Imperial Agent Cymryn,
While Earth is not yet open for general visitation, a small group from the Empire would be welcome to visit and learn something of the unique nature of the planet. An informal visit is preferred. Formal diplomatic protections will not be provided.
Please be aware that Earth is not a Consolidated World and the Power Protocols of the Empire are not applicable. A detailed analysis of sociopolitical conditions is available only self-referentially; it has not been converted to Imperial nomenclature.
Minimal guidance is available. Please limit the visitors to no more than six.
Imperial is unknown among the general populace and Bridge is rare. Several of the local languages appear to share linguistic roots with Ketrean, though the language has drifted far enough to be unrecognizable. Linguistic support is recommended and will not be provided.
If you wish to visit under these limitations, inform me and we will arrange to have a direct portal reception allowed for your group.
May you walk in the Blessings of your Calling,
Blaze
Oathsworn
Cymryn re-read the message. It was short and to the point, but there were complexities hidden beneath the surface. It was almost rude with its bluntness, but there was something to be read into that as well: whoever Blaze was, he did not feel the need to be anything more than minimally polite to Cymryn. That was a message in its own right; either he didn’t know how much power Cymryn represented … or he knew and didn’t care.
Cymryn leaned towards the second option. He’d outright named Cymryn an Imperial Agent and left off the courtesy Lord title. That was impolite in nearly every culture, since Cymryn signed his own messages as “Lord Cymryn.” It also indicated enough knowledge of the Empire to guess what the correct generic title was from what Cymryn had included. That wasn’t a message of ignorance, it was a message of power.
On top of the title, the unidentified Blaze had very clearly laid out that this was not a treaty visit; instead, it was a visit to “learn something of the unique nature of the planet.” Most single-world polities imagined that their planets were somehow unique while they weren’t, but Cymryn had to grant the possibility that Earth was. Blaze knew too much about the Empire to believe that one of the common World Variants was actually unique.
On top of that, there was an indicator that the planet was actually unique: most Worlds would not support direct portal reception from another sector. There was a reason trade wasn’t direct except by ship; the Voice wouldn’t open portals to a world that couldn’t support it. Either Blaze didn’t know that or there was definitely something odd about Earth. Even Emperor’s Rest couldn’t support a direct portal from farther than about half a sector away.
Perhaps Blaze simply assumed that Cymryn wouldn’t try to travel that far in a single portal? Portal costs were far higher when you tried to make the distance in a single jump instead of several. That was a disappointing answer but it had a decent chance to be true. There were two ways to find out; he could ask or he could simply try it when the portal was authorized. He was currently well outside the standard portal range, but -
Cymryn stopped himself short. There was a third way to check. It was usually a bad idea since it would give his current location away to anyone monitoring on the other end and would reveal that he was looking, but he’d just been invited to travel by direct connection. It was perfectly reasonable to check prices and he was already at a portal node. He quickly navigated to the appropriate section and requested a price for a direct portal to Earth.
Direct Portal not available: Shroud Protocol
Direct Portal Cost Estimate: 2500 Etherium
Cymryn stared at the estimate. That was an insane price. He’d never convince the Baron to let him spend that much on travel, not for a single portal trip. On the other hand, that response said that it was possible. To make sure he wasn’t just out of his mind, Cymryn changed the destination to Restali, the Baron’s World.
Direct Portal not available: Out of Range
Direct Portal Cost Estimate not available: Out of Range
That was the message he expected. Earth was definitely unusual. This was definitely going in his next report.
Cymryn navigated back to the message and looked over it again. There were three things left of note: the reference to Ketrean, the title of Oathsworn, and the farewell message. The simplest was Ketrean; it meant Blaze was a scholar of the classics. Cymryn knew enough to know what the language was; it was one of Imperial’s precursor languages, after all. That didn’t mean he knew the language; there were at least six commonly-known historical variants of Ketrean. He wouldn’t have been able to identify a descendant language, but that wasn’t Cymryn’s field. He had specialists for that.
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The title of Oathsworn sounded simple, but combined with the mention of Ketrean it was a declaration of allegiance. Oathsworn had a very specific meaning in the ancient epics: retainers who had come from outside and chosen their Lord rather than been chosen by him. It had some strong connotations of loyalty but that was really all Cymryn knew about it.
There were few Oathsworn around these days. Cymryn suspected they’d always been rare; after all, most mercenaries were perfectly happy to take a Lord’s coin without swearing to his service beyond what they were paid for. Also, what Lord would accept an outsider in that far?
An Oathsworn who used that particular phrase, May you walk in the Blessings of your Calling, was especially strange. Cymryn recognized the salutation; it belonged to a rather famous group who moved around the edges of the Empire. They were not precisely welcome in the Empire but they also weren’t forbidden; they were simply too useful.
Why would one of the Walkers pledge to an outsider? The Walkers were insular, working when they were hired and otherwise staying away from people, even people who lived nearby. They only accepted people who converted to being a Walker in their settlements, and they had an oddly high success rate. As far as Cymryn knew, the Walkers were one of the few groups that the Empire had continually low levels of success for planting Imperial Agents to watch the communities. The Walkers always knew.
That was going to get the Baron’s attention for sure. Cymryn seemed to remember that Blaze was one of the people with Serenity on Asihanya; he was the healer, if Cymryn remembered correctly. Cymryn would never have guessed he was a Walker.
----------------------------------------
Senkovar relaxed his link to the World Spirit. It did not trust him at all and it had made that extremely clear, but it was also growing desperate. It was exhausted and didn’t know why. All Senkovar could do was reassure the World Spirit that it would pass with time.
If only he could be more confident he was right. Most of the time, he was; the World’s tier might dip a bit, but it would recover within a few centuries. Unfortunately, the new Eaters had Senkovar worried. They didn’t seem to be content to stop with only a Tier or two of damage; he’d actually seen two planets where the World Spirit was destroyed or at least damaged enough he couldn’t reach it anymore.
Senkovar himself was tired. He hadn’t worked this hard in millenia; not since the end of the Terror War had his strength been so necessary or so inadequate.
“No luck?” The voice came from a spot about a foot in front of Senkovar. It was empty, but that didn’t mean no one was watching him from there. Instead, it just meant that the person who was watching him wasn’t willing to be seen by anyone other than Senkovar. Coyote knew Senkovar didn’t have to see him.
Senkovar snorted. “Of course not. The World Spirit can’t tell me what it doesn’t know and it doesn’t know what’s going on. This isn’t like the Wall of Fear.”
“I’ll tell the Council. They’re demanding another report.” Coyote sounded almost as tired as Senkovar felt.
“Don’t go into too much detail,” Senkovar told the troublemaker. “See if any of them get information you don’t give out. I’m giving a comprehensive report to the Imperials.”
“Smoking out divided loyalties again? Fair enough, I’ll let it be. Make sure you ask in time for anything you need; the Eaters have our attention, and it’s not just because of the Empire.” Coyote repeated words he’d told Senkovar several times over the past few months. The repetition had to be a sign of just how tired he was.
Senkovar snorted. There really wasn’t anything that Order’s Council could help him with these days. He didn’t lack for resources; the Empire was covering that. No, the only real limitation he had was help. “Unless you can get me someone who can talk to planets better than I can, I’m not sure what to ask for.”
Coyote’s immediate laugh was a surprise. “Funny you should say that.”
Senkovar didn’t bother swearing at the trickster. After a line like that, he was gone; Senkovar knew him well enough to know that. He should also know better than to give Coyote such a good opening. “If only I thought you’d follow through.”
Senkovar picked himself up from the floor and headed out to see if his Imperial minder had any more news on the situation on Eklimat. He doubted it; the only news they would get would be if something happened that was visible from the ship picketed near the dying World. Any news would be bad news.
Cymryn wasn’t there. Instead, there was a hand-written note. That was a surprise.
World Shaman Senkovar,
I apologize for my absence, but I have been recalled to report in on another mission. I would have told you in person, but you were in consultations with the World Spirit and this was not urgent enough to pull you out of your trance.
I will be gone for no more than three days. When I return, I expect to have an offer for you; do you remember Serenity, the man I mentioned who resembles you? I have been invited to observe his homeworld. I plan to request permission while I am away and will include you in the visit request if you desire.
Lord Cymryn
“By all the gods,” Senkovar swore. “How did I forget about that?”
He knew exactly how he’d forgotten: he’d been busy. More than that, he still couldn’t quite believe that there was someone out there with his horns. The Suras bloodlines were simply too thin; yes, they threw up a sport that resembled the old phenotype occasionally, but it never had the power. That was why he didn’t have a successor, after all; all of his apprentices died and other bloodlines had other Paths to power.
Combined with Coyote’s teasing, however, Senkovar found that a spark of hope refused to die. Maybe there was still someone out there he might be able to teach. It wouldn’t be a relative; the Et’Tart lineage was long since played out, especially after the purge a few generations back.
An apprentice would be more than enough. It had to be, and anything was better than nothing.