The Order of the Solar Storm shares similar topography to the lower part of Shinia but far less tame. It is ruled by wild forests, massive unconquered mountains, and huge plains, filled with wandering beasts. On its eastern side, it turns to huge steppes that span for kilometres without end and are almost constantly subjected to powerful winds.

Excerpt from the introduction to ‘Power Geography – Salor Takana’

It had been a little under six months since Erin, Sammath, and Ashe had tried – and failed – to take out the slave operation. Officially, Erin’s mission had been a success; she’d collected documents that had implicated Valour Akantha in the operation of the slaving camp. When Erin had decided, with Sammath and Ashe, to free the slaves, though, she counted that as part of her mission and what happened at the camp, while called a nearly flawless success by the queen in her official statement to the people, the ‘only three casualties’ were like heavy stones in her head, weighing on her mind. Erin had been too weak and too inexperienced, even with all of her training. So, when the casualties combined with the fact that Cababasi, of all… people… had to step in to save her from Valour, well, that mission had already been written up in her mind as a catastrophic failure.

Six months had passed since Erin had given the invitation, one that her mother had told her to extend and her father had – surprisingly – approved of, to Sammath and Ashe to live at Dawnblaze manor and she hadn’t seen them more than three or four times. Perhaps in some sort of attempt to prove herself, Erin had thrown herself into her assigned missions, completing a ridiculous fourteen missions in the six months without any issues or complications, but it just didn’t seem to matter. No matter what she did, no matter how many successes she’d had, Erin couldn’t seem to shake the fact that it felt like she’d failed. Every mission that she’d completed just felt like she was trying to compensate for that one thing. Erin knew it was stupid; very few people could’ve done better while still being at her stage; but that logic didn’t make her feel any better.

Erin was just finishing up her fifteenth mission, running through the backstreets of Slipen city in order to get away from a number of sword-toting, Bloodline wielding thugs. Weaving through crates and urns of water, around the refuse like fruit cores and broken down wood that littered the ground, through the clotheslines that were strung between buildings in what little space people had. As she did so, she noted that her father needed to have a talk with Vallimar Slipen, the Count who was supposed to govern the area that this city was in, about the detrimental effects that having rusty nails and decomposing food lying around could have on the population. Not only could it make people sick, primarily the people that weren’t at the Baron Stage, but those sick people would unnecessarily strain the health system that Queen Bloodletter was trying to publicly implement and take money away from other projects. Individually, of course, those people would be barely any strain on the funding of the public health initiative but, when it stacked up to a city or even a county, there was a lot of money being spent that would be better utilised somewhere else. Paying to clean the streets of the city was cheaper than paying mercenaries to go and hunt for herbs or beast parts in bulk and then paying alchemists to brew the potions needed to cure peoples’ ailments.

Erin snapped back to the present as an arrow whistled past her, tearing a hole in some sheets hanging across the alleyway. “Come back here, Lianna!” Called one of the thugs that Erin was running from but Erin ignored the woman. Erin heard the creak of the bow behind her and grinned slightly; the adrenaline rush from the mission really was something she loved. Eyes darting back and forth, cataloguing everything in the alleyway ahead, Erin charted a path that should, as long as nothing broke under her weight, allow her to climb the buildings and reach the rooftops without revealing her Bloodline. With a spinning jump to avoid the arrow that struck through the air to Erin’s right before clattering along the dirty, cobbled grounds of the alley, Erin placed her foot on top of a broken crate and leapt to the other wall of the alleyway.

A loud snap indicated that the crate had broken under the force of Erin’s jump but she’d already figured that out when she hadn’t jumped nearly as high as she’d expected. Improvising slightly, Erin hoped that the clotheslines would be strong enough to hold her weight. Reaching up, Erin grabbed onto the line above her and pulled herself up onto the line. Balancing on it like it was a loose tightrope, Erin dropped down, her weight making the tightrope sag even as an arrow flew over her. For a second, she thought that it would drop her to the ground as the paint around the rope’s anchors cracked but it seemed like the line was made for heavier things than Erin as it held. Pushing back up and to her feet, Erin used the clothesline to fling herself up and onto the roof.

Not exactly what Erin had planned; she’d planned to switch back and forth between the walls, pushing off them to climb them but the clothesline worked too. On the shingles of the roof, Erin scrambled back from the edge so she couldn’t be shot. Erin lay down, listening to the thugs in the alley. Feet pounded to a stop and Erin could imagine the expressions of shock on their faces as they looked up. “What the fuck was that?” One of them finally spoke up.

The woman leading the thugs, Talya, replied, “I have no idea…”

“Don’t look like she was who she said she was, boss.”

A thump echoed out and Erin, breathing slowly to calm her racing heart, winced slightly; that was solid. “Awww, boss. What was that for?”

“Stating the obvious. Now come on, we need to figure out what the hell we tell the big boss.”

Erin rolled to her feet and set off across the rooves, heading for the nearest Sarin clan house. Erin pulled a sheaf of papers out of her spatial storage and ruffled through them as she ran lightly across shingled rooves. Avoiding any spots that looked to have dubious structural integrity, Erin made quick time across a few blocks and then slipped down off the rooves, into an alley.

Once her feet touched down on the cobbles, Erin immediately grabbed new, less shabby clothing from her spatial storage, swapping the attire for the papers in her hands. Making sure no one was nearby; Erin quickly changed and left the alleyway. Within a few minutes, she was at the Sarin clan’s rather inconspicuous headquarters in the city. Entering the bakery façade, Erin nodded to the baker and waited for the customers to leave before leaning on the counter, “I’m here for an interview. I heard there was a position opening up for a new baker.”

The baker behind the counter nodded to the back and Erin slipped around the counter, heading out to the courtyard with the oven. One baker in the back was working, shaping the bread into loaves and, when they saw Erin, they pointed silently to a floor tile. Without a word, Erin treaded to the tile and lifted it up before climbing down the ladder. No light illuminated the shaft and Erin presumed that was because any light could shine through the cracks around the tile and alert people to the presence of the hidden entrance. At the bottom of the shaft, light shone around the cracks of a door and Erin pushed it open to find herself in a well-furnished room with dozens of desks. Everyone had their heads down, working, and muted conversations – likely about work – filled the air with a light drone.

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Papers were neatly organised on every desk, efficiency being the goal of the House of the Crescent Blade, and people were working at what would be considered a breakneck pace, should they be at the First Stage. Everyone in the room, however, was at least at the Second Stage, the Viscount Stage, like Erin was. Wood-panelled walls surrounded the room, making it feel far less like the room was deep underground, and Erin headed to the nearest available desk to make her report and drop off the papers. Taking a seat, Erin waited for the worker behind the desk to look up and glance at her, “Name?”

“Erin Dawnblaze.”

Quickly scanning down the list of current operations that had likely been duplicated by a Copy Rune, the man found Erin’s name and grabbed an empty folder and some paper. Erin handed over the evidence and gave a quick mission report, which the man noted down and placed inside the folder with the evidence. Then, after handing the file off to an aide, he turns to Erin, handing her a piece of paper that would give her a pass through the portals, “You currently have standing orders to return to Dawnblaze Manor. The portals will be standing by for your use to return to the capital.”

Erin gave the man a quick nod and stood up, climbing back up the shaft and heading out of the bakery, towards the portal. The rest of the mission would now be handled by the House of the Crescent Blade, so Erin didn’t have to worry about anything from that point onward.

Taking the portal back to the capital, which took at least an hour with the wait times for the transportation, Erin found herself back at the entrance to Dawnblaze Manor in a little under two hours, after liberal use of her Bloodline to hasten her travel. In front of Erin, the doors swung open and she entered the grounds. Immediately, she was greeted by the head servant, Wendar, “Good afternoon, young mistress.”

“Good afternoon, Wendar. How has the manor been running?”

“Everything has been going smoothly, as usual, Miss Dawnblaze.”

“And the others’ training?”

“It has been… progressing. Young master Ashoka has taken to his training with plenty of enthusiasm and a moderate amount of talent. The resources that the house lord have provided have been a great boon to his development. His intelligence and dedication, though, are unquestionable and his knowledge of Runes and Ink efficiency have both improved dramatically. Sammath, however, has been… difficult for the trainers to work with. His lackadaisical attitude and disregard for authority have many of the instructors… frustrated and many have expressed a desire to punish him for his attitude. The combat instructors, particularly, but they’ve also been able to release their feelings somewhat.”

Erin sighed. She hadn’t done that very recently but, as soon as Sammath’s antics came into the picture, she slipped right back into the habit, “I’ll try to sort things out with him.”

Wendar bowed slightly, “Thank you, young mistress.”

Erin nodded to Wendar, “Will that be all?”

“No. Your mother would like for you to attend to her in the study. I believe she has some sort of task for you. That is everything I wished to inform you of.”

“Thank you, Wendar.” Erin set off for the main manor, down the gravel driveway, and pushed her way through the main doors, which swung open on well-maintained hinges. Greeted by a grand staircase carpeted in plush crimson, Erin took the stairs to the second floor and, not even heading to her room to clean up and drop off her equipment, made straight for her mother’s study in the western wing of the manor, which was opposite to where her father’s study lay in the eastern side of the manor. Wandering down well-decorated halls, lined with tables and drawers, expensive friezes, paintings and portraits of Erin’s ancestors hanging from wood-panelled walls, suits of armour and costly vases, filled with out of season flowers filled empty space along with priceless bowls and tiny statuettes of precious metals. Glowing light Runes illuminated the hallways as no windows let in natural light.

It took nearly ten minutes, but Erin made it to the door of her mother’s study and knocked on the dark, wooden door. Of course, with Illin’s hearing, she would have known that Erin was there but it never hurt to knock just in case she was absorbed with her work. Silence reigned for a few minutes before Illin Sarin called out, “Come in, Erin.”

Erin entered her mother’s study to find her mother seated at a large, dark wooden desk. Like with nearly every noble’s desk, papers and books covered nearly the entire desk and Erin’s mother seemed almost swamped with the amount of work she had. To be fair, Illin wasn’t a noble – just a high ranking member of a noble family – but her work in running the House of the Crescent Blade, Arikar’s intelligence and espionage organisation, kept her very busy.

Warmly smiling, Illin stood up from her chair, stepped around her desk, and embraced Erin. Strong arms wrapped around Erin and the red-haired young woman wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it, even if she’d wanted to. Erin hugged her mother back, just standing in the embrace for a few minutes before Illin stepped back, sitting on her desk and, still smiling, “How did your mission go?”

“It went well. Nothing unexpected happened so my infiltration went smoothly. It was simple enough to gain access to the gang’s offices and documents and, from there, escaping was quite elementary.”

“That’s good. And you’re well? You didn’t take any injuries during your time undercover?”

“No. I’m in peak physical condition.”

“What about mentally? Emotionally? Are you doing alright? I know that, sometimes, getting close to people and then betraying their trust, time and time again, takes its toll. Not to mention the constant pressure of potential failure. Do you need a break at all?”

“I don’t believe so, but I also don’t have your experience with operations like this. If you say I need to take a break, then I’ll take one.”

Illin smiled, “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Erin’s mother straightened up, pushing herself off her desk, “I’ve been speaking to your father and, while he’s determined to think that this is the best thing for you, his perspective comes from his King Stage power where he barely needs any breaks, even mentally, to continue working. He has acknowledged that even professional soldiers get more downtime than what you’ve been given. Additionally, I’ve managed to convince him that, while you do have a lot of training, you would benefit greatly from some world experience and making your own personal contacts with people outside of Arikar. Not to mention the real-world strategic knowledge you could gain from going abroad.”

Erin frowned at her mother, pursing her lips, “So what exactly are you saying?”

Illin smiled at Erin as she walked around her desk to sit back down, “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“But!”

For the first time, Illin’s face hardened as she looked up at Erin from where she was beginning to scan documents again, “No, Erin. You’re going. That’s final. And you’re taking Sammath and Ashoka with you. We’ll be having a going away dinner as a family tonight. The royal family and your friends will be joining us and your aunt may come along, too. It depends on whether her duties pull her away. Where you go tomorrow and how you get there is entirely over to, uhhh, I believe the Volkarian called you three Misfortune. Not the most auspicious of names,” Erin smiled lightly at the wordplay, “but I’ve heard worse.”

Illin put her head back down and refocussed on her work. Erin took the dismissal for what it was and left the room, closing the door behind her. Now that she’d seen her mother, she headed to her room. Erin still had all of her weapons and tools from her time undercover to clean and maintain, and then she needed to work out what she was going to take with her in her time away. Because it was an indeterminate timeframe, though, with no indication of where Erin was going and, therefore, what she’d need, she was going to have to pack things to account for every single situation she could think of and, being honest, probably more. Every single weapon she knew how to use; she was going to have to take a weapons and armour spatial storage; every single tool she knew how to use; probably another storage item, there; and a whole closetful of clothing, makeup, and disguises for every scenario.

That was not to mention all of the food and supplies that Erin would need to bring along, if she could get access to any. Would Erin be allowed to take any beasts from the stables or a carriage or cart to take along larger supplies? Probably not; her parents would probably consider that too much external assistance. Even as Erin relaxed into the bath in her room, hot water soothing her muscles, she was thinking about everything that she might need to pack and everything that could happen in the near future.