The world flickered, and he was in a different place. A similar place; this teleport pad had been built according to the same standardized design as his own, right down to the panels of stonework high in the walls which he knew were concealed windows from which he was no doubt being watched.
There were more guards, though, both soldiers and battle mages, and a formal greeting party awaiting him in front of the entry corridor.
“We have arrived,” declared the portal mage who’d brought him. Perhaps unnecessarily, but Madiin appreciated formality.
“Thank you,” he said, turning to the man and bowing, then stepped forward to greet those who had come to welcome him.
This was almost overwhelming; he had to draw upon his reserves of poise, finding himself unexpectedly in the presence of royalty. Though she wore no diadem at the moment, being dressed only in a Sovereignty military uniform, the dragonborn who stepped forward revealed her parentage by her coloring: her scales and horns were that distinctive, shimmering bronze, her eyes a vivid crimson. She wore her coppery hair in a long braid, per army regulation. Beyond that, Madiin didn’t know which this one was, save that her mother was apparently Missari to judge by her skin tone. He’d only been granted an audience with the Sovereign once, it wasn’t as if he was personally familiar with the royal family.
“Commissioner Madiin,” she said, saluting in the military fashion. “Welcome, and thank you for attending us so swiftly. My father is quite taken with your work in Shima Vaat; it’s an honor to finally meet you. I am Nashma.”
That threatened to leave him actually tongue-tied for a moment, but Madiin managed to recover himself with a bow and a reply. “Of course, Princess Nashma. Surely the honor is entirely mine.”
She smiled, beckoning him forward, and fell easily into step alongside him as he obeyed. “Is it, though? Any fool can be born royal; I happen to know a few fools who were. To achieve rank purely through merit, through talent and industriousness—that is praiseworthy. It is on citizens like you that the Sovereignty depends.”
“I…don’t necessarily disagree, of course. I know well the Sovereign’s position on meritocracy. But there is no citizen who doesn’t know whom we have to thank for our prosperity.”
“Forgive me, it was thoughtless of me to put you in that position.” Her smile was reassuring; Nashma was reputed to be down to earth, and popular among her troops. “Having to argue about who’s more worthy with a member of the royal family, what a sticky predicament. I’m a woman of action more than words, Commissioner, I wasn’t trying to trap you. Suffice it to say that your contributions to the Sovereignty are known and appreciated here.”
“Thank you. I hope to make many more.”
“I feel certain that you will.”
He hadn’t come here by portal mage last time, and thus did not realize how close the platform was to the throne room. Madiin was just following Nashma and her honor guard with no real idea where he was or where they were going, until after a very short journey they emerged into a space he recognized.
It was here, in the vast octagonal throne room, that he had had his previous audience with Savasmittar. That had been a public occasion, though. Now the cathedral-like space was dimmer, lit by hanging lamps and the last dusky glow of sunset through its towering windows. It was much less crowded, as well, with only royal guards securing its entrances apart from the group at the base of the throne itself.
That “throne” was a huge dais, not a chair, as the Sovereign preferred to conduct state business in his greater form. As Nashma led him directly across the huge space, Madiin took note of two other dragonborn with bronze scales standing by the throne, and a small knot of well-dressed individuals nearby. So, only family and trusted advisors were here for this meeting. Even as he noted this, of course, his perception was preoccupied with the colossal, beautiful form of the dragon.
“Mandar Madiin,” Sovereign Savasmittar greeted him with a courteous dip of his head, his mellifluous voice seeming to resonate through the air and the very stone of the chamber. “We meet again. I am pleased to see that you continue to thrive. Welcome—and please accept my earnest apologies for so peremptorily summoning you here at this hour.”
He seemed to glow even more brilliantly in the lower light than when Madiin had previously seen him, when the full sun illuminated the throne room. Savasmittar’s scales were bronze in color, but each in two subtly differing shades, so that rather than being all one tone like a bronze sculpture he glittered and scintillated with every tiny movement. Something about the lamplight seemed to magnify the effect. The overall tint drifted across his body, too, from a deep almost-red along his spine to a nearly golden shade at the belly, with jagged striations of black weaving across his back just behind the wings.
Before he had decided to try his giant hand at governance, Savasmittar had been known chiefly as one of the world’s most beautiful dragons.
Doing his best not to be dazzled at the expense of dignity, Madiin knelt before him as soon as he had drawn close enough to converse. “No apology is necessary, my Sovereign, ever. I am your servant to direct as you see fit.”
“I appreciate your diligence, Commissioner Madiin. Please, rise. My citizens are not pieces to be tossed about on a board, however. I regret bringing you so far at this hour on a day in which you have undoubtedly already been more busy than most—particularly when I fear the concern which has prompted me to summon you may be an overreaction. When we have finished, I will gladly offer you the hospitality of my home, unless you would prefer to return immediately to Shima Vaat. You need not rush to decide.”
“I thank you for the consideration, my lord,” Madiin said, inclining his head again now that he was back upright. “How may I serve?”
Nashma had stepped over to join her two siblings—a young man lounging indolently against the base of the dais who seemed to have a different mother, and another princess who resembled Nashma to an uncanny degree, save that her hair hung loose and she wore an embroidered sari rather than military uniform. The others in attendance, mostly Missari humans with one of the local Kharnet elves among them, remained silent and watchful. Apparently this conversation was to be between him and the dragon alone.
“Commissioner Dasaat is being promoted to Minister,” the Sovereign stated, crimson eyes watching him closely. “He will be transferring to a position here in the capital. In light of your startlingly successful reorganization of your department, I have decided to assign you his previous position as Commissioner of the entire customs office of Shima Vaat.”
Madiin’s breath caught. “I…thank you, my Sovereign.”
“Congratulations, Commissioner. As I continue to explain, it will become clear that the timing of this has been prompted by events outside our expectations. I wish to reassure you, first, that only the timing is thus influenced. This is the logical action, made so by your established competence. Already your reforms have been used to model improvements in other offices, though with somewhat lesser results in each. Once you have had time to settle into your new role, I intend to begin assigning you secretaries whom I would like you to train in your methods, that they may be transferred to other posts and hopefully introduce similarly successful reforms.”
He was practically vibrating in place now, his weariness from the long day faded like a dream. “I understand, Sovereign. I shall see it done. I may request a period of introduction in which to familiarize myself with command of the overall office before I will have sufficient attention to give to management trainees.”
“Communicate with your superiors in the Border Ministry; I will make it known that you are to have what you require. And now, to the matter which has prompted this presumptuous summoning. As I suspect you already anticipate, I wish to ask you about the extremely interesting visitors who passed through your checkpoint this morning.”
“Ah, yes.” Indeed, he’d seen this coming as soon as the summons had reached him. “The dragon Pheneraxa and her associates. Everything I have been able to determine was in my report, Sovereign. Of course I stand ready to answer anything you wish to know, but I fear I may have nothing more of use to tell you.”
“That is why I feel remorse for bringing you here so abruptly, Commissioner Madiin—that, and because in the likeliest outcome, it is nothing which could not wait. The possibility of a crisis requiring immediate action is very remote. Given the potential stakes in such an unlikely event, however, I chose to err on the side of caution. For this rough handling, again, you have my apology.”
Madiin bowed his head once more. “I am always honored to be of service. What would you ask of me, my Sovereign?”
“That which is not contained in reports crafted according to procedures I have carefully implemented to emphasize dry factuality. This I have done for good reason, and been satisfied with the results. There come times, however, when I believe a more personal perspective is better. That is what I would ask of you, Commissioner. As an experienced professional, as someone who has encountered many people and learned to anticipate and address their needs… What were your impressions? Your personal observations.”
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“I see.” Madiin spoke slowly, buying seconds which he spent rapidly gathering his thoughts. This was not what he had expected; it was almost disorienting, that the Sovereign seemed to think so highly of his insight. “Very well… I spoke with them only briefly myself, but…upon reading the reports of the Silent Service who followed the four all day, I found that they added depth and context to my initial impressions, rather than contradicting them.”
“Such intuitions are precisely why the personal insights of experienced professionals are of value,” Savasmittar said. “Please, continue.”
“Initially, my assumption was that the dragon Pheneraxa was naturally in charge of the group. This was challenged when that man, Kaln Zelekhir, appeared to have authority over her—at least, she accepted a harsh rebuke from him, seemingly without offense. About that point, I remain uncertain after studying the watchers’ accounts. They spoke of several points at which he seemed to exert authority over the group, but for the most part appeared to play the role of mediator. That might fit my initial impression that Pheneraxa employed him for that purpose…or he might have been the dominant individual in the group, but favors peacemaking and manipulation as a leadership strategy. Such a method is not to my own tastes, but I have seen it used before.”
The dragon nodded. “You did read the report of the Conservatory mage who identified what Kaln Zelekhir is.”
“Yes, my Sovereign. I am embarrassed to admit I had to ask my office’s mage lieutenant to explain what a godling is. Even she had never seen one.”
“There is no shame in that,” Savasmittar assured him with a smile. “Godlings are an exceedingly rare phenomenon, of relevance only to some very particular specialties among scholars and the priesthood. I myself was aware of them only due to my age; in the great fullness of time, one tends to encounter even the most remote of happenstance. But please, I am interrupting. Do continue, Commissioner.”
“Yes, my Sovereign. The relationship I just described was the focus of my own curiosity, mostly because I am uncertain how to parse it. Pheneraxa is likely a very young dragon, as none of the offices I consulted were aware of the name, and I am given to understand it is impossible to know exactly what powers a godling may have. It is difficult to imagine him suborning a dragon, however, any dragon. And most tellingly, their interactions suggested friendship. It may not be a matter of dominance between them. At least, I can’t conceive any dragon, no matter how young, would take being coerced into service with anything but bitter, violent resistance.”
Savasmittar nodded. As, in unison, did all three of his dragonborn children, the princesses solemnly, their brother with a smirk.
“That, in fact, appears to summarize the nature of the group: they are friends. An eclectic batch, perhaps, but bonded by companionship. The likely exception is the portal mage, Shadrach, who appears to have been hired as transportation and held himself somewhat aloof from the group. It is notable that the rest appeared to take his very acerbic attitude in stride. He is more distant from them, but seemingly regarded with some fondness. And the primary pair seemed fond and protective of that rather timid Valefolk girl, Percy. In a relationship that seemed mutual; she was repeatedly seen turning to one or the other of them for comfort or protection when startled by something new in the marketplace, including once on the platform under my own eyes.”
He hesitated, thinking carefully, and nodded. “That, I think, was the essence of it. They reminded me of a party of adventurers, or a group of school friends, or perhaps army trainees. Three of them were clearly very exceptional individuals; other than that I would see nothing untoward about the group. Just…kids on a shopping trip.”
Madiin paused again, frowning as he scraped his brain. “That is my impression, my Sovereign; I don’t think I can add anything else of note. If you have more specific questions, I will of course answer to the best of my ability.”
Savasmittar turned his head to regard his knot of nearby advisors, several of whom bowed in reply. He looked then at his children; Nashma remained impassively at attention while her sister nodded to him and the prince shrugged, flicking his claws.
“Thank you, Commissioner Madiin,” the Sovereign said at last. “Again, I regret dragging you all this way for such a prosaic purpose, but it has solidified my thoughts on the matter as I hoped. The account you give matches both my own interpretation of these reports, and the analysis of my counselors. It remedies my unease to hear it validated by a man of established good judgment who saw this group firsthand.”
“It is my honor to be of service, my Sovereign, in any small way. No apology is necessary.”
“There is more I wish to tell you about this matter,” the dragon continued gravely. “First, though this news is too fresh to have become widely known—and may never be a matter of interest this far away—it is known to my intelligence gatherers that approximately a week ago, the princess of Boisverd, the Evervale kingdom in which Atraximos has his roost, was abducted by a dragon. Her name is Perseverance.”
Madiin’s eyes widened as he took in the implications. The Sovereign watched his expression closely as he continued.
“One version of accounts claims she was taken by Atraximos himself. I do not believe this. Atraximos is a contemptible beast and a disgrace to our shared kind; the only use he has ever had for mortals is the disgusting pleasure he takes in their suffering. One of the young drakes still residing at his nest is said to be a red dragon, however. That seems to me more likely to be the reason for this misinterpretation. Another interesting fact which did not make it as far as the reports given you was that she was, in fact, wearing a magical artifact which slipped through the customs scans: a dragonscale anklet charmed to provide a measure of protection against dragon attack, or draconic notice.”
Madiin winced. “Ah. I apologize profusely for that oversight, my—”
“There is no need, Commissioner,” Savasmittar assured him. “Its caliber was within the tolerances we expect to slip through customs from time to time. Aside from her… The portal mage we have not yet identified, but I have people working on that. A description and first name should be sufficient; it is exceptional for an individual so young to be that powerful. There will be records of him somewhere in Rhivaak. I am less confident about the most interesting member of the party, as Kaln is evidently a common enough Rhiva name. But we shall see what can be seen.”
The dragon shifted on his perch, flexing his claws.
“Obviously, something unprecedented and exceedingly interesting is transpiring in Dragonvale—and, to a lesser extent, in Boisverd and Rhivaak. From this glimpse we can barely begin to speculate as to the true shape of events, which it would probably be a mistake to do. My analysis, and that of my advisors, is that Shamissar’s role in this is done. Whatever the children of Atraximos are scheming, it appears most likely that they came here to fulfill their needs specifically because Shamissar is so distant from and not connected to their business. It is apparent from their activities that the purpose of their trip was to gather what a young lady of good breeding would need to live in comfort. We shall learn as much as we can of this situation from this distance without exacerbating it, but as things stand, it does seem that no threat to the Sovereignty exists.”
Madiin nodded. “I am relieved by that analysis, my Sovereign.”
“Unless,” the dragon rumbled, “I choose to involve myself.”
Nashma remained outwardly serene, while both of her siblings grimaced. The nearby advisors huddled together, a few whispering. Madiin remained as firmly composed as he physically could.
“My first responsibility, it goes without saying, is to my people. I will do nothing to imperil their interests. Among the intriguing and disturbing possibilities suggested by the little we have been able to glimpse… Between the involvement of Atraximos and the presence of Rhiva, there are two indications that these events may come to affect Izayaroa herself.”
Madiin blinked. “Is…she connected to Atraximos, my lord Sovereign?”
“That is not common knowledge,” Savasmittar rumbled, “and I advise you not to repeat it. You will face no retribution from me, Commissioner Madiin, but not for no reason is it proverbially unwise to meddle in the affairs of dragons. But yes—while the specific nature needn’t concern you, Izayaroa has an arrangement with Atraximos which protects Rhivaak.”
That much was, though not known, so widely speculated that even historians took it as given. There seemed no other obvious explanation why the Dread would refrain from pillaging a human empire so close to his own range.
Savasmittar, moving slowly so as not to alarm the mortals before him, drew himself upright, raising his neck to the full, towering height which made apparent the reason this throne chamber was of such enormous proportions.
“That which I know of governance I have refined through practice, but learned originally by studying the writings of Empress Izayaroa. From following her example has come great prosperity; Shamissar owes her a debt. As do all nations upon this world, whether they know it or acknowledge it or not. From her long centuries of experimentation has come a source of wisdom in the art of civic administration which has no peer in all of history. Every person in every kingdom who lives in a more enlightened system than squalid medieval oligarchy owes at least a percentage of their security to the Golden Empress. Shamissar stands proud because Rhivaak laboriously stood up from the muck, and showed us all the means to do so.”
“Yes, my Sovereign!” Madiin burst out when he paused, uncharacteristically unable to contain himself. The fervor in Savasmittar’s voice was just so infectious, particularly to someone who already agreed with his argument. “All her writings are of crucial importance, but Izayaroa’s Third Treatise on Management is my scripture. I do not fancy myself an innovator—whatever I have achieved, I’ve done by implementing the wisdom laid down by you and by the Golden Empress.”
The dragon before him smiled, clearly pleased. “Ah, I thought I discerned the shadow of her hand in the work for which I previously acknowledged you, Commissioner. And thus…you see my dilemma. As head of state, I have but one duty, and it does not indicate a need to step anywhere near this business. As a person with a sense of honor, who knows whereof springs every happiness I have been able to create for my people… That becomes more complicated.”
“’The state has neither friends nor morals,’” Madiin quoted from Izayaroa’s own writings, “’only interests. And yet, high among its interests is the need to maintain the aspect of friendship and morality.’”
“’A person who has only interests without principles is the worst of scoundrels,’” Savasmittar continued, baring his terrifying teeth in an approving smile, “’and a nation which composes itself of such souls is doomed. Thus, the cold machinery of governance must maintain in the hearts of its citizens all the virtues that it cannot afford to retain for itself.’ Yes. I did think you would understand, Commissioner Madiin.”
“What is your will, my Sovereign? How can I help?”
“You see, now, why I have done these things in this manner—why I expedited the promotion which you had already earned, and brought you here to verify your good judgment with regard to this matter in particular. Again, it may well be that nothing will happen, that I will have achieved nothing save to set the right person in the right place to improve my citizens’ lives, in which case it will still have been a good day’s work. But it may also be that our…peculiar friends will revisit us. If they are up to no good they will most likely take a different entry, but if their intentions toward Shamissar truly are innocent, it is probable they will prefer the safe, established route. I charge you, Commissioner Madiin, with keeping a discreet watch for this among your other duties. Make arrangements such that if this group ever crosses your threshold again you will be informed, and can move quickly to alert me and then observe them closely. You are not to interfere with them unless they break the law or present a threat to the people. Otherwise…learn all that can be learned.”
“I understand, my Sovereign. I will do everything in my power.”
Savasmittar dipped his neck deeply to nod at him. “Acknowledging the likelihood that, as I have said, nothing further will happen with regard to us… I have nonetheless taken steps to ensure we continue to observe and gather what information we can about this business. I will invest such resources as I can afford to prioritize gaining this information without imperiling Shamissar’s interests. There exists, amid the probabilities, a thread of possibility that must be considered, a chain of ifs which I cannot afford to ignore. If it should prove that Empress Izayaroa faces some peril as a result of this, if it is possible for me to come to her aid, and if this can be done without endangering the citizens who are always my primary concern… I cannot in conscience abandon her. Whether she knows it or not, this nation owes her too much.”
Madiin knelt before him again, bowing his head. “I understand, my Sovereign. I shall pray that these efforts come to naught—but if it transpires that we may help the Golden Empress, you can count on every aid of which I am capable, however humble it is.”
“I thank you,” the Sovereign said solemnly. “Truly, Mandar Madiin, you are among my most appreciated servants.”
The dragonborn prince heaved an exasperated sigh.