Dark Crow Rising

Reaching the end of the production line, I start to prod at some of the freshly baked newstablets. Finding most of them to be a bit too hot, I shuffle closer to the end of the conveyor belt and pick one almost bound for a case & pallet. Applying my thumb to where it needs to go, the magic within shifts the displayed contents about. All those pictures we've been taking have led to a fairly different-than-usual publication for today.

The people in the typing room don't have the time or focus for a big story as of late, so I've been expecting only sentences. Besides, all I need is a few sentences to pair with these pictures and we have enough to stir the hearts of all those left within the city. If I can just get a few shipped out to other mountain-states and settlements, though. It's almost enough to make me cackle, but, first and foremost, I need to get one of these sent north.

His Royal Highness, the Prince-to-Ascend Jhrartur has been answering me fairly consistently as of late. Under no circumstances am I allowed to speak of it, but, the siege of the Redstone Canyon has become the First Siege of the Redstone Canyon. The Royal Army of the Jhermonikra and their air-naval compatriots are on the way. I have been given assurances regarding my posting and His Royal Highness wants me to stay within the city.

Though, while I am more than willing to comply with the order, I cannot say that I am immune to what is going on around me. Every day we wake up to is one more set of halorises and halosets for us to die in. Rumours have it that wells are starting to ripple unnaturally and those with the means can see a dark form in the too short of a far-off distance. Whatever help is coming, I am anxiously awaiting its arrival.

"Find a block to fill out this incomplete stack, I'm going to be heading to my office." I tell one of my engineers and he nods quickly, his boots striking the metal crosshatching. Slimming down to my side, we pass by each other and I mind the claustrophobic walk. We've had to move a lot in preparation for the arrival of so many families. For once as well, there's a noise louder than the printing presses down here.

It's nice to see that children are still able to find a way to be happy when all the adults can do is worry. Much as we champion maturity and acting one's age, abused as the concepts are for petty reasons, we could all learn a lot right now. The children, though not wise in the traditional sense are the teachers for right now.

Minding my thoughts, I have to stop one child who's a little too active next to the stairs down. Ruffling his hair, I guide him off back towards some of the other kids and lock the stairwell gate. There's something amusing to be found right now with how this place is being conducted. Behaviours we have to mind due to health and safety laws are being ignored while what we generally overlook is being applied.

That gate just now tends to stay open, after all, everyone here generally has the mind not to prance around it. But, with all these mattresses and cushion piles that have been assembled, we all need to scrape our hips on the guard rails. Thankfully, my office is far enough out of the way to allow for a clean entry. I slip a hand into my pocket and pull out the key I've also locked to the belt loops of me trousers.

The key returns to its tight fit and I simply lock the door from the inside once I pass through. Opening my viewport to the usual array of tables and typers, I frown and close it back up. The rest of the room is secured and I start to open up the many hidden compartments. A good remark about custom-made imports from Founder's Point can dissuade a lot of curiosity.

Putting the tablet into its slot, I get to typing in the details and adjusting the values. The machines I need to do my proper job blend in with the rest of the building's noise. A few more buttons and I am ready to deliver the message. I sigh and bring a hand along my messy facial trim.

"Well, that's everything I can do for the time being. Now, I wait." I remark, watching the machine's details only for a bit longer before I lock it all backup. The taken newstablet comes back into my grip and I set it on my desk. Moving the blinders out of the way, I wince at the Orbital-Halo's shine and put a hand over my brow. Most of the daylight warms my aged skin and I catch sight of the wisp of magic joining the winds.

I'm still not entirely sure how our information network works, exactly. It's magic-based like most technology is these days but there's something distinctly different about this. The way the winds behave once we condense our message into a long-lived whisper, it's unlike anything else. There's something else out there in the world taking our messages further on than they should normally go.

Thing is, I've heard nothing of any branch in the secret services that trains people for this kind of spell. For something so depended on, it makes little sense to keep it hidden from even us in the field. I can't imagine a name of a department is going to put anyone in danger but at the same time, His Royal Highness is a secretive one. He comes back after his forty years of political imprisonment in the Grand-Kingdom like so many others of noble birth and then he locks himself away for another three.

Whatever plans he concocted in that time, I don't think anyone alive but him truly grasps how far-reaching they are. The war with Waionr's Chosen Theocracy is coming to an end, what was once a static conflict of warbling borders is now entirely decisive for us. Though much of the technology we're now seeing in the royal army is not new in the purest sense. He's managed to keep it entirely out of the hands, ears and eyes of our long-time enemy.

A war he intentionally shifted around to being fought with penal legions primarily, for a time. Such long-term, psychology-aimed tactics are baffling to me. Never mind the reforms he implemented and the Helmetless Rebellion His Royal Highness incited. Brave is such a strange word to consider a rank but now it is as they alone can act as any man would. The common footman no longer has that luxury.

I can't imagine ever being able to do my job with a helmet that shadows my face in a pitch-black darkness. I'm sure he's aware of it as well which is why the issue was never pressed. However, that just means I now have an extremely nosy, micro-managing boss. Which, honestly, I can't say I hate in the slightest as it largely helps me do my job better.

I click my tongue as my runaway thoughts come to an end, "If the giant is heading this way, where will I go once my current cover is destroyed a little too early?"

I can only help but wonder. The kind of strict timetables we are given to do our jobs and get what we can does not allow much room for abrupt changes like this. I guess, maybe I should take a hint from those currently in my deceptive employment. If I don't have work to keep me occupied, I should go and be with my family. Maybe I can catch up with my boy who is never the same as he is in the photographs I have of him.

All these pictures of a little smiling boy playing with his siblings, cousins and mother. So very few with me in them, however. I'm pretty sure he's at the latter end of his time in university these days as well. Not just any old school, a quite new and modern royal one. The Lathameturn Royal Academy of Lost Cultures and their Histories.

My boy made it into a place like that and I cannot even talk to him about it... He must feel like I am a stranger, just a face he sees every now and then, one he will say hello to before moving on with his day. I can only do my best to make up for lost time before my next assignment comes along. Hopefully, this hope His Royal Highness speaks of will give me that chance.

"Well, I guess I've certainly done a bit upset my mood. Mmm, guess I'll go down to the staff kitchen and brew myself something." I go, clicking my tongue again and finishing up with getting my office back into order. Sorting the last few things out, I place a confidential tablet on my desk and give it little further mind. Not much reason to be worried about things these days and I am more than able to take the snooper out back.

The riots are quite the easy excuse to get rid of someone who knows what they shouldn't.

Picking up the newstablet I took earlier, I select a cup from my drawer and reach the door. Someone knocks it from the other side and I open up with a smile. The woman in my employ smiles and laughs a little. She spots my cup and laughs harder.

"Coming by to ask if I wanted a cuppa?" I ask, moving her along and locking my office back up.

"Yes, actually! Gods and goddesses above, they seem to be able to direct us mortals how they want." she goes and I follow after her as what must be her daughter trails around at her side.

"I-I'm going to go play, Mommy..." the little girl explains as she squeezes by.

"Yeah, go ahead, Sweetie." my employee acknowledges with a hearty pat on the back. I know it's not the best thing to ask, but, there's not really a whole lot else on anyone's mind right now.

"Any plans once you finally get out of here?" I ask, adjusting my grips on the two things I have. She comes to a stop and rests her backend on a shoved-aside desk. The cup in her hand goes down and she seems to linger in her head. Perhaps a lie would sound nice right about now but, it's hard to lie these days.

Finally, she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry things aren't going better for you." I tell her and she struggles to curl up her lips.

"It's fine, I'm sure we'll have all we'll need within whatever refugee camps the government has set up." she nearly rambles with a shrug.

"Maybe in those places they'll be wise and not pull what is going on right now." I comment and she starts to nod.

"Yes... Yes, that would be... Nice. Much as I know we can't really blame everyone involved. I don't want to see another Ibenoroccon for some time. A sentiment I feel will only turn viler if this act of government proves to cost me some of my family. We could've been out of this damned place already and..." she says, a hand moving to her mouth as she struggles to figure out which way she wants her emotions to swing.

"We best go get that cuppa now, shouldn't we?" I ask and she shifts like a flicked switch.

"Indeed!" she practically hops with enough force to topple a building.

"I guess the riots do have one benefit these days." I start to chuckle over.

"What's that?" she asks as we walk.

"If we can find an abandoned shop or bakery, we can stock up on free biscuits!" I finish and she smiles, her thoughts likely clinging to the sweet melting of chocolate and the crumbling of the oaty bases.

"That is true, the looters are probably ignoring things like biscuits altogether." she hoots, perhaps not wanting to consider how desperate the situation is.