Hope

Just a few more details and it would be done. Avys von Blackburg walked around the maid wearing a lavish avant-garde green dress, checking each hem and lace on the girl as if she were a mannequin. Making certain that everything was in order. Especially the emerald-colored bracelet - the most important detail. She was sure the upstart Count would appreciate the striking familiarity to the one he had gifted his missing mistress when he met with the Duke the following day. Then she nodded to herself, dismissing the maid for the moment. The young woman quickly left the room.

Avys had to admit, among the many misguided traditions of House Blackburg their servant caste had been surprisingly well managed. Probably more out of Pride than practically but even coincidental competence of her in-law ancestors could prove convenient. She had been actually impressed by how well indoctrinated they were when taking the mettle of local nobility. Entire clans of just servants dedicated to House Blackburg with traditions, documented bloodlines, and even political undercurrents. Nobility among slaves in all but name as far as Avys reckoned, though almost no one in the Federation thought of it that way - it was only natural for them that the Mage stood above all others. Even the servants themselves took Pride and pleasure in being indoctrinated by their own families since birth.

Then, of course, House Blackburg managed to add hindrances to everything convenient. Early in her reign, she had to deal with the high nobility genuinely upset at the possibility of her - someone they despised - being waited on by servants with less than 10 generations of pedigree. And that was on the lower end of cultural pushback she had to deal with over the years. The chains of tradition were still so tight that after well over 4 decades of loosening Avys was barely starting to feel her hypothetical wrists again. And those erosive plans have been upset by recent events.

“Dervish is here,” Calm announced as soon as Avys sat back at her table. She had not noticed but then again, she was not particularly perceptive.

“Allow him in,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh before reaching into a cupboard, quickly withdrawing a bit of candy. It melted on her tongue with a surge of mana and almost overwhelming sweetness, much to her appreciation. Mana-infused sweets were expensive… for most people. She had to often hold back as to not overindulge.

“Your Ladyship,” Dervish gave her a slight bow, already in the chair across from her, having moved across the room in the blink of an eye before she had even noticed him enter.

“I assume you can finally give me the detailed report about Abonisle?” Avys nodded.

“As you have asked me to,” Dervish affirmed.

“Then please,” she beckoned for him to go on. Calm settled to the side of the table in the meantime, blatantly listening in.

“As you know there have been two Raveners present at Abonisle,” Dervish nodded. “Shadow Conclusion has managed to uncover their mortal identities as we have feared.”

“Damn it,” Avys suppressed a groan. That meant they had come from this Realm, not through a breach. That could only mean one thing. “Let me guess: Missing soldiers from the last Lich war 17 years ago.”

“Only one of them was a soldier. The other had been an associated diviner,” Desrvish nodded, not fazed. “Married couple, in fact.”

“One died and the other was convinced to try and revive them,” Avys could already see the line of that story. “Something survived the last Lich War to give that offer and actually live up to it. Quite possibly something that had actively fought but had the presence of mind to go into hiding before the final battle against the Archlich.”

“Something powerful if it was willing to send two Raveners on a suicide mission,” Calm commented. Because even if Lizzy hadn’t made it, the Liches would have still been killed. The city would have completely fallen - true - but they would have died nonetheless in the end. Hunted across the whole Duchy if need be.

“Any feedback on the warnings we have sent?” Avys turned to Calm. The moment she had heard what was happening in Abonisle she had sent emergency letters in her husband’s name.

“The Duchies of White, Red, Cyan and Green had officially thanked Duke Ezax for the warning after uncovering a brewing incursion in their own metropolises,” Calm nodded. “All of them in major cities with their Temporal Beacons - though our agents couldn’t confirm that anything actually happened in the Duchy of White.”

“The Duke of White is a deft hand,” Avys nodded. “He either lied about it as a discreet favor for us or will pretend that was the case when he wants something in return. Do we know what they were actually after?”

“Presumably the city,” Dervish replied, completely stone-faced as always.

“No other sign of anything else? Really?” Avys did not like the answer.

“As far as we could find,” Dervish nodded. “Everything suggests that it was merely an assault on a city that, thanks to young Irwyn, was barely noticed in the nick of time and foiled.”

“Which means we are missing something,” Avys decided. “If they wanted to just inflict damage and death, they would have other better options. What of the facility that was attacked a few weeks prior?” the building had been erased with Time/Space magic without any chance to identify what might have been taken.

“Our investigation was clearly being diverted,” Dervish admitted. “In hindsight, one of the Liches had an extraordinary capacity to coordinate undead. I would guess they guided several corrupted Time mages to produce a seemingly much more potent spell. But there was supposedly nothing really worthwhile kept at that facility.”

“Calm, get someone on it,” Avys decided. “Check ritual significance, history, people missing after the original attack. There must be something more to it.”

“I will get it done,” Calm agreed.

“The soldiers noted an abnormal quantity of Light attuned Draugr,” Avys continued her thought. “No report of anything from Duchy of Yellow?”

“No, but that could be just them being evasive,” Calm shrugged. “The Duchess of Yellow still despises you.”

“Petty wench, but they must have come from there, unless the souls were sourced interplanarly,” Avys thought. It couldn’t quite be ignored. “When we are done I will write a letter borderline accusing the Duchy of Yellow of supporting the attack.”

“Irrationally sent after the attack on your favorite city, yes?” Calm guessed.

“Exactly, then have it immediately followed by a letter from Ezax apologizing for his wife’s faux pas while implying that he disowns it. I will help him word it just right.”

“Will that help?” Calm was unsure.

“The Duke of White knows the game,” Avys nodded. “He will read between the lines and discreetly send inquisitors, or it will at least push him towards that decision with other evidence. And if I am right we can use it in a few years when we pull the curtain.”

“Then I will have the line ready to send at a moment’s notice,” Calm nodded.

“And the facility Dervish?” Avys looked back to the man.

“Untouched,” the Shadow nodded. “They had gone into 24 hours of silent lockdown as per protocol and only opened up last night. No problems. The Shadows antagonistic to us have also been too occupied with the boy to notice."

“Yes, the boy,” Avys nodded. “Let’s talk about the source of my headache. I want your best evaluation.”

“Before the incursion itself I would have put his talent just below young ladyship Elizabeth, above before she indulged the Ambrosia,” Dervish said. And Avys was surprised, because Lizzy was ridiculous. The man always spoke with complete honesty though, at least to her. Of course, she had read that the boy was described as incredibly talented but had purposefully not delved into the young mage’s story too deeply. It was supposed to be a passive investment she would not need to worry about for at least a few more months or ideally years.

“Something has changed your mind,” Avys noted. Whether that was for better or worse had not yet been mentioned.

“This,” Dervish nodded and a metal slate appeared in his hands, facing the Duchess. On it was engraved a shape. Avys looked it over and by the time she looked away there was almost no memory of it in her mind. Just a vague sense of impossible angles. If she were a more talented mage she might have had a headache. Alas her soul could not even delude itself that learning truly advanced magic was possible.

“And this is?” Avys asked. Calm had also looked over but quickly flinched away. That in itself said a lot to her.

“That is a mark the boy used in self admittedly ‘improvised spell’ against the undead,” Dervish explained. “Matching it to record had the chief librarian occupied dawn to dusk and we can only be thankful that Captain Evenwoe even had the idea to take a picture of it as no eyewitnesses could retain it in their minds.”

“The name doesn’t sound familiar,” Avys admitted, captains would generally be completely beneath her notice.

“The one who young ladyship made first contact with,” Dervish said. While Avys was blinking a full file on the man appeared on her table. She did not let the Shadow’s antics distract her and immediately picked it up. “Third page, 4th paragraph might be of interest.”

“The Carrion purge,” Avys read, a familiar name that immediately made the strings connect in her head. “His daughter died there. No wonder he was so warry about the boy’s obvious Guild affiliation.”

“We can be thankful for his paranoia,” Calm had approached silently at some point, reading over Avys’ shoulder - as he could afford in very private company. “So, what is that mark?”

“Limited records on it,” Dervish nodded, another document appearing in between blinks. This time a single page. “The head librarian has concluded that it matches what is called ‘The Weeping of Stars’.”

“This is not intention or even concept magic,” if Avys had been trained worse her eyes would have widened in shock as she read the short file. “A mark of a Truth?” a Truth of magic… where spellcraft and its rules became mere suggestions. A mage who had attained such could dare to claim a Name… assuming there was a suitable one not taken. She would always remember the day Ezax had claimed his first Truth, such impression had it left. Just the thought of such a young boy possessing one was laughable. “How is that even possible?”

“It is not,” Dervish nodded. “A human halfway through Imbuement should die on the spot from somehow retaining this kind of knowledge. Such a fragile soul and body would not bear it.”

“You think he is not,” Calm spoke out the obvious conclusion.

“Too many signs. And if that wasn’t conclusive, this is,” another sheet of paper appeared on the table and Avys picked it up. It was a… medical report. A bit of idle paperwork that any half decent healer would issue to their patients. And besides the ‘redacted’ name and ignoring context it looked normal. Perfect physical health, undamaged Vessel, Funnel, and Reservoir. No grafts required. No immediate signs of trauma, physical or otherwise.

“It is rather strange that there would be no signs of mana overuse,” Avys admitted. Hours of relentless casting should mean bruising of the Vessel or other spiritual sprains. It was certainly very unusual but not necessarily inhuman.

“You are missing the point,” Calm shook his head behind her. “Right here: ‘No grafts required’.”

“He was injured,” Avys realized. She remembered reading that in the early report.

“He got his arm severed while being stabbed through the heart,” Dervish replied. “Stitching applied on the spot to save him. I have even discretely checked with the young Ladyship it was even indeed stitching. This is not just natural recovery. His body subsumed the temporary magic to heal. That either defies Finity or his flesh is not mundane.”

“What do you think the boy is then?” Avys asked.

“Putting it all together with the visions he had reported, the indecipherable Fate, the bottomless reserves and the impossible resistance to Flame - and probably Light as well - I can see only two possibilities,” Dervish nodded. “He could be a deeply wounded Star that is genuinely amnesiac - I am confident the boy is not deceiving me. But I have already consulted with several astronomers and the consensus is that the last time a Star winked out was well over three centuries ago. And near-death experiences would likely have more noticeable reactions if that were the case, not to mention it would make no sense for him to end up in our Realm in that case. Stars don’t leave their own kind injured and abandoned.”

“And your other guess,” Avys asked for the real one.

“The boy is very likely half Empyrean, or at least quarter,” Dervish concluded. “Whatever living Star had mothered or fathered him could have left him with a fate-warding blessing, some copied memories as heritage and little else. Old annals suggest that our Sun has engaged in similar trysts on several occasions.”

“Half Empyrean,” Avys whispered the words. The sheer possibility that presented. Already pushed to her side of the board by her enemies and bonded with her daughter. Assuming he lived through the near future, that is. “How are the preparations going, Calm?”

“The dress is being made, otherwise there was not much to prepare on my end,” Calm shrugged. “Though Elizabeth has still not approached you for help. Should I make contact?”

“No. She has been desperately grasping for independence in the last few years,” Avys shook her head. “If I extend the helping hand she will only resent me for it. Let her figure out on her own that no amount of begging, sniffling, and promising will be enough to get the boy out of this mess alive. Then she will come to me for the solution she is certain I always have.”

“Will she really come around?” Calm hesitated. “She has been quite insistent on having as little to do with you as possible ever since she hit puberty Avys.”

“I find that young Ladyship has become surprisingly attached to the boy,” Dervish commented from the side and Avys thought she noticed a hint of suspicion in that unmoving gaze. “Almost surprisingly quickly.”

“I could tell you that it was a matter of prediction about a peerless lonely girl,” Avys smiled. “And that had been in part my original intent in letting Elizabeth volunteer to be a liaison. But now? Now I think it is a matter of mythology. I am almost certain of it.”

“I am not sure I understand,” Dervish admitted and Calm nodded behind her.

“A Star and a Temzda. A story older than time,” she said and after a moment realized from their expressions they still did not see the connection. “Now is not the time for storytelling I suppose. Calm, prepare me wine in the parlor. I will be remaking the Web tonight.”

“To account for the boy,” that Calm immediately understood.

“And for the early Lich war,” Avys nodded. She had turned the last one into an opportunity. She would do so again. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to find Ezax for some bonding over letters.”