Force and Fury

The Hourglass Order

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Q U E E N O F D I A M O N D S : A C T T W O

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T H R E E : L O A M ‘ E L A

T H R E E : L O A M ' E L A

She had snatched a rare moment away from her royal escort, and Hylaenii sat in a most unladylike fashion: strewn dramatically across a divan like so much debris. "Who'd have ever guessed that state visits could be so tiring?" she moaned. Leon, Dorothea, and dear Desmond had handed her off to her entourage and they were enjoying a few minutes before the event officially began and she would make her dramatic entrance down that big staircase.

"Perhaps literally everyone, your royal highness?" joked Lady Tyrel, and a handful of the others tittered at their queen's expense.

"Ooh you little trollop, you," Hylaenii shot back, finding enough energy to shake a fist but not quite enough to rise. "Why, I should make you hold up the ends of my gown as punishment." She slumped back down and sighed. "Or perhaps I shall make you wear it, but that may be a touch too grim."

Ladies Sanette, Irenii, and Seliin fluttered about, stuffing their faces before the ball, being fitted in their gowns behind screens, and having servants attend to their makeup. Lady Hilarii would not trust a mere servant with the Queen's face, however, and was sitting across from her, encouraging her to rise.

"Bite, majesty." Siimond was feeding her just as he had when she'd been but a babe. A muffin hovered mere inches from her mouth. She grabbed it and shoved it in, chewing. "Evening briefing, Siimond?" she asked as she was just about finished chewing.

"Up!" chirped the tethered across from her. "Up up up! Your makeup won't do itself." She motioned Hyalenii forward and the queen regarded her tiredly even as Siimond rushed about, trying to procure a copy of her evening briefing.

"Oh, and your stockings, majesty!" announced Lady Sanette, coming back from the powder room with her mouth full of macaroon and a pair of stockings in her hand.

"I swear my legs are in there somewhere," Hylaenii groaned, forcing herself to almost sit up. "Up!" Sanette insisted, more forcefully than Lady Hilarii. "Up up up!"

At that, there was a puff of magic and Hylaenii collected herself, just on time for Siimond to move in with her briefing, Hilarii with her makeup, and Sanette with her stockings. Lady Seliin clapped her hands. "All nonessential personnel out!" she called. "The queen is being dressed!"

It was ten minutes later when she emerged from her room onto the balcony. A fanfare began to play and most of the guests had already arrived. There was a great opulent ballroom waiting for her. Her royal escort of Chad'amis'yida'thala, Niallus Saberhagen, and Yvain de Berbignon awaited at the top of the steps.

"Innnntroducing his grace, Jomur Ikon III, Defender of the Glass Coast, Knight of the Order of the Unbroken Mirror, Heir of Kings, Duke of Melongle!"

Jomur Ikon III was the very picture of ducal majesty as he descended the stairs, the rabble having gone ahead of him as was fitting. His chin was tilted, high and imperious, his expression benevolent but making no mistake of his innate superiority. At his arm was some pretty woman or other - was it Marlijn Vaanse? Ah, yes, the crier had announced as much.

"On his arm, Lady Marljin Vaanse, Baroness of Halderholm!"

Jomur allowed a smile: just a bit of a one.

"His grace, Markgraf Johann Steinbauer von Ostermark-Karnholdt, Fellow of the Royal Kerreman Society of Natural Philosophers, Steward of Kallenbruck, Slayer of the Dinner Table!"

Johann's regal walk was interrupted by the last bit. Someone had paid the crier to announce him thusly, and he blushed fiercely, shrinking away for a second, before abruptly changing expressions. He let out a laugh and then pointed at one of his friends. "Ooh you schweinhund, you!" he chortled. "It better not have been you!" Johann, notably, did not have an escort.

Niallus stood at the top of the stairs waiting; he got a good view of the ballroom. The school had really spared no expense: a buffet that was large enough to give Johann indigestion. People of all races, joined together, embracing in common conversations with one another. The music was soothing and distinguished. Niallus was amazed by the amount of people who were attending ball. Then again, it was for the Queen of Mycormii.

Dressed in a white shirt matched with black waistcoat with silver buttons and trim. An overcoat that matched his silver trim, it was possibly the only thing that he had fancy in his whole attire, it wasn't Eskandr design but he liked it. He brushed on one of his shoulders. Hopefully this is fitting, he thought, while adjusting one of his cufflinks.

Upon hearing the fanfare announcing the queen, Niallus snapped to attention. He had a job to do: look after the Queen during this time of the ball. He brushed his hand through his brown hair keeping it neat and tidy. Upon gazing at the Queen she had an aura about her that screamed elegance. He didn't even have to look around to know that all eyes were on her. "Your Majesty." He said bowing in respect to her, when he looked back up to the Queen. A familiar face he saw that caught his attention. It was Marljin, with Jomurr. That son of a- He thought as his attention drifted.

Queen Hylaenii took his hand, covering her mouth with a fan held in her other. "Oh, but Baron Saberhagen," she giggled from behind it, "You look positively like you've seen a ghost!" She leaned in conspiratorially and he caught a hint of a cheeky grin from behind the fan. "Care to let me in on the secret?"

Yvain was adorned in a striking and regal ensemble, with a hint of militaristic aesthetic to it. The vest was lavishly embellished with gold details, including gold tassels and braid. Draped over his shoulders was a coat that was purposed as a cape, lined with white fur along the collar that seemed newly commissioned.

He did not feel too attached to such opulent apparel yet for someone of his standing, it is a given that he must. ”I truly wish to apologize for asking you to arrive on such short notice.” A woman poked the duke’s son before snickering. ”There is no need, Olivier told me the situation.”

The lady’s chestnut brown hair was styled in an elegant chignon, adorned with delicate jeweled hairpins that sparkled subtly in the light. She wore a luxurious gown made of fine silk in a deep emerald hue, intricately embroidered with gold thread and lace trims to match with him. ”I might not be a one-legged yasoi, but I think I look well enough.” She offered her hand with a smug expression. ”You won’t make me wait after making myself all pretty just for this, right?”

”You’re a real prick sometimes, Élisée”

”I know.”

”His grace, Yvain de Berbignon, Grandmaster of L'Ordre des Roses de l'Aube, Heir to the Berbignon holdings.” He read through the list. ”Hold on, there isn’t anything written-” ”Maître des Ombres will do for now.”
”The Lady Élisée Roux, Maître des Ombres”

The two stood atop the stairs before they noticed that the Exarch had finished preparing. The two bowed, Élisée lowering her head further. Yvain however only slightly bowed. ”I was worried the entourage might have been. . . overwhelmingly masculine, I hope you won’t mind it for the next couple hours.”

"Innnntroducing the one and only, Leon Solaire, the Sun King, Champion against Dark Magic, Chosen of the Sun, Slayer of the White Thresher, the... magnificent."

Leon furrowed his brow, the crier had cut off at least half of what he had written for him. But it was back to smiles little could dour his mood at a function such as this. He entered with truly eye-catching attire and at his arm...

"On his arm, the lovely Lady Kaureerah Wenhan. Beauty of the Moons and renowned songstress soon to grace the world over."

This was a shock. This was the first time Leon had invited to Kaureerah to events such as this. There had been plenty of opportunities to do so earlier, but he always attended alone. In general, he tended to do politics as a solo act. It was no surprise that he caught the attention of others more if they believed him an eligible bachelor and bringing a date of humble means, especially a former prostitute, was practically faux pas.

So that left the question: why did he bring her along to a political event when he hadn't earlier? To which he had been frustratingly deflective when answering. 'It's my turn for date night, I think you'll love it', none of which truly gave an answer. Once more, he only gave a quick run down of the etiquette so she was informed, but seemed not to stress her need to follow it all.

Had he blindly trusted that she would be the peak of lady-like grace and parley with royalty in style? Or was it something else? Only he seemed to know.

As they entered, he simply gave her a smile and wink. "Shall we?"

"Innnntroducing his greatness, the Ghost of the Black Fields! The Defender of the Golden Ghost! The Liberator of An Zenui! Slayer of the Grand Demon of Cruelty! Conqueror of the Grand Demon of Envy! Annihilator of the Grand Demon of Greed! The Grand Champion of the Arena and the Champion of the Unyielding of Sun! The Hand of the People, and the Finger of Belleville! Desmond Catulus!"

Desmond had donned his apparel that he'd worn with the queen as her entourage. As he made his way down by himself, he looked around. He had paid the Crier a good bit for the last part. Yet he knew it would be hilarious to see the reactions of the people. As well as him paying more so to add goofy titles to multiple other people's titles as they came down. A few hundred magus well worth it.

He noticed Marlijn with Jomurr, but his smile never faded as he began to make his way to take in the venue before mingling.

In all his time in Ersand'Enise, Tommy hadn't been at such an opulent event. He'd seen the decadence of nobles however, and very much wished to take part. Not especially for the splendour, but the inner jester within him craved entertainment, and so he coaxed a certain Edyta Laska, his beloved, to join him for drink, dance and much overdone food. He'd been accepted as a member of the entourage later, after all...

He'd borrowed a few magus from Desmond for this occasion for his wallet was often empty, and put it to good use placing it in the pocket of a certain crier at the event, and walked down the stairs with a Red Rezaindian on his arm as he was announced, waving with a toothy grin to many of his acquaintances that had happened to join the ball.

Innnntroducing the Late but Early, Sir Tommy Kavanaugh, Defender of Moat's End, Chief Financier of the Swirl, Gentleman of the Full Enthish Appreciation Society." The Crier declared, struggling to read the shoddy handwriting the lad had given him. He switched to another piece of paper and breathed a sigh of relief. On his arm is the lovely lady Edyta Laska, Red Rezaindian, Slayer of Demons and of... Enthish Hearts?" Tommy smirked at his own introduction, and gave a knowing wink to Laska as the ridiculous introductions were one after the other. He'd certainly not added that last one, but he couldn't say he minded. It certainly made the place a more lively event. He adjusted his cravat, a fancy piece of silk far above his usual station, and tipped his Chapeau to the ladies and gentleman that he walked past as he moved to stand next to Johann with Laska at his side. At some point in time, members of the event could have sworn they saw a golden, mechanical frog leap from his pocket, but that'd be ridiculous, right?

"It's good to see ya, bud. Betcha didn't think you'd see a schweinhund like me at one o' these, eh?" He laughed with Johann, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a playful jab to the arm. Their friendship had always operated on this sort of thing, much to the portly Kerreman's chagrin.

Niallus, meanwhile, was still beside the queen, scratching the tip of his nose in a little embarrassment. Catching a small grin behind her fan, a smile came across his face. "My apologises my lady." He simply said to her. "I just saw someone that I didn't expect, That's all." He was hoping that would be enough to sway her, but given what his friends had mentioned about her, it might not be.

Yuliya stood nervously in the hallway behind the stairs, looking as many of the other ladies and gentlemen of the event seemed to walk with a partner in step. She'd seen maybe a few enter alone, but she was deadset on not being one of them. In fact, she was ready to turn heel and go back to her dorm at this rate. She scanned the remaining people that hadn't entered yet, and sighed, evaluating any opportunity to not have to enter another party on her lonesome. The only thing that warmed her lonely heart was the series of over the top and ridiculous introductions that had been delivered to nobles and commoners alike.

Stealthily, she dropped her hankerchief on the floor. An accident, to be sure.

”Innnnntroducing her Excellency, The Duchess of Feska, Head of the Danzau branch of the Albesatz family.” Dorothea walked forward, yet the crier continued. ”The Burgravine of the Beerhalls, Surveyor of the Swirl’s goods, The Prosperous bosom of Drudgunze ' Dory’s glare would nearly be enough to kill the man, but instead of violence there was but silence and the blush of embarrassment.

Her apparel was the same as the start of the day, for it was prepared for such an event. Yet for all the men she had shared her time with as of late, she entered alone. For her heart had not been recaptured since the death of her partner. In truth she hoped one of her friends would have volunteered, but alas they all have their love lives nowadays. ”I hope at least the food will be good enough. . .” She mumbled to herself.

"Ludicrous, right?" came a voice from nearby, catching the look on Yuliya's face. It was Xiuyang, wearing her Rettanese Qipao and a generous layer of makeup over her scars, which were still just slightly visible. "It's as if a certain someone is trying to turn this whole ball into a joke. I'm almost afraid to walk in. Maybe I'll pay him to say nothing." She pretended not to notice the dropped handkerchief, as was the proper favor from one lady to another.

Yvain's companion, meanwhile, was very welcome. "Not at all, your grace," replied Hylaenii, inclining her head slightly after he had bowed. "My ladies could always use another companion, lest they cling to me a touch too dearly."

Lady Seliin's eyes widened. Lady Tyrel covered her mouth and snickered. Then, the third member of the royal entourage took his opportunity. "I shall keep them well occupied, your majesty," said a tall and exceptionally handsome yasoi man. "Chad'amis'yida'thala, ever at your service." He bowed deeply and came up from it with smirk. "Well, you know, at least for today." he winked, taking hold of both Lady Irenii's and Lady Tyrel's arms.

The queen waved off Niallus with a pouty face. "Oh, you're no fun," she teased. "Nevermind. I'll pry it from you later. For now, hup hup!" She flashed him a fetching smile. "Take my arm, good sir, and escort me down the stairs if you would be so kind?" She held her arm out to link it with his. They were both of a height, at least. "Don't let the queen fall, hmm?"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYv0QEbUyIY

With that, the fanfare played and, arm in arm with Niallus, Queen Hylaenii'doren'ismax of Mycormii, First of her name, Guardian of the Eastern Yasoi Peoples, High Priestess of the Abalone Order, Lady of the Ermine Fleece, Head of the Society of Thunder, was announced. Her walk was calm and stately, her poise impeccable. Her eyes seemed to take in everyone and everything with the personal sort of attention that only a master performer could manage. However, beneath the facade, Niallus could feel just how hard she gripped him arm. She felt... unsteady, somehow. Her eyes flicked his way in gratitude and with a hidden sort of message: this is our secret, okay?

Yuliya's expression changed as she saw Xiuyang and it changed changed for the better. She took a moment to examine the dress and the makeup, and gave a genuine nod of approval. Her mind went to business for but a moment, for the dress had caught her eye, but she quickly locked back in to the topic at hand. "You are looking lovely, Xiuyang. I am liking the new you!" she smiled earnestly at the girl, before listening to another series of ridiculous announcements. Some were surely off limits, right? "Same here... maybe there is secret entrance?" she remarked, her lips shifting to a cheekier smile, though not as mischievous as the scoundrels who must have paid this crier in the hundreds.

Kaureerah all-but skipped up, falling into a proper sort of restraint just before eyes were on her in earnest. She was ever the consummate performer, and it showed. Her dress, if somewhat risqué, dazzled, and she was not without her trusty guitar, carried in behind her by a well-dressed boy who'd been paid to do so. "Soo, Meester Megneefecent," she teased. "Hauw doo theese theengs woork, foor Eye em baut a seemple leettle feesh goorl fraum e beckwauter, Eye feer, end soo autterly aut auf my depth."

A good handful of eyebrows rose at Desmond's particular introduction, for it was the boldest one yet. While some of the snootier nobles turned their noses up at it, there were a good few whoops and cheers, for Desmond was well-known and well-liked. Edyta, on Tommy's arm, grimaced, but there was a playful quality to it. Kaureerah cracked up and punched Leon on the shoulder. Johann made a most amused face and raised the beer stein he'd already equipped himself with in toast. Marlijn laughed but Jomurr, however, looked unamused, to say the least. "He's making a mockery of the whole thing," he muttered to his date, who quickly restrained her mirth.

Niallus chuckled a little at the queen's pouty face, but hearing that she'd pry it out of him later had him wondering when she would try. But his attention was snapped as she she held her arm out to link with him. "Of course, my lady, if you wish to pry, perhaps it would be best to at least make our way down the stairs first." he said with a smile. He held his arm out to link his arm to her as they walked down the stairs. Her grip was tight around his arm, but there was more pressure than what was needed for a simple walk down the stairs. Catching on the message that she was relaying to him with her body language, it seemed that she wanted to keep this hidden. "It is my duty to protect you this evening; you have nothing to fear."

Edyta swallowed and almost rolled her eyes out of an excess of anxiety and the sheer absurdity of it, but she managed to crack a smile. "By Oraff," she whispered, leaning in, "You could feed a village for a month with this stuff." She nibbled her lower lip and pointed to one woman with a very tall powdered wig. "And say, look at her: is she growing another person out of her head?" She was still dressed in her clerical robes: no extra skin on display compared to the other women, her expression almost pointedly sardonic. She cast about for the musicians, hoping for the music to start up, at least a bit excited for that. She and Tommy found only Johann, however, and her date could not help but deliver a jibe at the big kerreman's expense.

"You and Desmond playing a little joke on each other?" Johann observed, "hmm?" He shook his head. "I'm only jealous because I didn't think of it," he admitted.

"Thanks," Xiuyang replied, twirling a lock of hair a bit shyly. She'd grown her hair out to shoulder length, too. "A secret entrance? At an event like this? That's ambitious." She returned a smirk. As the handkerchief remained on the ground, Xiuyang stole glances at it, seeming to consider. Suddenly, she leaned down to pick it up, and handed it back to Yuliya with a cheeky smile. "I'd rather link arms with you than the lamplighters, if you don't mind."

Desmond laughed as he made his way over to Johann with his arms open, "I'm only sad you got here before me! I would have slapped another two titles on there for ya!"

Desmond gave a light hug to Edyta, a bigger one to Tommy, and one with a slap on the back to Johann.

Yvain eyed Lady Seliin yet his eyes did not move too much, an illusion. Élisée looked up to meet his eyes and raised her eyebrows a couple times. The boy's eyes then widened in response to the woman's signal. "That wasn't- I didn't-. . " He leaned down to finish his sentence in a whisper. "Fuck you."

The woman covered her mouth with her hand in a false sense of surprise. "My my, was I right? Seems like you're still as predictable as you were when you were but a wee lad." Yvain straightened his posture before clearing his throat. "Perhaps I should've brought Yvette. . ."

"Now, don't be so sour, I'm just messing with you." All she got in return was a disregarding sigh.

No sooner were they at the bottom than Hylaenii was pulling Niallus off in a direction before anyone had a chance to claim her attention. "Do keep up, loyal protector," she teased. She leaned in. "There are some people present who I very much would like to speak to," she admitted, "and others I would very much like to avoid." She patted him on the arm. "You can help me with that, hmm?" She grinned, eyes darting about surreptitiously.

Chad very much had Ladies Tyrel and Irenii wrapped around him, and he danced and twirled on the floor as the music picked up tempo. Lady Sanette, meanwhile, was still attempting to follow her queen about while wearing a big wig. "Sanette, darling, you look just like a yanii. Aren't you already tall enough?" Hylaenii teased, popping up from behind a buffet table, Niallus holding her plate.

Presently, Lady Seliin glanced Yvain's way. She flashed the tiniest hint of a coy smile and adjusted the collar of her dress. She was rather petite by yasoi standards, with long golden hair left to fall in a waterfall braid. "Ah!" she was heard to exclaim to one of the other ladies. "This heat is just stifling. I think I shall take a moment outside at the fountain."

That left only Lady Hilarii. The tethered sat in a corner, having just finished exchanging words with Siimond, and seemed intently focused on the queen. One could feel the energy swirling about her that indicated magic use.

Tommy leant in to listen to Laska's comments, and couldn't help but agree. This was all exceedingly excessive, and some of the delicacies on display were not particularly appealing for his palette. "Couldn't tell me 'ow they manage to keep those things on their heads. They glue it on or somethin'? Must be a nightmare to get off after." he smirked knowingly at her, glad that he wasn't a fish completely out of water. Some thoughts were exchanged with a golden friend he'd saved from a demonic horde, and an illustrious, gentlemanly frog in a suit began to stealthily climb atop the wig of a certain Lady Sanette, who was struggling to walk with the heavy implement on her head. He pointed it out to Laska and shot her a very cheeky, toothy grin before turning to address Desmond and Johann, giving the former a tight hug.

"Betcha woulda came up with some good ones, eh? Might not be too late for that, but I reckon there's a more pressin' matter." he grinned, separating from Laska for but a moment as he pulled Johann and Desmond in to a huddle. "Any of these fine ladies catchin' your eye Big J? Brother? Tellin' ya, tree candy's a good pull. Highly recommend ya try it. Can give you a hand, just shoot the word mate." He winked at his two friends, gesturing over to some of the ladies in waiting that hadn't quite found an arm to attach themselves to. He swiftly resumed his place at Laska's side, taking her arm in hers and strolling from booth to booth, waiting to dance and enjoying the chance to sample some of the most ridiculous foodstuffs that adorned the table.

Niallus answered the queen's playful smile with a nod. "Of course my lady." He leaned into her as he looked at her gaze. "Now, where would you like go first?" He said in a kind, friendly manner. "For the people whom you wish to avoid just mention them to me, and we will steer clear." With her latched to his arm, he walked with her, matching her pace.

Roslyn hated this dress. Unlike her more casual day dresses, the skirt felt too wide and weighed down on her hips. She felt like she waddled more than walked. Despite that, it was at least a pretty shade of green. One that reminded her of the rolling hills back home. Her hand lifted up to her hair, gently adjusting a dark hairpin with a bird on the end.

She smirked at the various titles and was grateful hers remained rather simple. Unlike many of the others, she came alone. Not exactly proper, but she had come to accept it. Her eyes looked through the room to try and find some familiar faces.

Johann's face flushed red. "I... Tree candy?" Then it dawned on him. "Ha haa! What a term!" he laughed. "But I am a man focused on my scholarly pursuits."

Edyta let out a raspberry and punched him on the shoulder. "Scholarly pursuits?" she questioned. "I see you at the beerhall every night!"

Johann turned to her, not having missed a beat. "And what are you doing at a beerhall, nun?"

"Praying for the sinners there," Edyta answered angelically.

Yuliya feigned surprise as Xiuyang picked up the hankerchief and offered it back to her, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. She'd thought a man would have picked it up and done the duty of escorting her down the steps, but she wasn't displeased with the outcome of the days events. "How could I say no to such lovely lady?" she offered her arm to Xiuyang, but there was a small height difference exacerbated by heels in the name of fashion. Truth be told, she didn't mind if she looked a little silly so long as she was with someone she could call her friend, whether that was for a day or longer than that.

"Say, aren't you seeing Ciro? Is he nice to you? Treatings you well? He get very cross at business meeting sometime, you know. Turns red like beet. Don't tell him I tell you this." she whispered to Xiuyang as they walked together, a playful smirk about her face.

"Lady Wenhan, next you're going to tell me you weren't listening when I talked about spoon arrangement." Leon joked in a mockingly proper tone, but he spoke quietly to keep it private between them. Then he spoke up with some more earnestness. "Luckily, you have a guide fit for queen at your side tonight. Truthfully, with enough talent and charm, it doesn't matter what you do and you are part of those people."

Leon took surpise when Kaureerah punched him in the arm in reaction to Desmond's introduction. But he was quick to laugh along. "Oh settle down, Jomurr. You have plenty of time for more exclusive balls in the future. You hardly get the chance for something like this, no?"

Then soon after he stepped back, no longer leading Kaureerah but inviting her to lead him. "I find these things rather... samey after a while. I've done them too much in the last few months if I'm being honest. What do you want to do?"

"Hoo hoo, would you look at that." Yvain glared at the woman as she stuck her hands up. "It seems that I must do my duty, young lord. . . I uuuh. . . have to taste the wine-" She paused, avoiding eye contact with the boy. "To make sure you won't be poisoned, yes! Yes!" And with that she scooted off.

Yvain stood there, flabbergasted by the woman's attempts. He then regarded Seliin. "Mind some company?" It was the Eskandish man's turn to watch the Exarch and thus it shall fall upon him if something were to happen after all.
Alas, before long, the queen was cornered and caught. It was the duke of Arsica - a notably long-winded fellow with wandering eyes that tickled up and down her svelte figure and a tongue that wagged on endlessly in either self-aggrandizing tale or the most trivial of matters. Hylaenii nodded along politely enough through her suffering, covering some of her reactions by drinking copiously or feigning some small issue and twisting away momentarily.

In the background, others danced and twirled. Music played. One could variously see Baron Rikard, Countess Taleja, Duchess Ayla, Lady Zarina, and Jarl Sven and his paramour Esmii in the midst of a rather... intimate dance. It seemed as if most all of the school had turned out. About half of the Arch-Zenos were present as well, including Marbrand, Fabio, Tarthas, Masson, Afraval, and Giacomo the Crow: the only one who'd been alive for the last state visit by Mycormii. The Zenith was not currently present, officially for the reason of not making matters seem overly formal or weighty, but all knew how greatly he was Upta's opposite: Joshe Intaba was both a scholar and a warrior and he abhorred high society events such as this, avoiding them wherever possible.

For a moment, after throwing back a full glass of champagne, Hylaenii leaned over and shot Niallus a look that seemed to say nothing so much as "save me!"

Kaureerah pursed her lips. She perused the dinner table. "Thet ees e very good questeeoon." She leaned in and pointed. "Yoo knauw, Eye theenk Eye waunt too fynd te moost redeecyooloos 'food' heere end eet et, because Eye em te weeird feesh goorl." She grinned wickedly at him and started to look. "Auf coorse, thet's jaust te staurt!"

Lady Seliin smiled sweetly, linking arms with Yvain, for they were of a height. "I would be remiss if I didn't admit that was what I had hoped for." She sipped from a fluted glass. "You Perrench have always had the best stuff, you know."

Momentarily her eyes flicked over to Lady Hilarii, who remained unaddressed in the corner as Siimond piled his plate high with food and talked shop with one of the school notaries. The two women exchanged the briefest nod, and then Yvain had the entirety of Seliin's attention again. "I do think I would very much like some air if you'd be willing to join me outside?" she asked in a small, uncertain voice.

Niallus found this man to be a real pest. When he pulled in close to both of them, Niallus was so startled that he barely resisted the urge to punch him out of reflex. But listening to this oaf prattle on and on was trying even his patience. After Hylaenii finished downing her glass, he had an idea to at least get rid of this depraved man. He took Hylaenii's glass from her holding it out to the Duke.

"It appears that her glass is empty and she requires another refill, please do this favour for the queen and refill it." His tone was so professional and formal, it even completely had himself fooled. For now he waited for the Duke of Arsica to take up the task while Niallus and Hylaenii might fade into the crowd.

"Oh, stop," Xiuyang exhaled as she took Yuli's arm. "I know I'm better off without the mask, but I'm not that pretty." In spite of her words, though, there was a hint of a blush there, of the sort oft worn by those unaccustomed to receiving compliments as anything more than a greeting.

She felt small standing next to Yuliya, in more than a couple ways, but she knew that she would get a few looks as well, linking arms with the resident rumor mill. "He's running a bit late," she replied, checking the entrance once again to see if he might be there. "...Oh, I know. He tries to hide it, but I know." She smiled slyly. "He is very sweet. If his words are even a little bit abrasive, it's because he cares."

Yvain tugged softly on the linked arm to settle on the posture. "Join you? Why, it would be my pleasure." He then looked into the distance. I really hope he doesn't start shit. . . But again, it is Eskandish nature to do so. He sighed before looking back to the woman he accomponied.

"Shall we then?"

Meanwhile, Duke Domenico's eyes widened at the thinly-veiled insult. "I... we have servants for -" He stumbled, face turning red. He was not a young man and was rather overweight. Normally, he'd never have challenged someone such as Niallus to a duel, but he'd boasted at such length of his exploits that to not do so here would cause him an indelible loss of face.

Hylaenii merely glanced between the two men expectantly. "It appears offense has been both given and taken," she declared.

"Indeed!" roared the duke. "I demand satisfaction!"

Lady Hilarii's eyes widened and she reached down in alarm to unlock her wheelchair's brakes. Though she was far too short to be noticed amid the crowd and struggled to push her way through, Lady Sanette faced no such difficulty. Still unaware of the little golden frog perched contentedly in her hair, she also began to hurry over, her progress easily marked by the summit of her great wig. For a moment, the queen seemed to waver, and she clutched at Niallus' arm before diplomatically separating herself.

"Please, my lord. He is but young," Sanette entreated, arriving breathlessly. "Young and Eskandish."

Hilarii arrived moments later and picked up from her friend. "His blood yet runs hot. Surely, he merely forgot himself for a moment. Will he not apologize for this slight?"

"No blood need be shed over such a small matter," remarked Lady Sanette, the frog peering out of her hair approvingly.

Eyes turned to Niallus, including those of the queen, perfectly pokerfaced, awaiting his response.

Yuliya frowned at the mention of Ciro being late. The man was normally very timely, and it irked her that he'd kept this sweet girl waiting for him. Alas, the duty fell to her to entertain and enjoy the company of such a delightful person. "I beg to differing." she haughtily spoke, strutting in pace with Xiuyang. "Oh, I know, dear. But is good to hear he treat you as he should." a small laugh left her lips, as Yuliya turned and met the Revidian's gaze. "Sometimes, I wind him up just to see it. Our little secret, yes?" and the smile atop her face grew cheekier as they finished descending the steps.

Her eyes wandered through the crowd of eloquently dressed people, and she saw a provocation about to start around the Queen, Niallus and some other fellow whos name she'd never remember. She turned back to Xiuyang with a curious look and a cocked eyebrow. "Front row ticket? Or would you rather dance?" Yuliya took the girls other hand in her own and shot a glance first at the incident, then at the dance floor, then finally toward her eyes.

Leon raised an eyebrow when Kaureerah was looking over the food. She didn't speak like that often. They had been to crazier places, but perhaps this was the first time he'd seen her truly out of her comfort zone. For a moment, he had doubts whether his idea was truly a wise decision. He wouldn't mention it for now though; it could only serve to make things worse.

When she turned back, he was all smiles, trying to be as accommodating as possible. Her wicked smile had him pleasantly settled about the matter and worried about what she had planned. "I would be disappointed if you wanted to end it there. The night is so young!"

Leon was happy to show her around the table and talking in comical depth about each food, half of which he knew she was already aware of. Although, he was sure to try and keep her from certain 'acquired taste' foods that tasted like shit and only had the value of exclusivity. He didn't want her stomach turning before it came time to dance.

Niallus placed his free hand up to the Duke. "Kind sir, I meant no offence of course." a gentle smile brushed across his face as he politly continued. "I only asked you this, as a distinguished gentleman like yourself, you must have a long list of fine taste in champagne and other exquisite beverages."

Lady Seliin and Yvain made it out just before matters changed drastically indoors. The air was fresh and cool, and the academy gardens stretched out before them, dimly lit by lanterns of arcane power. A fountain lapped and splashed peacefully and moths and crane flies swirled about. "You're of the senior branch of Berbignon, n'est ce pas?" she questioned, switching on the fly to Perrench.

"Why, yes I am." Yvain proclaimed proudly, yet quietly. At this affirmative, she nodded.

"This is to remain confidential between us, but the queen received an offer from your government for a parlay earlier in the day. While we in Mycormii currently favour a policy of neutrality, I was to relay the queen's response to you: we would be delighted to parlay with you. You are asked to speak with her at your nearest convenience, my lord, to arrange a time for said rendezvous."

Perhaps he might've said more, and perhaps not, but then there were whoops and shouts from inside and a large party making its way towards the plaza and gardens outside of the hall where the pair had previously stood unmolested.

"Leeaun, deer," Kaureerah cooed. "Aur yoo tryeng too prautect mee?"

Nearby, they could see a situation developing around the queen and Kaureerah craned her neck. She shrugged, turning back to Leon. "Egoos," she remarked, twirling on a heel. "Yoo're soo coote when yoo try." She jerked a thumb in the direction of the soon-to-be duel. "Were yoo eenterested een wautcheng?" she inquired, quite neutral on the matter herself. Sometimes she would lead and he would follow; sometimes, the opposite would hold true.

The duke's face, if anything, became even uglier, screwing up in disgust. "Do you mock me, boy!?" he demanded.

Yvain smiled warmly before he signed his hand to his lips and locked it with the invisible key.

"But I must say it quite a surprise to h-" He paused as the shouts and general loudness ruined the serene mood that they just had. The Perrenchman did not say anything, yet his face grimaced. Had his worries become reality?

This Dumpling of a Duke was really starting to get on Niallus' nerves. "Well there is plenty to mock." He said flatly.

"You too, huh?" was the only reply given to Yuli's little secret. That, and a impish little glint in her eye—or was that a response to the commotion below? Seeing the opportunity, she tugged on Yuli's arm. "Hurry!" she prodded with a hushed whisper. "Before the crier notices us." With that, they slipped past him while he was distracted.

The mercantile shine in her eyes stayed strong as she considered what was about to happen. At a time like this, a savvy merchant such as her ought to be at the front of it all, exhorting the guests of the ball to place bets—and she, having fought alongside Niallus multiple times, knew the outcome ahead of time. It was easy money.

And then there was Yuliya, a much more cultured lady who would almost surely rather dance, but seemed eager for Xiuyang to have fun, for reasons she couldn't quite determine. It was in her nature to follow the money, but she was trying to learn to be a bit more like Yuliya, and she couldn't help but be curious why she seemed to take a sudden interest in her. This, too, was an opportunity of another kind. "Looks like the floor will have plenty of space soon," she offered with a smile.

Dory, in the meanwhile, had been drinking the entire time, a glass of beer in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. Moving through some of the students, predominantly the ones of the merchant class. ”Hey, you want to own some land? Iiiiii- can make you a BIG noble!" She chugged the glass of champagne before putting it in the random student's hand.

It was then that she noticed the coming duel, walking through the crowd until she found the people getting ready to fight. ”hoo-hoo, seems like the Queen is popular!" Her eyes widened to see one of the Eskandish students getting into a fight, snickering all the while. ”It is the loong boy against the RundeHuhn."

Johann, the mountain of a man loomed over the girl couldn't help himself and snickered to the Feskan's ramble. The joke fell unto a lot of deaf ears, yet some laughed along.

The duke struggled for a moment to peel off one of his white gloves. Face puckered, he took this in his hand and slapped Niallus across the cheek with it, after which, he dropped it at the youth's feet.

"The gauntlet has been thrown!" the crier announced, seeming to come up almost out of nowhere. He'd been paid enough to do extra duty like this, perhaps.

The queen's eyes widened, and they darted between the two men. Niallus bent down slowly to pick it up. "No need to strain yourself bending over, your grace," the Eskandishman replied. "I'll get that for you." He bent double, lifted it from the floor with a visible effort to hide his distaste, and handed it to his second who was... the queen, in this case. Perhaps he simply didn't understand the etiquette of the matter. Even she looked alarmed, quickly handing it to Roslyn.

"Make way!" cried the crier, as he led a burgeoning crowd through the opulent double doors and out into the night. "Duke Domenico IV of Arsica demands satisfaction of Baron Niallus Saberhagen of Halderburg for insults rendered while in the company of the queen. Gentlemen!" He turned to take them both in as they joined him in the dimly lit plaza. The warm dancing light of the indoors spilled eagerly out into the darkness. "Shall this be a fight to first blood or to the death?"

The Duel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykfWGc5MRFo

Leon looked back to her with a bit of shock and a blush. Oh right, she's talking about the food. He eased up. "I would be at fault not to try." He replied sweetly. "Some of this stuff it a real offense to the taste buds." He joked.

Leon was about to decline the invitation to watch, but then saw Niallus was at the centre of it. He had yet to see the Eskandish man in a proper duel since their sparring. "The best thing about this food is you can take it with you." He invited her to pick some of her favourite snacks before leading her to the duel and next to some of their other friends. He certainly hoped it was only to first blood.

Yuliya pursed her lips in disapproval. She was no stranger to body language, and could see the way Xiuyang was itching to get into the thick of it and enjoy the rare spectacle of a ballroom throwdown. Now, she might have had a distate for earnest bloodshed, but this was something that she wouldn't at all mind watching, and so, she tugged on Xiuyangs hands gently, as she often had to be aware of. "Xiuuuyaaang... I see the way you looking at it." she reached down and playfully pinched her cheek. "We make our own space on dance floor, and I don't mind seeing a tolstyak get kick around." the Vossoriyan pulled her hand away and strode toward the forefront of the duel, cutting through the crowd to get them both the front row ticket's she'd promised.

Kaureerah smiled and picked the vilest thing that she could - Balut - and downed it in one mighty gulp. Her face turned bluish - even moreso than normal - and she grimaced, but she got it down. "Mynd oover metter, shyny waun!" She winked and, collecting a couple more... edible things, quickly followed him outside. "Gauds, Eye hoope they doon't keel eech auther."

Spotting the commotion, Roslyn inwardly groaned and moved closer. She pinched her nose when she heard the challenge. It turned out her senses about trouble were accurate. Taking the glove from the Queen, the girl followed the rest. "I swear, it seems Niallus likes to poke the bear. Especially whenever a pretty lady is involved," she muttered.

Niallus took his overcoat off, handing it to one of the Queen's handlers. Then, he undid the buttons on his waistcoat. "First blood should be fine. Death seems that it would kill the mood." He focused on the Duke, even though he was more... horizontal, he could sense a decent amount of RAS. Niallus wasn't going to let his guard down. "When you are ready?" He simply said.
"Niallus is a good person." Leon assured Kaureerah. "Even if it were to the death, I doubt he would."

The queen floated out on her large ballgown, her entourage surrounding her with pursed lips and furrowed brows. She knitted her fingers together and clenched them. A few others filed in close to her: Taleja, Roslyn, Yuliya, and Xiuyang. Then, it was just Niallus and this obnoxious man. Perhaps the hot-blooded Eskandishman had provoked the fight on purpose. Perhaps he had not. He was, to many of those gathered, an enigma.

The duke regarded him with both anger and - beneath a show of bravado - fear. Perhaps this was a bridge too far, but he could not have merely accepted the insult. He opened his mouth to speak when Niallus pre-empted him. "Scared to match magic with your social better, then, boy." He nodded. "Very well." He began to take off his jacket, handing it to one of his sons, who was roughly of an age with his opponent.

The queen, meanwhile, twisted to regard Roslyn with an enigmatic look of her own. "Mm, yes, he certainly does." She cracked a coy smile and fixed her hair, turning back to the fight, chin raised, to watch.

Xiuyang was still recovering from the shock of the cheek pinch when she found herself pulled easily through the crowd—a perk of being escorted by a taller woman who was easily stronger than she appeared, she supposed. A smirk played on her lips. Well, if that was how it was going to go, then...

"AAAALLLLLLRIGHT!! Who's taking bets?!" she shouted, with a voice that carried so far it would make the crier proud.

Desmond made his way over to Dory, "Hey hey, long time no see! Seems to me you've found yourself a nice spot to watch this fight".

Desmond chuckled as he lightly held her, "Don't worry, don't worry, they'll look like dambasses either way".

Yvain just stared at the duel that was about to take place and groaned. "Dami has made these two very bad judges for each other." Although he couldn't help but snort upon hearing the duke talk about being the 'social better'. It almost made him want to comment on it, but it is the Eskandish's time to speak with his actions instead for Echeran deemed it so.

A circle formed around the duellists and Zenos Paireni and Sectoxomactex took up their places at either end to officiate.

"This duel will be fought to first blood!" the crier announced. "Outside interference is strictly forbidden and will result in immediate intervention and forfeiture. The combatants are Duke Domenico of Arsica and Baron Niallus of Halderburg. They will draw once the cloth hits the ground." He raised his hand, a golden cloth fluttering in the light breeze, and all eyes seized upon it.

It dropped.

Roslyn felt her own lips curl into a smirk. Niallus was a defensive power and she had witnessed it in the trials. As long as he was smart, she knew he would come out on top. Her arms crossed over her chest and watched the match.

The duke drew immediately and quickly and then there were three of him, already spreading out to surround the youth. "Which one is the real me, boy?" all three taunted. "You're in over your head!"

Niallus drew in manas but kept them on standby. As he saw his opponent create illusions of himself "Whats wrong, don't want to fight properly and resort to hiding." He figured he'd have to draw him out, let him slip up and then strike at first chance. Using his ability in pyromancy he cast a simple Arcane spell to increase the temperature of the area around him.

Duke Domenico had expected some sort of slashing attack that split his opponent's power between three targets, and he was prepared for it, too! This, however, was another matter entirely. A generalized heat spell? Who opened with that!? He maintained his concentration, keeping the illusions up, but he began sweating immediately and profusely and he blinked in discomfort, launching triple kinetic slashes aimed right for the boy's neck.

Looking straight at his attacker, Niallus knew exactly where he was. It seemed that training on how to combat illusions, by making this butter ball sweat. Using Kinetic he avoided the attacks and, once in the clear, he dashed towards his opponent to punch him in the face with minor Kinetic embedded into it.

The moment that he'd realized his illusion had failed, Domenico tried to shove Niallus off with a kinetic magic wave of his own, but the huge Eskandr just powered right through it with a grunt and slammed a fist into the older man's jaw. His head snapped back and he staggered, his world spinning and his vision starring. He crashed into Yvain and Taleja, right beside the queen, and then a strange thing happened: Hylaenii, who'd appeared to be untouched, suddenly swayed and started to crumple on the spot.

The Duke pushed off and stumbled forward, a flaming fist coming straight for Niallus' head. He was - somehow - not visibly bleeding yet! The duel was not yet over and - it appeared - caution had been thrown to the wind.

The attack was so sudden and ferocious that it caught Niallus across the shoulder, burning a blackened swathe in his clothing and raising blisters on his skin, but it didn't draw blood. All it would take was for one of those to pop, however, and the duke would eke out a win on a technicality. He may have been old and fat, but he was determined, and a canny fighter.

Xiuyang, who had managed to get a front row spot near the queen thanks to Yuliya, wrested herself from the crowd. "No more bets! They're off, I said! Let go of me!" she shouted. "Are you alright?!" she asked as she tended to the queen, reaching up and fanning her with her stack of papers as she surreptitiously checked for any signs of foul play.

Niallus was getting tired of this. It seemed that the Duke was putting more force into his attacks. Niallus needed to end this duel before this loon got someone else killed. He drew once more for another kinetic hit, this time more of a kinetic shockwave.

What a disgusting display from someone who is supposed to be Yvain's equal in title, yet this blubbering mess was nothing short of a disappointment. It was then that he noticed the ball of a man plummet towards him. He held the tub of lard just away from him with a kinetic stop that acted as a sort of wall. "Don't you dare touch me." He proclaimed.

Then his eyes went towards his side and saw what seemed to be the Exarch about to crumple. He quickly caught her, his eyes tried to meet with hers. "Everything alright?"

The wave took the duke in the midsection and simply folded him. He flew backwards into the crowd, his momentum stopped only through the intervention of Zeno Secto. The Xolectan scowled and shook his head tightly. Had he shot a proud smile Niallus' way?

Domenico was let down limp on the ground, multiple ribs broken and organs ruptured, and Zeno Paireni rushed forward to heal him. The brutality of the attack had left no uncertainty in the matter: Niallus was vastly the stronger of the two, but it also hadn't been aimed to cut or slice. Only the gushing of the man's nose had given Niallus the win, technically speaking, not that there was anything left to fight for. The duke's son stepped in to see to his father and, for a moment, shot a venomous look Niallus' way. An older woman who might've been his mother scowled and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder to pull him back, shaking her head tightly as her husband was healed.

Meanwhile, thanks to Yvain's and Xiuyang's efforts, the monarch had kept her feet and the crowd had been distracted from her weakness, though she still seemed wobbly. She nodded in thanks to the both of them, holding onto Yvain's arm for a moment longer, and he noticed what must've been almost her entire weight on it. The crowd swirled, carrying Rikard, Roslyn, and Taleja away, and she seemed well enough to recover at that point. "Goodness!" she exclaimed, "Perhaps a bit too much excitement for a frail little flower like me for one day." She fanned herself, nodding again to dismiss their efforts and, just like that, she seemed to be standing steadily again, her entourage, with the exception of the tethered Hilarii, closing around her.

Hylaenii waved them off, particularly Siimond's warning look. "I am quite well," she assured them, "Truly." She turned her gaze toward the triumphant Niallus and flashed a smile, looking him up and down. "It seems the victory is yours, good sir. That is certainly one way to accomplish the task."

Most of the crowd was cheering. Some were discussing. Money was changing hands. "I shall retreat for a time indoors to have a word with the lovely Lord Berbignon who has just rescued my dignity, but I beg of you, attend me in ten minutes time when we are finished?"

Niallus smiled at Hylaenii "Thank you my lady." He bowed to her. "I didn't want to push it too far, but since he was trying to kill me, he left me with little choice." His face winced from the pain of his shoulder, as he moved it slightly, while also looking for his overcoat.

Desmond looked to Dory as he held out his mug of beer to her, "And would you look at that, the old coot couldn't handle the fist fight". Desmond shook his head in bemusement to hide his looks at the queen. Questioning to himself why she responded in that way.

Roslyn stood waiting for Niallus, holding his overcoat, once he was dismissed. She pulled him off to the side then smacked the glove on his chest to hold. Drawing in the light, she began to bind his small wounds until they vanished from sight. "You owe me a beer."

Tommy jeered from the crowd, fresh faced from a dance with Edyta, and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not bad for a dirt muncha! Get this bloke a full enthish!" Laska, however, had enough of his antics at this point and did not wish to further enhance the scene, so she dragged Tommy away, much to his chagrin. Alas, his beloved was more precious than starting antics.

Yvain was hesitant to let her stand on her own after seeing what had just happened, yet he let the point pass for now. "Your majesty." He paused "I was quite worried about you just now, you know?"

"It's not often I find myself with a monarch in my arms" He winked before he nodded in response to hearing about having a word with each other.

Xiuyang smiled, satisfied that the queen hadn't been hurt in the confusion. Slowly, however, she realized that her display of concern, however genuine, was likely a source of unwelcome attention. At the looks she was getting from the entourage, she quickly shrinked away, only to be engulfed by the crowd of her fellow students, eager to receive their winnings. "Alright, alright already. Let me—hey. HEY. Don't touch my fucking papers!" she snapped, her mood turning foul in an instant. "Line up properly, or you get jack shit! Got it?!"

The crowd soon began to disperse, congratulations and commiserations in order, and the band who'd been playing the entire time were once again appreciated by their guests. The duke and his entourage beat a hasty retreat, thoroughly humiliated, and were soon gone. Matters carried on as they had, only with more drink, more dance, and more merriment. One particularly obnoxious Enthishman was a source of some laughter, as his date took him by the ear and dragged him away.

Queen Hylaenii, meanwhile, retreated into a quiet side room, followed by a couple of her ladies in waiting and Yvain de Berbignon. Just what happened in there was unknown to all others.

Dory was passing her money along. . . Even though she did not even bet. . "Ah, bummer. I at least thought he would've had a bit more juice in him. Guess he truly was like a glass of wine. . . rotund but easy to break. . ." She graciously accepted her friend's mug and took a nice gulp. "That hit the spot. . ."

Desmond chuckled as he quietly took her money and then slipped it back to her. He lightly held her shoulder as he began to walk her to the tables, "Here, let's get you somewhere to sit and some food to eat. You'll be hitting the wall fast if we don't".

Dory just stared at Desmond as he tried to make her 'act responsible' or something. "Booo, no fun. What're you, my biiig brothehr?"

She then looked over at the wall and began to draw. "I can hit that wall fast. . . Even without food"

Desmond laughed, "Well they normally call things like this a night to remember, not an hour to remember".

The Feskan then let the energy disapate and nodded slowly. "Guess so. . ."

It was not ten minutes but, rather, fifteen, when the queen emerged from that room, lips pressed together in a most satisfied smile. Monsieur de Berbignon departed about a minute later with one of her ladies in waiting and it was not long until they were a feature on the dance floor.

They were far from the only couple. Tommy and Edyta danced with a joyful abandon that was the envy of many others. Leon and Kaureerah had the grace of performers and, rushing in late from a meeting, Ciro was impeccable in scooping Xiuyang up into his arms and planting a dramatic kiss on her. Chad spent an increasing amount of time with a different Tyrel than he was used to, but it certainly didn't seem to bother either of them. Desmond helped a drunken Dory. Gradually, others paired up as well, or didn't.

Most notable, however, was Queen Hylaenii herself. Emerging like a vision, swirling with kinetic magic, she took Niallus' hand, pulled him in close, and twirled with him on the floor. She leaned in until her lips brushed his ear. "You were incredible," she whispered, and the music ebbed and flowed and the world faded away. If she was one of the first to leave the dance floor, she was also one of the happiest, and she did not leave alone.

After some... unexpected adventures during the day, the Queen of Mycormii attends a ball in her honour, her secret safe with Desmond, for now. Three escorts attend with her, each possessing his own agenda. First, there is the Tarlonese operative, Chad'amis'yida'thala, an enemy kept closer and a test of Tarlon's boundaries. Yet, he proves more interested in chasing Hylaenii's ladies in waiting. The second is Yvain de Berbignon, and both power and intrigue swirl about the proud Perrench royal in equal measure. Surely, he will follow up on the cryptic invitation that the young monarch received during her luncheon in the park. Finally comes Niallus Saberhagen, a stalwart Eskandishman known for his blunt speech and protective ways. Yet, when an opportunity presents itself to win the queen's favour at the risk of inciting a diplomatic row, it is up to him to navigate it!

---

F O U R : D E S ' L A N

F O U R : D E S ' L A N

"Your majesty, you simply cannot."

Hylaenii was out of bed, sitting in her chair and looking up at him, quite cross. "I can too, you old goat," she protested, "and I shall."

He came in closer, his bearing radiating concern, and sat at the corner of her bed. "It is true you are queen and I cannot forbid you from doing what you wish, but I strongly advise against it. Please, my queen. You are already so very taxed and your enemies gather."

She looked away, taking a deep breath and shaking her head tightly. "It isn't about that pretty Eskandish boy, is it?"

"Or the pretty Enthish one?"

"I am young, sir, and I have appetites."

"But no, majesty, I assure you it isn't about them." He shook his head regretfully. "I was once young too."

"Yes yes. back in the age of heroes." She waved dismissively, but softened the gesture with a smile. Truly, she could not imagine resenting Siimond, for he was the sole figure she knew, with complete certainty, would always be on her side.

"This is about the security of your reign, my queen, and what you might do for your people, but if the truth were to be discovered -"

"Yes, I know," she interrupted. "Then that would be me ended, and all I wish to achieve."

"The more you do this, the more pieces you put into play on a very small board -" He reached for her hands and she took his and squeezed them.

"Oh, but they are my pieces, dear Siimond," she insisted. "Come now, you have often spoken of my cleverness. Surely that was in earnest, so allow me exercise of it."

"They may be your pieces, majesty," he acknowledged, with a deferential nod, "but they may not always be." He pursed his lips. "The board tilts, it changes, and you have already seen how ruthlessly our adversaries play."

She glanced away, jaw tightening. "But I am the best piece on my own board. Am I to simply pull myself from it and trust good order to fate?"

"Vyshta may be random in her acts, but she is not unfair."

"Oh I say, Siimond, I am due for some of that fairness."

"My queen..." He looked pained, and she could not bear to see him such. With a final squeeze, she released his hands and backed away. "One more day, Siimond," she pleaded. "Give me one more, whatever they need to do. Perhaps I can have another? Just a small one?"

Siimond bit his lower lip. "Heavy is the head that bears the crown," he commiserated. "I know it has not been a fair burden to bear." His eyes lingered on the girl before him - for such had she been when he'd first come into her service - and he well knew it. "But you bear it with dignity and I'd not be here supporting you if I didn't believe that you could save our people."

She sighed and nodded, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I just... I need to be there to make those vital connections. To keep abreast of them." She swallowed and grimaced. "So, is that your way of saying 'no'?" she inquired.

"It would not be trusting good order to fate," Siimond assured her. "Lady Hilarii has done this many times."

"At events of no consequence!" Hylaenii protested. "One more day, Siimond. Give me one more."

He bowed his head in acquiescence. "One more."

---

Ingrid arrived at the townhouse on the back of Drakhopp, her most beautiful Qilin. She was dressed rather comfortably as where she had planned was rather adventurous to get to. With a light lift of telekinesis, Ingrid dismounted Drakhopp and guided him to the servants to watch over him. He gave him a treat of dried pork and handed some more over to the guards to keep him tame in case he became fussy.

Just behind Ingrid were Tommy and Rikard, riding Latt Jagare, the ever-special rainbow savannah runner. He wasn't the most comfortable with the 2 men on him but with Rikard at the helm, he obeyed the tiny mage. He was much more feisty but with a simple kneel he would quiet down, not that it comforted the lowly servants much.

Soon they were entering the townhouse and, of course, they were not to meet the queen right away, they were to meet the ladies in waiting. "Lady Penderson." One of them gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"Lady Tyrel," Ingrid returned the nod with a light curtsey, and with a little prodding Thomas did as well. Rikard was in no need of instructing. Ingrid gave an enthusiastic smile, "Is Her Majesty ready?"

"Well, you see," she looked to the other ladies in waiting, "Her Majesty loves to be properly outfitted for any event and there wasn't much description in your letter regarding the itinerary..."

Ingrid let out a small gasp, "Oh I'm terribly sorry!" She pulled some notes from her hand purse, "I and other Eskandish have set up a small forest party in the sacred grove near the outskirts of Ersand'Ernise so Queen Hylaenii could experience a part of Eskandish culture."

Ingrid went on to describe the festivity in loving detail, from the art to the music, to the boxing, to the optional use of psychedelics. It may have seemed rather simple, but Ingrid seemed excited to share it with the Queen.

The ladies listened with their complete attention, asking the occasional question and exchanging excited glances. Once in a while, they giggled in amusement and it remained this way until an orderly bustled down the stairs with a message: Her Majesty Hylaenii would be delighted to receive them now.

Indeed, while the guests had been kept waiting for quite a while, at this point, it was an open secret that Queen Hylaenii of Mycormii was anything but punctual. Ladies Sanette and Irenii kept them occupied with conversation and discussion of the day's plans all of the way up the stairs, the former taking the lead - at quite a relaxed pace - and the latter bringing up the rear.

Ingrid, Tommy, and Rikard were ushered into the breakfast room at around half past three Shune, just on time to see a door close, with something being pushed through it. They did not have to search to find the queen at her table in the sun room, Ladies Seliin, Tyrel, and Hilarii sharing a nearby table with old Siimond. She exchanged a few words with them and rose, gliding across the tiled floors to meet her guests in her large dress. "I am ever so sorry for the delay," she exclaimed. "Ghastly behaviour if I do say so myself, but the ball was... quite a late night." Her eyes twinkled with mischief and she twisted halfway about, gesturing at the indulgent breakfast being brought inside. "Would you care for something to eat before we get started? It's the very least I feel I might do."

Ingrid had been warned about Queen Hylaenii's punctuality but, to be frank, she could not give a damn. There were very few times she could share Eskandish customs in Ersand'Ernise without being labeled a barbarian, joking or not. You could almost swear that those Perrench and Revidians wanted the most boring Victendes you could imagine: sitting around in a gaudy church listening to some old second son read the menana ever so dispassionately.

But with her leading, she could show a more active way of having fun. After all, the gods Ingrid had met were quite fun. She lowered her head to the queen, "It is of no mind." Ingrid looked over the spread, it looked quite appetizing and, with the events coming, a good breakfast was most appropriate. Her only worry was whether Tommy knew how to eat in front of a lady of her stature, could she risk it?

"I would be most graced if you'd let me," What was the worst that could happen from partaking in some tasty treats?

Tommy strolled into the breakfast room with a casual swagger, sneaking glances at the many pretty Yasoi ladies but not letting his eyes wander. Still, when he gazed upon the queen, he saw why Desmond had expressed such interest. He took a small bow, though it was slightly forced, as he did not often lower his head to anybody. His eyes scanned the table and the delicacies being brought inside; he'd heard from his best friend that a Full Enthish had been served, but he chimed in after Ingrid spoke.

"No worries, bab. 'Round here, they call it workin' on Torragonese time." he chuckled to himself at his own joke, before nodding to Ingrid. "Some brekky wouldn't go amiss though. Ingy's got a big day planned for ya, or so I've 'erd." he pulled out a chair and sat opposite the royal, twirling a fork in his hand.

"No, I think I shall refuse," the queen joked at Ingrid, smiling impishly. She shook her head. "The ways we speak for formality's sake." She clapped her hands together and led the trio. "Come now," she declared. "The kitchens here are a revelation." The queen grabbed hold of the table and swinging herself awkwardly onto her seat. "Truly, they can make near anything, and they'll do it for me too." She grinned, leaning in as the others seated themselves.

Not much ever seemed to ruffle Hylaenii. If others were not the most pinpoint in their etiquette, she seemed to sense it and adjust flawlessly. Tommy, however, was a whole different breed. She twisted on the spot to look over at her ladies. "Well that's a new one," she remarked. "Bab..." she tried the term out with an uncertain smile, blinking and glancing over at Tommy. "I don't think I've ever been called that before."

"Must be an Enthish term for royalty, highness," joked Irenii.

"You should be greatly honoured," laughed Hilarii.

"Well, Mister Kavanaugh," Hylaenii declared, "It appears I owe you a compliment of similar magnitude in return." She tilted her head, the beginnings of a smile ready to burst free of her lips. "Please do enjoy the 'brekky' I had prepared for you. I've heard it's considered quite the delicacy by Enthish standards." She reached over to reveal the infamous 'Full Enthish'.

Ingrid did not tense as much as to have a miscommunication in her head. She had tried to word herself gracefully but the break in normal thought caught her stunned. She cursed Desmond for but a moment for not sharing a drop of her mannerisms besides her tardiness.

But she continued, being teased was nothing new for the Eskandish sea giantess. She had been conditioned by the best Ersand'Ernise had to offer. She sat in front of the many cloches and found herself taking guesses on what might be in them. In the end, she opened up the 2nd closest dish to reveal...

Just some fruit in a bowl. Some Ingrid knew, some Ingrid didn't. Either way, she was quite happy with her decision. Fruits were awesome.

Since they were enjoying 'brecky', Ingrid asked Queen Hylaenii, "Are there any new foods that have caught your attention?" as she took a bite of this very fluffy looking fruit.

Hylaenii regarded Ingrid. "You can reveal as many as you like," she encouraged. "Oirase knows skinny little me won't eat them all." She turned with an air of fond puckishness to regard Siimond. "That's why we have him!"

A couple of her ladies giggled. Siimond raised an eyebrow. "Would majesty like the crusts removed from her toast this time?" he asked, and they laughed some more. Rikard's eyes darted about and he tried not to crack up. "I mean... I, sometimes, you know..."

But then Ingrid had an interesting question and the queen pondered it as she took a fork and knife to her sausage. She enjoyed a ladylike bite and blinked. "Well, I've been rather impressed by Eskandr sausage of late," she remarked.

Ingrid was rather the adventurous eater, more interested in things she had not had than the usual options. She joined in some of the laughter but upon hearing the little one at the table show a liking to crustless bread, Ingrid quickly tended to his request. "Here you go Rikard," she handed the crustless bread over to him with some butter and jam.

Then came the sausage joke, she had heard about Niallus's stellar performance at the ball so the joke made her question if the kind puppy she knew was actually able to bed a queen. Either way, it wasn't her business but she decided to play along, "Oh they are nice! Have you tried any Joruban ones? Nicely spiced and well smoked." Ingrid did not let any smirk show in case this was just her liking Eskandish sausage. "You should try them with some barbeque sauce if you ever get the chance."

Rikard's eyes widened. "I mean, you didn't have to. I was just..." He caught himself. To admit he'd only made the remark to save the queen some face would have been to defeat the purpose of the act. Instead, he swallowed. "Haha. Thanks. Old habits, you know?"

The queen took Ingrid's response in stride. "Well, I am not quite the connoisseur someone of my station should be, I admit," she replied, "but I've a fondness for the spicier things, and dab of sauce is always appreciated, to whet one's palate, as I imagine we both know."

Tommy smiled at the comments. They were ladies far above his station, and he was never one to take little jabs the wrong way. They were certainly more playful than others, and the fact she'd gone out of her way to present him with familiar cuisine warmed his heart a little. "Desmond wasn't lying." he muttered, bowing his head in genuine respect this time. It looked delectable. "Y'know, we humans 've got somethin' to learn about hospitality from your people. Cheers, your majesty." he spoke with a grin, raising his cup of tea in the air in salute to the queen as he began to dig in.

Then, he began to listen. He could feel how uncomfortable he was making Ingrid and Rikard by his lack of etiquette, and didn't want to botch their chances. Still, her comment about sausage caused him to spit out some tea and choke in laughter. Had that madlad done it after the scrap? He managed to reach his hand in time to avoid spraying the table, and wiped with a napkin. He picked up one of the sausages with a fork, looked at the queen with a shit-eating grin as he'd finished laughing, and gave it a wiggle before taking a bite. The more she spoke, the more he began to enjoy her company, but boy was it hard to not crack an innuendo or a dirty joke, for she'd taken them all and dressed them in the language of high society. He had much to learn. You're bloody remarkable he thought to himself, as he began to mop up the remainder of his breakfast.

The queen turned to him with a smile and she tilted her head as he wiggled the bratwurst. She raised hers as well in a sort of toast. "Oh, but it's as nothing after I kept you waiting so." She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and regarded his antics. "Speaking of which... are you going to finish or just play with your sausage, Tommy?"

Ingrid was quite pleased that Rikard liked it. She found herself smiling, maybe with a bit of a smirk about the current atmosphere the queen had created. Utterly different to stately dinners in the Greenlands. And oh so dangerous the Queen was to be around.

Ingrid's smirk only grew wider and less restrained as she made more jokes. Gods give Ingrid strength to not burst out laughing. "I certainly do, your Majesty," Ingrid left it at that and finished her breakfast, they had a party to attend.

Tommy nearly cried tears of joy and approval at that moment. In his minds, she was honorary Enthish from this moment onward. He finished his sausage and smiled at her. He too, would try this veiled language. "Apologies. Takes me a while to finish, but I prefer a marathon than a sprint, your majesty." the words felt unnatural coming from his lips, and he too dapped his mouth with a napkin, but he met her eyes with a cheeky smile of approval and finished up the remainder of the breakfast she'd had prepared for him, patting his stomach at the end.

"Oh you!" chirped the queen, flicking at him halfheartedly with her napkin, "The both of you." She shook her head. "Truly after mine own heart. That which is over so quickly is rarely worth doing in the first place."

It was in that jovial spirit that they concluded their breakfast, Rikard not quite sure what to make of anything here. The innuendo certainly didn't elude him but was it appropriate for him to joke this way in the company of literal royalty, and not just of some little place like Feska or Pest, either.

His concerns aside, however, it was naught but ten minutes later that the trio found themselves waiting in the foyer, momentarily separated from Queen Hylaenii until she pulled up in her royal carriage. Behind it was a second carriage for most of her ladies. "So, I've heard so very much about today's planned events," she enthused, pushing the door open, still very much in the frilly gown that turned her lower half into a bell. "What say you guide us there, Lady Penderson?"

"I would love to," Ingrid guided the Queen to her choice in draconic mounts. Ingrid complimented her choice of Latt Jagare, he was very fast and was used to enhancements from his rider. To Tommy and Rikard, she gave control of the Qilin and warned them not to get him too excited or he would leap over houses for fun. Ingrid would simply use magic to run, leap, and fly with them as it was the most fun she could have on any journey.

The trip out of the city's walls was rather quick as she let the guards know well ahead of their departure. The woods grew wilder and more dense, these were not the woods that carts liked to travel. But suddenly, a path emerged. It was alit with some markings and well decorated with all manner of berry bushes and flowers. The path looked well walked but didn't seem overmanaged, it aimed to strike a natural balance and did so with change. Some Eskandish could be seen tending to plants with tools and binding.

Animals that would normally be skittish were comfortable here after decades of gaining trust. As they went down the path, the sounds of deep, resonating drums could be heard. It resounded within the chests of the group approaching,

"It seems some have already started," Ingrid smiled as they entered the main grove.

Maybe around three to four dozen people were within initial viewing but there seemed to be a few dozen more doing things out of sight for now. Large drums were set up and lazily played with some men and women playing wind instruments with them. The noise was rather harmonious despite the separate groups.

Some seemed to lightly dance within the flower field, taking people into them and seemingly disappearing. Others knitted crowns for each other, others sang, and some painted. It was a rather lively event.

A wooden platform sat in one of the farther corners and had many people gathering there laughing. You could already hear the sound of fighting and cheers happening there.

And by the tree was the most important person: Master of spirits and smoke, giver of all good things, the drug guy. And for this, there was a copious amount of beer and cider, spirits and wine, weed and mushrooms.

As they arrived, many turned to greet the newest guest, one of the older Eskandish men stepped forward, "We are honored to have you at one of our festivals, please enjoy yourself and ask of us anything," he gave the most sincere and politeness bows to the Queen of Mycormi.

If the Queen was plenty adventurous, she was not greatly accustomed to riding a Savannah Runner, and it showed in how the beast moved and how she nearly fell off twice, only catching herself with kinetic magic. By the time that she arrived, she was exhilarated but exhausted. It was only a few moments later when the ladies and Siimond arrived as well, the former moving to fix her hair immediately.

Queen Hylaenii was quick to wave them off as soon as she was presentable, and she inclined her head respectfully to the gentleman. "Well, I just might be full of questions, then," she teased.

Tyrel was already off to view the fights. Sanette headed towards the flowers and painting, and Seliin towards the taller flower fields and forests, Rikard glancing curiously in her wake as if to say, "may I?" Irenii, meanwhile, poked around the mushrooms with quite a good deal of curiosity and, before Hilarii could go anywhere, Siimond stopped her cold in her tracks with a hand on the back of her wheelchair - not that she'd have gotten very far anyhow. He shook his head tightly and the tethered seemed to remember her duty.

Hylaenii turned to Ingrid, however. "And what would my fellow sausage appreciator recommend?" she inquired, tilting her head with a coy curiosity.

Some of the Eskandish nearby snickered at the line and just a tad bit of redness took hold of Ingrid's face. She wasn't terribly active in the flower fields one might say but it still might be enough to make her peers tease her forever more.

Ingrid nodded at Rikard, "But don't stray too far, the flowers have a way of keeping you there."

She petted her pretty dragon and rewarded him for letting the queen ride upon his colorful self. "Well, it depends if you want to partake in some drugs. Some of our people believe they enhance our religious practices and I would always recommend at least the Brandaeble cider."

"After that, watching the sports is always good. Then I usually end it with a joyous frolic for the spice of life."

"Lady Hilarii?" the queen pronounced, her tone suddenly formal - or was it only mock-formal?

"Majesty?"

"I'd like to partake of some of these amusements."

Lady Hilarii glanced over at the various psychoactive substances and the paraphernalia there for their ingestion. "The..." she pointed. "That, my queen?"

"I do think it would be a bit of fun, don't you, Lady Hilarii?"

The tethered blinked. She puffed out her cheeks. "Very much, ma'am."

"Good woman," said the queen, even being so kind as to help push Hilarii on her way. "And then maybe taking in some fights after this?"

Tommy wanted to frolick in the flower fields, but it was wrong. A woman had hold of his heart, and he resisted any urges of that nature and instead honed in on the conversation. For a royal to be so willing for some drugs and watching a good fight again warmed his perception of her. He'd known next to nothing about Mycormii before this, and now he found himself ready to serve. "I'd be happy to join ya, yer majesty. Could even be yer 'champion' in those fights if ya want. I was fuckin' lethal back home, 'especially if it's bare knuckle." he grinned at her, sampling a mushroom and giving a knowing wink toward Hilarii. She was a good friend to the lady.

Ingrid smiled and watched the poor tethered go over to the table and have to ask to try some of them. Out of pure sympathy, Ingrid recommended some of the drugs that were better for taking and continuing your day afterward, "Some of these have been known to take away your mind for an entire week when overly consumed," Ingrid gave some warning to not only the queen but their ladies in waiting. She knew that Yasoi partook in drugs but that doesn't mean they can handle something they have never had.

But as Ingrid and the queen watched Hilarii fade from the mortal realm, Ingrid had another question, "The festivals here are about Ipte and Eshiran, they are the more lively events..."

In the background, Rikard was quite busy making a fool of himself, fourteen-year-old that he was. Ingrid paused and watched what the Rikard incident brought. Then, she blinked and moved on to head over to the ring of Eshiran. "Lovely isn't it?" Ingrid genuinely laughed as she took a puff of a joint herself, it was all she would allow herself today. An honor guard was still a guard.

The ring currently had two large, bare chested men grappling each other and throwing themselves about. "There is something so entertaining about two men fighting with each other in a ring, magic or not," Ingrid commented as she enjoyed the clashing of strength. As they waited for Tommy of the Lethal Knuckles to enter the ring Ingrid asked a question to the Queen: "Are you a lover of the arts Queen Hylaenii?"

The ladies had gone off on their own adventures, and Queen Hylaenii was alone with Ingrid amid a sea of unfamiliar and semi-familiar faces. Two men were throwing haymakers at each other in the ring and, absently, the yasoi watched them.

"Anything can be art, in a sense," she decided, as Rikard and Hilarii both made fools of themselves - first separately and then together. At some point, the boy had managed to fall into her lap and now both were laughing hysterically. "Something is made and someone interprets it." She shrugged as one of the fighters went on a bit of a tear, bodyslamming his opponent and landing a brutal shot. The crowd swelled and shouted with energy but, by some miracle, the downed fighter managed to clinch and recover.

"In truth, I loved art as a girl but, as a queen, I find that it is a political necessity more so than something one can enjoy." She watched the fight again for a moment. Tommy would be up soon. "Why do you ask?"

Ingrid cheered as her fighter seemed to be doing better but started to wince when the other started to lay into him what would've surely been the end of the man's liver were it not for binding magic. She looked over. "I tend to agree, though I question if a viewer is truly needed for something to be art." Ingrid was starting to go through her own philosophy she had learned and was more than willing to get into a verbal spar for fun. But she focused up.

"It's a shame, not being able to enjoy art for the sake of it," Ingrid frowned a little but moved on. "I ask that because, during this year's trials, I found a message in a bottle." She procured the note and offered it to the Queen. "It's a letter from Luumelan'tuuro'tarsii," Ingrid said rather slowly so as to not mess up her name, "and it is to a very famous Perrench artist, Guy Marchand."

"The note would seem to indicate that his signature style was not his own but Luumelan'tuuro'tarsii's," Ingrid tried to suss out if she had caught the Hylaenii's attention with the dramatic mystery.

The queen let out a low whistle as she pored over the page, and her eyes flicked to Ingrid, pregnant with some statement or question. "It's written in somewhat archaic prose, but..." She trailed off, reading it aloud and translating as she went.

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Dearest Gerard,

I finished it today: the moon. I thought you might want to know - you or whoever finds this message. In truth, it isn't for you, Gerard. You'll probably never see it or, perhaps, it will find its way to you after months or years. Perhaps I am beside you as you read it and we're having a laugh together at my sappy prose. Maybe there are children running about or at least dogs. You passed the dog test after all. Are we old? Do we call each other man and wife? Have I knit you a quilt? I hope it's a good one. Lie to me if it isn't.

Yet... why is it that I have this fear, hiding in the heart I show nobody, that I am writing this letter to a stranger? That us - the story of us - might be nothing more than a passing curiosity to someone who has never felt your breath on her skin, who has never heard the warmth of your laughter nor nestled in your arms on a windy beach in Luul'endaal to paint together as the sun sets?

Was it just one sweep of Ypti's finger? One Stresia? One Dorrad? One Rezain? Why did it feel like so much more? Why do I feel like we are so much more? The old may laugh at the dreams of the young, but I feel that they only protect themselves. I believe that they yearn, in their hearts, to have that feeling back: the feeling of possibility. Will our art earn us fortune or fame? Might you or or I - Shiin willing, both of us - be remembered many years hence? Might we share a name in the history books?

How I long for it, dearest Gerard. How I draw and paint and scribe and wile away my hours so that I might eat and sleep and wake another day in the hope that you shall find me or I shall find you and we might begin again where we left off. And yet, it feels like every step I take in this life I have now only leads me further away. Like grapes unchosen on the vine, I watch those possibilities wither.

If you are reading this with me, hold me. Kiss me. Laugh with me at a worry unwarranted. I will even let you grandma-kiss me near the ear. If you are reading this on your own, know that I look for you and I wait for you. Come to me, thal sil nashii'loi, and you shall find me at Luul'endaal on the night of Fortuna, where I will light a fire in that spot where we would sit together, the one where you painted the sun for me.

Until such joyous time, I will live, I will look, and I will create. I love you, across space and across time.

Yours,

Luumelan'tuuro'tarsii.

In the background were men pounding each other to a pulp, but the queen was visibly moved by the letter. She dug into the folds of her dress and extracted, from them, a kerchief to dab at her eyes. "I... She swallowed with some difficulty. "I shall return in just a moment." Abruptly, she turned and hurried off. "Siimond," she could be heard calling. "Siimond!"

Ingrid had hoped it would grasp the Queen just enough to give her permission to venture into Mycormii to learn more of the artist lost to time. It would have been the greatest honor as a researcher to uncover something once lost and share it so others may know.

But as Queen Hylaenii read, those thoughts began to dissipate. It was so personal, something that Ingrid knew was not meant for her eyes. Every worry, every detail so sweet it would make you blush to say it aloud, it all enraptured the romantic inside of her.

If it was just that, Ingrid would have felt little more than giddy and satisfied with the letter. But within the letter, she found sources of bitterness that tarnished those pure feelings. How devastating it was to know her name was not next to his, that neither Shune nor Ipte had bestowed them that gift.

And one that only now settled in Ingrid's mind. She had thrown away the ability to grow old with someone. Never to hold one in the morning when your bones ache from the cold. Never to turn gray and watch your children come visit you. She could never live that life.

And so she wept towards the end for so many reasons but she would not say. Instead, she wiped it away before it could impact her makeup. She turned to Hylaenii and was overjoyed she was not the only one brought to tears by the letter. But before she could have a conversation on her next request, the rambunctious queen was off again. She thought she should stay, it was somewhat implied but still, she decided to break some decorum and head with her. She was interested in what the older gentleman had to say anyway.

When Ingrid caught up with Hylaenii, the yasoi was already hovering anxiously and eagerly around Siimond as he attempted to extract something from his satchel. "Yes yes, my queen. I am endeavouring to find it."

"I shall pray that you do, sir. I had asked you to bring it."

"You had asked me to bring a great many things, majesty," Siimond grumbled, as he rifled through the bag. "and if I had, we might just have been accused of trying to flee the kingdom."

"Be not saucy with me, you old codger. It's got to be there. It goes everywhere with you." She looked about ready to take over and burrow into his bag herself.

Then, all at once, he came up with a sealed wooden tube and brandished it away from the queen. She pulled back an arm's length, nodded, and smiled. "Now," he remarked in exasperation, "for the love of Shiin, will you tell me what this is all about?"

"The letter, Siimond. She has the other letter."

"The other letter?"

Hylaenii nodded almost impatiently. "Yes! Yes, look!" She held it out. "The one from her."

At that, Siimond's old eyes widened and he shuffled in, reverently extracting a paper equally as old and yellowed from the tube. He held it out for them all to read and narrated.

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"Dearest Luumelan,

The westerly currents at this time of year will bear this letter to you, or so is my hope. Would that they would bear me. Perhaps I might wash up on our beach, cold and bedraggled, and be warmed by your bonfire, as it was when we first met. I must now accept that there is a truth at the heart of cliche for it seems both like a week and like so very long ago when we spent that magic year together.

I have now known the admiration of others for my work, and what an intoxicating thing it is. This Somnes and Hundri were spent in residency at the Palais de Verre in Solenne, at work on a ceiling for Prince Rouis himself. I think it might please you to know that I slipped jath'tarsii in there, in a figurative way. Perhaps when you come to visit, when this tragedy of Rose Cross is at an end, you might try to spot it. Perhaps, when the curtain between us lifts, I might hear of your work and know of your successes. I shall be disappointed if I am not metaphorically represented as a dog at least once and I am eager to be surprised. You are, and always have been, the warm shadow in whose shade I dwell and in whose footsteps I follow.

Ma précieuse pêche, you are in everything that I do - in every waking hour, in every stroke of my brush. I feel your fingers on mine, guiding them; the gentle brush of your hair on my neck, and the soft lilt of your voice in my ear: 'you do not need to hurt the page'. I have - I swear it - stopped murdering my canvases, and the dividends that it has paid! I shall use the funds from my work, dearest Luumelan, and take flight across the sea once this madness has blown over. I shall take flight and, there, I know exactly where I shall find you. I see it, already, in my mind's eyes. I wonder... shall I appear sopping wet this time?

Please, I beg of you, my love, keep faith with me. Keep patience. The Gods test us but, they are not unkind and these letters in a bottle, just like the one we found, might act as a testament to our young love and inspire others when we are in the history books. How I want to hold onto that as unshakable truth. How I want to hold you. As I lie, every night, I can feel you there. I can smell the peach blossoms in your hair, and I know that, before long, we will be together.

Until this joyous day, I will live, I will wait, and I will create. I love you, across space and time.

Forever yours,

Guy Gerard Marchand"

Solemnly, Hylaenii raised Ingrid's letter and placed it beside its counterpart. Both were old and time-worn, discolored in different ways, with different inks and handwriting, folded in different ways, but each one contained half of a heart - on the left margin of Luumelan's and the right margin of Guy Gerard's - and it was as if the two had been drawn by a single hand.

The three of them - an old man and two young women - stood there for a moment in silence and then Hylaenii sunk to her knees on the soft green grass. Siimond, not daring to lean on his queen for support as he lowered himself, slowly sat beside her, the effort clearly taxing him. His eyes were deep pools and he was almost trancelike in his movements. He came to a stop with a light 'whuff' and was still, looking at the letters.

Ingrid sat down with them, if only to not tower above. The message was... A lot. In some ways, it was more than she could have hoped for. It seems they were Master and Student but they had become lovers. It was so sweet and pure in a way. But why did they not meet again?

Had he grown intoxicated with the fame as he mentioned?

Had he moved on to a new Romance?

Why had he washed ashore in Mycormii to begin with?

Where is the place with peaches? Where did they draw their sunset?

Is there more to the 'across space and time'?

All these were questions she had but one took precedence above all others. "Sir Siimond," Ingrid waited patiently for a reply. No doubt he was lost in thought, "May I ask who you are to Luumelan?" she asked ever so lightly. Her curiosity had peaked but she wasn't going to push it on an old man.

Queen Hylaenii turned to Ingrid for a moment. "He's not even told me, but he takes it everywhere with him, so one might only assume -"

"Her... descendant." The old man shrugged, and he took off his glasses to wipe the back of his sleeve across his eyes. "Please excuse me, majesty." He bowed his head in her direction. "My lady." He did the same to Ingrid. "I fear my conduct at the moment is not professional."

"Oh bugger your professionalism for a moment, Siimond. You're a person as well and I'd be a monster to hold your feelings against you at a time like this." She looked as if she were about to reach out and squeeze the old man's shoulder for comfort, but she pulled back uncertainly and her eyes flicked to Ingrid.

"Thank you my queen," he rumbled, "Your wisdom and kind spirit far outstrip your age. Nonetheless, one must take pride in his station and purpose." He sniffed and dabbed and seemed somewhat better. "She was, as far as I know, the great-grandmother of my great-grandmother." Siimond took a handful of breaths and was steady. "In my boyhood, I often heard stories about her. Down in Luul'endaal, we have a festival on the beach every year on Fortuna." He shook his head. "Some of my very finest memories are from there." He swallowed. "My aly'jath'nan was not... all there in her old age, but she told stories from her aly'jath'nan about Luumelan. She'd always said that it was her who'd started the Fire Festival." He nodded slowly, digesting it. "I'd always taken them as the mere fanciful tales of an elder. Now, to find out that it was true - it was all true." he breathed again, glancing guiltily at the two women for his tears.

Ingrid was caught between her want to support him as was her nature and to respect his desire to stay professional. She didn't care to hide emotions in the sacred grove, a place where she was allowed to be human. She had cried many times as a girl and as a woman here. Over trivial matters that merely stung to ones that she still had not healed from.

She was poised to let him be, she was not his family and this was not his culture. All that changed for her when Queen Hylaenii had reached out but couldn't. Ingrid had been lucky that the one royalty she knew was so warm to her that she never even considered the divide. In the end, Ingrid placed her hand on Siimond's shoulder and said what she had been told, "Regnet är ingen börda för träden."

"I cannot imagine the feelings you are having," Ingrid contemplated her words. How does one speak to someone so old and with so much history? "But what I can say is that I'm happy that you were able to read it with your own eyes. Their names are finally together," she looked at the two halves of the heart.

Old Siimond nodded. He nodded and he swallowed. "Yes," he replied. "Yes, thank you. Words of wisdom to be sure." He thanked Ingrid with a brief smile and, from the other side, Queen Hylaenii also laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. If the rules of decorum and their respective stations in life prevented her from embracing him, then she could go at least this far, couldn't she?

She had held the letters together for some time, and now she sighed. It's as tragic as it is beautiful," she remarked. "Rejoice in the wonder of your family's history and not that she lost him, but that she knew him and now you know both halves as well." Letting her hand fall away, she took both letters up again. "Truly, this is a remarkable story, such as one I might've heard from a storybook as a little girl." Hylaenii leaned in. "Lady Penderson - Ingrid - has brought us an exceptional gift this day." She twisted where she sat and smiled warmly at Ingrid, bowing her head in thanks. "Do you remember those books, dear Siimond?"

"With pride, majesty," he replied, recovering a bit more of himself. "It was with those that you learned how to read."

"I did not merely learn. You taught me, as you taught me much in my formative years, as you continue to teach me, even this day, and I look forward to what you will teach me in the future." She smiled. "You dear old fool, you are brilliant, and the success of my reign shall be the product of that. Now," she concluded, "you have taught Ingrid here something as well, and I imagine you have yet more to teach."

She bowed back to Queen Hylaenii though it was very informal, "I am only overjoyed that the letters have finally reached each other after all these years." was all she said before Hylaenii told her appreciation to Siimond. It was sweet and caring in a way that seldom people get to witness.

"You have taught me much already with the letter," Ingrid gave thanks, "I originally was going to travel to Mycormii to find her descendants to uncover the secret but it seems I was blessed to meet one here in Ersand'Ernise."

"It occurs to me," said Hylaenii, rising and dusting off her dress, "that a pilgrimage there might be in order. I, for one, am eager to see this through, and I imagine that Lady Ingrid is quite invested as well." She held her hand out to him and he attempted to wave her off for a moment before taking it. "Their letters are reunited three-hundred twelve years later, but there's so much we still don't know!" Her eyes darted to Ingrid's. "I want to see this through. I want to know it all and... maybe there's a happy ending? I propose a trip to the Fire Festival at Luul'endaal." She cleared her throat. "With your permission, Siimond." She looked to him hopefully.

He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand to forestall him. "I say this not as your monarch, Siimond, but as a friend and student and, if I need to, I command you, as monarch, to respond in that spirit."

Ingrid's ear perked up upon the mention of going to the Fire Festival, "It would be quite the experience," she remarked. Though she tried to be reserved, it was obvious that she very much wanted to go and see what other secrets lay in wait at the fire festival.

Hylaenii looked her way with a barely-suppressed grin and then towards Siimond, expectantly. The old man let out a bark of laughter and sighed. He nodded. "How could I say no?" he chuckled. "Two lovely young faces filled with such eagerness?" He leaned in. "Oh, and maybe this old one too." He nodded again, firmer this time. "I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being intrigued." He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked about.

In the background, Rikard was spinning back and forth with Lady Hilarii in a clearing until she fell out of her wheelchair and landed atop him. Both were singing in gibberish. Lady Irenii, meanwhile, was lying in the grass, stroking it and staring up at the sky, while Sanette had made an outfit entirely of flowers and Seliin was a distant giggle in the forest. Tyrel, meanwhile, was rubbing Tommy's shoulders and whispering advice in his ear before his imminently-upcoming fight.

Siimond turned back to his queen and her new friend and was himself again, but perhaps a little bit changed, and for the better. "Let's do it," he decided.

After a night of unforgettable fun, the visiting young monarch finds herself prodded and pampered by her chief advisor, Siimond, and straining at her leash. Endeavouring to be involved in everything herself, she manages to extract his blessing to attend an Eskandish-style festivity planned by Ingrid, along with the rough Ethnishman Tommy and the child prodigy Rikard. While her ladies scatter to the winds once they reach the festival, Tommy joins a religiously-inspired fighting tournament, and Rikard stands to potentially lose his (already dubious) innocence, a question from Ingrid leads her, the queen, and old Siimond on a journey through the past where they uncover a beautiful and possibly tragic love story, written by the hands of artists who lived long ago. Less expected is the deep personal connection that makes itself felt.

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The Hourglass Order

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Q U E E N O F D I A M O N D S : A C T O N E

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O N E : A ' J U U

O N E : A ' J U U

It was well into the Hours of Eshiran. Flags fluttered in the breeze. Rooftops glowed golden by the Seagate, and guards stood uncomfortably in their dress uniforms, awaiting the arrival. All arrangements had been made. All stood ready,

and yet...

She was not there. Hylaenii'doren'ismax, Queen of Mycormii, had taken a step unprecedented within the lifespans of most humans in ordering a state visit to Ersand'Enise. No expense had been spared for the occasion. No red carpet was left unlaid. Over two hundred of the most promising students had competed for eighteen volunteer places and, now, they stood on the bridge that spanned the Mesulean River, between the inner and outer gates, in increasing bemusement.

Behind the facade of formal reception, orderlies scurried about, scouts were sent out. Presently, a dragon was sent aloft with a rider, yet no tethered were called upon, for her majesty had strictly forbidden their involvement. Minutes ticked by. Hands made their way around clock faces. Minutes turned into an hour. Eyes glanced at pocket watches. Murmurs rose.

Should the students who stood waiting - Evander, Esmii, and Roslyn - have done something? Was there anything that they could do?
# Chapter One Begins!

Esmii was not hiding her excitement well, she was bobbing up and down in place, she was also making sure that the dress that Sven had helped her pick for the occasion was clean and tidy as she wanted to make a good impression. On looking at how everyone else was standing still, she decided to try and calm herself, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. After she had calmed herself she then looked towards where the Queen was going to arrive from in anticipation she then had a thought I really hope she isn't going to turn up late like she normally does. This is an important occasion.

The time for the Queen to arrive had already passed, and she hadn't arrived. Esmii's worries had come true, she looked around at everyone and sighed, she then turned towards Roslyn and Evander and stated. "Well I really hoped that this wouldn't happen, but my Queen is well known to be fashionably late sometimes. I wouldn't do that." Esmii then quickly glanced back to the spot where the Queen was arriving from.

Roslyn had dressed with both her role and proper etiquette in mind for the first day. She shoved down the butterflies swarming in her mid drift. Her eyes kept scanning the welcoming scene while her thumb rotated the tarnished ring on her left hand. It was a developing tick of late, one born of anxiety and worry. Her head turned to her fellow students as her right eyebrow arched.

"How late is she usually? I'm not sure it's a good idea for her to take a detour." Roslyn shifted in place, feeling unusually restless.

The help scurried about, liveried guards and a handful of Zenos exchanging communication. The three students, however, were an island amidst this stormy sea: a bit of pageantry left to their own devices. That was when Esmii could just about make out a conversation:

"...should call the tethered," said one.

"Damn the stupid instructions. We can't have another head of state..."

Zeno Kedd and a senior orderly who they'd seen about before were conferring. A couple of others were nearby, part of the discussion. All seemed anxious.

"Attacked?"

"...place isn't safe and it's only getting worse."

"...say anything about a detour?"

There were a series of shaken heads.

"We should call..." said one, his recommendation cut off by a closing door. "She'll be discreet, right?"

Esmii looked at Roslyn and answered. "Well it really depends on what has caught her attention." Esmii turned towards the people scurrying around, and noticed the Zeno's talking, and she was able to hear bits of the conversation. She quickly turned back to the others with a worried look on her face, she then pulled Roslyn and Evander to her by their arms.

"Sorry but I need to tell you what I have overheard from Zeno's conversation." She then began to whisper and explain what she had heard, she then stated. "We need to come up with a plan. As it looks like these people have no idea what to do, and I can't leave my Queen in trouble."

Something was amiss. The odds of the Queen this late were slim to none in Evander's opinion. Her arrival was too high of visibility to simply wave off, even if according to Esmii the Queen at times could be fashionably late.

Esmii snatched Roslyn and him to the side informing them of the current situation, "I agree, this isn't fashionable anymore." Evander offered his plan, "We should scout ahead toward the forests where your Queen should have emerged from, see if we can't meet up with her or find anything that will lead us to where she is."

Roslyn stiffened a bit when Esmii took her arm, but she let herself be pulled along. Upon hearing her friend's words, she sighed heavily. Why can't things just go according to plan? She pushed down the concern and spoke. "I agreed. I say we have better luck retracing the path she would've taken to start."

It was at around that moment that Kaureerah, who'd been brought on to play the queen in, came hurrying over. She was stopped by one of the orderlies and voices rose. "Well yoo coold tell aus saumetheeng!" the eeaiko shouted, shaking her head. "Wee aur e reeesoorce! Oose aus!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to calm down and back up, miss. Matters are well in hand."

Kaureerah rolled her eyes, in a huff. "Soore looks lyke eet too mee." She spun on her heel and marched over to the other group. "Eny lauck foor yoo or heve yoo been shaut aut too?" She pursed her lips, and crossed her arms, foot tapping impatiently.

"Esmii overheard bits and pieces, but beyond that... We've been ignored. We're not going to be waiting around though." Roslyn grumbled, walking toward the gate.

Kaureerah nodded, businesslike but offering a supportive smile. "Very good." She started moving. "Soo wee goo nauw, yes?"

"I agree Roslyn, let's not wait any longer." Evander's eyes shifted to Kaureerah, "We can't be shut out of anything that we were never invited into to begin with, you can come with us, we're going to look for the Queen." Evander began to move toward the tree line, to move toward the Queen.

Esmii then explained to Kaureerah what she had heard while they were moving as she wanted to find her Queen. "Do you want to help us?"

Kaureerah nodded, already moving. "Bet," she said, pulling a wide sun hat lower over her face. "Eentoo Maudveelle wee goo? Eye'm neether kekaur oor heroo. They weell naut heve a praublem weeth mee."

So it was that the group of four approached the gate and... "Excuse me!" shouted the head guard, uncomfortable and irritable in this heat in his ornate dress uniform. "Excuse me!" He scurried over to intercept them.

Evander looked at the head guard with a tilt of his head, "You're excused?"

"Now they pay attention to us... " Roslyn grumbled then turned to a snicker at Evander's comment.

Kaurrerah's eyes slid his way and she grinned. "Doon't woorry," she reassured the guard, "Wee cen't eeven smell eet."

Evander slightly confused at Kaurrerah's comment, what would we be sme-. A slight smile crossed the corner of Evander's lips, tasteless, yet appropriate since this guard was now a nuisance.

'We each have our roles to play here!" the guard insisted, so focused on doing his duty as he saw it that he did not even register the mockery. "Heads older and wiser than yours - and mine - have this matter well in hand!" He was red-faced and sweaty and attempted to obstruct them.

Esmii couldn't stop her laughter. She then pulled herself together, turned to the Guard and stated. "We are here to meet and escort My Queen. What do you want from us?"

The guard blinked. "Uh... um." He came up short. "I have been instructed to, uh..." He swallowed. "Please? It's just my job?"

Esmii glared as she felt a strange feeling with the guard not being able to say anything. "Instructed to do what, cat got your tongue."

Roslyn frowned at Esmii's tone. "Easy, Esmii. I'm worried too, but no need to snap at someone doing their job. However, we can't do ours without a Queen. It's obvious no one knows where she is."

Evander stepped forward and placed his hand on the shoulder of the head guard and calmly said, "You have your job, we have ours." Evander walked passed him, "Let's go, we need to find the Queen."

The guard's eyes darted about, but then, from the other side, there was movement and the gate clanked open. A man and a woman hustled through, sweaty and disheveled. "Where the zeno?" the first demanded. His partner merely panted, hands on her knees, and looked up, regarding the approaching students bemusedly.

Evander immediately sensed haste and fright in the man and woman who hustled through the gate. Moving toward them as he had already passed the guard, "The zeno? Why? What is this about?"

I hope this will be quick, or we're just wasting time. Roslyn thought as she kept up with the others.

Esmii listened to what her friend said. She took a moment to calm herself, then glanced back at the guard and said. "I'm sorry for my rudeness, I am worried and it was bad of me to take out my worry on you."
Esmii was hurried past the guard, who merely nodded and bowed his head. The other pair turned immediately to Evander as Kaureerah hurried to his side, clearly seeing him as an authority here. "Are you the one we report to?" the tired man panted. His eyes darted to the other three uncertainly and, further, beyond the gate.

Evander nodded, recognizing their request about his station, "State your names and why you're here for the Zeno?"

The two looked at each other, uncertain. Then, the woman motioned for him to go on.

"Luis Zuninga, Lamplighters, sir."

"Yvette Laroux, Lamplighters, sir. We're here with an update on the queen. Her carriage has been located."

"I'm guessing she wasn't there with it? "Roslyn blurted out.

Evander's jaw tightened as he watched the man and woman approach, their expressions grave. He forced a stale expression instead of aggression. His fists clenched tightly in anticipation of bad news.

"And?"

Kaureerah nodded. "Yes, where ees shee?"

"Where is the Queen?" Esmii questioned them.

The man shook his head. "We don't know, sir." He posted his hands on his knees, out of breath but, at Esmii's additional aggressive prodding, there was a look that passed between the two, not going unnoticed among Evander, Roslyn, and - most of all - Esmii herself.

The woman shook her head. "She was... not... there when we arrived."

"Okay, what was the condition of the carriage and can you take us to it?" Roslyn requested, her finger rotating the ring on her finger once more.

The guards glanced at each other, seeming almost... relieved, but the man still hesitated. "It was parked in an out-of-the-way sideroad close to a local... tavern." He glanced the woman's way anxiously. "It was called the Cryin' Cyan." she shook her head. "We have no idea what her majesty was doing there," she insisted.

Roslyn's lips pressed for a moment. She forced herself to relax, but usually bars meant alcohol and drunkenness in her mind. "Come on, I know the place." She began to move past the guard.

Kaureerah nodded, hurrying along in her wake.

Esmii looked at Roslyn. "Let's all follow Rose, she knows a lot of the taverns around here." She quickly followed after her.

"Thank you both, the Zeno is that way, you should inform him about what you told us." Evander pointed sharply as he exited with Roslyn.

They should have been conspicuous, but they were not as they wound their way off of the Searoad and through the narrow, crowded streets of Mudville. The sun was hanging low above the horizon and, from here, they could see Ersand'Enise as the people of this place saw it: the great white towers looming jaggedly over their humble home, impaling the setting sun.

It was naught but ten minutes - with the help of chemical and kinetic magics - before they reached the place in question. People hurried about the last of their daily chores, using up the remaining daylight as if it were rationed because, in a sense, it was.

Outside of the doors, however, stood a pair of large, burly bouncers, but it was clear from the amount of latent energy that they stored that these men were also magic users. They seemed to be turning people away - perhaps because the queen was there?

"It looks like people are getting turned away at the entrance. " Roslyn relayed what she saw to her companions, her eyes shifting to the side. She knew of another way in. "There's a side entrance where I usually deliver the beer. Might be faster than talking with the bouncers."

Esmii decided to follow Roslyn's lead, as she doesn't frequent taverns much. "Ok we will follow your lead, unless anyone else has an idea."

Kaureerah considered. "Let mee try too woork my megeec aun them? Yoo check eraund te syde?"

Roslyn nodded, trusting Kaureerah could handle herself. "If you get into trouble, shout. " She slid away from the line and discreetly toward the tavern's side entrance.

Evander positioned himself strategically, his eyes darting between Kaureerah and Roslyn. He watched intently as Esmii followed Roslyn off the side of the Cryin' Cyan, his mind racing with calculations and contingencies. Each movement was a silent promise: he wouldn't let any harm come to them under his watch.

Kaureerah soon insisted that Evander accompany her as she went to speak with the bouncers. She did most of the talking. He exuded an air of authority as if he were her wealthy benefactor and they would need some discretion. She played it up. She pressed herself up against the guards: somewhere between easy and classy. Eventually, Evander simply dropped a bribe in their palms and, backed up by his clear status, it was enough to see the pair inside.

Meanwhile, the other pair was quicker. Roslyn had an almost-uncanny memory for places like this and the two of them slipped around to the side entrance, picked the lock with some kinetic magic, and infiltrated the bar.

It was the usual crowd one might expect, though this group seemed a bit better off than the average in Belleville, and the men and the women seemed to be largely sticking to their own groups. In the back, there was a curtained area and, outside of it, stood a cluster of yasoi, conversing in hushed and worried tones.

However, as the group drew closer, they felt something... strange. rather, it was a lack of something. Their energy abilities were hazy and indistinct. Their manas were sluggish and unresponsive.

Esmii while she was making her way towards the group of yasoi, she started to feel strange, this feeling felt somewhat familiar to her. "Not this again. Rose we have felt this before haven't we."

After pushing into the tavern, Roslyn stalled for a moment. Her skin crawled and brushed with the sensation of the field pushing down on her. "Yes, shit. Vossoriya. I think someone has an anti-magic device activated here. " Roslyn muttered back to Esmii. "Be careful. I should've brought my hand cannon."

Evander once again watched Kaureerah's magic, tasteless yet appropriate. When he recognized it was taking too long, he interceded with coin. Coin always spoke louder than sex. Why? Because with the right amount, a coin could pay for it twice over. They moved and let the two pass.

As they entered the Cryin' Cyan, a strange feeling tugged at Evander's mana. Each step closer to the curtained area felt like wading through quicksand, his energy draining inexplicably. He glanced at Kaureerah, "Kaureerah, do you feel that?", unaware of the invisible force sapping his strength. Evander's hand twitched toward his side, instincts on high alert, ready to confront whatever malevolent presence lurked beyond the veil.

"Haurd too meess," she replied, nodding warily as they linked back up with the others. "Megeec deesrauptoor."

All four came to a stop before the group of yasoi, who looked them up and down warily. "Can we help you?" asked one woman, perhaps a little more hostile than she might've wanted to come across. She clearly bled worry and anxiety into the air around her.

Esmii stopped, and thought for a moment on how she would answer as she didn't want to startle anyone or cause a problem. She then answered the lady. "Sorry we didn't mean to bother you, we are just looking for someone, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

The woman's eyes darted over to one of the others and a series of glances were exchanged among the group. Finally, a taller man shouldered through. "Who?" There was no pretense or false politeness: merely a question that needed to be answered.

Evander shifted his eyes to the bullish brute, "Who's asking?"
Evander didn’t want to give up the goose. They didn’t know these Yasoi, and to inform anyone here that the Queen was missing—or even suspected of being in the Cryin' Cyan—would have severe ramifications if not shared with the right people who had her interests in mind. His eyes darted around, assessing the strangers in the room, and weighing their potential trustworthiness.

The man was not intimidated whatsoever. "The guy in charge of this place." he pursed his lips and nodded, eyes flicking among the quartet, evaluating them. "And I might turn that question back on its asker."

Evander smirked, now the pissing match boy arrives. Instead of engaging he obliged, readjusted himself properly, "Hmm, my mistake, my name is Evander Fino Synesti of Revidia, this is Esmii, Roslyn, and Kaureerah, you are?" His voice carried a hint of challenge as he introduced his companions, his palms lifting to each of them in turn.

"As I said: the man in charge of this place. Call me Shad. Now, what business brings you here?"

Kaureerah looked anxiously between the two and, before, Evander could speak, she did: "We heve e frend dauwn there end saumwaun hes toorned aun e megeec deesraupter."

It was at about that moment that the woman from earlier cut back in. She was, upon second glance, quite well-dressed, though likely not of particularly hig birth herself, inasmuch as yasoi made distinctions there. "You're from the school," she prodded, with a burning anxiety, "yes?"

Esmii nodded to the question that the woman was asking. "Yes we are." she simply said in response not wanting to give too much away.

Evander nodded to Shad to conclude out of respect so as not to prod the bear anymore and shifted to the woman. "Yes, we're from the school," Evander confirmed with the woman, "and, we're running out of time; our friend might be in danger."

The woman regarded the students and seemed to take their meaning. "She's my friend as well, and she was meeting with some locals... to try to reach out to them. I arrived here perhaps thirty seconds before you did." She shook her head. "She's a good woman, and a good queen, I promise."

As they watched, a large man was going to work on the hinges of the locked door with some pliers. "He is not one of ours," she said, voice heavy with implied meaning. Her eyes went briefly to Kaureerah, Roslyn, and - most especially - to Esmii.

Esmii felt a chill from the woman's tone, the sound from her tone was enough to get her attention. Esmii leaned in to her. "Is he from here? What do you know of them." but given this was involving her Queen, she wasn't going to take the risk.

He's not one of ours. Her message was clear. The bells were rung, and the alarms were subtle but loud. Looking beyond the interaction, Evander spotted a large man, impossible to miss, trying to pick at the locks of the only door behind the curtained area,

"What's behind there, Shad?" Evander’s voice cut through the tension as he pointed to the door, his gaze fixed on the man fiddling with pliers. His question hung in the air, a demand for answers cloaked in calm curiosity.

"The cellar," he replied quickly. "Maxan's trying to open the door. It's also the home of the Tansoan Cultural Society." He looked them over. "It was locked while members were in a private meeting. We felt flashes of energy and then your -" He paused, looking over at the woman who gave off the air of a court official. "friend arrived. We heard a scream and then this... well, you feel it, right?" He shook his head. "You can hardly use magic."

"Our mutual friend is a person of some importance and a prospective member of that club. She was headed into a meeting." Her very bearing bled immense waves of anxiety and one did not need magic to sense it. Two other yasoi women and an older man gave off a similar energy. "I insist that we be the ones to go down first."

Roslyn had been quiet for most of the time, then finally spoke. "Anyone has any lock picking skills? I can try, but not my expertise."

"Maxan is handling it," Shad replied firmly, and the woman's eyes flared. "Laera, you take over please."

"Apologies for being inconsiderate, but if you heard a scream... something bad might've happened. Someone might be hurt. " Roslyn stated, her voice calm and sincere.

"She's right! Her own people need to be there, and as soon as possible!"

"I have friends down there too, miss high and mighty!" Shad retorted, his voice starting to rise.

Esmii nodded, "Even if i cannot use magic. But I can still perform some amounts of healing and first aid. Let us go in first, we should be able to help this matter. without causing no trouble"
Evander stepped in, his voice rising to command attention without directing threat.
"I get it!"
Heads turned, the tension momentarily broken.
"You're both concerned, maybe scared of what might be happening. In the end, we all have an interest in what’s behind the door. No need to cut each other down." Evander's tone softened, a calming influence aimed at de-escalating the situation and cooling the heated atmosphere.
Evander pointed to the woman, Shad, and his companions in order as he stated their interests and tried mending the divide, "Her people are down there, your friends are down there, and Ersand'Enise's guests are down there. There is no need to be divided in ensuring that we get beyond the door as fast as possible rather than worrying about who gets there first."

The woman, no longer even bothering to hide it, leaned in and took Evander aside. "The Queen's reputation is to be considered at all costs." She started to draw back "It must be either us or you in there first."

Then, however... was it light at the end of the tunnel? Shad regarded Esmii. "You swear it?" he prodded shooting a wary glance at the queen's lady in waiting.

Roslyn inhaled and replied, "She can, I can confirm. She's saved me a few times when I got into a fight or two. I couldn't avoid it. "

Evander nodded to the woman and turned after catching Shad's question to Esmii, "It seems by Esmii's confession and Roslyn's anecdote. We swear it."

Esmii gave her a little smile with a nod. "From a family that owns a clinic back home, I'll do my best. "

"And you lot won't let these hoity-toity types pull something sneaky on us?" His eyes flicked among the group. "We have people down there too."

Kaureerah added that confirmation. "Waun lyfe ees woorth es mauch es eny auther: preencess oor pauper." She bowed her head. "Eye praumees."

Shad pursed his lips. "And can any of you get in there?"

Kaureerah nodded. "Eye heve saum skeells fraum... en earleer lyfe." She reached into her satchel and pulled out something that looked like a keyring but was not.

"Maxan, you've not even made any headway," Shad called with a sigh. "These White-Wallers will take it from here." He regarded Evander specifically. "I'm putting my trust in you."
With that, Kaureerah hurried up to the door and, hiding her method from the others, set to work. Roslyn kept the distractions back and she was able to focus on her work. The lady in waiting leaned in to Evander once more. "You four in and you say nothing to anyone but me about what you see in there." She flashed him an appreciative smile."I'm sure a man of your stature knows well the need for discretion my lord."

"Esmii should head down first, I'm going next. If I find the device, I can shut it down. Evander maybe you bring up the rear with Kaureerah. " Roslyn commented.

Then, all at once, there was a small clank and Kaureerah drew back. She nodded at the other three and tried the knob. It turned. The door opened, just a crack, and with a creak.

Evander nodded to Shad, "It's well placed," he acknowledged. Moments later, a lady’s soft command reached his ears, urging discretion.

"I will do what is right and consider your ask, the safety of the Queen is paramount."

Then he heard Roslyn give orders, who the in Dami does she think she is? he thought, irritation flaring. Ignoring her entirely, he waited for Kaureerah to complete her task. As soon as she was done, Evander stepped in first.

As Evander replied and moved forward, Roslyn rolled her eyes. She took note of his behaviour before she let Esmii go first then followed her down.

Esmii let out a small sigh as Evander walked passed, even with Evander in front she stood behind him, making herself the second to walk through the door.

The basement was dark but, even from here, they could see two of the bodies. They lay there, warm and stiff, in nearly-dried pools of their own blood. With every step, their magic faded until they could not feel it at all.

It was still and eerie and then there was a third shape, and a fourth and fifth: four men and a woman. Most seemed to have bled out through their orifices: a clearly magically-induced death, but one of the men had had his head bashed in and a second's neck, shoulder, and arm were broken.

That was when they saw an open door. It was a heavy thing, with bars and, a few feet away, there was a sixth, only... this one moved. A tall, slim yasoi woman with hair that appeared bright in the dimness. She sat there, slumped on the ground in a great puffy dress, in some sort of shock. "Ah," she said, partially shaking off her daze. "I wondered when they might send people." She did not move or try to rise. She merely twisted where she sat. She gestured shakily at the dead. "They were like that when I arrived," she remarked blankly.

Upon walking through the door, Esmii spotted the Yasoi in the puffy dress. She ran over to her. Sliding over to her. She checked her over for injuries. "Are you hurt? If you are let me know and I'll treat you."

Evander approached the slim yasoi woman and knelt down as Esmii tended to the physical care of the woman. He needed to confirm she was who he thought she was, she fit the description, but now the declaration, "are you Queen Hylaenii?"

Upon her obvious answer, Evander followed up, "what happened to you and how did you get here?"

The woman waved her off. "No," she protested. "No, I'm fine." She took a couple of deep tremulous breaths. "In body, anyhow." She glanced down at her lap and swallowed. "Them?" she asked. "They're all gone?" She bit her lower lip anxiously.

Roslyn could hear her blood hammering in her head with each step. Her eyes flickered across the darkness, trying her best to peer through it. She wished she had her arcane magic, but the field suffocated her mana. Upon reaching the bottom, her eyes widened at the scene. What in the hells happened... Roslyn stuffed that thought and emotion into the back of her mind. She sucked in her breath and held it. She then pushed deeper into the room to seek out the device.

Esmii looked back at the other bodies that were laid there. Her focus went back to the living Yasoi "Don't look at them." trying to get her to focus on the her rather than the bodies. "Can you walk, we are here to get you out of here." offering her hand out to her.

"Some queen, huh?" she snorted, "Just bursting with regal majesty." She nodded. "I'm Hylaenii of Mycormii." Still hazy, she gestured at the bodies. "They set me up." She grimaced. "I don't know who, but they set me up." She bit her first but, still, she did not move. "They fucking killed these people to set me up." Her eyes were wide and she pulled it back. "These were senior members of the Resistance Against Tarlon." Her eyes flicked through the corpses, aghast. "I was supposed to meet with them. We were supposed to coordinate." She licked her lips nervously and then shook her head tightly. "How unbecoming this all is. How utterly pathetic." She swallowed, composing herself, but still did not rise. "The device is in that small room." She gestured. "It's a lever. It gave me a shock along with... this whole scene. My knees -" She shook her head. "They just went."

Roslyn had already zeroed in on the small room and there was the lever, just as the queen had said. All that she needed to do was pull it, but it had given Hylaenii enough of a shock to stun her. The queen managed a small, tight smile for Esmii. "I... beg your indulgence. I'm unharmed in body, but I may need a moment longer."

Upon hearing the mention of shock, Roslyn's hand stopped. She moved and grabbed the nearest broom in hand. Ignoring the splotch of blood on the end, she aimed the handle then gave it a quick smack upward. Once the lever was up, she cautiously entered the room. The whole time, she kept the broom at the ready.

Esmii shook her head "My Queen, it is not your fault." trying to help raise her spirit. "None of this is your fault. You were only doing what was right for your people."

"Okay, do you know of anyone who would want to see you fail in your attempts to build relations here in Ersand'Enise?" Evander asked as he tried narrowing down who may have set her up.

"Ah, so you're Mycormiish." Hylaenii nodded. All at once, the haziness faded from her manas. She drew some magic and her dress billowed out as she rose awkwardly, seeming almost to float where she stood - unsteady. She breathed a couple of times, easily the tallest person in the room. "It isn't so much a question of fault as of perception." Spreading her arms out, she shook her head. "This looks bad: exactly how they wanted it." She twisted to face Evander. "If I had to guess, I would say either Oiyan or Tarlonese: a political rival or an invading force." She shrugged, eyes still roving uneasily over the corpses. "Clearly, they're ready to play dirtier than I am."

Roslyn had found only a small and empty room with thick stone walls, a bench, and an aperture in the wall that appeared to lead to what she guessed was the magic disruptor. Kaureerah, poking around the room, came upon one of the chairs, shifted back, and blood on the table with nobody nearby. A dagger lay there and, on the floor a couple of feet away, there was an apple soaked in still more blood.

Roslyn exhaled and rejoined the others as she fought back the vomit swelling in her throat. "The device is off, and we need to do something fast. They will be coming down here any moment if we don't return. "

"Yoor mejesty, yoo cen't bee seen here," Kaureerah suggested, turning to the queen. Her eyes flicked Evander's and Esmii's way too.

Evander could feel his mana returning, and he drew on his heat to spark a small flame, casting a flickering light around the room. The sight of the dead sent a chill through him; there was no way the Queen could leave through those doors upstairs without being implicated in the crime.

Hearing Roslyn and feeling Kaureerah's gaze, he addressed the Queen directly.

"Roslyn's right. You're Queen Hylaenii of Myocormii, a yasoi queen, I've learned temporal is a strong art among your people. Do you know how to use it?" His voice was steady and urgent, his eyes fixed on her with a mix of hope and determination. Deep down he could feel something off. What if she was lying?

Hylaenii's eyes darted his way and she pursed her lips. "These people." She gestured at the bodies. "They were good people. They deserve justice." Then, she pulled her attention back and she nodded. "I can leave. I suppose the idea is that you didn't find me?" Already, she was drawing.

Esmii looked uneasy, but she nodded. "We know it's not your fault," she assured the monarch. "We'll cover for you if you need."

Kaureerah crossed her arms. "Wee weell fynd whoo ees respaunseble," she assured Hylaenii, "end breeng them too jausteece."

"Yep. I might have something to help if we can find anyone linked to this. " Roslyn said, "Now go, quickly. We'll handle the rest."

"We didn't find you, and we will go back through those doors up there and show the owner what we found." Evander sighed, "There will be an investigation, but maybe their deaths will lead us to who set you up, and we can get the school behind us to quell the nerves of Mudville that will stir after learning about this."

Hylaenii nodded. "A sensible proposition," she breathed. "Thank you." She collected herself and the air swelled with temporal energies. Kaureerah began hustling up the stairs, quickly trying to ensure that she looked as shocked and dismayed as she had been a minute and a half ago. "I will disembark from my royal carriage in one hour's time at the Seagate," she told them. Then, she was gone.

Evander held the flame to await the rest to come down and witness the scene.

Roslyn tensed and then scratched at her elbow once the Queen teleported out of there. She felt oddly numb which surprised her. It wasn't the first she had witnessed of gore and death, but she didn't like this feeling. Did it mean she was becoming dead inside? Slowly she began to move to the side. Her eyes stared forward in silence. Like a woman in shock.

It was mere seconds before the door burst open and people flooded down the stairs, nearly bowling Kaureerah over. "My q-friend!" shouted the lady in waiting. "Where is she!?"

"By the Gods!" hollered Shad as he raced down after her. "What happened here!?" he demanded.

"Eye tryed too tell yoo," exclaimed Kaureerah, "we faund eet thees wey!

Evander's head was tilted down at the bodies as he examined to see if there was anything he missed and anything worth remembering. The flood of people came surging down without caution, only to be met with the putrid smell of the dead and the scene of multiple murders. The faces of desperation molded to each of the victims' faces as drying blood traced back to their last moments. When the people settled in the room, Evander gave them time to demand answers. It was only natural. When they gave room for an answer, Evander could only ask a question, "Are they anyone you know?"

"Where is she!?" the woman insisted, frantically checking the bodies. She paused for a moment over the lone female form, but it was not Hylaenii.

Shad staggered to the side and leaned upon a support pillar, struggling not to be sick and sparing only the occasional dazed glance at the corpses. "I..." He breathed heavily, lifting his blank gaze to meet Evander's and then Roslyn's. "I knew them all."

Evander's face looked heavy, and his tone lowered to express his condolences, " She isn't here, these poor souls were." He looked to Shad, who leaned on the support pillar, struggling to keep his gut inside his body. Evander walked over to Shad, placing his hand on Shad's shoulder for comfort, "I am sorry. This must hurt, do you know who'd want them dead?"

Roslyn let Evander take the lead, his presence easily taking their attention. For once she was grateful to melt into the background and not be an image of authority or importance. She didn't have to deal with this mess until things became hostile. Her eyes brushed Shad's gaze, but she said nothing. She didn't know what to say because it didn't change anything.

Shad gave Evander a long, hard look, but the human didn't crack. He nodded slowly, digesting it, and accepted the condolences. "Thank you. I... it was those fucking Tarlonese," he growled. There was a pause. "Or the Oiyans. They've always had a bone to pick with Mycormii." He shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh Gods, oh fuck. I don't know." He swallowed as if it were painful and slumped back against the pillar, looking away and trembling slightly.

Meanwhile, Hylaenii's lady in waiting was still looking for answers. "She was supposed to be here!" she hollered. "I... I'm glad she wasn't." She shot a guilty glance in the direction of Shad, Maxan, and the other locals. "But then where is she!? Gods..." She, too, swallowed and shook her head.

"Eet took aus e leettle whyle too caumpoose aurselves efter..." Kaureerah offered, gesturing at the grisly scene.

"And to find the magic disruptor." Esmii nodded a thanks in Roslyn's direction. "They were... already lost when we arrived." She hugged herself and grimaced.

"Baut there waus noo sygn auf yoor frend eef thet's naut her," the eeaiko confirmed, pointing at the lone dead woman with a shake of her head. "Eye'm saurry." She shot Roslyn a quick look when no eyes were upon her for a moment.

Roslyn stepped toward the stairs leading up then paused and spoke to the lady in waiting. Her eyes directly made contact with the yasoi then darted to the door. "Can you help me up the stairs? I'm feeling a bit dizzy and not sure I won't fall down. I can't... stand the sight of blood."

The Lady's eyes snapped to Roslyn and, for a moment, something evaluative flashed through them. they darted about one final time and then, with a businesslike nod, she hustled forward and took the youth by the arm. "Yes," she replied after the brief delay. "Yes, of course." Quickly, she led them up the stairs.

Roslyn led her outside the bar and out of ear shot. Once out of sight, the girl straightened herself up and swallowed down the twisting feelings in her gut. "We found the Queen. She is all right and she teleported out of there. She will be meeting us back at the gate in an hour. "

"Oh thank Damy!" the lady exclaimed. "Thank Vyshta! Thank you!" Unbidden and unladylike, she surged in and hugged Roslyn, lifting the smaller woman off of her feet momentarily. "I could kiss you, little yanii girl," she laughed, before letting go and composing herself somewhat. "Do you know, I haven't even bothered to introduce myself. How utterly remiss of me if I do say so myself!" She held out a hand.
"Seliin'thiilan'dentoiya," she chirped, "Baroness of Mysora and both childhood friend and first lady in waiting to her majesty Hylaenii of Mycormii."

Roslyn bit back a squeak as she was lifted up, her feet left dangling in the air. Once she was placed back down on the ground, a small smile brushed her lips. She took the offered hand politely then introduced herself. "Roslyn Wicke of Hendland. It's nice to meet you and I wish it was under better circumstances."

Evander listened to the coinciding accusations of the Queen and Shad. The Tarlonese or the Oiyans. As everyone began making their way back upstairs. Evander followed Shad asking to see if there was a lead to those who plotted this mess, "if one were to look for either, where would they start here in this town?"

Evander and Kaureerah, meanwhile, found themselves wrapping up matters inside with regretful looks, condolences, and a need to lie to cover up a truth that they assumed wasn't ruinous but might've been. Shad didn't have very much for him. The Oiyans were everywhere and most were good folk, but there was a political element as well, and the king of that place - a bloody upjumped dictator - was ever inserting his agents abroad and seeking advantage over rival Mycormii. The Tarlonese hid among the yasoi population as well, but most could be found within the walls of the school itself. There had been stories of an Apple Seller in town and he'd built up quite a following. Sometimes, he preached under the branched of the great yew tree at the very southern edge of the town.

With that in hand, Evander and Kaureerah were soon on their way up and, before long, were meeting with Roslyn and Seliin. They had about half an hour remaining to make it back to the school, compose themselves, and be waiting for her majesty's arrival.

What more was there to do aside from reconnoitering and walking back? The sun had now dipped below the city walls and shadows had pooled to become dusk. Crickets chirped, moths circled lanterns, and Evander must've swatted at least three mosquitoes. On their way, however, it was hard to miss the crowds flocking towards one particular area.

At the center of it was the tall slim figure of the queen, her great flaring dress making a bell out of her as she walked, unescorted among the people of Belleville. She laughed with them. She picked up and spun a child in the air. She conjured simple food with the power of her blood magic. She strode towards the gate - floating with her big dress almost ethereally, but so very much a part of the people, or so it would've appeared.

The queen arrived, much to the relief of Ersand'Enise's Zenos, precisely behind schedule as she had informed her escort. Lady Seliin was waiting there along with her other ladies and Head notary Siimon, looking none the worse for wear. With a girlish giggle of delight and a polite, "Many thanks," she took Evander's outstretched hand and alighted from the carriage, floating gently down to the ground from its steps as her attendants took her bags inside the large and opulently-appointed townhouse where she would be staying. For the students, the only acknowledgment was a small nod and a smile of thanks their way. Two more days of adventure awaited, thanks to their efforts. Only the gods knew if Hylaenii's great gamble would pay off or not.

It is during the 'dog days' of Dorrad when a young queen comes to visit Ersand'Enise. She is Hylaneii'doren'ismax, newly-ascended monarch of Mycormii. The yasoi nation, once a major player in international politics, has all-but disappeared from the world stage for the better part of a century. Now, with the twin continents standing before a precipice, she arrives at the gates of the largest neutral player for a whirlwind four day visit in the hopes of... well, it isn't exactly clear. Intrigue follows her right from the start and it now falls to her royal honour guard - students chosen from the academy and near-peers with her in age - to get to the bottom of the mystery and protect the Queen from danger!

---

T W O : D E S ' Y R

T W O : D E S ' Y R

"Oh but Siimond, I've hardly even had a proper beauty sleep!" yawned Hylaenii, stretching laguidly where she lay. "How can one honestly expect me to be beautiful and charm these people?" She smiled puckishly and shot him a tired wink, wavy red hair a tousled mess among her puffy white sheets.

"Correspondence waits for no one, I'm afraid, your royal highness."

Hylaenii lay back, staring at the canopy of her bed. "It is ever so soft here, dear Siimond, and blessedly trouble free." She took in the swirling needlework, losing herself in their abstract patterns for a moment. "Unlike that ghastly business yesterday." She pushed herself up on her elbows, stifling a yawn.

"It was a terrible matter."

She flopped back down, gathering her gumption and puffing out her cheeks as she blew a raspberry. "But the day's business waits for nobody," she sighed, pushing herself back up in earnest this time. "Right, Siimond?"

"Right you are, my queen."

She nodded and took a deep breath, big turquoise eyes darting about the room with the curiosity of the young. "On with it then." She looked him the eyes and smiled and the old man bowed, despite his age and sizable paunch. "And out with you, you old pest," she teased. "Shoo shoo! You know I hate when people watch me flop out of bed in the morning."

"You are the very picture of poise and feminine grace, your royal highness." Was there a slight smirk creasing the old man's lips?

"Mm, yes. Like a dying fish on a dock," she grumbled. "Now, be gone with you and fetch Lady Seliin to help me dress, would you be so kind?" She inclined her head fondly and made a little shooing gesture. Siimond backed away, still bowing. "Oh Siimond," she groaned, starting to peel away her covers. "You're going to throw out your back."

"All in service of the crown, your royal highness."

She cracked up, just a little. Then, just as he was about to exit, she perked up. "Oh, and do have my morning newsletter sent to me! I shall take it as I bathe." She rolled her neck and reached down to extricate her feet from the tangled bedsheets. Then, Siimond was gone. Moments later, Ladies Seliin, Tyrel, and Sanette bustled into the room, all good cheer and cheeky smiles. Perhaps yesterday's horrible incident had made them a bit more appreciative of each other than usual. They bustled in and went to their queen, and her day began.

It was half past three Shune - a rather indulgent hour for a head of state, but who could truly blame Hylaenii after what she had been through the evening before - not that it was common knowledge.

She sat there in the sun room, taking her breakfast of chocolate-drizzled waffles with fresh strawberries, caramelized mango slices, and whipped cream with curlers in her hair and her morning avviso in her free hand. Already, she was in her customary grand dress, but there was not so very much else of formality - aside from the three servants attending to her every need, the maid seeing to her hair, and the other holding up a mirror. Finishing a particularly indulgent bite, Hylaenii regarded herself sourly in it. "I look like a Zag'siloang when I chew."

"Oh stop your bellyaching," taunted Lady Seliin. "I'd kill for cheeks like yours."

"Well, that can be arranged if you like," Hylaenii laughed, pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth.

Two of her ladies chuckled. "And my hair?" she prodded, as the last of the curlers were removed and the fine work was underway.

"A vision, my queen." Siimond swept into the room from a pair of double doors, and she twisted his way. "Are they here?" she inquired, perking up but not quite rising.

"Most certainly, majesty."

"Ah," the queen chirped. "Good." She grimaced in guilt. "Dare I say I've kept them waiting a bit long, Seliin, but..." She trailed off and furrowed her brow. "After last night, I think we all needed a bit of extra rest, no?"

"Just so, majesty," agreed Lady Seliin, "and all the more incentive to impress them."

Hylaenii took a deep breath and dabbed at her mouth with a serviette. "Yes, I suppose." She put on a smile, and it was not that hard. While she was nervous, she could not deny that she was also excited.

"Shall I show them in, then?" As Siimond spoke, three more servants entered carrying platters of the finest breakfast offerings one could possibly imagine, as well as the notorious 'Full Enthish' for one of their guests. Hylaenii straightened and nodded. "Yes, Siimond." She breathed again, the corset more comforting than punishing. "Many thanks."

Those great white double doors opened and there were her three escorts for the day: the famous performer Leon Solaire; the dashing Enthish adventurer Desmond Catulus; and her fellow young monarch, the Duchess Dorothea Hohnstein von Albesatz-Danzau.

Leon had heard about the events of the previous night from another's account. They would need to keep an eye out and no doubt the young queen would be shaken from what she had seen. But that hardly mattered for now, what the queen needed was excitement and joy to get her mind off things. Leon decided to set the tone immediately: today he was Leon Solaire, the performer who knew nothing about a room of bodies and was simply there to entertain the monarch.

Leon entered with confidence, smile wide and head held high. His walking was light on his toes as if he were to twirl in dance at any moment. When he bowed, it was exaggerated and whimsical. When he took his seat, it was done show with a flourish, falling into his seat gracefully.

"Good morning your highness." Leon smiled brightly and assessed the lightest of the three offered breakfasts. "I assume the late hour means you smartly left time for some beauty sleep?" He rose a hand as if to share a secret. "I may have been inclined to do the same."
The queen held out a hand for him to kiss it and batted her lashes. "Oh you've pegged me for just the sort of monster I am, Leon Solaire." She took a strawberry in one bite and winked. "One must be well-rested if one is to maintain that particular glow." She regarded him fondly. "You strike me as one well acquainted with such." She stabbed a mango and bit into it, the juices wetting her lips, eyes sparkling with mischief. They went, presently, to the other two with a healthy dose of curiosity.

The blue dress popped out from the woman who was known for wearing rather muted colors. Dorothea scanned the room before she bowed gracefully, she was technically her better. Just go with the flow, Dory.

”I do hope you managed to sleep well, your majesty.” Dory’s head was lifted upwards before she stood up. Her eyes scanned the more. . . heavy breakfasts but tried to disregard them, seeing as it wouldn’t be too ladylike.

Then seeing the interaction with Leon made her let out a sigh of relief. ”It is good to see you in high spirits.”

Desmond had taken much care with his new outfit. It was something he didn't expect within his lifetime to have bought. Yet he thought if it was to be anytime, he would have bought it for now.

The new outfit was well fitted, having the latest and most gorgeous fabrics he could have found. With multiple different gorgeous gems and jewels of adventures he has been on as pieces to talk about if dull times come.

Desmond made one last adjustment of himself, checking over himself and his outfit before he checked the others. He made sure they were well as he used a little quick magic to make sure they looked their best.

Desmond made his pressence known with a smile as he bowed, placing his hand over his heart, "Good morning your highness".

Desmond chuckled to her response to Leon as he said, "I wouldn't expect someone of your beauty to need such a thing. Especially with your lively spirit".

"Lady Hohnstein." Queen Hylaenii squeezed her hands with a dainty fondness. "One wakes up every morning with a choice, I believe." She leaned in conspiratorially, fork in one hand and knife in the other. "I find indulging in a hearty breakfast tends to help, and a touch of spratz makes it that much better." She smiled. "Let's not stand on ceremony," she advised. "Take what you like and the rest goes to the servants. they work so very hard after all and deserve some of the fruits of their labour."

Leon was no stranger to royalty and was glad his introduction worked. After all, what royal wanted the normal pleasantries when meeting a famed performer? Such occasions were meant for difference of the routine. He kissed her hand. "Well acquainted with glowing, among other talents that are sure to amaze today. It should be quite the day ahead." He turned and attented to his meal.

"Ooh you," the queen remarked. "I had heard you were bold and dangerous, sir." She leaned back in her seat, smirking at him. "A pleasure, Mr. Catulus. Now..." She trailed off for a moment and her eyes flicked to a tray. She reached out a hand and a servant duly placed it there. "Do you live up to the legends?" she inquired with a hint of a giggle as the Full Enthish was set down in front of him.

Hylaenii perked up. "Ah, yes!" she chirped. "My grand tour."

Lady Seliin leaned in, posting her chin on her hands and smiling softly. "Indeed! Her grand tour."

"Mm, yes. I have heard Ersand'Enise is full of many... pleasurable sights." She took a sip of her morning tea. "Do tell: what is on the agenda?"

Desmond laughed as he rose, "If I wasn't then who would I be?"

Desmond chuckled some more as he said, "Who would have known you would have served me such a dish. It must be a sign of the excitment to come of the day!"

"Oh please. I am but a student here, so you may just call me Dory if you like." Duchess Dorothea smiled warmly, nodding to the Queen's words. "Then I'll take one of hearty breakfasts if you won't mind." She approached the food before leaning back to look at the lady. "But it so nice to talk to someone at least close to my age." Her expression turned a little bored, followed by a heavy sigh. "The Lady in Kerremand can be such a sourplum at times. . . Especially the last meeting."

"Oh, by the end of it I shall very much expect you to have slain at least one dragon for me, Mister Catulus." She smiled from behind her teacup, eyes sparkling.

"but in seriousness, I have always been fascinated by men who make their own way in life." She glanced over at Lady Dorothea. "So very different from the sorts we often deal with." She took a bite of waffle and all-but swallowed it, though demurely, of course. "Do tell me, if you might be so kind: what would you mark as your proudest achievement to date?"
Hylaenii batted her lashes, considering for a moment. Then, her cheeks puffed and she cracked up. "Oh, you're frightfully right, though!" she exclaimed. "Every state visit with her is all ruthless Kerreman efficiency, except when I'm forced to laugh at her jokes." She took a quick and overenthusiastic sip of her tea, eager to continue. "Why, I was thinking of employing a tickler just to make sure that I would laugh appropriately." She reached down and gathered two handfuls of her enormous dress. "This device is big enough to house a small person or two, is it not?"

Leon finished a mouthful of mango delicately before looking back to the Queen. "And ruin the surprise?" He said with faux shock. "I wouldn't dare to do such a thing."

"I'll run the agenda past your ladies-in-waiting. Wouldn't want anything too untoward to occur." He said with a cheeky wink. The Queen seemed rather interested in Desmond, it would work in their favour. Leon excused himself from the table and took toward the other ladies.

"You wound me, sir," the queen pouted, pressing a hand to her heart, but it was all in good fun. If King Ollie was the 'Jolly' then, surely, she could give him a run for his money. "Mangia mangia, then, as you Revidians say, no?"

Leon found ladies Seliin, Tyrel, and Sanette at the other table, along with the royal notary, Siimond. They had leaned in to the royal conversation here and there but, by and large, aside from some healthy chatter, they ate in a far quicker and more businesslike manner.

"Ah, Madame Solaire," teased Lady Seliin, and the others stifled their laughter and glanced his way as well, bowing their heads respectfully and lingering a little too long on his form. Siimond arched an eyebrow tiredly.

"In the flesh," Leon smiled and performed a curtsy in reply for the ladies. If they wished to hurt his ego with such a comment, it would have no effect, he didn't mind. He took a seat soon after.

"Shall I run you by the agenda? Wouldn't want ladies-in-waiting to be ladies-in-worry."

Dory lit up. "So I am not the only one who feels forced to laugh at those. . . well, I guess some people can consider them jokes." She then looked as if she was taking mentally taking notes. "Oh, but you shouldn't do such a thing. She seems like the person who would take real offense to it." Then a little wink came from her. "Though it is quite a good idea, perhaps we could find a good illusionist tickler to sneak in on state visits."

The duchess leaned forward to inspect the dress, before grabbing a handfull of her own. "You're in luck, I'd have to look for a very skinny Hegelan to fit under there."

Desmond took a moment to think, "I would love to tell you over the meal".

Desmond began to sit as he spoke, "I believe among all of my achievements. From the slaying of some of the greatest dragons and fiends, finding lost treasures and countless fortunes that may never be seen again, and facing some of the greatest mages the world has ever seen to fight for what I believe is right. My most proud achievement is when I helped with the liberation of An Zenui".

Desmond took a bite of his food and swallowed before he continued, "I made a great friend there and helped him liberate his people from the oppressors of his city. I fought mages who pulled upon powers beyond this world. They fought with demons who performed every command. Helped countless people find some freedom and hope from absolute uncertainty and fought some of the greatest threats I think could have been seen from the dangers of the world and beyond".

Desmond then winked as he smiled to the queen, "And yet, I think this might rival that".

They giggled - all three of them - and nodded, almost in sync with each other. "We're ever so eager to know what you have planned for us, Leon," said Lady Sanette.

"Yes, do tell," said Lady Seliin, leaning in.

Lady Tyrel, in the middle of chewing, nodded eagerly and smiled, nearly choking in the process. She had to wash her food down with some tea. All, however, listened eagerly.

"Haven't you heard that true ladies of culture use a Cherune?" The queen flashed a wicked smile and returned to eating vigorously, for she was nearly finished, and seemed rather ready for a busy day out. "I think we shall be very good friends, Lady Dorothea. Very good indeed. It will be nice to have someone to commiserate with." With that, she finished the last of her waffles and set down her silverware, grimacing momentarily and placing a hand over her stomach.

Queen Hylaenii leaned in, rapt in wonderment at Desmond's tales. "I have always wanted a man like you, Desmond," she cooed, but there was something mischievous in her eyes. She pursed her lips. "A kooky uncle to tell war stories around the dinner table!" She grinned wickedly, but held up a hand. "Earnestly, though, I say that is a worthy achievement. I am most proud of that wherein I was more than some girl in a frilly dress, doing abstract good on the scale of states as expected. Those times when I could see, with mine own eyes, the good that I did in people's lives, remain my proudest ones." She sighed, dabbing at her lips with her serviette. She grimaced and patted her stomach. "Now, we shall find out what further conquests you might make in a rather short time. I shall meet you and yours in the foyer in - say... ten minutes?"

There was a small surge of magic, Desmond noticed, and Queen Hylaenii rose, a tall shapely form surmounting a great bell-shaped dress. She hurried off through the double doors, all-but gliding across the floor. The three students finished their breakfast and discussed their plans amongst themselves and the ladies in waiting. They were led out for the day ahead and down the stairs. It was naught but three minutes later that the queen arrived. Outside, waited three porters with large bags and crates - to carry all of her necessities, the students were informed. "So," she chirped, clapping her hands together, businesslike. "Where to first?"

Desmond lightly bowed as he gestured for the queen, "We shall be heading to see the Silk Gate and Crafters District. Some of the greatest beauty made by those within the city".

Desmond nodded to the others as they began to walk. He had already instructed Guy to perform the duties needed, as they had to make sure that things ran smoothly.

They would first head to the Silk gate to see the wonder of it. It's grand size was something to behold with both its monumental scale and elegant beauty, as Desmond states, "This is the center of the trading hub of Ersand'Ernise!"

Hylaenii twirled on the spot, looking very much like the tourist that she was. "Oh it's just wondrous!" she declared, fluttering from one shoppe to the next and halting in front of the enormous swirling portal. "And it connects to how many places again?" she inquired, twisting to face her escort, but Siimond, all-but hobbling, was faster. "Thirteen, majesty, and counting."

"We should have one of these in Crismosa, Siimond, don't you think?"

"I imagine it can be done, my queen, though it might take some time."

"Nonsense, you old codger," she replied, biting into a tangerine, peel and all. "I've seen you get twice as much done in half the time. Hmph!" She spun on her heel. "I would like us to be number fourteen." She smiled at the others. "What better way to open gateways between us than to do so literally?"

She fluttered about for the next little while, asking questions and paying exorbitant prices for trinkets, and then she was both satisfied and exhausted. "Oh, I know I'm paying the tourist price," she laughed, sitting on a comfortable chair one of her porters had assembled in ten seconds flat. "That's why I pick the poorest-looking vendors." She shrugged. "At least my money is going to a good cause. Anyhow..." There was a flutter of magic as she rose. "On to the next one?"

Leon was the next to lead the tour toward the northern waterways. He simply couldn't wait for what was coming up. He took to the front of the group with a spin, and a heel pivot, and a heel pivot. Bringing theatrics to the regular and mundane were among Leon's many specialties. "Follow me to the waterways. Our gentle ride awaits."

Hylaenii's eyes took in the city, wide and wondering, and she smiled at Leon, reaching forward to take his hand. "Pull me along in your wake, sir!" she giggled, as Ladies Tyrel and Sanette crowded about Dory and Lady Seliin prodded Desmond about his favourite things. It was not long before they had arrived, the long-suffering Siimond bringing up the rear.

"Perhaps I could help vouch for a portal placement as a fellow neutral state." Even if she'd rather have it in her own state. . . Mycormi isn't too far away.

Dory then shook her head a little. "But those are things to discuss another time, for now it is time to enjoy ourselves."

She grabbed the oar and stared at Leon which conveyed her displeasure at the task she was given.

"But of course, your highness." He replied somewhat tongue and cheek as he took her hand and guided her gracefully toward the gondola. He made a show of helping her onto the boat, such an unwieldly dress dare not get wet after all.

Leon lay up on the seat at the front of the gondola and made a show of tuning his lute. Of course, there was no need for tuning because he had been rather meticulous about it before they arrived. But it was a good primer to prepare the audience for a performance and tuning notes that already sound perfect was a good indication of what was to come.

"Those are things for boardrooms and fancy dinners and old men." She stuck her tongue out playfully at Siimond before they got into their separate gondolas. "I'd be lost without you, Leon." Indeed, Hylaenii seemed to struggle with the unwieldy garment and her balance in a confined area. "Some queen of a maritime nation I am," she joked with a grimace. Then, however, she was inside the boat and they started moving. Leon started playing and it was... well, it reminded her of home as it was in those stories of years past, when her esteemed ancestors had ruled. It was, in short, marvelous!

Desmond began to help the women into the boat. Taking a moment to make sure each of them were situated, before he takes a seat upon the gondola. He found himself placed next to Queen Hylaenii.

He gave a nod to Leon as he began to perform magic. A magic to create a small light gust of wind to set the mood. A mood of wonder, as there was few wonders greater than the city of bells, and Desmond wanted to capture that in this moment.

Leon smiled at Desmond and his eyes flashed a little. In that moment, he felt as if his mind was linked with the man he had barely seen before.

Hylaenii glanced up and back at Dory, who was working the oar, and smiled. "Who knew a duchess could row like that," she complimented. "Truly maritime." Playfully, she flexed her biceps and it was... surprisingly impressive.

Then, she leaned on Desmond for support, and then over the gondola's edge, and then under his arm, but she never tuck with one for long, for such was the boundlessly curious nature of yasoi. How many questions she had! "So, now that Siimond isn't here, tell me: what would you say is the funnest place in this city?" she asked.

Leon's playing fit the mood with gentle and calm melodies to accompany the slow and unrushed ride. When he sung, it was into the air and quiet enough to allow conversation between the two sat next to each other. The lyrics spoke of love, love for the beautiful vistas we seen on our journeys and love for the beautiful people you pass along the way.

Desmond chuckled, "Well, you're about to see".

"Well, I wouldn't be a true maritime lady if I couldn't at least do this, right?" She winked. Her eyes widened as the other flexed before cracking up. "I see you aren't a slouch either."

Dory rowed slowly, it was a time to relax and take in the sights after all. If his sunny, Revidian ass doesn't pay me back for this. I'll spill some tea and make his fanclub go feral. . .

He looked at Dory and winked in thanks for her efforts, failing to detect the Feskan's murderous intent.

"Oh, I keep these arms plenty busy," Hylaenii replied to Dory with a snorted laugh and they settled into an easy silence for a bit longer.

"Tease!" she rolled her eyes and punched Desmond on the shoulder. She continued to look about, asking one question after another: what were those large blue birds there? Did anyone actually use these gondolas or were they just for tourists? What was that song Leon was playing? How deep were these canals? When had they been built? Why was the Violet Enclave forbidden to students? What was that scent Leon was using? Where was Blackfield Arsenal? She'd heard of it. She laid a hand on her midsection and rubbed it and there was a small push of magic. She smiled and continued to ask and to listen.

All Dory gave back was a smile that nearly felt like a sibling's snide smirk that spelled out 'You're gonna get it later'

Leon smiled back at her warmly. He didn't know what was coming for him.

Desmond began to answer her questions, satiating the wonder of this woman as if she is viewing a world unknown. He enjoyed her curiosity as he was able to answer these questions.

He saw she had to comfort her stomach twice. The first time we when she had finished eating. Yet a second time now with magic, there must be something happening.

When the gondola finally reached Dami's Cross, he looked back toward the island and gestured toward a lone performer set up there. It was a shame that Kaureerah was not able to perform for the Queen during her arrival, so what better time than now for her to join a duet and get a solo of her own. A surprise performer's entrance was sure to fill the Queen with surprise and whimsical delight. From Leon's expression, it was easy to tell that this was the twist he was so excited for. He looked to Kaureerah and gave her a wink in thanks.

Like clockwork, all according to my excellently laid plan. A flash back from earlier that morning came to him where he nodded to a hidden Kaureerah just before they were let into the Queen's accommodations, who proceeded to rush off to Dami's Cross to set up.

Hylaenii reached over and squeezed Desmond's shoulder as she noticed him glancing at her stomach. "Well, I can promise you I'm not pregnant," she joked, "If that was your worry." There was a wide bright smile. "I do believe I may have indulged a little too much at the breakfast table this morning. We don't often get treats like this back in Mycormii."

The gondola continued onwards and there was the isle at the center of Dami's Cross, complete with its monuments, its carefully manicured parkette, and... Kaureerah.

"Red is the color of passion they say.
Purple's the color of love.
Blue is the color of a rainy day.
White feathers adorn the dove.

But there's only one color that's right for me
And you've just got to know that it's true.
That color, I say, is the one that you see
in the mirror. That color is you!"

Kaureerah strummed her lute and twirled about and Hylaenii both blushed and clapped. "Did you three set this up just for lil' old me?"

The gondola made a complete circle around Kaureerah as she performed, and she seemed ever present, inclining her head to the queen as her song continued, from cheeky to sweet, and back again, bordering on the romantic but never quite suggesting too much.

A song about colors was made for Leon to accompany. He played the backup lute and vocals to compliment the Eeaiko's lead act. He also gave an understated light show to accompany the lyrics, it wasnt part of the plan but he couldn't help himself.

Desmond chuckled, "No your highness, I would never think of such a thing. I was just worried you might have snuck a bit of my meal while I wasn't looking as well with how much you ate".

Desmond allowed the gondola ride to be mostly quiet to allow Kaureerah to perform to her utmost ability while he made sure Guy was nearly prepared.

Once the Gondola ride passed Dami's Cross and then to near the Forked Tower. Here Desmond began to help both the queen and her ladies in waiting out of the boats before they began to make their way to the hedge maze.

He made light conversation, commenting on the music played and the view as they walked, trying to fill the time with the grand size of the cathedral and the views of the Violet Enclave.

"Hollow legs!" she japed, patting her lap. "Or, you know, maybe I'm just a glutton and I don't know it!" She tapped her pointer against her lower lip and tilted her head playfully before breaking out in a grin. "That would explain a lot, actually."

Then, before long, they were disembarking, and the queen seemed to lean heavily on Desmond as she clambered ashore. Ladies Sanette, Tyrel, and Seliin were next, and the group found a large coach waiting for them. The horses continued at a light trot as Desmond pointed out one sight after another. "Did you know that the Forked Tower was originally built by yasoi?" Hylaenii asked at one point. "Not that we did a very good job of managing it." She had thoughts on the five churches as well, and the absence of a sixth.

In the grand scheme, however, it wasn't long before they found themselves at the city's famous - or infamous hedge maze and the queen hopped eagerly out, landing featherlike on the ground. Siimond, Leon, Dory, and the three ladies promptly followed.

Upon reaching the hedge maze, Desmond began looking among the group to see the overall energy. Desmond made his way to the entrance as he said, "Welcome to Ersand'Ernise hedge maze, the entrance to the famous Evertree". He began to lightly bow and gestured to the entrance of the maze to allow the queen to enter first.

The queen was game, gliding across the well-manicure grass to the maze's entrance with a bit of a bounce to her step. For a moment, she appeared to have snagged a shoe on something, but she quickly continued with a smile and a self-deprecating shake of her head. "You know," Hylaenii declared, twisting about with a growing grin, "I think this would be the perfect opportunity for a race!" She waved the ladies and long-suffering Siimond forward eagerly, and her eyes flashed a challenging look at Desmond, Leon, and Dory.

Desmond took notice of her great and excited step and bounce. Yet her shoe snagging on the ground wasn't quite right, the ground here is quite well maintained and groomed, he'd give the ground a quick glance before continuing on. Desmond needed to check to make sure there are no traps. If there was any point for traps, it'd be here.

Someone leaking their plans could be a possibility as they did need to get this whole tour passed by the Zenos. One of them could be bought out and be connected to what happened the day prior.

Once they make it to the entrance and the queen posses her thought, a smile grew on Desmond's face, "Your highness, is that a challenge?"

"I supposed that is a challenge, Desmond." Leon replied with a smile and wink. "Shall I supposed we make this a race of pairs? Myself and Dorothea against you and her highness. I'm sure the element of cooperation should make this race truly exciting."

All according to plan. Leon and Dory shooting off ahead should scout for hidden dangers, while giving Desmond and the queen some... alone time.

Dory matched Leon's pace yet couldn't help but snicker after a while, casting a small sonic bubble between the two. "That should give those two some alone time, no?" She hit the other on the back playfully. "Now it's all Desmond"

Precisely two people took the race seriously. Hylaenii rocketed off the start line, not even bothering to keep her feet on the ground. "Do keep up, Desmond!" she laughed. "There's no rule that says you have to run!" For his part, he caught up before long, darting and dodging through the maze, and even edged ahead of her.

The others, meanwhile, took off at a... surprisingly relaxed pace, for the maze was long, after all, and this would be a marathon, not a sprint. It was a brisk walk, at least.

The bushes were tall and energy dense, with a variety of exotic flowers such as sucking rose, kissy-lips, hanging tulip, and bubblebell. Venus flytraps snatched insects from the air and a spraybloom made the queen flinch as it released an aromatic puff into her face. Birds tittered and chirped, hummingbirds flitted from flower to flower, and a dozen different insects seemed to be visible at any given moment. There were even raspberries and ornamental pears. This was a place for Ipté, truly.

Some got to enjoy it. Others didn't. Still others became lost in it.

Desmond started off at a full run, chasing after queen Hylaenii as he called out, "Don't get your hopes up your majesty!"

His outfit was tailored and suited to what he needed. One part, was the ability to fight in it without too much restriction. The second, is to be able to run. He changed from his run to beginning to slide. His feet was mere centimeters off the ground as he began to gain more and more speed. Every now and again he'd push on the ground or pull onto the hedge walls to make himself faster.

The moment he came next to queen Hylaenii he checked the queen once more for chemical changes incase the spraybloom that puffed at her had anything within it. Then he leaned in with a smile as he said, "Are you enjoying yourself?" Desmond gave a somewhat cheeky smile as he continued to race along side her.

Almost directly after that race began, Leon slapped his forehead. "Oh dear Dory, it seems I have forgotten to tie my laces. Would you wait for me to tie them before you shoot off so soon?" His acting was perfection, if someone where well into a night of drinking that is. The performer bent down and inspected his well-tied shoes.

The Feskan tried her best to adapt to his acting with acting of her own. "Of course I would wait for you. We're a team, are we not? It would be an awful shame if I beat them on my own." She overplayed her part just a little.

Once the queen and Desmond had shot off ahead, Leon rose and entered the maze with Dory.

When the pair stumbled upon the sprayblooms, Leon simply raised his arms, took a twirl, and kindly accepted the added fragrance. This was not a new place to him. During his first year, when all the students were still getting their bearings, he must have taken at least five different girls through this place as a 'magical new discovery' he had just stumbled upon.

He looked back to Dory with a cheeky smile. "What? You should do the same. It certainly beats Das Krokodil for fragrance."

Whilst Leon showed a elegant twirl, Dory did the opposite. She did not realize that proper shoes meant for the ball weren't the best for running and soon she would swing her arms around to catch her balance. "Schei-" Nearly hitting the hedge, yet it was enough to activate the spray which dosed her point blank. "-Sse. . ."

After she finally caught herself she would be completely covered in the fragrance. A look was shot Leon's way before she pointed at her shoes. "If there wasn't a big ball coming up soon I would've just ran around barefoot. . ."

"But I always smell good. . . Most of the time at least."

"Only if I win!" the queen teased, dashing ahead. She twisted on the spot, her steps still light and almost gliding despite her clear excitement. "And no following me by scent. Ypti knows I smell like an entire meadow! She pulled her collar close and sniffed it, flashing Desmond a grin. Then, she continued running.

Desmond continued to push and glide along the ground as he even began to seem like he was flying. He began to slip along the ground, he began to catch up again as he then reached the queen, "Well, you're speaking to one of the fastest men alive, you can only win if the gods ordained it".

The moment Desmond slipped by her, he gave a slight sniff, "You do smell quite good. Almost as good as you look".

Desmond gave a smile and turned fully to look at the Queen. His feet completely gliding, the magic within him was small and minute, while the energy around him seemed stagnant. It was as if the world did not recognize his existance. The very weight of gravity the world would set upon others that would be imposed upon him seemed all but gone.

He gave a single wink as he then slanted, his movement began to seem incredibly unnaturally.

Hylaenii stopped dead in her tracks. "That magic you're using..." She regarded Desmond, brow furrowed and expression intense. "What is it?"

Desmond began to slow, he turned and regarded the queen. His body began to slowly shift and sway in place like he was floating in water. He spoke nonchalantly, "Unsure. Just some good ol' magic".

Desmond then smirked and shrugged as he began to lean back and move again, "But who knows? You might get to know about some other stories if you can catch me". His very expression never changed, he wore his smile proudly. The intensity of the queen was something heavy, yet for a man like Desmond, it was as light as a feather. He gave a light wink to the queen.

And then, Desmond performed magic, he aimed to make himself dissappear. To shift the queen's conscious to subjectively find his pressence similar to that of like white noise. A background entity that you could not pick out among the countless others within it. As he aimed to become something similar to a blind spot, he whispered, "No temporal magic~".

Hylaenii floated to the ground, then, sitting there on the grass, and reached out her senses. She knew he was there and, yet, she did not. She had been handed a complete dossier on every member of her escort. She'd approved them herself. Desmond was... a magusjaeger with a RAS of five. She blinked and she smiled wonderingly. "Old magic," she whispered.

Desmond allowed his voice to appear for a moment, "You won't catch me by just thinking!"

Desmond chuckled as he then began to use his skills with magic to throw his voice around and still hide his pressence, "Maybe chasing might help".

A light chuckle began to form, "I'll give you a hint, I'm here!".

A laugh began to resound. His voice appeared once more, now in multiple areas, "Just look around!"

It was clear, every now and again when he allowed his voice for just a moment be known. He was allowing his pressence to appear for a few moments to give the queen a chance.

This was not a magic that she knew and, despite his playful tone, it unnerved her to the point that curiosity began to evaporate and caution quickly take over. She couldn't sense him and someone with such a low capacity couldn't possibly be overpowering her. She stretched her senses out further and ever further. He could not be hiding somewhere else and projecting his voice by sonically displacing it either, for her range was longer than his. So, instead, the queen began to draw, and draw, and draw. "If I make you hurl, Desmond, will it count as sighting you?"

In short, he managed not to and she continued to search, increasingly unnerved. "Well, now that I've drawn all of this energy..." She unleashed it over a hundred yard area, being careful not to crush the hedges, or him... much.

"Scary~! Scary~! I wouldn't say that is exactly finding me, but it is a way!"

Desmond began to feel energy being drawn from the area, he took a breath in and controlled himself. He has felt something like this now countless times. Deep draws of energy from monsters as men, women, creatures, and beings from beyond. He then felt the energy began to be set down upon him.

"OOF! Scary~! Man do I love a woman who can kick my ass!"

He had stopped now, as he was now being forced to set himself down against the wave of force. A chuckle began to leave Desmond's mouth as he again allowed his pressence to be known.

Desmond was not an assassin, Hylaenii counseled herself, but his magic was unnerving and she wasn't sure how to counter it. She'd decided to fail enough times that he would make things increasingly obvious and she might catch him, but this seemed a sort of Old Magic she'd read about shortly after her accession, and Old Magic was little-understood and dangerous.

Each time he called out, he was a bit closer and there was something fo a pattern to it. On his fifth time popping out, she summoned her kinetic ability to propel her forward and lunged for him. Her hand reached for somewhere around Desmond's face and chest, and...


She did not see it. She did not know it.

Her hand passed right through Desmond.

Perhaps Hylaenii just thought she'd missed, for she spun on the spot, rising to a standing height. "Desmond?" she called, casting about for him. Her ability to sense had already proven ineffective. "I could've sworn I had you this time!" She waited for his voice to come again, determined to catch him this time.

Desmond saw the queen coming full tilt at him, it had been a few times and now it was time to end this little fun time. He even opened his arms in anticipation of being grabbed. His smile was child like, filled with fun and his eyes with wonder. Yet the moment she touched him.

"Hu?"

Desmond was confused, he was there and then... He began to look around somewhat confused of what was happening. He then turned to try and see where Hylaenii had gone.

It did not take him long. Once Desmond was over his initial discombobulation, he spotted her. Hylaenii was just around the hedgerow. "Oh now you've gone all silent on me," she huffed. "I must've been close."

Then, suddenly, there was a door closing. It led right into the hedge. It was hard to tell what had closed it, but there had been a door and it had closed. Now, it was a normal hedge.

"Desmond?" the queen tried again, with a growing uncertainty. She'd been a bit unnerved before by his use of primordial magic, but she'd been smiling, for the most part, doggedly playing along. Now, she was starting to look worried. "Desmond, are you okay?"

From a bit further down the hedgerow, another door slammed shut.

Desmond heard doors closing, things that were not there shutting. He called out, "I'm here, seems I was messing around a little too much".

He looked around as he now began to try and follow the sounds of doors closing. There must be something going on with them. These sounds were not here before, and it seemed they were not sounds that she could hear. All he could do was try and catch up to them and follow them.

Desmond called out once more to Hylaenii, "I'm heading further in! Try and keep up!" He was still acting playful as he called to Hylaenii. Trying not to make her too nervous even in a situation he doesn't even know what's happening.

There was no indication whatsoever that she heard him. Hylaenii continued to cast about, calling his name tentatively and casting a spell that was like powdered paint to try to mark him. Instead, it went right through him. "Something is wrong," she decided, "isn't it?" She shook her head. "That magic you were using. It's a form of Old Magic. It's their magic and you're in their realm now, I fear. I have read of it. I did not dare think it real until now and, then again, you might just be playing yet another trick on me." She moved about and seemed, now, to visibly float a foot or so above the ground. "If you see doors, you must enter one and exit through another. Do not take any stairs." She wrung her hands. "Desmond, you fool..."

Still, she could hear no answer from him, and it was likely that he had already passed fully through the veil or else was already viewing an altered version of reality. Indeed, it seemed so, from his end. She rose a little higher, casting about, and the bottom of her large dress became something like a bell, her legs dangling there in the middle of it like its clapper, strapped together and swinging loosely back and forth with her movements.

That was when, no more than a handful of feet from Desmond, another door opened.

Desmond sighed, "Doors, no stairs. Got it". Desmond questioned to himself, what is with people's fascination with doors? Doors to travel through space. Doors to travel through the void and into nothingness. Doors to traverse through different realities in the Violet Enclave. Why is it always doors?

Desmond began to run, he could feel it in his bones, he was getting close.

He dived in before the door closed and... then he was in an office, of sorts. There was a desk and blinds and a chair and something on the desk that was large and vaguely cubic and had a glass window of sorts. A strange sort of fan that might've been sirrahi whirred back and forth and, beside the mysterious cube was a mug of steaming coffee. That was not what caught the magusjaeger's attention most, however. In the back of the room was a door and, between it and him, there was an occupant at the desk. It was a giant... octopus. Presently, it looked up at him and its bespectacled eyes widened.

As Desmond Dived into the room, he ended his roll in a sitting position. Where he had one knee up and his arm resting on it as he began to look around. He saw the strange wonders in this place. Much of which seemed similar to what he remembered seeing with the Sirrahi. Strange mugs, some form of small moving fan, and then, an octopus.

Desmond popped up to his feet with a smile as he said in Avincian, "Welp, sorry for the intrusion! I'll see myself out if you don't mind". Desmond gave a salute to the octopus and began to try and make his exit.

He did not know what place he was in, but he did know that if he smiles and act confidently as he moves, most people are think you belong.

The Octopus blinked and adjusted its glasses with one tentacle, a second reaching for its mug of coffee and a third for another odd device that Desmond had not noticed at first - it reminded him slightly of the long distance message contraption that Ingrid had gotten from the sirrahi during their freshman year misadventure on Isla d'Amato.

It didn't seem to be chasing after him. It only seemed to be lifting the device to its... mouth? It was pressing numbered keys with its other tentacles and, as Desmond dashed past, he noticed that it actually had ten.

It was all-but effortless. He opened the other door and there was the hedge maze and there was Queen Hylaenii, looking more than a touch worried. As he left, he could hear the decapus speaking in a strange and buzzy voice. "Yes, I'd like to report an unauthorized five-one-three. DZ55, Ersand'Enise..."

Desmond was chuckling as he made his way out and saw queen Hylaenii. he rubbed the back of his head as he gave a small laugh, "Oopsie~, seems I was messing around a little too much".

Desmond was trying to lighten the worrying mood that queen Hylaenii was in. He had no clue what had happened. Thankfully the queen in her times of study did. And if anything, she was the one who told him how to get out. So when the time comes, she was owed a thanks.
The queen pinched a bit of air and shook her head, eyebrows raised. "My tutors always told me that bit of knowledge might come in handy some day," she snorted. "I suppose I owe them an apology." With that, she reached out for Desmond's arm expectantly. "Now, shall we, and with a minimum of fuss until our next destination?" For all that she sounded disapproving, Desmond would've struggled to miss that she was smiling.

Desmond shook his head with a smile as he gave his arm out for the queen as he said, "I suppose I should give my thanks to them-", still completely filled with chuckles, "-after I find a way to thank you of course".

Desmond then raised his hand free hand, "I shall do my best to make sure the bare minimum shenanigans will happen". With saying that, Desmond was mostly giggling the entire time. He promised to make sure the bare minimum things happen, yet what was the fun in allowing nothing to happen. A few smaller pranks shouldn't hurt anyone.

They wound their way towards the end of the hedge maze and the Ever Tree, Hylaenii allowing Desmond to take the lead. In truth, she seemed to be flagging, letting him more or less pull her along. "I fear I've been on my feet far too much these last couple days," she laughed, but she quickly changed the subject. "So, before any of the others reach us, do tell me, sir: were you indeed beyond the veil and what did you witness through the door?" She tilted her head in expectant curiosity.

Desmond threw his hand out as he continued, "I made my way through before it closed behind me, within was a strange small room with many strange mechanical contraptions I could not even begin to fathom how to describe nor could I figure out how to comprehend. Yet within this strange small white room was a creature of strange proportions".

Desmond turned to the queen as he then began to create more tension. As if the creature was some monster, "It was an octopus sitting upon a chair, drinking from a strange glassy mug filled with coffee. It began to grab onto multiple different contraptions as I saw behind it another door. Me and the creature stared each other down. I was the first to move as I bolted for the door. The creature lept up to try and catch me yet I slipped and dodged it, and it was in that moment I realized, it was not an octopus, it was a decapus!"

Desmond's eyes was filled with surprise as he continued, "It had 10 arms, each one barbed. It's body was gray and eyes were beady and red. but strangest of all, it was able to speak! It spoke in a shill and buzzy voice that sounds like it grated the ears and it buzzed in the chest".

Desmond put his hand over his chest with a sigh of relief, "Honestly, it scared me more than anything as I wasn't sure I would have been able to make it out, yet here I am".

Desmond then gestured to the queen, "The moment I reached the door, its arms recoiled back and I was able to make it through. Where I appeared in front of you".

Hylaenii's eyes widened and she giggled, reacted, and even punched him lightly on the shoulder as he recounted his harrowing tale. "Well, I must say," the queen remarked with a laugh, "The sailors of Shycuurii have nothing on you." She bit her lower lip, leaning in, and winked. Then, she pulled back and they continued in an easy manner for a little while. "I, too, once met one of these fiends. I kicked him right between the eyes, I did." A leg rose within her dress, still invisible amid the great frilly mass. "With a stiletto heel to boot. Cleanly impaled him." She smiled smugly. "It would appear my kill count is higher than yours, magusjaeger."

They were alone for some time longer and she was hand-in-hand with him still. "But it's not all a tale, is it?" she remarked out of the blue, now taking the lead and pulling him on. "There are monsters beyond the veil, watching us with an intelligence more ancient, profound, and malevolent than our own." She shook her head. "I have seen them." She swallowed. "I have felt their lash." She spun out ahead of him to face him, and seemed to be walking in reverse, though he knew that she was not.

Then, a sonic bubble dropped around the pair and the queen swelled with temporal energies. "You know of what I hide," she remarked matter-of-factly. "Don't you?"

Desmond chuckled and laughed as he listened to the queens tale. He lightly bowed as he said, "I believe I must concede to my better".

After a few moments of fun, she then asked him questions with more sincerity. Asking if the tale was true, Desmond answered her question with a cool and sincere, "That is correct your highness. It was not a tale, just an exaggeration of what did happen and what I saw". After which she even began to tell of her own experiences and thoughts of the monsters of beyond.

He continued to listen to the queen as she now spoke of her own experiences. He felt the bubble of energy drop, his smile never faded. He felt the energies within the queen swelled as she asked her question, he nodded lightly as he answered, "Yes your majesty. I do know. I've had thoughts for some time".

Hylaenii nodded then, businesslike, and settled onto the grass. "Then I trust that my secret is safe with you. If it spreads, my enemies will use it to remove me." She sat there beneath a tree, breathing the brisk breeze in and out, taking in the aromas of Dorrad in a place not dissimilar to her home. "It also provides me with a trump card I can play when most needed, but one must never let her enemies know what she has up her sleeve or it ceases to be an asset and becomes quite the opposite."

She regarded him for a moment. "A man like you knows these things, however." She shook her head. "What you don't know is the sheer power and danger of what you've encountered." She raised her chin, looking up at him, still the same woman, in theory. "They're called knowers, and they are something that exists beyond our world and beyond that of even angels, demons, and perhaps gods." She gestured at the puff of her dress. "Somewhere in there I have legs, not that I would be able to tell you precisely where they were beyond intuition and how the self I can feel rests upon them. One mistake is disastrous for a tethered, or one desperate moment. They are alien things," she admitted, smoothing out her dress, "lost to me for half my days."

She patted the grass beside herself for Desmond to sit. "Please sit with me if you might?" she asked with a hint of insecurity. "I do not often find myself looking up at people so, and I like it little."

Desmond nodded and listened to the queen. He looked around for a moment before he continued to listen to the queen. Then he began to take a seat with the queen at her request, "Of course".

As Desmond seated himself cross-legged close to her, Hylaenii cleared her throat. "I was ten years old and new to magic and all of its wonders." Her eyes clouded over a bit as she remembered. "I was a prodigy, they said, but I didn't think much of it, aside from that sort of pride kids have. We all want to be the best. Children are merely brazen about it."

"My family are descendants of the Doren dynasty, who had presided over Mycormii's golden age, but we'd been out of power for over a century." She snorted. "Coincidence that the country went into the gutter during those years?" She breathed again, and batted the notion away with a hand. "It was known that I was tethered, but I was treated for it and managed well and I had nothing to fear. Perhaps, even as I began to dabble in magics that alter the very fabric of our reality, I should've been more aware, but I was not." She shook her head. "I was fearless as a child."

She turned to him, head tilted, and her face seized slightly in consideration. "The knowers took half of my body, and that is the numb, dead thing that I hide today, that makes my grand deception that much harder." There was something smug on her face for a moment. "You're a clever bastard, you know." She leaned away for a moment, regarding him with a strange sort of pride. "I've not been debunked by more than a couple in my life -" Her voice dropped dangerously and her eyes narrowed. "- and I've disappeared them." She waited a moment to see his reaction to that.

Desmond listened, quietly, allowing the queen to speak without interruption. It was when she had a smug look on her face a smile cracked on his, "Scary~!"

Desmond shook his head with a smile as he looked out, "So what do you wanna do? Disappear me too? I may not win, but the heavens and hells both know I won't go down easily".

Desmond then lightly shrugged as he laid back into he grass, "I'm no enemy, if I was I'd probably done whatever I could to escape and get this info to whoever I pleased. You know I have the skills to attempt such a thing. You're a tethered, you know if I would have attempted to even try and perform pinch language, or a long distance transmission spell".

Desmond then lightly patted the grass, "So you do what you think is needed and I'll be laying here. The old fart who is with you might take another 5 to 10 minutes to come out. So we got plenty of time to relax. Since you've been so taxed as of recent. Might be a nice moment to metaphorically kick off your shoes".

Hylaenii let him speak. Then, she arched an eyebrow. "I spoke in jest, Desmond." A brief laugh escaped her and she shook her head in mirth, glancing down at the grass and picking a dandelion.

When her eyes levered back up, however, they were serious. "But I won't have to disappear you anyhow if you keep playing loose and fast with the rules of reality." She swallowed. "They'll come for you as they came for me. I was ten. My family were in something like an exile, though the Amiis, who'd taken over from us and ruined Mycormii, dared not move against us for we had some power in the region and a fond place in the hearts of some of the populace." In the distance she could feel Dory and Leon growing closer, and Siimond and Seliin not so far away either.

"But the people's restlessness grew and we became a focal point for the changes they sought. I don't remember it well," she admitted. "I was young and more enraptured with my magic and its limitless study, but I remember my father being forced to decry our legacy before the public. I remember moving from our castle to a townhome where we hid and then to another castle owned by our rivals." She snorted. "I do not think we were residents so much as prisoners by that point."

Birds chirped and tittered in the trees, their sound traveling into the sonic bubble but nothing leaving it. "They came for us all at once: dozens of trained mages." She shuddered at the memory. "They killed my aunt, uncle and all of my cousins but one. Last I saw of my grandmother, she was fleeing for her life down a hallway." Her fists clenched and her nostrils flared. "My brothers fought them and I watched Deran torn limb from limb. Axel was knocked unconscious, taken, and had his mind melted by them. They tried to prop him up as a rival claimant - a controlled opposition - for a few years afterwards. My baby sister was hurled from the tower - I don't even remember her name - and my parents and grandfather?" She smiled faintly, ironically. "They fought like dragons, with everything that they had. Time and again, the Amii's people killed one or the other, but we had temporal magic and, each time, we came back stronger and wiser to their plans and whittled down their numbers. I hid in a room, somewhere between longing to fight and terrified for my life, stealing glances out at the chaos."

She'd become unfocused, but now she looked Desmond right in the eyes. "But each time," she assured him, "whether immediately or a couple of minutes later, darklings - what huusoi call aberrations - appeared, and they grew ever larger. That's when the knowers came. They attacked indiscriminately, for all there were guilty in some way of having participated in the warping of reality." She nodded slowly, and then shivered. "My mother told me to run, to go find our chamberlain, Siimond, where he was hunting in the woods and escape while everyone was distracted. I watched a tentacle burst through her brain. My father tried to buy me time, but they ripped him clean in half and there, standing in my way, blocking the entire hallway, was the largest darkling of all." She shrugged. "I was a child. I was in terror. I'd just watched the knower behind me tear apart the strongest people that I knew, so I bit my lip and gathered my courage and ran into it."

She sighed and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "To hear Siimond tell it later, I'd overdrawn so badly that I'd lost everything up to my neck and I and my cousin Hilarii - who'd hid in a cask of peppers in the basement - were the only survivors. I had capacity to spare after that, so they healed me as far as they could with white aberrations and hid both me and the calamity. I - a little orphaned girl - was no threat to the Amiis until I was." She glanced elsewhere for a moment and then back to him. "So know this: the knowers are indiscriminate. They see all and care not for our morality. They will cut you down for interrupting their vision of a preferred reality just as soon as they will a being of pure evil."

There was a momentary silence and she dropped the bubble, turning on the spot. "That was... probably a little bit much," she admitted, and she was a girl a year or two his junior, suddenly, and not a queen at all. Hylaenii shook her head tightly. "Anyhow, they're about to ctach up to us. What say we manage a finishing kick and beat them out the exit." For what it was worth, it loomed mere yards before them.

Desmond listened as he nodded his head, allowing Hylaenii to tell her story. To tell her childhood, to tell what is her truth. Desmond nodded as he listened to the story of a child who was taken prisoner as a child. Mages of great renown fought, they created wakes, and then, the Knowers came.

Desmond listened, and in the end, given a warning. Desmond smiled and laughed. It was a somewhat dry laugh, as he laid there. He took a breath in and sighed. His smile dissappeared for but a moment.

Thoughts filled his mind for a second before he chuckled and twisted to look to the queen, "Yeah I think we should beat them!" He jumped to his feet as he held out his arm, "Shall we?"

It was out there now and she had regrets about ever having spoken it, but supposed she might be able to trust Desmond, at least. Then, they had the perfect excuse not to dwell on the grim story and the dire warning.

And, with that, Queen Hylaenii took Desmond's hand and they hurried out of the maze just as Leon and Dory close in on them, and...

They won.

There was a picnic right after, where the queen found an interesting letter in her basket, and a fun time spent at the Animal Farm, where it turned out that their spraybloom scents were an attractant to some rather dangerous fauna, and then, finally, a wind-down in the bath house before Hylaenii's planned evening at the ball. That, at least, was without an overabundance of adventure, and all was - more or less - well.

The rest of the day passed in both excitement and relaxation, with Desmond growing close enough to the young queen that Siimond shot her more than one disapproving look and the two were seen together in the bath house, speaking in confidence.
Her ladies fluttered about on errands and making chitchat with both Dorothea and Leon. There was a game of hide-and-seek in the hedge maze, a particularly lovely picnic with a bit of an unexpected surprise, and something of an... adventure at the Animal Farm, just north of the city.

By the time that Queen Hylaenii had departed their company for the evening ball to be hosted at Balthazar Hall in her honour, it was clear to all that this was not the last time she would be seen with these three. She rode away in a carriage, waving and peering out the window but, much as she'd seemed to want to stop a handful of times, she was forbidden from doing so in the interests of her not being unfashionably late for an event once more. After all, she had lost track of time on the evening of her arrival, walking among the people of Belleville for well over an hour.

After the near miss of the Queen's arrival, fears abound for her safety and suspicions as to her motives hover in the background. She is both a maverick and - clearly - a target, and not only for assassination and blackmail. She is young, she is beautiful, and she is a reigning monarch, that is to say 'eminently marriageable'. Recovering quickly from her opening ordeal, Hylaenii sets out to dazzle her hosts and, they, her. She carries herself with such poise and charm that she seems almost to float as she walks, her great dress billowing out like a bell. For every comment, she has a witty rejoinder or some worthwhile insight, and yet... one can't help but sense that the woman has secrets. Perhaps one young potential suitor might reveal them...

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The Hourglass Order

Epilogue: Part One

It had grown late. Before the nine students of Ersand'Enise knew it, the sun was sitting low in the sky, ready to impale itself on the towers of the White Walled city that cast such a long - and lengthening - shadow over this place. Perhaps they were more unified than when they'd started in this endeavour, bright and early the morning before. Perhaps they were less so. Truly, it was something only they could know.

Yet, the secrecy of things cut both ways, for the students could not have known the hearts of the Resistance. Perhaps they had drifted from their cause. Some had become little more than gangsters. Some, perhaps, believed fervently - enough to take extreme measures, for who can truly know the hearts of men and what they hold deep within, away from the sight of others, where not even magic can know all?

Days' travel distant lay the Realm of Parmoy, and it was now under the attack of the Grey Fleet: a relentless, ruthless force that churned up all those who resisted its march. Men, magic, and machines wound into that open sore, trying to staunch the bleeding, but also food, medicine, and the necessities of life. This was because of the Resistance. The cell in Ersand'Enise was but one of many, and its efforts kept those people alive.

Days passed, and then weeks, and Jaxan lent them his increasing aid. He found his sense of purpose and they did not, in fact, use his ability to generate aberrations as a form of revenue. Then, one day, he wasn't there. Instead, in his place, was a letter for the eyes of only Aras'thazan'in'tiimithal. It warned him of a vision. It warned him to run.

Finally, the layers of Jaxan's and his parents' relationship remained obscured in all but the broadest sense. The nine from Ersand'Enise could not have known the reasons behind Talthan and Emenii's lukewarm support for the Resistance. They could not have known the depth of the yasoi's disaffection with the nation of their birth and their belief in the victory, justice, and deliverance offered by its invaders. They could not have known, but Jaxan, at least, had suspected.

---

Epilogue: Part Two

The sun sat low in the sky, vast and reddening, like an overripe fruit. The people of Belleville bustled about the last of their daily errands, final deals being struck, smoke starting to issue from chimneys as dinner was prepared, shops shuttering for the evening, and crickets chirping in the long grass that eked out a living among the byways and alleys.

It was an innocuous part of this scene: a young man and a young woman - they could have been lovers, or perhaps siblings, or merely friends - walked down the Searoad, its swirling crowds paying them no manner of extra heed. They walked, and they talked. The young man turned and smiled towards the girl, her pretty red hair rippling in the evening breeze that graced the outside of the white walled city.

“Why did you spare the boy?” he questioned her, with an unfeigned curiosity. His tone was soft, and the man’s eyes met hers searching for an answer before she’d had the chance to respond.

The woman shrugged. It was an evasive gesture, though her answer was not. “He was… just so innocent, so nice.” She sauntered instead of walking, the sunshine warm and pink on her skin. “He’ll never grasp it and -” She sighed, twisting to regard him. “I didn’t wanna kill that goodness, I guess.” The walls of the city loomed before her: an impregnable white fortress she would never be allowed inside - never, in spite of the kind words of one young man who was. “We’re not the villains of this story.” She willed some certainty into it.

“That’s a fine reason, Cherii,” he uttered, wistfully looking up at the walls that were soon within reach, the end of the road. “The world is sometimes cruel and unfair, but that doesn’t mean we have to be.”

“But ruthless,” she replied. “We have to be ruthless.” Did her eyes flick his way? If they did, it was so brief as to be effectively imperceptible.

His gaze however, was steadfast upon the city - their city, if the ruthlessness they had to employ would deliver justice to them. “A loss of one thing, but in service of a greater gain.” He closed his eyes and exhaled, before looking toward her once more, his eyes shuttered windows to the soul that lay beneath. “Whatever we do, we do in service of a better world.”

She appeared to simply accept the statement and there was nothing more to it. “So, what happens next?” It was a simple question. The apple seller shook his head and sighed sadly “It’s better if you don’t know. Let us both spare some good in the world today.”

So it was that Cherii’cola’caliman passed from that meeting with her sense of goodness intact.

---

Epilogue: Part Three

“Before she’s here, we need to get our house in order.” Mycan locked the door and stood there at the top of the steps in silhouette. Uneasy glances were exchanged. Aras was poker faced, peeling an apple with his knife. He nodded, however.

“This again?” Naxen retorted. “Are we really about to open this can of worms and start pointing fingers at each other?”

“We six were the only ones who knew,” said Aras, breaking his silence, “so tell me, Naxen, how did they find it?” Mycan tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in a gesture universal to both yasoi and humans.

“It had to have been those greasy fucking Parmoyish!” declared Ashon.

“We never should’ve trusted them,” Miret agreed quickly.

“It’s that little psycho Eneden.” This, then, was Chasto, eager to shift suspicion. “I bet he’s struck a deal with the Hax’olop.”

“Or just taken it for himself,” Naxen snorted. “He would.” he shrugged.

On the eve of what might’ve been the most important thing to have ever happened to them, the Resistance Against the Tarlonese Invasion had just suffered a decimating setback. Eyes slid to the eldest of them, seated at the head of the table, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. He didn’t speak.

“They didn’t know which ship it was on,” countered Mycan. “They only knew it’d be arriving that day and that the crates would be marked.”

The old man scowled, taking out a dagger and spinning it idly but not absently on the tabletop. “One of you has betrayed us.”

What followed was an eruption of denials, protests of innocence crawling over each other like crabs in a bucket, desperate theories, excuses, pleas. Then, it happened: “Well, if it was anyone, it was Chasto! He’s Parmoyish!”

Nervous glances were exchanged. A handful of eyes went to Naxen. A new and dangerous door had been opened. “Convenient!” shouted the accused. “He who has been deflecting the most.”

“Isn’t your uncle baron of Yaruuma?”

“Aren’t you married to a Tarlonese!?”

“You never should’ve brought this up, Naxen. It makes you look suspicious.” The only woman among the group, Miret, spoke with cornered resentment.

Still, the knife spun on the tabletop. The old man watched it. He watched, and he listened.

“Nobody is a traitor,” insisted Mycan. “I truly believe they are not, but one of you spoke carelessly. One of you let something slip.”

The spinning blade on the table came to an abrupt stop, as the wizened man grasped it firmly. “Bullshit.” he spoke gruffly, and the arm holding the knife began to raise and point, before there was a stop. His mouth jerked open and three dark red specks - almost black - appeared on the tabletop. His eyes levered down to regard them with bemusement.

THUD

---

Epilogue: Part Four

Aras’ head dropped against the table and the knife clattered across the floor before it could be levied against the traitor. Foam and bile spilled from his lips as his ancient body slumped in his seat, lifeless.

Miret - the woman - let out a scream and could instantly feel their eyes upon her. Those darted around the room, now, a hornet’s nest disturbed - accusing, shouting silently, wide with shock and terror. “That doesn’t just happen randomly!” shouted Mycan. “One of you did -”

His eyes rolled back and filled with blood and he collapsed in a heap. “It was Naxen!” Ashon leveled a finger. “It was fucking Naxen! He’s been deflecting the whole time!”

“Yash spax!” shouted Naxen. “It’s someone else, trying to set us against each other!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Miret. “now it couldn’t possibly any of us, now that it clearly fucking is! Very -”

“Ensa’Calop” whispered Chasto into the ear of Naxen from behind, before he began to throttle the man's throat with a full draw and a firm squeeze, making full use of his leadvein abilities.

Miret scrambled backwards, eyes wide. “It’s him. It has to be him!”

“What the fuck, Chasto? We don’t know if -” Ashon’s words were cut off by a scream as Chasto vomited up blood and fell backwards. It was all over his clothes, and Naxen’s, and the floor. Miret began running for the door. “It - it wasn’t,” Naxen tried. “I know how it looks but it wasn’t.”

“Help me, you stupid taca!” Ashon shouted at her, and she stopped at the base of the steps, coming about. Naxen threw up his hands defensively, backing away, but now they had him surrounded. “You traitorous piece of tiims’pax!”

The pair closed in on the traitor and there was naught he could do. His clothes were covered with blood, and his throat was so damaged that he could barely speak more desperate pleas to them. Ashon kicked his former - false - comrade to the ground and Miret finished the job, a clean stomp to the head, ending the man’s life.

They regarded each other for a moment, chests heaving, hands trembling. They hadn’t even taken in the room yet, perhaps because they knew and could not bear to look. Miret broke first, her lip trembling, tears spilling down her cheeks. She stumbled toward him for an embrace, but Ashon seized up, taking a step back and shaking his head, dazed.

Immediately apologetic, for she needed him, in truth, he turned back to regard her. For a moment, he locked eyes with her and they were bloodshot, he noticed, bloodshot from the -

He turned and ran, taking the stairs two at a time as she expired behind him with a choked cry. The wood thumped beneath his feet and mortal terror propelled him. The lock! The stupid lock wouldn’t - there it was! He rattled it open and it swung and -

For a moment, Ashon thought he felt a tingle behind his eyes.

An apple - partially peeled - rolled off of the table when something thumped against it. It landed on the floor and rolled some more, soaking up the blood of the Resistance and going still.

---

Ransom Demand: Fin.

The Hourglass Order

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It was late on a Taldes afternoon. Light streamed in through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows of Arc-en-Ciel Hall and the footfalls of High Zeno Tannifer Marbrand clicked forbiddingly on the parquet as she walked. Two others scampered along in her wake, bringing her the day's final briefing before she headed home.

"We've received another request for information on the Kavanaugh boy."

"Who's sending all of these in? I thought he wasn't supposed to matter!"

"According to his documentation, he has a rather large... family."

"So it's all of his degenerate relations, then?"

"No, ma'am. I doubt they'd be literate enough anyhow."

"Well, then who? For the love of Shune..."

"Yesterday, it was a milliner from the Crafters' Quarter and an arms manufacturer from outside the walls. The day before, it was an accountant at Sealy's, a master of the tailor's guild, and the madam of a local brothel."

"And today?" inquired Tannifer Marbrand, eyebrow arched.

"It was a little girl named Genevieve Marais, from the Workman's Quarter."

"Yes, the one who lost her legs in that awful mess last year." The zeno considered. "And who was the first?"

"That would be one..." Marcel flipped through his little book. "Isabella Lowell, a student at the academy."

"The clothing designer?"

"Yes, ma'am. Originally registered as 'Moriarty', but she appears to have married. Enthish, I believe."

"But really, Dolores?" Tannifer rolled her eyes. "I should bloody well hope that I, of all people, would recognize an Enthish name."

"As you say, milady. Apologies."

"It's not for you to apologize for, Marcel," she huffed, but then she batted any further conversation on the topic away. "And she was the first and it was just the once, hmm?"

"Apologies Miss Marbrand," mewed Dolores. She bowed in deference. "She was the first - a tethered girl - waiting in Balthazar for most of the day. She came again the next."

"And nothing else?"

"Well," Marcel added mysteriously, "Until today."

"Out with it then, Marcel!"

"Sh-she came again today to inquire about Desmond Catulus."

There was a long, vexed sigh. "The mercenary?"

"The same, ma'am."

Her face settled. "Very well. Let me handle her."

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The Hourglass Order

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T H E D A Y T H E M U S I C D I E D

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It was dark and the water sparkled with moonlight. Kaureerah rode out on a small boat - just her and Tku - and it all seemed so unreal, so unnecessary. She had run from her home, but it hadn't been cowardice. She'd tried - gods how she'd tried - but they'd been determined to remain thralls and suffer in silence for someone else's sin. The options had been to remain there and live under her people's disdain and suspicion, or to risk running for the kekars' world and living as an outsider, but at least one who might make a mark, who might be accepted in some way.

Is that why I'm here? So people might accept me? The wind whipped her hair about and she spared a glimpse back at Tku, dismissing the thought for now. If she was not so very strong in the Gift, she was good with this particular aspect of it, and the boat moved quickly within the grasp of kinetic magic. Further she went from shore and she breathed in the tropical nighttime air, finally somewhat cooler, just for the breeze.

The waters below were not empty, however. She could feel, in their depths, how they churned with life. Some was the assortment of fish, corals, and molluscs one might expect, but most was something different: the writhing, gnashing hunger of hundreds of boat-sized threshers. Most were preoccupied with a different sort of hunger, but they were aggressive, they were strong, and at least three were coming for their boat at present. "Tkoo," Kaureerah said, "Eye need yoo too meynteyn aur speed."

She reached out once more with her senses. She knew the beasts of the sea, even if these ones were less familiar. They used sound and magnetism to navigate, and she was a master of the first. Switching positions with Tku, she dipped her hand, trailing, into the water. She cupped it in a specific way, and then fed the current into it. The sound that emanated was scarcely audible to human ears, distinctly audible to hers, and outright alarming to those of the threshers. The response was immediate: wherever they were, they jerked and spasmed and shot away. The three closing in on the boat turned back. Concentrating for the next minute or so, she continued to send out that pulse and it continued to do its work.

And then, as a great, sharp-prowed Tarlonese thiis'elaaz neared, she and Tku were alone again with the wind and the waves and the moonlight, the occasional spray of water dappling the eeaiko's clothing. Certainly, they exchanged a few nervous words. She helped the artist rehearse a couple of his lines. The Tarlonese ship approached and, once more, Kaureerah cupped her hand and let out a pulse of sound to drive the threshers back with discomfort. Sometimes, animals could be allies and even friends. Sometimes, just like people, they would not.

She remained behind as he climbed aboard. These Tarlonese were not friends; they were representatives of a tyrannical empire, no different from the Virangish who extorted these islands because they could. Yet, both were 'allies' and, the more that Kaureerah sat in that boat, bobbing tethered to a warship, the more that she soured on it. Two years ago, as some inconsequential water girl trying to find her way in the inland world, singing little songs and selling her body for money, she had spoken with people who thought that they could change things, who were trying to change things. She had agreed to help them, but what had she done? Truly, what difference had she made?

Always, she thought, we sacrifice the future for the present, forgetting that today's present was yesterday's future. On, she thought, and on the cycle goes and we tell ourselves that we had to, that we're moving in the right direction, that next time will be better. She had committed and would not try to change matters now. Against her growing disgust, she would hold her nose and watch her allies work with tyrants to help these people perpetuate their own oppression. This would be the last time, however. She swore it to herself, sitting on that bobbing boat, impotent and irrelevant. She loved life. She wished for peace, but this was running: this was what it looked like.

There, on the tropical atoll of Moatu Suva, one warm dorrad night, something broke inside of Neki Kaureerah Wenhan and not all the glue nor magic in the world might fix it. Perhaps it was her idealism, or it might've been her silence, for she was a maker of songs that had always said nothing. But... maybe it was her consent - her willingness to dully accept things the way that they were and do nothing. Fighting for a better world sometimes requires one to punch up at the giant instead of down. She sat there in a boat and breathed unsteadily in and out. Her fingers curled into her palms and her hands turned into fists.

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The Hourglass Order

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They had sensed her and, from this, there could be no return. The door did not open to their knocks but, to their surprise, Ashon, Abdel, and Johann found it unlocked and beckoning them inside. The house was dark and dingy, curtains drawn, visibility minimal. There was some nice furniture, but it was worn and, in some places, damaged. Recent attempts at cleaning could not mask the deep-set stench or neglect and, a keen eye would notice signs of a recent altercation: a chair missing a leg, a shattered glass lantern swept into a corner, a door restored unexpertly to its hinges with fresh nails, bracing beams, and putty. Only light or a very keen sense for chemical magic would reveal the bloodstains.

Then, she was there: the one-legged woman who had to be the Tarlonese agent. She was young - no older than Ashon - and pretty, with freckles and long ever-so-slightly wavy red hair, big grey-blue eyes, and a lithe, athletic figure. There was no missing her dishevelled look, however. Her hair was greasy, hastily swept back, and there were bags under her eyes. A ragged rip showed along one flank of her shirt, and the singular knee of her shiny black tights. She was seated on an easy chair, regarding the interlopers warily. She had been so still as to have gone unnoticed at first. "I guess it was only a matter of time," she said, in a distinct Tarlonese accent. "You know, he didn't give me a choice. Please don't be like him." She was, for anyone who might've recognized her, Thantra'luuren'woi'etaar. She was, for anyone who might've recognized it, brimming with recently-drawn energy.

Niallus, meanwhile, had rebuffed the Resistance's attempt to establish trust and rushed off to pursue a woman who he was certain was Cherii'cola. Upon losing her trail, he had given up and now found himself trying sneak into what had been offered freely and declined. The moment that he made for the basement door, he found at least four sets of eyes on him. “That's the Tansoan Culture Club down there, elar,” said one of the people at the tables, firmly. “You need to be a member to enter.”

Dory and Lunara stood there on a small street just off of the Searoad, at loggerheads. The latter had ruined a plan of the former with her intervention, and Dory was busy silently resenting her for it. Lunara found herself suspicious of the apparent victims of a yasoi attack. They glanced at each other, the first only responding once his partner was fully healed. If Dory had been a pleasant surprise, this one reeked of Ersand'Enise, the way she questioned them. "Just scaring some Resistance spook outta here." He shook his head. "Ever since the knife-ears started pouring in, they've brought their crime and addiction and filth to our neighbourhoods," confirmed the second. "Not even safe for my sister and her kids to go out without an escort anymore." The first man nodded. "We're keeping the place safe, and your friend here helped us." He shot Dory a tight, appreciative smile. This, then, was where they stood.

The other girls, meanwhile - Xiuyang, Oksana, and Seviin - were not standing at all. After darting and dodging through the busy streets in the shadow of the White Walls, they arrived barely more than a minute after the boys, having seen their allies and counterparts enter the row house as they were still hurrying towards it. They had Maribet with them and, if partially recovered from her stupor upon breaking through her conversion disorder, she was still in something of a haze and vulnerable. More importantly, perhaps, they possessed vital information that Abdel, Johann, and Ashon did not. The former - the only one who might recognize Thantra - was just ahead of them with his skuggvars, reaching out with his senses as they arrived. Whether or not they were too late remained to be seen...

The final chapter of Ransom Demand begins now!

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The Hourglass Order

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The remains of the warehouse still smouldered, its charred timbers poking up from the ground like cruelly amputated reminders of the encounter's violence, ashy smoke boiling off into the night air, and a severed support beam glowing with residual heat. Yet, thanks to the last-second intervention of Seviin, Xiuyang, Johann, and others, the damage to the surrounding neighbourhood was virtually nonexistent. Locals who had run and hid in terror began to come out of the woodwork. As a soft rain began to coat the ground and wreckage, they gathered in curiosity, hovering nearby until the much-feared interlopers from the White-Walled City were gone. They soon progressed to poking around, and then looting and cleaning.

Some longer-term residents spoke of Moli's Emporium, the previous year: a local business and success story that had been ruthlessly attacked and obliterated by invaders from Ersand'Enise. The academy had later claimed the mission to be both humanitarian and focused on preventing the creation of dangerous and illegal weapons, and some of the locals had believed them, but most knew better. It was more of the same; someone in Mudville started to get big, to make their own way, to provide gainful employment, and the mages came out to crush them, for it was in the name: a place called 'Mudville' must never outshine the White-Walled City. However, the situation had changed since the arrival, in droves, of refugees from yasoi lands. While their people had always been a noticeable minority, they now made up solidly half of the town: impoverished, seething, burgeoning, and in increasing tension with their human neighbours.

Yet, if feelings were mixed, there was some gratitude for the forced departure of the Colas. Even if they were homegrown, they had been thugs and gangsters. They had blackmailed, extorted, beaten, humiliated, and even murdered their fellow Mudvillians. If the two sides - criminals and colonists - had not destroyed each other, as some might've hoped, at least one was gone. At least the cruelty, arrogance, and recklessness of the academy's students was well marked. Most of the swelling slum's residents had developed strategies for not being caught in it and maimed or killed. That Ersand'Enise demanded the occasional blood sacrifice in return for the opportunities it provided was almost a fact of life at this point: resented but dully accepted. The Cola Brothers had been uniquely awful, and now they were gone. Now, thought some - particularly the human, eeaiko, and helegan residents, particularly the Tarlonese supporters - if the mages' rampage ended with the Resistance crushed as well, they might be free of two unique evils.

This, then, was what swirled through the sideroads, alleys, and tenements of the town renamed 'Belleville' that night, and into the next day. Only Seviin had hung around, compelled by her nature and duties to help clean up the disaster site. Once the rain stopped, she'd found a dry place and caught a few hours of sleep. She'd woken early and met her peers at the Seagate, only her fine - though slightly sullied - priestess' robes and familiarity with the guards preventing her from being barred or questioned. They filtered through, some holding a brief discussion on what should be done next. The clock was ticking and the Colas had proven to be a false lead: opportunists who'd overplayed their hand and been dealt with.

They had only two worthwhile pieces of information - hardly leads - at this point, and so the group divided itself up so as to best use their strengths. Most of the others were immensely wary of Dorothea after her display of dark magic and sadism the previous day, and ill-disposed to working with her. Despite their regard for each other, Ashon was insistent upon meeting the Resistance and Seviin equally insistent that her Tarlonese accent would set them on edge. Hence, they parted ways. Hence, Seviin found herself searching for the one-legged woman who'd been sighted with Jaxan slightly before his disappearance. She found herself with Xiuyang, Oksana, and Dory. The former pair quickly separated themselves from Dory, who was quick to become tangled up in a tense racial standoff. Oksana pursued her own leads through a ghastly hostel and these eventually led her to reunite with her allies. At a Red Pentact hospital, they learned what remained. The puzzle came together. They made haste for a row house in Miller's Hook, their goal in sight and a secondary one presenting itself.

The remaining five sought out the Resistance. Ashon decided to investigate the relatively new Cryin' Cyan: a bar not far from the Searoad where some whispered that Resistance members could be found. Niallus and Lunara followed a separate trail and soon found themselves tangled up in a contentious brawl by the docks where a Resistance agent looking to collect donations had drawn the ire of workers. Johann made his way through the market stalls along the great boulevard, generously splashing his money around in search of leads. Finally, Abdel hung back, keeping tabs on all of the others as a tethered is uniquely capable of doing. It wasn't long before Ashon had navigated his way to the heart of the freedom fighters' hideout - or were they gangsters? Niallus, through his well-intentioned meddling, soon found himself at the Cryin' Cyan as well, Abdel and Johann following a separate set of leads. While the Eskandishman failed a trustworthiness test and was pulled away by the spectre of revenge against Cherii'cola, Ashon, Johann, and Abdel learned what they needed and linked up for a final push.

Dory and Lunara were the only others who appeared cast adrift, having both been tangled up in the aftermath of a potentially-deadly and racially charged brawl. As that played out, the clock continued to tick. Their peers, who'd both taken disparate routes to what was - surely! - the final scenario of this wild goose chase, were without their vital support. Was this it? Was it all to play for? Was Jaxan even okay - alive!?

Only one thing was certain: they would soon find out!

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The Hourglass Order

^{@A Lowly Wretch}

C O N S P I R A C Y

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Rikard had promised the locals a lightning show for their parade and, with some semblance of his usual aplomb, he delivered. Inside, however, he was freaking out. There was no other way to accurately put it, as utterly unscientific as it was. They're hiding weapons of mass destruction: biological terrors. He drank, because he could and because he needed to, but it was not the gleeful thing he'd hoped for.

In truth, he'd joined this mission for a mix of research opportunity - he'd wanted to test the limits of a commandment spell on a particularly large creature - the sheer adventure of it, and a chance to continue to make a name for himself. It was important to build up some level of cachet as a mage, after all. he'd also done it for the money. He had little and less these days for his equipment, and a mage was little more than a warlock without quality gear and the knowhow that could be built by using it.

What he'd learned from Laure, however, had changed everything. Assuming this wasn't some sort of Perrench ploy - and why the hell would they choose him of all people: the fourteen year old who near-everyone belittled - there was now a clear moral imperative. The people on the Revidian side who he knew were likely in the dark as to the true horror, but perhaps they could be warned. Perhaps they could be brought around. This broke the Owl's Code, and very clearly.

Momentarily, he thought about speaking with Ayla, but things were a bit... weird these days between them. Leon wouldn't listen anyhow, and he couldn't actually find Ciro. Then, it came to him! Trypano: the least Revidian Revidian he had ever met, and she had a certain sort of outside-the-box morality to her. He'd seen her earlier, hanging about the fringes and stocking up for the inevitable fight. Gods, she came across as creepy. Why did she need to be so creepy? Her heart was mostly in the right place, he knew.

He endeavoured to find her.

Trypano stood in the docks where the others who were commissioned to this task alongside her had split up. Ever since they split up she hadn't seen nor heard from any of them. She certainly hoped they were seeing some sort of success to their investigation as she had only been stymied in her own efforts. Denied the opportunity to heal the wounded lest she create more of them and cause a scene she was relegated to simple chores, all to help ingratiate herself to a populace who would never trust her. In her cloak, masking the thing that lurked below, she simply stood and looked around. Much had been done but now she knew neither where everyone else had gone or what more she could do. She had half-contemplated leaving to find the wreck on her own accord but from what she heard the thresher in question apparently still haunts the remains of the wreck. This was definitely interesting given what the creature may possibly have gotten into but leaving to try and investigate it by herself was foolhardy. She was neither too arrogant nor too curious to rush the investigation as to the shipment that was mentioned in the letter to her simply because the opponent was not a foe of greater mind than her.

As she stood, the dark cloaked figure standing out like a lamp-post in the middle of a forest, she noticed Rikard in the distance seemingly searching for something. Without saying as much as a word she began to silently approach him, intent to inquire as to what he may be looking for and if she could lend any aid to that task as she was lacking in any purpose of her own here once she was within modest conversing range.

"Trypano?" Rikard whirled on the spot as she seemed to materialize like a black, crimson, and bone white phantasm from the darkness. His heartrate quickened for a moment. "That you?" He took a few steps forward, tentatively, trying to to make obvious any drawing he was doing... just in case.

"Indeed." She replied, the sea breeze mingling with the fabric of the cloak and the few strands of hair which seemed to hang loose from the hood.

"Have you had luck with your endeavors thus far?" She inquired, looming over the young man albeit unintentionally. Her tone spoke little of her intentions but what little that could be seen of her face looked... Tired. Not exhausted physically but weary in spirit perhaps.

Rikard glanced around and Trypano may have felt a sonic bubble descending over the pair. "Luck is... one way of putting it," Rikard replied, "though I guess it is." There was some distress evident on his face. It may have been of a different nature than hers, but it was present nonetheless.

Seeing as he prepared a sonic bubble to help isolate the conversation while it may have been prudent to move somewhere a bit more out of sight there was less issue in speaking freely here now.

"Regarding the thresher situation I've been informed that the creature still dwells nearby a wreck along the coast. One of the benefactors to this mission had written to me regarding cargo that had materials of interest to them. I am of the opinion that the thresher may have been affected by the materials that were indicated to me which is why this thing is of greater issue than a standard thresher." She notified him of her findings regarding the creature. It did seem to be that Rikard himself had happened upon some findings regarding their target potentially, hence his look of concern.

"I can assume you have found info regarding the creature? Or would it be a matter of concern aside from it?"

Rikard shook his head, all of his body language bleeding anxiety. "No. You're right. I've learned plenty." His eyes darted about. "Those 'materials of interest' are a bio-weapon of unimaginable power, or at least some of them are." He swallowed. "I met with some eeaiko." He paused for a moment, trying to decide just how much to say. "They mentioned a plague and were taking extreme precautions against it, but they were also very certain - they'd seen things, being people of the water, you know - that confirmed the plague was manmade."

The youth spent a moment nervously fixing his lapel, which had gotten flipped up at some point. He looked her right in the eyes. Gods, she was tall and creepy, but his experiences told her that she was good people nonetheless. "It was being carried on the Sant'Agata, for use against the Perrench." Finished, Rikard shrugged. "I'm telling you 'cause you don't strike me as another patriotic goon who believes imaginary lines on a map define good and bad." The fourteen-year-old rolled his eyes. "I'm right, right?"

Trypano listened close, following the details of his findings with keen interest. He held into question whether her allegiance to her country was not greater than her moral compass. He was correct to assume this though perhaps not for the reasons he might assume.

"That is correct. Even if I originally had such loyalties, not that I ever did, they would have evaporated some time ago." She turned to face the waters out past the harbor, folding her arms behind her though they still remained concealed below the cloak.

"You and I were both present for the incident in Rettan wherein the knowers made their presence known. Prior to that I had also spoken to Ahn-Dami and both aspects of Shune in the forked tower where I had first learned of the knower's existence and their shadow war with the gods on this world. Later, in an incident during the aberration-storm that took place in Ersand-Enise I as well as a select few others were temporally translocated by an unknown phenomenon. The location I had arrived was of this world's future, one set further than what even the others had arrived at." She turned to face Rikard once again, the gravity of the mood at hand much graver than even the biological weapons Rikard was faced with.

"I had not shared what I saw with many as I'm not even sure if anyone would believe me, let alone understand what it means. With the war ever on the horizon I wonder how much closer we draw to that ending." She was uncertain how much further down the rabbit hole Rikard was interested in peering. Whether or not he'd rather focus on the now and set aside matters of distant concern or whether he'd hear out what she has seen and consider their circumstance on the greater scheme of what is transpiring. With that said she stared back with her scarlet red eyes, only barely visible beyond the veil of her cloak, into his own.

"I hope I didn't need to specify but do keep the contents of what we're discussing secret, both regarding the biological weapons and the contents of my visit to the forked tower since both hold consequences for those who are found to have revealed it." A stray thought came about as she considered the matters currently on hand however, prompting her to look back out to the waters and ponder.

"Also, try not to eat any products of the sea. Depending on the nature of this "bio-weapon" you've discovered we'll need to see if it is airborne, waterborne or bloodborne in transmission first before a more formal containment procedure can be confirmed."

Rikard... was given pause, at all of it really. The food he'd eaten suddenly sat awkwardly in his stomach: a potential poison, and yet the eeaiko he'd eaten it with had been wholly in the know and taken great pains to prevent the spread of any condition. He hadn't sensed any pathogens either. That didn't make the unease fade completely, though.

In all honesty, he wasn't certain what to think. That Trypano was telling the truth as she saw it was clear, and a grim truth it appeared to be. He didn't need to know the specifics to hypothesize that some form of marhazannet was waiting in the wings. The only confounding variable was her level of sanity. She'd always been brilliant, but he had, only recently, started to become aware of how profoundly different her views on reality and morality were from... virtually anyone else's. Some of what she'd said had been corroborated. Some of it hadn't. Regardless, he decided to err on the side of belief.

"Well, if the ending is a bad one," he remarked, "then I think we oughtta change it - make sure none of that gets out, regardless of what one government or another wants." He'd heard talk of a 'miracle' in town, connected to Leon, and hadn't had the chance to explore it. He furrowed his brow in thought before glancing up at her. "Hey, do you know anything about what went on with Leon in the medical encampment?"

Trypano could see he took at least some of what she had to say in. While he was still focused on the now it was good that they were at least mildly aware of the circumstances. It would save on future discussions when it comes to catching them up to the why's behind her choices.

"While I doubt this will change much in the long run it serves no one any good to let a leftover hazardous material bring needless harm." She brought a hand up to her chin, cradling it in contemplation. "Still, another concern is how the thresher plays into the story at hand. A ship of importance shouldn't have fallen prey to a common pest so easily, lest something else was at hand here. I can only wonder if it's abnormalities and the contents of the ship are connected perhaps. There was plenty of unknowns to this tale, each new detail shining a light from a different angle on a shape only just starting to emerge.

"Sadly I was turned away from the medical encampment by a couple of the local militia. I was in the company of Taleja for a short bit before she was allowed in whilst I was denied entry. I cannot attest as to what transpired but given their primitive state of care I can only assume they performed basic magic which would have easily been mistaken for a miracle." While her tone was neutral the choice of words carried a harsh undertone towards these people. It was just a mild bit humiliating for one of her skill to be relegated to civil repair duties, like using a finely tuned astrolabe to hammer down a nail. Whilst it did build some measure of good will from the locals she knew well and true that favors done for others were oft in one ear and out the other whilst prejudices tended to cling like barnacles to the hull of one's judgement.

"Whilst I suspect that Taleja has a similar interest in the contents of the wreckage I know little else about how most others from our school are faring in this hunt for clues. You're probably the first I've been able to formally relay most of this info to."

Rikard considered. "Well, we should keep each other informed," he allowed, "arbitrary divisions or not." He nodded slowly, thinking. It was getting late and they were starting to look suspicious, standing here and exchanging information under a sonic bubble. "I agree, for what it's worth, that the animal must've ingested something that led to this, but I think we both agree that evidence trumps conjecture."

He pursed his lips. "I'm gonna try to track down Leon. I wanna figure out how he treated it and what he knows. Just... let's not be partisan. I think whatever's in there needs to be lost, and the fact that both Wolf and Serpent are trying so hard to get their hands on it makes that even clearer. " With that, he made a signal as if to start lifting the bubble.

Trypano left their conversation off with little else than a nod. She understood that they needed to proceed, further conversation better saved for when they've progressed their discoveries. She waited to see where Rikard was going since meeting and hearing what Leon had to say would be doing more than what progress she was making out her.

"I'm headed for the house," Rikard remarked offhandedly, after watching Trypano hang around like a lost puppy for a moment. "That where he'll be, and sleep is probably a good idea after that." He shrugged. "You comin'?"

"Nowhere else to be currently." She answered, following along with little prompt.

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The Hourglass Order

Tekah, Guy, Penny, Ciro: A Collaborative Episode

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A Sailor's Folly__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

O N E

Guy had spent his day at the port, performing like any other mariner would. He was pleasant if not a little short with on account of the workload he had on him. He was not afraid to use his magic to help people of the sovereign pact, speaking to them with a friendliness in their native tongue the way. He was one of them after all.

He even assisted the struggling Revidian from time to time and making friends even if they were on opposite sides. Today they were in the same boat of listening to unreasonable captains and wharf masters. His charm had a way of breaking though when he spoke to them in an accent found in northern Revidia.

He spoke to the men of Zengali about the people in ports the lazy ones and the great ones. They were relatively resistant to calling any of them great but oh were they willing to call some of them lazy and diseased. All this noted with a fake laugh and noted down for later.

He flirted and helped a few Zengali woman and he learned they were the source of information here. Gossiping was a treasured thing. It almost was comparable to the high class girls in Ipte's courtyard. And oh he learned so much more than he wanted, I'm sorry Jafiri, Nyo is just not into you apparently, he cringed at the future rejection that was sure to be the talk of the town.

But still, he learned enough, it was time for the festival. Food and drinks were to be had and Guy filled himself up after a hard day's work though the spices were a little overbearing for him but the alcohol covered for any misgivings.

Holding a bottle of wine, Guy waved off to the Sovereign pact men on the port, "Have a good night, tomorrow we earn our own tale!" Just a naive young man chasing fortune like anyone else, now he drunkenly stumbled down the port. These kind of missions were the best. Good people, good food, and most of all, straightforward. Guy headed to a ship owned by Ciro Volta.

From the rumours, it was just any other trading vessel in the larger fleet of the Sant'Agata della Compagnia Rossa. But Guy was privy to more than that. With what the main ship carried, there could be a chance that this also held dangerous cargo. No one could truly guess with Ciro since his trade routes expanded further than others. Which is exactly why Guy needed to investigate.

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The Jig is Up__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

T W O

A quick scan of the ship revealed about 10 men standing guard. On the high side for sure but nothing remarkable with what he sells at that emporium of his, Guy noted. The ship was of fine craftsmanship, he hated to admit. But again. Nothing of true note considering the company he was traveling with was a prized ship.

Guy maneuvered his way onto the ship using only the slightest alteration to his sound and covered his very being the same way a magusjaeger would. The guards on the top deck were nothing of note, just watchmen who had no talent for it. Deplorable, really, but it did make this easier. The guards of the interior were much the same, some had the Gift but were obviously untrained. Everything was proving standard. If things keep going like this, then I can investigate the encampment next.

But as he was going to start getting to any place of importance, he was met with a guard of note. No signature, highly trained. Still within bounds of possibility. Guy was confident but then he noticed a tight rotation of guards, all seemingly highly trained. Guy knew he was going to be discovered and it wasn't going to end well.

He drugged himself up with some booze in case they might just toss him into the water as a drunk and let out a signal to an ally: people shouldn't come here. There was something under this perfect façade.

He was proven correct almost immediately, in fact. It was naught but ten seconds later when he heard a voice. "Aren't you sneaky for a 'drunk'." A guard in black and silver livery strode through a door and, before Guy could turn and try to make a break for it, another was coming down the gangway behind him. Just as he'd sensed earlier, these guys were strong

There was a quick exchange in an obscure dialect of Revidian and, in his inebriated state, Guy caught only a handful of words: 'This one', 'sure' and 'target'.

Then, the second guard to arrive addressed him directly. "You don't struggle, maybe you live." They had draw to full capacity and, for each of them, that fell close to eight. Four hands reached for Guy, but an open gunport beckoned mere feet away.

Guy raised his handle of wine, sloshing about whatever was left. "And what are you doing here?!" he shot back like he had a personal grudge with the man, but upon holding the bottle to his head and squinting. "You're not Antonio," He bent forward, losing his balance from the jug above him and falling towards the gunport.

It took a second, and he almost plunged through, but a powerful kinetic grasp found Guy and he was saved from his escape.

"Looks like another drunk," said one of the guards, who was not Antonio.

The second shook his head. "Tell the boss or toss him in?"

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Fun with Revidians (Part One)__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

T H R E E

The first guard considered. "Hey you!" he shouted at Guy. "Fuck Perrence. It's green because it was coughed up by Avince. I piss on Benedict the Blessed. I piss on Arcel the Victorious. I piss on Rouis the Unready."

The other one glanced at his partner in horror for a moment before drawing back and snickering.

Guy had long since dropped his bottle, it belonged to the sea now, may it rest in pieces. "That was close," Guy seemed relieved, "Almost got a mouth full of c-" Guy was stopped by the hurl on insults and readied a kick for the man's stomach before he even got to Arcel, "Oh and maybe it's time to warm up Avince again. Maybe I'll say hi to the Doge's slut of a daughter on the way there."

The guard who was Guy's target jumped back, and the kick was only glancing at best. The two of them looked at each other. "Perrench," said the first with a nod. "And feisty," agreed the second. Then, there were footsteps from further down the gangway, where the stairs were. "Another drunk, Sebas?" asked a third guard, this one an awkwardly tall woman. The second guard shook his head. "One would think, Lucrezia, one would think."

The other guard yanked Guy up from the ground.

"But Giuseppe caught us a wriggler. He's as Perrench as they come."

Giuseppe laughed. "Even called l'Anguilla's daughter a slut."

Lucrezia snorted. "Not that she isn't." After a brief snicker, she turned to Giuseppe. "Should I fetch Simona?"

They exchanged looks and it lingered in the air for a moment. Finally, the one who seemed to be the head guard nodded. "Have her contact the boss. This one isn't who we thought might poke around, but I don't buy his little cover story. Not for a second." He leaned in and glared at Guy, incongruously smiling. "You a thief?" he asked, "A spy?" He paused. "Just a general asshole?"

Guy listened in and tried to resist but 'found' himself not enough to break away. Someone else? Noted. Potential messenger or tethered named Simona. Noted. He looked at whoever was talking to him, "Wanna take a guess?" Guy glared back at him.

He knew he wasn't in a good position, magically these 'guards' were stronger than him and they had obviously worked together. Ciro was coming now and that meant a direct encounter. Not enough was known to make a decision but at least he could count on Tekah to make sure Penny did not come here. Admitting your leader's daughter is a whore, nothing but filth here.

Lucrezia dashed off on her errand and Sebas snorted at Guy's response. "Perrench," he grunted, "That's all that really matters."

"Unlike some," Giuseppe added, "We don't equate patriotism with licking our leader's asshole clean." He scowled. "Then again, there are limits to what the Perrench brain is capable of."

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Fun with Revidians (Part Two)__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

F O U R

It was moments before Lucrezia came hustling back down. Following her was another woman: young, thin, and dark haired. She floated instead of walked, placing herself seated and leaning against a wall, fingers intertwined in her lap. "Signor Volta is on his way." She sat there, unmoving but for a blink of her eyes, and tilted her head tentatively. "You shouldn't have come here, Perrenchman. You're going to cause an international incident."

"Oh fuck you," was the only retort that Guy gave Giuseppe, gulping at seeing the floating woman come his way. With Ciro potentially being contacted by the person acting like a tethered, he also knew he couldn't use any magic around her; he'd be dead before he could finish drawing. Not that he wouldn't be dead in the current circumstances either, just another thing to watch out for.

"For drunkenly wandering onto a ship?" Guy scoffed at her, not giving anymore thought to the absurdity. Besides, he was trying to remember what he was hearing. Sudden onset inebriation was hard to just suddenly deal with, Guy already made one mistake by trying to kick one of his captors: He'd missed.

She sighed, still not moving much more than her face. "Well, I guess Ciro will decide when he gets here." There was a smile that was surprisingly easygoing. "You're probably exactly what you say you are, but this ship has valuable goods and your nationality makes things look bad, you know. "

"You know we're not supposed to call him by first name," Lucrezia murmured, shooting the other woman a look. Simona merely arched an eyebrow tiredly and turned her gaze on Guy. "What's your name anyway?" she asked in an incongruously cheery voice.

"Guy," Guy answered. He seemed increasingly nervous that he'd been caught. Having realized the situation he was in, his eyes darted around from person and person, sweat building as it began to dawn on him how truly fucked he was.

"That's a nice name," she remarked, "simple." She smiled and regarded him. "What were you doing here, Guy, really." The smile fell away into a sort of sadness. "We're going to find out either way - it's our job - but we can do it now without any unpleasantness, I promise on my honour."

Then, from outside, came the sounds of movement and voices, difficult to make out clearly but very much present. "That'd be the boss," Sebas warned, crossing his arms.

"Sure got here quick," Giuseppe remarked.

"He makes it down those stairs and we can't play nice anymore," Sebas confirmed.

"Just fuckin' tell us, man?" That was Lucrezia. "You can keep all your fingers."

Could their hesitation be true? They're guards and their response was reasonable. Bringing down their client though? Not really proper for just a drunk unless Ciro had them specifically ordered to do so if it was Perrench or as a general rule and they were just covering that.

Guy made his split second moment to accept he was going to meet Ciro, fingers be damned. The information had already reached Tekah, even if it was only a drop of what was really going on.

He hesitated and looked somewhat ashamed, he had his reason on his mind but didn't say anything. Though he did clenched his hands when Lucrezia threatened his fingers; he needed those.

---

---

The Boss__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

F I V E

Simona still had not moved one iota. She sighed. "Well, I tried." With that, dangling like a puppet, she lifted from the ground and began floating away. From the stairs came footsteps. Then, she was out of sight. "Cugina," said a voice that Guy knew. "Padrone," came the response.

Then came Ciro Volta. He entered the room without pretense, pulled up a stool, and sat across from Guy. "Lots of Guys in Perrence," he remarked. "Wasn't sure if it'd be you."

"Where do you want me to start, boss?" It was Sebas, but Ciro held up a hand. "No need for that, amico." the youth smiled. "This man is known to me. I'm sure he has a good explanation." In truth, the Revidian looked almost... hurt. "Right?" entreated his eyes.

And there he was, Ciro Volta. The man Guy had come to do a light investigation on and ended being captured for. On some levels, he respected Ciro's level preparation, it was professional. On the other hand, Guy was immensely suspicious of Ciro.

Not a lot of Volta left in Revidia, Guy thought for a moment but held off the drunken remark. "I do have a reason. I had too much wine with an Eskandr twice my size and now I am here." He said not with a smile but more of an inebriated acknowledgement that he had at least won that drinking contest.

Ciro nodded, taking it in and - perhaps? - understanding. He clasped his hands at the small of his back and pivoted to stand in profile. He twisted to glance at Guy. "Why here?" he asked, eyes darting over to Giuseppe, who loomed above him.

"Why? Probably just looking for a place to piss and then I saw your ship," Guy said simply, though he went to no effort to show any shame in his voice.

---

---

A Royal Audience__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

S I X

Meanwhile, a good ways away, Penny was busy... running. She was dressed in pants and a long loose shirt that made her look like a man but also concealed the very slight bulge of her belly. Her wrists, shoulders, and leg burned with exertion. Her lungs heaved, and she'd have been well off the pace were it not for a very risky - and ultimately - successful play with a catapult. Brother Hodari was just enough of a Sovereign Pact loyalist, perhaps, to let it by. She hustled along, on the leg of the race closest to the docks, spotting the St. Elmo's Fyre and Ciro's ship - the Coure Volante - in the distance. They were no concerns of hers, however.

Somewhere else, an Eeaiko girl was hurling herself through grey space to tell the one person she believed to help, Penny! Upon spotting the princess, Tekah disappeared into the void again to show up a few feet away from her, "Pweencess! We need yoor help!" Tekah asked, "Paup- Guy, hes been ceptoored!" She hopped up and down, nervously pointing off to wherever Guy had been taken.

Penny swerved around the eeaiko as the last second to avoid a collision, stumbling to a stop and whirling. And this is my problem... why? the Perrenchwoman found herself thinking. Already, she could see the other racers catching up to her. "Ugh!" she huffed, "Can you not see that I'm doing something? Did he get in trouble with the city guard or whatever?"

"He's et Ceero's sheep. A laut auf guards!" Tekah kept looking back over to where Guy was, every moment wasted made her more jumpy, "He sent me a deestress noise, he waunts help," Tekah's eyes looked so hopefully that the princess that Guy talked about would come save her father.

They were passing her now. Penny heaved a greatly vexed sigh. "You have a long sensing range, right?" Restlessly, she swung halfway forward on her crutches before letting herself fall back onto her foot. "Are they hurting him?" She looked directly at Tekah with a furrowed brow.

Anxiety practically bled from Tekah as Penny just seemed uninterested in her father's plights. "Eye-" Tekah reached out with her senses, like little drops in the water until she found paupaup. "-He's been beeten aup! End reel bedly" Tekah added more to her findings. Truthfully it was just a broken rib but it looked like it hurt!

"Goddammit!" Penny cursed, as more runners passed her. She bit her lower lip in frustration. Always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong! In truth, he'd betrayed her, and in a way that would likely be disastrous for her future. His loyalty wasn't at all to her, but it was her fault for starting to think that it had been before he'd proven conclusively otherwise. Guy had always and would always serve the crown, not any individual member of the royal family.

It still hurt, but she understood it, and there was more at play. If he was tortured and outed as a Perrench operative, the Revidians could use this as ammunition and, as friendly as Ciro often was, Penny knew that he was calculating as well. A merchant of his stature had to be. He would press his advantage. She nodded. "Let's go save him. Lead the way, Tekah."

Tekah quite literally jumped into action, "Ookey! Thees wey your hyness," Tekah blinked into greyspace and came back out maybe 20 feet away, waving her hands for Penny to follow.

Since she was out of the race anyhow, Penny had no qualms about using kinetic magic to boost her movement. She quickly gave chase and it was not long before they found themselves within sensing range of the ship. There, however, she called out for the eeaiko to hold up. She'd been thinking as she ran - as much as a person could think, anyhow - and she'd realized something: If Ciro was likely to present Guy as a spy caught snooping, which he was, Penny would need something in her back pocket to counter the accusations. She'd had an idea: a wonderfully awful idea.

---

---

The Gloves Come Off__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

S E V E N

Ciro nodded at Sebas, who backhanded Guy across the face. It drew momentary stars in his vision, but he'd been hit harder before. "That was a lie," Ciro stated matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms over his chest momentarily. "Each time you lie or disrespect me, it'll get worse." There was a pause where one could hear only breathing, the creaking timbers of the ship, and the sounds of lapping water. "Again, I ask you: why here?"

His vision blurred but it came back to a drunken focus, only smarting for a moment. He didn't spit out any drool, that would be disrespectful "Clear cut method," Guy said, rolling his jaw, "If only the fellow over here could hit harder than a seagull," Guy smugly smirked at the man that hit him before turning back to Ciro.

"You're right, I was dishonest," Guy glanced away, "I wasn't probably looking for a place to piss, I was coming to piss on your ship," he said in a 'matter of fact' tone.

"Would you like him to?" Ciro replied to the first query. "I'd prefer not. I just want answers so that I can protect my family's business, and you're not giving them."

Guy's response did not draw a reaction from Ciro. "So it is partisan." He nodded at Sebas, who wound up and delivered a kinetically-enhanced fist into his gut, so as not to break the jaw he'd need for speaking. Instead, it broke a rib and drove every bit of air from Guy. Something inside of him gave way. It was sudden and it hurt badly.

"Who sent you?" Ciro remarked coldly.

Guy began to cough and strain under his broken rib.They always go for the ribs, Guy thought, it was the most effective way to put damage on someone without showing it to others. Through the pain, he glared at Ciro, "I was sent by no one and I came-" he heaved in a labored breath, "-by my own faculties, I just don't like you."

Ciro shook his head. "Well, it's mutual now." He scowled. "I wanted to trust you, even though you were Perrench. I thought you were a fellow mariner and you might be an okay guy, but breaking into my ship?" He snorted. "I'm not stupid, or at least not as stupid as you. You didn't come here just to piss me off." His eyes narrowed. "Not a guy like you. You're either a thief or a government spook, aren't you?"

---

---

Exuding Confidence__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

E I G H T

Meanwhile, on the docks, Penny had caught up to the eeaiko, who looked like every moment not rushing towards Guy was torture for her. "Tekah!" she prodded. "Tekah, calm down. I have a plan." She gabbed the girl - oh, she looked about thirteen or so - by the shoulders. "They're probably going to accuse him of something political. We need ammunition of our own. Do you understand?" Penny was already reaching into a pouch at her waist as she spoke.

Tekah was about to pull away, how could she calm herself when not only was Guy captured but he also gave the signal to not go and she was doing the exact opposite. But still she listened to Penny like she had been trained to do so. Her eyes lit up and she vigorously shook her head. A moment later she was gone with money to convince some people of just who wronged who here. She knew the general idea and now she just had to find the right people. Et waus teeme faur Sooper Tekah, she bolstered her confidence with a healthy dash of naivete.

"Tekah!" Penny shouted, "Remember, a Perrench sailor just walking along the docks and they saw him get kidnapped by people on that ship! Don't overload them with information! Give me a pinch signal when it's done!"

Penny watched her run and then the ship was there: just out of auditory range. She hurried forward, arms and leg aching despite all of the chemical magic she'd pumped into herself to offset it. Soon, she was within easy sight, and she slowed to a pace where she could exude confidence instead of urgency.

From one 'reputable' person, to the next, little Tekah scrounged up a handful of people who knew the truth: that those filthy pasta munchers had hauled up a good Perrench mariner for some reason. It was light work for the social prowess of Sooper Tekah.

She sent out a pinch and sensed patiently for Penny, all her hope residing on a one legged pregnant princess that she had been told is amazing and kind and every other good adjective.

---

---

Here Comes the Pain__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

N I N E

Sebas raised a hand to strike him again, but Ciro shook his head and looked expectantly at the Perrenchman. If he was reaching, if he wasn't sure, he didn't show it.

"I'm no thief and when the day comes, I will be a soldier much like any Perrenchman," Guy paused, "I came to piss you off because I carry some disdian for you. I need no more reason, I just got too drunk and ended up acting upon unsightly impulses." The fight Guy had been holding until now seemed to have wound down now.

Ciro scrunched up his nose. He thought. Then, he laughed. "Ah!" he laughed. "Ah haha!" He shook his head and the mirth died quickly. "It's Salomé, isn't it." His eyes narrowed. "You'll never have her," he crowed. "She's a free woman and she chose me." He laughed again, and shook his head. "And to think that I thought it was something more." He snorted, turning to Lucrezia. "Give him the treatment and let him go." Ciro glanced at Guy again, rolled his eyes, and turned to start walking away.

He had kept his story withheld but consistent as someone should when being interrogated. He thought it was the right way to go. If he could clear suspicions of him being a spy then any humility was worth it.

That may have been true a month ago or even a few hours ago when he was not so intoxicated but he found that laugh to be ever so demeaning. Maybe his pride had grown since he had arrived in Ersand'Enise, but he ended up scowling at Ciro, clenching his fists. He could not strike him; he had not gone mad.

Ciro began walking but, then, he stopped. He stiffened. Then, he ran up the stairs, speaking rapidly in Revidian. Sebas began using binding on Guy and his own knuckles. Giuseppe and Lucrezia moved in, the former with a sack and the latter with some scary chemical magic building up and almost ready to unleash.

His body was so willing to accept any bit of binding. But, no, Guy was not willing to accept a moment of reprieve from any of Ciro's men. He staunchly rejected the binding with his own mana and could only brace his own brain for whatever chemical magic was to come for him. His favorite magic was to mess with someone's mind, after all. But even he knew that he was not at whatever that level was.

Resist, make it messy, fragment yourself and piece it back together. Resist.

Roughly, the bag was shoved over Guy's head and hands were laid upon his temples. "Stay the fuck still!" shouted one of the guards. "Hold his godsdamned legs!" he commanded the others.

Meanwhile, Guy could feel his thoughts begin to go hazy, but there was no missing the voice of the person who had caused all of this panic: the person who was just outside! He only had to hold out a little bit longer...

---

---

The Cavalry has Arrived__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

T E N

Penny stood at the bottom of the gangplank, looking up at the Revidian ship. Filthy fucking pasta munchers is right. She scowled. I can smell the cheap olive oil and duplicitousness from here. A trio of guards came rushing down the gangplank and she cleared her throat. "We've come to speak to the owner of this... 'ship'." She wrinkled her nose.

The guards clumsily blocked her way. "You can't be here, ma'am!" cried one. "We're very sorry!" added another. "Did you need any help?" inquired the third, her eyes going significantly to the empty side of Penny's skirts. "Wait!" the first exclaimed in Revidian. "She said 'we', there are more."

Penny regarded them with disdain, the way one might a weed in her garden. "We are the crown of Perrence, Penelope of Relouse. You will part," she commanded, "NOW."

They exchanged panicked glances and started to but did not go all of the way. "You will part or we shall part you," she growled. "We will speak with the owner of this ship and our countryman he has taken hostage and is torturing." She had received Tekah's message. It was time to set things in motion.

Tekah held some Festival food and was joining the spectacle of the scene. She knew she had a role to play as another person to testify their story. But even more than that, the eeaiko found herself being encouraged by Penny's powerful display. This was what Royalty was, what she had been told it was.

Guy, for his part, struggled more than ever once he heard Penny's voice. She shouldn't have been here, but he adapted to the new situation, spitting at the guards before the bag went over and kicking them once it was on. Like a very angry animal he was slowly being restrained. He had resisted and resisted with his own chemical magic but it had proven ineffective. But there was something that always proved 'shocking' for an internal mage. Bracing himself for the a zap, Guy repulsed the chemical magic being enacted on him and maybe zapping a few others that seemed to just love holding him oh so tightly.

If he hadn't have had specific training for this, if he hadn't been shocked as a youth at the Ecole Militaire, he probably would've blacked out. Nonetheless, Guy jerked and spasmed, losing control over his muscles and letting out a cry of pain through grinding teeth.

He was not alone, however. The woman's hands jerked back from his temples and he could hear a crash as she hit the ground, even if he could not see it through the sack. The other two guards, less affected, reeled momentarily.

Hesitantly, another set of guards parted, and Penny marched up the gangplank, noting a sudden spike in energy from an area near the back of the ship. It was sonic. She snorted. She couldn't prove it, but somebody had just dropped a bubble. As subtle as your shitty wines, she remarked inwardly, reaching the top over their protestations.

"Please, ma'am, he's coming!"

"If we could just ask you to wait here!"

"This is private property."

Penny whirled on the last one. "Your accent," she observed. "You're Arsican."

"I... yes?"

"Then you are our property. Make way." They had a tethered or some other interferer, trying to mask their sordid activities my infusing the area with ambient energies. Still, she could feel Guy fighting them. She just had to reach him!

---

---

I Love it when a Plan Comes Together!__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

E L E V E N

Then, Ciro was there. "Ah, Penelope, what can I do for you?" he inquired, placing himself directly in her path, hands clasped behind her back and a very patient smile straining his features.

Down in the hold, there were sudden shouts in Revidian. The sack was ripped free of Guy's head, his wrists were roughly unbound, and he was shoved to his feet. Lucrezia was just starting to sit up, twitchy and groggy, and she did not even have the wherewithal to glare at him. Sebas and Giuseppe stood to either side of him, brimming with energy. "On your feet, frog," the former snarled. "You could've made this easy," sniped Giuseppe, "but you just had to be some kind of hero."

"Get moving," grated a rather toasty Lucrezia, rising painfully to her feet, and Guy hadn't much choice in the matter, but it was clear that they had failed! He had bought himself enough time and they'd run out of it. There'd be no memory wipe and no professions of innocence, but then came the healing, from somewhere else entirely, and it was powerful, bullying through Guy's defenses against it.

"Ah, Ciro Volta," Penny replied. "I thought I smelled sweat and baccalà." She knit her fingers in front of herself, coming to a stop, and stood on her tiptoes, peering over his shoulder in the direction of the stairs down to the hold. "Kindly release my poor drunken friend?" she chirped in an voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "This fucking instant," she added.

Guy was never shy to feel successful. He had his memories, he had even gotten some licks in and then he'd even come away with some injuries to support a claim against them. How refreshing did this moment feel after getting roughed up!

A bit too refreshing, even, as he felt his bones stitch together and the blood vessels reformed. No resistance could be had and he could guess where it was from. I just knew she'd be the problem, Guy thought to himself as he looked to Sebas and croaked at him.

Just a little bit more before you are off this wretched ship, he thought to himself. The moonlight was coming into view and the healing was done. Did they think so low of him that he wouldn't hurt himself again?

A metal lantern was blasted into Guy's ribs, landing where it had fractured before, breaking that poor, poor rib all over again. No cough was to be had but there was a croak - this time not intentional.

Ciro furrowed his brow, meanwhile, and took a step back, eyes widening in feigned surprise. "Such language from a future queen," he replied to one who was clearly not in line for the throne. "You've must truly believe I've done something reprehensible to deserve that." He bowed his head graciously. "I apologize for appearances, but I assure you this is not the case. Your friend," he continued with a regretful look, "drunkenly broke onto my ship, which is something my entire crew can attest to." He shook his head placatingly, even as Penny heard footsteps coming from the stairs. "Now, I know that he's no sort of spy for your government or master criminal, but he's wreaked a good deal of havoc and we're still taking inventory. I'm happy to return him in exchange for your assurances that this matter will be fairly arbitrated in a public court of law and appropriate restitution levied."

The oily Revidian was speaking in his silver-tongued manner, but Penny had tuned him out roughly halfway through the monologue. She felt Guy hurt himself. Likely, he was building a counter-case for damages or perhaps they had healed any injuries done to him. She decided to assist him.

"As you can see," Ciro concluded, gesturing towards the door with his hand, "and I wish I could say the same for my ship and crew, he is completely unharmed."

Swelling her energies, Penny reached out with the Gift and unleashed them in the form of a brutal smack across the cheek. Guy's head snapped around, his lip split, and his nose began to bleed. Giuseppe, Lucrezia, and Sebas tried desperately to restrain him from stumbling out into Penny's and Ciro's sight.

Guy had not seen the smack coming, and it was so much worse than what Sebas had done. That's a real hit, Sebas. And for some forsaken reason he felt like he deserved it. The door was right there and what better a show of injuries to make it seem like he was beaten and tossed into view! All he needed was his sweat and some chemical magic. He was slick as the frog they called him, slipping out of their hands into view of the others. He protected nothing on the way to the ground, letting his face truly smash for the sake of performance.

Guy came stumbling out of the doorway, a bloody mess, and smashed into the ground facefirst, chipping a tooth in the process. Penny's eyes widened in horror and she took an 'involuntary' step in her countryman's direction. Then, however, they narrowed. "Is this some kind of sick joke!?" She whirled on Ciro, who did nothing to cover his surprise.

"Is it!?" she demanded, and he swallowed in discomfort. It lasted only a second, however. "I..." He cleared his throat, glaring at the trio of guards in whose charge the Perrenchman had been left. "Giuseppe, Sebas, Lucrezia!" he roared, "Explain yourselves! This instant!"

---

---

Crossing a Line__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

T W E L V E

They looked confused and then it was Sebas who spoke. "I'm sorry, padrone!" He nearly doubled over in bowing. "He tried to attack Lucrezia! He grabbed her breasts and was about to..."

Lucrezia nodded, interjecting "It's true," she wept, holding herself tightly. "While the others were gone, he slipped his ties and hit me with a magnetic spell to stun me." Indeed, one could still feel the heightened magnetic energies in her. One could see how her hair stood up. She sniffed. "I'm sorry, Padrone. Then he..." She swallowed and looked down and away.

"We intervened as soon as we could," assured Giuseppe. "We pulled him off. He didn't get to do anything too..." He grimaced. Lucrezia cried.

Ciro turned to Penny, and now he was angry. "Well then, your majesty, it feels as if this is a little more complex then you might've assumed." He stalked forward. "Not only did your drunken idiot of a countryman break onto my ship. He tried to force himself on a valued member of my crew!" He shook his head and snorted indignantly. "I'd say the very least he deserves is a split lip. I think I shall demand criminal penalties in a court of law. I think I shall ask you to leave. This. Fucking. Instant."

Penny's eyes narrowed. "And when did he do this to you?" she asked, shooting a look of apprehension Guy's way.

"A few minutes ago," Lucrezia replied, wiping away some of her tears. "I defended myself," she answered defiantly.

Penny nodded. "I see," she remarked. "And what do you have to say for yourself, sailor?" She regarded her countryman neutrally.

Guy started to rise from the deck, blood dripping from his nose. It was a good performance, he thought. But how quick the three revidians were to leverage false claims against him!

They were utterly vile, enough for Guy to yell out, "Enough with your accusation! I laid no hand on her breasts!" Guy seemed riled. "I merely defended myself when she had grasped my head and sought to use the magic of Eshiran on my consciousness! I made no pass at that wench."

Penny nodded. "As any reasonable person might suspect." She turned back to Ciro. "If this happened a few minutes ago, then why were they beating him now? Why are his wounds fresh, especially that one in his midsection?"

"You still persist, splitting hairs in light of a mountain of evidence?"

She did not back away from Ciro's display. "Evidence," she snorted. "That's a principle. Isn't it. So, testimony alone should decide his innocence or guilt?"

"That is generally the way it's done," the Revidian replied coolly. Was there a hint of smugness to it? Surely not! He was angry on behalf of his valued crew member.

---

---

Weight of Evidence (Part One)__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

T H I R T E E N

Penny nodded again, thoughtfully. "Alright then," she agreed, hands settling on her crutches before she took a step. "So then I have a hypothesis," she began, "If you'll be so kind as to allow me to speak."

Ciro smiled tightly and gestured for her to go ahead.

"Your undisciplined crew, having been stuck in port for weeks, have been drinking. Sailors drink, after all, far too much, sometimes. Likely, my countryman was drunk as well."

"Oh, most certainly," Ciro responded.

Penny began to pace, daring anybody to block her way. "But for someone who seems so greatly fond of due process, you've failed to ask the most important question of all, Monsieur Volta. Do you know what that is?"

"I think I've asked all the pertinent ones, but clearly, you disagree."

"You're not the least bit curious as to why I've shown up here?"

"It's patently obvious that you two are in cahoots."

"Wrong as usual, Monsieur Volta." She shook her head. "Your drunken crew assaulted my drunken countryman while he was wandering about the docks because they were bored and ready to make poor decisions. They took it too far and beat him severely and more or less had to drag him up the stairs when he, clearly in a stupor, would not cooperate." She turned on her heel and stopped, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Now, these three are inventing a vile and ridiculous fiction to cover for their actions so that you don't discipline them." Much as she wanted to punch the Revidian in his smug little face, there would be a place and a time for that later. For now, she needed to offer him a way out.

"Your dedication to your crew is admirable," she declared. "And it must be, for you to sometimes share the same space, to take each others lives in your hands, for months on end." She shook her head. "But it is misplaced, sir."

Ciro's eyes narrowed, but he was thinking. "And what makes you think I'd believe any of this over the word of my own crew: people, as you put it, who've held my very life in their hands?"

Penny sighed. "Remember how I asked you why I was here?"

He did not reply, his face hard and stony.

"I was running in that footrace, mostly for the great irony of it, when I saw a pair of young dockworkers come running from the direction of your ship. As I was not going to win anyway, for Oraff has clearly not equipped me to do so, I asked them what had unsettled them so and they told me everything."

Upon hearing the theory that was underplay, Guy decided to add onto it. "It's true," he wiped the blood from his mouth, "I had been walking by this port, and was assailed by these men. They threw insults not only at me but said they piss on Perrence and Rouis themselves." His eyes were filled with hate at the man for poking fun at their Royalty. "I returned the harsh comments in kind and then after they grabbed me with magic and knocked the bottle from my hands," he pointed to the water where a bottle of wine still floated.

"You lie!" Ciro exclaimed, for he knew the truth. His crew had assaulted only an invader.

"He does not, sir." Penny shook her head. "And neither do I. In fact, I have heard all about your crew's misdeeds from three perfectly neutral locals who corroborate his story and will swear by their testimony. Your people assaulted him and dragged him onto the ship and I had a suspicion it was Guy based on their description. Now, it is confirmed." She tilted her head, eyes narrowed. "Now, didn't you say that this man's guilt or innocence -" she gestured in his direction. "should be determined by weight of testimony?"

"These are decent disciplined people!" Ciro exclaimed. "They wouldn't-"

"Oh, but they did, sir." Penny was implacable. "They did and now they're trying to lie to the both of us." She took a deep breath and released. "Look: I know you're a decent fellow and just trying to look out for your people, but you're only digging your hole deeper."

"These witnesses of yours: where are they?" Ciro inquired. "Hmm?"

---

---

Weight of Evidence (Part Two)__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

F O U R T E E N

Penny pointed in the direction of a trio of figures in the near distance. She signaled Tekah to be ready for some form of sneak attack, for she did not trust Ciro an inch further than she might throw him. "They shall remain safely anonymous until their testimony is required in a public court of law, was it?"

Ciro broke, at that moment, and she knew it. "Is that truly necessary? Is it truly worth the time and the gossip that will surely come?" He shot an apologetic glance at Lucrezia. "They've all agreed your scofflaw of a countryman did not do anything... worse to her, and she does appear to have taken her satisfaction of him."

Penny's eyes narrowed. "He didn't touch her," she maintained, "but I admit that I cannot prove that beyond knowing him the way that you know your crew." She nodded thoughtfully. "What I can make quite publicly clear in that court is how they dragged him onto the ship and assaulted him." He had tried to place her on the back foot, but Penny had no such thing, and now he was on it instead. Still, she could not make obvious that a neutral outcome was her win condition. She had to make him squirm a bit more.

"And so then what, Penny?" Ciro scoffed. "We drag each other through the mud over this trivial matter?"

"I do not think it trivial," she rejoined, implacable in voice and demeanour.

"We could start a war over this!" he declared, incredulous. "For Dami's sake!"

"We could."

Ciro's eyes narrowed and something clicked behind his eyes. "Get off my ship," he replied, gesturing at Guy. "Take him and get off my ship." He knew now that was all she had ever wanted from this and she had outmaneuvered him, plain and simple: she and this Perrench minion, who he was now more certain than ever was a government spy. Alas, he could not prove the assertion more than she could 'prove' her false claim. "And don't return." It was time to cut his losses. They were minimal.

Penny smiled and curtsied "As you wish, Padrone." She inclined her head in Guy's direction and took a few steps toward him, already reaching out to heal him. "Come now, my esteemed subject, let me see to that. Let us leave."

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A Loyal Soldier__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

F I F T E E N

Guy was quiet for the most part. He had no ability in the realm of theatrical politics nor the ability to stand next to princess's magnificent performance. "Thank you, your highness," Guy would normally give a bow but his ribs had taken enough abuse and let his humbleness show with a bow of the head instead.

Walking off the ship he made no remarks at Ciro, he just seemed so very relieved to have made it out with his memories and not be acclaimed as a savage lecher. But so many other thoughts weighed on his heart. Most he could not broach right now nor did he want to but for one thing he wanted to do so.

It was a blessing that Tekah didn't listen and even more so that Penny had came. There was a part of Guy that held more guilt that it should have for involving someone of Penny's standing into his reckless mistake. It was a guilt that he couldn't place but he felt a sting much the same as from a letter not too long ago.

As they moved cleanly out of range, he placed a sonic bubble, "Do not be alarmed, Ciro had a tethered on board and I do not know of her abilities but she was very strong." His eyes made no note of the ship anymore as they had long moved past it and he could feel Tekah tugging on him from greyspace, always the nervous girl, even as an egg.

He straightened up to give her a proper thanks the way he should to royalty, "Your Highness, I give my most humble thanks to you, Pen-" there was that sting again. It was the moment he began to understand it. His stance shifted, and he seemed much more normal, "Thank you, Penny. I know I am not deserved of your help for many reasons." The feeling sat with him for another moment, "I have not proven myself nor may you want me, but I promise on my name that when you call on me, I will answer only you," Guy placed his hand over his heart and gave a deep bow to Penelope of Relouse, Princess of Perrence.

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Summary__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

Z E R O

After hanging out with some other parties, Guy decides to investigate Ciro Volta's ship, the Coure Volante, which has been stuck in Zengali since the troubles with the White Thresher really kicked off a couple of weeks ago. When he tries to sneak in, however, he finds much tighter security than expected, even for a ship of such value. Ultimately, Guy is caught, and decides to play the part of a drunk but, once the guards bring in Ciro himself, the merchant doesn't buy it and begins a rather unplesant interrogation. Guy is able to get a signal off to Tekah, who uses her extended range to find Penny and beg the Perrench royal for her help. Despite her recently-acquired distaste for Guy after his personal betrayal in reporting her unplanned pregnancy to the crown, she is guilted into helping and comes up with a devious, layered plan that Tekah helps her implement.

Guy, holding out against the interrogation, is quickly healed when Penny appears and the Revidians panic. Ciro calmly stalls her on deck, giving his guards time to bring up a pristine-looking Guy, who had broken onto the ship but not been harmed despite his bad faith actions. However, Guy manages to reinjure himself and Penny assists with a telekinetic smack. When he stumbles out on deck, battered, Ciro's attempt to gain concessions from the Perrench fails momentarily. However, his crew members make up a nasty lie about Guy having tried to assault a female member of the guard, and Ciro once again presses his case, with Penny and him agreeing that witness testimony should hold the most weight.

This falls apart in the face of the Perrench master plan, when the princess debunks much of his story as fabrication and puts forward the alternative, backed by the accounts of 'neutral witnesses' - in reality, the unknown Tekah and some dockworkers she had paid to fabricate a story about the drunken Revidians jumping Guy, hauling him onto their ship, and then trying to cover up their crime. He supports this with some circumstantial evidence and, when it becomes clear that Penny is willing to take this minor incident all the way, Ciro backs down. In the end, Penny and Guy walk away to eventually meet back up with Tekah, their score settled by Penny's slap, Guy's apology, and a newfound mutual respect.

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The Hourglass Order

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T H E M Y S T E R I O U S G E N T L E M A N

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Morning in Belleville__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

It was early morning in Belleville. The ragged shadows of rooftops stretched like a serrated edge across the city below the city. Many were still sleeping at this hour, but enough were up and already moving about. The lucky few lined up at the gates of the White Walled City, presenting their identification papers to the century and being - mostly - ushered through. Even fewer were those who went the other way. Yet, among them, was a yasoi gentleman. Was he a bloodchild? It was difficult to tell…

The first step on his journey was the Pelova neighborhood, formerly referred to as Moli’s Emporium. Although for the most part, it had been utilized as an alternative to the student dormitories, there were some wealthier individuals who had the fortune to live here. Some of those very people who had been involved in an altercation with the rampaging students from the City of the Bells found a knock at their door in the hours of Shiin. Many regarded the gentleman warily, given recent events, but none turned him away, nor did they refuse the words he bore. With those words, came reassurance, stipends and gifts. For every home he entered, he made sure to leave an apple behind. `

It was not so very long before he made his way to the next destination, his pack lighter thanks to his generosity and goodwill. The next stop was a quaint one, a buudvuud shoppe that had just started to fire up the ovens, and the smell was a delectable one. A rather large order was placed and, as the delicacies were hand crafted, the Gentleman spread word and arrived at his gathering point. A great yew tree stood there, its branches ancient and gnarled. It had been there and been ancient for as long as any alive could remember.

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Sermon Under the Tree__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

More and more people arrived as cloth and table were arranged and set up beneath it, and what began as a small gathering soon became a crowd of people that threatened to spill out onto the road. So many had gathered in an impromptu manner that it could not help but evoke some great mette’stiroi of years past. They supped, and drank, and danced, and laughed, and the painful memories of yesterday were replaced with a most pleasant warning, as the mysterious gentleman spoke to all. Most of all, he drew the attention of the freshly-arrived youngsters who knew little Avincean but much hunger.

“Seth’sil joith wes elai luum ciin laz’yii?” the man asked the gathering. For a brief moment, the general chatter stopped as they thought and considered the question. An older yasoi lady who’d brought her two grandchildren to the gathering chirped up first, giving a lighthearted remark “Ap’ya liin doam’elar, luuca?” she asked, and it elicited a small chuckle from most. The next response was different, and somber. A young lady, maybe 7 or 8 spoke next: “Tuulet soam pa haxé duul hal’oft…” and a similar silence to when the question was first asked hung over everyone for a moment. One of the grandchildren turned to the elder that had spoken first, and said something that resonated with many of the crowd.

“Alac soam hal’oft.” and the gathering was silenced once again, until the Gentleman presented the young lad with a crisp apple he pulled from his satchel, and spoke once more. “Pa yax oft,” came the reply, which once again started the murmurs.

“Sen’oft?” questioned one wondering child.

“Sac’eleiz lulus’oft,” snorted a man who might’ve been his father.

But then an elder spoke. She was easily a hundred years old - born before the bad times - and her gravelly voice somehow cut through the din. “Dii.” She shook her wizened head. “Hal’oft.” Her eyes rose to meet the Gentleman’s. Were they evaluative? Expectant? Hopeful? It was hard to tell.

He nodded at the elder, and began to speak once more. Some had forgotten who they were, the history of these lands and the people that once inhabited them, but some still remembered. They had left signs, after all, such as the ancient yew tree that they sat and conversed beneath. A gift from Ashilai’zenet’stiran, the first of a venerable institution that had been stolen and appropriated by those who lay claim to all within the white walls. The very same walls that held a name that was familiar to all who sat and ate, for the name of the city was written in the very tongue they spoke this day.

It was a story that they all should’ve known. Yet, it had been pointedly buried by the huusoi. For all of the Gentleman’s charm and knowledgeability, he might’ve sounded like a charlatan were it not for that tenuous thread of a few elders who’d been around before the Southern yasoi had become a broken people: who’d been around to learn these histories. Now, however, this piece of yasoi identity was restored. Now, however, these people left the gathering with a sense of purpose and belonging that they had been without when they entered. Each also left with an apple, for one must nourish the body as well as the heart and mind.

There was a rumbling disquiet, however, that his words had prompted amongst those gathered. From beyond the white walls of the city that had once been theirs had violence descended on the people of Mudville, in what seemed like an inevitable, continuous occasion. Moli’s Emporium had not sated the appetite for blood that yanii seemed to hold, and they’d struck again. A homegrown criminal association of yasoi named the Cola Brothers had been annihilated last night, and more than just them had been affected. Students of the school swung the hammer of Damy around as easily as breathing and with as little thought. Yanii or yasoi, it was once again left to the people of Mudville to pick up the pieces, but they tired of being nothing more than victims. How they tired of it! It was in this context that a handful came to him at the end. It was in this spirit that they entreated him to visit the new scar wrought upon their home.

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The Last Drop of Cola__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

It might’ve been an hour hence, when he stood there beneath a light drizzle, taking in the ruins. This was something that was clear. This was something that they should feel anger towards. “Why are you here?” a voice came from behind him, and he turned. He recognized a young woman from the gathering. A man, perhaps a few years her senior, stood beside her and one could guess that they were brother and sister.

“It’s a shame, luuca?” The Gentleman spoke with an incongruous calm, not the strong emotions that the sight should have elicited. He shook his head

“Plenty is,” grunted the man, crossing his arms as he surveyed the wreckage.

A silence sat over them for a minute or two, before he spoke again. Whether it was contemplation or empathy was difficult to distinguish.“Heavy is the hand that has never sown a field. We are killed simply for the crime of being small.” He spoke almost as if he was reciting poetry.

“We were big,” replied the woman. “Least people thought we were.” She shook her head. “Put a target on us, so we tried to make a buck off it. Better than nothin’.” She looked out over the wreckage, a tightness taking hold of her face. If she’d cried any tears, she’d cried them already.

“Big in the pond of Mudville. Small in the ocean of the White Walls.” he gestured toward the city that loomed large over Mudville with a tinge of disdain. “Every time we play house with them, they knock it down. They didn’t care if you took the boy, they saw a chance to practice a trade they know all too well: violence.”

The man with the sword seemed a bit less inclined than his sister to simply go along with the crafted narrative. “As did we.” He scowled, and his face felt unreadable. “Just messed with a bigger fish. There’s always a bigger fish.”

The Gentleman once again shook his head and smiled sympathetically at the man, procuring two apples from his bag “The difference is…” he paused for a moment, tossing the fruit to the siblings. “You did it for profit. They did it for fun.”

The siblings looked at each other. “Maybe,” the man allowed. “But does it really fucking matter?” asked the woman. “They killed us. I don't care who's right or wrong at this point, but they killed my brothers, my friends, and my…” her face tightened up. “My sister,” she managed to choke out. “They slaughtered us like goddamned animals.”

The man rested a hand on the hill of his sword. “They were working with the resistance,” he spat, “like you…luuca?”

The Gentleman paused. Conviction and confidence took his face as they spoke. “It does matter, because there is still good in this world. There are still those who care about justice, of righting wrongs done, no matter how recent.” he paused, turning to Arsii next. “Jaadas. For the souls of your kin who were wrongfully condemned.”

Cherii narrowed her eyes. “Juuras, for their deaths.”

“Upon those who committed the act,” intoned Arsii.

“Tan’daxii. For the people we can still save from this fate.”

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The Best Revenge__ ____ ___ __ __ _ _

“You're one of them, then.” Arsii pursed his lips.

“I'll expand on my original question,” his sister continued, “that you haven't answered yet. Why are you here and what do you want?”

The Gentleman smiled at the pair, earnestly this time. They were sharp, even in the throes of grief. “The answer… is hopefully the same as you. The end of the resistance, and the cowards who support them from behind the walls that should rightfully be ours.”

“You’re brave to operate here,” Cherii observed.

“I wasn’t always. You have to be, around these people.”

Arsii made a sour face and spat. “So they are working together.”

The Gentleman nodded. “Two birds, one stone. Support the ‘right’ side, and keep us out of their city.” he paused for a moment, before shaking his head at the last words he spoke “Our city.”

Arsii nodded, glancing at his sister. “Sounds just like ‘em,” Cherii agreed. “So what do you want from us?”
“I’m fucking tired of it, moila,” Arsii admitted. “I’ll be honest. I’m no revolutionary. I wasn’t even a crook until they made me one.”

Cherii’s eyes went to his and her hand rested gently on his arm. “But we’ve done things you might not believe,” he continued. “The road to Damy’s hell and all of it.” He shook his head tightly. “Fuck.”

“I won’t sign up for a suicide mission,” Cherii declared, “and I won’t let him do it.” She crossed her arms. “The best revenge we could have is living.”

The Gentleman strode forward calmly and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze of reassurance. “It’s never too late to change course, moila. Damy has given us the will to choose our path.” before turning to Cherii and offering a hand to shake. “I would never ask that of you or anyone else, especially after all you’ve been through.” he looked down; whether in shame or empathy for their loss, it was hard to say. “But I cannot do this alone, else I would. ”

“We’ve less than no chance against them in combat, and if they’re with the Resistance, you can double that.”

Cherii shook her head. “No. It’s something else.” She regarded the gentleman steadily. “Luuca?”

He nodded and smiled, meeting her gaze. She’d been blessed by Shiin and Ypti, even if Exiran spited her oh so recently. “Ta. Even if we could do to them what they’ve done to you, it’s not the way. A complete victory takes time, as does true justice.”

Arsii crossed his arms as well, mirroring his sister. “I’m listening.”

“I know where they meet. A comrade passed the information along, but she looked too similar to dear Fortuna, so further infiltration wasn’t possible.” he spoke, gesturing to one of his legs.

“And why not you?” the bandit prodded. Cherii shrugged and inclined her head towards her brother in agreement.

“If I could have, I would have. Unfortunately, I’m known to some of them.” he shook his head in annoyance at this fact.

“And you’d rather not blow your cover,” the redhead observed. It was Arsii’s turn to nod.

He raised a hand in agreement with the statement, “I have a plan, if you’ll trust me. But it’s better we don’t discuss it here.” he looked around warily for a moment, but snapped his focus back to them. “I have friends behind the walls of our city. Let’s walk and talk.” he patted his knees, before gesturing for them to follow. “Oh, and don’t forget to have some refreshment.” He smiled, taking a bite of the last of the apples.

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Translations

1. “Do any of you know why we’re here?”
2. “It’s the good shade, isn’t it?”
3. “I miss the trees back home…”
4. “I miss home.”
5. “This is home.”
6. “Current home?
7. “More like future home”
8. “No.”
9. “Original home.”
10. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?”

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