Chapter 18

Imperial camp of Ykalon

Piña and Beefeater were led by Mei to where the camp followers of the Saderan army were held. Cyrus and a small escort of legionnaires accompanied them.

A burst of laughter and the noise of people running caught their attention. A small boy in wealthy clothes followed by a teenage girl burst from the camp, he was apparently holding something. He wasn't looking in front of him and was unable to avoid the Councilor.

"Julius!" his sister exclaimed as her brother fell on the ground.

Mei helped him up, gazing at him warily while dismissing her escort with one hand. "That was some fall, young man. I hope you're not hurt."

"N..no."

"Julius, you should apologize. Bumping into people like that is unworthy of proper raised children," Flavia chastised him as she approached.

The young boy bit his lip, as if caught red-handed before bowing. "I'm sorry, my lady. It won't happen again."

"That's quite alright," the noblewoman replied with a smile, "we've all been young and foolish once."

Flavia grabbed her brother by the hand to drag him only to stop when her gaze landed on Piña, her eyes widening. "P-Princess Piña Co Lada!" She immediately realized a curtsy before silently ordering Julius to imitate her, "We are sorry, your Highness, we didn't know you were here."

"I remember you, Flavia, isn't it? The daughter of Legatus Antonius and Lady Livia Sartorius."

"I…" the girl's cheeks flushed, she hadn't expected the Princess to know who she was, why would she? She wasn't high nobility, "...yes, your Highness."

The redhead turned briefly to the boy. "And you must be Julius, their youngest son."

He nodded.

"How are you two faring in these trying times?"

"Actually quite well, your Highness. We are well-treated and are allowed to wander around our camp. I even made a joke that it was almost like a vacation," Flavia told her.

"I see," the Princess replied with a smile, "I am glad to hear it."

"Did you want to see our mother, perchance? She is meeting with Count Formal right now inside her tent."

Good, the two persons I wanted to see at the same place, the Saderan Princess thought, luck's on my side. "That was indeed my intention."

She briefly scanned the noble girl. "By the way, Lady Flavia, would you be interested in learning swordsmanship and other knight's skills? My knighting school is always open to noble children like you."

Flavia's face distorted in a wide smile. "If you think I have the potential… I'll be happy to."

As the two Sartorius children were beginning to depart, someone else called them out. "Wait! You forgot this."

Eyes turned to see Cyrus walking towards Julius, handing him something within his hand. It was some kind of wooden soldier.

"Legatus Caïus!" the child exclaimed. "I thought I had lost him when I fell. Father was the one who gave him to me, he said he was a strong and brave general."

Beefeater and Piña briefly shared a brief look before wincing. The way the boy talked about his late father, that wasn't the reaction of a child who knew about their parent's death.

"Oh no!" Julius said while inspecting his toy, "it broke here!"

"Please," Cyrus told him, "allow me."

His hands briefly glowed as he put on the toy. Its cracks vanished much to the boy's joy and wonder.

"A bit of alteration magic, nothing much," the Battlemage explained.

The child thanked him profusely before leaving to play.

The scene brought an air of bewilderment to both the Princess and Beefeater. They didn't expect such a show of kindness from the soldier.

Guess there's more to him than what meets the eye.

The procession's entrance within the camp didn't go unnoticed. Several noble ladies gaped in shock upon recognizing Princess Piña. Some immediately went to meet them.

The redhead gestured her hand to her escort to stand down, making them understand she would handle the situation before advancing towards the crowd.

"Princess Piña!" Octavia exclaimed, "you are here! Are you…"

"A Prisoner? Hardly, this is simply a diplomatic visit, to ensure our people were well treated as the Nirnians promised us," she replied in an assured tone. "As I speak to you, negotiations are being conducted. It won't be long before some of you are being released but tell me, how bad was your captivity my ladies?"

"It was… a bit more stressful than being camp followers as we have more limited freedom of movement and our husbands aren't with us but… we have to admit we were better treated than we would have thought."

Piña nodded while scanning the gathering. Their clothing was clean and they didn't look malnourished either, the Nirnians hadn't lied and she just had direct confirmation, that was good.

"Lady Sartorius was the one to bring us news from our spouses, actually," Lady Calia, still carrying her babe into her arms, told her while stepping out from the crowd. "She has done a lot for us."

"Of course," the Princess acknowledged, "I was on my way to meet with her." She tilted her head to salute them, "my ladies. Please keep faith, I haven't abandoned you and if I have my way, you'll be home soon."

The noblewomen bowed. "Thank you, your Highness."

Mei smirked as she observed the exchange, it hadn't escaped her that the girl had used "I" instead of "we haven't abandoned you". Gathering allies so soon your Highness?

There was no need for Beefeater to accompany her to the meeting, instead she was left gathering information about the events that had happened within the camp. Who knows? Some could prove useful.

The first sight Piña saw upon entering the Sartorius' tent was Count Formal and Lady Livia in deep discussion, the Count touching the widow's arm in a comforting manner. The noise of footsteps and the tent's being opened had them turning their heads towards them. Their gaze widened when it landed upon her.

"Princess Piña Co Lada!" They both bowed.

She returned their greetings with a smile. "Count Colt Formal, Lady Livia Sartorius, it's a pleasure." She briefly glanced at the latter, her face hardening, "I have heard about Legatus Antonius' demise, you have my deepest condolences, my Lady, he was a brave man."

Livia didn't reply but seemed to acknowledge her comment with a nod.

"Lady Councilor Tharn," the two Saderan nobles greeted as the woman stepped in turn.

"Count Formal, Lady Sartorius," she saluted back with a small curtsy.

"We apologize, your Highness," Colt said, "we weren't warned of your arrival."

"I've left Italica this morning to see for myself how well our people were treated as prisoners."

"As you can see, more like guests than actual prisoners," the Formal Patriarch answered.

The redhead unconsciously nodded, something else on her mind. "Forgive me for asking, Count, but I couldn't help but notice, you weren't a camp follower. Why were you admitted here?"

"Oh…" the man awkwardly scratched his head, "that, you see… during the battle my horse fell on me," he started to recount.

Piña gaped in shock, her thoughts coming back to the night where she had almost died herself.

"I was injured and lost consciousness for the rest of the fighting which I am grateful for, it actually shielded me from the worst of it. It's two of their mage soldiers that found me, one of them healed me from the worst of my injuries then when I came back to myself… I was in bed. Lady Livia and Emperor Ivan were there," he turned towards the woman, "to identify me, I think it was?"

She confirmed it with a brief nod.

"And Emperor Ivan had you staying in this camp instead since then?" the Princess questioned him.

"Indeed." Of course, there was also the whole "suspecting Molt of using the invasion to get rid of some sacrificial lambs" and how he had fed the Nirnians intel about the Vassal Kingdoms but he wasn't going to tell that to the Princess.

Piña wasn't fully buying it but that didn't matter for now, they had other problems to deal with. "I suppose the Nirnians have kept you updated about the situation in Falmart?" She turned to Mei who gave a small nod to confirm it.

"They did," Colt replied, "that's how we learned about those De... da…" he seemed to stumble on a word.

"Daedra," Mei corrected him.

"Right, thank you my Lady," he told her before turning back to the Princess. "We learned about those creatures attacking Italica."

"A most frightening night, I nearly died myself here," Piña recounted much to the two other Saderans' surprise and shock. "Fortunately, the Nirnians saved the city though I regret to inform you most of the city watch didn't survive."

The Count sighed. "It may be a small consolation but at least I'm glad there aren't more losses to mourn. Do you happen to know how fare the Vassals of Clan Formal?"

The redhead bit her lip. Didn't he know? Of course, with all the events that happened in the span of a few days, it was possible some details had been overlooked. "Your eldest daughters, Loui and Elle, started a feud over who would inherit Countess Myui's custody. They had their husbands intervene and it degenerated into an armed conflict, both fighting to take control of Italica."

Colt's gaze widened before darkening, the Count clenching his fists in anger. "I had a feeling this would happen. They always leered at the city and the title of head of the Clan. With me gone it would go to the last clan's member, my dear Myui. She was only a child so of course they would go after her, for 'her sake'." His tone was bitter.

Mei's heart sank at seeing the poor man in that state. The Tharn have had their own period of family feud several times in the past, sometimes leading to a lot of bloodshed, even from unrelated bystanders. She prayed to the Divines it wouldn't happen again, neither during her lifetime nor any of her children and grandchildren. She briefly glanced at the Princess. Given what she knew, she didn't envy the redhead's situation. Family should support each other, not fight among themselves

"I imprisoned them," Piña informed him, "both wives and husbands, for you to judge them. The rest of their army deserted."

"Thank you, your Highness." I shall deal with them when I eventually come back

She waved her hand. "Think of it as nothing, just the protection of my lawful subjects. Which, by the way" she gestured to Mei who nodded in understanding.

"We have agreed to release a number of prisoners as a show of goodwill and trust to Sadera," the female Councilor told them. "We want to prioritize civilians and the most affected soldiers from the battle."

Come to think of it, I'll need to visit them later, Piña remembered.

Colt's grim expression lit up. "That's wonderful news!"

"I will stay."

Every person in the tent turned towards Livia, a surprised expression, shocked even for some, on their faces.

"But Livia…" the Count began to plead, "you can't be seriously thinking about it."

"I am very serious about it," she cut him off. "My husband may be dead but I have a duty to those of our people who will remain here, after all who will act in my stead if I am gone?"

Mei silently nodded. The Saderan woman was right, she had done a lot to maintain good relations between Tamrielians and the prisoners.

"Besides," Lady Sartorius turned to the Saderan Princess, "you said 'you' agreed. But what about Emperor Molt? Or your brothers?"

Piña took a deep breath to maintain her composure before facing the woman. "I can assure you everything is done to achieve peaceful accords between Sadera and Nirn… Tamriel."

"With all your respect, your Highness, I am widowed because the Emperor sent my husband and his men to an unknown world to conquer and plunder it without knowing what was behind the Gate and then expected everything would go well. Forgive me if I have little faith left in the Capital."

The Princess' gaze remained void of emotions. Lady Livia's words were bordering on treason but then… she was grieving and… she wasn't actually wrong. Their sheer arrogance had led to one of the biggest military fiascos the Saderan Empire had ever known since the Arctic War. She knew what the Nirnians were capable of but would her Imperial father agree with her? To say nothing of Zorzal.

"Not to mention the shame that will mark me and my children for surrendering and being captured. Added to my recent status of a widow… my family is safer here for the time being."

The rest of the room grimaced at the implications.

Beefeater scribbled something on a notebook that had been given to her. "So how exactly was your captivity here?" she asked a noble lady.

"Well, at first we were afraid of what they might do to us, like selling us to slavery, even though they gave Lady Livia their word."

The female Knight encouraged her to continue with a nod.

"Much to our surprise, we were assigned female soldiers to watch us, even the officer in charge. Some of them are local demihumans but they were all cordial to us. We were given places to bathe and shower in privacy, we can wander the camp at our leisure, we are regularly fed, food isn't grand but it's not bad either and Lady Livia tries to keep in contact with our husbands."

As she continued to write, the purple haired girl threw a glance at the soldier accompanying her. Cyrus was keeping a dutiful watch. He had inadvertently caught the attention of some prisoners when casting a spell to summon her current notebook and pen. A few girls of her age were fawning over him, a calculated look in their eyes but he either hadn't noticed or didn't care.

She had recognized some of them, the former bethrohed of her late comrades, Herm Fule Maio and Calasta, the only Saderan high ranked confirmed to have been killed. Without them, the girls had lost their "social protection", which explained their current behavior, they were afraid and desperate. Given what she just learned, Cyrus was probably the first unlucky man of marriageable age to step into the camp, barring Count Formal of course. The fact they couldn't get a good look at him due to his helmet further hammered the point.

She shook her head with disgust. It could have been her if it wasn't for the Order but in an even worse position, being a bastard. It was… toxic.

"Do you know women who lost their husbands?" She asked the lady in front of her.

The other nodded sadly. "More than I could say, I was lucky."

"How are they faring?"

"Some are mourning, others, well… trying to make plans for the future." She sent a knowing look to the Battlemage's admirers.

"Mmh, mmh," Beefeater said with a small nod. "The Princess and I thank you for taking the time to answer those questions, my Lady."

"It was a pleasure."

The female Knight turned to her escort. "Sir Cyrus? I have finished here, we should go back."

He sent her a nod. "As you wish, my Lady."

But before they could leave, someone called out to them.

"Well, well, well, you're not going to interrogate us too, 'Lady' Beefeater? I'm hurt," one of the girls said.

The female Knight groaned. Of course, she had to come rile her up. "Lady Aurelia, a pleasure to see you again." It really wasn't.

Aurelia smirked. "Still serving the Princess faithfully, I see," She made a face of disapproval. "That's a noble occupation. I suppose you must feel proud of it."

The quip was meant to elicit a reaction from the purple haired girl but she merely clenched her teeth before ignoring her.

Aurelia then turned to the Battlemage. "As must be yours, Sir Cyrus is it?" Her attitude mellowed.

"One could say that, my lady," he replied neutrally. "I beg your pardon but I have duties to attend to." He then gave his arm to Beefeater. "I think we should go, Lady Beefeater."

She smiled before grabbing onto it. "Right, the Princess is waiting." She then turned to the other girl with a fake smile. "It has been good seeing you well, Lady Aurelia," she said before departing.

If it wasn't for him, she might have strangled her here and right now. She might not have had the same hot blooded temperament as Bozes but she had her limits and Aurelia was pushing all of her buttons.

Piña and Mei exited the Sartorius family's tent just as they arrived. The Princess sent a knowing look to the Councilwoman before heading straight to her friend. Cyrus separated from Beefeater to let the two Saderan girls converse and joined his superior.

"So? What did you manage to learn?" the redhead asked her.

Her friend handed her the notebook. "More or less the same thing every time. They are well-treated and no deplorable incidents happened, you'll see everything here."

The Princess briefly browsed it, "anything else noteworthy to report?"

"Well…" started the female Knight as she scratched the back of her head awkwardly, "I met Aurelia, you know, the betrothed… ahem, former betrothed of Herm."

I'm not going to like it, right? Piña thought with a disillusioned look.

"You know how important for her that marriage was?"

"Yes, where are you getting at with it?"

"Well… let's say she is in desperate need to replace her deceased betrothed," Beefeater answered before throwing a look behind her friend.

"What…" the Princess stopped herself as she connected the dots before sending a quick glance to see what her subordinate was looking at. Her gaze widened when she saw Cyrus.

She turned back to her friend. "She didn't…"

The other girl nodded in confirmation.

She groaned before facepalming. "By Emroy! I'm trying to fix this whole mess and all she can think about is trying to secure a new husband." She sighed. "This is awkward, please tell me she didn't cause an incident."

"Aside from the fact she wasn't alone…" that elicited another groan of frustration from the redhead, "just the more proactive, the Battlemage's reaction to it was… professional? He didn't seem to acknowledge it."

Piña allowed herself to breathe to calm herself, a hand resting on her chest. "And thank the Gods for that. Now please tell me it was just that one time and they didn't try to woo their guards."

"Unlikely, they are all female, Count Formal on the other hand…" Beefeater's expression morphed, her face showing disgust, "I wouldn't be surprised, even if he has two daughters of their age or even older."

"That's more manageable, thankfully. I'll read the rest of the report later, now..." she straightened her position, "we're going to inspect where our soldiers are held."

Countryside of Italica

"Say," Caranya began as she gazed at Tuka, "that's a pretty necklace you got here. I don't remember seeing you with it before."

"You think so Ma'am?" the teenage elf answered as she put her hand on her jewelry, "Sir Black-Scales gave it to me as he bought gifts for his family."

"I can see why he did, aside from looking pretty on you, it matches with your eyes," the Altmer commented with a smile.

Tuka's cheeks reddened and her heart jumped up a little at the compliment. "Th-Thank you Ma'am!"

They were approaching the clearing where Cato and Lelei were training. The sage sat on a tree stump, watching his student as she waved her hands around to channel magic. She summoned several of the explosive projectiles she had used the night of the battle before throwing them against nearby wooden targets. They were all reduced to rubble.

"Well done, Lelei," her master congratulated the girl as he stroked his beard.

Gazing at her targets' remains gave Caranya an appreciation of the young mage talent. The girl had raw magical power, that much was true, though her spells, while colored and pretty looking like fireworks, seemed… crude.

The Altmer suddenly stopped, grasping her chin to reflect on what Cato had said.

If people around here haven't fully grasped the concept of magicka, then how do people decide to become mages…

It was obvious the usual methods of learning employed in Tamriel wouldn't work if they didn't even know about magicka so the only people that could be mages would be… people with high magical reserves, enough to be noticed.

The noise of incoming footsteps had the Sage and his student turn their head in the two elves' direction.

"Lady Caranya and Miss Tuka!" the old man exclaimed, "we weren't expecting you."

"Ma'am, I ain't no lady. But do continue, we just came to watch."

"Oh, of course, ma'am Caranya, my mistake," the sage corrected himself.

The Altmer gave him a warm smile. "No harm done."

Aaaah, Cato sighed in daydream, what a pretty thing. I wonder how she must look in a dress or… in a state of undress, he suddenly thought, a pervy look on his face.

He suddenly felt a sharp painful pang, making him clench his teeth. He turned around to see Lelei gazing at him with a look of disapproval, silently threatening him to cast another projectile at him.

The Battlemage Captain glanced at their exchange, deducing easily what it was about. She grimaced. Really? Dirty old man? I thought I heard something from Jing… disgusting

Cato cleared his throat to diffuse the current ambient awkwardness. "Anyway… I'm afraid you arrived just at the end of our training session."

"A shame…"

"Ma'am Caranya," the bluenette mage began, "I had a question if you would."

The Altmer gave her a nod of approval.

"You saw the demonstration, right? I'd like to hear your opinion. If you were to evaluate my spells, how would you find them?"

"Hehm… you mean from a destructive point of view, or the technique?"

"Both"

Caranya's gaze diverted from the girl to the sky as she was gathering her thoughts. "Well… I would say though the blasts in themselves are hardly noteworthy for a combat trained mage, calling so many projectiles in a brief succession like you did is impressive for someone of your age. By Tamrielian standard, you'll be easily certified apprentice level on your way to become journeyman in the Magical School of Destruction."

The girl frowned a brow before grabbing a notebook from inside her robe. "Are those qualifications used in your homeland? Can you tell me more?"

The officer Battlemage acquiesced with a smile. "Gladly. To start off, let's start with Magical Schools. They correspond to disciplines based around a certain goal or mindset. The school of Destruction I mentioned regroups offensive based spells, like fireballs, lightning bolts or other harmful effects. I suppose you possess similar concepts?"

"Aye," Cato confirmed, "your Destruction School seems to roughly correspond to our combat magic."

"Mmh mmh," Caranya hummed before continuing. "Now, what you need to understand is that these 'schools' are arbitrary and used to facilitate learning due to regrouping spells with similar 'mindset' but do not reflect the actual complexity of magic. As such, some spells can easily fit in two or more schools and sometimes, old schools disappear and are absorbed in others or new ones can be added. Currently, there's six recognized Magical Schools: Destruction, Alteration, Restoration, Conjuration, Illusion and Mysticism. To those we can add two more disciplines, Enchanting, the art of imbuing items with magic and Alchemy. There's also other more advanced and recognized disciplines but that's for another topic."

"I see," Lelei said as she frantically wrote in her notebook, "and about those 'apprentice' and 'journeyman' terms you used? I suppose they indicate the proficiency of a person within a certain school, right?"

"Exactly! But, don't read too much into it, it's more to indicate how sophisticated the spells you can cast from one school can be but that hardly means you're a true master. For example, I rank as a master in several schools but I'm hardly a true 'Master-Wizard' of those schools."

Cato absently stroked his beard while thinking. "'Master-Wizard'... is that some sort of ranking system? Like at the Lindon Academy with 'Sage', 'Expert' and so on?"

"Yes and no," the young woman replied back. "While that ranking exists among some magical organizations, here I'm talking more about an 'informal' classification," she clarified. "Master-Wizard and Archmage is generally referring to mages of incredible power and knowledge, capable of feats near-impossible and I'm not just talking about raw power but changing the fabric of reality on an unimaginable level."

"Unimaginable how?"

"Well… merging alternate selves together?"

The Falmartians fell silent, looking at her with a look that meant everything.

She waved her hand. "Forget it."

"Ma'am," Tuka asked shyly, "where would you rank yourself then?"

The Altmer turned her head towards the girl. "Me and my fellow Battlemages are recruited from the ranks of certified mages... but we're far from being true masters. So, I would say we are confirmed 'Wizards'. Below Master-Wizard and Archmage*. Note that unlike other Mages, we are trained for warfare and any kind of combat situation, so it may not always reflect on offensive capabilities for the Wizard in question."

"You know… I'm starting to think that our rank of Archmage isn't even at all equivalent to your rank of Archmage," Cato said as sweat pearled from his forehead.

"Depends what you mean by it," she turned back to Lelei. "Tell me, you're considered an apprentice by your Academy's standard, right?"

The bluenette acquiesced with a nod. "Student is the rank, yes."

"Actually, Lelei is almost a graduate," her master intervened, his lips spreading into a smile, "she's already paving her way to become a Sage like me if not more. Her talent with magic is impressive." The old man sounded really proud of her.

"Oh really? I'd like to hear more about that."

"I've already mastered mandatory defense magic," the young spellcaster replied as her body shined in rainbow-like colors. "And offensive magic as you saw earlier. Once I fully graduate, I'd like to continue my research into magic."

"A shield spell? We use similar variants. What field would you like to study?"

"I don't know right now, I'm still searching Ma'am."

The Battlemage gave her a gentle nod of approval. Reminds me of my teenage years, except I already knew what I wanted to do…Her gaze widened as she remembered something else.

"Tuka," she called out to the young elf, "would you mind doing a demonstration of your lightning spirit magic? I'd like to compare it to my own."

Lelei abruptly nodded at this. "I've never had the chance to properly study spirit magic. I, too, would wish to see it for myself."

"I don't know if I can…" Tuka answered hesitantly.

Caranya gave the blonde elf an encouraging look. "I've seen you fight with those magical arrows, I believe you can do it." Then the Altmer gazed at a rock before extending her hand and concentrating. A small lightning strike coming from the sky exploded against the stone. The Battlemage turned back to the girl. "Your turn."

Tuka swallowed her saliva in a gulp, calmed her breath and started to chant in an unknown language. A ball of blue colored lightning started to glow in her hands before she took aim at the sky. A lightning bolt emerged from her hands before another lightning strike came crashing against the rock.

The girl's performance was saluted with a round of applause.

"See? I told you you could do it."

Unknown to them, someone else had seen the whole scene from afar. Yao smirked. This is what I expected from Hodor's daughter

A sudden noise of something ringing surprised everyone.

"Sorry," Caranya said as she retrieved her device to communicate with the Knight patrol, activating it. "Magus-Captain Caranya of Argos listening."

"This is Dame Éléonore, Captain. We found something I need to report immediately."

Jing had finished her daily checking of the scroll stockpile. Truthfully, it was more killing time than a task that needed to be done, no scrolls having been used between today and yesterday.

She sighed. This was going to be a long day.

"Something wrong?" the familiar voice of Black-Scales called out to her.

The young woman turned her head to give him a small nod. "You could say that. I think I've finished my tasks for today."

The Argonian crossed his arms over his chest. "I know what you mean. I was so happy to be back on the field for a special mission of that importance… and here we are." He gestured to where he had come from. "Marketplace is full you know, you could go check for yourself. I bought some gifts for my family plus one Necklace for Tuka." As his friend gave him a surprised look, he chuckled, "guess that kid kinda grew on me."

"I think I'm good," the Easterner declined.

"Your loss." He replied, taking the ring with the three amethystes to admire it. "Hey, Jing, can I ask you something?"

She glanced at the Nightblade, noticing the jewelry piece in his hand. Wasn't there something about a special ring with three amethysts?

"What's on your mind?" the Sorceress asked him.

"Do you actually believe the Gods act in very subtle ways to influence our lives?"

She raised a brow. "Is this a philosophical debate you're having about the ring you're holding?"

"Weeeell…"

"The Gods, Divines and even the Daedra, act in mysterious ways but don't confuse superstition for Faith."

"Mmmh," he gazed back at his ring, "Maybe it's a sign indeed," he grinned. "Marry me goddess."

She stopped, her face completely blank, though Black-Scales could have sworn he saw the shadow of a smile. "You're a few years too late, Cyrus already made that joke."

"He did, uh? Somehow I'm not surprised. Ah well, I tried." He put back the ring among his other belongings.

"You're seriously thinking of tying up the knot?" Jing questioned her scaly friend with an incredulous tone. "That doesn't sound like you."

The Nightblade stayed quiet, gazing at the horizon. "Yeah, you're kind of right, I consider myself too young and I don't think I found a suitable partner so far. I just need time. But when I saw this ring…" he slightly shook his head, "I don't know… it was as if it was obvious I was meant to have it." He shrugged. "Then again, that doesn't mean I'm the one who needs it. Who knows? Some of my siblings might bring a surprise when I'll be back home."

The Sorceress absently nodded at his suggestion while reminiscing about her own family. Aside from her sister, all of her siblings had long been married and sired several children.

"And what about you?" the Argonian suddenly asked. "Have you thought about it?"

As she shifted nervously instead of answering his question, he waved his hand. "Right, old aristocratic family and all that means. Forgive me for asking, I sometimes forget how complicated it must be."

"It's not that my parents would arrange a marriage for me, my eldest siblings being already wed into powerful Nibenese houses, but it has been a subject that has come up from time to time. And…" she emitted a heavy sigh, "I don't know. It's a complicated matter."

"Must be our age." He scratched his neck. "That and we are all single… except Azad and maybe Caranya."

"She's still with… what was his name again? That Altmer male… he had blue eyes I think?"

"Beats me. I haven't heard or seen them together since the end of the War. Cyrus would know something about it."

I guess he would, she thought.

"Hey, do you think he has it as bad as us? Playing a glorified bodyguard for a foreign princess… on one hand, it sounds like things might happen."

"Something might happen here too," she reminded him.

Fate decided to agree with her as Caranya telepathically called them.

"Battlemages, meet me at the barracks, something came up."

The Argonian grinned as he cracked his knuckles. "About damn time."

Caranya was still conversing with Éléonore when they arrived. The communications cut soon after that. She then turned towards her subordinates.

"Dame Éléonore just informed me they foiled an ambush. No wounded, thanks to the Gods."

"There's something more to it," Black-Scales stated. Else, the Altmer wouldn't have called them.

She nodded gravely. "Some of the would-be attackers wore distinctive tattoos, daedric symbols."

"Cultists," Jing said almost like a whisper.

"That's what they concluded too. The Knights will bring bodies to try to sort out their allegiance."

"What of the city and its outskirts?" The Sorceress asked. "We can't have another battle here."

"And I agree," the Battlemage officer answered, looking at a map of the region. "Our patrols didn't encounter them so they must either have formed recently or were concentrated in small areas. They have already proven hostile, we'll have to hunt them." She clenched her fist, and I'm short of one Battlemage at the moment.

"I will need to see with Centurion Marius and Lady Bozes how our current defenses fare after reporting to Tamriel for further instructions but if they were to be a threat…" she gazed at the Nightblade, "you're probably the only one I could spare at the moment to seek them out."

The Argonian's fist connected with his chest. "Of course ma'am!"

She acknowledged his answer with a brief nod before focusing on Jing. "I trust you know what is expected of you?"

"As the Outer Realms main expert of the team, yes. Consider me already working on it, ma'am."

"We might need Atronachs to reinforce our men, we can summon our own but do we have what it takes to make a few more?"

The Tharn girl held her chin to think about it. "We might have some ingredients here but I will need to check if we can use them to craft golems. I'll send you a report about it."

"Good, dismissed, Battlemages."

Ykalon, War Tent

Hector moved some pieces representing their forces on Falmart's map as the Emperor watched on.

"Italica's rear seems secure enough at the moment. We are kept informed of what's going on from the other side of the Rift and so far, nothing that would endanger our plan," the Imperial Battlemage stated.

Ivan gave him an appreciative nod. "Good, Basil has already been preparing his own legion should we need to deploy more men than the centuries already planned."

"With all your respect, is that really wise? I know how it's important for you two to lead the men but we're not talking about standard procedure here."

The Emperor cut him with a hand gesture. "If Attrebus Mede the First hadn't acted so rashly, the floating city of Umbriel would have never been destroyed and Cyrodiil might have never risen up again. Besides… The legions stationed in High Rock are mostly peace-keeping forces with little to no experience of actual war while Basil fought on the frontline. He has handpicked his soldiers personally."

The Tharn Patriarch relented before continuing. "Commander Sejanus Aelius has asked about the Flame Dragon. He believes the beast might become a hindrance to us if we don't take care of it."

"He might be right and its death might serve us more than he thinks. But we need to be sure the immediate region is daedra-free."

"According to recent reports from both Captains Alexios Marcius and Caranya of Argos, most of the warbands were small and dealt with swiftly. The attack on Italicas was an anomaly for its size it seems. Lately there have been reports of Daedra cultists surging however."

The Colovian groaned, passing his hand on his forehead out of annoyance. "Not the peaceful kind I suppose? What do we know so far?"

Hector shook his head. "Next to nothing I'm afraid. They were discovered today by patrol escorting the Princess' envoy to her father. Captain Caranya will look into the matter."

"Hopefully she'll find something. Her team is missing a member for now… once Battlemage Cyrus is back, I want them to meet with Captain Alexios' team to take care of that 'Dragon' with the Magus-Commander in support. It's close to the Kingdom of Elbe so it will give them more reasons to not treat us as hostile. Then we'll see with those cultists. What's going on in their capital?"

"Nothing noteworthy at the moment. Their Emperor seems unconcerned with the pro-Peace faction."

"What about our other teams?"

"Captain Erik Bjornson and his men have finally located the epicenter of the plague and are making their way towards it. Hopefully it's nothing serious and they can take care of it."

Ivan glanced back at the map before pointing to a pawn positioned on the Romaria Mountains. "What about Captain Za'Kir of Border Watch?"

Romaria Mountains, earlier that day

"Go!" a Dremora ordered a group of grotesque and frightening looking daedra.

They were about the size of an average Man, green-skinned, eyeless and their hands and feets only possessed each a pair of long clawed fingers.

These were the Vermai, a species of lesser daedra known for making up for their lack of intellect by their sheer aggressiveness and viciousness.

They charged the group of Battlemages, letting out a screech.

A small cat-like silhouette jumped in front of them. It was wearing a smaller replica of their armor with a red crested helmet. "Helena, take out the Dremora! I'll deal with these pests myself. The rest, cover me!"

"As you command, Captain."

The Battlemage dressed in Nightblade armor, Helena, suddenly vanished.

Za'Kir turned back to the oncoming Vermai, his two remaining subordinates circling him, having readied their staff.

The Alfiq's eyes turned light blue as he roared at the fiends. A blizzard coming from his mouth sweeped the fiends, encasing some of them in solid ice.

The Dremora cursed under his breath, taking a flaming sword from his sheath while he charged a spell in his other hand, ready to charge.

He didn't have time to move however as his head fell from his shoulders mere seconds after, the Nightblade materializing behind the headless body.

"I see," Ivan muttered. "These mountains are really Daedra infested."

"It's as if all the low life from Oblivion had jumped on the first opportunity to leave for this world when they became aware of the Rift, that way they would escape the clutches of the Daedric aristocracy," Hector added. He snorted. "I can't say I blame them."

The Emperor shook his head, glancing at the map before turning around, his back facing the other man. "This conflict, this war, it's all a smoke screen that hides the biggest picture. The quicker we solve it, the quicker we can find who opened the Rift on this side."

The Imperial Battlemage stroked his silver barb. "Giving what we learned so far… Someone went through a lot of trouble just for us to invade another plane. They wanted us to know, that means," he put his hand on the Falmart's map, "there's something out there they want us to find."

His liege froze in his tracks, turning back. "Could someone have already explored this plane in the past?"

"Perhaps the Mananauts might have. But that would require us to search for any of the remaining archives from the late First Era, assuming they didn't all burn during the Imperial Simulacrum when the Battlespire was almost destroyed by the Prince of Destruction."

"Mmh…" the Emperor's face morphed into a grin. "I guess it wouldn't be fun if it was easy. But I'm wondering… Why Ykalon? Is it because of its isolation?"

Hector stroked his beard before looking at an old map of the Illiac Bay. "Aside from their contribution to the war against the Camoran Usurper centuries ago… the barony was always in the shadow of Daggerfall even before they were annexed during the Warp of the West." His eyes suddenly widened. "Wait! Now I remember. There used to be an old Blade stronghold, the most important in the Illiac Bay. What was it called again… Castle something."

"The Blades? Here? Why didn't we investigate it?"

"It was already abandoned before even the Warp. I think the Underking was involved so no one would have dared to come back, not even after the Warp. His curse did remain for a while in Sancre Tor after all," the wizard recounted. "And the Blades, or what has officially resurfaced from them, have been busy in Skyrim trying to hunt down the Dragons. Poorly, I might add."

"They keep petitioning the High King to send men to help in their hunts," Ivan grumbled, clenching his fist. "Fortunately Balgruuf denied them. We don't need to waste more lives, especially given Dragon attacks have spectacularly dropped to zero. I guess they did their job before vanishing."

"Hey Rory, do you mind passing me the wrench over there?" Ghorshka asked the Apostle as she was under a Dwemeri Centurion, the backrest of her wheelchair lying completely horizontal to allow her to see. "It's the small tool between the hammer and the repair prong."

"This?" The demi-goddess replied hesitantly after she handed the orc some weird looking tool.

"Yes, that's the one. Thank you." She tested the nuts to see if they held good.

"So, what exactly do you do for them?" the other girl questioned. "You fix what is broken?"

"Nah. That's the Blacksmiths and Armorers' task. I'm an engineer, well an apprentice engineer, but I'm not actually a soldier." She turned her wrench slightly while talking. Stuff's a bit loose here. "I'm loosely affiliated with the Legion, I'm just here to deal with everything that is Dwemeri related, mostly our weapons, since unlike their original owners, we don't have factories to fix them, it's all manual. I wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place but things changed pretty quick."

"Right, you're an apprentice, I remember you mentioning it at the mess. You have a master. Where is he?"

"Still at the Imperial City, probably at the Arcane University. He's one of the best scholarly authorities in the Empire when it comes to Dwemer… unless you're a Telvanni, or a Dwemer ghost." Or from the Clockwork City

Arcane University, huh? Sounds like a cool place, the Apostle daydreamed. She shook her head. "You've been working with them for a long while?"

The young Orc paused for a while, trying to think before replying. "One year before the War, I think. Two or three years then. I was born in a stronghold in the Reach. The region is full of Dwemeri ruins, my master passed by our home when we first met." She patted the metal, proud of her work.

"Stronghold?" Rory questioned. "Your father was a soldier I take?"

Ghorshka raised her head to answer, only to hurt it against the centurion, forgetting what she was doing for a moment. "Aaah! Damnit!"

As the Apostle approached her, she waved her hand. "I'm fine! I'm fine."

She got out from under the automaton. "To answer your question, no, my father wasn't a soldier, he was a chieftain, the stronghold's." She advanced to where her other tools were, putting back the wrench back in place. "Given where you're from, I doubt you would know much about my kin, we're not a united people, never have been. We have our own Province, Orsinium, with a King, but the orcish strongholds, who exist all around Tamriel, don't swear allegiance to him, they consider themselves independent and follow the Code of Malacath." She briefly glanced at the sky. "According to the Code, only the chieftain can marry and sire children." Her hands fell on her legs. "Because I was born crippled, the Wise Woman told my father I was to be cared for until I was grown up enough to help at the Forge, the only thing I could do. That's where I learned everything, even tried to build myself a pair of metal legs once, didn't work of course. It was my home but I don't regret leaving it, honestly."

Rory patted her shoulder sympathetically. "I know the feeling."

The visit at the military prisoners camp was relatively short. Unlike previously, Piña only met with Regulus rather than with more Prisoners, due to measures around this camp being more strict, the Tribune being both the former Legatus second-in-command and the highest ranked surviving officer, barring Count Formal.

The young man, who had been surprised as much as Colt and Lady Sartorius to see her, recounted to her everything that had happened since being taken prisoner, including how the surrender had actually happened, which was a detail the Princess hadn't known until now taking notes about how invisible soldiers had planted traps.

While the soldiers were treated harsher than the camp followers, it was really luxurious by Saderan standards. The food wasn't infested, the camp seemed clean as well the prisoners, though some looked to have suffered a massive weight loss and their hair turning white. Apparently something related to the shock of the battle.

There wasn't much more she could ask though she informed him about the peace treaty to judge his reaction.

It took Regulus a moment to say anything. "So we are surrendering?"

Piña remained composed despite flinching interiorly. She had expected it. "No. We are recouping our losses because we have more pressing matters at hands. It is clear that sending more troops will only lead to bleeding our manpower dry when we need all the available soldiers."

"Forgive me, your Highness," the young man quickly said, "I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I've seen the walls around the Gate. Any assault from our part would at best conclude on a pyrrhic victory and that's if the odds are in our favor. I'm just actually surprised that anyone would sue for peace that fast."

"It's not a surrender," the redhead emphasized with strength on the last word. "We pay reparations with a material of the Nirnians' choice and in exchange they liberate the prisoners while we recognize each other's borders and integrity. You said it yourself, Tribune, we have nothing to gain from further continuing this war." Aside from the hawks' pride, she briefly thought. She mentally prayed for Hamiton to be successful in her mission.

"True. We do not exactly lose the war, rather it ends prematurely, which isn't a bad thing." He glanced at his hands. "Especially in our case."

Piña decided to shift the subject. "How are the men doing?"

"It's mixed. On the one hand, they're not happy to have been captured, obviously. Some are vehemently angered even though I was able to keep them in check from doing anything rash. But they're a minority and the rest are just patiently waiting. They don't like being prisoners but the conditions are not unbearable so they are just passing time. Then there's those whose mind was hurt by the fighting..." he winced.

He didn't need to say more. The Princess acknowledged his statement with a nod before getting up. "Tribune Regulus, I will ask you and your men to be patient. Know that I won't abandon you, I'm just asking you to wait a bit more till peace is finally achieved."

"Of course, your Highness!" the young man replied with an assured tone. "Your presence here means more than any speech."

She smiled. "Please, stay well. Sadera needs loyal soldiers like you."

When she got out of the meeting's tent, she noticed the night was beginning to fall.

"Was there anything else you needed to see, your Highness?" Mei asked her as they left the military prisoners' camp.

The redhead shook her head. "No but thank you, Lady Mei. I think that was all for today."

"Very well. I need to report to the Emperor. I leave you in the care of capable hands." She addressed Cyrus with a brief knowing look who immediately understood its hidden meaning. "You'll be joining the Imperial table tonight. In the meantime, you may wander the camp at your leisure."

The Councilor left soon after, teleporting in a flash of light to the Saderan ladies' stupefaction, leaving them with the Necromancer and their escort.

"I will never get used to it," Beefeater grumbled.

"The least we can say, it's practical," Piña commented with an awkward smile.

Cyrus stepped up, realizing a small bow before them. "Shall I lead you directly to your quarters or would you wish to wander around a little more?"

Piña thought about it. Truthfully, there was nothing for them to do at the moment, it was a military camp and thus not much else to see. On the other hand, taking a stroll would allow her mind to calmly reflect on today's events. Besides she could take the time to ask the young man questions if she needed it, his straight forwardness having been rather helpful so far. "I wish to walk a bit longer, if that isn't too much of a bother."

"As you desire, your Highness," he replied before turning back to instruct his fellow legionnaires.

The Princess remained quiet as they walked. Today had been eventful to say the least. She had directly met with the Emperor from the other world as well as his heir and daughter-in-law. She still wasn't sure what to think about them.

His Imperial Majesty Ivan was a Warrior Emperor, that much was clear. Being rather direct and straight to the point, she could easily see the difference between the Nibenese ambassador and the Colovian Emperor. His son… well aside from being quite charming and courteous, he apparently was already groomed to succeed his father. A wise move, it will lessen the risk of civil war. It heavily contrasted with Molt's own choices. While Zorzal was (technically) the primary heir, the Emperor had never officially prepared his son for his future duties, preferring to give him command over some legions and sending him on campaign to prove himself.

Then there was Prince Basil's consort, Princess Liliah, a demihuman. That had been a shock. Of course, Piña had known things were different in this world… but to imagine noble humans would marry demihumans, much less royalty and Imperial family? Would anyone have told her that a few days ago, the redhead would have laughed at the suggestion. But now? She was starting to reconsider a lot of things.

Prior to coming to Italica, the Princess had never given much thought about demihumans. They weren't her people and some of them were outright looking like monsters. For her, the Formal were simply fetishizing them under the covert of altruism. But upon coming to their city and meeting their staff, her vision had started to shatter. And now, with the Nirnians basically proving Count Formal's vision about uniting different races through civilization … Maybe things needed to change for them too.

She shook her head out from her thoughts and raised her head to look at the sky… only to suddenly freeze.

Beefeater immediately noticed it. "Princess, are you well?" she reached out.

The redhead didn't answer, barely moving at all and her friend followed her gaze, only to in turn become paralysed.

Cyrus, who had guessed what was the matter, raised his fist to order the legionnaires to stop before approaching the Saderan ladies. "I see you've noticed it," he said in his usual stoic tone as he observed the moons above them.

"Two… moons," the Princess muttered under her breath. "This is truly another world."

"The big reddish one is called Masser, the small white is Secunda, or Jode and Jone in the old tongue**."

She nodded at his explanation, gazing a bit more at the celestial bodies, an expression of wonder on her face, before composing herself. She had other matters to settle in priority than admiring an alien sky. Like the ceremonial gift she needed to present their Emperor.

Usually, on Falmart, visiting foreign dignitaries would come to the capital bringing copious amounts of gifts. Of course, the gifts were actually more tributes and the situation was different here. It was the first time Sadera actually met a peer power, the gift would change in consequence. Still, it didn't hurt asking.

"Sir Cyrus? May I require your assistance?"

"I'm listening, your Highness."

"This may be tricky," she warned him. "I was wondering, what kind of gifts are valued in your culture?"

He turned to look at her. She's asking me to counsel her in gifts?

"I'm sorry, poor choice of words," the young woman quickly corrected herself. "I meant what kind of gifts your Emperor usually receives. Ceremonial weapons?"

"Indeed, it's rather usual here"

"What about slaves? I imagine his Imperial Majesty must receive a Tribute from the Provinces. Do you know what it looks like?"

The Necromancer suddenly became quiet, simply gazing at her.

Piña didn't find it odd, merely thinking he was searching for his answer, until he spoke again.

"Follow me. There's something or rather someone you must see."

The redhead raised a brow at the request but complied nonetheless.

He led them to the temporary Chapel, before inviting the two noble ladies inside, their escort staying behind. They followed him, arriving before the statue of a young woman, dressed in a very exotic manner.

Her headdress had two bull horns tied to it while she was brandishing some kind of red diamond. Her face was interesting. It was youthful and yet showed a determined but caring, almost motherly, gaze. The remains of chains could be seen on her cuffs.

The statue was littered with offerings, mostly candles. Cyrus added one which he lit up, before kneeling and reciting a prayer in a tongue the two young women didn't understand.

"Sanctia Alessia, Cyrod mater est…"

When it was over, he got up, before gesturing to the deity. "I suppose you must be asking yourselves why did I make you come here?"

"Who is she?" Piña asked. "An important goddess to your people?"

"A deity for sure, but not a goddess." He then turned to face the statue. "I once told you our first ruler was an Empress."

The Princess' look of curiosity morphed into one of wonder.

"It is her. Al-Esh, Paravant, the Lady of Heaven, the First of the Dragonborn Emperors, the Mother of Cyrod…"

Most of these titles meant nothing to her and yet she was still enthralled by it. That woman had been deified and clearly meant a lot to Cyrus' people. She yearned to learn more about why.

"... Saint Alessia, the Slave-Queen," he concluded.

The two girls gaped.

"Slave-Queen?"

"Aye, your Highness," he nodded. "She was born a slave. And so were the rest of our people. Bred like rats to be used in some sick games created by the minds of twisted Sorcerer-Kings. But she overthrew them, creating the First Empire. Our Empire." He stopped briefly, grasping some kind of amulet around his neck. "To a Cyrod, slavery is anathema. It has been more than 200 years ago the practice was fully abolished in Tamriel."

Her eyes flashed with understanding. "So if I were to offer slaves to the Emperor…"

"You would be insulting our culture and the sacrifices made by our ancestors so long ago. And if you wonder what others think about the practice, Black Scales' own people have some words to say about it."

Now, that was truly alien for her. Tamriel didn't practice slavery and the Empire had even gone out of its way to stamp it out. Slavery hadn't been invented by Sadera in her world and was hardly a human only thing. What had been so terrible that the Cyrods had preferred doing away with it rather than simply enslaving their enemies? She had a lot more to uncover.

"I see. Could you take us back to our quarters?"

"No slavery," the Princess said with a grin as she gazed at Beefeater as she sat on a cushion, "wasn't it you who feared they were going to enslave Italica's people?"

"At the time, it was a real concern," her friend deflected, "we knew nothing about them. How could I have known they despised slavery?"

"You couldn't," the redhead recognized. "No one could have. But at least we avoided yet another diplomatic faux pas by talking about it to Sir Cyrus before we did anything." She sighed, "I wonder how it will affect us for the rest of our dealings with the Nirnians."

"Forgive us for the simplicity, Princess," Ivan said as the Imperial family, Piña and Beefeater sat around a long wooden table, "but luxury and military camps rarely go hand to hand."

Of course, that was more because in true Colovian fashion, Ivan despised it. The "Imperial table" wasn't even something that usually happened as he generally ate in company of his officers, a habit passed on from his father.

They had all traded their armor for more suitable clothes, Liliah was even wearing a Dunmeri silken dress that caught the eye of the Saderan ladies.

"It is no trouble, your Imperial Majesty," the redhead replied after taking a bite from her plate. The food was hardly comparable to what she had at Italica but then again it was a military camp. "As the leader of the Knight of the Rose, I know full well what you mean."

"My love, would you like some wine?" Basil proposed to his wife who slightly nodded. He then turned to the foreign dignitaries. "What about you, Princess Piña, Lady Beefeater? Would you like some too? It is a local variety, I would recommend it."

As she tasted the beverage, the redhead found out he wasn't lying at all. This was a very fine wine indeed and as an Imperial Princess, she had drunk some of the best from all over Falmart.

"If there is one thing Bretons are good at, it is truly their wine and food," the Emperor commented. He turned back to Piña. "How is your visit coming along?"

"Nicely," she replied after gently wiping out her mouth with her napkin. "I have seen what I needed to, your people have proven trustworthy."

He nodded at her words. "Very well, I'm glad you are thinking so. But a military camp is hardly the place to have a clear picture of our people, wouldn't you think?"

The rest of the table looked at him, wondering where he was coming from.

"Since you're here, why not visit one of our cities before going back to your world? That way you'll get a better picture from our people."

The Princess' smile widened. "Gladly. I would lie if I wasn't curious to see at least one."

"It's settled then. Tomorrow we will send you to the capital of the Kingdom we are currently in, Daggerfall. It's not the Imperial City but it has its charm, I can assure you."

Cyrus ate with his fellow Battlemages. A few pressed him on questions about what he saw on the other side of the Gate, which he answered.

As he was making his way towards his tent, he caught sight of a familiar face stargazing.

"Cyrus," Rory stated without turning her head.

"Rory"

There were a few floating seconds before the Necromancer cleared his throat. "I wish to apologize for my behavior at lunch. I shouldn't have left like that but I needed a breath of fresh air."

You call going to "train" a breath of fresh air? the Apostle wondered.

"It's fine," she replied, finally looking at him. "I shouldn't have asked such a personal question."

He sat on the grass next to her, taking his helmet off. Much to her surprise, he sighed. "It's complicated. Lot of things happened and…"

She stared at him, waiting for the young man to continue.

"There was a war, not long ago."

"Here?"

He nodded. "Yes. I had barely joined the Legion." He unconsciously touched his chest. "I was sent deep into enemy territory to link with a rebel cell. I met a girl there, a fiery spirited huntress."

It didn't take longer for her to realize what he meant. "Oh"

"Yes," he confirmed. He showed her fangs. "Those? That was a gift from her according to a local custom."

"What happened? Did she…"

"Die? No, she's well and alive but like I said, it's complicated. I don't even know what I am supposed to do anymore. It's a mess and unlike many things, I can't leave it behind."

"I wish I could help," the demi-goddess said, "Emroy governs love after all, but I don't know how."

Cyrus shook his head. "It's something I need to sort on my own. I started it, I will face it, eventually."

A few minutes of silence passed before Rory spoke again. "Cyrus… there's something I need to tell you."

"I'm listening."

"You were right, all of you. I do know Hardy more personally than what I told you so far." She started to shiver. "She's… terrifying. In spite of having ascended to godhood and lost a physical body, she still kept her lust for women. I've heard she even has an entire collection of amazon souls."

He held his breath. She doesn't mean...

"And she's been chasing after me for… I don't know how long. Recently, she managed to blackmail Emroy into setting up a date with me where I had no say in this. That's why I fled here, it was childish but…"

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She raised her gaze to see Cyrus looking at her.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have gone through that." Her body is still that of a child. This is monstrous

She smiled. "Thank you." She turned back to the night sky. "Hey, could you tell me about those stars above us? They look so different from the ones I know."

"Of course," he pointed to one of the constellations. "This one is known as the Warrior, it's one of the three guardians Constellations," he gestured to two others, "with the Mage and the Thief. Each of them protects three charges." He continued, detailing each of the twelve constellations and their characteristics, much to the girl's amazement.

The Battlemage suddenly felt something against his shoulder. He turned around to see Rory who had fallen asleep at some point. "Guess even Apostles can be tired." He delicately carried her in his arms to her tent and put her in bed. He gazed at the sleeping figure. Black-Scales was right, he mused, she really looks like a cute little girl, as fragile as a porcelain doll.

"Goodnight, may the Gods grant you good dreams"

* Wizard, Master-Wizard, Archmage : the informal ranking system Caranya used is actually based on the one belonging to the Mages Guild. However, it should be noted that when she means Archmage, she doesn't refer to the likes of Hannibal Traven or Savos Aren but Shalidor, Gauldur, Divayth Fyr and so on. By these metrics, a Master-Wizard would be referring to someone like Neloth, a very powerful mage but not the absolute pinnacle. Thus a Wizard here really means a confirmed mage who is really good at magic without being that strong.

** old tongue : Ehlnofex, Jode : Big Moon God, Jone : Little Moon God