Departing the same way he’d come – and finding the same crowd of very angry protesters waiting outside – Gabriel ran the gauntlet to get back to the envoy’s vessel. The four soldiers who’d been ordered out of the throne room followed close-behind, and kept their vigilance until the door to that ship had closed, and the whole thing started to lift into the sky.

He called-out to the Captains of the two SkyFortresses, “We’re done here. Once you’ve collected your people, we’re going back to Trazad.”

“Yessir.” They both answered.

Xanarken had been patiently waiting in the seat he’d borrowed before, and Gabriel roughly threw himself back into his own. He kept his eyes closed as he felt the ship lift off the ground, and blindly fumbled for the window-screen to pull it down and obscure the sight altogether. The Eidolon quirked a brow, “Well? How’d it go after I left?”

“You didn’t even put up a fuss about being kicked out.” Gabriel grumbled, “I know it’s supposed to be my circus now, but they’ve been your monkeys for the last 20 years. Half of what I talked to them about, I only learned on the way here. Also…” He cracked open his red eye, and gestured a thumb at the inner wall of the vessel, “Why do those people have such a rage-boner for me? Your comment earlier implied you had an idea about it.”

“I didn’t want to contaminate the process before you got here.” The Fourth answered with a shrug, “You’re a child of Kitez but you’re also afflicted, and were raised by me, the face of everything they despise and reject in this world.”

“And they’re calling me a traitor because I’m with the Council, even though I was taken before I was ever old enough to even know where I was?”

“Sometimes people don’t make sense.”

“It was the Exclusion Zone! No one knew I existed before I turned-up with you.”

“It is what it is; I never said it had to make sense. Civilians are fickle and sometimes they come to conclusions that don’t square all the edges.”

Gabriel groaned uncomfortably, “This whole thing was such a waste… Eight hours of flying just to be thrown out on my ass.”

“You got to talk to the Duke personally though. On the first try, no less. He never talked to me at all.”

“We already knew he was going to, though. He had inquiries about safe passage into Sargon. I…” He explained, hesitated, and then sat forward against his knees. He buried his face into his palms and drew a frustrated breath between his fingers, then opened his eyes again to look through them, “I don’t know how to describe him. He’s got a rather child-like outlook on what’s going on. He was visibly upset that I couldn’t just have him come back with us right now.”

“Did you tell him the plan?”

“Of course I did. But then I had to explain to him why it was that way.” Gabriel sat fully upright, and gestured from one side of himself to the other with annoyance, “To get from here to there, it has to be done when the Kitezans are most likely to be preoccupied and least likely to notice him leaving. The obvious thing was to suggest the Dawn of Ages celebration…but he couldn’t even put that together.”

“Give him a break,” The Eidolon suggested dryly, “As much as we are ignorant to what goes on inside Kitez most of the time, they’re ignorant of the outside, as well. Maybe he didn’t know.”

Gabriel just gave him a disbelieving look, “I could forgive him not knowing someone’s birthday, but this is the Dawn of Ages. It’s the literal anniversary of the crash-landing, a date of significance for everyone here.”

“Maybe it’s a somber affair in Kitez.”

“Maybe? You don’t know?”

“Don’t you?”

Eyes narrowed, “You’re really annoying sometimes… I thought you’d be sympathetic to my frustrations.”

“I am, but if everyone around you always tells you that you’re right, you’ll never think you can be wrong, and that’s dangerous.”

“Fine…”

“But he understood in the end, I gather.”

“…Yeah.” He answered, and slouched back into his seat again, “On the morning of the Dawn, he’ll have a small nondescript skiff bring him to the Sargonian border, on top of the Connington Fragment. I’ll let the Emperor know when we get back, that the Council will provide an escort from there to Trazad, and he can take custody of the Duke on arrival. Mardu has spent a considerable amount of his life being a look-over, so it won’t be too much of a change when he does the same thing in the company of Sargonians.”

“So, it wasn’t a complete waste.” Xanarken proposed, and gestured both hands at the younger man, “Pieces on the board are moving.”

“Not the right ones…”

“Elaborate.”

Gabriel glowered slightly, “I feel like you’re only asking because you want to know how I messed it up.”

“No, but if you did, I’ll let you know.” The Eidolon retorted, “Duchess Far’nah was expecting to talk me down today, and got you instead. Even just listening to her, it’s like she was struggling to recalibrate. She didn’t get the reaction from you that she would have from me.”

“What, to all the stuff about the people aboard the Tuonela still being alive?”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, why didn’t you react to that…?” Gabriel wondered skeptically, “Of all the people who had a good excuse to react viscerally, it would’ve been you.”

“When I turned the floor over to you, I set my mantle to an idle ambient state. I wanted to be sure that nothing beyond my literal presence would cause a distraction.” Xanarken answered, and leaned back against the headrest, fingers threaded together over his lap as he looked at the ceiling of the cabin, “When I heard they were all alive, I wanted to make good on my promise right there and be done with it.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, “…So you did threaten her at the border dispute.”

“She didn’t turn the fleet around because I asked nicely.”

“…Point taken.”

Xanarken held quiet for a moment, and let out a sigh, “…We are teetering dangerously close to Rylen’s preferred outcome. Whatever restrains Far’nah had before, they seem completely absent. But did you notice how few Conclave members were around?”

Gabriel nodded, “I’m not putting much stock in it though. I know for a fact that Laurier is an ardent supporter, but he wasn’t there.”

“Mmh… True.”

“So, what do we do about all this, Xanarken?” The blonde wondered dubiously, “The Tuonela can’t just be left like this, but I can’t tell if Far’nah wants us to try and take it from her, or if she’s anticipating we’ll heel to it.”

“Well, let’s run through the scenarios.” The Eidolon suggested, “We can call her bluff on that vessel being anything other than a grave that she salvaged from the ocean floor. It’s just a big middle-finger at the Council but is otherwise a completely benign prop.”

“More of the status quo.”

“Alternatively, we presume the passengers really are alive and asleep, and it’s incumbent on us to get them back.”

“All-out war; Rylen gets his invasion, the Duchy collapses, and the Hadiran Accord accuses us of acting on a maybe. If the ship is a tomb, we invaded for nothing. If it’s full of people, we’re saviors. If we can’t confirm one way or another…”

Xanarken nodded, and continued, “Then there are variables like Prince Aamin, whose current status we don’t know. Will the Emperor feel obliged to help him? Will he abandon his own brother to maintain neutrality? What, conceivably, could Kitez do to Sargon with that one token?”

Gabriel considered it, “Aamin was the reason the Bulwark incident happened. Iresha gave up the search for him the day after. I did tell the man his brother was in Kitez, so it’s not like he’ll be caught unawares… But…I’m of the belief that he would act in favor of getting Aamin back to Trazad somehow.”

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“Why?”

“Because he threw centuries of precedent out the window when he called us in. Iresha has been consistent in doing whatever he thinks is best for Sargon as a whole. Keeping it whole is also in that Venn diagram of success.” He answered, and tapped a finger on his jaw, “If Aamin is going to be punished for what he’s done, it’ll be by Sargonian justice. Iresha will bring Aamin home. The only question is what price he’s willing to pay.”

“What price will Kitez ask?”

“The usual suspects… Kicking us out of the country, abandoning whatever deals we have in place, sending the Prince back home. Or…simply making sure Sargon minds its own business if conflict breaks-out over the Tuonela.”

“And what are your considerations for how to fix all of this?”

Gabriel lifted his head out of his palm, “Mine? Uh…well…” He thought for a moment, “I was pretty clear that I would be taking the Tuonela back regardless. After actually talking directly to Far’nah for the first time…I find myself wondering how or why you kept your shit together all this time and didn’t just take her out.”

“Is that your instinct?”

That earned the Eidolon a suspicious look, “Why do I feel like you’re leading me by the nose to something?”

“The common denominator in all of this is Far’nah. We already know that the Duke wants no part in whatever is coming. But if she ceases to be part of the picture…a lot of problems suddenly go away all at once.” Xanarken answered, almost too easily, “What are you willing to do to make problems go away, Gabriel?”

Gabriel just shifted a bit, uncomfortable with the concept, “…I think I’ve been raised to be a mediator, not a murderer.”

“Then?” Xanarken pressed, “She’s kicked you out of the country after negotiating in bad faith. She’s holding a colony-ship hostage; by her own admission, piloted by members of the original crew that she woke-up from the tens of thousands of other souls who are still aboard. She’s got the younger brother of one of our newest and most fragile allies, and we don’t know what she’s done with him. Conversely, something you have working in your favor, is the desire of the Duke to flee the country, and you presumably know the exact day and time that will take place.”

Gabriel just grumbled in frustration, “What if we just give her what she wants? She says that she wants the Council and the Accord to recognize Kitez as a legit little country, and herself as its legit little ruler. They don’t want into the Accord themselves and it’s no skin off our noses if they don’t join, except in how it bruises Rylen’s ego that he doesn’t have the whole board under his thumb.”

“Recognizing Kitez sends a message to the others though. What if they all start wanting sovereignty? It could have a chilling effect on the unity we’ve enjoyed, as it supposedly proves that the Council is unnecessary.” Xanarken countered, “Plus, it still doesn’t solve the problem of what to do about the Tuonela.”

“…I can see why you were getting tired of dealing with it. It’s much easier to appease people who are already happy.”

“Just think on it. You have some hours left before we arrive in Trazad again.”

“…Traveling back and forth from Oceanside is such a pain.”

Xanarken huffed a laugh and reached forward to pet his heir’s shoulder as he rose to stand, “We do have a solution to that.”

“Yeah yeah…” He waved the Eidolon off, “Go on and leave me here, I understand.”

.

Afternoon gave way to evening, and the sun began to set over the eastern horizon. The cityscape of Trazad passed by in the north, and the unyielding drumbeat of adamant wings continued their progress.

.

“Thank you for your vigilance, Dame.” J’ard bowed his head, and pulled the door closed on the Prince’s quarters in that high tower, “I know this is not your ideal mission, but there are many who appreciate that you do it anyway. I believe the young Prince is beginning to appreciate the lengths to which the Council will go to curry his friendship.”

“I think he’d rather swap me for Seth, to be honest.” She answered, and rubbed her eyes, “And not just because Seth is more fun.”

The veteran smiled, “I don’t think he notices the tension you feel for being here. You’ve done a stellar job of being professional. I do hope you can still enjoy the rest of your night, and we will see you tomorrow morning.”

“…Yeah… Goodnight.”

J’ard bowed his head and turned to find his own room, a ways down the hall, and Ren turned to find her way out entirely. Fingers swiped through various menus on her overlay, and by the time she’d reached the lobby on the first floor, her blues had been swapped for a woolen long-coat, a scarf to cover the collar of her uniform-shirt, and a T-shirt beneath – or, at least, the nanotech imagery that looked as such. There was no warmth to be had from such contrivances, and she braced against the chill of the evening.

Finally having some time to herself in the city though, there was one place she wanted to go, and after a half-hour of navigating her way through the metropolis with public transit, she arrived.

It was the Fafnir Memorial Plaza.

Distinguished as a place where Fafnir who had fallen in the line of duty were honored, there weren’t a significant number of names emblazoned upon it, but there were still enough. Many of the first K.I.A. dates were from the same timeframe – the year 254 on Hadira – and there were roughly 7 names bearing it.

Ren stepped up the wide granite steps, the placid sound of the memorial garden and its fountains behind her. Above, with gentle spotlights shining up at it, stood the statue of a winged warrior – one with six wings.

[To Honor Those Who Had Fallen, Fighting Against The Greatest Of Dangers]

She reached her hand forward to touch to placard, and took a step back to bow her head in contemplative silence. The plaza was a large, heptagonal space, representing the six warriors and their Wing Commander in each unit. At each corner stood a massive weeping willow, its boughs aglow with soft light from beneath, and orb-lights braided within. Viewed with a naked eye, it was already a solemn and respectful place, but behind an overlay, there was a little more going on. Above the large circular fountain in the middle of the plaza, one could access the visage of every Fafnir whose ashes had been interred there, and witness in all their glory, each of them in their full armor.

Ren sat on the lip of the highest step, and watched those images appear and rotate in her sights. Since the projections weren’t really there, their reflections were not present in the water below; a subtle reminder that those souls had departed, and could no longer be seen in the living realm. She crossed her arms over her knees, and found herself idly rubbing the fingers of her left hand.

“I wonder if Furion is planning a ceremony for Ianori…?” She asked herself, “Since he’s been officially declared, and notice given… Even though we don’t have a body to honor.”

She sighed and slouched a bit, feeling a sense of indolence hover over her like smoke. There were pedestrians walking through the space, and Ren’s eyes watched each one of them for a little while, until she finally came to speak aloud to herself about the reason why she’d come at all.

“A long time ago, I made up my mind about becoming a Fafnir at any cost, because I heard about the Limitless boy who’d been found in a far away place. Caught-up in a conflict that wasn’t even his, seeing these winged warriors zipping through with the full fury of the Sixth… And yet, instead of giving up, and submitting to fear, he seized the opportunity to be better than the afflicted who’d been made an example of that day. In spite of every stumble, and foe, and attempt to drag him down…he rose up, and proved that the afflicted are more than just people to be frightened of, like boogiemen hiding under the bed. They can be leaders. They can teach leaders. And now…not only is he an Eidolon – the highest of the high – he has made it possible for a whole nation to accept an afflicted as its heir and future Emperor.” She said, as if speaking to every Knight entrusted to the wall of names, “And I wanted to do the same thing, but from the other side. To prove that the Fafnir aren’t just weapons of pain and bloodshed. That we can rise above the reputation of being widow and orphan-makers, and be used for more than just…destroying that which we fear and can’t explain. …And now, here I am, a Wing Commander of the Fafnir Knights, our last line of defense against the Limitless who would do us harm…and I’m suffering from the success of my own dream; tasked with protecting the life of a Limitless Prince.”

She huffed a laugh and sighed into the crests of her upturned knees, and finally decided to stand up again, “I guess it only makes sense that to achieve my goals, I’d have to go through the man who’d inspired the journey in the first place. So…thanks, Gabe, for helping me get here, so I can scold myself for having the nerve to complain about how bored I am. …And, while I know that making amends with the Fafnir was never your endgame, I hope I was able to help bring you some kind of peace with it anyway.”

.

The Brother Moons were high in the sky together when Kourin found herself at the mouth of a massive clearing. The entirety of the day’s sun-lit hours had been spent carefully traversing the irregular landscape of the mountainous woods on that hoverbike – a vehicle painfully ill-equipped to do anything like it. It managed to do the job though, and as she entered the meadow, she was able to come to a brief stop. Eyes lifted directly up to that nearly-dark sky, and beheld a thing she had only been able to catch glimpses of since entering the forest so many hours before.

The vortex.

Like a mountain of swirling auroras, golden streaks danced with blues and purples, it coalesced around above a massive swath of the Exclusion Zone. The apex of it, like a far-off and impossible-to-reach summit, was directly above the place she was trying to go…and it wasn’t that much farther anymore.

“I’m so close…” She said quietly to herself, and reached again to the handles of the hovercycle. It hissed gently as she made her way across the meadow, and veered off to the east a little bit until she was just within the tree-line again. She looked around, going up and down the different rocks and gulleys, until she finally spotted what she was looking for.

Not even hidden – one would have to be mad to travel that far into the Exclusion Zone – was a skiff only slightly-larger than Maeve. It was thinner and pointier at the nose though, and bore a normal tinted windshield, with more conventional, stubby wings and tail-fins. Kourin quickly abandoned the hovering bike that had brought her so far, and scuttled her way over to the side of the vessel.

“Oh…my Lucid Dream…how I’ve missed you…” She cooed, and draped her small frame over the ship’s dusty nose-cone. Just as she touched it though, the vessel began to come alive with lights and sensors, and its headlights shone its beams into the mottled woods. The side-door opened, and Kourin quickly hopped in; the interior was, by far, less dusty than the exterior, and she quickly reacquainted herself with the layout. Once settled though, and sat into the pilot’s seat, Kourin reached for a small palm-sized device that had been set out onto the console. She pried it open like a clam and set her thumb into a circular sensor at the bottom. The sensor glowed green with her touch, and the whole device came on. A few clicks later, she put the device back onto the console and waited, hearing the proverbial hold-music as she busied herself with getting her skiff airborne.

Multiple seasons-worth of dead foliage was pulled free as the ship rose out of the trench, and carefully turned, weaving between the large tree-trunks until finally arriving into the clearing again. By the time she got above the canopy, she finally heard a voice in answer.

“…Ohmigod…how long has it been this time…?”

“Hey, Phex.” She answered with a smirk, “It’s been four years. I’m on my way to you now. Figured I’d let you wake up and make yourself decent before I get there.”

“E.T.A.?”

“Roughly 20 minutes.”

“Ugh okay… Are you bringing me something this time?”

“After the crap I got for forgetting last time, I wouldn’t dare forget again. See you soon.”

“Cya soon, ‘Rin.”