He had only visited Formaroth once in his life, when he was a teenager, just entering manhood, when his own father had sent him with a trade delegation. It had been an eye opening experience. He had found the people to be rude, the "palaces" small and dark, the castles dark and sinister. Formaroth had none of the beauty, none of the grace or patience, that could be found so widely in Seikatsu. When he had returned he had shared his experience with his father who had just nodded and reminded his son that the western barbarians might not be much to look upon, but they were dangerous. It was the reason, to this very day, that the Gaijin were kept confined to a small island off the coast of the capital. It was the only place their ships might land and they themselves were not permitted to enter the Land of the Gods.

And yet, I am about to send my daughter into their den. Ayeka stared up at the imposing bulk of Sadatake Castle. There was no other fortress like it in the world but he feared that even with the impressive battlements, formidable location, and massive garrison, it might now be enough to defeat the Imperium. If they are battering down those walls, it means the rest of my country already lies in ruin.

The thought caused a knot to form in his stomach as he imagined the beautiful cherry orchards burning, the neat little white and black homes smashed beneath an invaders boot. The feeling was quickly replaced by a savage anger. No such thing would happen while he was Shogun. We will make them bleed for every inch. Oh yes, a blood letting like the world has never seen.

Already the Shogunate was filled with a purposeful buzz of energy as the people prepared for war. This was no campaign to expand the Shoguns borders, no trade dispute, no ordinary war. No indeed, this was a war for the survival of their species and no one knew better than the Iba how to prepare for war. It was in their blood. It was their nation. It was in their very soul.

They will come, and they will die in their thousands. Ayeka curled a fist behind his back as he made the silent promise to the city that lay before him. It was home. The greatest human city the world had ever known and he would give his own life before he let a single elf call himself King of such a place.

"Father." Kanna appeared on the deck behind him. He had been oblivious to the hurried movements of the crew, all of whom had given him a respectful distance as they prepared for sea. The Storm Reaver, his fastest ship, would carry his only daughter to Formaroth.

He turned to look at her and smiled, as he always did. I have been so fortunate in my children. But she is special. She will be Shogun someday. It was written into law that the first born child would become Shogun and she had arrived a minute before her brother. It is just as well. There is an anger in my son that would destroy this land to achieve the revenge he seeks. He extended a hand to her and she came willingly to him for a hug.

"Our home depends on you. Do not fail." He whispered the words into her ear. Simply said, carried the weight of a continent with them. He had no doubt his people would make the Imperium regret ever sailing but, in his heart of hearts, he knew survival was unlikely.

Kanna took his words to heart as she embraced her father, relishing in the warmth of his embrace. "Of course father." She whispered back. The shogun's daughter was still processing what her father had discussed with her just a few days prior after her meeting with Daichi. He was sending her overseas to plead for help on behalf of the country. She had never left home before. In fact, Kanna was hesitant on leaving given what atrocities happened to her brother, but she knew she was their best chance if they were to receive help from the westerners. "Would you like me to bring you back a souvenir?" She tried to bring some humor to the situation, attempting to hide her own uneasiness.

The Shoguns smile grew broader and he stepped back, holding her shoulders with his scarred hands. She was as beautiful as she was clever and he had no doubt that she would make them all proud. "Bring me back a stone for my garden. We will name it together."

"Do you think they will have stones worthy enough of your garden? I think from your stories of this Formaroth, I will be hard pressed." She clasped her hands in front of her, her long kimono sleeves completely covered her hands with its black cotton fabric. She was dressed casually for travel. Her silken robes would be soiled by the voyage.

"Then bring nothing back but yourself, and an army." Ayeka replied, dropping his hands to the swords at his waist. "I have asked Captain Yasuda to escort you, along with his men."

He waved a hand toward the side of the ship and a dozen samurai, all dressed in the same black as her dress, lopped onto the deck of the ship. Each was heavily armed and she knew all of them from their long service in her fathers court. They bowed as one. Both Kanna and Ayeka nodded in response.

"They will keep you safe. Trust no one." He stepped forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. "The Gods protect and guide you."

He turned and strode from the ship, down onto the stone quay where his own bodyguard was spread out, eyes ever watchful. The Captain of the ship, forewarned that this allowed him to make sail, began to shout orders and men ran for the big square sail as the lines were dragged inboard.

Ayeka raised his hand in farewell.

"And you" she said in return as she watched him leave the ship. The wind that now pulled at her clothes and hair smelled heavily of salt water. Kanna turned her face to the force that would carry them westward to an unknown future. Will these people help us, or will I be wasting my time? Fear gripped her stomach at the thought. She did not fear death, but she was afraid of not being there for her people when it came to their shores. Her slender hands gripped her katana tightly as she calmed her emotions. The shogun's daughter couldn't afford to loose her nerve, the fate of her country depended on it.

Kanna brought her attention back to shore when she felt the vessel lurch towards the sea, no longer bound to the land. She found her father's raised hand and returned the gesture with a heavy heart. This was the first time she ever left the country and she wished it were under more favorable circumstances. All hands were on deck, maneuvering the sea faring vessel into open waters and Kanna stayed topside until she could no longer see her father standing at the dock. Once he was out of view, she made her way to her cabin. She had a lot of preparation to do before she faced foreign monarchs.

Impressive. Most impressive. No end of stairs though, of that I am sure. Daichi stared up at the imposing bulk of Tanaka Castle. The structure had none of the beauty Sadatake Castle was famous for; rather it squatted like some monstrous toad astride the Great Silk Road as it ran north from Karaam into Noiba. The walls were built of black volcanic stone; the roof neatly tiled with red ceramic and trimmed at the edges with white. I suppose it is beautiful in its own way.

The wagon creaked beneath him and he glanced down at the driver who had shifted his weight. The mans gaze was straight ahead but Daichi could sense the man waiting for the word to move. It was almost embarrassing to be carted around in such a manner. He could still remember the motion of a horse beneath him and the power that it gave a mounted man over his foot slogging rival. A short shake of his head and he sucked on his gums, tongue playing along his broken teeth, before he grunted and the driver cracked the reins.

A small port had been built the service the massive fortress, large enough to allow small supply ships. A road had been hacked through the broken ground and thick brush up onto the low plain. The castle was situated atop a large rocky outcropping directly in the middle of a gap between the two mountains that served as natures gateway into Noiba. The ground around the castle had been cleared right up to the mountains, leaving a massive killing ground that any enemy would have to cross in order to attack the battlements. As an added touch, the river that ran from the north had been diverted so that it formed a lake around the base of the fortress before spilling over a small waterfall and running south into Karaam.

The cavalry escort closed in around Daichi as thee castle loomed above them. He had come with a token force, enough to protect himself from bandits but hardly enough to do much else. The fortress itself was still manned by Noiban troops, only recently educated as to their reintegration into the Shogunate. It was yet to be seen just how happy they would be about that. I hope for a parade and open arms, but I think I'll be lucky not to just end up a pincushion. He could see spearpoints twinkling on the ramparts as they drew closer and noted that the Noiban flag still flew from the keep. Not a great start.

It took the better part of thirty minutes to cross the killing field and he felt, rather than saw, the siege weapons tracking him from up above. He made no effort to hide his face, nor his robe, and the four black masked Kempeitai certainly gave away who he was. Hopefully they didn't just decide to slaughter him and be done with it.

A single bridge crossed from the castle and into the killing ground. It was hauntingly beautiful, a work of art done in red wood, a total of four long arches spanning the nearly still surface of the lake so that it reflected almost perfectly. Even here, in this valley designed for death, man has made something beautiful. The sound of hooves on the wooden deck was suddenly loud and Daichi cast his gaze to the north where a thick mist clung to the mountaintops and lush green forests spread down to carpet the valley bottom. A waterfall fell dramatically over one mountain spur, tumbling away until it vanished into the forest below. A land of perfection.

"Halt! Papers!" The bark of the Samurai guard who stood in the middle of the bridge brought the wagon to a halt. The cavalry escort had closed in behind Daichi and only his Kempeitai stood in front of him, Mamiko among them. She stood forward to present the papers issued to him by his father. The Noiba Samurai held them between thumb and forefinger as if they might contaminate him by their very touch.

"Today." Mamiko hissed the word and the samurai bristled at the tone. Daichi's eyes narrowed he flashed his broken grin. The man recoiled instinctively. "You know who I am. Stop wasting my time with your bad manners."

The samurai met Daichis gaze for a moment but then quickly bowed with mumbled apologies and handed back the papers to Mamiko who strode past him without a glance. Daichi spared the man a short nod and saw relief in the dark eyes. Never insult a man unless you intend to fight him, and I can't fight anyone.

Ahead of them the castle gates, massive steel affairs set into the volcanic stone, stood open with another samurai guard barring the way. Again the formal reading of papers and ritual bows occurred before they were waved on with greater ceremony than the bridge. The gatehouse here was actually a water filled courtyard spanned by a pair of drawbridges, one narrow enough for men to walk single file, the other large enough for a cart. Both were down but Daichi could see shadows moving behind the arrow slits above him.

Still more gates, more inspection of papers, and more bows, as the cart climbed a long ramp that ran around the base of the fortress; climbing slowly toward the summit. Bless them, I could almost walk this myself. The easy climb was misleading however, at every angle he could see firing platforms that would allow defenders to pour arrows into an attacking force; more than a few runes glowed faintly on the stone. This was a fortress designed to break any army that crashed against its walls. It was no wonder that Karaam had never made an effort.

They reached level ground at last and a final gatehouse, as thick and intimidating as the last half dozen, loomed over them. A sharp left turn, followed by a sharp right, and two more gates, brought them at last into the courtyard of the keep. A small unit of samurai was drawn up as an honour guard behind a tall thin officer dressed in light green tunic and white armour. General Shizuo Yokoyama I presume. Daichi had read everything he had available on the garrison commander and the livid white scar that bisected Yokoyamas face was all the more impressive when seen in person.

Mamiko stepped forward to fold down a set of stairs from the cart and Daichi descended carefully to the courtyard. His hip clicked and pain shot up his spine every time his right foot touched a stair. He forced himself not to grimace. Only when he was safely on the ground did he note that it was finely cut flagstones or brick but rather the polished stone of the mount itself. An impressive feat and he found himself wondering just how miserable had been to make it just so.

Click. Tap. Drag.

The sound echoed in the courtyard and Daichi forced himself not to flinch at the noise. The rhythm of my life and yet it still bothers me. Will I ever get used to it? The Kempeitai had closed in around him as the cavalry dismounted and held their station behind his wagon. He could see the General assessing him. And what does he see? A cripple with no teeth, duck feet, and a lame limp. This ought to inspire all sorts of confidence in my taking command here.

Click. Tap. Drag.

"General Yokoyama-san." Daichi spoke first. He had come to realize that most military men needed to be addressed quickly before they could speak down to him; using their rank tended to make them somewhat more cooperative.

"Crown Prince Daichi-sama. Welcome to Tanaka Castle." The general bowed bowed low. The movement was echoed by the honour guard behind him and it caught Daichi off guard. He quickly bowed himself, not as low as the General but more than enough to be polite. The military man straightened and glanced at Daichis escort. "Perhaps your men might like to make themselves comfortable?"

"I am sure they would, thank you." Daichi nodded to Mamiko who relayed the order. "After you, General."

"No, please. I insist." Came the calm reply. No expression crossed the scarred face and Daichi found himself warming to the man as he made his way into the keep.

Click. Tap. Drag.

Mage’s Tower, Nyhem Palace.

Lanaya stood in the midst of chaos. She had only been staying in the tower for a single night before she had decided that it just had to change. Initially, she had not wanted to disturb anything, in the name of keeping Aurelia alive in some perverse manner. Yet after a day of seeing her friend everywhere she looked, and a night of feeling like she had stolen the bed of a ghost, she simply couldn’t take it anymore. And so, her mind made up, she had summoned several strong Steel Fist guards to help her rearrange the furniture.

Though ‘help’ might not necessarily have been the right word, since she wasn’t lifting a single thing. It was far more of her commanding them to move things, them lifting the furniture to a new position, then her changing her mind and repeating the entire process.

Just as the increasingly frustrated guards were moving the immense, ornate desk for the fourth time, there was a knock at the door. The guards looks around at each other, unsure of what to do for a moment. Then they collectively put down the heavy furniture in the middle of the room where they were standing, generating a scolding look from Lana, and one of them went to get the door.

Behind it was the lean, dark haired figure of Arianna. Upon seeing this, Lana quickly stated to the guards “She is expected. Let her in and leave us.”

Lana held a neutral expression as Arianna stepped in, and the guards filed out. “Magister Lanaya.” Arianna said, with a nod that echoed the formality normally expected between them, but also spoke to their familiarity. Yet Lana’s face remained set in stone.

“To who do you owe your loyalty Tidemaster Zerrikan?” She asked sternly, in a clipped tone.

Arianna stepped back, visibly shocked by the question and its suddenness. She was speechless for a moment.

“Answer me. And know that you are a poor liar, I will know if you speak the truth.” Lana said, her eyes locked with Arianna’s in an intense stare.

“Lanaya? What is this?” Arianna began. Lana’s gaze intensified, shocking the younger mage into compliance. “My allegiance is to the Summer Isles, to the Circle, and to you and your cause Magister.” She said, her eyes lowered.

Lana continued to stare for a moment, then relaxed, her face taking on a much more friendly expression. “Good.” She said. “It seems you are one of only very few.” She sighed. “My apologies for stern greeting, and for the disarray of…. My quarters.” Lana was still unused to the idea that she would live here now, even in the short term. She preferred her Manor, but if making this tower a home was what was required to be absolved in Alasdair’s eyes… Then it was a small price to pay.

“What do you know of the state of the Collective?” Lana asked. Arianna looked at her quizzically - it was an understandably strange question coming from the founder of the organization. Yet, after a moment, she answered. “It is doing quite well last I heard. I received a letter encouraging me to meet with the others in Alenius, which seems quite out of the way for most of the membership, but I felt no need to question it. I planned to sail there once I was no longer required here.”

Lana was struck by the strangeness of it all, but also the power that she had held over those beneath her as she listened. She had never considered herself to be the leader of the organization in that manner. “So, you don’t know then.” She asked Arianna.

“Know what? Is this some kind of test?” The younger mage replied.

“You could say that.” Lana said, her tone one of irony. “The Collective has been usurped. Stolen by a Blood Mage. Alice Budwin seized control while I was… captured… by that monster Thanatos Thale.” She sighed again, but kept her eyes on Arianna.

The younger mage was clearly taken aback at the news. “And the others… They followed a Blood Mage?” She asked.

“Yes. It seems I cultivated an atmosphere not only of desire for action against the mundanes, but also of deviance and rebellion against the Circle. This was never my intent.” Lana felt almost like she was on trial. Again. “I am thankful that you at least, were not caught up in this Arianna.”

Still incredulous, Arianna continued to question. “And High Magisters Barden and Blackwell? They went along with this too?”

“As far as I know, yes.” Lana stated. “I have been unable to investigate further in person. The Emperor wishes to ensure my safety in this dark time, and has requested I remain in this tower for the time being.” She lied, weaving enough truth in to conceal it from prying ears.

Arianna seemed to ponder for a moment, taking it all in. Then, with her classic exuberance, sprang into motion, pacing back and forth as she spoke. “Shall I travel to Alenius and investigate for you? I could be there in a few days and Isles ships are still welcome in their ports.”

“No.” Lana said firmly. “I’m sure you would be welcome there, but I need you elsewhere. I have two tasks for you.”

Arianna initially looked somewhat crestfallen that her offer was turned down, ceasing her pacing to stand and listen to Lanaya. She quickly regained some of her energy as tasks were mentioned however.

“First, I need you to travel to Ralda and contact the half-elf Dyril Elian. I believe she may be able to provide information on… The Blood Gems. I need you to bring her here, that I may discuss it with her in person. Second, I need you to represent me to Circle. The Emperor wishes to forge closer ties between the Isles and the Imperial Concord... Yet between my duties here and the Circle’s, well, distaste for my policies, I do not believe it would be a good idea for me to be the bearer of this message.”

Arianna nodded. “I am already familiar with Dyril. It will be good to see her again.” Her tone was unsure as she continued. “I will do my best with the Circle, but I fear I will not be eloquent enough to persuade them.”

“It is imperative that you succeed.” Lana said sternly, but her expression softened upon seeing Arianna’s uncertainty and worry. “Here. Sit. I will teach you a few things about dealing with High Magisters…”

Several more hours passed before Arianna left, but when she did it was with a new confidence in her step. She would set sail at once, satisfied at last that she had a task of importance.

Arianna marveled at the extent of the destruction that had been wrought upon Fishgrove as her ship pulled up to the docks. It had never been a particularly impressive town to start with, but the fact that it was still showing clear signs of fire and debris so long after it had been attacked was testament to the thoroughness of the aggressors. There were only a few dockhands waiting for the ship, and they looked particularly harrowed - it was clear that handling ships was only half of their job now, as they scurried back and forth between the dockside and the reconstruction efforts of the infrastructure needed to handle larger ships. She was thankful they’d taken on a full load of provisions at Nyhem, because there were none to be had here.

Once the ship was fully secured on the dock, she left her crew to manage the craft and went ashore, casting her gaze about to spot Dyril as she did so. She had sent her familiar forward of the ship with a message for the half-elf to meet her. She had a schedule to keep and did not want to be stuck searching through the chaos of the reconstruction for her friend.

Dyril nervously collected her dress skirt in her hands. Her fingers wringed it in her grasp over and over, fidgeting at the thought of meeting Arianna again. The docks still looked heavily damaged from the battle that once ravaged the small town. She glanced over through the dock’s clutter and activity, mindful to remain out of the busy dock hands way, while she searched for her friend. Finally spotted Arianna, her wary lips cracked into a smile.

Her boots tapped along the wet surface to close the distance between them. In moments, they were face to face when Dyril spoke.

“I’m sorry about the state of the dock. We’re still working on rebuilding it, but other things have taken priority and took longer than expected,” she gestured for her friend to follow her while she began to lead them away from the busy work area.

“When your message arrived, I have to say I was surprised.”

Arianna smiled. “It’s good to see you again Dyril” She began, falling in step with the half elf as they moved away from the docks.

“We? You’ve integrated quickly then. How do you like it here? The people treat you well I hope?”

Dyril sighed, her expression slightly worn from the memories.
“There was some resistance. Originally I was going to focus on my own plot of land and grow the mandrakes, but the town’s state made it difficult. Kiseo is supervising the planting right now and should be done on time.”

She then moved on to the next topic, their figures walked through the parted groups and entered the main dirt road into the town.

“When they started to realize I could help, they began to soften toward me. I can’t say if I like it or not after only being here for a short time, but it’s growing on me.”

“It could be a lot worse.” Arianna stated. “I’m sure you’ll get used to this place and its people soon enough. In the meantime, however, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Is there somewhere more private we can go?” Arianna didn’t want to seem like she was rushing, indeed, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to facing the Circle leadership, but at the same time she was eager to carry out the important mission Lanaya had given her.

Sensing the urgency in Arianna’s tone, Dyril nodded then altered her direction. This time it headed into the only remaining tavern: The Voyage’s End. She held her hand out for her friend to wait while she approached the counter alone. A small whispering counsel was held before the man sighed and lifted the small barrier to allow them to pass.

“Thank you,” she said as she slipped him a small tip for the trouble.

“Yeah, I suppose. Just make it quick,” he grumbled, his good eye sized Arianna up a moment before he returned to cleaning his filthy mug.

“All right, Angus is allowing us to use the backroom. Let’s be quick about it before he changes his mind.”

With those words, Dyril led Arianna into the only solitary room in the bar. Within there was recently ordered barrels of ale to beer distilling in wooden confinements, followed by a strong odor of mold and stale bread. The half elf wrinkled her nose, but said nothing to draw attention to it.

“This is as private as you can get in Fishgrove at the moment.”

Arianna looked around and suppressed a grin. She had had some interesting adventures in bar back rooms like this one. “It’ll do.” She said, before producing a piece of parchment from the folds of her clothing.

“Magister Lanaya has sent me to request that you meet with her to discuss this.” She handed the parchment to Dyril then. It appeared to be a page from a mages notes, clearly depicting a crimson gem, along with notes on theoretical energy output.

As arianna continued, her tone was businesslike, and she was careful to keep accusation out of her voice. “We had been led to believe this was a new innovation, but it has recently come to light that it is of a darker nature - a blood gem. The Magister would like to know if you, as an expert on magical artifacts, have any knowledge of this, and if you would be willing to disclose it to her.”

“What fool would use blood magic? Don’t they understand the damage that can be caused by this?” Dyril blurted out, her skin paler than it should’ve been.

Arianna was slightly taken aback by the reaction. She hadn’t expected Dyril to have such strong feelings on it. “Certainly none of ours.” She quickly replied. “I am unsure of what I am allowed to tell you, other than that we seek a way to destroy them. Blood magic is outlawed in Formaroth, but we have little experience with counteracting it.”

Dyril took a moment to pull a sack of barley from its position then lowered herself to sit.

“In days, they will either kill themselves or no longer be the people you once knew. I’m not sure if that’s of any comfort or concern on your part,” Dyril explained with a deadpan expression.

“This magic is only allowed to be practiced under extreme watchful eyes and only with the approval of the Empress herself. I don’t even know how this individual got the information, but they are playing with fire and likely to be burned by it. I’ve only read documents over it. Not a single one ended well.”

“I see.” Arianna replied, her expression now grim. “Then I must ask you to travel with me so that you can relay everything you know directly to Magister Lanaya. It is of utmost importance to the safety of the realm that we learn how to destroy Blood Gems.”

“That’s going to be the interesting part. I’ll come and see what I can do,” Dyril began to lift upward onto her feet once more. However, her balance shifted into a brief wobbly fashion and abruptly righted itself.

“I will be honest. I don’t believe we have ever discovered or wanted to find a way to destroy whatever blood gems we produced. For elves, even dark Magic serves a purpose. Usually to learn more.”

Arianna instinctively reached out to help steady her friend, then spoke. “I see. Well, anything you can tell us will be helpful… Is there anything you need to get before we travel? My ship will be ready to depart whenever we are.”

She went to get the door, then turned back for a moment. “Oh, I should tell you that we will be traveling by way of the Summer Isles. It will take several days more, but I have important business there as well.”

“I’ll need to collect some clothes and pack. I’m not keen on leaving Kiseo here, but there’s little choice. We can not risk the crop failing and she’s still supervising them,” Dyril stated.

She touched Arianna when the woman adjusted her balance, grateful for the assistance.

“Thank you, I’m afraid to say I hadn’t eaten today. I’ll have to fix that later,” she looked to her friend as if ask if they were finished or there was more bad news.

“Kiseo seems quite capable. I’m sure she will manage. There is plenty of food on the ship… Though I hope you don’t get too seasick. She’s a bit less stable than some of those bigger ships you might be used to…”

As they left the back room, Arianna paused only to ask “Shall I meet you at the ship then? There will be plenty of time to catch up once we’re under way.”

“I traveled to Formaroth in a ship from Elven lands and that’s a few months. I believe I can stomach a week,” Dyril chuckled lightly.

“Yes, I’ll collect my things and we’ll be off. I just need to worry about the anxiety that’s going to be dogging my every step with this trip.”

“Relax. You believe in Kiseo don’t you? You might even have fun on the Isles.” Arianna grinned. “I wouldn’t be much of a host if I didn’t show you around my home after all.”

“I’ll tell you a little secret. It’s not Kiseo I have anxiety about, it’s me without her.”

When Arianna’s grin turned into a confused look, Dyril sighed then explained, “I don’t like being left alone for long periods of time. My family’s past time was locking me inside my room where Kiseo or her mother couldn’t get in. I would be completely isolated in a small area for weeks. As a child, that’s a nightmare.”

Arianna listened intently, it was a grim fate indeed for a child. But when she responded, it was once again with mirth. “Well, then you really do have nothing to worry about. It’s a small ship, and you have me. You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

Dyril’s smile quickly returned, “Well, let’s not delay any longer. I’ll meet you at the ship within an hour if all goes well, two if it doesn’t.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.” Arianna said, then strode back towards the docks to make the ship ready.

The sky was lit up foreboding red as the sun went down over the empty horizon. The Sunfury was approximately halfway to the Summer Isles and there wasn’t a single piece of land or ships mast in sight. Arianna was at the helm, allowing her usual steersman to rest. The ship didn’t usually stop at night, but it did run on a smaller crew and slow while the mage portion of the crew slept.

Dyril walked up the captain's cabin steep steps onto the deck. The salty air drifted into her nose and followed by the distraction of the skeleton crew at work. A few men and women skirted from starboard to port, securing ropes to straightening sails. Each had their own job as night began to fall.

Determined to remain out of their way, Dyril turned to face the dying sunlight. It's red light painted not only the sky but her clothes too and indicated the end of the day. Sorrow seeped into her core at the sight. It drew forth a flickering frown. Her line of sight lowered to the ocean itself. The waves swayed and turned a glossy dark, distorting any reflecting light. Her focus lingered a moment longer then pulled away toward Arianna.

Her frown turned into a small, warm smile upon seeing her friend manning the helm. With courage and comfort drawn from the image, Dyril walked to the ship's rear. She wedged herself against the rail to avoid the sailors' paths when she paused. Something caught on the outskirts of her vision.

A broken piece of driftwood darted past the ship's side before it vanished into the wider sea. Dyril's lips tightened in silence trying to debate on if what she witnessed was real or her imagination.

Arianna looked to the side only briefly as her friend joined her on the slightly raised platform where the helm was located. She was mostly focused on the ship - they had a favorable wind and she was trying to make the most of it despite the time of day and general slowing down of travel.

The ship still felt eager to move beneath her, but there was a sense of foreboding in the sea. The water reflected the sky, and a crimson sea was never a good sign.

Just then, the sailor on watch shouted “Debris in the water, off the starboard bow.”

As soon as she heard it, Arianna stood taller and was more aware. Far above, a black shape coalesced into being, unnoticed by those below, as her Albatross shade materialised. She focused, looking through its eyes to get a better view.

Sure enough, there was a jagged mass of wood floating in the distance. She willed the shade it move, flying out in front of the ship. The further away it got, the harder it was to see through its eyes - darkness closed in around the edges of the shared sight and everything got blurrier. Yet, through the haze, she could still see enough.

It wasn’t just one piece of wreckage, it was many. Broken masts, torn sailcloth and a preponderance of shattered wood littered the surface of the crimson sea.

Then, she spotted something that sent chills down her spine - an intact sail partially wrapped around a piece of wreckage bearing the symbol of the Summer Isles Navy.

Immediately, her mind snapped back to her own body and she began shouting orders. “All hands to stations! Unfurl all sails and prepare to make full speed! Eyes on the horizon for threats!” With practiced precision, the crew leapt into action. Not a single one of them dawdled, and orders were quickly carried below decks to the few crew that had chosen to rest there.

Déjà vu drifted into Dyril’s heart once more.

It was all familiar. The rush of the crew and the sounds of sails slapping free, then the ship’s surge forward into the incoming night. Wood thunked against the ship’s bow as they pushed closer toward the wreckage. Dread filled her heart, but her lips pressed tightly to seal her thoughts from the air.

The only difference was they weren’t running from the danger but toward it. It took a moment for Dyril to convince herself this was the present, not the past. Her hand pressed against her chest to steady her heart before it returned to the railing.

Why did I think it was my imagination? The thought etched into Dyril's mind as she joined the others. Her palms gripped rails and her eyes sought the horizon for signs of danger.

“Bodies in the water Captain!” One of the crewmen shouted. It brought a new sense of unpleasantness to the occasional thuds as the ship struck objects in the water.

Arianna turned to Dyril then, noting that her friends hands were gripping the rail far more tightly than their speed necessitated. “It looks as though whoever did this is long gone. And even if they aren’t, I’d wager we can outfight or outrun them. We’re quite safe.” She said, doing her best to reassure the half-elf.

Distracted by her friend, Dyril nodded in a meek fashion. Her posture immediately relaxed as her fingers loosened on the railing.

Arianna turned back just in time to see two halves of a mighty castle galley appear from the gloom. The timbers of the central hull were sliced neatly through on one side, with only minimal evidence of the usual splintering that occurred from a ship breaking apart. The decks were sloped down on a sharp angle - they had begun the slow process of sinking below the waves, yet the stubborn warship still held on to some semblance of life. It’s name was still mostly visible above the water on the bow - Stygian.

The Sunfury began turning towards the wreck as Arianna adjusted course. It was the most likely place they would find survivors, and it was her duty as a Tidemaster to investigate any loss of Navy warships.

“What could’ve done this…” Dyril’s question voiced what she thought to be a universal thought on everyone’s mind.

“I… Don’t know.” Arianna replied, genuinely surprised, but doing her best to suppress it.

Dyril turned her head to face Arianna, a hint of fear and worry below the surface in her eyes. The answer was not one she wanted to hear.

“That doesn’t reassure me we are safe. I don’t want to linger here any longer than we need to, especially in the darkness.”

“We won’t be here long. Once we search the wreck, we’ll make full speed through the night. The Admiralty needs to know about this.”

It didn’t take long for them to pull alongside the wreckage. Even suspended in the midst of a slow death, the massive structure of the Castle Galley towered over the Sunfury, lending a sense of grim scale to the scene.

Several of Arianna’s crew deftly threw ropes up to high portions of the wreck before dexterously clambering across to the other vessel. Arianna herself left the helm to a crewman and quickly disappeared into her cabin, retrieving a fleet register to confirm which ship it was they were boarding. When she found the name on the register, her face went pale. The Stygian was the ship assigned to Grand Tidemaster Mirabelle Laurent, Admiral of the Irman Fleet. She rolled up the document and quickly returned it to its place in her cabin.

Returning to the deck, she pointed at two of the mages on her crew bringing them aside and quietly issuing another order. “I need you to search for Grand Tidemaster Laurent’s body, or any sign of her seal. If you find any other sensitive materials, retrieve them, and destroy them if you cannot.” The mages nodded, then began to cast shapeshifting spells.

It took the crew fifteen long minutes to search the sections they could reach above the water, and another ten more for the mages to search the portions blocked by water. The time passed agonisingly slowly, but once everyone was back aboard the Sunfury it became clear they had at least met with some success.

They had found the Grand Tidemaster’s seal, but not her body or any of her charts and documents. More importantly, they had a survivor. Presently unconscious, the man appeared to have been an archer, seemingly having survived only by virtue of being knocked out and left in one of the Castle sections of the ship.

As soon as the two mages had set foot back on the deck, the ropes were reeled in and the Sunfury began to speed away from the grim remains.

It only took a few minutes for the council to gather in Andris’s bedchambers. Everyone was now present. Maror, Ian, Dilys and Freya. Frajera was also there standing by Andris’ side.
“What is the nature of this meeting my lord?” questioned Ian.
“Yes I would like to know as well.” Said Freya.
“Was your meeting with this so called necromancer successful?” asked Dilys.”
Andris said nothing his mind was in thought in another place. He was questioning himself as to whether this meeting was a good idea. He then felt the soft and tender touch upon his shoulder.
“Andris?”
It was Fajera. He could see the worry in her face. He knew that she could tell something was off. He could feel the uncertainty in air.
“My apologies.” He said “Yes I indeed meet the man himself.”
“Is that all?” asked Ian with some annoyance. “Then why have you kept this hidden for so long, and why are we here instead of the throne room?”
“I understand your frustration Lord Mazeltof.” Said Andris, trying to calm him down “But please hear me out. I did indeed meet this man who calls himself a necromancer. He boasts a power that is beyond my understanding. He claims that the rumours are indeed true. He says that he can bring life back to an army of the dead.”
The others didn’t know what to say to this. Maror knew that he could trust Andris despite the ludicrous claims. The two of them had gone through many things to not trust him now. Freya was more unsure, while necromancers did exist she had only ever heard of them being able to resurrect a couple dozen at most.The Mazeltofs were the most sceptical but it was Ian who spoke up first.
“My lord. Are you sure that the day’s sun has not affected you?” he asked “How can you be sure that what you saw was indeed the truth. This man could be a simple trickster hoping for a chance to earn some easy coin.”
“Or an agent of the empire, waiting for the right moment to place a dagger in your back” Dilys added
“I understand your scepticism”. Said Andris trying to reassure all of them “But what I saw with my own eyes is proof that this man is who he says he is. But if that is not enough, then I have proof of this power with me.”
Everyone stood in shock to hear this. How was this possible? Andris took a few seconds. He knew that there was no turning back once he showed them the truth. He grabbed his cloak and then revealed his skeletal arm.

The whole room gasped in shock. Maror had his sword unsheathed to protect himself in case the sinister magic tried to claim him. Freya stood in sheer shock, Dilys almost screamed out of sheer fear weren’t it not that her brother was beside her. Ian himself was frozen to the spot. Frajera took a couple of steps away from her husband. Fear had overtaken the entire council.
“What kind of magic is this?!” Frajera barely asked. Andris turned to his wife to see the sheer terror in her eyes.
“A magic that can win us the war and reclaim not only our homeland but all of our allies as well.” Andris said trying to reassure them all. While Frajera, Maror and Freya were slowly coming to terms with the new addition to Andris’ person, the Mazeltofs were not convinced. Fear still ruled over Dilys while Ian could only look on in disgust.
“But at what price!?” shouted Ian. “Would you lead us to further ruin with this black magic”?! “You are corrupted, cursed with Hystix’s magic” Dilys added
“Hold you your tongue!” ordered Maror with his sword still in his hand ready to defend Andris’ honour.
“Stand down Maror.” With his left hand raised. He sought to calm the situation but he could see that the Mazeltofs were shaken. “I understand your fear Lord and Lady Mazeltof. Believe me this is still strange even for myself but with this magic we will take back your kingdom and I promise you will see your sisters once again.”
Andris could see that despite his words that they were still unnerved and disgusted. He sighed. “You are both free to take your leave.”

And with that the Mazeltofs swiftly left the chamber.
“Maror, Lady Neptuna I thank you. You may go as well.”
Freya simply nodded her head, her brow furrowed while Maror simply said “You’re welcome.” The two of them left Andris and Frajera in their chambers.
For a few seconds there was nothing but silence. Andris could feel the uneasiness between the two of them.
“Frajera I…” he tried to say before Frajera interrupted him.
“Show me your arm.” She ordered him.
He knew it was fruitless to disobey her. He raised his arm for her. She was hesitant at first but eventually she held the arm in her hands. She tried to be careful with it in case it caused her husband any pain. But he reassured her that she did not need to worry. She continued to examine the arm. She was astounded by the sight of it. Andris watched as she moved her hands up and down the arm. He was unable to feel the soft and tender feeling of her hands that he had come to know in their years together. Thinking back to better times nearly brought him to tears.
“Frajera.” He said while taking one of her hands in his human hand. “I know that you are afraid but I’m doing this for us, for Afdul and the girls. With this we’ll be able to go back home.”
Frajera looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity within them.
“Andris. You are my husband. No matter what happens. I will never leave your side. If you believe that this power will let us win then I believe in you.” She said her voice shaking as she spoke.
Out of instinct Andris reached out to touch Frajera’s face with his other hand, forgetting that it was now nothing more than a skeletal imitation of what he once had, causing Frejera to pull away. She looked at Andris, then at his arm before leaving the room.

The battlefield was covered with thousands of corpses, the sky was blood red and the moon was as black as night but still illuminating the distant sun. Among the corpses were people he recognised, Nizaar, Patrick, Isabel, Claus and the Blackwells. But also those he had never seen before, a red haired woman, a knight of the church, a young elven girl and two Seikatsu nobles . Nothing was alive except for Andris Mandarass and Alasdair De Reimer. Alasdair, the High King, the Snake, Conqueror, Coward. He had many names but they would matter little in a few moments. Andris walked towards Alasdair who was moving away only trip over a dead De Reimer soldier. The fear in his eyes was overwhelming it was amusing to Andris see him such a lowly and pitiful state.
“It’s been a long time coming De Reimer. You won’t believe how long I’ve waited for this moment.”
Alasdair tried to crawl away over the countless bodies of his allies but it was hopeless his body was failing him out of sheer fear. He turned to face Andris. Andris could clearly hear the fear in his voice. “You have claimed your victory Lord Mandarass. I’ll give you anything you desire.” Alasdair quickly grabbed the crown that was on his head and held it out for Andris to take.
“I’ll make you king. I can give you all the gold that Formaroth has to offer. I can give you anything that you desire, just spare me please!”
“Anything?” asked Andris.
“Yes anything!” pleading Alasdair.
“There’s only one thing I want from you Alasdair De Reimer.”
As he said this Andris knelt over Alasdair and then clasping his hand on Alasdair’s head. Alasdair knew his end was nigh but still hopelessly was begging for his life.
“I! WANT! YOUR! BLOOD!!!” shouted Andris in a demonic voice.
And as he said this he dug his thumbs into Alasdair’s eyes. Screams filled the battlefield. Andris knew that Alasdair was in immense pain but he didn’t care, he wanted the pain to last as long as possible. It was what the bastard deserved. Andris didn’t know how much time had passed but every second was filled with the screams of Alasdair. It was delicious and it was time to end it. With great ease he tore Alasdair’s head apart. The blood splattered across his face and then the rain came but in the form of droplets of blood. Andris stood to look over the battlefield. Only he stood triumphant. It was finally over. He had achieved victory. He looked up towards the moon with his hands raised mumbling the incantation that had made him a god amongst men. One by one the corpses raised up and bowed to their new king. No their new god. Giles, Eli, Patrick, the now headless body of Alasdair, they all now bowed to him. Andris lowered his head his eyes were now nothing but darkness. They were the blackest of black that could be ever conceived. He would now bring a new age of man. The age of Mandarass.

Andris had awoken to a lightning storm. He was in a cold sweat. It was one of the few times in his life he had been completely overwhelmed with fear. He could see that Fajera was undisturbed. She could always sleep through near anything and for that he envied her. He then looked to his skeletal arm, a month had passed since the meeting with the war council but for Andris the time had gone swiftly. Andris now used garments and a glove to hide his new arm. Though thanks to the Mazeltofs most of the alliance know knew of Andris’ arm. Still he thought best to cover it up so as not to disturb his allies any further. But then he noticed something that was not on his arm before. Inscribed in the bone was a message. It only read.
“The time has come to make your choice.”
He knew what this meant, but before he could think about it the message had disappeared. He quietly got out of bed as not to disturb Fajera from her sleep. He grabbed a robe to cover himself up and quietly left the chamber. Andris wandered around the castle till he eventually reached the throne room. There was no one in sight. Then suddenly a voice called out.
“So have you made your decision Lord Andris?”
Andris turned to see the old man himself.
“I have but first I want to ask you something.”
“Let me guess, you wish to know my name. I would tell you but my name is lost to the sea of time. But to make it easier for you can call me… Zilak.
“Zilak? Very well then. As to your offer. I am welcome to an alliance between you and myself. But beware that if there is any trickery I will kill you myself. Once this war is over our alliance will come to an end.”
“I understand my lord. My services are at your full disposal but as I said my magic alone is not enough to ensure your victory. That is what I have to discuss with you.”
“Very well then out with it. What is it that you wish to discuss?”
“I am sure a man was well read as yourself is familiar with the legend of Adamar ‘The undead king of Beilokias’?”
“Adamar”? Andris replied “The arch sorcerer who turned on the imperium? According to the stories he was the most powerful necromancer who ever lived, able to raise over a thousand undead”. At this Zilak spat at the ground. His spit was blackened and bloody.
“He was nothing more than an amateur who at most could barely raise a hundred undead” Zilak said angrily “However through blood magic he was able to enhance his skills and fooled the world into thinking he was gifted” Zilak finished with a bitter laugh “Tell me what you know of blood gems”.
“I know nothing of what you say, I do not possess much knowledge when it comes to matters of the arcane” Andris replied.
“That is understandable. Blood gems are not well known even amongst the magic community. They are a source of great power and it was through one of these gems Adamar was able to increase his power and ingrain himself in legend. The first to create them were the elves, but after the incident with Adamar along with other side effects the gems had on elves they foolishly destroyed any that had been made along with any work on how to create them.
“And if you were to obtain one of these gems?” asked Andris.
“I could make you an army of unkillable soldiers in the tens of thousands. With that power you would be one step closer to your victory over your enemies”. Zilak said with a smile.
“Fascinating.” Andrew pondered think of the capabilities of such a power.
“Do you have an idea of where we could obtain some of these gems.?” asked Andris curiously “As you said the elves destroyed all of theirs”?
“I do my lord.” Answered Zilak “I have heard rumours that a high magister in Formaroth has made a breakthrough in the arcane arts. According to what I have heard they have developed a source of great magical power that resembles a red gem. However this is all just rumours for now, I know not of who this is nor where they might be.
“Perhaps I can get my spies to gather some information.” Said Andris.
“Then I leave it to you my lord.” Said Zilak in a voice of delight. “You look tired, it’s not a good thing for a king to be tired you know.”
Zilak started to walk across the throne room towards a window on the far side.
“Wait! How will I be able to summon you when the time comes?” Andris called
“You already have the tool to do so.” Said Zilak.
Andris didn’t understand at first but then he looked at his skeletal arm.
“When the time comes you will know how to summon me.” Zilak said as he opened the window and stepped out onto the ledge. Andris was about to ask what he was doing before Zilak jumped from the ledge. Andris rushed over to the window expecting to see the necromancers corpse splattered across the ground. Instead as he peered out into the darkness he saw nothing on the floor. As he looked out across the horizon his jaw dropped in shock. As a flash of lightning lit up the night sky Andris could Zilak riding what looked like some sort of giant zombified bird. Soon the the lighting passed and Zilak was gone.

---

Truong Huy San was the tenth in a long line of fishermen who made his living harvesting the rich bounty teeming in the oceans off of Beival's Eastern coast. The day had begun like any other as he dragged his small fishing boat down to the tideline and out past the first few breakers of the early morning hours. His nets were already in place, a crab trap or two near the stern, and he clambered aboard to raise the single lateen sail. It caught the offshore breeze and he felt the little vessel surge beneath him and he took a hand to the tiller, guiding his the sturdy craft through the reef beyond the shingle beach and out into the ocean beyond.

The same wind that drove him eastward was pushing the mist that usually cloaked the coastline at this hour out to sea. It was a promising start to a day when he anticipated a generous catch. If he caught enough, he could rest tomorrow and repair some of his other nets, maybe take his son to the play in the nearby village. It was all the motivation he would need to put in a long day on the water.

He gradually became aware of a strange hum coming from the fog. He craned his neck, trying to peer into the white bank that was slowly retreating ahead of him; he unable to see a thing. The noise grew in volume the further he went and he began to feel afraid. He was a grown man who had been fishing these seas for nearly forty years without incident, but nothing would break him of his superstition that monsters lurked beneath the waves.

A heavy gust from the mainland heeled his boat over even as it served to shred the fog bank to pieces. What appeared before him caused his heart to go cold. The morning sunlight, just kissing the horizon, revealed ships, more than he could have ever imagined, spread out as far as he could see, blanketing the horizon. Their mass of white sails appeared like an unearthly cloud bank that moved slowly northward. He didn't need any formal education to know who the vessels belonged to. There was an Elven colony a few miles from where he lived and he saw their ships often enough. But this was something else.

Without a moments hesitation, he swung the boat around and began to tack upwind toward his village. As the fog bank continued to clear he could see that ships were already arriving at the Elven colony. Others were anchoring along the reef line and disgorging small boatloads of soldiers toward the white sand beaches that had seemed so serene and peaceful only an hour before.

It took him the better part of two hours to return to the beach and already smoke was thickening in the northern sky as elven troops rode inland and began to savage the countryside. He could see cavalry moving among the infantry as they poured up the beach. More ships were arriving and the few boats rowing ashore turned into dozens, then hundreds. The scattered groups of elven forces became a river, and then a tidal wave of dark shapes that hid the beach from view.

The sand and shingle crunched beneath the bow and he sprang into the water, abandoning the boat as he ran for the village. He could see small groups of peasants clustered together as they stared at the smoke that smeared the blue sky, his family among them. He looked north again and felt the cold hand on his gut once again. Elven soldiers were beginning to appear at the edge of the village rice paddies. Water exploded beneath their feet as they rushed toward the terrified villagers.

"RUN!" His scream seemed to break the spell of disbelief holding his family rooted in place. As one, like a flock of birds, they turned and fled south. He almost sobbed in relief as he hurried after them, his legs burning with the effort of running through the fine sand. He could hear the shouts of the elven soldiers, their whoops and cheers as they caught sight of the fleeing villagers. Fear flooded through him.

Screams ahead of him now and he reached his family even as they began to recoil. More soldiers from the south. It took him a moment to recognize the spiked helms and gold trimmed armour but in that instant he understood that he was looking at soldiers of Beival.

"They are ours. Run to them!" He pushed his family forcefully, his energy giving them the strength to continue running. They splashed into the rice paddies, the water instantly soaking them to the knee. His legs screamed in protest. He was a fisherman, not a soldier, running was not in his daily routine.

The column of soldiers hurrying northward paid them little attention, though a mounted officer turned aside to shout at them. "It is not safe to the south. You must go inland. Make for Phuong!"

Truong waved his thanks to the officer and continued to usher his family into the bamboo forest that crowded up against the rice paddies. He wanted to turn and watch the coming battle but in his heart of hearts he knew it was already over. The elves on the beach had been to many, and the arriving Beivalian soldiers to few.

Behind him he heard a cheer as the two forces charged home and then he pushed into the bamboo after his family. They would run, they had to, their lives depended on it.

---

Cillotah Dinoine stared up at the imposing bulk of Sadatake Castle as his ship coasted into Shinkyo's massive outer harbour. Thousands of small boats and hundreds of ships bustled to and fro across the azure surface, small fish darting swiftly over the sandy bottom beneath the keel of the Elven ambassadors vessel.

This is the wealth of Seikatsu. He thought, eyes locked on the huge fortress that dominated the entire city. And we're busy pissing about in Beival. I will never understand that. He had been a firm advocate for attacking Akaiba first, the most powerful of all Seikatsu's nationstates, but the council had seen fit to chose Beival where they already maintained a foothold.

The elven ship was flanked by a pair of Akaiban warships. They were slightly larger, narrower, and certainly faster. He found, to his surprise, that his made him uneasy. He had made Akaiba his personal study over the past several years as the Imperium planned for their great invasion. Like most elves, he considered the humans inferior, what else could they be, and had learned most of what he knew from books and merchants. It seemed that the books and merchants had greatly underestimated Akaiba.

The Iban pilot, a tall thin man who spoke to none of the elven crew, was carefully guiding the gold wrought hull toward a long stone jetty that lay separate from the others. It took Cillotah a moment to realize that they were being taken to an island that was covered in a mishmash of Formarothian, Seikatsu, and Elven style buildings. He had read of this island of course, the Island of the Gaijin. It was the only place a none-Iban was permitted to land when in Akaiba and he felt a flash of irritation. He was an ambassador by all that was holy.

"Go there!" He pointed to the main jetty, some distance further beyond. His Iban was atrocious and he knew it. The pilot simply shook his head.

"Forbidden." Was all the man said. Cillotah would have stomped his feet if he thought it would work but his short time with the Iban aboard had convinced him it would have only reinforced the idea of a spolied elven princeling.

You disgust me, elf. The pilot watched the elven ambassador from the corner of his eye. You do not think that we all know you bring war to our lands? I think you will find nothing but your grave here. He spun the ships wheel expertly to guide the vessel between a pair of big barges that were crawling across the harbour. He stood on his toes to see properly and then gave a shout in badly accented elven.

"Sheet home sail! Launch boats!" The crew stared at him for a moment until the ships captain snarled the order again and they rushed to obey. The ships momentum dropped away until they were barely gliding across the surface of the ocean. The ships boats were quickly lowered and willing elves took to the oars, pulling strongly to draw the ship closer to the Island of the Gaijin.

"Drop anchor!" The pilot did not need his ordered echoed this time and the anchor roared overboard, shattering the calm water with a huge splash. "There. I go now." The pilot didn't wait for a response as he strode to the side and dropped into his own little boat. He lifted the oars into place and began to row toward the island.

As if on cue a decorated barge put out from the island, four large sweeps drawing it quickly across the water toward the elvish ship. Cillotah could make out eight oarsmen, four samuari, and one man in a plain grey robe. He made eye contact with Cillotah as the barge drew closer and though he raised no hand in greeting, the elf knew his counter part had arrived.

The ships crew hastily set up a table and chairs on the deck, clearing a space for the two to speak. Cillotah was already seated, a small silver mug with elven wine in front of him, when he heard the Iban boat gently bump into the side of the ship. The Iban ambassador swiftly gained the desk flanked by a pair of watchful samurai who looked about them without expression. A stoic bunch indeed. Cillotah stood and bowed to the Iban who returned the gesture.

"Welcome, I am Prince Cillotah Dinoine of the Elven Imperium."

"Shintaro Abe, on behalf of his lordship, the Shogun Sadatake Ayeka."

It took Cillotah a moment to remember that the Iban put their last names first, identifying their house and therefore their lineage. He did not recognize Shintaro but thought it best to keep that knowledge to himself. The Iban tended to be a touchy lot and there was no sense antagonizing their ambassador.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Cillotah sat, gesturing to the other chair. The Iban looked at it for a moment and then perched on the edge of the seat.

"I was ordered to do so. It is my duty." Shintaro responded. And if I have my way I will personally hack your head from your shoulders, you blue skinned snake. He, like many of his kin, had lost family in the various engagements with the Imperium. It was likewise common knowledge that the Imperium had come to Seikatsu with the intention of conquering the continent. What is it you want?

"Duty is important, is it not." Cillotah found himself agreeing with the Iban. When the other man did not reply he decided to get to business. From what he had read, the Iban were not ones for small talk when it came to dealing with foreigners. "I have come to offer your Shogun an alliance."

"Go on." The Iban did not even bat an eye at the idea.

"You are no doubt aware that our forces have landed in Beival with the intention of securing that region for the Imperium." Again the Iban remained silent. "General Neldor, supreme commander of our armies, would like to invite you to join us in crushing your traditional foes in Draivim and Keraam. In return he offers to turn Keraam over to Akaiba as a client state and identify that as the new border between your great state and ours."

Right, and I am the Queen of Formaroth. Shintaro wanted to laugh in the elfs face but he had been given strict instruction by the Shogun.

“Let the elf make his offer. I imagine he will dangle the lure of Kareem in our faces as though we cannot take the territory on our own. Never forget, the elf thinks he is superior to the human and the idea that we are powerful in our own right has probably never crossed his mind. When he offers you the bait, take it, say thank you, and then we will destroy him.” The Shogun had been very clear and Shintaro knew that for every idea he himself had, Ayeka was ten ideas ahead of him.

Praise the gods that he is on the throne now. Any other one of his siblings and we would be dead already. Shintaro resisted the urge to smile slightly and nodded slowly as if he were considering the elvish offer.

“They will take the offer. They have no choice. They cannot fight us and Kareemese at the same time.” Neldor had been confident when he had issued his instructions to Cillotah before the ship had sailed for Akaiba. “We, on the other hand, can conquer their whole kind without assistance. But wouldn’t it be nice if they helped?” How the assembled officers had chuckled at the notion.

“How do you intend to have use assist?” Shintaro asked, still immobile on the edge of his seat. A pair of seagulls circled overhead screaming and one shit on the table between the two men. Cillotah started. Shinatro did not move.

“Er, General Neldor suggested that an Imperial army land in Noiba, and with your support, march on Kareem from the west. This would catch them between our two forces and allow us to ensure none can flee to regroup later.”

Exactly as Ayeka said they would suggest. Shintaro felt a glow of admiration for his Shogun. The man was as clever as his daughter was beautiful. “I find this acceptable. How many soldiers will you be sending?”

“Seventy thousand.” Cillotah said proudly, expecting some sort of reaction from Shintaro but the man might as well have been carved of stone. He snapped his fingers and a map was brought forward and spread across the table, smearing the seagull shit across the back. “I would suggest here.” He tapped a bay roughly half the way along the Noiban coast.

“No.” Shintaro said simply. “Here.” He tapped a point much deeper into Kareem. “Our armies already occupy much of their territory and your army will be of no use in the fighting if it is hiding behind our lines.”

“Provoke him, but carefully.” Ayeka had said as Shintaro took his leave. “Suggest that his race are cowards. He will take the bait.”

“Very well,” snapped Cillotah , stung by the insult that elven forces would hide behind anyone. “This is agreeable. We can have our armies in place in one month. Will that suit you?”

“Yes, perfectly.” Shintaro nodded and sat back on his edge once again.

“All that remains is for us to draw up the paperwork then, and the smaller details of course.” Cillotah waved a pair of scribes forward and the real negotiations began.

Featuring: Kiseo
Location: Elian estate, Fishgrove - Formaroth
Time: Afternoon to Evening- Late Autumn to Early Winter (2 weeks after Dyril left)

---

Autumn changed into winter, the frost settled onto the town like a thin blanket. The sea brought in more frigid air to force patrons to collect their furred cloaks and boots. Overhead, the skies took on a grey hue to match the bleak landscape. On occasion, snow began to waft downward in small flurries.

On the Elian estate, Kiseo managed to keep authority.

She instructed the hired help to walk between each plowed row of mandrakes. Their mounds now were frozen solid, keeping their seeds snug and safe from predatory birds. Many of the wandering people now huddled underneath their handcrafted cloaks, eager to finished their shift. Their eyes sparingly looked over to the more modestly dressed Mao.

Her spotted coat stood out against the pure white and grey of the village. It gave her extra protection against the elements, supported by a thinner cloak. As usual, she wore no boots thanks to her rough footpads. Silently she glided from one row to another, ensuring no one was slacking.

As she bent down to brush away the snow, a female voice cried. Kiseo's ears flipped back and determined the source's direction.

"Kiseo, we found another!"

Alarm and determine fluttered onto the young Mao's expression as she rose upright. Her feet bounded across the rows to the waving woman. Already several others who had finished their rows gathered. Men with shoves and a child with a small pot, filled with warm and loose dirt.

There had been more early sprouts than Kiseo had ever seen back in the Beilokias . Back then, it took months for any of them to show. Here, in Fishgrove, it took only two weeks.

Kiseo suspected it was Fishgrove's soil. It might've held more beneficial nutrients for mandrakes than Dyril theorized. It was a positive and negative thing for those who took care of them. They developed far earlier than she expected them to and each one required a judgment call. She hoped to please her mistress with her dedication.

Her heart pounded in fear as she drew closer. As instructed since the first found sprout, their eyes turned to her for guidance. She hunched down to inspect the cleared ground. Her hands cradled the small green leaf, yellowed a bit from frostbite, to warm it.

"Gerey, can you insert your spade here?" She tapped about three inches from the side.

"Do it nice and slow to test if the soil is frozen. If it is, we need a pickax instead."

Her eyes spotted the young girl, All, struggle with the pot far too big for her.

"Someone help Alil with the pot and bring a torch to hold underneath, ensuring it stays warm."

They all moved with purpose as they worked together to loosen the frozen mandrake. After a long hour, they managed to replant it into the pot. Alil and another adult took it inside where it would sit with the others.

Gerey frowned, sweaty and covered in frost, as he turned to Kiseo.

"That's what, the fourth one this week?"

Kiseo rose back to her feet and nodded, "Yes. It's odd, they don't usually sprout until about three months."

"We planted these damn things two weeks ago. Is this normal?"

"Not all. I'm not sure what's happening, but it is both bad and good."

"What makes you think that? I don't see anything good about digging these things out of the ground when it's frozen."

They finished up their work, finding no other early sprouting mandrake. Much to everyone's relief. Kiseo paid them their weekly wages and bide them farewell until the next morning.

After she finished watering the potted mandrakes, Kiseo turned to the fire. She bent at the waist and snatched a dried log. The fire dimmed when she tossed it in, then rushed up to devour it. It did well to illuminate the small hut-like house.

It was nothing luxurious like the rooms in the Little Cottage Inn at Nyhem, but it held its own rustic charm.

The whole place was a single room. Smooth stone created the base while thatch and wood created a triangle style roof. There was a small square opening high above the fire pit. A few smaller rocks sat in the still-hot ashes, turned over to warm the other side.

Kiseo walked back to the far end. Several pots of plants were being kept hot by many rocks positioned nearby. It appeared to do the trick to keep the rain, wind, and cold outside. Without any debris on the stone floor, the possibility of them catching fire was slim.

After she replaced the colder ones, she drifted back to her chair beside the fire. She enjoyed the cracking sounds it created. It provided some comfort in her isolation as she watched it closely.

Memories were her entertainment while she began to patch her clothing. An image of her mother, in a rocking chair, caused her to smile. She would sew Dyril's dresses while she moved back and forth, enjoying their play.

Kiseo's heart hurt for a moment when recalled the older Mao's death. The violence left a bitter taste in her soul. Between the depressing thoughts and the fire's warmth, she had begun to fall asleep.

CRASH!

A rock flew through one of the front windows into a wall that served to be the pantry. Abruptly the Mao jumped up and rushed to the door. She jerked it open and stared into the darkness. Her night vision spotted some movements of children or adults fleeing into the woods.

Several moments passed and adrenaline died down in her head. She closed the door with a soft thud. In and out, Kiseo breathed to regain her calm once more.

Still shaken, she moved to the pantry. A rock had shattered one of the clay pots housing the salt causing her to frown. It appeared there was still some prejudice even in the now peaceful Fishgrove.

---

The shogun's daughter watched from the deck of the Storm Reaver as the vessel approached foreign shores. They had been at sea for nearly a month's time and while she was glad to see land, Kanna also felt uneasy. A crisp autumn breeze tugged at her black haori, a kimono-like overcoat that she had brought for the impending colder weather that went over the more formal kimono she wore for landfall. She should be in her cabin to protect the fabric of her clothes, but she wanted to see Nyhem for herself as soon as it came into view. Everything about this new country was different from Akaiba, even the waters they currently sailed in.

As the shore drew closer, she was able to make out the city. The guide she hired for this trip, a Nyhem native woman named Meredith, had informed her on their journey about the history of the city and some of it's customs. Meredith was to serve as her guide and translator while in the country, as Kanna has some knowledge of the language, she was simply not accustomed to speaking it nor was knowledgeable about social formalities. Directly in front of the ship, and what drew her attention, was a grand cathedral that stood at the edge of the city and the mouth of the river. While still at a distance, she couldn't make out intricate details but she could tell the building had ornate windows that were nestled into white stone walls and protected by red tiled roofs with high peaks. While the people of Akaiba have their own religious practices, temples, and shrines, she found the Cathedral in comparison to be both beautiful and excessive.

Behind the cathedral was the rest of the city, but she could only make out the red roofs. To it's left stood the keep that was home to their Emperor. Kanna didn't understand why such an important building would be at the front of the city unless they never planned to be assaulted here. The building had the same color scheme as the rest of the buildings of Nyhem. From her position at sea she could only see it's high reaching peaked roofs and tall crenelated outer walls. She could see no entryway from her position, so she assumed there was only one main entry in and out.

Only time will tell if their military might is as great as they think it is.

With that final thought, Kanna turned to go back below deck to allow the men to work unhindered as the Reaver crept ever closer to the port.

-----

Cerlina had arrived at the docks with a dozen Cawanorian soldiers, all of them in ceremonial armour. Alasdair had tasked Cerlina with the duty of welcoming Kanna Sadatake to the city and guiding her to the keep. While this task would normally be beneath someone of her status this guest was someone very special indeed. It wasn’t everyday that Iba Royalty visited Nyhem and Alasdair didn’t want to insult them by sending someone of low importance. Soon the golden dragon sails of Kanna’s ship could be seen making it’s way into port and before long her ship had made dock. Cerlina gestured to the cawanorian soldiers who in unison formed two lines either side of her and stood at attention. Eventually a woman who Cerlina could only assume was Kanna disembarked. She was unusually pale for a Seikatsu native, with dark raven black hair. It was here Cerlina made her move

“Princess Kanna” She said as she approached her, the cawanorian bodyguard following in perfect sync “On behalf of the crown I welcome you to Nyhem, and by extension Formaroth” She continued with a slight curtsy.

As Cerlina spoke, Kanna focused all of her attention on the woman before her. She was an attractive woman, with her pale yellow hair and dark green eyes. A color not typically found in her people. When Cerlina finished Kanna turned her head slightly to her right, where Meredith stood. The other woman's shoulder length brown hair brushed her shoulder as she leaned in to repeat what was said word for word into Kanna's ear, but she had paid Meredith to be more than a translator.

"Before you is Marchioness Cerlina Tuania, she is the Emperor’s head advisor and rules in his absence."

Kanna nodded and thanked her companion before responding in her native tongue to Cerlina. Meredith Translated as Kanna spoke.

"Thank you Cerlina-san for such a prestigious welcome." Kanna bowed in greeting, the soft silks of her clothes whispered as she moved and the haori opened slightly to reveal the ornate kimono she wore underneath. It was mostly black in color, but would transition into red halfway through the long sleeves and body of the kimono. It was decorated with golden lined white cranes, some of which were in flight, others stood in the golden threaded waters that decorated the skirt of the kimono. The obi itself was golden and had a matching wave pattern to the robe-like dress. It was tied in a taiko drum knot, which was her current favorite style. The hiyoku and nagajuban collars that peaked underneath were more simple and only white in color. "You have such a beautiful city, I hope I get to see more of it during my time here."

“I hope your trip here was a pleasant one, I understand the winds between Nyhem and Seikatsu are not always the most favourable” Cerlina said as she gestured for Kanna to follow her. The carriage that Cerlina had used to get to the docks stood behind her. The carriage itself was made of finely crafted oak wood with red silk curtains on both sides to give the occupants privacy.

"The winds appeared to have been on our side for this journey, as the sail here was as pleasant as could be. Hopefully that is a foreshadowing for my visit." Kanna followed Cerlina as she spoke, her wooden shoes clacking against the stone streets of Nyhem. She was mindful of her footing as one wrong step would surely result in a sprained ankle and she was not going to embarrass herself so. Her own personal samurai followed suit, a dark contrast to the soldiers of the foreign king in their black armour and red demon masks. They fell in line with the plated men as their role was carefully discussed on their approach to port and didn't require her instruction.

“Let us hope so” Cerlina replied as she signalled to the carriage driver who opened the door for them. As he did Cerlina stepped inside and took a seat on one side of the carriage. The inside walls of the carriage were covered in green velvet while the wooden seats had an array of different cushions many of which bore the white wolf sigil of house Tuania. Cerlina got herself comfortable as she waited for Kanna to enter.

The young woman took her time climbing into the carriage as her kimono restricted her movements. She took a seat across from Cerlina as her translator took the space next to her and arranged the cushions to her liking. Once comfortable, she crossed and her tucked ankles, her hands were neatly folded on her lap.

Once Kanna had gotten herself comfortable Cerlina gave a tap to the roof of the carriage, signaling the driver to take them back to the keep.

***

Kanna found the carriage ride to be a pleasant experience and managed to have some decent small talk with Cerlina. The ride allowed her to see the side of the keep that was previously blocked from her approach from the ocean. Her earlier assumption appeared to hold true as the keep seemingly had only one main entrance, which was further protected, or hindered depending on one’s point of view, by a drawbridge. As the carriage approached the main gate, she was able to look along the smoothed outer walls of the keep down to the unforgiving waters around it. The wagon rattled along across the bridge, through the gate, and into a main courtyard where Kanna caught the eyes of many guards as she peeked through it’s curtained windows. Some eyes were well trained and impassive, others were curious, and even fewer eyes were scrutinizing, almost as if they waited for an excuse to dismiss her. None of these things mattered to her as she was here to negotiate with their King. She didn’t need their admiration or acceptance.

As the carriage pulled to a stop, the Captain of her guard approached the carriage door. While all her guard were identically dressed, she knew whom it was based solely on his gait. Toshiro-san was very adamant about being the one to assist Kanna in these circumstances. While it was well known that she was fully capable of defending herself, it was their job to guarantee her safety. If any harm would come to her, they would commit honorable suicide and that, she could not allow. Akaiba needed all of her men. As the door opened, she reached out a tender hand towards Toshiro, who took it in his own gloved grip and a slight bow at his waist. Once in his possession, she allowed herself a view of the courtyard they had pulled into. It was definitely different than the ones back home, as the people of Nyhem seemed to care more about perfection rather than the natural flow of a space. Every plant was perfectly groomed to look as identical to the next and while it was weird to her, she couldn’t deny they were beautiful. The stonework of the courtyard was well maintained, from the road slabs at their feet to the high reaching red roofs of the keep.

From here she was guided to the great hall. To say it was spacious, would have been an understatement, with it’s far reaching walls and robust pillars. The men’s footsteps echoed against the white and black marbled floor of the hall, while Kanna’s were muffled by the red carpet she walked on that stretched the length of the room up to the throne that was currently empty. Her dark brown eyes took in the scene before her calmly. They would have to wait for the King to make his entrance.

A short time passed before Alasdair made his entrance into the great hall followed by Lanaya and then Alex. He had purposely waited a few minutes before entering the hall, to make a subtle point that he held higher authority and as such Kanna should wait for an audience with him. He gracefully made his way up the dais to his throne; Cerlina had already taken her place to the side of the throne and had seated herself on a wooden chair placed on a lower step of the dais. Additional chairs had been placed on the dais for the other high council members. Alex took his seat nervously, this had been the first time he had sat so high on dais; normally he found himself on the bottom step and now there was much more attention focused on him. Lanaya had already perched elegantly on the seat allocated to her, casting an appraising, piercing gaze across the Akaiba princess and her guard. Two servants who until now had been standing on one side of the hall picked up a chair and brought it over to Kanna. The chair itself wasn’t ugly by any means but bore much less beauty than the chairs of the high councilors and drastically less so than the throne Alasdair sat in. Another subtle nudge from Alasdair to make sure Kanna knew who was the true royal in this room. Alasdair waited until everyone had been seated before finally speaking.

“Welcome to Nyhem Princess Kanna” Alasdair said with a polite smile “It is quite a journey from Akaiba to Nyhem, I trust their must be great importance behind your visit for Shogun Ayeka’s to send his own flesh and blood to me”?

Kanna maintained an exterior demeanor of polite calm, while internally she was annoyed. The power play was not new to Kanna, as many in seats of power at home tried to play the same game, especially within the walls of their own estates. But the gesture was unnecessary as Kanna was in a vulnerable position in this forgein land and she did not need to be reminded of it. As the scene played before her, Meredith took the time to introduce each person to her as well as noted the absence of two members of the high council. Either they were away or did not deem her arrival to be important for them to meet with her. Regardless, she had all she needed in this room.

Returning his smile with one of her own, Kanna bowed towards Alasdair and his council as was customary for her people, causing her black hair to shift slightly forward as it was pulled back in a loose, but elegant ponytail. "Thank you for such a gracious welcome to your city Emperor Alasdair-sama. I am honored that you would allow Cerlina-san to greet me and my party at the docks and serve as my escort to the castle." Kanna paused, allowing Meredith to finish translating her words to her audience before continuing. "Indeed it was a long journey from Akaiba and I would not have taken it myself unless both my father and I deemed it absolutely necessary as there is much to be done back home.”

Alasdair tilted his head slightly before replying.
"And what matters of Akaiba might concern the Lords of Formaroth"?

While still maintaining her demeanor, she allowed herself to fix him with a sharper gaze. ”Are you aware of the movements of the Imperium?”

Alasdair paused for a moment as he dreaded what Kanna was about to say next. Ever since the Beilokias trade ships had stopped coming to Formaroth, Alasdair had been unable to get word from the spies he had implanted in the imperium. But he knew that whatever reason the imperium had for suddenly cutting off trade was unlikely to be good for Formaroth.

“Ever since the imperium suddenly cut off trade with us I have heard little of what the imperium has been planning, I trust you bring new information”?

Kanna carefully watched Alasdair’s face as she spoke. There seemed to already be apprehension in his features.”The Imperium intend to sail against Seikatsu with an invasion force of at least 800,000 men, possibly more.”

Alasdair remained silent. He knew this would inevitably happen. He had warned John when he was on the throne and yet he dismissed the threat. He had warned Helyot before him who had only laughed in his face. He had warned Andris and the other high nobles when they had met to debate the next ruler of Formaroth that dividing the kingdom in a civil war would encourage the imperium to invade. For years he had been aware of the threat the elves possessed and no one had listened. Part of him felt bitter about it, another smug that he finally proved everyone else wrong, but most of him felt fear. Formaroth was now too weak to repel the imperium and if Seikatsu fell Formaroth would soon be next.

“Knowing the imperium, it probably will be more” Alasdair replied with a half smile that could have meant anything.

“This is extremely concerning.” Lana said, keeping her voice free of fear but letting her tone convey how seriously she took the warning. “Consider how many capable mages will be among their ranks as well.” Then, addressing Kanna specifically, she asked. “What will Seikatsu do about this? Is your land united enough to hold?”

"What will Seikatsu do? What else is there to do when an enemy comes knocking at your door? You either fight… or you die." Kanna moved her hands that were resting comfortably on the arms of her chair to fold them in her lap. It wasn’t a nervous gesture, but an anticipatory one. "Both my father and brother are working to unite Seikatsu against this threat.”

“Uniting Seikatsu to save it, a most noble and difficult task, as I am sure you have already discovered” Alasdair replied with a smile, while he was shaken by the announcement of the imperium’s invasion he wasn’t going to let it show “So tell me if your efforts are focused on uniting Seikatsu what brings you here to formaroth?” Alasdair was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"I sit here before you when a messenger could have easily taken my place, bringing with me the hope and trust of my people, to ask for aid against the imperial might that threatens to crash against our shores." Kanna's features softened before she spoke her next words, letting the unease and pressure she felt show. "I have come so that you may take this threat seriously and understand the lengths I am going through to come before foreign monarchs, on foreign land, to ask for alliance against an enemy that may very well end us all…"

“I suppose the situation must be dire if the emperor of Akaiba is desperate enough to seek help from Formaroth” Alasdair replied, hinting at the way that many residents of the Iba kingdoms looked down upon the western human nations “Still, you are aware Fomaroth has only just begun recovering from the civil war that the usurper Andris Manadarass started. The realm remains split and many kingdoms are in a state of rebellion. If I were to divert troops to Seikatsu what would stop my rival here from invading my lands the moment my forces left”?

”I was not, but may I first ask, if you do not assist us, will you be able to stop a war on two fronts? While I cannot guarantee your enemies won’t take advantage of your absence should they choose not to unite before a bigger threat, I can guarantee our forces should you need to reclaim what is yours.”

Alasdair paused for a minute, it was true that the imperium threat needed to be dealt with. As much as he wanted to wipe house Blackwell from the face of the earth his vendetta against them would have to wait. All the same he would do his best to take advantage of this situation “Your offer to retake stolen land is an appreciated one, and one I will hold you to, however if I am being asked to send my men to Seikatsu while Formaroth is still in turmoil I expect something in return. What can Akaiba offer Formaroth in exchange for our assistance”?

"What would you desire from Akaiba? I can offer our military strength, negotiate more favorable trade, and exchange knowledge of magical arts. I am head of the healing order and our people are knowledgeable in many schools. So long as it is reasonable, I can offer nearly anything."

Alasdair turned to his side as he consulted with Cerlina who in return offered her own advice. Once he had finished he turned back to face Kanna. “If we provide you with military assistance then that is what we expect in return. After the imperium threat has been dealt with there is no doubt that the chaos that has befallen Formaroth will continue. The samurai of Seikatsu will certainly be of great assistance in aiding our efforts in stabilizing the realm”.

“The Mages Circle will send battlemages to aid Seikatsu as well.” Lana began, her voice proud and confident. “But in return, we will expect the Runelords to accept our offer of an academic position on the faculty of the Circle. It is past time that the human realms shared our arcane knowledge with each other.”

”I am agreeable to both of these terms and will make sure they are upheld." Kanna spoke with conviction. On her honor as a samurai, Madoushi, and a noblewoman, if she had to come herself to collect the heads of their enemies, she would. She would make sure her father and brother understood these terms, as they were the price of Akaiba’s continued existence in this world and she would not be forsworn.

Alasdair once again mumbled to Cerlina, he didn't actually have anything to say for he had already made up his mind, he just wanted to make Kanna feel as if he was more hesitant to accept these terms than he actually was. The more reluctant he seemed with these terms, the more likely he could pressure for a better deal later.

"Very well Lady Kanna, these terms seem acceptable for now. Please allow me a few days to finalise this deal with my advisors. You are welcome to remain here in the keep until then".

"Will I be required to remain at the keep for finalization or can I return to assist my people with preparations?"

"Alas you must remain here, else if changes are made before the pact is written we will have no one to negotiate with" Alasdair said with a smile "but do not feel I hold you against your will. Please take this time to explore Nyhem, hopefully the beauty of our capital will help take your mind off the dread you must be feeling for your homeland".

”I understand. In the meantime, I will send a messenger hawk back to my father to bring him up to speed.” Kanna stood, removing her haori as she did so not because she was hot, but because in order to give respect to another custom required it. She removed her sandals before she walked a few steps forward from her chair down the plush carpet until she was far away enough from the chair for her purposes. While her hands neatly smoothed her kimono, she knelt in one fluid motion, her knees touching the ground at the same time. The tops of her feet laid flat on the floor, pointed straight back, and her backside rested on her heels. She sat with a straight posture and placed her hands face down on her thighs, her arms relaxed at her side. She could sit this way for hours if she needed to. Kanna did not notice if the guard had moved during this time as her focus was all on the people before her. ”On behalf of my country and my people, Thank you.” As she spoke, she bent forward, her back completely straight as she did so and her hands moved forward at the same time, the right leading the left to rest cupped on the ground about 7cm in front of her forming a narrow wedge with the tips of her forefingers touching. She bent slowly until her face was about 5cm from the floor, her chest touched the tops of her thighs and she kept her arms in close with her forearms touching the outside of her knees. It was all done in one practiced fluid motion and was a bow of the utmost respect her people gave. She held this bow for a few seconds before returning to the seated position.

Alasdair felt a great deal of satisfaction as he watched Kanna bow before him. After serving royalty for most of his life it gave him great joy to see them bow before him.

"You may stand princess Kanna" Alasdair replied "we will send for you when we need you again"

Kanna stood and looked upon the western ruler before returning to her shoes and departing with her men. He seemed fairly pleased, but she hoped he would understand the meaning of her bow, rather than have it something to be expected moving forward. Only time would tell which would hold true. Gathering the samurai, she departed the throne room and returned to the courtyard. She had a message to send back to her father.

“You were funded to produce spark-powder for the crown, not to use our money to pursue your own personal interests” Cerlina said sharply. She had arrived at Ignocious’s lab along with a handful of guards to ascertain the progress Ignocious had been making with his work. Only to find that no progress had been made on spark-powder in over a month and Ignocious attaching glowing enchanted vines to a stone statue lying on its back.

“Actually I think you will find that the crown agreed to fund all my projects” Ignocious replied. Cerlina had been in the room for nearly five minutes now, Ignocious had yet to even look her way further infuriating the Tuania noble.

“Under the condition that your primary focus was on developing the spark powder” Cerlina retorted her patience for the alchemists antics starting to wear thin “You were not to start any of your other projects until your research into spark powder was finished”.

“I am aware” Ignocious replied still focusing on inserting the enchanted vines into the crevices on his golem’s surface. It was a very dangerous process and any skin contact made with the enchanted vines could have serious consequences on his health. As such he wore thick leather gloves making the procedure of attaching the vines even more laborious than it already was and Cerlina’s nagging was not helping “Which why I decided my work on spark-powder to be completed over a month ago.'' To this Cerlina’s face turned sour.

“Explain yourself and quickly” Cerlina growled. Ignocious let out a sigh as Cerlina continued to interrupt his work.

“I have done what was asked of me. I was able to reduce the size of the sparkpowder vessel so that it can be carried in a foot soldier’s hand. Now any farmboy your recruit to your army will be able to make use of this weapon, providing their smart enough not blow themselves up. Your welcome” He said with a smirk

“Yes you reduced the size of the vessel but at a significant cost to the explosive strength. Any mage adept enough at destruction magic could cast a spell twice as damaging”. Cerlina replied trying her best to remain calm in the face of Ignocious’s arrogance.

“Perhaps, but unlike mages you can create an endless supply of spark-powder, providing you have the material” Ignocious replied as he successfully inserted a vine around his golems neck

“Which brings us to our next problem” Cerlina continued. “The materials you use to create spark powder are difficult to come by. Even with the crowns funding we can only buy as much as is available on the market, which as I am sure you know isn’t a lot”. For the first time since Cerlina arrived Ignocious turned to face her.

“I cannot control the availability of the materials required,” he said with a simple shrug “Despite the title of ‘alchemist’, we cannot create something from nothing, only manipulate something into something else”. Cerlina didn’t look convinced

“Perhaps not, but surely you can make your materials go further or have a smaller quantity have a larger effect” Cerlina said. It took Ignocious all his strength not to burst out laughing, it was clear she didn’t understand basic chemistry.

“I cannot control the laws of nature either, to make a substantial explosion sufficient materials are required. An explosion cannot come from nothing, nor can the ingredients make a product that is greater than their own value”. Cerlina looked Ignocious dead in the eye with a withering stare that would chill any normal man to the bone, Ignocious on the other hand simply looked annoyed.

“For such a smart man, you made foolish decision by lying to the crown. How exactly did you think it would end for you when it was discovered you have been pilfering the emperor’s purse for your own gains”. Ignocious stood unfazeded with a confidence that made Cerlina’s guards uncomfortable.

“I did not lie, I told the truth of the progress that I made, I simply didn't mention the progress made on spark-powder was complete” Ignocious said with a smile

“A lie of Omission is still a lie. I will give you one chance to explain to me why I shouldn’t have my guards arrest you right now” Cerlina said as she signalled her guards who started to surround Ignocious.

“Because spark-powder is merely a taste of what I have to offer the empire, what I am currently working on will be far more benfically I can assure you” Ignocious said as he turned to face the golem

“A...old dwarven statue” Cerlina replied doubtfully. Ignocious decided not to waste time explaining himself, he decided to let his golem do that for him.

“Awaken my warrior” Ignocious shouted in the ancient language of the dwarves. The vines glowed far stronger than they had been before appearing like veins fueling the golems body. The once inanimate statue came to life, slowly lifting itself off the ground and standing at attention. Almost immediately the guards ran away from the golem knocking over tables and vases of spark-powder, greatly annoying Ignocious. One guard even ran out of the building in fear. Cerlina stumbled back in shock as the two meters high statue that would have taken at least a dozen full grown men to lift stood up on it’s own accord with seemingly no effort. Despite Ignocious’s annoyance on the clumsiness of Cerlina’s guards, it was easily offset by the reaction of those first witnessing his creation.

“Behold” Ignocious exclaimed “Golem raise your right hand” the hulking golem did so without hesitation “Golem take a step forward” again the golem obeyed “Golem lean backward” once again the golem obeyed, angling it’s body backwards and yet still maintaining it’s balance. Ignocious turned around to face the dumbfounded Cerlina, a grin stretching from ear to ear “I am sure his majesty would agree that an army of stone giants would be worth the cost of continuing to fund my projects”. It took Cerlina a moment to compose herself before she finally spoke

“Why didn’t you tell us about this before” Cerlina said, while she stammered a bit she had done well to recover from the initial shock. In turn a number of the guards had stopped cowering and resumed their posts, being careful to keep their distance from the golem. The guard who ran out the door earlier hadn’t returned, no doubt he would be dismissed or even imprisoned for abandoning the noble he had sworn to defend. Ignocious was a bit disappointed at how quickly Cerlina had come to terms with his golem.

“If I told the crown my work on the spark-powder was complete I had no reason to believe that you wouldn’t cut my funding right there and then. If that happened it would have taken me months to afford the materials I needed to continue my research”. Though he didn’t mention it, Ignocious also didn’t want to reveal his golem until he had finished activating it. He feared that one of the other alchemists might have stolen his work and taken credit for it. He knew if he mentioned this he would be seen as paranoid. “So yes, maybe I somewhat withheld the full truth of my research” he continued visually weighing his hands to either side of him “but in the end I would say it worked to everyone's benefit wouldn’t you agree”. He was about to give another smirk before the golem made a noise behind him once again scaring the guards. The vines that had been glowing brightly suddenly extinguished and the golem fell backwards onto the wooden floor causing it to break and splinter. Ignocious was unfazed, he had been expecting this and had ordered it to lean backwards because of it. The last time this happened it had almost crushed him. “However as you can see my work is still far from complete, right now the enchanted plants I am using to power my warrior will only sustain it for a matter of minutes, it would have lasted a few more minutes if you hadn’t interrupted me earlier” Ignocious said as he looked at the guards. While it was directed at Cerlina he knew that if he spoke to a noble, let alone the head advisor, in such a way it wouldn’t end well for him.

“I’m assuming you have a solution to this, otherwise this is nothing more than a spectacle” Cerlina questioned. Ignocious furrowed his brow

“For a matter of fact I do. It seems the dwarves used some sort of unknown power source to power their golems based here” Ignocious said as he pointed to a hole in the golems chest “Alas, whatever magic they used to power them has been lost to the sea of time. As such we must rely on other means. This brings me to the next step of my plans” Ignocious said as he turned to face Cerlina “From what I gather an elven merchant of notable influence arrived here in Nyhem with a large quantity of plants known as Mandrakes”.

Some time ago, just before the party at Nyhem Keep

It was a cool night. Perhaps the chill she felt was only within her own body, perhaps it wasn't... but cool was decidedly what Drevala felt in the air. As she alighted upon the balcony of the guest room she inhabited in Lana's home, she shifted and back into her human form and rushed into the room as quickly as her fatigued limbs would carry her.

She was in one of her usual peasant-ish dresses, wild and filthy from yet another expedition into the woods. Her eyes were dark and her lids felt heavy, so very heavy. But she couldn't rest, not yet. She had to get things off her chest, get a weight off her shoulders. She staggered through the room and shifted her bag off of her shoulders, then dug her hand into it and pulled out that damnable journal that has haunted her thoughts for the past weeks.

She gripped it in her hands tightly, throwing the bag aside, and stumbled out of the room, slumping on a wall as she hugged the book to her chest.

"L-Lana..." She sighed, hugging herself tighter. "I'm sorry..." She whispered to herself, scrunching her eyes tightly shut as a shudder went through her body. As quickly as this unbearable wave of emotion hit her, it passed and that darkness lingered in her eyes. She inhaled deeply and pushed off the wall, strength filling her limbs as she tapped into her final reserves of strength.

She made her way through the home, following the smells and sounds that wafted around her until she finally found herself meandering towards Lana's room.

Dinner. I've arrived at dinner. All disheveled and filthy, to boot. she chastised herself, but couldn't make herself back down.

She moved up to the door to Lana's room and rapped upon it with her knuckles in a customarily friendly knock.

"L-Lana?" She called in. "It's me. Drevala." she said in a neutral tone- which, considering her usual excitement and joviality, was a rather dour one in comparison.

"Drevala, come in." Lana's voice carried through the door, a pleasant tone to it, quite unlike the neutral, oft impatient tone used to respond to servants at her door.

This night she was taking dinner in her room, where she could continue to study uninterrupted - a habit that had grown as she had gained more titles and responsibilities. These days it seemed if she didn't hide away in her studies, she was stuck hosting, or being hosted by, an endless stream of nobles and merchants wanting an audience. She delicately set down the silver cutlery in her hands and stood as the door opened, walking over to lightly embrace her friend.

She expertly hid a scowl, brought on by the dirt Drevala had somehow trod in. She was slowly getting used to her fellow mage's particular capacity to remain dirty even through a shape shift. It was unfortunate, but a minor nuisance to bear for the sake of having a close friend in arms reach.

Drevala buried her face in Lana"s hair, but did not release the book she clutched to her breast to return the embrace. She inhaled deeply and seemed to relax from some unseen stress, before pulling away with some reluctance.

"Sorry to bother you so suddenly- er... And for not changing first. It's... Important."

Drevala delicately moved into the room so as to not be standing in the doorway. She seemed wild, almost as wild as she was as a young girl first learning to change shapes back on the summer isles before she learned to reign herself in and play the part of 'human' properly. She fidgeted and rubbed her shoes together as if they made her uncomfortable, but she didn't kick them off.

"She's probably going to hate me, gods above..." she groaned to herself, as if Lana weren't even there to hear her.

"You're never a bother to me Drevala. You know that." Lana said earnestly.

Though they had not been reunited all that long in the grand scheme of things, it was not hard for Lana to sense the stress her friend was clearly suffering under now. It quickly sparked concern in her mind. There were not a lot of things in this world that the Dragonslayer found agitating. Several plausible disastrous scenarios flickered through Lana's mind then, but she dismissed them all to focus on the present.

"Why would I hate you?" Lana asked. "You're my friend, practically my sister. You can tell me anything."

"My book. I need my book. I'll explain what I can once I have a moment with my book- will you get it for me, Lana?"

The woman whirled about with a sort of exhausted grace. As if it hadn't occurred to her to face Lana as she spoke until after she finished speaking. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the journal in her hands. She bit her lip nervously as she eyed Lana.

Naturally she could only mean one book- the only book of hers in Lana's possession.

"I... I don't know how much I can say, but I'll tell you what I can- Oh, Lana, my head spins so! I must write this down before I forget, please get the book!"

She rushed to Lana's desk and grasped around for a quill as she spoke, frantic in her actions.

Lana was somewhat taken aback by the desperation that seemed to overcome her friend. She walked to her bookshelf and without even seeming to look, picked Drevala's book out.

She spoke as she moved back towards the desk, concern filling her voice. "Drevala, what is wrong? Can I help in any way?"

She placed the book carefully on the desk, pushing the plate with her unfinished dinner to the side so as to avoid risking damage to any of the books or papers upon the large desk.

Drevala flipped through both books rapidly; diagrams of dragons, their scales, their wings- everything one could ever wish to know about the great beasts flipped before their eyes until Drevala settled on a page depicting what she referred to as the dragon's 'fire bladder'- the area of its body it stored fire to exhale as a weapon.

She then flipped open the journal she so tightly clung to, leaning over it as if trying to hide its contents from Lana, until she reached a blank page. She then began to copy her own work, detail for detail, page for page, word for word, drawing for drawing, into this new notebook.

"You...You can't help me. You can't go where I have to go. You need to be here." She said vaguely. "But I can't stay here, and you can't go. I always have to make these damnable choices, don't I?"

Lana stood back, not wanting to give the impression she was trying to catch a glimpse, but she kept her eye on Drevala, a worried look on her face.

"Drevala please. You're worrying me. Can't you tell me something? Anything? At least tell me everything is alright."

She was practically begging now. Something was very wrong with Drevala, and it disturbed her that she had not seen it earlier, and was seemingly powerless to do anything about it now.

Drevala rushed through her writing in silence for a few seconds, her fingers working quite quickly despite her earlier lulled movements. She seemed to have an incredibly desperate need to get what was on her mind down onto the paper, and wasn't about to stop and do anything until she had accomplished this goal.

Once the final stroke of the quill had scratched across the parchment, she slammed both books shut and collapsed into the chair, seemingly exhausted beyond comprehension. She lifted her hands to her face as her eyes fluttered shut and placed her fingers at her temples, massaging her head briefly as the glow of magic danced between her fingers.

"C..Can't sleep yet. Not yet."

Then her eyes opened and she gazed at Lana.

"I'll tell you what...what I think you need to know. I'm going...on a trip. I don't know when I'll be back."

Her hands seemed to naturally gravitate towards and rest on the cover of her new journal, where she danced a simple tune across the surface with her fingertips.

"I'd ask you to come with me if it weren't dangerous, and if it wouldn't be immensely time consuming. I can't say more. I can't tell you where I'm going, because you might follow me or send people after me. I can't tell you how long I'll be gone because even I don't know. But I can tell you this..."

She sighed and shut her eyes momentarily.

"Every time I sleep I see that fucking battle. Every time I go to sleep I scream at myself to make a million different decisions. But I can't change the past. Especially not with dreams and hatred. I chose you over my own flesh and blood Lana- I chose to keep you and your dreams of the collective safe rather than save my own sister."

She lifts her hands and rubs them into her eyes.

"I could have burned that entire field to ash and ended all wars for a life time. I could have ended everything there and then- no escape for Mandarass, no dangers from De Reimer, no heart break for my kin, no fucking political paranoia... But mages...Oh Lana, I would've doomed all the mages..."

She seemed to lament herself and her situation immensely.

"I couldn't do that to you- not after you confided and trusted in me like that! I... I keep telling myself that Beatrice would rather have died, that dying in battle is what she lived for... but that's a lie, a lie I keep repeating to try and still my beating heart, to build a dam for these horrid tears I keep shedding. I know Beatrice wanted to survive and face bigger and bolder challenges, that she wanted to keep getting stronger so she could do what she loved to do- fight. And I chose to let her die."

She had a sudden violent surge of emotion and she slammed both hands into lana's desk rather aggressively.

"I will not choose again." She hissed. "I will not choose between the people I love. I will not choose who lives and who dies. I will not sacrifice anyone else. I almost lost Naomi, I lost Beatrice, I won't lose you. I won't lose Eli. I won't lose anyone else.”

Her anger seemed to have given way to the sadness once more, and she clutches at her chest as if in pain.

"Lana... I need more power- more knowledge. I can protect everyone if i but had more power. Why am I so weak, Lana, that I can't even use magic to protect the people I love? You were able to stop the slaughter of those you wished to protect in the riots, but I couldn't even keep my own sister alive. You saved dozens. I couldn't save one."

Lana retrieved her plate and finished her dinner, sitting on her bed in patient silence as Drevala furiously transcribed her notes. The worry was still there, but she knew that pressing the issue was futile.

When Drevala finally finished and spoke, Lana could only listen in stunned silence. Never had she seen Drevala so agitated. When it finally ended, Lana was shocked speechless. For a long moment there was silence between them while she gathered her thoughts and battled the emotions that came unbidden.

"Drevala I-" She paused as her voice cracked with emotion. Upon her breast, there was the slightest flicker of light in the crimson gem.

"I don't know what it's like to be in a battle... And I hope I never do. War is... disgusting. A mundane concept, and the most egregious of wasteful sins they have ever come up with!"

She leapt to her feet, fists clenched. There was a tone of iron in her voice, and a vibrant crimson glow from the gem. "When I am queen, you will never have to choose between people again. No one will have to choose again. There will be no more war. No more Mundane squabbling. Formaroth will see true peace at last!"

Caught up in the moment, Drevala's suggestion that power would solve everything seemed so... simple. So logical.

"You are right. They have forgotten their place. With enough power, we can make them remember. We can stop the wars. Stop the killing. Protect everyone. Even them."

Drevala smiled wanly. She leaned over and rested her head on the desk as Lana rambled on in her own way. It was reassuring to part of her, and to another it was sad to see someone so important to her so worked up. She shut her eyes for but a moment, which to her felt like an eternity, before she sat up once more.

"Lana, can I...No, nevermind that. That'd be dumb to bring up now of all times."

She sighed to herself and leaned back in the chair, tilting her head back so far as to gaze at Lana upside-down. She lifted her new journal up and held it up in front of her so she could gaze at it properly, leaving it upside down to Lana.

"Lana, have you ever been afraid of your own research?"

Lana was caught off guard by that question, and sat back down again, her fire waning already as the gem dimmed.

"I... No. No I have never been afraid of my research. Why should we be afraid to broaden the horizons of human magic?" Absently, her hand went to the gem on her necklace.

"The things we have discovered in the past few years... Drevala, not even the Elves of distant Beilokias can claim to have learned what we have. It is for the cowering heretic mundanes to fear magic. It is for us, to control it in all its splendor. Don't be afraid, you are one of our best." Lana's voice had taken on a more reassuring, comforting tone now. Though she had long since become lost in a tangle of thought, focused only on the moment, and her desire to reassure her friend.

Drevala smiled a bit. A somewhat more earnest smile. She righted her posture and stood up, shakily. She walked towards Lana and giggled weakly, somewhat returned to stability by Lana's reassurance.

"If you were me, you'd be scared. But you're you, and you're brave, and I'm not. At least, I'm not that brave these days."

She stood before Lana and gazed at one of her own hands as if the organ confused her.

"I really don't belong in this body. It feels sluggish, slow, weighed down by so many thoughts. I've been slipping away from it more and more."

She wriggled her fingers.

"I'd show you what has me so afraid, but... I don't know. Dragons are one thing, but what I've been working on now is...something beyond that."

"You will always come back though?" Lana said, half a statement and half a question.

She gently took Drevala's raised hand in her own. "We need you. Eli and I."

"You are braver than you think. I don't know if I could throw myself between danger and those that I wished to protect like you do." As she continued, there was a note of pleading in her voice. "But please make sure we don't lose you to this... whatever it is you are doing. I've lost so much already. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you as well."

Drevala couldn't help but smirk down at Lana. She leaned down until their faces were quiet close, an almost predatory look in her eyes as her smirk grew into a grin, her hand squeezing Lana's gently.

"Well, when you ask like that I can't very well say 'no', can I?" she said in a sweet tone, shutting her eyes and laughing softly. "Of course I'll come back Lana. I can't die after hearing your feelings like that- that'd just be inconsiderate of me."

Drevala opened her eyes again but didn't seem to intend to back out of the closeness at all. She didn't seem to comprehend personal space at the best of times, and right now was no different. She idly blew upwards, correcting a bit of misplaced and wild hair that had fallen over her face, then stared at Lana.

"...I'd very much like to share my damnation with you at the very least. I want to be selfish just this once."

She seemed to hesitate at something after saying those cryptic words, doubt flickering through her features. Fear, almost.

Lana was slightly unsure what to make of the closeness, nor the sweet tone of Drevala's voice. She let it happen all the same, even smiling at her friends casual approach to her appearance.

"After all you've been through..." Lana began sympathetically. "You have a right to be selfish on occasion. Be Selfish. I don't mind" She smiled then, to try and lighten the mood a little and reassure Drevala as her features were marred with doubt.

Drevala shut her eyes for but a second at those words, her hands idly tossing her journal to the side, before her eyes snapped open and she grabbed Lanaya's face, cupping her cheeks in the palms of Drevala's rough hands, and pulled the other woman's face towards hers and planted a deep kiss on her friend. A rough kiss, animalistic and needy. And she didn't seem intent on backing off.

Lana's eyes went wide with shock and surprise as she was drawn into a kiss. Her unthinking reaction was to meekly try to pull away, but to no avail. She suddenly became acutely aware of just how strong Drevala was.

Her stunned mind went blank, and for once she had no idea what to do. She had never thought of Drevala this way, but she couldn't bear the thought of letting her down after she had inadvertently encouraged this. It wasn't unpleasant, but nor did the thought of laying with another woman inspire any enthusiasm in her.

She tried desperately to relax into it as her arms hung limp by her side. This was not what she expected.

Drevala's hands strokes over Lana's face slowly, one sliding into the woman's hair and gripping it gently- so gently despite her initial roughness. Her other slid down from Lana's cheek and more softly gripped Lana's chin between a thumb and forefinger.

The initial animalism tamed by the tangible feeling of Drevala's emotion, the rough kiss becoming a soft and slow one. One that dragged on and on and on...

until Drevala broke it. She pulled away slowly, grabbed up her journal, and turned away from Lana with her eyes closed.

"...Sorry."

She mumbled, as she began to walk away.

Lana desperately wanted to enjoy the experience, to let it show in her body language so as not to hurt her friend. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't do it. She refused to try to resist, nor could she even if she wanted to.

An acute feeling of vulnerability set in as the moments ticked by.

When it was over, she staggered backwards ever so slightly, but Drevala was already turning away.

"I..." She began, but was struck speechless. What could she say now? Her body language had spoken louder than her words ever could.

Drevala didn't stop. She just walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out.

"I just have to ruin everything, don't I?" She said, mostly to herself, anger and bitterness in her voice.

Then she shut the door- quite aggressively- to Lana's room, and began to sprint away down the halls of the manor.

Lana sat heavily back down on the bed, distraught with the chaotic emotions roiling in her mind.

"Drevala... No..." She managed, barely above a whisper, as the door slammed shut. All she could do was listen to the ever more distant footsteps as Drevala fled her house, and quite possibly her life.

When the sound had stopped, she lay back where she was, tears forming in her eyes.

---

General Hycis felt his chest swell with pride as he stared over the field of victory. The Keraaman army had been smashed, utterly broken and torn to pieces. The survivors, what few of them there were, seemed in shock as elves roughly roped their hands behind their backs and dragged them to the rapidly growing slave lines. Hycis stood to make a fine profit from this campaign. All that needed doing now was to fall upon the Drai rear and he would complete this campaign as a hero.

His hand absentmindedly rubbed the warm leather of his saddle while the other twirled a small silver ring about his finger, a gift from his wife. They had parted nearly six months before on the doorstep of their estate, her in tears, him telling her to be brave. Four of their five sons had ridden with him and now served on his personal staff. Each of them would gain glory in this campaign and, with luck, he would be able to secure them a handsome wedding match. Maybe General Neldor would even allow one of his daughters to marry Hycis's eldest son. Now that would be a match! A step closer to an Imperial title, perhaps even a Governorship. Possibilities flooded through his mind and he wished his wife were here to discuss it all with. She was much better at the game of politics than he was.

He was so lost in this dream of victory and reward that he failed to hear the first of the shouts and screams from the west. They began as a murmur, growing slowly in volume. His staff, riding alongside him, began to turn one by one to look into the battlefield haze. It was certainly not the sound of a victorious army. No, the screams were of folk dying. One of his aide de camps roughly shook him, snapping him out of his reverie. The shouts were intermixed with the sound of steel on steel and his head snapped around - squinting as he peered westward.

A swirling dust cloud still covered much of the battlefield and Hycis could make out nothing other than dark shapes moving quickly across the battlefield. A huge cheer went up and he thought he saw something large fall in the distance. What the devil was going on? The screaming was growing in savage intensity and he felt a chill run through his body. The leather of his saddle, so warm a moment ago, suddenly seemed rigid and tough beneath his legs. His heart began to pound with a familiar sense of fear.

A rider burst out of the dust cloud, flogging his Meehan toward Hycis, the creatures flanks running with blood as the spurs cut deeply into the hide. Hycis frowned. He did not approve of needlessly injuring a mount, especially after the battle was over. Why that seemed important in the face of all the unknowns he faced, he did not know. But that was battle. The strangest thoughts would pop into an elfs head in the face of death.

“My lord General!” The elf skidded to a stop, his exhausted mount almost collapsing, one big horn banging off the ground with a loud crack. “My lord general,” The elf gasped again. “The Iba… They’re attacking!”

“Attacking who?” Hycis was confused. The Iba, for all their supply problems and late arrival to the battle, had at least finally shown up, even if it had been to late to take part in the fighting. The mere appearance of their army had caused the fight to go out of the Keraamen. Maybe they had hidden more troops in the low ground? Was it possible the Drai had marched to support their ally.

“Us!” The soldier almost screamed the word at his general. That brought instant silence to the calmouring staff members who had been eagerly hurrying after their general with in the hopes of watching the Iba in action. The Imperium was well aware who the powerhouse in Seikatsu was and the fighting quality of the Samurai were legendary.

“But… Shit!” Hycis kicked his mount forward, the trail of aide-de-camps hurrying after him as he rode toward the dust. “What else?” He demanded of the exhausted soldier who hurried in his wake.

“They killed the giant and slaughtered our remaining Avem as they were resting. I rode to warn you before I saw anymore.”

Hycis looked about him frantically. His army was scattered across several acres of battlefield, plundering the dead and making slaves of the living. They would be slaughtered if they did not regroup and immediately “Sound the muster, hurry!”

A bugler turned away from the column and began to blow on the black horn he carried at his belt. All across the battlefield elven soldiers dropped what they were doing and hurried toward their respective units, still marked by banners that drooped in the suddenly windless air. There was little urgency to their movements. They were tired, many of them wounded. It had been a hard fight and only the actual collapse of the Keraamani lines had allowed them to carry the day. Otherwise it had been something of a slug fest, the infantry pushing against each other as arrows and spells filled the air above their heads. Another horn mimicked the cry, and then another, until the battlefield rang with the desperate notes.

As if in answer, another horn sounded, this one deeper and more ominous, and it came from the north. There was supposed to be nothing but mountains to the north. Hycis, closing swiftly on the dust cloud, pulled up short as took in the source of this new challenge. The chill in his body turned to a cold sweat.

Blocks of soldiers were moving out of mountains that his Iban scouts had told him were impassable. He didn’t need any riders or an eyeglass to make out the red armour to know that he had been betrayed. Beside him his youngest son swore quietly to himself and Hycis made brief eye contact with him. He could see his own fear mirrored in the dark eyes.

Scattered elves, still not understanding their predicament, hurried toward their one time allies and died, their screams for mercy falling on deaf ears. Hycis felt bile rise in his throat as arrows slashed into the confused elven soldiers. The Iba spared no one, not even the wounded, as they advanced onto the already blood drenched battlefield. Elves, who moments before, had thought themselves victors, now thrashed and died in the mud beneath Iban spears.

The wind, slack and unhelpful until that moment, suddenly curled across the battlefield and with it the crackling energy of magic. Hycis swore. Someone had been holding back the breeze to cloak whatever was happening beyond the dust cloud but now they wanted him to know, and to fear.

What met his eyes paralyzed him. The Western road, supposedly his escape to a friendly nation, was covered in enemy troops. Like a great column of ants the enemy marched against his rear. His best troops, held back until the end, rested there. Most of them, their clothing soaked with sweat, hair plastered to their foreheads, had stripped off their armour and began to dip their feet in a small stream. Now everywhere he looked elves were dying. In one and twos, in dozens, and in hundreds, they were being butchered like cattle by men they had thought were their allies.

“Father…” His eldest son caught his attention and motioned to the east, toward Keraam. Cavalry moved across the landscape now and there was no mistaking the helmets and battle flags of the Iban Shogunate. They rode knee to knee and gave a mighty cheer as their lances lowered and they spurred onto the field. The elven cavalry, for the most part, were dismounted and relaxing after finishing their pursuit of the Keraamani survivors. Now they were simply run over by the Iban horse. A few elves, desperate few, managed to remount and fight their way free of the surging mass of enemy cavalry. Hycis felt a small surge of joy as he spotted two of his other sons managing to ride clear. The rest died.

“He fucking played us…” Hycis said in a voice of mixed awe and hatred. Sadatake Ayeka, Shogun and friend of the elves, had utterly played him for a fool. Hycis shook his head as if trying to clear it of the vision before him. But when he opened his eyes it seemed even worse than before. An explosion somewhere nearby made the earth rattle.

“Rally the army! Rally on me! We will try to fight our way out of this trap!” Horns screamed again elves begin to spring toward their general. A sense of urgency was at last beginning to take hold as the earth shook beneath the hooves of oncoming cavalry. Prisoners, abandoned now, began to free themselves and, in some cases, savagely attack the fleeing elves. Chaos reined across the battlefield and all Hycis could do now was hope, and pray.

The carriage to Ralda was bumpy, uncomfortable and with winter fast approaching, cold. This hadn’t been Ignocious’s first expedition away from Nyhem, but it had been his first journey into Ralda and the unpaved overgrown dirt roads had made his journey most unpleasant. It didn’t help than most of the inns along the way were still repairing from the damage that house Anjervine caused. Ignocious couldn’t believe that a kingdom this close to the center of Formaroth could be this poor. By the time he reached fishgrove he was hardly surprised to see that the kingdom's capital was still mostly a burning wreck of a settlement. To make matters worse, he had to abandon his lab to other alchemists. Who knew what they were doing with his golem or what research they might of been carrying out without his consent. It made Ignocious shudder to think about it. Had it not been for uncle assuring him that no experiments would be carried out until he returned he probably wouldn’t have left. However he needed to secure a deal with this Dyril in order for his research to be a success and he couldn’t rely on others to do it for him. Besides he wanted to examine the properties and magical potential of the mandrakes before he wasted money on them. At the very least Ignocious was grateful that both Cerlina and by extension Alasdair approved of his golem’s and saw sense to continue funding his research rather than having him arrested. His carriage drew to a halt as the man who was both his driver and bodyguard opened the door. In spite of himself, Ignocious actually quite liked the man; he only spoke when needed, was good at his profession and most importantly was quiet when Ignocious needed him to be. Ignocious didn’t even know his name and he didn’t intend to ask unless he needed to.

“According to the information supplied by the crown Dyril’s farmland should be located this way” The man said as he pointed across a frozen field “I hope you don’t mind walking, it might take a while”. Ignocious wrapped a warm cloak around him as he stepped out of the carriage. The cloak itself was a woman’s cloak and Ignocious often drew many strange stares as he walked through the streets of Nyhem wearing it. However for all Ignocious cared it kept it warm and that was what mattered to him.

“Let's get this over with” He mumbled.

Gerey frowned, feeling more workers collect around him. Their eyes rose the thatched room of the hut. A small, lithe figure darted in grace unnatural to any human. Her bare feet gripped the thatch material with practiced movements. In a short time, she found the main beam and began to balance across it. Snow plopped to the ground when she knocked it loose. A few works underneath scattered away from the path, avoiding the incoming piles.

Unable to take much more, his hands cupped about his mouth and he shouted to her.

"OI, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! I TOLD YOU, WE'LL FIX THE HOLE WHEN WE GET THE LADDERS! KISEO! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!?"

The man's patience dropped off when it was obvious she couldn't hear him or wasn't listening.

His ears caught the sounds of approaching steps and glanced into Ignocious' direction. The man frowned at the furred coat, but he shrugged off saying anything. Instead his attention returned to his employer's precarious situation.

"Alil, go tell the men to get some ladders and be quick about it. I'm going to see if a few of us can catch her if she falls."

The little girl stood there, gawking at the sight.

"Alil!" Gerey's face reddened when he snapped. It caused Alil to jump and nod. The little girl shot off toward the main village faster than anyone expected from her small size.

His attention turned to other men. A cocktail of horror, awe and stun silence mixed on their faces.

"Munda, Reder, and Andes, we should pace around the building. If she falls, she'll hit the thatched roof and roll off if we're lucky. Ames and Vyncent, you two go inside. If it collapses under her weight, we don't want her landing on the mandrakes. Go, now!"

All the men scattered to follow Gerey's orders.

Meanwhile, Kiseo continued her way to the hole where the smoke poured out. She crouched down just on the left side of it, still retaining her balance on the main roof beam. Her hands began to pull out thatch from the tied bundle at her side. then placed it onto the hole, shrinking its diameter. The billowing smoke began to lower as more became trapped within the hut.

As Ignocious approached the hut there seemed to be sort of a commotion.

“Having some trouble by chance” He said with a smile as he walked up to Gerey.

As Ignocious approached the hut there seemed to be sort of a commotion.

“Having some trouble by chance” He said with a smile as he walked up to Gerey.

Gerey shot Ignocious a frown as he began to move to the building's side.

"I would say yes. Our cat employer has decided to climb the roof and fix the chute herself. Now we got to hope she doesn't get killed because of it."

His voice was rough and irritated, brushing off the man for the moment.

"Gerey, she looks like she's about to jump down!" Yelled one of the men.

Gerey blinked and shouted back, "What?!?"

Before anyone could think, they heard something heavy land into the snow. Nearby people rushed over to see the damage including Gerey. Just next to the building, Kiseo stood crouched and appeared unhurt by her leap from that height.

Gerey's face began red as he pushed past the crowd, ushering them back to work with a sharp look. He addressed while his arm extended to help her up. Subtly his eyes wandered over her form, worry and anger dancing in his eyes over her risky choice.

"Kiseo, what in the world were you thinking? You could've gotten killed!"

"I've jumped off much higher before," She explained, little confused by his concern.

"That's not the point! Did you break anything?"

"No," she lifted her foot and wiggled her toes, foot and leg to show it all worked fine.

Gerey settled down, but his face still retained its red coloring.

"Next time, wait for the ladder men. You gave everyone a heart attack," he grumbled then turned to Ignocious.

"Also, I think we have a visitor. I'll take care of the mandrakes. I'm sure a few of them have mature and need moving into the house. You deal with him."

Kiseo tilted her head, her ears twitched and her eyes drifted to Ignocious' direction. She then nodded. Her feet moved and she began to make her way toward the man dressed in furs.

She made a little bow, "Hello, my name is Kiseo and the mistress of the house has been called away. If you would like, I can take a message and send word when she has returned."

Ignocious’s attention was soon entirely focused on the strange cat woman that had just jumped from the roof of the hut. He had read about the Mao before and always thought they sounded like fascinating creatures. But he had never seen one before and due to their rare occurrence outside of the imperium, never expected to see one. He stood closer to her examining her over with his eyes doing everything he could to keep himself from poking her.

“Extraordinary” He said as he continued to stare at Kiseo while still avoiding eye contact.

Kiseo's tail flicked in a slow, cautious fashion. It whipped from side to side showing her obvious discomfort at Ignocious' gawking. Her head tilted a bit and her attention shifted behind her. There was nothing unusual to provoke such reaction. Her hands fell to her front in a normal and submissive fashion.

"Sir?" She spoke again.

"Tell me are you native to shingseng or were you raised in Beliokias"? Ignocious asked seemingly ignoring or unaware of Kiseo’s discomfort. "And your formarothian is very good? I take it you've been here for a while".

"I was born in Beliokias as for my Formarothian, I have been here for a few months now. It was difficult at first, but I... what is the word? Puursisted? Peersisted, no..."

Gerey, overhearing her struggle, replied in the background.

"Try 'I kept at it'. It's easier than that silly word you're trying to pronounce."

She turned to his direction briefly, "Thank you Gerey."

"Aye, just add a tip to my pay."

Kiseo nodded. Her expression hinted at her not following through on the suggestion however. She returned to address Ignocious.

"Sir, I still need to know why you've arrived here."

"Right yes of course, as fascinating as you are I have arrived here to discuss business with you" Ignocious said, though he was no longer examining Kiseo he was still undeniably intrigued by her "I wish to examine your mandrake crop and if it meets the standards I am looking for, buy any fully developed mandrakes you have".

"Some fully grown mandrakes are being held back for future crops, but we have a few ready early. I am afraid to say our supporters have first selection, but what remains are open to sell to other parties."

Kiseo explained, then added, "I have to ask this, so please excuse any rudeness. How much are you aware of the mandrake's uses?"

“I think you’ll find I work directly for your supporters” Ignocious said as he produced a scroll from his cloak with the royal seal upon it and handed it to Kiseo “I have never used them personally but I have read about their nature and uses extensively before coming here. I am surprised to hear that some are already fully grown” Ignocious said with a cocked eyebrow “From what I have read it takes several years for mandrakes to fully develop”?

"It does, but oddly... we've had few mature rather quickly. Their growth cycle appears to be shorter here than in Beliokias. By a notable degree. They are finishing their cycle in the hut as we speak." Kiseo admitted as she took the scroll.

She unfurled and began to read it, having learned the language basics on their route here a while back. Her eyes skimmed the orders and finally confirmation who he was working for.

"Not to offend, but I'm surprised you have been able to study how to produce magical items. Finding materials to study on the subject is very rare outside Beliokias. One wrong application could lead to waste or worse, a nasty magical effect."

Kiseo gestured for the man to follow her inside the hut. Heat already began to rise in humidity, the fire's smoke hazing around the scenery and making it difficult to breath.

"Apologies for the condition, but it is important to have a humid climate."

“No matter, I spent much of my childhood in a similar environment” Ignocious replied, glumly reflecting on the thick smoke that infested the brothel he grew up in. Every morning, afternoon and evening the courtesans would light the incense sticks that would cause the newer patrons to cough when they first entered the building.

“You would be correct in your assessment, the only place in Formaroth that has magical materials readily available is the circle and buying it off them comes at an extortionate price. Personally I always had to get my items imported illegally from Akki. As you would imagine the war made it increasingly difficult to get supplies from there and now that house Blackwell has taken over it is nigh impossible” Ignocious continued as he walked over to one of the grown Mandrakes, lifting the blanket so he could examine it. “You can imagine my excitement when I heard that Mandrakes, a crop that even the circle had a limited supply of, were being produced en masse here”.

"Dyril was fortunate enough to convince her family to allow a small seed shipment. It was better to ship than actual mandrakes. The latter would've rotted along the way and there's no known way to preserve the actual plant." Kiseo explained, her eyes keenly eyeing the man as he examined the plants.

The sprouts had been covered with blankets, allowing them to germinate faster. Any larger ones had long, wispy leaves that looked like a cluster of wild onions. However, some purple colored edges giving a clear identification mark. When Ignocious dug under the dirt, a fat, pale white root with a disfigured 'face' on either side appeared. Hence the name mandrake.

It was of a decent size and healthy, though a little withered due to the rapid growth.

“Dyril also felt producing the magical items here would save on shipping costs and strengthen the trade possibilities with Formaroth. Both very serious challenges to her plans.”

“I suppose the second part of your plan has fallen apart a bit what with the Imperium’s invasion” Ignocious said as he continued to examine the plant “Tell me how much oil can a single mandrake plant produce? How much magical power can mandrake oil contain”?

"Yes. Originally we only heard a few rumors, but even rumors have some truth. At this point, we’re working to adapt." Kiseo admitted, her tail curled closer to her leg.

"I'm afraid I'm not able to fully answer that. Dyril is the one with that knowledge as it depends on the process, the age, and the health of the mandrake itself. I am better at .orggrowing them."

Her head tilted up for a moment in thought.

"From what I can recall, Dyril usually got a small pitcher worth out of a single small mandrake. She's still aiming to improve the process for better quality and greater quantity. As for how long it lasts.. it usually depends on the use. More magic required and more frequent uses tends to shorten the magical item’s lifespan drastically."

"I see" Ignocious said as he re-covered the mandrake. "In which case I will take a batch of thirty mandrakes. That should be enough for my initial experiments. I'll let my quiet friend out there know and he will handle the payment and loading of the supplies. For now I have a request of you" Ignocious said as he turned to face Kiseo’s, a grin upon his face.

Kiseo visibly tensed up at his last words. Last individual to ask a 'request' of her was Jain Surya, the very man that wanted to use her. Thankfully Klaus had chased him and he had never been heard from since. Not letting her past experience show through, Kiseo straightened her posture up.

"Right now, we have about twenty-five matured. The other five might be ready by the end of the day. It's hard to tell."

As Kiseo spoke, another two pots were brought in.

"Correction, twenty-eight. As for your favor... I'm hesitate to ask. Last 'request' a time ago left me to be more cautious with my kindness. So I can not promise to agree to it, depending on what it is." Kiseo tried to say in her most polite voice.

“Please don’t insult me” Ignocious said with a hand wave “I merely wished to ask more about your species. This is my first time meeting a Máoróngrōng and I could hardly call myself a learned man if I passed up this once in a lifetime opportunity to learn more about your culture”.

Kiseo relaxed instantly. It flooded her body as she slacked in her posture and nodded.

"I was raised on a mandrake farm from birth. To be honest, I have never been to our country or even the capital. So there are some cultural differences between free and owned Máoróngrōng. I do recall stories from others who also kindly shared them."

Kiseo began to walk toward the door, her hand rested on the handle. She turned back to him.

"We can have that talk first then we will discuss how to transport the mandrake. If they aren't kept humid, they might die within the day."

“Let us walk and talk then, I would prefer to discuss this outside rather than slowly suffocate from smoke in here” Ignocious replied as the smoke of the hut started to bring back unpleasant memories of his past.

Kiseo nodded and opened the door. She slipped out to hold it open for Ignocious, allowing him to follow her. When he exited, she shut it tightly from the outside. Escaping humidity was an issue if she wasn’t careful.

“We hope to have a proper building designed for their growth, but for now we need to make due with what we have.” Kiseo explained before her attention returned to her guest.

“So, what specific topic is most interesting to you? It would be a good place to start.”

Ignocious gestured to his bodyguard who promptly made his way over to him “What innate abilities do your kind possess, from what I can see you already climb a lot better than we humans can” Ignocious said as he pointed towards the roof.

“Yes, it helps to have a tail and claws to prevent my feet from mistepping.” Kiseo commented as she lifted her hand, tightening the tendons in her fingers. Small, sturdy claws popped out to reveal themselves along the fingers and thumb tip.

They began to walk from the building into the woods. Kiseo casually glanced at the scene, the gnarled trees covered in white and dark patches. She continued the conversation as she seemed relaxed with the growing distance from her responsibilities. “The tail also helps with balance when I’m running fast. My eyes are able to see in almost complete darkness, but only for a short distance.”

"So your kind can see in the dark" Ignocious replied, genuinely intrigued "the books I read seemed conflicted on the matter. Does that mean your naturally nocturnal too"?

"We function best in the darkness, but our activity is based on our duties. I'm more active in the day time, but I can easily shift to night time given a day of sleep. It was how I was raised."

"I imagine that is one of the many reasons the elves value your people as labourers" Ignocious said as out of the corner of his eye he glanced movement in the trees, though he quickly dismissed it as being nothing more than an animal and turned his attention back to Kiseo "though from what I gather not all of your kind have the misfortune of being slaves. Your homeland of Shingseng is still ruled by a Mao monarch, yes"?

"I am sad to say, slaves have little connection or knowledge to their origins. Especially those born into it. So, I wouldn't know for sure. Mother told me once that the ruling monarch was more of a front than truth. How true that is, I do not know." Kiseo admitted as she continued to lead the way, heading deeper into the woods. Her ears flicked about and noted the sounds of hooves trampling snow nearby. She wondered how long it might be before they scared it off.

"I see. My apologies, there is so much information on the imperium to read about that I find myself more interested in its obscure colonies. However all of those books were either written by travellers or elves of the highest social caste. It would be interesting to hear what someone on the other side of the social structure thinks of the imperium"?

"I was lucky compared to my fell-"

A sound of wind was all her ears caught before something hard hit her in the side. Shock flooded her expression as her eyes trailed down. The end of an arrow stuck out in her fur and clothes, the other end buried into her stomach side. From the trendline, a man and boy rushed out. They shared the same horrified look. Kiseo felt her legs start to weaken then give from underneath her.

Ignocious jumped back in fear as he started to call out to his bodyguard

“Hey! Bodyguard! Driver! Come help me! '' He cried now regretting he never asked the man for his name. Though it didn’t matter, they were far too far away for him to hear Ignocious.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” The boy began to pled, but his father raised his hand. He fell into an uncomfortable silence and stood beside the tree. Meanwhile, his father passed over his own bow then moved toward the pair.

Kiseo’s ears pushed against her head as she lowered herself into the snow. She laid on the side opposite of her wound while she fought through the shock. Drips of her blood reddened the white snow and pain flared across her side, the muscle torn from the movement. Her trembling paws wrapped about the wooden shaft with the intention of pulling it out.

“STOP”! Ignocious shouted as he hurried to Kiseo’s side “If you remove the arrow like that you will just bleed out. Let me see what I can do” He said as he started to examine the wound “I may not be a surgeon, but like all alchemists I have had training in tending to wounds”.

Kiseo nodded, jumping out of her fur from his shout earlier.

“I don’t… think it’s too deep.” She leaned back onto the ground, exposing her side to him.

As Ignocious looked at Kiseo’s stomach he was surprised to see that she was right. While the arrow had penetrated it had only just made its way below the surface. Something that should have been impossible, a clean shot like that from such a short distance would have been fatal. “Extraordinary” Ignocious said trying to hide his excitement “I was unaware that mao skin was so thick”.

Kiseo chuckled, “We don’t....”

He eyes glanced away. A bit of shame was obvious in them and she tried to hide it. Her tail couldn’t as it wrapped about her leg.

Now Ignocious was even more curious than ever, though he had more pressing things to attend to than press Kiseo for a clearer answer, at least for now. The wound still needed dressing and patching up and the arrow to be removed. “It would be better if we could do this out of the cold and somewhere where I can get the supplies I need, tell me if we carried you would you be able to make it to fishgrove”?

"I just need someone to lean on and we should be able to make it back to the cabin. I wish I had some herbs, but we arrived too late in the season." Kiseo spoke and slowly tried to rise upright, her paw covered the wound to starch the bleeding.

The man whose son shot earlier drew closer, finally getting a good glimpse of Kiseo. His eyes hardened and his figure turned around. Whatever help had been offered was given no more.

"You should be careful when walking in the woods with that thing…"

Ignocious was annoyed by the sheer apathy of the man, who after being partly responsible for Kiseo’s injury merely walked away, though he was not surprised.

“Still better company than you it seems” He said with a smirk, as the man continued to walk Ignocious’s mood changed “Don’t you walk away from me peasant, don’t you know who I am” Ignocious said speaking in the same way he so often heard the nobles of Nyhem address those below them.

Kiseo’s ears lowered a bit when she heard Ignocious’ aggression. She had never seen someone bluntly defend her, especially against one of his fellow race. If it wasn’t the pain throbbing in her side, she would’ve been in shock.

“It’s all right. This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. People fear what they don’t understand.”

“I do not care, this is his fault and he will help remedy it. That is unless he wants to see his son’s head mounted on a spike in Nyhem as a attempted murder” Ignocious said as he produced the royal seal from his coat. While he was certain the peasant wouldn’t recognise it, he would at the very least understand that Ignocious was someone of great importance. “And before you decide to rough me up my bodyguards will make certain that any harm that comes to me will be done to you and your son tenfold. Now stop wasting my time and carry her to fishgrove” Ignocious said with a smirk upon his face.

The man had stopped in his tracks. His eyes glared at Ignocious debating on something in his mind. Finally, he gave a submissive sigh. He turned about and his time reaching Kiseo. He stopped beside her as he lowered himself to one knee then scooped the feline-like woman up. He was not gentle about it causing her to fight the surge of pain swelling inside of her.

With the balled up Kiseo in his arms, he turned to his son. The boy seemed to shrink from his father’s eyes as he spoke. “Andrian, go inform the healer he has a patient.”

Not waiting for any comments from Ignocious, he began to move off.

Nyhem, a day after the training session beneath the ruined tower.
The grey clouds and snow mixed rain was effective in making everything slightly damp. Claus had made sure to oil his armour fully before setting out but that didn't stop the water from somehow reaching him inside the suit anyway.
He wore a woolen cloak to protect himself from the weather, had he not he would be shivering right now but with it he was just damp and annoyed.
The streets were a dull grey tone, few were out and those who were wore similar cloaks as Claus, hiding their frames just showing where they were going.
Claus himself wasn't sure where this was going to lead, but he had gotten a funny feeling after Katrina had been to her meeting with the emperor.
The emperor himself had written a message detailing that Katrina would be kept safe, away from field battles and other dangers.
Why did Alasdair care about Katrina's safety? Wasn't she just some blacksmiths daughter?
Claus didn't appreciate secrecy, sneaking around and performing acts in the dark all cloak and dagger, he didn't swing that way at all.
But this was about Katrina, someone who had turned out to be invaluable to the fist and someone he realized he actually cared about. Not many of those around.
Deciding to solve this mystery, he had ordered his men to ask around a bit and they had figured out that Katrina had lived with her uncle Roland.
She had been adopted by him following mysterious circumstances. They were unclear and riddled with fantastical rumors, some frankly unbelievable.
He moved past the renowned 'The pointed needle' and saw 'black iron smithy' across the street of the Bazaar, the place he had ordered his new suit of armour.
But he wasn't going there, he turned and went past the bazaar and into a smaller side street, approaching a smaller smithy. 'The Brass hammer.'
Katrina had told him this was a good place, but not where he wanted to go when he ordered the mace for Alasdairs coronation, when he thought about it she had seemed rushed about the place and he couldn't put his finger on it then.
Now it seemed it was the place where her uncle lived, perhaps he wasn't a deciding factor in Katrina joining up with the Steel Fist, perhaps she had even run away. Little rascal she was he thought.
It was just a few houses left, he wasn't unprepared and flicked his head signalling his two corpsmen who were nearby to await further orders.
He saw their cloak covered forms take cover beneath some roofs, trying to escape the rain.
With an initial stride in his step he aimed for the little shoppe and crossed an alleyway when his blood turned ice and his resolve shattered as he spotted something to his left at the corner of his eye.

Wearing a worn black cape, with tattered auburn hair and a rusted cuirass of the steel fist, the helmet concealing her face. A rotting pavise on her back. What made the warrior the most recognizeable was the battle-worn corseque bound with ragged cloth bands along its shaft, drenched in caked blood and fluttering in the wind.
She stared at Claus, that dark stygian void that should have been her eyes stared right into the core of his being and the only thing he could feel was horror and guilt.
His legs wanted to give way, but they didn't, he wanted to move but he was petrified.
With a slow, purposeful inevitability she lowered the corseque and pointed it at him.
-"You abandoned me... everyone..." Her voice stern and with a hint of anger.

Piercing through the panic his guilt took over, he quickly turned towards the alleyway but it was empty, a faint rolling thunder in the distance as he stared into an empty street curving out of sight.
He panted heavily for a moment, then he walked to the smithy.
Hallucinating during the day, he needed a drink. Something strong.
His men had noticed his distress and were looking at him curiously, he did a handwave ordering them to stand down, with a shrug they went back to covering from the rain, as best they could.

A small bell rang as he entered the smithy, it was warm and smelled of burning coals inside.
In the backroom a man could be heard and the unmistakable sound of rummaging through metal objects, grunting and a few small curses could be heard before the man began to move.
As he waited, Claus observed the things for sale.
It was mostly iron fittings, door handles, candle holders and loads of nails. A few blades were standing in a stand which had a rudimentary but sturdy lock so no one could steal them without at least making some sounds while doing it.
His eyes fell upon a wicked falchion, heavy and with a hint of rust, not a pretty blade at all, but for some reason it reminded him of himself.

The blacksmith rubbed his hands with a rag as he entered the room, greying hair and a slow gait betrayed his slight aging, but he was no older than fifty.
He was reciting a greeting spiel when he looked up and saw Claus and froze, just uttering.
-"You!...." A concoction of emotions were brewing inside the man before Claus, he on the other hand spoke.
-"Are you Roland, Katrina's uncle?"
-"Where is she?! You have some nerve coming here, i should....!" The smith had lost his temper and quickly walked up to Claus spitting accusations, but had stopped in his tracks when he noticed Claus empty ice cold stare combined with the fact he hadn't even moved when a muscly smith had approached him in anger.
-"You should be anwering my question, that's what you should. I'm imperial advisor of war after all." Claus made a quick tootless smile lacking emotion and looking completely fake.
-"Yes... of course ser.... i am Roland Nikos... Katrina's uncle." Claus eyed him up and down before speaking.
-"We should talk, got a place to sit?" Claus question was met with a nod and the smith showed the way to a hidden staircase.

The two men sat down over a heavy table roughened by age and Roland put down a bottle of decent cider and two cups, Claus opened it and pured two servings.
Roland sat down and had a tired guilty expression.
-"I'm sorry for my first response, it's just that i'm angry for Katrina and it felt like your fault." He wasn't looking at Claus during his apology and Claus sipped some cider before offering the other cup.
-"Look up gramps, just shows you care for the lass." Roland looked up and met eyes with a smirking Claus offering him cider, this lightened his heart and he took the offered cup and sipped as well.
-"So, how is she doing? I heard she's well off, some sort of officer or something." He was curious but spoke with sort of lost hope, almost sad.
-"She's lieutenant Katrina Nikos, head logistician of the Steel fist." Claus was trying to be comforting with his words. It worked to some extent as the man looked down and let out a relieved smile.
-"Young Katrina is getting somewhere after all. I feared she would end up on the streets when she ran off."
-"Ran off? You weren't taking care of her?" Claus voice had a hint of spite in them, he took a gulp of cider.
-"No no, don't get me wrong, i did my best, told her all i could think of. Did my best to take care of her. But she's always so stubborn... from her mother." Roland hurriedly answered to clear his name, to this Claus chuckled and said.
-"Oh that sounds like Katrina. No doubt about it. Please carry on."
-"Well she wanted to travel, do all these things, like going on a ship, see dragons and unicorns, meet a handsome prince and become something... all i wanted her to be was a safe blacksmith.... perhaps i was a bit overprotective..." Roland sighed as he contemplated his choices in life, Claus spoke up in response.
-"Ey, sounds like you did your best to raise her. Sounds better than my own father even... nevermind. So she felt trapped, that's what you are saying?"
Roland rotated his cup and looked into it before answering.
-"Yeah, when you put it like that i did trap her a bit. But my father had just died when her mother died, i didn't want to loose her too."
Claus nodded and looked to the side, he added a response.
-"Sounds like she was close, rough stuff." Roland was slightly annoyed at his expression, but realized that the man in front of him didn't talk ill of her but this was how he always expressed himself. Blunt and earnest.
He saw a certain charm to it, but was still annoyed with him, especially since he was already on his second cup.
-"Is it that good?" He pointed at Claus cup with a hint of sceptiscism to it, Claus understood the hint and looked at his cup which was almost empty and counted in his head which one it was.
-"You're right, it's not 'that' good." He gulped down the last of the cup and made a point of putting it out of reach. He asked.
-"So, i'm not one for speaking around subjects. I think you know why and now i ask. Why would the emperor ask me to keep Katrina away from fighting and keep her safe?" He looked Roland deadpan in the eyes, Roland was slightly taken aback by this and answered.
-"That's strange, but perhaps he likes her." Roland wasn't looking at Claus and Claus didn't believe him a single bit.
-"Yeah, the emperor meets her once and suddenly he feels responsible for her and want to keep her safe because he 'likes' her. Makes perfect sense." At likes Claus even made quotation marks and was letting know how ridiculous this sounded to him.
Roland had hoped Katrina and the emperor would have met several times and his lie would make some sense, but right now he was cornered.
He was raising his voice a bit and almost shouted.
-"I don't know, perhaps he'd like to bed her! What would i know!?" He met Claus gaze which didn't budge for a second, he wasn't believing any of this, he knew this smith knew something.
-"Cut the crap gramps. You know something and you are going to tell me!" With a surge of anger, Roland stood up and inhaled furiously, resting his hands on the table.
He then realized in front of him sat the imperial advisor of war, the legendary captain of the Steel Fist and it showed that he had fought most of his life.
Exhaling deeply through his nose Roland let his anger go and sat down.
-"Damn you, you oaf... there is no escaping it with you. Alright i'll tell you!" He took a moment to gather his wits, while Claus settled in more comfortably and took his hand from his dagger.
-"Her mother you see, Anna, was a handmaiden of Ruth... queen Ruth. And her father was Heylot Remonet..." Roland let the weight of this sink in, Claus was puzzling together the situation as best he could. After a pause he responded.
-"So... Katrina is a bastard of the mad king... that's..." Claus was surprised and confused, but then realized the weight of this as he said it out loud.
-"Yes, she's the bastard child of king Heylot." Roland confirmed Claus conclusion and kept on.
-"So that's why she's important, why she's being protected. I suppose the Snake is choosing his next move between marrying her or disposing of her. Ptwaa!" Roland spat at the end of his sentence, showing his disgust at the whole ordeal.

This did change everything, sure she was a bastard but even then she had a legitimate claim to the throne, unlike so many others including the current emperor.
Claus smirked at the situation and said.
-"Well, that means i'll have to make sure she's safe then." He seemed oblivious to the importance of the situation. Roland spoke up again.
-"Oh and one more thing, Katrina knows nothing of this. Far as she knows her father was a drunk who shared a single night with her mum in a tavern."
-"Then i won't tell her for now. Since we're going to Uzgob, she would be distracted." Claus said with an earnest tone.
-"Uzgob... to war... please keep her safe ser!" Roland was worried.
-"Don't worry gramps, it's in everyones interest she remains safe and sound. Plus she will be in my baggage train keeping track of things, i have no intention of letting any enemies close to them." Claus winked and smirked before settling into a more comfortable seat with his legs crossed over a chest. The two sat in silence for a while before Claus spoke up again.
-"You know i feel like i owe you one, for barging into your home and you raising such a great logistician. I'm gonna order fifty door mechanisms for inner doors. And that falchion downstairs, i'll buy it as well." Claus was completely no-nonsense about the whole thing while Roland almost choked on his cider.
-"That's... unexpected." He calmed when the suddenness of it had passed.
-"Also, that way i can have Katrina go here and pick them up, BUT!" Claus stood up as he said this but raised his finger and his voice at the end.
-"She does have to go with me on the campaign. I know you want her back but she's coming, and if you try anything i'll send in my vanguard to get her back." He said it in a joking mood, but was dead serious.
Roland shone up since he hadn't met Katrina since she ran away from home.
-"Don't worry ser, i'll just give her a telling to she deserves."
-"I'm sure you will." Claus said with a smirk as he left the room.

---

General Hycis slumped in his saddle, his body jolting with every staggering step his mount took as they hurried southward. All around him, everything but their weapons abandoned, stumbled remnants of his once proud army. Their uniforms were dirty and torn, much of their armour was missing, and nearly all were wounded. A far cry from the mighty force that had landed a mere three weeks before on the coast of Noiba with banners flying and trumpets baying.

Hycis himself was wounded, half his face covered in a bloodied bandage that itched something fierce. An arrow had slashed down the left side, nearly taking his eye, and slicing off the bottom of his ear. A mage priest had done his best to staunch the bleeding by binding the wound and applying a healing spell, but he had refused any further help, insisting that the more gravelly wounded receive proper treatment. The bandage and charm had done much to staunch the bleeding but did nothing for the searing headache and itch that never seemed to diminish. Even now, he wanted to scratch it the itch, to pick at the forming scab, but restrained himself, it would do no good and the mage priest had warned him of possible infection.

The narrow track his army now retreated down was one of two, both little more than cart tracks that led toward the sea. He had seen the remains of several small villages and suspected that this part of Noiba had been largely abandoned during the previous war. Little more than foundations remained now, maybe a broken fountain to hint at a town square. Of the wood and paper houses so famous among the Iba, there was no sign. Only once did they come upon a stone structure, a small castle with one entire wall gaping whose gatehouse stood empty, the gateway and upper arrow slits making it look like some monstrous head half covered in green ivy.

He felt tears prick the corner of his eye as he thought about what had occurred. The Iban had stolen the march on him, arriving rested and ready when his elves were exhausted and bloodied. Only the determined and spirited rearguard action of the remaining elven cavalry had kept the Iba from completely rolling over the survivors. That rearguard was led by his eldest son. The two has clasped arms before the cavalry rode away, pledging to meet again at the main army. Both men knew it was a façade. They would be lucky if any of them returned home.

Camp followers mixed with the retreating soldiers. Blacksmiths, cooks, laundry folk, the families and his soldiers, all of them pushing south through the thick forest in hopes of reaching the sea, and so too the navy. Younglings were among the crowd, some crying, some to tired to cry, others simply lying down at the side of the roadway despite their parents pleas to continue. Those who did not move under their own power were left for the advancing Iba. Hycis was under no illusions. The Iba would not be taking prisoners.

A sudden cheer and the sound of steel echoed through the trees and the crowd surged forward, eager to escape the pursuing enemy. Screams, shouts, and cries for help seemed to come from everywhere as small parties of Iban troops slipped through the wood and ambushed the column at every opportunity. They largely left Hycis alone, his bodyguard was well armed and relatively fresh. The light troops who stalked them now chose to attack easier targets.

Hycis turned his head wearily to watch as an elven soldier, his hand severed at the wrist, struggled to tie off the stump with a belt. He made eye contact with his General and offered a solemn nod as he took the belt between his teeth to pull it tight. Hycis wanted to go to the soldier, offer him his aid, but knew it was pointless, there was nothing he could offer the soldier. The elf was going to die. He knew it, and the General knew it, it was only a matter of time.

“Samurai!” The cry came from close at hand and Hycis sat up in his saddle, dragging his blood crusted sword free as he wheeled to face the cry. A small group of the red armoured enemy crashed out of the wood on foot, their battle cry “Ibaaa!” ringing in his ears as they fell upon a unit of elven infantry.

The skirmish was short and vicious. The samurai retreated into the wood before Hycis and his bodyguard could mount a proper charge, leaving a scattering of dead elves with twice as many wounded. The enemy didn’t lose a man. It was a pattern that had repeated itself a hundred times in the past twenty four hours as the elves pushed south. They were permitted no sleep, no rest, not even the time to take a piss. If you stopped, you died. Archers stalked the column at every turn and anyone who halted made an inviting target.

“Father.” The gentle voice of his eldest surviving son. A canteen was being held out to him and he gratefully took it, swallowing down the lukewarm water without complaint. This at least they had plenty of. Seikatsu was a land of endless streams and small brooks that an elf could use to refill his canteen. A small mercy he supposed.

“Thank you.” Hycis passed the container back after splashing some on his face. An aide was dispatched to find more water further up the track. He too was exhausted but to stop was to die.

“Samurai!” The cry again and this time the enemy came to close. They burst from the trees to charge into a small knot of heavy infantry. A close quarters fight began in earnest and Hycis saw an opportunity for some small revenge.

His sword was still drawn and he raised the point even as he urged his tired mount forward. The beast tossed its head but managed to lumber into a quick trot. He felt his lips peel back from his teeth like some feral beast as he gave a formless scream and charged.

A samurai looked up just as Hycis’s mount caught him under the chin with one huge horn, tossing the human like a ragdoll into the wood. Another Iban rolled desperately away before lunging to his feet and straight into Hycis’s sword thrust. The blade smashed the faceplate of his helmet and split his upper lip all the way down his jaw bone. Hycis had a startling view of a pale face, black hair plastered to the forehead with sweat, eyes bulging wide even as the man opened his mouth to scream. He vanished beneath the hooves of the bodyguard before a sound could come out.

Hycis was through the skirmish in an instant and he pulled savagely on his reins, trying to turn his mount for another charge, but the fight was over. The small party of samurai had been slaughtered. A moment of joy in the falling darkness as his men cheered their small victory. It was something. But it was not enough. It would never be enough. For them, it was to late.

He was thirsty again and looked around for the elf sent to fetch him more water. It took him a moment to find the soldier and when he did, the small joy he felt left him. The elfs body lay half submerged in a nearby stream, a spear sticking up from his back like the mast of a ship. The generals canteen lay in the bloodied water nearby, slowly filling with the reddish liquid. He didn’t have the energy to even curse. He turned and rode away.

It did not take long for darkness to begin to close in. As the sun dropped below the horizon the air instantly began to cool. A small price to pay for the shadows that spread across the land. The Iba did not come in the darkness. No commander with any experience was going to send small units of men to wander around the forest in the dark.

The pursuit, however, did not end. All the Iba had to do was follow the trail of dead and dying elves that had simply given up. From time to time furious clashes would erupt between the elven rearguard and the Iban vanguard. It was savage close quarter fighting, illuminated by the occasional torch or spell that lit up the heaving black masses of men and elves. It was as though the bowels of hell disgorged the damned. Those who would survive that terrible flight through the woods would never cease to dream of it, waking in cold sweats during the deepest darkness.

Hycis saw little of it from his position near the head of the column. The elves had better night vision than their human enemies but a bright moon broke through the cloud to cover the landscape in a pale glow. Even so, the Iban attacks were cautious and only in great strength, as they probed forward. The darkness was no friend to anyone and more than a few soldiers were killed by their own side in the confusion.

For those elves able to move under their own power, the darkness was a blessing in disguise. They could see well enough to move with confidence along the narrow tracks and so a small distance eventually grew between the main body of the elves and that of the enemy. Those who could not walk any further were left behind. Hycis did not need to see what happened to know they would be killed when the Iban found them.

He wept in the darkness, his tears hidden from his soldiers and surviving sons by the veil of night. High General Neldor had entrusted Hycis with the best troops he could provide, and the best officers he had at hand. It had been a gamble and both elves knew it. The dice had come up against them. He ground his teeth even as he cuffed the tears from his cheeks. If he escaped, he would crush the Iba and leave none alive.

Perhaps it was that anger that sustained him through the cold of the night, wrapped only in his cloak and blood caked armour. What little food that remained was doled out among the bodyguard, Hycis insisting his soldiers eat before him. Their gratitude was pathetic to behold but he could not help but smile to himself. With such soldiers, he might have conquered the world.

The very first glimmer of pink on the horizon brought with it a new breeze tinged with the smell of salt. Hycis felt his heart surge. The sea! The exhausted refugees around him smelt it as well and their footsteps became more confident and they hurried forward. If they could make the coast, they might be able to march east to their ships. He did not think they were far. The coast in this region was one huge white sand expanse, it would not be hard to escape now.

The trees around him began to change now. They were getting shorter, more windswept, proof that the sea was not far away now. The dirt beneath his mounts hooves gradually turned from to sand and the moss of the forest to scrub grass. The cry of gulls and the thunder of waves upon the beach carried to him with the wind.

He paused, listening for any sound of pursuit. Silence, or the type of silence one could expect from thousands of shuffling feet. But there were no screams, no shouts, no clash of steel. Perhaps the Iban had turned back, or at least waited out the night. It had bought him some time. Perhaps enough to save this tiny remnant of his army.

“Make way for the General!” The shout preceded him as he rode through the throng toward the sea. The tired survivors parted willingly and he felt himself lighten with joy as the blue ocean at last replaced the endless forest.

White sand stretched out on either side of him as far as he could see and swarms of birds dove and darted above him. At first he thought that the beach was covered in small black rocks, some larger boulders beyond, and that puzzled him for he did not recall any such beach when they had sailed past here a few weeks before. Perhaps this was a deep bay he had not seen?

Then, with growing horror, he realized that the rocks on the beach were bodies and the black shapes out to sea were ships, great ships whose hulls jerked and shook beneath the waves that hammered them against the sand bars. A few broken masts rose from the water here and there, the ragged remains of sails flapping uselessly in the breeze. He recognized the shape of the hulls, the deep keels and long swept back sterns. He would never forget them.
He dropped from his mount, his thighs so chaffed her could barely walk, as he staggered down to the waters edge. A groan of despair escaped his lips. The dead who bobbed and jerked with the oncoming waves like grotesque marionettes were elves. Thousands of them, as far as he could see in every direction, the white sand covered in the lifeless shapes of the dead. It took him a moment to realize that some were humans, but they were few, so very few. He wanted to ask how. He wanted to scream, to kick his feet, to tear his hair.

An elf nearby was staring at the sky with a look of surprise on his face. A flatbow bolt stood had taken him under the chin, cutting his helmet strap in the process. The blue features were bloating already, soon he wouldn’t look much like an elf at all. Hycis, his hands in the sand, tears running down his face, finally looked up and out to see. Ships were rounding the headland, low ships driven by oars, and above them, snapping in the wind, were the red dragons of Akaiba. He had found the sea and it belonged to the enemy. He was trapped.

Life was finally starting to return to Fishgrove. The streets that were once filled with debris and ash were now cleared and the residents were even laying the old dirt paths with stone. Around half of the burnt down buildings were under the process of being repaired with materials far superior to what they were previously made out of. While the residents of Fishgrove were still bitter towards the De Reimer’s, they weren’t going to turn down the money and materials that they were supplying. While the destruction of Fishgrove still weighed heavy on the Raldian’s hearts they were determined to rebuild their kingdom’s capital to a state greater than it had ever been. However Ignocious had little time to focus on the reconstruction efforts, right now he was more interested in getting Kiseo to the inn so that he could better treat her wound. Their approach into Fishgrove drew many stares but he Ignocious didn’t care. His bodyguard, who’s name he had now learnt was Bailey, had taken over carrying Kiseo from the farmer. Ignocious thought it best, he had already put the farmer in his place and Bailey was far gentler with Kiseo than he had been.

“You holding on in their OK” Bailey said to Kiseo.

“I’ve had much worse. My mistress will not be pleased to hear about this so… could we keep this from her?” Kiseo asked in a meek voice.

She had curled into a ball within Bailey’s arms as he carried her. Her tail wrapped defensively about her and kept out from the man’s legs. She enjoyed the fact he was more gentle than the earlier man who seemed to care little for the additional damage caused by the rougher treatment.

Her eyes flicked to Ignicous and asked a question that was burning insider her conscious since the conflict between the farmer and him.

“Ignicous, you weren’t intending to prosecute the child, were you?”

Ignocious looked at Kiseo with surprise.

"After everything, that's happened and that's what you're worried about"? Though if you're curious I wasn't planning on it, far too much effort for some random farm boy. Anyway, follow me" Ignocious said as he walked towards the tavern door.

“Living as a slave, you become used to pain,” Kiseo admitted, quietly.

Inside, the tavern had been cleared. No patrons or even staff were seen at the tables when the three entered. Just one elder man. He was dressed in butcher garb with a bloody apron on his front. His eyes snapped to the three before he spoke.

“Set her over there,” his thick finger pointed to a clear set up of two tables pushed together.

His kit, consisting of one or two healing herbs and a knife, were set up on a side table. It was clear healing wasn’t his prime career, but a secondary one.

Ignocious looked on in disgust at the so-called surgeon in front of him.

"Are you really the best person they could find. This requires a surgeon, not some butcher who'll wield his knife like a cleaver."

The man pursed his lips and spoke, “Look, I’m the best you’ll get. Our healer died during the slaughter a few months back and there’s been no replacement.”

He moved toward the table, checking his tools while he continued.

“I’m the closest thing we got. If you have a better option and she,” he pointed to Kiseo, “can last, then you’re free to find someone else.”

He turned back to face Ignocious as he placed his hands on his hips to wait on the man’s answer.

Ignocious turned to face Kiseo “Your the one he’s operating on, what do you think,” he said with a shrug.

Kiseo turned her head towards the man. She wasn't a fan of the idea, but she saw no other option.

"I think I'll take the risk. Either way, I do not see another way and leaving a wound to fester is not good." She pointed out the hard facts out. Ignocious simply turned to the man and shrugged once more

“Place her down on the table Bailey”. Bailey slowly walked over to the table and lay Kiseo down as gently as he could.

The butcher examined the wound. He pulled back the simple tunic Kiseo was wearing and revealed the point where the arrow buried into the fur. Bloodstained the black and dirty yellow coat as he examined the wound.

“I’ll need your help holding her down while I take out the arrow. She got lucky, whatever she wore kept it from going too deep.” The Butcher’s words were mildly curious and confused.

“Are you sure she got a direct shot?”

He turned to his table and retrieved his knife, then gestured for Bailey to hold Kiseo down. His fingers pressed into the wound opening and fished around to find the arrowhead. It appeared to have not detached far from the shaft as he carefully pulled it out, widening the wound in the process. More blood squirted out onto the table causing the butcher to curse briefly before he pressed a fresh cloth to it. He then jerked the arrow shaft out, allowing his hand to starch the flow farther.

Meanwhile, Kiseo tried not to thrash from the pain spreading across her muscles. Her body didn’t seem to care as she jerked once or twice during the process. If it wasn’t for Bailey, she might have caused more damage. He cartelized the wound with a knife sitting in the tavern’s embers before wrapping her up.

When the operation drew to a close, the butcher suggested bed rest for the next three days. He turned to clean his tools and left them to take care of Kiseo.

After the butcher left Bailey, who had been trying his best to comfort Kiseo during the operation knelt down by Kiseo’s side.

“Can I get you anything?” he said as softly as he could, even with his gruff voice.

Kiseo cautiously sat upright. Her right arm wrapped about her throbbing side and her legs slid toward the floor. With whatever energy she could muster, she lowered herself onto her feet. As gravity pulled her down, she caught the table’s edge. Leaning heavily on it, she nodded.

“Some water, please.” She moved into a seat to stop the room from spinning.

Bailey quickly left the room with a new mission on hand. Ignocious, who until now had been silently dissecting the operation, made his way over to Kiseo.

"It seems Bailey has taken a liking to you. He shows you more affection than he ever showed me" he said with a smirk "how is your wound feeling? That brute wasn't nearly as oafish as I expected him to be"

"People often connect better when they feel equal to one another." Kiseo pointed out as cradled her side, examining the bandage to see any blood seeping through. She felt relieved at seeing the clean surface.

"Fishgrove is full of surprises, especially in its people. I have seen them struggle to stand on their feet when it was knocked out from under them. Despite their distrust, some are good of heart and worth getting to know."

She paused to inhale then continued.

"I think in about a day I will be able to breath without pain."

"Indeed, most fortunate" Ignocious said "and most unlikely" he continued, he got closer to Kiseo examining her wound "a shot like that should have killed you before we even made it to Fishgrove. Yet you're injury is nowhere near as severe"?

" I'm… lucky. I guess." Kiseo's head leaned back as her eyes didn't look directly at him. Unlike her mistress, she wasn't trained well enough to lie on the spot. She tried to hinder his examination by having her arm remain in place and block most of his view.

Ignocious looked annoyed as Kiseo evaded his question "After helping you out back there, I would have thought honesty would be the least you could give me in return" Ignocious replied.

"You don't know what happens to slaves that have shown magical potential. If you did, you can't blame me. I worry about how Dyril will react if she found out." Kiseo sighed, unsure if she could trust Ignocious to keep her secret.

"She would discard me to protect me. I made a promise to protect her, but I can't do that if I'm not beside her."

After a momentary pause Ignocious responded with a simple “I see” before continuing to look at her wound “I may not be a mage myself, but my experiments led me to research the arcane arts. I have never seen, nor read about magic manifesting itself like this, at least not without sufficient training. How long have you known you were gifted with magic”?

"I don't know for sure, but when I was seven… Dyril was gone for the day and one of her cousins stepped on my tail. I dropped the drinks I was carrying, spilling them across the expensive rug. One of the aunts felt it was proper punishment to string me on the flogging tree, letting the rawhide whip bite into my bare back." Kiseo`s arm wrapped about her other arm. She seemed to recall the day in vivid detail as she continued.

"I was left out there until night. Ting mentioned how odd it was that the wounds appeared so shallow despite how relentless the whipping slave was known to punish others. Mainly to spare himself from suffering the same fate. I knew it had to be magic that saved me…"

Ignocious shuddered upon hearing about Kiseo’s ordeal. Despite his apathetic nature, even he was disturbed by the brutal treatment that Kiseo had received. Regardless he put aside his disgust and focused on the matter at hand “So your magic hardens your skin when in danger is that it? Has it ever manifested itself in any other way”?

"Yes, it's been instinctual for four years now. It has not done anything else that I'm aware of. I've never tried anything else and I mainly hoped it would go away. Dyril can't protect me if we are forced to return. Not without being killed."

Kiseo sighed then explained more.

"Any magic potential found in slaves is required by law to be reported. The slave is then bought from the owner and resold to a priest. They do experiments which can lead from deformity to death. Those who die… are the lucky ones."

“Like I said, I might not be a mage but one thing I know for certain is that magic does not go away, it simply becomes more potent as the individual ages. It’s why most mages in Formaroth are sent to the circle so they can learn how to control their power, else they become a danger to themselves and others” Ignocious paused as he reflected on what Kiseo had said “Wait, you say this happened four years ago when you were seven? You telling me your only eleven years old”?

"Yes. I am. Why are you looking shocked? Mao age faster than humans and especially elves. I'm currently a fully mature adult. Dyril is only thirty-one years old and just hitting adulthood." Kiseo pointed out as she debated on her next step.

"I can't leave here because if I do, the crop might fail. I can't allow that. But I don't want to hurt Dyril or anyone else by mistake so… I'm in a...what's the phrase? Stuck between a rock and something else?"

She looked to the man for help.

Ignocious was shocked at Kiseo’s apparent youth but didn’t doubt it. Her explanation made sense; if elves matured at a different rate there was no reason to believe the same couldn’t be true of Mao. “I’m pretty sure no one wants to risk your crop failing, least of all me. If you are concerned about losing control your best course of action would be finding a mage who can train you. Though as you would imagine those are not exactly in high supply here in Formaroth” Ignocious pondered for a moment as he formulated an idea “I could potentially write a letter to magister Lanaya Dionisa. From what I gather she has an extreme interest in helping mages develop their talents. The fact that you are a Máoróngrōng will likely peak her interest even more”.

Kiseo felt her spine raise up a bit at the mention of the name, her tan, flicked nervously. She began to confess.

"I have met her when we first arrived. I did ask a few questions over mages and I… lied to her. I don't think it was a good one as she didn't seem to believe me, but she didn't press for answers too hard." Kiseo`s face took on a sheepish expression for a cat.

"She also warned me of the same thing you said but I was afraid. I still am."

“I see, so you had the chance to receive training from a magister and you hide the fact you were a mage from her” Ignocious said with a raised eyebrow “At the very least you are getting a second chance at such a golden opportunity. Not many can claim to be so lucky”.

"I won't say my actions were smart, but they aren't unreasonable. Dyril, next to Claus, is the only one I know here and trust. Risks often can lead to death for slaves or worse." Kiseo let the words sink in for the judging man.

"It would be better if I write a letter for her, if you would be kind enough to deliver it?"

“I should be able to see that this letter reaches its rightful place, unhindered and unopened. However what do I get out of delivering it” Ignocious said with a devious smile “Having access to your best stock seems a fair enough deal to me. Ensuring the stock is kept off the king’s ledger if you get what I mean”? Ignocious knew that after the incident he pulled with the spark powder his inventory was being closely monitored by his accountants. All of the mandrakes purchased would now be expected to be used on the golems and nothing else. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to have some mandrakes kept off the books for his own personal experiments.

Kiseo knew deep inside there had to be a price. She sighed and hopped up onto the table, considering his suggestion. After a moment of adjusting to the pain, she decided on another tactic.

"I am surprised you put profit before your safety. We both established that an untrained mage is dangerous, especially during times of stress. We might've gotten lucky that I didn't just engulf everything in fire." She waited to see his reaction and his answer might change.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said with a smile, “Your talking to a man who spent the past few months in a room of highly volatile materials that could explode upon the smallest contact with flame. All so I could pursue my true goals, I was not deterred then and I will not be deterred now”.

"I can't do that. It takes money from the farm which means less hired help and less mandrakes."

She sighed then made a counter offer.

"What if I send letters keeping you updated on the mandrake development? This would ensure you can arrive first and gain the best stock. Dyril usually sells on a first come, first served basis."

Ignocious considered for a minute, on one side he wanted to push for the chance to get free mandrakes. However he knew that if she wanted to Kiseo could probably get a letter to magister Lanaya with or without him. Through this way he could send Bailey up whenever a fresh batch was ready. He imagined he would enjoy the chance to see Kiseo again, and visa versa. “Very well then, it’s a deal” Ignocious said as he put his hand out for Kiseo to shake it.

For a moment, Kiseo became confused and then it dawned on her. She extended her hand out and carefully took his. Her claws remained in her fingers to avoid cutting him.

"After we load up those mandrakes, I'll work on that letter. I will also send you a heat stone to keep them warm during the trip. It will only last a few weeks so I hope you can create a place to store them."

Alasdair was walking through the keep’s garden’s contemplating the past couple months. The once green and colourful gardens were now cold and dead with the only greenery being the short frost covered grass. At the very least the sound and smell of the sea, that were only separated from the gardens by a stone wall, helped soothe Alasdair’s nerves. Things had gone from bad to worse. The Blackwells were getting more powerful by the day, Uzgob in open rebellion, Lanaya’s confession, the south becoming influenced by the teachings of this Rhodanthe and now the imperium was finally making their move after four hundred years. There was also the issue Katriana and what he should do with her. The logical solution would be to have her killed as soon as possible. But Alasdair already knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do it to her. If he kept her safely in the keep then people would become suspicious of her identity and discover the truth. After his meeting with her he had sent a message to Claus, ordering him to keep her out of harm's way only to immediately realized his mistake the day after. Claus would now likely be questioning why Alasdair cared so much for this peasant girl and might even make inquiries. To think that, against all odds, that the bastard daughter of Helyot Remonnet would unknowing and by completely accident cross paths with him. Had she been some random bastard Alasdair would have had her killed there and then. But she wasn’t, she was Anna’s daughter, the only thing of her that still existed in this world. Yet she was also the rightful heir to the throne, the only heir to the throne and the greatest threat to Alasdair’s claim. Alasdair never believed in the gods, but if they did exist they truly had a cruel sense of humour. Alasdair was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of shouting coming from deeper into the garden. The sounds sounded like that of two people having a sparring match, one a woman’s voice and another man's. Alasdair gave a signal to two steel fist guardsmen who stood a dozen meters away, Immediately they rushed to his side without hesitation. Alasdair had to admit he felt a lot safer with them guarding the castle than he ever did with the previous keep’s guardsmen. With his guards following closely behind him Alasdair made his way towards the sound of the shouting. What he found was most surprising; Lady Kanna sparing against one of her guards. The guard himself was particularly focused on maintaining his defence while Kanna, dressed in a kimono and hakama, was delivering swift and precise strikes against her opponent in order to break through. Alasdair decided to watch from a distance, curious to see not only to see how long it would take for her to notice him, but also if he could learn anything about the lady Kanna through observing the way she fought.

The Akaiban noblewoman pushed into her opponents space, her practice sword striking against her opponents filling the garden with the sounds of their match. All of her guard were experienced and talented samurai, so the match was more of a test of her skill than theirs. Only a handful of the men were dressed for practice, the others were in full armour and had true weapons strapped to their sides. Were they at home, the whole unit could have participated, but on foreign soil within foreign walls, they couldn’t cripple themselves just to spar. Those on duty noticed Alasdair’s approach, but Kanna and her opponent did not. No one would disrupt the match and if either participant were to split their attention, it would be over. Kanna pressed Inoue, all but one of her strikes sliding off his sword. The last one felt... wrong and that was the moment he was looking for. Some mistake in her rhythm or form that would give him the opening he needed to parry or disarm her and his patience paid off. He struck her sword as her arms came down, causing her arm to bounce back from the impact, exposing her chest for him to strike that would result in his victory.
As he thrusted forward, she stepped backwards commanding her body to follow the momentum of her arms back, giving her enough room to regain her form. It was her turn to be on the defensive. Inoue’s strikes were relentless. It wasn’t long before the jarring impact of his wooden sword against hers was too much for her body to handle causing her grip on her weapon to fail. It flew from her hands and she had moments to react to his next strike.He thrusted his sword forward again to land a strike on her chest, but she stepped into it, turning her body so that their opposite arms were parallel to each other. She grabbed his wrist and pulled it back in a small circle, pulling the rest of his body with him and causing him to fall to the ground, his sword was sent flying across the turf. Using her other hand, she took control of his arm, locking his elbow and pushing his shoulder blade into the ground while the hand that controlled the wrist to help drive his limb downward. If he moved she could break his arm. It was at this moment Toshiro, the Captain of her guard, spoke.

“Kanna-sama, we have a royal audience.”

His words snapped her out of the fight and caused her to look up at him. He nodded his head towards something behind her and she turned her head to see what he was referring to. Her dark brown eyes caught Alasdair’s and she immediately released her grip on Inoue. The man got up easily, rotating his shoulder and wristing as he stood. Bowing towards Kanna, he thanked her for the match, though breathing heavily. “I am honored to have been your opponent, Kanna-sama.”

”The honor is mine, Inoue-san.” She said, turning back to him with a soft smile and a short bow, she worked to catch her own breath. ”I obviously have much more to learn.” Turning back to the captain she asked for the whereabouts of her translator. She hadn’t seen where the brown haired woman had went to once morning practice started and Kanna hoped she didn’t run off too far. Toshiro motioned towards a bench at the edge of the clearing where Meredith must have taken a seat, but she was already walking halfway to where they stood at a brisk pace.

Once the Nyhem native woman reached the pair, she bowed and spoke quickly,”My apologies Kanna-sama, I came as soon as I noticed the situation. Would you like to speak with him?”

Dusting her clothes, Kanna replied, ”Yes, let us head over now as we’ve already wasted enough time.”

Bowing again towards Kanna, Meredith lead them to where Alasdair stood. Meredith curtsied as Kanna bowed in greeting to their host.

”My apologies if we disturbed your walk, your majesty.”

“Not at all, if anything you have only served to make it more entertaining. It is most interesting to see a daughter of Akaiba partake in battle. I thought Iba women joining the military was frowned upon? Even here in Formaroth it is certainly uncommon, outside of the church anyway”.

"Indeed, my father was not particularly thrilled when I expressed interest, but once I showed I had an affinity for it, he became less opposed."

"And how does the emperor of Akaiba fare these days. From what I gather his opinions on Formaroth are apathetic at best" Alasdair replied.

"When I saw him last, he was of sound body and mind, so I would assume that still holds true. As for my father's opinion on foreign nations, I cannot speak on it as I do not know them."

"His previous interactions with Formaroth haven't been the friendliness, hence my surprise when I learnt he had asked for support from us, even under the circumstances"

"Would you not have done the same were the roles reversed?"

"Perhaps, but I'm not a samurai am I" Alasdair smirked "at the very least this invasion will finally wake up the formarothian nobles into realising just how dangerous the imperium is. Had they invaded sooner then perhaps the realm wouldn't of fractured apart. Though with a man as stubborn as Andris, who knows".

"Protecting a country and its people is the sole responsibility of those who run it. It does not matter if you are Samurai or not."

“A most noble sentiment” Alasdair responded in a voice that could have been either genuine or mocking “It is a shame, to many rulers are so prideful that they refuse to do what is necessary for fear of hurting their precious honour”.

Kanna took a moment before answering to gather her thoughts. She wasn't sure of his intentions and it made her wary. "And what is your position on the matter? Would you do what is necessary?"

"Of course" Alasdair said with a cunning smile "Those who are willing to do whatever is necessary to win are the ones who survive. Those who proceed to strangle themselves with codes of honour and chivalry are destined to fail. A simple yet undeniable truth”.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that." the conversation wasn't exactly what Kanna was expecting and she definitely did not wish to spoil the aid she came to retrieve with a discussion over the importance of honor and being a person of worth. Now that she wasn't moving anymore, the crisp breeze that was previously soothing to her warm skin was now freezing and cut through her clothes like a blade. She was not dressed to stand in the cold. Kanna rubbed her arms for heat as she spoke. "May we continue this conversation inside or do you have other commitments to attend to?"

“I have nothing pressing as of now, let us continue this conversation inside. Walk with me”. He said as he said as he gestured his hand to his side.

Before she followed his lead, she turned to her captain who was standing behind her left shoulder. "The men can choose to either continue to practice or clean up and meet with us indoors. Whether by your decision or theirs those are the two options."

She didn't feel the need for the guard to be at full force with her, but she respected their sense of duty and so, offered them a choice. She also didn't wait to see what the captain decided as he simply bowed at her instructions and left. Turning back to Alasdair she offered him a soft smile and a slight bow of her head. "By your leave."

Alasdair led Kanna through the gardens towards the arched doorway that led back into the keep, the steel fist guards keeping a respectable distance behind them. Kanna was something of an enigma to Alasdair; she held herself up as a warrior rather than a diplomat, yet had more grace and decorum than most of the ambassadors in his service. “While the open air helps me think I must confess in this weather there is only so much I can bear before the chill becomes too much for me”.

"Back home there are monks who will spend a hundred days in the middle of winter with little food and mostly without a source of heat. These one hundred days are spent in silence, meditation, and performing cold water purification rituals." Kanna spoke as one would when giving a presentation but when she spoke next, it was in a more playful tone. She turned her face up to him. "So I like to tell myself,''At least I am not them” on days like this. It makes it a little easier to bear."

“Most intriguing, though it makes one wonder how many survive such an ordeal” Alasdair replied “Or for what purpose these men decide to it suffer for”

"It is not for the faint of heart and many who think they can pass the ordeal fail. It is a spiritual practice and those who manage to complete the ceremony are highly respected."

"There are easier ways to earn respect" Alasdair replied "Your own family for example, have garnered respect from across all of Seikatsu. Even here in Formaroth we have heard the fame of house Sadatake and their prowess for combat, statecraft and magical bloodlines. A great reputation, that did not require anyone to freeze themselves to death in order to obtain it".

"There are easier ways, but as I said, it is more a spiritual journey than one for the sole purpose of gaining popularity. Most monks do not care for the respect it gives as they generally live more simpler, self-less lives. But you honor me with your praise of my family's achievements." Kanna slightly bowed her head towards Alasdair as she spoke. It is argued that her family had divine right to the roles that they lead and that belief has garnered a lot of leeway with other officials across the country. "Have you ever visited Seikatsu?"

“I have never had the pleasure. My duties as the head advisor and now as emperor means I rarely leave Sypius. When I do it is usually only to visit my homeland of Cawanor”.

”That is unfortunate.” she replied. Kanna wasn’t sure if her father would agree to having the foreign monarch visit but maybe if their armies helped to repel the invasion, she could formulate a strong argument.”Would you ever want to see it?”

“I’m always willing to visit new and interesting places, though my duty as emperor is for life. I expect I will spend the majority of my life here in this keep, such is the burden of a dedicated ruler” Alasdair decided to turn the questioning towards Kanna “How about yourself? I imagine as princess of Akaiba you find little time to travel to other kingdoms”?

"This is the first time I have ever had a desire to leave the country. My brother had more wanderlust…" Here she paused, plagued by the shadows of her twin's past. Anger and pain flared through her causing her to take a moment to gain control of her voice before continuing. "I am normally very busy traveling the country under the direction of my father."

Alasdair decided against asking about her brother. He had read reports about his mistreatment at the hands of elven pirates before she had arrived. He imagined it would be in poor taste to talk about him. “I see, though I am sure if you ever wished to explore the world you would be able to?” Alasdair questioned, trying to get a better idea of just how free Kanna truly was in her own kingdom.

"I'm sure I would have an easier time than most if I had wanted to travel, but I am much needed at home." she replied. "Though, I am intrigued by the culture and would be interested in learning more if time allowed it." Kanna was not sure if she would ever walk these shores again, but she believed it was a possibility if things were to work smoothly in the future.

“Providing we are not all destroyed by the imperium, I trust this will be the start of a great alliance between our people. For too long had Formaroth kept to it’s own borders, it is time we finally took our place in the wider world, as a nation worthy of both fear and respect. One that both the imperium and sovereignty will have to acknowledge”.

”One step at a time.” Kanna stated. She wasn’t one to get too ahead of herself and liked to deal with situations in a systematic order. She hadn’t realized how long they were walking for, as their conversation was going better than anticipated and the young woman wasn’t sure where they were going. With this break in conversation, Kanna had a moment to appreciate the ornate decorations that filled the foreign monarch’s home and she decided that while it spoke of great skill, she wasn’t a fan of the cornucopia of colors and patterns. It was simply overwhelming for Kanna and she must have looked so plain and out of place. The thought brought nearly brought a small smile to her face, but she managed to maintain her composure before speaking again. ”May I ask where we are headed?”

"Just through here" Alasdair said as they turned left into a barren corridor with naught but candlesticks decorating the walls. At the end was a steel door guarded by two steel fist guards, who upon seeing their emperor approach stood at attention before one of them quickly unlocked the door. Before Alasdair even reached the door it had been opened for him allowing him and Kanna to enter the room without having to slow pace. The room was the crowns relic vault, where the Remmonnet's had kept all their most valued treasures. The room was filled with many items of legend, on one wall hung the sword of queen Ysabelle still shiny and sharp as if it were freshly forged. It was one of the few royal dwarven steel swords that wasn't buried with its owner. In a glass display cabinet lay the golden crown of king Adeland adorned with emeralds and rubies. A suit of armour stood proudly in the center of the room for this had been the armour of King Richard the first and had been worn by him during his conquest of Formaroth near 500 years ago. Still bearing the battle scars it sustained through the countless battles it had seen. Though these were not the items Alasdair wanted to show Kanna. Instead he walked over towards the back of the long room. In the corner stood what he was looking for. The armour of a famed samurai and great grandfather to Kanna Sadatake.

”How do you have this?” Kanna asked firmly, doing her best to keep it from being a demanding question. This particular set of armour has been engraved in her skull since she was a child. The two golden curved horns that sat atop the black helmet and the blood red oni half mask were a dead giveaway to the suit that was worn by her great grandfather, Oda Sadatake. The rest of the armour was black with red accent stitching. It was a treasure for her family and had been presumed to be lost and only existed in paintings, until now.

“It was recovered when Emperor Oda’s body was found” Alasdair replied calmly, ignoring the accusational tone in Kanna’s voice. “As I am sure you know he was ambushed by his enemies while travelling to Nyhem on a diplomatic mission. King Richard the third however wasn’t the most...” Alasdair paused for a moment as he tried his best not to insult the previous monarch “diplomatic. Instead of returning it to it’s rightful owner he kept it safely locked away here. After his brief time as high king I am ashamed to say the armour was forgotten about. Afterall relations between the Iba and the crown were not exactly close in those days. Something I plan to change. By returning this-“ Alasdair said as he extended his arm towards the armour “to its original owner, I hope to take us one step closer to a more permanent alliance.”

The young noblewoman stepped towards the suit, her footsteps silent against the marbled floors, and raised her right hand to touch the chest piece of the treasured heirloom. Her pale fingers gently brushed against cool metal plates which she noticed were highly polished. Though forgotten by previous monarchs of this country, whomever had the task of upkeeping the treasures of this foreign vault did not neglect the foreign work that graced the room with its presence and she greatly appreciated the care that person, or persons, took. While she did admire everything else the vault had to show, the small piece of home that was displayed in front of her simply held more value to her than anything else that Alasdair could show her.

”It is definitely a start.. Kanna spoke softly, her attention still focused on the armour in front of her while she moved to touch the face mask designed with the idea to strike fear into the enemies of its wearer. ”...in the right direction.”

“I am glad to hear it” Alasdair said with a smug smile, it seemed she had not noticed. “I will have the imperial guard carry it down to your ship, I am sure your father will be happy to lays his eyes upon it. Alas, as much as I have enjoyed our conversation I must attend to my duties at once. I pray you enjoy your remaining time here in Formaroth.” Alasdair said with a wide smile.

The young Iban woman turned to give the foreign ruler her full attention as he spoke. While she wanted in her heart for this armor to be authentic and proudly present it to her family, she simply knew better. Collecting herself, she bowed to Alasdair before speaking. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me and returning this armor to my family. If time allows, I hope we have the opportunity to speak again as it was both informative and enjoyable."

“Likewise”, Alasdair replied as he turned around and headed towards the door. It had taken the smiths a great deal of time to forge the armour, and the scholars even longer to ensure it bore an identical resemblance to the original. The real armour had been lost over a decade ago when Cawanorian soldiers sieged Nyhem. Now Alasdair hoped that neither Kanna nor her family would realise it was a duplicate. Though even if they did, they could hardly accuse their new ally of being a liar.

Turning to Meredith, who had been graciously translating, Kanna thanked the other woman for her services and dismissed her for the rest of the morning. She also invited her for some tea over some Formarothian lessons later in the afternoon. While she had grown to like her native translator and trusted her enough to learn foreign languages from, Kanna did not want her to overhear what she said next. ”Toshiro-san, has Sora returned from his journey home?”

Sora was the name of the messenger hawk they had sent shortly after her initial talk with the Emperor, sending her father news of the alliance. Shaking his head, the captain spoke, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. ”No Kanna-sama, it will be another day or two before he returns and he will need to rest. I hope by his return, we will be heading home ourselves.”

”Only time will tell. In the meantime, once he returns I will need him to go back again, however this time he will go to my brother.”

With her instructions given, they departed from the relic vault, leaving the black and red Akaiban armour to stand alone amongst foreign treasures once more.

Imperial Formaroth transport fleet, nearing Coruneon.
It had taken days to just organise the force and get them to the transport fleet based in the harbor. Half a day to just load the men unto the ships and the fleet had sailed east for some time before spotters on the foremost ship called ‘land ahoy’. Something Claus had waited on for some time.
As usual he had made sure to be placed on the first ship in the flotilla as to be the first of his men to make landfall, he preferred to lead from the front, even if it was a bit foolish at times.

He stood at the fore and gazed upon the closing land of Coruneon, he didn’t really look forward to meeting up with his additional forces there. He was to meet up with the forces of Wulfrick and Greensworth, people he had no grudges against. No, the problem was the forces of Tuania, of whom he had a bit of a recent history with. He hoped they wouldn’t try to assassinate him or something.
He stood with a foot atop a barrel and held onto a rope for balance, wearing his new armour, it was mostly a new cuirass but he had made sure to order it reinforced over the breast, with fluting for extra strength and bordered with roping for added flair. It was now blued to a black sheen instead of painted black and painted with the clenched white fist atop its surface.
He had kept his old helmet, now reshaped to be even again, but it had a slight bend to it still and most of the old battle scars.

The wind blew strongly, but not too harshly. With a strong salty smell and taste in the air which Katrina could smell and taste as she approached Claus.

“You’ve been rather quiet the past few days sir” Katriana said with a smirk. After her voyages between Sypius and Telmarion she had grown accustomed to the sea, even if her legs still shook a bit “You still haven’t explained why you made me visit my uncle. I was quite content using couriers to reach out to him, even if it used up half my wages to do so” She said as she rubbed the back of her head where her uncle had slapped her. She had barely said two words before he had done it. It was clear he was not happy that she had run off to join the steel fist. At the very least after the first half an hour of shouting he had calmed down. As frustrated as she had been with him prior to leaving it was good to talk to him again. She was just relieved that she hadn’t ruined their relationship. As much as they drove each other up the wall, they still loved each other, in their own stubborn hardened way. It was strange, while it was clear he wanted her to come back he almost now seemed content with the decisions she had made. He had always been so protective of her during her childhood, perhaps he had finally come to accept she was old enough to make her own choices. Not that the stubborn bastard would ever admit it.

Claus stood and watched for a few seconds before turning his head and answering.
-”I guess i wanted you to save your wages to buy other stuff.” The smirk betrayed his lie, which was exactly his intention.
-”As for being quite we’re off to war, lots of things to think about.” He turned away and avoided the question, it wasn’t too obvious but Katrina picked up on it.

“But that’s not all is it sir”? Katriana said, unamused by how Claus avoided her question “Ever since you met my uncle you have been acting weird around me”.
Only now did Claus turn his head to her, eyed her from top to bottom and then smiled.
-”Ever the stubborn one are we? Alright i’ll tell, I was worried if you’d feel vengeful with me after sending you to get things from the place you ran away from.” Claus smirked faked a sheepish expression.

Katriana’s face turned sour as Claus continued to avoid her question. She knew it was no coincidence that Claus visited her uncle shortly after her own meeting with the emperor. They all knew something about her mother and they were all keeping it from her. Still she knew how stubborn Claus was, if she tried to push now it would likely backfire and make him more persistent in not telling her. She would have to bide her time.

“What’s our first move once we land, sir” Katriana said, not trying to hide the bitterness in her voice.
Noticing her sour mood, he ignored the whole idea completely.
-”On landfall in Coruneon we’ll meet up with the Telmarion, Orog and Nash forces and their assigned dirtbags and lords in that order, you’ll have to do a lot of counting and then we’ll plan the final move up north.”

“What do you expect we’ll face” Katriana replied “Based on what the couriers have said Lycaon is doing well enough clearing out the rebels without our help”.
-”What i expect? Hopefully it ain’t elephants.” Claus almost shuddered at the thought, he kept on.
-”Those are a real bother, so preferably none of those. Otherwise i’m not sure, probably some Uzgobian militia types, some regulars and perhaps a squadron of tribal auxiliary, but I'm not counting on those.” He was seriously considering what sort of enemies might show up. He was also unsure if any nobles forces would fight for the uprising, he pondered and stroke his chin. He shrugged.
-”There’s a big chance the couriers are correct and we’re only coming in to mop up the remnants. So let’s hope for that.”

Normally Katriana would have laughed at Claus’s comment regarding the elephants. Instead she simply turned around and headed back below deck.
A bit solemnly, Claus watched Katriana leave before returning his gaze towards the shore.
He didn’t like that Katriana was angry with him, she was a stubborn lass, that’s for sure.

Coruneon shore.
Much like he landed in Telmarion, Claus made sure he was among the first to make landfall in the first landing skiff. Walking up to some lesser officers waiting for his arrival.
What worried Claus greatly was a distinct lack of banners in the nearby encampment, missing large portions of the expected forces, even if the lack of Tuania banners was a relief.
The officers gave a nod and greeting with ‘General’.
-”What in Timtos festive surprises is this? I’m not seeing the banners i’m expecting!” Claus was annoyed and wanted answers, the younger officer present looked slightly taken aback while the older nodded and answered.
-”Not lord Timtos ser, it’s orders from above, the uprising is deemed not important and most of the forces are being sent to support the war in Seikatsu.”
Claus was slightly surprised when answering.
-”Seikatsu? Against the elves? Why wasn’t I sent there? I have a lot of experience in elven battle tactics and strategy.”
The group had begun walking and a pair of corpsmen intercepted the entourage which began to march towards the camp. The older officer reported once more.
-”No idea ser, can’t fathom the thinking of the imperial family, think it’s from them. You were to keep marching upon Uzgob.”
-”Hmph, well boss probably has a reason to, I just don’t like sudden changes of plans. Alright, let’s begin to assess our forces, my quartermaster is right behind me and with her i’ll begin the assessment of our forces.” Following that was a thorough assessment of the forces to march upon Uzgob, with the Tuania section and several others missing, there was only four and a half thousand troops left for the north.

Claus found himself once more with a local lordling, on an eastern shore inspecting troops that would be fighting against forces from Uzgob and just like last time, he was walking in front of Telmarion militia with broken spears and rotten shields.
At least lord Petrus Bornian of Coruneon wasn’t the snob Tuania was, but a similar sense of pride washed over him when they walked in front of his own forces. Claus at least was happy that the primary Coruneon unit of his supporting forces were at least armed properly, even if their haphazard training showed through in how the men stood at attention, given that calling what they did was ‘standing at attention’ by any standard was a bit of an overstatement..
This time he had enough and simply rubbed the bridge of his nose and just kept inspecting the troops.

Following the militia groups was something Claus was surprised and happy to see, even if he had little experience in leading cavalry personally.
Arrayed with banners held high and the cavaliers being at full attention with lances held high, the heavy cavalry from Nash was a beauty to behold.
-”Now we’re talking, how many of these gentlemen do we have?” Claus asked hopefully, but his hopes was slightly crushed when the answer was five hundred.
-”I see… well we’re here for mop up anyway. I’ll just have to make do.” He longingly took a closer look at one of the Nash armsmen, flawless attention and great control of his horse, clad in plated maillé and a visored helm with a striking black and white plume. A fine white silk Sash draped over the breastplate of the cavaliers.

He finished his inspection, obviously showing off his Steel Fist forces to lord Bornian, who were more impressed than young boy Tuania had been, which gave Claus good hope for this campaign and his new ally.
Overall two thousand militia from Coruneon, a thousand more from Telmarion even though Claus almost preferred not to have them. From Orog a thousand arms men were gathered, while not crack troops he saw that they were dependable and of course he had his Nash cavalry, his ace in the sleeve apart from his own vanguard.

Sitting in the command tent, Claus, lord Bornian his aides and Katriana had at length discussed marching orders and various details of logistics and inter combat group relations.
Katriana herself was pleased that the numbers were so low. On a more selfish side it meant far less work for her but on the other it also meant that the threats they were to face in Uzgob were likely to be less formidable than they originally thought. Afterall Katriana doubted Alasdair would send his forces all the way to Seikatsu otherwise. Unless perhaps the imperium posed an even greater threat than she could imagine, the thought made her shudder.

“Considering that we have far less soldiers to have to outfit now, we may want to consider getting decent equipment for the Telmarion forces, else they may be something of a liability” Katriana reported to Claus, she had allowed her bitterness towards him to subside for now while she focused on her job.

-”Giving them our practice stuff would be better than their own gear.” His bitterness was showing through. “But to outfit that large a group on short notice will take some time. Also is the fact that the Tuanias should have been outfitting their poor sods in an acceptable way before sending them off to war so I'm not inclined to pay their expenses… but then again their weapons are pretty much rubbish, so I'm keeping the suggestion open, what do you sirs think about that?” Claus turned to Borneas and his aides, whom pondered the question and lord Borneas was the first to mouth his view on the matter.
-”The outfitting of the Telmarian militia is hardly of concern, we’re not expecting heavy fighting and as General Rotstein pointed out it would take valuable time, time we could be moving or fighting battles and generally finishing up this whole Uzgob ordeal.” Several nods from the aides and Borneas quartermaster added.
-”I agree with lord Borneas, while the poor equipment of the militia is an apparent threat to their fighting potential, we’re mostly here to do mop up after the church. On top of the fact that they should indeed have been equipped better by their masters, something i suggest we bring to attention in the campaign reports.” More agreements from those present apart from Claus and Katriana whom were concerned about the whole deal.
-”True, but what if there is a proper battle or two? A full third of our forces would be close to useless in such an event. That’d be possibly devastating.” Claus concerns were truthful but met little support.
-”Lord Borneas, do you have any weapons that could be used by the militia? The empire would of course buy them or return them after the campaign.” His question was direct but without any real emotion.

“As you know, Coureon has numerous strongholds and hillforts scattered around the kingdom. Each one has its own barracks so that the local militia can quickly arm themselves in the event of an invasion. Provided we have a guarantee that our losses will be compensated I could send word to the fort’s quartermasters to have the weapons and arms delivered to us”? Lord Borneas responded.
Claus pondered slightly, before answering.
-”It’s good that you are willing to lend the arms should they prove useful elsewhere, however i feel that it would waste far too much time to send for those arms and have them distributed, especially with the fact that the church has dealt with the primary threat in this campaign. So considering that we’ll not be bringing those weapons, the Tuanias should have armed their men properly to begin with.” He put forth his opinion matter of factly but one could notice the hint of disapproval in the mentioning of house Tuania.
Upon this turn Katriana got a bit reserved and bitter but didn’t word the fact. She did want those poor souls to be armed better and she recalled the siege of Clarm.
She also recalled the battle of Telmarion where thousands of similarly armed men had been slaughtered by the Mandarass forces, barely any chance for survival. It was a miracle by Timtos or Leplo that any survived at all.
She however understood Claus reasoning and kept her mouth shut.

The rest of the meeting was for lots of details like marching order and supply chains, where all present did their best to figure out the best solution for all the problems they could think of.
Almost two hours later the imperial force moved out, north, to Uzgob.
It was a long march ahead and the imperial forces were moving at a decent pace, still not knowing what would come next.

---

The sand was cool against his back, the sky above him blanketed with clouds that grew steadily darker as a storm began to blow in from the sea. He could feel the breeze, even through the high bulwark of sand and corpses that served as his final line of defence. The heavy gusts had driven the Akaiban ships to anchor for fear of being driven into the shallows and the flatbows, more often than not, found their missiles being snatched away before they could find the intended target.

An Imperial banner, jammed into a pair of corpses, snapped bravely in the wind, flaunting the existence of the survivors to their enemy. It was an enemy that little could be seen of. The retreat had finally come to a halt in the scrub grass that bordered the white sand beach and frantic digging, using helmets and breastplates for shovels, had managed to create a crude bulwark above the high tide line. Working parties had pulled the dead from the sea and the dying from their ranks to build the bulwark higher still until an elf could safely crawl on all fours without fear of being hit by an enemy missile. They had even become accustomed to the odd groan or plea for help from those they has used to strengthen the defences.

“M’lord.” A soldier scurried along through the sand that had burnished his platemail shin-guards to an eye hurting shine. “M’lord.” He called again quietly. It was unlikely that the Akaiba knew where Hycis was, let alone if he was alive, but there was no sense in taking chances.

“Here.” Hycis hissed, waving his hand to attract the soldiers’ attention. The elf slithered into the crater Hycis and his bodyguard had dug, offered a quick salute, and then gestured down the length of the trenchline.

“I did a count, as you ordered. I put our numbers at two thousand, give or take a hundred. Many are wounded. But all can fight. They all WILL fight!” He said the last few words with a passion that made Hycis smile. It faded quickly however as the import of the numbers sank into his brain. He had less than two percent of the soldiers he had started with, and there was no hope of relief.

General Taketora stood beneath the waving tree branches, his eyes fixed on the insolent Elven banner that floated above the makeshift wall of sand and corpses. He was aware of the storm that was brewing and had already soundly cursed the wind that made any sort of archery impossible. To rout the elves out would cost human lives, lives that were desperately needed back home.

The messenger had reached him two days ago, during the long pursuit. The armies of the Imperium had smashed Beival, as anticipated, but with far fewer losses than hoped for. Already they were moving west, convinced that Hycis and his ilk would help them in springing the trap that he had already undone. His men needed time to rest and refit, time to drink and eat, and that time was swiftly slipping away. While the storm served to prevent his archers from wrecking havoc on the survivors, it also provided shade and soon, fresh water.

Even a two-day delay was to more than he could afford. He would have no choice but to order his men to attack the barricades. At least he could give them every advantage possible.

“Keikan-san,” He gestured for the nearby Rune-Lord to join him. “What can you do to help my men right now if I order an attack?”

The woman stared through narrowed eyes at the ragged but formidable barrier for a long moment and then a small smile turned up the corner of her mouth. “I can give them a doorway through.”

“Nothing else?” Taketora was famous for demanding much of his subordinates.

“I am afraid that many of my other options will be effected by this wind, Taketora-sama.” The raven haired head inclined in a small bow.

“Then prepare your spell.” Snarled the General as he turned and waved two crouching officers toward him. They leapt to their feet and hurried forward, bowing to him with correct depth. Young eager eyes shone from behind their red masks. “Make your men ready. Keikan-san is going to open a path. I will follow and we will take the beach.”

“Yes, Taketora-sama.” The two said in unison, hurrying away toward the soldiers who sheltered from the wind behind the thick brush that edge the scrubland beyond. To Taketora it looked as though the entire landscape began to move as signal paddles flashed in the gathering shadows.

Hycis felt rather than heard the movement of the samurai. The reverberation in the earth sending small trickles of sand cascading down from the barricade. He felt a sick sensation in his stomach. This was the end. The enemy was coming.

“Father?” His eldest son, a bloody scab across one cheek, reached out and took his hand. The two clasped armoured fists for a moment and Hycis could not help but wonder what sort of leaders his children would have made had he not led them to this end.

“They are coming.” Hycis whispered. Then, with more vigour, he shouted along the trench. “They are coming!”

Taketora could see shapes moving along the top of the trench. The curve of helmets and shoulders as the elves sensed the movement of thousands of samurai. He didn’t bother to look at the Rune-lord or his own men as he stepped out of the trees and into the clear. He could feel rain begin to spatter against his armour and he drew the killing sword from his waist and raised it high.

Hycis watched the blade glitter even in the failing light. Heavy raindrops slammed into the sand all around him, almost like tears, and he could not help but admire the courage of the man in front of him. His armour was ornate, his bearing proud, this was a man to be feared and respected. Perhaps, in another life, they might have been allies.

He drew his own sword, hefting his battered shield, and glancing around him at his sons. Only three remained but none looked afraid as they followed his example. All along the trench he could see soldiers preparing for this, their final battle. It almost seemed, for a moment, as if time slowed.

A wounded elf, one hand gone, tightened the strap of his helmet. Another, an eye covered in a mask of blood, was piling spears next to him. Still others hugged, gripped hands, and, in some cases, embraced as lovers would. So many lives yet unlived. And for what?

For the first time in his life he found himself wondering why the Imperium had come to Seikatsu. He had been told that they needed new lands to conquer, new lands to populate, but at what cost? He had led eighty thousands men into battle and he doubted any of them would see home again. Could the armies that remain sweep aside the Akaiba? In his heart of hearts he did not think so.

“Akaibaaaaa!!” The roar rose from the forest and Keikan stepped forward, raising two palms toward the beach. She muttered swift words and the runes all across her body flared blue, a sudden blast of light against the black forest. A pulse of energy hurled forth from her hands and slammed into the barricade. Bodies, both living and dead, were hurled through the air as a breach was opened. It was all Taketora needed.

“SADATAKE!” He screamed the name of his Shogun into the gathering storm and charged. Behind him thousands of samurai echoed his cry until the whole beach shook with it, the drum of their feet drowning out even the sound of rain that suddenly burst upon them in a might deluge.

“To me! Sons of the Imperium!” Hycis gave cry and stood at last, stepping forward so that his shield was above the wall of corpses. It seemed as though the entire forest was moving forward, red armoured samurai swarmed across the land, trampling the scrub grass flat, their war cry rolling over the elves like a wave.

The elven cheer was feeble in comparison, but at least they did not run. Spears, long husbanded for this moment, floated out from the elven lines to crash into samurai and sand alike. Akaiban’s fell here and there, armoured shapes crashing to the sand, blood washed away instantly by the pouring rain.

Taketora’s calves burned from the effort of running, every two steps forward seemed to result in one step backward as the sand shifted underfoot. He ducked a well-thrown spear, knocked another from the air with his sword, and then he was into the gap made by Keikan-san.

An elf, his face half covered in a mess of bloody scabs, screamed and lunged a spear toward Taketora gut. He tried to side step, slipped on the sand, and was pushed aside by other samurai as they swarmed through the gap. The spearelf died, his face laid open to the bone, as a sword hacked down.

Hycis watched the Samurai General, first through the breach, slip and then be pushed aside by his fellows as they killed the elf who had lunged so bravely with his broken spear. The Samurai turned toward Hycis as two others pulled their General to his feet.

His son, he could not tell them apart in their armour, leapt forward and drove his blade toward the samurai who now came toward them. The leading man turned the blade with ease and chopped his sword down so that an elven head rolled into the mud. It had looked easy, like killing an ox.

His eldest, he had not left his fathers side, snatched up a spear and hurled it with brutal force at the samurai who gave a surprised grunt, staring down at the weapon that burst through his chest, before toppling into the mud.

Taketora saw the samurai die, the spear sticking up from his chest like some branchless tree. A dozen or so elves faced him, but one of them, his armour and weapons finer than the others, caught his eye.

“I want him alive!” He pointed with his sword, his words a roar, as samurai went to avenge their dead comrade. “Alive!”

Hycis could not ignore the sword that had singled him out. He could not understand the words but he could guess their meaning easily enough. He hefted his sword, brought his shield up in front of his body and began to crab walk across the bottom of the trench now slick with blood of the dead and dying.

In the end, his heroics served him little good. The samurai, rested and unwounded, quickly overwhelmed the pitiful survivors in the trench. Hycis and his sons managed to kill a pair of the samurai before they sensibly withdrew and hedged him in on all sides with long spears, constantly jabbing from every angle until he wanted to cry with frustration.

The rain thickened, as if such a thing were possible, and the bottom of the trench filled rapidly until he was knee deep in bloodied water. He watched in fascination over the rim of his shield as the samurai drowned wounded elves in muddy water, holding them down until their feeble struggles stopped.

The ring of spears slowly tightened until Hycis and half a dozen elves, his two remaining sons included, were pressed so close together they could not use their swords.

“I want the General alive.” Taketora stood on the top of the trench, staring down at the wretched collection of elves. This was all that remained of their vaunted army. It was a small part, but every dead elf was one less to attack Akaiba. “Kill the rest.”

The spears hammered forward and Hycis screamed as his sons died beneath the reaching blades. The few survivors around him were quickly disarmed or killed until he stood alone. He wept in frustration as he raised his sword and prepared to die with honour.

He never saw the spear shaft that crashed into the back of his helmet, pitching him forward into the bottom of the trench. He felt water in his mouth for an instant and then the world went black.

Alasdair was pacing back and forth across his chambers. He had just received news that Isabel’s condition was worsening and that the mages had done all they could. Now all he could do was wait and hope the gods would be merciful. Though if they were they wouldn’t have put his sister in this situation in the first place, Alasdair thought bitterly. The alchemists had left her in a comatose state, stating that if she were woken the pain would be excruciating for her, with the stress caused likely to worsen her condition. Alasdair was exhausted yet he was too worried about his sister to rest. He had asked one of the alchemists to give him something to help with his insomnia though it had done little to help his sleepless nights. Alasdair felt helpless but there was nothing he could do. He had brought in the greatest restoration mages, surgeons and alchemist from Hartland, Cawanor and Telmarion and they had all said the same.

It was then a thought occurred to him; their were restoration mages in the circle who had far greater skill then could be found anywhere else in Formaroth. By their own rules the circle did not involve itself in Formarothian politics anymore than it was absolutely needed to, hence why he hadn’t asked them before. Even as emperor the circle would turn down his request without hesitation. However with Lanaya’s help he might be able to convince them to help him, maybe even to send magisters to heal his sister. Ever since his last conversation with Lanaya, Alasdair had been avoiding her. He had constantly been questioning if he had been right in allowing her to live, let alone still work for the empire. But now he had no choice, his sister’s life was on the line. If she were to die, knowing that he hadn’t done everything he could to save her, Alasdair might as well through himself from the keep ramparts.

Lanaya was pacing back and forth in her quarters atop the keeps tallest tower. The mages tower, once Aurelia’s home, was now the gilded prison she confined herself to in the name of salvaging her political career. Every day had been a struggle in this place. The balcony was not locked, she was free to step outside, and from there, she was sure she would be able to shape shift and fly away before the guards could catch her. Every day she considered doing just that. She yearned to be free, to feel the wind in her wings, prance through the forest, ride the waves and sing to the sea. Yet it seemed that was not to be her fate. She would not make an outcast of herself for such petty desires.

And so, she paced. Paced, and plotted. Her options were few, but she could not help it. She had to keep her mind busy, and this was the best way she knew to do so.

As Alasdair approached the door to the mages tower the two steel fist guards who had been assigned to shadow Lanaya stood at attention.

“Inform the lady Lanaya that I wish to talk with her” Alasdair commanded. In response the corpsman on the right sharply knocked on the door before announcing “Emperor Alasdair wishes to speak with you, make presentable”.

The moment she heard the guard declare that the Emperor had arrived, one thought went through Lanaya’s head. Finally. She found herself suddenly quite excited - at long last, the playing pieces would move, the board would change, and maybe, just maybe, she may be able to act. She swiftly and carefully wove a spell over herself, and in a moment the light, plain dress she wore was covered in swirling patterns and color. Then, she called out in a pleasant voice.

“Enter.”

As Alasdair entered the room he made his face and posture as prentable as possible, despite his current sickly appearance.

“Lady Lanaya I was hoping to have a word with you regarding the circle” Alasdair said, trying to seem as affable as he could. Despite still being wary around Lanaya after her betrayal he had to ensure he didn’t insult her, not now that he needed something so desperately from her.

“Of course, your grace.” Lana replied, keeping her voice level, free of the mixture of excitement and frustration she felt so strongly right now. “I have kept in touch with them via correspondence, despite my current… predicament.” She was careful not to let any resent in her voice, she did not wish to come across as blaming Alasdair for her present restrictions.

“As you are aware my beloved sister is...her condition is not improving” Alasdair said trying not to dwell on Isabel’s current state. “While I have ordered every restoration mage worth their title from central Formaroth, I can’t help but wonder if the circle might be better suited to help her cure her aliment”? Alasdair continued trying to keep desperation from his voice, “I have heard that their are magisters there who specialize in restoration who have been able to cure conditions previously thought to be untreatable”?

“There are indeed restoration mages of superlative skill at the circle. I cannot promise that they would be able to treat Isabel’s ailment…” Lana said tentatively.

“Surely there is someone”? Alasdair asked unable to keep the desperation in his voice anymore “If the cost or travel time are an issue for them I can promise they will be well compensated”?

“I’m sure the gesture would be appreciated.” Lana began, in a conciliatory tone. “I know this is important to you your majesty. I will write them as soon as possible. If it is a request from a Magister, they will be more inclined to respond quickly.” She turned away towards her desk, but then paused for a moment. Turning back, she looked directly at Alasdair, and spoke, her voice genuine. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I cannot be of more help. I know how much your family means to you.”

Alasdair was happy to hear that Lanaya would write to the circle, though in his heart he knew there was realistically little she could do. While he did not have much knowledge on the inner politics of the circle Alasdair knew that Lanaya was not popular among their hierarchy, particularly after the incident with the collective.

“Thankyou Lady Lanaya, it is kind of you to say. Tell me, have you ever had the misfortune of a loved one suffer grave illness”?

“Illness… No.” Lana began, trying to sound sympathetic. “Much of my life was spent on the Summer Isles in the Circle. Illness is rare there… And I am rather lacking in family members. I’ve lost many friends to war…” She thought better of mentioning murder, not wishing to remind Alasdair of Aurelia. “But I cannot say I know what you are going through.”

“There is no feeling worse, not only to have one that you love suffer but to be utterly helpless in alleviating their pain” Alasdair paused for a moment wondering if he should speak so casually in front of Lanaya. Though he decided that after her confession any sign of emotional weakness on his part would pale in comparison to what she had already shown him. Besides Alasdair was desperate for someone he could confide in and as of now Lanaya was his best choice. “I know realistically there is little that can now be done for my sister” He said hating the words that came from his mouth but knowing them to be true all the same “but even if it is futile, I must do everything in my power to save her”.

“I know how important family is to you.” Lana began, here tone sincere. “I… won't pretend I know how you feel… But I will do all I can to help. You saved me. Perhaps I can repay that kindness by saving Isabel. You cannot give up hope so long as she yet lives.” She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, in the hopes that her touch might prove reassuring.

Alasdair had not been expecting a show of such affection from Lanaya, let alone a physical one as small as it was. Though his first instinct was to pull away or brush it off, he found it strangely comforting. It had been the first time since his sister had fallen ill that anyone had shown some degree of compassion. Even if it was from a traitor Alasdair welcomed it. “Thankyou Lady Lanaya, I would be grateful. In repayment I will now permit you to be able to travel freely throughout Nyhem again.” Alasdair paused for a minute as he realised he was being too generous, for all he knew Lanaya’s affection could have been nothing more than a farce. He didn’t think it was; Alasdair was good at reading people and could easily tell the difference between the noble sycophants who feigned concern and the surprisingly real concern Lanaya showed. Though he had been wrong before. “In the company of the imperial guard that is” He added.

Lana smiled when she heard Alasdair’s statement, barely able to contain her excitement at the prospect of flying again. Though, it quickly dimmed to only mild joy when he added the caveat… No guard would be able to accompany her through the air or the sea when she shape shifted. Still, it was a significant improvement from being confined to the castle.

“Thank you.” She began, her voice clearly joyful. “Thank you very much.”

“Continue to prove that you are indeed loyal to me and I will further extend your privileges” Alasdair continued, once again allowing a more formal attitude to surface “Do not delay in sending your message, I am unsure how much longer my sister has”.

For a moment, Lana considered pointing out that the fastest way to deliver the message would be to fly herself, but quickly thought better of it. It would likely be pushing her luck just a little too much.

“Of course your grace. I will see to it that the message travels by air as soon as it is written.”

"See that you do" Alasdair replied before heading towards the door and opening it. He took one step towards leaving before stopping, looking back at Lanaya and said a simple but genuine "Thankyou" before turning back and leaving the room.

Peering over the honestly arid wasteland in front of them from a cliff, two corpsmen from the Steel Fist gazed upon the field below. They were part of Claus so called scout corps and were used to scout ahead and report back to the steelhead. Right now they were taking a break and eating some jerky when their quarry was spotted.

Earlier, they had spotted riders, but not just any riders, Seikatsu riders. They weren't sure if they had been spotted themselves but they had returned to the main force and reported. This had intrigued Claus, he didn’t really know why there would be Seikatsu riders in the deserts, but he’d heard of the Grim company and his curiosity had been sparked.

This time, the two had been sent out to try and contact them. Johan scurried up, with jerky filling his mouth he raised a makeshift “flag”, a stick with a mostly white sock attached to it.
He stood up clearly and raised his banner high and waved in large motions, he was sure the riders would soon spot him.

Cautiously they closed, ready to attack with their readied spears, but both sides realized that this was only a scout team from each side. When the rider was way within shouting distance, he lowered his flag and held up a letter.

”It’s an offer of parley. For your leader.” Johan said clearly, offering the letter to the rider.

The Ishido eyed the Formarothian carefully before riding forward, his companion remaining several yards away with an arrow laid across his bow. A scarred hand was held out, the fingers closing around the letter. Ishido’s gaze never left Johans as the letter vanished, getting tucked beneath the samurais chest plate. He nodded at Johan and then turned and the two spurred away out into the desert, vanishing over the rise and into the darkness.

* * * * *

Tokugawa Ieasu turned the letter over in his hands, a messy but official looking wax seal on it. The paper was local, the writing messy, typical of what he had come to expect from Formarothians. He drew out a wickedly sharp knife from his waist regraded the seal for a moment. He recognized it as the new Imperial seal. Pondered for a moment and then swiftly slit the paper and drew out the document.

The writing was atrocious and it took him some time to figure out exactly what it said. At length he managed to decipher the writing.

“What does it say?” Lady Grim was sitting nearby, her feet up on a small futon, sipping green tea from a scalding hot mug, despite the evening desert heat.

“It seems that Claus, the man of the Steel Fist, is writing to you to discuss your motivations. He wishes to move an army through this area. He has had he would like to meet you, alone, five miles south of here. At the rock that looks like an Otters tail at midnight.”

She nodded. She knew the stone well. It was easy for anyone standing beside it to see the entire desert around. You couldn’t sneak up on a person there. “I will go.”

Tokugawa simply nodded. Arguing with her would be pointless. They would be able to keep a band of cavalry out of sight a mile or so away. Not that it would matter, Lady Grim was more than a match for any individual man.

It was twenty minutes later that Lady Grim and her escort thundered out of camp and into the desert.

* * * * *

Lady Grim knelt next to a small blaze set at the base of the Otter tail stone. She gazed into the flames, her magic flaring out around her, pulsing across the desert like a heartbeat. Sand trickled slowly between her fingers as she took up fistfuls and poured them from one hand to the other. Her escort waited out in the desert, well clear of the meeting place, as she waited for the Steel Fist.

Having only a small clue who to expect, Claus closed in on the Otter tail stone, something one of the guys had said was a landmark, it sure was a landmark, and the namesake was apt since one could easily see the smooth slightly curved spike rising into the starlit sky.

One could make out a small fire beneath the thing and some distance away a small bodyguard unit of samurai was seen. It was only Claus, Harper and Goyle who had closed with the place and he had them wait roughly the same distance away from the stone as the samurai, albeit from a different angle.

After making his way up a winding stone path, composed of a sort of natural staircase he eventually entered the globe of light that was the firelight illuminating its surroundings, seeing a woman beside it, very good looking, gorgeous even with her striking red hair. He noticed her pouring sand in between her hands.

”You doing some sort of prayer?” He said as he chose a comfy spot, standing with his hands on his hips in a laid back style, even stretching his back a little.

Rhaetia regarded the Formarothian as he struck what he probably thought was some sort of heroic pose. She stood now, letting the sand fall from her hand, until she was eye to eye with him. “The famous Claus of the Iron Fist. I am honoured.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone but she was intrigued nonetheless. “What can I do for you?”

He was going to correct her on the name but decided against it, he sighed and gave up for a second before reinvigorating himself and replying.

“The infamous lady Grim I assume? We meet at last. Never had the pleasure before.” He hadn’t made the connections before, but then again the Grim company wasn’t usually seen outside Seikatsu either. “What you can do is tell me what you’re doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” Her comment was flat and conveyed a promise of violence.

Claus noticed the hint of aggravation, this was no ordinary lass, something was off. “I’m here on orders of the Concord to mop up heretics, help solve the churches mess.” He was working on figuring out the odd woman in front of him, licking his teeth under his lips.

“The church!” Her laugh was almost a bark. “A mess of lies and treachery in its own right. Well, my armoured acquaintance, it seems the heretics are not so keen on being mopped up, which means we will have to fight.”

“So you’re working with the heretics? That’s unfortunate. Wouldn’t want to face the Grim company in combat after the stories….” He stroked his chin for a while, then got his most devious face and a shit-eating grin when he looked up at Grim.

* * * * *

---

Neldor Valur, High General of the Imperium, had fought over a thousand battles and laid siege to a hundred cities, but never in his life had he seen carnage like this. Corpses, elf and human alike, lay so thick that only by levitating could he avoid stepping in the gore; so many flies crawled across contorted features that it looked as if the dead were still slowly moving. Only Grand Master Kelvor joined him, likewise floating above the field of dead.

The dead spread out like a giant fan from the mighty breach blasted in the outer walls of Kalasin, capital of Vaiam. Burned siege towers, shattered ladders, and the horrible stink of burnt flesh told of the first failed elven attempts to capture the city walls. Only when the walls had been breached had elven troops stormed into the gap to be met with withering crossbow fire and fanatic resistance. The Vaiam had given ground only when they had no more men to send against their enemy. Thousands had died for a piece of ground no larger than the gardens of his estate back home.

"I have never seen this likeness before..." Kelvors voice was muffled by the scarf he wore across his face to lessen the stench and to keep the flies from his mouth. An enchanted wind blew, meant to push the flies away and keep the smell down, but it was not enough. There were simply to many.

"Nor have I." Valur replied honestly. He saw a flicker of respect in the mages face and ignored it. This carnage was of his own making. He had ordered the attack and the ten thousand dead it had cost him would not care if he was honest. The dead cared nothing for the honesty of the living.

The two elves floated through the first breach and into the second rings of defences. A deep ditch had been dug here, filled with stakes, and flooded by the river that coursed through the city. That river was now choked with the dead, its brown waters turned an almost turbid black by blood and ash from the burning city. The elves had succeeded in filling the moat here which only led to flooding throughout the rest of the area. In the end that had been what undermined the second gatehouse and it had collapsed into the moat, opening a path into the inner city.

More elves and men had died here, an orgy of death and killing as the armies of the Imperium poured through the breaches and into the city. The Vaiam had not gone quietly into the night. They fought for every inch of ground, even the women and children, an expression of violence that the High General had not expected. A child might not kill as well as an adult but a wound was a wound and thousands more would die from their injuries before the day was out.

Here at least were living elves. Exhausted, bloodied, but victorious, they had set about looting the city. Parts of it still burned, but much of it had been thoroughly sacked. Prisoners, they were surprisingly few, were being herded toward gates that had been captured intact, ropes about their necks and shock on their faces. The High General could hardly blame them. The defences of the city were immense and only with the help of the river and several traitors at other gates, had the elves been able to gain access to the city.

"What a beast..." He found himself staring down at a massive creature, its flanks covered in blood, nearly a hundred dead elves around it. It bore a pair of massive horns on its head and from the hundreds of white marks that marred it grey skin, it was almost impervious to the elvish weapons that had hacked desperately at it. "How many more of them are there?"

The two elves floated around a corner and into the cities main square to be greeted by a sight that took his breath away. Nearly twenty of the huge creatures lay scattered about, their massive bulk impossible to miss. What brought a curse from his lips was the number of elven cavalry that had died trying to bring the creatures down. Arrows would not penetrate the hides and in the end it had taken mages and suicidal bravery by the cavalry to bring them down. There was even a giant among the dead, its stomach ripped open by one of the monsters, the huge intestines spilled across the bloodstained mosaic tiles.

"I see now why you have never accepted congratulations on a siege." Kelvor spoke, his eyes taking in the vast destruction all around. At the far end of the square, its gates hanging open and piled high with the dead, the Royal Palace. "There is nothing noble about what happened here."

"No." A short reply that conveyed much. Valur sometimes felt that his superiors, and the nobles of the Imperium, had no real idea of what happened in war. He had no doubt there would be parades back home and songs would be song of this battle for a thousand years, but that was small comfort to the families of the dead and even less to the elves who would be forever broken by their experience here.

"General!" A mage was floating toward them, his face grave. None of the animation and excitement that had been so apparent the day before when the city was finally secured. "News from the south!"

The High General took the proffered letters, there were two, from the mage and cracked the first. It was from General Revalor Elian, the commander whose task it was to conquer Draivim and Keraam. The third General, Hycis, had been sent to work his way east with their new Iban allies. His orders had been to study this ally of connivence and identify any weaknesses that could be used them when the Imperium eventually turned on the Iba.

"General Elian reports that complete subjugation of Draivim. Excellent." Valur felt a small smile in spite of himself. The campaign had got off to a rough start in Beival with an army corps destroyed in the mountains but then again, landing almost a million soldiers was no small feat. The second note was made from excellent rice paper and neatly folded, tied with a red ribbon. There was nothing on it save for his name. A small lump indicated that something was sealed inside. He looked up at the mage. "Who sent this?"

"It came from Keraam by carrier pigeon. I saw your name and did not think to send a reply without your order." The mage look worried for a moment, then relaxed as the High General waved him away irritably.

Valur turned the letter over in his hands. The paper was clearly from Iba, the elves had nothing of the sort in their own stock. He felt the item within and thought he could feel a ring. A ring, why would Hycis send him a ring? He had hardly completed the thought when a horrible premonition swept through him and he tore the letter open, dumping the object into his hand.

It was the ring of an Imperial General. The same one he had personally given to Hycis when his friend was given his first command almost forty years ago.

A fist of cold fury clutched his gut as he read the words, written in a neat looping hand, that crossed the page in red. He had expected many things from the south but nothing like this. It was a poem and the few words, written so beautifully, carried with them a sobering message. He read it out loud.



"So Hycis is dead." The Grand Master stated bluntly.

"Yes. And if he is dead, so is his army." Valur could feel a thrill of horror sweeping through him. His losses here had been severe, but it Hycis was dead and his army destroyed. "By the gods... He led nearly eighty thousand... Eight army corps. Destroyed." He felt as though he were suddenly adrift in a sea of sea of uncertainty.

"Surely they can't have been utterly destroyed!" The Grand Master cried out, surprising even himself.

"They must be, and the fleet that carried them as well." It was impossible to think that the Iba would have not struck at once with everything they had. Valur cursed his arrogance. His belief that the Shogun would allow himself to be tricked so easily. That arrogance had cost the Imperium dearly.

"We must react. Leave what soldiers we must for garrisons and begin marching south at once. We will strike at the Iba next. It was foolish of me to leave them for last." Valur spoke decisively. He had not earned his reputation by sitting around resting on his laurels. With the dead and wounded, not to mention the garrisons he would have to leave behind, he was likely to march on Iba with perhaps 400,000 soldiers. It would be enough. It had to be.

The Imperium had been betrayed and he would march for vengeance.