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.”
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