Jace and Kinfild stepped into the hall. The doors slid shut behind them.

Jace stuffed his hands into his pockets and chewed his lip. He was about to stand before royalty—of some sort. He tried to look anywhere except for the end of the hall, where he expected to see a throne. He looked high up into the rafters, then at the beams of colourful light filtering through the windows. The swirls of dust were too distracting, though, so he looked down at the long rows of risers that lined the center path. They were covered in perfectly boring, green cushions. It gave him a place to look that wasn’t whatever noble he was about to meet.

They reached the end of the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Jace spotted a simple wooden throne carved with sharp lines. A voice said, “Kinfild of the Crimson Table…to think that I should see you here. And with a companion, no less.” The voice was bold and deep, and the man it belonged to spoke with confidence. “Should I assume that this is a worldjumper?”

“This is Jace Baldwin,” said Kinfild. He fell to a single knee, and Jace did the same. “Your assumption is correct, First Attendant; he is a worldjumper. But he is not the reason I am here.”

“No?” the First Attendant sneered. Jace finally turned his gaze forward, and found himself staring upon a hunched man.

The First Attendant of the Starrealm sat alone on the small throne, dressed in a black military-style coat and pants. His gray hair was cut short, and he had a thick mustache. His build wasn’t terribly massive, but neither did he disappear into the seat—he was as average of a ruler as they came, Jace supposed. Even his awards, holographic military badges projected above his breast pocket, were unobtrusive.

Behind him, a pair of the Hall guards stood, armed with plasma rifles and sabers. Both of them turned their heads towards Jace, and he flinched. Their armour was shiny and embossed with white etchings, and a helmet covered their head entirely. He couldn’t see their eyes past their visors—a thin, black slit that had to be difficult to see out of.

“Have you begun to train the worldjumper, then?” the Attendant asked. “Are you hoping that I know of an instructor you could pass him off to, is that it? Or do you wish for elixirs and pills? I will pass it off to my aide. He’ll know who to send you to.”

Once the Attendant’s voice faded, Kinfild calmly said, “I am here to warn you of an attack. Byseg Stenol had betrayed us. He has betrayed the entire galaxy, and he is planning to attack the Starrealm with a force of kobolds. You must be ready to stop him. If you do not move your army into position, the Celacor System will be trampled. Your army will look like an embarrassment, and your prestige as the defender of the galaxy will be gone.” Kinfild slowly stood up. “I am requesting that you temporarily move the Third Capital Fleet to Celacor, so that you may better defend the star system if an attack comes. The local defenses will not be able to withstand such an attack, and Stenol is counting on it.”

“I do not have the authority,” the First Attendant stated. “Such a large movement of starships would be noticed by all. The Celacor System lies on a triple-border between the Phélese Empire and the Koedor-Terginian Empire. They would see it as a threat.” He flicked his sleeve. “A majority of the Ministers in the Parliamentary Court and the Speaker of the Hall must approve such an action.” He paused once more, then narrowed his eyes. “And this is all assuming I believe you, but I'm struggling to. Where is your proof that any sort of attack is coming? We’ve received no word that the Wall has been breached.”

Jace scowled. He kept his mouth shut as long as he could, but he wasn’t able to resist forever. He muttered, “Stenol is smuggling kobolds through the Wall. You can’t just let the Celacor system be invaded.”

“What was that?” demanded the First Attendant. Kinfild opened his mouth, but quickly, the Attendant cut him off. “I am in no position to command the fleet, especially not on the ramblings of a boy whom I’ve only just met. The Celacor System possesses a local defense fleet. If there is a threat, it will be handled by them.”

Kinfild tried, “But—”

“The Parliamentary Court will not condone such an act. It would destroy the public image of the Ministers who voted for it—that is the simplicity of our situation. Unless there is a war waged on us, nothing will be done. We must be attacked first, and only then can the fleet be moved.”

“You would stand by—”

“I am unable and unwilling to.” The First Attendant rose to his feet. He pushed himself up with a gold-gilded cane and marched towards Kinfild. “Why now, Kinfild? Why now, of all times? My people shield you from the darkness, but you…you seek something from me. You hate the Starrealm, I know it, and you’d like nothing more than to see me replaced or deposed. You wish to lure me into a terrible act of war, is that it? So I may be overthrown?”

“I said nothing of the sort, Attendant!” Kinfild snapped. “Your paranoia is getting the best of you. I only urge you to defend your people and your lands.”

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“And I do.” He scowled and thumped his cane against the ground. “I work within the confines of my government, Wielder, and I follow its rules.” After heaving a sigh, he said, “Leave me. Leave, now.”

Jace stood up as well. He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but the guards flicked the safety catches of their rifles off. That was enough to make him raise his hands slightly and take a step back.

He looked over his shoulder, hunting for a way out of the hall. His eyes caught a glimmer of dark green in the risers, and he inhaled sharply. He thought he saw a distant human, a woman, but he couldn’t tell for certain. Whoever it was marched towards the end of the hall. The guards opened the door, and the distant silhouette stepped outside.

“Come with me, Mr. Baldwin.” Kinfild grabbed Jace’s wrist and hauled him away—back towards the entrance of Artanor Hall. They crossed the hall as fast as they could, but it was still a long walk. The guards at the other side heaved the doors open a crack again, allowing Jace and Kinfild to step out onto the concrete plaza in front of the hall.

Jace paused in front of the hall. He dropped his arms and swivelled in a circle, taking in the city view. Aside from Roteac (and he wasn’t sure if an ecumenopolis even counted), this was the largest city he had ever seen.

“Aertes,” said Kinfild. “That was what this city was called. The birthplace of men, and their strongest bastion.”

“Strongest?”

Kinfild snorted. “It could be better. It could be much worse.”

“So…what now?” Jace inhaled slowly. He wasn’t the ‘plan guy’, for sure. But he figured that, maybe once, it would help if he chipped in an idea or two. He opened his mouth, ready to spill the first idea that came to mind (no matter how poorly-formed) when, halfway across the plaza, he spotted the same human-shaped silhouette. She was closer. Jace blinked a couple times, then narrowed his eyes. She wore an emerald-green dress, and had the same dark brown hair as the First Attendant.

She had been watching the conversation.

“Do you see her?” Jace asked.

“I do,” replied Kinfild.

She was still watching them. She must have wanted something, and maybe, if she had been in the hall, watching, she could help. Without another word, Jace broke away from Kinfild and marched across the plaza. The woman began to walk toward them as well. She strode with a motherly confidence—and certainly, she was old enough to be Jace’s mother.

“Kinfild,” she said, with a soft speaking voice. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Then, she turned to Jace. A grave look overtook her face. “I wish I could say the same for you, worldjumper, but it is not for lack of politeness.”

“I understand,” Jace said softly.

“I must apologize for my father,” said the woman. “Everywhere, he sees enemies, and never any friends.”

“My Lady Fairynor.” Kinfild bowed his head. She reached out her hand, and he shook it. Then, she offered the same courtesy to Jace, and he shook her hand as well.

“The one and only,” Lady Fairynor grumbled. “I don’t suppose it was difficult to guess. Commander Fairynor is off beyond the Wall, leading the expeditionary forces and earning all of the glory.”

Kinfild offered a small smile, but Jace said nothing. Kinfild hissed, “This is the daughter of the First Attendant—one of two.”

“I got that, yeah,” Jace whispered back. Then, he raised his voice and looked at Lady Fairynor. “I saw you watching us. Is there something you would like?”

She sighed, then lowered her shoulders. “My father has not been the same since our mother died. Only two heirs, and both daughters. He hasn’t taken any decisive actions in…oh, going on thirty years. You’ll get nothing from him, but I would see the Starrealm victorious. I would help us win a glorious battle.”

“Help?” Kinfild asked. “What could you do for the people of Celacor?”

“Graltir V,” she explained. “It is a naval base within a half-hour hyperspace jump of the Celacor System. It would be natural for starships to gather there, and the other empires would see no threat. I could prepare a fleet and an army there without violating any treaties or drawing the attention of our neighbors. But I cannot move that fleet unless it was an absolute emergency.”

Jace’s eyes widened. “As long as we can prove that there’s been an attack, you would aid us? And you would arrive in time?”

“I can’t let my sister fight all of the battles, now, can I?” She folded her arms behind her back and straightened up in a military fashion. “I can have the Eighteenth Edge Fleet ready to move within thirty-six hours. All I need is for the Celacor System to request my aid—along with a shred of proof—and you’ll have your reinforcements.”

Jace glanced at Kinfild. The Wielder raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Come on, Kinfild, this is our only chance. I—no, lots of people—need you to trust her.”

“Very well,” said Kinfild. He bowed his head again, and met Lady Fairynor’s gaze. “Will a telesignal be enough? An emergency, Primary-Coded telesignal?”

“From the Celacor Telesignal outpost?” Lady Fairynor asked. “Certainly.”

“That outpost will be their first target,” Kinfild muttered. “We need to depart immediately. It was a pleasure meeting you as well, my Lady, but—”

“One more thing,” she interjected. Then, glancing at both of them, she whispered, “Watchmen have landed.”

“More?” Jace whispered.

“A group of three, inbound from Celacor VIII,” Lady Fairynor said. “A champion of mine has been monitoring their transmissions.”

Kinfild muttered something under his breath, and it sounded a bit like a curse, but Jace couldn’t say for certain. “The thegn would play both sides. Of course he would. He might have stalled them, but he wouldn’t have wanted to appear as though he was working with a light-aspect Wielder.”

“Wait, a champion of yours?” Jace whispered.

“I have many champions in many places,” Lady Fairynor said. “If you meet a Watchman called The Ashen, you must trust him. He serves me.”

Kinfild took a step back. “Yes, my lady. Thank you.”

Jace gave a short bow, then stepped back. “We need to get out of here. And fast.”