Chapter 63: Diplomacy 9
The cool night air blew Elania’s hair as she sat on the roof of the estate alone.
Yolani was still snoring in bed, loud enough to be heard from the open balcony door.
Her emotions felt muted thanks to the after-effects from the ambrosia—Ember hadn’t mentioned it was an aphrodisiac—mingling with the change in her [Divine Essence].
Too much energy coursed through her to sleep, so she probed inward. Her essence was different.
In Neftasu her seraph form had made her numb, logical, laser-focused on her mission to the exclusion of all else—or at least it had tried. It had waxed and waned as widely as her [Power] levels had.
The same [Divine Essence] as a demi-divine was different. She felt slightly detached, separate, like a bird looking down at civilization, but still connected.
A feeling of warmth fed into her through all the thin strands of gold that converged upon her from the nearby floating islands; of course, the strongest came from the massive conduit of trust and belief from the room below.
A slow gift of [Divine Power] trickled to her through those connections, from things as simple as the belief that she was doing her best to protect and help them.
Elania swallowed and took a deep breath. There was no reason she couldn’t be down in the bed with her heart, snuggled up in a warm ball of bliss.
Except…
Except there was something in the air.
Tension.
She couldn’t explain it, but it felt like a thousand needles hovering above, waiting to fall, a slight pull in all the threads, coming together subtly in an attempt to warn her.
She could see the threads of the other demi-divine clearly if she wanted, and somehow, she could feel the tension in those lines just as she did in her own.
Elania had become attuned not just to her own followers but to the people of Contia as a whole.
Elania’s eyes slid to the central island, where the Celestial Engine was housed in the astrolabe chamber. She knew what had caused the connection.
It had consumed some of her essence—it wasn’t hers anymore, but it had been part of her once. It resonated through the engine and into the city.
If she had lived in the city long enough for the cycle to happen naturally, this would have always been the result, but her expulsion of essence had sped the process up a thousand-fold.
Elania stood up.
[Divine Power: 3336/5000]
That was better than she had hoped, thanks to the ambrosia. Really, she wasn’t that weakened. It just felt that way.
Her [Divine Power] ticked up a single point. She’d recover quickly once her [Regalia] was bonded. She could feel the metal on her hip and forearm slowly becoming a part of her.
It was hard to think of words to describe the sensation.
But the incessant warning in the air made it impossible to relax.
Elania spread her wings and took to the sky.
She glided through the air, divine wings carrying her effortlessly over the city. The cool night breeze whipped through her hair as she surveyed the wharfs below.
Airships lit up the docks, their lights twinkling against the clouds below. One thing caught her eye—the larger number of heavy ships.
The Towers had been busy, and it looked like most of the merchant ships had been converted into warships. Dozens of artifice weapons lined their decks. The subtle conversion from trade to war was impossible to miss.
The Lightbringer ship was still docked close to them.
A slight smile appeared on Elania’s lips. A message to the blessed Bishop Lefarne?
Elania banked, turning her flight path towards the Neftasu District.
Where abandoned, dilapidated buildings once stood, now streets full of lights illuminated the night. Several patrols of guards walked in opposite directions, carrying artificed lanterns. The Neftasu Guard Barracks and Neftasu Council Building shone like beacons, lighting up the area around them like twin Christmas trees.
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The new bastion—her “Tower,” if they stayed long enough—had grown rapidly, reaching upwards like a finger, trying to climb to the stars.
Elania banked again, aiming toward the estate, but a purple glint caught her eye on one of the spires that overlooked the wharfs.
She angled for that instead.
A lone figure stood on the spire’s highest balcony. Arlois had her purple wings spread wide, a soft breeze constantly ruffling the feathers.
What was she doing out at this late hour?
Maybe she felt the same tension?
Elania looped around the spire twice, then landed beside Arlois.
“What is going on?” Elania asked.
Arlois’ gaze remained fixed on the city below. “There is an ill wind in the air tonight.”
Elania nodded. “I felt it, too.”
That drew a glance.
“Is it something we can do something about?” Elania asked.
“No,” Arlois said. “There is nothing solid. Something is going to happen, and it won’t be good.”
Minutes passed by in silence as they observed the city.
“You’re more attuned than before,” Arlois finally said. Her gaze drifted to the revolver on Elania’s hip. “And you’re finally taking my advice.”
Elania frowned. “I was already doing so. It just took time and effort to put it into action.”
Arlois turned back to the airships. “I’m glad you and the refugees arrived in Contia.”
Elania blinked. She hadn’t expected such sentiment from the other woman.
Before she could reply, a flash of light lit up the city.
A massive fireball erupted upwards from the wharfs followed by a deafening explosion and wave of wind ripping through the air.
It was at the far end of the docks, away from the warships, at least.
“What was that?” Elania shouted.
Arlois stood stoically. “The airship magazines.”
“How?” Elania asked.
Arlois sighed, her wings folding. “The Lightbringers likely have an insider.”
“Why don’t we do something?” Elania asked.
Arlois shook her head, a bitter smile appearing. “I’ll be blamed for this. There’s nothing more I can do but lay a trap and see if they swallow the hook.”
“We can at least put out the fire,” Elania said.
Arlois nodded, her gaze still fixed on the inferno. “Feel free. But remember—you should watch over the ones you care about first. That’s all we can do.” She paused, her voice softening. “It’s all we can ever do.”
Elania shook her head, unsure where Arlois’ mental journey was taking her, but it wasn’t time to be reminiscent.
She took flight.
An hour later, the destruction was tamed to the best of her and the dock workers’ ability. The rest would be days or weeks of effort.
As she flew back to the estate, Arlois’ words haunted her.
Yolani’s embrace gave her solace.
In the morning, they were forced to hurry to an emergency council meeting. The building was packed with spectators. It took an escort by a few Silvers for them to push their way to the viewing benches.
The hearing was, as expected, for the explosion of the Silvers’ ammunition depot.
An officer took the stand, his uniform crisp and his posture rigid. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Some munitions were likely improperly stored, resulting in a chain reaction.”
Elania glanced at Arlois, who remained impassive despite the implied blame. Her face was a mask of calm, betraying nothing of her thoughts.
The other three council members exchanged concerned looks, their eyes darting between the officer and Arlois. They began questioning the officer further, their voices rising with each new query.
Elania sensed a shift in the room as the blame seemed to fall on Arlois’ leadership.
Yolani leaned over to Elania. “Something doesn’t feel right,” she whispered.
Elania nodded. She watched as the council members continued their line of questioning, pressing the officer for more details on the safety violations.
The officer provided specific examples, painting a picture of negligence. “Proper storage procedures were not followed. Explosives were not properly segregated, and regular inspections were not conducted as required.”
“Why was the wharf munitions depot not following the same procedures as all other armories?” Lyra demanded, staring at Arlois.
“I don’t know,” Arlois replied.
Each word was a damning indictment, a nail in the coffin of Arlois’ leadership.
The weak response only further opened the floodgate of accusations against her. Elania shifted in her seat, unease gnawing at her gut. Yolani caught her eye, mirroring her worry.
Arlois sat motionless, her gaze fixed on the proceedings, her face a mask.
How was this turning the tables?
Lyra stood. “I motion for an investigation into Arlois’ handling of the defensive measures. A possible censure may be necessary.”
Elysia hesitated for a moment before reluctantly seconding the motion.
Ember, normally a bedrock of support for Arlois, crumbled under the weight of Elysia’s stare. “An investigation is called for.”
Arlois remained stoic, her eyes fixed on Lyra. Elania sensed the tension between the two leaders, a palpable electricity crackling in the air. She wondered how this investigation would impact Arlois’ position and Contia’s defense. Would it weaken their resolve in the face of the Lightbringer threat?
The next announcement by Lyra was a surprise for all. “The Lightbringer diplomatic mission has business to bring before the council.”
Pandemonium broke loose for several minutes until the slam of Arlois’ gavel silenced the chamber.
Arlois spoke, her tone sharp. “Why are the Lightbringers clogging one of the primary wharf bays?”
Lyra ignored the question and gestured to the chamber’s threshold. “Welcome, Bishop Lefarne. Please share your thoughts with the council.”
The bishop proceeded down the aisle, flanked by two members of his entourage. His white robes swished as he strode to the center of the room. No one spoke, his presence commanding attention and drawing all eyes to him.
“Fair people of Contia, I come here today to bear warning to you,” he began. “For many years, the Kingdom of Tiria and Contia have been peaceful neighbors. It grieves me to tell you now that you have clutched a foul viper to your hearts—one with deadly intent and a dark mission to destroy your precious flying city.”
He paused, then turned to stare straight at Elania.
Her hair stood up on the back of her neck, and Yolani squeezed her wrist.
“Neftasu was a city steeped in crime and corruption,” Lefarne continued, his voice booming through the chamber. “Its streets were filled with vice and depravity, its leaders more concerned with their own power than the well-being of their people. They suppressed the holy folk and bred with demons.”
Lefarne’s speech reached its crescendo, his voice rising with each accusation. “When missionaries were sent to its hellish depths, they were martyred while one rose to destroy something that concerns all of us—the holy blade of righteousness!”
He turned his attention to Elania, pointing an accusing finger at her. His eyes blazed with righteous indignation. “The one who tried to kill us all and destroyed the Celestial Engine sits right there!”
“Tiria demands justice,” Lefarne declared. “We demand you hand over the vile snakes you have taken in and deliver to us their demon, one that blackens the meaning of the holy by her mere existence!”