The meeting was promptly arranged, as everyone was long used to impromptu meetings courtesy of Soral. Soral himself was the last to appear with a pop of magic as he was always out somewhere doing something. Ruena had long given up trying to keep track of exactly what. Now that every core member of the Alodan Warriors was present, Ruena stepped to the front to present the issue and the opportunity.
“It’s been a while since we have had a real emergency situation,” Ruena said with a smile, “At least beyond the wild goose chases and petty investigations we have wasted our time with so far. The Alodan Warriors have finally been given the chance to rise again, but it will be dangerous and it comes from an enemy’s hand.”
“An enemy?” Ember asked, narrowing her red eyes with scorn, “Then why are we even considering it?”
Ember was in charge of communication of the very first team of the Alodan Warriors. It was the very team that Rosalie led, while her twin brother Flame was in charge of overall communication at headquarters. As twins they had a special telepathic link that had not been broken by the strongest of magical interference. Both of them had been indispensable the last nine years.
“Because it was sent by a being we cannot ignore,” Ruena answered, presenting the letter.
She had always thought it interesting that the twin without the flaming wings inherited a far more fiery personality. Flame winced when he recognized the sigil on the envelope. His gently flickering wings of fire did suit his more calm and focused personality. However, his reaction was far overshadowed by Soral who immediately snatched the letter from his hands.
“Ol’ Denny Boy is getting bold,” he muttered, “Should I go make him back down? I am sure I could find something to convince him.
Ruena held her hand up to stop her partner from doing anything rash. He was a head shorter than her, and she was stronger physically. Only physically. She wouldn’t stand a chance if he used any magic against her.
“This is one of those rare occasions that he and I want the same thing. Instead of fighting him, we should take advantage of him while we still can,” Ruena told him, “We both know his interest and assistance are fickle so there is no time to waste.”
Storm, their resident silver haired retired assassin, lightly raised his hand as he lounged in his seat. “Is this something I will need to be involved with?” he asked.
Over the last nine years, Storm had rarely participated in any missions. Ruena could hardly blame him. A seasoned assassin was not made for wasting time on ceremonial guard duty or finding the odd lost item. This time, however, he might be a bit more interested.
“That is for you to decide,” Ruena told him, “You will need to start pulling your weight around here.” She held her hand out for the letter, and Soral begrudgingly returned it to her. His grudge against Densooth was deeper than hers ever could be. That may be because it was far overshadowed by her hatred for the woman who had stolen everything from her.
“Is it going to be more dangerous than the mercenary test?” Liza asked. Even after nine years she had not forgotten that chaos. They had taken the test right after she and her brother Dillon had joined so that was their first introduction to what being a mercenary was like. They were the combat specialists of Rosalie’s team.
Dillon shook his head. “If it is something the Black Wolf wants, the mercenary test should be nothing in comparison.”
“I won’t deny that,” Ruena confirmed, “Densooth wants me to take back my rightful place as heir of Alodan. In order to do that, we need to achieve a feat great enough for the name of the Alodan warriors to rise to fame. He included a list of suggested feats, and there is one I am sure we will all be interested in. Especially you, Janon.”
Janon looked up from the gadget he had been fiddling with. In a magical land like Althaedor, it was the strange and foolish hope of the magicless to meddle with technology. However, Janon was a master of his art and Ruena found such lines of thought to be vain and short sighted. It was technology that had made the endless battles of the Warlord Territories possible, not magic. Ruena handed him the page describing Gero’s return to the despicable business.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“So father is back at it,” Janon muttered with a scowl, “Do you think he found another victim to make the collars for him?”
“I fear he might have found something new and more dangerous,” Ruena replied, “The collars have already proven to be weak to Soral.”
“That doesn’t mean the new method won’t be,” Soral pointed out, “I could act as bait. I know he has been itching to catch me after what I did to him last time.”
“Why bother making things complicated?” Storm asked, “I could always just take him out. If he really is a wanted man, no one should mind if something fatal ends up happening to him.”
“I appreciate your eagerness, but we need to investigate before we make any moves. This needs to be a perfect strike. In order to destroy the rebirth of the slave trade, we will need to capture Gero and rescue any captives. No mistakes will be allowed,” Ruena warned, and turned to the rather large and chubby looking fluffy white cat pretending to nap on the windowsill he didn’t really fit on, “Jazz, can you lead your team and see what you can find out about it? If you bring everyone back unharmed I will ensure Soral gives you a delicious reward.
The cat slowly slid off of the windowsill and sauntered out of the room. To most it may seem as if he had ignored her, but Ruena knew there was nothing that would motivate the magical cat more than a delicious meal. She still had the hardest time telling how much was fluff and how much was flab on him, but he seemed like a healthy fully grown cat otherwise.
“What should we prepare while we wait?” Soral asked, knowing well that Ruena wasn’t one to stand still and do nothing.
“I want you to finish the lunchbox project you were working on,” Ruena ordered. While Janon was in charge of technological invention, Soral was constantly creating conveniences of a magical nature. He had invented the enchantments on their uniforms, as well as the living closet they had to chase down in order to acquire them.
The time not spent on magic was spent on food. Over the past nine years, Soral had become an excellent chef. The lunchbox project was his personal effort to combine the two by creating a convenient container that would carry an endless supply of food. He claimed to have gotten the idea from a lunchbox he had seen while out and about. Where he had seen it was impossible to say since Soral’s teleportation allowed him to be wherever he wished and back in an instant.
“Will do,” Soral replied with a quick salute, “My first prototype is almost done. I will need some testing help later, but I am sure I will have plenty of volunteers.”
He wasn’t wrong. Over the last nine years the warriors had grown a bit, but the majority of their growth had been women. More specifically women with nowhere else to turn. They had all turned out to be excellent members, with undying loyalty, but that came at the price of them acting like meddling aunts in unofficial matters. Soral was especially popular with them, though they treated him like a child more than anything else.
“I will be sure I am one of those volunteers,” Storm spoke up. He also took any opportunity he could to eat Soral’s food. Ruena believed it was the only reason he stuck around.
“What would you like the rest of us to prepare?” Rosalie asked.
“Rosalie, you will train your team for the dangers of a rescue scenario. You will be the ones in charge of saving the captives,” Ruena ordered, “Janon, how is the secret weapon coming?”
“Are you sure you want me to finish it?” Janon asked hesitantly, “In the wrong hands it could destroy Althaedor.”
“Which is why we will ensure it stays in the right hands,” Ruena assured, “Besides, I am not so vain to believe that we are the only ones capable of creating such a thing.”
Janon did not seem very reassured. “Promise me you will only use it if it will save lives,” he told her.
“I will,” Ruena promised, “Would you like me to make a magic oath? Soral has become quite adept at oath magic recently.”
It was probably best not to think about why Soral had taken a sudden interest in oath magic. As trustworthy as he was, Ruena knew that Soral’s view of legal lines was rather blurred. Hopefully he would leave whatever law breaking he had in mind to Mr. Mischief.
“No, you don’t have to go that far,” Janon relented, “I’ll finish it.”
“In that case, I will help with Rosalie’s training,” Storm volunteered.
Now everyone had a task. Everyone but her. Sometimes the role of a leader forced her to stand still and wait for reports. While she waited, Ruena decided to check in on the second and third teams to evaluate their ability and willingness to participate in this mission.