The large, oaken door slid to a close behind him, shutting him in with the council. Dullahan's even, measured steps brought him before three seated parties- representatives of their respective nations, he assumed. One of them wore clothes that he was all-too-familiar with by now; the full ceremonial plate of an officer, the crest of Alistel engraved into an ornate, scarf clasp. He knew this man's face from artisans' images of him all across the mechanical city; he was Prime Minister Raul.

The man on Raul's left dressed quite similarly as Dullahan did; a large cloak, a bandana across his head- signs of a desert traveller, dark and brooding. What the Cygnan representative held underneath his cloak, however, was largely different; Dullahan spotted a minimum of three knives.

Across from the Cygnan representative was an entirely opposite image: an adult woman stood next to a young girl, flipping through the papers on her behalf. The girl's eyes were glued to him. The most noteable trait about the two ladies were the fact that they had horns on their heads, and pointed ears.

Beastkind.

"Greetings to you, Prime Minister. You have my apologies for the trouble." Dullahan bowed his head slightly, addressing only the man at the center stage. Address the council chairman. Appease him; he has the casting vote.

Raul's hand made a swatting movement, as if to dismiss the trouble. "It's alright. Quite a good thing, actually! You're helping us kill time while Granorg's representatives arrive," the governor said cheerfully. "Hope you don't mind, having to entertain this old git." His Cygnan counterpart was unentertained, his piercing gaze threatening to debunk any lies Dullahan may come up with.

He could tell I wasn't one of them.

"So... Before you begin, I'm obliged to let you know we've been through your possessions," Raul started, clasping his hands together on the desk. "And we have some questions that we think you might care to answer first."

Dullahan watched as Raul bent sideways to retrieve a few objects, setting them gently on the table. Dullahan pretended to peer in and get a closer look, but he knew those objects all too well; travelling cheques, copper mints, a few rare silver, and guild recommendation letters. His home currencies.

The other object, however, was not familiar to him until recently, but retrospectively, may have been the source of all of his misfortune.

The black book.

As Dullahan's mind raced for a plausible response, he heard the creaking of chairs and the unsheathing of blades. "Do think carefully about your answer, Mr. Dullahan- or we may have to kill you."

Aht had told Raul and Garland earlier about the peculiar nature of their new prisoner, but they hadn't paid much heed to it. After all, they were all busy with preparing for Eru- Queen Eruca's arrival; their attention span had been filled with complicated things like logistics, management, and other stuff that humans seem to make a fuss about. Like ale and banquets and whatnot.

Slipping away from Elm's watchful eye as she was distracted, Aht managed to sneak into the dungeons to take a look- and the cute little human guard let her in!- and confirm her suspicions first-hand.

She wiped at her eyes, as if expecting her eyesight to have gone wrong. Vainqueur is a world governed by Mana, Aht reminded herself. Everything- everything has it. Rocks, trees, people. Everything.

But the unconscious prisoner had no Mana. No flow, no signs of blockage or restrictions, either; just... no Mana.

A living human that did not turn to sand even if his Mana had been depleted.

... What are you?

Aht took a step back, head spinning with the new revelations. She turned and ran back upstairs.

Elm. I've gotta tell Elm.

Things moved surprisingly quicker after Aht alerted Elm, and they managed to convince Raul to look through the prisoner's belongings.

There was nothing out of the ordinary with his weapon- a simple bow, standard-issue and available for purchase from one of the local smithies in Alistel. The map was also a mass-produced one, available off the shelf from any well-stocked grocer.

Everything else was a confusing mess.

First was his money. There were a few Alistellan coins, but many were of an unknown source. The heraldries did not even bear the markings of the Vainqueur Alliance's new, proposed prototype mint.

The second was a different map entirely- one that did not depict Vainqueur. They shared the same symbolic conventions as Vainqueur's maps, but none of the names of towns, villages, and cities, rang any bell with the Satyros, nor the Prime Minister.

Third was the Black Chronicle.

Dullahan took a deep breath, willing his headache to go away. Though the Satyros woman's blade was drawn, and the Cygnan representative looked eager to draw blood, they were held back by the sheer need for more information out of him.

In his short lifetime of twenty-nine years, he had attended court occasions for the last four years before his betrayal- and managing stressful relations was one of the things he unfortunately picked up all too well.

"... Let's exchange intelligence," Dullahan began, his eyes trained onto Raul- nobody else in the room mattered. Persuade the leader, and the rest will follow. Raul shrugged, indicating that he was listening. The blades, however, did not lower. No surprises there.

"I am Dullahan. I was a knight serving Lord Spencer in the Solstice Wars in Alanborough," the blond eyed their responses, making no sudden movements as he spoke. Raul frowned visibly; the Cygnan snorted in disbelief; and the ladies patiently waited for him to continue. "... But I'm assuming that means nothing to you."

A nod in confirmation from Raul across the room, and Dullahan continued.

"I discovered the book in a crown-sponsored dig. The next thing I knew, I was here. This was three weeks ago." He paused. "If this book has any significance to you, then I know none of it."

"And you're implying you know nothing about Vainqueur? That's absurd!" the older Satyros hissed with malice. Dullahan looked at her briefly.

"I'm expressing it, good lady."

The little girl- commanding a surprisingly unyielding authority- raised a hand in front of her assistant, and became the only thing stopping the older Satyros from cutting him down. While he had no knowledge in Satyros hierarchy, he saw that they bore similarity with other tribes of his homeland; she was likely a revered spiritual leader amongst a superstitious community.

He turned his attention back to Raul. "I know no one on this continent. I have no witnesses or accounts as to my credibility. And if you really need to know my motive for crossing the borders into Granorg..." he paused. Should he get Raynie and Marco involved? Probably not.

"... I heard that they have an extensive library, which meant there's a higher chance of me finding a way home. I'm just a lost man, nothing more.

To believe my tales or not, however, is entirely your call, Prime Minister."

Dullahan made no move to back down from his stare with the Alistellan head. To back down was to imply that he was lying; and that would've meant death.

The little girl raised herself from her chair out of the corner of his eyes- and he could almost feel her eyes boring into his soul. She moved her lips.

"So... What are you? Do you have an answer?"

Dullahan could not help but smile at the question, and recognising the source of the mysterious voice. "I'm only human, child."

It took Raul a while to consider and accept his offer, but Dullahan was thankful that he did. The moment the Prime Minister laid down the ground rules of no violence, the Cygnan and Celestians sheathed their blades, and quietly settled down... much to Dullahan's relief.

They took the next few hours sharing information on the two realms, and Dullahan was now in greater clarity of the situation he was in than before. The Sand Fortress summit was called in order to further discussions on what transpired upon the conclusion of the war, three years ago in Vainqueur.

Mana, as a concept, was now being painstakingly explained to him by the little lady- Aht. As far as Dullahan was concerned, there was no such thing as Mana back home. Dullahan's skeptic nature reared its ugly head as he folded his arms before him, trying hard to give the concept a benefit of doubt. Aht's helpful lecture came with small demonstrations on mid-air combustion and other trinkets, however; and that, in turn, made him consider whether they were sharing the same world at all. Just what sorcery was this? (to which, the little lady replied, was essentially sorcery.)

The existence of this element of Mana in Vainqueur was possibly the main reason behind all of the technological disparities he noted, which were far beyond what his own civilisation could offer to their own people.

Raul's diplomatic nature could be seen from the way he kept Dullahan's belongings out of reach, combined with his constant engagement with Dullahan to keep him distracted- was, Dullahan admitted, one of the finest ways to keep a man rooted in negotiations.

One bit of lore that interested Dullahan, however, was on the desertification. There was a minor scuffle that had broken out on the topic; when Aht was stomping her foot on the ground, trying to convince Raul to stop the use of thaumatech completely. Raul- and surprisingly, the Cygnan- had argued that thaumatech was their way of life, in light of the harsh weather conditions that Alistel and Cygnus were situated in. Where Alistel focused on keeping its hearths warm, Cygnus was using the same technology for aqueducts, mills, and keeping the weather bearable for its citizens.

Dullahan also picked up from the scuffle the sense of ego that Alistel clung to- the idea that thaumatech was the identity of the nation- was one of the major things stopping them from abandoning the technology. Well, that, and…

"We're not asking for much, Aht," Raul said, exasperated by the subject topic. Dullahan guessed that they must have had similar conversations in the past, but to no known resolution. "Just provide us with undeniable proof that thaumachine's part of the problem, and we'll work on resolving it. You can't just order us to stop for no apparent reason."

Aht fumed. "I'm telling you the reason right now! It's thaumatech! The ore! You remove it from the earth, you rob it of Mana! Desertification! Simple!" The little girl bit her lip. Dullahan could tell she was upset, but as to the full extent why she was upset, he had not a clue.

"You're putting Granorg's preservation efforts to waste, humans," the woman said, her gaze stopping briefly on every human in the room- Dullahan included. "Queen Eruca painstakingly stopped signs of desertification from worsening three years ago, and you essentially restarted the entire process. And now you're demanding for evidence before you act? You humans are absurd."

The Cygnan scowled at the Satyros's remark, not impressed by the condescending way the situation was being phrased. "Elm. We've already talked about this." The man's voice was deep, the tone verberating through the enclosed room. "Prove it to us, and we'll stop using thaumatech. You can't expect both Alistel and Cygnus to drop support for our citizens."

"Which also raises the question- what did Granorg do? If it was really that miraculous, I propose for Granorg- and Celestia, for that matter- to release more information on this anti-desertification effort to the Alliance. It's better for us to be in the loop as well to help out, no?" Raul added, eyeing the two Satyros, who had grown oddly quiet on the subject.

Ah. The Event that the Alistellan taverns were abuzz about.

"So, what is the Event?" Dullahan inquired, genuinely curious. He threw a glance at the Satyros, and they immediately avoided his eye contact. He raised an eyebrow. "We don't know for sure," Raul voiced, his slight irritation at the subject showing, "Granorg has been very tight-lipped about it. That's what we've been working on."

"While the continent wastes away? I see that you are very efficient."

"We try."

The conversation moved on. The general consensus between the nations was that the desertification was a natural occurrence, and the rediscovery of certain plants acting as Mana fertilisers for the soil were currently being focused on as a field of heavily invested research. Dullahan eyed the Satyros duo again. ... They were being awfully quiet, leaving the Cygnan and the Allistellan motormouth to speak on their behalf on the subject.

What had Marco said again?

"Currently there are two factions within the Alliance, so we Alistel are in agreement with Cygnus, and Celestia is siding with Granorg," Marco noted.

"... Speaking of which, where is the Granorgnite representative?" Dullahan opined off-handedly, which paused all the debates happening in the room.

"Is the queen going to skip this summit, too?" the Cygnan spat. "This alliance is never going to last the 50 years, Raul. Mark my words."

If you have 50 years, gentlemen, Dullahan noted, realising then that the biggest threat to Vainqueur wasn't the desertification- but the nations' collective passivism and inaction to resolve the desertification.