Legend of Ransera

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Talkin’ to yourself?” Reiner swung around the corner, leaning on what remained of a doorframe to regard the scene before him.

“Ew! What is— er, was that thing?” He pushed off the panels to walk on the balls of his feet close enough to get a look at what remained of the thing’s head. “Well done, you. I remember when these things started popping up taking jobs from hardworking humans for schillings so our factory families all had to take pay cuts… Nice suit, though, huh?” Reiner’s expression turned to one of confusion at that strange detail. He opened his mouth to speak more, but suddenly his face went slack. If Kuno inspected it, he would soon be blinded as that pale visage was spotlit by a stark, severe glare from above as, descending, Kuno would see the answer to his prayers.
“Wily child, how well thou dost work.” Adorned in naught but shadow that wove across her torso, occasionally revealing a flint of silver chain but naught of flesh, The Dea Imperatrix descended from on high. A bare foot, skin as pale as Reiner’s but with a preternatural glow, would slight upon the ash-blanketed ground. Long raven hair framed a face striking and severe and silver white eyes fell to the fallen demon.

“This one was an architect of Zaichær’s misery. I diminished him. It is meet that thy hand should deliver the coup de grâce.” She took graceful, balletic steps toward Reiner. Did her feet even touch the ground? They left no prints, so light and subtle were her steps.

“Thou hast been too long neglected, but ne’er forgotten.” She grazed her fingertips through Reiner’s hair where it protruded under his cap. “I would leave thee with two boons and one task to yield a third. First…” Her attention turned sharply from Reiner to Kuno.

“Long hast thou borne the pendulous Chains of a hapless birth, but e’en thus hindered hast thou forged shackles that bind others.” A telling glance to Reiner at this danced promptly back to Kuno.

“And much hast thou Sacrificed in pursuit of Domination. For service unto Me, I do hereby bequeath the Sacræ Dominationis Insigne: The Sacred Emblem of Supremacy.” She nodded her head and it was done. It felt like nothing, in itself. No sting of pain nor surge of pleasure burst through his left ankle as a silver incorporeal fetter of æther rounded it.

“This next gift is for thee and thy city withal… A force to preserve and protect your realm. One that shall align the whole of the land under the view of him that doth rear it.” She lifted both hands and parted them, an elliptical glow surged to blinding, and when it faded a platinum oval lay in her palms.

“A realm wracked with chaos such as this doth want for such a steadying force. This be a seedling of Order, as thou dost interpret the concept. Mind it with care. Keep it somewhere hot. I know this realm hath no dearth of furnace-burning heat. Ply it well, and this child of Draconis Platinum who dwelleth within shall be thy ward. Rear them with care and they shall be Zaichær’s defender and a keeper of Order in the North, where all who enter their realm shall be bent toward their lofty Will. A Will which thou shalt shape” She handed the dragon egg gingerly to Kuno, then swept around to stand at his side. Before them she weaved her shadows into shapes, forming a three-dimensional map depicting Zaichær as a smoking ruined skyscape and trailing a path eastward, where she marked the vague landscape with the specific protrusion of a volcano from whence more plumes of smoke wafted.

“Of the three architects of Zaichær’s doom: one lieth at thy feet, another sateth me, enchained as she be by mortals, whilst the third and most egregious malefactor… a homegrown betrayer that did commit unholy treason most foul… lieth imprisoned at Mount Kaladon. His pow’r is vasty, but raw… divine in nature. He was unfit to wield it and so I claimed what was useful to Me, and the rest is thine to gripe. He will be known to thy masters as 'Florian' and when they learn what he hath wrought they shall delight in My justice. Remember Kaladon. Seek it out and the third of My gifts will be in thy reach.

"My name need ne’er be invoked for Me to feel the worship of mortals who serve Me. Use this trinity of boons to broaden my reach and erect Mine holy church with bricks of faithlessness ‘pon the foundation of ‘New Atheism’. Let them call Me ‘nihil', even as they serve My dogma… as this one did.” She observed, glancing down to Franky’s corpse.

“We shall grow strong together, thee and Me, My silver-tongued sweeting.” She began to levitate, floating behind Reiner. “Learn thy pow’r, mind the babe and seek the betrayer. We shall meet again ere long.” And the shadows that wreathed her enveloped the goddess. She was gone, and Reiner blinked.

“What good tailor even opens his doors to those things?” Reiner wondered, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Their sweat stains must be insaaaaane.” He tilted his head, "You all right?"

"Vielen Dank!" Reiner grinned. If he'd even noticed that Stefan had said something that might be interpreted as a slight, he showed no signs of noticing it. There was far too much good in profusion to focus on microaggressions. He was a lieutenant with a future, he had the family of his dreams and, at long last, Zaichaer had a future! Part of him was already down on the ground, as he jogged over to meet Kuno, not even halting his gait as he initiated his salute.

"Kapitän!" He said, nearly plowing into the man. "I didn't even have to ask permission to sit out the dinner! He just offered!" Reiner had been eager from pretty much the moment the Mistspawn began to melt to the ground (or at least from the moment he'd processed what that portended) to celebrate. Not the way fancy folks celebrated, but to properly party like a Grungie on holiday. The solemnities for the fallen and the responsibilities to the family were behind him. Both had been necessary and appreciated, but this was something else. Of solemnities and responsibilities there had been no dearth in the year since the appearance of the Breach. Reasons to celebrate? Those had been fewer, and the end of this abject era was certainly a good excuse to let loose in ways that Zaichaeri rarely did. Reiner would accompany Kuno onto the ship, practically skipping up the gangplank as they prepared to set off for the mission of the year: The party to end all parties.


The impromptu festivity was audible from the air. It had begun with small pockets of jubilation in different parts of controlled Zaichaer, as the news spread. It didn't take long for such potent word to spread, and soon the surviving brass of the now-tarnished Brass City gave leave to use the recently secured and conveniently central Fort Cathevelle as a gathering place. Reiner wasn't sure how long the party had been raging, but even from far above one could see and hear that it was very much underway.

"Heilige Scheiße!" Reiner grinned, peering down from on high, with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of doppelbock in the other. "Good thing we're arriving by air! We won't have to fight through the crowds to get close to the action." The landing pad was, after all, centrally located and, of course, partitioned off from the party proper.

"Plus we'll be instantly popular on account of we're in uniform and we're bringing more beer!" He put his cigarette between his lips, and put his arm around Kuno's slender waist as they looked over the edge and a cheer erupted from below as the crowd saw the approaching vessel. "Shee?" Reiner lisped through his cigarette as he lifted his beer bottle to toast those ovating them below.

Reiner blinked at Kuno for a moment upon being asked whether he'd forgotten how they partied in the East End.

"...I mean, yeah, kinda!" He replied with a wan chortle. Kuno might have mistaken this for a haughty allusion to his recent rise in the social ranks by being embraced as a Dornkirk, but that wasn't even on Reiner's radar at the moment. He was more thinking of how long it had been since there'd been something worth celebrating... truly celebrating on the level of this survivors' blow-out below. He hadn't forgotten how to be an East Ender because he was too far in the clouds. He forgot because the East End, the West End and everything else had been decimated to such an extent that it felt like another life to think on his youth there. And that had only been a year or two ago.

Reiner would help with he carts of libations, though at one point he did take the opportunity to ride atop one of the crates as it rolled the last few feet of ramp on its own momentum. He hopped off gracefully, and pranced a few steps, presenting the bounty like some carnival ringmaster with a corresponding flourish.

"Don't be shy, Überlebenden! Come one, come all!" He said, as he grabbed a crowbar and crawled up the wheel of the cart to shove it between the boards, "I think Zaichaer deserves a drink, don't you?" He used his body weight to crack open a crate of kegs, at which point other men- now lower ranked than himself, took over and he jogged back over to Kuno.

He could hear the oom pa pa of music in the distance as he beamed, boyish and bright as the silvery moon.

"I'm feelin' kinda crazy tonight. I don't even know where to start! The energy is just amazing. I've never felt like this in my life. It's over! It's really finally fucking over!"

Reiner chuckled in answer to the affirmation and took a final pull on his cigarette, tossing it before the stampede of revelers making for the freshly delivered kegs. With his now undivided attention upon Kuno, he nodded.

“I like your priorities, Kap.” He replied with a nod, “I’m on it!” He declared dutifully though, looking at the mass of bodies now swarming the beer, he wished he’d taken advantage of his position to get another drink before the crowd could gather. Still, the spirits were so high, that what might have become a hostile free for all was anything but. A grateful man with the build of a stonemason recognized him as the beer-bringer and made sure to get two drinks in his hand within a matter of minutes. He delivered one to Kuno, before sipping his own.

After a few toasts causes the first round to go down apace, he fetched another before Kuno led them toward a group of girls.

The party, being impromptu, didn’t have a proper lineup of entertainment. There were murmurings that a singer who’d made a name for herself traveling between bases during the conflict was going to be flown down later in the day to serve as a sort of last-minute headliner, but the band that opened the event was composed of enthusiastic amateurs. It was clear from their demeanor that they’d never been blessed with so engrossed a crowd… that is assuming any of them had played together before today. It was entirely possible that they’d just been the ones with gumption, instruments handy and the basic ability to play them.

As Kuno put him up on the proverbial auction block, Reiner’s eyes widened and his pale cheeks pinkened. Embarrassed though he was, he shouldered it without comment and offered his hand to Mieke, drawing her out onto the dance floor to cut a rug.

Reiner was tipsy enough to forget about the surroundings and focus on his partner and aligning their steps in a complementary fashion.

“I like your dress!” He had to yell over the band, which made the compliment sound more zealous than he intended. “One good thing about being a soldier is you never have to guess at what to wear to a special occasion. It’s all, well… uniform.”

Reiner reveled as Kuno compelled. The captain would learn a few things about his newfound abilities as he plied them. One thing he would soon realize was that it took more thought, focus and effort to influence people he didn’t know well, unless they were soldiers of lesser rank. Amongst them, he could feel the chains that already existed and tug them where he pleased. With other strangers, he needed to forge new chains of control. The direct “chain-of-command” that existed in the military was a clear cut thing, unlike the more ambiguous tethers a soldier might claim over a civilian citizen. However, once a new chain was forged it it became easier to influence that individual, even if he didn’t know them well. All of this seemed to suggest one thing that vindicated Kuno’s preexisting worldview: Accruing authority over others would enhance the power of his Emblem, even as it enhanced his power in society. To ascend over others was to forge chains of command that would feed him and, in so doing, feed Her.

Unwitting to all of this, Reiner was content to over-indulge in all the offerings of the event. He didn’t wax thoughtful on the matter as Kuno had. His mind wasn’t focused on the advantages of socialism, but rather on getting what he could while he could. He didn’t think of the greater implications of the evening’s offerings, he just binged as much of them as he could. By the time Meike started to delve into exhibitionism, a wide-eyed Reiner was content to bury his face in her bequeathment until he needed to come up for air or, more likely, beer. When he did so he would be sure to inform Kuno that this was the…

“BEST! PARTY! EVER!!!”