Legend of Ransera

While it was unseasonably overcast for a summer day, the people of Zaichaer were so grateful for the return of the sun and even the moons that they would not grumble, would not begrudge the day star its occasional day of rest. Anyway, it was still warm even muggy, a more common occurrence down in the riverlands than here, north from the Brass City. The old woman was just telling him so and he was smiling and nodding and playing the dashing young officer. He had fished out the locket from under his clothes, begging her pardon for unbuttoning his coat before her, which made her titter and say if she wasn't old enough to be his grandmother... But he had shown her the portraits within, one of him and Lucrece, Brenner in his arms and wee Hans in hers; on the other side, a very similar portrait of Stefan and Delia, Amalia in his arms and the Glade Princes in hers. She told him about her children and her grandchildren and how very odd it had been since the young master had returned from abroad.

He hadn't needed Lessnau to read her mind or even soften her up for him. He was charming and knew how to soften up a witness and make interrogation as sweet as pie. It came with being a spy, which is the training he had received along with military and magical. She knew in theory that he was the new High Sentinel of the Order, but he was dressed as young Admiral Angevin and of course she had heard stories of the elder Admiral Angevin and all he had always done to protect Zaichaer and its constituent lands.

Lessnau had ensured that there was no danger in any one allowed to approach him. Searing Victory hovered nearby and they had come bearing gifts; these gifts of food and medicine, blankets and other various and sundry goods had been coming via the covens, she had told him, mouth twisting in disapproval and eyes wide, begging him to understand that she hadn't wanted a witch's charity, but there were mouths to feed attached to innocent children and he had, of course, nodded and said there was no shame in doing one's duty to raise and succor the next generation of Zaichaeri brilliance.

The confusing correspondence had come mid-Glade, but nothing had come of it. Of course, Angevin had done his due diligence. Ms. Grey had informed him that the covens had been sending aid, the very same aid that the government had been giving out already. He thanked the Railrunners for their help with logistics and promised her they would handle things from there.

"A shame Mr. Monteliyet didn't reach out to the city," he was saying, "but now you will have the same support that the rest of our citizens are receiving as we rebuild. And more and more of the witches are being licensed, so at least they are being properly supervised. The roads are clear now and the city is being rebuilt. Perhaps you will come and see how our pride hasn't been broken." He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Thank you for speaking with me. It has been enlightening." He hadn't said enlightening in a lascivious manner, but a hint was there, just enough to send an old woman's heart racing and make her giggle like a woman decades her junior. Harmless enough; everyone liked to imagine sweet things.

He rose and stepped aside to where Lessnau was awaiting him. As they walked, Angevin formed a quick bubble ward around them to prevent eavesdropping.

"Seems a bit of a cult to me," Lessnau was saying. "There were murders that he claimed to have no memory of committing. There's a thin veneer of almost worship, and terror beneath. I've sembled them all at this point, and I can show you what the work of Vitalis does to the aura."

"Good." That ought to be enough for him to make at least rudimentary wards against it. Stefan wanted to meet the man claiming to be Dreyfus Monteliyet, but Eitan wouldn't allow it unless he could protect him. "Mesmer is powerful enough, and not all Mesmers are as trustworthy and loyal as you."

Lessnau's back straightened. "Sir." Then, "Between sembling and knowing the mechanics of Mesmer, I can sense the effects of long-term compulsion. If he doesn't return, these people would do well to have psychologists helping them. Certainly knowing they don't have to kowtow to a Vampir in order to survive the Eclipse and the aftereffects of the pidge offensive ought to give them some sense of security. I... I would ask to be stationed here for a while if such aid is sent, to help."

"Once we locate the possible Monteliyet and assess the risk to Zaichaeri citizens, I will certainly take your request under advisement. They would be fortunate to have you."

"Sir."

He couldn't even say thank you when he was truly moved, and he was quite devoted to the High Sentinel. It was good to have a trusted subordinate like him; Angevin's mental wards were much stronger and more sophisticated for his help. Certain parts were left unwarded or weakly warded so a Mesmer might think they had cracked his defenses, but there were layers upon layers, compartments and twisting alleys. What good was he as a spymaster if he couldn't keep a secret?

"How is your patient, Doctor Storlock?" he asked, dropping his bubble as they approached the Air Defense Corps-issue pop-up tent. They had expected direct summer sunlight rather than the steel gray sky, but it lent an air of place that made people feel more comfortable, he supposed. The small girl was probably older than she looked. Even with food and water, they had been without the sun for a year. Magic and science offered a few solutions, but they were not perfect. The health of the nation was only slowly being restored.

Her wary smile nearly broke his heart, and he was glad his boys, as well as his niece and nephews, would not have to grow up in some hellscape where gods and magic had stolen their birthright from the sky. He smiled and crouched down so he was on a slightly lower eye level than she was, less threatening, he hoped.

"Hi. I'm Eitan."

"Hi," she all but whispered.

"Fraulein has suffered the same trials and tribulations as the rest, but she is improving." Storlock was smiling, too. He was barely an adult himself, a wunderkind of the Grymalka and now Stechpalme's protégé. For all that he was one of those death-worshipers, he had an excellent bedside manner. The Dornkirks and Angevins had even had him on hand to help deliver the latest batch of babies.

"Well, we all had an awful year or so, hadn't we?" he asked her. "Kalzasi and her black-robed sorcerers thought they had us, but they didn't understand Zaichaeri mettle." He stuck out his tongue at her, then made a comical face. She giggled in spite of herself. Then she nodded solemnly.

"You are free to leave once Admiral Angevin dismisses you, liebling."

"Well, you heard the good doctor," he said, standing up and stepping back. "You had better demand your treat and then run off."

He saluted. She stood up, saluted solemnly, then giggled and put her hand out.

"Aww...!" was her response when Storlock placed one of the little sweet oranges that they had imported on her little hand. Then she realized how rude it was and whispered an apology.

"The orange is for later," Storlock said. "This is for being a brave patient." He put a chocolate on her palm. She thanked him and then gleefully ran off.

"I do not believe he is feeding upon the children," he allowed. "At least, no scarring in likely feeding spots. No more fear of syringes than any child, and I haven't had to give many injections today. In some ways, the adult population's health is inferior to the children's. Not only were they dealing with sunlight deprivation and insufficient nutrition once the animals and plants started dying, but the Vampir was feeding upon vitality they didn't have to spare. Not a single person would get a clean bill of health, and I would suggest extra rations so their health can, hopefully improve. If for no other reason than their orphans would have to be brought back to the city for care."

Even he had to think in these terms now, and Angevin was grim about it but focused on how they could solve the problem.

"And?"

"Ah, no, sir. I have not seen or heard anything that gives me cause to believe that this Monteliyet is with the Cult of Mending."

"That is one mark in his favor, I suppose."

"The covens wouldn't suffer the Cult of Mending to return, sir. Not if we could help it."

Angevin regarded him.

"I appreciate that. All right. I will leave you to it, Doctor."

Young Storlock nodded and went back to work. Reconnaissance had warned them that the Vampir would be gone for some time, but not for how long, and so they could not stay forever. Angevin nodded to Lessnau and then started off in another direction. Everything was working with clockwork precision, he thought, but he wanted to ensure Reiner and Kämpfer were doing well with their assignments. This wasn't a glamorous job, but he knew Reiner enjoyed air travel now, and they all enjoyed flying in and playing the savior.