The warmth of the bed and lingering soreness welcomed Veronica's waking. Both were ignored as Veronica threw back the blankets with fresh revelation. A second of groping for the wooden panel above the bed finally produced the needed sensation and, with it, light from the mana lamp above.
"Squawk!" Chattox objected, stretching his wings under the blanket as he fixed his cruel red eyes on her.
The blonde gave him a regretful look as she continued towards the wardrobe. The vision was now in hand: a soft blue dress and black shoes. Last night's divination was laid across the bed before Veronica stripped off her nightgown. The following shower barely lasted a minute, just long enough to lather soap bubbles into her hair and pits, before a dousing. Not content to wait for a towels work, a water spell pulled off any residual drops and threw them into the shower drain.
Eska may have given the desire voice, but Veronica finally admitted to herself that she shared the same need. Femininity had taken a beating during training, nearly died in all the puke and blood of the pit. Slipping into the soft fabric of the bra and light blue dress, some corner of her mind buzzed with joy at being in the proper attire of her sex. Putting on the black shoes and feeling a weight fall off her soul, she made for the door, bidding Chattox to her right shoulder as she did so. The familiar's claws barely pressed into her skin before the door was swung open a bit too forcefully by its occupant.
Taking an immediate left, Veronica shut the door behind her as she power-walked towards the main hallway. When she got to the main hallway of grey floors and wooden walls, a look ahead made her wonder if she had overslept. Eska was already waiting by the board with everyone's keys, idly thumbing a thin green dress that opened just a bit at her collar.
They nodded at each other before leaning against the wall, taking in the lack of demand on their time after having every second of it demanded elsewhere for what felt like eternity. Few walked, most seemingly taking the day off to sleep in. It took several minutes before Veronica turned right to see Eska directing a scowl down the hallway towards the rooms. Turning left, the blonde somehow kept a small groan down her throat as a red leather clad Mia came up to them.
"I'll change after breakfast. Don't want a stain on the dress while we blunder around the mighty, now do we?" The redhead offered, chin raised in defiance.
A comment about how she should have learned to keep stains off her clothes at the wisened old age of twelve was kept down, in part because Eska seemed satisfied with the answer. Now reunited, the trio went to the canteen. Eggs, steak, and potatoes were devoured in their usual spot. Women started trickling in after a few minutes, most wearing dresses and jewels with the two other scions even having their familiars done up in sparkling necklaces and bands around arms or legs. A few had Mia's lacking sense, coming in with the painted leather armor, but Veronica paid them no mind as she finished up her last egg and swig of apple juice.
The trio gave slight nods to each other before leaving their spot and making their way towards the canteen's exit. Taking a step into the main hallway revealed a small crowd was already forming by the elevators. Mia, however, was promptly sent to her room to make herself decent by both her friends. A few minutes later, the caramel redhead was coming down the wide hallway in a red dress who chest and neck was covered by a white fur scarf. The furry addition drew a raised eyebrow from Eska, but nothing more as they joined the others at the elevators.
"What floor is it?" Veronica asked the crowd ambling about.
"Seventy-fifth," A lean blonde leaning on the left wall in a white shirt and green pants said, her large nose sniffling with the words. "But they're sending guides to get us in groups. Don't want too many ambling about all at once."
Veronica gave her a smile and nod before turning to her group. They were already idling near the back elevator, prompting the water scion to join them. Speculation about what was waiting beyond the elevators wafted about the air between loners, groups, and those moving between, thankfully dulling what would have otherwise been souring tempers at having to wait.
Even when the black and gold guides started coming down and calling people's names to bring them up, a palpable agony hung in the air from those not chosen to ascend. For an eternity of ten or so minutes, the trio ambled near the back before one dark-skinned woman in the guides' attire stuck her head of black, curly hair out of an elevator near the middle.
"Veronica, Mia, Eska." She called.
The blonde's heart raced as a smile spread over her face, contrasting with the women she was shoving past. Coming up to the box of glass and steel, the guide gave her a nod as they crossed the threshold. When the door closed, the buttons and handles of the elevator panel was worked by the guide before she turned to the group, her thick lips in a smile.
"Palta has requested you three join her. If you agree, she'll be waiting down the left hallway."
The three nodded, prompting the guide to turn back towards the panel. Nothing but downward tug was felt for nearly a minute before ears popped. Veronica moved her jaw at the sensation, just in time for the elevator to slow. Cinnamon and lavender wafted from the doors before they slid open. When they did, the full force of the spices hit them as the main site of the Convene was revealed.
Directly ahead was an open pavilion with smooth, crème stone walls curving in half ovals down the middle. Inside these walls lay large tables marking where a vendor was displaying their goods, a task that was apparently never too early to start. The ceiling of brown tiles seemed a good twenty feet in the air, certainly enough for Chattox to fly around without worry. Between the inner walls and the walls of the proper building were smaller resting spots comprised of chairs and smaller tables to hold drinks.
Stepping out onto the white marble floor flecked with gold, Veronica spotted a small vase on the right of the elevator entrance floor giving off a small trail of smoke. Turning back towards the section ahead, the opposite end was comprised of a single, wide staircase leading to an unseen floor above.
The precise dimensions of the room were hard to place with so many obstructions, but Veronica wanted to say it was around the size of a small town in sheer space, with only a few dozen residents to be seen. That this town had residents bearing mana crystals, familiars, and mage association insignia somehow made the place even more grand.
"Nice to see you again."
The voice to the left was easily placed. Veronica turned just in time to see Palta walking up to them. She bore a silky blue dress showing a white frill that went around her neck and to the small dip below her collarbone. In times past, black hair would have obstructed it. Now, with the midnight locks barely reaching past the ears, her dress, along with the sharp chin and nose, was left bare for all to see. Her thin, pink lips held a smile, as did the green eyes taking them in.
"I've heard from Lola that you're being considered for the officer roles." The princess put in sweetly as she bobbed her head for them to follow her through the oval walls. "She's not prone to overt praise, from what I've been told. Sounds like you three are destined for the upper side of things."
Mia scoffed while the group moved to start inspecting goods.
"If we survive the climb. How's your training been?"
Palta gave her a grim smile as they came near the first tables.
"Lots of screaming, in addition to fighting demons. I'm expected to give orders as three flank positions are getting their faces torn off and a demon has popped out of the ground to eat me. It's been… awful. Completely and totally.
Mother, Pipkin, and the children are at a conference, working out details around supply obligations while she shows the little ones the art of negotiation. Bessie will learn a lot. Oswald….Will hopefully learn patience. Dad is in some big meeting with the other leaders. World leaders of countries and the three most powerful associations. Not a word of what's behind it, save that the Truth Finders are also attending. That's left me all alone for the first portion of the Convene."
Eska raised an eyebrow at her from the right of Veronica.
"Truth Finders?"
Rather than immediately answer, Palta turned her green eyes on the dozen or so surrounding figures.
"He was just here," She said to no one in particular.
Those green irises finally stopped off to the right on a late-fifties man in a grey coat and white shirt with pants to match. He was mostly balding, with bits of black in the grey thinly covering his scalp. A clean-shaven man, which allowed clear viewing of his thin lips and pronounced cheekbones as his brown eyes perused a table of mana lamps crafted into birds.
"That's Cole," Palta announced, moving towards him with the trio in tow.
He spotted them out of the corner of his eye, a smile sprouting as he turned to the four women coming his way.
"Princess Palta! An honor, and hopefully a pleasure."
"Always, Finder Cole," Palta said, giving him a small smile. "I was telling my fellows about the meeting with my dad when your people came up."
"Fellows?" Cole asked before turning to the trio. He appraised them with a raised eyebrow for a second. "The famed volunteers?"
Veronica felt unease settle in, her skin crawling at the knowledge that others were talking about them out of earshot.
"The very same." Palta continued, "They have never heard of your slice of the Front organization, and I thought who better than you to explain."
"Just me?" He asked with a smile. "The sheer convenience of being present was an afterthought?"
Palta gave him a slight shrug, the ribbing between the two getting smiles from the other three present.
"Well," Cole continued as he ushered the group back from the table and towards the center of the room, "I suppose the thirty years I've been in these white clothes have finally found a purpose.
Yes, I am a member of the Truth Finders. Have you ever been to the Front library?"
A round of head shakes answered.
"Until you do, you'll never fully appreciate our work. The short of it is: We find answers. Not all of them, but the ones we do are beyond reproach. Thus the white."
He emphasized the point with a wave of his hands at his clothes.
"Not a stain or hole, just like our final publications onto those sacred shelves. If you want to know the signs of a grape vine taking on enough magical properties for its fruit to exhibit explosive qualities or the banalities of healing potions grades and mana equivalents to healing magic from a mage, you go to the Front library at the outer edges of the City. Such things have been written about, studied, and then triple-checked by others to a degree most would find intolerable.
The fact that it saved my life is probably the only reason I've put up with the endless examinations and questions. One very bored day, I read about how schools of lightning fish can shoot their bolts of yellow a dozen feet out of the water. Without knowing that, I would have rested near the river along with my party members and met their fate.
That is also how the whole thing keeps going. We help keep mages alive, and those who like being spoken of in the present help us, whether it be with new information or resources. Of course, as members of the Lost Lands expedition, you receive access to the library without a fee."
"We do?" Eska asked, her right eyebrow raised.
"You do," Palta cut in with a smile. "Among other privileges. All of which can be exercised when the training is complete."
"It's a meager gift for what's being demanded of you," Cole offered. His face stopped as he pondered a thought for a moment. "Though, you did offer it willingly. One would think it ought to entitle you to more than the conscripts. I'm sure the royal parents were relieved when they got the news."
"They were. However, it is my father I'm wondering about. He's attending a big meeting with the other kings and association heads. Know anything about it?"
Cole gave a slow nod, his reward being a puckered lip from the princess.
"I've heard of it. Hard to find someone here who hasn't. When the elven king, Toros, is seen attending along with the doomand Ebenor, tongues sprint. Not least because the head of our order was also called to attend. Something not done in living memory, not that the other two are so common. Even the Far Shores sent a representative."
"Doomand?" Mia asked, working the unfamiliar word out of her mouth.
Cole fixed her with a patient smile.
"A dwarven king, they say, but selected by a council instead of birth." He then turned brown eyes towards Palta. "I had hoped to meet you before the big show and see if you had any idea what was going on."
"None." The princess answered, her jaw set and posture now stiffer, "Perhaps the Vanguard has someone we could ask?"
"Nope."
Veronica turned left, her gaze following everyone else's to Lola standing off to the side. Their instructor wore a slim black dress, in contrast to her usual armor. That white hair had golden rings around the top to keep the strands still, metal that matched the small, chain-link necklace whose end dipped below the black fabric. Attire that somehow only emphasized her lean muscle. Palta slightly puckered her lips before smiling, seemingly more interested in answers than rebuking a sudden plunge into their conversation.
"The big lady above is also attending. Not a word from her usual songbirds or the official documentation. Can't say I've ever seen or heard of so many important people at one place before."
Both Palta and Cole nodded in agreement, though the latter still gave a cough.
"Lady Lola."
The plant and fire scion gave him a nod of acknowledgment before turning to the women.
"Whatever is going on, there's still a full day ahead for us lowly folk." Lola continued, working the gold chain around her neck out of her dress. At the end was a leather bag about the size of an apple. When her right hand went into it and kept going, the reason for its presence was explained. Sharp breaths were drawn from Palta and Cole, who leaned forward to take the legendary treasure in.
"Never thought I'd see one." The man cooed.
This simple act also drew the eyes of several passersby. More than one woman in clothes of bright colored silk and a familiar at her side stopped to take in Lola pulling out three bags larger than the one they resided in.
"Your pay and the stipend for the Convene," Lola announced, handing the bags off to the three.
"How much space does it have?" Palta asked, her green eyes still fixed on the space-expanded bag with covetous greed.
"A foot long, eight inches wide, and five and three-fourths inches tall." Lola cooed like a proud mother.
Cole gave a long whistle.
"A great treasure. Must have cost a small warehouse of high-grade magical resources to obtain."
"Just about," Lola admitted, her eyes flinching at the memory of the expense.
Rough calculations willed themselves through the blonde's head. Her dragon bag had the rectangular space of a small wardrobe. That was perhaps five feet tall and three feet wide with a matching length. She hadn't actually measured out the exact dimensions, an oversight that was always one more free day from being resolved. It was obviously a treasure, but even her wildest estimations wouldn't have placed it as being worth…. Math struggled inside her skull as she tried to calculate how many warehouses of magical goods worth she had hiding in her desk. Anything beyond three probably approached the prices none could feasibly pay. Killing for it was another matter.
Taking a mental note to get the drawer a lock, she took the small, jingling bag with a smile.
"About fifty mana coins, done up with the City's tower sigil." Lola mused as she handed off the last one to Mia. "Perhaps we could get some shopping in before they start asking you three questions."
"Oh?" Eska asked, raising an eyebrow at the question.
"Were you not informed of the questioning after this little party?" Cole exclaimed, a small frown on his lips.
Lola furrowed her white eyebrows. It was Palta sucking in her lips that drew the trio's eyes.
"Right." The princess put in with some awkwardness before her green eyes met theirs. "Your time in the Coalition is a subject of great interest. One the Truth Finders and the Vanguard want to hear personally."
"Interest?!" Cole scoffed, sending his thin hair swaying with a head bob. "There was a chance to break barriers in understanding the magical veins in all our bodies, and that club of fools dashed it on the rocks. No one's expecting grand revelation, but if you remember anything, perhaps something with the weather or changes in the states of the food even, do share it with our people."
Curt nods was all the trio gave him.
"In the afternoon." Lola cut in. "The now requires we spend coin, not words."
Her enthused coo drew out the other women's smiles.
"I feel this is where our interests, and coin pouches, must diverge." Cole put in with a warm smile. "As I was earlier informed, a pleasure, as always."
He was treated to polite nods before he turned around and went back to his perusing. The all-female group then headed out for the day's mission. Stalls and tables served the same functions as their mundane market cousins, yet their arrays of magical crafts spewing flames or manipulating water gave them an exotic air those hawking plain breads couldn't quite match. That was without considering the immaculate artistry in the wood and fine silks for the tents over the merchants' goods in the back of their spot. As the perusing reached a fever pitch and late morning sent up more attendees, two distinctions made themselves known:
The first was the fact that at no stall or table was found any product of leather or bone. Given the precious nature of magical resources, no one would waste such items for decoration, leaving the hides to be boiled and worked into dishes and bone ground into powder for sprinkling on proper food. Processes the trio took in with polite smiles and rejecting stomachs.
The second distinction was the lack of guards to be seen among the women and scarce men going over all the magical offerings. Veronica suspected anyone making trouble would find guards suddenly appearing. After half an hour, she suspected another reason. Every merchant and prospecting customer was known by name by the princess, each of whom responded with, at worst, a mechanical politeness.
Rules, unsaid and freed of physical form, seemed to dictate the interactions. Unseen structures the trio had to rely on Palta to lead them through. More than once they had an offer to convey, only for Palta to advise against specific wording. Why, exactly, 'I would like this' was rejected for 'This could be of value' eluded Veronica and Mia, with Eska being the only one to guess a bit of what was expected. What was readily apparent to all three was that reputation, and threats of injury to its person, kept order here rather than law or courts.
None of the inedible items managed to reach the threshold of purchase for the group so far, leaving them to spend some of their mana coins on the nutritious offerings. After inspecting the corner of the market designated for the food stalls, they all settled on skewered meats in fresh bread wraps with lettuce and mustard. Unlike the mundane offerings elsewhere, every ingredient was of magical quality. That meant obsessive detail went into preserving and measuring every last crumb. Every blade of lettuce, speck of wrap bread, and crumble of meat was carefully weighed out. The meat was cooked over a bowl to catch any stray juices, which were poured over the wraps on a plate with a dip in the middle for any stray bits to pool into. Whatever the settings, these were still the ingredients for a mage's ascent, and not one slick of juice or morsel would be wasted. Something Veronica was minding as she carefully took the last bite with the others.
*Ding*
Her jaw stopped mid-chew as she looked for the source of the noise.
"Good day to our illustrious guests," A female voice announced from somewhere above. Figuring it was some kind of wind enchantment in the ceiling tiles, Veronica leaned against the inner wall to listen. "This year's Convene will be comprised of three sections. The time for the agreement announcements, followed by the Lost Lands expeditions' requirements. In a late addition to the itinerary, elven king Toros will be conducting a presentation afterwards. A good day and a good hunt to you all."
Veronica furrowed her eyebrows at the ceiling for a second. When it was clear that the message was finished, she turned left to her two friends. They wore slightly raised eyebrows and mild curiosity as they resumed their meals. A turn right revealed two lifelike statues standing by the wall. Palta was on the left as Lola leaned against the right wall. Both were mid-chew, open mouths and all, when they were struck in place. Even their eyes were wide in numb shock, taking in nothing as the brains behind them were elsewhere.
"Can I assume it's the bit about the elf king?" The water scion asked gently.
A jolt ran through the two women, springing them to life.
"Unprecedented," Lola said softly, the surrounding crowd now giving nothing but whispers. "Toros has been seen less than a dozen times over the millennia. We may very well be the first humans to hear him speak. We've had worse spots than this, so….Why now?"
Palta, in a distinctly uncouth manner, shoved the rest of the wrap in her mouth, took three great chews, and swallowed before slamming the plate onto the food vendor's table.
"I must meet with father. Lola, if you would guide them to the seats."
A nod from the plant and fire scion was all it took for the princess to turn and almost sprint through the still stunned crowd, her silky blue dress billowing all the while. If Veronica had the slightest notion of where to go, she might take offense at being handed over like a toddler. Since she didn't, Veronica and her two fellows stalked behind Lola as she navigated the tables and crowds still ambling about.
It took two minutes for them to round a corner to the right and see the big staircase opposite the elevators. The blonde could only follow as her heart raced, the energy in the air seeping into her. Mages dashed past, one even deployed light air magic to take the staircase three steps at a time. Lola kept them to a restrained power walk as they ascended to a curve in the stairs leading them up to the next floor.
A bare, grey stone wall with two hallways to the left and right greeted them. Lola nodded to the left, leading them under the mana lamps dotting the wooden walls and brown-tiled ceiling. The hallway was a straight shot forward with a red rug in the center for those feet that found wood boards too hard. Thick packs of women, along with the occasional token male, pressed around the various rightward doors allowing access into the inner auditorium.
Lola ignored them all, instead moving her brood past each before they reached a slimmer set of stairs. Another hike and they found themselves on another floor, though this one only allowed a straightforward walk. Again, mages crowded at the various doorways along the right wall. It was at the fifth instance that they finally turned into the crowd. The guard at the door gave Lola one look before placing her spear down between the women trying to get past.
The crowd parted in surprise, allowing just enough room for the four to pass through. Several mean looks or cold faces made the crowd's opinion of this favoritism known, none of which ever rose to an official objection. A small nod from the white-haired woman and they were through.
Ahead was a wooden railing with the heads of various beasts worked into the wooden posts holding up the guarding planks. They ringed around a huge open space at the bottom of which lay an octagon of smooth, grey stone surrounded by wood floor. Around it lay tables and chairs, with the sides of the tables facing the stone left bare to allow clear sight of whatever subject would be in the center. Beyond the furniture were grey stone walls about a dozen feet high and various wooden doors scattered about. Above that wall were layers of seats and railing for those spectating the events below, all illuminated by a carriage-sized sphere of crystal in the black ceiling giving off a mana lamp's characteristic golden glow.
Lola pointed to the left. Veronica followed the gesture to see the rows of seats already being filled. Space was important, but everyone in attendance was still a mage. That meant the individual seats on the rising stone floors, even if they were close together, came with soft-blue cushioning on the backs and seats. Around the occupied seats, servants were offering trays of lemon water, tea, and small pastries or crackers to accompany.
The trio followed their guide towards their apparently designated area. On the backs of the approaching seats at the front were the numbers one hundred and fifty-three through one hundred and fifty-eight. Whether put up for their group or by the snatching of chairs in the usual arrangement, these five seats were fixed with small wooden walls around their sides and along the back, not tall enough to block others' view, but just enough to give the illusion of privacy. Mia took up the first chair, then Eska, followed by Veronica. Lola went past the next chair and sat at the last one, leaving an empty seat between her and the blonde.
Time ambled on, helped only by meager snacks as the auditorium filled. The water scion's blue eyes took in the crowd as she and Chattox munched on crackers with pungent cheese. Almost every seat was taken, with the last few being quickly run into by one eager member or another, yet her ears barely registered any voices above the usual volume of crowd noise. Only the few women walking past or behind their walled-off section could be heard in their exchanges, all of which showed an eagerness for the coming show. After all, if the elf king brought ill news, they wouldn't be the ones sent to the Lost Lands to correct it. Save the two passersby Veronica recognized from the group's training, of course.
*Ding*
Eska and Mia adjusted themselves in the seat, pulled out of that existence between sleep and wakefulness. Lola merely crossed her legs and arms, ready to take in whatever awaited them.
"Our honored guests, thank you for attending the Convene. Whether as a supplier or buyer, your efforts help push all of humanity forward." A smooth female voice from the ceiling announced. "As mentioned previously, this year will be comprised of three sections. To start off the first, the leaders of the nations we all call home will sit in attendance."
Odd grumblings wafted over the thin wooden walls, but nothing louder when the doors opened. The angle of the seats meant Veronica couldn't see the doors open on her side, only the small troop of dwarves coming out of them. They wore plates of black with chainmail between. Their backs bore axes while their faces were obscured by a helmet that had the roundness of a pot and sharp horns of glistening steel along the sides to keep the comparison at bay.
Save the one in the middle, who bore a wide grin that was unobstructed by thick shoulder pads or helmet. A single large braid of black ran down his back and over an orange cape, complete with gold bands dotted with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Even at this distance, his black beard had an oily sheen that caught the golden light falling from above.
On the left walked out the adults of the Rodring royal family, done up in dresses and suits of purple and gold trim. Whatever had transpired, Palta was now in the middle of her parents, a defiant look in her green eyes. A gaze that fixed on the opposite end of the octagon.
From the right doors came the three Bodding Empire representatives. The bitter brother of the Rodring kingdom selected women wearing red robes with yellow, horizontal stripes. Unseen steps glided them across the wood floor to the seats at their table. Since the hoods of their robes were pulled down, their clouds of puffy, black hair were on full display. Combined with the midnight skin, they flaunted their features' similarity to the famed ultimate mage founder, as people of the Bodding Empire were so fond of doing.
Between them and the dwarves came the representatives of the fairy kingdom. Four squat figures in blue robes that contrasted with grey skin moved forward, their heads of pink lettuce bouncing and the bits of rainbow colors about their skin hard to see at this distance, though their wide mouths and slitted noses were more discernible.
Then the doors opposite Veronica's spot opened. A single lone figure walked out, clad in a simple green robe and top half sporting a green leather vest over her chest. Grace could be found in every move of their legs and arms, even in the way her long, silvery hair barely shifted as she approached the table. Her eyes and facial features were too far away to distinguish, though the sharp ears protruding from the hair were easily spotted.
Once she was in her seat, a round of nods from the attendees finally got the show going. Jeremy pulled a wooden pole about a foot long out of his purple robe before placing the circle at its top up to his mouth. Nestel pulled a page out from her dress and placed it in front of him, her light silver hair showing the momentum the elves' hair refused. Taking a deep breath above the circle, the king's right index finger thumbed a white square on its side.
"The Rodring kingdom, for the next year until Necrosis should meet its end, allow the Fire Fiends the use of the Shallow Bend pastures at a tax rate of three percent." Jeremy's voice boomed around the stadium. "The Grower's association will be committed to growing the following vegetables and grain for the year at the following measurements. Carrots at-"
Veronica mentally fell out of the conversation. This was not the unprecedented announcement of a legendary figure, but the dull, vital machinery of life. Even the dwarves, as enigmatic and hidden from view as they tended to be, spouted off various tariff figures before allowing the faeries their turn. The empty tables, their occupants either absent or objects given for traditions not apparent, were treated as nonexistent for the meeting's purpose despite the care of their placement. It was the elves that went last, whose entire session was a simple nod with no accompanying words.
"That concludes the Convene portion of our day." The female voice announced above. "Now, please welcome the head of the Vanguard, Gaira Rose."
With that, all those at the tables looked towards the right-upper corner of the wall where another door lay. A solid second passed before it opened and a mid-to-late-fifties woman in a black coat and pants walked through. She bore short, grey hair and a sharp nose, features the two human skulls on her shoulders couldn't display. Her brown eyes went to the octagon, sparing not a look for anyone or anything in her path save for a rub of the glistening crow on her right shoulder.
Slipping between the elves' table and an empty one, she strode up to the center of the grey stone octagon, her thin frame unyielding under the weight of the thousand gazes bearing down on her. Gaira's chest swelled with a deep breath before she reached inside her coat. After a moment, a stick with a circle at the end was produced. Another breath and the circle of wood was brought up to her lips.
"The acquisition meeting is henceforth canceled. All training for those going into the Lost Lands will be relegated to physical exercise and nighttime ambush until a decision on coming changes is reached, if it is required at all. Needed supplies and manpower will be determined at a later time or taken under the protections mandate should the situation demand it."
Her short time at its end, the head of the Vanguard turned around and back to the door that she had come through. Those at the tables nodded to her as she passed, not a trace of emotion on their faces. A single sigh of relief reached Veronica's ears from somewhere behind their wall, barely loud enough to be heard over the sudden flurry of whispers. The trio looked leftward towards Lola, who gave them a helpless shrug before turning her green and amber eyes towards the octagon below.
"Yes-"
A pregnant void of sound pressed for a second before the announcer collected themselves.
"Thank you, Gaira Rose, head of the Vanguard, for the announcement."
For the blink of an eye, the world held its breath.
"Now, for the main event, which I'm sure you all have been so eager to see. Allow me the honor of introducing the father of Akash, the unbroken trunk, first of his name, and leader of all of his kind: Toros Malenheart, the King of the Elves."
Out of the door to the upper left came two long poles of green, which were immediately hoisted into the air. At their tops were green flags, showing a tree in the middle battered by fire on the left and giant waves on the right. This flag was displayed the highest among the ensuing forest of its brothers, standing tall over flags of other trees, birds, and rivers, all held by one of the legendary elves, each surrounded by others of their kind in fine green, blue, and purple robes over immaculate shirts and pants.
Their entrance showed grace, their perfect skin and faces displayed beauty beyond compare, and the weapons at their sides promised death coming as surely as the sun. At the center of the small procession was the figure who had stirred so much interest. He wore a flowing red robe that had golden trees emblazoned across the chest. Atop his head of immaculate blonde hair rested a golden crown with sharp stag horns evenly placed around the ring, each tipped in a jewel of perfect clarity. Toros sported a face free of age, similar to that of a doll, though a small smile hung above his strong chin while a sharp nose rested between soft cheekbones.
Those eyes of changing gold, purples, and onyx did not deign to look at those sitting at the tables he walked near, much less the crowd. When the front end of the procession got near the closest table, they stopped even as their king kept moving forward. Toros abandoned his place between the two largest flagpoles and strode past the Rodring royal family. Each step was a perfect movement of cloth on wood, then stone, yet clearly heard in the dead silence currently filling the room. When Toros finally came to the center of the octagon, he closed his eyes, took a breath, then released it. Only then did he deign to raise his head and recognize the crowd.
"For untold millennia," His voice boomed without the aid of a craft. "The world has endured a cancer. Human, fairy, dwarf, enten. Even we elves have been made to endure its sting. When we fled the Lost Lands into the Central Continent, leaving behind all we knew in a desperate march for salvation, we carried with us a mission to return and pry what was ours from demon hands. Over time, the mission became a dream; then the dream became an idle notion of fancy, no more serious than any work of fiction.
But the degradation did not stop there. Now, taking our homes back merits not even that. I have watched as mere survival replaced conquest; holding against the tide became the goal rather than turning it back.
NO MORE!"
The sudden yell made everyone jolt in their seats, yet all were too enraptured to object.
"The monsters will be put to rest, and the Lost Lands will be lost no more."
Toros took a deep breath, then raised his arms into the air with a wide swing.
"For ages, I have toiled with our greatest minds, workers of magical craft, and scholars. Fruit that has now ripened. By its sweet juice, we will have not only our salvation, but our victory over the demon hordes."
His right hand flew to one of the elves that had been at his side. She ran forward, elven grace making it look like a rehearsed dance as she presented a long sword of pure mana crystal. Toros took its offered handle with his right hand. What exactly was being offered didn't present itself to Veronica or any of the other spectators from what she saw. It didn't help that Toros placed the flat of the blade on his left palm as his eyes of shifting colors covetously took it in. This continued for a second before he finally hefted it into the air.
Pointing its tip skyward, he moved his barely seen index finger to an unseen spot on the sword's guard. The blade was instantly covered in flame, the mass of orange shooting upward almost twice as tall as the craft it sprouted from.
Utterly unremarkable by all accounts.
Then Jeremy stood up from his seat, as did the doomand of the dwarves, and the middle woman in the Bodding trio. All three sucked in mana before raising their hands. Out of the men's palms came storms of hot air while a cloud of mist materialized in a thin cylinder, all rushing towards the elf king and his flaming sword.
In the next moment, the world that existed before the Convene blew apart. The new world's first greeting was the ice that filled Veronica's veins.
The flame held, defying all understanding. More than that, the craft sword seemed to eat its attackers, sending its flame ever higher and jets of lightning out of the sides of its guard. After almost half a minute of bombardment, long enough for any notions of this being some trickery of excess mana batteries to perish, the three finally stopped their magic assault and sat back down before the elf king turned off his sword's enchantments.
Toros stood regal as the crowd exploded into a frenzy, forgetting all previous conventions of politeness. None spared a glance for the water scion whose breathing had since stopped. Veronica's mind was not here; instead, it was out on a grassy hill, overlooking a battle between frojan and humans. If that hadn't been the first time she had seen crafts of this ability, the blonde would be more mentally present. She was, however, aware enough to check on her fellows.
A turn right revealed Eska rising from her chair. The look of fury and clenched fists said she was about to glide down to the elf king and attack him. Veronica didn't think she was so foolish as to do that, but taking that risk was another matter. She grabbed the wind mage's left arm while sending a spirit connection to her thigh.
'We'll talk about this after.' Veronica stated patiently.
Eska stood still for a second before sitting back down, logic finally overcoming rage. The wind mage's face was stone, which was as good as could be expected. Looking past her, the water scion saw Mia, mouth open and brown eyes wide. Also an appropriate reaction.
'Watch Mia.' Veronica said before cutting the spirit connection.
A quick look leftward showed Lola frozen, her gaze transfixed on the elf king. All being as it should be, Veronica turned back to the show.
Toros was still, mana crystal sword now resting in his hands like a cradled babe. The noise of the crowd was slowly dying down, now barely registering over the surge of adrenaline and pounding in Veronica's ears. A few more seconds passed before Toros took another deep breath.
"For those with the wisdom to doubt your eyes, I will defer to the head of the Truth Finders."
His gaze then slid to the door that his procession had come from. The door was already open to allow an elderly woman in a white shirt, pants, and cape to step through itt. Her bob of grey hair swayed with the march up to the spot between the elf king's heraldry. Her sharp chin went downward as a stick with a wooden circle was produced from her pants pocket and brought to her lips.
"After extensive testing, I, as head of the Truth Finders of the Front and of working mind, will attest to the following two facts both from personal observation and the judgment of those in good standing with my order:
First, these elven crafts can sustain their enchantments under the barrage of eight scions pushing to their limits using the mana equivalent of a three-foot by four-foot block of mana crystal. Any more than that, and there is a three-fifths of a second dead time before it resumes operation in a sporadic manner.
The second is that these work fully with the demon's mana, bypassing the usual smothering suffered from that mana and mage spells. They suffer damage from the use of demon mana, in the same way mages do. The elves have provided crafts of what they describe as a simple design, and these lasted for fifty-three uses. One of what was described as a sturdier design lasted for two hundred and thirty-six.
These facts and observations will be included in a preliminary report that, while unfinished, will be released to the wider public in contravention of best standards and processes. The Council of Facts has made their objection known, and I have countermanded them."
At the last word, she gave a slight bow and turned back around. At her last step through the door, it was closed with a weighty smack far heavier than its dimensions would suggest. Toros then swung his miracle of magic in a twirl, pulling the crowd back to him.
"These crafts will be the sword that cuts down the foe, the shield that stops its claws, and the healing that will mend its labor. We cannot guarantee that we will stroll through the murderous hordes like a garden, but the days of fear, of wondering when Boddings' greatest working would finally fall and all our throats would be torn, those days are gone. Through the power and ingenuity of my people and my vision for possibility, the world can now rest easier in our protection."
That last bit stung in Veronica's mind, like a threat too subtle to merit being called so, yet….
It was clear that, after today, the elves were the masters of the world, if they hadn't already obtained the title. The way Toros gave an almost mocking bow before turning back to his people made it clear this entire meeting was moving at his direction. This set off an explosion of chatter through the onlookers to fill wherever silence had been previously resting.
"I need to be somewhere," Lola announced as she shot out of her chair. "I trust you to find your way home."
At the last word, she shot off to the left, practically unnoticed by the trio. The ensuing ding and noise from the announcer was likewise ignored in favor of staring at the source of so much pain. Toros sauntered back towards the exit in the middle of his pack, king of the elves and now probably the world at large. Judging by the carefully crafted smile, he knew the latter to be true. Not sparing the crowd he had whipped into a frenzy even a passing glance, he went through the door and disappeared from view.
As the last of the elves shuffled out, Veronica turned right to see her two friends staring at her with eyes showing murderous intent. Going over what she had seen, this was probably the closest thing to privacy the three were likely to get. The blonde adjusted herself to sit at the edge of her seat while facing the other two, a motion Mia mimicked while Eska pulled back to lean against the back of her chair, her arms crossed as her brown eyes stared blankly ahead. Veronica sent out a spirit connection to the other two before feeling two others on her left shoulder.
'On that night, are we absolutely sure we saw-'
'It came from Eli!' Eska yelled in the connection, brown eyes wide and voice hoarse despite the lack of strain on the throat.
She was given three careful stares from her companions and Chattox.
'You know it!' Eska spat out, their hesitance only goading more venom into her words. 'There's no way…. An ultimate mage with ability in crafting shows up, and a few months later the elves have this….technique…. Power, whatever! All after they killed him on that road, after they failed in his own tower. The elves took this from him and killed him to hide it. This must be what he was working on for all those long hours alone! This is it!'
Her lips drew blood with her snarling bite on them.
Veronica sucked in her mouth, taking in the accusation as she pulled a napkin from her pocket before handing it to Eska.
'But…." Mia struggled for a second. 'Shouldn't the dwarves have it if this came from Eli? They were the ones he was always hanging around. He sent his wife to them when the government was possibly going to kill her and visited them for days. If this came from Eli, wouldn't they also have it since they were the ones he needed to keep his love alive?'
Eska puckered red lips, even as she worked the napkin over them.
'The attack on the tower. They must have gotten their hands on some design or material that makes this possible. Snuck it out or memorized it before Eli sent them off to bury their dead.'
Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.
'Would he be so careless? Letting them go after possibly compromising something this important seems-.'
'The point is,' Mia cut in, irritation coming clear through. 'If this was from Eli, surely the dwarves would have it as well. He had every reason to get on their good side and to prove his worth for asylum if he was fleeing the Coalition. And if they did have it, there is no possible circumstance where they would let the elves charge ahead like this, especially when they would have the quad mage helping them to make more.'
Two pairs of brown eyes slid to Veronica, clearly asking for an opinion. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts for a few seconds.
'Whatever we know or don't know, the quad mage with ultimate magic and an incredible talent for crafting appearing around the same time as this and the two being unrelated asks too much of my faith in chance, to say nothing of the history between the two groups. More importantly, it doesn't change their guilt in events. They have it, they gave it to orc and frojan allies to kill Eli, and we need to figure out how to deal with those facts.'
Brown eyes faltered for a moment before Eska's narrowed.
'If we get downstairs now, I'm sure we could manage a charge at him. Who knows, maybe we'll be lucky and get him in the throat.'
The blonde's shoulders raised a bit, but she forced any needling comments down.
'And if the truth of what actually happened should die with us?' Veronica asked, raising her chin as she met those bloodthirsty eyes.
That cooled off Eska's outward fury as the woman visibly deflated. Not extinguished, but Veronica felt an opportunity to press forward on the important bit.
'What we know could be vital in the future. We're the only ones who know the elves employ orcs, to the point of giving them these legendary weapons. Should there come a point where the green menace is pressing us, or our people want to find out how these weapons function, the orcs working with elves and these weapons having something to do with all the elements, like space expanded bags, are bits of knowledge that need to be preserved.'
'Well,' Mia offered with clear reluctance. 'We could get that information out now.'
Veronica gave a small smile. Right now, the air was bitter, and the world tasted rotten. Despite that, it was sweeter than what was offered in the grave.
'Maybe we could send the information out in the case of our deaths in the Lost Lands.' The blonde offered.
Two pairs of puckered lips and hesitant eyes were sent her way.
'I know you didn't want to do it earlier, back when the point was making trouble for the Coalition and getting guilt off our necks, but this is different. What we know about what really happened that day could do actual good. It might very well keep our entire species out from under the elves' boot, in case you forgot about their promise to protect us.'
Eska sat still, staring directly ahead while Mia bobbed her head back and forth. When the redhead stopped and fixed her fellow with a polite stare, Eska finally rolled her eyes.
'Fine, but we make it contingent on all of us getting killed. Those who survive get to decide on releasing it.'
Nods went all around. Their discussion finished; they all sat back in their chairs. Memories and ghosts kept them company as the world passed by. A few minutes or hours later, growling stomachs finally pushed them out of their seats. Veronica looked around the now mostly empty arena. Here and there were a few groups, still discussing what had occurred on the octagon below. All the sounds were muted; even the ding of the announcer above couldn't break the mental barrier to be registered. The world felt compressed as her head swayed like the ground was shifting despite her feet being firm on the stone.
The trio trekked back to the open entrance they had come through, walking past guards too busy discussing the elf king's announcement to stand sentry. Going down the stairs and back into the market, things remained as they had upstairs. None of the merchants had their goods on display, not just from the embarrassment of being compared to the miracle, but to Veronica's eye, they just couldn't be bothered.
Coin remained in purses, eyes fixed on each other rather than goods, and every member of the Vanguard and Truth Finders had a small crowd around them demanding these troops tell them what their generals knew. The three had nothing on them to identify them as being members of any of those organizations, allowing them to work their way out of the Convene with light heads and empty stomachs.
What was also apparent was that their guides hadn't been told what to do. The women in black and gold ambled around the elevators as others Veronica recognized from training crowded around the steel doors. Already feeling a foul mood push through the numbness, Veronica went up to a black-haired guide leaning on a wall to the left of the elevators.
"What's going on? Can we at least go back to our rooms or at least get something to eat?"
A shrug was the first answer, even as green eyes met hers.
"Anyone who can make any decisions has been pulled into a conference about what we all saw. I'm sure you're all going to be given the day off, probably the next one too, save some exercise."
"Really?" An unseen woman in the crowd to the right demanded.
Another helpless shrug sent the human skull on her right shoulder against the crème colored stone wall.
"Well, everything we were going to teach you might very well be put in the trash pile. Dealing with demons might be put alongside taking out a rat infestation soon."
Her green eyes then went skyward, ambling off into memory.
Minutes of twiddling thumbs and reliving that night running away from the caravan suddenly stopped when the surrounding women started getting into the elevators. An announcement had apparently been made or word sent. However the information had come, Veronica paid the world no attention as she moved to wait by the elevators, save for the three other beings in it she held most dear.
When they finally walked into the furnished cage, a ball of rage dropped into her stomach. Eli invented this miracle, for the betterment of all just like all the others he gave the mundane and magic people. And the elves took it off his corpse after doing the deed. What else could he have made? What wonders could the world have enjoyed if not for their selfishness? Theirs and the Coalitions. The whole lot of them should be hunted down and expunged like the diseases they were.
Coming onto the lower level where the canteen and their rooms lay, tears of shame had to be fought back. Was she any less selfish than them? Did she not act in her own interest when the time came, damn the wider consequences?
Black rage and self-loathing took their turns in her skull, barely kept low enough that Chattox wouldn't react. A meal and drink were had, with no accompanying taste or recognition save its end signaling the final demand of the day. Walking down the hallway past the elevators, as Veronica moved between her two girls, she made the last decision of the day. Both Mia on the left and Eska on the right were surprised when the blonde took them in a hug before leaning into it.
Nothing was said for the last few steps before room assignment demanded their parting. They waved hands and gave heavy smiles until Veronica took the fateful corner and was left alone with her familiar in the hallway holding her door. She power-walked up to it, gripped the door handle, and ran in with a slam of wood on stone.
No bathing or care was performed, save the use of the latrine, before Veronica threw herself into the bed, its lifeless grey blankets comforting in its lack of cheer. Blue eyes stared at the wall for a minute or hour more before their eyelids started falling. Not able to decide if she would dread having to deal with a nighttime raid or relish the possibility of putting someone's head through a door, she welcomed the approaching end, feeling nothing but the softness of love from her familiar's connection, which saw her to the lands beyond.