"Perfect Dark" [Talon]

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Perfect Dark"

Glade the 76th of the 121st Year of Steel

Another day playing diplomat or, more to the point, tour guide to the Crown Prince of Kalzasi. Brenner was surprised to find that he didn't altogether detest this new role in which he'd been cast by the brass of the Brass City. For a long time the second son of House Dornkirk was perplexed at how he'd found himself relegated to such a high-profile position that fell so far afield of his focused training. It was the first son of House Dornkirk who pointed out to his younger brother that, perhaps, it had something to do with his heroism during the Tragic Events of Glade the 8th, and the immensely notable person he'd ostensibly impressed: The Grand Marshal's mum.

Brenner had thought a lot about that incident since it transpired. The pageant of blood that those mages made of the crowd in the courtyard still haunted his dreams- Vindicating the prejudices he'd already held, and rendering them as indelible as a rune upon his psyche. No more were the horrors of sorcery something faceless and remote. He'd seen human lives cut short- human bodies torn asunder into gore and viscera. And visceral was his furnace-burning hatred for the blight that was magic and those who practised its wicked, wïerding ways.

But he didn't only consider the horrors wrought that day, he also frequently pondered the adjoining boons. Like any good son of the state of Zaichaer, Brenner utterly idolised the Grand Marshal who reigned with an iron fist over the City of Brass. Brenner wasn't above the sensation of being star struck, and he couldn't remember ever having been as awed to meet anyone as the Grand Marshal's mother. The notion that their glorious leader might be aware of his existence- might have even personally assigned him to his current posting, made Brenner's patriotic heart swell with immense pride.

Proud though he was, the Air Commander's current assignment required him to project humility. Though he was no ambassador, Brenner was the face and voice of Zaichaer in whose company Talon spent the most time. He had to ply his charisma, such as it was, to make the Fatherland look as good as possible, even when things went awry as on the airfield or in the factory. The improvisation was diverting, but these long days of playacting a level of tolerance no true Zaichaeri felt in the presence of such potent witchcraft took a toll on the young soldier.

Fortunately, the real diplomats were about their work today, and so Brenner was able to make an early day of it. With the actual ambassadors keeping the company of the prince, the Air Commander returned to the more familiar environs of Onneifer. Since he was still essentially on call for his diplomatic duties, there weren't any assignments awaiting him on the Searing Victory. In fact, the great dreadnought had remained grounded since the show-of-force that had greeted the Kalzasern delegation a few days earlier. He found only a skeleton crew aboard his ship, and when he ascended the gangplank and made his way into the hold he found the few airmen charged with maintaining the ship were presently playing cards and drinking Gelerian schnapps.

"Shit!" Airman Riess dropped his hand of cards on the table and shot out of his seat to salute the Air Commander, who only chuckled in response.

"At ease, Riess. Sit back down and deal me in." Brenner ordered, pulling up a stool and reaching for the half-empty bottle, much to the relief of all present.

It was some hours and two more bottles before a far more relaxed Brenner Dornkirk descended the gangplank, and regarded a gorgeous sunset looming over the airfield. He let out a contented sigh and paused there to take in the majestic sight until a silhouette soared across the glowing disc descending from on high- A winged figure... humanoid. He squinted as he followed its path with his eyes and, as they adjusted to the shift in light, he recognised the form.

Taking a quick swig from his freshly-replenished flask of schnapps, he sighed and marched toward the field where Talon alighted. Tucking the vessel back into his coat pocket, he approached the prince with a faint smile.

"Fancy meeting you here."

[Talon]

76 Glade 121

The winds were different in Zaichaer. There was a restlessness to them that sang to Talon of the inner turmoil that the City of Brass faced. If he had to describe his impression of Zaichaer it could be summarized by one word: fear. The people of this land were afraid. They were afraid of the things that lurked in the dark. They were afraid of things that were different and thus they sought to bind those things instead of seeking to understand them. Zaichaer was a staunch supporter of the teachings of New Atheism. It was a philosophy that Talon could not say he agreed or disagreed with. There were parts of it that were admirable. The idea that mortals took ownership of their own destinies, rejecting the notion that any were masters of their fate but them, was something that could give people hope. Somewhere along the way though, Talon believed that the message of New Atheism had been lost.

Where in it, he could see the teachings designs to inspire people to take control of their lives and propel themselves to greater heights through their own ingenuity, it was entwined with rather brutal tactics. Zaichaer used the teachings of New Atheism and the Order of Reconciliators to demonize anything that went against them. Mages, and by extension, non-humans were seen as vile and unclean. They were Other and thus a danger to society.

Talon banked left, angling his body so that he could follow the path of an air current. He was flying through the clouds, using them to partially cover himself from people who might observe him from below. There was not enough cloud cover to be completely concealed but it was enough to allow him the illusion of privacy. The feeling of mist gathering upon his wings brought him a sense of calm that allowed him to ease more into the sensation of flying. His thoughts returned to the dilemma dancing on the edges of his mind.

What was the path forward from here? He did not know. But Talon had a feeling that the answer would come in due time. It was the same feeling that had guided him in his fights against the Archwraith, the same feeling that had been with him when his head had cleared moments before his rebirth. Whether that meant he had a sense of destiny, he did not know. Even as a demigod, Talon did not feel as though he could see the future. He had a different perspective on the world, certainly, but he was no more omnipotent than he had been as a mortal. He drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he angled his body in order to return to the earth. He dipped down out of the clouds, passing before the setting sun in order to warm himself. He felt the touch of the sunlight brush upon something inside of him. It called to his soul on a level that awoke a deep emotion inside of him. He could not put words to it but the longing and the kinship he felt with the light made him yearn to know, do, and see more.

There, illuminated by the sunlight and perhaps shielded from the view of others, Talon allowed himself to truly breathe. He dropped the careful hold he had to maintain in order to keep his divine nimbus concealed. The blue-violet markings on his body shone silver-white before adopting the rose gold light of the setting sun for the briefest of moments. Talon hung there, silver wings spread to be touched by the sun, and for the first time in a great many days, he felt peace settle over him. He opened his eyes, gazing into the light of the sun with a tenderness on his face as though he were greeting a very old friend. Something in it seemed to reach back to him and he let the warmth of it settle over him. Letting out a breath, Talon pulled the veil of mortality back into place. He dismissed his nimbus and lowered himself to the ground.

As he turned, he saw a familiar face. The dutiful visage of Commander Brenner Dornkirk was slowly making his way across the open fields of Onneifer Airfield. He sighed inwardly as his bare feet landed upon the soft grass. His belongings were neatly folded next to a well weathered and much used travel satchel. Talon wore only the well tailored leather pants he often wore when traveling the wilds. His hair was untied instead of the traditional ponytail that he typically kept it in. He walked forward, folding his wings into place behind him as he made his way over to his belongings. His entourage was just far enough away to afford him some space, conversing with the crew of the ship that he had traveled on.

Talon was reaching down to pick up his hair tie as Commander Dornkirk approached. He allowed the ghost of a sardonic smile to touch his lips. Somehow he doubted that the Commander actually felt it was a fancy meeting at all. He opened up his senses to the flow of the aether, funneling them down so that he could bring the Commander’s aura into view. As usual, it was veiled. The man regulated his emotions well. Talon caught the distinct smell and feint taste of alcohol around the edges.

“Commander.” Talon offered the man a nod as he swept his fingers through his hair, untangling the strands so that he could tie it back into a ponytail. “If my presence is interrupting your evening, I apologize. You need not stand on ceremony.”

Talon cast a glance toward where his entourage was a fair distance away on the Kalzasern ship, enjoying a small bit of reprieve. His bondmate, Aoren, was posted up against one of the main masts. He was watching, as always, but was keeping his distance.

“I think we are removed enough from the eyes of polite society to where you may be candid.” He glanced at the flask in Brenner’s grasp.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner, for his part, was still dressed roughly as Talon had last seen him earlier that day. The clothes were formal, but the way he now wore them was anything but. His once-crisply ironed white shirt was now wrinkled and untucked from his trousers. Suspenders hung at his waist, sleeves were cuffed and his jacket was folded over the arm that bore the flask. His mode of dress and his comportment were, in this moment, more casual than Talon had ever seen.

"Not at all." He gestured with his free hand and waved away the courteous offer of an easy out from their discourse. Had Brenner sought to avoid the interaction, he might have very easily slipped away in another direction, pretending not to have noticed him. However, for all of Brenner's State-sponsored scruples, he found that he was intrigued by the Crown Prince of Kalzasi. He hadn't been brash, rude or blustering. He'd been downright polite to Brenner and to all who afforded him courtesy and gentility rather than open scorn. He'd even taken things well when Brenner had occasion to chastise him for flagrant use of his Kraft.

As a fleeting hush settled between them, Brenner's eyes trailed from the prince's face down the length of his form. He, too, was presenting more casually. Hair down, unshod, Brenner might have even found Talon handsome... If his proportions weren't so grotesquely exaggerated by whatever ancient sorcery blighted the world with his bastard race. The prince's voice drew Brenner's eye-line back up from his feet to his face,

"You wound me!" He jested, grinning broadly. "I'd like to think I've been relatively candid. Guarded, I'll grant, and I'm sure I've employed a touch of hyperbole here and there, but such is the role into which I've been cast by wiser heads than mine." His eyes followed Talon's to the flask in his hand, and he regarded it for a moment, before extending it toward the prince.

"Fancy a nip?" He wasn't sure whether Talon's attention on the vessel was a critical eye or a coveting one, but in either instance, it seemed only proper to pose the offer.

"I don't usually do this, you know." He pursed his lips, "The, um... whole tour guide bit, I mean, not the drinking. I have to say I was rather startled to receive the assignment. At first I took it for a mistake, but then they briefed me and, sure enough, I was the one they wanted.

"I should thank you. My first foray into practising the art of the possible, and... It has not been an altogether unpleasant experience."

[Talon]

Talon finished tying his hair, allowing it to hang over his shoulder. He caught the flash of disdain that flittered across Brenner’s aura briefly and was not surprised by it. That seemed to be the running theme when it came to interacting with Zaichaeri officials. It was not unexpected. Talon represented the pinnacle of most everything they hated. The question was, could they see past their hate? Could Talon see past his own prejudices?

He accepted the offered flask. The smell of it told him that it was not something he was overly familiar with. Opening it up he took a swig. As soon as the drink hit his tongue, he knew it was a Gelerian schnapps. It was a drink that had been offered to him on his second night in Zaichaer. Given the political relationship between Kalzasi and the Imperium, the two nations did not trade with one another directly. The taste was not one he was accustomed to but it was not unpleasant. He held the flask up, eyeing it for a moment.

“I often ask myself what life would have been like had I been born in the Imperium.” Talon thought on the life that Aoren had once described. The Kathar of the Gelerian Imperium occupied a curious role in their society. They were the war dogs of the Imperial Inquisition and often bodyguards to the emperor. From what his bondmate had told him, where the Kathar went, it meant that the Inquisition and often the emperor soon followed. They were figures that induced fear, not respect. His brief encounter with an Imperial Inquisitor had shown him the tools at their disposal, the devices used to control his people were terrible to behold. He extended the flask back to Brenner.

“I can see why they selected you for the role.” Talon reached down. He picked up one of his boots and tugged it on, kneeling to begin tying the laces. “You speak your mind but do so tactfully. You have a flare for oration that can be disarming, even in tense situations.”

Talon finished tying his boot. He then tugged on the other one, proceeding to tie that one as he continued to list off what he had observed of Brenner thus far.

“I imagine you were chosen because your superiors want me to see that Zaichaer is not the place I have been led to believe it is.” Talon could admit that if that was one of the goals that the Zaichaeri officials had in mind, they had succeeded. Zaichaer was everything Talon had been led to believe it was and more. There were people there who were suffering. There were people who were prospering. He could see and hear the burbling murmur of both resentment as well as fanatical pride that existed within the city-state’s people. He finished tying his other boot then rose to his full height. He folded his arms over his chest, showcasing the numerous witchmarks that decorated his torso. From the arcane rune that was etched upon his face to the markings that decorated his arms and his flanks, there was never a chance that Talon would be mistaken for a non-magic user.

“If diplomacy and politics interest you, Commander, I invite you to Kalzasi. Perhaps, as you have shown me your city, you will allow me to show you mine.”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner arched an eyebrow at Talon's response to the offered spirit. It took a moment for him to register that Talon was responding to its Gelerian origins. His resultant smile seemed cordial on the surface, but there was a darker amusement behind his steely eyes.

"As have I." He mused, suppressing the smirk that threatened to destabilise the symmetry and ostensible warmth of the smile he already wore. He was certain their respective fantasies about life in the Imperium were starkly different, and he found that notion amusing. Whereas Brenner imagined a life of nonpareil glory in Geleros, Talon doubtless envisioned a life of subjugation clipping his figurative wings. Brenner was certain he would thrive like a house on fire in the realm that knew his name meant "Firebringer".

He accepted the flask and held it aloft between them for a moment, his eyes darting to the mouthpiece where Talon's lips had met the metal. He pursed his own lip and twisted the cap closed, tucking the vessel into the back pocket of his trousers as his eyes darted up to regard Talon's face as the prince paid him rather lofty compliments.

"Disarming?" He repeated, taken aback. "Quatsch! Nobody warned me the Crown Prince of Kalzasi was such a flatterer." And there was something of a blush rising on his fair face to match the hues the setting sun cast across the horizon. But perhaps that was merely the schnapps.

"And is Zaichaer the place you've been led to believe, Highness?" He turned to look back toward the city proper, considering the all-too-familiar skyline from this all-too-familiar vantage. He'd spent his whole life based in this city, and his entire adult life based at this airfield. It was strange to think how a foreigner from so different a culture might regard his beloved Fatherland.

"What?" He blinked suddenly, at that unexpected invitation. "I..." He was speechless. He'd imagined visiting Kalzasi, of course, but only ever at the head of an invasion fleet. Since childhood he'd borne a very specific vision of Kalzasi and, unsurprisingly, it was not a flattering one. He vividly recalled seeing a play performed by a local troupe, when he was only a boy- a tragicomedy set in Kalzasi where the Zaichaeri hero was set upon by all manner of beasts with pyrotechnics erupting from the snouts of their masks to emulate magic. The line that had always stuck out to him was uttered by the hero in the midst of a particularly mismatched battle, 'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!'. Ever since then, that had been the slogan for Kalzasi in Brenner's mind, and now the Crown Prince of those devils was inviting him there for tea.

"I should very much like to see it before I die." Equivocated the Firebringer, "Perhaps the line of duty will permit me to accept your kindly invitation..." And lest Talon take the notion of an Air Commander of Zaichaer visiting Kalzasi out of duty in a threatening manner, he added: "...if I am asked to continue in my role as a diplomat." He turned to face the prince again and stared for a moment at the markings that traversed his muscular form.

"Is it painful?" He wondered aloud, "Being... branded thus?"

[Talon]

“No doubt our visions of life in Gel’grandal are vastly different, Commander.” Talon’s tone held a note of dark humor. He was under no illusions as to what either of them would think their lives would be like in the Imperial realm. It was a wonder that there were no Inquisitors with the Dornkirk entourage. Talon laughed softly at Brenner’s reaction to his compliments.

“It is as I said, compliments given where they are due.” Talon had seen the duality of Zaichaer thus far. While with the Reconciliator, Talon had seen some of the City of Brass’ brutality and open racism, he was treated to its cunning and knack for charismatic diplomacy while around the Air Commander. It was a careful dance that was being played where the authorities of the territory fed their people curated falsehoods, a steady diet of fear laced paranoia and a healthy dose of admiration balanced with fear of the State that this place played. When the man proposed his next question, Talon looked to the city. The many city-states of Kalzasi were comparable to the duchies of other kingdoms. Each city was, in truth, the capital of a much larger swath of territory.

What Talon saw sprawling before him was a city that had immense potential. If Zaichaer truly wanted to, it had within it the makings of a unifier for all of the Northlands. But it would take something drastic to alter the balance of power between the States before that happened.

“No. It is not.” Talon did not say whether that was a good thing. He was not yet certain himself whether it was. At Brenner’s reaction to his invitation to Kalzasi, the demigod could not help but laugh.

“Perhaps it is for the best then that you do not visit. I am afraid you might be greatly disappointed. Kalzaserns only consort with demons when both moons are in alignment on a Cuvindas and only if we have been thoroughly intoxicated with barrels of aetherwine.” Talon knew well what some of the Zaichaeri teachings told its citizens of Kalzasi. That his homeland was a place rife with nefarious mages and wicked demons ready to snatch children from their beds all while profane rituals were conducted en masse in the streets. Talon would have found such stories amusing were it not for the fact that there were those who truly believed that was what his country was like. He went to run his hand through his hair when Brenner posed an unexpected question.

Talon looked at the markings that were on the back of his hand, trailing up his arm to form an elaborate pattern of unmistakably arcane origin. He remembered how he received every single one. From the moment of his initiation to the present day. Talon closed his hand into a fist. The markings on his body glowed brighter, an aethereal violet-blue that highlighted his Siltori heritage. The markings dimmed to their normal hue.

“Yes.”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"No doubt." Brenner agreed with a snigger accompanied by a single, firm nod. He was certain his own perception of the Imperium was markedly more favourable than whatever the prince envisioned. It was a proud part of Brenner's background, and a salient example of the sort of society he sought to create in Zaichaer.

In truth, Brenner had often wondered how he might have fared had he been born in his Motherland, rather than his Fatherland. Perhaps he was fortunate to have been reared in a smaller pond to enable him to grow into a bigger fish with greater ease and less competition. He might have been overlooked in the Imperium, given his father's humble background, and other disadvantages that might have been more stark there than here. But, then again, maybe he'd have risen higher and faster abroad of Zaichaer. He could envision no way of ever knowing how things might have transpired for him there, short of arcane scrying and that was illegal.

"Very well, Highness, then I shall accept them accordingly and with gratitude." Brenner conceded, with a gentle chuckle. His smile faded at the curt response to his question about how the prince found his Fatherland. On the one hand, Brenner was a proud patriot and his reflex was to be offended that anyone might see Zaichaer as anything other than glorious, on the other hand he had a practical mind and could recognise the abundant reasons this particular individual might not find it so. At least he was doing his job well enough that he could sense ambivalence, rather than outright disdain.

He blinked at the fanciful description of Kalzasi, and shook his head.

"Are you taking the piss? Because that sounds mild next to what we hear from merchants and minstrels..." He paused, and considered as his eyes returned to the strange tattoos that wound about the landscape of the Avialae's sinewy flesh.

"Speaking of fanciful rumours..." He pursed his lips, already reconsidering the topic he'd been keen to broach. He took a breath, and ploughed ahead, "...There's been an interesting yarn about you that has cropped up recently... After that-..." He faced North, and gestured into the sky. "Bizarre preternatural event that took place a few months back. I was in the air when that took place, you see, and close enough to observe..." But that wasn't the point,

"You know of what I speak, Highness... And I won't ask you to confirm or deny it." He wouldn't have necessarily believed him, either way. "But surely you must understand the ripples such a suggestion might elicit in our Faithless state. If such a thing were true, I cannot fathom what that would mean for Kalzasi... for Karnor entire..." He trailed off, uncertain what further to say on the matter as he gauged Talon's response with great care.

[Talon]

“Interesting.” Talon brought his hands to rest at the small of his back. He fixed his eyes upon Brenner. He knew exactly what the man was dancing around. It confirmed for Talon the notion that news of what he was had spread beyond the borders of Kalzasi. In truth, he and his family knew that it would only be a matter of time. It did not matter whether this one man believed it to be true or not. It did not matter that there would be those who remained skeptical. Gone were the ancient days when gods roamed the lands openly, freely consorting with mortals, changing their destinies with a mere breath. The Sundering had changed all of that.

As the days had passed, Talon had been trying to hide it less and less. In his homeland, that was something that could be gauged. It was something that he could accomplish safely over time. He had not been certain whether it was something he should reveal more openly. He certainly was not in a position where it was remotely safe to do so in Zaichaer. Again, the teachings of New Atheism and the Brass City’s interpretation of those teachings, popped into his head.

“Zaichaer is not as faithless as you think. Which brings me to a rather fascinating philosophical subject; what is faith?” Talon looked out over the city once more. In the back of his mind he could very clearly hear those still crying out for Justice. When he allowed some of those cries to come to the forefront, he could discern what they wanted. Some of those that spoke to him the loudest were those begging the heavens for recompense for the loss of those they loved. Not far into the West End, Talon saw the spark of a woman whose rage and anger at Zaichaer itself stemmed from the wrongful persecution of her husband. Not far from there, Talon saw others who felt similar. People who were forced to live in fear. People who could not afford to leave their homeland but who did not have the power, alone, to change it.

“Faith, in its simplest definition is just a belief in something. You do not need to believe in a god to have faith. Do you believe Zaichaer can weather the challenges ahead of it? Do you believe that you have it within yourself to rise to those challenges? Your country is expanding its scientific endeavors, Commander. Among other things. From what I understand, it does not entirely have all the resources to meet the demands of those projects. But other places do. You believe your country can push ahead in spite of this obstacle?” Talon arched an eyebrow. His questions were rhetorical but he trusted that they had the desired effect. Nevertheless, he gave the man the opportunity to answer them if he so chose.

“Gods are real, Commander. Whether Zaichaeri choose to have faith in them is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Mortals have faith in their ideals and it is those ideals that give a god its strength.” Talon reached down, grabbing his shirt. The material was designed in a way much different from Brenner’s. It was a common, plain linen but instead of a pullover, it was made to be donned in a fashion one might put on a sash. Talon crossed it over his torso, covering the markings upon his body. He tied the shirt in place so that it would not fall off, leaving only the markings on his hands and upon his face visible.

“Ask yourself this, Commander. If the rumors about me are true, would it change what you believe?”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"I was speaking in broad terms." Brenner retorted as a flicker of annoyance flashed across his typically well-managed countenance. Perhaps it was the hour or the inebriation, but probably both mixed with a sense of relative ease he'd accrued over the course of the time he'd spend in Talon's company. 'Ease' might have been too generous a term, but given all the cards the prince had stacked against him, Brenner had been pleasantly surprised enough to let his guard down after a few shots of schnapps and with no bystanders in earshot.

"Like most enlightened New Atheists, I do not argue that there are no gods and that there never have been- That would be foolish and willfully ignorant, when the marks of their existence lie all around us. Yes, many believe that none still survive, but not I. I was raised with the belief that the creatures your ilk call 'gods' are beyond the concerns of mere mortals. That they are impersonal beings who have evolved far beyond us and do not deign to mettle in our affairs anymore than we would concern ourselves with the daily goings on in an anthill." He smirked slightly,

"In a way, I might argue that our beliefs are actually more respectful of these beings. We would not insult their grandeur by praying at them- begging them to insert their might into our meagre lives." He tilted his head, considering the broader philosophical questions Talon was broaching.

"As for the matter of 'faith', of course Zaichaer is not faithless in those terms. I was being, perhaps, reductive as to how I thought you might perceive us as the son and heir of a, presumably, 'gods-anointed' sovereign..." Brenner made no bones about his ignorance of how Kalzasern succession went. He was new to diplomacy, and his education had been heavily propagandised in its focus.

"Yes." Brenner nodded, firmly. "I believe in the State." And he elected not to elaborate further on the rather bold assumptions Talon's verbiage insinuated.

"And, if the rumours about you are true, Highness, it would suggest to me that the deific equivalent of a child has elected to shake things up in your anthill. But it would be unscientific to accept one aberrant instance as the suggestion of a pattern. Still my eyes are open..." He inclined his head, and looked Talon up and down, appraisingly, " and, thus far, they remain merely rumours."

[Talon]

Talon observed as a flutter of annoyance presented itself in the weave of Brenner’s aura. He could only surmise in some way, he had struck a nerve. The Air Commander’s terse response was littered with the subtle truths that referenced what he really felt about both Talon and Kalzasi in general. It was disappointing in a way. There was a part of Talon, however small it might have been, that had hoped he could have shown the authorities of Zaichaer that the boogeymen they so feared were not to be feared at all, but befriended. Faced with the Commander’s response to his philosophical musings he realized just how wide the gap was between them.

“I do not argue that there are merits to the core foundational beliefs of New Atheism. In some ways, it is an admirable path to take in life. The fostering of a belief in one’s own ingenuity over the expectation that some savior from on high is going to swoop in, is something that can give scores of people great hope.” He had often considered the ways of New Atheism himself. The underlying philosophy of it rang true for Talon in many respects. It also coincided with some of his beliefs in the goddess Naori balanced with reverence for the Dragon King.

“But this is not a question as to whether New Atheism, Draconic Temples or Mistreic Cults are right or wrong or which is better. You asked me what I thought the consequences would be if the rumors about me are true with regard to a “Faithless” state.” Talon considered it. In truth, it was something that he thought on more often than he would have liked. He did not know what the far reaching consequences for House Novalys would be. In ages past, there were places in the world where demigods and even full gods had ruled as immortal kings. Talon was faced with the question of whether he even should step forth to be a contender for the throne. He was assumed to be the Heir of Kalzasi by virtue of past precedent and family legacy as much as internal politics. His position was that of a high ranking lord in practice with his title of “Prince” being more presumptive than indicative of his status.

The day would come when the role of Daizoku of the Diamond House of Kalzasi would fall to him. On that day, the Seven Highlords of the Kalzasi State would convene and choose the inheritor of the Kalzasern throne. Faced with the idea of a potentially immortal sovereign, would it even be morally right for him to accept the crown if he won it? The silence that followed his statement was perhaps answer enough but he chose to press on in spite of it.

“Children grow, Commander. They learn. They observe and one day their elders are faced with the truth that they do not remain children forever. For your sake and mine, perhaps it is better these rumors remain just rumors...for now.” Even faced with mere rumors, it was enough to draw both speculation and scrutiny. The truth would eventually come to light. For a place like Zaichaer, Talon would become even more of a walking antithesis for everything their government stood for. More importantly, it would be expected that Talon become a pseudo patron to Kalzasi as a whole. He was the Shokaze’s heir, to be and do anything less than that would not only wound his family but it would be seen as a potential abandonment of his people. That in turn could spark the notion that Kalzasi was vulnerable. It was a confusing and difficult position to be in but it was reality.

Or at least it would be.