A/N: First off. I was incorrectly calling Louise's manticore Alistair last chapter. Alistair is the name I use for Karin's manticore in another fic, hence my flub. I have changed the name back and used Alexis throughout this chapter. Thanks to Meneldur for pointing this out.
Speaking of thanks: Thank you Meneldur, Sceptic, and No One for your proofreading. As rusty as I am it is very much appreciated. Also thanks to everyone who commented! They really give me motivation to keep going. I'll try to have the next chapter out in a week, but I am having some family visit soon, so there might be a slight delay.
Records of Change
Chapter 10
Twelfth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Admittedly, I was sad to see Tabitha and Kirche leave this morning. My current reservations involving Kirche's father do not diminish the affection I hold for the pair. However, I am not so selfish as to begrudge the two a visit to Tabitha's family, nor am I so devoid of grace as to inquire into the nature of the visit. One can only assume the kind of delicate family situation a bastard such as Tabitha would have. Due to her schooling and excellence with magic I very much doubt she has been excommunicated, but... Bah, I really shouldn't be stewing on Tabitha's family life. Tis ignoble of me to gossip even with myself.
A messenger hawk arrived from Duke Zerbst not long after his daughter left; its message detailed the expected shipment dates of Zerbst iron. Annoying as the thought of the man is, I still signed and accepted the schedule without delay. Based on the projected dates I should never dip too low in iron even accounting for possible delays. In fact... Oh Brimir, for Duke Zerbst to have such an accurate schedule he must have sniffed out far more information from me than I realized in our initial negotiations. To be played so thoroughly! I feel once more like a naïve babe. That cad!
Well, I must remember to breathe. At the very least I can take a lesson both in trade and diplomacy. As much as Duke Zerbst vexes me; I must admit for how thoroughly he played me he was rather reserved in what he took. Where he could have crippled me, he simply slapped me with enough force to make the lesson stick. Ahah! That is why I am so bothered! The man did not treat me as an equal, but as a child to teach a lesson to! A pox upon him! Twenty poxes upon him!
Bah, I will eject that man from my thoughts for no more good can come from such a demon.
As for the rest of my day? Surprisingly I had somewhat of a lull in responsibilities as cannon production and fleet armament are finally scheduled and fully staffed. Of course there is more to do in the future, there always seems to be; however, for at least today I was able to relax. Travel aboard an airship is easier than most alternatives, but draining all the same. So the rest is most welcome.
I enjoyed tea in my gardens with Siesta. Tis only out of the sight of all others does the girl allow herself to speak with some familiarity. A simple chat, but enjoyable all the same. Her perspective on our visit Zerbst estate is most interesting. She remarked that the servants of the Zerbst were quite friendly with her in the few moments she was away from me. No doubt trying to pry out any information she may have overheard me discus or disclose to her. Interesting... I shall have to make use of such a tactic in the future. Though I do not doubt Siesta's insistence that she spoke of nothing involving my business. Between her loyalty. shy nature, and limited time away from my side, I doubt even a servant as crafty as Duke Zerbst himself could have drawn more than a word or two from Siesta.
After tea I spent some time training Alexis. This turned out to be more of an issue than I originally thought. Alexis is almost too friendly. The beast has a good heart, but is so interested in pleasing that it can conflict with more complex commands. I also lack the ability to fly with Alexis; an action normally used to bond with a manticore. In truth I am simply not up to the very physical task of raising a manticore properly. After review, I have sent a letter to Pierre Bellamy, the vice captain of the Manticore Knights, requesting his advice on hiring a professional manticore trainer. I met the man back at my first wedding, and I am sure anyone he recommends will be up to the task. Now, before you complain future scribe, I am well aware that my mother would surely know of an acceptable candidate. My reasoning for not asking her is twofold. One, obviously she is a busy woman during these trying times. Secondly, and more importantly, I can't forever rely on my parents' contacts. One must make their own friends and allies if they plan to survive in the world of nobles.
As for my afternoon? Well I did manage to corner Jean for a game of chess. I am rather sore to admit he defeated me most soundly. I should have known a mind as logical as his was more than a match for my own. Ever the gentleman, he allowed me to challenge him a few more times before I realized he was beginning to go easy on me. At some point the games shifted from competition to instruction, but the time was well spent. Never before have I truly enjoyed chess, but with Jean it seems to act as mental stimulus. It serves as a nice diversion as we converse.
Finally, even on my rest day I made sure to make my nightly walk to the grave on the hill. Tis always a trying and somber journey, but it ever steels my resolve for the coming days. One look at that grave and I understand the gravity of each decision I make. With the blockade and conflict to come that resolve will be needed. I just hope I can make the right choices when the time comes.
Thirteenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
I had made mental notes throughout the day on what to write in my nightly entry. However, the boring knowledge of sending out for different staff hiring's and expanding my house guard all flies in the face of the grand event that happened.
You see, my child, today I felt you kick.
Well, not unaided mind you. To explain; I am obviously ignorant of the specifics of pregnancy. I know that I am supposed to feel you kick at some point, but I had yet to feel you move at all. I explained my unease to Blanche; an emotionally poor choice as the woman has the empathy of a particularly unfeeling rock. However, her calm, rational explanation still calmed my nerves. To her knowledge, I shouldn't be feeling you kick for at least another month at the very earliest.
Still, perhaps Blanche does have some kindness to her, as she offered to cast "Sense Enhancement" on me after I expressed continuing unease with what issues my ailing body might produce. "Sense Enhancement" may not require much willpower, but it does require prodigiously finite control. I am once again reminded I have a square class water mage on retainer. Blanche handled the process with the dull professionalism she always does with barely a remark for how difficult such a spell should be.
For a moment I thought nothing was happening. Then I felt it, the warmth on my belly. Rather, I could distinctly make out my own body warmth. Strange as it is to say, I became aware of each individual hair on my belly. Even the blood coursing through my veins left a faint tremble. Yet all of that information faded away into the ether when I felt you shift. A faint thing, but there all the same. There was relief, knowing I hadn't failed as a mother. Knowing my decision hadn't been made in vain.
Even the implacable Blanche forgave my selfish request for her to maintain the spell for some time. I am not ashamed to admit I wept. Tears of love rather than of sadness.
My child, I think you may be a gentle soul. Your soft movements fill me with warmth, and Blanch says I have been spared some of the more bothersome pregnancy ailments. I have no real morning sickness to speak of, and you are not yet large enough that my movement is impeded. My breasts are growing and often sore, but that is not entirely unwelcome. Hopefully soon Kirche will lack that particular avenue for teasing. Truly, my only true annoyance is increased number of trips to the privy.
For the record, my earlier tears are not the increased emotional intensity a pregnant woman exhibits. Blanche can keep her wild accusations to herself.
Fourteenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
With my parents soon to visit I needed a distraction. Today, that distraction came in the form of magic experimentation. To my good fortune Jean finally allowed himself a break from working on the school and sending out letters of invitation to colleagues. As such, my friend spent the day alternating between being a teasing bother and an insightful mind to bounce ideas off of. Luckily he spent more time as the latter; if only because I quickly learned not to lament about my parents' visit in front of him.
Holding two light orbs has become second nature to me. More than that will start to drain willpower faster than I replenish it however. I am sure with increased practice I can decrease the willpower necessary to contain the light. If nothing else, it will be a good exercise to increase my control. Beyond that, if I actively maintain focus I can keep five light orbs running, seven if I focus only on the orbs and nothing else.
Jean has compared my use of my light orbs as willpower storage to how an earth mage stores their willpower in a particular patch of land or golem. Though earth mages are the only mages that must have natural material present to work their craft, such techniques more than compensate for such a weakness.
With some advice from Jean I was able to adjust the color of the light orbs. In their natural state they are a very pure white light. However, it seems if I place a mental filter to remove all but one color I can shift the color of the light to whatever I desire. At first I thought it an odd, roundabout way to adjust the spell; but Jean is a fire mage and therefore a bit of a specialist on light in general. So, after stubbornly trying and failing other techniques, I did relent and take the man's advice. Indeed, no sooner had I visualized a filter than did the orb change to whatever color I preferred.
Tis odd actually; my magic exhibits properties of both fire and earth magic. True, it is only on a surface level; but perhaps I should delve into techniques of air and water mages to see if there is anything to be gleaned.
Hopefully either the school of air or water will hold a technique to cross my next hurdle, for Jean and I became rather stumped when I attempted to adjust the shape of my light orbs. No matter how I shifted my willpower or twisted control based incantations, I cannot get my orbs to do more than temporarily warp.
Another issue that has arisen with my light orbs is that with two active at the same time I am noticing a lack of distinct control unless I concentrate. As soon as I tether them off in the back of my mind the orbs begin to drift. At their most basic level they are concentrations of raw willpower. So, even stored in the form of light I cannot just keep them within my body, my natural willpower repulses them. While trailing globes of light has a certain mystifying affect, I don't really need any more help standing out. With my dark clothing, veil, cane, and clashing pink hair, I am already a bit of a spectacle.
Instead, Colbert suggested drained windstones; I have them in bountiful supply and they are known for being particularly conductive to magic. Indeed, upon testing I found that a drained windstone has an almost magnetic affect upon my light orbs. Minor, and in no way a true storage container for raw willpower; but the effect is enough to keep the light orbs within when my mind wanders.
Another instance of my own magic behaving similarly to standard elemental magic; interesting.
For now though I have sent a request detailing my needs to one of the top jewelers in the capital. A countess cannot wear something as cheap as depowered windstones, and it will take a skilled craftsman to create a necklace that serves its purpose while befitting my station. This will be my first selfish purchase with my newly acquired wealth. It is odd actually. I sent a down payment that would color the cheeks of most lower nobles. However, I am a Countess who has gained both the lands and funds to match her title. I shall dress the part if I wish to command respect from my fellow nobility.
Fifteenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Duke Zerbst's flagship arrived at La Rochelle today with a contingent of Germanian airships. They came bearing Zerbst iron and will leave with cannons, as was our arrangement. I did not go to meet with the man as I had already given my site managers all the authority they needed to make the exchanges. After the Zerbst ships are armed the Valliere fleet will follow; with my own war galleon and sloop to follow after that.
My reluctance to meet Duke Zerbst does stem in part from my mixed feelings over my defeat at his hands. However, more than that my heart wavers at the thought of my parents' arrival tomorrow. I haven't even seen my mother since I was crippled. Not that she hadn't tried mind you; I have previously rebuffed her inquires requesting a visit.
A part of me wishes she had ignored my wishes and visited regardless, but in my stubborn denial I had relied on the half-truth of wanting to solidify my power as a noble and to not be seen as a child being controlled by the Vallieres. I used Mother's own pride to keep her away... tis my fault I am in this situation.
Jean took time away from his school to have tea with me. His support is most welcome. Though I cannot ask him to be with me when I break the news to my parents, his calming presence is something I will greedily partake of for now.
Sixteenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
I think having a blight attack every hour would have made for a less draining day than today. When my parents arrived this afternoon I met them in my foyer and showed them myself to the living room. I am sure they greeted me so formally due to a mix of reasons. I have grown sharp enough to notice Mother's eyes linger upon my missing arm and scarred face. She had a steel in her that was hard to read, but I could guess there was a mix of regret to see her daughter so, and pride of my service to Tristain.
My Father was still very much set in "Father" mode. Our correspondence has been much more informal and he had previously seen my injuries, so his formality stemmed from why he presumed I asked him to meet me. As soon as we were seated Father was quick to ask for my explanation as to why I had chosen to slight him by arming his nemesis before himself. Of course, I took the wind from his sails with a plain explanation of the details surrounding my deal with the Zerbst and reasoning for doing so.
While it was his right to still be annoyed at the slight, such a rational explanation put me beyond any real reproach. Enough so that Father and Mother were quick to realize there was something more to my invitation than I had initially let on. A conclusion only further evidenced by my reluctance to get on with it.
In the end I did tell my parents I am dying. At first I relied an what resolve I could steel within myself to maintain composure as I explained exactly how I had contracted the blight and why I had made my decisions. At some point that composure had crumbled and Father embraced me. After that I became too emotional to remember exactly what I said and when, I only know that I explained everything as best I could between my tears.
Blanche arrived at some point to offer relief and an explanation from a medical perspective. I knew the details of manticore blight obviously, and mother was familiar, but Father had a slew of hopeless questions about what possible avenues could be taken to beat what ailed me. My father is a thinker, a planner; a man who believes the right tactical move could turn any battle, literal or otherwise.
As for Mother? She didn't embrace me. At the time it had hurt in a dull way. I could see her clenching her hands in an exertion to maintain her control. She refused to speak at first, whether it was because she could not trust her voice or otherwise I cannot be sure. Perhaps she felt nothing at all. Perhaps I just wanted to see the signs that she was holding herself and fooled myself into thinking she cared. I honestly do not know.
Seventeenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
This day was as draining as the last, but at least there was some good cheer to be had. Both my parents have decided to stay for at least the few days they can spare to be with me. Though Father will eventually have to leave for the blockade camp at the port of Bayonne, it is not so far a journey I cannot visit him. As for Mother, though she will return to the Valliere estate I cannot say I am as inclined to visit her. Not that I resent her, it is just that our relationship has become strained.
On a lighter note I was able to introduce Jean to my parents on a less formal occasion than my previous wedding. I say introduce, but it seems my mother is already familiar with the man to some degree. At first Father and Jean did not find much in common, what with my father being a renowned military man and Jean being as pacifistic as he is. I had stepped away to fetch the two some of my reserve brandy as an excuse to escape the awkward aura, yet when I returned the two had mystically become fast friends and were playing chess. What is it about men that allows them to warm to one another so easily? A vexing gender, males are.
In my attempt to hold a conversation with Mother I ended up bringing a burden upon poor Siesta. I mentioned the maid's lack of fencing teacher in hopes of gaining mother's recommendation for a good enough instructor I could hire that wouldn't balk at the idea of training a maid. Her response was to personally evaluate Siesta.
Though it took a direct command from Mother insinuating that Siesta didn't truly wish to protect me, but she did get my maid to face her with training swords. Surprisingly, Siesta held her own better than I expected. I know she goes through the drills Agnes taught her every day without falter, but I did not expect her to manage as well as she did against Mother, even with Mother refraining from using magic.
After a time Mother seemed to be satisfied with Siesta and called to a halt in the exercise. According to her Siesta needs a sparing partner more than an instructor. As she put it I should see to hiring a true master at arms rather than relying on the captain of my house guard. Though Mother's minor reproach of my household affairs stung, she is right. My house guard is composed of the remainder of my late husbands retinue and is led by a promoted man who is a captain in name only. Beyond that I have the soldiers I hired to guard the prisoner camp outside Tarbes. Hiring a master at arms that could command and expand both forces is a good idea.
Tis odd, sad even, that my most familiar relations I can have with my own mother is when she is exposing weaknesses in my conduct.
Eighteenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Father has delayed his departure until tomorrow on the excuse of seeing his fleet arrive for armament, but his duty will take him from my home early tomorrow morning. We went over a schedule for his ships and he explained what La Rochelle might be called on to help with in the coming blockade. Yet all throughout our business I could tell Father's heart wasn't with him.
Twas only after our business was completed and I embraced the man did he let the façade of a military man drop. We spent some time, talking about stories when I was young. From silly times he played with me as a toddler, to my few victories at school. And after it all he told me how proud he was of me. I think I needed that more than anything else. The knowledge that I have lived up to what he knew I was capable of fills me with a sense that I can only describe as completeness.
In that moment I did confess why worries over my strained relationship with Mother. True, she had always been a strong, hard woman, but this was more than that. Father's only advice was to delay my nightly walk and seek out my own training grounds.
At fathers request I ventured alone to my training fields once evening had fallen. The still, silent night exploded into a torrent of howling winds as soon as I crossed the sound dampening wards and entered the minor valley my own explosions had dug over time. There I found Mother, throwing spell after spell against the rocky hill before her. She carved out craters rivaling even my own explosions with nothing more than sharpened air.
For a time, I simply stood in the shadowed area behind my mother. Again and again she threw her magic against the earth before her. Throughout my life I have always struggled to understand my mother's heart when we talked; but there, watching her cast, I finally could understand her feelings. She was a woman of actions, not words; and those very actions communicated to me on a level I can only begin to comprehend.
Stress, guilt, sadness, anger and fury, I could feel what plagued my mother as she wore herself down into a sweaty mess. My initial thought was to leave Mother to her privacy, but I have grown assertive and decided I would use the remainder of my lifespan how I see fit. Thus, I cleared my throat and strode into the valley with my mother.
Her surprise alone would have been worth the trip. A funny thing, seeing that woman with her composure broken. However, the true boon was how I was able to pry out my mother's worries with relative ease. She irrationally blames herself; thinking that if she had let me simply live at the Valliere estate, or even gotten me a dragon rather than one of her own manticores. Foolish thoughts, as I would not have accepted becoming a burden on the family, and had I been riding a dragon the day I had defended Tarbes it would have left me to fall to my death.
Still, I understand that guilt can often be irrational, so I replied with an action any past version of myself would have called crazy. I myself embraced my mother. Though she was rigid at first, she soon returned my affection. Though our embrace was silent, it wasn't empty. We spent some time there in the upturned dirt of the training grounds; together as family.
Nineteenth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Both my parents had to leave this morning. Father cannot delay his departure to Bayonne any longer and Mother must see the army there to reinforce the port. Though Mother will have to return to manage the Valliere land soon after, she has promised to arrange a time when we can all meet either Bayonne or here in Tarbes.
Just before my mother left upon her manticore I stopped her. I wanted to tell her the words I had kept to myself last time she left me. With all the conviction I could muster, I told her I realized her life may have left her ill suited to the task of motherhood, but I truly appreciate how much she cares for me. Though part of me feared she would view my words as a slight, I pressed on and told her I would not trade her for anyone, for no one could have given me as much dedication as her. With all my heart I declared she would always be my mother, and I her daughter.
Mother did not reply with cold steel I was used to or the raw emotion I had experienced from her the previous night. No, she smiled with pride and told me she too would trade me for no other daughter.
Twenty-First Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
I have missed a nightly entry due to a hesitant spirit brought on by the subject of the letters I wrote yesterday. I know not which letter was the more difficult task. That to my sister Eleanor or to Henrietta.
Though Mother will break the news to Cattleya; Eleanor is at the Tristain-Gallia Academy of High Magical Learning. Thus it is up to me to contact her with my news. Eleanor has always been harsh with me; mimicking Mother in her own way I expect. As such I have some difficulty dealing with her. I wanted to express my lack of regret without devaluing my own life. A task that was harder than I first expected. Bah, knowing Eleanor she will probably write back with a critique of any grammatical errors I make.
Contrary to the technical difficulty of Eleanor's letter, my message to Henrietta was a trial due to the emotional weight behind it. I wish to express my love for my dear friend, yet even now I feel inadequate of her. At the same time I must temper my writing for Henrietta leads our army. What if my words were to instill a regret or sorrow that would reverberate throughout Tristain's forces? Damnation upon me, I fear failing her once more even in the simple act of telling her the truth.
What's more, some part of me fears she will not be saddened by my passing. We have been without correspondence for some time as she has been embroiled in politics and preparations. Our only true interaction was in front of the nobles of the court at the ball. Even then it was one of liege and vassal, not that of friends.
Even now I stew over the letter I sent yesterday. What words I wrote seem worse with each passing moment of mental critique. Surely, I am a poor friend.
Twenty-Third Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Once more I must apologize for skipping an entry. Though at the very least this time it is for a more positive reason. Last night at an improperly late hour, Princess Henrietta arrived by Pegasus. The winged horses are not often used as battle mounts due to their rarity and lack of battle hardiness, but there is no mount as fast in a marathon as a Pegasus. The Princess had flown from Bayonne to Tarbes at full speed without rest.
At first I was frozen with fear. I must have rambled off half a dozen incoherent protests against her presence. For her to travel alone was dreadfully dangerous, that I was not worthy of such effort, or that simply she must be very busy with the army. Yet the tears in her eyes broke what steel I had in my heart, and her embrace melted my reluctance.
She had come not as a liege of a nation, nor as the commander of an army, but as one rushing to the side of her dear friend. The shards of self-hate that had hidden away in the cracks of my heart since that day I failed her burned away in the light of her friendship. Once more I remember why I am loyal to Henrietta. It is not just because she is my liege, it is not just because I was raised to support the crown, it was because my friend believed from the beginning that I had worth.
Even though her duties far outnumber my own, Henrietta made time for me just to prove how much she cared. She couldn't stay, even for the night. As the army could not wake with their commander missing. So, I summoned my sloop and woke the poor sailors. Patriots as they are, the men were quick to wake at the sight of their Princess. The hours it took to deliver the Princess to Bayonne were spent rekindling our friendship with memories and laughs within my cabin.
A weight unlike any other has been lifted from me. Even with the world pulling us apart at every turn, Princess Henrietta remains my friend.
Twenty-Fourth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
As opposed to the emotional turmoil of the week past, I once more stepped into the shoes of a ruler today. First on my list was reviewing Jean's choices of teaching and administrative staff for his school. A task necessary both as countess of the land and as acting treasurer of said school. As is usual with institutions such as these, the stipends of the teachers are nothing truly affluent, but enough to live comfortably on. True money as an academic was gained with the results of one's research rather than the position itself. So as a treasurer I had no issues with what Jean wished. As a Countess? Well I am more impressed than anything else.
As Countess of Tarbes and its surrounding lands, it will come to me to govern the nobles that settle within my domain. As such it is my right to bar any entry. It is not something commonly exercised mind you, but the option means I must go through the formality of approving them all the same. The names I approved are what impressed me. I recognized quite a few as distinguished academics, both in natural sciences and magical theory. Even the heir to Count Dumont was requesting a stay as a researching. In two years time the man would be my equal in rank. What is more, that wasn't even the highest ranked candidate.
Eleanor had applied for the position of head of the magical-technical application wing; a field of study that is Colbert's own idea. He explained it as using magic to enhance rather than replace mundane technology, though the specifics are above my expertise. What boggles my mind is that Eleanor is the Valliere heir, even though she technically isn't Duchess yet no one in their right mind would even place me as her equal. For someone of her rank to leave her current position to work a fledgling project is socially quite surprising. Though, honestly, it does make sense. Father has often lamented that she is an academic first and an heir second. I shall just try to stay out of whatever turmoil this decision of hers causes.
On the other side of the social spectrum is Blanche; apparently my healer has convinced Jean to create a medical research division, with her as an administrator just below head of said division. A clever woman, that Blanche; both convincing Jean of her ideas and acknowledging that her status as bastard would push away others if she were head of her own creation. That, and rather than seek a proper wing of study, she requested a simple division within the Natural Sciences wing. This way she can hold some rank without causing issue. Also, it is not lost on me that the proposed head of the medical research division is a lord from the capital, someone she has no doubt already proved her acumen to.
I brought this insight up with Jean, which to my surprise annoyed the man. In all the proposed staff, only three are commoners by birth. A pair merchants who penned a joint treatise on economics and one smith who has written on the composition of alloys. Finding a commoner who is both educated and bold enough to stand with nobles has proved a task of great difficulty. I had to remind the man that that was an issue he had the means to correct, and that it would take strength to keep the nobles working for him despite their possible common born students.
Twenty- Fifth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
If yesterday I wore the mantle of an administrator, today I donned that of an entrepreneur. My fledgling airship merchant Betrand truly came into his own with his first trade mission. The man took what he earned from the sale of wine and bought textiles, which were then traded halfway back for preserved foodstuffs, which in turn were sold to the army supply officers in La Rochelle. A decision that turned a significantly greater profit than I expected when I sent him out to sell my product.
Though the lions share of the profits is mine, as it was my wine sold on my airships, I still feel a reward is due to Betrand for stepping beyond his experience and proving himself as true merchant. As such I have given him an even greater opportunity. With my entire merchant fleet flying and manned; I gave him control over all four airships, and the funds to stock each. If the man fails, he shall return to controlling one airship. If he succeeds, and if my intuation is right he will, I shall have found a diamond in the rough and Betrand will rise to the status and wealth his skill deserves.
That completed fleet came with an issue I had long delayed addressing. An excess of prisoner workers I had promised work and pay to. I made a trip to the prisoner encampment to both seek ideas and gauge their temperament. It should be noted that between the prisoners pooling notes of credit and their own work ethic, that camp has transformed into more of a small town than a true camp. It is still guarded and walled, but they have had a well, a common hall, and even a cleared area set aside for games of leisure. I know at one point I was asked permission to build a tavern, something I had to turn down. Being lenient on smuggled alcohol was one thing, encouraging a bunch of penned up sailors to drink in excess was another.
Speaking of alcohol, that was my solution to my manpower issue. In my conversation with the prisoner representatives, I have learned that most of my unoccupied prisoners were originally farmers drafted or recruited by the Reconquista. So I am assigning all free prisoners to the command of Siesta's father Liam to plow new fields. The man's wine sold quite well and with a trade fleet more product to export can only lead to profit. Liam was initially overwhelmed by my proposal; enough so that I was sure to make it clear that this was an optional offer rather than a command. The man was quick to agree, humbly saying that though he did not deserve such an opportunity, he would not fail.
Much like my opportunity given to Betrand, this is a test. Liam is excellent at what he does and it will be up to him to prove he can translate that expertise to a management role. If he fails, I'll leave him to work his original land and hire a separate manager to oversee the multiple fields. Though it is true that I own the land Liam works, I am not so foolish as to remove a man from his ancestral home if he fails at a challenge I myself set for him.
Siesta herself thanked me for what I am doing for her family; of course I rebuffed such a notion. Though Siesta's service to me is without equal, my choice to develop my own lands was one of rational planning, not gratitude. Now, the request I sent to Agnes de Milan for recommendation on suitable master at arms with skill in fencing was partially one of gratitude. Of course I shall not tell Siesta of my plan just yet, I do wish to surprise her.
Twenty-Sixth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Today I spoke with Fouquet. Not to go over a report of hers or plan out any future subterfuge, but rather she had a request to make of me; and what a request it was. She asked for an advance on an entire year's pay.
In truth I should have seen something coming, the woman had grown increasingly stressed recently. Still, the sum she requested is nothing to scoff at. Though within my power, I was not about to hand over such a sum without explanation. So, though it took more than a little prying, she eventually relented and explained her reasoning.
Apparently my spymaster has been sending her wages to her sister in Albion. Her sister who runs an orphanage. She needed to get her funds to her sister before the blockade sealed them off. I admit my initial reaction was one of incredulity. I half expected this to be some jest of Fouquet's. Yet her expression was vulnerable enough that I realized that she was in fact, a far better person than I had originally estimated. Though she was not happy when I realized aloud that she had been a virtuous thief from a storybook; stealing from the rich and giving to the needy.
Though her blush was half embarrassment and half anger, her face shifted to surprise when I agreed to her request without pomp. Fouquet trusted me enough to ask rather than simply steal what she needed and disappear into Albion, a task well within her talents. Tis a trust I shall return. Of course, even beyond sentiment Fouquet is an invaluable asset and nearly any gamble would be worth retaining her loyalty.
On that note I should be glad I lived up to Fouquet's expectations. For some time I expected to wake up with my treasury plundered and spymaster missing, yet still she remains. I shall make a note for now, should that day ever come I will need to take a hard look at myself to make sure I have not fallen to the trap of entitlement so many nobles succumb to.
Twenty-Seventh Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Progress!
While working with some depowered windstones to see just how they affected my light orbs I came upon quite a large leap forward. When I tried to release as much control as possible upon my light orb it quickly dispersed into a strange, glowing fog of light. It is an unnatural feeling to forcibly relaxing my hold on my own willpower, but after some practice I am able to reliable repeat the technique.
There are issues currently. For one, the fog expends its stored willpower relatively fast, making it useless for storing ready to cast explosions. What is more, I cant seem to control the fog more than simple movements and disturbances. Any real control rests firmly beyond my grasp for the time being. The best I was able to achieve with a days practice were minor shifts in color. Though currently useless, tis still a brand new spell for me. One I shall refrain from naming until I gain a better understanding of its limits.
Truly, recent events are giving me an optimistic outlook on the future. I hold no secrets from my loved ones. My lands are expanding and my people are well taken care of. Socially, I have clout and respect. Even though I suffered a rather powerful blight attack this afternoon I still maintain a positive outlook. I shant allow what ails me to detract from the good I've done or my numerous successes.
Twenty-Eighth Day of Brimir's Eighth Month
Upon reading my previous fate-taunting entry I do believe I might have asked for this. I write this entry far later than is my usual, far later than even when I usually go to sleep. Just as I had been sitting down to write my nightly entry a thunderous crunch alerted me to a disturbance outside.
Tabitha's young wind dragon Sylphid had all but crash landed in my courtyard, the poor dragon bore numerous wounds and a particularly gapping hole in her wing. Her passengers faired no better. The only conscious rider was a burned and bloodied Kirche. My friend was delirious from exhaustion and blood loss, mumbling of elves and other unintelligible warnings before she blacked out. Despite Kirche's exhausted state, it took two of my house guard to pry her arms off of the other two unconscious passengers she was holding to Sylphid.
I recognized the first as Tabitha. The normally implacable girl looked so frail; pale and wounded as she was. I almost thought her expired at first, but Colbert assured me he felt breaths as he carried her to Blanche. What truly worried me was the fist sized hole in her abdomen covered with ice. Something like that... No, I must rely on Blanche.
The third passenger was one I have never met, but from the resemblance I can guess the woman to be Tabitha's mother. Though thankfully unharmed, the woman seemed to be in some kind of magical sleep. A sleeping potion is the most likely culprit.
I have set Blanche to the task of caring for the three and had Sylphid retired in Alexis' stable. Dragons are hardy beings and their healing is quite powerful, her life is not in danger at the very least. Blanche gave no such assurances for my two friends.
Though I wanted to let fear and fretting consume me, I knew that would not help my friends. Instead I put myself to the task of doing what I could. I sent Fouquet with Alexis to La Rochelle to retrieve what reagents Blanche requested that weren't within my stores. Under my orders my house guard has locked down my manor. No one leaves or enters without my permission. Luckily the night sky is darkened by clouds so I doubt any in Tarbes nor the countryside saw Sylphid arrive and I will keep that information contained as long as I can until I know more. Though I doubt Kirche's delirious mumblings of an elf, I will not underestimate whatever enemy did that to the two most powerful students of the academy. Nor will I forgive whoever hurt my friends.
Whoever they are, they will learn the price of my wrath.