Thunder cracked loudly as the Aegis made its final approach towards Trazad, pelting the side of the SkyFortress with a wall of rain. The jolt of noise was enough to startle Gabriel awake, and he looked around that spacious room nervously. The floor-to-ceiling windows on his left were nearly as dark as night, with the sun blocked by those heavy storm-clouds, and what could be seen through the haze was too far away to make-out properly.

Gabriel perched backward against one arm, and lifted the other to rub his eyes, “…No way I’m going back to sleep now…not that I slept much anyway…” He said to himself, and dreaded to get up and make himself presentable for the day. Another rumble of thunder overhead got him moving though, and he did his best not to let his heart burst out of his chest for how nervous he was.

Yet, there he stood at the doors that led out of his room, and he got an error message for his attempt to load his uniform from the temporary local Cloud. When he checked the available networks, the one that the Aegis had brought with it was no longer visible, and he was stuck reconnecting to the main World Cloud again. The dreaded moment came at last, and he waved his hand in a gesture to load the jacket. He closed his eyes as he heard and felt the sand-like swirl of nanotech coalesce around him…and when he opened his eyes, he drew a quick breath, and looked down at himself.

What was one the simple sleeveless long-coat of the Fourth, colored mostly in red and empaneled in dark grey with that silver trim, was now a fully-black ensemble with red embellishments. He could hardly see the regular, physical portions of his uniform, covered and hidden as they were by the nanotech regalia. The jacket was more like a cloak then, though still technically sleeveless, hanging from his shoulders on both the back and the front, parted in the middle of his chest where a clasp held it together. The ends of it touched the floor, and within it, covering the fabric that was still hidden beneath, was the dark, leather-like folds of an armored jerkin. Belts crossed over from each hip, holding up yet more layers of flowing material that went down to his ankles.

Gabriel was baffled by the whole thing; he couldn’t even see the entirety of the outfit and he was already horrified. He frantically pulled up his contact list and sent out a distress-call to Ren, “C’monnnnn pick up pick up…!”

“Hello?” She asked blearily through a voice-only connection, “What’s with the early call? Shouldn’t you still be sleeping?”

“He changed it! My uniform! It’s ridiculous! You gotta help me…” He pleaded, “Or at least bully me into not being mortified.”

She blinked slowly as she stared ahead in the Captain’s darkened room, “…Bully you? Is that what you think I was doing before?”

“Please don’t make me beg.”

Ren just snorted a tired laugh, “Maybe I should anyway…”

“Ren!”

“Ahh fine, fine…I’ll be there in 20 minutes…” She answered, and disconnected the call. She turned back into the warmth of those blankets and pressed up against Furion’s bare back, “I gotta go.” She said into his ear, knowing full-well he’d heard every word of what she’d said, “Apparently it’s worse than he thought.”

Furion reached up to thread his fingers through her hair, and tilted his face towards hers, though he couldn’t see a thing in the dark, “Do you want me to come?”

“Do you want to come?”

He questioned the thought for a moment, but then pushed up onto an elbow, “Eh sure…why not. Not every day you witness the panic of a pseudo-Eidolon.”

Ren just flicked his arm with a laugh, “You’re terrible.”

As promised, 20 minutes later, Ren was at the door, and she waved her hand in front of the digital knocker. She took a step back and waited, with Furion yawning quietly beside her.

The door parted a little bit, and that frantic blue eye peeked through, “You brought the Captain…?”

“Yeah, he was helping already.” She answered easily, “Open up.”

Gabriel grumbled slightly, nerves rattling in his ears, but he let the door finish sliding over, and gestured for the duo to enter. Once they were in and the door closed again, he could only slouch where he stood, “Look at this craziness. He went too far.”

“You’ve got a halo now?” Ren commented, pointing at the elaborate faintly-glowing sigils hovering behind his head.

“I have a what!?” Gabriel answered, terror in his voice as he tried to spin around and see, “What do you mean I’ve got a damn halo!? No one but Nie is this extra, and she’s had 300 years to use as an excuse! Xanarken is going to make me look like a fool!”

“Nie?” Ren echoed.

“…Uh…Etienne. It’s…a nickname.”

Ren smacked her forehead, “Do you know the Third Wing on such personal terms, too?”

Gabriel deadpanned, “No. Lord Arbelos keeps an exceedingly low-profile for an Eidolon. I’m not even sure I’ve ever met him.”

“I think it looks kinda cool.” Furion shrugged, “Oh, it even has the Council’s logo embroidered to the back. Those most be the wing-tips coming up over your shoulders.”

Gabriel just pulled the cloak’s hood over his head and crouched to the floor, “This can’t be happening… I can’t even see any of that…”

“Own it, Lugios. You’re not going to have another chance to make the most of it.” Furion countered, and crossed his arms, “Your Eidolon is giving you a lot of responsibility. You should look like you intend to wield that power like an adult.”

“…You’re right…” The mediator answered quietly, a hint of a whine in his voice despite the agreement. He rose back up to his feet and pulled the hood back, “…But I still feel like this is too much. I look like a villain.”

“Maybe you can ask Lord Xanarken to tone it down?” Ren suggested, and started pacing forward to get a closer look at the whole thing as she circled around him, “It probably wouldn’t be half as loud if it didn’t have the halo.”

“I think he probably put it there to make me look important…” Gabriel wondered, stepping off as Ren got behind him, and went into the bathroom. The light clicked on as he stepped through the door, and in that wide wall-length mirror, he beheld his reflection in shock, “…I certainly look more intimidating than I do in just the regular reds.”

“You could do your hair different.” Ren added as she came up to lean on the doorframe, “Maybe the braid again like in Kitez? So, your whole look isn’t hidden under the cloak.

Gabriel just pulled the ponytail up from where the regalia had formed above it, and dropped it again, partly covering the center of the Council’s logo where the six wings arose and spread behind his back, “I only braided it then cuz I was nervously waiting for you to change.”

“Oh. Why nervously?”

He glanced back over a shoulder at her, and reached to click off the light before leaving the room again, “Everyone was saluting you and I had no idea why. I wasn’t sure what was going on anymore. Knowing now, that you were still – and always were – Wing Commander…well, it makes sense now…”

“Even I didn’t know I was Wing Commander at the time. It was just as much a surprise to you as it was to me, how they all acted.” She pointed out, and stepped aside to make room for him, “In any case…have you found out anything else? Like when Lord Xanarken is supposed to call the meeting? Furion’s calendar hasn’t updated with anything yet. We checked on the way down.”

“Nothing yet…” Gabriel answered sullenly, “There’s no way he’s going to wait though.”

“Correction.” Furion interrupted, “It’s tonight. I just got the alert. Lord Xanarken must’ve just scheduled it.”

“Tonight?” The mediator lamented, “…Well…guess I was right.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“He couldn’t make you wear the new ‘fit without telling people why right away.” Ren agreed, “I’d say I’m happy for you but I’m still a bit bummed about it all.”

“I’ve been thinking about that…” Gabriel started, and shook his head as he faced the pair, “If I have as much power as Xanarken claims, then…I can at least do some things that I want without needing to ask permission – within reason, anyway. I was able to see the plans Xanarken has for the ceremony to take the Prince to Agartha.”

Ren glanced at her Captain, “You probably know those, too.”

“It’s nothing too special. But, he did arrange for the Fafnir to fly alongside the Sargonian Imperial flagship. Make it a big spectacle.” Furion looked to Gabriel though, “…Why?”

That made the mediator feel a bit bold, and he gave a guarded smirk, “I’m gonna swap you two out.”

“Heh?” Ren stammered, “How? What do you mean? You can’t just make me Captain and him Wing Commander in my place.”

Gabriel waved his hands back and forth and laughed, “No, no, obviously not…I just mean in the formation. Xanarken had Wing Commander One and Two at the head of the procession, while the Captain stayed on the Aegis. I’ll put Captain Rydell in your spot, and you can come hang-out on the flagship.”

“Oh…okay.” She said warily.

“You’ve been my partner for a few months. Even though things are changing…it would mean a lot if you would come do the hand-off with me. I’m sure Iresha would appreciate it, too, considering you clobbered him.” The mediator explained, “Not to apologize, mind you…but just to show-off why you were able to. Kind of a fun reveal, if you will. How many Limitless users can honestly say they got beaten-up by a Fafnir Knight and lived to tell the tale?”

Furion just glowered in shock at the woman, “You smacked a Prince?”

“In my defense, he’d just roasted four people, and his eyes were still doing the thing…smacking him was the least I could’ve done.” She answered, shoulders shrugged up a little, “If I had my way, I’d have done it sooner. Maybe it would’ve saved some of them.”

“Will you accept, then?” Gabriel wondered, “Both of you, I mean. I’d rather not do it if you want to keep to the original plan.”

“I’m fine with it.” Furion said simply.

“Sounds kinda fun.” Ren agreed, “Sure.”

Gabriel looked happy for the first time in a while, “Great. I’ll amend the outline. Then I’ll figure out how to get Xanarken to turn off the special-effects on this outfit so people don’t make fun of me for a whole new set of reasons.”

.

Prince Iresha watched as the behemoth SkyFortress pulled into the bay beside the palace, turning slightly to bring its port-side up against the cliffs. There was still an unambiguous air of grief hanging over the capitol, but Iresha had done his best to suck-it-up and get on with things. Nothing he could do would bring his mother back, and further still, would never change the fact that it was him who had ended her life.

He drew in a breath and turned to head into the main body of the palace, fully restored to the elaborate robes and armor-like decorative plating that the Sargonian royal family was well-known for – albeit, fully in black, with a single pale-gold sash from right shoulder to left hip, to signify mourning. He found his father in his study, “…The Aegis is here.” He said quietly, and stepped around the backs of the chairs in the fireplace alcove, and found a seat on his father’s right side, “…Hard to believe it’s already time.”

“There’s still a few days left.” The Emperor corrected, “But I take your meaning. It’s a big step, for you and Sargon. But I have faith you’ll do great.”

“Is this what mom really wanted, in the end?” Iresha the Younger questioned, “Putting herself in that position, going directly to a Luminary Captain to bring the Inquisition here… Wouldn’t it just have been better to ask me if I’d go to the College willingly?”

“You were unapproachable about the topic, as you may well remember.” The Elder reminded, and put the book down that he’d been reading, “You’d convinced yourself that Sir Gabriel had taught you everything you needed to know.”

“…She ended up dying for this cause though.”

“She did. It wasn’t how anyone expected things to go.” The older man said quietly, and fell silent for a few moments, “…You must never blame yourself for what happened.”

“I try not to, but…”

“No ‘buts.’ The way it turned out is exclusively the fault of my brother. His fear and anxiety over your development overtook his senses, and he stopped acting rationally. Your mother did the best she could to redirect the problem he’d posed. If only we’d known sooner…but…” The Emperor pushed up on the chair’s arm-rests to stand, and went over to the windows, seeing for himself as the cliffside bridges were lowered to join-up with the Aegis’ flanking exits, “All we can do now is…our very best.”

“Won’t this mean that Sargon is joining the Accord though?” Iresha asked carefully, and joined his father at the glass, seeing the ship through the mist of the passing storm, “We’ve asked so much of the Council, and they’ve done everything and more for us. Yet, neither the Eidolon nor Lugios have never broached the subject directly.”

“No. They’ve been rather diplomatic about it.” The Emperor agreed, “The Fourth knows the delicate nature of our situation with Kitez. With the Duke being a distant cousin of ours…it would be imprudent to just ask us to make a move that might offend the Duchy.” He turned on a heel and put his hands on his son’s armored shoulders, “There must first be justice meted upon the Sixth for what they’ve done in the Exclusion Zone so many times. Until and unless Lord Rylen feels genuine remorse for how his actions there have alienated Kitez, Sargon will…continue to maintain its distance.”

“So, we’re just using the Council and have no intention of ever giving them what they want.”

“There’s intention. There are caveats, however.” The Elder pat one shoulder and pulled his hands back, then turned to make his way towards the doors, which were opened for him by palace guards. In turn, they quickly followed after the duo as they passed through, “We are not friends doing one another favors, each one vying to equalize the debt to the other. We are a nation that has taken care of itself for three centuries, and the Council is…nothing more than a colorful bird, trying to impress us. We are free to refuse them if we are not sufficiently impressed.”

“…I think I understand.”

“The incident aboard the Bulwark was enough for Lord Xanarken to send Sir Gabriel away for a while. But he told me that he’s going to be giving full authority to Sir Gabriel as early as tonight.” The Emperor continued, heading down the long, winding, circular ramp that took them from the study on the upper levels of the palace, to the ground floor, “That Knight will only be one nanotech-mantle away from being a full Eidolon. Be sure to afford him the proper courtesy. No more of this…callous disregard for his station. You can no longer afford to be rebellious with these people.”

Prince Iresha just scoffed under his breath, “…As long as he’s just a colorful bird trying to impress us…”

The Elder huffed a quiet laugh, “Now you’re getting it. I was hoping you would.”

Iresha looked on quizzically then, “So I can keep acting rebellious?”

“Maybe tone it down a little bit. You’re going to be representing the Empire in Agartha. We shouldn’t try to make them think we’re all rapscallions.”

“Fine…fine…” The Prince sighed in his agreement, though he still thought it was a little funny.

Within the Aegis, nervous hearts were pounding as they waited for the go-ahead to be given by the bridge. The doors finally hissed though, and the cold mist from outside poured in through the cracks as the panels shifted aside. The walkway was completely soaked, and though the rain had largely subsided by then, there was still an obvious light pouring, and puddles on that textured metal rippled with each fallen droplet.

Gabriel – with his ponytail pulled over his left shoulder in a carefully-woven braid - inhaled a long, careful breath, and stepped forward with a hand up, fingers outstretched towards the grey skies. With a clockwise rotation of his wrist, he manifested a barrier that would keep the rain off of them as they stepped outside, and he took the first step, flanked by both Wing Commanders, and their Wing Groups behind. He spotted the Imperial entourage there in the fog waiting for them, and approached dubiously, the elaborate halo of nanotech-manufactured light behind his head making him feel silly.

Prince Iresha leaned towards his father, “He really is a peacock now, even if a rather disquieting-looking one.”

The Elder snorted a laugh under his breath, but shook his head and cleared his throat, “Don’t say that to his face.” He advised, but then stepped closer to the edge of the bridge to offer the Empire’s formal greeting, “Welcome back to Trazad, Sir…ah, Lord Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s heart launched straight through the top of his head – or, at least, it felt like it – but Furion’s words echoed around in the hollow space that now filled it, and he stood up a bit straighter, “Not until the announcement, Your Majesty. For now, Sir is still just fine.”

Ren quietly looked over at Donivan, but neither said a word. There was a knowledge in that silence. Those green eyes then turned towards the Prince, who was just…staring at her, as if he’d never seen a woman in blue before. She smiled, gave the tiniest little wave, and snickered under her breath as Iresha flinched and looked away again.

“So, you come at the head of a procession of Sixth Wingers,” The Emperor continued, as he turned to gesture at the canopies carried by his minders. Gabriel stepped forward, and the two Wing Commanders turned on their heels to dismiss the rest of the Fafnir before following after him. The Elder walked alongside the would-be pseudo-Eidolon, “Quite an unexpected showing for the Fourth.”

“Lord Rylen has given his blessing to offer the Aegis and the Fafnir Knights as a personal escort for Prince Iresha.” Gabriel answered, “So…they’re here for you, not for me.”

“I heard as much. If he shows himself, I’ll properly give my thanks…but in the event that he doesn’t, be sure to send my regards and appreciation.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Will Captain Rydell not be joining us?”

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at the slightly-shorter man, “The Captain has to give some unfortunate news to a family that isn’t expecting it.” He explained, “He departed from the Aegis about 45 minutes ago. He should be back by tomorrow, though.”

“Did he go in his flying armor?”

“He did, Your Majesty. Why?”

“Would it be impertinent to request that he brings it with him when he arrives?” The Elder wondered, “I’ve been so curious about what it looks like up close.”

“The Captain’s specifically or the Fafnir armor in general?”

“His specifically.” Iresha answered, “I remember when his father wore it at that unfortunate meeting 22 years ago. It was one of the last times my mother, the late Empress, acted in her capacity. Before the riots, you see.”

“…I think I do.”

“I’m interested in how his differs from his father’s. The Fafnir Knights have always represented a…certain kind of thing, to the people of Sargon and Kitez. I would like to see under whose command I’m entrusting my son to for the voyage.”

“I’ll…see what I can do.” Gabriel answered awkwardly, and turned his eyes back to Ren on his right flank. She gave a nod, and they all continued their walk into the palace.