Legend of Ransera

They hadn't so very long to wait before a black-clad sentinel led Kala and her small entourage toward Hilana and the rest. A subtle eye would note the markers of the Custodes Deorum upon their uniform. Much had changed since their last, awkward social engagement. Akantha, of course, had noticed, though she didn't know exactly what had happened that Kala could show more skin now, her wings present or absent per her need without a need for the clever cloak Torin had created for her to keep her wings under wraps.

She wore trousers and a sort of tunic, loose, but carefully tailored to a specific silhouette quite different from her male companions. A hint of fringe here and there hearkened back to her people, and hunter green was the primary color of her ensemble. A platinum gorget around her neck was edged with a short shrug or cape, its base hidden, festooned with bits of pale gold fabric reminiscent of flower petals or feathers.

All of the Silver Wings Hilana had ever met were there. They had been to the Plane of Wood with them previously, and wouldn't miss this one. It made sense, though. Both Kaus and Ceran were elementalists; Indric, Asallon, and even Aito were summoners—granted, Aito's poor summoning skills were why his soul was now a strange amalgam of the summoner and the demon of avarice he had been unable to control.

Regardless, they could all benefit from a jaunt to the Plane of Metal, the elementalists to attune, and the summoners to meet metallic spirits in the flesh, so to speak.

Pale blue eyes lit up when the alighted upon Hilana, and she hurried forward to greet her, taking her hands and kissing her cheeks.

"Hilana, it has been too long!" There hadn't been enough time for a proper postmortem after that dinner, but while she hadn't tried to probe past the woman's defenses, she had gotten the impression that they were aligned on one thing: Raithen was an attractive man.

Hilana had seemed practical about it, and didn't seem the type to attempt to marry up; rather, she had carved out a niche for herself that wasn't derived from any man. Kala could respect that. And while Kala had dallied with the dux, a large part of it had been because of his interest in his Avialae heritage. She cared for him, even felt the tug to pull him away from his mother's enchaining apron strings, but he had not indicated any desire to formalize a relationship, whereas Phocion had.

She didn't get the sense that aught was amiss between them, and that gladdened her, for she didn't see them in competition, but preferred to think of how they had collaborated since they met at the Citadel all that time ago.

Indric was actually the next to step up, having pulled something out of a hidey-hole in the slipspace. He handed a velvet bag to her, and she held it out for Hilana. The velvet was a dark blue, and a small scroll was tied to it with blue ribbon.

"Mail and a small present from Siv. I didn't open it, but it's fortified mead. I didn't want to break the sigil of dormancy, so I'm assuming some alchemy was involved..."

"Oh, thank you... People in Kalzasi used to look at me strangely when I arrived with my mountain people clothes. Now some of them copy me. A strange world we live in."

Kala felt a brief pang of empathy for Athalia, as she was the shortest in her family. Akshara was a statuesque woman, Aquilios of a height with Ceran and Indric. She and Kaus were born small. Kaus, at least, was tall enough for a human, if not so tall as Avialae tended to be. When Kala herself had been refashioned by Garel, she hadn't gained any height, most likely because it came after pubescence. Alas!

But people underestimated her, and that was a blessing sometimes.

Once everyone had met everyone, it felt quite relaxed, even if there were Sentinels looking on. She couldn't help but acknowledge them, nodding a greeting at least while otherwise pretending that with their veils up, they didn't exist.

"I thought I recognized his work," Asallon was saying, the Siltori crouching to make Kalor's acquaintance.

Indric was wondering whether he might help Hilana and Sivan meet more easily; he was the Traveler, and would be able to take Sivan to any of the planes he had visited and then open a door to Hilana's home in Solunarium. If Sivan wasn't comfortable in the realm of the Ex-Re'ha, perhaps Indric could make play dates more convenient for teacher and student.

In any case, after a bit of chit-chat among them all, Kala stood up after feeding Kalor a mote of pure Fire. The summoners in her life had taught her some best practices for making spirits like her, even if she wasn't a summoner herself. She had considered learning it, but now, between her on-the-job legal training, her ability to travel to various planes where spirits existed, and the divinity within her, she was rather sure she could just scrive a compact that would be as binding as what a summoner did.

Of course, she hadn't yet tried; she was cautious.

"Silver Wings, reporting for duty," she said with a faint, amused lilt. "We are ready to venture forth when you are."

"As I would gladly borrow some of Hilana's style, although I would only be able to wear it in the hottest part of the year in Karnor," she said with a rueful smile.

But when the time came to move, Kala and her kin calmed immediately and were prepared to move. The Silver Wings were mercenaries, after all. And Kala did not like to make the Sentinels' jobs more difficult than they needed to be either.

When warned to watch her step, she smiled and beveled one foot to show the steel-toed boot, seemingly too heavy for her delicate frame.

Once across the threshold, she could feel the difference. She could sense it via different runes, and she could also sense the metals around her with an intuitive sort of understanding how they had been forged in the heart of a star. It was a strange way to think, but it was becoming more commonplace the longer she was divine.

"Curious," she murmured. Even the dust under her feet was all metallic: mostly iron just here, and traces of others. And she was curious about the geography of the planes, as well. Did north even have meaning here? Perhaps she could look over her map later, if that wasn't some secret. Solunarium was a land of many secrets, and she supposed she herself was one of them. The Twins had welcomed her, and their Custodes Deorum kept her divinity quiet.

Aware that this was less a pleasure trip than the Plane of Wood had been, Kala and her Silver Wings were resolute and quick to follow the dictates of Hilana and the Sentinels.

"Impervious, yes," she said with a smile, "but we do still feel the temperatures. And I still keep my wings hidden from most people at the behest of the crown. They do not want me to be a target for Gelerand, and I agree with that. If they could capture a draegir and his draconic spouse in the heart of their domain, I fear I would be even easier pickings. I would not like to end my days as a brood mare for the Kathar legions."

As awful as that eventuality was, she said it rather matter-of-factually.

Then she laughed, apropos of something she hastened to share lest they think her mad. "My mother, bless her heart, is quite offended on my behalf that the great lords and ladies of Kalzasi haven't offered me either their hands in marriage or that of male heirs in order to secure a more robust bloodline—winged parents on both sides of the family tree—but I must admit that being desired for my wings would be even more troubling than if I were desired for... Well..."

She looked down. Her bust might be underwhelming, but she rather thought the other women would catch her drift. It was, of course, nice to be desirable, but if she was reduced to a set of wings attached to a womb, that would be disgusting.

"But I think Vastian attire would be more comfortable in the months of Searing, even if only because then the stronger sunlight would feel like a caress upon the skin. And most likely people would just see it as exotic, rather than unbefitting. Formal affairs require formality, of course, but showing skin when the sun is out is hardly taboo."

The relationship between the fire spirit using a golem body like a suit of armor and Hilana's sister made her smile as they began to hike. Already, she was reaching out to the plane around her, sembling through the lens of her elemental rune. It was important to sense the world around her, the better to prevent nasty surprises.

When Hilana asked after her, she had to think about what she could say that would be of interest to her that wasn't classified. Hilana, at least, might suspect her divine nature given they met at the citadel of the Custodes Deorum, but whether she ought to tell her about the leap in power and responsibility since her dinner party—that was questionable. Should she share the news from Arcas about the tears in reality? No, but she would collaborate with Aværys should he deign too in matters of Light. Most likely Phocion did not want Hilana to know that he might be joining her at a royal wedding in Silfanore...

And then there was the question of Raithen. She knew some of what Kaus knew from his chats via magic mirror, but she didn't know whether they had better speak of him in front of Athalia or any others, especially given there were Sentinels within earshot.

Kala didn't think he loved her any differently from how he loved Hilana, but he was certainly acting strangely. Most likely it was a Phædryn-Sol'Aværys thing. In any case, perhaps they would get a chance to speak before she had to return to Kalzasi.

"Hm, well. Yes." She laughed quietly. "The work never ceases, but I cannot complain. And you?"

Kala shared a rueful and long-suffering smile with Athalia. The standards she held herself to were far stricter than what she expected of others, but that was a function of the idea that power came with responsibility. She didn't know the particulars of how that applied to the Vastian sisters, but the empathy was real.

She smiled for Hilana's jest, as well—at least, she hoped it was mere jest—and nodded in agreement with Athalia's veto.

Not knowing the particulars about why it might upset the crown prince's Kalzasern husband, she could only laud him for his wisdom in the matter. Kala herself was already low-key terrified knowing that the stars bent time and space around them, and what a responsibility came with that domain. She might be able to bend time a little if she focused her divine powers upon it, but she would hesitate to do anything of great moment—leave that in the capable claws of the appropriate Dragon God.

A quietly radiant smile was cast upward in acknowledgement of the spirits.

She had no Dratori blood to speak to them, nor the appropriate Cardinal Rune; stellar spirits spoke to her, seemed inclined to offer her service merely because of who she was, or who she was becoming. Most of their work, however, happened far beyond the bounds of what most people considered Ransera. Eventually, she was determined to get their Sun to speak to her, though, as the nearest star.

"Ah, I believe after a meeting with the trade minister tomorrow, I have no plans keeping me in Solunarium."

In fact, she had heard that the newly ducal Finn Viator was in Drathera on a diplomatic mission and now she was wondering whether she couldn't get Pahoran to take her to Dawnhold again, and there gain passage to Ailos; from there, she might easily reach Drathera and speak to their trade ministers. While she was nominally in charge of trade within Karnor, she had already made headway with Sol'Valen in Turoth and Solunarium in Ecith; somebody had to do the work that the Lord Minister would not, after all.

Of course, she didn't want to rile up Hilana with talk of the Orkhan people. Not here where many things were quite, quite sharp.

"But I can make time. That is, not literally." It was a recall to Hilana's previous joke, but might slip under the waves. She smiled.