20.1

20.1

ACT 963161069-26889.24.(M11.D29)(8697-8647 B.C. Sun's Height (July) First Moon (First Week) Surdon (Sunday))-Eve-Smith-Silver Prime

Time is different now. Eve thought as she watched the streets below the Silver Bank. Progress brought prosperity and the streets reflected that. It feels more fluid, an elusive concept outside my comprehension. Space though is even more easily grasped now.

Fifty years had passed since negotiations with Bear Island. The Astrolabe and Compass had turned House Mormont into a nautical powerhouse. They had annexed the Iron Isles and extended their reach to every piece of land not connected to a mainland. Every island in the world now bore the banner of the Bear.

Eve had made a personal venture once more to the Drowned God to purchase the secret of Krakenspiech. Teaching the language to Lady Madeline had created a silver grip in a satin glove for all nautical trade. Those who chose to attempt shipping on their own without purchasing insurance from the Bear found nothing but ashes.

“Strange Lady, the board of directors is ready.” Lyessa said from behind Eve.

Eve turned letting her eyes roam over the artwork on the waiting room’s walls, the silver filigree inlay, and the polished stone floor. A banker from Earth would recognize the décor as easily as breathing. It was decadent luxury. As the decades had passed, she had been offloading her responsibilities. The First ran the Faceless, the Third ran the Silver Bank, and the Record Keeper ran the Whispers. Elira had taken over the newly created Research and Development division.

Potions kept her people young extending their lives. Kudzu couldn’t grant immortality, but three thousand years was easily within reach.

Eve turned away from the window and strode toward the conference room where the board had been assembled with Lyessa keeping pace beside her. “Do you remember what I once said about control?”

Lyessa nodded, “Physical violence cannot ever replace the chains that money creates.”

“Exactly.” Eve said as they walked down a lengthy corridor. “The board of directors believes that we should raise armies. They think that physical force will make people submit to us. It is idiocy of the highest order. Mercenaries will not stand guard over a craftsman, nor will they watch over fields enforcing rules against a farmer.”

“Profit is the weapon that bends even the strongest back.” Lyessa said with a nod.

“Exactly. A man will work hard to raise his station in life if it doesn’t crush him to do so. His wife will push him higher to enjoy better things, too.” Eve said as her clothing shifted from shapeless robes into a suit built for boardroom battles. Creating something that wouldn’t look out of place in a corporate takeover was effortless for her. “Currency is the lever that moves civilization. I have let these idiots have free reign at Third’s request but it is clear they have no foresight.”

“The revenue streams have turned into rivers, the Third is managing them all at the moment. I don’t think she allowed this to occur on purpose.” Lyessa said in a placating tone.

Eve sighed. It was true that the Third hadn’t likely expected the board to be this stupid. It was one thing to call on a loan, and quit another to buy mercenaries. Previously she had been slowly funding the creation of different mercenary companies. Over time they would become excellent tools. However, this method is too quick, greedy grasping hands reaching relentlessly.

“This is going to be such a mess.” Eve muttered as she entered the conference room and took a seat at the head of the table. Lyessa closed the door, before taking a position behind Eve on her right side.

Eve took a moment to look at the five directors arrayed at the oblong table. Director Ivan was directly to her right. Ivan was a staunch enthusiast of expansion. He didn’t have problems squeezing every copper coin till it leaked blood. To her left was Director Robert. A decade older than Ivan, he favored the more methodical approach of creeping strangulation. Robert was a master of vertical integration.

Ivan’s left held Director Irene, she was a fanatic believer in opportunistic exploitation, and she had no qualms about her view on debt repayment. Robert’s right was taken by Director Alice, who was an expert in pushing the boundaries of pricing.

At the far end of the table, Director Morowitz held sway. He was a neutral party, available to the highest bidder. His personal view was profit oriented, but he always kept the Silver Bank’s motto in mind.

Eve relaxed back in her luxury leather chair as Director Ivan fired the first shot. “I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance. Is there a particular reason you are sitting in the President’s Chair?”

“That’s because I own this institution.” Eve said calmly her hands resting on the chair’s armrest. “I am the President.”

Only the slight widening of the eyes gave warning of the shocking revelation Eve had spoken. The Third had always acted in her place, making those unaware believe she was the Silver Bank’s President. It was amusing because the founding documents clearly referenced Eve. The problem at play was those documents were over a thousand years old.

So, the founder had to be dead, and the living President was chosen by the Faceless. Eve thought with amusement. In a world with dragons, it is so hard to understand someone outside mortal lifespan limits.

Director Ivan responded fastest after internalizing the realization. “The Silver Bank needs to expand. Expansion is the lifeblood of any business!”

“Yes, your plan for expansion. If I understand it correctly is to act like a thug.” Eve said not even opening the folder Lyessa placed in front of her.

Director Ivan frowned as he said, “The threat of physical violence will incite the proper response. People are motivated when their lives are under threat.”

“Motivated?” Eve said compressing derision into a single word.

Director Irene took up the battle standard that Ivan had dropped, “Correct. They are motivated not to lose their lives. Fear is a powerful motivation that can cause individuals to accomplish in credible boosts to productivity.”

“Tell me. How long would you keep a person motivated?” Eve asked with a blank expression. “A day. A week. A year, perhaps?”

Director Irene and Ivan glanced at each other before Ivan said, “Forever would be best. As long as we are eternally feared, the profits would be immense.”

“Fear is a powerful motivator. I agree. Thank you for your service. I feel after listening to both of you I should provide motivation.” Eve said. The sound of two sharp cracking noises split the boardroom. Air rushed to fill the sudden vacancy where the two Director’s had been sitting.

“What?” Director Robert managed to utter in surprise.

“I’ve sent them to Cape Kraken. Hopefully the local creatures motivate them to live.” Eve said with a bright smile.

Director Roberts and Director Alice appeared to realize the Silver Bank was more than a mere coin collector. It was a titan of not just the financial world, but a far more esoteric one. Director Morowitz said, “Is there a reason for such drastic action?”

Eve nodded, “Our enemies are even now arraying against two of our best customers. While those two idiots wanted to make us enemies in every corner of the world, I’ve had enough. What is the bank’s motto?”

“Buy low, sell high.” The three directors said almost automatically.

“Exactly. Buy. The action of a trade. We are traders, lenders, financiers. We are not warlords, we are not petty kings, or onerous tyrants.” Eve said. “The purpose of the Silver Bank is to move towards my will, not burn the building down around me.”

Director Robert asked politely, “What directive should we pursue?”

Eve smiled and said, “Dragons. The bank’s purpose is to fund and increase in the number of dragons in the world.”

“How would we even go about such a thing?” Director Alice asked.

Eve smiled and said, “For the salary you are paid, I am sure you will figure it out. Unless you require motivation?”

All three directors shook their heads in a negative response.

“The military forces of the bank are for protection, they are surgical knives, not butcher’s blades.” Eve said. She looked at her three directors and said, “Let me show you, what we are up against.”

Eve reached out with her power pulling everyone into a vision.

The night was a shroud, stitched with the whispers of fallen stars, its fabric adorned by the breath of the eternal heavens. Through its obsidian veil, Meng Yao, a warrior of peerless valor, traversed the eerie remnants of a world once bright, a world now choked by shadow. His quest was to unveil the mystery of the Seven, a clandestine cult of the Andals that had stirred the pot of destiny, distilling the elixir of chaos that had engulfed the world.

The relentless Andal invasion forces, like a tsunami of steel and blood, had washed over the lands, leaving ruin as the tide receded. Their ambition was as vast as the cosmos itself, a black hole that sought to consume the universe of life and civilization. territories had risen in resistance, akin to stars against the night, but their brilliance had been smothered, their light extinguished.

Meng Yao, accompanied by a handful of faithful comrades, embarked on a journey to unravel the dread web spun by the Andals and the Cult of the Seven. Ancient murmurs of a prophecy had reached their ears, a tale that spoke of a celestial beacon who would challenge the Seven and precipitate their end. Meng Yao considered himself this beacon, and his comrades, the stardust guiding his path.

Delving deeper into the maw of the enemy, the air became a palpable pressure, a weight of dread and anticipation. They flitted through the darkness, elusive as spirits, eluding the watchful eyes of the Andal invaders. Meng Yao’s gaze, resolute as the course of a comet, directed his comrades towards the beating heart of enemy territory.

Eventually, they found themselves at the foot of the Seven’s tent of worship. Its leathery walls loomed like a mountain range, guarded by a sea of Andal warriors. Meng Yao’s heart echoed the rhythm of impending battle as he rallied his comrades for the looming conflict. With a shared understanding, they erupted into a spectacle of martial skill, engaging the enemy with the dance of life and death.

Meng Yao challenged the Seven, his blade whistling a mournful dirge through the air. But the Seven were not mere mortals. Their power echoed the cosmos, their movements as swift and unpredictable as cosmic rays. Each assault they delivered was akin to a supernova, threatening to shatter Meng Yao's spirit.

Despite their heroism, the tide of battle began to turn against them. Meng Yao's comrades fell like shooting stars, their flames extinguished by the chilling might of the Seven. Meng Yao fought relentlessly, his body scarred and battered, his spirit a defiant flame. Yet, even he was no match for the dark power of the Seven.

Lying on the cold ground, Meng Yao’s breaths came in ragged gasps. He watched as the Seven rejoiced in their victory, their laughter a cold wind that swept across the ruins, a cruel mockery of their shattered hopes. The Andal forces continued their onslaught, unrestrained and invincible.

In the dim twilight, Meng Yao's eyes held a blend of defiance and acceptance. His dreams of quelling the Andal invasion lay in ruins. The world spiraled into a bottomless abyss; its inhabitants subject to the merciless rule of the Seven.

The vision ended pulling everyone out. There was dead silence for a handful of moments before everyone tried to speak at once.

“Andals?”

“Invaders!”

“A horse lord?”

“Fascinating.”

Eve raised her hand and silence fell like a cloak. “The horse lords are holding the line preventing news of the invaders from reaching most ears. Do not be deceived though, it is only a matter of time before they arrive.”

“What are they aiming for? That almost looked like a migration, not an invasion.” Director Roberts said his eyes incredulous.

“Indeed, they are migrating.” Eve confirmed with a sharp glance. “They have powerful extraplanar assistance.”

“These, Seven?” Director Alice said with a grimace.

“Correct.” Eve said with a nod. “They plan to raise the land bridge that once existed between Westeros and Essos. When that occurs, their destruction is written in the stars. Until then, we need to hold them at bay. You will summon the companies we fund. They will hold the line.”

“Can we even keep those numbers at bay?” Director Morowitz said with a depressed tone.

“Bleed them. Bounty their heads. I do not care if you have to go out and dig ditches. Spend whatever is required to make us too expensive to fight.” Eve said. “Money can always be regained, but the investments I have here are priceless.”

“Your authorizing use of the emergency funding protocols?” Director Robert looked aghast.

“Yes. This will be the bank’s second motto. If it can be solved with silver, it isn’t a problem.” Eve said with a dark smile.