Legend of Ransera

Debris whirled in a chaotic dance around Nathan, an explosive force that robbed him of his balance. With only one functional hand, he fumbled desperately, unable to clutch the railings in time. His fingers clawed at the air, reaching for any anchor that could arrest his plummet into the jaws of impending death. In a fleeting moment, he glimpsed the entrance to the Hall of Reconciliator, a mere illusion snatched away as he was yanked back to his precarious vantage point. The next recollection etched into his mind was the abrupt descent into a haystack, accompanied by the visceral scene of a wolf-like creature engaged in combat against soldiers amidst a haze of dust and debris.

Nathan, driven by the urgency to reach the Hall of Reconciliator, attempted a vault but miscalculated, propelling himself into a neighboring building instead. It was a nightmarish ordeal, his personal purgatory unfolding since the ill-fated day at the Hobbled Gobbler. Phasing in and out of Zaichaer and the alternate plane became an unwelcome norm, an arcane affliction that haunted him ceaselessly. The mere thought of invoking his arcane arts sent shivers down his spine, for fear of spiraling uncontrollably into the astral plane. The abjinurium-edged ring embedded on his finger, a relic from the explosion, emerged as his only bulwark against permanent assimilation into the otherworldly realm.

"The High Sentinel will see you now," a melodious voice echoed from behind the closed door, disrupting Nathan's reverie. A gentle tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to the present. "Mr. Cross?" the Riverland Corps representative queried, to which Nathan, somewhat disoriented, responded, "Ah, yes. Sorry."

Stepping into the office, he acknowledged the High Sentinel with a salute. "Watcher Cross reporting in, High Sentinel," he declared before settling into a seat. His gaze flickered with surprise at the youthfulness of the High Sentinel, a sentiment quickly rationalized by the realization that the new Grand Marshal likely shared a similar age bracket. Unperturbed by the age of his superiors, Nathan reaffirmed his allegiance to Zaichaer, indifferent to the faces at the helm of the Order's hierarchy.

"The report pertains to my last mission under the previous administration. The individuals at the Hobbled Gobbler, including its owner, are not affiliated with the Blood Witch," Nathan began, pausing for emphasis. "Following the explosion, I endeavored to reach other Order branches. Penetrating the Hall of Reconciliation was untenable at the time, and communication with Vigilant Franz Cross in the Kalzaseran region was severed." Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, "I apologize for the delayed report, High Sentinel. Personal afflictions hindered my progress, though a temporary resolution has been devised."

Initially hesitant to divulge the nature of his affliction, Nathan, cognizant of the Order's stance on arcane anomalies, had reservations. Even his interaction with the Coven had yielded only a provisional remedy for his mutation. The Order of Reconciliators, masters of Negation magic, held the key to his persistent struggle.

Nathan took a deep breath, his optimism unwavering as he considered the possibility that Gabrielle, with her eccentric and curious nature, had found refuge far from the city during the blast. Amid his brief 'missing in action' period from the Order, which primarily involved the search for his uncle and colleagues at the Kalzaserean branch, he had also diligently kept an eye out for Gabrielle. Recollections of her stating her intent to join other researchers on a voyage to the Clockwork Waste in the week of the explosion played vividly in his mind.

"I greatly appreciate it, High Sentinel. She's a tough kid, eccentric but tough, just like her parents," Nathan replied with genuine gratitude, expressing acknowledgment for the High Sentinel's assistance regarding Gabrielle.

Nathan observed as the High Sentinel closed the dossier, a subtle but familiar gesture that resonated with him. The closing of the dossier and the conversation's commencement with the word 'so,' followed by a brief pause, mirrored a technique employed by the previous Grand Marshal, as well as his father and uncle. It signaled a shift towards off-the-record discussions, a method Nathan had been schooled in by his uncle, who emphasized that certain information was better conveyed verbally.

"Yes, High Sentinel. It would be the greatest honor for me to carry on the legacy left by my predecessors and to uphold the honor of House Cross," Nathan affirmed, his commitment resolute. Pausing momentarily, he placed both hands on the table, calculatingly choosing this moment to disclose his personal struggle.

Having estimated the dosage of substances he used to take, Nathan, who had abstained prior to the meeting, shifted the conversation toward a more delicate subject. "And I also would like to ask for a personal favor from you regarding my affliction," he admitted, raising his hand to demonstrate its onset of phasing. Nathan detailed his reliance on the Abjinurum ring and the temporary solution he had found in the form of ground dragonshard. His plea for help from the High Sentinel carried a weight of urgency and vulnerability.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Nathan scanned the room—a customary habit when conveying sensitive information. He recognized the High Sentinel's office as the safest haven for such discussions. Clearing his throat, Nathan broached another sensitive topic.

"High Sentinel, there is something else. It has come to my attention that my father was working on something before Kara's rebels assassinated him. I haven't delved deeper since the Blood Witch incident," he confessed, aware that his next words could implicate his father and the entire Household. "But the information my father was following suggests connections between previous administrations, the former Shokaze of Kalzasi, and the Inquisitors." Nathan was uncertain whether the 'Puppet' mentioned in the letter referred to the previous High Sentinel, the former Grand Marshal, or the ex-Shokaze. Yet, based on the letter and the events leading up to the blast, he concluded that the Puppet held a position of power in Kalzasi or Zaichaer.

"Forgive me, High Sentinel, for my seemingly outrageous speculation, but I can't dismiss the possibilities that the explosion, the arrival of the Dreadnought, and the war were planned by the same individuals or group. The events lined up a bit too perfectly," Nathan confessed, studying the High Sentinel's reaction closely. "I wish to resume my duty as a Watcher, to aid in rebuilding Zaichaer, and personally request approval to pursue this issue on the side." His words hung in the air, a mix of determination and a plea for understanding in the face of a complex and shadowy conspiracy.

Hopefully, the scholars at the College could find a better solution than me having to be some junkie, dependent on the powdered dragonshards from suppliers in the Covens. Even the dragonshards were in short supply, nevertheless. Getting my hands on some unrefined abjinurium from the Warrens is an interesting venue to pursue. Still, I must look for a more skilled runesmith or alchemist who could work better with the powdered dragonshard. He thought to himself while listening to the planned excursions into the Warrens. If only that brat were here, I could pick her brain on this topic.

"Yes, High Sentinel. I will report to you as soon as I find more information." He paused and took a deep breath. "…..and Sir, what will my 'official' duty be?" he asked as he didn't know who else was on the High Sentinel's list of trusted people; he could somehow deduce it from the official duty that he would be assigned or just asked it outright. Nathan knew that the shorter the list was, the safer it would be, but it would also be more accessible to backtrack.

"High Sentinel, I will be visiting the College of Minders to discuss this issue after this meeting, and perhaps the other issue," he said as he lifted his right arm while gazing momentarily at the stump. Nathan knew it would be difficult for him to be of significant help with only one good hand and magic that could go haywire every time he used it. "Is there an engineer or artificer you recommend that could help with the other issue? It would greatly increase the effectiveness of the operation." He asked, as he didn't know people from the engineering corps or mages that dabbled in artificing since he would always ask Gabrielle if he needed help from one of her peers.

Nathan's mind drifted through the echoes of the past, contemplating the eerie familiarity of the present compared to the time before the explosion. The pursuit of mutated specimens had become a grim routine, but the abundance of these anomalies in the current world contrasted with the challenges faced in the aftermath of the blast. Nathan acknowledged that working with a task force now made the endeavor more manageable, a stark contrast to the solo missions of his earlier days. He pondered the alternate reality where such collaborative efforts had preceded the explosion, musing on the potential avoidance of the grotesque magic mutation ordeal that had befallen him. However, the unpredictability of fate lingered, and Nathan considered the possibility of having been at headquarters during the blast, envisioning a different, more devastating outcome.

"Yes, High Sentinel. And regarding the partner, do you have anyone specific in mind? Or I could ask for a shortlist of names later at the taskforce?" Nathan's inquiry held a sense of curiosity, his respectful nod affirming his agreement with the High Sentinel's previous statement. The shared desire for abjinurium and an enhanced arsenal akin to the Imperial soldiers reflected Nathan's ambitions and the collective needs of their task force.

The revelation of a black operation brought forth memories from the depths of Nathan's past. He recalled his father's involvement in something similar under the former Grand Marshal, stirring a sense of nostalgia and the realization that he needed to ascend the ranks to become a more valuable asset for Zaichaer. The specter of his missing hand served as a constant reminder of the necessity to compensate for his physical limitations. Simultaneously, the High Sentinel's explanation stirred thoughts about the acquisition of more powdered dragonshards from a different supplier within the Covens.

"Thank you very much, High Sentinel, for the consideration. Yes, I agree that getting a good result can't be rushed. After all, we are spread thin as it is," Nathan expressed his gratitude, acknowledging the challenges they faced. The pause that followed was pregnant with anticipation as he inquired, "So, High Sentinel, which task force will it be?" The question hung in the air, marking a crucial juncture in Nathan's journey as he awaited guidance on the path that would unfold before him.

“Yes, High Sentinel. It had been dark days for Zaichaer.” Nathan nodded in agreement. One of the reasons he had been working primarily solo before the blast was because of incompatibility issues with his partners. Besides, he was accompanied by his Aidolon before his magic got all wonky and unstable, and he still got his good hand.

Nathan paused momentarily as Eitan told him about having another officer sign off on his other assignment. He agreed silently, as he knew it would make him a target of the forces, just like the incident with Kara’s rebellion and the fact that his father was close with the previous Grand Marshal, which made his family the prime target for the rebellion. “It would’ve been suspicious indeed, High Sentinel. We don’t want the paper trail to be that obvious. As we don’t know who else is working against Zaichaer.”

“Hmm, I will have to look for the potential squad mates too, High Sentinel, as I’m not sure if they are still around or……” he took a deep breath. “I will inform you along with the report.” Nathan stopped a few inches before the door. “Thank you very much, High Sentinel, I will inform you as soon as possible. I would also like for this matter to be resolved as soon as possible, so it would not hinder the reunification process and the rebuilding of Zaichaer.” He saluted Eitan and made his way outside the room.

Well, no rest for the wicked aye. Hopefully, the crew’s still around. That brat, too, knowing her, would probably make her way back to Zaichaer even if she had to crawl on the ground to reach here. He thought to himself as he walked briskly in the hallway.