Azaia was naturally delighted to broaden my horizons for me. -She is playing in Nice. There will be a huge crowd, of course. You know who Sinead is, right?-
I /replied dryly, -I am not that out of the loop to not know who Morninglight is, Azaia.-
-Yes, Master,- she /acknowledged, only a little contritely. -She is probably the most famous bard on the planet!- Her admiration for our older sister came through clearly.
-Minstrel,- I /corrected her calmly. -I have listened to her music. There’s nothing of the Land in them, and her renditions of classical and folk music are entirely lacking in comparison to her more contemporary efforts.-
-Oh.- She was belatedly remembering that I had a LOT of Skill Ranks in a lot of areas. She had also heard me Sing the Sublime Chord at the Solstice, and realized that I was probably a better musician in some ways than her Sister, who was still a Nine... and likely was very reluctant to take the steps to move past that Level, achieving it as easily as she had.
-I am hoping you will release her from the Geas, Master,- she /said hopefully.
-That is not even a question, Azaia, but don’t expect too much from it. I expect that she hasn’t even considered my existence as something worth thinking about, like, ever.-
Azaia was painfully silent at that. -I think Mother told her and Fire that Elrii died as a babe, and since we could never talk about it...- she /admitted.
-It does not disturb me, and I am fully capable of judging her on her own merits. It may not surprise you that most entertainers are not all that impressive to me.-
She considered that quietly. Music was just another form of weapon to me in the greater fight, and while I didn’t disparage the need for entertainment... that didn’t mean I considered a Minstrel drinking in the acclaim of her fans as my equal, or even a peer, really.
We existed at different scales, in the end.
-You’ll still be able to enjoy it, right?- she /asked, wincing.
-Of course. She is very skilled within her area of expertise. I will enjoy seeing her live instead of listening to recordings.- I left aside the fact that I could simply request audio feeds from any Vassals who went to see her, and had more than once. Blessings of multiple thoughtstreams and all...
----------
Of course, getting to Nice was not so simple. Azaia thought I might Teleport there, and I had to inform her that it might have been possible, but Elrii had taken a flight and broken her Lived-Line when coming to America, so we would have to take a trip.
Which was totally fine, in the end. I had to connect up our Lived-Lines anyways, so riding Sleipner over the Atlantic from Long Island to France was totally within my remit.
It was also ten hours of downtime, rocketing across the churning cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, then hitting France. Azaia was a little shame-faced to reveal that she’d undertaken a lot of her travels by flying or conveyances that wouldn’t extend a Lived-Line, and so was actually happy to draw a route and cross her functional Lived-Lines while riding on Sleipner.
We did take a short detour to touch land at Lizard in Britain, just in case I needed to Teleport there in the future, and Azaia certainly would, as our family was of Irish descent. Linking up Lived-Lines was very important for future mobility, she just hadn’t realized how much more useful they were then just the limited range of point-to-point. I could tell she was very excited at the thought of Teleporting without Error all around the world from a V+II Slot...
----------
“You are very grim, Trav,” Azaia said softly, looking down at me where I was stretched out and half-dozing while doing the Infusion on a delicate chain-link item of mithral, rubies, and diamonds, sort of like a tiara or diadem, but not quite.
I was also totally plotting out the ocean underneath us, and Briggs had reached out and made contact with certain people in certain places and given us possible areas to ride over.
Out in the distance, Briggs’ eyes had glowed when we passed over two sunken cities of Deep Ones, and some nasty retribution was in the middle of being devised. My Allegiance had already penetrated well into the military, moving in through the Blakhamars and other dwarven clans, Paladins and other Templar-types, and they couldn’t stop the process. Those who weren’t in Allegiances couldn’t easily tell if someone else had joined one, and the shake-out of conflicting loyalties and duties was already taking place.
Naturally certain generals and the like were already assembling Allegiances, as was the President... who had the advantage of going first and not restricting himself to military.
Intense negotiations about the national military were already underway, and the ground being set for a Constitutional Convention that would include both Canada and the United States... and the first stages of selecting a King who might be able to rule the continent and usher in a better, brighter future was also underway.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
The President and Prime Minister naturally had ambitions for the job... but they didn’t have the strength to take and hold the position, even if they somehow managed to finagle the backing to make the attempt. Still, they were attempting to place themselves as Kingmakers, and reap the benefits thereof.
There were quiet things being done to make this difficult, and the faithful of Tiirith and Nuava were having a particularly good time at the social warfare going on. Amana and Scriba were weighing in with their own influence, Harsites were naturally watching everything, and the Church of Aru had extraordinary influence at the grass-roots level.
There wasn’t anyone else who could motivate so many Churches and organizations to joint effort. Most other existing organizations were cracking as internal rivals created Allegiances within those organizations and vied for power and control that way, more directly than ever. The Magi and Alchemists had already split between continents, and the Churches of Uruth and Trose with them, among other things.
All this was going on in the back of my head, two thoughtstreams devoted full time to the games of state being played. If it wasn’t Karma as fast and direct as fighting, it was still Karma, and I had a lot of Vassals who were Leveling at a remarkable pace as they got into what was essentially a battle to shape the future society of the world.
That meant I was getting ever more adept Vassals, meaning they were more successful, too...
But that wasn’t all I was doing, either. Azaia had watched me spinning threads of Necromancy and Divination, although doing it with ki meant she couldn’t decipher exactly what I was doing.
“I finished up reliving Elrii’s life,” I replied softly, and her eyes widened, Legion glancing over at me, too. “The first six months were... demeaning. Your mother’s attitude when Elrii was tested for no magic, the things she said, the way she washed her hands of Elrii...
“Elrii was an infant and so understood nothing, of course, but I could. The magic gave me her memories in reverse order, and I’ve been replaying them properly during this trip, at about a year an hour.”
“Is that why you look so angry?” Azaia asked, having a good idea of Elrii’s childhood.
“No. It’s because I noticed things that she, as a child, did not understand or simply convinced herself she had not seen.
“We shall be stopping by Tours afterwards.”
Azaia nodded, having the distinct feeling that something was up. I really wanted to kill Cultivators and wipe them from the land, but some things... well, they just had to get done when you became aware of them.
This was one of them.
I sat back while the ocean and an occasional cargo ship flew by. The sea floor thousands of meters below scrolled past, the occasional wrecks of ships and the outposts of undersea races forming aberrations in the natural flow and movement of the mantles and endless currents.
It was an obligation I had to discharge. It appeared that saving that little boy was not the end of things by a long shot...
---------
It was slower going overland than across the ocean, of course, but that just meant we could cross Lived-Lines.
I had given Azaia an Oathring a long time ago, so she was Sustained, which meant we didn’t have to stop for food at all. Actually, we made excellent time by simply moving along railways most of the time, Sleipner having no problem at all balancing on one of the tracks as we moved along. I was fully capable of sensing via Commune a train from miles ahead, and we could easily pull off long enough to avoid it. Veil-shifting past crossroads was an automatic for Sleipner if required.
Someone would probably have been very surprised to hear that you could go 300 kph overland through France after pulling into Bordeaux, but that was about what we averaged... and amusingly enough, crossed some Lived-Lines on the way, too. Still, normal automobiles and trains weren’t enough to do this, so basically it was crossing paths where Azaia or Elrii had walked as pedestrians, and we didn’t need to go too far out of our way to reach them.
If I wanted true completion, that was something I could get on my own time from atop the Old Steed, after all.
Nice was just down the coast from Monaco. In this world, the latter was still a playground for the wealthy and the famous, and also a point of contact with the tritons who held the Mediterranean against outsiders, commanding the Gibraltar Straits against all manner of incursions with the help of the navies of countries very eager to see the area kept safe from the incessant coastal raids plaguing cities and towns on the Atlantic.
Nice played off that reputation as a haven for artists, and so had a thriving tourism and entertainment industry. The arena where Sinead Morninglight would be performing was all sold out, naturally enough, and people were streaming to the area hours before the concert was to begin, giving the parking lot and surrounding buildings and streets quite a festive air.
Azaia had not told her we were coming, and indeed hadn’t told the family anything about her working with me, merely explaining that she was doing a Double Helix Reversion with the help of the Church of Sylune, and would be quite busy for some time.
That said, there was absolutely no way she would not be recognized by the crew when we came walking back up to the performer’s entryway.
“Henri!” Azaia called out to slender foreman as we walked up, and his eyes nearly popped out when he recognized her.
“Mademoiselle Morningwind!” he exclaimed, throwing up his hands and smiling broadly. The older fellow promptly kissed both her cheeks with the air of a delighted uncle, and held her shoulders to look at her. “It has been too long since you have graced us with your presence! Are you staying for the show, or have you come just to see your sister?”
“I am planning to see the show as well, Uncle Henri. May my friends and I pass?” she asked with a smile.
“Of course, of course! This must be a surprise, I am sure!” He winked at her and gave me a perfunctory glance, eyes sliding right over me and disregarding me as being of much importance as he picked up on subtle social clues that assured him I was nobody of note. Legion, of course, had the whole Amazon bodyguard I-am-an-invisible-stiff-don’t-talk-to-me-I’m-working vibe going on and was at Azaia’s flank, looking around and ignoring Uncle Henri in turn.
Having seen many such things in the past, the foreman simply waved us in with a broad smile, then shouted at the crew who were enjoying the show of two halvyri and an Amazon walking past to get back to work.
Backstage was not that far, and if people were running around busily, Azaia seemed to know which way to go, ran across people she knew and who knew her, exchanged casual greetings with the flair of someone who had socialized with the wealthy and famous all her life, and made her way towards the main room for the star.
Master Fred poked my thoughts on our private link, and I turned my attention thataway.
Shit.