The Back of Beyond

[Pharaoh]

"The Back of Beyond"
15 Searing 124
Palatium Umbrarum High Council Chamber

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It was rare that the work Arvælyn and Finn executed for the Realm of Solunarium intersected, outside of social functions that the lower classes would scoff to hear described as toil. Today, however, Sentinel Finn and His Exalted Highness the Crown Prince would unite in an official capacity. Sentinel Phocion was due to brief the Consilium Draconum on the progress of the Custodes Deorum, and had invited Finn to accompany him into the imposing audience.

The Moonborn head of the Vigilia Argenti's newest branch had the meeting on his calendar months in advance and had been quietly nervous about the looming briefing for that entire span of time, though he was diligent in concealing his emotions when the stakes were low, so he was certainly conjuring all the stoicism he could mustre now that the social stakes were amongst the highest he'd had to face. He'd been more isolated in the days preceding the audience, remaining in his offices and refusing all but the most pressing interruptions, which included his briefing with Finn in preparation. Finn, it was explained, would be asked to elaborate upon a few of the agency's affairs to which he'd personally been privy, along with a few other Sentinels who'd taken on leadership roles in the organisation.

They arrived at the palace in formal black, veiled like the Assessors who haunted Arx Rubrum Petram, and Finn would be treated as a formal guest in his own home. They were led down familiar halls by royal guards and were left to wait, albeit briefly, in an antechamber, whilst the prior matters of discussion were being wrapped up amongst the councillors prior to their section of the agenda.

The small Sentinel party was led into the austere chamber set in grey stone which was conservatively adorned with ancient art that highlighted the role the Zalkyrians had played in Solunarian history, but through a very Umbrian lens that complemented the Silver sensibilities of the Varvaran architecture.

At the council chamber, sat all five Zalkyrians in their winged elven seemings. Each an impossibly beautiful creature modeled after the Platinum Elves beloved of their subjects, only framed by folded wings with pointed tips. They looked halfway between a demon and an angel and, in truth, that was rather appropriate to their controversial reputation in the world of Ransera. Apart from the full-blooded dragons, the Princeps Coronam was seated at the right hand of Zalkyriax and his mother, the Vigilia Magna sat to His Exalted Majesty's left- the sole wingless figure on the council, though she somehow looked as though she belonged there despite of the lapse in symmetry.

Phocion lowered himself to one knee, as did his retinue, but was not left long to linger there.

"Come forth, Sentinel Phocion, and speak." Zalkyriax instructed with a nod.

"Your Exalted Highness..." Phocion began, as he rose to his feet and launched into his well-prepared briefing. All went to plan and Finn was given leave to speak his piece when it came to that, but then came the moment Phocion had most dreaded. The part for which he could not quite so consummately prepare: The questions.

He'd been well-prepared to broach the first matter that was addressed, which was the renegade queen. He was able to lay out intelligence about her exploitation of chronomancy to infiltrate Solunarian safeguards and the strides being taken to prevent further such incursions. He was also at the ready, when the questions about Lykos came. There were other high-stakes issues that were brought up, but it was Prince Arvælyn's question that actually surprised him.

"The missing discipuli in the Zonam Mysteriam have become a growing concern to the public. The Academia has failed in its recovery efforts, and the matter has become the gossip of the Dual Realms. Have any strides been made to ascertain whether something of formidable power may be in play that might fall under the umbrella of your order?"

"The Academia has not approached us with this matter, Exalted Highness... Indeed, I have heard only chatter on the subject. We are spread rather thin already, as you know, which is why the discipli were sent to do such a perilous assignment in the first place."

"An assignment upon which they have been toiling for months now, only to disappear. The Eclipse is over, we have made our bargain with the Steward. Surely, we can marshal the resources at this point..."

"Of course, Highness, if we might beg leave of the Vigilia Magna to conscript an agent or two from outside our order?"

Cithæra nodded.

"Then I shall be about it in haste, Your Exalted Highness." He offered with a bow.

As the briefing drew to a close, Phocion, Finn and company were dismissed and escorted out into the corridor and toward the exit. Phocion was silent for a long time, pondering. A small party could be spared, and if this was to be a matter of concern to the Crown Prince, then Phocion could see he had a stake in it.

"Sentinel Finn, you will look into the matter of the missing Academia students. I shall furnish you with the reports we have on the Zonam Mysteriam and you can assemble a small party to delve into the matter. There are children of princes amongst those missing, so the matter is political, but do be on the lookout for matters of genuine concern to our order and make sure to bring people with skills beyond mere spellcraft. Parts of the Zonam have proven to have magic-dampening properties, so mundane skills will be of import."

[Finn]

Finn grew ever more comfortable code-switching between the prince's consort, a bard about town, a Sentinel, an avatar of Aværys, etc. He didn't seek out Arvælyn's eye where he would have before. Taking Zalkyrion's advice to heart, he made himself useful to his husband, to the throne, to the city, and to its draconic overlords, as well as the divine.

He remained upon his knee until he was given leave to rise, to speak, and accorded himself well, he hoped. While he had the training to be glib, he brought some substance to his reports, and the powers that be seemed to find that sufficient. Finn knew that the bar was much higher if he needed to be lauded for doing his job. Thankfully, he got enough of that when he performed or when he made the crown prince's eyes roll back in his head and his toes curl.

Afterward, his back straightened, the only sign that he was pleased Phocion would think to rely upon him first for such an important assignment. He wasn't certain why it had fallen upon the Custodes Deorum, but it had and so he would see it through. He too had heard the gossip. There was a platinum princeps among the missing, and Finn rather wondered whether young Octavian was his father's subtle knife, whether he had engineered things such that he had a platinum princeps to put upon the Luxian throne should Arkænyn fall—or should Arkænyn be pushed.

Finn didn't rightly care which platinum princeps' arse warmed the sunny-side throne as long as it wasn't Thalya's.

"Ut vis, Vigilia."

*~*~*

"You aren't allowed to die, though," Finn said to Raithen as they waited to be allowed into Phocion's presence for whatever parting shots he might have before the small team dove into the Zonam Mysteriam. The dux had volunteered when Finn had mentioned what he was about to be up to, and while he wasn't a Sentinel, Finn trained with him enough that he felt confident they would work well together in whatever situations the unknown might throw at them.

Decius was with them with his skill at Sembling, as well as divers others. The group remained small for mobility, but he had allowed for some overlap of skill sets so one being out of commission wouldn't preclude them from that skill set. And anyway, Raithen could fly. That might come in handy. From his upbringing in Karnor, he knew the wings of an Avialæ were themselves magical, but he hadn't heard that abjinurium or other anti-magical effects disrupted their flight capabilities. Perhaps they would learn of one.

"I don't know how I would replace your mother's favorite pet."

He smiled. Finn's jokes rarely drew blood. Vicious mockery was saved for a select few, such as the pink pony ghost.

[Raithen]

The Dux had been given a paper briefing but the verbal one Finn had given him had been significantly more useful. Raithen could read, of course he could, but his mind did not comprehend, nor retain, information he read nearly so well as it did when it was spoken. Often if his only way to obtain information was through the written word he would have a servi read the text aloud to him. The mission, to seek out and possibly rescue lost Academia students, would not, he imagined, be as straight forward as the briefing had been, but then, few things were without their hidden currents in Solunarium. Being no scholar, Raithen had not attended the Academia, but he did attend the parties for the students fairly regularly. Less of late, as he had no close relatives or persons of interest enrolled, but by chance he had sort of met the class that was now missing by attending Arkænyn at a Academia fête. None had garnered his interest but, to be fair, at the time it would have taken a Divine intervention to pull his attention from his intention.

Raithen laughed at the last order as the bothers-in-law stood outside the door of their other brother's sanctuary, awaiting his pleasure. It was a comfortable place for him to be, waiting on Phocion while conversing with Finn.

"I'll do my best. I've managed not to die so far." A frown creased his brow, if not his mouth as he amended, "That I know of." It was possible he had died and been brought back without his knowledge.

The last time the pair had headed out on a mission together Raithen had been the one granted command. Finn being given that position was not any sort of blow to the Avialea's pride, he was as good at taking orders as giving them in combat situations.

He did not smirk at the next joke, as his face was ill suited to it, but his smile was decidedly wicked as he answered, remaining eyes forward on the door.

"Do you not? I had imagined you knew very well how babies were made."

[Arvælyn]

The doors parted, as if of their own volition. Those in the anteroom knew only too well that Vigil Phocion valued his privacy and was wont to use his Craft of Kinetics where many Solunarians would use underlings, including such tasks as opening doors and pouring beverages for guests. But despite this love of privacy, they would not find Phocion alone, though they would find him in his typical pose facing the window and looking out at the Umbrium. Standing beside the desk, halfway facing Phocion, but with his fiery gaze upon the door was another member of the family.

"It would seem His Exalted Highness is exercising his princely privilege to insert his regal self into your expedition." Phocion announced, without turning from his preferred vista.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I've been so couped up with my administrative duties and I've had little chance to exercise my endless hours of training in a practical, uncontrolled setting. Mother is more than capable of overseeing the Umbrium in my absence."

"To say nothing of the good publicity." Phocion added wryly, "Though I have spent the last half hour in adamant protest, I yield to the ruling of His Exalted Majesty who has seen fit to allow His Highness this indulgence. Enough prologue, though, please be seated." At that, he turned and claimed his own seat as Arvælyn moved to sit across from his raven-haired half-brother.

"Let me begin with the background. The top studio from each campus of the Academia Arcanum were competing in 'The Trials of the Exemplar', an annual quest to determine the emerging arcane talents of the next generation. This year's Trials were very unusual in a number of ways. The students were tasked with exploring newly discovered caverns, hitherto concealed by abjinurium deposits, on behalf of the Dual Realms and with the consent of both Crowns. At their orientation, they were given a pamphlet of rules, information and expectations..." Dossiers floated across the desk to each of them with copies of the files.

"Initially, the Trials were only to last one month, but there were a series of unanticipated hurdles that kept pushing things back further and further. The commission in charge could agree on little more than the extensions and so the studios have been in and out of the Zonam Mysterium for half a year, though most of that was due to all three competing groups being stuck at the same labyrinthine impasse for four months and needing to cooperate to traverse it.

"At any rate, once that gate was unlocked they were able to press on and that, I'm afraid, is when the disappearances began to take place. Three members of the Luxian Studium were the first to vanish- Two of them princes royal and the other a Vastian of the Patrician caste from a celebrated Gens. Three of the Tertian students disappeared shortly thereafter, and finally the Umbrian campus lost a Luxian Platinum prince, a Re'hyæan moonborn and a former slave. If not for the ingenuity of the Moonborn, their top student, we would know even less than we do now, but he was able to scriven a sort of message that our Assessors Sembled into something of a narrative. It is through this that we learned the where and when of the disappearances, which took place past an ancient gate that bore runic markings similar to those found upon the Temple of Midnight's Mother. The Luxians were the first to cross its threshold, and none who've passed though that gate have yet returned. You with me, so far?"

[Finn]

"I hear whenever they fear you've died in the Æternæ Noctis, there are certain bouquets of choice wine or choicer courtesan that will rouse you if waved under your nose," he tossed back lightly. The low-hanging, maternal fruit might actually upset Raithen, which was never his intention, and even if it didn't, he got the sense that she would somehow know. Even if she didn't, her knowing gaze often made him feel like a misbehaving child even now.

The jostling and ribbing stopped when the door opened, his smile turning somber as he turned toward the familiar sight of Phocion's silhouette against the window. He brightened, albeit curiously, at another familiar sight. He strode in beside Raithen, then bowed correctly. The gens Phædryn-Sol'Aværys—and Phædryn-Sol'Zalkyrion, he supposed—tended toward a certain level of formality even when at their ease. As such, he tried to take Arvælyn's lead when it came to shows of formality and familiarity, and he erred on the conservative side, thinking it better to be ribbed for being overly formal than to embarrass his sometimes choleric husband.

Dark eyebrows rose at the news, but otherwise, he didn't react. Sitting as he was bidden, he listened and he skimmed what was passed to him, not wanting to miss anything Phocion said as he hated to repeat himself and the dossiers, at least, were more permanent than words in the air.

"Vero, domine," was his curt response. He had been present with Phocion when the question of the missing studia had been put to the head of the Custodes Deorum rather than to the Vigilia Magna at the dragon king's side. For his part, Finn had tried to learn as much as he could beyond hearsay between then and this meeting.

[Raithen]

The addition of his youngest brother into the room, and the quest, wasn't that great a surprise when Raithen allowed himself a moment to consider it. His Exalted Highness was not entirely comfortable with his husband's relationship with Raithen. Their mother had made an attempt to explain it to him but he had come out of that conversation with the belief that the foreign culture in which both Finn and Arvælyn had been raised was simply too different for him to fully understand without a great deal of explanation which he wasn't interested in receiving.

The physical requirements from him had been explained and he could adhere to them well enough and knew now to look out for warning signs that his behavior was unacceptable to his draconian sibling. That was all that was required.

The Avialea greeted both of the men who awaited them with the respect appropriate to their stations and then took his seat. The preamble to their mission seemed redundant until he realized that, similarly to the social norms they did not share, his companions on this mission probably had no knowledge of the Academia Arcanum's schedule of events. When a folder of additional information was floated to him he took it over with his own Kinetics and slid it into his satchel to explore later.

When Phocion questioned he gave the single quick down bob of his head that he had learned in his various military training. He had no questions but waited to see if the others did for, while, unlike in their first Phocion-given mission together, he would not lead, he would certainly be expected to fill in any cultural gaps in their knowledge.

[Arvælyn]

Arvælyn's eyes lingered a moment upon Raithen. He knew that Finn had been assigned to this task upon which Arvælyn himself had set Phocion, but he'd only just learned that his sole winged relation from the distaff side would be joining as well. He did recall that Phocion had sought permission to bring non-Sentinels into the fold of the mission, but it was Finn being assigned as mission captain that inspired him to make good on what he'd proposed earlier in the season... a return to adventure and a sabbatical from politicking. He had to wonder whether Raithen's involvement wasn't another of their mother's machinations in hopes of a bit of brotherly bonding. Whatever the case, Phocion's lore dump demanded his attention and so he conferred it from the sunlit brother to the moonlit.

At Phocion's check in, Arvælyn offered an "Aye." And the Vigil continued:

"Good. For the purposes of this expedition, Sentinel Finn will be in charge as the formally trained Sentinel. Your Exalted Highness and you, Raithen, will be treated as provisional Sentinel conscripts and warded uniforms have already been tailored to suit both of your builds and your... particular physiologies." He said, glancing to the reptilian wings and the avian pair.

"Now, then... The discipli were able to chart a navigable course through the caverns at least to the point where they disappeared. Slipspace beacons have been situated in areas along the route where magic is not completely dampened, but Traversion may not operate as you are accustomed within the confines of the Zonam Mysteriam. Even with the beacons you will need to be very focused as not to wind up appearing halfway in the walls. The journey to the gate will not take months, as for the students, but it will take days and you will need to camp along the way. The range of the beacons is limited so you will need to go on foot until you can sense them. The good news is, the students marked their way through the labyrinthine area, so you'll just be able to follow that when you get to the final stretch before the spot where they vanished.

"Everything else should be in the dossiers. Sentinel Finn, the floor is yours if you've anything to add or need to make introductions..." Though he'd directed the bulk of his briefing to the three magnati at the forefront, his eyes now found the others Finn had enlisted to join them.

Arvælyn smiled slightly and turned his attention from Phocion to Finn, rather looking forward to being led and deferring to someone who wasn't an impossibly austere ancient dragon.

[Finn]

Finn steeled himself. He knew Arvælyn needed something like this to recalibrate himself, but he could wish it were not such a dangerous cure for what ailed him. His training with the Vigilia Argenti had been rather brief; Finn had taken the role and made it permanent for himself when the prince's full parentage was revealed. His husband's power of Command outstripped even his own, but if they were walking into an area riddled with abjinurium, they would have to rely upon mundane skills. Perhaps his draconic nature would shield him from the effects, or prove a different sort of advantage. He could hope.

He would have to prioritize keeping the prince-regent of the Umbrium alive now, too, though.

The broad-shouldered Sentinel smiled tightly and stood. He introduced Decius, as well as two quite capable Sentinels whose magical prowess was unremarkable, but counterbalanced by the unmagical. Spelunking and survival far from civilization were important to round out their matrix of skill sets.

"If anyone has questions of Sentinel Phocion, please ask now. Otherwise, we can release him to his other duties and go over the dossiers together."

Their equipment was being packed as they spoke, and last-minute requests could be dealt with before they departed, but there was pressure from the highest on the Pyramid. They needed to get moving sooner rather than later.

[Raithen]

The use of his name, rather than any title, was noticed but not given any negative connotations by the dux. Raithen liked his name in his brother's mouth, and it was there rather more seldom than he would have preferred. There had been little reason, of late, for the pair to meet and when occasion had allowed it was never alone. Raithen was not a child any more, not able to push into his the spaces of any member of his family without consequence beyond a scolding.

He should, perhaps, find something that would occupy his time as the time of both of his brothers, his sister and his mother were occupied. The problem was that he had no ambitions outside of theirs, no desires in the realms of personal gain nor duty to inspire him. Most of his time was spent either amusing himself or waiting to be called on by either his Divine or earthly family members to fulfill whatever purposes they had that might make use of him.

It was for moments like the this one that he lived, possibly, literally. He listened and nodded, greeted the other Sentinels that would be accompanying them, taking their measure, and then made a polite bow when Phocion took his leave. He behaved, in short, as expected, as he had been trained.

A part of his mind watched Arvælyn carefully but Raithen himself could not have said if this was because of all his training in both spy-craft and deference to the highest rank in any room, or because of his own, personal interest. His newest brother interested him but a series of unintentional events had, if not soured, at least distanced their budding relationship. Perhaps this mission would provide an opportunity to make a new attempt. He would watch Finn for cues on how to behave, as Arvælyn's husband must know him best.

[Arvælyn]

"Then, if there is nothing further, you will find base camp spearpoint at the edge of the Zonam. Sentinel Finn, you will recognise this as being in the area you explored early in the discovery of the region. A great deal of excavation and exploration have been done since then, but you will find a civilised presence headquartered there and it should prove a passable staging ground from which to begin your operation. Good fortune to you all." Phocion said, bowing to Arvælyn, before shifting his attention to a document on his desk.

Once they'd quit the office proper and stood in the anteroom outside the sphere in which they might vex Phocion, Arvælyn introduced himself to Decius and the other unfamiliar sentinels. He found himself anxious to speak to Raithen. Irrespective of his capital Craft, there was, to the prince's mind, a palpable awkwardness between them. They'd lingered in that liminal space for quite some time and there wasn't really an easy, quick fix... Well, there was, but not one that wouldn't defy Finn's moral sensibilities and potentially confound their mother.

In any event, he decided to push through the awkwardness and try it the old fashioned way.

"Raithen... Founders, I don't think we've had a proper adventure together since the three-headed wyvern incident, have we?" As he'd discussed with Finn lately, Arvælyn hadn't had much time for adventure at all since ascending to his current rank in the Umbrium. There'd been so much to learn and, even now, it was a hardship to step away, but one he felt it important for himself and the realm to brook. He knew there were figures in his father's court far wiser and steadier-handed than he... though he also knew their ways were more severe and their concern for the smallfolk mercurial.

He glanced to Finn, not wishing to hold up their progress with pleasantries, even if he deemed them to be overdue. From what Phocion had said, there would be time enough for brotherly bonding en route through the Zonam Mysteriam.