AVDENTES FORTVNA IVVAT

[Pharaoh]

Continued from The Affairs of Dragons

"Such lofty causes are greater than you or I." Phocion sighed, as he conjured the temperate aura once more to shield them against the greater heat outside this cavernous oasis from the severity that permeated through the tunnels they'd taken to get here.

"Between our private archives and those of the Archivum Imperialis, we should have a fair... treasure trove of knowledge available to us." He'd thought to say dragon's hoard in lieu of treasure trove, but reconsidered in case they were still listening.

"And, if the progenitor of my line was indeed involved in all of this, then the High Sentinel may have Phædryn family records to contribute to the cause." And if the Crownwyrm said as much, Phocion had no cause for doubt. The dragons were the only citizens of Solunarium who'd been around in those remote times. It occurred to him that Zalkyriax must have been personally acquainted with Phædryn himself, as well as the Founders.

He arched his brow at Hilana's response to his more personal question.

"Yes... I recall you were on that mission under Raithen Dux."

But Phocion needn't practise Semblance to read between those lines. It was a very tactful way of saying she was an upjumped shopgirl.

"Well." He pursed his lips, "The Founders were slaves ere they were gods. One never knows from whence the tides of sea change might originate. I wonder... were you ever assessed for arcane potency by the Vigilia Argenti?" If so, he resolved to locate and review the report upon his return to the Prætorium.

At her question for him, Phocion glanced sidelong, but replied matter-of-factly:

"I am a Master Pyromancer and a Grandmaster Kineticist of the highest order." And left it at that. He would lead them back the way they came. "Do you wish to return home to rest when we reach the Umbrium? These past few days have surely been taxing for one such as you." He wondered if, perhaps, her concerns over his abilities were a projection born of her own exhaustion. It would certainly stand to reason in his mind.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Well, he was right about that. What was going on was far greater than the two of them, well, than any of them, really... especially if it meant that the Founders would be returning and Arcas was somehow involved. These were interesting times, and while Hilana could understand why Princes and Royals would be involved... she was an element of surprise, at least. All the same, the girl was happy to be of service. If you stayed comfortable your whole life, what did you ever really learn or experience? The Vastiana nodded at his words. The Vigilis Argenti’s archives, the Archivum Imperialis, and Phaedryn familial records... there was going to be a lot to go through. She did not mind; there was bound to be a needle in the haystack somewhere. And they would find it. Chances were such that she might have been the only Vastii to ever go through some of them. Still, they were going to be the first to come back from the Thalamum Draconum and tell the tale, and that was the biggest, most terrifying hurdle yet.

She smiled when he mentioned Raithen and the mission, and she nodded in confirmation. That was the one. Upjumped shopgirl though she may have been, Hilana wasn’t worried about it. All one could do was keep striving to improve and do the best they could with the cards that they were dealt. She wasn’t so stupid as to miss his meaning there; but she also wasn’t inclined to give herself airs or illusions about herself or her status. “A grain of sand can tip a scale,” she agreed. When he was done with the water and almonds, she would have some herself before they went back into her pack and she was certainly ready to keep going, her hands on the straps of her rucksack. The girl was suspiciously quiet for a moment about that question regarding aetheric potential. “No,” she said finally. “I was not. My father arranged for it a few times and I was just never where I was supposed to be for it.” Which was probably opening her up for further questioning, and it was probably going to bite her now, but so be it. Hilana could own it.

When he assured her of his status as Master and Grandmaster, Hilana knew that that was his way of saying that he was fine. She just nodded and didn’t pursue it further. He knew from the other day she had draughts that could help with restoring one’s aether reserves; if he wanted any, he would surely let her know. She walked along beside him, nodding along to herself as they retraced their steps, cementing the way they had come in her memory. Though when he suggested she might be tired considering the last few days, Hilana blinked as if a bit surprised by the question, and offered a smile. “No, Your Highness, thank you. I am quite ready and happy to continue.”

There was a lot to do with not a lot of time to do it all in, and while his brothers were used to her toddler-on-sugar-cookies energy... the nomad was trying very hard to keep that side of her away from Phocion and Cithaera and remain on her best behaviour around them. Though if they spent enough time with her, some of it was bound to slip through. Even with those skirts of hers, she was having no problems with the walk - if anything, it was easier without her tributes in her backpack. She could be faulted on many things, but being lazy was never going to be one of them. “Though I think I’m going to have to hold off on the bison for a while longer,” she seemed cheerful despite that disappointment. “It wouldn’t fit down the way we came, and trying to keep it from roasting alive would take a bit of work, wouldn’t it?”

[Pharaoh]

"You're just full of folksy aphorisms, aren't you?" Phocion observed, returning the offered nuts and water without availing himself of either. Phocion was very exacting about his dietary regimen. Like his mother, the Sentinel ate more for sustenance than for pleasure, and so he tended to eat the same things at the same times in a rigid routine interspersed with periods of fasting. He was in one of those just now and, though he could drink water, he'd brought his own and simply wasn't thirsty at the moment. He didn't seem offended by the offer, but neither did he verbally offer excuses for why he declined, feeling no reason to do so.

"That is an oversight on our part as much as your father's." Phocion replied with a grimace. He would look for the records regardless to see whose error it was and whether there was a pragmatic explanation for the dereliction of duty.

"I beg you pardon, but pray hush a moment, I must concentrate..." The Sentinel instructed, then shifted his head to one side casting his thoughts through the stone to find the High Sentinel.

Mother, he projected, we treated with the Crownwyrm himself. He's taken Arvælyn deeper into the chamber to conduct the ritual and expounded a bit upon the Vastiana's task. We shall have need of scholars with expertise on the Rending and the subsequent epoch.

Acknowledged, Phocion. I shall instruct Valæra to have them sent to your offices at the Prætorium.

"All right. If you've the energy, we'll make directly for the Prætorium Argentum once we emerge. I've summoned sages to meet us there who might be able to elaborate on the matters raised by His Exalted Majesty." He explained. It was likely not obvious to the Vastiana that he was communing with his mother during his silence, via his Re'hyæan gift, but again he didn't feel obliged to explain how he'd arranged a meeting during their solitary trek.

As for the talk of bison, he merely sighed and intoned:

"That... seems wise." As he led the uphill until, eventually, the silvery lights of the Umbrium came into view.

[Hilana Chenzira]

She only grinned when he commented that she was full of folksy sayings, and inclined her head. She wasn’t sure if there was an implied suggestion to keep her mouth shut if she had nothing useful to say, but she had half a feeling that there was. She didn’t want to exasperate him, either. Hilana knew full well that she could be one that tried someone’s patience if they weren’t somewhat relaxed; and with as many demands on his time as he had, she had to at least try to make it seem like she wasn’t in need of being babysat.

When he grimaced, Hilana just looked on at the path before them, quiet. Some part of her was curious about what a report with her name on it said; but she already knew full well the end result. Incomplete, untested. She was rarely home for more than a day or two between the ages of four and ten, and even then, when she was easier to manage…maintaining the unspoken family secret about her unpredictable behaviour was preferred in hopes that she would, in fact, calm down and be able to come home. Then she could be enrolled in a proper school as befitted her family’s status and be tested, taught, and trained. There were a handful of attempts made to have her tested between the ages of 10 and 16, and she had made it a point to not be there. Each attempt shattered what little residual trust there was. Her guardians felt it was smarter to indirectly let her know rather than her losing trust in her head wolves, because Hilana held grudges, and that this way… she wouldn’t take off from her pack and go out alone. Knowing that she would be ripped from her chosen family and forced into the cities was reason enough for the girl to avoid it. It had happened often enough over the years, and she had lost enough friends that way that it had become a legitimate nightmare for her.

When he asked her to be quiet to let him concentrate, Hilana nodded. She couldn’t know why; she assumed that maybe he had sensed something and wanted to be able to focus on it. If it was important, he would probably tell her if it pertained to her. Otherwise, she was better off peeking at the dragonshards lining the cave’s walls and letting him focus. She should see if she could find a book on those, too. There were enough in the Umbrium that she should be able to find such a thing. Maybe there would be one she could get to help her be a friend to flame, as the Crownwyrm had put it. When he explained that help was coming for their endeavour, Hilana nodded. “Understood, Your Highness,” the girl was cheerful enough again. This was an exciting prospect. She didn’t know just how he had managed to arrange such a thing while they were waking up, as Phocion’s using the Re’hyaean gift hadn’t occurred to her at just that moment, but she was happy for it all the same. She made herself a promise that he wasn’t going to have to worry about her energy, but that was a bold promise to make before she even started her Elementalism lessons.

That solution was arguably better than setting Hilana to work with books and scrolls and tomes. Sure, she could make herself some strong teas or coffee and keep at it; and keep at it she would, but asking the experts themselves was certain to be far more effective. And with time being of the essence… when he only sighed about the bison, she knew that one had run its course and it was better left alone. But once they emerged from the cavern of the Thalamum Draconum, Hilana headed right for the Praetorium as per the Prince’s instructions.

[Pharaoh]

The walk to the Prætorium was shorter and less taxing than the uphill trudge from the depths of the Thalamum Draconum. Even with his tempering magic, the corridors were as warm as noontide in the desert and it was over an hour each way on rocky, uneven ground. The path to the Prætorium was flat and well trodden. The Sentinel wasn't particularly prolix, so he didn't really initiate conversation as they travelled, but he would offer functional, albeit terse, responses if the human girl initiated any.

By and by, they reached the Prætorium where they were greeted by helmed and veiled sentries in one of the more militant uniforms donned by Sentinels. While Phocion, Finn and Arry tended to wear simpler garments that were light and easy to move in, these sentries uniforms were more silver than black for the armoured accents that adorned the onyx base of their garb. Each held a glaive and nodded in unison at the approach of Sentinel Phocion.

"The girl is with me." He noted in Vallenor, receiving a sharp nod from the captain, and continuing into the halls of the Prætorium. The architecture and décor were austere by Solunarian standards. Although it was a much younger structure, it seemed to invoke similar style to the Temple of Midnight's Mother. The most striking sight that greeted guests upon entry was a row of huge onyx statues of muscular nude slaves kneeling in genuflection on either side of the hall.

Phocion led them between these gargantuan supplicants and up a grand staircase toward his own offices, where they would find one uniformed, veiled sentinel behind a desk and three black-robed figures seated on marble benches in the antechamber. Their garb suggested that they were clerics of Varvara.

"Ah, splendid." He said in Vastian, "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Sentinel Phalendyr, send for refreshments and have them brought in. Come along, then." He gestured for the sages to follow them into his inner sanctum, a dark somber room lit mostly by the artificial moonlight pouring in from the window the occupied the entire rear wall behind his desk. Phocion claimed the high-backed chair behind his obsidian desk, and gestured to the furniture across from him.

"Sit wherever you like. This is Miss Chenzira. She has been tasked with locating a relic lost to us during the Rending. Hilana, why don't you brief us on what you've been told thus far?"

[Hilana Chenzira]

It didn’t take much for her to figure out that Phocion was not as talkative as his brothers. Where Hilana might have spent the entire walk back happily chattering away at Raithen and Arvaelyn, she was much, much quieter with the Moonborn Prince. Part of it may well have been that they were still within the Thalamum Draconum, and there was a chance that the dragons may very well have still heard them. Another part was that she was repeating in her head, over and over and over, what the Crownwyrm had told her. And yet another part of it may have been that she was keeping track of their pathways, though she was largely satisfied with the route that they had taken up and down. Warm though it was, the girl was not bothered - Phocion’s shield protected them from the worst of it, and that was good enough for her. The hike was easier than some of the mountains she had climbed over as a child, and it was far less treacherous. Her bag was much lighter, and while she could only pray for Arvaelyn to get through whatever was bothering him, she was sure that he was safe amongst the Crownwyrm and his kin.

Where she had walked more or less beside him on the way out, once they were back in the Umbrium, Hilana fell back half a pace so as not to be seen as walking beside him. She knew better, especially now that others could see them. The temperature change once they left the Dragon chamber was somewhat welcome, even the girl could admit that. But the walk to the Praetorium was short. Hilana knew where it was, but since she had absolutely no business over in that corner of the Umbrium, she had felt that it was much wiser to avoid it. She may have been curious, but she wasn’t that curious. As such, this was her first real time seeing it up close. She had looked around that morning when she had headed to meet the Princess and her sons, but she had been somewhat preoccupied with other matters... like the gargantuan task ahead of them in the Thalamum Draconum.

She understood the simple words of Vallenor, and she kept her hands on her rucksack’s straps and stayed behind Phocion, bowing her head respectfully to the veiled sentinels with their glaives. Inside, though, she was quite interested. Her eyes were wide, taking in the onyx statues. Oh, glories. They did make sense, all things considered; knowing what history regarding the Order that she did. She accompanied him up the stairs, and saw the sentinel with the robed figures. Their attire was identical to those that she had seen in the Temple of Midnight’s Mother, and she smiled at them from behind the Prince, lowering her head to them as she had the sentinels that were outside. She followed them in, and when Phocion encouraged them to take a seat, she found one near enough to the desk and sat down, pulling a notebook and pencil out of the rucksack, setting it down beside her, apparently ready to take notes.

Once he introduced her, Hilana smiled at the sages. “Good morning. I have been tasked with finding the location of the Zalkyrian Horn,” Hilana began. “As we have been given to understand, it was stolen during the Battle of the Rending by an agent of Raxen. The Black Dragon, Israxa, was sent to retrieve the Horn. She followed the agent to Ecith and she was ultimately successful, but stored the relic until the Founders could return,” she summarized. "I was told that it could be hidden either in the Sands or in Ecith, but beyond that, no one seems to know." She had a number of questions, but for now, she had been told to tell them what she knew. The time for follow-up questions would come later.

[Pharaoh]

A ponderous glance was exchanged between the sages at the mention of the Zalkyrian Horn, which caused Phocion to arch a brow. He couldn't recall ever having heard of it, but these three had a palpable reaction. The aging Vastian male sage looked nervous, the youngish half-elven male sage looked elated and the ageless Starborn Re'hyæan female sage looked intrigued.

"Sophos Val'Etherys, have you anything to note?" Phocion addressed the latter sage first- a pale-skinned, paler-haired woman of timeless beauty whose violet eyes darted from the Moonborn Prince to the Vastiana and scanned the girl appraisingly, before speaking.

"The Zalkyrianis Tubæ is alleged to have been the means by which dragons were first drawn to Atraxia en masse. It is said to have been gifted to or crafted by Zalkyrion in pre-Vastian Atraxia. Records of that era are scarce, and so we can only guess at the details of its origins. We do not even know of what it was composed."

"If we knew that, we'd likely have found it centuries ago!" Asserted the old Vastian scholar, as if he couldn't contain himself from commenting in that moment. He looked to Hilana and inclined his head in a gruff nod of acknowledgement before introducing himself: "Sophos Subitus, at your service, and more to the point- The Zalkyrian Horn was worn at the belt of Aværys Domitor, Victorious Be His Blade, when he rode astride Zalkyrion Rex Draconum into the battle of the Rending. It was loosed when dread Arcas struck the blow that slew His Exalted Majesty Zalkyrion and sent Divine Aværys tumbling from his back."

"Sophos Len'Thædros." The handsome, half-elven sage identified himself before adding to the tale, "As it fell from the sky it was caught in the jaws of the dragon Melindranovion, who served in Raxen's hordes. Melindranovion fled the battlefield, perhaps at the command of Raxen himself, and the Atraxian dragon Israxa was sent in pursuit by Zalkyriax."

"Israxa pursued Melindranovion across the crystal sea, intercepting him before he could reach Drathera and forcing him to shift course toward the Southeast. She sought to shepherd him to Solunarium..." Sophos Val'Etherys trailed off.

"Perhaps she did." Subitus noted, as if consolingly to his colleague. "But the trail was lost somewhere between the twain."

"It is generally believed that Israxa was successful in retrieving the horn, because Melindranovion's corpse was located near the border where the Atraxian Expanse meets the Southeastern edge of Central Ecith... and neither Israxa nor the relic were located nearby."

"In fact they have never been located since. But, if Israxa retrieved the horn, where did she take it?"

"And why would she not return it to Solunarium?"

At this point, Sentinel Phalendyr appeared in the doorway with a rolling tray of tea and light pastries, which was brought before Sentinel Phocion's desk in reach of the guests.

[Hilana Chenzira]

When the Starborn Sophos looked her over, Hilana met her eyes only for the briefest moments before looking down respectfully. The Platinum elves were holy, after all, and it was important to show proper deference - not just because of her race, but also her station. But she would be able to tell that the girl was inquisitive and earnest. Even if this task was impossible, she believed it could be done, and further, she, who certainly didn’t look like one of the Vastian nobility, or a particularly powerful mage, was going to find it. She was determined to find something that had been lost for thousands of years, somehow, and she had her pencil at the ready, the notebook on her lap opened up.

She didn’t interrupt, didn’t look away from those that were talking, but she smiled and nodded at each of the scholars as they introduced themselves. At Sophos Val’Eterhys’ explanation of the use of the Horn, the girl’s eyes brightened considerably and her Symphony sang with delight. She had wanted to find a way to bring the Dragons back, and if she could find the Horn, then she could accomplish one of her dreams. That thrilled her to the core, and Hilana’s pencil was making rapid point form notes. For all of her lack of a formal education in a proper scholarly setting, she was apparently used to doing this with her most recent teachers.

When Sophos Len’Thaedros said it was a dragon who followed Raxen that had stolen the ancient Horn, Hilana’s tongue went over her teeth in disbelief. A dragon had taken it? Not an Orcanus?! They must have corrupted the dragon somehow, then. Or maybe it was an Orcanus animus with a Dragon totem. Unbelievable. Still, the Vastiana didn’t dare argue or suggest the points; which turned out to be the wiser course of action as the sages continued the discussion. The Crownwyrm had said that they had sent Israxa after them, which was indeed verified by the black-robed scholars, and she listened to their queries as Sentinel Phalendyr brought in tea and pastries.

Oh, that looked and smelled good. Traditional black tea, and that sounded about right considering the company that she was keeping at the moment. As much as she wanted to reach for a pastry, Hilana shifted to another page in her notebook. She drew a quick map, outlining and marking the important landmarks just for reference, and then filled in more from the notes, circling the area where they had said Melindranovion’s corpse was found. These maps she was used to doing; they had done them often. Asher’s cloth maps were better by far, and Hilana would go through those that she had from him for that area after and see what she could cross reference.

She glanced at Prince Phocion under the pretense of checking silently to see if he wanted pastries. She understood a bit about Phaedryn’s house, and that was that secrets were meant to be kept. If the Sophos did not know that Prince Phaedryn had told Israxa to hide it from his siblings, then it wasn’t on her to tell them. If the Prince elected to… that would be on him. They knew that Melindranovion was slain. They knew that Israxa must have gotten the horn back.

She puffed her cheeks thoughtfully before looking back at them. “Is there anything known about Israxa? Possibly an estimate as to her age and strength?” The girl inquired. “When Melindranovion’s remains were found, would you perhaps know if there was any signs that Israxa might have been badly injured in their encounter, assuming they had one? Like if her blood was identified at the scene or something like that?“ Even though this was a trail that had been cold for millennia, the basics of tracking told her that an injured beast could only go so far. A dragon was sure to be different, but maybe that could give them an idea about a possible range. If there was a lot of blood, perhaps she was wounded and that could be a clue.

[Pharaoh]

Phocion sat back in his chair, his black-gloved hands clasped under his pale chin as he seemed to stare slightly over the heads of the assembled scholars, rather than looking at anyone in particular. Even as they spoke, it was as if he was lost in thought. Perhaps he was envisioning what they described, or perhaps he was lost in unrelated thoughts, but whatever the case, he only seemed to break from it when the cart of refreshments arrived.

"Please. Help yourselves." He said with a slight nod toward the offering. Subitus was not shy about grabbing the first pastry, plucking up the most saccharine, honey-drenched bit of baklava available and biting into it with relish. This didn't stop him from answering Hilana's question, just as eagerly, though his reply was entirely unintelligible for his mouth being stuffed full of phyllo.

"He said Israxa is a Black Dragon." Sophos Len'Thædros translated, wrinkling his nose at the boorish behaviour of the elder sage.

"Theirs is the domain of death." Sophos Val'Etherys elaborated, "She was young when the Battle of the Rending took place. Barely a century old, if that."

By this point Sophos Subitus had completely finished his first pastry and was pouring himself a cup of tea from the pot. With his mouth no longer otherwise unengaged, he was able to contribute to the discourse more effectively:

"If there was any such research done, it was thousands of years ago... shortly after the Rending, before we'd fully retreated back into the desert and abandoned our colonies abroad. The remains were found in what is now Ecithian territory, so I'm not aware of any more recent research." He glanced to Phocion, "Unless you cagey order has done so subversively."

Phocion arched an eyebrow and remained mum on the matter.

[Hilana Chenzira]

When the elder Vastian spoke through baklava, the girl’s bare shoulders quaked with some laughter that she managed to muffle, biting her lips together as the other Sages kindly elaborated for her to expound on what Sophos Subitus had told her. More notes were made in her notebook. The domain of Black Dragons was death, so quite possibly that had been a tidy execution… even for a younger Dragon. “Is there any information on what colour of Dragon Melindranovion was? Or his age?” That was grasping at straws, but she may as well have tried to get the clearest, most detailed picture that there was to be had. She was going to have to go find museums and galleries with portrayals of the Battle of the Rending, too. That way she could get an idea about the size and shape of the Zalkyrian Horn.

“Would there be maps available of where the old colonies were around that area and territory? And any old notes on them, like estimates of censuses or populations?” Hilana wanted to know, then, looking first at the one that she had drawn, and then back up at the Sages. That might be worth cross-referencing, too. His Divine Radiance had mentioned that this quest might take her to distant mausoleums that held reliquaries never broached by humans. Mausoleums indicated tombs, which meant that someone had had to have been there and died. And while his words hadn’t been definite that such were the guaranteed locations, it was worth keeping in mind. The Father of Solunarium wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t worth remembering.

At Sophos Subitus’ remark about the caginess of the Vigilia Argenti, and Prince Phocion’s lack of reply which said everything and nothing, Hilana had a feeling that staying quiet on Phaedryn’s involvement had been the right course of action. The only way to keep a secret was to say nothing, after all. But Phaedryn had been a step ahead of his siblings, and just about everyone else, by a mile. Their family’s archives were going to play into this, the Vastiana knew, and hopefully more light could be shed from there. But Phaedryn… He learned the convention wisdom, and shunned it. If she wanted to be successful in this venture, then she was going to have to do the same.