Icarus Awakens

Silora collapsed in her Focus chamber when it was clear the danger had passed. She had seen so much. Too much. “Fate, are you well?” the slightly rasping voice of the dusker who was her new assistant called to her. Still too new to feel comfortable calling her by her name, or for Silora to break through exhaustion and remember hers.

She didn’t respond. The past two hours had been the longest consecutive time Silora had maintained Far Sight on another region by a large margin. It wasn’t a feat she could reproduce anytime soon as the credit was due to the pile of empty bottles lying by one of the side tables. They’d all contained mana potions fed to her at regular intervals. Well, one or two were wine glasses. It had been an extremely stressful viewing.

Was her prize unharmed? She’d spent almost three potions worth on abilities when the dreadful trap had been unveiled, although Silora wasn’t sure if it had been worth the effort. She wanted to keep viewing, make sure he was alright, but exhaustion had finally caught up to her. Even with another mana potion, she couldn’t mentally concentrate well enough to make use of her magic.

“Fate!”

“I’m fine,” Silora groaned from where she lay. Her assistant was, of course, useless. The poor girl was a normal, although only a fool would discount the natural strength of a dusker. Why they thought she of all people would make a good replacement for Rait was beyond Silora.

“What happened?”

“Ugh, give me a moment.” Silora searched for a name for a second, then gave up and let the sentence end awkwardly. “I’m too dried out for this.”

“If it is a Cleric you need, one can be called for. However, I request an immediate answer,” a third voice archly intoned. It wasn’t just the two of them in the room. Every place one could sit in Silora’s Focus room was occupied, except for the floor. No one in attendance would stoop that low.

“Lord Aucrest,” she wheezed. “It would be easier if you just asked what you want to know.”

“Did they survive? And what of these unusual monsters?”

“Dead,” she coughed, finally dragging herself out of the fully reclining position and adjusting the contraption in the center to make it so she could see more than the ceiling. There was a very worried look being shared by some in the room. Really? Oh, they thought she’d meant the survivors. “The mortals survived. The dragon and what came out of it are dead.”

The Lord who’d spoken to her looked on with impatience as she spoke slowly. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get on their nerves, not this time, but the day and now, night’s work had been extremely tiresome. “I see. But the third, this bird creature?”

“Still alive, but it won’t be if it doesn’t retreat.”

“Hmm. Shame, though I doubt they’d think to bring it here alive for study,” one further in the back commented. “I don’t suppose you could attempt to message them?”

Silora wheezed dustily instead of laughing as she intended. “I can barely speak.”

“Ah, wind-cursed ash.”

“Who survived?” Aucrest asked, regaining control of the situation. He didn’t move, but his authority loomed over Silora as he threw more into his voice. “And were there any unique displays of powers you can report?”

It was fortunate that exhaustion prevented Silora from immediately giving it away. Of course there had been. He had taken part of the fight himself, though his unique talent hadn’t been on display. But, there had also been quite a few strange mortals worthy of note who’d revealed themselves. Should she report them and leave out the brightest of pearls in their midst? No. As much as her people were derived from them, the true sharks swam around her now. Give them any scent of blood and they’d ruthlessly inspect the entire batch of survivors in case there were other gems she’d missed. As absurd as it would sound to a layperson like her new assistant, talent scouting was one of her most valuable contributions to the region.

“Silora?” There was a warning tone in the voice now.

“The fledging Commander survived with grevious injury, I think. No one special,” she lied. “If there was someone like that, they might not have lost the majority of their number.” It was a lie she could only tell because of the very basic retelling of the battle she’d given as it was happening. No mention of lightning rods or magical items out of the ordinary, for example. She was mindful of what mentioning them could do to the appetites of the ones around her.

They all had a hungry look in their eyes. The people on the streets wouldn’t know it, but the recent death of a Lord had thrown the political backdrop into a frenzy. Fredreick had been important and had been unable to create an heir. A physical issue, it had been rumored. The fate of his holdings and, to a larger sense, the city and region itself were put into question as his slayer had somehow made sure revival was impossible.

Mark. He’d gotten away and had even left Silora alone. True to his prediction his part and hers in the assassination had come out. There’d been consequences, of course. The balance Silora had carefully maintained was now very, very precarious. The identity of who hired Mark was still unknown and the true mastermind could be enjoying the contents of her wine cabinet at this very moment.

Of course they would be. Who other than a monster would come into my home and ‘requisition’ my things, she thought bitterly. If only that helped narrow the list of suspects. But her position was precarious indeed, and she couldn’t afford to comment on it. Survive the storm that now engulfed the city, and focus on making her great escape.

“My lady, do you need a Cleric?”

Damn, who is she? Maybe it was just the exhaustion, but Silora’s memory was half of her job. As much as she detested it. It shouldn’t be this hard to remember. Chyla? Shyla? Something like that. Silora knew it started similarly to her name, but it was so exotic how could she be expected to remember? “I’ll be fine, just-”

Silora stopped herself from asking to be brought to her bed. No, not yet. The others were departing from the room now that it was clear she was tapped. Most were hurrying to see to their neglected business. No, wait, Silora thought. They’re going to avoid the murderer among them. Not even they know! If she could, she would have sniffed. Or they’re going to their whores.

Either way, Silora would soon have the room to herself. However, the adjoining room, her lounge, was currently overrun with those individuals who hadn’t entirely left her abode. They were using the space as a parlor, the nerve! But, and this was important, they were still within what was technically her property. Groups were speaking in hushed whispers, confident the voices weren’t carrying to the nearly dead Fate. She had some mana left. Careful misrepresentation of how much resources her powers used over the years had left Silora with a surplus on normal days. It was hard to keep things consistent, but who could challenge her? The civic authorities had no idea how all of that worked, and where would they find a contemporary to consult with? She was the region’s only Fate!

Silora had a little bit of mana left. Not much, and the pounding headache meant she could do little with it, but using Farsight across such laughable distances as the next room over was a task she may not even need her throne for. “Let me rest a moment. See to our guests,” she told the dusker who might be named Shiala, taking care to keep the scorn internal. “I will call when I am recovered enough to move.”

The dusker gazed at her from behind its outer shell and didn’t seem to read too far into the dramatic swoon Silora added towards the end. The girl generally did what was asked without paying too much attention to theatrics. Reliable but boring, and probably a spy. Shame. “If that is your wish.” The voice clicked for a moment in the custom of the race before she turned to leave. Just like that, Silora was alone. Rait would have turned the request into a short sparring match as he insisted she return to bed. If Silora was honest, he could have persuaded her. Why had she been so irritated with him back when he was her assistant? Oh, yes, the arguing, but at least he had spirit!

No matter. Silora closed her eyes to feign sleep and carefully rotated her throne to face the parlor. She only needed to turn the hidden gears by a few notches, but if someone saw what she was doing they’d know in an instant. It was accomplished with little notice, the remaining officials and their orbiting staff more concerned with themselves than what they only considered a public utility. Extending her senses, Silora honed in on one of the conversations.

This too was unnoticed, though only because her presence was already saturating the area. A consequence of the Focus chamber she was in. The only reason Lord Fredreick had been ignorant of her sight was that the man had been indisposed at that moment and without his protections. It was the late official’s contemporary, Lord Aucrest, speaking when the words came to her.

“-refugees we can expect. If Silora is to be trusted, hundreds may be making their way here and at such an inopportune time.” The man, an avianoid covered in silver feathers no one would dare call gray, stood as the heart of his group. Not just a Lord, but a leader of one of the factions. A member of the Council. One who, over the past decade, had made some very major moves in the city. Aucrest Seliri, known as the Silver Eye after political enemies of his managed to get the unoriginal nickname to stick.

“Feh, I don’t stake much on her words. She’s hiding something, that much is clear.” A second voice, the one that had been concerned about capturing specimens. A wide-eyed avianoid shorter than Aucrest. Still a Lord, if barely. “Good taste in wine, but poor taste in truth if you ask me.”

“Yes, well, Shavi can be expected to be familiar with fluids.” Both Silora and Aucrest furrowed their eyebrows at the third man’s attempt at boorish humor. He was the human in the group. Also, the idiot. “I agree. Definitively evasive on special subjects. Lying though? What would she have to gain?”

“Silora is, hmm,” Aucrest lowered his voice, just in case. “A very difficult woman to work with. Practically one of us the way she schemes. I often hear my contemporaries on the Council wonder if we should execute her exit clause whenever they are annoyed with her.”

It was like she’d been tossed in an ice bath, though, actually, that would have done something to soothe her dry scales. Silora was chilled either way by the implication. “Are you sure Aucrest, we- ahem, thank you, we are satisfied with our current beverages,” the second Lord, Lawrence was his name, waved off her assistant as she came close. All three waited a moment before he continued, “Are you sure Aughal can tolerate that? Given the current unrest-”

“If there’s one thing I believe, it’s that she didn’t know who hired the Assassin,” Aucrest interrupted. “Which means she’s an idiot or a coward. She was probably threatened, which means she can be threatened again. In truth, I’m averse to the consequences of seeking out another Fate. If I had been there when her contract had been signed I would have argued against making the terms so aggressive. This city has lost too many rare classes by trying to entrap them. Remember, we still haven’t found whoever received the Assassin class after we dealt with the last one.” A small note of anger entered Silver Eye’s voice, and Silora knew exactly why.

“Ah! Better we have her watched then?” the third asked, suddenly nervous. He pointed at… Skylark? No, that definitely wasn’t it. “Is she one of ours?”

“No.” Silora sighed with relief. “Probably one of the other factions. Ytaya is the obvious guess. Unless any of you arranged for her to be here?” Aucrest dashed Silora’s hopes and continued. “Consider, however, that we have chased the Assassin out of the city. I would have preferred him dead but you can’t have everything. Especially when it comes to killing someone of his level. I doubt there’s anyone else here at this moment that could do what he did.”

“The walls,” the third man Silora was mostly unfamiliar with shuddered. “I saw the room after. What kind of power could do that?”

“Assassins, Eddor. They aren’t called that because they kill gently. In any case, so long as we guard ourselves well in this transitory period, we should be fine.”

“Ah but it is so inconvenient,” Lawrence complained. “Not the coin, of course, but having so many people aware of where I’m going and at what times. Even if they aren’t blatantly traitorous, at least a handful are selling the information I’m sure! Just the other day I was going to the auction house when-”

“Enough.” Aucrest held up a hand. He was the more serious of the three, which probably came from his age. Silora knew the avianoids could also be hawkish at times, but didn’t put too much stock into those kinds of observations. “We do not interfere with our resident Fate at the moment. Any objections?” There were none, to Silora’s relief. This time, Aucrest didn’t immediately reverse that either. “Well, we’ve stayed here long enough. One last matter of business.”

“Assuring we have access to any samples they bring?” Lawrence asked hopefully.

“No!” The annoyance in Aucrest’s voice made it carry to the two other groups in her lounge, representatives of the other factions. Having a reminder of their presence made the man hesitate, but only briefly. “I’m putting in a request for the city to monitor the approach of the survivors. Even if I didn’t someone else would, so I’m not showing our hand.”

“I could have my trackers put a track on them if that’s where you’re going.”

“No, Eddor. Most of these people have been in that ditch generously called a region for a decade now. They might have forgotten some of the rumors that others spread about our city. It wouldn’t be good to give them a reason to remember them.”

“But you still want to investigate them? I suppose they’ll be coming here either way.” Lawrence and Aucrest smiled while Eddor tried to follow along.

“I doubt there are any rare classes amongst them, but by all accounts, Eido was destroyed. With that went any records of promising individuals advancing within the region. Every one of those with a class coming out of the Thormundz should be considered a diamond in the rough until proven otherwise. We’ll receive the normal fare sorting through them, but-” Aucrest held up a talon and leaned in, the other two doing the same, “We should also consider the selective effect of what they’ve been through.”

“The cream rises to the top!” Eddor whispered excitedly, finally getting it.

“Just so. I have no doubts the others are thinking the same and I’m worried about what they’ll do to find promising candidates.” All three looked to the groups discussing around them, unaware that they’d been glanced at as well from time to time. “We must consider the future of Aughal, gentleman. Better to make a fair approach on our terms than let someone like Claret get her hooks in them.”

“Well then, let us depart immediately! What if the others have already put plans into place?”

The three lords left, attendants in tow. Silora’s own started rushing the others out as the Fate shifted her attention. She heard mostly the same, which was immensely worrying. Even if they didn’t know who exactly she was protecting, they were keen on searching each and everyone coming out of the region. Should she cut her losses and report what she’d found?

Silora denied that impulse with a glance towards her ravaged wine cabinet. There were scant dregs left with little chance of replenishment. They hadn’t even needed to take her things, they were rich enough to have refreshments brought here! But that was the nature of this city, and she wanted out. She’d just need to think about it! If she had to agree with Aucrest on one thing, it was that she was as conniving as any of them. With the right moves, Silora was confident she could weasel her way out of the contract and get out of this damned city.

“S…” Silora paused, thinking hard. “Sctai?” The dusker turned her head in acknowledgment. Of course, that was it. The bug people had the weirdest names. “I’m ready.”