Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (146/?)

The County Township of Telaseer. Local Transportium Junction. The Hall of Ingress. Local Time: 1305 Hours.

Emma

A brilliant darkness.

Then, a world which defied all contemporary conventions of space and geometry.

We stood on what I could only describe as a doorframe, one which sat in an unfathomable darkness between two points in space.

We were… compressed, impossibly so, as behind us stood Sips, and in front of us was Telaseer.

Yet it was in this ‘in-between’ that physics as I understood it just seemingly up and gave up, as unlike the door which connected The Academy with Elaseer, this ‘portal’ actually had what I called a ‘doorframe gap’.

This wasn’t the seamless jaunt I was introduced to, nor was it the weird world jumping hop I took to reach the Academy from the IAS.

This… was outright dread inducing, as both agoraphobia and claustrophobia threatened to crush me from both sides.

As despite us currently crossing what felt like two-dimensional space, there existed an infinite abyss beyond the frame of the two bright worlds behind and in front of us.

The same sense of primal fear that came with my first untethered space EVA hit me.

Yet at the same time, that fear of drifting into the infinite darkness around us was tempered by the gravity that kept us — and our vehicles — grounded.

But it wasn’t like I had much time to process what’d happened.

Because according to the EVI, the whole… transit — if you could even call it that — took just a handful of seconds.

2.23 seconds to be precise… to travel what was ostensibly a greater distance than that of our entire journey by conventional means thus far.

I would say this was beyond humanity’s capabilities.

But the warp drive made that point completely and utterly moot.

Still… 

This method of travel negated distances.

Whilst warp quite literally propelled you — and the composalite, cargo, weapons, and furniture around you — faster than light.

It was unfair to really compare the two.

The Nexians — as magic seemed to naturally encourage — simply cheated.

Or more fairly, they simply took the path of least resistance available to them.

Humanity on the other hand once again brute forced our way to achieving more of the same… with the added bonus of the industry and infrastructure that sprung up to both allow for and maintain such a dedicated intersolar apparatus.

“Two sides of a very different coin…” I mumbled to myself, not realizing how dumb that analogy sounded until I heard it vocalized.

“You doing alright there, Emma?” Thalmin asked, as he somehow managed to order the kelpie to gently nudge me on the shoulder.

“Yeah! Yeah. I’m just…”

“Not used to transportium travel?” Thalmin chuckled boisterously. 

“I can’t say I am, no.” I responded with a dry snicker.

“Don’t worry, you’re in the same boat.” He spoke reassuringly.

“As you?” 

“Ancestors no! I was actually referring to them.” Thalmin’s smile quickly turned mischievous, before pointing at more than a handful of elves, satyrs, baxi, kobolds, and dwarves currently leaning, facing, or outright collapsed next to a brick and plaster wall — all in varying states of sickness and nausea.

Behind them were carts upon carts of tarped-over wagons, livestock, and just about every kind of produce one could imagine.

I narrowed my eyes at the scene, cocking my head, as I completely forgot about Thalmin’s jab and focused more on the room next to us and its implications.

“Sorry if that was a bit of a low jab, Emma.” Thalmin suddenly interrupted, moving to clear his throat with one hand, whilst using the other to rub the back of his neck. “It wasn’t a commoner joke, if that was in any way offensive—”

“What? No, I was just thinking.”

“About?” The wolf cocked his head.

“Why they all seem to be so sick… and in fact, why there’s a whole dedicated side-room for…” I narrowed my eyes, as the EVI was quick to zoom onto a sign written in common, which was promptly translated to a questionable degree of accuracy. “... Near Death Experience?” I read the translated text word by questionable word, cocking my head at Thalmin as I did so.

This was enough to get the prince to very nearly lose it, as his eyes lit up and his hands went to stifle what would have been a catastrophic laugh; especially out in public.

“That’s… that’s a very literal way of putting it Emma. Your command of High Nexian never ceases to amaze.” He shook his head, calming down, before finally addressing the elephant in the room. “It’s simple, really. They’re weakfielders.” He spoke matter of factly. “I think we touched on this a long while back, but commoners tend to be more susceptible to mana sickness in circumstances wherein there’s a sudden and significant increase in latent mana. The transportium, despite being a near-instantaneous realm of traversal, is one such environment that qualifies as such. This is why even the most seasoned of couriers will still require the services of the—” The prince once more paused, once more shaking his head to stifle a laugh. “—Near Death Room.” 

“Right.” I acknowledged, just as two elves wearing a similar set of town guard gear as Sips’ town approached us. 

“My lord. My lady.” The plate-armored elf addressed us curtly, bowing ever so slightly in the process. “We have been informed of your arrival. However, this is where our courtesy ends.” He continued ominously, before gesturing behind us. “I would humbly request that you move along, for you two are causing quite a queue.” 

The rear view cameras quickly popped in to show a veritable backlog of carts and wagons already forming behind us, prompting us to move along swiftly. Yet the sheer glut of traffic that’d accumulated in barely any time at all just didn’t make sense… there was literally nobody else over on Sips’ side of the transportium—

Then it hit me.

This opening probably didn’t just service Sips.

If the continuously arriving carts were of any indication, the framed portal behind us — and indeed other similar ones to the left and right of it — were more than likely coming from all across the kingdom.

The sheer logistics of this whole operation lit a fire in the furnace of my lore-obsessed heart, as I started to finally take note of every detail of this place.

This particular ‘transportium junction’ wasn’t at all the small and rather quaint terminal building we’d just entered from Sips; where passenger and cargo alike cohabited a cross between a warehouse and a depressing pre-22nd century bus depot.

No.

Instead… what we found ourselves in was a masterfully crafted work of wrought iron and steel, framed by brick and plaster walls, but most impressively — capped by a glass roof held aloft by said iron framing.

But where Sips’ structures would’ve saved a gold piece here and there by streamlining design choices and keeping things simple, Telaseer seemed to do the exact opposite, finding it necessary to add flourishes every chance they got. From the volutes and flower motifs that capped the ends of every support beam, to the scrollwork that shielded the bottom and tops of each pillar, to even tendrils and vines that seemed etched into the very glass it was holding aloft — the message here was clear.

The terminal, as was the case with many terminals on any self respecting station back home, was an attempt to make a good first impression.

It was a blatant display of culture… or simply wealth in the case of the Nexus. 

Though, given the lack of any gold filigree, it was clear they probably weren’t on Elaseer’s level just yet.

“To all pass-bearers, appointees, and privileged persons: please direct yourselves to the Gilded Ingress.” A voice abruptly blared through the cavernous halls, as several attendants dressed in what I could only describe as a cross between victorian butler-wear and 18th century stagecoach attendants ushered the few ‘privileged’ travelers towards a largely empty path.

“Come on Emma, let’s get moving.” Thalmin urged, as I followed him silently towards our ‘privileged’ path.

Despite the grandiose space the terminal took up, it was clear that it wasn’t just for show… as was often the case at the Academy.

Because here? The massive open concourses and wide halls actually served a purpose — commerce.

Though I guess you could argue the egos of Academy students needed just as much — if not more — space than carts, wagons, and buggies.

Speaking of which…

Cart after cart passed us by, falling into their own neat little lanes demarcated not just by traffic lines, but by grooves carved into the tile and stone floors of the place. 

Three such grooves existed in the same lane, allowing for three ‘axle gauges’ to cohabit the same track towards the cargo checkpoint ahead.

That little detail, whilst easily overlooked, conveyed so much in just one neat package; communicating to those observant the Nexus’ abilities for standardization on a truly ‘global’ scale.

Whilst not as strikingly impressive as the portals or the transportium itself, what it alluded to was just as important, if not arguably more important — administrative planning, political will, and the organizational capital and competence required to carry out said will.

“It’s one thing to have portals and impressive features en masse.” I began softly, garnering Thalmin’s attention with a flick and a tilt of his perky triangular ears. “Those are one-off wonders, the tools to get the job done. It’s another thing entirely to be able to create the boring systems capable of utilizing said tools towards grand and consistent ends.” I continued, pointing out the tracks and carts to Thalmin. “A simple idea, deceptively basic honestly. But when applied to something as wide, diverse, and packed with an impossible amount of variable factors as the Nexus? The fact that standardization of something as integral and fundamental as axle gauges is nothing short of impressive.”

“You really do pick up on the sorts of things most others at the Academy would overlook, Emma.” Thalmin responded with an amused huff. “But I see your point.” He conceded. “While my younger self would have dismissed this as a silly point of hyperfixation, my trevails and assignments to the north of my kingdom have given me newfound respect for the often-overlooked matter of transportation.” Thalmin took a deep sigh, staring forward blankly, as if recalling something painful. “What I would have given for something like the transportium…” He mumbled under his breath, just as we reached an exit counter. 

“Papers, please.” The satyr attendant spoke politely, as we responded in kind to her request.

The exchange of Chiska’s field trip travel papers and a cursory glance at our vehicles was all that was needed before we were let through.

Not even a baggage check was done as we emerged through a set of stained glass double doors and into the wider world.

What hit us first wouldn’t be the grandeur of the town, nor the impressive scale of the buildings around us.

Instead, it was what could only be described as a massive roadblock worth of carts, buggies, and carriages. All of which were lined up, bumper to fender, or in this case… horse to… cart? All along the main cargo ‘egress’ of the terminal, causing what could only be described as a traffic bottleneck of apocalyptic proportions.

However, that was only one side of the story.

The second, would be the massive cart-spanning banners depicting wheat and flour, all with prices, offers, and what could only be described as an egregious amount of slang that all translated poorly, or outright vulgarly, if the EVI was to be trusted.

The third, and probably most obnoxious thing about this however, was the ear-splitting whistles, honks, yells, and screams of those standing atop of these carts. All of which, confirmed my suspicions over exactly what this was.

“FORTIS’ MILLERS! DEPOSIT YOUR GRAIN AT FORTIS’ MILLERS! WE OFFER 20 TIMES THE ASKING PRICE OF THE NEXT MILLER! JUST A TWO-WEEK WAIT FOR PAYOUT ON MILLING!” A red and yellow tunic wearing elf yelled out at the top of his lungs, only to be beaten in sheer volume by a dwarf right next to him.

“ESIL’S FINE MILLING HOUSE! WE BUY ALL GRAIN! CORN! WHEAT! WHEAT-CORN! ONE SILVER FOR A BALE-LOAD! TWO SILVERS FOR A PROMISSARY TOKEN!” 

Though even that would pale in comparison to what came next, as a kobold dressed in what could only be described as a cross between a jester, clown, and car-salesman attire stood up proudly atop of a dedicated crow’s nest on his cart.

“FORGET THE COMPETITION! HAVE DEBTS YOU NEED PAID? TAXES YOU HAVE OWED? FAMILY THAT WILL BE WHISKED INTO THE NIGHT IF YOU DON’T MAKE PAYMENTS NOW NOW NOW?! WELL COME ON DOWN TO TEVER’S MILLING HOUSE! WE DON’T JUST SIGN PROMISARIES…” The Kobold paused, gesturing to his satyr and dwarven helpers to haul massive sacks of visibly heavy sack-fulls of coins. The likes of which caused the cart to tilt forward. “... WE PAY IN COIN UPON PURCHASE!”

All of these… advertisements clearly worked on the still-nauseous farmers that meandered near the egress doors, as some seemed swayed by the promises of the elf’s trustworthy offer… but most were quite predictably crowding around the red kobold’s cart as a result of his boisterous promises.

The wider trade dynamics of the Nexus, at least as it pertained to the outlands, started becoming clear to me here. As the winds of commerce and trade blew hard against the predictable chokepoints by which trade flowed.

“Huh.” Was all I could say, before we were ourselves stopped by tradesfolk of a different sort.

“Your highnesses, your majesties! Oh by His Eternal Will it is fate by which we were destined to meet! Please, we have the finest accommodations in all—” A finely dressed elf offered, but was just as quickly pushed aside by another.

“Your highnesses, please! Allow me to—”

“No thank you.” Thalmin responded with a dulcet growl, completely taking the small crowd by surprise as they made way for us without a single word more.

The kelpie’s death glare probably had a few things to do with that though…

Regardless, it was only when we broke free of the hotel offers, tour guides, souvenir peddlers, and knick-knack salesfolk that we finally made it out of the transport hub and into downtown proper.

It was here that we were met with something genuinely missing from both of Elaseer’s districts, commoner and ambassadorial — scale.

Elaseer was, quite obviously, a sort of college town. Its size, whilst perhaps impressive by Sips’ standards, was quite honestly lacking.

Telaseer, by contrast, was what I’d expected of Elaseer upon first hearing of it.

There were four wide boulevards, each with three lanes divided in half by planters and streetlights. These roads of magical concrete and asphalt were all led way to a massive circular roundabout, which in itself encircled a public town square and the city’s centerpiece — an obelisk soaring about as high as the Washington monument. Atop of it, was a sort of beacon, one which pulsated and glowed, drawing all sorts of stone golems to circle it.

Moreover, it was here in the wide open avenues that we were able to finally see the skies proper. 

At which point, I couldn’t help but to be quite intrigued at what I saw.

I’d assumed they were just flocks of birds at first. However, upon closer view courtesy of the EVI’s sensors, I saw them for what they were — drakes.

Mounted drakes to be precise, each of which was decked in armor and other magical gear, as well as what appeared to be some sort of… magical weapons complements, or at least cargo, strapped to the underside near the base of their wings.

These drake riders were kitted with plate armor that seemed to glow against the afternoon sun, complete with decorative wings that fluttered against the wind as they ducked and weaved in patterns that not a single citizen down below seemed to notice nor care about.

However, the presence of these riders was promptly explained by the litany of public notices and posters scattered around storefronts, billboards, and public noticeboards.

Though these too were supplemented by the presence of what could only be described as town criers, many of which stood atop of plinths, concentrated most prominently in the town square that we just so happened to be passing through.

“In keeping with the promises of the Crown to all of its subjects, the Privy Council has dispatched Sky Wardens of the Skyward Spire Upon Ethalsyd to patrol the town’s perimeter! There shall be no incursions from the likes of the fabled amethyst dragon, and rest assured, our lords are more than capable of downing a measly sundered beast.” The rotund crier bellowed out loudly, just as one of his two attendants reached for another scroll, unfurling it for their boss to read. “Hear ye, hear ye! Today's public bread has been graciously provided by the bountiful surplus of the brotherhood of millers under Baron Qarth L'Sips… The brotherhood of millers uses only the finest grain. True Nexian bread for true Nexians." 

I couldn’t help but to blink curiously at that last announcement, but just as quickly moved on from the town square and onto another boulevard leading straight to the town’s exit. 

Along the way, we encountered more evidence of the town’s impressive prosperity, from its bustling streets to its dense yet well-kept buildings. However, all of these paled in comparison to a rather out of place construct that dominated the town’s skyline once we reached the halfway point of our journey out of town — a stadium.

Or more accurately, an amphitheatre giving off some massive colosseum vibes.

The ovoid structure rose high above the four-story midrises at this district of the city, its shadow casting upon much of the boulevard, even at a fairly respectable distance.

Indeed, the placement of the structure didn’t seem to be random, as the boulevard eventually veered towards one of its grand entrances, even going so far as to route much of its path along one of the oval structure’s sides.

It was here that passer-bys were able to glance at both the posters on display, but most impressively a wide floor to ceiling glass outcropping that led straight into what signs referred to as the Hall of Heroes.

This proved to be the sight of an unexpected reunion, as the both of us came to an abrupt stop simultaneously, our eyes meeting with the very person that sent us out on this quest.

Or at least, a stone and marble facsimile of her.

Quickly dismounting, we approached the glass outcropping, putting our faces close against it to confirm if this truly was who we thought it was.

The nameplate at the bottom of the statue’s plinth was enough to dispel any and all doubts however, as Thalmin turned towards me with a bemused expression.

“Lady Chiska Malamont — The Hero of Hervahale, Grand Champion of the Drake Rider’s Table of Transgracia, Honorary Sky Warden, and Grand Master of the Drake Rider’s Hunting Club. Victor of the Telaseer Drake Riding Championship for 20 Consecutive years.” Thalmin read out, before stopping as the next part of the text was just too small from where we stood.

The EVI made short work of it however, as I quickly read it out. 

“Quote: I chose to stop at 20 because it was getting boring.” 

We both turned to one another after that, each of us cracking a smile and shrugging in unison. 

“What a legend.” We both spoke simultaneously, resulting in a uniform chuckle between us.

“Out of all of the professors… I think Professor Chiska’s the only one to really deserve our respect.” Thalmin offered. 

“Yeah, that’s something we can definitely agree on.” I acknowledged, before promptly returning to the V4c.

A few curious onlookers had finally gathered around our respective conveyances by that point however, though many seemed to be more interested in the V4c than the kelpie… and probably for good reason, as the beast looked about ready to tear into a bystander at the slightest hint of provocation.

The crowd quickly scattered as we arrived however, though a few children were brave enough to remain, each of them addressing me with their own little questions.

“What’s that?” A small elf questioned, pointing at the GUN emblem Sorecar had taken the liberty of personally forging for the front of the motorcycle.

However, before I could answer, the floodgates of questions had opened up.

“Is that a family crest?”

“Are you an adjacent realmer?”

“Why are you wearing weird armor?”

I took a moment to crouch down to their level, garnering several quizzical looks from parents and bystanders alike.

“That—” I pointed to the emblem. “—is my realm’s emblem. And yes, I am an adjacent realmer. And as for why I’m wearing ‘weird armor’, well… I guess you could say it’s a knightly vow of sorts.” I winked, garnering a series of ‘oohhs’ and ‘aahhs’.

I took that as my opportunity to get out of dodge, as Thalmin and I quickly mounted back up, and began our rapid escape out of the town’s limits.

The boulevard never once narrowed, even as we reached the outskirts of town, where building height and density grew increasingly more modest.

One would have expected this to result in a decrease of traffic, but that was hardly the case, as carts carrying ore, produce, and a whole host of mystery boxes continued to funnel through the boulevard; keeping it relatively full in one way or another.

It took us a good half hour, but we finally made it to a tavern by the town walls.

There, we took a moment to regain our bearings, the town guards regarding us with two simple nods as they both raised the gates without much fanfare.

“You two are Academy students, right?”

“Yup! That’s us!” I acknowledged with a smile.

“Right, we’ve been informed of your quest. Just make sure to make for the North-Northerly paths. Avoid the North Rythian forests, because they’re currently off-limits.” The dwarf warned, as the both of us nodded firmly in response.

“You got it, sir!” I beamed.

However, before we could leave, a deafening blood curdling scream emerged from the tavern, before a series of yells suddenly pierced through the air soon after.

This most certainly got our attention, as did the dramatic flight of one particularly overdressed elf, who turned every which way, his eyes filled with fear and fright.

“HELP! HELP! OH WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!” He cried out, before his eyes managed to meet our reluctant gaze. “OH THANK HIS MAJESTY’S GRACES! ADVENTURERS!” He shouted in relief, waddling over towards us on shoes that looked more designer than practical. “Oh adventurers! Please! I… I am in desperate need of assistance! My only daughter, s-she’s missing, she’s—”

“Erm, slow down, what happened?” I asked reluctantly.

“M-my daughter! We-we. We are. We were—” The elf continued to stutter, before gesturing towards the tavern in panicked motions. “T-today’s the day of her marriage, and in accordance with marriage customs, she was secluded in her room with neither family nor fiance allowed to be in her presence until the passing of the next noon. It has been several hours since, and in worry, we entered her room, only to find… NOTHING!” 

“Okay… sir, I think—”

“I think she’s kidnapped, yes!” He swiftly interjected. “Or perhaps she fled for some unknown purpose… but regardless, if I don’t act now, I’ll not only lose her, but the dowry she carried on her person!” 

Thalmin and I quickly turned to one another with tired, quizzical eyes. And, using our newfound silent soldier-to-soldier vibe checks, we both turned back to the overly dressed elf with a definitive response.

“Sir.” I spoke carefully. “If your daughter is really missing, then I’m sure the town guard will be able to act much faster and way more competently than both of us could. We’re not investigators, and we’re definitely not detectives; we’d just end up bumbling it” I offered.

“We’re also already on a quest, it would be dishonorable to take up another while we haven’t yet completed our present task.” Thalmin concluded.

The elf simply faltered at this, clasping his hands together, and trying one final push. “B-but the dowry! The dowry! The pearls! The gold! The jewels! And the dress! I promise you’ll be rich beyond imagining!” 

“This isn’t about the money.” I interjected. “Sir, please. Just… ask the town guard, they’ll know what to do.” I paused, pointing to the town guard we’d just spoken to. “I’m very sorry, I empathize, but we’re both woefully out of our league when it comes to missing persons cases.” I gently put my foot down, as we promptly took our leave before he could utter some other plea.

I made sure to alert the guards to this however, though the look on their faces made it clear that something was off with the guy. Moreover, his only response was a tired groan, as if he’d heard this story a dozen times before.

Strangely, but rather decisively, I watched my rear view cameras to witness that the ‘desperate’ elf didn’t so much as even glance at the guards. The man just smoothed down his tunic and jacket, before slinking back into the tavern wordlessly.

“So…” I turned to Thalmin, as we broke from nice town roads and back onto the Royal Roads we knew and loved. “... what do you make of that whole ‘my daughter is missing’ case?”

“A work of deception.” The prince concluded confidently. “If there was ever any doubt, then just look at his reluctance to approach the guard even as we relayed his concerns to them.” 

“Right.” I acknowledged. “Well… thankfully we seemed to have avoided all the sidequests in town.” I chuckled, before turning to the quest timer. “Which means we’re more or less back on schedule… since I kind of factored in the potential for time-wasting over in Telaseer.”

Thalmin nodded wordlessly at this, his focus seemingly tied once again to the Kelpie.

“So… have you thought of a name for them yet?” 

“For the kelpie?”

“Yeah.” I acknowledged.

“Not necessarily, no.”

“Do you mind if I suggest one?”

Thalmin’s eyes narrowed at this, as if waiting for some joke to drop. “Go on?”

“So you know you had Emberstride right?”

“Yes?”

“Well I was thinking… wouldn’t it be thematic and on-brand if we went with… Aquastride?” I offered frankly.

This caused Thalmin’s features to simply stiffen into a neutral inquisitive one.

“Isn’t that… rather on the nose, Emma?”

“I mean… it just fits right? Emberstride’s fire-based, and with the Kelpie being a water-based creature… why not Aqua stride?”

The lupinor went silent, before letting out a long tired sigh, coupled with a dismissive laugh. “I’ll consider it, Emma. If you consider naming your bi-treader Lightningtread.” 

“Why?” I shot back.

“Because that’s as silly as your own proposal for—”

“Done.”

“Wait, what—”

“Done! Lightningtread is badass, Thalmin, thanks!” I beamed. “It’s better than just calling it the V4c all the time after all… but now the ball’s in your court. Are we going with Aquastride?”

Thalmin went silent at that, grumbling, as he sighed and shrugged. “Give me a few more hours to decide at least.”

“Deal.”

=====

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Gardens. Local Time: 1700 Hours

Ilphius

I was angry.

But I wasn’t dumb.

Ladona was trying to use me, that slimy, squirmy insect of a noble.

Yet… I couldn’t deny that she was right in so, so many ways.

Lord Etholin was a spineless carpet of a man, and I needed to act on my own behalf if I am to seize my own destiny.

The newrealmer’s group has been living in a delusion of invincibility, enjoying the good hand fate seems to be adamant on providing for them.

Which was precisely why they needed to be reminded of their frailty.

“Ah, fancy meeting you here Lady Airit—”

“What do you want, Lady Ilphius?” The lesser avinor sniped down any and all pretenses of polite conversation, letting her peer group’s laurels lift her up through no effort of her own.

“I simply wished to talk. To discuss the matter of a certain newrealmer—”

“Well she’s not here, and I have no desire to act as a pawn in whatever game of subterfuge you have up your sleeves.” The shatorealmer stood firm, her eyes poised on her nails rather than my gaze.

“She might not be here, but her peers certainly are.” I jumped straight into the bait, laying it out bluntly for the lesser avinor. “A certain… greater avino—”

I felt the air around me suddenly thin, as in a matter of seconds, our gazes were locked without any semblance of civility. 

“Choose your next words carefully, Lady Ilphius.” Airit seethed.

“I’m… merely proposing… an alliance of opportunity… Lady Airit.” I managed out, as I subtly attempted to shoot back counterspell after counterspell to little effect. “The muscle of the group is missing, and all that remains are the two weakest links… you know this, and I wish to reiterate this just in case—”

“What? Just in case I cave and become a pawn in your games? Need I remind you, Lady Ilphius, that I am not struggling at the bottom of the peer group ladder. I have all to lose, but you have all to gain. Be grateful I am even spelling this out for your sorry soul.” She seethed, before finally letting up on whatever spell she’d casted around me.

I took in deep breaths, my eyes burning with frustration.

“Fight your own fights, or better yet, give me a proposal worth listening to.” She added dismissively, as I continued gasping for air. “You have a day, and no more. Now go.” She raised a wing, shooing me as she dismissed me.

Me.

Lady Ilphius of—

“You can internally monologue your defeat elsewhere, that clouded mind of yours is ruining a perfectly fine evening.”