Seeing the massive military presence around Oceanside had made Iresha extremely nervous. Between the three Magistrates bringing their flagships to bear, surrounded by dozens of smaller ships, and the ominous and massive repurposed colony ship – with the Eye of Kitez emitting that subtle green glow as it waited for an excuse – it looked as though the city was expecting to go to war. When the Sargonian skiff he was on finally landed, and the doors were opened to allow him out, he found his own entourage swiftly taken into custody as if they were criminals.

  Iresha himself wasn’t manhandled quite so stiffly, but those Kitezan soldiers weren’t ready to take attitude from him either. Guns were pointed at him, and he was told – with no uncertain terms – that if his eyes so much as flickered, he’d be taking a concussive round straight to the chest. He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, and held his hands up slightly in a gesture of complacency.sette

  Spotting the Duchess a short distance away from the bottom of the stairwell, the nerves crept all the way up the Prince’s spine all over again, “…Your Grace.”

  “It’s been a long time, Your Majesty.”

  He tilted his head, “…That’s…not my title.”

  “Why don’t you come down from there?” Far’nah cooed, and gestured warmly, “We have so much to catch-up on. I haven’t seen you since…”

  “…Since I was 14.”

  “And you’ve grown into quite the young man.” She countered, “You must be tired from your long journey. There’s a room ready for you.”

  “Why is your entire army in the sky?” The Prince wondered, and gestured up into the night, “And that big ship? That’s the one the Luminaries are all angry about, right?”

  “Your first question is informed by the second.”

  The Kitezan soldiers nudged the Prince forward with rifle-muzzles at his back, and he finally descended. Boots touched to the cobblestone – the ship was far too large to land on just one section of grass, and had laid itself across the entire front half of the courtyard – and the enormity of the situation really became apparent. He watched his three guards shoved away towards the Duchy’s household, “…Why are you being so aggressive with my people? This was an agreed-upon exchange.”

  “We agreed to you.” The smarmy woman answered, “Hostages don’t get a personal guard.”

  “…Hostage!?”

  “What else did you think this was, Your Majesty?” Far’nah quipped, “You weren’t sent here to be married. You have no need for hand-maids to attend to you and remind you of the home you left behind. You are here purely for the sake of a particular kind of diplomacy.”

  Iresha narrowed his eyes slightly, “…Then let me guess, my room is a cell?”

  “Astute. It’s only temporary, though, so worry not.”

  The Prince felt himself getting jostled forward again, and resisted irritably, “My father wouldn’t be treating Duke Mardu like this!”

  The Duchess just glanced tepidly, “Your father won’t be doing a lot of things. Go on then, take him.”

  “…What does that mean?” Iresha growled as the soldiers took his arms. He was surprised by how roughly they moved him then, but he defiantly twisted back anyway, “What does that mean!?”

  .

  The Buckler was still a 20min flight away when Gabriel got the notification from Rylen that the Hadiran Accord was about to go into emergency session. With nothing but open water in every direction, Gabriel gave a needy look to the woman next to him, “Can you take over the controls? Looks like it’s happening right now.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  He lifted up from his seat as Ren took the flight-stick, and moved out of the way as she fluidly hopped over into his spot. With a quick breath to try and calm his nerves, Gabriel made his way to the back of the ship, and – while careful not to run into the intimidating red armor crouched there – turned the skiff’s third seat around, sat, and mentally prepared to give the worst announcement of his life.

  “…And we are joined now by Lord Gabriel Lugios, Eidolon of the Fourth…” Rylen was already saying.

  “Holy fucking Hell they’re throwing me right into the middle of it.” He complained loudly, and cleared his throat before connecting, his overlay giving his eyes a subtle glow as his sights were completely replaced, “…Sorry if I’m delayed? I only just received the notice to join. Where are we with the talk right now?”

  “The Accord would like to know what happened at the palace in Trazad. The part you witnessed.”

  “Oh…” He voiced awkwardly, “…I wasn’t there the whole time. Is the Accord already aware of our losses?”

  “Yes. Hence your introduction being what it was.”

  “…I see.” Gabriel lowered his head; to his sights, the anonymous faces of everyone in that coliseum-shaped hologram were facing him, “…Very well…” He cleared his throat nervously, and recounted the unfortunate tale of what he saw…with asterisks, “I came in as former-Prince Aamin was attacking Dame Ren of the Fafnir. With my affliction, I was able to put an end to him. Both her and Captain Furion Rydell escaped the attack without severe injury. When Dame Ren and I departed to dock with the Buckler, the Sargonians were still putting out the fire. Emperor Iresha…Duke Mardu…everyone in the blast radius… I don’t know if there will be much of them to find.”

  “Duke Mardu was there? Why? And what about Prince Iresha?” The representative from Stonebroken Isles asked, “We know the Sargonian flagship brought him home from Agartha only the day before!”

  Gabriel made a face and spoke quietly to himself, “He told them about Xanarken but not about why there was an explosion?” He shook his head, “Ren, I’m about to say some stuff that can’t leave this space unless or until Rylen mentions it to you.”

  “Roger that.”

  He reconnected, “Let me start over…seems there are some pieces of information that haven’t been disseminated yet. The Fourth had been in talks with Duke Mardu and was aware of his desire to leave Kitez. The Emperor had also been involved, and had subsequently offered to act as a proxy, and was willing to take him in, since the Duke was his distant cousin. On his own accord, and without the involvement of the Council, Emperor Iresha arranged a deal with Duchess Far’nah…Duke Mardu in exchange for the Prince. It wasn’t an ideal situation and the Emperor was not happy about it, but the Prince apparently got ahead of him while observing the meeting and volunteered himself to go. In any case…the exchange began this morning, but when the Kitezan vessel bearing the Duke arrived at Trazad, it exploded, killing both the Duke and the Emperor, who had been there to receive him. The Prince is presumably unharmed and has likely arrived – or is close to arriving – at Oceanside. Our intent must be to get him back.”

  Ren made a face as she glanced around at the back of the seat Gabriel was in, “…They sent the Prince away? What would an exchange like that hope to accomplish?” She whispered to herself, “…And for the Duchess to send a bomb to Trazad, she had to have done that with the full awareness that it would kill both men. Our response is anticipated. She’s walking us nose-first into something big…”

  The Accord was awash with angry murmuring and whispers, but Rylen held his hand up to bring order again.

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  “But what happened to Lord Xanarken?” The representative from Gesh’ko asked, “An Eidolon being killed…! That’s… I don’t even want to say unheard of because it sounds too cliché, for the fact that the Eidolon don’t even have physical bodies present to be attacked.”

  “Something about Aamin’s corruption made it possible for him to reach into an Eidolon’s mantle and damage the user. We saw this once before, but it didn’t leave lasting damage. This time…whatever happened, it created an explosive pillar of light, and when I got my vision back, Xanarken was…gone…” He lowered his head; Ren turned back to look at him worriedly, but stayed quiet.

  “So, you didn’t actually see what happened to him.”

  “It’s a very explicit inference based on ‘he was there before the light shone, and gone after it went out.’ I found out from Lord Rylen himself that Xanarken had passed away.” Gabriel chided, “I take the man at his word.”

  Rylen ‘looked up’ from where his normal-appearing mantle stared at the large anonymous shape that Gabriel had taken in that meeting-space, and sighed quietly to himself, “We’ll go back through the footage later and see if either of the Fafnir didn’t catch something that can help explain what actually happened.” He turned his attention back to the Accord, “All told, Lord Gabriel is correct; we need to get into Kitez to bring Prince Iresha back. He’s the future of Sargon, and when I’m done with the place, Kitez as well.”

  “…You would make the Prince an Emperor of two nations?” Mayrain questioned.

  Rylen simply gestured towards the Fourth, and Gabriel realized he was on the spot to make it make sense, “…The…people of Kitez would respond better to a familiar ruler than to a conqueror.” He said cautiously, “The Council will not be kind of the Duchess when we arrive at Oceanside, but Prince Iresha has been coming of age with us at his side. I know him fairly well. He’s headstrong enough to look like he’s making choices of his own volition, but pliable enough that he would agree with us if put to task. Kitez would know calm and peace far sooner if he were to take the reigns after the defeat we’re about to hand them, than if we were to install a puppet to govern.”

  “So, you don’t intend to apprehend her? This is a premeditated killing?” Chiron’Thule asked stiffly, “Just as she accused the Council of previously. You’re not doing yourself any favors by making her story seem more credible.”

  “Duchess Far’nah must be held accountable for the pain she’s unleashed on Sargon; that, I think we can all agree on. There is no doubt whatsoever that the ship she sent to Trazad was rigged, and detonated only when it arrived at its destination. Prince Aamin was even protected by the blast by something of a sarcophagus, which opened to let him out after, as though she intended for him to survive the conflagration and inflict more pain on whoever arrived to pick up the pieces. Dame Ren and I just went over her footage.” Gabriel explained; one particular thorn in his side – the imagery of Xanarken approaching to take Ren’s helmet off - had to go unmentioned, “How the Duchess chooses to conclude her arc is up to her. We will take her into custody if she surrenders, but if she doesn’t…we will take any necessary measures to end this swiftly.”

  “…That is to say, she will not be Duchess of Kitez by noon tomorrow either way.” Rylen finished, “This assembly was called upon not to ask permission, but to see which of you stands beside us. My fleet is already moving into the country. Oceanside effectively has until sunrise to make peace with its fate. Every city and military installation we pass will be afforded one chance to stand-down. I don’t want to give the Prince a ravaged countryside, but I no longer have patience for this resistance.”

  Murmurs spread throughout the meeting hall.

  Gabriel felt his heart fluttering wildly; nerves, grief, worry, and the fact that Rylen was throwing grenades at him to dodge on the fly, were forcing a cognitive reflexiveness that he wasn’t used to. A grim recollection settled on him, If I hadn’t been trying to get involved at the palace, I would’ve been talking to Rylen about all this before the session started… He really isn’t waiting around for me to be available… I’m not sure if that’s a sign of his trust that I can jump right in, or a dare for me to screw up so he can take it all over… His brow wrinkled slightly, Or maybe this is just how he’s dealing with his own grief over Xanarken…

  “I’m arranging a relief-force to head to Trazad.” Rylen started again, “Lady Etienne of the Fifth will be attending to them herself before following into Kitez. The Escutcheon of the First will be heading that way as well. All nine Sixth Wing SkyFortresses – who, until now, have been maintaining a secure perimeter around Kitez – are moving inward, all on a course towards Oceanside. Moving at different speeds, there will be two primary waves for the frontal-assault, followed by the First and the Fifth’s joint recovery operation. Lord Gabriel is, as he stated, on his way now to the Buckler, and from there will he proceed ahead of the fleet to attempt one last negotiation with the Duchess; total and unconditional surrender, or napalm. The Tuonela is still currently stationed at Oceanside and all 70,000+ passengers will be recovered by tomorrow. If Gesh’ko, Chiron’Thule, and Mayrain want to participate, you may still be able to catch up. The rest of you, we will be glad to accept any assistance in restoration efforts after the invasion is over.”

  “Mayrain stands ready to send a cavalry.” Their representative announced, “We agree with sitting Prince Iresha to lead both countries.”

  “Gesh’ko will also provide offensive capabilities.” That one added, “Lord Xanarken was a friend to us. We will not allow his killing go unpunished.”

  “…Chiron’Thule will offer recovery aid, but we will not participate in a violent coup.”

  “Very well.” Rylen acknowledged, “Under the authority vested to me as the Eidolon of the First and Sixth Wings of the Luminary Council, I, Rylen Vor’antiss, hereby disable the World Cloud border-barrier protocol with Colony-territory: Kitez. …And with that done, we are concluded for now. I need to go speak with my Captains.”

  The First vanished from the meeting-space, and Gabriel quickly left as well, heaving a tense breath as his vision finally clarified back to the imagery of Maeve’s interior. He could only stare forward blankly for a moment, and cast his eyes towards Ren’s armor again as the weight of it settled on his shoulders. He made his way to the front again and took Ren’s former seat, “…He just let the Cloud into Kitez. And I think I’m going straight into a meeting once we get to the ship. I was just volunteered to go ahead of the fleet for one last performance.”

  “…Alone? As your normal, fleshy, and quite-killable self?” Ren surmised warily, “You’re kidding.”

  “Well, Arbelos said two weeks when he scanned me, so…I don’t know that I have any other options. If I’m going into Kitez as I am, then I’m not diverting to Agartha to get my mantle.”

  “Do you want controls back?”

  Gabriel hugged his arms around himself and set a finger over his lips contemplatively, “…Nah.”

  “You better not be thinking of your last words right now.”

  “I’m not, I’m not…” He waved his other hand dismissively, “I’m just thinking…if I’m going to be leading this charge, then I would be-”

  “A sitting duck.”

  “…And also potentially in a position to find the kid. Far’nah could end up using him as a meat-shield to protect herself.” He suggested, “That might be the whole reason she asked for him, unlikely as it was that she’d have gotten the Emperor to agree. Although…having Aamin could have tipped the scales. Iresha might’ve been forced to agree either way.”

  “I really don’t like this plan.” Ren commented, “You’ve just been given the Fourth Wing because Lord Xanarken got zapped, and now Lord Rylen’s sending you ahead? There must be something else.”

  “I’m thinking there probably is…but we need to get to the Buckler first to find out.”

  “Well, it’s right there, so…hopefully we find out soon.” She nudged her head towards the blip of light ahead of them in the sky, barely visible against the arrival of the stars, “That’s the ship Ravan’s been stationed at. I’ll hang out with her while you’re dealing with the Captains’ meeting.”

  “Didn’t you say you broke up with her? Wouldn’t she be upset to see you…?”

  “Huh?” Ren glanced over, “Oh, no…our relationship was never one of emotional attachment. We’re still friends…there were just perks for a while. All I did was say we shouldn’t do that part anymore. She actually teased the idea of bringing you into things a couple times.”

  Gabriel just covered his face with both hands, “…Man…"

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing…you know, I’m just a guy who spent most of my life terrified of the Fafnir, and now I’m not only involved with one, but another apparently recommended a threesome.” He shook his head and clasped the flats of his palms together, “I am conflicted.”

  Ren puffed a laugh; the Buckler was starting to loom as they neared, “Would you have, though?”

  Eyes narrowed slightly as he considered, but then answered the question with one of his own, “…Am I a man or a joke?”

  “Gods, she would absolutely go wild if she knew. Furion would never…”

  “Don’t go revealing all my dirty laundry to her so quick.” Gabriel resumed his crossed-arm disposition, “That answer was only valid until around an hour ago. I’m too wrapped-up in my head to consider much more than us right now.”

  “That’s fair.”

  The Buckler’s hangar was already open, and Ren piloted the little red skiff to land. It was no surprise at all to see Rylen there waiting for them, with the armored visage of the ship’s solitary Fafnir beside. Maeve came to rest, and the circular platform it rested on started to rotate to face the back of the vessel towards the waiting entourage.

  Gabriel stood by the rear exit, a hand out to open the door, but hesitated. Ren came around as well, but since she didn’t immediately get into her armor, it was clear they both had the same thing on their minds. They each turned toward one another and stepped close, his arms over her shoulders as hers went around his sides.

  “I’m sure it’ll be over soon.” The Fourth offered, “I’ll reach out when we’re done.”

  “Alright.” Ren answered, and pulled back from the man’s chest to find an expected kiss. She reactivated the black coloration to her hair as she moved to reequip her armor, and once she was ready, the larger of Maeve’s two exits slid up and open, and they stepped out into the hangar.