The Prodigal Sunsinger [Imogen]

[Aurin]

"I did say Ansel," he affirmed, giving her a bit of side-eye at her response. "Ansel Gerhard, sure."

She offered a bit of exposition and he just nodded. "That makes sense. He is, indeed, a wanker."

Further tales of his being a tough old wanker only made him smirk.

"The stories track, though some of them he might have embellished for effect. And don't worry... there's a chance he'll be back to normal. He seems stubborn enough to improve just to spite the healers. Anyway, I've had them add some sedatives... however they can get them into him. Just to keep him still long enough to recuperate. But if he's your mentor, I'll gladly shift responsibility for him over to you..."

She had long legs and he wasn't slow, so it didn't take them long to arrive at the Tranquil Gardens. He wasn't shy about sharing intelligence with her as she was a Sunsinger, and he made queries of his own. The covens had promised him news from abroad as well. He also knew where Ansel's room was, so he was able to lead her right there. At the door, he paused.

"I can ward it against intrusion and eavesdropping if you'd like. If you think it necessary. While you catch up on old times, I can talk to the healers about your connection with him so they will answer your questions directly if you have them." A part of him wanted to be in the room, eavesdropping himself, but he could afford them some privacy. He could be a decent person when he wanted to be. It was just rare he wanted to be.

[Imogen]

"I'm not worried about eavesdropping." Imogen shrugged at the thought, "If the nurses listen in, they'll learn little of value. And your Iron Queen-" she grinned as she spoke the moniker "-did the smart thing and chased the Order out of Kalzasi months ago."

They might have left spies, to be sure, but Imogen didn't suppose that would matter. Zaichaer was in chaos, the remainder of the Order's strength was still wherever the hell Zaichaer's armies had gotten off to, and Imogen's cover as a janitor was more ruined than the Pfenning's stage had been after Vanessa dropped the catwalks on it. Anyway, if she wanted to re-establish secrecy she could simply change her race, now.

She was going to have to talk to the Sunsinger leadership about Animus. It was really quite convenient.

"Give me just a moment alone with him so that I can debrief him. And, ah... thank you for being so forthcoming after I dumped myself onto your rooftop and demanded assistance without a hint of warning. Very good of you."

~~~

Imogen entered Master Gerhard's room alone, and was immediately relieved to see that he was seated in a chair next to the cot, rather than prone upon it. The old man was wearing a battered and cracked pair of spectacles, presumably damaged in flight from Zaichaer, and was squinting at a thick book. He did not look up as she entered.

"Leave the tray, please." the old Sunsinger said, "I'll eat all of the broth without minding, you have my word."

"Your word? Skar as my witness, I think that's the easiest I've ever seen you promise anything to anyone."

Gerhard startled, dropping the heavy book onto his lap. He looked up in shock, staring at the younger Sunsinger through his beaten-up glasses. Face-forward, Imogen noticed that Master Gerhard's torso was wrapped in a thick cast, and one of his arms was bound at his side. A blanket hid his legs, but it looked as though he'd grown thinner, doubtless from illness and lack of exercise. Most concerning of all, his beard was bushy, imprecisely trimmed. That betokened dysfunction of the mind.

"Imogen?" Gerhard asked, disbelief plain in his voice, "When did you get back? How did you- I mean, how did you find me here in Kalzasi?"

"I got back from Ecith perhaps three weeks ago. As for how I found you- Mr. Kavafis, who evidently brought you here from Zaichaer? He's a contact of the Railrunners. I think he might have joined them, actually? Never was very clear on how they account for members, they don't use ranks like a civilized coven." A small joke, of course; only the Sunsingers accounted rank as a military might. "He assisted me in obtaining your package last year. Speaking of which, I brought it with me out of storage in the Pfenning. Thought you might still want it."

Gerhard took in this news, and his face darkened. "In truth, I don't know if I do. Whatever I thought I was doing... it made no difference at all, in the end. The High City is..."

"Gone." Imogen interrupted him, brusquely. It was clear to her now that this was what was on Gerhard's mind. She sympathized, but... "In part. But much remains. I don't know if the city itself can ever be safely resettled, but the people in Karnor still need protection."

"Yes, yes, don't lecture me, Corporal." The old man was testy, precisely because he knew she was right, and he knew she knew he knew. It was on every Sunsinger's mind, both that they had failed and that they had no choice but to continue. "Fine. Then how did your mission in the south fare?"

Over the course of a few minutes, Imogen explained the ill-fated course of her mission to Ansel, from the strange confusion the moment she had docked in Drathera to the ultimate failure of her venture in the cave of Koidhou'ov. As she finished, silence filled the small sickroom, the light of the candles flickering fitfully in the mounting shadow of twilight.

"That is... disappointing, of course." Strangely, there wasn't that much disappointment in his voice. "But you were correct to report the failure instead of dying at the hands of some ancient Orkish god-beast."

"I agree, sir."

"I'm the one who makes the jokes, Corporal Ward; don't imagine I'll tolerate any lip just because I nearly got you killed." Gerhard smiled, shaking his head and releasing a shaky breath. "Well, time to move on, as you so aptly noted. You said Aurin Kavafis is here with you?"

"Yes, Master Gerhard."

"Let's start there, then. Ask him to join us, please. I'd come out with you, but..."

"No." Imogen interrupted, "I follow your orders, you must follow the doctor's until you're well. I'll bring Aurin."

~~~

Imogen found Aurin speaking to the healers, as he'd promised, and wasted no time in asking him to come speak with them. By the time they returned to Ansel's room, he had somehow relocated his chair so that he was sitting in front of the window, which he'd opened. Strangely, however, the window did not open out into the pleasant Kalzasi night, but into a featureless expanse of... one would want to say grey, perhaps, but that was an illusion. Whatever was beyond had no color, not at all, but also lacked the absence of any color.

"The work of my Aidolon." the old Sunsinger explained, as Imogen blinked at the bizarre nothingness outside the window "I wish for her to listen, though she won't speak. Mr. Kavafis, my student here says that she thinks we share common interests, you and I. Corporal Ward is a remarkably bad soothsayer, but an excellent judge of character. So, at her suggestion, I wish to thank you for the timely rescue you have provided me... and ask what your future intentions are, as they regard Zaichaer and its witches."

[Aurin]

By the time Imogen came to fetch him, he was actually flirting with the healers, but he had done as he had promised before that. At least one of them watched the human and the orkhan walk off with a speculative air. When they returned to Ansel's room, he didn't even have the good grace to look surprised at the strange manifestation in the window, but then his first tricks had been illusions and how to see through them. And he had fought alongside Ansel Gerhard and knew what he was capable of, magically and militarily. But he knew when to hold his tongue—not that he always did.

The door closed behind them and he leaned back against it. They were back to surnames apparently; this must be serious.

"You're welcome, of course—even if the covens hadn't taken me in, I'm not so self-serving I wouldn't have helped. And even if I was so self-serving, it wouldn't have been wise to leave a witch behind when they could be as much help getting me out as I was getting them out." He had no military background, but he understood tactics.

"As for the rest, I was in Zaichaer to reinstate the connection between the theaters that had been a reliable way to get people out of the Brass City. Went in bold as you please, told them I wanted to be a member of the covens, too..." He shrugged. "It'd help me do my job and it'd help you know I was good for it. Valencia made me sign a magically binding contract, anyway. Did a murder for the Myshalarai and they initiated me. Made good with the Railrunners since I'd be helping most specifically with their work. Was trying to prove I could keep people safe to the Sunsingers when shit went down. Interrupted talks with the other major covens and some of the minor ones too.

"I don't know what the future holds. Zaichaier is... crippled, at least. Not sure what that means for Kalzasi. The Shinsei is still gone. Things feel... off. I'm going to do what I've always done: collect information. Seems as though I'll be providing a safe place for witches passing through. Helping them pass through and get safely where they're going. And helping them settle here if that's what they want. I don't know if that's as definitive an answer as you'd hoped for, but that's what I've got."

[Imogen]

"No specific plan yet, eh? Can't say I blame you, no." Ansel pondered Aurin's words. "Imogen, you said you just came north. What's your assessment of the state of affairs? Speak freely."

"Well... bad, obviously. Dismal, even." Imogen's brow furrowed as she fought to generate a response which wouldn't make her look like a total idiot. "The actual infrastructure wasn't damaged too badly; the blast was somehow very constrained within the Presidiuum and its surroundings. A few of the safe houses within the city are still being run by skeleton crews for the benefit of the evacuees, but most of the strategic resources were removed to the Sanctuary of The Dawn."

"That's administration." Ansel clarified, for Aurin's benefit. "Not in Zaichaer proper, no outsiders permitted entry, even members of the other covens."

"Right. The Sanctuary of Twilight was coordinating bulwark efforts against the twisted, but when I checked in they were very short-staffed."

"And the other covens?"

"Couldn't get into the Market, I don't know if that's because it's been abandoned or just because I couldn't find a Railrunner. The Pfenning was basically abandoned, and the Railrunner storehouse underneath was still intact. Since I couldn't find the market, I also don't know what's happened to the Myshalari. Flew over a few graveyards to see if the Grymalka had emerged, but they were covered in monsters and I decided to stay away; I'm not even sure where exactly the Necropolis is located, relative to the big goddamn hole into the Warrens. " Geography, like many other things, was not one of Imogen Ward's strong suits. "Finally, the Grove's ward is up as strongly as I've seen it. I spent a day looking for it, since... well, you know how the Kindred get with the Mists."

"Yes." Ansel replied, sounding a bit disturbed. He had good reason to be disturbed; the Kindred were the keepers of the ancient spirit magics which, in the days of the Menders, had cleansed southern Karnor of chaos. Their services would be essential in order to remediate Zaichaer. Yet, they were also known to be dangerously fascinated by the mists, prone to losing themselves in observation and becoming afflicted. The best hope, right now, was that the ancient thing which guarded the Grove had also guarded the bulk of the southern druids.

"Oh, and I heard rumors from the witches staying at Twilight, that the covens have been in communication with some ancient Kalzasearn sorceress to contain the rift somehow. Sadly, even the duty officers didn't seem clear on what that was all about."

Ansel waved that away. Closing the rift was beyond his expertise, and so not his immediate concern. "Well, Aurin, there you have it. Information about what's happening in Zaichaer and an efficient way to locate refugee witches all at once- we simply need to get you a line of communication with the Warden of the Sanctuary of Twilight."

[Aurin]

There were some things he already knew about the Sunsingers and their organization, much of it garnered from his time with Ansel. He didn't know if past services coupled with Imogen's recommendation would be enough to move him from whatever status he held among them as a member of other covens into full membership, but ultimately it didn't matter. He was already one of the rare few with multiple connections to the covens, which he hoped would help him keep them together from where he maintained a sort of sanctuary of his own.

He nodded slowly, smirk slipping away as he gave all the things they said due consideration.

"Well," he said slowly, rubbing at the ginger bristle along his jaw, "you've found a Railrunner. Just not a very skilled one yet... All right. Whenever the healers give you a clean bill of health, I assume this means you're going back. I can't... blink you in, but my tricks work well enough for scouting, for distracting monsters, and defense if we get into a fight." He shrugged. "Shit Railrunner, but I have my uses. I'll get you where you need to be, rest up, and then get back to Kalzasi once I've spoken to your Warden."

Aurin had some idea what the other covens were up to, what kept them as major forces within the community of witches in Zaichaer. But he hadn't had the full education; things had been cut short. His mind was already thinking about how to get things covered at the theater while he was gone. If this sort of thing became regular, he was going to have to make his secretary his assistant, get both of them secretaries, and then he could delegate more to them and spend more time doing stupid adventurous things.

[Imogen]

"The healers you have up here won't even tell me when they'll clear me to go." Ansel complained, but even in the room's wan light it was obvious that he was already tired just from the conversation. It might be weeks-even months-yet before he was ready to travel more than the length of the Plaza of Jeweled Arches, let alone traipse back to Zaichaer. "But must needs, I suppose. Imogen, you have no orders?"

"Not from the Sanctuaries, no." Imogen's voice grew a bit withdrawn, almost defensive, "But I do have a contract outstanding, to Fianci and the Railrunners at the Theater."

Ansel frowned, clearly failing to understand what his student was getting at. She wasn't planning to go back and guard an empty building, was she?

"Before I left Zaichaer, I picked up some leads on where Carina went- she was out of the city when the mists came. I... ought to check up on her."

Understanding dawned on the old man's face, and he gave Imogen a curious look. "Your friend, I see." His silence stretched on, as he considered whether he ought to order Imogen to do something more useful. Ansel thought about what needed done immediately, and the uncertainty of his position. He weighed it against the very real risk that Imogen would go off looking for Carina instead of listening to him, and would require wasteful discipline later. Upon that backdrop, he relented. "It isn't entirely professional to conclude a contract without notifying the client. Ordinarily I would say that if Aurin has joined the Railrunners, you might just tell him, but if you're set on Pfenning staff..."

"Thank you, I- yes I do feel that this is the appropriate course." Imogen said, lamely, "I don't know exactly how long I'll be, but I'll report back as soon as I am able."

"Do what you have to, but be quick about it. If I find you've kept me stuck here while you're off canoodling some dancer, I'll ask Gregoire to throw you out of the damn coven. Is that clear? Now, I'm going to bed before those dreadful women come back and lecture me about it again. As though I haven't lived through worse wounds than this while they were still suckling at the teat."

"I am certain they factored your age into their recommendation, Master Gerhard."

"That will be all, Imogen. Good night."

[Aurin]

It didn't seem as though there was aught to be gained by poking the bear, so he just nodded to Ansel.

"I'll be by tomorrow to report," he said, despite the old man's grumbling. Aurin was still new to this and it seemed as though some of the cohesion of the covens had frayed, which was entirely understandable, although anathema to the military-esque discipline of the Sunsingers. Some witches had decided to settle here; others had sought other places. Few were as loyal as Imogen appeared to be and it seemed the least Aurin could do to visit and give him brief digests of the day's news. If the man started feeling irrelevant, his recovery might be in jeopardy. And Aurin found he liked the old curmudgeon and looked forward to sparring with him once he wasn't an invalid.

The fox-faced man followed Imogen out, shutting the door behind him and indicating the direction of the exit with a cock of his head. He only paused to warn one of the healers that Ansel might be in a mood. Otherwise, he was quiet until they hit the night air.

"So. Off to chase Carina, eh?"

He didn't know if the little addict was a key player in the covens, but even he could sense the dissolution of the covens, or the threat of it, and many of them saw it as an existential threat. And far be it from him to judge; he was half-considering getting to Solunarium to drag Arry back lest he succumb to the political machinations of the elf supremacists.

"Need help arranging travel or supplies?

[Imogen]

Although she had just admitted her plans to Master Gerhard and Aurin both, Imogen still found it strangely embarrassing to answer the roguish theater manager's question. It was, perhaps, a mirror to the ordinary divide between the explicit and the merely inferred; it was easy to do something selfish and justify it later, but harder to announce such intentions in advance. And it was selfish, to go chasing her friend while Zaichaer burned.

But the Sunsingers emphasized honesty above all else, and the truth was that she cared more about making sure Carina was safe than anything else. A spirit divided against itself could not stand, a spell cast only slightly in earnest would fail. She would either have to abandon her personal attachments or admit that they defined her.

"Yes." Imogen replied, after a pause appropriate for a bit of internal philosophizing, "I am going to do that. It's stupid, but I'm not going to be able to get much accomplished until I know she's okay."

That was the only admission she felt she needed to make to Aurin Kavafis about that particular subject matter.

"I have travel worked out." Imogen's tone shifted strangely while saying that, as though she wanted to add "unfortunately" or something to that respect. "Supplies, I fear even you cannot help with." The question of how to travel in bird-form without stranding herself five hundred miles deep into unknown country was still an elusive riddle. She wondered, momentarily, whether the Ecithian tolerance for public nudity, unique among all the (three) lands she'd traveled to, had some historic root in the Cardinal Rune's use.

Imogen stepped out into the Commons behind Aurin, blinking in the low light cast from windows and streetlamps. Even in the late dusk, the brightly-colored tile roofing and sinuous decorations displayed throughout Kalzasi caught her eye. They were... nice, in a sort of quaint way. Certainly more pretty than the more subdued hues of her home city- though not, she fancied, nearly so majestic as the larger public buildings.

"Carina belongs to the Railrunner coven, and if I can catch a 'runner who knew her, they can connect us with their magic." Imogen explained, "So I will head south for a time, to find one of that ilk. I know she went to the Gelerian Imperium, but I'm not so stupid as to think I can wander into a nation that size and stumble on one girl. Also, I might have sworn an oath of extermination against them, which was really something of a miscommunication but I'd like to avoid having Lord Raxen's faithful hunt me down to stand trial, all the same."

[Aurin]

"All right," he said, and left it mostly at that. He mused on what she said, wondering what wonders he might achieve when he mastered the mark of the Railrunners. So far, he was trying to understand how places connected, unaware that he might be able to lock onto a specific person without knowing exactly where they were. That would make fetching Arry easier if his ward ever got into trouble somewhere in Solunarium.

Perhaps he would even learn a thing or two from Carina if he ever saw her again.

"Wait... you swore an oath of extermination against the entire Gelerian Imperium?" he asked, only some of his incredulity showing through. She was certainly playing the part of the Ecithese barbarian, which he hadn't anticipated from her. But then, she was allowing him to know her better now that they were both members of the covens. "Well... good luck with that. Not sure I could do anything to aid you in genocide."

Aurin was certain she had her reasons, but she would either share them or not. There were plenty of things he wanted to know, but wasn't sure when his ration of secrets would be up.

"Do you feel as though your oath to the Sunsingers limits you more than it gives you freedom?" he asked. They had accepted him in a manner of speaking, but he wasn't sure he would do well in any organization that was military in structure. Aurin was not good with authority in general, and he didn't think they were going to make him their General, so he didn't know whether it would be a good idea to go all the way, as it were.

[Imogen]

"What, you've never said anything stupid, spur of the moment?" Imogen responded, quite defensive about her implicit approval of an entirely hypothetical genocide, "Anyway, I told you, I'm not going to the Imperium so honor doesn't demand that I murder anyone at all, issue solved."

Anyway, it was a damn stupid way to wage war. If the Commonwealth intended to exact bloody revenge against the Imperium, they should raise an army; if they didn't have the manpower, they should own up to it and call a ceasefire. Tasking your citizens with assaulting random civilians accomplished nothing. If she ever had a chance to confront the Senate on that issue, she had some pretty choice words in mind to describe the entire charade.

"My oath to the Sunsingers?" Imogen blinked, surprised by the sudden inquiry, "Oh, that's not a constraint."

It sounded stupid as soon as it came out of her mouth--a holy oath of obedience to a military hierarchy wasn't a constraint?--so Imogen took a moment to think about how to justify what she felt to be true. "Well, listen. The coven is structured, but only because that's been the best way to operate while keeping people alive. If we were like the Kindred or the Grymalka, dedicated to their lore even to the exclusion of purpose...? Everyone would have died back in 106."

"More than that, strictures only confine you if you can't believe in them wholeheartedly. I know that the Sunsingers do good, and intend good, and that I've done more good cooperating with them than I could on my own." Maybe that was a low bar, coming from a woman who had just admitted to sort-of-accidentally swearing to exterminate an entire nation the moment she was out of the city for a few months. "I guess what I mean is, a bond can help you define yourself, right? So that's how I see things."