Time passed quickly and Cal found himself seated in the plush leather seats of a black town car.

His hunt had gone well, something had set the region off more than usual and there had been plenty of times he'd been able to capitalize on an ongoing dispute. Leaving him very satisfied with his harvest.

The recovery from the Waste was smooth. The propellerless and magically powered aircraft that picked him up was especially brash, going deeper than he'd ever been picked up. While not as fast as the rocket he came in on, the heli did beat the ages an old airship would take to move him. For good reason, those things were being put out of service and replaced with the smaller and more nimble aircraft.

They'd almost hit a snag when some hungry beast tried to eat their heli The pilot ended up proving her worth and avoided the swipe while letting loose her payload into the beast. The grin she sported afterward made Cal suspect there to be an alternative motive for picking him up so early.

The base he was subsequently dropped off at was everything he'd come to expect of Federation black sites. The kind of place that's in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and no one acknowledged your existence unless absolutely required. Having a conversation was like pulling teeth. His pet theory was they got their pay docked depending on how many words they spoke a week.

They did do good work though. He tugged at his 'new' face. It felt weird, not wrong per se. But weird. He'd been told the feeling would fade with time. Somehow, he doubted the same could be said about seeing a stranger whenever you look into a mirror. Apart from the striking red hair and eyes it was difficult to pin down exactly what they had changed. A thousand little details that added up to something unmistakably not him. It also hurt like hell, given he'd rejected anything besides local anesthesia. Fool him once…

He conceded that the result left him better looking than before. An admission he'd regretted when, in a bout of uncharacteristic chattiness, one of the techs informed him the face was built on a profile meant to be a hair above 'average'.

Asshole.

He was offered, but discouraged, from getting a couple of inches in height as well. Apart from messing with the profile, it would also throw off all his movements and since he didn't like the idea of falling on his face constantly, he went with their recommendation.

Crossing the border was a simple affair, or it was from his point of view. He'd been locked in a box the entire time. Based on the swaying he felt, at some point, they must have crossed the great river.

The box had no ventilation to speak of so someone got very lucky that he wasn't prone to getting seasick. He'd suffocated a little on the way but he chalked that up to an assumption he'd be fine than a general attempt on his life.

Eventually, some unknown agent unlocked the thing and he found himself aboard a train. From there he met the man who now drove him to his temporary residence. And temporary fake family.

Were his hands sweating? Yeah, they definitely were. He wiped them on his slacks and was happy his sports jacket hid the fact he was sweating through his shirt as well.

Cultists, demons, magic beasts, annoyingly charismatic assassins. He'd take dealing with them over this any day of the week.

It was like getting a cold call for a job you applied to months ago, only dialed up to eleven. And now his foot was tapping as well.

He took a breath and stilled himself.

Okay.

They were expecting some cold-hearted Federation spook. So that's what he'll give them. All he had to do was mind his words and speak slowly to avoid tripping up. If they ask anything he doesn't know. Just glare menacingly. If, dead gods forbid, they correct him on something. Glare harder. It'll be fine. An impeccable plan, he tried to convince himself.

The car slid to a stop. The driver exited the vehicle, walked around, and opened the door for him. He stepped out.

A European-style mansion in all its splendor sat before him. That was not on the brochure.

He dismissed it quickly and walked towards the large entrance. Worried he'd look like some hick if he gaped at it. A pair of maids appeared and opened the doors for him. He kept his gaze straight and walked past them. Determined not to be caught staring. As he entered the foyer, he was met by a grand fucking staircase and the largest chandelier he'd ever witnessed. Maids came to and fro, dusting and doing some other tasks.

He slipped his right hand into his pocket, palming the star that lay there. That and the books, now transferred to the briefcase held in his left hand, were the only objects he'd taken with him. The star had almost been left as it would do no use so far away from Federation territory. That and he can't imagine anything good happening if he'd be caught here with it. For now, he was relieved by its presence and the soothing effect it had on him.

"Sir." A man in a butler uniform approached and gave a shallow bow with a hand held to his chest. "If you would follow me, Lord Ardere will see you in his office"

Cal gave a small nod in response and the man turned and led him up the staircase. They passed several more members of staff and he could feel the stares tracking him. They paused in front of a great set of polished wooden doors. They must have been well maintained because they looked brand new.

The butler knocked on the pair of doors and waited for a reply before opening them, gesturing Callum to walk through. With measured steps, he entered the office. The ground below him shifted to a plush red carpet. The room itself was circular, with bookshelves flanking both sides. At the center was a coffee table with two sofas adjacent. Past that and opposite the entrance was an ornate wooden desk occupied by a man scribbling on paper, his features difficult to make out with the glare from the windows behind him.

"Thank you Harrison, that will be all" He didn't turn but he heard the butler behind him leave and shut the door, leaving him with the Lord.

"Please take a seat" The Lord, his new 'father' waved a hand to the sofas. "I have some work to finish, we shall discuss after" Callum obliged and sat, setting his briefcase on the floor beside his feet. He had a brief panic over what to do with his hands and went with his default of crossed across his chest. He closed his eyes, not wanting them to dart around too much.

Was this wait for me to finish stuff real or just some mind game he was trying to pull? He'd been squirreled away too long. Forget understanding politics, he needed to relearn basic social interactions.

Why couldn't this just be a simple blast em op?

His thoughts were becoming too distracting, he needed to stop them. He had just the solution.

Entering his self-trance, the world faded away. While he usually reserved it for rest, he imagined he'd be getting a lot more use for it in the near future.

A brief spurt of power made him open his eyes.

"Apologies" the Lord now sat across him, holding a cup. "The work took longer than intended"

Now away from the windows, he could see the Lord more clearly. The man had a head over Cal, even while seated. A tall man. Not spindly either, no beneath his dress shirt there were signs of taut muscle. His face was stony with lines that spoke of age, framed by unruly red hair matched by the red eyes that seemed to try and pierce through him.

The cup, he noted, had the residue of magic coming off it. That was the power he felt, the man must have heated it himself. How long had he been out of it? The light in the room had shifted but he couldn't accurately measure what it meant. He also hadn't noticed the tea set before, had it been there the whole time or did someone retrieve it?

He didn't know the answer and he'd already been staring too long. It'd be awkward to respond now, well it would be more awkward to just stare at each other. In the end, inaction won and he held the stare.

The Lord broke first and after taking a sip of his tea. "I would like to lay some ground rules"

Ground rules, that sounded nice. Smart even, he should have thought of that. Cal nodded.

"First, you are not to involve my family in your business"

Well duh, what use would a bunch of civilians be?

"Second, while you hold it. You are not to tarnish the name of Ardere."

That was more difficult. He was bound to piss someone off, he wouldn't go nuts like the Board expected but something was going to happen. It was inevitable. He'd have to settle for giving it his best effort.

"Third,-"

Cal felt a flare of power and turned towards it. Just in time to witness the doors explode open. Literally explode. If he ran a hand through his hair he'd probably find ash and splinters.

"Father!" A girl, or young woman stepped over the charred remains. Embers still coated her fist. "I refuse to accept this! Did you not dishonor mother enough? Do you now have to acknowledge a bastard!?!?"

From the sparse dossier he'd been given, she was a couple of years his senior and more importantly, his new half-sister.

The Lord sprung to his feet, nearly knocking over the coffee table between them. "Alice!" His voice was deep and his fists trembled by his side. "This is none of your concern. Leave now. To your room. At once. GO!"

"Concern? This taint sullies my name and future lordship." She sneered and pointed at Cal "Or do you mean this to replace me as heir"

For whatever reason, he was not offended by that.

"No, you will always remain my heir." The Lord took some steps forward and Cal lost his view of her. "Now return to your room, I won't ask again!"

"If I am heir then I have a right to contest this" She walked around her father, slapping his hand away. "You!" She pointed at him again. "Leave at once and never return!"

Leave? That sounded super swell. Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards. It'd be pretty pathetic if he'd turned around at the first obstacle he faced. Mask would never let him hear the end of it.

He examined the duo. Their bond of father and daughter showed true in their features. With the girl sharing the same piercing red eyes and wild red hair that seemed aflame, no wait. It actually might be on fire. Her face slightly differed from her fathers', it seemed gentler and that was with the look that promised him death.

"No." Cal responded simply, still not sure how to handle this bit of family drama.

That looked to not be what she wanted as the ambient temperature rose slightly.

"I challenge you then! Meet me on the field or relinquish all claim to the name Ardere!"

Cal looked at the Lord, trying to ask him what the hell was going on through his eyes. With his limited exposure to people this life, he wasn't great at reading them. A skill he'd have to shake the rust off of sooner rather than later. He did think he saw some anticipation there.

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If he thought about it, aside from the halfhearted grab at the beginning, the Lord didn't seem to be trying very hard to stop this. Sure he spoke some words but his actions showed another story.

Did he want him to accept?

Ah, it clicked. He was trying to gauge his abilities and using his daughter no less. Rather callous, though he should say as expected of a noble.

Cal looked back at the daughter, wondering how much of this anger was genuine. No matter, he'd be a fool to reveal anything close to his full hand but a small demonstration wouldn't be amiss. As a representative from the Federation, he wouldn't want his host to think they'd been cheated.

He stood, making sure to grab his briefcase. "Lead on then"

The flames surrounding her abated a bit and her lips shifted into a victorious smile "It's the same way you came. Now bego-"

"I meant the field" Her mouth was left hung open as her eyes widened. Oops. That was probably a faux pas he just committed. He should have let her finish instead of cutting her off. Bad habits and all.

He'd work on it.

—

Blood is power. The words of the first Emperor. The words that built the Empire.

Alexander watched his daughter take the field, he had the blood and none of the power.

He'd never cursed himself more for it.

His daughter, his precious Alice, was not like him. She had the potential, she had the strength, and with time she'd restore the glory of their house.

Time the jackals would not allow her. They circled, watching, nipping at his heels, testing until they found the right moment to devour his house whole.

He was not a willing meal. He'd called on every old alliance, every favor owed, every last string that may save them.

It proved naught, the circle only ever tightened.

He'd only had one thing left to give, one he'd held onto for so long.

Ancestor's blessings, the one to ask for it was the Emperor himself. Had it only been his, he would have handed it over with gratitude burned into his soul. But the world was cruel, and he was weak. So when it demanded what was not his to give, he broke under its will.

"Alex." His heart shuddered at the melodic voice of his love. The one whom he'd betrayed, even if she denied it."What is happening." He turned to face her, despite his shame. Weak he may be, but a coward unable to face his wife? No.

"Alice has declared the right of heir to challenge name giving." His words carried the sorrow of a lifetime "Once more, have I failed her"

She tugged at his sleeve and he held back a wince. "You stupid man" her voice gave a soft rebuke, as she inspected the burns he retained "You needn't have gone to such lengths, the Emperor would not send one who would do us harm"

Once he might have believed that. Now, he'd merely hoped. Hoped that the snake he'd been asked to house under his roof would not bare its fangs towards his. The hope withered as he stared at a mockery of his own eyes, dead in nature. He'd been unable to face him at first and had given such an uncouth excuse to desperately buy time to recover his wits.

Time.

That is what this was all for. The Emperor had granted it, for the price of their honor.

He would name a bastard and tarnish his love. In return, their child would safely ascend to the position of Countess Ardere. The jackals left hungry.

It wasn't the Fifth, thank the Ancestors. The Academy had old magic, magic that predated the Fall. Treacherous as they were, the snakes would not waste one of their favored tools on such a folly.

Which made him question, what monster now stood against his daughter? The monster that sat for hours without nearly a breath. That barely regarded his presence when he made his demands. Who'd spared merely a single blink in the face of his daughter's wrath.

"Dear" His love placed a dainty yet firm hand on his back. "You are no dullard. Tell me what use would the snakes have at striking us? None, they've come for a reason and though that reason may be obscured, we know it not to be us"

Reason? He'd witnessed it in his youth, they struck for the sport of it.

The familiar touch of his love's magic coursed through him, he embraced and guided it towards his ails. He allowed himself to be lost for a moment in its gentle song.

He truly did not deserve a wife so understanding. As the last of his skin returned to its natural state, a sharp pain at his side caused him to jerk in that direction. Finding the visage of his wife. Brown hair in slight disarray, pulled into a loose ponytail she had the same mischievous look he'd fell in love with.

"Bury those morbid thoughts that you love to entertain" She pinched his side again and he let out a theatrical wince. "This is a good opportunity to see what our guest has to offer."

He looked back to the field, located behind the manor. This training ground had served generations of Ardere scions. His daughter held aloft the great sword Pyre and seemed to be exchanging words with the snake. The snake casually held his briefcase in one hand while the other lazily lay in its pocket. Its head tilted in his direction before his daughter regained its attention.

"She's asking where his weapon is" His love supplied using the gifts she'd been granted. "Did he come with one?"

He shook his head while still watching. "He carried only what you see now"

"Hmmm, it may be in the briefcase or maybe even the case itself." She contemplated, taking his hand and stroking it. "The snakes can be rather creative in their implements."

It was not the word he'd have used to describe them.

He'd barely noticed the heat rise before a sigil formed and out shot three writhing jets of fire. A powerful but measured opening. Designed to unbalance your opponent and seize the fight's tempo. In the rare occurrence, he'd seen bouts end there.

The snake barely moved, taking a scarce few steps and somehow slithered his way through the flames. His daughter was not idle and her figure blurred as she reappeared with Pyre held high. He could scarcely follow her swings, his augmentation never advancing far enough to allow such sight. The snake was easier to observe, its movements generally small. Sometimes looking to have not moved at all.

His daughter backed up and held Pyre to the sky. Power gathered briefly and then was expelled in the form of a legion of flaming spheres. They circled the field, dancing in the sky. One rushed forward, then another. Soon the center of the field was awash with them. They dived, they turned, they followed, they detonated, but most importantly. They missed. As the last failed in its pursuit, the snake stood. Perhaps even in the same spot.

She leveled Pyre at the snake and let out a roar, a wave of fire and flame answering. Threatening to swallow the field and the snake with it. A grand display, one that showed her claim as one of the Academy's strongest was not without merit.

"And here I thought I taught that girl better" His wife bitterly commented. "When will she learn to rein in that temper"

He wisely chose to not point out from whom she'd gotten it, even as he agreed with her assessment. He was not a martial man, but he'd seen enough fights to gain some insight. His daughter's attack, while certainly eye-catching, was wasteful. Any peer-like opponent would simply vault over or boost their shell to weather it directly, the power being spread too thin for it to end in an equal exchange. By now, while not being aware her adversary was a snake, his daughter should have the sense to know she did not face someone incapable.

Simultaneously proving and mocking his observations, the snake removed his pocketed hand and with a lackadaisical wave, tore an opening through the flame.

To her credit, his daughter did not hesitate to once more cross the gap and resume her strikes.

"That was no manifestation" His love's gaze did not miss much "He wrestled control of the oncoming magic"

He could feel the frown overtake her.

"Our daughter's magic is diminishing" Her thumb stroked him, their hands still joined. "I expected as much, given the liberties she's taken. Our guest is the strange one." He did not like the light shining in his love's eye "Even with facing her onslaught, he's not done a single manifestation, I can not even be sure he is using his shell. It's quite fascinating, almost like watching one of the Fingers. A shame her mind is too heated to take proper notice, it would be quite the valuable learning experience"

The fight raged on.

"Are you certain he is of the age to be given the moniker of student?"

"Nothing is certain" He gruffed "but what do the snakes have to gain by sending one of their own to be slayed by the Academy's wards?"

"That just makes it more curious. What could our beloved Emperor have offered for them to risk such a person? Such control and movements are not easily taught, they must have started quite early." He knew that tone and the trouble it heralded

"Claire, my love." His voice came out tired "Need I remind you we deal with a snake? They are dangerous beings to be avoided or disposed of. Not to be played with."

"Is that so? The snake you fear has been playing with our daughter for some time now and has yet to lay a single blow on her."

And it only added to his worry.

"It is never a matter of if with them, only when!" He was not sure why he still bothered protesting, her mind had been made.

"I'm not so sure. He's being rather gentle with her." A tut sounded "Too gentle, bruises would heal faster than her pride will."

The farce of a battle lulled, as his daughter stood at one end Pyre held barely above the ground. The flames on the blade had grown dim and even at this distance he could see her ragged breaths as she struggled to stay upright. With one last cry, the remaining embers of her power surged and a final swing cleaved the field in two.

Like all the rest, it failed to find the snake.

Pyre clattered to the earth and his daughter's knees soon followed. A wail cut across what remained of the grounds and pierced his heart.

The pain of being weak had never stung more.

His love's hand left his and found purchase on his back, pushing him forward. "Go, comfort our daughter. Give her the reassurance needed. Perhaps, even open a tin of those Anis delights you both are so fond of?"

He took a step before halting, looking at the snake. It looked as if it could have just returned from a stroll in the garden, rather than any sort of battle.

He felt the hand push him forward again and his love's breath tickled his ear.

"Let me deal with the boy. After all, even snakes can be charmed."