Chapter 1

Resplendent Air Five – RY 765

The spring sunshine was bright, and warmed armor plate, but it was not yet strong enough to completely banish early morning's mild chill. A cutting breeze whipped in from shore, rustling up the life of bustling streets. Though mere minutes past dawn the city was already hurried and busy. A mad stream of commerce moving in every direction: poured down packed roads; over narrow bridges; and jumped up from the maze of canals below.

In many places the combination of rickshaws, carts, animals, and people meant a careful dance of motion and deference was necessary to pass through, especially on the wood and stone spans traversing broad canals. Too polite to push and shove, the public moved through a complex ritual of bows, admonishments, and unspoken probes of family status to determine the order of passage.

Only two entities bypassed this practice; the way opening well in advance of their motions: elephants; and dragon-blooded. On this morning Ragara Zuven was glad to be registered among the latter. Otherwise he would have been in for a long wait, for in the choreography of status as practiced by the Tengese foreigners ranked near the bottom, barely above the scorned dispossessed.

Rather than being forced to throw sharp elbows to take even one step over a bridge, the mass of humans and livestock parted at one sight of emerald eyes and wood-grain lined face. Zuven kept his hands near the hilts of his daiklaves all the same. His armor and weapons marked him out as a soldier, and there had been incidents recently. Though he knew he had no fear for assault, he would not have put it past a desperate youth to try and secure his fortune by snatching one of the jade blades.

He found the walk unpleasant. Cities remained foreign creatures to his senses. The rules of life were different here from those ingrained upon his muscles and bones; a game he did not know.

Now, he stepped into the center of it; the heart of the city, the royal district. A massive square surrounding the three-winged Palace of the Threefold Magnificence; it was actually considerably more open and accessible than the teaming merchant quarters that encompassed it. Business here moved in small clusters, nobles surrounded by a bevy of guards, each entourage a single unit, moving with swift deliberation. Common people did not tread upon these cobbles, steely gazes backed by hard iron kept even the curious and youthful away.

Gilded and polished, the grand palace gleamed in the morning sun, a shining beacon bearing symbols that subtly honored the ruling princes and their divine patron the Golden Lord. Even Zuven's eyes could spot the game being played out on those facades, skirting the edges of Immaculate objection. He found such understated artistic ploys irritating at best. It seemed such an exhausting conflict, and pointless.

Thankfully he had no need to brave the ostentatious and overly courteous halls of the palace. Business summoned him to a much more modest dwelling, in appearance at least. An elegant villa by any standard, though conspicuous by the absence of conformity with local style, it lay opposite the palace on the other side of the square. Stemming close to it, Zuven's skin prickled at the energy flowing out from the very stones.

The princes rule An-Teng, but the satrap rules the princes. So the garrison soldiers were wont to snicker behind the backs of the local people. Zuven was not so sure – the grand palace hardly resembled the residence of those who bowed down easily. He avoided voicing such concerns. Possessing ignorance of politics was a lesser sin compared to betraying the same among the dragon-blooded. Scars etched into his memory recalled that teaching.

It was with no small measure of trepidation that Zuven announced his presence to the guards and displayed the letter calling him to meet with the satrap. He'd never been inside this residence before, and until yesterday he'd been quite certain that aspect of his existence would remain true for years yet. Instead, in pursuit of a purpose he could not fathom, he had been called to meet with the highest authority in An-Teng. His stomach fluttered and he forcibly kept his eyes focused arrow-straight ahead.

The servant who guided Zuven through the elegantly decorated halls was not Tengese. Instead he bore the somewhat lighter and softer features of the Blessed Isle's southern coast. He, and the other staff, wore appropriate livery designating their affiliation with the Realm, but also a crest of pale ice crystal on a white and black field that Zuven supposed must be the satrap's personal sigil. Whether such private marks were allowed or legal bore down as a weight upon his mind, but he simply could not have said whether this was so. Regardless, it was not his place to raise an objection.

Many distractions lodged on tables and walls in those halls. Art, jewelry, rich food, and all the ostentation of incredible wealth clamoring to be noticed from every direction. Zuven had seen such things before on only a handful of occasions. He had to clamp his jaw shut and clench his neck to keep from ogling the riches.

Thankfully for the preservation of his reasoning ability the guide led him not to the satrap's main audience chamber but to a small, private dining room. There, at a table suitable for no more than six, he found the satrap. Seated, he was making his breakfast from a feast fit for kings.

After Zuven was ushered in the staff left quietly, leaving him alone with the satrap and a single serving-maid – one doubtless a lifelong slave trusted to be completely discrete.

His nerves tightened a notch further, heavy with knotted tension. Ragara Soras Jor1, Satrap of An-Teng for the Scarlet Empress, was a tall man with a sharp, forceful presence and an imperious face split by a strong nose. His mouth was hard and his black hair cut short, projecting concern for business alone. This contrasted only slightly with the fortune in gold and gems embroidered into his robes.

Jor looked up from his meal slowly and then very deliberately put down his utensils. He stared at the new arrival with an intensity of discerning assessment Zuven found oddly commendable.

"Ah," Jor began. "Ragara Zuven. You are somewhat earlier than expected, but that is just as well." His voice was highly cultured and carefully controlled. High Realm, all complex and fluid syllables, rolled off his tongue in the manner only a dynast born to it could conduct. "I would prefer to handle this swiftly."

"My lord," Zuven bowed his head deeply, with due deference to the satrap's rank and his senior position in their shared great house.

Jor made no move to stand, nor did he offer to have Zuven be seated, but this was expected. Thankfully, the younger dragon-blooded had eaten earlier, otherwise the temptation of the feast before him would have proven difficult to overcome. Standing, truthfully, was easier.

"I understand you hold the rank of Talonlord in the Twenty-First Legion," The satrap's phrasing suggested such a position with of minimal account at best. "And that the legion was sponsored by House Peleps to undertake an expedition to reduce piracy in the Blue Islands2."

"Yes lord," Keeping his responses short served to avoid miss-communication and helped to hide Zuven's limited mastery of proper High Realm pronunciation.

"As you are no doubt aware, that expedition was indefinitely postponed due to the current crisis," Jor avoided mentioning it, but even a street urchin could have divined his meaning. The disappearance of the Empress, now some three months official3, was surely the greatest crisis in a century, perhaps since the Great Contagion itself.

"Yes lord," It was impossible for Zuven to completely conceal his glum disappointment at this. The Lintha pirates were already far too bold, and the lack of punishment would surely only worsen the problem. He had been eager to test his blades against them. Loitering in the City of the Steel Lotus was quickly chaffing.

"Word has come from the Deliberative," Jor continued, glossing over the true import of the crisis with what was clearly a great deal of necessary practice. "They have finally determined to officially cancel the expedition."

"Are we to return home?" The words escaped in eagerness from Zuven's mouth. Silently he cursed his idiocy for interrupting. He dropped his eyes to the floor, doing his best to show regret while remaining at attention.

A silent scowl split the satrap's face, but he made no audible mention of this breach of protocol. "The Deliberative has not chosen to recall your Fang. Instead, they have dissolved your command to local authorities."

Something clicked over in Zuven's understanding. The local commander of the garrison was general Shuri the Scarlet of the Nineteenth Legion4, not the Satrap. He was being grabbed by the silken chord of politics, and without any idea to flee or means to dodge.

"There is always a need for the services of additional dynasts in the Threshold, and An-Teng is no exception," Jor continued levelly. "General Shuri has agreed to detach you to a duty that falls under the aegis of my office, rather than that of the Legions proper."

Dynastic politics was an alien field to Zuven, but he knew both that he was his unit's most junior officer and it's only Ragara member. Certainly both facts had influence over this meeting. Resisting the urge to clench a fist, he simply listened. Jor might be political, but he appeared dedicated to his work. However irregular the mission, it was certainly important.

"Tell me," the satrap surprised the young dragon-blood with a direct question. "Do you know of Sesus Bian?"

Swallowing to buy a second to think, Zuven answered honestly. "No, lord." It was a worried admission. His abrupt education had left many holes, and he could name only the most famous members of the dragon-blooded host.

"Hardly surprising," If Jor felt any disappointment he hid it completely. "She is a member of the Bureau of Discerning Essence Managers5 and a scholar of modest renown. At the present she is recently arrived here in An-Teng with plans to launch an exploratory mission across the southern border."

So far as Zuven knew, and he reckoned his grasp of local geography good, there was nothing much but jungle south of An-Teng.

"Though I have counseled against this undertaking at this particular time, she has insisted on going forward," the satrap's face hardened with the displeasure of a man used to seeing his will taken as law. "And as the mission is small in scope it seems the Thousand Scales feels halting her not worthy of their attention."

Jor looked up a Zuven, fixating him with midnight blue eyes. "I am assigning you to her expedition as an escort. I have already drawn up the directive."

"Of course lord," Any objection would be pointless. "But, what is the purpose of this mission?" He could see no reason to march into the jungle.

"Sesus Bian apparently has some design to study the local people," the satrap's voice clearly conveyed his dismissal of this goal as ridiculous. "However, the bureau she reports to is searching for unclaimed manses and any artifacts of the previous age they may contain. Her record suggests a certain competence to the recovery of both."

This made sense to the soldier's mind. The realm always needed more such resources.

Carefully Jor put his hands on the table, palms down. "Now then, I hope you understand that House Ragara, and myself, must not remain uninformed regarding any such discoveries dredged up from the jungle, nor can Houses Sesus be allowed to reap solely the accolades of a successful endeavor. You are to keep the lady scholar safe, but also to keep your eyes open. Am I understood?"

"Of course lord," Zuven answered without hesitation, though the words tasted like bile. House Ragara did nothing for free. His adoption held just as many strings as any other business deal, and of jade rather than silver. "I am always mindful of my duties to family."

"Excellent," the slightest ghost of a smile broke across Jor's face. "I believe you may have a promising future, Talonlord."

Fighting the churning flips of his stomach, Zuven could only bow.

Chapter 1 Notes

1. Ragara Soras Jor is a canonical character described in Compass of Terrestrial Directions: The South. His appearance, abilities, and personality, are modeled on the canon description.

2. The Blue Islands is a reference to the island chain located to the west of Bluehaven. As far as I can determine it has no official canon name so I have utilized this not particularly creative appellation instead.

3. This story is set in early RY 765, and is interpreted as being several months after the Council of the Empty Throne. Though the Empress has been gone for over a year this has only recently been made public.

4. I don't actually know which half-legion is assigned to An-Teng, but I don't believe this number is taken.

5. I have invented this Realm ministry. Its responsibility is geomancy in the Threshold.