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Vol.2, 22 | Pars XXII – Façia Nova, Misșion Differenz, Voyaģeos Mețimos

Vol.2, 22 | Pars XXII – Façia Nova, Misșion Differenz, Voyaģeos Mețimos

The sun began its rise as a new day once again dawned upon the Central Continent, as it had done the day before, the day before the day before, and all other days to have ever been before and even before those days as well. The many denizens of the large and distinct city of Strawberry once again awoke to do their many-many doings… Or to levy their many-many complaints—and there were many with many the complaints to be levied.

The ninth month of this once-new year marched onwards, now only slim over a week away until its festive conclusion, the signs of which were emerging in the form of ritual decorations and preliminary preparations.

Yet this particular day also marked a change in the winds, at least for a certain few.

Antica stood silently in place, once again having been summoned to this specific office—one that had become a more familiar space over the course of this week.

“Well, volunteer de Relevancia,” that equally specific officer, or ‘colonel’ rather, to whom this office belonged began to speak, “it appears that today is the day. Your ‘pending orders’ are no longer pending, but hereby issued—I hope I need not explain what I expect you to already remember.”

“Yes. I remember, sir.” Antica, standing at attent, simply affirmed.

“Good.” Colonel Faulkner was stern. “Now, from the correspondence I received, your Raven partner should have already been briefed by her own and should be on her way, doubtlessly collecting your two adventurer companions. We have already preprepared their wagon; we even took the courtesy of providing additional supplies, free of charge.”

“It is understood, and…I give thanks…” Antica acknowledged; “This means, then, that these ‘talks’ with Bureau…”

“They have agreed to your reassignment, largely.” Colonel Faulkner leaned back a bit; “As I had declared, I was in no interest in further antagonizing that spider; thus, we had opted to be…transparent with the Bureau, up to as necessary; they know what, to which, and why. Though, they certainly raised quite the maelstrom these past seven days, even dragging my superiors into this—technicalities of authorizations and such… They were likely simply attempting to ‘get back’ at me for my uniliteral…‘stunt’…”

“That does not seem to be…agreement.” Antica frankly remarked.

“Myes, well, such is the course of these games… Although, I suppose I should say, a wild card did suddenly intrude, forcing their hands for a quicker accord.” Colonel Faulkner disclosed, vaguely.

“…wild card?” Antica tilted her head… As in…wild magic? Or… Hmm…

“I shall say, the Bureau’s persons here had received quite the…surprise from their Guild which had been circling about before finally finding its way…” Colonel Faulkner remained vague; “But it appears your Raven partner—her whole ‘team’, in fact—have not any the choice now but to go to Grandberry, and the Bureau would prefer to keep you with your 'supervising other'.”

“Oh, I see…” Antica plainly acknowledged.

Colonel Faulkner ahemed; “Needless to say, this is now another joint-venture. Their own concerns with the Fallen aside, it appears the Bureau does not ultimately care about what your exact assignment or doings are, so as long as they are able to keep their string attached. And…” His voice’s tone began to drift… “Consequently, there have been modifications.”

“Those being?” Antica simply asked.

Colonel Faulkner’s hands interlocked as he gave her a commanding eye; “I am to make this explicitly clear: the Bureau has…reminded us of your official co-status as an ‘undesignated bird’, and therefore all orders and instructions, both present and future, from your supervising other and relevant handlers are to be upheld. The 13th Grand Exiled Regiment will retain superior…strategic oversight regarding your activities going forth, but the Bureau and your supervising other will retain…tactical oversight over your actions, and we will see to it that there are minimal contradictions.”

“I see…” Antica…acknowledged.

“And I must clarify, this applies to standing prohibitions, including your combat prohibition.” Colonel Faulkner clarified.

« … » This, however… “Seriously?” Indeed, there was noticeably more affect in Antica’s voice. “With respect, sir… Despite what it is that you want me to do, being this ‘spearhead’ against this ‘Fallen’… I am still not to fight?”

“Unfortunately, volunteer de Relevancia, we played our cards and the Bureau played theirs, and it appears that they had quite the card hidden up their sleeve; my hands are tied from above. Thus, so as long as such remains the Bureau’s standing orders, I expect you to adhere to them.” Colonel Faulkner was authoritatively blunt.

“It is…understood…” Antica, simmering, simply…acknowledged; indeed, this was a matter of orders, not ‘preferences’.

“Besides,” Colonel Faulkner so continued, his posture relaxing somewhat, “volunteer de Relevancia, if it is one thing these seven days have demonstrated, it is that you are inquisitive and analytical in heart, strategic in mind, and have observant eyes… When I had first been made aware of you, I was under the impression that you would be more…gruntish infantry. However, you have shown yourself to have more an officer’s aptitude.” he remarked; “And I find these talents to be just as valuable to our efforts as your fighting or sorceress prowess, if not more so.”

“Hm…” Antica’s mask-obscured eyes drifted… “I see…” For whatever reason, hearing these words from such an authority…made her feel not…as bothered anymore, at least in this moment. Indeed… She was not even designated for direct combat; it was not her specialty. However, owing to precisely such, she would prefer to have discretion regarding when and when not to engage.

Colonel Faulkner, nevertheless, abruptly straightened; “With everything now said, volunteer de Relevancia, I must stress one final time…the paramountity. Make no mistake, the next Congress of Aprodisa is convening at this year’s end, and as matters stand presently, the United Central Company’s charter is unlikely to be renewed; we must bring home redeeming news.” His voice was serious, yet…there was a shadow of indifference; “And your role in our endeavors against the Fallen may prove pivotal. Therefore: whatever you need, whatever you want, ask and you will have it.”

“…whatever I need?” Antica immediately latched on.

Suddenly, however:

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“[Sire!]” a voice beyond hailed.

Colonel Faulkner stood himself up; “Ah. Perfect timing…” he merely remarked, before… “[Enter! What is it?]”

The door flung open as an administrator stepped in, holding the door open; “[A crow girl and two adventurers—an armored man and a mage—are demanding entry… These are for whom you were awaiting?]”

“[They certainly are. Let them in and see to it that they are returned their property. That is all.]” Colonel Faulkner replied.

The administrator nodded, before hastily departing off, the door shutting close.

Colonel Faulkner promptly turned to Antica; “Well, it appears your Raven is here to fetch you.” he casually said. “Needless to say, you are to depart immediately. Anything further will be expanded once you arrive in Grandberry; I have already sent a detachment led by a Captain Albert, who will meet you there.” he stated; “Any last—”

“You said ‘whatever I need’, no?” Antica immediately stated; “I need ammunition.”

Colonel Faulkner simply stared, perhaps caught by some surprise… “That can certainly be arranged, though what…specific caliber or powder-grade?”

Antica…knew not precisely, though she did know… “Well… It is the same kind that is used for…” She abruptly yet cautiously lifted up her skirt, exposing her right-thigh… “This…”

Colonel Faulkner tried to remain stoic to what was, indeed, perhaps rather the…suggestive and lude thing for a lady to abruptly do in Far West social-cultural norms, focusing instead on what was clearly a holstered firearm.

“I hope that this is…not a problem…” Indeed, at no point throughout her stay had Antica disclosed that she had a concealed firearm on her.

Nevertheless… “Well, there is a problem… That is an old ‘cap-and-ball’ model… Dwarven?” Colonel Faulkner plainly remarked, pondering… “You could use a replacement.”

However, Antica’s mask-obscured eyes withdrew as she unhanded her skirt… “Oh, but…” She did not necessarily want to replace that revolving-pistol. Her former associate, Gunslinger, had entrusted it to her despite…heavy apprehension. It was something of significance to her former associate, and out of respect… Indeed… Her mask-obscured eyes quickly returned; “No. I just need the shots.”

Colonel Faulkner simply nodded ever-slight. “Well, then. If that is what you need, that is what you shall receive.”

Hm. The colonel had acquiesced rather easily, Antica felt, even if the demand was simple. She began to ponder, indeed, other possibilities. There was nothing else she really needed, though… Hmm…

« Mî vișion observandî est… » she mumbled to herself. ‘Observant eyes’, he had remarked, yet…such was only a luxury of her current… Immediately, Antica’s attention flung back to Colonel Faulkner… However, words were slow to follow, a strange…tension emerging within… To even ask for such a thing felt so…

Indeed, it was difficult.

Yet ultimately… “My mask…” Antica pointed to her mask. “Do you have...anything like this?”

“Ah…” Colonel Faulkner immediately realized; “Of course, Ravens and their so-called ‘forms’, that mask is exclusive to this ‘form’ of yours, then? Not your more peculiar cloaked ‘form’…”

“Yes. Thus, I have had to keep my eyes closed…to hide them” Antica…admitted.

“Hm. Well, we certainly cannot have that; your observant eyes are a relevant skill.” Colonel Faulkner thus peered; “What you are wearing is a sorcerer’s masquerade; the lenses are designed to obscure those flashy eyes. We should have a few several in the warehouse wherein we typically keep such items.”

“May you…take me?” Antica…requested; “I would…prefer to select myself…” Apprehension persisted in voice.

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“Gladly.” Colonel Faulkner acquiesced, before beginning to walk.

Again, so easy… Antica remained put. When contextualized with respect to this whole week, she had already been wondering indeed. However, now she wanted to know…

“Hold…” Antica promptly said.

Colonel Faulkner paused and simply looked; “Hm?”

Antica hesitated, though…ultimately looked at him; “You have been very accommodating to me, even though my stay here was not truly…welcomed…” Indeed, throughout this week, she had noticed those sneering glares as if her very presence was an insult; from the remarks she had heard, she knew why.

“Myes… Unfortunately, most cannot forego pride and look past your womanliness, and presumptive rumors had caused me quite the reputational commotion…” Colonel Faulkner plainly remarked.

Yet such only reinforced Antica’s emerging point. “Your company, I was told, is not the ‘monolith’; I remember that you said similarly…” she remarked; “It is not the Company itself that has interest in my ‘skills’, is it? But only elements within it, no?” Her stare only sharpened; “And it is evident to me that you have separate interests. So, I must know… What are your interests with me?”

Colonel Faulkner…deliberated, taking a moment… “The United Central Company…” he began to remark, “has many stakeholders invested in its future…” He looked into her; “Similarly, there are stakeholders interested in you, Nilia de Relevancia, and your potential returns from investment. That is all I shall say on this matter.”

-||-

Antica stepped out into the world beyond, those elaborate Far Western doors closing behind, as she walked down the set of marble stairs and into the plaza ahead. Strapped over her shoulder was quite the filled bag, yet her mask-obscured eyes remained fixated down upon that which was now in her hands…

A masquerade-esque half-mask…like the one she presently wore, yet instead of a butterfly, it was…a canine type of animal, what Colonel Faulkner had called a ‘fox’. This mask had a short ‘snout’ of sorts, likewise, one that was more downwards than pointed straight. Unlike her current mask, this one was uniformly shaded in a…dark-purple color of sorts; it was the closest she could find that matched her cloak’s shade, yet…it was not proper violet.

Truth be told, the more she stared, the more she could not see…her face within this mask; it did not beckon her being; it was simply not her… Yet it was the one she had chosen, even if only for pragmatic utility and after…lengthy hesitant deliberation.

Nevertheless, she still felt…extremely strange.

She focused on her ears, hearing the wind blowing the seven flags, in addition to the emerging tapping impatience of a certain waiting soul whose legs were certainly incapable of remaining still.

“Finally!” the familiar cloaked figure shouted as Antica approached, marching off straight to her.

“Nine…” Antica greeted once in range.

However, Novea’s reply came in the form of shoving a formal notifying document into Antica’s chest; “Did you know about this?! Was this what they were concocting?!” She aggressively dangled the crumbled notice before Antica’s sight.

“…this is…” Antica was trying to read, yet struggled since Novea was moving too much.

“We’ve been subpoenaed by the Security Office! And by we, I mean: Red, Blue, and ‘the relevant Raven who identified herself as ‘Nine’ to the Grassberry branch’…” Novea remarked loudly, her voice shifting masculine as she mocked the written description.

So, that was the so-called ‘surprise’, then? “I knew nothing of this.” Antica stated.

“You better not be lying, Company stooge!” Novea loudly said.

“You seem to be energetic today…” Antica frankly remarked.

Indeed, these past seven days of their being here had certainly affected Novea, and…for the better. Novea was rejuvenated, ‘reborn’ as she had put it, having eaten proper meals and attended to general needs which she had neglected during their prior journey. Consequently, she had become a lot more…energized—for better or worse.

“Angry and annoyed, more accurately!” Novea corrected; “Raven Mother… So, not only are we going to Grandberry, but…” She groaned in almost ugh; “Those sleezy little…”

“It is only a coincidence.” Antica frankly stated.

“Yeah, one that conveniently fits with your ‘new orders’…” Novea sighed; “I know, it likely is… Apparently this thing was actually circulating around for a while, the Security Office was wanting…” Her attention abruptly shifted… “What’s that?” She finally noticed that which was in Antica’s hands.

“This is a ‘sorcerer’s mask’… To hide the eyes in my other ‘form’…” Antica replied.

“Oh…” Novea processed; “Neat! That means you don’t have to keep your eyes closed anymore! You’ll be able to see!” She seemed genuinely thrilled on Antica’s behalf; “It looks…kind of…cute… And it’s purple, like your…cloak and…stuff…”

“My ‘stuff’ is not ‘purple’…” Antica corrected…

Novea tilted her head… “It isn’t?”

“ ‘Violet’, your tongue has the word for that color…” Antica stated…

“…there’s a difference?” Novea’s tilting head continued tilting.

“Yes… A noticeable one…” Antica stated.

Novea just stared… “Whatever. It’s still…not a bad-looking mask… It is…kind of…cool-looking…” she…completed.

“You think so?” Antica simply pondered… The aesthetics, frankly, were not what her eyes attended to, but it was interesting perhaps to hear…Novea’s perspective.

“Yeah…” Yet Novea’s eyes peered closer… “Hmm… That a fancy fox?” She then peered at Antica’s half obscured face… “Though… I don’t see…you as a fox, honestly…”

“I thought similarly...” Antica remarked, sighing just a bit… She then proceeded to take off that which had been strapped over her shoulders. “Anyway, here.” She handed Novea an obviously Far Western bag.

“Huh… What is this?” Novea, somewhat surprised, again asked as she took the bag into hand…

“Shots. For the gun…” Antica clarified.

“Oh…” Novea stared at the bag, and then at Antica… “It’s…heavy…”

“Yeah… They do not use this type of ammunition too much anymore, so they did not have a lot. But I wanted to make sure that we had enough.” Antica stated; “Or, specifically, I wanted to make certain that you had enough.” Indeed, especially considering the amount of munitions Novea had used already…

“Oh…” Novea processed, blushing behind her corvid mask… “Thanks…” She quickly ahemed.

“Where is Blue and Red? I heard that you brought them?” Antica inquired, observing their absence.

“Yeah, I did… As soon as I was briefed and thrown this letter, I went and grabbed them… They certainly had a thrilling time here—can’t say the same for myself…” Novea’s voice abruptly paused…as she began to blush; “…or, our…little outing was…nice…” She, again, swiftly ahemed; “Anyway, those two are retrieving their unicorn; they’ll meet us outside the city… I haven’t…briefed them yet, but…”—she ahemed— “anyway, me and you need to return to the safecellar and retrieve our—”

“I could already infer.” Antica frankly interjected.

“Yeah, I bet…” Novea sighed; “Anyway, I was briefed on…everything, so we should have…an equal know…” Her attention drifted… “The Fallen, huh? Honestly not too surprised… They’ve been up to something for…”

“We should not be discussing this openly, no?” Antica interposed; “We should simply be walking.”

Novea, again, sighed; “Yeah… You’re absolutely correct…” Thus, she began to walk; “Come on, then… Adventure awaits…”

“Following you…” Antica promptly began to follow.

However, Novea’s attention again drifted, as if musing in mind…

“What is it?” Antica, noticing, merely asked.

“N… Nothing” Novea shook her head; “Nothing…”

“You speak as if this nothing is something…” Antica frankly remarked.

Novea once again drifted, deliberating… “I’ve just been…reflecting, I guess… I have a…weird hunch regarding why…things have been playing this way; that is all…”

“What do you mean?” Antica tilted her head.

“You still have your advanced selectee badge, rightly?” Novea, however, asked.

“Uhm…” Antica had completely forgotten of its existence, frankly, considering its utter irrelevancy hitherto… “Yes, I do? It is…with my things, I think…” she replied; “Why?”

“Hm.” Yet Novea did not answer; she simply continued walking.

-||-

Cyanic ignited eyes stared around and about…

Antica was alone, having asked Novea to wait outside that closed wall-door. Indeed, owing to their impending departure, Novea could not be bothered to adhere to the proper procedures regarding their different ‘forms’, and instead had taken Antica along through that covert under-route.

Nevertheless, everything that needed to be done was done.

Antica quickly evaluated her figure… Modular small-arm, rapier-conduit, all of her prior pouches and such; everything was equipt where they should be. Her lower-back and waist behind could feel the presence of her portable storage unit, likewise. And, most especially, her left-forearm was once again occupied; she was glad to have her terminal device again, truly.

Certainly, in most respects, it was as if she had never taken any of this equipment off. Her prior denizen clothing and such associated things were left, neatly, next to Novea’s carry-bag.

Though, speaking of whom… Throughout these seven days, there had been no…incidents. Novea had respected her ‘no touchy’ rule—no thanks to her two butterfly automatons left to enforce. Speaking of which, they were now hibernating away within one of her free pouches. Fly, meanwhile, she would have to…retrieve on the way out.

Antica proceeded to do a quick check of her terminal device, her fingers tapping away, browsing through its interface… Nothing noteworthy… She sighed, her exposed ignited eyes shifted away as she tapped the screen off.

Indeed, she was ready to depart… Or almost…

There was still that one thing she needed to do…

Certainly, she turned her sight… That newly given mask…which she had simply left atop her primitive backpack, within which her prior mask had once again been gently placed.

Sighing yet again, Antica approached and took that ‘fox’ mask into hand. She stared it down, contemplating further and more, before…finally…putting it on.

Once again, her ignited eyes were obscured by a mask; one that felt alien, truly. Yet, nevertheless, she could see. The lenses were similar to her butterfly mask, thus no real adjustments needed to be made by her eyes.

Yet, her face on the other hand…

Indeed, her face was rejecting this mask, it almost felt. And the longer it remained on her face, the more…

Antica immediately took it off. There was something that…just did not… Hmm… She raised her Remnant face-covering up, obscuring the lower half of her face, and then redonned that fox masquerade… For whatever reason, this improved the feeling… Though, only somewhat.

Abruptly, that covert wall-door so rumblingly opened.

“S-sorry, I don’t mean to intrude or anything! It’s just you were taking a while…and…” Novea, intruding, rapidly said, her sight nervously cast towards the ground.

Yet Antica simply turned her sight as she raised her smart-cloak’s hood; “Well, I am done.”

Novea finally looked… “Wow…” she stared, “completely different person…” Almost alien, indeed; “And… I think I see what you meant…by purple and violet being…different, but…” She peered, judging… “I think that mask actually…suits better than I thought…”

“You think?” Antica did not feel the same, frankly.

“I mean, I still don’t see a fox in you, but… Yeah, I think…it looks nice…” Novea promptly ahemed; “Anyway, so…” She began to eye around…

Antica, however, simply pointed; “I left my…clothing near your bag. So, if you are able…”

“Yeah, no… Of course, not a problem” Novea immediately stated; “I’ll…keep it for you. Don’t worry…”

“Well, then. I am ready when you are.” Antica thus simply said, now awaiting.

-||-

The wagon was situated on a small and humble hill somewhat further away from the city, although it and its walls remained visible in the distance. The unicorn, munching away upon grass, seemed indifferent despite having spent quite the week imprisoned within a Company equine holding depot; such pathetic containment could not possibly hold it, and thus the chimera had no cause for care.

Red stood in front, waiting and becoming ever more unamused as the sun traversed higher in the sky… His gear, armor, tunic, and all such things seemed cleaner than before; his polearm, left in the wagon proper, also seemed repaired; the blade refined, the shaft replaced.

Blue, meanwhile, was rummaging through the wagon’s back; she too had been rejuvenated, her own gear and mage-attire fresh and finally stain-free. “Woah… What is this? It looks as if poop…” She had taken out a packaged bar of sorts from a sack, having opened it; “WOW GODS’ TRINITY!” she abruptly shouted, having taken a bite; “It’s so sweet!”

“Gods’ sacred…” Red, unamused, so glanced behind, peering into the wagon… “Imported New World chocolate, cream-sweetened kind…” he immediately identified.

“Well, it was pleasant of them to provide us with all of these…yummies…” Blue, munching away still, remarked; “These are obviously pricy…”

Red remained glaring… “Yeah, exactly… Makes you think, doesn’t it…” He was distrusting of intent; “Anyway, that shit will rot your teeth, so don’t eat too much…”

Yet Blue had already eaten half the bar… “Oh… Really?” She suddenly felt less appetized; “I…pride myself with maintaining top teeth hygiene… So…” She promptly…took another bite; “But it is so…sweet!” Finishing the chocolate bar, she then evaluated their inventory… “Although… Wait…” Suddenly, coin appeared within her eyes; “If not consume ourselves… We can sell these!”

“Yeah. Good luck with that. Won’t end well.” Red merely replied, his eyes returning to the walls afar and ahead… Immediately, his focus sharpened. “FINALLY!” he hurled a shout, seeing those two figures in the distance, coming closer.

-|-

“Took you two long enough!” Red so ‘greeted’.

“You two…certainly…parked far…” Novea was clearly exhausted as she arrived, the weight of her revolving-rifle, large carry-bag, and now newly given munitions bag…seemingly crushing at her back… Although, it was actually her knees from this uphill climb.

“Yeah, yeah” he so spoke… His sight then glared at that other enigmatic figure standing by, noticing immediately that which was clearly different this time… “Anyway, you and Miss Purple Foxagons there get the in the back already…” Yet he paid no mind; “You’ve got a lot of fucking talking to do, lady!”

Truly… Although their purposes—their original mission—had changed, it seemed that their journey was…largely to remain the same.