Legend of Ransera

It took Æden little time for him to set to work on the task at hand. He read the dossier front to back — multiple times — and formal requests were sent to the sister Centuries comprised of Silver elves, but Æden knew his Golden choices because he had watched them, flew with them, and trained with them. He spent nearly a week of the two towards the earliest they could leave training with them, and at the end, he had picked his three. One woman and two men, a mirror of their Golden counterparts. They were of similar heights and builds, though elves tended towards slight and tall. Symmetry.

Atenos Val'Amat was his first choice, three days after his meeting with Sentinel Phocion. Two days later he had decided on Marsya Val'Cassian, and by the end of the week he had his third in mind, Cadmus Val'Auraia. Recommended by their superiors and vetted by Æden in person, it was the 24th of Glade when he found himself back underground and inside the Palatium Umbrarum. He carried with him the written list of his chosen guard. Dressed in his gilded armor once more, he stood out like a sore thumb in the shadowy Umbrium. His hair was loose this time, long and silver and a hallmark of his heritage that spilled over gold of his breastplate. The starborn wasted little time in navigating to Sentinel Phocion's office.

The ranking and setup of the Sentinels was an eternal curiosity of Æden, if only because it was so obviously and vastly different from the strict ranks of the Golden Guard. He was Principalus Val'Camillus, but the man he was to guard was Sentinel Phocion — no sign of his ranking within the Sentinels aside from the fact that he was clearly important enough to be sent as the diplomat to a foreign nation. It was also strange to him, though he was used to the fact, that Sentinels were referred to by their given names rather than their family names. He was proud of his family and their status, even if their status was elevated by his birth. To mask such associations was anathema to his personality.

He knocked on the door. He knew he didn’t have to come in person, and it was perhaps preferable that he didn’t, but he was there all the same.

"Enter." Phocion's voice was as a gentle breeze- An airy wisp that felt like it might have been inaudible were one not conscious focused upon listening for it. But the Principalus was actively listening, and upon entering he would find the Sentinel seated. He was slumped over his desk with his right cheek resting on its surface and his arms laying limply at either side of his mop of dark hair.

As Æden's footsteps drew closer, he languidly slid his arms back until his hands were at the edge of the desk. He gripped it lightly and used the purchase to straighten his torso and languidly lift his head.

"Salvē, Principalus." The Sentinel intoned breathily. "Would you care for some water?" He gestured to a silver setting that had been arranged to his right. A tray upon which a pitcher and overturned goblets had been set. They were clearly a matching set, with a simple complementary pattern engraved on each piece. It would have been symmetrical, but for one of the goblets being at Phocion's left side upright.

"The water is better down here." He noted and lifted his lonely goblet to his lips, tipping it back and letting its cool contents slide down his long, white neck.

"It has been just shy of a fortnight since last I saw you." He observed, as he placed the goblet back down. Silver eyes traveling down the length of the Platinum One and back up. Since last they'd met, word had come back from Kalzasi confirming that they would receive the Solunarian envoy. They had made it clear that it would likely be an intermediary, rather than their Queen Regent herself, who met with them, but that might be a boon. It was easier to impress underlings than their masters and underlings held sway. As long as their exchange was reported to the so-called 'Iron Queen', then the trip would be worthwhile in the eyes of the Sentinels.

"Have you come with questions, with news or, perhaps, both?"

"Sentinel."

Phocion was a baffling specimen of a Sentinel, perhaps made even more strange by such a position — or maybe he had always been like this, and it was simply exaggerated by his job. He briefly considered that he interrupted the man's nap. Æden did not answer the request, but walked over to the pitcher and poured water into the goblet for himself. He took a sip, and he could agree it was better in some sense, with a more obvious mineral taste that wasn't unpleasant. He stepped towards the center of the desk and slid the page across from it.

"I've chosen the guard." The list had their names and any runes of magic they held and little else. It was concise. Æden did not see the point in a grand description of their skill on Wyvern-back or with a blade in their hand because that was the baseline required of them. Their appearance, stature, and the overall mirroring of the guard was not really needed, either, because he had chosen them within those parameters and he knew he had done well. But it made sense to inform the Sentinel of who was to accompany him across the world.
"Do we still leave at the earliest?" He asked. The thirtieth was less than a week away, but there was little else he could do to prepare himself for a place he knew comparatively little about. It was something that he would have to experience for himself and adapt from there. All of the honor guard would have to do as much, but their actions reflected on him as much as his own behavior did, and if he was anything, he was certain in his decisions.

The moonborn Phocion watched in silence as the starborn Æden moved to serve himself.

“Ah, good.” Phocion accepted the offered missive and reviewed the names. None were particularly familiar to him. He hadn’t been keeping tabs on Æden as he went about his work. The Principalus had done nothing to rattle his faith, as yet, but since he’d offered the names in advance there was no reason not to vet them, so he resolved to do so.

“Yes, Principalus.” He nodded once, tracing his finger along the edges of the page. “We depart on the evening of the 30th. Shortly after we met, I received word from the Kalzasern court that we will be received by an intermediary. Apparently concerns about the war supersede matters of diplomacy. Understandable… but perhaps our efforts with their underlings will yield greater attention from their superiors.” He shrugged mildly, as if it didn’t matter in the least. There were many diplomats who would take great offence to such a slight, but Phocion was a realist. He knew how little was known of Solunarium that far abroad. That was by design. They’d been a cagey lot for millennia, so it would hardly be sensible to expect a warm ceremonial welcome from a realm they’d so long neglected.

“My mount is more efficient in divine moonlight than under the grace of the blessed sun, so we shall travel by night and camp by day.” Wyverns, he knew, we’re not particular about the time of day, but it would be best to warn the guardspersons, so they could acclimate themselves accordingly for the arduous journey ahead.

“I expect we will be joined for most of the journey by the contingent who has been assigned to treat with the officials of Zaichaer. Our informants have indicated there is a human supremacist culture, and so that envoy will consist primarily of Men.” He said as much with no apparent judgement in his tone or on his expression.

Æden sat down in the same chair he had sat in before with the goblet in hand. He took another sip as Sentinel Phocion spoke. It was a bit disappointing that Queen Sahfri wouldn't be meeting with them directly. Whatever intermediary would hopefully be easier to impress and easier to read than the woman who managed to take power from the city-state amidst their tragedy. He knew some about Kalzasi from the dossier he was given, but he knew near nothing about Zaichaer aside from their militarized government. It was similar to Solunarium in some respects, where the military also acted as the constabulary, but he was not one of the Imperialis Vigilia and the day to day lawkeeping was not in his list of duties.

"Travelling at night will not be an issue for us," He started, placing the goblet on the desk. Most of their traveling companions would be either human or golden elves, though, and they could not see in the dark. Most of that issue would be remedied by moonlight and the safety of group travel, but it provided enough of a concern that Æden knew he would have to address it with the guard to ensure they were confident in their abilities. They did train at night, especially in the high heat of Searing where the sunset brought in the cool air.

He nodded as the sentinel explained the other contingent they would be travelling with. It made sense that they would travel together until they reached Karnor; half of Ecith and a number of other countries stood in the way before they even reached that northern region.

"When do you expect we reach Kalzasi?" He held his hand on the goblet, though he wasn't reaching to drink from it as much as to just touch the stem with gloved hands. He watched the Sentinel, who wasn't nearly as fidgety as he was their first meeting. "Has the path been charted yet?"

"Of course." Phocion waved a dismissive hand, unconcerned as he was about the matter of travel by night. It was a personal preference as well as a practical one, but he was pleased to be able to use his steed as a rationale rather than seeming prissy himself.

"I expect we shall reach Kalzasi in five days' time. We shall part with the other envoy after camping on the third day, and we'll take an easterly route North to skirt around Zaichaer-influenced territory. There is no need to broadcast that we are treating with both sides of their conflict." He chuckled at the last question.

"Since the days of Aværys, Light and Fire Be His, has the globe been charted by your forebears of the Praeventores, but you'll be comforted to know our Sentinels in the field have kept things up-to-date." Solunarium may have been isolationist, but that meant they had to keep tabs on the rest of the world, lest interlopers surprise them with unwelcome encroachments.

Phocion would sit with Æden and answer any further questions he might have, but the next time they would see each other would be at the gathering place on the evening of the 30th.

Kenofer Avenarius was the first to arrive at the site- a flat outcropping along the Eastern slope of Mount Sorokyn. Clad in a thick, black cloak that was too heavy for a desert dusk, but would offer welcome warmth when he broached the clouds, he minded his mount- A glorious, gold-feathered roc with a sharp, curved black beak and wise old eyes. Kenofer was a member of the human patrician caste and the son of a senator, but none of that was broadcast in his current role: Sentinel Kenofer.

Others began to gather. Kenofer's complement was similarly proportioned to Phocion's, though the former was joined by an attache in addition to his honour guard. Additionally, as the elven Sentinel had mentioned, Kenofer's company (with the notable exception of his sunborn attache) were human. As they congregated on the mount, it seemed the vast majority of the party were wyvern-riders. In fact Sentinel Kenofer was the only one who deviated from that pattern- at least until Phocion finally arrived.

The moonborn Sentinel was the last to appear, descending from the night sky astride a creature seen more often in the Umbrium than aboveground: A chiroptera. Phocion's steed looked to be a massive bat with white fur and beady black eyes that shone in the moonlight with curiosity.
The supplies for their journey were already prepared and loaded into packs and saddlebags, so Phocion did not even bother to dismount. Calling instead for the others to take to their steeds.

"Mount up! We ride apace!" It was as loudly as Æden had ever heard the Sentinel speak. It seemed he could project after all, when he troubled himself to.

Æden arrived in the middling numbers with his own wyvern. He noticed and acknowledged the other Sentinel and his roc, but he otherwise paid little attention to him, instead focusing on his own. The scaled desert serpent was not particularly different from the other wyverns in any way, from the span of his wings to the tip of his scorpion-like tail, but he was proud of his mount and the service it allowed him to do for Solunarium. He was armored, but also cloaked, and in the unobscured moonlight that reached their waiting site the pieces of plate that were visible gleamed along with the rest of the honor guard decked in similar attire. The silver half were suited towards night-time travel, what with their luminescent eyes and keen night-vision, a trait shared by Æden. The golden half, and furthermore the humans, were not so gifted, but there was enough light provided from the moons in the sky that he hoped any issue not addressed by nighttime practice would be easily remedied.

One gauntleted hand was running along the neck of his wyvern when Phocion appeared. His mount was far more dramatic than the man had ever portrayed himself, but of course Æden knew little about the Sentinel. He knew more that this was on purpose. Æden mounted his wyvern at the Sentinel's command, and soon the sound of many beating wings filled the air. He was one of the first off the ground, but not by much. Æden put himself near to Sentinel Phocion, and the rest of the Praeventores assumed their own positions in flight. If they were going to be flying for five days, the starborn was going to make conversation. He called out to Phocion,

"And I thought it was only the Guard that liked to show off! How far have you flown on the back of that bat, Sentinel?"

There was something vulnerable in the face of the great bat. Though it was the largest of the creatures present, its mammalian face seemed more expressive than the bird or the reptiles and, in that visage, there was a fragility that seemed not unlike its rider's.

As the others assumed positions astride their respective mounts, Phocion made a clicking sound and patted the broad neck of his chiroptera with his palm. Intoning in Vastian:

"Vadē, Noxala, ad caelum!" (Go, Noxala, take wing!)

The great beast obliged, crawling rapidly toward the edge of the mesa and vaulting off to spread her wings and take flight. The impressive wingspan cast a great shadow over the twighlit Luxium below, and audible reactions to the airborne convoy could be heard from below- even at this distance. It was not every day that the citizens of Solunarium bore witness to a flight of great beasts. Phocion took the lead, and guided the company to the West. They would avoid the harsher winds of the mountain range and journey toward the Ecithian Commonwealth before cutting North to cross the Crystal Sea.

At the sound of the Principalus' voice calling out over the rushing winds, Phocion lilted his head and, seemingly in sync with the gesture, Noxala tilted her head in his direction as well, though her course remained arrow straight. Two sets of eyes, silver white and midnight black, regarded the Platinum Elf.

"We are both of us creatures of the Umbrium!" He called out in reply. He seemed neither amused nor offended at the notion that he was a show-off for his choice of mount. "It is safe to say that Noxala and I have not travelled so far together as we shall these next few days!" Even when his voice was raised, it did not sound strained. It was controlled and unbreaking- bereft of rasp or grit- it was full-chested and smooth as the winds they sailed.

Æden regarded the bat's large black eyes. Noxala. His own wyvern was named Sandworm for the way it rolled in the sand when it was still a hatchling, and if permitted free range on a dune he would roll in it. The name was sillier than the Vastian for "night wing", but the wyvern was a reliable creature. It was why the Praeventores used them. He could only hope that the giant bat would be able to fly such great distance over five days without tiring of carrying someone, no matter how slight they were.

"Have you ever left Solunarium before?" He called back, seemingly satisfied with the responses given by Phocion. They had agents all over the world, of course, but he had no idea if the Sentinel had ever been one of them. He knew he would be unprepared for the colder north, even with his heavy plate. In fact, it was likely that it was because of how frequently he braved the sun in layers of metal that would make him feel all the more chilly in Kalzasi's Glade.

Flight was going to be a boon over the water, though unlike a ship or even an airship, neither beast nor man could rest above the sea. They would have to make the trip in one go, and at night, and hope for clear skies. Rain was a rarity in the desert, and he felt that winds seemed even stronger over the open water. Still he was taking the lead of the two Sentinels. Æden relaxed atop the great big beast.. They didn't have much to worry about right now, and the sky seemed clear and forgiving. He allowed one hand to stray and touch Sandworm's scaly side as the beast flew, though he could not feel the scales through his gauntlets.

"Never..." The timbre of Phocion's voice weakened now, so that Æden would have to strain to hear it over the winds that rushed by as they soared the Solunarian skies. There was weight to that monosyllabic response. He was not cavalier about this journey nor the mission that brought it about. This trek would represent more variables than, perhaps, he'd ever known. The script for this trip was a loose one and, as much as he was confounded by the predictability of his lot, when faced with the Great Unknown ahead, he was frightened. He was briefed on, but not practised in the ways of the foreigners with whom they were to treat.

"...have you?" It was only a beat between his reply and the reflection back of the same question to the asker, but that moment had hung pendulously enough that Æden might have gleaned a bit of Phocion's vulnerability.

The Sentinel knew that the Praeventores were perhaps just as likely to leave Atraxian borders as members of his own order- perhaps more so. It was not uncommon for Æden's branch of the Golden Guard to send forth scouts to perform reconnaissance and keep their records and maps up to date. They weren't likely to travel as far as Karnor, but they did patrol the borders of the desert and encroach upon the skies of some of their more immediate neighbours.

Their westerly journey would be a relatively smooth one. The beasts that stalked and roosted in the Zalkyr Mountains were not wont to attack the children of the ancient kingdom, as they did with non-natives. Still, it was best to give them a wide breadth and so Phocion navigated them far enough South of the mountains not to incur too much attention from them that dwelt in their midst.

Their first campsite would be on the edge of the desert, where the Atraxian Expanse met Greater Ecith and Phocion would bring them down to set up well before the Sun began to rise and supplant the moons as ruler of the skies.