Warden of the North.

[Eitan Angevin]

Northern Garrison, Zaichaer
25th of Frost, Year 124 of Steel

The High Sentinel's little experiment was going well, though it had not blossomed into something great yet. They just didn't have the numbers who trusted them.

While his household was largely made up of the Lysanrin he had saved from Gregory Fverard, the only ones tested who had proven to have the capability to learn aether siphoning were either quite old or quite young. The young Bloodborn lad that Angevin had taken to calling Little Devil was among them, however, and as the lad had looked up to him with hero-worship as his savior ever since, it was no difficult thing to enroll him in the small unit that he was developing. They had put out the call: Lysanrin who joined the Order and put their ability to consume aether to use in service to the State would be counted citizens, no matter what they looked like, or the folly of their ancient creator.

That was all ancient history. This was a contemporary solution.

This one would be better than Florian; he had more time to nurture and educate him.

They were surrounded by a sturdy ward against the raw, electrical aether blasts the lad could throw after chewing through minor magics. Just then, he was chewing through a flimsy nothing of a ward Eitan had spun out for just this purpose.

"Very well," he declared. "How do you feel?"

"Tingly," the lad admitted. "Powerful."

He looked to Eitan, eyes shifting through several colors in a manner he had taken to reading as wanting to know whether his answer was correct and pleasing.

The Sentinel nodded.

"Now release it against the greater ward. Away from me this time, please."

If red skin didn't show blushing, the color of his eyes showed shame and embarrassment. Angevin wouldn't rub it in more than he must, but the mistake had been easy blocked and now the lad wouldn't make the same one again. He turned away in his gray uniform, a lighter version of what the full Watchers and Minders wore. It sat upon his red skin like ash upon lava. He held his hand up and Eitan felt a tingle along his skin before the blast discharged to skitter harmlessly across his greater ward.

"Better," he said, a slight smile and a nod offered and the lad's face bloomed like a flower in the sun of his approbation. "You can aim. Now, were you able to save any this time or did it all go out in one shot?"

To answer his question, Devil brought his hand up before his eyes. Electricity danced over his skin like one of Stefan's machines.

The smile and the nod were stronger now.

"Well done. You see? Practice."

"Master..." He pointed over Angevin's shoulder.

The High Sentinel turned to look, then quickly unwove his ward. A soldier waited, clearly with an urgent report.

"Report," Angevin commanded and the young soldier nodded.

"Please come, sir. You will want to see this..."

"From Shemashk or Kalzasi?" he asked, already striding to overtake the soldier and investigate. "Devil. With me."

[Rune]

The group of tents surrounding one of the sides of Fort Nordsieg's solid new walls were haphazard, none exactly like another, and quite obviously not military. The gates were open and soldiers as well as civilians could be seen leaving and entering freely through a spyglass, or other means of magnified vision. A little study would slow that the tents appeared to be a refugee camp, except that all Zaichaeri citizens who had been made refugees by any of the three disasters that had befallen the nation had been moved into permeant homes, either within the new Border Forts, the towns that had grown up to support them, or relocated to the capitol.

If one spent time studying the encampment, they would realize that it was not one large camp, but many small ones, and that those who lived within seemed to all by Lysanrin. It was hard to estimate from the lofty position of the Searing Victory, but it had to be at least several hundred of them. Each camp was made up of one or more ragged tents, often just fabric strung out over makeshift frames, surrounding a central fire for warmth and cooking. The officer that had alerted Eitan to the oddity looked to him as though hoping for an explanation.

After a few minutes officer stepped up, saluted and reported,

"Commander Eylemir has signaled permission to enter the Fort's airspace and requests a conference with you at your convenience, Admiral."

[Eitan Angevin]

"Huh. Perhaps the call is being answered," he murmured quietly, then handed his spyglass to Devil without looking at him. The young Lysanrin was quick to take it up and peer out and down toward their destination.

To the officer, "Respond in the affirmative. Then give XO my command to take us in."

"Sir." With a salute, the man was gone.

The Admiral was the commanding officer of Searing Victory, though his executive officer handled the day-to-day management of the great craft. Most of the time, it hovered over Zaichaer, both a symbol of the State's power to protect and ready to defend. It was also a part of his public show when visiting the farthest reaches of their dominion. There were less impressive vehicles to be sure.

Finally, he glanced at Devil in his Zaichaerjugend uniform.

"You will have to show them how to behave as a proper Zaichaeri boy, won't you, Devil?" he asked with fond condescension.

"Sir," he said, immediately standing straight, spyglass at his side. He saluted with his other hand. "Yes, sir!"

Angevin chuckled. "I do appreciate your enthusiasm, my boy."

The airship slowed from its cruising speed, banking in a long, elegant arc, descending, and then they were mooring to one of the elevated quays that brought them directly into the fort. His executive officer hurried out so as to give him a brief report, per protocol, so the Admiral could responsibly debark and see about his duties on the ground. They saluted, and Devil tailed him, trying to seem both obedient to the Admiral and glorious as he hoped to be, a Lysanrin citizen of Zaichaer.

He left the unloading of supplies, mail, et alia to the airmen, walking the fine plank to greet Commander Eylemir and receive his report.

[Rune]

Commander Eylemir waited in the tower at the end of the fine railed plank to greet the Admiral. The Commander expressed no distinct gender, being of average height and features, with chestnut brown hair that had a slight wave to it. The uniform aided in the impression of lacking distinct features, hiding the possibility of curves or the lack there of. For all that, there was something about Eylemir that caught the attention, something of steadiness and intelligence with a hint of charm hiding around the edges. One could see, after a very few minutes in their company, why they had risen to their current position at only, approximately, thirty years old. There was a new, younger generation of military brass that had risen when the disaster killed, incapacitated, or disappeared the vast majority of their elders. It gave the Zaichaeri military establishment a new vigor that had been lacking in the highest levels of leadership for some time.

Eylemir saluted crisply, not smiling at the Admiral they had never met, but there was something about their mouth and eyes that said they were quite pleased to be meeting him.

"Admiral Angevin." They greeted in the manner that had become normal, which was to say, Military greeted Eitan by his military rank, Order greeted him by his Order rank, and civilians who did not know him personally generally stammered something between the two.

The half dozen officers serving as honor guard also saluted, and remained in salute until the Admiral followed the Commander down into the fort proper.

"I hope your journey was calm and wind-kissed." The airships used aetheric propulsion when needed, but fair winds made for faster journeys. "Please, come into my office."

The room Eitan was led took of one who floor of one of the circular towers, not a huge room, but large enough that much business could be conducted at once if needed. The whole back wall was a gorgeous stained-glass mosaic of Zaichaeri ships flying through the sky, with additional motifs at the corners of each of the three windows that made up the scene.

The room was currently empty, the large desk standing before the beautiful windows was covered in neat stacks of paper, but the Commander did not lead Eitan there, where he would have had to sit on the opposite side, as a subordinate or one begging favors might have. Instead, they led over to a pair of high backed chairs that faced each other from a few feet apart. There was a small table just to one side that held a variety of simply refreshments. Eylemir gestured for Eitan to sit first and then took their place, crossing their legs at the knee.

"I must say," They began in a conversational tone, "It is good to see the Searing Victory above us again. May I offer you anything?"

[Eitan Angevin]

"Commander Eylemir," he greeted, and then with an approving nod at the honor guard. "At ease."

Once they were at their ease, so was he, with an easy smile that made men and women imagine following him into battle and glory, or bedrooms and another sort of glory. He too was one of those officers whose career trajectories had shot them unexpectedly toward the stratosphere when their elder luminaries were too soon snuffed out.

In less than six months, however, he would turn thirty. That didn't frighten him, but it did feel like a milestone. He hadn't expected to rise so far so fast in both the Air Defense Corps or the Order, but he had been tested and not found wanting. Here he was, juggling the highest rank of one branch of Zaichaer's military, the highest rank of the Order, which spanned far beyond their own borders, as well as being the paterfamilias of one of the hallowed blue-blooded families, as well as a bastard who had pulled himself up by his bootstraps, husband of a lovely woman, and father of two boys who would no doubt be the next generation of Zaichaeri genius.

Leopold Lang was old guard, and a necessary evil. By the time he died or was ready to retire, Angevin could move in. Jäger would be dead or near it, and he was certain he could outmaneuver Vonnegut. As Grand Marshall, he would actually have less work than as High Admiral, given he could delegate more, and be burdened more with grand design questions than the day-to-day.

But that was another matter for another day. Eylemir to the North, Reichart to the East, Vonnegut to the South, and allies to the West, still glowing from the attention he had shown them this year.

Zaichaer was strong again, and strong enough to protect its far-flung borders and farther-flung allies. But this garrison was the one who had to watch for Shemashk and Kalzasi. It was good he was here to get to know its commander and its soldiers better, as well as to offer them the future protection of Lysanrin aether siphoners.

He asked the odd cogent question here and there as they walked to Eylemir's office, and nodded appreciatively at the replies.

When he sat, "Tea would not go amiss."

And, as Eylemir saw to that, "I am here, Commander, as much to familiarize myself with the northern garrison as to inspect. I do not intend to micromanage. It is clear you know your business or you would not have risen to the top as many of us did during the troubles of the recent past. I am here because I want you and your soldiers to feel connected to the High City, included in Zaichaer even as you stand near its border."

[Rune]

Eylemir turned to the small table and served two cups of tea, passing one to Eitan before sitting back, balancing their own on their fingertips.

"Your visit is greatly appreciated, though we have felt no neglect from the capitol. Supplies began arriving to support our efforts as soon as the new government was in place. No one goes hungry in New Zaichaer, even when the sun deserts us, we bring our own Searing to the people."

It had the ring of oft-repeated propaganda, but it also sounded like the Commander believed what they were saying. What followed was a general explanation of the abilities, armaments and troops numbers stationed at the budding fort, as well as the range at which said troops could be quickly deployed in case of danger to the surrounding settlements. All the information had been sent in monthly reports to the Army leaders, but Eylemir was not sure how much was shared between the branches concerning logistical matters. Plans for what was intended were also sent, and approved, theoretically by the Grand Marshall himself. The level of organization and oversight were well, in Eylemir's opinion, leaving the border areas neither to fend for themselves nor controlled so tightly that they felt unable to act. They could have told the tale of their rise to power in the dark days, but such tales were held by nearly every officer now, only the details differing from one to the next.

There were four Border Forts, still being constructed but far enough along to serve should any danger threaten. Four to match the River Forts, or so their Commanders promised. There were, of course, multiple borders to the territory claimed by Zaichaer, but only one that was likely to be attacked by its direct neighbors. The strong front made everyone feel safer, at least, so said the citizens who Eylemir spoke to.

"I hear there are wonders being done in the capitol. I would love to come see for myself someday." The tone said, 'but probably not soon', there was too much to do, always. Once the general state of things had been discussed and any questions answered on either side. The conversation turned to the obvious encampments outside the growing walls.

"May I take the liberty of addressing you in your capacity as High Sentinel?" When granted they continued,

"Since the Order's offer of amnesty and employment for Lysanrins went out, they have been arriving at all four of the forts. We were not sure what to do with them, so, for the moment, are offering them the same rations as citizens. The reactions from the rest of the population has been... Hm."

The Commander set aside their now empty cup and steepled long fingers before them.

"Mixed. Some see them as a people in need of a new start, as so many Zaichaeri are themselves. Some can't help but see them as harbingers of the Mists that destroyed so much. There have been a few incidents of violence, but they were anticipated and quelled quickly. They keep mostly to themselves and are oddly passive, almost, you will forgive me, almost as if waiting for the next blow to fall. They do not build, or seek long term employment. I imagine that, should we tell them they must go, they would have melted away, like a fog, by the time the sun rose."

It made sense to Eylemir; a people who had been outcasts in every land for many generations, with no specific place to call their home who were often slaughtered for just trying to settle would learn not to try.

"If there is something specific that the Order would like done with them, we stand ready, and, I believe, so do they."

[Eitan Angevin]

The Admiral took his tea with murmured thanks, and then gave the Commander his undivided attention. He nodded with satisfaction that the soldiers weren't going hungry or feeling a lack of support, and while his pen didn't write the slogans, he did approve the messaging they wanted the citizens to hear.

"Wonders in the capital," he agreed, "and wonders on the border. Don't wait too long to take your well-deserved leave, Commander. If we have learned anything in recent times, it is that we can depend upon one another. Now, at last, while we must still do the work, we don't have to work ourselves to the bone. When you do return, I will be happy to show you whatever you like."

At the request to shift, he nodded, set his cup and saucer aside and shifted forward in his seat.

He paused, then offered context. "As one of the few officers in the ZADC and the Order, I was part of a pilot program to train Lysanrin to use their ability to devour aether in service of the state. It has been decided that if they make the correct oaths and serve, they can earn full citizenship. For the time being, they will be set up in the sections of the city that housed non-humans as our reduced human population has no wish to settle their given previous prejudice.

"Some are rebellious, but the majority are docile, hard workers. I employ several in my home; their loyalty after I brought the man who enslaved them to justice... Well, I believe that if we show them kindness and a path to citizenship, a home, they will, for the most part, become good citizens.

"So if you would be so kind as to ensure they are kept in a humane fashion, the airships carrying your supply shipments can carry them back to the city. In that way, they ought only to be your problem for a short while. Should they return from the city, they will be weapons in your arsenal should there be incursions from Shemashk or Kalzasi, or even dangers that have no politics one way or another."

[Rune]

The literal shift in the Eitan's demeanor was interesting, the hint of a smile played over Eylemir's face, but there was nothing of mocking in it. Wearing many hats required wearing as many faces, this they had learned, they both had learned, it seemed. The answer that came in response to the inquiry at first put obvious surprise onto the Commander's face, brows raising together and head inclining closer over the still steepled hands. The information was clearly new to them, and while unexpected, was quickly absorbed. There was sense in the idea, and Eylemir was nodding before Angevin was finished with his explanation.

Being able to stop magic without having to shield against it with magic would be an excellent thing. Certain dragonshards could also counter magic, but while it wasn't active rune usage, the shards were rare and expensive in the best of times. The world was not currently experiencing the best of times, even in Zaichaer was rising to the challenge as it always would.

"Mmm." The Commanded mused in agreement, "Leading by example, showing that they can be productive, even protective citizens in your own home. How admirable." There was respect in their voice. They had respected the idea of Angevin, all the stories that were told spoke of him as an exceptional example of the best qualities of Zaichaer, but the best men were not always self-sacrificing.

"Having soldiers able to turn magical attacks against the fort into so much nothing would be a great boon. I will treat them as though any of them might someday save my soldiers. While I am sure there are those who might cause problems, it seems unlikely that they would be the ones to crawl, starving and impoverished, to answer Zaichaer's call. Thank you for telling me, while I will not be spreading this information until the Government wishes it, I can comfortably tell those under my command and protection that the Lysanrin have come to support the glory of our nation."

If the Lysanrin proved to be a thorn rather than a rose in the hand, Eylemir did not doubt that they could be dealt with.

"Is there anything else I can do for you? A tour, if you have the time, would certainly raise moral among my soldiers and the townsfolk that support us. There are stories about you, legends, almost, that inspire us all."

[Eitan Angevin]

"Indeed," along with a smile, was his succinct reply.

"Humane treatment of a disenfranchised people ought to yield, by and large, a grateful new population. If those with the aether siphoning ability can be weaponized in defense of their new homeland, then they will be a defense that no aggressors will anticipate.

"So, for the time being, we must be gracious and welcoming."

Once that was acknowledged, tacitly or explicitly, the High Sentinel became a mere admiral once more. The ground pounders didn't report directly to him, though his rank and his working relationships with their superiors in the logistical and land-based branches of the military meant they were quite accommodating. In any case, if he could make things work with Commander Vonnegut, Eylemir was smooth sailing.

"I would appreciate a tour, in fact. Then I will be better informed as to how things stand in our northern borderlands. And I can commend you to Marshall Lang." With a wry smile, he rose. There was no time like the present, and they were all about military efficiency.

"Let us bolster morale, then, and you can show me what I ought to see. The good and the bad, please. Honest assessments offer the best opportunity to give credit where credit is due, and aid where aid is needed." He paused. "And, perhaps later, we could visit the Lysanrin refugees. I have a young trainee aboard Searing Victory, and it might do them well to see proof that we are as good as our word. They would have little reason to trust anyone after their mistreatment generations after the hubris of Kaitos Diraegon."

[Rune]

The Commander stood when their invitation was accepted. The politics between the Admiral and the Grand Marshal were, as yet, an unknown factor to Eylemir, whose quick rise in the ranks had not included a network of informants outside the area that the newborn fort supported. Would Lang be unhappy if Angevin was shown the bad with the good? The positions of all the disaster-made leaders were still in flux, still something that could be taken away if they proved themselves unworthy of long-term command. Being able to lead troops in the worst of situations did not always translate into being able to lead them in better ones and without the relationships built over decades that usually accompanied such lofty ranks, they could become slippery slopes.

But Lang would not hold his position for a great deal longer, and Eitan chances of remaining in his position, or even greater ones, for a long time were significant. Thinking about ranks and relationships made Eylemir turn as they descended down from their tower office to the ground and asked.

"If it isn't classified, do you plan on visiting the other northern fort?"

Deutsch had dubbed it Dauntless, which was entirely within his character. The man was one that Eylemir wouldn't mind seeing slip down the slope back to a lower rank. He wasn't a bad solider, and he was certainly inspiring to his men, but his interest in glorifying himself had several times rubbed Eylemir the wrong way when they had been trying to work together. The Commander feared that appearances were worth more to Deutsch than reality, and the costs of such a personality could be high. Suggesting that Deutsch was unfit for his position would open the door for the same to be suggested of Eylemir, but if someone else were to do so...

The tour proceeded with all the good, bad and ugly that the growing fort had to offer. Angevin's presence and easy way with soldier and civilian alike had exactly the effect that had been hoped for. The tour ended in the Lysanrin camp, where the Admiral was greeted, warily, by the leaders of several groups. They were just as ragged as Eylemir had intimated, but there was a sturdiness to them, a stalwart nature in their bones that had allowed them to survive.