Liu Bei's return to consciousness was slow in coming. Sensations return before active thought, the deep rumble of the Jin Su's powerful steam engine a constant hum that passed through him and spoke of constant movement. The air was heavy with the scent of deep-sea Typhoons.
We're moving, Bei thought sluggishly.
Opening his leaden eyes with effort, he saw he was in the ship's hospital, again. Groaning, he sat up on the padded bed. He was so tired.
"Ah, my Prince." A cultured voice sounded from the open doorway. Bei knew that voice. The Jin Su's head of healers, Cheng Tu, he thought.
Turning his head, he saw the man approaching with a swift stride. Bei was suddenly accosted with a slew of tests. "Hm, the Ninvay woman wasn't lying. Good news, Prince Bei. You've survived an attempted poisoning by the grace of a Ninvay-in-exile."
"Huh?" Bei replied, "Poisoned?" He thought back, remembering the end of the meeting in the heart of the Vigilant Isles. Shan and the Captain had brokered some deal involving the ship's library. A clerk, surprised to see them leaving, bringing refreshments. Bei groaned, "I was an idiot. A clerk was coming back with water as we were leaving, and I had some."
"Yes, you were." Healer Tu told him, "Weren't you warned?"
Bei laughed, "My father always did tell me never to accept food or drink from strangers."
Tu slapped him.
Bei looked dumbly at the livid healer, stunned.
"This isn't your palace, Bei." Tu poked a bony finger into Bei's ribs, making him flinch back. "People don't see a young man, they see the son of a tyrant and despot. Anyone who would strike at your father will gladly take the chance to kill you, and you want to make their wishes easier?"
Leaning back, Bei tried to defend himself. "They didn't have to poison the water!"
Tu sneered at him, pushing the advantage. "You didn't have to drink it. You were extremely fortunate Shan had enough skill with healing to save your life. A few minutes more and even I could not have saved you! I cannot heal death, as you well know."
Bei deflated. Healer Tu wasn't wrong. No, rather, Tu was right. Bei hadn't been thinking straight and made a serious mistake. "How long was I asleep?"
"Eight days," Tu told him, standing straight and pulling his burgundy vest taught. "As it is, you're in good health. A day of bedrest more to regain your strength and you'll be set right."
His arms and legs felt like jelly. "I don't think I can stand."
Tu nodded, "Then don't. You've not had a full meal in a while. I'll see you have some warm broth now that you can feed yourself."
"That sounds great, actually." Bei admitted, feeling a pang of hunger as his stomach began waking. "Were we able to resupply?"
Grimacing, Healer Tu shook his head. "No. Shortly after you were brought aboard, another Ninvay came to the docks at the head of a column of soldiers. He declared we were to leave immediately and never return. He and Shan fought, Shan lost, and the Captain gave the order to depart."
"Huh." Bei tried to imagine it, Shan and an unnamed man squaring off in a dueling circle. The idea of someone so unassuming as Shan fighting just didn't form fully. She reminded Bei of Mai, seeming to be born unsuited for honorable combat.
He banished the thought with a shake of his head, "Do you know how the supplies are looking, then?"
Healer Tu nodded, pointing at a sealed scroll sitting on the bedside table. "Captain Heijo made sure to have your morning reports delivered."
Bei reached over, untwisting the lid to the scroll's canister, then retrieving and unrolling the scroll. He read quickly, wincing as he read the status of the fuel bunkers. "Damn. We don't have enough fuel." Bei was dead certain of it, long hours pouring over his Father's reports when he was younger leaving hard earned skills deeply ingrained. "Tu, do you know how many Spinners we have among the fleet?"
The healer thought, frowned, shook his head. "Somewhere between forty and seventy, Prince Bei. Why?"
"You know, one of our greatest advantages was the great surfeit of Spinners. Father's work, but it might help us here. The records of the early war indicate it was fairly common practice for the Navy's Spinners and firecallers to supplement limited fuel stores for the early steamers. We can do that here, extend our range until we make landfall. Hopefully, at a port."
"I'll make sure to tell the Captain," Healer Tu said dryly, "I'd be surprised if he hadn't considered that. I don't relish the thought of keeping the boiler hot."
Bei reclined, nodding. "Nor do I, Healer. So, about that broth you mentioned?"
Tu nodded, "I'll send for it. If you need anything else, the bell is on the table." With that, the healer swept out of the room.
He held up the scroll, rereading it again. It wasn't a desperate situation, not yet. They'd stuffed each vessel in the fleet as full as they could with whatever they could bully the Imperial Provisioning Service into providing, but that did not include filling improvised fuel bunkers.
Efficient as these latest vessels were, they could only travel so far without refueling. On paper, each ship should be able to make the Carcosa-Leng Ma circuit, or a one-way transit from Carcosa to Qarth, on a full load. The distance worked out to something near two and a half thousand leagues.
A sevant entered the room, carrying a covered tray. He set it down the the bedside table, setting the lid aside to reveal a bowl of steaming broth and a spoon. Bei ate slowly and steadily as he read and thought, ignorant to the servant leaving the room.
The Vigilant Isles were about a thousand leagues away from Carcosa, though they'd taken a more circuitous course cutting south towards Leng at first. The fleet another week before they were forced to start burning anything flammable. After that, they'd be limited to whatever the specialists could personally maintain.
They'd slow considerably until they found fuel, but they could continue as long as they had rations.
Three and a half thousand leagues was the most optimistic estimate they had regarding the distance to the western shores of Westeros. A vast stretch of unknown territory, and-
The world changed between moments.
Bei was standing in a peculiar room, occupied by peculiar people. People he recognized from previous visions, he believed, and new ones besides.
The furnishings were sparse, decoration practically nonexistent. The room was longer than it was wide, one wall dedicated to a window that overlooked a crowded square, the rest unpainted wood. A long table dominated the room, with not nearly enough chairs for all the occupants.
On the table was a familiar sword doing very unfamiliar things. Bei came closer, leaning in. It seemed to be coated in a translucent flame, or something of the like.
Mai stood near to the sword, flanked by those two women that seemed to accompany her often, an island of stability in the chaos of the room.
Voices were raised, angry gestures at Bei's sister and his sword. Their tongue was cruel and gutteral to his ears, yet there seemed to be a few calmer heads in the crowd, men Bei recognized from visions of earlier times.
Looking back out the window and ignoring the incensed crowd, Bei tried to date the vision. The archictecture seemed to be early, and yes, there were still those old buildings by that large carved tree. The wooden hall was intact, though already bearing some of the distinctive scars he'd noted in past, future, visions.
Bei's head hurt, but he pushed past it. Most of his visions had taken place after the hall had been built.
Try as he might, he still didn't understand anything about this gift. One vision might take place in the far future, things all glittering and bright and beyond Bei's comprehension, and another might be of a simple village in the snow.
This was comprehensible, to a degree. Turning his attention back to the crowded room, he found it to have quieted. A well-groomed fellow in the high-quality garb that Bei had learned to associate with those with power was speaking quietly, gesturing to Mai and the sword.
His words seemed to have some effect on the others, livid faces cooling to mere anger. Bei was unsurprised to see a great deal of fear, the same fear he'd seen on hard-worn soldiers and peasant boys alike realizing they faced a Spinner on the field of battle.
He watched as a good number of the men and women leave the room. Some spat at Mai or the sword, others cursed quietly, and still others bore a quiet fear. It was by no means a unified group.
His sister was strong, in her own way. Bei hadn't thought she had it in her to face down a room full of angry men, yet she stood there with feathers unruffled.
Frowning, Bei remembered the long years she'd fretted over those. Why was she wearing them so brazenly now? She would continue to do so, he knew, but the incongruency sent him mentally fumbling for answers.
Shaking his head, he tried to square the two. Could she have truly grown so much in only a few months? Looking back at his own flight from their father, Bei probably wouldn't recognize who he had become, either.
The sword was being put away, Bei realized with a start. He watched his sister tie it at her belt, like it was a mere sidearm. Bristling, he squashed the impulse to correct her, so she could have her retainers carry it, as was proper. He couldn't interact with his visions no matter how he tried.
Something strange happened, then. It was as if the vision was speeding up, moving through time far faster than it should, yet the environment outside the window was fine.
The people in the room blurred, the whole crowd smearing into suggestions of movement and dialogue. The oddity continued until the vision ended, Bei blinking in the sunlight filtering through the portholes.
That speed, Bei realized, explained so much of how that little riverside village had changed, would continue to change, so greatly. Remembering the glimmering future, Bei tried to keep his eagerness under control.
Ringing the bell on the bedside table, he only had to wait a moment before one of Tu's healers entered. Bei sent her off to bring him writing materials, pleased by her prompt return a few minutes later.
Dismissing her, he set to work noting down the vision. He'd re-scribe this for his journal later, but he needed to get it out. Compulsion, Heijo had likened it to, and Bei couldn't disagree as his hands wrote and sketched beyond his control.
Now, if only he'd have a vision of something useful, like the fleet finding somewhere to resupply safely.
***
Herrick felt the meeting was fairly productive, even with the harsh start. Time was moving at its regular pace once more, most of the newcomers stumbling with the transition to normality.
Plucking at the long collars of his coat, Herrick was content to observe the varied reactions. The initial shock and horror had long since faded, he thought, especially after those hardest hit had left the room. He was inordinately pleased to see that most wore thoughtful expressions, the same he'd seen on those who took to Maia's madness more easily than most.
Learning that magic still walked the world had been a moment of realization for Herrick. He'd spent long years honing his craft, caring for tools he could ill-afford to lose, and then in a single afternoon, all his prior experience was rendered meaningless by a girl who worked with wood as easily as she breathed. All he could do then was laugh as the underpinnings of his understanding fell apart and a new world opened before his eyes.
Since then, he'd learned more than he'd ever imagined he might. Compared to all of that, learning that the sword she'd carried all this time had a spirit bound within was not so great. Why should he fear a talking sword, when the bearer would never harm him?
In hindsight, the escalation in her personal abilities over the last few months should be utterly terrifying. He imagined his brother gaining such powers, then banished the idea, horrified. No, if she'd tried to conceal anything, maybe then he'd understand the fear others felt.
But she hadn't, not once. She'd been cautious about some topics, speaking around some other things, but if asked, she'd explain exactly what was happening. All the newcomers needed, Herrick felt, was time to understand that.
A soft touch on his shoulder brought Herrick out of his reverie. Maia stood next to him, poking him to get his attention.
"Herrick," She said, "How do you feel about the Knight? Broadly speaking."
"The Knight?" Queer question, but not unexpected. Once the new administrative schema had been brokered between the leaders still present, the conversation had shifted towards matters of defense, as it tended to lately.
"I don't know enough about it to have an informed opinion," Herrick told her with complete honesty. "The one time it was used, it was disabled. A shield that breaks after a single battle seems a poor shield indeed."
Maia winced, "That was entirely my fault. I'd neglected properly training with it."
"You mentioned recruiting potential pilots today," He observed, "Tested through a simulator onboard the machine?"
She nodded, "Exactly that. I want others to be able to operate it, and people who can fix it without my direct intervention. Maybe even improve it."
"Improve it?" Herrick asked faintly, "It's a towering suit of armor built with technology I know just enough about to say it's entirely madness to want to… How would we make the parts? This, this is far beyond a simple blast furnace, Maia."
"We'd need the tools to make the tools to make the tools," She agreed without a beat, "And the resources, and most importantly, the expertise." Chewing her lip uncertainly, "I want you to help me with it."
Herrick guffawed, drawing the attention of the remainder of the room. "Me, help you?"
"I'll teach you, build the tools we need to start, but I want you to head the team we put together to handle these extreme technologies." Gesturing out the window at the crowded plaza below where several cultures intermingled, "The Knight protected us once, and I'm terrified we're going to need it again. More of them. More Armored Cores."
Thinking the proposition through, he did have confidence that Maia could train him in what he needed to know, and if anyone could supply the resources, it was her.
Herrick and Symon had trudged out to the hillock of iron-bearing stone Maia had reportedly brought to the surface, and he could remember the shock on the Crow's face when they'd found it. A mine built on a deposit of that size would have kept a Southron house wealthy for generations.
If she can do that, she can get the rest of what they needed.
Mind made up, he nodded and grasped her wrist. "I'll do whatever you need me to."
She held his arm tightly in return.
"You won't let me down."
Releasing him, "Meet me in the hangar in an hour."
Herrick nodded, faintly surprised at his own acceptance.
Maia turned to go, her constant companions following her out of the room as she engaged Able in conversation. What had Symon called Ygdis and Grenwin? Ladies-in-waiting? Something to do with a noblewoman's personal retinue.
Frowning, Herrick supposed it didn't matter. None of them were nobility, not like what Symon is used to. Leaving the room, he made his way out of the building, stopping by Lom's kitchen for a heel of birchbark bread and a bowl of chicken soup, then on to the hangar to wait.
Taking one of the multitude of empty wooden crates for the coming harvest, he sat and ate and thought deeply while he waited.