The carriage, an ornate affair of polished brass and fine ash wood stained a deep red, stopped outside the manor's gates. This part of the Imperial City was lightly populated. Its grounds bordered the Imperial Palace and only the wealthy maintained homes here. This street ran for miles but only serviced a dozen or so domiciles. The carriage was characteristic of the area in appearance.
It, like its contents, were far more than they seemed.
Iselsi Navia stepped out of the Bureau carriage. Dimensionally transcendent, it could carry a great deal more than it should. At the moment, though, she only had one companion. The Chosen of Secrets looked back into the carriage's interior and waited.
At last, Dallen Andair climbed out after her. He looked quite handsome in the Dynastic fashion. Naturally, his skin was too dark, too tanned, to pass for Realm-born. Nonetheless, his youthful features carried an air of dignity and maturity. His ruffled shirt and breeches fit him as perfectly as the short waistcoat. Navia couldn't help but compare him to Runic Isolation, E'lial's protégé.
Of the two, she felt the man in front of her was superior. At least, he would be. He needed convincing first.
"Where are we, Sifu?" he asked coldly.
Navia stared at the taller man with somber eyes. Dallen had been a Chosen of Battles less than a year and her student for only a few months. In that time, his hatred for her had concentrated, distilled itself into a core of black passion, cleverly concealed with indifference and topped by anger. She knew this and let it be, knowing that a simple prayer strip from her belt could change that hate to love. Hate was better for now. It made him strong.
Now she had to make him wise.
"Home," Navia said. She turned from the carriage and walked. The slight delay in his answering footsteps suggested the revelation had surprised him.
It was spring on the Blessed Isle and Meru's remnant looked more glorious than anything in Creation right now. Trees gave forth leaves, birds called out in song, and the fine mansions of the Houses looked regal, impressive, yet accommodating of the returned forces of life. Navia deeply inhaled the fresh air, still clean in this lightly populated part of the Imperial City.
It wasn't Heaven. But it was home.
The walk past the gates took them by rows of perfectly maintained bushes and shrubs, past an immaculate lawn with its share of statues. The enclosed round sat idly empty, as usual, but its construction still looked fresh, ready to offer privacy for those strolling the grounds. As for the mansion, it looked unchanged. Built of stone almost a century and a half ago, the now-ancestral home of the Da'nashay family had hardly existed long enough to pick up more than a chip in the masonry.
"You live here, Sifu?" Dallen asked quietly.
Navia smiled to herself. "When I have the time."
"How often is that?"
"Let's see...I spend the second week of every year, if I can manage it, once the disasters from Calibration are cleaned up. Sometimes I can make it for a summer party."
Dallen said nothing else as they walked but Navia felt satisfied that she had made the right choice in bringing him here. The silence was welcome. She did not speak much by nature and this was the first time she had company with her...ever.
The path gave way to the immediate stone avenue in front of the mansion, large enough for visiting Dynasts to depart their carriages. Navia remembered every one of the 97 parties she and her husband had held here since the mansion's construction. The memory of times past mixed with the predictive threads of events to come. She saw herself arm-in-arm with Da'nashay 42 years ago...and she marked a place they would kiss in 3 years.
Navia walked to the double doors and went through when they opened for her. Dallen's step faltered again. Heaven was still new to him and the easy enchantments of the Realm evidently were too. Of course, Easthaven was hardly a nation for decorative magic. Dallen had been forged of fire, in war, and he was eminently a Chosen of Battles by Destiny and nature. He probably thought this was a waste of resources.
"You may leave your coat here, apprentice," she said, gesturing to the Small God who waited. The Forbidding Manse of Ivy paid this servant for its discreet services and it served in Creation well enough, despite its Celestial nature. Heaven was not what it had been and many looked for work. She did not know this one's name nor did she need to. It was enough that it obeyed and did not speak of Heaven's affairs with her family.
The Chosen of Secrets walked her home and knew where her husband was. Trailed by her Chosen of Battles protégé, Navia moved without hurry up the expansive stairwell to the third floor. She found Da'nashay in his small study, one of the three or four rooms he favored during the short times he managed to be home. The place looked much more settled now, owing to the recall of his Legion eight months ago.
"Good morning, my husband," Navia said as she opened the door. The Dragon-Blooded soldier sat just so in his chair, his shirt neatly pressed, his pants without wrinkle. All the papers on his desk were just as well-arranged and it looked like he'd been reading a great deal, given the number of books set aside in a stack for reshuffling.
Her husband was a handsome man, in a worn, rough, craggy sort of way. His jaw was solid and square, his shiny black hair smoothed down the back of his neck, and the stubble on his face almost looked decoratively intentional. His skin was most unusually colored, in shades of red and purple like a sunset...or a distant flame.
And his eyes were the most beautiful emerald green she'd ever seen.
"Navia," he said warmly. That face's inflexibility relaxed as Da'nashay smiled at her. "Welcome home. I didn't expect to see you until next year. Not that I'm complaining." Navia felt the light of his love for her, a pure innocent flame. She'd kindled it from a prayer strip 150 years ago but it had long since surpassed that Charm. She closed her eyes and bowed her head to her husband, humbled and awed every time by the incredible regard he had for her. She knew it for the priceless treasure it was and it had been given to her alone.
Just as only Da'nashay had her heart. That her love was equally supernatural in origin, that she knew and had done this, did not change the deep contentment that came from a century and a half of marriage. All told, they had spent just under a year of total time in each other's company. Navia knew she could measure out exactly how many seconds had passed with him, for she had altered her perception of time on each visit, living a year in a day. It was a lie but one she knew and lived with.
If Da'nashay and she never parted again, if he lived as long as she did, it would still not be enough time with him.
"An opportunity arose to come home," Navia said, trusting her husband's discretion. "I heard of your Legion's recall. How do matters stand?"
"Poorly," he said. A hint of a smile remained but Da'nashay was all business when it came to soldiering. "They don't trust me. Of course they don't, why should they? I answer to no House and hold my rank by the graces of my mother. They can't just execute me, of course, and their attempt to kill my Legion failed too. Final Starry Night no longer leads Xi'ar'na, did you know? Without that Anathema's sorcerous might, his army was easy enough to rout. Well trained, well supplied, but they lacked experience." His beautiful green eyes glanced past her shoulder and widened. "Ah, forgive my manners. You didn't tell me you had company."
"My husband, this is my apprentice, Dallen Andair," Navia said smoothly, gliding through the doorway to clear room for both men. "Dallen, this is General Da'nashay."
"General Da'nashay!" Dallen said. Navia watched him curb his enthusiasm with admirable restraint. "I grew up reading your books on military strategy, Sir. Even in Easthaven we've heard of you and how you threw down the Kirigast Invasion, how your armies defeated the Thri-Kahn's forces." The Chosen of Battles stood at attention, grave and respectful as any soldier. "Is it true, what they say about the Faerie Incursion of Rathess?"
"True enough," Da'nashay said, chuckling with amusement. "My Legion lived and they didn't. Ilis Farning was kept from direct attack, its people unharmed. What more can you ask for?" He shook Dallen's hand with an easy strength, with the bearing of a man long used to veneration and respect.
"You're a legend, Sir." Dallen's eyes held Da'nashay's...then shifted back to her. His expression turned incredulous, disbelieving. "I can't believe you're married to General Da'nashay, Sifu."
"For 166 years," Navia said.
Dallen's face told her everything. He sheltered his hate behind his mask of indifference...but, like it or not, he'd been forced to reassess her. "I thought you said..."
"Later, apprentice," she answered, cutting him off before he said something unfortunate. "Now please step outside. My daughter is at the front door. I would like her sent up here, please."
Dallen's face hardened at the reminder of his subservient status. "Yes, Sifu." She watched him go, pleased he had learned so much in so short a time. Epiphany had been a far more rebellious Ronin...but then again, she'd been committed to a cause she could not carry out in Heaven. Dallen's purpose was before him always. It gave him the patience to be polite.
Once the Chosen of Battles was out of sight, Navia closed the study's doors and settled into her husband's lap. Da'nashay sighed, a deep bass rumble that warmed her. She embraced him, arms around his neck, and rested her head on top of his head.
"I missed you," he said, sliding his arms around her waist, sheltering her in his strength.
"I missed you too," she said. They remained like that for a time. His hair smelled of spice and man. Navia breathed his fragrance and allowed herself three tears for what needed to come next.
The four of them ate dinner that night in the ballroom. It was a formal affair, as family dinners had always been, but with little ceremony. Despite the oversized oak table, large enough to seat fifty, they only took up the end of it. Da'nashay sat at the head of the table, with his wife on the left and his daughter on the right. Dallen sat next to Navia and did his best not to look like an idiot.
He shouldn't feel intimidated but easier said than done. He sat at a table with Da'nasahy, General of the Crimson Legion. Da'nashay, the Flame of the South, the Banner of the Realm. His daughter, Colonel Da'nashay Rhiann, was only marginally less famous. She'd started at the bottom of the Legions and won her way upwards through sheer brilliance. The willowy red headed Fire-Aspect looked exactly like her mother, only taller and with blue eyes. Where Navia radiated a cool serenity, though, Rhiann seemed to burn with a smoldering readiness.
Dallen sat with legends...and his Sifu. They all had Dynastic training and followed the several courses with practiced grace, using this implement in this order, taking only so many bites and so on. The Chosen of Battles felt relieved that all the book-learning Navia had crammed into his head paid its way now. At least he knew what to do. Doing it and looking good...that was harder.
Not that he had anything to prove to the Ice Queen. But General Da'nashay...that's another matter.
"Tell me, Dallen," General Da'nashay said, rumbling as he cleared his throat. "How long have you and my wife worked together?"
"A few months, Sir," he said politely.
"Ah. How do you like the job?"
"I don't, Sir." Dallen flashed the General a smile. Just because he respected her husband didn't mean he would lie for the woman who'd stolen him away from his life. Da'nashay chuckled and his skin glinted with the light of a cheery fire.
"I respect honesty. If it makes you feel better, she doesn't either." The elder Dragon-Blooded grinned at Dallen's unconcealed surprise. Navia, for her part, said nothing but took slow, methodical bites of her food. His reserved Sidereal Sifu looked like she enjoyed the meal.
"Thank you, Sir," Dallen said at last, not knowing what else to say.
"You've served," Colonel Da'nashay Rhiann said quietly. Dallen looked at the face of a woman who so resembled his enemy. He couldn't quite bring himself to hate her for it, though. She wasn't her mother. Besides, she wore the Realm uniform like she'd been bred for it and her air of command reminded him more of Rhiann's father.
"Yes, ma'am. I was an Outrider of Easthaven."
"Cavalry then," Rhiann said, smiling a little. "Well, that's fair. I've heard good things about your horses and equipment. Good things about your soldiers, too. We could have used men of your quality in Rathess."
"Thank you, ma'am," Dallen said, nodding respectfully.
"What brings you to...?" Colonel Da'nashay Rhiann stopped as quickly as she started at the look from both of her parents. "I apologize."
Dinner proceeded at a leisurely rate. Dallen managed some small talk but mostly held back, listening to the family talk. It became painfully obvious in short order that they didn't spend much time around each other. They had much to talk about but did so slowly, always at a distance and with a faint air of disconnection. Navia's reserve was expected but surprisingly Rhiann seemed equally inhibited in talking to either parent...perhaps because she rarely saw her mother, perhaps because most of the time her father was in the chain of command.
They were gracious hosts who strived to include him. Da'nashay proved every bit as impressive as the tales made him out to be. And yet, by the end of the evening, Dallen realized he felt profoundly sorry for the whole family. For the husband and father who had a wife and daughter so involved in separate lives. For the daughter who mastered her career but hardly knew how to relate to her parents. ...and even a small amount for the Sidereal so divorced from their lives .
Then Dallen realized what she'd tried to do.
Anger and rage rose at once, drowning his pity. By the end of dessert, he'd mastered himself. Dallen kept his smile on with the iron-like restraint of a true sniper. He had once lain prone, not moving whatsoever, for two days in order to get the necessary killing shot on a Faerie. The slightest movement would have betrayed him to their supernaturally sensitive ears...but he hadn't. Nor would he break cover now. Not until he'd learned everything he could from his captor.
"Thank you for dinner, husband," Navia said, smiling sweetly at General Da'nashay. It seemed a real smile but for Dallen's knowledge of who she was...what she was. In a flash like light, he remembered Navia giving him the same smile...with her hand locked around Velessa's throat.
Lieutenant Velessa Falling-Light...the woman he loved. She was his superior officer but the last year had made it seem irrelevant. In battle, he followed her orders without question...and at night, they came together in a way that could bring tears to his eyes if he let it. He would have proposed in another year, once his salary accrued enough for a good ring and home. They would have settled, maybe raised some kids...or maybe they'd stay on in the Outriders.
But that dream had shattered beneath the cruel hands of Iselsi Navia. He remembered her sweet smirk as Velessa hung helpless, struggling to breathe with the hand on her throat, sobbing with the pain of a broken shoulder and disjointed arm. His love, his bride-to-be...almost killed by a woman who didn't know the meaning of the word 'mercy'.
Only one thing had saved Lieutenant Velessa Falling-Light. Dallen's oath, sworn on the name of the Bureau of Destiny, still burned fitfully in his heart. He couldn't escape the sensation nor he could he escape the reminder that his life no longer belonged to him. Instead, it belonged to Navia. Her.
His Sifu.