Chương 170: Ruffled Feathers

Emma I grinned. I couldn't help it. After an entire week of crossing a whole kingdom in a suit of armor sealed off from the living world, surviving death-defying encounters, facing unexpected developments, and finally wrapping it all up in more existential crises than I could count… I needed some goofy whimsy back in my life. I required something to ground myself lest I risk the last vestiges of my sanity taking off into the stars like Jebediah Herman's ill-fated flight.

So when Thacea had started de-escalating the conversation, I took it as a sign to finally pull off my stunt. And what better card to play than the oldest jab in the book? A good old-fashioned bait and switch that would've otherwise been ill-advised to pull in front of Ilunor… for obvious reasons. It wasn't like I didn't trust the deluxe kobold… but there were a few limits to what could be put out there in front of him. This particular development being one such limit.

So, momentarily free from the blue thing's presence, I pulled the trigger. And I watched with bated breath at the princess' reaction. …

"Ah." It looked almost as if I'd just flashbanged her. Her eyes went wide as if the Dean himself had manifested in our midst. Though, in typical Thacea fashion, she held her own deceptively well. I counted down the seconds as I let that awkward 'reveal' hang in the air for added effect. One, two, three, four… Until finally, I let loose the full truth.

"But that's not the end of it, as you can imagine." Or at least, I did so at a teasing pace.

"Go on?" She urged, that stunned look soon giving way to something worryingly new — a glare I could only describe as a bird of prey out on the prowl.

"You see, he was rushing to the goalpost, hoping to secure an alliance with Earth and all that it entails." I continued unabated, digging the hole just that bit deeper.

"I see…" She narrowed her gaze like a hawk reaching its claws out to a lemming just inches away from escape.

"And?"

"Well… as with most things towards the end of that communique, he later admitted he was acting out of the brashness of youth." I chuckled before quickly attempting to clarify as Thacea's features went through the thick of it.

"There's a lot I chopped off from that video for Ilunor's eyes and ears, but the long and short of it is this. Thalmin was eager to form some sort of a working bilateral relationship with Earthrealm, with the intent of one day securing greater independence from the Nexus' sphere of influence, and the end result of that as our comms were rapidly deteriorating… was a desperate last-ditch attempt to solidify that relationship."

"Through marriage." Thacea clarified, her voice both steely and severe in its delivery.

"Yup! However, as I said, he later said he regretted that, as he was too enamored by the prospects of actually finding a way out of the Nexus' grip. He jumped the gun, basically. Rest assured, though, he lived up to his princely reputation almost immediately after that by walking back on the proposal and annulling it before it could get any further. I'll be including that in my report to Earth as well just so the retraction of intent can be received in writing by folks back home.

At least, I plan to do so once I get the ECS back up and runni—" [Alert! Collision Imminent!] BONK! [No Damage Sustained.] I blinked rapidly, my eyes quickly turning to land on a piece of rolled up parchment situated smack dab on the top of my helmet; the princess had leaped up and was now quite literally levitating in place a good foot or so above the floor.

"Hey! What was that for?" I chuckled deviously, my grin growing wider and my breaths starting to hike in anticipation for nothing short than an all-out cackle.

"For the crime of purposefully withholding crucial chronological and sequential context from such a consequential declaration, with the clear and vested motive to incur a premeditated reaction with malicious intent." She replied sternly before pulling back the parchment.

"Such insolence and insubordination from a knight would typically warrant a sentence far harsher than this… but I am inclined to extend a degree of leniency." She regarded the makeshift bonking stick for a moment.

"This isn't the royal disciplinary baton… but it will have to do." BONK!

"The punishment will continue until discipline is restored."

"And when is that, princess?" I managed out in between haggard chuckles.

"Until I deem it so." BONK!

"Or at least, until you show me the uncensored version of the cave's events." She clarified.

"That I can do with utmost pleasure, Your Majesty." I dipped my head down, hoping to fluster the princess once more just like in previous weeks. Though this time, the only party flustered was yours truly, as Thacea looked on unapologetically. The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. His Majesty's Protectors' Tower. The Dean's Private-Facing Offices. Local Time: 1900 Hours Dean Altalan Rur Astur The room had been quiet, apathetic, and irreceptive towards its sole guest.

Its silence was a damning condemnation of what was supposedly a report of the week's events. I understood this had been a gamble. I knew full well the risks involved with sending him. But with Larial engaged on her assigned quest and the shadowy Arlan Ostoy still a year off from full entry and accreditation into the ranks of the Blackthorns, the only other apprentice I could easily dispense … was him. …

Thankfully, his was a quest far less consequential than most, a veritable accessory to an entirely distinct questline currently occupying much of my attention. One which I was anticipating much more from… in both expectations and results. The results of his quest then should not have surprised me. Indeed, part of me found it amusing that this gamble ended quite fittingly in a casino.

"H-honored Dean! I-if I may—" But that amusement came more so from the trappings of irony, as Apprentice Larial's questline was arguably more of a gamble than the bumbling Anistoza's.

"Hold your mouth, Apprentice Sey Antisonzia the Second. I am still… musing over the results of your 'quest.'" I responded in kind, my eyes dissecting the jester's reports, which had begun with so much promise… but descended further and further into incoherent babblings amidst self-deprecating ramblings with each passing entry. There was… nothing here. Nothing but the insipid drivel of an aspiring poet.

'Aspiring' being the operative word in this instance. I took a deep breath, raising my fingers above the reports, drawing both ink and mana from their pages… before pushing them all to the wayside with a burst of frustration. A frustration… that sent each and every piece of paper and parchment flying high into the air, soaring gracefully towards the vaulted ceilings and straight into the path of the remembrance candles.

The room was momentarily lit up in a brilliant display of flickering lights, smokeless flames casting shadows on corners that typically never saw the cover of dark, all the while the apprentice simmered in his failures; the ashes and embers of his follies quickly joining their master as a dark snow lazily landed upon the elf in question.

"For brevity's sake, we will look past the hot springs debacle." I gritted out, garnering but a sheepish smile from the fool.

"The jousting incident—" He winced."

"—the farmhouse drama—" He bent down, rubbing at his knees.

"—the gala debacle—" A long-suffering sigh escaped him.

"—and the tournament fiasco." I paused, staring tiredly.

"How did you even get yourself into the tourna—" I muttered under my breath before deciding to temper my morbid curiosities with a scoff.

"I will instead focus on what you have actually gathered." I clarified, garnering a burgeoning smile of hope from the man. Hopes… which were dashed by my unrelenting glare.

"Y-yes, gracious Dean!" He responded, uncharacteristically curt.

"You lost track of them… on the first day."

"Ye—""Following which, you continued your investigation with the presumption that they would appear in Nileseypools."

"Yes—""Under the assumption that, quote, 'as the rules stipulate, with the North Rythian forests off-limits to all manner of entry, only the forests of Ruvina and Nileseypools shall be accessible for this quest. Following such logic, the town of Nileseypools — situated in proximity to both forests — shall act as the nexus of their bumbling operations.'" I paused, finally allowing the apprentice to speak.

"Did I miss anything?"

"N-no, gracious Dean…" The pitiful excuse of an elf responded in kind, to which my response was swift.

"Finally, you meet the pair at the tail end of their quest, at a 'gambling den,' of all places." The apprentice's eyes lit up at this prospect, his whole form moving towards an excitement that bordered on hopes of a swift redemption.

"At which point, if I may add, oh wise Dean — I managed to garner irrefutable evidence of the pair's involvement in distasteful activities with a truly abhorrent crowd!" The man beamed. As if this would have been the saving grace to his doomed pursuit. My features remained as they were, as silence and a lack of a response swallowed those hopes up whole.

"As unsavory as these activities may be, dear Apprentice, they are not Academy transgressions. It is morally distasteful, socially ostracizing to some, and reputation-breaking to many… but it is not, strictly speaking, in violation of any established rules." I steadied my breath, maintaining the unflinching air of authority in the midst of this debacle.

"And I assume you did not even do your due diligence in ascertaining where the pair even acquired such funds, did you?"

"Ah! I…" He raised a finger before slowly and sheepishly lowering it with deflating confidence.

"No, gracious Dean…"

"No matter." I shook my head.

"Now, was there anything el— CREAK! The double doors cracked open, and with it came voices from the other side of the veil.

"P-please, Professor Chisk—" THWACK!

"Ah! Hello hello! Oh my oh my, isn't this a welcome reunion?" A loud, bombastic, unexpected presence abruptly entered the fray, her lips parted in a visage that spoke leagues to her intent in this unwelcome interruption.

"I invoke the right of the pedagogue, under the auspices of the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom, oh wise and gracious Dean Altalan Rur Astur." She bowed deeply, adhering to protocol yet very much flaunting her delivery to the contrary.

"I see your attaché has returned, so please! Continue! Speak freely as you were!" I narrowed my gaze, turning to the apprentice, his stance having since shifted dramatically once more, this time… towards an exaggerated posture of thoughtful intent.

"Ah, yes! There is one small detail I seemed to have overlooked, yet one which I believe is quite pertinent…" He openly declared, garnering my renewed interest as I leaned in closer to urge the man on.

"Go on?"

"It is the matter of a certain item left behind by the lupinor prince on his abandoned cruise." He continued, pride welling behind his voice yet again. I leaned even closer now, quietly hoping for something to salvage this—"His horse." … I blinked once. But only once.

"His… horse?" I clarified sternly this time behind a warm, almost reflexive smile.

"Yes! You asked if I had left out any details, Dean Altalan Rur Astur, and indeed I have! It pertains to the matter of the prince's horse, which had led me astray on the first leg of the journey! It still remains within the boat's stowage, now pending repossession under motions of abandonment as stipulated within the terms and conditions of the riverboat's leasing contract." The idiot grinned widely.

His features, or perhaps his delivery, causing the interloper in our midst to let out a series of ill-timed laughs, culminating in a patronizing pat on the apprentice's back. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"You did very well, dear. Very well indeed!"

"R-really?" The fool beamed excitedly in response.

"Why, yes! You were an excellent attaché to have considered every detail available to your—""Thank you, Professor Chiska." I interjected, halting this circus before it had the chance to propagate its blatant mockery any further.

"However, I believe the apprentice was just leaving." I quickly shifted my gaze over to the driveling fool who, at the very least, still possessed some basic grasp of social awareness.

"Indeed, Professor! I have much in the way of studies to catch up on—""Goodbye, Apprentice." I smiled warmly, shooing the man off with a flick of my wrist and eliciting ten or so bows in the process. KA-THUNK!" Now, Professor Chiska, what pleasure do you bring to my audience today?"

"I bring glad tidings, Honored Dean." She spoke in between a bow and a curtsy.

"I bring news of Prince Thalmin Havenbrock's and Cadet Emma Booker's return, marking the first half of the ten questing pairs! Though news from the Elaseer transportium authority has confirmed at least three additional questing pairs have arrived since then, but have yet to have reported back to the Academy for reasons we are both now accustomed to."

I narrowed my gaze, meeting the professor's knowing and mischievous glare, as we both understood what this whole exchange actually was — an unspoken announcement of triumph. A move to gloat over the decidedly objectionable outcome of the apprentice's actions. An attempt to subtly assert her dominance in that niche authority of hers and to repeat and recapitulate her protests to the apprentice's meddling… or lack thereof, given its results.

I smiled kindly in return, nodding, as we both waltzed to the rhythms of polite conversation.

"And you decided on a physical audience when a letter or memorandum would have otherwise sufficed?"

"It would have been an insult to you, your office, and my own station to have relegated such a milestone event to the pages of a simple memorandum, Honored Dean." She dipped her head in respect, matching the cadences of civil conversation with courtly precision.

"Moreover, I found the timing to be quite fortunate. I truly did wish to greet the apprentice upon his arrival as well, considering your insistence on including his involvement as an attaché." She smiled infuriatingly brightly.

"After all, it was with your insistence that he became my prerogative."

"Your commitment to duty and the dignity of both of our stations is noted and appreciated, Professor Chiska." I reciprocated warmly but gave her brazen assaults neither an inch of dignity or territory.

"To that end, please see to it that the Everblooming Blossom's ceremonies are duly prepared. I expect not much in the way of special considerations for such a routine celebration."

"No, not particularly." She acknowledged plainly.

"That is, if our triumphant questers do not wish to laud their spoils of conquest." I narrowed my gaze at that vague statement.

"Prince Havenbrock has returned with a half-broken kelpie." She spoke proudly, causing my eyes to narrow further.

"I thought it would be prudent to inform you of that too, sir."

"Thank you, Professor Chiska. Will that be all?"

"Yes." She smiled graciously before curtseying in polite departure.

"That will be all, Dean Altalan Rur Astur." The Viceroy's Parlor. The Royal Academy of the Magical Arts. His Eternal Majesty's Royal Mandate of Alascia. Crownlands. Nexus. Local Time: 2000 Hours. Apprentice Larial The journey to the Crownlands, even for a midlander such as yourself, is no trivial matter. You will be tested, you will be challenged; your wits taken astray and your faculties pushed to the breaking point.

Everything you have known and everything you have come to normalize, will become irrelevant at worst and quaint at best. For the degree of separation, the disparity in worlds between the greatest of heights and the lowest of depths even for someone as privileged as you — Lady Essen — is comparable perhaps only to the disparity between the adjacencies and our own humble academy. Professor Vanavan's words echoed, louder and louder still, as the world around me threatened to subsume me whole.

"Will that be all, Lady Larial Essen?" I felt each breath cascading against a physical space that existed in suggestion alone. I tried so desperately to concentrate on the matters of the present, the circumstances of the now, the need to maintain normalcy … against a world that was anything but.

My senses were kept barely cognizant, with every fiber of both manafield and soul tugged in competing directions, pulled to each and every bauble and lace belonging to every ornament and curtain directing manafields so artificially that no logical trace of natural orientation could be found. Every article of insignificance bore within them enchantments so esoteric and frivolous that even the most preferred amidst adjacent realms would tremble in their craftsmanship.

Indeed, the room itself, whilst familiar in physical appearance to any other well-to-do office, was deceptive in its unassumingness. Because what sight alone failed to communicate was a world completely tamed down to the last stray manastream. Order had been achieved on a scale otherwise impossible. Chaos, indeed, nature in its unstructured patterns had been slain, butchered, and then carved up for the delight of the sapient senses. Senses…

which needed a degree of acclimatization to truly grapple with—"I require a response, Lady Essen." The viceroy reiterated, pulling me out of my stunned senses and into the realm of an even greater web of obtuse realities.

"Yes, Viceroy. That will be all." I dropped down from my chair towards the carpeted floor and bowed deeply, making a conscious effort to touch my forehead to the ground, lest further offense be committed in the eyes of a Crownlands elite.

"Then it is done." The elder elf declared simply as I counted down the seconds of prostration.

"The articles shall be delivered to your coach by the hour. Your master's… selected possessions shall likewise be loaned to you by the Royal Academy under our binding terms. And should any disruption to our agreements take place… as it did with the late Cartlord, then I shall see to it that disciplinary measures will be dealt, and a privy council be held to discuss the fate of your master's office." Fourty… forty-one, fourty-two, fourty-three…

I lifted my head, quickly returning to the chair opposite the crown-noble.

"Is that understood, Lady Essen?"

"Yes, Viceroy. I will deliver these terms, verbatim, to the Transgracian Academy Dean posthaste."

"Good." He declared. To which I once again bowed.

"I exist to serve, Viceroy." I spoke, my breath finally hitching down in relief, my eyes briefly glancing out the window, and my gaze… enraptured by the sea of endless spires. I began this journey, this sojourn into the beating heart of Nexian primacy, with the expectation of wonder and the quiet certainty that this… impromptu pilgrimage would awaken something within me. And indeed it did. What I saw in this one week, what I witnessed just in these halls alone, incited terror.

A terror inherent in these wonders, inseparable and intertwined. The beauty was merely a distraction, an afterthought to the powers that dwelled beneath. Professor Mal'tory was right… The Crownlands truly was a plane without comparison, the manifestation of the old heavens, hells, and any godly plane that came before, condensed into mortal hands. This was the river from which all rivers flowed. Standing as a monument, a testament, and a warning… to all that would dare challenge the endless age in His Eternal Light.

Dragon's Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Emma and Thacea's Room. Local Time: 2020 Hours Thacea I took a deep breath. My prior actions and their questionable intent now felt entirely trivial when set against the motions of rebellion and unfettered defiance in both Emma's and Thalmin's actions. Ilunor was right. No. We were right.

In adhering to a playbook that had worked flawlessly across tens of thousands of realms, the Nexus had inadvertently shown hostilities to a realm that not only had the unfettered will but also the capacity and tangible legacy to maintain their rights to sovereignty. The seeds of a grand conflict had been planted. And matters had now escalated beyond the reach of either of our control.

"Thacea, you alright?" Emma questioned, pulling me out of my reverie once more as I stared at her with an expression fitting with the leypull of the situation. Which was more than what I could say for Emma's tone of voice.

"I, personally, am fine, Emma." I managed out with a shrill breath.

"But as for the fates of the realms… I cannot say." I offered facetiously before promptly readdressing that exasperated notion.

"Emma, do you understand the implications in its entirety? Do you grasp what both you and Thalmin have just committed?"

"Yes." The earthrealmer replied bluntly, plainly, and with a gravitas that came as a surprising contrast to her earlier sentiments.

"But I find it to be inevitable, Thacea."

"... Excuse me?"

"The Nexus' path of wanton destruction and casual approach to bad-faith diplomacy, amidst many, many other of its ills, would have inevitably brought it into conflict with the GUN. If not this communique, then my planned ECS data bursts would've resulted in the same foregone conclusion. I don't want conflict, Thacea. No sane human does.

And I just hope that the Nexus, or whoever the hell's in charge of this whole thing, will be able to see that any conflict will be a fruitless venture, resulting in lasting irreparable damage at best and total annihilation for all involved at worst." I closed my eyes, my mind going through each and every sight-seer I'd experienced with Emma and the implications of everything shown within.

Amongst the wonders, the architectural feats, and the artificing impossibilities shown explicitly for peaceful intent was the underlying implication of what it could all mean… if retooled for war. The sheer scale of which was beyond what most could fathom.

"I promised Thalmin a brief look into our warfighting capabilities. You'll get to see what I mean eventually." She spoke, not with the gusto or posturing I'd have expected of an uppity, prideful realm, but something more terrifying in its implication — a reluctance. When coupled with Emma's and Earthrealm's purported values and sensibilities, this… reluctance in demonstrating this aspect of their capabilities brought with it horrors I dared not to dwell on at present.

"I… understood this following our first week of talks." I admitted.

"But where that understanding diverges and where my concerns arise is Thalmin's involvement."

"Oh?" Emma cocked her head.

"I understand this was a brash decision on his part, and I understand that he intends to walk back on the proposal." I paused at that, eyeing Emma in the process.

"But this… intent to form relations, bilateral relations, outside of the Nexus' knowledge and beyond its expectant channels of dialogue, this … this is what concerns me most."

"It's because that's how the whole big Adjacent Realm-Nexus war started, right? The illicit lines of status communicatia and such?"

"Correct." I nodded in acknowledgement.

"You are close to retreading old ground, Emma."

"But I raise you this, princess." The human announced, raising a single finger in the process.

"That illicit line of communication was done via a dragon service provider." She beamed, prompting me to narrow my eyes in frustration.

"What this means is that this is fundamentally different from opening, like, a typical line of status communicatia. At least as I understand it. Because there's no mages involved, at least not in the traditional sense. It was all facilitated via draconic resonance, filtered through a broken crystal with high-frequency energy waves as a primary medium of communication. There's no way the Nexus can crack that, let alone notice it."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Emma." I countered immediately.

"The manner through which you establish this is irrelevant. The fact that it is happening at all, and the fact you're retracing the path of forging what is essentially… a rival front against the Nexus is what concerns me."

"Less the details and more the big picture, right?"

"Precisely." I nodded.

"In that case, I getcha…" Emma managed out with a solemn huff.

"At which point, we'd need to actually sit down to discuss the bigger picture here, Thacea." To which I could only remain silent, allowing Emma to continue.

"Thalmin's realm… at least as far as I can tell, is in the midst of being completely undermined by the Nexus. He's told me stories of rebel movements and constant challenges to his family's authority, many of which have strong ties to the Nexus in some way, shape, or form. Alegedly, but still. His family is clearly not liked by the establishment, so whether they remain or fall is of little concern to the Nexus. And while I hate the idea of choosing the winning side for a whole people, the fact of the matter is…

things are not going to get better for the populace if this continues. His realm is going to go the same way as most, just because a larger polity with dreams of primacy wants to forcibly push it in its desired direction." She paused, taking a moment to simply breathe.

"While I would never force Havenbrock in any direction, I think most people back home will agree with me when I say this — we're ready to help. Our arms are open, our people are listening, and our leaders are ready to set sail for a course towards a better reality, a new status quo. One distinct and separate and ultimately guaranteed by a force other than a self-serving imperialist hegemon. Because ultimately, the Nexus isn't the only entity with experience in juggling the affairs of a thousand realms."

I stared into Emma's visor throughout her response; her conviction, her words, and indeed her cadence never once faltered no matter how long I stared. It was at the end of this tirade that I finally collected my thoughts, and a freshly exasperated breath left my beak.

"Have I ever told you how utterly arrogant you sometimes come across, how much hubris your words tend to carry, and how you can so seamlessly embody the egotistical tendencies of a Nexian elf?" I began with a breath of candid frustration. Part of me truly was… frustrated. Unable to reconcile Emma's words, and the blatant rhyme between her intentions with that of the Nexian path. The creation of this…

Earthrealm alliance would inevitably mirror the formation of the eternal web, with Earth acting as a Nexus, surrounding itself amidst a new order of lesser realms. It was an undeniable outcome of such a system, one that inevitably arose from the disparity present between overlord and vassal, patron and client, or in Emma's case — a guarantor and dependant.

There were no favorable dynamics present in Emma's proposal, merely a promise, and a hope, of idealistic intentions superseding what Ilunor had briefly broached towards the end of our conversation — practical gain for practical investment. Or at least… that's how it appeared on the surface. Because all the evidence pointed to the contrary. The memory shards of Thalmin's interactions with her superiors, their dispositions, their reactions and stated intentions, all of it … aligned with Emma's stated claims.

There was a chance it was an elaborate ruse, of course. There was a possibility that Emma, along with her immediate superiors, were simply so deeply indoctrinated that they could not see past their idealistic fervor; bound to puppetstrings and chains to some higher clandestine power. But there was no evidence of that. At least not as things currently stood. Moreover, to entertain such doubts, when all current evidence supported the opposite, was to willingly choose blind paranoia over mere caution.

I would be no better than Ilunor if I did so. Moreover, I needed to take things as they were, now; evidence and all. So I smiled, and decided to reframe my sentiments, to one more fitting of the circumstances; a personable approach to match Emma's earlier jab tit for tat.

"And yet, somehow, your overconfident sentiments always sway in the opposite direction, a direction completely contrary to that of the Nexian mentality your words seem to convey at first glance." I continued, performing my own 'switch in jest' in response to Emma's earlier jabs at my expense.

The reaction to this was just as I'd expected, as Emma was quick to reach a single arm back behind her head in a show of abashment, completing a physical response pattern that was as amusing as it was endearing in its predictability.

"Ahh, well, yeah… I know it can come across like that but I hope the sentiment was there to—""It did, Emma." I interrupted.

"I can see how interjecting absurdist humor can indeed bring much needed levity to a conversation." I added before quickly returning to the heart of our conversation.

"In any case, I understand your sentiments. However, whilst noble and indeed… hopeful, in every sense of the word… I cannot help but to worry about the ramifications of it all." It was with that proclamation that Emma simply shrugged, her response now shifting to a different direction.

"I… can't say I know how this'll all play out in specifics, Thacea. But what I do know is that I have trust that the people back home will be capable of handling it. We've been dreaming, planning, and fantasizing about meeting aliens for nearly a millennium after all! I mean, the LREF itself was partially established for this particular eventuality.

And while conflict with a magical world with limited vectors of interaction was probably not on anyone's cards or wargame sessions, I can tell you that there are probably a thousand and one scenarios that we can pull from and cobble together for this particular eventuality. Whatever the case, I'm still holding out hope that cooler heads will inevitably prevail, and that peace, or some sort of rational conclusion to this mess, will be the endgame here. But if not, well…

we're willing to see to it that we maintain our sovereignty, and the sovereignty of those who might choose to go their own way." I considered Emma's words for a few moments more, pondering, questioning… and actively considering a potential avenue where— No. Not right now. Thalmin may have had the capacity to make such sweeping considerations. But I needed to remind myself why I was even here, what it was I was even doing at the Academy.

A part of me — that buried, once hopeful child — yelled at me to reconsider that notion. Alas, without a clear path forward, I… would still need to continue as best as I could… if only to ensure my own survival… and Father's.

"So… I know I've yapped on and on and on, both live and in recording." Emma suddenly spoke once more, again raising her arms behind her head.

"But I was wondering if we could address another dragon in the dungeon? One that isn't explicitly political in nature?"

"Yes, Emma?"

"It's to do with the seizure." She spoke bluntly, my heart once again wrenching into a state of utter discordance.

"I want to discuss what actually happened during that episode. More specifically, the visions I had during it."