Free [Brenner/Paragon]

[Florian]

FREE

10th of Glade, 121 Aos // The Presidium

It was difficult to tell if anxiety pervaded the atmosphere, or if Florian was simply that nervous. It had been less than a week since he and Brenner had discussed the possibility of him working directly under the new First Minister of State, and time had come to make the case for this arrangement. If it worked, Florian would be in a position to have the ear of Brenner Dornkirk, and with that, the possibility of better conditions for the nonhuman population of Zaichaer. The proposition had to be pitched, and he had to make the case for it, too.

Every preparation had been made to make Florian look less like a man scraped from a gutter in the Knob and more palatable. Nothing could be done about his myriad of scars and his missing arm, and it took a great deal of time to tame his mess of curly hair into something that resembled order. At the behest of Brenner, he had even made arrangements with the butler to have a suit tailored to fit him. It was certainly the nicest he had ever been dressed, even past the dress uniform he'd worn to Anton's debut.

It was especially stressful in that he was a criminal, a fugitive of the state, wanted for treason, desertion, and whatever else they had come up with and expanded in the name of the experimentation done on him. He hated the state for what it had done, but he had been swayed enough by Brenner's little speeches that he held some belief. A better life for himself and for the nonhumans who were by far housed in the East End and even more confined to the Knob, which was veritable mess of neighborhoods that saw his mother murdered without any findings in her case. How a woman could be murdered in her home with no results was almost certainly a result of the racism and classism that plagued the city.

Changing that, showing that he had someone important on his side, would be enough of a spit in the face of old blood that it was a vengeance all on its own.

He arrived with Brenner and let out a shaky exhale. "I'm making the case for my own freedom as well, no? I suppose if I don't do a good enough job they'll just execute me on the spot," He laughed, though he wasn't sure if it were much of a joke. "No pressure."

► Show Spoiler

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"You've cleaned up nicely." Brenner offered a wry smirk, though he was nervous too. He'd seen to it that the staff at Dornkirk Manor, which was currently serving as provisional lodging for Florian, would provide any clothing or tailoring needed to make certain the Lysanrin dressed appropriately for an audience with the most important person in Karnor.

"Mm." The newly minted First Minister did not join in the laughter at Florian's rather risque joke, instead his eyes darted about the ante room to see whether anyone else had heard and to gauge their responses if so.

"Please exercise a bit of caution in the presence of our Supreme Leader. Do not be overly familiar. You may refer to her as 'Your Esteemed Excellency', 'Glorious Leader' or, if you must refer to her by name, make certain to apply the title first: 'Grand Marshal Kelgarde'." He instructed in a sterner tone than Florian had heard from Brenner of late. "My offices are charged with diplomacy, so your ability to maintain decorum is definitely something that will be under review." He sighed, and softened almost apologetically.

"Do not speak before she addresses you directly. In all likelihood I will be doing the bulk of the talking which, as you are fond of reminding me, is where I thrive, but there's a good chance she'll want to hear from you as well. Just... Well, you've been through bootcamp- You know how to be formal. Actually it might be worth reminding Her Esteemed Excellency that you served, so it wouldn't be inappropriate for you to salute her." He paused and glanced to the stub where his right arm used to be, wincing.

"Belay that." He sighed, "Just... be formal, all right?" The creak of the door behind him caused Brenner to pivot sharply on his heel and straighten his back. He regarded the secretary with a nod and under his breath to Florian, he whispered:

"Here goes everything..." And conjured up a nervous smile to wear as they were led into the offices of the Grand Marshal of Zaichaer.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

“Her Esteemed Excellency will see you now.” The same crisply dressed officer from when the Grand Marshal had occupied the role of First Minister, ushered both Brenner and Florian into the office. For any who had heard of or knew the previous occupant of the Office of the Grand Marshal, Adrian Kane had been said to be a man who impressed greatly upon any who visited, the laurels of his past accomplishments. From walls of trophies and plaques of accolades, Grand Marshal Kane had been a man obsessed with being seen as the epitome of Zaichaer’s military elite. The Presidium had continuously been decorated as though it were preparing to be on parade. Contrasted with the stark, businesslike and almost clinical atmosphere that now pervaded the center of Zaichaer’s government, it was as though both Brenner and Florian were stepping into the heart of a machine.

The office was spacious. The walls were lined with books all bound in the same black and bronze colors with non-descript writing along the bindings. Interspersed between the bookshelves were various maps, each with their own notes upon them. The office was otherwise austere in its presentation. Much like the woman who was seated behind the same writing desk that had occupied her previous office.

Astrid Kelgarde did not look up as Brenner and Florian were escorted into her office. Her eyes were scanning one of many documents neatly arranged in front of her. Behind her were various ministers and assistants, each holding their own dossier of information undoubtedly awaiting her attention or having just received it. There was a single pitcher of water and a crystal clear glass half-filled with it within reach. The room was silent save for the ticking of a grandfather clock and the scratch of her pen upon a paper as she made various edits to the document in front of her. After a full minute of silence, she finished her writing, picked up the paper and extended it to one of the waiting assistants.

“You may leave.” Immediately the other ministers and assistants began filing out of the room. The Grand Marshal’s secretary gave a sharp salute, turned on her heel, and left with the others. Astrid continued to read another document in front of her before dipping her pen in ink and adding her signature to the bottom of it. She continued on reading for a moment longer before addressing the two in front of her.

“First Minister Dornkirk, I am glad to see that you are settling into your deserved position well.” Astrid paused in her reading, going over a sentence in front of her another time before crossing out a line and adding her own notes to it. She pressed on in her examination of the document.

“It is my understanding that you wish to speak with me regarding Florian Albrecht.” The Grand Marshal set down her pen. She sat up straight and pinned the both of them with her stare. Her expression was blank before her eyes turned to Florian.

“Private First Class. Previously assigned to the Noble Gambit. Subject to the assessment and experimentation at the hands of one, Doctor Phinneas Constantine. Fugitive of the State. Designated traitor by my predecessor following suspicion of defection.” Her words were spoken matter-of-factly without accusatory or sympathetic tones as she simply recited the information that had been made available to her.

“You were assigned to a sensitive operation under the direction of First Minister Dornkirk. The success of that mission is self-evident.” She let the statement hang in the air.

“Why did you return?” Her gaze was steady as she looked over Florian. Again, her words held no accusatory or sympathetic tone. By her posture she seemed almost curious.

[Florian]

Rare moments of silence passed from Florian as they entered the Office of the Grand Marshal. He was not particularly familiar with any part of it, let alone how the previous Grand Marshal had decorated, but the austerity of it all was distinctly unfamiliar for someone who had rarely been in environments like this. His eyes trailed along the books and the faces of the other people present, guessing internally at their purpose. It felt as though his heartbeat was louder than the ticking of the grandfather clock. He stood silently, without pacing, and though it was only a few minutes, it felt more akin to an eternity.

Florian remained impassive as she listed off the facts of his current state. The tumultuous recent history, listed so concisely despite the weight it held for him. It was odd having everything listed out. Designated traitor. Still he kept his face blank to match hers, and his errant thoughts were quashed so that he could focus on the matter at hand.

The fact that her first question was directed to him was nerve-wracking enough itself. But this was a meeting about him, and he could not have expected to do nothing but stand there and watch.

Florian met her eyes with his mercurial own, and swallowed his anxiety. Of all his thoughts, of every reason that could have influenced the decision to stay in Zaichaer, of every precaution that Brenner and Stefan had taken to protect themselves by insisting he came with them. Of his plans with Lyra, his resentment for the state, his complicated history. The death of his mother and the lackadaisical handling of her murder. For every painful, negative feeling he harbored for the state of Zaichaer, for every positive feeling her harbored for people within it, Florian plucked the one response that had nothing to do with anyone else, the true feeling of Zaichaer at the center of it all. Why he hoped it would get better, and why the wheels of fate had turned so he could not abandon it so easily. He was not trying to appeal to her sympathies, if she had any, and his tone matched.

"Your Esteemed Excellency, this is my home."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner glanced up sharply to the Grand Marshal’s attendant and offered a faint cordial smile of recognition. Though none was returned, he inclined his head by way of a greeting, and cast a warning glance to Florian- “Behave!” His glower pleaded. With that, he followed the attendant into the office and marched forth until he was only a few paces from the desk, at which point he clicked the heels of his boots and saluted- remaining in that position until he was directly addressed. At that point, he softened to an ‘at ease’ stance.

“Thank you, Esteemed Excellency. That is affirmative.” Florian would likely be surprised when Brenner’s jaw snapped shut and he spoke no further. The First Minister was well known for a politician’s prolixity. It had very probably contributed to his being assigned to his current post, but being a natural politician he also knew when to defer to his superiors and this was clearly such a case. As far as Brenner was concerned, Grand Marshal Astrid Kelgarde was the pinnacle of Zaichaeri excellence. How could she not be? She’d earned her place at the tip of the hierarchical pyramid. She had the power and influence to supplant her stagnating predecessor. He’d not have openly espoused his criticism of Adrian Kane prior to the coup that toppled his regime, but it was a relief to find he was not alone in his doubts when the notion of a coup came to his attention. If there was no other complaint, the fact that Glade the 8th had taken place under his supervision was enough for Brenner. The Order had descended into recklessness and that was incredibly dangerous. He had confidence that their new glorious leader would attend to these affairs and the many more that had deteriorated under her predecessor.

His face remained forward but his eyes snapped to Florian at his side when a pointed question was posed to the Lysanrin. A vein in his neck protruded with tension- the only visible outward display of his nervousness. His lips parted slightly to release a silent sigh of relief and his eyes snapped forward once more.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

“So it is.” The Grand Marshal eyed Florian for a moment longer. She laced the fingers of her hands together as she seemed to reach some conclusion..


“I understand that there has been a request to see Private Albrecht assigned to the Office of Domestic Relations…Hmm.” She tapped one of her fingers in thought. “As you know, the assignments of all military posts across our nation ultimately must be catered to the needs of our country. An experienced soldier with a knack for survival and uncanny ability to persevere in the face of impossible odds?”

The woman canted her head, what followed was merely a statement of the obvious conclusion of the country’s current circumstances.

“A Lysanrin soldier who is known to be adept at counteracting the effects of aether manipulation. Just as we are preparing to defend ourselves against a state entrenched in the utilization of such practices?” She quirked a brow.

“That seems…an inappropriate assignment. For said soldier.” Picking up her pen, Astrid Kelgarde dipped it into her ink and began writing on a fresh sheet of paper. Without looking up, she spoke as she wrote.

“Your request to have Private Albrecht reassigned to said post is denied, First Minister.” She dipped her pen back into the inkwell and continued writing.

“Private Albrecht, you are henceforth discharged from active service. Effectively immediately.” She signed the bottom of the paper, picked it up and extended it to Brenner.

“I do believe the hiring of civilians into State positions is the responsibility of your office, First Minister.”

[Florian]

Florian's fingers dug into his palm as the Grand Marshal spoke. She didn't really give away anything by her movement, nor what conclusion she reached from that simple question. Whatever it was, he did not have to wait long for her to start speaking. He tilted his own head a hair's breadth to the side as she spoke. It was awkward, almost uncomfortable to have himself complimented, even if it were stated so matter-of-factly. It was especially so by the most powerful person in Zaichaer, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out where exactly she was leading with those statements.

He felt his heart stop when she denied his request. When Lyra installed him the new arm, he could have done his job in the ZADC, but...he did not have time to finish that train of thought when Grand Marshal Kelgarde immediately discharged him. Florian felt a wave of relief as what had just happened started to settle in. He now dared to move his head and looked at Brenner, gauging his expression, and then looked back at Kelgarde. He was sure they would have had to talk more. If it was really that simple, perhaps the new Grand Marshal had her own ideas. Or she trusted Brenner — she certainly was aware that Florian knew too much, though he didn't know how much Brenner and Kelgarde had spoken of the matter before he was brought in himself. He knew nothing about the woman other than what he could gather from the environment, but if she was anything, it was clear she was efficient.

"Thank you, Esteemed Excellency." Florian mimicked what Brenner had said earlier, and then went quiet again. It was an altogether strange emotion he felt, almost akin to opening a book that was both new and familiar, unaware of what was going to be on the pages but aware of the themes that he wanted them to take.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner blinked, and set his jaw. Like Florian, he initially took the denial of his request at face value and his heart sank. Had he made an unwise gambit here sticking his neck out for the Lysanrin? Before he had a chance to ponder his regrets, the Grand Marshal's clarifying thoughts led him to release a quiet sigh of relief.

"Quite right, Esteemed Excellency." He inclined his head to her before tipping his face at an angle to regard Florian. "And congratulations on your new posting, Undersecretary Albrecht." He cast a wink to the Lysanrin, before returning his attention to their glorious leader.

"Now..." He slipped his hand into a jacket pocket and withdrew a piece of paper, which he began to unfold. "Whilst we are on the subject of 'Domestic Relations' and I have Your Excellency's attention, there is another matter I wished to broach." Passing the paper cutting across the desk, he inquired:

"Are you familiar with the so-called 'Knob Free Press'?" He glanced down to the article he'd handed to the Grand Marshal, with its title reading: "The Prince of Light's Dark Wedding".

"It is a new outfit. A friend of mine sent me a copy of their first publication and highlighted this rather brazen excerpt in particular, which counters Your Excellency's official position on what transpired during the recent reception incident in Kalzasi." He pursed his lips, and glanced over the Grand Marshal's shoulder to the window overlooking the Presidium beyond.

"I know Her Excellency is as aware as I of the importance of maintaining tight control of the narrative- Especially during the precarious early days of a new regime, such as ours. So..." He glanced again to the paper in her hands.

"Is this something that you would like me to have handled?" He paused a beat, "And, lest you worry that my interest in this matter is entirely personal, please know that since this was published I have been receiving fan mail from diehard patriots who prefer to believe that I participated."

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

Grand Marshal Astrid Kelgarde had a reputation for being rather stone faced in most circumstances. She did little to outwardly indicate her thoughts on any given matter. As Brenner handed her the slip of newspaper and she read through the column, however, an amused smile played across her lips.

“You are dismissed, Undersecretary Albrecht.” She did not glance up from the paper as her eyes scanned the page. It was only when Florian had exited the room that Astrid spoke.

“A lesson, First Minister, in playing the game of global politics.” The woman rose from her desk and went to the window overlooking the Presidium. She thumbed the newspaper clipping in her grasp thoughtfully.

“How do you control the thoughts of the masses without them ever realizing they are being controlled?” She held up the newspaper clipping. “Information.”

“I could order that this press be shut down. That would be the obvious response to opinions contradictory to my official statements. That would only galvanize people who already are so inclined to disbelieve our position. It would also send these journalists and their informants even further underground. Making them harder to track. Harder to discover.” She turned to Brenner and quirked a brow at him. “Harder to discredit.”

“Let the press run their prints. Even more, secure the confidence of the information outlets. Woo them. Charm them. Bribe them. Create an atmosphere where it is in their interest to paint us in an affectionate light. Fear would create silence. It would create a vacuum where the only voice heard would be ours. It would make it easy for our enemies to say we are suppressing the so-called truth. Don’t create silence, First Minister. Redirect the conversation.” She returned to gazing out the window, her eyes scanning over the skyline of the city.

“On to more important matters.” She continued to thumb the newspaper clipping. “Talon was never delivered to our facility.”

Her expression darkened.

“More specifically, the facility where he was to be held was destroyed and its handlers slaughtered.”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Congratulations, Undersecretary Albrecht. You've made history this day." Brenner cast a dashing smile to the first Lysanrin appointed to higher office in the history of Zaichaer. "Wait for me at the state department offices. The great work continues." He winked, before returning his attention to the Grand Marshal.

His expression remained stoic as she waxed didactic. He realised during her ensuing reply that there were ways in which Grand Marshal Kelgarde reminded him of his own mother. The poise of her presence, the default toward aloofness, even the way she framed her reply as pedagogy. Why, he'd even learnt his own brand of aloofness from Lady Sylana.

"This is why I brought the matter to Your Excellency's attention." He replied, adopting the faintest of smiles, "Then I shall handle the matter with a velvet glove rather than an iron fist." He hadn't, after all, offered his own opinion on how he might wish to handle the matter. There were things he rather liked about the way the article had highlighted his actions, and there was part of him that didn't fancy the State sanctioned pretext. He understood the reasoning and its necessity as regarding relations abroad, but here at home it split the opinion. One of the reasons he'd highlighted the fan letters was that the article had actually served to give the public the benefit of the doubt as to whether he'd helped or hurt Kalzasi. Moreover, it freed him up to broaden that gap by slipping dog whistles into his public addresses that would stoke the die-hards who would be so pivotal to the impending war effort.

These internal reveries were stalled abruptly as the Grand Marshal delivered the news about Talon. He blinked, a momentary crack in the air of aloofness, as a silent moment hung between them before he said:

"Our facility? When you introduced me to our allies in advance of my trip to Kalzasi I was under the impression that the demiurge was to be conducted to their facilities, not ours..." Perhaps plans had shifted during his journey North, "But in any event, that is supremely troubling for Zaichaer." To say nothing of Brenner himself, who had set himself up as direct archnemesis to a demigod. His collar felt tighter at the very notion.