ℙreparations

---

The only things in the sky were the shining sun and the faint wisps of clouds from the last time it had rained. But that was long ago, because the ground was dry and the lively streets filled with chatter and light. It was chilly, though not unpleasantly so. Yet another afternoon in Dalris, its golden beaches and verdant fields basking in the light, blowing in the breeze.

And still. Even still. Not a single resident of the Dalris Manor was outside. The hushed voices from the private office of Lord Dalris rose each second.

“Maybe it’s a mistake. The North doesn’t want conflict!”

“Yes they do, Alfonse. They declared war on us last week.”

“We’re an important strategic point. We’ll be safe.”

“No we won’t, Alfonse. They’ll set us ablaze and keep marching to Croania. We’re right next to Kothlin. Our heads might as well be up in Redline right now, it wouldn’t change the result.

“Then what do we do, Cass?”

The two shared a look. A desperate look. Cassandra let out a sob, collapsing further into her seat. The paperwork piled higher and higher on their desks, blocking what little light was trying to come through the window. A week left to live, and that was all they could do. Sign forms. Alfonse answered his own question, staring at the door with the eyes of a doomed man.

“Send a letter to Croan.”

“We- we did that. No response… yet.”

“Then, we wait.”

---

It was Elise’s birthday soon. She’d been preparing for months. She’d picked out her favourite restaurant, reserved the entire thing, for her first family dinner in years. It might have been a decade since the last time. She couldn’t even remember when it was.

But it didn’t matter! Because in just a few hours, the counter could reset and she could have a relaxing day out with her parents. Elise didn’t think either of them had had a relaxing day since the last time either. It would do them some good. She’d split her paperwork with Leras (who had been hesitant to help out, but Elise told her she could have the evening off) to get it done early, and she skipped down the corridor, right down to the end of the hall, where the main office stood.

...

“What do you mean no?” she’d screamed when the door was slammed in her face.

---

“We’ll arrive in five minutes, boss.”

“Yes, I can tell from the fact that Dalris Manor is right in front of us,” the dry tone of Cedric Immolis was hard to hear over the wind, but Lorise’s ears were finely tuned to it. Mainly so that she could ignore it, but it was a useful skill nonetheless.

“And then? Are we just waiting for Kothlin to come and kill us?”

“I’m glad you’re catching on quickly,” Cedric said, squinting at the figure walking out of the manor. “Lord Dalris will refuse to leave until the very end, so even if this’ll be Kothlin’s land in the end we can try to salvage their lives. No doubt they’ll have appealed to Croan for support, so if we can hold off until they come, even better.”

“Support? What, from Pachel?”

No reply. The two urged their wyverns into descent, the silence continued as the wind picked up. Then it stopped, their landing smooth as always and only a light breeze remaining. Elise Dalris stood at the door, eyes bloodshot and puffy, but smiling wide.

“You came,” she said, voice strained. “Please, come on in.”

Abbi all but locked herself in her lab. Eliona And Rendyl were struggling to keep control of things. The armor helped when she needed to get her way, but that only seemed to last as long as she was a threat. It was clear that her powers of kingdom building were lacking. She did not have the drive or desire to just kill some out of anger and that was a needed skill.

She started to pack up her belongings. What was it that these people needed, an enemy, a common enemy. She could make explosive and there were targets that would rally the nation to defend herself. Heck, they might be able to capture the gold shipment passed through the country. They would need gold if they were going to raise any fighting force. The problem was people did not hand that over without a fight. She knew the place to do it. Two bridges met at a mountain peak. she could blow the bridges with the party trapped there. It would keep it out of the enemies coffers and allow them a chance to recover it.

She also made some smaller charges that she would place different places to destroy just enough to make the masses demand something be done to protect them - Bridges were good targets, water works, big things first, maybe one of the minor nobles barns. No one would expect a single girl and a wyren. So she set to work mixing charges and making pipe bombs that would work.

She would get this kingdom to get over who they follow and focus on the why.

The part that worried her was she would need to leave the armor.

ELLIOT HOLDT - Fort Braemur

---

“Fiancee.”

As she’d been for six years, patient and faithful. They went to City Hall for the certificate but Elliot didn't want to go through with a ceremony under such rushed circumstances. She deserved better than the absent runaway he was. The check would still go to her in some fashion, as she resided with his parents.

Resisting the urge to scratch at his cheek, he saluted the clerk. Bid the… cyborg farewell with a half-hearted “it will be a pleasure serving beside you, ma’am”, hastily, before his breathing became noticeably shallow.

Gravity was an accelerating force after all, and it got more crushing with every step he took.

Captains resided in a building separate from the main barracks and were provided with their own rooms. His belongings were sparse - a photo here, a watch case there. Small but meaningful pieces. Easy to pack for a big move across the country.

He let himself fall onto the bed, reflective, waiting for the sense of duty to kick him in the national pride and uplift his spirits. This was a big responsibility, and they’d deemed him of all people suitable for the job. His comrades were going to be so excited. He’d defeat those craven Southerners, secure a prosperous future for Northern Croania, then retire and move to the coast with his family.

Or he’d die. Perish without ever seeing Irina in a white dress and veil.

He waited for the sense of duty to overtake him, but all that was inside him was simmering dread.

“Bah! N-No matter!”

Immediate issues first. The transfer had pushed up a lot of tasks on his to-do list. So many errands to run, and only a day to do them! The most important thing was composing a letter for home regarding this update. Before that though, he needed to get to the mess hall.
The lunch period was wrapping up, but he knew the soldiers’ routines well enough to know they’d still be there making the most of their free hour. His usual comrades at the usual table. His brothers. Elliot’s smile must have been transparent, going from the way they regarded him.

“Lost more blood today, Captain? What's up?” Richton said.

Elliot breathed.

“I, uh…” Ah, tomes. “I-I got reassigned to West Division. Dalris, the front. We ship out tomorrow.”

“Oh. Wow.”

Elliot didn’t look at their faces. He scratched his cheek.

“Shit. Fuckin’ Alphonse inhaled half the drink last week, didn’t he?”

“Barton’s got a stash. Reyson’s roommate too.”

“Get ‘em to haul ass here.” Richton clasped Elliot’s shoulders. “That’s incredible news. You’re gonna do us proud.”

“I… yeah.” Elliot forced a chuckle, almost crumpling from his friend’s grip. “It’s big stuff.”

“But don’t you worry, brother. This is going to be the greatest send-off party this Fort has ever seen.”

“You’re going to plan it in an afternoon?”

“What do you take us for? Only the best for Kothlin’s finest.”

Elliot had held it together until then. He wrapped his arms around Richton, tightening as much as he could, and heard himself begin to bawl.