Continued from A Brother's Plea
Valencia of the Railrunners stood in the elaborate entryway of White Knight Hall. The wide space was darkened and mostly empty, containing only herself, one of the odd Order-Coven hybrids that had come into being since Zaichaer's most recent fall, and...
The witch was not prepared to speculate as to the nature of the woman whose eyes she met, as much exploring as being explored. She hoped she was not being explored much further than she was able to, but it was a risk she had accepted when she signed the hastily scrawled contract that Eshar of the Myshalarai had pulled out of thin air and added a few quick details to. The other coven leader had barely given her time to read the words before all but taking her hand to make the Scrivened mark that was her Railrunner signature. Eshar had admonished her to hurry (as though such a requirement had not been obvious) while keeping their eyes trained on the ceiling. Had the Sky Islands not come into existence, the posture might have been more unusual, but a lot of people spent their time looking up, these days. Physically and metaphorically, and mostly due to the actions of Dornkirk and his talented kin. Valencia was not foolish enough to be unwilling to admit that the meteoric re-rise to power of her home nation had only been made possible at the speed it had been managed because of the actions of others. She had nudged things, to her advantage at times, but mostly to the advantage of the now budding government. Safety and stability was good for all, after all.
When she had given Kala a good long moment to find in her face whatever it was she might be looking for, Valencia held out her hand.
"Will you come with me, or will I take you to that pavilion of yours?"
Valencia of the Railrunners stood in the elaborate entryway of White Knight Hall. The wide space was darkened and mostly empty, containing only herself, one of the odd Order-Coven hybrids that had come into being since Zaichaer's most recent fall, and...
The witch was not prepared to speculate as to the nature of the woman whose eyes she met, as much exploring as being explored. She hoped she was not being explored much further than she was able to, but it was a risk she had accepted when she signed the hastily scrawled contract that Eshar of the Myshalarai had pulled out of thin air and added a few quick details to. The other coven leader had barely given her time to read the words before all but taking her hand to make the Scrivened mark that was her Railrunner signature. Eshar had admonished her to hurry (as though such a requirement had not been obvious) while keeping their eyes trained on the ceiling. Had the Sky Islands not come into existence, the posture might have been more unusual, but a lot of people spent their time looking up, these days. Physically and metaphorically, and mostly due to the actions of Dornkirk and his talented kin. Valencia was not foolish enough to be unwilling to admit that the meteoric re-rise to power of her home nation had only been made possible at the speed it had been managed because of the actions of others. She had nudged things, to her advantage at times, but mostly to the advantage of the now budding government. Safety and stability was good for all, after all.
When she had given Kala a good long moment to find in her face whatever it was she might be looking for, Valencia held out her hand.
"Will you come with me, or will I take you to that pavilion of yours?"