The Ravenous Crown

by StotheR

Nia never thought that she would sit on a throne, nor has she ever wanted to, but fate has a funny way of making a mockery of what she wants. The soon to be crowned Queen Nia will be tested in ways she never has been before, both from external forces and from the turmoil in her own soul.

Nia did not know what time it was when she received the summons, only that the hour was late. Most of her nights were late now, thanks to what felt like endless royal duties, and while she was not yet queen, that day was soon to come—and with it, even more work. Deciding that she was finished working for the day, Nia rose from her desk, pausing by the window to look out onto the sleeping city of Fonsa Myma, its expanse spreading out below the palace. No matter how many times she looked at it, she never quite got used to the crushing weight that accompanied the sight.

The clearing of a throat followed by the familiar address of, "My lady," drew Nia from her thoughts, and she turned to see her oldest and most faithful companion standing in the doorframe of her chambers.

"I'm about to turn in, Dromarch. What is it?" she asked, not making much effort to hide her grumpy tone.

"Dagen is here. He says that the queen has summoned you to her chambers."

"This late? She knows I need to be up in a few hours, doesn't she?" Nia didn't know exactly what time it was, but she knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Again.

The regal white tiger had a serious look on his feline face. "Apparently it's quite urgent."

Nia had half a mind to tell Dromarch that whatever the queen wanted could wait until morning, but she had a sinking feeling in her core that by then it would be too late.

"Alright, don't get your kecks twisted," Nia said, tying her robes and taking a quick look in the mirror to make sure that she didn't look as burnt out as she felt. Her silver hair and feline ears weren't terribly matted, and her eyebags more or less blended in with the shadows in the dim light. Screw it. Good enough.

Nia walked into the main chamber of the palace suite she shared with Dromarch where Dagen, one of the queen's oldest and most faithful attendants, stood waiting. He regarded her with a solemn nod; more evidence to what Nia suspected was going to happen tonight.

"Shall I accompany you, my lady?" Dromarch asked.

Judging by the fact that Dromarch was wearing his nightcap, it seemed that he too was about to turn in when the queen sent for her.

"I'll be fine, Dromarch. You just get some rest. We'll talk in the morning," Nia half-commented around a yawn. She was pretty sure she knew how the coming conversation was going to go, and that the queen wouldn't want anyone else around for it. With a grateful nod, Dromarch turned to retire to his own chambers while Nia followed Dagen.

The trip through the halls of the palace was a silent one. Nia could have asked Dagen about his wife or son, but she knew that no amount of small talk was going to remove the dark cloud hanging over them both. Soon they arrived at the door to the queen's chambers, and after dismissing Dagen, Nia was let in by the two members of the Queensguard.

The queen's chambers looked as grand as they always did, with shelves of books lining the circular walls converging on a hearth bigger than Nia herself. A table by the hearth displayed a scale model of the World Tree, around which circled miniature versions of all of the Titans of Alrest. A clockwork mechanism within the table simulated in real-time the Titans' annual journey around the now nonexistent Cloud Sea. It was always interesting to see what Alrest would look like if it still existed in its original form, except that the mechanism responsible for moving the Urayan Titan along its orbit had broken some months ago, making the replica Titan seem lost and adrift.

All of this couldn't be further from Nia's mind as she ascended the stairs to the queen's bedchamber. The bed at the chamber's centre was just as big and grand as the rest of the royal chambers. The only part of the room that seemed small was the bed's occupant.

Queen Raqura Selosia lay still amidst the satin blankets hooked up to medical machines cycling ether through her body. Her once portly form was shrunken, her skin and scales pale and wrinkled from the disease slowly eating away at her. The sight was uncomfortably familiar to Nia, and as she stepped closer, she had to dispel the mental image of a much younger Gormotti girl in the queen's place. Such memories would not serve Nia here.

Lately, the queen had more bad days than good: Often Nia would come to visit and the queen wouldn't recognize her, addressing Nia as Raddis—the name of her dead son. On her worst days she was confused and angry and would simply curse her out. Nia wasn't sure which one was worse.

But for now, she stood by the queen's bedside, waiting to see which version of Raqura she would get tonight. Would it be tormentor or tormented? Would the queen be haunted by fading memories of the past, or taken by the inanities the disease caused as it buffeted her mind?

"Was beginning to think you weren't going to show tonight," the queen said weakly. "Once you're asleep, nothing short of a second Aegis War's enough to wake you."

Relieved that the queen was herself, at least tonight, Nia couldn't help but smile a little. Even when Raqura was healthy, it was rare to get a glimpse of the humorous woman behind the regal mask she wore.

"So what, did you summon me here to take the mick out of my sleeping habits?" Nia said, trying to keep the tone of the conversation light for as long as she could.

"I have a feeling you know why I summoned you here tonight," Raqura said before being cut off by a rasping, wheezing cough. Nia knew, but still waited for her to say it. "I feel myself fading. I think the next time I close my eyes… will be the last."

"Nonsense—sounds like quitter talk to me." Nia then added with a grin, "I bet in this state you could've taken on Malos single-handedly!" She was satisfied when her joke elicited a genuine laugh from the queen, but her satisfaction was short-lived when the queen's laugh gave way to another wheezing cough.

"Your humour does you credit, Nia," Raqura said when her coughing fit subsided. "But I can tell when you're using it to avoid an unpleasant discussion."

Nia's grin vanished. "I don't think I'm ready for this, Your Majesty."

"I was nearly twice your age when I first ascended the throne. I didn't think I was ready either."

Nia fidgeted with the tassels of her robes. "I just… wish there was more time."

"So does everyone in the face of an uncertain future. I think it's human nature to want time to stop in such moments." Raqura's face then hardened, and for a moment Nia thought she could see her strength returning. "But when the future comes calling, it's our duty to answer, no matter how frightening or uncertain."

The two of them were silent for some time, each of them considering that nebulous little thing called the future. Nia wouldn't know until many years yet just how true the dying queen's words would ring, but even now she could feel their weight.

"Are you frightened?" Nia finally asked.

"I'd be lying if I said no," Raqura said slowly, thoughtfully. "But more than that I feel…lucid. More than I have in a long time. It has me thinking about all I'm leaving behind. All the things unsaid… all the relationships unmended… but more than anything, all the truths unspoken…."

Raqura didn't say anything for a time, and Nia didn't pester her to continue. She merely waited with all of the regal patience the woman lying there had drilled into her. And before her, the man she had called father.

"For a very long time I've been grappling with whether to tell you the full truth about everything. For most of that time I thought it would be best if the truth simply died with me." Raqura weakly looked at Nia, who was shocked to see the usually stern, cold woman had tears in her eyes. "But these past years spent with you, preparing you for your role… it made me remember what it's like to be a mother.…"

As strong as the queen was, no fortress was impregnable: a couple of those tears managed to slip through. But Raqura held fast, and she kept her voice steady as she said, "You have well and truly enriched my life, Nia. That's why I've decided I owe you the truth." She must have noticed the lack of curiosity on Nia's face, because Raqura then said, "Or… perhaps you already know?"

The question prompted Nia to think back to three years ago, when the bombshell was first dropped on her that she would be Queen Raqura's successor.

---

One year on from her journey to the World Tree with Rex and the others, Nia had gotten used to the new form their world had taken. Mostly. She still had to mentally recalibrate when she'd wake up on mornings aboard a Titan airship to a sea of green land rather than the Cloud Sea stretching endlessly in all directions.

Even after a year, the people of Alrest still hadn't settled on a name for the new supercontinent they now all shared. Some liked Elysium, while those less inclined to mythology (true though it may have been) preferred New Alrest. Many more just kept using Alrest as if nothing had changed. Whatever name the world would settle on, everyone agreed on one thing: the new frontier was as dangerous as it was bountiful. Monsters of every kind—some familiar, others never seen before in Old Alrest—populated the new world. The silver lining was that the Garfont Mercenaries had no shortage of well-paying jobs to keep the new settlements safe.

The latest of such jobs was what brought Nia aboard the first of what would hopefully be a fleet of Titan airships owned by the Garfont Mercenaries. Purchasing the ship had been Rex's idea just before his sabbatical, tired of relying on charters and ships owned by their clients to get the mercenaries of their company around.

The airship was built the standard Urayan way, its hull held aloft by two smaller Titans with minimal modifications. The hull was an older model, which as a result meant it was bulkier than the standard hull used by the Urayan Navy. This suited the Garfont Mercenaries just fine, who made good use of the extra space to hold more men and equipment. Having finally finished all repairs and updates to modernise the hull and decks (they even installed a crystal communicator), the Vandham's Legacy was now finally taking her maiden voyage.

Uraya's Queen Raqura, who had recently become the Garfont Mercenaries' most frequent client, had given them a new job: investigate a Urayan frontier colony in the new world whose settlers apparently had all been wiped out. The settlement was small, the queen's attendant Dagen had explained when Nia and her senior officers had been briefed, and so new it didn't even have a proper name yet. It was designated simply as "Colony Gamma".

According to the briefing, there was an igna colony discovered near Gamma not too long before the Urayan motherland lost contact with them. Additionally, there were reports of skirmishes between the nearby Urayan military garrison and unidentified enemy combatants. Maybe Ardainian soldiers, maybe bandits using Ardainian equipment, the intelligence couldn't confirm one way or the other. Unfortunately, there was precedent for both possibilities. Even in this new world, some things never changed.

Still, something about the situation simply wasn't right. With how dangerous the new frontier was, entire settlements being wiped off the map wasn't entirely unheard of. But it was uncommon, and Nia once again found herself wishing that Rex and the others were with her. The mercenary Drivers currently in her company had proven themselves reliable, but it wasn't the same as having her friends by her side like the good old days.

The good old days, Nia thought as she ascended the stairs to the Legacy's upper decks. It's barely been a year since our journey ended, and I'm thinking of it like an old maid in her twilight years.

"Colony Gamma has been sighted. Captain says we'll be touching down in ten minutes," her second in command for this mission informed her when she arrived on deck with Dromarch at her side.

"Thank you, Zuo," Nia said.

Normally handling the administrative duties of the Garfont Mercenaries, Zuo and his associate Yew were both stepping up and taking field work to help make up for how thin spread they were. At least, until they could complete the process of vetting and hiring more mercenaries. Nia certainly appreciated the help, and idly wondered how Yew was doing with the job in New Indol.

"Gather everyone on deck," Nia ordered, and with a nod and a salute Zuo complied.

As she waited for Zuo to muster the troops, Nia could feel her feline Blade's concerned eyes on her.

"Copper coin for your thoughts?" Dromarch asked her.

In truth, Nia had much weighing on her mind beyond the job at hand but knew now was not the time. "We can talk later, Dromarch."

In no time at all, Zuo had gathered the rest of the mercenary Drivers and their Blades to the upper deck, and they all stood at attention, awaiting Nia's word. Nia anxiously cleared her throat; public speaking was something she neither enjoyed nor excelled at, but her position as acting commander of the Garfont Mercenaries required it more often than she would have liked.

So, drawing in a deep breath, Nia did what she had been starting to do more frequently and called upon her father's old lessons. She wasn't exactly the noble lady her father had been training her to be all those years ago, but loathe as she was to admit it, those lessons in proper diction were paying off. Properly projecting her voice, deliberately choosing her words, being mindful not to mumble or spit as she talked, it all came together to make her sound commanding and confident. Moreso than she felt, at least.

"Alright you lot, we're touching down in seven minutes. You've all been briefed on the situation and—I presume—have read the reports. A squad from the nearby Urayan garrison will meet us at the landing point. From there they will escort us to Colony Gamma, where Laplas and Maanus' squads will secure a perimeter while Zuo's squad and mine will work with the Urayan military to scour the colony for evidence of what happened.

"What we do from there will depend on what we find, but our likely next course of action will be to scout out the nearby igna colony and, if it becomes necessary, clear it out. Your squad leaders should already have assigned your individual roles. If unclear on what those are, take it up with them."

The speech didn't go terribly, Nia thought, but she still needed a way to cap it off that didn't sound so…stiff. "We don't know who or what we're dealing with here, so stay alert and don't forget about the person standing next to you."

Still too stiff. "You're all badasses, so if anyone or anything tries to mess around…." Nia hesitated. Realizing that her speech was rapidly unravelling and needed to wrap up before she lost the plot entirely, Nia raised a fist to the air and exclaimed without thinking, "Show 'em a thing or three!"

To her subordinates' credit, they were all consummate professionals. They responded to Nia's… unorthodox pre-action speech with proper salutes. But when she dismissed them to prepare to disembark, she heard a couple of snickers among their ranks. Nia felt the deck under her feet shift as the airship began to make its descent.

"I daresay that may have been one of your most coherent speeches yet, my lady," Dromarch said with the hint of a playful tone in his otherwise serious voice.

"Oh, shut it, you."

"Take it as the compliment it was intended. Any improvement is…." Dromarch trailed off.

Nia turned to ask him what was wrong and saw the feline's ears standing up straight and alert. Nia's Gormotti ears did the same as she suddenly heard it too. One distant crack followed swiftly by more.

"Gunfire…" she muttered. Someone was in a firefight near their destination.

They were still a few minutes from touching down, and depending on how far from that the apparent firefight was raging, it was likely that anyone on board who wasn't Gormotti hadn't heard any fire yet. Nia wasted no time, hopping onto Dromarch's back and riding the white tiger down to the hold where the other mercenaries were preparing to disembark.

"Look alive, you lot!" Nia shouted. "Sounds like we'll be dropping into a fight."

Terrible speech or no, the Garfont Mercenaries knew to trust Nia's ears and readied themselves. Before they all knew it, the airship jolted as it touched down and Nia raced out of the hold astride Dromarch as soon as it was open, the other mercs not far behind her. The gunfire was much louder now, and Nia followed it along the rocky cliffside their airship had landed on.

It wasn't long before she came upon a squad of about a dozen soldiers dressed in the large, bulky armour of Uraya's military. All of them were taking cover behind a rock formation about sixty Peds away from the cliffs and were using their staff-like ether rifles to fire into the treeline a fair distance away. What was more, the treeline was firing back.

As Nia got closer, she spotted what looked like the commanding officer: he had his helmet off and was barking orders to his troops. Much more immediately concerning was that he was kneeling over the prone form of another Urayan soldier, and seemed to be doing his best to hold the man's guts in.

Nia wasted no time and leapt off of Dromarch's back, tapping into the power of her core crystal and instantly transforming from the yellow jumpsuit of her Driver form to the white red and gold trimmed leotard and robes of her Blade form. Quickly approaching and kneeling beside the Urayan CO, Nia confirmed that the soldier bleeding out on the ground was still alive before applying her healing Arts to him.

"Nia. Garfont Mercenaries," she said before the CO even had time to ask. "I take it you're the ones who were supposed to meet us, then?"

"'Bout bloody time you dags showed up! Commander Wrash, Urayan 14th Garrison."

Through the glow of ether emanating from her hands, Nia could see the wounded soldier's injuries—two gunshots, by the looks of it—begin to close. Nia flinched, her ears flattening against her head as a bullet whizzed by over it.

"What the bloody hell is going on? Who's shooting at us?"

"Ardainians," Wrash spat. "Scouts spotted a decade of troops marching in our direction on our way to rendezvous with ya. Managed to get the drop on 'em, but turns out there was another decade, and we had to pull back here. Been pinned down since."

As if to punctuate his point, another bullet whizzed by, punching a hole in a nearby boulder.

"Now that you mercs are here, though, we can start our counterattack." Wrash turned to the men under his command. "Men, this is where we turn the tide! The mercs will advance on 'em from here, using their Blades' shields to draw their fire while we move to flank 'em. Then together, we overwhelm and route these Ardainians like the dogs they are!"

The Urayan soldiers all shouted what Nia assumed was their regiment's motto, "COURAGE!" and Cmdr. Wrash stood (but not before checking that he was still safely covered by the rock formation), turning to Nia and the Garfont Mercenaries.

"Well, you have your orders. Time to earn your paycheck, eh?"

Nia looked up from her kneeling position by the wounded soldier. "Wait, you just want to wipe them out? Without even trying to figure out what they were doing out here in the first place?"

"No need to figure out anything. Only reason Ardainian forces would be out here is they got wind of what happened to Gamma and saw it as an opportunity to claim the territory for themselves."

"Either that or they're the ones who got to Gamma in the first place," said another of the soldiers. Wrash made no indication that he disagreed.

Seeing that the injured soldier's wounds were closed, Nia motioned for Zuo to continue stabilising him as she stood to meet Wrash's gaze. "You can't be certain of that."

Wrash scowled and his eyes briefly flicked down to the tainted core crystal on her chest. Whether he understood or cared what it meant, however, didn't seem to change his demeanour.

"They're Ardainian. It's what they do," he said. "If it means that much to you, we can try to take a few of them prisoner and interrogate them after. But they're just going to tell you what I already did."

What little patience Nia had left for the stubborn fool in front of her was evaporating quickly. "Listen here, you…" somehow, she stopped herself from calling the man a bloody idiot to his face. "I'm trying to avoid further bloodshed here!"

"Tell that to the ratbags shooting at us!"

"Because you shot at them first!"

"We don't have time to discuss this any further," Wrash said before his face softened somewhat. The look he seemed to be trying for was sympathy, but to Nia it came across simply as patronising. "Look, I get it. You must be used to taking easy jobs on the Titans. Jobs where you don't have to get your hands dirty. But out here on the frontier, things work a little differently. Out here, it's kill or be killed. You'd better get that through your skull now, because I'm ordering you and your mercs to fall in. We're advancing on my mark!"

"Sir, don't you know who this is?" The voice was so small and weak Nia almost didn't know where it came from at first. Then she looked down at the wounded soldier, whose eyes were now focused on his commanding officer. "She travelled with the Aegis. She's one of the ones who saved the world a year ago!"

Nia wondered whether she and the others had met this soldier somewhere before on their travels. Wrash, meanwhile, looked from his wounded subordinate to Nia. His face was the very picture of "sceptical."

"Be that as it may, she still has her orders," he said.

Words aren't going to get through to this idiot, Nia thought as she considered her other options.

"All due respect, Commander," Zuo said from his spot by the wounded soldier. "The Garfont Mercenaries only take orders from our client, which at the moment is the office of Queen Raqura. Not you."

Nia sighed. She was definitely buying Zuo a drink when this was all over.

"Right, and our queen hired you with orders to assist me and my men," Wrash said with a glare.

"With the investigation of Colony Gamma, yes," Nia said, taking the ball Zuo tossed her and running with it. "Not with the massacre of a squad of Ardainians who in all likelihood have nothing to do with it."

Wrash clenched his teeth. "This is insubordination!"

"Well, you're right about that," Nia said, making sure to show off her feline fangs as she grinned at him. "How do you suppose Queen Raqura will take it when she hears you're obstructing the mercenaries she personally hired from conducting their investigation?"

"To say nothing of potentially starting another war with Mor Ardain," Zuo added.

"Really you should be thanking me. I'm cleaning up the mess you made and am probably saving your career."

Wrash sputtered, started to say something, stopped, tried again, and finally gave a defeated sigh. "Fine, if you want to get yourself killed trying to make peace with those animals over there, be my bloody guest. Just make sure the mercs under your command are ready to fall in after the Ardainians gun you down."

Unfortunately, commander Wrash had a point; one that made itself apparent as another volley of rifle fire from the Ardainians tore into the rock formation, making Wrash and his soldiers instinctively crouch. Still, it was nothing Nia couldn't handle.

"Dromarch," she said, turning towards the field beyond their rocky cover, and the treeline beyond that.

"At once, my lady," Dromarch said, following her.

Nia then addressed Zuo. "Stay back, but be ready to jump in if this all goes tits up."

Zuo nodded and signalled to the rest of their mercenaries to hold position while Nia calmly and elegantly stepped out from the rock formation into the open field with Dromarch at her side. As expected, the Ardainian soldiers immediately opened fire on the new target, but with a roar from Dromarch, a shield of hexagonal panels of ether energy formed before her, deflecting every shot.

Unharmed, Nia continued her confident stride forward, Dromarch's shield taking every bullet from the Ardainian steam rifles. When Dromarch's shield eventually broke, Nia raised her hand and drew power from her core crystal to replace it with her own. She continued forward until she reached the edge of the treeline the Ardainians were shooting from. For the first time since she arrived, the plain fell silent as the Ardainians ceased their attack, apparently finally noticing Nia was unarmed and hadn't moved to attack them.

Her Blade weapon still not summoned, Nia stood in place and waited, and when it seemed that the Ardainians weren't going to loose another volley of fire from their steam rifles, she cleared her throat and called out, "Um… I'm here to negotiate a ceasefire! Could the officer in charge please step out and, uh…" Nia gestured vaguely around her. "Negotiate?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Nia spotted the slight look of amusement on Dromarch's feline face.

"Shut it, you," she said under her breath.

"I did not say anything."

Nia flicked a glare in his direction. The plain remained silent for a few more moments, and Nia's Gormotti ears could pick up faint muttering from beyond the treeline. Finally, a man dressed in the brown armour of an Ardainian soldier and wearing the tall ornate helmet of an officer stepped out from the treeline with a steam rifle slung over his shoulder and made his way towards Nia, stopping several Peds away from her.

"You're a Blade, correct?" the Ardainian officer asked. "Is your Driver injured?"

Nia cocked her head. "Is… what?"

"Why are you negotiating with me instead of your Driver? Or are you one of the Driverless?"

"I don't…" Nia wasn't sure how to answer that question without opening a whole other can of worms. The Ardainian officer didn't seem to have noticed her tainted core crystal, though, which was good. "I am the acting commander of the Garfont Mercenaries. We've been contracted by the Urayan queen to investigate a… matter of importance to the Kingdom of Uraya and wish to continue doing so without further bloodshed."

"Well, Acting Commander, would you care to explain why your forces opened fire on mine?" the Ardainian officer asked testily.

"The commanding officer of the local Urayan military garrison opened fire on you. My own forces only just arrived and managed to talk him into standing down."

The officer "hmphed" and said, "Well, isn't that convenient?"

Clearing his throat, Dromarch spoke up. "In the Urayans' defence, you are entering their territory with an armed unit. You must realise how that looks from their end."

The captain regarded Dromarch briefly, seeming unsure who to address before fixing his helmeted gaze back on Nia. "I'm conducting an investigation into an internal imperial matter. And for your information, this region is contested: neither Ardainian nor Urayan territory."

Nia was genuinely unsure about that last part. The borders of this new world were still being drawn and were constantly changing as new treaties and agreements between the nations were being written. Who controlled which territory was honestly something Nia couldn't be bothered to keep up with. Now though, she wished she had. So instead, she chose to focus on the first part of what the officer said.

"Who is it that ordered your investigation?" she asked.

The officer folded his arms. "Not sure it'll mean anything to you, but my orders come from the Special Inquisitor herself."

Nia's ears perked up. "Mòrag?"

"So, you've heard of her, then?"

Nia smiled. "Heard of her? We're good friends. What does she have you investigating? Maybe we can help each other out."

The officer just laughed and said, "I've heard some desperate ploys in my day, but this takes the cake. Sorry lass, but if I went around giving sensitive information to everyone who claims to be friends with some high-ranking official, the whole empire would have our military secrets!"

Nia could feel the last vestiges of her patience slipping away, and clung desperately to them as she exclaimed, "It's true! Contact Mòrag, tell her Nia wants to help with her investigation!"

But the officer just turned and started walking back towards his men, who were tentatively emerging from the treeline. "Just tell your Urayan friends to stay out of our way, and they might live to fight another day."

Nia tried to think of a response—some way to keep the negotiations going—but couldn't. The Ardainians seemed inclined to cease hostilities at least, but it still felt like a loss. Cooperation with Mor Ardain might have been beneficial to both of their investigations.

"Wait… Nia?" one of the Ardainian soldiers suddenly said. His face was unreadable behind his helmet, but his posture indicated he was studying her carefully. "Nia, it is you! I almost didn't recognize you with that weird outfit. Remember me?"

Considering he looked just like every other Ardainian soldier wearing identical armour, Nia shook her head and looked at Dromarch, who shrugged. Still, there was something familiar about his voice, more specifically his accent. He spoke like someone from Gormott rather than from Mor Ardain.

The soldier then took off his helmet, and Nia saw a vaguely familiar young Gormotti man with short brown hair and matching feline ears. "It's me, Jac. Remember? You and your friends helped me out in Alba Cavanich around when I first enlisted."

Finally it clicked, and Nia remembered running a simple errand for the young man which quickly turned into a huge investigation in its own right. "Jac, I remember you! How're your little siblings? They staying out of trouble?"

"They're great! Got some leave to go visit them before I got deployed to the frontier…."

"Corporal, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" the officer barked, before looking from Jac to Nia to Jac again. "Are you actually acquainted with this… individual?"

As if suddenly remembering where he was, Jac turned and stood at attention before his commanding officer. "Yes sir, Captain Cailean, sir. I can personally vouch for Nia, sir. She and Special Inquisitor Mòrag worked together on the investigation into the murder of Senator Arascain one year ago, sir."

The officer, Capt. Cailean, rubbed his chin (or at least, the part of his helmet covering his chin). "Yes, I remember hearing about that. It involved the Brionac terrorist group, didn't it? What a messy affair."

The captain spent another moment contemplating before he finally removed his own helmet, revealing an older Ardainian man with a well-groomed moustache. He gave Nia a grin as he said, "I have no reason to doubt any man under my command. If the corporal here vouches for you, I believe him. And if you helped the Special Inquisitor get to the bottom of the Brionac incident, then maybe you can help us find out what destroyed our colony."

Nia let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. Finally, things were starting to go her way. Suddenly, the last part of what Cailean said hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Wait, what now?"

---

Several minutes after the tenuous ceasefire had been reorganised into an unofficial combined operation (itself an equally lengthy process), Nia found herself following Cailean back to where the Ardainians had made camp, Dromarch at her side. She had given Zuo command of the mercenary contingent and trusted him to carry out the operation as planned. She estimated that they will have just arrived at Colony Gamma and would be starting their search. In the interest of cooperation and transparency, Cailean had sent Jac along with Zuo and the Urayans to represent the interests of Mor Ardain, while Nia and Dromarch accompanied the Ardainians.

It was lucky that no one on either side of the brief skirmish had been killed, and those who were wounded were not suffering from terribly serious injuries (thanks in part to Nia's exceptional healing powers). Thus, with Nia and the Garfont Mercenaries there to mediate, the two sides agreed that working together was in their best interests.

Each side had briefed each other on their respective investigations, and as Nia had feared, the Ardainians' situation sounded remarkably similar to their own. An Ardainian colony—one that had been around long enough to have a proper name, Blackrock—had dropped out of contact with the rest of the empire two days before the same happened to Colony Gamma. And just like Gamma, early reconnaissance seemed to indicate that all of the settlers had been killed to the last. The thought of so much death made Nia's stomach churn.

"Blackrock was a mining town, named for the abundance of obsidian in the surrounding area. They set up shop right next to a large underground deposit of ether crystals," Cailean had explained. "Naturally, my men have searched the whole mine as well as the surrounding area for any sign of especially dangerous monsters, but so far have found pretty standard stuff: antols, caterpiles and the like."

In other words, nothing dangerous enough to wipe out an entire town. She had a hunch that it would be the same with Colony Gamma, but she wouldn't know for sure until she rendezvoused with Zuo and the other mercenaries later.

However, the Ardainians' investigation hadn't been entirely fruitless. By luck or fate, Cailean's investigation of the area surrounding Blackrock turned up something Nia honestly did not expect any of them to find so far out on the frontier: a witness. It was primarily for this reason that Nia decided to accompany the Ardainians to their base camp.

No sooner had Nia and Dromarch arrived at the Ardainian camp than had Nia identified the likely witness. Among the armoured Ardainian soldiers, the small green Nopon stood out like a sore thumb. The fuzzy round creature was huddled just outside of what appeared to be Cailean's tent, nursing a steaming cup of presumably tea in the wing-like appendages Nopon used in place of their stubby little arms. A Nopon-sized pack rested next to him, with numerous odds and ends hanging off of it. The Nopon was staring straight ahead, his beady eyes not seeming to register Cailean's approach until the officer cleared his throat.

"Laddie, got someone here who wants to talk to you," Cailean said. "This here's Nia, she's in charge of a mercenary crew who are investigating a similar incident to what happened in Blackrock."

The Nopon regarded her with his beady eyes. "Hello, Miss Nia. I Samsam: merchant in Pyrithium Trade Guild." The Nopon pulled his guild identification out of his pack and held it for Nia to see.

"Nice to meet you, Samsam," Nia said politely. It was hard to tell age with Nopon, but this one looked very young.

"Laddie, how about you tell Nia here what you told me the other day."

Samsam nodded (which for a Nopon, looked more like a little bow) and focused on Nia as he began reciting a story Nia suspected he'd already told numerous times. "Right. Samsam does trade with colonies in this region for guild. Sometimes with guildmates, most times alone. Pyrithium Trade Guild not have many airships so usually travel on foot."

Nia raised an eyebrow. "You travel the frontier on foot? Alone?"

"It not so bad when you know what routes to take and what routes to avoid. Sometimes Samsam see monsters, but Samsam sneaky and fast like wind! That only reason Samsam not killed like prospectors in Empire colony."

"Do you know what killed them, Samsam?"

"Samsam not know. Sun just setting when Samsam arrive at Blackrock for trade. Usually member of town militia waiting to greet Samsam, but this time no one there. Samsam get bad feeling but enter colony anyway. That when Samsam see monster."

"So it was a monster that did it?" Nia asked. "What kind of monster was it?"

A haunted look fell across Samsam's face. "Samsam not know, Samsam never see before! Different from any monster Samsam see in all of Alrest."

"Different? In what way?"

"Monster look like… like it wasn't there. Samsam not know how else to describe. It look like it was made of smoke or fog."

Nia had faced many species of monster in her travels, but she had never seen or heard of one like that. Of course, the new world was full of many strange things, including monsters never before seen in Old Alrest. Nia had even heard multiple accounts of Drivers who had encountered gigantic, winged lizards that breathed fire. If something like that existed in this new world, a beast made of fog didn't seem terribly far-fetched, Nia supposed.

"Tell her about the rift," Cailean prompted the Nopon.

"Oh yes! After run away from fog monster, Samsam notice the late hour, yet sun still hang high in sky. That when Samsam realize it not sun at all, but great big hole in sky, orange like setting sun."

"An orange rift?" Nia mused.

The rift itself wasn't so strange. The world in its current form was still newly born. As such, the firmaments between it and what remained of Old Alrest were still unstable, making such rifts a relatively common occurrence. Scientists and meteorologists had even learned to track and predict them like any other weather phenomenon. It was how salvagers were able to continue to make a living without the Cloud Sea, planning expeditions to the Land of Morytha using predictions of when and where the next rift would open up. And yet, Nia had never heard of an orange rift opening up before. The image painted by the little Nopon was certainly ominous.

"I see, so after you saw the rift in the sky, what happened?" Nia asked.

"Nothing. Samsam find safe place to make camp and bed down for the night. Next morning, rift was gone."

"And there you have it," Cailean said. "Naturally, my men have been keeping their eyes peeled for any fog monsters or strange rifts, but so far have found jack shite."

"I will admit, it does all sound a little far-fetched," Nia stated. And yet, something about the Nopon's story rang true. She was no stranger to strange happenings, after all.

"Aye, I know it sounds a little doo-lally but I've no reason to doubt the lad. And considering we haven't got any other leads…."

"Right, say no more." Nia wondered how all of this was going to look in her report to Her Majesty. She decided that was a problem for Future Nia and turned to address Cailean. "I'll inform my mercenaries of this orange rift and fog creature. In the meantime…."

"And man in white hat."

Both Nia and Cailean slowly turned their heads towards Samsam, the little Nopon shifting uncomfortably under their combined gaze.

"And what?" Cailean said, his voice low like a simmering pot ready to boil over.

Samsam cleared his throat, and Nia could swear his fur was starting to stand on end. "Samsam recently remembered, about an hour before reaching Ardainian colony, Samsam crossed paths with traveller on road: man wearing coat and wide white hat. Samsam offered to make trade but man in white hat just keep walking. Said he had appointment to keep."

Nia had a feeling she knew where the little Nopon was going with this. "And let me guess: he was coming from the direction of Blackrock?"

Samsam nodded. "Is only colony in one-hundred Titanpeds of where paths crossed."

"Why the bloody hell are you only telling me this now? We could have been looking for this guy the past few days!" Cailean exclaimed. The simmering pot was now at a boil.

"Samsam only just remember an hour ago! Samsam meet travellers on road frequently, so thought nothing of it at the time. Forgot all about man in white hat by the time Samsam reached Blackrock."

Cailean let out a long breath, and just like that the proverbial pot was back down to a simmer. "Well, I suppose this counts as good news. Would've liked to have known about it sooner, but this man in the white hat might be the last person to have seen the people of Blackrock alive. He'll be a valuable witness, assuming we can find him."

Nia, however, had another much more unsettling thought. "Samsam, which direction would you say this man was headed?"

"Was headed west. Closest settlement in that direction would be Uraya's Colony Gamma."

Nia figured as much. "And how long does it take to get from where you saw him to Colony Gamma by foot?"

Samsam rubbed his chin with a wing. "If pace is good, could reach Colony Gamma from Blackrock by foot in two days."

And there it was. Colony Gamma had lost contact with the Kingdom of Uraya exactly two days after the town of Blackrock lost contact with Mor Ardain.

Nia and Cailean exchanged a knowing look. "Are you thinking…?" Cailean started, allowing the thought to complete itself.

With a nod, Nia answered, "I'm thinking this man in the white hat is a little more than just a witness."

---

It was little more than halfway through the second full day of the investigation that Nia unexpectedly found herself back aboard the Vandham's Legacy travelling to Fonsa Myma. She and the mercenaries under her command had just finished their search of the apparently abandoned igna colony in the nearby mountains when she was informed of a message they had received on the onboard crystal communicator from the office of Queen Raqura. The message instructed Nia to return to the Urayan capital immediately.

Nia was honestly miffed. Her investigation into the destruction of Colony Gamma was nowhere near complete, and surely the queen knew it. Nevertheless, Nia did as she was bid and left Zuo in charge of the investigation while she and Dromarch took the Vandham's Legacy back to Uraya.

She spent the rest of the day in her quarters, drafting up a report on her investigation to give to the queen when she arrived in Fonsa Myma. Nia found paperwork tedious even when everything was going smoothly, but the incomplete nature of the investigation made the process downright frustrating.

Enough so that when evening came around and her stomach started to rumble, she decided that the rest of the report could wait until tomorrow. Zuo had already begun investigating the closest neighbouring colonies for any information about Samsam's mysterious man in the white hat, as well as any sightings of what they were now calling the Fogbeast. Who knows? Maybe by this time tomorrow Zuo would contact her with a new development that would conveniently answer everything. Unfortunately, Nia had a feeling she wouldn't be that lucky.

Nia forced all of that from her mind as the mess decks called to her. With just the ship's crew and none of the Garfont Mercenaries on board, the mess decks were much emptier than it had been on the journey here. Still, Nia found the atmosphere too stuffy for her liking and found a nice empty spot on the upper deck to eat and look out at the night sky. It was an overcast night, and the Titan airship was flying just above the clouds, a canopy of stars above and a sea of clouds below. It reminded Nia of Old Alrest, and she found herself imagining she was travelling it again alongside the friends she had grown to rely on.

"You're looking wistful," Dromarch said, the white tiger sitting on his haunches next to her. "Let me guess: thinking about the old days?"

"It's funny, isn't it?" Nia said, taking a long breath. "We spent so much time fighting for a better world. Yet now that we've found it, part of me kinda misses the old one."

"That is the way life is sometimes, isn't it?" Dromarch mused. "You never realise when the good days are until they're gone."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not wearing rose-tinted glasses or anything. There's a lot of the old world I'm glad to leave behind. I don't miss fighting for our lives every single day." Nia touched the tainted core crystal on her chest. "I don't miss hiding who I really am from the people I care about most. More than anything I just miss them."

"Yes, it has been some time since all of us were together," Dromarch said.

"I even miss Shellhead."

"Now you are wearing rose-tinted glasses."

Nia allowed herself a chuckle, but it wasn't enough to keep the constant growing melancholy at bay. For how close she and the others had grown over their journey, the only thing really binding them together was their shared goal of reaching Elysium. Now that they had done it, the threads of fate binding them together were unravelling.

"Don't worry, we'll see them again soon enough," Dromarch said.

"I know. It's just sad to think that we're already drifting apart," Nia said.

"True, but it's simply a part of life," Dromarch said. "Mòrag and Brighid have their duties in Mor Ardain, and Zeke and Pandoria couldn't run from their duties in Tantal forever. Even Tora and Poppi have their own goals to achieve. And Rex…"

"Rex has Pyra and Mythra," Nia said, doing her best to keep the hurt from showing in her voice.

"Exactly."

That was when the thought entered Nia's mind, so what do I have? In Rex's recent absence, Nia had taken command of the Garfont Mercenaries but to what end? What was she doing all of it for?

When she was travelling with Rex and the others, getting Pyra and Mythra to Elysium—and the hope that they would find a better world there, even for someone like her—was the dream that had pushed her forward. But now that she was thinking about it, it wasn't even really her own dream. She had simply borrowed it from Rex.

"What am I even doing?" Nia muttered.

"My lady?"

"Rex, Tora, Mòrag, all of them… they seem like they have it all figured out. Their purpose in life. And when we were all together, I thought I had finally found mine. But now? Everything feels exactly like it was before I met them. When it was just you and me against the world."

"Now my lady, you know that things are very different now…."

"In what way?" Nia was vaguely aware that a dam within her had ruptured, and a torrent of words were spilling out that she couldn't stop, but it barely registered. Perhaps this was needed. "I know, we have the Garfont Mercenaries now, and we're not constantly looking over our shoulder waiting for the Praetorium to find us, but I feel like I'm still just getting by day to day. Everyone else is moving forward but it's like I'm stuck. Just…drifting along aimlessly."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Nia said, "Sorry, Dromarch. Guess I sound pretty ungrateful. All things considered, we do have it pretty good now."

"I think I understand, my lady," Dromarch said, the big cat shifting closer to her. It was all the invitation Nia needed, and she leaned into his soft fur. "Just give it time. You'll find your own purpose."

---

The second day of their voyage back to the capital had a favourable wind throughout, allowing the Vandham's Legacy to make port in Fonsa Myma's harbour at midday on the third, rather than at the end of day as the captain had initially predicted. Nia wasted no time after stepping off the Titan airship. With Dromarch sticking to her like glue, she made her way up the marble and stone streets of Fonsa Myma to the Holy Gate of Fontana and up the Great Stairway to the main plaza of Sevind Palace.

There, she showed the guards the Royal Signet the queen had given her bearing the sigil of House Selosia and explained that she was expected. She and Dromarch were then led into the palace, up winding stairs and through well-furnished corridors until they arrived at the doors to Queen Raqura's study. As Nia again pulled out her signet to show the two Queensguard soldiers standing vigil at the door, the sound of muffled voices crept through from the other side.

"After what happened the other day, you can no longer afford to hesitate!" An older woman's voice exclaimed; not the queen's, but someone Nia did not recognize.

"I am not dead yet, Lady Paronet," Queen Raqura's voice replied, calm but full of regal authority. "Please have the courtesy to keep your ambition in check until my body is a little colder!"

"Your Majesty, such harsh words are unwarranted! I am only thinking of what's best for the kingdom."

It was at that moment that the senior member (Nia assumed) of the Queensguard knocked on the door. "Your Majesty, the commander of the Garfont Mercenaries is here for you."

"Send her in," the queen ordered, and the Queensguard officer opened the door and stood aside for Nia to enter.

Queen Raqura Selosia was seated at her large saffronia wood desk, entombed in books and paper. The table displaying the replica World Tree and the miniature Titans orbiting it was just off to the side, and standing just in front of it was another woman dressed in the fine clothes and jewellery of nobility. She looked over at Nia, the bones of her skull seeming to push through her wrinkled face dotted with scales typical of a full-blooded Urayan. Her expression, however, betrayed none of the frailty of age, and her anger—either from the conversation or its interruption—was palpable.

"If you wish to continue this discussion, Lady Paronet, we can do so in formal session with the other Houses," Queen Raqura stated, motioning with a hand for Nia to step closer. "For now, I have other matters to see to."

The other woman took a step toward the door as Nia approached, then turned to get in one final word. "I know it is a bitter pill to swallow, Your Majesty, but it is an undeniable fact: Your line will end with you. I beg you, please ensure the same will not be true of Uraya."

With a final, hasty bow, the noblewoman marched past Nia, not sparing her or Dromarch another glance before disappearing through the study's door. When she was gone, Queen Raqura let out a long-suffering sigh.

"My apologies for that, Nia. I did not expect you to arrive so early."

Glancing back towards the door the noblewoman had retreated through, Nia found herself too curious not to ask, "What was that about?"

"Just the head of House Paronet overstepping as always," Raqura said. Nia expected the queen to simply leave it at that; she was one to keep things close to the chest, after all. But after a moment's hesitation, Raqura elaborated, "I'm sure you're aware that the Kingdom of Uraya is in the midst of a succession crisis. My only son died many years ago, and more recently so did my Royal Consort. My younger brother is the only living family I have left, and he relinquished his claim to the throne long ago. Though, considering half the kingdom are probably his bastards, that may have been the wisest decision he'd ever made."

Nia nodded. "Right, say no more."

"Lady Paronet seems to think that her House has the best claim to the throne, owing to the fact my late husband was her son," Raqura continued.

"And I take it that's where you disagree with her?"

"Officially, the Royal Consort's family has no place in the line of succession…."

"But, in the absence of other heirs, she figures she can leverage that relationship." Nia had seen it all the time in her old life in the world of Gormotti nobility. "I bet she puts on quite the performance as your 'loyal and trusted friend.'"

To Nia's surprise, Raqura let out a single chuckle. "You always were a bloody sharp one. But enough talk of politics. Do you have your report on the destroyed colony?"

Nia placed her written report on the queen's desk and briefly summarised the events surrounding her investigation of Colony Gamma. Queen Raqura thumbed through the written report as she listened, her eyes scanning the pages even after Nia finished her debriefing.

"What about the missing Blades? Any idea why they're not with the bodies of the other colonists?" Raqura asked.

This was information Zuo had sent Nia during the second day of her voyage back. He had only discovered the existence of Blades in Colony Gamma at all thanks to employment records his men found in the colony administrator's office. What was more, he had contacted Capt. Cailean after making the discovery and had found out there were unaccounted for Blades in Blackrock as well. Another unsettling parallel between the two incidents.

"Well like I said, the investigation is still ongoing, but my guess is that their disappearance has something to do with the figure apparently spotted near the site of both Uraya's colony and Mor Ardain's," Nia explained. Zuo's investigation had also turned up one or two more eyewitness accounts of this "man in the white hat" but they still hadn't caught up with him yet. Zuo's most recent message said that their man appeared to be headed toward the Urayan town of Goshen, and that he and a couple of his men were going there next.

"Is it possible that these Blades returned to their core crystals?" Raqura asked.

"I don't see how," Nia said.

"Indeed," Dromarch spoke up, "It's been little more than a year since the World Tree was destroyed and not a single Blade has returned to their core since."

Nia didn't need to think hard to know why the thus far silent Dromarch chose to speak up on this particular point. The topic of how the Blade lifecycle had changed was one they never really sat down and discussed, busy as they were. It always seemed to loom just overhead, though.

"Well, I suppose this question and more will be answered once we've tracked down our man in the white hat," Raqura said, filing away Nia's report and standing from her desk. "Fine work as usual, Nia. I must say, I'm very impressed with the way you handled the unexpected skirmish with the Ardainian force."

With a noncommittal shrug, Nia said, "Eh, just doing my job."

"No actually, you went above and beyond the call of duty. Most mercenaries would have simply gone along with commander Wrash's orders and I'd have an international incident on my hands."

Raqura began walking around the desk, and for the first time Nia noticed she was leaning on a cane. One that the queen didn't have the last time they met. "You managed to not only stop the engagement without casualties on either side, but even managed to organise a combined investigation in its wake. That kind of initiative is the mark of a true leader."

"I…" Nia was about to explain that a lot of it was luck. That her second-in-command had really gone to bat for her with Cmdr. Wrash, and that by pure coincidence she had an acquaintance within the ranks of the Ardainian decade.

She then glanced over at Dromarch, who gave her a kind but firm glare. One that seemed to say, Just take the compliment!

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Nia said.

For what may have been the first time, Nia saw the makings of a smile on Queen Raqura's hard, stony face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with the heads of the six noble houses, and I expect they will all test the limits of my patience."

Remembering their earlier talk about the succession crisis, Nia decided now was as good a time as any to ask, "One question before you go, Your Majesty," Nia said. "Is there something amiss here?"

"Amiss?"

"Yeah, like, why call me back to the capital before I've had a chance to finish the investigation you sent me on?" Nia asked. "I don't think you would do that unless something here was amiss."

Raqura's stone face somehow seemed even stonier as she said, "There is more we must speak of. Meet me at the Raqura Aquagardens at eight o'clock tonight." She then spared a quick glance to Dromarch. "Come alone. I'll explain everything then."

Nia would only find out years later that "everything" did not really mean "everything."

---

Only mildly annoyed, Duchess Priscilla Paronet sol Esteriole strode the halls of Sevind Palace in the direction of the main council chambers, where Queen Raqura was scheduled to meet with her and the other heads of Uraya's noble houses in the next few minutes. It was likely that every one of them was ready to present the queen with a list of reasons why their House should be the one to succeed the throne, each of them tenuous at best. Out of all of them, House Paronet was closest to having an actual place in the line of succession, and Priscilla had hoped to remind the queen of that before the formal session of council would begin. Alas, the stubborn woman refused to hear of it.

No matter, Priscilla thought, the throne will be mine one way or another.

At the end of the corridor leading to the council chambers, Priscilla's Blade Sven awaited her. He had an appearance common to so many of his kind; dark grey skin and blue lines of ether running along his doll-like body. What differentiated him from others of his kind was the eloquence with which he carried himself. He waited for Priscilla with his hands clasped behind his back, standing ever so slightly straighter than most Blades, and as she approached, he bowed with infinitesimally more grace.

"My Lady Paronet," he greeted her, even his Blade accent a touch more refined.

Although Priscilla had the aptitude to resonate with core crystals, she considered the kind of work typical of Drivers beneath her. Only her eldest son had—against her wishes—actually engaged in real mercenary work, and look where it got him (Architect rest his soul). Despite that, her Blades had their uses. If nothing else, it was good to have help she didn't need to pay too highly.

"Sven," Priscilla greeted in turn. "Any word from the mercenary guilds we contacted the other day?"

Sven gave a single nod, "The Bedlam Mercenaries and the Volff's Fang Mercenaries have both signed four-year contracts."

"Wonderful," Priscilla said. Together with the other mercenaries she was keeping on retainer, this was turning out to be a very expensive investment. It would be worth it in the end though, and besides, what else were taxpayer Gs for?

Priscilla was already considering how best to use the ample muscle she had acquired. She figured the best strategy would be to have them stand by within the duchies of her rival Houses, whereupon Queen Raqura's (likely soon) passing, they would attack key farming villages: burning crops and destroying supply lines, effectively crippling the rest of the nobility before they could launch mercenary attacks of their own. The leaders of each of the guilds on her payroll were already working out the logistics of such an operation.

Some part of her was vaguely aware that the people of Uraya would suffer as a result, but it was so far down her priorities it barely registered. Her own coffers were suffering a fair amount to secure her place on the throne, the Urayan people could surely handle being hungry for a winter or two if it meant a more prosperous future for the Kingdom further down. Then, once Priscilla was queen, she could really get to work.

"One additional item regarding the newly contracted mercenaries," Sven started. He must have seen a hint of displeasure on Priscilla's face, because he hastily clarified, "A good development, My Lady Paronet. The Volff's Fang mercenaries have a couple of new recruits who recently joined after their contract ended with another merc group. The Dragon's Breath Mercenaries, I believe. They had been contracted by the office of Queen Raqura early in the year, and are now offering us information on that job in exchange for a bonus."

"They must be new to the business. Or just greedy and short-sighted," Priscilla mused. Even she knew that giving out sensitive information about previous employers was a good way to get blacklisted from the merc community. "All the better for us, though. I presume you took them up on their offer?"

Sven nodded. "Queen Raqura had hired their old guild for a job in Gormott. They were tasked with gathering as much information as they could find pertaining to House Eschell, a noble house in Gormott which had apparently gone bankrupt and been dissolved a number of years ago."

Priscilla knew exactly what this meant, and a single cackle erupted from her old throat. "So, our queen is still trying to find the Lost Heir of Hannes."

Priscilla herself had hired people to find leads on the Heir of Hannes right after Queen Raqura's son and only heir had died. She was reasonably certain all of the other nobles had done the same, yet none of them could find a trace of the Lost Heir's existence. Priscilla couldn't keep herself from chuckling some more. Your desperation is showing, Raqura.

"Should I look into this matter further, My Lady Paronet?"

"Do not waste your time, Sven. If Hannes Envia really did sire a secret heir in Gormott, that line was likely broken long ago." Priscilla then looked up at the sound of footsteps down the hall from whence she came. Members of the Queensguard were marching towards the council chambers with Queen Raqura shuffling along on her cane just behind them. "Right now, we have bigger fish to fry."

---

It had been quite some time since Nia had last visited the Raqura Aquagardens, she thought as she descended the portion of the Great Stairway that extended out beyond Fonsa Myma's streets. The last time she was here, it had been with Rex and the others. The saffronia trees around the lake far below the Great Stairway had been in full bloom, their petals filling the distant scenery with a pink-orange glow. The saffronias this year weren't quite finished blooming yet, their glow just a tad dimmer.

There was now also wooden scaffolding bridging the chunks of the stone stairway that had long since collapsed the first time Nia and her friends had come this way. She vividly remembered sliding down the aqueduct that ran alongside the Great Stairway, building up momentum for the death-defying leap over the broken gap before using their Blades to climb the rest of the way. Even with that sense of adventure now gone because of it, Nia was glad for the scaffolding. She didn't have the mental energy for those kinds of acrobatics right now.

Apparently Nia wasn't the only one feeling nostalgic this evening. She arrived within the Raqura Aquagardens to find its namesake standing at its centre, bathed in soft moonlight diffused through the gardens' glass ceiling and the Urayan Titan's translucent hide far above. The queen looked lost in thought as she stared at the arrangements of plant life on the garden's far side.

"I used to come here a lot as a kid," Raqura said as Nia approached, her eyes never leaving the flowers, bushes and trees with their softly glowing petals. "Used to spend hours here with my canvas and brushes."

In the admittedly short time Nia had known Queen Raqura, she had never seen her speak so openly about herself to anyone. "You used to paint? Get out!"

"Yep. I wasn't half bad at it either." Raqura's stone face then gave way to a frown. "If I picked up a paint brush now though, I don't think I'd know what to do with it."

"Been that long, has it?"

Raqura nodded. "I wonder whether all of those ambitious nobles would still covet the crown I wear if they knew the truth of it."

"The truth?"

Finally, Raqura turned to look at Nia, her eyes heavy and tired. "That the crown is ravenous. It eats your passions, your hobbies, your relationships, everything that makes you you. It eats your time in this world. It leaves you with only the things a ruler needs: a strong will and a sharp mind. It hardens you, but… leaves you incomplete."

Nia opened her mouth but couldn't find the words to respond. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. She'd heard that idiom before, but it was only now—seeing Queen Raqura look more tired than she'd ever seen someone—that Nia started to grasp the full scope of its meaning.

"You wanted to know why I summoned you back. Whether something was 'amiss' as you put it," Raqura continued. "The truth is, two days after I sent you to investigate Colony Gamma, I had a significant health scare. I collapsed in the middle of a meeting with my top admirals and had to be rushed to the palace infirmary."

"Eesh, you alright?" Nia asked, but then she looked again at the cane that the queen now leaned on and a cold feeling sunk into her chest.

"For now, but I don't know for how long." Raqura paced, leaning on her cane as she sought out some other part of the garden to focus her attention. "The doctors say I have at least a year. After that, things get murky."

"I'm sorry," was all Nia could think to say until she remembered her… unique powers. "You know, I have some pretty powerful healing abilities. Maybe I can help?"

"Can you create ether out of thin air?" Raqura asked sardonically.

Nia's healing powers were exceptional enough for her to go toe to toe with the Endbringer himself. But even she couldn't create something from nothing. Nia shook her head.

"Your sentiment is appreciated, Nia, really. But if there is a cure for DED, I don't think we'll find it in time."

Nia's eyes widened. "You have Degenerative Ether Disease?"

Ether was the base upon which all life is built: as essential to living things as a heart or lungs. It was rare, but there were people whose bodies did not produce enough ether for those things and more to continue working. Nia remembered reading about it when she had been doing her own research into deadly diseases, hoping to find a way to save the girl who had been like a sister to her. There was also old man Cole, though his ether degeneration was thanks to his Flesh Eater background and not the result of any sickness.

Unaware of Nia's thoughts, Raqura continued, "Truth is, I've been suffering from this condition all my life. It was never easy, but thanks to the best medical care in Uraya, I always managed. Now though, my condition has worsened. I suppose I was always living on borrowed time."

Nia thought back to the half-overheard conversation when she showed up at the queen's study. "I guess this explains why that Paronet woman was so eager to get the succession sorted quickly."

"Yes. My staff did what they could to downplay my health incident, but Paronet and the others still found out. Bloody rhoguls, the lot of 'em," Raqura spat. "I suppose there was a time when the noble families of Uraya truly lived up to the title. Perhaps when the six Houses were still nine. Now though, all they care about is gaining power at any cost. Even now, they plot and scheme behind my back."

Raqura sighed, "It doesn't matter which of them ultimately succeeds the throne after I'm gone. Without a true heir, Uraya's on the path to a second War of Succession. Something I do not believe the kingdom in its current state can survive."

For a moment, the Aquagardens were quiet and still.

"Well… that's an awfully grim picture you've painted, Your Majesty," Nia eventually said. "But I still don't understand what this all has to do with why I'm here."

But the silence of the Aquagardens persisted, until at last Raqura asked, "Do you believe in fate, Nia?"

What the bloody hell kind of question is that? Nia wanted to ask, but instead eloquently replied, "Uh… like what?"

"Fate. Do you believe our destinies are all written?"

Nia rubbed her neck, "Gee, I dunno. I guess?"

"Never gave it much thought, did you?" Raqura asked with the hint of a smile, and Nia shook her head. "Some people are adamantly opposed to the idea of fate. Goes against the notion of free will, I guess. The more zealous types like the Indoline—or what's left of them—firmly believe that everything happens because the Architect wills it."

"Well, I have actually met the Architect," Nia said with a slight grin of her own. "If there is such a thing as fate, I don't think He has much to do with it."

Raqura nodded. "Myself, I quite like the idea that the old Spessian scholars came up with: That if we are all connected by the flow of ether, then we are similarly bound to that flow. Thus, everything that happens is predetermined."

Nia shrugged. "I dunno. I think I like the idea of free will better, myself."

"I don't disagree, but that theory is why I'm standing here now," Raqura said. "I must have been eleven or twelve when I first read about Spessia's theory of fate. It seemed fatalistic at first, but then it dawned on me: if our fates are dictated by the flow of ether, then my greatest weakness is also my greatest strength. After all, how could I be part of the eternal flow of ether if my body can't even produce enough of it to live?"

"Wow, that's a pretty optimistic way to see a terminal illness," Nia mused.

"Say what you like, but I'm now standing here at fifty-two years old when the doctors all said I wouldn't live past twelve. It's how I managed to bear a son even though my condition should have made that impossible. Yes, he still died before he could succeed me, and I'm not likely to live to old age, but I still managed to defy the fate given to me.

"I make my own fate. And now that Uraya's fate hangs by a thread, I'm going to take it with my own hands."

Part of Nia wanted to ask her to just get to the bloody point already, but she couldn't. The queen's drive and passion in this moment was mesmerising. This was a side of her Nia never knew existed. Perhaps it was the natural result of knowing that her time was almost up.

"I don't know if you remember this, Nia, but the first time we properly spoke was right here in the Aquagardens."

"No, I remember."

"And do you remember the job I gave you and your friends then?"

"You hired us because someone stole the Jeweled Signet of Uraya." Nia thought carefully to call back the details of that mission. It had been back when she was still on the journey to find Elysium with Rex and the others. "Someone had claimed to find some lost heir in Gormott or something and needed the signet to prove the claim's legitimacy, right?"

"That's right. Someone actually claimed to have found the Lost Heir of Hannes, the last scion of House Envia, the true royal family of Uraya. You are aware, of course, that House Selosia are not the kingdom's true rulers? At best we're stewards and at worst, usurpers." Raqura's grip on her cane tightened. "I realise it's hypocritical of me to lament the corrupt state of the nobility when it's likely that my ancestors were the ones who started us down that path. That is, if you believe the death of House Envia was their work and not merely the work of fate."

Nia didn't exactly know the whole bloody history of Uraya, so she chose to focus on what she did know. "The culprits who stole the Jeweled Signet hadn't actually found the lost heir though."

"That's right, it was all just a ploy by Mor Ardain to take advantage of the succession crisis and put a puppet on Uraya's throne."

"A ploy by an individual from Mor Ardain acting without the emperor's knowledge or consent," Nia reminded her.

"So the official story goes," Raqura said in a wary tone. It would seem that despite the progress that had been made between the two rival nations since the Temperantia incident, Raqura was still slow to trust the Ardainian Empire. "Regardless, I already knew they couldn't have found the real heir of House Envia because I had already spent years looking into it myself."

"Really? You were planning to find the lost heir to solve your succession crisis?" Nia asked.

"Not just me. For years the other noble families of Uraya had been searching for the heir, for the very same reason as the culprit in your investigation. However, when you and your friends gave me your findings, a notion hit me that I couldn't shake. Naturally, I had already done a thorough background check on you and your friends before hiring you for that job. I knew about your history with the terrorist group Torna, and much more significantly, I knew about your life as the daughter of Lord Fremen Eschell of Gormott. A noble house which now no longer exists."

Nia's heartbeat quickened as somewhere in the back of her mind, an idea began to form about where the queen was going with all this. Raqura went to a small table off to the side of the garden's centrepiece, where an old book bound in leather from ardun's hide had been set.

"After you and the others completed the job, I hired more mercenaries to gather every last document they could recover from the fallen House Eschell. It took a lot of legwork; when your old House's assets were liquidated, the contents of your archives were scattered to the winds. Eventually though, I had enough for my scribes to start combing through." Raqura took the book in her hand and presented it to Nia. "This is what they eventually found."

Nia took the book and looked through its pages, her mind already reeling with what she knew she would find. Sure enough, she saw an old family tree with names dating back to House Eschell's founding. Names she remembered learning about from her studies with Father what felt like a lifetime ago. Finally, she got far enough down the list to see a name.

Ranni Eschell, daughter of Rayla Eschell and Hannes (Full name unknown).

"You must be taking the absolute piss…" Nia muttered, in too much disbelief to care that she was talking to a queen.

"The date matches up with when Hannes Envia travelled to Gormott. The fact he was seeing a woman there was an open secret, but all records pertaining to the woman's identity had been lost. Until now, it would seem."

"ARE YOU BLOODY KIDDING? This has to be a mistake!"

"It's genuine. Many months of work went into making sure of it."

Nia still couldn't believe it. "Your Majesty… are you really asking me what I think you're asking?"

"Nia… as the true heir to the throne of Uraya, I am asking you to be my successor."

Nia held the book back toward Raqura, extending her arm as far as it would go as if its pages were poison. "No. Find someone else!"

"Nia, there is no one else and we're running out of time," Raqura said, taking a patient breath. "I understand this is a lot to take in, but you need to pull yourself together."

"Like hell I do, I'm not a queen! I wouldn't know the first thing about being one!"

"I'll teach you. There's much to go over, and I don't know how much time I have to go over it."

Nia's head was spinning. The Aquagardens were as tranquil and peaceful as they've ever been, but now the silence was filled by the noise in her head.

"I…I can't. I'm sorry," was all Nia could say as she dropped the book to the ground and beat a hasty retreat back up the Great Stairway. She was vaguely aware that Queen Raqura was calling after her but her voice was drowned out by Nia's spiralling thoughts.

---

The Urayan frontier town Goshen was one of the first founded by the kingdom's settlers in the new world. As a result, it was one of the most well developed. Built by the southern coast of the New Alrest supercontinent within a short day's flight to Uraya's Titan, Goshen featured an active port filled with Titan ships coming and going. It was for this reason that Goshen was Uraya's largest centre of trade in New Alrest.

North of Goshen's harbour were streets lined with stone buildings built with the smooth surfaces and curving spires that were typical of Urayan architecture, along with many more skeletons of structures that were still being built. The main street sported many shops and businesses, from bakers to butchers to traders of useful and frivolous goods alike.

Many side streets branched off from the main commercial road, twisting and turning into each other as the growing number of settlers built new homes and businesses wherever they pleased. They no longer needed to be concerned about dwindling space on dying Titans, so even these winding side streets were roomy. Among the ample residences was the occasional Inn or pub. Cmdr. Alastair Vherestrom currently found himself sitting at a table in one such establishment called the Tipsy Gogol, situated in what the locals referred to as Goshen's "dodgy end."

A large man whose age and drinking had undeniably made him larger, Vherestrom was dressed in various pieces of old mismatched Ardainian armour that barely fit him now. Despite his cobbled together appearance and persistent drinking, his brown eyes were as sharp as the bayonet on his customised steam rifle, carefully scanning the pub's other patrons from his corner table even as he took a sip from his fifth cup of cheap beer.

The only other living souls within the Tipsy Gogol were a group of four young dock workers (three guys and a woman who seemed just as much a guy as any of them) at a table closer to the bar. They seemed to be hooting and hollering every other minute, and a much older man at the table in the opposite corner somehow slept through all of it. There was a bartender cleaning glasses at his post behind the bar counter, the only sober one in the room. None of these other people gave the large man in old Ardainian armour more than a glance; one look at the scar under his left eye and the resting scowl on his face was enough to dissuade any would-be social skeeters.

Vherestrom sighed, took another sip of his shitty, too bitter beer and checked the time. Half past nine. The man he was supposed to meet here was an hour late now. If the arsehole didn't show up by the time Vherestrom finished his current beer, he was going back to the Inn. Screw him. But as Vherestrom took another sip, he saw the pub door open over the top of his cup.

The man in the white hat walked into the pub with a swagger like he owned the place. His grey duster blew behind him with the draft from the open door, and the brim of his wide white hat was dipped low, covering his eyes. But Vherestrom could already see the friendly smile beneath the pencil-thin moustache. The drunk dock workers looked up at him as he entered, and he greeted them like they were old friends, laughing and slapping their backs as the young men (and one woman) looked mildly confused as they went along with it. As far as Vherestrom knew, this man had never even been to Goshen before. He was just like that with everyone. The daft arse.

After chatting up the bartender and buying a drink for himself, the man in the white hat turned his friendly smile towards Vherestrom and gave an overly dramatic gasp, as if he had only just noticed him now.

"Well, howdy there, partner!" the man in the white hat exclaimed with the twang of a heavy Blade accent as he approached Vherestrom at his table. "Fancy meetin' you here!"

"Cut the crap, Sosem," Vherestrom said, his harsh Ardainian accent tempered by a soft raspy voice, hoarse from a lifetime of yelling at young Army recruits. "You're late."

Sosem's sunny demeanour was not deterred by Vherestrom's sour reception, evidenced by the way he pulled out a chair at the table so he could sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back rest. Like with the strangers at the other table, Sosem smiled at Vherestrom like he was his best friend in the world. Vherestrom hated it.

"Hey, you know how it is travelling the frontier on foot. Delays happen," Sosem said lazily.

"Are you sure it wasn't because you stopped in Blackrock before doing the job in Colony Gamma?"

For the first time, Vherestrom spotted a crack in Sosem's easygoing smile as he replied, "You heard about Blackrock?"

"More than that. My contact in the Ardainian Army tells me an eyewitness spotted you near the scene of both incidents, and now the Ardainians and the Urayans are looking for you."

Irritatingly, Sosem just shrugged and waved off Vherestrom's concerns with a gloved hand. "Relax, we'll be long gone by the time them lead-footed tinhorns track me here. I already got us tickets on a ship to our next target. It leaves in twenty minutes by the way, so…." Sosem then took a hefty swig of his own beer, motioning for Vherestrom to do the same.

"You know that isn't the only issue," Vherestrom said. "Blackrock is an Ardainian colony, and the client hired us to hit Urayan settlements. If you've been playing privateer for both the Ardainians and the Urayans, no amount of G is worth what'll happen if the client finds out. I do not need that coming back to me and my men."

But Vherestrom's warning was met only with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Hey, we're still good. Once we finish this next job, you and your men will have enough money to lay low for a while, and I'll…." Sosem's smile seemed to grow a little as he said, "Well, I've got other things to keep me busy."

"Yeah? Like taking on more conflicting contracts?"

"Nah, man. I'm helping out an old acquaintance of mine on a special project. Maybe one day I'll tell you about it."

With a sigh, Vherestrom just sat back in his chair, growing wearier of the man next to him by the moment. "Whatever. Just do your job and don't, y'know, go off script like you always do."

"Now don't you fret none, I'll stick to your script like stink on a skwaror!"

"Why do I not believe you?"

It was around that time that Vherestrom noticed the door open again, and a small group of three men entered the Tipsy Gogol with purpose in their steps. Vherestrom spotted a Blade with them (making it four), and right away he knew they weren't just here for drinks.

"We might have a problem," Vherestrom said, and Sosem shifted to sit properly in his chair, looking back at the mixed group of armed Urayans and Ardainians as they made their way over to the bar and flagged down the bartender.

After a moment, Sosem shrugged and proceeded to lean back in his chair, putting his booted feet up on the table and paying the new arrivals no mind. Even as the bartender said something Vherestrom couldn't hear and pointed in their direction. Slowly and carefully, Vherestrom picked up his steam rifle and held it under the table, keeping it out of sight but pointed in the direction of the group of what were clearly mercenaries. Sosem, on the other hand, just kept sipping his drink, seeming for all the world that he didn't have a care in it.

"Excuse me," the man at the head of the group said, the Blade standing beside him. He had the long ears and rocky scales on his face typical of Urayans and pushed a pair of round glasses up his nose as his gaze focused entirely on Vherestrom's laid-back associate. "Were you in or around Colony Gamma some five days back?"

Sosem, on the other hand, was slow to look up at the group of mercs now standing over him and Vherestrom. "Who, me?"

"Yes," the Urayan merc said. "You and your friend want to come outside with us? We have a few questions we want to ask you." He phrased it like a question, even a suggestion, but Vherestrom knew it was anything but.

"And who's asking the questions?" he rasped.

"Name's Zuo. I'm with the Garfont Mercenaries. We've been contracted to investigate the destruction of a Urayan colony." The merc—Zuo, apparently—gestured to Sosem. "Your buddy here was spotted in the vicinity of said colony and we'd just like to know what he was doing there."

Sosem's face was the very picture of innocence. "Well shoot, fellas. We don't know nothin' about that, but if y'all want to chat then grab a drink, pull up a chair, take a load off!"

The mercenary was not buying it. "Come with us, now. This is the last time I'm going to ask nicely."

Sosem looked at Vherestrom. "May I?"

Vherestrom looked around at the rest of the bar. The group drinking at the other table were too inebriated and wrapped up in their conversation to pay what was going on at this table any mind. The old man who had been asleep was gone, probably got up and left sometime while Vherestrom was talking to Sosem. The bartender was wiping down the old man's table, but occasionally glanced in their direction.

What a mess, Vherestrom thought before he said to Sosem, "Do what you like."

Sosem acknowledged with his usual friendly smile. Except, for maybe the first time since Vherestrom started working with him, he got a good look at Sosem's eyes. That was when Vherestrom realised that for all the warmth that rested in Sosem's smile, his soft blue eyes were utterly devoid of it. It wasn't just that they were joyless, they also lacked the fear Vherestrom had seen in so many of the recruits he had trained, nor was there any of the anger Vherestrom had seen so often in his own reflection. Those blue eyes didn't seem to hold any life in them at all.

Vherestrom took a final swig from his beer, emptying the cup as Sosem turned his similarly empty eyes toward Zuo and the other mercenaries, two of which had stepped forward, likely intending to hoist the both of them from their seats. They never had the chance, as before Vherestrom could blink, four gunshots suddenly rang out in such quick succession they could have been mistaken for one.

A smoking gunknife with revolving chambers was now in Sosem's hand, held at the hip. The Blade standing beside Zuo actually managed to get an ether shield up around his apparent Driver in the fraction of a second before Sosem opened fire. The other two men, however, weren't so lucky and crumpled to the floor.

Vherestrom saw the Urayan merc's eyes go wide as he drew his Blade weapon—a greataxe—from the safety of his shield. Vherestrom brought his own steam rifle up above the table, but Sosem just calmly raised his free hand in a placating gesture, smiling his warm but not warm smile that seemed to say to Vherestrom, Watch this!

"You'll pay for that you bastar—" Zuo's threat was abruptly cut off by a cough of blood from his mouth, and Vherestrom raised an eyebrow. He had been impressed at the speed with which the merc's Blade had gotten his shield up, but it would seem that Sosem's quickdraw had still been faster.

A red stain grew on Zuo's top like some terrible flower in bloom and the mercenary had just enough time to regard it before he collapsed to the floor, followed swiftly by his Blade. Vherestrom hadn't even noticed the bullet-sized hole in the centre of the Blade's core crystal until all of the blue ether lines running along its body went dark. The Tipsy Gogol was dead silent.

Polishing off his drink, Sosem hopped to his feet, twirling his revolving gunknife around one finger before it vanished from his hand. He stepped over the bodies with a spring in his step before turning to Vherestrom. "You comin'? Our ship leaves any minute now!"

Vherestrom looked over at the group of bar patrons at the other table, whose boisterous drinking had given way to staring in silent disbelief and terror. Sosem noticeably clocked this.

"Oh, don't worry about them, they won't say nothin'. They're my pals!" Sosem then turned his earnestly friendly smile in their direction in a way that was almost machine-like. "Ain't that right, fellas?"

The now stone cold sober young drinkers all nodded emphatically. Giving them a tip of his white hat, Sosem stepped out of the pub, and with a grunt Vherestrom stood and followed.