granis mid-Brilia.”

“Ethra… oh, I know what that is,” Elise replied, looking thoroughly confused. “A Nols branch, I presume, how quaint! To bring the family… I should’ve done that too. Though House Aureolin is close enough. What inspired her to bring you along, I wonder?”

As she spoke, Elise glanced up the street she had just raced down, eyes darting back and forth. She looked a little jumpy, tapping her fingers against her waist impatiently.

“Bring along?” Aster must really not have looked the part of a noble’s entourage. Which was kind of the point. Whatever. “Oh, no, I’m here at P--my father’s request.”

“Well, that’s just…” Elise trailed off, sounding distracted. “Here, of all places? Surely you have something to do with Miss Esmerelda. Why, my own branch family would never come near me without good reason. I suppose my natural superiority must intimidate them, yes - but it’s not as she’s any more meek than I am!”

“Ahah. Hah. Yes.” Aster attempted a laugh. That was a joke she was making, right? Aster learnt that the key to shooting the breeze with nobility was to just lean into the flow and agree with whatever they were saying, so… “Ayup, Esmerelda can be a real cow sometimes!”

Elise quirked an eyebrow. She looked rather amused. “Oh, but that’s-” she stopped. “Well, Miss Est- Aster, it’s been a real pleasure, but uh, I was just wondering if we could take this chat somewhere else? Why, this street sure is… crowded.”

“You want to… w-with me?”

This was starting to become a difficult position. The noblewoman - Dalris, Aster remembered her picture in the newspaper now - was absolutely right about being intimidating, as if her mere status wasn’t enough trouble for the drover. As much as she desperately wanted to scamper away, there was no way Aster was permitted to refuse a superior. Pa would have her head if she did it for no good reason.

“Oh, that’d be swell--uh, lovely, but I was just in the middle of…”

She turned back to the stall-owner, who was now bearing his ultimate customer service face at the two women. What on Teliv was this guy so cheery for?

“Nobility! If I’d known earlier… oh, dear Goddess!” He grabbed the wyvern and practically shoved it to Aster. “Here, eighty percent discount. No, just take it!”

Damn you, craftsman.

“Gee. Thanks.” She dropped a handful of middlers on the wyvern’s former perch and tried not to look too disappointed when she turned back to Dalris. “I s’pose my shopping is done. Did you have a place in mind, Lady?”

Elise reached for Aster’s wrist and pointed at an alley a little further down the street. “Come on now. Quickly!”

"W-Whatever you wish--woah!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Elise gave Aster a harsh tug before she started running again. Slower than before, but still very quickly. When they rounded the corner, Elise’s bodyguard, Leras, could be seen shoving through the crowds and calling out her name. Elise was cackling.

Into the alley they went, past a bin where someone was making bird noises, left, right, left, and so on. They eventually stopped near the edge of the keep, near some houses. Elise wasn’t out of breath at all. She was still laughing. “Oh, Miss Leras really is a prude. A lady must have fun from time to time - stress is awful for your skin, you know.” She released Aster and kicked at a stone on the ground. “Who cares about safety when you’re in a place like this? Why, if I didn’t have complete faith in the tower’s security, I wouldn’t be here.” From where they were, the tower was fully visible. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here, have you? My, my.”

Aster was still panting from the sprint. She could see the Keep's outer wall from here. How far had they run?

"I… I'm not sure what you mean. Pa--my father sent me here to drive the Lady's carriage to the rail station once the talks are done."

Elise scoffed, continuing to walk around, motioning for Aster to follow her. She had no idea where she was. “Rail stations… oh, those barbaric things.” There were fewer people here, but still quite a few. A couple came down the street, one of them complaining loudly about beastmen. Others were scattered around, having their own conversations. Elise continued. “How typical of House Nols. Surely, they are insecure of their position, and-”

She whipped her head around to look at Aster. “Say, what has your… Ethra Company been up to lately?”

These questions were starting to pile up. “Well, my father is home, preparing for the Solstice Ball. Leesa’s been setting up a scholarship program with Teglo. Solaris’ cattle routes are almost finalised and I can pretty much say the same for the new naval routes… Speaking of which, Seler was supposed to send a response weeks ago… Ah, I s’pose we’ll have to wait a bit longer with everything going on.”

Aster seemed lost in thought before finishing her report. “The Ethra Company does publish a bi-annual newsletter, i-if you’re interested in that.”

“Don’t worry, there’ll be nothing in there I don’t already know.” Elise swatted her hand. “How ordinary you are! Truly, it’s adorable. That’s just how commoners are, isn’t it? At least you’ve got the Nols name going for you.”

Ahead of them, there seemed to be quite the commotion. “Oh? What’s this?” Elise said. “This doesn’t seem like the kind of place where much happens, does it?” It was a little ways off, but she craned her neck in an attempt to see what was going on. Judging from her expression, she couldn’t tell.

Any semblance of courtesy from Aster was rapidly diminishing. Insecure? Ordinary? Adorable? See, this - this was what always happened with these types.

“What can I say?” Her cheeks felt strained. “Commoners.”

The Lady did make a point. It seemed quite the ruckus for a small town. Aster marched forward to take a look, not waiting for Dalris to follow.

Elise hummed indignantly, following up soon after. A group of people were crowded around something but it was easy enough to see through. In the center of the crowd were two men - one holding the other by his shirt, screaming at him. Scathing words accompanied by spit.

“You hear me, you disgusting piece of shit! Don’t ever get near my wife again, I tell you!”

The other man replied in a calmer voice. “Sir, I was just asking her a question-”

“Don’t you talk like that to me, you damned beastman,” the angry man screeched. He wasn’t wrong - the man he was holding was evidently not human. His light clothing revealed feathery patches on his body, combinations of yellow and orange. Upon a closer look, these were accompanied by sharp claws, talons, and even teeth. Among the crowd of Croanians, he looked sorely out of place. “I know what your kind do!”

Aster grimaced. She was no stranger to spats like these, isolation could do pull all sorts of tricks on outdoorsmen like her and her team. There was little excuse here. The man was a loon for making such a scene and the beastman made a mistake coming here. Should have known better, should’ve known how people treated animals like him here.

Hm. That wasn’t true. Even animals were appreciated more than this.

“What a mess.” Aster clicked her tongue, unmoving.

The crowd jeered. The beastman grimaced. “If you’ll let me go, sir, I’ll be on my way. I swear to you, I’ll leave shortly.”

“Why, you…” the man hissed. He released the other man only to punch him across the face. Cheers filled the street. A woman stepped forward, tentatively placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Dear, let’s...” She attempted to diffuse the situation, but she seemed more concerned for her husband than for the beastman.

He shrugged her off. “Not now, Aima. You gonna fight me, huh? Or you gonna take it like a coward? You’re gonna wish you never came here, bastard!”

Elise yawned. “Oh, how irritating. Picking fights in the middle of the street? Why, it’s best to just ignore that kind, isn’t it?” She stood a few metres away from the crowd, watching what was unfolding on her tiptoes. She seemed unwilling to come any closer.

“Aye,” Aster frowned, wincing at the sound of the impact. “What’re you going to do?”

Fights were inevitable but pummeling anything while they were down was a whole different matter.

“Nothing, of course. These kind of things tend to end themselves.” The corners of Elise’s lips turned up. “If you want to intervene, I wouldn’t mind. In fact, that would be.... yes, entertaining.”

The man punched the beastman again. “Speak up, bastard! I can’t hear you!”

The beastman scowled. He was sounding more and more agitated as he continued speaking. “Please listen to me, I’m looking for my sister and she-”

Another hit. Elise hummed a tune to herself. Aster’s eyes widened. The beastman recoiled, choking.

“Don’t lie! You motherfucker! Everyone knows beastmen don’t have families! I bet you just wanna take advantage of us and then… and then rob us, bastard!” Everyone else seemed to agree with that, as far reached as it might be.

That beastman was going to end up dead soon. Aster rolled her shoulders. “Hmph. If it’s entertainment the Lady is after…”

She’d give her a show. The drover shoved her way forward and bellowed airily. It was the same tone she used to direct her men across the thousands of miles that spanned Croania. “Gosh, what a sight! I’ve roamed all over, from Seler to Aureolin, and let me tell ya, I have never - never! - seen balls the size of yours, good man.”

She slapped a hearty hand on the aggressor’s shoulder. Confidence and unearned familiarity.

“The reins’ve really slackened in Eckels’ musty hands, eh? Look at y’all squabbling like monkeys in an open street. In front of nobility, no less!”

Aster took a meaningful glance at the towering woman.

“How… What was that word from before, Lady Dalris? Irritating? Naw.”

She turned back to the man and smiled like she was looking at a child eating paint.

“Adorable.”

The crowd shrunk back at Aster’s words, parting ever so slightly until the man was face to face with Elise. She grinned and gave them a small wave. Murmurs rippled around before the crowd began to dissipate. People muttered farewells to each other and awkwardly shuffled away. The man looked furious. Before the last of the crowd had disbanded, he turned back to the beastman in an attempt to get one last blow in.

He missed. The beastmen easily dodged it. “Go home,” he said. His voice was cool yet filled with anger. “My Lady… I don’t have the time for this…” Giving a grateful nod to Aster, he scurried off, only to be caught by Elise. She looked at the place where she had grabbed his shirt with mild disgust, though her cheerful expression soon returned.

“Oh, but could you spare some time for another lady?” she said. “I don’t think I’ve met one of your kind before! Why, it would be rude to leave so soon, correct?” Elise released him. He made no attempt to leave, but he gritted his teeth. “Well, why don’t you introduce yourself, Miss Aster?”

"Aster Nols. Ethra Company," she responded, still wary though she was no longer in danger of soiling herself. How long was this ordeal going to take?

“Wonderful. Elise Dalris myself, though I’m sure you knew that already. As for you?”

The beastman shuffled. “...Ephraim. You know, I really should go, I really really need to find my sister.”

“Better to let him go, Lady. Wouldn’t want you spotted fraternising with a beastman.”

Elise frowned. “Oh, that’s right, isn’t it? I’d almost forgotten.” She squinted a little, tilting her head. “He almost looks like a human if you look at him at the right angle.” She held her hand up in front of her face. “Isn’t that fun?” She spoke slowly, as if to draw out the conversation out for as long as she could. She was enjoying it, too.

The beastman frowned. “Thank you very much for your help, Lady Nols. Lady… Dalris,” he added. He continued speaking, much faster than Elise was. He looked like he was getting ready to run somewhere. “If I might… in case you happen to come across my sister - Euphemia, she is - if it wouldn’t be too much of a problem, take her to the house right next to the keep gate, then I’ll be out of-”

“Elise!” The woman in question froze up. The voice of her bodyguard called out, and she knew for sure she was caught. She’d spent so much time watching the fight and agitating the beastman that Leras had caught up. She turned stiffly. Ephraim mumbled another thanks to Aster and bolted before Elise got the chance to turn around. She looked most displeased.

Leras rushed up to Elise, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Eli- Lady- Miss Dalris,” she settled on. “What were you thinking? I can’t believe you! Who is this woman? For all you know, she’s taking you home so that she can-”

Elise pushed Leras off of herself. “You’ve ruined the fun,” she whined. “I was having such a brilliant time.”

“Fraternising with suspicious folk is not fun. That’s how you get killed!” They both turned to Aster.

“Oh, Miss Aster isn’t suspicious. Right?” Elise said.

The blonde's frown twitched.

“No, no.” Aster rolled her eyes. “I was definitely about to take you home to do… whatever you were saying. Ayup.”

Leras grabbed onto Elise’s wrist with narrowed eyes. “That’s what they all say. Next thing you know you’re taking them to House Immolis for the chopping block.”

“You know, you really are overreacting! Me and Miss Aster were just having the most wonderful time.”

A harsh tug, and Leras began to lead the taller woman off. As they started walking, she turned and spoke to Aster. “Stay out of trouble,” she said. “And I better not see you around Miss Dalris again, got it? She’s troublesome enough on her own…” Off the two went. Elise gave Aster a smirk before she returned to whining at Leras. The bodyguard seemed to be used to Elise’s antics. And then Aster was left alone. The drover gave a small wave, out of courtesy rather than interest, and remarked to no one.

“She’s not even my type.”

𝕋aft

---

“He’s… dead?”

Kendrick’s father, Yamarr, leaned back in his seat. The three in front of him had burst into his home, soaked to the core and blubbering about monsters and beastmen and disembodied heads. He would have turned them away, but he was still the mayor of Taft. It was his duty to hear out the problems of his citizens.

Truth be told, Yamarr wasn’t too shaken up by Kendrick’s death. The little shit had it coming. Born out of wedlock, it was only because of some unsafe copulation and a drunken stupor that the kid came into being. Even though Yamarr had never given his son too much notice, leaving him to his wife, the kid had somehow gotten it into his head that, as the son of the mayor, he was more important than the rest of the teenagers. He used to spend each evening drinking before he was banned from every pub in town. Kendrick had resorted to petty theft after that. Nobody really dared to report it, but nobody really knew that Yamarr would have happily put his son in jail if one goddamn person had filed a report.

Kendrick’s mother, on the other hand, was going to make Yamarr’s life a living hell. The woman knew that the only reason she was married to the mayor was because of his guilt over inseminating her eighteen years ago. Now that her beloved little stonge was gone, he’d happily get rid of their vows and escape his current hell.

Still, it hadn’t gotten to that point yet. He had to deal with the three shitheads standing in front of his desk, dripping all over his hardwood floor. The girl, Ema, had the smell of vomit about her, and chunks of what looked like meat still clung to her singed clothes. The other two were just wet, even after using a towel to dry off.

“Kendrick is dead,” Coln said. “I picked up his head with… with my hand.” Even if he was one of the apprentice hunters of Taft, he was still 18. He probably couldn’t stand blood and gore well, especially that of his good friend.

Lendal bowed his head. “We’re so sorry, sir. We weren’t able to find him in time, and he was just… just…”

Yamarr shook his head. “Son, you did what you could. I’ll do my best to bring justice to the monster who did this.”

“That’s-that’s the thing, sir,” Ema said. It was the first time she’d spoken since she entered the house. “We already caught it. Well, Lendal did.”

“You… what?” Yamarr put on a face of surprise, even though, internally, he was rejoicing. Two birds with one stone. Kendrick was gone AND Yamarr wouldn’t have to file a report. “Well, where is it?”

The three looked at each other.

“We, um, sold it, sir.” Lendal tossed a sack of coins on the desk. At least a hundred middlers, for sure.

Yamarr blinked. “You… sold the monster.”

“We should have come to you first, sir. We were impulsive and wanted to get the thing out of our hair immediately. We apologize for preventing you from serving justice, sir.” Coln bowed his head.

Yamarr waved his hand. What luck! He didn’t even have to hold a trial! “It’s fine. Where is it now?”

“Well, the traders had room for one more servant in their wagons, so we gave her up as an indenture. She’s probably on her way to one of the major cities. They left right after we exchanged money. Um, you can keep it, sir. It’s our apology for… for…” Coln began to shake uncontrollably.

Yamarr stood up and patted the youth on his sodden shoulder. “It’s alright. You did what you could. I am going to have to punish you three, though. Understand?”

The three swallowed.

“Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be too severe. Maybe some community service hours. I’m thinking around 20.”

The three looked significantly less downtrodden after that notice. Lendal was almost smiling. They had probably spent the entire walk back home worried about their own skins, rather than mourning for their fallen friend. Well, Yamarr could understand that.

“Alright, now you three get home before your parents-”

A thunk sounded throughout the house. It sounded as if an object had impacted the home with significant force. Yamarr led the three to the front door. Everyone else in the home was asleep. He opened the door to check outside.

An axe, embedded into the mahogany wood of his door. It looked as if it were hewn- no, grown from a tree. A threat?

He looked around. Nobody around. But... there, at the top of Lookout Knoll. A figure, at the perfect height and angle to sling an axe at his door. He could barely make them out through the rain and darkness. Luckily, his eyesight had always been good.

“You three,” he said to the teenagers. “Go contact the sheriff’s office. We have a suspicious figure on our hands.”

(outline: Drakus, Rendyl & Abbi meet Eric

“How has your swordplay been?” Drakus asked with a daring smile. “You appear to still have all your fingers and eyes, you must be practicing with servants, if practicing at all.” He taunted and teased the older man in good jest.

“I still await for you to honour my people and take on a real challenge in my grand arena. Think of all the people that will see you then. The ladies of Solaris just love a good swordshow.”
Drakus bated the man's ego, deliberately and obviously layering his final words with innuendo. He turned to the three women surrounding him and looked to them for final confirmation.

Rendyl had been keeping a posture that lent itself to her slim frame, her feathery limbs tucked firmly into their grooves. She looked up demurely and nodded "Yes, Master. A good sword fight between two skilled opponents is a marvel."

Eric smiled amicably, not seeming to catch on immediately. Then, his expression turned to a pensive frown before he burst out laughing. ”Oh, Lord Solaris! Why, you sly devil, you." His hoard of servants had paused, but he gestured for them to continue inside without him. Even though he was in the presence of so many powerful people, Eric seemed very much at ease. “I’ve been doing my best to stay- well, sharp. Indeed, I have had many opponents from all over Croania, though you’ll you'll find that it is my superior swordsmanship that leaves me in one piece. As for your arena? I may just have to take you up on that.”

Eric patted the sword at his waist. The guards had given up on confiscating weapons almost instantly. Dealing with lords was quite the hassle. “So, how about you? You’ve had quite a hectic time as of late. Not to mention…” Eric trailed off, eventually continuing in a hushed voice. “They’re here as well, are they not?”

Drakus’s frustrated sigh and knitted brows was answer enough. “Sadly it’s true, the duties required to forge and defend a new house do not afford me much time for the endeavour of such a noble art.” he instead replied with what Rendyl knew to be a lie. Despite the heavy burden of his contested Lordship Drakus always made time to practice his sword play, but should he duel Eric again any time soon, he’d rather him think his form was lacking.

He twisted his neck, and shrugged his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension thoughts of them brought to him. “Thank you for the information.” He said softly on a side note. “I know it did not come from your hand directly,” he began but then let the rest trail off unsaid. Drakus’s homework of the talks had come from Eric’s people, at a fair cost of course. “This will be a momentous event for house Solaris.” Drakus added to no one in particular, musing on his own thoughts and concerns, despite his best acting, he did not share in Eric’s nonchalant ease towards the upcoming events. Rendyl slowly maneuvered herself to Drakus's right side and one step behind, listening intently and looking attentively at her Lord.

“Miss smith, please tell Lord Eric of our self playing music box. Eric, we will have to send you one.” He said, changing tone as the long steps came to an eventual end.

Rose gave a bowing curtsy that she had been practicing with Rendyl, whom had been helping her perfect for most of the trip. She had been doing her best to be seen as a decoration as her maid had informed her that Lord Drakus preferred in these types of situations. “My Lord,” she said blushing from being around nobles. She reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a book. She flipped open to a page with her design notes and drawings to show him. “As you can see there is a mechanical drive that is propelled by a spring that has a catch when the latch is closed. This moves the gearing that drives the cylinder that has pins that deflect the tines on the comb that sound the notes. When I am able to access to some better metal and milling equipment. I will be able to produce a much higher quality music box.” She paused, “I think you will like the portable pipe organ we brought as a gift,” she said not sure if that was to be a secret or not.

Fearing Abby’s excitement and detailed information was beyond Eric’s interest, Drakus gave Rendyl a slight subtle sidewards look that she would instantly understand. The Avian slave nodded slightly back and stepped forward, reaching up and gently resting a hand on Abbi's bicep. She leaned close and whispered "A lady must be precise and never babble."

The words would echo back to parts of her lessons Rendyl had been teaching to Abbi, as they were similar to her own rules of conduct. With the bit of advice given, she stepped back into her place at her Lord's shoulder.

Eliona, exceptional in the games of nobles, hid the exchange by drawing Eric’s attention to herself. Being mostly blind led to its own array of accepted social norms. With the stairs having ended she placed a hand around the Granis heirs forearm as she moved close for support and spoke gently.
“I hear there is a nice amphitheater here, will you be visiting, I have never see… visited it before” she corrected.

“Self playing? Why, how wonderfully Northern,” Eric beamed. He didn’t seem to be saying it like it was a bad thing. “You know, our Quan back home would adore one of those. He’s always been rather into music, but it is such an inconvenience to get decent musicians to come over. I keep telling father we should sponsor some, but they- oh, never mind.” He cut himself off mid-way through his rambling. “As for the amphitheatre? I’ve been before, it’s quite wonderful. The benefits of your house being right next to here, I suppose. While you’re here, you really should go down to see it. A beautiful place, it is.”

Abbi’s smile shined the the sun and her cheeks glowed like rose buds in the morning dew, as she bowed again. That was the problem of being a pale skinned redhead, she wore her emotions on her skin. She was pleased enough that she didn’t even think about how much entertainment she was providing with this dress. She was also grateful that Eliona, helped her save face and she thought that Eliona might be a good ally and tutor on the art of the court.

She also felt a little awkward and annoyed. Lord Drakus had asked her to explain about the music box and she had kept it simple. She could have gone into detail about the gearing ratios and how she dealt with the power lost in the drive mechanism. It gave Abbi the feeling that this was going to be a very painful learning process.

Abbi was also delighted she had her first opening at upgrading the university, Lord Drakus had said the northern provinces, but she understood what he said as he wanted the best university. Atleast, that was what she was telling herself. Abbi would work to make arrangements for sending a music box for Quan, with a few different cylinders. It might be a way to get a couple people sent to teach at and students for the University and maybe something for her the lab space. If she could work it out, send some entertainers out on tour as a goodwill gesture. But that part was up to Lord Drakus to decide.

Eric continued speaking. “Introduce me to these lovely ladies, will you? Such a… colourful entourage, I’d have to assume there’s more to them than eye candy - that isn’t to say they aren’t beautiful, of course! Why, that dress is simply bewitching.” He smiled at Abbi, though he gave her and Rendyl an odd look too. “Quite the combination, especially knowing your brother’s… opinions of some kinds of people.”

“I am not my family.” Drakus sharply reminded all. He knew there would be those who attacked him for his company, and even though Eric was not one of them, the notion still set him on guard. The great lengths he had been through to change the people's opinion of Rendyl meant very little here.
“I would not have a lessor guard or inferior item for the sake of old frivolities and out of date customs.” He announced. The condescension and disdain towards his families ways evident in his voice.
“It is in both the Antecedent and the Contemporary, written by the mage Queen herself, we all have a part and a place. There is no reason this wouldn’t include the akeshan or technologists.” He argued, his voice filled with the same vigor and conviction of an argument that had been had a hundred times before.
Still through it all he managed to maintain a smile as he studied Eric’s reaction.

“I truly hope you don’t share my brothers views.” Lightening the mood back up he daringly added “From your reputation I can’t imagine you wield a discriminating sword.” He chuckled in jest patting the man on the back playfully, leaving it all unclear as to if he was being at all serious or not. Eric blinked, but he didn’t say anything.

Moving on, he turned to his companions one at a time as he introduced them. Rolling down the hierarchy.
“This is Lady Elonia, one of the greatest songbirds in all Croania.” She curtsied on time and with more prim and proper grace than most others of the court ever could muster. Every move elegant and smooth, despite her dresses restrictive nature. Even though part of her face was permanently scarred and her eyes of a milky hue, the blind bard held her head up high and proud. Owning her obvious flaws in such a way it leant to her overall appearance and who she was, reflecting them in a much more softer and accepting way.
“She manages many of Sols affairs and is head of the bards college.

“And this beautiful creature is Miss Abbi Rose Smith. Hailing from Young I’m still inclined to believe she may have even more brains than she does endless beauty, so you can understand why I had to appoint her as my technological advisor. She now oversees much of my bookkeeping and production. She has brought great improvements and efficiencies to my city.”

Abbi bowed like an engineer, happy that the dress stayed up, her shoe stayed on, and she did not fall over. Her bag swung around her though shifting her balance. Nerves can do that to a girl.

“Lastly the winged one is Rendyl, captain of my personal guard. She has proved her loyalty and worth more than enough times. There are songs sung of her achievements in the arena. No magi could ever be as suited to her tasks as she.” Drakus made an odd hand gesture, a small seemingly meaningless flourish that at first none would understand.

Rendyl did however, and she obeyed dutifully. She bowed at the waist low, fluffing her wings a bit to make them noticeable, then raised with her fist pressed against the center of her chest. On the back of her hand was a brand in the shape of the Solaris emblem.

Eric quirked a brow. To brand your own servants… even though she was a beastman, it wasn’t something he had the highest respect for. “A capable group, I’m sure. House Granis doesn’t have anything of the sort, though that may have to change.” He frowned, an unusual expression for him. “It all rests on these talks, doesn’t it? We just have to hope the results are favourable.”

He checked behind him. “Ah, I’d better catch up with the rest of my servants. A pleasure meeting you, as well as your ladies.” Eric gave them all a short wave. “Thank you for your time. Oh, and,” he looked Drakus in the eye. “Let’s all work hard to maintain order in Croania, shall we? Infighting does naught but hinder, as my father would say. I’ll be off, then.” He twirled on his heel, walking proudly into the tower. His cape fluttered in his artificial breeze. Eric looked like a bit of a fool, but he really didn’t seem to care. Soon, he vanished into the doorway.

”Peace comes at a price.” Drakus mumbled to himself under his breath as he and lord Eric went their separate ways. It was a lesson all Immolis heirs knew.
Then, giving Abbi and the servants orderly commands he sent them on their way leaving just Rendyl to follow him as he took a casual stroll around the tower, to acquaint himself with their new temporary residence.

The minor library was fairly small, as far as libraries went. There were only 2,500 books in the collection. However, the quality, not quantity, was what Reina sought. There was always enough time to do more research, and being extra prepared for the talks was never a bad idea. Lacking anything better to do, Christina and Reason accompanied her.

Today’s focus was warfare. Reina wished to know exactly how the South would possibly respond to an attack. Just in case. There had been numerous books written about the wars between Ateria and Croania, but most provided scant, if any, detail about the tactics and methodologies of southern generals.

Surprising, considering how much they enjoy patting themselves on the back for their accomplishments.

Still, she was being pessimistic. Nobody wished for war. It was within every single lord’s best interest to avoid conflict. Sure, minor skirmishes may have been inevitable, but most everyone knew that times had changed. Disputes were now settled with a pen and paper, in the courtroom rather than on the battlefield. Humanity had long surpassed the need to beat the snot out of itself in order to resolve its conflicts.

It wouldn’t hurt to be safe.

Reina pulled a few tomes off the shelf and set them on one of the studying desks. A small gemlight illuminated the table.

So inefficient. Electricity is far superior. And yet, they cling to their old ways and refuse to change. When will the South learn?

“Mother, I’m going to take Reason over to the sitting chairs,” said Christina. “We’ll be available if you need us.”

Right. Reason couldn’t read. What a shame. He had such a bright and inquisitive mind, only hampered by his disability…

Reina shook her head and settled into her chair, twirling a lock of hair as she delved into the past…

---

“This, right here, is the miracle that allows the tower to function,” the monk named Mark said. He was pointing at a large metal plate embedded into the floor of the Great Hall. The plate was about 3 meters square, and inscribed on it was a glowing yellow circle. Illegible scribbling lined the inside of the circle, some ancient, forgotten language.

“Former Mage Queen Ishtar constructed these in order to allow movement between each of the floors in the tower. They are powered by pushing magical energy into them, like this.” Mark knelt and placed a hand in the center of the circle. “Anyone with a half-decent favor can operate these. Every Brother can use them as well, and will charge the circle for you. Just say the desired location and it will consume the energy to move you there, provided there is an end portal and you are permitted in the end location. Now, Lady Lapseus, where in the tower do you wish to go?”

“The small library, if you’d please.” Melodia offered a quaint bow towards the monk. She knew better than to mouth off to anyone inside the facility, and remaining off the radar was far more favorable. So her masquerade of a goody two shoes little girl that ruled the northeast was exhumed as usual, crimson sights shutting happily aimed at monk.

“Oh - and before we trans-tele-port, would you mind if I call for my servant? Or would you be able to accompany me, I’m prone to falling.” She batted her eyelashes, any outcome would work - of all things Melodia hated, looking helpless was number one.

“Oh, it is of no effort to me.” Mark offered Melodia his hand. “I will take you there, then return to my duties. I believe Lady Young is already there, and she knows how to operate the circle, so do not worry about returning.”

Melodia accepted his hand and stepped onto the circle. “Minor Library,” said Mark.

The teleportation experience was quite possibly one of the oddest sensations Melodia had ever felt. It seemed as if her entire body was folding into a specific point, then compressed, then unfolded and regurgitated back to the real world. In a flash of light and dancing colors, she found herself on a similar plate in the Minor Library.

Mark led her off the plate and let go of her hand. “This is where I must take my leave, my lady. Please have a pleasant day.” He stepped back on and flashed away.

The Minor Library, while small, was packed to the brim with books. Any space not occupied by shelves was instead a reading table or study area. Only a small nook in the corner gave any breathing room, furnished with some comfortable chairs. A man in a cape and top hat sat with a black-haired woman. The woman was reading aloud.

Across from Melodia, she saw a familiar face studying a book at one of the reading tables. Reina Young had barely changed since Melodia saw her last. Still the long black hair, the youthful skin, the particularly stiff posture in her chair. It was all so familiar, echoing back to their youthful tutoring sessions.

Still a bit flustered by the magical recombobulation that occurs from one dimensional entry point to another, Melodia reaches to the small leather bag strung across her forebody. Plucking out a small metal cylinder from within she would press a button at its side turning the small contraption into a small cane for the petite girl to support herself as she walked out.

Afternoons were the most tiring period of the day, after all, and don’t even ask her about nap time.

Utilizing the metallic cane, Melodia slowly made her way to the familiar face, huffing out her words in a tired fit. “Seems like all the rumors about northern nobility being beautiful immortal women is true, eh?” The Lapsean girl finally made her arrival to the small desk in which the eldest Young nobility sat at. Melodia’s reddened sights gazed comfortably upon Reina, scanning her over with a smirk planted upon her face. “What’cha reading?” A wispy white eyebrow raised in inquisition to accompany the girl’s question.

Reina started, nearly knocking over the gemlight. “Oh, what in-” Her eyes met Melodia’s. “Mel! Oh, it’s been so long!” She stood up and pulled the chair beside her back. “You’re even using a cane now… sit down. I’m just brushing up on some history, don’t mind me. But what’re you doing in this dusty room?”

Melodia offered a nod of genuine appreciation, pressing the button to compress her cane once again and sliding herself carefully into the chair that had been offered. The girl was sickeningly thin, frail, and the small thud that reverberated from the chair would be followed by a very brief grunt as Melodia finally sat down and adjusted herself. “Th-thank you! And it hasn’t been too long - eh, you don’t look much different. Nor do I, but that’s for the world to decipher.” Mel briefly offered Reina a haunting flash of teeth as her lips peeled back for a moment. “But enough of that, yes, I’m likely here for the same reason as you. Research, though - perhaps the larger library may have been better for what I’m looking for. But I found you here! And that’s worthwhile enough.” The Lapsean noble’s expression returned to normalcy, pressing her posture up to peek over at the particular tome Reina had been glancing through.

“Warfare ‘eh?” Melodia bravely pried.

Reina turned red- an odd sight, considering her usual bearing. “Well, erm, I meant to look into the specifics of how Southern strategy plays out, but I can barely find anything. House Pachel probably keeps all those books for themselves. It’s just a… preemptive endeavor. I don’t think it’ll come to this, but it doesn’t hurt to look. Nobody wants war, after all. How are you holding up? I do hope the cane isn’t the start of something even worse. You look far too young to be using something like that.”

Melodia smiled warmly towards Reina, glancing in the direction of the other two occupants within the library. “Regardless of how we look, time continues to pass us by, and biologically everything and everyone is finite.” Melodia’s eyes squinted as she turned her attention back to Reina. “But being preemptive is so very like you, and I’d wager it’s warranted. Maybe we need a good war or two. Maybe some blood being spilt on southern soil would do the world good.” The Lapsean noble tightened her lips and raised her shoulders before leaning into the table and resting her elbows upon its surface.

“How’re the babies doing?” Melodia winked at Reina slyly, goading any sort of reacting from her.

“Oh, well, nothing quite yet. The wedding’s scheduled for the New Year. I do believe that, with how they’re all over each other, we might see real babies soon.” Reina laughed. “Christina thinks I don’t know, but it’s so obvious how she’s all about Reason when she thinks nobody can see. It’s quite cute. But don’t think you can distract me there. I noticed what you said. Have you talked to Arthur yet? He’s the most receptive to comments about conflict.”

Melodia slowly shook her head in reluctance. “I haven’t, you know how much of a recluse I am. Were it possible, I’d shut the borders to my land - clasp my hands together - and wait for my own demise. But I have mouths to feed, family to protect, and power fits my hand like a glove.” The Lapsean shifted in her seat, the small body contorting a bit as discomfort welled up within her body.

“Idle chitchat in hindsight, what’s your game plan with the shitslinging that’s about to occur? I keep a brave face in front of Rhy, but honestly, I’ve had it with the treatment the southerners continue to give us - I’m half pressed to just shut my mouth and act on my own from now on.” Melodia’s tone audibly sharpened and became dry, direct, and serious as the waters of the conversation went from familiar to dangerous and foreign.

Reina sighed. “It’s true that I just want to throw off the chains and do whatever, but I can’t help but feel like peace is a superior option. Times are changing, Mel. I’ve spoken to some of the Southern lords today, and I can’t help but feel like we very well might come out of these talks in a much better situation than before.” She began to count on her fingers. [color=d8cfbe]“Reason is wrapped around Tina’s thumb, Granis has pledged support, Aureolin is somewhat favorable to technological development, and Nols has displayed interest in advanced transportation technology as well. Seler is a wild card. Vector likes his beastmen, but he also doesn’t care for anything more advanced than a sextant. I have no idea of Balaur or Dalris, nor if Solaris’s vote even counts. Regardless, everyone’s more favorable to us than you might think.”[color] She smiled and closed the book.

Mel’s face twisted and contorted as Reina’s words trailed on, from disbelief to disappointment. “So you think now, out of the blue, they’ll begin to increase the livability in the north? The conditions, the disparity, the rights, how about that voting power? If you’re right - I’ll shut my mouth then and there, and begin to play nice. But until then, I shall continue to have my doubts.” Melodia breathed out slowly and slid her hands from the reading desk back down to her lap, allowing her fingertips to tap anxiously along the fabric of her dress.

“Any new research projects - innovations?” She deflected.

Reina frowned. “Don’t change the subject like that, Mel. I heard what you said. They won’t be changing anything. We’re the ones who have to drag the damned conservatives into the future. Unfortunately, they still hold power in more ways than one. Peace is the best option right now. That starts by changing the mindset of those in power, little by little. It’s far too risky to do anything else.” She sighed and laid her head on the table, looking sidelong at Melodia. “I’m so very tired, Mel. So tired. Everything… the prep work, all of it. I wish I could ignore everyone, but I have a duty to fulfill.”

Melodia grunted in response to Reina’s monologue, her discomfort coming to pinnacle as she leaned in and let out a single loud whine as she planted her face into the desk. “So rational. But you’re right, I apologize for my behavior. My age gets the better of my mind sometimes - and to my body, but that’s no excuse.” She slid her face from the wood to look back at Reina, a tired expression mirroring the Young noblewoman’s. “I guess I’ll try to keep my pride in check, even though the southerners never do. I’ll just send them a couple shipments of sugar pills to make myself feel better.”

Reina laughed. “Tell them it cures the common cold. Maybe then we can finally prove that the placebo effect is a real thing.”

Melodia flashed a devilish smile and lifted her head to rest a cheek on her arm. “Or I’ll tell them it’s some groundbreaking antibiotic, and then I’d sip wine as countless innocents died from infection.” The Lapsean’s upper lip raised disgracefully as her twisted tendencies continued to spill out.

“Oh, you. Don’t kid around like that. Now, some of the Southern lords, maybe…” Reina’s expression darkened. “Well, it’s no matter. What are you doing in the evening?”

Melodia’s expression turned to curiosity, a single eyebrow raising and her posture perking up at the question. “I planned on killing time annoying the monks, perhaps running hitting on a young southern heir. Childish nonsense is my only pastime when I’m not in Gohethia - why do you ask?”

“No reason in particular. I got permission from the Queen to use the laboratory. Would you like to join me?” Reina smiled again, this time a devilish smile. The one from long ago, when she was never up to any good.

Melodia’s heart raced for a moment, the rush even catching her so off guard that she got lightheaded for a brief moment. Her eyes would squint at Reina, the crimson hues seeming to lock onto her fellow scientist. “With a look like that, how could I refuse?”

---

Abbi appeared out the other end of the transport circle, disoriented. The tea cup dress was still in place which she worried about. A bit of hair floated in the air and she brushed it back in place. It would take a bit to get used to the whole sensation of instantaneous movement. The monk had brought her across with barely a word while scornfully eyeing her dress. Abbi blushed thinking that the monk was eyeing her, which made her uncomfortable.

She found herself in the Minor Library. Shelves covered every centimeter of the walls. Every space not occupied by the books was instead a study table or reading station. Only a nook in the corner fitted with some comfy chairs gave pause to the cramped space of knowledge.

In front of her, Abbi could see Reina Young engaged in discussion with Melodia Lapseus. The two small women were murmuring to each other quietly. It wouldn’t be a good idea to disturb them. However, Abbi could spot Alexander Reason and Christina Young just sitting and reading.

When Abbi’s wits were in place with her equilibrium, she looked at the monk and nodded thanks. She realized it wasn’t her that he was displeased with, but the dress. She agreed, but she was representing Solaris, so she needed to dress the part. She made her way over to the young couple and using the customs she grew up, she bowed gently as was the custom in Young.

“My Lady and my Lord, might I talk with you?” she asked trying not to have the entire conversation in a single breath. She wanted to make a good impression as she was also representing her university and advisors back in Young. She breathed in the smell of aging leather and paper and it brought her peace.

Christina looked up from her book, On the Basis of Language. “Of course! Sit down, please. Who might you be?” The shorter woman smiled and patted Reason’s hand. “Reason. We have a guest.”

Her fiance nodded and turned in Abbi’s general direction. “Alexander Reason. Pleasure.” He didn’t quite meet Abbi’s eyes, instead seemingly staring off at a point somewhere over her right shoulder.

Abbi smiled to them and sat down.

“I am Ms. Abbi Smith and I recently graduated from the University in Young. My advisor suggested that I take the position as the Technical Advisor for House Solaris. So, I have. One of my tasks that I am assigned with is helping to find instructors to help teach at the university there and to try to help introduce new technology. I was thinking we have two things we can offer. The first is that we are centrally located so we would make a good distribution hub that does not require going over the mountains. The second is that we can use some of our entertainment and media resources to help promote your products and help increase your profits giving you resources for other projects,” she said with enthusiasm and in a single breath.

Christina leaned back, surprised. “Okay. That was a lot. Uh, let’s go through this piece by piece. You’re from Solaris, yeah? And you’re offering advertising and distribution opportunities? What exactly does Solaris want from Young? It won’t exactly put you in the good books of the other mage houses.”

“My lady, I’m one of yours from Young, working for Solaris. My parents were killed in a fire years ago. I am looking for instructors from both your lands for the university in Solaris. As you Lords and Ladies would need to finalize any arrangements, I can only propose what we might be able to do to help. I am just looking at what Solaris does well and how it might be useful to you,” she said smiling an honest smile. “As for the other houses, my Lord let me know that is above my station to worry about.”

“She might want your new music technology,” said Reason. “Gave it a listen, myself. Excellent quality. Take it from a man who only has his ears now.”

“Well, yes, it’s quite nice, but something like that isn’t important enough to facilitate a trade discussion, is it? And when did you get a hold of my player?”

“I found in your drawer.”

“My- Reason, that’s my- don’t ever look in that drawer again!” Christina blushed.

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t,” said Reason. “Bit hard to see anything there anyways.”

Abbi got excited at the music player topic, “Oh, that technology would go over really well in Solaris and I bet with some of the artists using it, we could increase the demand for the players throughout the kingdom. Maybe we could even send a couple instructors to train some of your people too or maybe performers for your wedding?”

“Oh, that would be delightful,” said Christina. “But.. what is Solaris looking for in return?”

Abbi made a mental note to make arrangements. With any luck she might even get to be part of the delegation to the wedding. Who didn’t like a beautiful royal wedding?

Abbi smiled again and said, “I think knowledge and access to new technology is what we gain.”
She leaned forward a little to show her sincerity, “My Lady, I am going to guess that you are wondering if I have an ulterior motive.” she blushed because her other motive was to get into normal clothing and out of the tea cup dress. “As you can see, with my red hair and pale complexion, I can’t lie because I blush easily and I am not use to courtly politics. I find most game-playing like that to be a waste of people's time and does not help people reach their goals.”

She took a gentle breath then continued, “My Lady and Lord, I am looking for solutions where all sides benefit. I need Reason’s knowledge of History so the people can learn from the past and make better choices. I need Young’s knowledge of Technology and Science so that my people can learn that not all technology needs to be feared. You can benefit from the creativity of the people of Solaris. We all need each other for economic prosperity for all of us. ”

She paused for a moment then said, “I believe that Lord Drakus is not opposed to technological development, but he is worried that adopting new technologies too quickly might disturb the order of things. I think if I can help broker a beneficial deal with the northern houses, he would be more inclined to side with them at the vote.” She was going out on a limb and stretching her authority a bit. But with the help of Lady Christina Young and Lord Reason, other doors could be opened and she could improve the university from a party school to a place to be proud of.

Christina looked Abbi up and down. “Well, you’ve certainly gotten my attention. I think Mother would be willing to recognize Solaris as a full house as well, provided the terms were good enough.” She leaned back, lost in thought. “I think we could definitely come to a deal. I’m willing to offer specific support in the name of House Young to Solaris. Maybe, say, several prototype music players for testing and review? We could also start meeting with some of your entertainers and discussing distribution methods. A good way to reduce the general populace’s distrust of technology would be...” Christina began to mumble incoherently to herself.

“Don’t worry about her,” said Reason. “She gets like this sometimes. Don’t try to talk to her while she’s thinking, either. She gets crabby about it. Not sure if Tina can hear what’s going on, anyway. What a perfect pair! A man who cannot see and a woman who cannot listen! Whatever could go wrong?” He laughed.

Abbi smiled, “Ah, but a couple that learns to work together and makes use of each partner’s strengths to build each other up can overcome almost any obstacle.” She then said pleadingly to Lord Alexander, “I really need instructors too!” This was her task.

He raised his eyebrows. “Me? Oh, I don’t know about that. Not sure if you want a man who can’t write to teach people history. Or any other subject, for that matter. But… I’ll help you talk to the South about it, if need be.”

Abbi giggled and said, “Don’t sell yourself short. I would love to hear both of your histories some time, I enjoy a good love story. As to the university instructors, it doesn’t need to be you. I am sure that house Reason has many wonderful historians that might like to teach. I would appreciate any help with the southern houses for my project.”

Christina nodded. “I’m glad that Solaris is extending such an invitation as this one. I look forward to working with you.”

It seemed like Abbi had won the duo over.

Eska

---

She inhaled deeply.

Their chief had not acknowledged the axe, having simply left it there. It was of no matter. In a way, Eska wished for this outcome. Her training, her knowledge as a shaman rationalized that it won't be much good fighting them, that there were better methods to be found, that she should simply focus her efforts on finding Jiko.

But her pride as a tribesman of Emmeret, her pride as a warrior, her very honor spat upon by the kidnapping of those she held dear; those will not allow her to back down. Blood must be spilled, and by her ancestors' tapestry, she will not stop at anything until Jiko was returned. No, perhaps not even then. It did not matter if her contract was severed, it did not matter if she had her limbs cut off, or her body crushed and destroyed.

It was unorthodox to wage war so soon after the axe throwing, but it was usually because they threw the axe then left, with the chief's decision being relayed to them days later.

There was a bittersweet feeling welling up within her as she drew her bow, the vines it was made of moving and curling around each other, piercing the ground underneath her. Her magic, was subtle, lacking the raw power of a flame, the destructiveness of earth, the sheer force of wind, or the relentless flow of water. Hers was of the green song, and with it, she sang to the arrow she nocked on the bow, singing of growth, life, and peace. A promise that it will be as strong as its parent tree, the large yew perched on her home.

The tree on her house was supposed to be a deterrent for invaders, its base instincts suppressed until such times. Jiko was surprised, thus she wasn't able to commune with it. Had she not, had the invaders not be craven cowards, only they would have to see what the tree awakened would do. Now, their entire tribe would face her, and the tree's might, through these arrows borne of it.

Her muscles taut, the bow strengthening itself slowly as the vines grew thicker and the bow grew bigger, it was slowly starting to be an inhuman bow no mere human can hope to draw. She wasn't aiming for anyone, but that circular waterhole in an open space. Loosing the arrow, the shot flew like a bullet, crashing through a chimney and the waterhole's centerpiece statue. A shot more akin to a piece of artillery than a bow.

Like an ancient being brought to life, the arrow grew rapidly into a tree, absorbing the water before it pushed its roots deeper into the soil, breaking rock and stone in the process. Its trunk shot up, growing larger and wider, pushing apart the paved waterhole and anyone unfortunate nearby. A tree uninhibited, born from the cultivated yew on her home. Leaves and berries grew in abundance, the red and yellow of its berries prominent amongst the green and brown of the tree. Both the berries and its seed were delicious, as she could attest, but it was its pollen that she was waiting for. A wave of white rolling mist, coming from the tree, growing heavier and increasing in range as the tree's growth spurt slowed to a steady pace. Soon it will tower over any building in the settlement, and the white mist of pollen will cover the entire area. At least, if it continued unabated. Even now it was covering a significant area around it. A harmless mist for her, but hardly so for anyone without the resistance.

The bow wrapped around her arm, the vines coiling around her quiver as she prepared to go inside. Those who had weak constitution will not survive for long, but the stronger ones can probably withstand its effect for some time if they did not suck in air like an idiot. With her hand on her knife, she jumped down from her vantage point, and started walking down.

15th day of Anais

---

In the light of the afternoon, Cedric and Ruel Immolis were in the garden. A little strange, since it would be expected that the two wouldn’t waste any time in preparing for the talks. The garden itself was massive. It was well maintained by those who lived in the tower, and it contained beautiful plants from all around the world in all different colours. There were even some plants that for some reason, could only grow there. It was a breathtaking sight. The two of them had been slowly making their way around, stopping every so often to chat. At that time, Cedric was kneeling on the ground as his brother listened attentively.

“...And then these are mementatoes. You can tell because of the colour, and then the leaves are-” Cedric was saying.

"That’s a really stupid name,”Ruel cut in.

“You can call them fauxracics if you want.”

“That’s an even stupider name. If there’s fauxracics, where’s real-racics?”

Cedric swatted at his brother. “Shut up, Ruel. You’d know this if your ever paid attention in tutoring.”

“You didn’t either!”

“Yes, but I paid attention to mementatoes and used them on my exams. I was deaf for a week straight, though...”

“No dignity, Ced. Isn’t that... illegal?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“You broke the law! You’re a criminal! I’m telling Dad!” Ruel jeered.

“Shut the fuck up, Ruel. He’s dead,” Cedric said, standing up with a scowl.

The beauty of the gardens lent to its own aura of soft tranquillity and serenity, even the wind only dare whisper gently in this space. There was however those who did not respect or observe its natural magic and charm.

The flower in Cedric’s hand began to wilt and shrivel. In an instant it’s once proud flourishing beauty faded away. One after another it’s petals fell gently to the floor. Drained of all life and color there was nothing left for it. Having been bombarded and violently assaulted by an invisible heat source it simply curled up, all dried out, and died.

“The leaves are bipartite with a fine tooth edge, and unique persistent bud-scale stipules.” An arrogant voice affirmed, detailing how to identify the fauxracics.

It was only after the callous condescending words did the nearing footsteps become apparent, clacking repetitively across the cobblestone path that paved its way through the majestic garden. Each echoing step a force contending with the magical peace of the garden. Threatening and fighting the soft aura of tranquility.

“And they really don’t like the heat.” He added smugly.

With Rendyl in tow close behind him, Drakus strode with heavy steps towards his brothers, spite strewn across his smirking face and malice filling the air around him.
While his little trick was executed with a seemingly effortless ease, for those less accustomed or gifted in the art, it had been compared as the magical equivalent to pushing a potato through a strainer with your face. To keep the gate invisible, he had opened multiple weak and faint connections. This therefore required A LOT more force and flow to produce the same heat. To top it all off and do so without any motion or concentration was just a blatant display of his aptitude and mastery, something he often liked to remind Cedric of.

“And I didn’t even have to encourage illegal trade, consort with a peddler or cheat to know this.” He added slyly with his wide, taunting, smug smile. Continuing the conversation and bating his older brother.

He created a tense pause, prolonging the gap between words as his eyes ran over those he had not seen in many months. He did little to hide the myriad of emotions they caused, but mostly he just looked down upon them like they were a mere inconvenience.

“Father was a senile old fool.” He eventually added. His focus fell completely and disapprovingly over Ruel.
“Clearly evident by his later choices.”

Drakus turned to admire the flower patch beside him, sifting a hand through the many flourishing buds, he spoke back without turning.
“But Cedric is right. He is dead. It’s up to you now to make the decisions, ‘little brother’. Let’s start with the confession of guilt you just received, a liar and cheat stands beside you. A ‘criminal’ in your own words. What do you do? What is the just and final decision of the lord of Immolis?”

The look on Cedric’s face was sour. That was all there was to it. There was no other way to describe the sheer displeasure he gave to Drakus the instant he had opened his mouth. His hand instinctively reached for the whip at his side - one that cut through virtually anything, a gift from a foolish father to the weakest son. The jerk made the Akeshan perk up slightly, but little else. Ruel also didn’t seem too happy, but there was more to it. His laughing faded almost instantly.

“Don’t talk to my brother like that,” Cedric hissed, dropping the wilted flower and then stamping on it. “Besides, I still failed, so it doesn’t matter, does it? No, I think the real criminal is the bastard who can’t stand being worse than anyone else. You narcissistic bastard, I had better-”

Drakus hated that whip, he hated its touch, he hated the way his brother could wield it but most of all, he hated how it was a gift from his father. Quickly blinking the gate from his eyes he just chuckled, “My my, so full of confessions today, so you’re a cheat and an idiot.”

Ruel tugged on Cedric’s arm. “Ced, don’t.” His voice was soft. “Let’s just go, an’ find Ellie or something…” His eyes drifted to one of the many entrances, very much wanting to leave.

Cedric shrugged him off. “Two years,” he continued. “Two years since you’ve left. And everything is fine. We don’t need you. Fuck, we don’t even want you anymore. You’ve had your shot. You should just give up while you’re ahead.” He walked up to Drakus, staring him right in the eye. He wasn’t the tallest but he was still in full armour. “There isn’t room for a fifteenth house here. Try Ashket, and come back later.” Ruel slowly walked up to where the two were, but still stood a little further back.

Rendyl bristled slightly at the insult, but her blank expression was now lost, replaced by a similar expression of contempt for this man.

Drakus only leaned further in to meet his brothers stare, matching him eye to eye, looking down at his older sibling, unflinching, unwavering. “Anymore?” He questioned with a dirty scowl. It was well known amongst them that Drakus hadn’t felt like a ‘wanted’ part of the family for a long time, if ever.
“You may not want or need me but your precious Immolis does, Croania does.” His smile screamed with all the self belief he held for that idea. It was clear that to Drakus it was more than just an ideal, it was part of who he was.

“But you are right.” He said calmly, stepping back. “15 houses is too many.” And with that, everything seemed to de-escalate even though, somehow, in a way only he could, Drakus made those cold words sound like a final threat. His Askeshan bodyguard felt the tension decrease, yet she took a very slow step to the right out of his shadow.

“Immolis doesn’t give a shit about you playing house,” Cedric said. “You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who does. But that’ll just go in one ear and out the other, won’t it?” Ruel stood ever so slightly behind Cedric, just watching. It seemed that he had noticed Rendyl once she had moved and was regarding her with curiosity. He knew what beastmen were, and had been told all about their inferiority, but he’d never seen one in real life.

Actually, her wings were pretty cool, weren’t they?

Cedric continued. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on Ruel, you hear me? I couldn’t care less about what your pathetic lot get up to, but you even think about threatening my brother again and I’ll have your head, laws be damned.”

The wings Ruel noticed were unfurling slowly, stretching out above and behind her almost lazily while Rendyl held her ground, standing with a semi-relaxed posture. Those feathery appendages came back down to rest close together behind her shoulders.

“Ruel!” Drakus snapped, drawing his attention away from Rendyl. “Remember Bower, and what happened when he bit the blacksmith’s boy?.. keep your pets on a leash less you want to have to put them down.
And should you wish to discuss relinquishing your title to lordship prior tomorrow’s meeting, I think I’ll be exploring the town.”
Drakus was about to turn away when he stopped to stare at Cedric once again,
“Oh and I would never personally hurt my younger brother.” He hissed at him through a daring smile.

Rendyl had yet to make any sort of sound throughout the exchange between Lords, and the mention of controlling pets, she flicked her wingtips and pulled them in slightly, but didn't step back into Drakus's shadow. It was plain she meant for her presence to be known despite her species.

Cedric blinked. His scowl deepened. “Alright then, I’m killing the bastard,” he muttered to Ruel, taking a step forward, and Rendyl mirrored the action aggressively.

“That’s it!” Drakus said egging him on.

“Ruel, let him do it! Right here, right now, in this garden.” Drakus dramatically announced evoking all the flair and loud boisterous confidence of his many stage actors from the theatre. As he flung his arms out wide he continued “Let him open up his connection to Anais, let him bare his gifted gate before me, it’s what I deserve, a light refreshing sprinkle!”

Unable to keep up the overdramatic charade any longer, Drakus folded over in laughter. Clearly amused by his own antics and clearly putting it on a little for extra effect. His slave guard stopped beside Drakus, eyes locked onto the pair of Lords threatening her Master.

“No, no, no,” Ruel whined, desperately trying to pull him back. It wasn’t his strength that won out in the end, but Cedric still stopped. “C’mon, let him do what he wants. Ced, I wanna look at the flowers again.“

“Not anymore, Rue,” Cedric replied, his voice considerably softer than before. “You’ve got to prepare for the talks. And finish up the paperwork from… last month, was it? On Anais, I swear you’re useless.”

Ruel spared a worried glance up at Drakus. “Not useless.”

“No little brother.” Drakus agreed. Still wearing the grin at his brothers expense. “Everyone and thing has a use, no one is useless, you’re just not ‘suited’.” he said assuredly.

“You and even Cedric would have a place under my lordship, one where you would have far less paperwork and could play as much as you like. Think about it.
But if you wish to carry on with this charade, if the vote comes, do not invite war onto ‘our’ people. Bad things happen to good people during war.”
And with that warning he turned his head to walk away, Rendyl keeping her Lord's brothers in sight as she slowly turned to follow.

Ruel and Cedric were silent. The latter looked as if he wanted to say something, but he restrained himself. Ruel stared at the floor, screwing something into the ground with his foot.

“I’m Lord Immolis,” he mumbled, mainly to himself. He dropped something onto the floor - more crushed up and frozen flower petals to join the others, stamping and shattering them. “I’m Lord Immolis. Not Ced, not Drakus. It’s me. So…”

Cedric patted him on the back, turning him away from Drakus with a dark look on his face. “While House Immolis still stands, I swear to you that father made the right choice,” he said, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced. Not a single Immolis had come out of the succession announcement feeling pleased. Even two years later, it still seemed that way.

At least Cedric had the decency to pretend he was fine with it.

Drakus caught Rendyl’s eyes as he turned and began to walk away, and she would see what no one else could see. For all that sly, cocky, smugness, the abrasive, cruel, confidence and sheer condescending, arrogance, there was a slither of pain hidden deep down inside.
It was there hidden with in his pupils, that crack in his soul, that ache… Having evolved into an unsated rage and malevolence, they both knew that there was only one person here in the entire keep he could safely take it out on and get away with it.
So after that tense engagement, having seemingly gained nothing, they went back to his private, empty, quarters.