Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (147/?) WiP 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 147 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

The Nexus. The Kingdom of Transgracia. Skyward Spire Upon Ethalsyd. Airward Court. Briefing Room. Local Time: 1900 Hours. 

Mercenary Captain Ignalius Lisinius

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

I sat there alone in a room too ostentatious for its own good.

I craned my head upwards to observe a mural — painted with the brightest of crimsons and the deepest of blues — depicting the scaly beasts which called this forsaken fortress home, and the very skies which they dominated without contest. 

With a sigh and a stretch I turned to my left, only to bear witness to articles of furniture I swore I’d once gleaned from Crownland advertisements; delicate, spindly things, too frail for a life out here in the crests of the outlands. 

Finally, and with little regard to station and etiquette, I tucked my legs up and leaned to my right, observing the perpetually blue skies beyond the sheltered courtyard below; watching in mild wonder at the beasts that came and went beneath the sentry of this outcropping of an office.

The only thing left to sell the storybook sensibility of this place would be a large balcony from which to deliver speeches.

A sigh soon followed, as I reached my hands upwards for a shoulder stretch, my eyes promptly landing on the greatwood desk in front of me, though I found my interests taken not by the crystal balls nor fanciful trinkets atop of it, no.

Instead, a derisive smirk soon found its home on my ugly mug, as I glared frustratingly at the two suits of armor flanking the bookcase behind said desk.

One for war.

And another for galas.

The former still had its pristine first coat. The mirror-perfect reflection and the scent of ever-shine wax betrayed as much.

While the latter? Well… the latter had clearly gone through its second, third, or maybe even fourth ever-clear coat. 

I couldn’t help but to let out a fitful chuckle at that ridiculous observation.

Oh how far you’ve come, dear cousin.

FWOOOSH!

Speak of the demon, and he shall—

“What are you laughing about this time?” The would-be Skylord spoke. His frame, and indeed his choice of attire, clashing against the title of his station. 

“Oh Captain my Captain, please forgive this lowlife’s insubordination.” I returned facetiously, placing a twice-healed hand atop of an armored chest.

The noble winced at that self deprecating jab, his right eye twitching, whilst both of his gloved hands reached to steady himself against the sturdiness of his leather-topped desk.

He glared at me with vitriol, wishing oh so desperately to spout out inflammatory derogatives amidst calls to reform.

But he couldn’t.

Not when he had no more familial bearing to do so. 

Or at least, that’s what I’d assumed would be the case.

“You sully our blood.” He finally managed out.

“Oh…” I responded with a cheshire grin. “Oh that’s new!” My smile grew wider, as I couldn’t help but to grab both knees tightly, reeling in a cackle that formed at the edges of my gleeful face. “Oh I thought I’d escaped it all. But this? Oh, this is creative!” I chortled, eliciting yet another disgusted side-eye from the would-be Skylord. “Alright alright. Let me play this game. What would this make you then, hmm? No longer cousin by law, so perhaps cousin by blood? I know they say that blood is thicker than water, but dear cousin… I never took you for someone so merciful—”

“Enough!” The elf shouted. His voice carried with it a spell powerful enough to counteract my own escalating coyfulness. “This isn’t a family reunion.”

“So what is it then, m’lord?” I questioned, placing a chin between two armored hands.

“I’m calling on a favor. One backed by gold and silent decree.” Rasante spoke firmly, though my attention landed less on the timbre of his mana-backed speech, and more on the jingle of coins he’d placed on his desk.

“I’m listening.” I responded, shelving everything in exchange for the now.

“The powers that be are… nervous, Ignalius. Word from the Crownlands has it that the Academy and Elaseer have become quite a hotspot for… let’s just say, unprecedented activity.” 

I raised a brow at that, learning back against my seat and allowing both of my legs to return to the carpeted floor with a dull PLOOMPF. 

“Is this about the dragon or the explosion?” I questioned intently. “Because I’m not messing with a Goldthorn’s investiga—”

“The former, Ignalius. I hate you, but I don’t hate you enough to send you on a one-way mission. Not that it was necessary to begin with.” He shrugged.

“So the dragon, then.” I surmised, crossing my arms as I did so. “As if that’s also not a one-way mission, am I right?” I spoke with a sarcastic hiss.

“You’ve dealt with worse.” He countered.

“Oh, most certainly, but—”

“But what, Ignalius? Are you getting old? Is a single amethyst dragon too much of a task for the legendary Breaker of Rontalis? The Silencer of the Guilds? Or perhaps the rumors are true, and you’ve gotten—”

“Setting me off is unwise, cousin.” I cautioned, flaring the local manastreams with a purposeful and unsettling rhythm. 

“Alright then.” The wannabe Skylord simply nodded, his features unbothered. “Let’s de-escelate, shall we?” 

I didn’t respond, merely gesturing for him to continue.

“The amethyst situation is escalating. But no one wishes to commit.” He led on, moving towards the windows and leaving his back entirely exposed.

The temptation was… almost unbearable.

My hands moved to tickle the hilt of my blades, as I attempted to steady my breath, my core shivering at the thought of all the ways this foolish move could so easily go awry.

A leap and a stab.

A swipe and a crack.

Or perhaps a deep, long cut straight through the sides of the spine.

It would be ever-so crunchy.

“—neither the King nor the Privy Council wishes to let this situation escalate.” I heard the tail end of Rasante’s words, but only regained composure after he craned his head back to face me. “Were you even listening?” 

“Oh, sorry.” I responded with a smile. “You know how politics is not my strong suit. Probably why you guys kicked me out, am I right—”

“Let’s not dig up skeletons right now, Ignalius, please?” 

“Alright, alright.” I acquiesced under a frustrated breath. “Run all that by me again, will you?”

The man would’ve growled if he weren’t so bound by decorum. So he did the next best thing, and ha-rumphed in response. 

“Let me put this in a way more conducive to your bastard sensibilities.” He seethed, eliciting nary a shift nor a yawn from my bored posture. “Nobody is willing to foot the first bill, and nobody wants to be the one to start rocking the boat. At least, not until the prime agitator of this incident reemerges as the obvious scapegoat.”

I raised a brow at this, but yawned all the same. “So everyone’s waiting on the Goldthorn’s investigations? Big deal. Just wait then. What’s the rush—”

“The rush is that there’s an amethyst dragon on the loose, you donkey!” Rasante interjected. “If nobody acts, then everyone runs the risk of losing face in the event of a catastrophic attack.”