Elevation. [Brenner]

[Eitan Angevin]

1st Searing, 121 Steel

Admiral Angevin was not in attendance, though many presumed his influence led to this brief ceremony aboard the Noble Gambit. Captain Angevin was present, Eitan's half-sister, and he supposed that was acknowledgment enough for the likes of him. Each show of indifference only made him redouble his efforts to excel and, if his father's influence did have a hand in this promotion, there were many who thought he deserved it on his own merit, young as he was. At twenty-five, Eitan Angevin was now XO of the Noble Gambit, and his captain said the words while pinning his new rank insignia onto his crisp dress uniform.

The captain saluted. Eitan saluted back, face impassive. But he had spoken to the man as soon as he returned from the field and was made aware of his promotion. While magic was anathema, he recognized the value of his XO being able to maintain the magic-negating wards upon their vessel. It seemed to him, at least, that a man bearing the Angevin name would be man enough to compartmentalize the corrupting nature of magic while using it for the good of Zaichaer. And so the heraldry of his uniform also boasted his rank as a Warden. He was an embodiment of the idea of fighting fire with fire. He was the embodiment of the ideal that Zaichaer's praxis could civilize the subhuman. He was a true believer.

He presented himself to the crew per his captain's command, as well to those notables present. There was a cheer, and he supposed he would find out who was in earnest soon enough. His family was important, but his ears had been cropped long ago. Some people were unaware of his mixed heritage. The Warden's badge sometimes inspired fear, but sometimes it quelled fear. He was someone who would protect them from the evils of magic. In any case, he had earned the trust of previous crews. He would do the same here. For Zaichaer. For his father.

The pomp was short-lived. Several of his new shipmates made his acquaintance. He tried to make a good first impression. Eventually, he caught the captain's eye and was beckoned away. He made polite noises to the knot of airmen seeking to get a read on their new XO, and attended his new captain. The man was giving his former XO one last order before he moved on to his captaincy, and then man smiled and called the crew back to business.

"Congratulations to you as well, Captain," Eitan said to the man he was replacing.

"And to you, Air Commander," he replied.

"You may have the night to yourself, Air Commander," his new captain said. "Report back at 05:00."

"Aye, Captain."

"Captain," Captain Angevin said to the former XO, "won't you join us for a drink?"

"Thank you, Captain."

"Captain."

"Captain."

The captains found this quite amusing, and why shouldn't they? Eitan smiled mildly. His captain left temporary command to the appropriate person in the chain of command and then Eitan accompanied the three captains from the airship to the quay to the officers' club where he shared a couple of rounds with his half-sister, his new captain, and his new captain's former XO. He said all the right things, of course, and deferred to all of them. Then the elder captains invited the newest into another parlor only open to those of their rank and above.

"I meant what I said," his captain reminded him with gruff good humor. "You've been in the field a long time. Enjoy yourself." He paused. "Make it 06:00 tomorrow."

"Make it 09:00," his half-sister interjected. "We will get the old man good and soused and he won't even know what time you show up."

The old man laughed, tugging his old XO along. "Fine, fine. 09:00, but I will find some exception with your uniform so you don't get the idea that I'm a soft touch."

As they pulled away, Eitan touched his half-sister's elbow. She turned, saw the look in his eye, and knew what he wanted to know.

"He's pleased enough," she said. "You know how he is. Do the family name proud and eventually he will come around." It was a kinder response than he was used to, and so he offered a tight smile and a brief nod in response.

"Thank you for coming," he said. She nodded and departed.

He gave the population of the club a more thorough look now that his attention wasn't upon his betters.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"...and then I schooled that bloody Pidge Prince on how things operate in Zaichaer!" Brenner was in the middle of holding court among a number of officers, mostly his juniors, but a few curious senior officers who had somehow escaped the harrowing tales he'd spent the past few weeks expositing about his foray as a diplomatic attache.

"I said: 'I don't know where you think you are, but you don't come into my family's factory and start ensorcelling the labourers!' and he gives me this half-arsed semblance of an apology, pun intended... get it? Semblance? Anyway, so he apologises for offering his 'Beneficence' because back home 'The Gifted' do things differently- Yes, he called mages 'The Gifted', as if the rest of us are just fucking stray dogs winding our way through a world that doesn't belong to us.

"So, I'm getting heated at this point, and I remind him that he isn't at home- He's somewhere that isn't a lawless hellscape, he's in fuckin' Zaichaer, boys!" Brenner lifted his ale stein and stomped his foot, "Hail Zaichaer!"

"Hail Zaichaer!" Replied all in earshot, as Brenner smirked and took a draft of his bitter and his eyes scanned the room and met a darker pair on a familiar face. "Angevin!" He called across the room, before looking to his little entourage. "Excuse me, boys, I've got to pay my dues to the man of the hour. I'll catch up with you later." He launched off the bar against which he'd been leaning and made his way toward his childhood friend (and occasional rival),

"Eitan Fuckin' Angevin." He said, clapping him on the shoulder with his free hand, "Second-in-Command of the Noble Gambit. Congratulations, mate. She's a quaint little skiff, and they picked the skinniest Air Commander in the fleet to be her XO so one of us who actually works out doesn't sink her from the sky." He chuckled, and shifted his weight back onto one heel, "Buy you a drink?"

[Eitan Angevin]

Somewhat bemused, he had taken in the obviously embellished story for a while before he was noticed. He had only arrived home the day previous and he had heard fragments of accounts, but everything had been jumbled up with the sudden advancement. His former captain had assured him he had put in for the promotion before they had left for the better part of Glade and his most recent accolades had only proven it justified. He didn't know if Brenner would give him a straight debriefing about it or not, but even though their childhood friendship had become more fraught with age, it was good to see him.

"Brenner Fecking Dornkirk," he replied drily, punching him in the chest chummily. "If she's riding low, it'll be from ferrying back the spoils of war to enrich Zaichaer's coffers. I'll happily eat my greens for the Fatherland." He smirked, but it softened slightly into something more like a smile.

"A drink would be most welcome. I'll have to catch you in here before you up and get promoted and leave this room behind for the captains' parlor, eh?" He paused. "I couldn't help but overhear you painting yourself the conquering hero, and I'm only newly returned from the field, but did I hear correctly? Did Stephan steal the Shinsei's pet man-dog or something...?" He laughed because Rathari were a mockery of manhood, worse than beasts for at least beasts knew their place, wild or domesticated.

He angled toward the bar, downing the dregs of his drink as they walked. Eitan aimed for a less populated stretch of bar, if only as a tactical maneuver. Their best days had been spent as unsupervised boys. When things grew rougher between them, Brenner had been less of a cock when his mates weren't about to impress. He didn't know what the present or the future held, but he was hedging his bets.

"Anyway, my dear half-sister is getting my new captain drunk enough I don't have to report until 09:00 tomorrow. So I ought to be good for a decent night."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Ah, don't tell me you've gone vegetarian on us! Your ears are liable to grow their tips back if you keep on such an Elfy diet, and that'd pair poorly with a fresh promotion. What're you drinking?" Typical Brenner to slide seamlessly from the provocative to the practical with little more than a catch breath between the two thoughts.

"Ugh!" He began as he claimed a stool and gestured for the barmaid to approach, "Well, thankfully Stefan had no hand in it, but yes- The pidge prince's pup was purloined from the pub." He sniggered at his own alliteration, and nodded to the barmaid. "Be a doll and fetch two of whatever Air Commander Angevin wants on my tab." He waved her off, and returned his attentions to Eitan,

"The fucked up bit that I don't often broach is the fact that I was at the pub when it happened. I just popped round the Red Dragon for a nightcap figuring I'd run into some of my mates, and whom do I sidle up next to? Fido himself. I'm still in the middle of the attaché gig and I don't want to make ripples, so I'm cordial as can be. I figure as long as he doesn't get any fur in my ale, I can choke down an innocuous chat. And that's about the extent of what I recall from that night." He lifted his brows for emphasis, glancing to the bartop as the fresh drinks were placed atop it.

"Not because I got too deep into my cups, Eitan, but because..." He pursed his lips, suddenly gravely serious. Conspiratorially, he leaned closer to whisper, "...I was ensorcelled, Eitan. The fuckers violated me. Gave me some sort of psychic instructions and..." His eyes took on a fierce intensity that riled the spectre of tears, before he shook it off and downed the remained of his ale and slammed the empty stein down next to the fresh drink.

"Honestly, mate, I wish you were there to do your..." Brenner made a vague, swirling gesture with one hand, "...do your thing. But anyway, I got into deep shit over that. I didn't remember what happened to me, and I had a very intense debrief with the secret police. Debrief is a kind word- Interrogation is what it was. So." He sighed and reached for one of the two glasses,

"Anyway, here's to you and your promotion. I'm glad you got it, but you're a dick for getting it a year younger than I was when I achieved the same."

[Eitan Angevin]

"Whatever Air Commander Dornkirk's been drinking, love," he said to the barmaid before turning his attention back to Brenner.

Eitan listened, a past master at reading between Brenner's lines, knowing some of his tells for when he was telling fact and when he was spinning fiction, even when the two got muddled. His reaction was a black rage. He slammed his hand down on the bar, not caring who glanced askance.

"And they didn't put him down on the spot?" he asked incredulously, assuming the Rathari vermin had been behind it, trying to cause a diplomatic incident. Well, perhaps the Rathari wasn't the Mesmer. Eitan didn't know how big the princeling's entourage was. A Warden would have looked Brenner over to be sure no damage was done, no unnatural twistings made in his mind. All the same, he gazed hard at his sometimes friend. He wanted to euthanize the Rathari with his bare hands, perhaps pausing long enough to sever it from its magic so it would suffer first.

But the drinks came and he took a deep breath, thanking the barmaid. He couldn't afford to lose his temper, couldn't afford to let elven emotionality override an Angevin's poise.

"Piss on him," he muttered. He sighed. He would have to refrain from asking too many questions if he had been questioned by the secret police. Promotion notwithstanding, it was above his pay grade to know. "Well, glad no harm came to you, then. Despite their nefarious plotting." He did wonder if he would hear anything about it from his fellow Wardens. Perhaps measures would need to be taken in future, perhaps shielding artefacts to protect the minds and bodies of their diplomatic corps. But that would have to be the conversations of another day.

He smiled ruefully.

"Aye, well. You know. I'll work myself into an early grave and every commendation will be because of my name, so..." He raised his glass. Drank. "Sorry, mate. Thank you. She seems a solid ship. I'll try not to crash her into a mountain."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner found himself surprised by Eitan's response to his admission. It wasn't something the elder Air Commander had intended to share- least of all so quickly after seeing the younger, but it had poured out. Brenner didn't really confide in anyone outside his family apart from Eitan. He may not have been delicate about the young Angevin's shame when they were in private, but he didn't make a thing of it in public. Beyond that, Eitan was someone who knew how to keep a secret, and the pair had their share that had remained vaulted long enough for Brenner to trust the mongrel more than he did most men.

"I don't think they were involved, actually. I saw His-... I saw the pidge prince when his pup was impounded, Eitan, and the fury-... It wasn't of this earth. I can't tell you why I know this, but those rumours about him? All true." Brenner knitted his brow and shook his head,

"The whole experience couldn't have been more..." He clammed up as soon as the barmaid drew into what he perceived to be earshot, and waited as she placed the drinks down and stepped back to the more crowded end of the bar.

"...Harrowing." He completed the thought finally, and gulped down some of the smooth, thick ale. Eitan seemed content to move on from that part of the conversation, and Brenner was happy to push these thoughts back down into the dungeons of his mind to be locked away with all the shames and regrets he'd accrued over the years he'd been alive. Back where such demons belonged, in his book.

"So, um... What kept you busy all Spring? They recalled the Searing Victory from her patrol for the New Years parade, and then I they didn't want us flying too far afield after the Tragic Events of Glade the 8th... After that I got the diplo assignment, and I've been pretty much grounded ever since."

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan frowned at the harrowing and the rumors. He was a New Atheist through and through; the idea of a foreign princeling gaining superhuman powers was troubling to say the least, especially if his rages threatened the security of Zaichaer when someone kicked his dog. It wasn't his place to ask too many questions, but he would certainly keep his ears open. It was every citizens duty to protect the city-state from enemies, foreign and domestic, and the mettle of Zaichaer's heroes wouldn't quaver in the face of a man with magically mutated wings.

Anyway, his own harrowing had been more of a marathon than the rage of a false god.

He raised a glass to Brenner's health and courage in the face of Zaichaer's foreign foes. Then, "We did a full circuit of the perimeter. A little action with pirates. Several stops at remote outposts, resupplying, playing courier with personal mail and reports. Kept me busy strengthening wards and defenses." He paused. Talk of magic was always uncomfortable, but then he brightened remembering a highlight. "We did capture a live reaver after one of the skirmishes. I was able to publicly sever her from her rune before her execution in the town square. 'Twas a lively night of carousing, I can tell you. The people felt much safer after our remediation. I only wish I got to keep her weapons as souvenirs. They say parts of their souls are trapped therein. 'Twould make a nice trophy, eh? Ah, but they were remanded to the Order for destruction or study or safekeeping. I can't be certain which. And it doesn't do to show too much interest, lest they think interest will lead to divergent thinking." He shrugged, just happy to have done his duty.

"In any case, I hope the Noble Gambit won't stray too far afield for a while. I'll do my duty, of course, but time spent in civilization reminds a man what he's fighting for."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner nodded approvingly at the story, rapping his fingers on the bartop absently.

"Ah, to be able to to sunder a blighted being from its affliction so." He sucked on his teeth, "I almost envy you that ability, Angevin." But that would have suggested Brenner coveted a magical ability, so he was sure to repeat: "...almost." for emphasis.

"In any event, it sounds like you've had your share of adventure whilst I was relegated to the duties of a glorified tour guide. You were doing the State's work, and I was putting out fires left and right to keep us from looking incompetent in front of people who openly detest us and flaunt our ways with wanton abandon." He snarled, at certain memories.

"I feel for the Common Man of Kalzasi, Eitan. I truly do." His fingers found their way to the handle of his stein, and clenched about it. "For I have seen their leaders close at hand, and heard them speak in the language of supremacy. They, who bear the marks of beasts of the air and the field, look down on us as if we were the bestial ones... The lessers born to serve their whims.

"By the Empty Throne, you should see the way they bow and scrape before their prince as though he were some resurrected messiah from a mythic age. I worry that the symbology of it all may be even more dangerous than the creature itself... That it will lead weaker minds to the belief that the Age of Industry has been naught but a hiccough, and that a new epoch of sorcery is on the rise once more..." He trailed off.

"Zaichaer and the Imperium must ever strive toward the heights of knowledge and advancement, lest they prove right." He drew the ale to his lips for a swallow, and sighed.

"I was there... on a balcony above the pyre on Glade the 8th. It was like watching some old cautionary tale about the dangers of magic coming to life before my very eyes." He lowered his voice, "I fear we are none of us prepared for the war to come, but that the longer we wait to engage the enemy only grows more puissant."

[Eitan Angevin]

"If someone must bear the burden," he said, "it ought to be me. Considering."

He already struggled with the impurity of his blood, and so he understood why he had been chosen to hold the sorcerous power to negate sorcery. It was, to his mind, the same sort of bravery that a plague doctor showed, walking among the sick to ease their suffering. To want such powers was to walk the path toward the hierarchy of power that led the Avialae houses to dominate the poor people of Kalzasi. Of course, he and Brenner were of the same mind.

"You fulfilled your duty to the State as well. We must all do what needs must be done to keep the clockwork of progress moving." He paused to ruminate over a sip of his drink. Turning a frank gaze upon a man who knew him well, he offered this: "I may never have my father's approval, and I can understand why he would find me lacking. But I am no longer a boy. I will always strive for his approval because the striving is right. But what galvanizes me now is my own advancement, the better to take a hand in our defense. The Order must have greater plans to counter magical threats, but I will not know them until I have advanced. Until my placement means I need to know. But I have seen how the people in the wilds between the Free Cities are defenseless when we are not present, and you have seen how they can foment discord even here in our fair city. We must all set aside ego as best we are able to protect the defenseless and guard our city-state from those who would upend order to fuel their own idolatry."

Eitan paused. "There were times I envied you my father's approval, but in all honesty, I can see why you have it. I don't wish to be rivals. I think our goals are the same."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner cocked his head to one side, and really looked at Eitan for the first time that evening. He heard the humility permeating that sentiment, 'It ought to be me. Considering.'. He nodded slowly, recalling a fateful meeting with another State mage named Dreyfus. They'd had a chat at the shooting range, and Brenner had found himself uncomfortable with some of the beliefs Dreyfus felt comfortable sharing with a relative stranger about magic and mages. The conversation had haunted him a bit and given him deep concerns about the state of the Order. Hearing Eitan, Brenner found that he was consoled by the words of a true agent of progress who recognised his ability was not a 'Gift', as the demigod of Kalzasi had suggested, but rather a grim responsibility. A true state mage, in Brenner's opinion, wanted to destroy every other mage in existence until he was the last living magic user, and then he would fall upon his sword to end the curse of Kraft forever.

As Eitan spoke on, Brenner found that he was actually moved by his words. His blue eyes welled up with tears and he nodded along, pensively.

"We are arrows in the same quiver, my friend." Brenner said patting Eitan hard on the back. "It heartens me to hear that your ambitions are so selfless. I recently had to remind another member of the Order that there is a reason military work is called 'Service'. We are here to serve the glorious State. We strive for progress, not for glory. Glory is a dividend collateral to our goals, not central to them." He lifted his mug in Eitan's direction,

"Hail Zaichaer, Kamerad." He clinked his stein against its twin and chugged down the hearty ale.