Abbi

---

---

The building started to rumble as large stones fell from up high. The battle that had raged between the two Lords had started the floors to collapse into the hall. Abbi knew that is was only a matter of time before this part of the building would collapse in upon itself. Killing the innocent people trapped in the hall. The killing that took place, the woman falling to her death, the thief, and now oncoming death to those around her made her heart sick. The effects of the mana blasts and using her magic were playing with her emotions as well.

The hall started to collapse first pebble coming down, then would come chunks of stones and timbers. Abbi yelled to the others get near a corner or in archways and to use their gates to make a hole in the wall. She did her best to protect the bodies of the Lords for the moment. She searched for their signets and weapons so she could return them to their houses. Then she said a little prayer over them. Chunks of stone blocks started to rain down around them. In her mind the thought raged, “I’ve failed my lords and my queen. War was coming and she had not made enough allies to protect Solaris. Every army from the north and south would come through their lands taking what they wanted, raiding their wealth and supplies.”

A large block started to fall upon her and she lifted her arms and pushed with her magic to deflect the block. She screamed in pain but the block moved tumbling away from her and others that were living. From one of the floors above one of Lord Kothlin’s attendants fell in his armor along with heavy debris. She scrambled towards them trying to save the attendants life if she could. The blood flowing from the suit told her the pilot was dead. At this moment, she would have gladly killed Lord Kothlin or one of his guards to get a hold of one of these suits. She wanted to save people. She speculated that with a bit of her magic amplified through the suit, she could do that.

“I am sorry to do this,” she said as she started to get the armor off the dead body. The joints were still working bit it had suffered some damage. It would not withstand combat after the impact it took. She placed her hands on his head saying a prayer that he would be at peace and then closed his eyelids. As people started to scream and larger sections started to come down. She scrambled into the armor. She was grateful for being smaller that the muscular soldier that it had contained. The armor tighter in the chest than she liked but the pressure was not important at the moment. The floor two levels up started to collapse adding pressure to the ceiling. She knew that the walls would give way and they would all be crushed. So she rolled and managed to get to her knees. She channeled her magic that allowed her to get to her feet and start walking to where the crowd was. There she was like Joan of Arc, red hair loose, covered in dust walking to do battle with a wall before the suit gave out or she did. She wanted to draw the weapon and feel its power.

It took all her might and magic to push the suit to move the stone blocks and get most of the people free. Her body guard and maid hovered as she lay down away from the tower. She wanted food, she wanted sleep. She had saved many people from both the north and the south and that made her feel good.

𝕆ff the ℂoast

---

"...What makes you think I'd ever go back?"

Tobias frowned. It wasn’t the answer he expected. When Rathas said nothing more, he continued.

“Currently, it stands as your only hope of living further. I have very little knowledge of what caused you to leave the Graves family, but I can assure you that the majority of those who ran the family back then have either died or left. Only your grandfather remains, and even he is nearing the end of his life.”

He paced until he was in front of Rathas, though she still couldn’t see him with the blindfold on. “I am Tobias Graves, and while I have very little recollection of you, Miss Rathas, I witnessed your explosive power in battle hours ago. As of right now, you are the most powerful Graves family member. Nobody would dissent your claim to succession. You could opt to remake the family as you see fit, or even decide to hide away and do what you like.”

“I will let you decide your own fate. I expect an answer by the time we return to Pachelian shores. That gives you… four hours, I believe.” Tobias returned to the entrance to the room and prepared to leave.

𝕋aft

---

From her “foraging,” Eska found:

• About 2000n and 20c
• A couple maps of Croania, one of House Pachel, one of House Croan, one of House Nols
• An absurd amount of smoked meats and bread
• 12 constable’s clubs
• 7 crossbows
• Assorted trade goods

From Coln, Eska learned that:

• She is in the southwest of House Pachel
• The merchants they sold Jiko to are named the “Featherine Guild”
• Their plans were to travel to Port Roc, the capital of House Nols
• The Featherine Guild planned to follow a river all the way to its mouth, the South Sea, where Port Roc stands
• The journey would take about 2 weeks by slow-moving wagon

@Yankee

A gaping maw of broken stone and splintered wood revealed the exit for the two. Melodia, who was the most annoyed by the situation they had found themselves in, led the charge out of their magical prison and through the increasing ruination of the tower. It was an absolute shill, the whole reason for coming to the place was pointless- and not only that but the only thing of value obtained was a black box that someone already knew about.

“Biggest waste of time, I swear, I’m never leaving home again.” She huffed and puffed as her small feet clacked over rubble without a care, quite sure footed for an old lady.

As the Lapsean noblewoman finally reached the earth below, an aggressive exhumation of air broke past her lips. Her crimson sights glanced through the wreckage carelessly until a familiar face was seen. Melodia’s expression changed to that of relief, a small smile forming and eyes developing droplets at their rims.

“Rhy- you’re okay!” Melodia’s vision looked through the others present alongside her, ignorant of their presence as her sisters safety absorbed all of her attention. Likewise, Rhythmia stared straight at her, and though the short-haired woman’s eyes were relieved to see Melodia safe, her expression was not nearly as light.

“Mel,” Rhythmia breathed as beside her their bodyguard exclaimed, “Lady Melodia!”

On Rhythmia’s other side was the Young house heir, kept close to the Lapsean’s side. Her presence was an immediate signifier of what transpired, even without the details.

Melodia quickly made her way to the small group of familiar faces and restricting her own attention to specifically Rhythmia, not acknowledging Vati in the slightest. The man didn’t even pretend to be affronted, merely glad she was alright.

“I’m glad you’re safe. Anything of note besides the uh- extra family members?” Her eyes then peeled from her sister reluctantly to the extras around her.

“A lot,” Rhythmia sighed, but rather than follow up her words she leaned forward and pulled Mel into a half-hug. She knew in her heart, as old and cold as it was, that Mel had survived the fiasco but it was still nice to have confirmation. After a few moments she let go and spoke again.

“We should… go home. Soon.”

Open-heartedly accepting the embrace, Melodia gripped her sister tightly and let out a few stressed huffs of oxygen. And as they pulled away she beamed happily at her sister, relieved that the whole endeavor had come to pass. Or at least, that’s what she had hoped.

“Agreed— this is why I never cross the border. And after this fiasco, I doubt I ever will again.” Melodia clicked her tongue and spun to look at Tina and Vati.

“Are you two ready then?”

“Hold on, shouldn’t we wait— there’s still a lot we could learn by investigating?” Tina frantically asked, still clearly shaken up by the events that just occurred.

“Lady Young, if m’lady is asking to leave the premises. It is likely because she doesn’t believe there’s anything to waste her time looking for.” Vati quickly interjected.

Melodia herself didn’t bother with responding to Tina, instead offering her an apathetic visage upon her face and shaking her head. She hummed to herself before beginning to slowly pace towards the exit of the tower and be done with it. As the vision of damage outside caught her face, she was briefly worried about what would remain— but their entourage of black cars was, miraculously, undamaged.

“See Rhy, this is why I invested so much money in this start-up engineering company. Ingenuity Vehicles, built to last forever.”Her tone was beginning to change a little, perhaps she was getting over this whole debacle.

“Ingenuity? That’s the name of the company?” Tina briefly asked as she followed the group down to the vehicles.

”Tina, get in the car.” Melodia rudely commanded the Young heir as they reached the car, opening the doors of the car before sliding inside.

Luckily, the two Lapsean nobles were small-framed girls who took up little to no space. Also luckily, some of their drivers had survived the cataclysm that happened outside the walls of Harrow’s Tower. They looked rough, but death was not something Lapsean people dwelled upon much. Though the loss of some of her most trusted did silently itch at Melodia’s psyche, and a frown would develop upon her lips as two cars would leave behind the rest of the entourage, and they quickly left town. It was a long drive home after all.

”When we get back to the city, make sure I write out some checks for the dead’s loved-ones. I’ll need to make a public statement on what happened here today as well— hopefully the familias don’t lose their shit.”

Rathas' response landed her more questions than answers, but he...might just be that bland. At this point? Fuck it.

"No need! I accept."

Walking behind her Lord, Rendyl kept flexing her back muscles. Her body didn't like her wings away from her body, and the numbness was also a rare sensation she had only felt once before. It had been two long glides almost back-to-back between two ships that were unsure of the other's identity. She had managed to save both crews the costly and very bloody conflict by helping exchange words between the captains without the ships needing to approach each other.

She had spent near two days in the captain's quarters recovering after that, and she anticipated a similar requirement for rest now. Yet even as she thought that, part of her knew Master would not give her two full days to herself, even if the world wasn't ending. She was stronger than that, Master would say.

The Avian bodyguard was just about to speak up about the subject when a harsh bang in the air, similar to the sound from when the tower was first enveloped. Rendyl crumpled to the ground while Drakus barely stayed on his horse, both falling unconscious as the world shifted once more.
____________

A ground shudder brought Rendyl to, along with her Master's voice yelling her name. Why was she on the ground…? "Rendyl! Get up now! We must move! The tower is coming apart!"

Drakus was reigning in the spooked horse, trying to keep it from rearing up and knocking him off. His voice, steely and furious with a hint of something else made Rendyl push herself off the ground for the second time that day, groaning as her body protested to the abuse. She took a few shakey steps towards her Master, just as a rumbling crackle could be heard above them.

The pair looked up in time to see a chunk of the tower that had been held up by sheer luck finally saved to gravity's will, breaking off and falling right towards them. Rendyl immediately takes a step towards Drakus, only to hear him yell "RENDYL GET BACK!!"

It made her pause just long enough to save her life, and then the impossible happened…The horse rears as Drakus attempts to yank it out of the way, and when that fails, Lord Solaris lifts a hand up mere moments before the chunk hits. But Rendyl never saw the impact. A heat blast throws her onto her back, and smacks her head into the ground….
___________

Why does the world hate me…?

Rendyl questioned to herself as she pushed herself up- again- and rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head. Her hand came back moist, but at that moment, her mind was processing the images in front of her.

The horse was dead, crushed under a massive chunk of the tower, a single hoof visible from Rendyl's angle. She couldn't see anything to indicate Drakus under the rubble, but she scrambled unsteadily towards the pile, frantically tugging at chunks to try and find her Master.

Eska

---

She bit into a piece of smoked meat, eating with gusto as she did her business, reinforcing the tree, and remaking new arrows from the seeds it sprouted, as well as taking more seeds in a pouch.

Jiko was far away, but she was still alive. Eska couldn't imagine what sort of horrible things they might do to her. With how these people treated her kind, she had no doubt Jiko was suffering a far more worse fate than if she was just killed. It felt like her heart was clenching around itself, that tight feeling of regret, fear and anger at herself. If only she did not leave. If only she was the one who stayed. Every moment she was without her only companion, with every tear that fell, her heart hardened, slowly convincing herself they were base barbarians, and not worth compassion or regret.

Stepping back from her work, she looked up again towards the massive boughs of the tree, satisfied that the dead of this town will feed it, and its offsprings.

Eska didn't even touch the assorted collection of coins she found on all the bodies and inside the houses, nor did she even bother with the weapons and material goods. The only thing she took was a few rolls of parchment that seemed to be maps, confirmed by her scouting the landmarks around the area and looking at the parchments again. Eska was not interested in trade or even negotiations with whoever bought Jiko. Someone as despicable as that only deserved death.

Remembering what Coln told her, she moved quickly to the south, achieving a bounding pace typical of a persistence hunter.

Though she was free, and bounding on the path through an open field, the silence of being alone was crushing, a constricting cage around her heart.

Somewhere in the near distance a large heavy wyvern crashed hastily to the ground. It easily went unnoticed amongst all the commotion and unconscious people. A small moment later and suddenly a large heavy hand landed upon Rendyls shoulder.

Tholn

---

Tholn was a large man, a demi-giant at that with the muscles to match his awe inspiring stature. His equally fitting and intimidating hard stone facial features were silhouetted by long lengths of jet black wavy hair that reached down over his wide shoulders. On his chin sat an equally dark well kept pointy short sharp beard with an accompanying moustache, both trimmed with pristine lining and gleaming with the wetness of excess oils.

Of the few places between fine blue silks and shining polished armour where flesh was fashionably and deliberately exposed, his naturally dark olive skin was noticeable patterned by a plethora of fine white lines. Littered about his body haphazard and chaotically, some older than others, and of varying sizes, length, shape, direction and depth, still compared to his skin tone they all practically glowed in contrast.

Rendyl would quickly recognise the wyvern guard. Even though having observed her with an intimate closeness and consistency, the giant of a man had spoke very little to Rendyl, and when he did, did so with a hesitation and shyness unexpected of his appearance. This time however there was none of that. A deep throaty and demanding voice boomed with urgency from the worried man.

“WHERE IS LORD DRAKUS!?”

His eyes held obvious with the concern and fear he felt as his head swung around wildly, madly surveying the carnage that was once the great tower. Even with Eliona cradled limp and lifeless in his arms, her clothes torn ragged and stained with blood, he stalked through the unsettled dust and kicked aside large rocks and heaved up long wooden beams where ever he imagined signs of life.

“Where” The sentence started and ended on the same choked breath, the man clearly distressed.

The man would spend the better part of the next week stifling through the ruins for hours on end with the aid of servants. Removing body after body. Sometimes whole, other times in pieces. Still, he carried on with a fierce determination and denounced every unidentifiable corpse that could have been Drakus, even the one bound in his clothing.

From the ruins he found a few of their possessions and the body of a servant, all which he sent back to Solaris.

𝔼nidad

---

The Palace of Enidad was buzzing. Messengers and soldiers flooded in and out while servants gossiped among themselves with no care for who was listening. At worst, a Dalris spy learning what they already knew. War was coming.

A certain part of the palace, however, was silent. Ishtar’s Crown, the largest tower in the palace, and the home of the Mage Queen. Very few were allowed to enter, only the most trusted of House Croan. The queen’s safety was their first priority. Their security was so tight that it was said that the queen was not even allowed to bleed.

Needless to say, Ishtar’s Crown was often empty. It still was, aside from one room. The queen’s chambers, housing Inanna herself and her most trusted retainer, Ezra Croan. His youth had been wasted in servitude of the queen, and as time continued to pass his good looks faded and the furrow in his brow never seemed to leave.

“I have compiled reports from messengers all over the continent, as well as survivors of the tragedy, your holiness. I will read them out for you now,” he said. Inanna stared up at him, sitting up on her bed, surrounded by silk sheets and pillows.

“Get on with it, then! Oh, and I’d like some more tea, please.” She waved her empty teacup at him, which he refilled without complaint.

“Let’s begin. On the sixteenth of Anais, year 1648, Harrow’s Keep vanished, only to reappear, completely destroyed, half of the population dead. Of those attending the talks, a good deal of soldiers and servants have died. Most notably, Wester Nols, who is missing and presumed dead, and Jevin Pachel, who was killed by Arthur Kothlin.”

Inanna sipped her tea. “Pachel, you say?”

“I did indeed say that, your holiness.”

“Hmm. Esmeralda Nols must not be pleased. Send our condolences to her.”

“Arthur Kothlin has declared war on Southern Croania- namely, every house save Young and Lapseus. Next, the reports and information I have compiled regarding this. Beginning, of course, with House Pachel.”

“I had expected that man to hold on a little longer, really. A shame. I presume we should leave House Pachel alone for a little while?”

“An excellent decision, your holiness. Though no one has declared anything yet, we can mark the death of Jevin Pachel as the beginning of the 33rd Pachelian Succession War. We cannot guarantee their military support until it is over.”

“I see. Should we sponsor a candidate, I wonder? It might speed things up a little. Ezra, when you get the chance, I’d like you to compile reports on every candidate for me to read over. I have a particular interest in Alana Pachel.”

Ezra blinked. “She is not a Pachel by blood. I would not think she has any place in this war.”

“That woman would make an excellent puppeteer, mark my words. Anyway, keep going.”

“Seler has yet to report back to us. The First and Second of their council have yet to return and they are hesitant to make a decision before then. However, it is unlikely they will not support the South. Their naval strength will be a great asset against the North.”

“We ought to poach some of Pachel’s soldiers while we have the chance, you know. Who else is on our side?”

“Darius Balaur is still up in his tower. He’s old now, I wouldn’t expect anything from him. His heir… Matthias, was it? I believe he survived the tragedy, but he hasn’t reported anything either. I wouldn’t call it an army, but Immolis has a fair number of skilled soldiers. Then there’s the Holy Knights-”

“Oh, forget about them,” Inanna said, waving her hand. “They’re useless. There’s not enough of them, and they’re all useless except for, what? Five?”

Ezra sighed. “And those five are plenty competent. We ought to have them training on the daily, not running errands for House Croan.”

“Then arrange for it. If Lord Croan needs new servants, it doesn’t concern me.”

“Of course, your holiness. Now, it is logical that Kothlin will begin by attacking the houses on the border. Those are Dalris, Reason, Granis and Pachel. Though Pachel is entering its own war, it would still be dangerous to invade at first. But Reason and Granis are already very pro-technologist. Especially with Alexander Reason inheriting the title of Lord Reason. It wouldn’t surprise me if they defected.”

Inanna dropped her cup. It fell softly against the sheets, tea soaking into the fabric. “Pardon? Say that again.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if they-”

“No, before that.”

“Of course. Alexander Reason has inherited the title of Lord Reason, so-”

”And you didn’t say that earlier? I thought that only the two nobles had perished!”

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, your holiness. Rithal Reason did not attend the talks, but seems to have died soon after.”

“Rithal Reason… what a man. That’s two lords dead and then another three turned traitor.” Inanna picked up her teacup, motioning for Ezra to refill it. He did.

He began to speak, but faltered. “Dalris, Granis and Reason. We haven’t the troops to send to all three.”

“Go on.”

“We aren’t ready for war, your holiness. House Aureolin has been spreading anti-war sentiments, which you’ll find most people agree with. They are afraid.”

“Propaganda!” Inanna spat. “You have been infected too, Ezra.”

“Your holiness, I only wish to aid you-”

“You shall do no such thing! I have the guidance of the goddess on my side. You are in no position to advise me.”

“My apologies. I will remember my place.”

Inanna almost looked disappointed. “Aureolin… how problematic. Well, I am in no mood for news anymore. Leave, Ezra. Send for Amande. Perhaps she can console me.”

Ezra nodded quickly. “Of course. At once, your holiness.”

Inanna frowned. “Could you not call me by my name? Don’t prattle on about status. Queen Inanna would be enough.”

“Of course, your holiness. I will keep that in mind.”

“...It’ll do.”

ℝedline

---

On the other side of the country, in a much larger room filled with far more people, an equally serious conversation was taking place. Five men and three women arranged themselves around a screen-table. It displayed a large map of Croania layered with electronic markings and figures.

A dark man in a red uniform pointed at House Seler on the map. “The naval force here is likely the strongest opposition we’ll face. With Pachel temporarily out of the picture, Seler carries the strongest southern military force. Querida, give us the numbers.”

Querida, a short-haired redhead with a mousey face, looked up from where she had been doodling small boats in the Eastern Ocean. “Ah, um, they’re really big. Like at least five hundred ironsides, plus the loads of smaller boats that go with them. I’d say that our navy as it is right now will get decimated.”

“In which case we go by land,” said another woman- the gear on her lapel marked her as the head of the Engineer Corps, a specialized unit that focused on powersuit development. “The Engineer Corps. are ready to go anywhere. We have special treads and boots ready for those Northern Dalris wetlands, and breathing masks if we must go through the Jin Ranges.”

“Peace, Isma,” said the dark man. “Our naval force can still win if we focus production on computers for navigation and simulation. The southern pigs are still using dated techniques.”

Elias’s older brother, Mark, pointed at the point where Harrow’s Keep had once been. “We likely won’t have to even take the Keep. Not after what happened.” He looked at Kothlin straight on.

Kothlin met his gaze. Internally, he was crumbling after what had happened to Elias, but he had to put on a strong face for his men. He gestured further past the Jin Ranges. “Through the passing of the late Lord Reason, we have now gained a small, but important ally. House Reason and Young control the only pass through the Jin Ranges for tens of kilometers. Now, the only other viable option for a large Southern land force is the Dalris Coastal Pass.”

“...and the Valley of Rest, in northern Pachel.”

“Yes, but nobody goes there.”

“Which is precisely why someone would. Plus, that’s where the South’s largest force is.” Mark drew an arrow from House Pachel into Lapseus. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they tried a counteroffensive once we attack. How are the discussions with Lady Lapseus?”

Kothlin made a face akin to a child’s reaction after tasting lemon. “She refused my offer to send her men to train her forces. She also refused to let any of our soldiers near the Valley of Rest. Suffice to say we will not be attacking Pachel from the North anytime soon.”

He stepped back from the map. “Let’s turn our thinking around. The South is underestimating us. Some Houses don’t even think we’ll end up fighting, or that we’ll attack and lose immediately. That’s where we’ll show ‘em. We hit hard, and fast. Prepare to move.”

“Let’s end this with one blow.”

Abbi
Gathering - pre battle

---

As Abbi lay in the grass, she felt more emotions than she liked. She was glad that she had save a number of the servants from being crushed. She was angry with the very strong probability of war coming. She was sore from making this metal suit move and enraptured from the use of magic she needed to use to move it. She was worried about here people and wanting to make sure they were safe. She was appalled at the destruction of knowledge and life. As a paper maker and bookbinder’s daughter, the loss of the libraries was horrid. The worst part was that she was curious and wanted to know how whatever happened allowed her to tap that magic. That was dangerous thinking as it was her magic calling her to find a way to give into it. She sent servants to look for any remains of devices from the blast.

Abbi did the only thing she could do at the moment, she committed a high crime. She looked like a noble, so she needed to act like one. It took her servants and a few passing by to get her back on her feet. She had the guard draw the sword and hand it to her point down. It was heavy enough that he would have tired in battle in moments, which meant Abbi would not be able to lift it for long and not in the armor. Moments of inertia made this a tipping and falling problem and it was very clear to her.

With her red hair flying and sword out, she channeled her angry Mother voice then she started to bark orders at peasants asking what they were doing and assigning tasks to those that could not answer. Engineers, unlike scientists, are good at improvising. She had people looking for her lord, Rendyl, Elaina and others. She sent another to find their carriage and the team of horses. Sitting on the rear servants bench would keep her from falling over and allowing her to be moved. Being a mage with a minor force gate and engineer she wanted to figure out the secret of this metal and see if she could make it lighter.

For the most part her ploy worked. The dark armor and sword did most of the speaking the warriors who wore them were terrifying and brutal. As Abbi was learning, they needed to be. She understood why they fought the way they did. It also gave her ideas on how to fight against them if she had too.

---

“You can’t possibly understand what the three of us went through!” Melodia assaulted the taller, slim, but similarly pale and fair featured figure across the table from her.

The woman was Theadora Thespia, an up and coming scientist from one of the stronger branch families. Despite Melodia’s current tone with the young woman, the noblewoman did actually quite enjoy Thea’s presence.

“I’m not saying that I do, or that I could ever imagine to— If what you’re saying about the spatial magic anomaly is true, I’m glad that I didn’t decide to go. I shall continue to press the question though. Will you let me open you and Rhythmia up under the surgical lamp? You’ve seemed healthier than ever these past few weeks. And I think there’s knowledge to be gathered. You both will heal up in no time.”

Melodia snapped an empty tin cup from atop the wooden table, clutching it and consciously aiming the item at Thea. Though it wouldn’t release, instead she just grunted out loud and slammed the tin back down causing a loud ting to echo within the room. Her red sights seethed directly into Thea, whereas the other woman simply stood calm and collected— staring carelessly back.

“I wish Vati were here to freak out over someone asking to cut me open. It would’ve lifted my spirits a bit— with all this sickening energy in the air. What’s your thoughts on the southern endeavors? Hold your thoughts on Kothlin’s antics for another time.” Melodia raised a white eyebrow as she pried an inquiry from the calculated Thea.

The taller woman’s posture relaxed as she leaned into the table and allowed her elbows to rest upon the white-painted wood. Her hands came together beneath her chin before she spoke. “You’re right in thinking that we have no reason to worry. The operations along the Southern Border as well as my little project in Kascadia in the north make sure of that. I’m more concerned with our neighbors to the West, they’ll be running short on supplies— but I’m sure you won’t let them starve.”

Melodia nodded along to Thea’s words, her lips flat and her expression a straightened concentration. The noblewoman’s sights sifted to a large clock mounted to a wall near the door as Thea continued on.

“As for the houses themselves. They’ll begin mobilizing within the next few months, maybe sooner depending on— Regardless, it’s probably a good idea to coordinate with Rhythmia when it comes to that topic.” Thea lifted her hands from the table into a shrug and brushed some hair from her face as she awaited the noblewoman’s response.

Melodia smiled softly, eyes still glued to the timekeeper as if to avoid making eye contact with something else in the room. Something that wasn’t a friendly scientist whom she sometimes disagreed with. In the opposite corner of the room, decidedly not sitting at the table was a pale man with dyed black hair— his clothes were incredibly old-fashioned, frills, long stripes along tapestry leggings, and even a black top hat. He looked like a human checkerboard, a jester of the times long since past.

“Don’t wish wish ta’ hear my thoughts e’guess, little dol’e?” The man’s voice creaked out in pain, but he stood up tall and his step still had a spring to it. By the vibrations that exhumed from his maw, one might assume he was wounded, sickly, or dying, but seeing him in action gave the opposite impression.

“Were I able to let you live in peace tucked in your own corner of the abyss never to speak to me again, I would cousin. But alas, tradition is a long-lived thing. I’ll not cast my eyes upon your cursed, broken, body— but I guess I could hear you out, cousin.” Melodia’s words held some withdrawn tact, they wished to draw a line rather than wound Cian Mortimarx.

“Tha’ south house e’ Pachel is ‘n chaos. Ample opportuna’ ta’ get our fingers an’ influen’ in there befora’ts gone?” Cian’s broken language was another relic of an older time, or perhaps it was just a result of his broken body... but he maintained his relaxed posture and kept his sights on Melodia.

“If I may? I think that mobilizing forces into the south is a bad move. Should any of their southern allies catch wind of the notion, the entire plan goes up in flames and we find a newly painted target on our back.” Thea quickly exclaimed her thoughts and shifted in her seat at the idea of war reaching their doorstep.

“I’ll consider it cousin, but you also need to consider the repercussions of unchecked ambition. You and I both know quite well how that comes back around to bite you back in the ass.” Melodia’s eyes closed as the clock struck twelve’o’clock and she stood from her big white chair. “But this meeting shall be postponed for the time being. I’ve got more important matters to tend to.” A brief dip of her head was offered to both parties in the room, and then she quickly clacked her way over to the door’s exit.

---

---

Melodia was the last to arrive to the forum, her car pulling behind the others lined up already behind the large concrete building. The roar of people could be heard from outside, the people weren’t outraged— it just wasn’t often for public appearances like this to happen. A chorus of chaotic excitement, and it rubbed off on Melodia. There was a smile on her face as she took her cane and slowly walked to the rear entrance with a bodyguard at each of her sides.

One of the men opened the door for her, and the Lapsean noblewoman slowly walked into the preparation lobby of the forum. It was a small sitting room with nice decor, red carpet, small brown wooden tables and chairs, paintings of old Lapseus architecture, and the friendly faces that awaited her arrival occupied it. She beamed at Rhythmia and chose not to acknowledge anyone else really, at least for now.

“Rhy, is everything ready?” Melodia beamed.

Her sister looked uncomfortable, but nodded all the same. It wasn’t the same feeling Rhythmia had on the way to Harrow’s Tower - it was something jittery, anxious. Even days later it was clear that Rhythmia was bothered by the event in some way. Still, she only let it show here in the prep room, with her family.

“We worked out a game plan,” came a warm voice from the side of the room. Huston, the burly head of security smiled at Melodia as he continued, “not much changed since the last time you were briefed, Lady Melodia, so no worries about being out of the loop. Except...”

“...I am presenting,” Rhythmia followed up, her crimson eyes meeting her sister’s like a mirror.

“Yeah, usually I’d handle it but we thought it was important to have you both speak. Not every day we get dragged into a war after all!” Huston’s smile didn’t fade, but he crossed his arms over his chest when he was done. He was keeping the room’s spirits up, but there were a lot of people worried.

“Very well, if you need support— we all will be here for you.” Melodia confidently chimed in to the positivity that Hunkston ignited. Her sights warmly stared back Rhythmia, but showtime was soon upon them and she was late to the whole situation anyway.

“M’ladies what of Lady Young? Should we introduce her to the populace, or should she remain in the shadows for the time being?” Vati quickly interjected the positivity with something a little more touchy. Tina had been a guest of the nobility, though, only a few people knew her identity in Gohetia— so an alias was given to her over the past few weeks to prevent any trouble. Vati had been her personal bodyguard, charged with showing her the more savory parts of the Lapsean capital.

“I suppose this would be a good opportunity to let the people know of the Young heir’s presence. I suppose we will need to give it a spin that’s easy to digest, however.” Melodia sifted her sights to little Tina, she had gotten as comfortable as she could with her situation.

“Even I am not fully aware of the situation that led me here! But Lapseus has its uniquities that catch my attention, and anything to be learned is fully welcome in my book!” Tina was as peppy and egg-headed as ever, simply taking full advantage of the situation. She was quite shaken up shortly after the events at the Tower, and Vati was there to keep watch until she got out of the damaged headspace. They’d bonded a little, but that pushover Vati was hard to get along with.

“Hahahaha! What a sweetheart!” Huston ruffled the girl’s hair.

Rhythmia hummed, considering Melodia’s suggestion. A “spin”? She was fairly certain that most of the populace of Lapseus would take any reason the sisters gave them. Even if the twin rulers had said ‘hey, we kidnapped this heir for leverage,’ most of the citizens would nod and go on with their lives. They were just used to that sort of thing, but...

No, Melodia was right. The long haired Lord hadn’t worked so hard over the last couple decades improving the house’s name for nothing. A positive spin, then.

“...safer in Lapseus...?”

“Hm, that’s true...”

“Yeah, while Kothlin does all the heavy lifting over there, poor Miss Reina is stuck in the middle. We’ve only got two Mage-pig houses nearby to worry about. One is in the middle of tearing itself apart and the other is Seler!”

“Easy enough, that’s our angle.” Melodia nodded in acceptance before turning her sights to the double doors leading to the people. “Lets get on with the show then. Shall we?” The long-haired noblewoman turned on her heels and slowly stomped towards the entrance to the stage of the venue. She pressed the smooth wooden doors open and the others fell into step behind her.

The roar of Lapsean people overpowered even the thoughts in their heads. Melodia happily waved out to the thousand-some audience and stepped up to the elevated platform where a long table with seats for each of them were placed. Only two microphones were placed upon the structure however, each one placed in front of the centermost seats which were etched with the Lapseus sigil: two hands clasping a red dagger.

Melodia found her seat on the left, pulling the chair out from beneath the white table and planting herself comfortably within it. Naturally, Rhythmia sat herself into the right chair. Around them, the rest of the group settled in. Melodia’s hand reached out to pull the metallic device closer to her face before calmly speaking into it.

“Thank you, everyone for gathering today at the Gohetia Amphitheater. As you know, the nobility and some of our closest were requested at Harrow’s Tower a few weeks ago. It was a conference to discuss laws and grievances between the North and the South.” As the word South left Melodia’s lips the crowd began to frenzy into angered shouts and boos.

“Now as some of you may be aware, there was a catastrophe at the tower. An unknown party utilized a weapon of magical origin to not only destroy the tower, but trap all the innocents in the area. Countless lives were lost, Northerners, Southerners, even some of our own.” Melodia’s words were once again met with hostility not aimed at her, but at a specific demographic within her speech. The crowd jeered until the short-haired twin leaned forward briefly as if to speak. She didn’t though, merely looked out over the people gathered before sitting back with her arms crossed, nodding for Melodia to continue.

“Lapseus is stronger than ever, and the time has come for us to rise above the rest of the world. I’m asking each and every one of you to help in this effort. Double your work forces, send your sons and daughters to our academies, give us your strong to protect our borders, give us your brilliant to uncover more scientific mysteries. We of the noble house of which your very land is named after shall of course double our efforts as well!” Melodia’s sights turned to her side of the table with Vati and Tina.

“Tina Young, Heir of neighbors to the west has joined us to aid in our scientific efforts. She is sharp in her youth, and a growing mind that will surely be put to use in our wonderful city. Which she shall be staying within, for her safety, until further notice— I ask of you all to treat her as one of our own.” Melodia then peeled her sights back to Rhythmia, nodding to her as the topic of safety had now been introduced. She hesitated for just a moment before standing beside her sister.

“...like Melodia said, Lapseus is strong,” Rhythmia began, her head tilted slightly downward as she spoke, eyes pointed toward the crowds but focusing on no one in particular. “Our lowlands protect us... our only Southern neighbor is in disarray... and our Naval forces... are more than enough to deal with any threat by sea...”

She trailed off, staying quiet for a few seconds before she collected herself again, glancing to Melodia as if to absorb her twin’s way with words.

“...but more than anything... the Lapsean people are what make us strong. Anything you give makes us stronger. Livestock, crops, people, children... and in return, we... will see to it that all of our families prosper,” she said, “we always do.”

The last forty years were proof of that, and the crowd called out in agreement. They jostled each other, shouted their support for the twin lords, and generally raised their voices high. In the midst of the noise, Rhythmia continued.

“Generals will be visiting the outer cities... send those who want to give us their bodies to them. Here in Gohetia, come to the estate... What we need immediately are scientists, technicians, and sailors... or anyone willing... to become one.

...Lapseus will prevail,” the short haired lord clenched her fists lightly on the table, and at a loss of what else to add, she glanced at Huston who flashed her a quick reassuring smile.

“Well said, sister.” Melodia happily punctuated, beaming happily to her sole blood relative and nodding in appreciation.

“With that! I shall now be taking five representatives of the familia that reside outside the capital.” The long-haired noblewoman did not prepare this section with the others, it was an idea that blossomed after the talks with the branch houses. Those seated at the table with her looked over in surprise. The head of the Lapseus house was ever a spontaneous one.

---

---

The evening dinner was one befitting their status: lobster, truffle cheese, marinated duck, lamb chops, and much more. What was different though is that usually these meals would be shared by staff, friends, and others on the property- but Melodia specifically asked for privacy tonight.

“So— I know you’ve been a little shaken up since we’ve gotten home. But your loony sister has a proposition for ya’!” Melodia reached out her hand towards the spread of food, grabbing the plate of lobster and snapping off a claw while reaching for a crabcracker with her other hand to break the shell. Across the table, her sister cut into the bird and peeled slices of the meat away, placing them delicately on both of their plates.

“Hm?” Rhythmia hummed, eyes moving away from the task she’d given herself. It was true, she’d been feeling off, but she’d be back to her normal self soon - at least, she hoped.

“Sir Mortimarx thinks it may be a good idea to send a small operation down into Pachel territory. I think you’d be the best person to lead such a thing— now I know what you’re thinking. We just got back, things are still a little chaotic, but I assure you that I can manage on my own.” The long-haired sister continued before chomping down on some lobster meat happily.

The short haired twin watched Melodia for a few moments before she nodded, to herself and her sister. She was right, of course. She usually was. Melodia was a strong woman in a lot of ways, and even if her physical health wasn’t one of them she had ways to protect herself - especially here in the capital. Not to mention she had the rest of the staff too. Vati was a man who could be trusted to look after her even if he was busy watching over Tina for now. There was also Huston, too, whose devotion to the family was second to the sisters themselves.

Rhythmia took a few bites of her own meal, tilting her head from side to side in consideration.

“...not a bad idea...” she settled on. “Surprising... that you agreed with Morti.” She gave Melodia a small smile, slightly teasing, a way to let her sister know that she was recovering all right from the whole ordeal at Harrow’s.

“We can see who is... in line to lead the house. Support them... or...” Destroy them was left unsaid.

“That branch of the family has always been— weird, even by our standard. But he’s ancient just like us, and with age comes wisdom. I didn’t look at him a single time during our meeting though.” Melodia snapped another claw of lobster, interrupting herself on cue before saying, “I’m getting off topic! The reason for the privacy this evening, is because nobody— not even Huston can know about this.”

Rhythmia raised a brow at her sister’s words, but kept silent as Melodia went quiet herself, pushing away the crustacean and reaching for a beautifully crafted knife, an ebony handle, Damascus Steel, small pearls around the fastened around the bands that held it together. Then the long-haired Lapsean sister stabbed it down into their table, rage burning in her crimson eyes.

“We have a traitor in our midst. So our circle of trust shrinks once again, until we find the insect and flay— and display them outside the estate.”

Ah. Rhythmia figured she’d say that.

The Lapsean leaned back in her chair, clicking the fingers of her metallic hand onto the seat’s armrests.

“I can find them, but it... takes time. And... with all the preparations...” she trailed off, lifting her gaze to the ceiling. There were many times she wished she was closer to a normal human being, but sometimes she also wished she was far more a monster than she already was. Multiple limbs, frightening speed - but then, what person didn’t wish for that from have time to time?

“...if... you have an suspects, send them with me,” Rhythmia suggested, eyes falling back toward her sister, “if you don’t... is there... any able to sniff them out...?”

“I have a feeling it’s someone in the capital that’s in arms length, but I don’t want to go pointing fingers yet- I’ve got some ideas on how to bait them out. As for who to take with you, I’ll let you choose! No more than ten, no less than five, if you can manage that.” Melodia quickly responded, the blade planted into the table wood being twisted to bore a small hole in the table.

Once again Rhythmia found herself surprised at her sister’s words, but soon enough her expression melted into a dopey smile. It was a look reserved exclusively for Melodia - different from the small feelings she usually let through.

“Worried?” she asked of the other Lord. Rhythmia’s strength was easily equal to five or ten men - probably more. That’d Melodia would suggest a detachment of up to ten was much larger than normal. “I’m fine... promise. Need to take some generals with me... sweep down the shore and drop them off... I’ll get some... recommendations from them.”

A pause.

“...Mel, are you... sure you don’t want Huston’s help...?” The man was serious about treachery, he’d happily rip any traitor apart limb from limb, though it’s true he wasn’t exactly the most subtle person in the world.

“Once we’ve found the scum I’ll have Huston take care of the rest. I just don’t know if it’s someone inside his circle, so the fewer people I need holding their tongues— the less guarded this individual will be.” Melodia happily smiled back to her sister, continuing to bore the hole as withheld anger coursed through her veins.

Of course, that made sense. Rhythmia nodded once more, slowing unfolding herself from the back of the chair and going back to the wonderful dinner. Lapsean chefs were talented indeed.

“Mel,” she said, and looked from her sister’s face to the knife she was twisting between her hands. “Punishment for the traitor... not the table...” she could understand Melodia’s anger. It had been some time since anyone close to them attempted to betray them, but it needed to be a focused anger, until they found the culprit.

“Yes-yes-yes, I’m sorry. The carpenters worked very hard on our furnishing!” Melodia huffed to herself, tossing the knife to the side and grabbing a slice of duck with a fork.

𝔼nidad

---

Laius stared at the fading yellow bulb of a honeyglow, admiring the intricate veins crisscrossing its petals. The year had been unusually warm, so even past the winter solstice, some flowers were still in bloom. He picked up his watering can and sprinkled some water on the earth.

“Good work, Laius. You’ve done a great job of caring for these all year.”

He finished watering and set the can down, then stood and turned. It was Cormack Elstadt, leader of the Holy Knights of Croan, and Laius’s direct superior. Laius gave a deep bow, his dark hair hanging only centimeters above the ground.

“Thank you, sir. I only wish I could be as successful in my knightly endeavors,” he said, still bowed.

“Ah, raise your head. We’ll make a knight out of you yet- and stop being so damn formal! A kid like you ought to be more excited, though I s’pose it’s better than how Ferris treats me.”

Laius rose to attention. “Yes, sir.”

Cormack’s broad shoulders drooped a bit. Laius couldn’t see the Bishop’s expression under his helm, but everything else about him communicated a feeling of exasperated acceptance.

“Well, I s’pose this respect’s better than none. Speaking of no respect, where’s Ferris?”

Laius thought back to the night before, in the tavern, with the oddly-dressed women. “Erm, Sir Ferris is likely in his room. He went directly back after spending some ‘alone time,’ though I don’t think he was actually alone.”

He looked up and shaded his eyes with a hand. The sun shone nearly directly overhead. “Sir Ferris is likely awake, but on off-days he usually dislikes leaving his room until evening.”

Cormack sighed. It was a deep, hearty sigh, one that echoes through armor and bone and resonates with the listener to the point that they themselves feel melancholic afterwards. Sir Elstadt was a renowned sigh-er.

“Well, I’ll just have to go and get him. Walk with me, Laius.” Cormack turned and beckoned for Laius to follow.

“Yessir!” Laius fell into step next to the massive suit of armor, feeling rather out of place. He always had to take at least two steps for every one of Cormack’s, and it ruined his dedicated marching practice. Walking next to Ferris was much more comfortable, since he tended to take small steps at a slow pace to allow Laius to keep up.

“How is the search for the seraphim going?” Cormack asked.

“Ah, uhm, not very well, sir. We checked the three Fanciful Stores as well as the Grey Canyon- nothing. No signs of any odd activity. Sir Ferris says it’s all a wild goose chase.”

Cormack snorted. “That’s one thing he’s right about. Frankly, I don’t know why Her Majesty is having us look in the first place.” He watched Laius’s jaw drop and shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Laius shook his head furiously and nearly crashed into Cormack as the Captain stopped at Ferris’s door.

Cormack banged his fist on the wooden door. “Ferris! Open up!”

“Coming!” came a muffled voice. There was the sound of scuffling as well as some hushed talking, and then the door opened a smidgen. Laius could barely make out some tufts of blond hair through the small crack.

“Oh! Cormack! What’s going on?” Ferris opened the door further, revealing his shirtless form and… was that a skirt? He was holding it up with one hand, blocking the view of his privates. “Don’t worry, I just couldn’t find my clothes. You don’t have to come in.”

Laius didn’t want to go in. It was incredibly messy, first of all, with various knickknacks scattered across the room. He spotted a form dart behind the bed, barely showing a heap of dark hair and plenty of skin in the process. Also, the room smelled slightly of… of…

He blushed and averted his eyes.

Cormack didn’t seem to react. He pulled out several letters from a pocket and handed them to Ferris, who accepted them with his free hand.

“What’re these?”

“Queen’s orders. Head to Pachel and confirm an endorsement, and then investigate the small town of Taft. More details in the white envelope.”

“Finally, a real mission. Who’s coming?”

“You, Laius, and Ceadda. Money’s in the brown envelope.”

“When?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Alright, give me… two hours. I have to finish something real quick.” Ferris winked at Laius. “I’ll see you at the entrance to the grounds.” He closed the door. Laius heard Ferris say something, and then a high, bubbly giggle sounded through the wood.

Cormack sighed again. “That man will be the death of me. Shame how he’s basically a third of our force right now. Come on, let’s get Ceadda up to speed.”

@Cu Chulainn

---

Captain Elliot Holdt,

Because of your exemplary performance and foreseen potential, we have decided to transfer you to a new division within the force at Fort Braemur. While this transfer is not top-secret, we expect you to hold a certain sort of secrecy as to the activities you will be undertaking. The name of the program is Project Plover. Its goal is to develop tighter relations between the Engineer Corps and the Infantry Corps in preparation for further conflict. This promotion to Project Plover is secret, and as such you will still be a captain in rank. We expect you to continue to serve the Corps will the same devotion and tenacity that you have displayed before.

You will attend a meeting in room B204 at 900 on the 24th of Anais to discuss this further. Be prompt.

Good Luck,
-General Felt

@banjoanjo

---

Erika Sid,

Thank you for accepting our offer for employment. The Kothlin Infantry Corps is glad to have you as a participant within its new program, Project Plover. We’ve reviewed your past work and are delighted to see your numerous innovations within mechanical engineering and body modifications.

Your job will be to assist the Kothlin Infantry Corps by helping power suit users connect with their systems in all manners. We wish for each power suit user to understand their equipment fully- we want them to be able to disassemble and reassemble their equipment blindfolded. We want them to be able to comprehend the specific mechanics of each of the suit’s functions. From your past experience with body-mechanics integration, we feel you will be able to do this incredibly well. You will be assigned a partner in a trial run of the program, and accompany them throughout their field missions. You will not need to see direct combat, but it may be of use to your experience to understand field conditions fully.

Please visit Fort Braemur on the 24th of Anais to receive further detail. You will meet with your partner and overseer in room B204 at 900.

-General Felt

@GreenGoat

Rendyl wandered down the street in a daze, holding the old book she had taken from the major library in her arms. Master was dead, Eliona was in critical condition, House Solaris was in an uproar over who was to succeed Master Drakus, and she was left in the dangerous position of being head of the Solaris Guard as an Akeshan. The nobles were cordial at best, downright hostile at worst. No one was giving her the time of day unless she threatened arrest for obstruction of Solaris business....The House guard stopped short of a bench beside the street, eyes staring but unseeing “Master, you always knew the right words. How am I to keep my world together when you were all that was in it…?”

It had been a week since the tower incident. The scene had been a disaster area, dead and dying in the streets, survivors and rescuers running around trying to make sense of it all, and the threat of war between the north and south was a real possibility. Rendyl had spent her time locking down her emotions in leu of assisting in the effort to save lives, and once Eliona had been recovered alive, had dedicated herself to tending the woman. Most of the Solaris entourage had been injured at best and they had started gathering around their Lord’s personal guard for direction, as well as Abbi in a strange set of plate armor, whom was barking orde*.

They had secured a means of travelling home quickly by order of the wyvern rider, and once there, the real trouble began. Who would succeed Lord Drakus? Who was in charge until one was decided? Rendyl shook her head slowly, ponding on those same two questions as she had for over two days now…

”Get up, servant. You were not given permission to sit. Stand, and fulfill your promise to me. Defend me and uphold my goals as your own. What use are you as my personal guard if you cannot do even that?”

Rendyl shot up suddenly from her hunched position on the bench. She didn’t remember sitting down, but the voice of Drakus sounded so real that it gave her a start. She looked around, and upon confirming being alone, looked back down to the book in her hands. Master always wanted power. He hammered into her early that strength will make your goals happen, be it strength of arm or of the mind. This book was going to help her with the latter, and she needed to gather more of the former.

She stood and with an ember that the avian thought long dead flaring to life, she took off back to the castle, clutching that old book tightly...

@Esailia@Meleck

While still somehow appearing somewhat composed the structure and leadership of Solaris was clearly cracking, behind the fissures in its walls brew sights of displeasure, unrest, undermining, distrust, plotting and fear.

Pleasantries came from behind jaded smiles, while conversations grew fake and of devious self interest. Secret meetings were happening around every corner and whispers abruptly stopped when ever a room was entered.

It didn’t take much to put Eliona at the head of the table but in her condition appearances and commands were scarce. There were still those that sought to defy her, especially since she was aided by an avian and a technologist.

Despite his charming support it was Roth Ivek-Patchel, head of the bards guilds, that seemed to be conspiring the most. Hision seemed to side with him along with Tholn.
The two large men creating an intimidating entourage beside the knowledge keeper.
His bards were spread far and wide, masters of rumours and culture they had ears everywhere. Roth however seemed to be carefully choosing what to share, when and to whom. Wielding this knowledge like a weapon.

Even the citizen began to grow divided, splitting into seperate sects and growing with unrest. Hision quelled their concerns with entertainment but his good deeds only seemed to cement his authority over them.

In the castle the servants seemed divided. Unsure who to follow some seemed to choose their own masters. Reluctant eye-rolls and poor, slow obedience was given to any lord who was not their own. Many found new positions within the house or were often found mid a secret or odd errand.

Still, no word of Drakus reached anyone’s ears. Tholn had spent much time scouting the wreckage with his wyvern rider forces, they brought back much for examination. While no proof was definitive, even he suddenly gave up.

---

Something unusual was happening.

Somewhere in the depths of the wilderness, a small group of beasts had gathered. The proud beasts that had fled Croania so long ago, that lived in isolation away from the prying eyes of the Akeshans, and more importantly, each other. Before them, three beastmen, bound by contract to serve.

“And so, we are all here,” one spoke at last. A gangly figure with arms and legs much too long for the rest of its body, walking like an animal. Its goat-like head was adorned with many more horns than any animal could ever have, accompanied by two sets of eyes that never closed, not even to blink. “At last. The time has come. That filthy being that calls itself the Mage Queen will die.” Murmurs of approval from the others.

But as always, beasts did not like to do their own dirty work. Neither was Croania a place for them - and so, the creature’s gaze shifted downwards. Three beastmen, a fourth to come later. It would be enough. It had to be.

“I trust there are no complaints?” One shook her head vigorously. She had green hair in impossible spirals, dressed in clothes that had been repaired and worn over and over until the entire thing had become patchwork. The second, a much taller man with fox-like ears, muttered something to himself, but that was all. The third, a young man with shaggy brown hair and lupine traits and his hackles raised, snorted loudly.

“None, now say what you wanna say and get on with it already,” he growled. For once his tone was low. He’d been humbled hard recently so his words lacked the usual bite to them, but this beastman was still far from a perfectly cooperative agent.

“What is that saying? Patience is a virtue?” it said, as slowly as it could. It chuckled, continuing at a regular pace. “But we are all sick of waiting. So I think I will.” The green haired girl laughed too, baring her sharp teeth.

“Don’t tease!”

“Of course not,” the goat-like creature continued. “Where was I? You are about to embark on a trip to Croania, by boat. It shall be... some weeks. You little ones are so slow.” It gnashed its teeth together. “From there you shall arrive at a port in Teglo. I have heard it is known for being filled with unsavory types, so there will be little hassle there. From there, seek out the woman named Eiris Itra. She won’t be far.”

The white-haired fox man grimaced. “And she looks like..?”

“Horns like a ram. That’s all. You’ll know when you see her.” He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. “I see that we don’t have time for more questions,” it said, giving Sarnic a pointed look. “So now, we will just be seeing you off. We wish you luck.” More murmurs from the rest of the beasts. “And ask the powers that be for your success.” The green haired girl spun on her heel, staring out at the border of the forest nearby, and the view of the sea not much further. The crowd of beasts began to dissipate as the girl began to run off towards the water. The taller man was soon to follow, walking quickly after her.

“We won’t need luck!” the wolfkin called after the larger beings as they made their way back into the depths of the forest. “Just keep your damn promises when we get back!”

He stared into the woods a few moments longer then kicked at the dirt before stalking off after the other two Akeshans. As soil gave way to sand, Sarnic snorted again and took in the view of the beach and the boat.

It was kind of small, for an ocean vessel at least.

He hopped in anyway, giving the wooden build a shove to make sure it would hold up. Then he lifted his bright eyes up to the cat and fox. “Which one of you is gonna sail this thing?”

The cat girl pointed at the other man before jumping into the boat as well. It rocked dangerously.

“You can’t be serious,” the fox huffed, looking around before stepping into the boat delicately. There was still space to move around, but there was no doubt that it would soon get claustrophobic. He stepped out. “If this is how it’s going to be, you’ll both have to do as I say before we all drown.” He gave the boat a light shove. It didn’t budge, but he didn’t look that strong either. “Let’s get this thing onto the water. Introductions after.”

Maybe it was the situation they’d found themselves in, or maybe it was just the wolf’s culture, but Sarnic came up to the edge of the ship and stared down at the taller man, baring his teeth in a tight grin.

“How about you do what I say? If yer scared of drownin’ just make sure you follow my orders and keep the boat upright!" He was clearly used to being in charge. An alpha male, if you will. The brunette stepped off the side of the vessel and landed beside the fox-man. A show of strength was in order, so Sarnic pushed on the boat until it was floating in the shallows.

“If you wanna give input then give it, but I’m gonna have the last say. Especially when we get to Crowhatevera.”

“And we haven’t even left Ashket,” the man huffed. “I’ll argue with you later. I suggest that we get the boat in the water. And then you can sail it to Croania yourself, huh?”

Sarnic seemed to have ignored the man, pushing the boat out until it was in deep enough to get going. Once that was through he stalked right back over the fox and snatched the man's collar, dragging him a bit into the water and bodily tossing him over the side of the ship before climbing up the side himself. What you couldn't solve with words, solve with violence! Once back on the ship Sarnic shook himself free of water and gave the green haired girl a pointed look.

"Not gonna have a problem with you, am I?"

She blinked, pointing at herself. “Me? Jezebel. No problem at all.” She shuffled to the side as the fox sat up, almost snarling. “And you... Sonnola, Sarnic,” she said, pointing at each of them. “Father mentioned. Can we go?”

The wolf grinned. Jezebel, huh? He liked her much more than ‘Sonnola’ already. Sarnic nodded over at the fox in question, daring him to back up the vicious look on his face. If anything a quick scuffle would let Sarnic blow off some steam.

“Let’s get movin’, huh, Sonnola?” Sarnic said. Truth be told, he knew the bare minimum about sailing. His tribe lived deep in the forests, the most water they were used to seeing were rivers and streams, sometimes a bog. Still, he figured it was some kind of wind-powered thing. That was what a sail was after all.

“We’ll help out to get this thing ‘cross the ocean, but just remember who’s in charge,” he reminded, volunteering Jezebel while he was at it. The rest of the set up went surprisingly smoothly. The sooner they could set off, the sooner they would be off the damned boat...

...the instant they were moving in the right direction, Sonnola dropped to the floor, making himself comfortable. “We’ll be sailing in a straight line for a while. Shouldn’t be much of a problem unless the wind changes. As long as someone’s always awake, they can get me up if we start turning.” He narrowed his eyes at his companions. “Killing the queen of that continent? What have you two got up your sleeves, then? I don’t expect some kind of weakling to attempt something like that.”

At the stern, Sarnic had thrown most of his top layers off and sat watching the waves move behind the boat. His first time on a true sailing vessel had him a little queasy, but he was doing a great job of hiding that and appeared to be hunched and brooding instead. Still, at Sonnola’s question he looked over his shoulder at the man.

“D’you really think huntin’ some human down and killin’ ‘em and their guards is gonna be that hard?” he questioned, genuine confusion touching his voice. Of course, this was a “Queen” they were after, obviously it wouldn’t be a stroll in the park, but the wolf Akeshan wasn’t expecting to walk into a war.

“Find her, ambush her, cut her throat,” he said simply, “I don’t need any tricks to take down my prey.

....but,” he added after a moment, turning to face the other two Akeshans in full. “That fuckin’ monster did give me a contract, same as you I bet.”

“I suppose you’ve never lived anywhere with that kind of monarch. Neither have either of us,” Sonnola said, jerking a thumb at Jezebel, who had stuck one of her arms into the water, “but I did spend some time in the Court.” He shivered slightly. “I wouldn’t doubt that woman is surrounded by those who would rather die before we even get to touch her. This is an assassination, not a hunt. Now, tell us what you can do so we can put together some kind of plan while we’re stuck at sea for the next twenty days.”

“What did I say earlier about rememberin’ whose in charge?” Sarnic snapped, getting to his feet and stalking over to Sonnola. “If you don’t watch it yer gonna see just what I can do first hand.”

Taking Sonnola’s words as a challenge wasn’t out of the ordinary for the Dimutic tribe member, and facing opposition like from his own tribe and clan members was something that might have actually brought some familiar feelings to Sarnic. Still, he really preferred fighting out problems, and that was surely what an attitude would lead to. Standing above the fox, Sarnic breathed out heavily, and mixed with his breath was a dense cloud of vapor. It leaked from his mouth and settled on the deck, and when it kept pouring out it rolled off the sides or rose into the air, creating a thick fog. Once he snapped his mouth shut, the fog stopped coming and eventually the ship would leave the clouds he generated behind. Sonnola’s lips curved into a thin smile.

“If that had been any less impressive, I would have thrown you off of this boat,” he said. “Now, I-”

“Done!” Jezebel chirped, pulling her arm out of the water. She dried it off with her clothes, then looked out at the sea. All around, in the water, fish had risen up to the surface, dead. Every few seconds, a new one would float up to join the rest. Jezebel picked one out, holding it by the tail. “Safe to eat. But too many, you can’t move. Fine after an hour.”

She gave an expectant look to her companions. “Poison.”

With a toothy grin of approval Sarnic approached the green haired Akeshan and took the fish off her hands, giving it a whiff then biting into it - testing the poison’s strength, perhaps?

“Useful,” he appraised, scooping out a few more fish before they drifted by and depositing them onto the deck. How exactly the poison worked was a good question, but Sarnic was particularly interested to see if Sonnola could back up his bark.

“Okay, and what about you?”

“This can be a little dangerous,” he warned. “Especially since this boat is wooden.” He reached into the bag he had brought and pulled out a shallow bowl. It quickly began to fill with a clear liquid, but stopped soon after. “My range is quite large,” he said. “But there’s more to it. I have... acquired a second contract, after a fair amount of bargaining.” He snapped his fingers, and the liquid ignited. After a few seconds, he tossed the bowl’s contents over the side of the boat, leaving nothing behind but the unmistakable stench of alcohol. “I’m also a skilled archer, and I know a fair bit about poisons. Making them, that is, if any get into your blood, I’ll leave you to die. Satisfied?”

“Yeah,” Sarnic said honestly. He watched the bowl sink then turned back and tossed a poisoned fish the fox’s way. “Smells like fermented fruits. It’d be double useful if we could drink it too.”

“You can.” He caught the fish, giving it a wary look. “But you shouldn’t. Wait until we’re done, and we can have a drinking party while that entire continent dissolves into chaos.”

Jezebel didn’t hesitate. She took a large bite out of her fish, chewing with her mouth open. Sonnola looked away. “Cro-crowanya,” she said. “Croania! Is it like Ashket?”

“Not the wilderness, no,” the fox replied. He seemed satisfied, having seen Jezebel eat the fish, so he took a cautious bite of his own. “I’ve heard there isn’t nearly as much forest over there as there is here. And what, they all live in buildings? Sounds like a horrific waste of space to me. Where do they hunt?”

Sarnic grunted and plopped himself down on the deck, eating his own fish. “You said you were in the Court before. Prolly like that. What the hell was that even like anyway?”

“I see what you mean. It wasn’t entirely what I’ve heard Croania’s like, but apparently it’s similar. There’s a lot more buildings there than anywhere in the wilderness. More organised, but there’s still plenty of space there for good hunting.” Sonnola gave him a dark look. “The people there? Fanatics, the lot of them. It was all Corach this, Corach that. I’m glad I got out, if only to get dragged onto whatever this is supposed to be.” He gestured to the boat. Jezebel gave a sad look to the vehicle, and Sarnic paused in his chewing to fix the man with a strange stare.

“...? It’s a boat.”

Collab with @Aviaire

@Esailia

Rendyl - In the Solaris keep.

Passing the door to Drakus’s personal greeting room, Rendyl is alarmed to hear hush whispers coming from inside the masters quarters from behind a closed door.
Two swift voices flew back and forth in some sort of swift nervous altercation.

The Avian blinked in confusion, no one should’ve been using the Master's greeting room. She stepped a little closer to the door and listened, trying to figure out what was being said.

The whispers continued back and forth, short and sharp, carrying forceful determination while trying to be as subtle and as quietly as they could..

“Take it!”
“No I don’t want to.”
“Please! Just do it.”
“No, I’m not getting involved.”
“Shhwehfde hmmmble” the voices hush before stopping.

Rendyl straightened, tucking that old book she hasn’t let go of since returning to Solaris under one arm, before pushing the door open. She was the head of the guard, so she had every right to confront whoever was meeting behind closed doors. She stepped in, holding beside the door frame to take stock of the room.

It was a lovely room, small and extravagant with lush chairs and a fine dining table in the center. Everything was in place except for the two intruders standing next to a bookshelf, huddling around a dim candle light. A fearful expression of shock suddenly caught their faces as they turned to face Rendyl.
The avian recognised both of the young servants. One was the maid who had accompanied Abbie to harrows tower. She still wore the bandages of her injuries and nursed a broken arm.
The other was a new court bard of the acrobatic field, who upon discovery quickly retreated his hand from the maid and shoved an object into his inner coat.

Both just stared at rendyl, dumbfound and silent, a streak of fear running through their expressions over a terrible guilty smile.

The guard looked sternly at the maid, then sent a scathing glare to the bard. She didn’t participate in politics very much, but even she knew what the bard’s guild was up to nowadays. Raising her voice, she spoke with a hardly used authority “Why are you using the Lord’s greeting room? No one is allowed in here without permission.”

She looked the bard up and down, noting his attempt to hide something in his attire “And what is that? A weapon? I will remind you that only House Guards may carry arms in the castle. Show me what it is you have.”

With an open mouth and trembling knees, words failed to escape from the young bards paling face. With obedience he removed a thin sealed unopened envelope and held it out.

“Nn, no miss. Not a weapon. H, here miss. I found this.”
He eventually managed to stammer, his words nearly shaking more than his hands.

“Found.” She rolled her eyes and reached her hand out to the bard to grab the envelope, the tone obviously unbelieving. Rendyl examined both sides before looking back up to the pair, her attention diverted to the maid for a moment “And why are you here exchanging hushed words?”

The envelope was plain and of simple parchment, an unmarked wax seal held it closed.

The maid looked to the bard, her eyes apologetic as she spoke. Not knowing what else to say she spoke the truth, putting loyalty above friendship.
“He dragged me in here.”
She said softly, her eyes falling to the floor.

“Hmm….restraining a young woman in a room reserved for the Lord, and an envelope you ‘found’. Let’s see what’s inside, hm?” The Angel of Sol used a fingernail to dig under the lip of the envelope, tearing the top neatly across before looking inside.

The wax seal surprisingly melted away into a slimy sludge when torn, it marked all that it touched as it slid down the parchment and would leave a red stain if coming into contact with skin.
The note inside was written with in the most basic and neat lettering.

-Meet me at the arena gardens tomorrow morning at the extinguish of the first lights.
I don’t wish to be your enemy, all I ask is for you to deliver a gift.-

((The arena gardens are a shady open area situated behind the grand arena between the slums and the graveyard. During the day children rough-house to the sounds of distant cheers while at night, less savoury dealings occur free from the scrutiny of town guards.))

Victor Moltke, Abigail Harlow and Meredith Shieldbreaker

Location: Balaur, Moltke estate

---

---

The sun shone hot and unforgiving upon the Balaurian soil but the lush and rolling hills of the Moltke family vineyards sucked up all the heat and sunlight in bushel after bushel of fat, ripening grapes. To look upon the flourishing wildlife in these acres and consider that, within the same nation's borders, the lash was cracking upon the spine of a sweatsoaked and grimy slave miner in a pit of gravel and dust was almost maddening. This chunk of southern land was well kept, maintained, and guarded by Victor's small military force as well as his peasantry who found the quantity of produce they were given as payment more than enough to trade and profit from. The place was an oasis in a dystopia, the product of decades of refinement and planning. It was Victor's magnum opus and his testing grounds. And, on this particular afternoon, it was also full of around a dozen yipping little Pomeranians.

Each pom had their own collar with an elaborate name plate studded into the back. Sir Leopold IV was busy relieving himself on the vines whilst Timothy Pilsworth Jr snuffled the overturned turf of a wagon track. A delegation of Pomeranians were also attempting to liberate themselves from their leashes, weaving and twisting them together as Lord Oswald Remington and Lady Welwing-Trillard II gnawed at the leather straps with unruly abandon. Abigail kept trying to disentangle herself from the chaos. A pom was bumping into her heels as she worked the leashes with a sort of frantic fluidity that comes from hastily learning how to deal with a litany of tiny dogs in a short space of time. Several places in front of her, Meredith and Victor strolled the less beaten path and took in the view with an air of quiet reflection.

Meredith actually had to pause for a half-pace as one of the dogs ran in front of her feet to deposit a stick for fetching. She looked at it, ignored it and kept going, which resulted in Abigail getting harangued by yet another tiny dog wanting to play. “One of these days I'll step on your little hounds and it'll cost me a fortune in veterinary bills," bemoaned Meredith to Victor. “Why couldn't you get a real breed of dog? One that's actually useful around a farm."

”Because they always try to prove themselves. It’s almost poetic.” he stared affectionately at one of the many balls of fur scurrying around them, hands still clasped behind his back as he led their afternoon walk onwards amongst the buzzing of distant insects and chatter of his estates labourers.

“Speaking of. Do you think your squire is ready?” Meredith didn't look behind her at Abigail, which was probably for the best as the girl was in the process of unwrapping a leash from around her leg. “It's quite a delicate mission you're sending her on even without the threat of war hanging over us.”

”We were both taught to swim by being thrown into the deep end of the spring. So will she. Delicate, intense planning is just as important to seizing opportunities. Better now then before war comes any closer. Besides, I would rather send someone with complete loyalty to negotiate with people who are technically our enemy.”

Meredith hesitated instead of retorting as she thought about what Victor had said. With some resignation, she exhaled grimly through her nose. “You’re right. Had the peace talk attack never occurred, we wouldn’t be in all of this mess. Best to send her out early and see what she’s made of. I’m more partial to sending you, but we need you here to rally the other knights and nobles.”

”Exactly. We all need to pull our weight moving on from here.”

“When will you be sending her out?”

”Now. Before the conflict escalates into either northern or southern lands. The North can’t afford to lock themselves into another drawn out war so they will most likely act decisively, whether it will be successful is up to them. We however can’t allow ourselves to be dragged into it but also want to be on the winners side.”

”Now?”

The pomeranians were swarming Abigail’s ankles and yapping excitedly because she stopped walking. ”Wuh-...what do you mean now, you mean -now- now? As in, when we get back? B-but I’m not ready yet! I haven’t even packed!” Flustered, Abigail rushed over to the two knights and nearly tripped over a pom in the process.

”I’m not sending you to bear a nobleman's child. I’m sending you to negotiate on my behalf. This won’t be a grand ceremonial visit, it’s the -north- you’re going to. Discretion and speed is our top priority.”

”So no Balaurian colours or anything? I guess I’ll wear some armour-...or at least pack some. What about documentation? What do I bring for paperwork, don’t you think the border controls will be more severe? Do they need anything from the manifesto?” Meredith took the leashes from Abigail almost out of habit as she wrangled the dogs and let the girl speak.

Victor finally turned to rest his gaze on her, ”You’re fearful. Don’t be.” he commented before turning back to continue his walk which was now more of a long thoughtful pace. ”It’s still -just- a diplomatic mission you’re being sent off on, not a bloody assassination. You’ll have a small retinue of guards along with you as well, nothing eye-catching, just enough for your own protection due to the… climate.”

”I’ve never had my own guards before. Do they have to like...sleep in the same room as me? Do they know as much as we do?” Abigail scurried along at Victor’s heels, anxiously fiddling with her hands and fingers now that she didn’t have any dogs to keep a hold of.

”What? They’re not dogs! They’re guards! They’re to follow your orders and keep you safe.” he paused for a bit. ”They -are- like dogs. And if it’s your wish for them to so badly sleep in your room then those are details I ask you -not- to tell me about.”

Meredith laughed loudly as Abigail went beet red and covered her face. ”N-no! Nonono! I’m a professional, I promise! I’ve just never had a guard before, that’s all!”

”You just focus on that wonderful charm of yours and getting our desires across to the houses of the north. Your escorts will worry about actually getting you there, whether that’s us having to go as far as to smuggle you across the border or just pass controls.”

Abigail rubbed her cheeks, still blushing furiously. ”M’not…-charming- anybody. I’m a professional,” she huffed. Desperate to get away from the conversation before Meredith inevitably took a jab at her to freak her out again, Abigail raised herself to her full height. ”Then I’ll have to get back to the estate and pack my things so that you two can check to see if I forgot anything before I leave. If you’ll excuse me...”

They had excused her, for a time. They let Abigail fuss and delay things, pack and re-pack and go around saying her goodbyes well into the afternoon. Yet the oncoming dusk hastened their need to get on the road in order to make some distance before dawn, hopefully using the cover of night to allow Abigail to slip away from the estate largely unnoticed. A trio of soldiers were selected for this task and they were stood - or rather, sat or lounging - by their steeds, lighting a pipe and waiting for the young heiress to finally emerge from her bedroom. Meredith had taken out some paperwork to do, having known around an hour ago that this was inevitable. “You’re going to have to pry her from there,” she warned Victor. “You know she doesn’t want to leave.” Her voice was soft and betrayed her concern for the squire but her actions showed her typical impassiveness to Abigail’s fragile emotions.

”She’s no babe. She will come.”

“The last time she had to leave home she thought she was marrying you. That’s traumatic enough to make her stall.” Meredith offered him a lopsided grin in the half-light of the evening, swatting away an errant firefly.

"No, no, I'm here.” Abigail came out with her pack and her riding gear, pale with her jaw set.

“You look like you're going to be sick,” Meredith commented.

Abigail shot her a look. "In my defence, this is going to be a little bit harder than writing sums and walking dogs,” she retorted, rubbing her forearms as she braced against the cooling night air. She walked past Victor and ignored his studious glare as she saddled Munchkin and made a quick inventory check. The other guards were roused into action, similarly checking the stirrups and girths on their Balaurians to make sure that everything was ready for a long ride.

”The Journey will be long and if all goes to plan many things will have changed here by the time you’re back. Hopefully for the better.” he stood before the girl, hands finally unclasping from behind his back.

”If I make it back at all, that is.” The tone was light-hearted but the expression was uncertain. Abigail clutched onto a stirrup for dear life.

”You will. You are still one of mine.” he reached out to pull her into a deep hug. ”And do not forget that. Do not let anyone talk down upon you, keep your head high no matter how they choose to respond to you.”

Abigail chuckled weakly. ”Even when you're trying to comfort me you still throw in a couple of orders...” but she trailed off, hugging him back tightly and pressing her face into his chest. Her shoulders shook for a brief moment but she regained her composure and finally let go. Mounting her pony, Abigail took one last look at the sprawling hills of the Moltke estate and trotted down the path onto the main road, heading northward for a long and arduous journey.

ELLIOT HOLDT - Fort Braemur

---

He cut himself shaving this morning.

It was a nick just under his left ear. The guys beside him had a good chuckle about it while he grumbled and felt around for his towel. It was as insignificant as it could be, nothing compared to the cuts and bruises and taunting he traded at sparring on a daily basis. Still stongeing stung though.

He was to be better than this. He was a Captain – no, more than a Captain now! He needed to keep his composure in the days (years?) to come. If a mere summons was enough to rattle him, then an actual battlefield would…

Elliot gulped.

What would Henrik have done in his place? Charged forward with a grin, ready to lay down his life for his House? He should have been the one striding towards B204. Elliot was no warrior. He found no delight in dominance, no ecstasy in bloodshed. They wanted him to be a leader, but he lacked the boldness it took to thrive in war.

Ah. War.

“Oh tomes, this is really happening,” he moaned and crumpled against the wall of the hallway. A pair of officers regarded him as they passed by. He could feel his complexion beginning to match his hair.

He just wanted to do right by his people. He wanted to hug his mother. He wanted to hold Ilya in his arms again. Mere letters weren’t enough, had never been enough.

A good lot of the garrison would deem him selfish. There were many better suited for this position. Decent men who’d give their right hand for it. Personally, Elliot didn’t give a crap about the House or the South. All he needed was for Redline, his family that resided in it, to be in one piece on the day he finally gets discharged.

Strength was returning to his legs.

Yes. He may lack the spine of a Captain but he still had a reason to be one.

He breathed deeply. He straightened his dress uniform. He smoothed a thumb over the bandaid on his cheek. And he entered the room.

“A-Armored Captain Holdt, present and ready to serve. Sir!”

Erika Sid

---

A post at a military outfit huh?

Strange, and kind of weird, she would say. Last she checked those uptight, multiple sticks in arse sort of types won't really have anything to do with her kind. Erika, of course, provided practical solutions to problems. Not philosophical kinds, but the kind that she solves with a high speed projectile to the face when paid well. A mercenary working for the highest bidder.

And because they were paying so well, she was here sneering at the handler in room B204. Her chair creaked precariously as she balanced on two legs, rocking slightly back and forth in boredom. Maybe she shouldn't have gone so early, but she was very very curious about the entire affair. Plus, getting to look at some military armaments wouldn't be so bad.

“A-Armored Captain Holdt, present and ready to serve. Sir!”

"Hah? This limp dicked boy is going to be my partner?"

He looked like he was about to soil his pants, even though he was about as tall as she was. Well, taller and broader. She wasn't really tall as it was she had longer legs.

𝔽ort 𝔹raemur

---

“Oh, good, you’re here.” The clerk sighed with relief as the Captain stepped into the room. “Please, sit down.” He gestured to one of the chairs.

“Sadly, General Felt was unable to attend due to a slight stomach bug. I am his secretary, and will be briefing you in his stead.” He ran his fingers through his thinning red hair and adjusted his spectacles. “Ahem. As part of the newly instated Project Plover, you two will be transferred to the Infantry Corps. West Division. I have here your papers of transfer as well as your travel documents. Ms. Sid, your pay stubs for the job are also contained within this packet. Once you arrive at the West Division’s base, you can hand them the one for next week as well as a small report of your developments.”

“Oh, of course, you need to know what your job is.” The clerk set down a packet of papers on the desk in front of the two. “More specific terms are outlined within, but the general idea is thus: Ms. Sid, regardless of your past and… interesting physique, you are an accomplished inventor and an asset to Northern Croania. We would like you to travel with Captain Holdt here, learn the ins and outs of a Kothlin power suit, and work on enhancing and developing it in any way you can. To further this task, the two of your will head to the Dalris front and engage in direct combat.”

He nodded. “Be grateful. This will be the first large-scale combat Croania has seen in centuries. It is the prime time to enhance and develop our technology. Of course, there will be benefits. Captain, your stipend will increase by 50%, sent directly to your immediate family. Your wife, I believe.”

“You two have… one day to prepare and make goodbyes. I would not recommend dallying. The train from here to West Blackston leaves once a week- the day after tomorrow for you two. Pack for a longer journey, I’d say a couple months. Any questions?”

Rathas stood at the prow of the Kiana. She was still bound in the tin-lined ropes from before, but otherwise was given freedom of movement around the deck. Tobias had clearly taken her at her word.

They had arrived at Waterside, a town further south in Pachelian territory. As the Kiana pulled in to dock, the classical odors of a port wormed their way into her nostrils: salt, sweat, and shit. It was an odd place to put an estate, considering Tobias had said it was where the Graves family manor was. Only she and Tobias would disembark here. Her former crewmates would continue on southward towards Bellonia, the Pachelian capital, to await trial.

A pair of sailors threw a plank onto the dock. Tobias led her off the ship and into an office at the end of the port. It was one of those tiny clerk’s offices, the kind where one would sit inside and document all that went by. A mousey man with a receding grey hairline opened the window.

“Mr. Graves, you’re back. Did everything go well?” he asked in a not-unfriendly tone.

“Well enough. We met our goals, at a cost. I suspect you’ll hear more about it in the paper.” Tobias frowned. “Call me a carriage.”

The clerk turned and pulled at a string, ringing a bell somewhere. Within minutes, a carriage drawn by a horse pulled up next to the small office.

It was just her and Tobias, alone, in the carriage. It started moving, wheels clacking on the cobblestones beneath. He leaned back in the seat opposite her, and met her eyes. "Well, Miss Rathas, we are now on our way to the Graves Family estate. I trust the rest of the ride suited you well? I apologize for keeping your hands tied, but I need to ensure the safety of everyone around us.”

"Do you start small talk with every prisoner you take?"

Tobias's eye twitched. "I'm speaking because you're an important asset. A dangerous asset, but important nonetheless."

Those words reminded her that she carried enough power to properly challenge the corruption that drove her prior leave. The fear she expected was replaced by drive.

"Then spill. What do you want to say?"

"I suppose there is no hiding it. The Graves Family is in... dire straits. Ever since, well, you blew a hole in the family manor and left, the family hasn't been the same. My uncle- excuse me, your father has plunged the family finances far into the red. Furthermore, he drinks continually in his room and refuses to leave. His gate is still strong, and as such nobody dares to challenge him. I do not know whether he truly loved you or viewed you as a political piece- only that he took the loss rather hard." Tobias leaned back. "I will make no pretense. Right now, the Graves Family is a sinking ship. Someone with a legitimate claim to lead may save it. That first step necessitates a... change in power."

It was becoming very evident that Tobias knew less than he might hope to. He was unaware of the dungeons, unaware of their twisted bloodline. She held her tongue for a moment, then replied. "Why do you devote yourself so wholly to this house?"

"It is a matter of pride," he said. "For the family, I will do anything to better it- even if that means replacing the head."

"And you've never sought the position yourself?"

"I am incapable of filling it." Tobias summoned his gate and splashed a bit of acid on the floor, slightly eroding the wood. The smell of decay wafted throughout the carriage. Rathas cringed at the singed wood with money on her mind. Nothing a rug wouldn't fix, though. "The family will only accept a leader with strong magic. I cannot do much more than this."

“That’s ridiculous.”

He nodded. "That it is. But, Rathas, here is my question. Why did you leave the family? You must know the amount of suffering it caused. Did you not think about your actions beforehand?"

"I was just a child. It’s in our blood to be rash."

Tobias frowned. "So you turned to piracy."

"Petty theft, first. But, yes, piracy."

"What in the way of education did you receive out on your own?"

The prisoner raised an eyebrow. "I was taught basic writing and arithmetic by my mentor."

"...you didn't learn those skills before you ran?" Tobias asked, incredulous.

"No.”

Tobias was silent for a moment. "What other skills did you pick up? The sword? Sailing?"

"Yeah, both, somewhat. From Hal."

"I assume you didn't learn much in the way of politics."

"Politics hardly matter amongst pirates."

"Hmm. We have a lot of work to do." Tobias knocked on the hatch behind him and slid it open. [color=d8cfbe]"How long until the estate?"

"Jus' pullin' up on it here, sirrah," drawled the driver.

"Excellent. Miss Rathas, steel yourself. Are you willing to completely change yourself and help shape this family's future?" Tobias asked the ridiculous question with a completely straight face. At least it was easier to stifle her chuckle when faced with such brute earnestness.

“Alright, Tobias. Just lead the way.”

The carriage stopped. Tobias opened the door and climbed out.

Looming before them was a wrought-iron gate just tall enough to stand out as odd. A large stone eagle stood at the top, staring down at any visitors.

The family motto and coat of arms on the stone wall were faded and completely illegible. Through the gate, Rathas could see that the grass was uncut, the flower beds were overgrown, and the paint on the manor walls deteriorated. Her memory of the place, foggy as it was, painted a less dilapidated picture. Now, the entire estate sat in a sort of gloom.

Tobias looked away. "We're here. It isn't pretty, but, well, it's nicer inside.”

She smirked. "I believe you." With a heavy step, Rathas exited the carriage. She expected, even hoped that something inside might properly rattle her memory.

"We will have to get you cleaned up and in new clothes." Tobias began to walk towards the house, then stopped. "I suppose I must free you of your bonds as well. Do not try anything."

His dagger pushed through the rope around her wrists. Immediately she felt the needles of numbness dancing through her hands. She rolled her arms and gave her hands a good shake, welcoming herself back.

Tobias led her down a stone path leading towards the front entrance. "We're going in through one of the secret doors," he explained. "I don't want anybody knowing we're back yet."

He brushed aside a bush and led her to a back entrance, then heaved open a camouflaged stone door. A bat flew out, screeching as its dark abode was disturbed. Rathas flinched.

"There should be..." He fumbled around the entrance. "Aha." He pulled out an emerald gemlight and uncovered it, bathing the antiquated entrance in green light. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of the same grey brick. Though some slight water damage had aged it, it was almost perfectly uniform. "Follow me." He strode in, slightly hunching to avoid scraping his head. Rathas followed wordlessly. Between the tight corridor and Tobias's hunched back, she couldn't make out how far the exit was, or if there was one.

He stopped after about a minute. "Right here, I think..." He knocked twice and pushed. The wall opened, spilling light into the hidden corridor. After Rathas' eyes adjusted, she realized that she was looking into a woman's room. A large four-poster dominated the far wall, and several armoires stood to her left. Their doors were open, and she could see that they were mostly empty. On the other side, there was a cabinet with a mirror atop it and a writing desk.

Tobias pushed the secret door closed- it was a bookshelf on this side. "She should be coming back soon..." He mused. "My sister, that is. Erm... she is also your half-sister..."

Maybe, Rathas thought. Maybe. "It's a nice room."

"That it is. She should be able to clean you up somewhat-"

The door opened.

"And you know, I said, 'that shouldn't even be legal!' But it totally is, you know?"

The opener of the door was a dark-haired girl in a long, light blue dress. She was talking to a woman in a servants uniform.

"I'll... talk to you later, Jill. My brother's here." The girl shooed the woman away, then stepped inside. She had a youthful face- probably no older than 15 or 16.

"Toby, you're back! How was your mission? Did you beat up some pirates? Are you injured? Who is this... scuffled woman, and why is she here? Ooh, have you finally found a girl you like? Are you two in love?" She rushed forward and seized Rathas's hands. "Tobias can be such a bore, I should know."

"Elina... This is Rathas. Rathas Graves. She's your half-sister by a different mother. I found her with the pirates."

Rathas gave an exasperated smile. "Hey there."

"Oh my! You're... you're the reason why Father is... it's good to finally put a face to a name." Elina turned to Tobias. "She's your 'solution,' isn't she?"

"Yes. Help her in any way you can. When the two of you are finished, meet me outside. I must get cleaned up as well." Tobias gave an awkward sort of hug to Elina and left the room.

"Anais above, he can be such an idiot sometimes. I assume he wants you cleaned up and presentable?" Elina looked Rathas up and down. "You definitely could use a bath. Here, use mine. If Toby came in by the backdoor, I guess he doesn't want you using the House Baths. Not that they work, anyways. Did he tell you that everything's rather broken now? I haven't had a proper meal since last year."

She directed Rathas to the bathroom. Interestingly enough, the Graves manor was outfitted with a strange metal tube over the tub.

"What's this?" she asked, nodding towards the shower.

"Oh, it's a Northern 'shower.' It's one of the last things Father actually got round to properly installing before he stopped doing anything entirely. You turn that knob and water comes out. It starts out cold, but you can balance it with warmer water by turning it further. We keep a heated tank in the basements. It's all quite ingenious, really. Northerners can be so resourceful sometimes! You can use the curtain to block water. I have soap and hair solution right over here, use those. I'll get you some new clothes, too. I'm guessing you'd prefer something more... masculine?" Her enthusiasm was completely juxtaposed to Tobias's grueling monotone. A welcome change.

"Whatever's easiest on me and you. Thank you, by the way." Rathas relaxed and smiled to herself. The prospect of family seemed much more realistic now.

"No problem! It's been so long since there's been another girl even close to my age around here." Elina smiled. "I'll leave you be while I scrounge up what clothes I can find. Take your time. You, uh, smell like you need it." She left the washroom, closing the door behind her.

Rathas wiggled knobs in the shower until it turned on, and stepped in, oblivious to and unshaken by the frigid water. All she could think about was Elina. Was that really her sister? By blood? There was too much doubt to conclude anything then, but she wanted it to be so.

The curtain still hung wrinkled up against the wall, and a puddle was starting to form on the tile. Rathas realized that the water had turned scalding hot and hastily climbed out. She would master this "shower" another time.

A more realistic and time efficient approach to hygiene at that moment was the bathtub in the opposite corner of the room. Absently, Rathas drew water and began washing herself. Only a few minutes passed before she stood and toweled off. It was common etiquette on the Ironmaw to bathe briskly. After she finished, she grabbed the towel and exited the bathroom. Elina was sitting at her desk, reading a book. Pachelian Politics: A History.

"Ah! You're done! That was fast!" She stood up and set the book on her desk. "I got you a shirt and pants, plus new undergarments. The style's a bit old- I think it's from two years ago. It should be fine, though. Gimme your towel, I'll have it cleaned." She wrinkled her nose. "Or burned."

A laugh escaped the freshly de-musked pirate. "Appreciate it." She threw her towel by Elina's chair and started putting on her clothes.

"Oh my. You've certainly got... a lot of injuries. And you're so fit, too! That's very good! If Toby really wants you to lead Graves, being strong will help. Not like me, you know." She laughed. "I've been inside my whole life. Practicing politics, maybe, but I envy that sort of power over yourself."

"You study politics?"

"I'm afraid I have to, at this point. Not the most ladylike thing, but you see Esme Nols and Alana Pachel doing it, so it must be fine. Toby's the hands, and I'm building myself to be the brain." She picked up the book and flipped through it. "Though, with you around, I suppose we'll both have to learn such things."

A knock came from the door. "Finished?" Tobias's muffled voice floated through.

"And here's the bore," sighed Elina. "Come in!"

Tobias entered, dressed in a fresh uniform and freshly washed. "Everything fine?"

"Yes, yes, I was just talking to Rath about politics. I'm so happy to have a fellow conspirator."

"Never mind that! How did you forget to tell me that Jevin Pachel is dead?!" Tobias threw a newspaper onto the desk. "This changes everything!"

Rathas looked up at the siblings. They were outpacing her by a healthy margin. Thankfully, Elina noticed her confusion.

"Okay, Rath, here's your first lesson. House Pachel's rule is determined by election, not birth. Specifically, that means a low-born family like us that's only barely related to the 'main line' can become the main line."

"Or, we can curry favor with the new ruling family and try to increase our situation, which is what I was thinking." Tobias sat on the bed. "First thing's first, though. We need to speak to your father- and by speak, I mean persuade him to hand over power."

"You don't make that sound easy."

"It won't be. But perhaps seeing you will shock him to reason. If not... we can..." Tobias stumbled on his words.

"We can kill Father. Damned stonge needs to die sometime, might as well be now." Elina said pointedly. "Tobias, the goody-two-shoes, just can't say something like that."

"...That is correct."

Rathas was very clearly not opposed to the idea as long as it made all of their lives easier. Hell, she was almost positive that this man was not her own father, and harbored little compassion for whoever was. "...Repercussions?"

"Well... I'm sure nobody would particularly care if we just... said that he died of alcohol poisoning, would they? Nothing a little bit of money wouldn't solve."

"Sadly, Elina, that is something we are rather short on at the moment." Tobias sighed. "Still, there isn't really anybody who actively supports Uncle. So... k-k-... changing power like that wouldn't be that much of an issue."

"Then it's unanimous." It had only been about a half hour at the manor and they were already plotting a proper political assassination.

"Alright." Tobias stood. "It's only the plan B, anyway. Hopefully it doesn't come to that. Rathas, are you prepared to meet Uncle right now?"

"Immediately?" Elina asked, horrified. "Surely she could have some time to prepare herself?"

"This time of day, only a single maid waits on him outside. No better opportunity than the present."

"Let's get to it.” Rathas agreed with Tobias. There was only time to waste.

"Very well. Elina? Do you wish to come?"

She nodded. "If history is being made, then I wanna be a witness."

They left the room and stepped up a flight of stairs. Rathas noticed that there were no servants around the manor as they walked through the halls. The wallpaper was starting to peel at some corners, and there was definitely the sound of a rat or two in the walls.

Eventually, they came to a large red door with a maidservant standing outside. A small string ran out from a hole above the door, linked to a bell.

"This is it," said Tobias. "Leave us," he said to the servant. She nodded and walked away.

"Ready?" He asked.

Rathas reached past Tobias, twisted the doorknob, and pushed open the door.

The strong stench of alcohol floated out the open door, invading her nostrils with its rank odor. It wasn't quite as bad as the pirates' revelry, but for one man it was far too much. Her eyes watered slightly. Behind her, Elina broke out into a cough.

The room behind the door was in absolute disarray. Various items of clothing were strewn across the floor, and empty bottles of various wines cluttered every step. Where there was no clothing or glass, there was an odd green... thing growing on the carpet. Probably some sort of mold.

At the center of the room was a large bed. The sheets looked freshly cleaned, save for a few odd stains from wine here and there. A few trays of food lay at the foot of the bed.

And of course, there was the man in the bed. He lay on his back, propped up on pillows, lightly dozing. He looked to be getting on in years, likely around 60 or 70. His retreating hairline was the same color as Rathas's. A few liver spots covered the shiny parts of his head. His eyes slowly opened.

"Who is it?" He asked in a scratchy voice. "Jill, I told you not to come in unless you got that new brew from Perker's."

"It is Tobias, along with Elina and a guest." Tobias stood at the door, unmoving.

"You- gachk!" The man spat some black phlegm onto the carpet. "-may enter."

"Peloston Graves," Tobias said, stepping over the threshold. "I bring today the rightful heir to the Graves Family- your daughter, Rathas Graves. You've wasted the family fortune for far too long. It's time we had a change in leadership. Hand over control."

"...Rathas? Really?" Peloston laughed, a dry hacking cough that scratched Rathas's inner eardrums. "Come in, girl. Let's have a look at ye."

Rathas took a few steady steps, planting herself next to the man's bed. She looked down at the sorry sod, digging into his eyes with her own.

"Hm... What do you think of the Graves Family now...?" He met her gaze. His eyes were milky and clouded over.

"Don't waste my time, old man."

"Hah. Waste..? Don't act like you haven't benefited from your upbringing. Have some respect for your progenitors. What've you been up to for all these years, huh?"

She ignored his question. "We need you to relinquish your position. Do not make this difficult."

"And yet you show on my doorstep and claim rights to my belongings. What's to say you're really-"

Before Peloston could finish his sentence, the gate that sank the Ironmaw flooded the room with a hellish shade of orange. It hovered crackling and sizzling two feet above Peloston's crusty eyes. The ice in Rathas’s stare shot through the burning runes.

"Is this what you wanted to see?"

He laughed again. His eyes opened wide, exposing the full whites. "Incredible! A true masterpiece! The product of so many years of work, realized! You should thank me for creating something so perfect!" He exclaimed. "You are the living proof that the program worked!"

"Program?" Tobias asked. "What program is it that you speak of?"

"Why, the goal to create the most powerful gate possible, of course! It's not fully there, but if this girl here can sit down and make more kids, we'll surely see some incredible progress in a few generations!" Peloston cackled.

"You... you have been breeding mages? Is that why Rathas ran away?"

"Yes! Hah! Yes yes yes! Many times over, yes! My brother, your father, Tobias, he told me that it was too much for her! And look at her now! Incredible!"

Tobias and Elina stood in shocked silence. Peloston simply chuckled to himself in his bed, ecstatic.

Rathas dismissed her gate. She stared in silence at the maniac, almost experiencing his delusion secondhand.

"Peloston..." Tobias stepped past Rathas. "Elina... was she a product of this too?"

"Elina, you, everybody! This has been going on for years! Every high-class mage family does it! You two useless brats just didn't have good gates!"

Tobias's lip curled. "You... to Mother... all for..."

"Yes, yes, she had a good gate. Shame she offed herself after the second birth, I wager she had a good few left in- '' Peloston said.

Tobias unsheathed his dagger and ran him through the throat. Blood spilled onto the white sheets. He withdrew the blade and rammed it into Peloston's chest repeatedly. It caved in after three blows, the ribs cracking and opening to reveal his body cavity. Tobias didn't stop, continuing to slice through intestine and entrail over and over and sending chunks of flesh and blood splashing over his freshly pressed uniform.

"Toby!" Elina held her hands up over her mouth and ran out the room. He finally stopped and dropped the knife onto the mauled corpse, his hands shaking. He breathed heavily from the exertion.

"I will request that this room be scrubbed down and the body disposed of." Tobias turned away. "Rathas, you are now the leader of House Graves. We will need to have a discussion with the remaining members of the family." He fell to the ground, resting on his knees. "If you wouldn't mind... I'd like a moment."

Her new clothes were already stained red. The murder didn't draw so much as a flinch from the mageborn, though.

"Take all the time you need."

She finally turned away from the bed, towards Tobias.

"...All the time you need. Properly."