The conversation, or debate, or whatever it was being over, Cladissa takes the opportunity to meditate. She then opens a small pocket from which a spectral mist pours out, coalescing into a black cat. She replenishes her spells while Eugeni works, thus enabling her to shift back to the material plane when it comes time.
She watches the final stages of the spell with interest, and marvels at her duplicate when the spell is complete. Her cheeks begin to color at seeing her double naked, and she hastily draws out a second dress from her haversack and offers it to her.
Weaver nods to Eugeni, then looks at Cladissa as she accepts the dress. She realizes her nudity a moment afterward, and makes a very Cladissa-like gasp and quickly dresses.
"Thank you," Cladissa says to Eugeni, then turns to the simulacrum. "Hello, Weaver. I'm Cladissa. I'm very happy to meet you."
Weaver pulls the dress up over her hips and puts her arms through the sleeves. She straightens once clothed and looks over Cladissa. A smile grows on her face. "You did it." Her eyes start at her hands, then run up her arms to her shoulders and then looks over them at the spider legs anchored to her back. "I look just like you."
Cladissa gapes. "And you sound like me. And, you know what you're to do?"
"You mean, be Weaver as you take on your birthright as Cladissa d'Lavigne Velorryan? That was the plan, right?"
Cladissa nods slowly. "It is, yes. It's just... envisioning the plan and seeing it in the flesh -- well, rubies and ice -- is an entirely different thing. You're okay? Being a copy of me?"
Weaver takes a moment to think. "I don't really have a choice. I'm aware I'm just a spell, though a very powerful one."
The real version suddenly grows very concerned and suddenly uncertain. "Oh, no. I may have made an error." She starts to turn toward Eugeni.
Weaver stops her. "Wait. I'm based off of you, right? This is for Galt. I know I'm not real. But I remember the plan. And I believe in it, because you do."
Cladissa again marvels at the spell standing in front of her, but this time she laughs. She takes a hold of Weaver's hands and squeezes them. Weaver laughs, and it becomes infectious, the two of them laughing in wonder and excitement.
Finally, Cladissa steps away and turns back to Eugeni. "Utterly astounding. I covered the costs of the materials, but I haven't paid you for the spellcasting itself. How may I repay you?"
Feeling a bit cheeky.
Eugeni hesitates. Then he says, "With a kiss?"
Cladissa and Weaver's eyes both go wide in an identical expression of surprise. The simulacrum takes a step back and turns to watch Cladissa, whose expression quickly shifts from shocked to carefully neutral. She meets his eyes for a moment and then a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.
She inclines her head toward him. "It would be my pleasure," she says as she steps toward him, leans forward, and places a cool, dry kiss on Eugeni's lips.
Eugeni does his best to be a good kisser, which he actually is, but his anatomy makes it an interesting new experience for Cladissa anyway. As she pulls back, Eugeni has his eyes closed and a small smile on his face.
"Thank you. I have never kissed a queen before. Not that I have wanted to kiss any of the other queens I have met." Eugeni looks around. "Well...I think that concludes our business. Feel welcome to stay as long as you like. If you ever have need of me again, my kissing booth is always open. If you are ready to go home, I will call Titanicus to escort you."
Cladissa steps back, a light smile on her face. "No, thank you. On behalf of Galt, thank you, Archmage Eugeni." She inclines her head toward him. "I've been away long enough. Lots can happen in sixteen hours in Galt. But this has been very worthwhile. I'm happy to have made your acquaintance, and hope that this isn't the only time we cross paths."
Weaver moves next to Cladissa and places a hand on her shoulder. Cole entwines around their legs, mewing softly. "Unless this place is dimensionally locked, I'll be able to return to the material plane from here, and I can take Titanicus with me if you like. Wherever we end up, he can make his way to Sandpoint, I expect?"
=====================
Before casting her spell, Cladissa closes her eyes for a moment and and illusion shimmers over her. Her eyes no longer glow, and her extra arachnoid legs are invisible. She appears much less striking, with frizzy hair and her face obscured by thick lenses.
Weaver frowns as she looks at Cladissa, who shrugs. "I'll make some adjustments gradually," she tells her.
"Safe travels to Sandpoint, Titanicus," Cladissa tells the dragon, then teleports home.
Former High Accuser Edmund Torvayne adjusted his doublet as he sat in his appointed chair. He looked around at the people assembled, Weaver's "Restoration Council."
Shortly after the business with Celeste, she had offered him a seat on her council, even though he bore no loyalty to her and told her as such. Weaver's response was hopelessly naive; she said she needed to hear every voice -- including those who would see her fail. Though he had grave doubts about her willingness to listen, he agreed.
He was still an unwilling guest of the Restoration movement, though his cage was quite gilded and he wanted for little. Years had passed as he watched Weaver work against the Gray Gardeners and the real, true council of Galt. Her council grew in number, collecting dissidents and military-minded counter-revolutionaries, sycophants and others -- like him -- who had lost their standing with the Gardeners and now had no place else to turn.
As the years wore on, he grew tired of the Restoration Council. He had joined for something to alleviate the boredom of his situation -- otherwise his only human contact would have been Cladissa Velorryan. But his seat was merely that of a sounding board; Weaver needed someone to naysay and push against her ideas. He started finding excuses to not attend, preferring to be an empty seat than one that was continually ignored.
His presence today, however, was not optional. Cladissa had accompanied him when he tried to beg off for being too weak and needing rest. The girl had been sent to him to help him make the relatively short journey through the hedgerows to the place where the Council met and to assist him during the meeting.
He regarded the others seated around him. The spellsword, Palos Kendrosi, was seated at Weaver's right hand as always. Delphine Dubois, the daughter of Senator Elio Dubois. Enzo Rousseau, former ex-pat who returned to Galt from Gralton because of Weaver's movement. Gaspard Lyon, a disillusioned Gray Gardener. Yanis Dufort, royal loyalist. Senator Abelard Vernier, sycophantic member of the senate from Halvon. Marvol Beaumont, general of Weaver's military forces.
All of them turned to Weaver as she sat down in her seat. She had a package in her hands that bore the seal of Kyonin, the land of the elves which bordered Galt to the west. She clears her throat and holds the package up for everyone to see.
"Hello everyone. I've convened this council meeting for a very special reason. Kyonin ambassador Jeevika Kailani visited me last week, and gave me this. This has been with her for many years, and based on the work we've done thus far, she's decided that it is time for it to return to Galt."
"What is it?" Senator Vernier asked.
"We're going to find out together," Weaver said. She shows everyone the box's seal which is unbroken.
Torvayne shook his head. "The elves have always been a threat to Galt! This could be something terrible!"
Weaver glared at him. "I have confirmed that the elves distrust the unending revolution of Galt. This gift is proof that we have their favor and blessing, I believe."
Torvayne returned the stare. "You are far too trusting."
Weaver wasn't ruffled. "Perhaps. But I knew Jeevika's daughter when I was in Absalom. She wouldn't harm me, this I'm sure of." She cracked the seal and began opening the package. "Let's see what she sent us."
The box revealed several documents and other, smaller objects. Weaver held up the first document and started to read aloud. "'Royal birth decree: Born to parents Cassaild d'Lavigne, second heir to the throne of Galt, and Tessida Montaigne, of House Montaigne, one Cladissa d'Lavigne, third in line to the royal throne of Galt.'"
Weaver looked up with surprise. "Wait," she said. She pulled out the second document.
"'Cassaild,
"'Don't try to stop me. I've loved you like a brother. I loved Tessida, but she chose you. Though it grieves me dearly, I cannot hate you. So let me do this. The Gray Gardeners come for all of House d'Lavigne. I will take your place and give you and Tessida a chance to build a life together. This is the best thing I've ever done, so don't ruin it. Take my name. I'm no one special, so the Red Revolution should pass you by. Live for me, and keep her happy. That's all I ask of you.
"'Your friend,
"'Atticus Velorryan."
Torvayne slowly drew in a breath, turning to find his servant girl behind him, standing in apoplexy.
Weaver pulled out the last document. "Oh, my," she said while looking it over. "This is a birth certificate. Cladissa d'Lavigne Velorryan." She took a moment and used a spell to review the magics in the document. "A drop of blood will confirm the identity of this birth certificate." Weaver's eyes fixed upon Cladissa, standing behind the former high accuser.
"My dear, would you come closer?" Weaver asked.
Cladissa stepped forward, wringing her hands. "Yes, Milady? What... what's going on?"
Weaver looked at Cladissa's face in wonder. "I think you won't be calling me 'milady' ever again. Please, put your finger here," she gestured to a spot on the document where the tiniest of barbs lay in wait.
Cladissa swallowed hard, but put her finger on the spot which pricked her finger drawing blood. Suddenly, the vellum document glowed bright blue. Cladissa, too, received a flaring corona of light around her head.
Everyone in the room gasped, including Torvayne. Weaver stood up, taking hold of Cladissa's hands. "You... you're the heir to the throne of Galt! You're of noble birth! The line of Galtan royalty is not ended!"
Torvayne leaned forward intently, watching the revelations occurring before him. Doubt and skepticism fell away to awe and belief. After all, he'd used royal birth certificates to good effect in his work as High Accuser. The magics within the documents had condemned many a noble in hiding by revealing their true lineage.
But what truly astounded him was the fact that Atticus Velorryan had been Cassaild d'Lavigne under his nose for years, and had allowed his friend to die in his stead. And even more incredible, was the simple serving girl who had changed his linen, swept his floors and changed his chamber pots for the last three years was in fact the last royal scion of house d'Lavigne. His lip curled in the irony.
After the shock ran its course through those assembled there, Torvayne rose to his feet and stepped over to the girl who was still standing before Weaver. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "I take no pleasure in being right," he said softly.
Cladissa spun to look at him, confusion on her face. Weaver, as well, narrowed her eyes at him. The commotion among the Council members died down as their attention turned to him. Seeing that he had the floor, he let his hand fall from Cladissa's shoulder. "I said that the elves could have sent us something terrible. And they have. This will destroy the coalition you've built, Weaver, just as sure as this is Cladissa's death warrant."
He addressed the girl directly. "I'm truly sorry my dear. Remember, I did tell you to flee Galt before the Revolution caught up to you. If you'd like, I'll make sure it's quick."
Gasps and murmurs ran through the Council, as Cladissa's eyes went wide into shock at Torvayne's words. Weaver stepped in between them. "Stop it. Return to your seat, Edmund."
Torvayne's face remained neutral, ignoring the glares as he stepped back to his place. "I'm only pointing out the obvious. This council," he said with a sweep of his hand, "cannot follow two masters. Unless Weaver plans to step down in favor of this serving girl.
"And remember, the d'Lavignes were diabolicists. They followed House Thrune and Cheliax into wickedness and depravity, sparking the revolution in the first place! Why should we treat her as anything different?"
Weaver stepped forward, eyes glowing hotly. "Torvayne, you're a better historian than that. There were two branches of d'Lavignes. King Alphon d'Lavigne the Accursed followed Cheliax. His nephew was Etrius d'Lavigne, who denounced his uncle, and was part of the first Revolution. His sons were Artevian and Cassaild, and neither were diabolicists."
Torvayne scowled as he lowered himself into the seat, disliking being lectured to. "So, does that mean you're going to bend your knee, Weaver? To lead this country back under the heel of the aristocracy?"
"Stop it!!" Cladissa shouted, interrupting Weaver who was about to retort. "Stop talking like I'm not here!" She smoothed her skirts and wrung her hands while all eyes turned to her. "I knew! I knew who I am! My mother told me, years ago."
She slowly walked around, making eye contact with each Council member. "Do you honestly think I want Galt worshiping devils? I'd heard of my... ancestors' actions and they were terrible. But, the things that have happened since... it's a nightmare. Year after year, revolution after bloody revolution, it has to stop." She looked at Weaver. "I believe in what Weaver has built here. I believe in her lessons. She's made me look past the hate in my heart."
Torvayne swallowed as Cladissa turned to face him. "This is High Accuser Edmund Torvayne. He is the one who condemned my father, Atticus Velorryan -- who was actually Cassaild d'Lavigne -- to death by a Final Blade. And I forgive him."
More murmurs and gasps ran through the Council. Torvayne felt very uncomfortable. "Weaver taught me that forgiveness is the only path to peace for Galt. If I were to order this man's death for his offense against me, then everyone who has lost someone would have a similar claim against someone else. There's too much hurt and pain in Galt's past for retribution. The bloodshed would only continue."
Cladissa's posture straightened as she removed her thick glasses, revealing a rather plain face but managing to be somehow striking nonetheless. "So whether I somehow am appointed queen, or if I remain this man's scullery maid, I will place myself at Weaver's disposal. For the good of Galt."
Torvayne looked at Weaver, who was beaming in pride as though a prized pupil was excelling.
"For the good of Galt," the Council responded in unison.
"So? How do you think it went?" Weaver asked after the Council had departed.
"Well enough," Cladissa said, letting her illusion drop. She had just returned from seeing Torvayne back to his cottage. He had been uncharacteristically quiet on their walk back.
Palos leaned easily against a wall. "I don't think you lost anyone. Keeping 'Weaver' in command was a smart move."
Cladissa allowed a small smile at the spellsword. "Smart in the short term. Now I just have to earn everyone's trust all over again."
"I'm still not thrilled about the whole deception," Palos said.
"Me neither, but I needed to demonstrate humility. The best way to do that was through Torvayne."
"And he's still ready to kill you."
Cladissa's small smile became a cheeky grin. "Then let's be thankful that he doesn't have the skill or influence to do it. And who knows? Maybe me forgiving him will spark a change."
Palos looked wary. "Don't underestimate him. I don't believe he'll change."
A tense silence grew. Weaver broke it after a few minutes by asking, "So what next?"
Cladissa stood and reached out her hand. Her broom on the other side of the room animated and flew to her hand. "You get to stay here and be Weaver. Palos and my next meeting will be much more difficult."
Palos sighed and shook his head. "You're still going through with it?"
Cladissa shrugged. "I have to know eventually. Better to know sooner rather than later." She gathered the legal documents, called Cole to her side, and teleports.
=========================
Citizen Aric, aka the Red Raven, swore aloud when he saw Cladissa Velorryan and Palos Kendrosi at the door of his manor.
He glanced furtively down the streets to see if anyone were watching, then hastily pulls them inside. "What do you want, 'Weaver'? You know I'm still under standing orders to arrest you. You haven't finally given over to good sense and decided to turn yourself in?" Once the door was shut and locked, he turned and shouted for Geppa to join them in the parlor.
"You can relax. I'm Cladissa once more, so you don't need to worry about arresting me. Weaver is still beyond your reach." She followed Aric into the parlor and sat down across from him. Palos remained standing near the door.
Geppa arrived alarmed at first by Aric's shout, but she relaxed when she saw Cladissa. "What brings you here? You know Edme is a dangerous place for you."
"Yes, we were just discussing that," Aric said. "What do you mean, Weaver's beyond my reach? What's going on?"
Cladissa leaned back in her seat. "Do you remember when I promised I had one more surprise for you?"
Aric appeared unamused. "Yes, and then you surprised me time and again with your little 'Restoration Council.' Isarn wants you dead! You are an enemy of Galt!"
Cladissa didn't change her expression. "You know that's not true. You've managed to stay loyal to a Revolution that has gotten increasingly bloody as it's tried to hold onto its power that is eroding as we speak. And you're going to have to choose soon, because you can't turn a blind eye anymore."
Aric suddenly grew wary. His hand twitched toward a knife on his belt. "I remain loyal to the Revolution."
"I understand. But we worked together so well in the past. Remember the leukodaemon? The hezrou? And I don't think you believe Isarn's propaganda about Celeste. So let me get to the point before your loyalty to the Revolution wavers any further." She smiled at his discomfort, then produced the documents. She offered the royal birth decree for inspection.
Just as he finishes, she reached over and stuck her finger on the barb. The immediate nimbus of light that surrounded her and the document elicited gasps from Aric and Geppa.
"I've given the title of Weaver to someone else, since I'll be assuming a new one," Cladissa said, breaking the shocked silence.
Geppa stammered, "This is... This is..."
"Legitimate," Cladissa finished.
Aric started shaking his head. "No, Weav-- Cladissa, you have to hide this. They'll kill you. You'll be--"
"An enemy of Galt? Been there. No, this is real, and it has to be done. Aric, Geppa, you know me. From the day we met, I've known about this. Everything about me is the same. I won't be a tyrant. I won't betray the core beliefs of the Revolution -- the true Revolution, that all people are equal and deserve a say in their government. We can do this. Whatever loyalists to the royal lines will flock to me. Then we can unify the country by coming together peacefully. You just have to keep the Revolution from going nuts and attempting to burn everything I've built to the ground."
Aric glowered at her. "Nothing simple, huh?"
"I can't believe you're doing this," Palos said, his hand white-knuckled on the hilt of his sword. "We're making the final push into Isarn in a fortnight!"
"It's a calculated risk. I'll be all right," Cladissa answered, meeting his gaze evenly.
"At least put Weaver in your place! I know what she means for us, but she's not real!"
Cladissa glowered at her companion. "Then tell me you won't grieve if she's destroyed."
Palos grimaced, straining to try to convince himself that the simulacrum didn't mean the world to him. Finally, he lowered his head. "You could always have another made."
Cladissa stepped forward and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "It wouldn't be the same. I'm a different person now. Two years -- gods, has it been that long? Another simulacrum would be... different. Enough."
Raising his head to meet her eyes, Palos sounded resolved. "It's still worth it to save you."
Cladissa chuckled and shook her head. "You're speaking like it's a foregone conclusion. I'll be fine. I've researched them quite thoroughly."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then no one else has to die."
=====================
Her estate was more quiet than she'd ever experienced it. She'd sent everyone away, including the servants and guards. They were all stationed several miles away, close enough to respond to a possible sortie from the Gray Gardener remnants still holed up in Isarn, but nowhere near close enough to help with the current threat that approached.
Cladissa decided to pour herself a glass of wine. She hadn't indulged in what must have been years, but if she were going to die this night, she thought it might be nice to have a glass.
Taking the wine glass in one hand, she wandered the three-room suite she'd taken as her living space these last few months. The estate had seen better days, as had all of Galt, but this one was more or less intact. She'd made it her Hidden Home by pacing around its grounds for a day, and made it more secure by laying down nearly invisible threads of her silk over just about every surface.
As her Hidden Home, she could control what it looked like by laying a powerful illusion over it. By putting threads everywhere, she could sense the vibrations of anyone touching them and therefore pinpoint anyone present within the estate.
While she waited, she toyed with how she wanted her rooms to look. Underneath the illusion, they were just the faded and time-worn rooms of yet another opulent palace left to decay. But Cladissa could make them look however she wished. Opulent and extravagant? Austere and spartan? Tasteful and reserved? After a few tries, she settled on something just beneath opulent, yet still tasteful. She had to look the part, if she were going to survive.
She had to measure her wine intake, because the estate remained quiet during her first glass. She poured herself a second, then left it untouched for nearly an hour while she waited. Finally, after an increasingly agonizing wait, she sensed the first tremors of movement in her webs.
As a precaution, she brought up her shorter-term defensive magics to join the ones she'd cast earlier in the day. The vibrations moved closer and closer as she took her position in the center of her parlor. Trying to keep her hand from shaking, she poured out two -- no, three now -- glasses and set them out.
The figures were invisible and silent as death as they entered her chambers. She had long ago mastered the art of seeing the invisible, but these intruders were good, able to hide even from that spell. Had she not had her gossamer silk threads in every corner of the room, she might have been actually surprised at their appearance.
Cladissa spoke quickly, knowing that if she hesitated they might strike at her throat and she would not have breath. "Greetings and welcome to my home. I am Cladissa d'Lavigne, true heir to the throne of Galt. Please, reveal yourselves and have a drink before you go about your task."
The figures paused, and Cladissa could feel the tension, like a coiled snake or drawn bow ready to strike. Trying not to hold her breath, she adopted her regal pose and eyed each spot where she'd sensed someone there.
After a tense number of seconds, one figure standing just five feet in front of her suddenly became visible. It wore a crimson suit of armor with a mask that evoked a some sort of large-eyed insect. In its hands were a pair of serrated blades.
"The Red Mantis Assassins, I presume?" Cladissa said. "I've read a little about you. I thank you for staying your hands just now, partly for purely personal reasons, but also because I believe you would be violating one of your core tenets."
A second assassin became visible, this one standing next to Cladissa with her blade poised before her throat. Cladissa gave her a look of annoyance, and the assassin withdrew the blade.
"Again, I thank you." She turned to look at the spot where she sensed the third. "Am I to be the only one to speak?"
The third didn't become visible. "We are used to our targets using that ruse. It does not save them."
Cladissa's mouth twitched. "Then put me to the test. I have the royal birth decree and certificate here."
There was a sneer behind the mask of the one who spoke. "Birth decrees can be faked. You shall drink the Tears of Achaekek." The one before her chanted a harsh prayer to the One Who Walks in Blood. Cladissa winced at the words, but remained standing. When he finished, a blood-red scorpion manifested in his hands.
Holding the creature over Cladissa's wine glass, he crushed it and poured a blood-red ichor into her drink.
The implication was clear. Cladissa picked up the glass and held it up. "Okay, then." Trying not to let any doubts about her parents' ambitions seep into her mind, she put the goblet to her lips and drank deeply.
Her stomach rebelled reflexively, but the expected pain and burning did not come. She had expected some sort of endurance test the moment she swallowed. However, nothing of the sort happened.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she set the empty goblet down. "Are you satisfied?" she asked.
The third materialized next to the first. The three assassins looked at each other, then at her. "We are. Achaekek has decreed that we may not kill one with the divine right to rule. The ones who hired us made the claim that you were false. We have slain many false kings and queens in this land." They inclined their heads in unison toward Cladissa. "For their treachery, say the word and they shall be slain."
Cladissa closed her eyes. She'd been afraid of this -- moreso than the possibility of dying to the Red Mantis assassins. The opportunity to have a ruthless and skilled team of assassins remove the leaders that opposed her was tantalizing. Yet, the Red Mantis were an evil cult. She couldn't taint herself in that way.
"No. I forgive them. They shall not receive retribution from me."
Even through their masks, the Mantises looked as if Cladissa had spoken some unknowable dialect. "Go. Leave Galt and do not come back. There is no more work for you here." She gave them a dismissal motion with her hand.
"But..." one of them stammered before the other two grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
As they faded from sight and left her estate, Cladissa ran her finger along the bottom of her wine glass and touched the last drop to her tongue.
I've passed the final test. I am Queen.
Argor arrived back in Verde Heights in a flash of crimson energy, alongside Adrenia and Nightfang. A moment later, he called his golem back as well. "Return to your post and resume Order Set 1," he commands it, which the mindless automaton wordlessly obeys.
"Argor..." Adrenia starts as the group moves through the manor.
"Don't, Adrenia. Not right now," Argor replies coldly.
"...if not now, then when, Lord Constantine?" she scolds as she steps in front of the conjurer. "You've been distant for a while now! We need to talk!"
Argor scowls at her and waves his hand, dismissing the summoning and sending her back to the celestial planes from whence she came. "What was that about?" Eleanir's voice called out to him as she rounded a corner, her belly showing her advanced stage of pregnancy.
"It's nothing. Just a philosophical disagreement," Argor replied.
"Must have been quite the 'disagreement' then..." she comments as she places her hands on her lower back. "You coming to bed, or are you going to continue doing whatever you are doing and waking the boys?" she asks
"In a moment. Go on ahead, I will be right behind you," Argor answers, giving her a small peck on the cheek before heading to his study. Once inside, he weaves an incantation to ward himself from any divinations, and then in another moment and a few words of magic, he is gone again in a flash, this time arriving before a portal framed by an elegant mithral archway. He immediately steps through...
...and into a very busy demiplane. A pair of golden dragons stand guard at the entrance, looking Argor over before allowing him further entrance into the massive palace beyond. Argor walks forward and through the large double doors, where he is greeted by...himself. "Identify yourself please," the greeter demands.
"Argor Number 7," he replies.
"Welcome back, Number 7. I am Number 4. Please, follow me for debriefing," Number 4 says as he leads the mage further into the complex. As he does, they pass various libraries and laboratories, all with what appear to be identical copies of Argor busy at work doing various tasks. Some are pouring over scrolls and tomes, another pair seem to be studying and subjecting a certain Runelord's staff to various incantations, seemingly interrogating the intelligent spear. Others are performing more mundane tasks, like keeping the place clean and functional.
Eventually, Number 7 is led into a moderately sized but lavishly decorated study. There, another Argor sits behind a desk covered in ancient tomes and scrolls. He raises his head and looks at the pair entering with a slight arch of his eyebrows. "Ah...Number Seven has returned. How much time has passed in the Material Plane?" he asked as Nightfang excitedly flies over to him and nuzzles him affectionately.
"Seven months and 17 days, Master," Number 7 answered. "Some developments have come to pass involving one of your prior associates of which you should be appraised."
"Really? Whom?"
"Lady Cladissa, Master," he answered the inquiry.
Argor sat up and laid down his quill, leaning back into his chair and tenting his fingers before him. "Proceed with your report..."
__________
After a very detailed and onerous recounting of the events up to his return through the portal, Argor sat quietly for a moment before speaking his mind. "A prudent course of action, but beyond the scope of your order set, Number Seven. You should have disengaged and allowed her to pass judgement and make the sentence," he says sternly, his voice conveying significant disapproval.
"My apologies, Master," Number 7 replied, hanging his head a bit. "Do you wish to decommission me, Sir?"
"No. You are too significant an investment," Argor replied. "You shall be restationed here for personality and decision making retraining. Number Five shall replace you on the Material Plane for now," he says with a snap of his fingers. A completely naked copy of Argor steps over to Number 7, and begins placing the clothing the other copy was wearing on himself.
Once everything is exactly as it was on Number 7, he takes the staff and then turns to Argor. "Any instructions for me, Master?"
"Maintain my day to day responsibilities as you have been trained. Anything that falls within a Level Five decision tree or higher, return to me for guidance," Argor replies as he resumes his studies. Meanwhile, Number 7 is led out by Number 4.
"As you command, Master," Number 5 acknowledges with a bow, before turning and leaving, Nightfang whimpering at Argor before flying off to join him.
_________
Argor made his way to his bedchamber, where Eleanir had already slipped back into the sheets, laying on her side with her back to her husband. He disrobed and climbed into bed beside her, resting a hand on her side as he closed his eyes.
"Your hands are always so cold lately," she comments sleepily.
Edmund Torvayne watched the celebration from his seat in the gallery. The assembled gathering of Gray Gardeners and revolutionary holdouts were popping bottles of sparkling wine and cracking the seals of bottles of brandy at the good news.
The scouts and spies amongst Cladissa d'Lavigne's forces were reporting her demise and her forces in disarray at the news.
Torvayne had escaped when the 'Restoration Council' moved to the outskirts of Isarn. Weaver had tried to teleport him there, explaining that he was needed and his frailty necessitated the magical transportation. But a quirk of the magic required him to be willing, and he had refused. She had attempted multiple times, and each time, she disappeared in that rush of air while he stayed behind.
So he was given a horse and an escort and had ridden from Weaver's stronghold outside Edme (he was slightly disappointed since he had assumed they were in Champs du Lange) to her new staging area several miles away from Isarn.
It was during the chaos of a quasi-military camp that he made his escape. After feigning weakness greater than he truly had, he managed to climb over a fence and work his way through the gutted villages that Cladissa's forces had occupied to reach territory still controlled by the Revolution.
His return was not that of the conquering hero or even the prodigal son, but that of a suspected traitor and mole. He wasn't anything of the sort, and offered all of his insights of his years of captivity. Maddeningly, however, he had little concrete information regarding Cladissa's and Weaver's battle plans, though he was able to give extensive information about the personas in the counter-revolution's forces.
Torvayne endured unpleasant questioning and his life was hanging in the balance frequently those first few days, but he managed to keep the Final Blade at bay. Eventually, he found himself in the same role as he'd played while on the Restoration Council. Someone not trusted, but brought to the table because of the insight into the other side he could offer.
Despite being freer with his advice, he'd met a similar dismissal of his counsel. It was why he was the lone dissenting voice against hiring the Red Mantis Assassins to slay the false queen Cladissa d'Lavigne. He'd seen the proof and had been convinced of her legitimacy. Even though he believed the royal line should be ended, hiring the Red Mantis was a mistake because they might believe her claim and stay their hand. Much better to hire additional assassins from Daggermark. Earlier assassins had failed, but the constant pressure by attempts on her life should eventually see results, he insisted.
Instead, the Revolutionary Council had gone forward with the religious fanatics, and now they toasted to their apparent success. It made Torvayne uneasy. His stomach sank further as the Council ordered their forces to attack while the royalist's forces' morale was at their lowest.
He could not hold his tongue. He stood and demanded caution, but was quickly shouted down. When he wouldn't stop, he was escorted out roughly and thrown in an antechamber and the doors locked.
======================
Time passed for Torvayne. The muffled sounds of celebration continued for what he guessed was two hours based on the length of the light coming in through the small window. Then it tapered off rather abruptly.
He wished he could hope that the celebration simply moved out into the streets thanks to the routing of Weaver's forces. Yet he dared not. The unease in his stomach only grew.
Suddenly, a >whoosh< of displaced air nearly knocked him down as six figures just appeared in the chamber with him. He recognized Weaver and a few of her close allies instantly.
"Hello, Edmund," she said as though she knew he'd be in this room. "It was very kind of the Council to place you in this room all by yourself. It made it very easy to scry on you."
Torvayne narrowed his eyes and drew a thin blade, ready to finally end things. "Weaver. I take it that Cladissa is not dead, then?"
Weaver smiled while her companions held up their blades in defense against the former High Accuser's aggressive action. "She's alive and well. And, merciful as always, elected not to send the Red Mantis against you and the Revolutionary Council." She holds up a hand to forestall anyone from striking the old accuser. "No, you still don't get to die yet. You've also been forgiven, remember?"
A sudden blast of cold freezes Torvayne, a look of astonishment on his face as he is encased in a tomb of ice.
As one of the team starts to work on the lock to gain access to the rest of the stronghold, Weaver claps her hand on Palos's shoulder. "All right, let's get moving. The rest of the Council await. For Queen Cladissa d'Lavigne!"
"Confound it! Let the Senate decide!" Cladissa snapped.
"Milady, they've reached an impasse."
She pressed her hand to her temple. "I gave them the authority to resolve the matter!"
"I'm sorry. Roughly one-third of the Senate wants matters resolved by two-thirds majority, two-fifths want matters resolved by three-fifths majority, and the rest want a simple majority. They cannot come to a consensus."
Cladissa pinched her brow and ran the numbers in her head. "All right. Tell them, simple majority for domestic matters, three-fifths for budgetary matters, and two-thirds for foreign affairs."
The Senate liaison nodded and rushed off towards the Senate chambers.
Weaver stepped from the alcove where she'd been waiting and put a hand on Cladissa's shoulder. "We knew this was going to be the truly hard part."
Cladissa looked up and for the thousandth time marveled at the spell animating this copy of her. "You're right. And I keep telling myself that. And every time, I'm still surprised at how difficult it is."
"We're building order out of chaos. Developing a government that gives people a voice -- all people, not just the loudest, angriest, or most charismatic."
Cladissa smiled weakly, shaking her head. "And at every turn, half want to cede all authority to me, and the other half want to burn me at the stake for claiming a mote of authority."
Weaver scoffed and waved her hand dismissively. "Noooo. They want to cut your head off."
A pair of guards announced the arrival of Palos Kendrosi, Citizen Aric, and Lady Dela Morgayn, preventing Cladissa from retorting to her mystical double.
"Greetings, milady," the trio began as they ran down the news of the day. After receiving a lengthy list of updates, the most disheartening being the continued at-large status of former ruler Citizen Goss, Cladissa nodded and waved them away. "Thank you. I'll have instructions for you in an hour or two. I'll send for you when I'm ready." She leaned forward and pinched her brow as she put her mind to the task.
The trio lingered, however. Palos looked at Weaver, who nodded. "Ahem, milady? Cladissa?"
She looked up, appearing weary. "What?"
"I think we should talk about it. You know. You've been putting it off for too long now."
Cladissa shook her head. "I'm not having this conversation again. We're spread too thin. There's too much to do. Goss is still missing. I've--"
"I think we're ready," Alric said.
Her eyes went wide at the Red Raven when he spoke. "You??"
He nodded, sighing. "Yes. I've spoken at length with Geppa, Teko, and the rest of my men of the Roost. We've... decided to go along with it. Honestly, never in a million years did I ever think I'd be saying this, but... Galt needs a queen."
Cladissa sat back in her chair. "Are you sure? I've used it, yes, to rally the loyalists to me, but... if we can manage without a royal line, shouldn't we?"
He shook his head. "Half or more of the country is already calling you queen anyway. You're building the government that you promised us. So, I think... you should do it."
Cladissa closed her eyes and thought. She evaluated her motives, considered the ramifications, and debated about whether this was truly the right course of action. She finally opened her eyes and sighed. "All right. But it has to be a small, tasteful affair."
===========================
Each of you receive a gold-embossed letter.
THE NATION OF GALT CORDIALLY INVITES YOU TO THE CORONATION OF
ON OATHDAY, 23RD OF DESNUS, 4720 AR
AT NOON
AT THE ROYAL PALACE, ISARN
"This is too much," Cladissa observed from her balcony overlooking the Rue de la Populace leading up toward the Palais Royale. Artisans and craftspeople were swarming over the street, repairing the facades and applying paint over the formerly war-torn and run-down boulevard. Soon, the city folk noticed her watching them and a number of them waved and cheered. She smiled back and waved, letting for a moment a glimmer of hope settle in her breast.
Weaver, standing back and out of view, saw her mistress start to wave and heard the adulation from the streets. "Too much? Giving the people of Galt something to celebrate?"
Cladissa allowed a genuine smile on her face as she waved back and acknowledged the craftspeople working diligently to restore Isarn -- or at least a few streets -- to its former beauty before her coronation. This was more than just a ceremony to put a jeweled circlet on her head; this was Galt's announcement that it was ready to reopen its borders to enjoy trade and diplomatic relationships. Its neighbors, Taldor, Andoran, Kyonin and a few of the River Kingdoms had all sent envoys to attend her coronation. More than that, the dwarves of the Five Kings Mountains and even Cheliax has sent diplomats.
After several minutes of waving, she finally gave a farewell gesture and took a step inside. She regarded her double. "Yes, too much. Remember, opulence of the royal class was part of what sparked the rebellion. It's a huge risk to go too big."
Weaver folded her arms. "We've opened up our own coffers to pay for most of the celebration. We're giving work to the artisans, just as we've done everywhere we've gained control. You--"
Weaver is cut off as the pair sense a tremor in the webs they've laid down around the palace. This one was just outside, climbing up into their quarters through the open balcony door. Cladissa pushed Weaver out of the way as she moved further inside. The simulacrum took a pinch of mica from a pouch at her waist and threw it into the air as she completed her spell, dropping a cloud of glittery particles over the spot where the webs were disturbed.
"The Revolution will never bow to tyrants!" screamed the invisible figure suddenly outlined by Weaver's spell.
Cladissa stepped out of the way of the man's dagger and cast a spell. The man disappeared, his dagger clattering to the ground. In seconds, Cladissa's familiar, a sleek black cat appeared, streaking across the room.
::Cole!:: Cladissa thought harshly at her familiar. The cat paused where he ended up, at the top of a shelf full of curios and nick-knacks. He looked at her disdainfully, then spat out a small yellow songbird.
::Talk to him. Does he remember who he is?::
Cole meowed at the bird. It chirped back. Cole shook his head.
::Then take him to join the others::
As the sylvanshee led the songbird through the palace, Cladissa looked uneasily at Weaver. "I dislike doing that. I promise I'll restore them eventually."
Weaver smiles sympathetically. "I know. I understand."
The pair go back out on the balcony to watch the preparations. ::So, you think any of the old gang will show?:: Weaver projected to Cladissa.
::I hope so. Though, it's all so different now. Everything's changed. Argor, Thrassk, Gianluca... it feels like a lifetime ago. But, it'll be nice to see them. If they decide to come::
More people cheered as they saw the pair at the balcony. "We'll know soon enough."
The streets of Isarn were alive in a way they hadn’t been in years. People were seeing sights and sounds they had only heard of in tales handed down their families. One such sight includes a growing font of blue and white energy that builds quickly and culminates in a flash within the courtyard in front of the palace! When the light subsides, standing in its place is an immaculately dressed group of people. At the center stands Argor Constantine, holding onto his staff in one hand and his other resting on the shoulder of a small boy. The child is well dressed as well, and has dark hair like his father. On the other side of the wizard is another child, a half-elf with honey blonde hair and golden eyes. Sitting perched upon his shoulder is a small pseudodragon with black scales who chirps excitedly as he looks around.
Behind Argor stands a man with long brown hair and stark green eyes. He wears mithral plate armor and carries in his hands a very sleek looking glaive. He scans the area for any potential threats with a well trained eye. Also in the retinue are a scholarly man who kneels down to check on the children after their teleportation, though he himself seems a bit uneasy. Also, in tow is a man who seems to be the personal attendant for Argor.
After looking around, Argor goes through the practiced motion of a summoning, and Adrenia appears in short order alongside them all. She is clad in her gleaming armor, and looks around at the hustle and bustle of the awakening city with an excited eye.
”Children,” Argor speaks up, ”mind Master Lucius if I am not around. And remember,” he pauses as he turns to Cai’nan, ”there is to be NO mischief. This is an important event for both this nation and for the diplomatic ties with Absalom. Do not embarrass me.”
”Sir?” the footman asks as he steps forward.
”Go and arrange appropriate lodging for our retinue, Valos. Captain Atraxis will accompany you for safety,” Argor commands. He turns to his captain anticipating his protest, but he waves it off before it is spoken and says ”I am perfectly safe, Captain.”
As the two men break off to go find a fine inn, the rest of the retinue advances towards the palace and the growing crowd there. ”You see, children, what I said about being early? Even now the crowd is growing larger. Being early saves you considerable time that would be spent simply waiting your place in queue.”
As they approach the attendants at the door, Argor hands the man his invitation and says simply ”Argor Constantine, of House Constantine. High Councilman of Absalom. This is my son Cai’nan, my ward Honey Kailani, their tutor and guardian Lucius, and my personal guard, Adrenia,” by way of introduction for the group.
And to think, all these years, I just thought I was keeping some old family letters safe for her, Jeevika thought upon seeing the invitation.
She spent the next few days in constant contact with Argor. Since Jeevika's three daughters were currently fostering with the Blakros-Constantine family, he forwarded the invitation to Shiloh, Honey, and Galatea on her behalf. Their responses had been... interesting.
"I can't wait to see how she fails this time! ...Actually, I don't. I'm not going. I'll probably die if I did," Shiloh had replied.
I have no idea why Shy dislikes Cladissa, Jeevika thinks.
"I'd rather not attend," Galatea had said. "Galt isn't safe."
Jeevika had insisted that Argor just accept Galatea's wishes on the matter.
"Classy's coronation?! I'd love to go!" had been Honey's eager response. "Will Papa be there?"
Honey Kailani was probably Cladissa's biggest fan. Meanwhile, she loved getting to see Gianluca. There had been no question that she would be attending.
Jeevika herself used a Wind Walk spell to fly from the Kailani Estate in Erages to Isarn. Accompanying her were the first two of her Silver Sentinels: Yulia Rockne and Ivan of Irrisen. The plan was for Yulia to help Lucius watch her daughter Honey. Meanwhile, Ivan would be accompanying Jeevika.
So much has changed... Jeevika thinks upon seeing Isarn for the first time in over thirty years. The city looks much more... peaceful than it had back then. The last time she had been here...
Jeevika was still trying to figure out what had possessed those rogue Gray Gardeners to kidnap several of the Kyoni nobility's half-elf children. Officially, it was to extract a king's ransom from their parents without having to worry about war. After all, why would Kyonin go to war over a bunch of half-elves?
However, the rogue Gray Gardeners had really underestimated just how much parents like Jeevika loved their kids.
"Sabrina and Setsuna were two of the kidnapped children," Jeevika had explained to Argor. "That's why Galatea doesn't want to attend."
After Jeevika had helped rescue the children, Queen Telandia Edasseril had tasked her with cleaning up the political fallout. The incident had been the first real test of Jeevika's diplomatic skills, but she had worked out a deal where both Kyonin and Galt would just pretend the whole thing never happened. Meanwhile, the kidnappings had been the event to kickstart the Half-Elven Civil Rights Movement that Jeevika currently championed.
...I'd have to kill Treerazer to get those reforms through, Jeevika sighs internally.
And yet, in less than a decade, Cladissa had accomplished something similar; she had brought some much needed sanity and reform to Galt. Jeevika deeply respected her friend for her accomplishments.
"Jeevika Kailani of Kyonin, Her Majesty's Ambassador to Varisia and Galt," Jeevika says to the people working the door. She hands over or waves whatever fancy papers are required. "These are my family's bodyguards: Yulia Rockne and Ivan."
"Mama!" Jeevika hears all of ten seconds after getting inside. A second later, she finds a small individual wrapping tiny arms around her waist. Jeevika smiles and returns the hug.
"Lovely to see you too, Honey," Jeevika whispers.
Jeevika Kailani. Kyonin Representative. Ambassador. One of the slayers of Karzoug the Runelord. Mother to the children you ward over.
Cai’nan also started to bolt reflexively to Jeevika’s side, but a gentle cough from Argor halted his steps and the pair advanced a few paces behind Honey. Argor’s staff clicked to rest as he came to a stop a few feet away before he said ”Lady Kailani. A pleasure as always.”
Cai’nan looked up and smiled and said ”Hi Aunt Jee-“ before he is cut short by a stern nudge from Argor’s elbow. He looks down sheepishly and returns to decorum. ”I mean, good day, Lady Kailani.”
Argor nodded and gave Jeevika a perturbed look and added ”I’ve been trying to teach the children the proper forms of address and some courtly customs so that they present themselves appropriately. It hasn’t been the easiest of lessons.”
"Likewise, Lord Constantine," Jeevika replies formally. She and Argor typically spoke more casually in private, but today, he is the representative of Absalom, and she is the representative of Kyonin. As such, the two have appearances to keep.
Looking to Cai'nan, Jeevika smiles.
"Hello, Cai'nan," she whispers gently. "Good day to you as well."
With the "formal" greetings out of the way (and Honey having returned back to Argor's side), Jeevika turns to Yulia and Ivan.
"Yulia, Ivan, this is Lord Argor Constantine," Jeevika says before adding all the necessary titles. "He was instrumental in helping me successfully complete our... project."
Project Silver Sentinel. Back in Kyonin, Jeevika has been seeing signs that another conflict with Treerazer is imminent. That had been a major reason why she had asked Argor to foster her daughters for a few years in Absalom. If all went well, Project Silver Sentinel would be Jeevika's way of protecting her family, friends, and nation.
Jeevika had based the idea on Sabrina's final adventure: being part of an incredible group of heroes who had saved Absalom against overwhelming odds. In her mind, the Silver Sentinels would be elite super warriors who protected House Kailani, Kyonin, and Golarion from evil. They would have the benefits of quantity and quality. Argor had been instrumental in making the second part a reality.
If only the perfected serum wasn't so difficult to make, Jeevika thinks longingly.
Pushing her thoughts aside, Jeevika focuses back on reality. Today is Cladissa's big day. There is no need to worry about the future right this moment.
"How have you been, Lord Constantine?" Jeevika asks, well aware that Argor operates on a different timescale than even an old elf like her. The last time the two had seen each other had been Eleanir's funeral. However, Jeevika has no idea how long ago that was for Argor.
Cladissa paced as the hour grew near. It didn't feel real; the date of her official coronation had been set nearly a year ago and she'd always harbored some measure of doubt that it would actually happen. Old pains of old failures haunted her dreams during the few hours of sleep she allowed herself each night. Nightmares of the nation falling into chaos the moment she accepted the crown had awakened her too many times as the date approached.
Last night, however, she slept soundly. She didn't know if that was a good sign or bad, so she tried not to speculate. She paced.
The lord captain of the Isarn People's Police Force interrupted her pacing. "Milady,"
She snapped to attention. "Yes, what is it?" she asked, concern in her voice.
"Ioin duMonde reporting. Night patrols have all checked in. A few drunken revelers, one bar brawl, a little graffiti, and two instances of sexual assault. Otherwise, a quiet night, ma'am."
Cladissa let out a breath she'd been holding. She nodded, cleared her throat and addressed him. "Thank you for that report. Tell all your people good job."
"Thank you, ma'am. All morning patrols are stationed or conducting their rounds. It's looking to be a lovely morning in Isarn."
Cladissa couldn't keep the smile off her face. When you know the trick to control weather, you always had nice weather for your special day. She made sure it would be a balmy day, sunny for warmth with a bit of clouds for some occasional shade and a nice temperate breeze. The rains of the prior week to make sure everything was bright and green were her doing as well.
"Very good, Captain. Remain vigilant."
"Yes, your Highness." Captain duMonde nodded, spun, and left.
====================
As Jeevika and her family reunites with Argor and his, the festival atmosphere is abuzz. A massive stage has been built in front of the Palais with a lush lawn within the walls surrounding the structure. The gates are all open, and the streets leading up to the Palais are already filled with people and vendors sharing savory treats.
In a somewhat sobering detail, acolytes of numerous faiths are wandering through the crowds, offering to cast detect poison on the various displays of foodstuffs and upon request.
The members of the Absalom and Kyonin delegations see a contingent of Dwarves flying the Five Kings Mountains standard, and another pavilion flying the Andoran flag.
Though the atmosphere is in general a jovial and positive affair, there is a section of the crowd surrounding one of the gates to the Palais and chanting, "No witch for Galt! No witch for Galt!"
The chanting quiets down as a firebrand at the center, raised on a small dais, points in the direction of the delegates. "You see? The witch summons more wizards and sorcerers to her side! Elves and Dwarves and outsiders! We say no! We say no! Galt for Galt! Galt for Galt!"
The people surrounding him take up the new chant, echoing, "Galt for Galt! Galt for Galt!"
Argor eyes the protesters with an annoyed glance.
Rebels. Not your jurisdiction. Cladissa does not want your help. Remain distant.
”Papa...” a concerned Cai’nan asks at his side.
”Ignore the rabble rousers. People will always hate those they do not understand, and the vast majority of the world do not have the mental faculties to properly grasp the intricacies of magic,” Argor says stoically.
”But...what if they attack?” the boy asks nervously.
Argor audibly scoffs. ”They are of no threat. And were they foolish to try such an ignorant act, they’d soon learn as much.”
He then turns to Jeevika and says ”Shall we proceed inside? This incessant chanting is a nuisance easily avoided by the presence of fine stone walls.”
Jeevika frowns slightly when the "Elves" are singled out. Despite being only half-elven and not even Kyoni, Yulia just rolls her eyes. Meanwhile, if looks could kill, Ivan's glare would probably have killed all the protestors where they stood.
They pose no threat to us, Argor, Jeevika thinks. Her gaze falls briefly on the scared Cai'nan and the confused Honey. But to our children...
"I believe that would be wise, Lord Constantine," Jeevika agrees, gently ushering Honey toward the safety behind those "fine stone walls" Argor just mentioned.
As the group makes their way inside, Argor busies himself with speaking with delegates and ambassadors from the various delegations, some of which he seems quite familiar with. In doing so, his attention is quite drawn away...
Cai’nan leans over to Honey and says ”This is boring. Why does dad even like this stuff?”
He spots a magnificent looking black cat walking along the edge of the room, studying the guests thoroughly in the way cats do. Cai’nan gets an excited look on his face and nudges Honey and says ”Look! A kitty!” He then takes her hand and says excitedly, but quietly ”Come on!” as he begins heading for the feline.
Annie, one of Cladissa's servants approached with a bow. "You don't need to do that, Annie. Just speak," she told the girl. Her household staff had grown nearly exponentially in the months leading up to the ceremony because there had been so much to do. She hated the fact that she needed so many people around her, but it was inevitable.
Cladissa was being sewn into her dress by a team of seamstresses. She was standing stiffly in her chambers to avoid the needles as they affixed the layers of fabrics over her, deftly disguising her spider appendages. One of her demands had been to be able to shed the heavy outer garments quickly in case there was an attack. The only way to accomplish that was to be sewn into the dress.
Annie rose, flushing. "Yes, ma'am. Um, the delegation from Absalom just... poofed onto the lawn. And the Elves are also outside."
Cladissa waited for a moment, then asked, "Their names?"
The girl gapsed. "Oh! Argor Conandine of Absalom, and Jeelani Keevika of Kyolin."
An eyebrow arched. The girl blanched. "I'm sorry, mum. Was it Argor Constipine? No. Um."
">Sigh< Nevermind. I know them. You can work on this. There's lots of names downstairs. You can go meet with the dwarves and get their names. Pay closer attention this time."
"Yes ma'am." The girl rushes off.
Still immobile under the seamstresses's ministrations, Cladissa's eyes glance to the nearby alcove. ::Weaver, why don't you go greet our guests?:: The simulacrum steps out with a broad smile on her face. She rushes off.
==================
A retinue of guards stand at attention as the delegations enter the Palais. A herald announces their arrival. They can see a contingent of delegates from Taldor involved in a discussion with some Galtan officials. A pair of Chelaxian delegates sip wine by themselves near a corner.
The young lad rushes after the kitty. The black cat meows once, and leads the youth (and anyone with him) through a side door into an intimate dining room. The cat appears on the table, then fades into mist and swirls around the boy. It rematerializes into a cat, twining around his legs and purring loudly.
While Cai'nan (and maybe Honey) is chasing around a black cat in an adjacent room, a woman in a regal dress with violet glowing eyes and luxurious black hair approaches the two delegations.
With an extremely warm smile, the woman curtsies formally to Jeevika and Argor. "On behalf of Galt and Queen Cladissa, I bid you welcome. We have only two hours before the ceremony, but Cladissa has asked that I escort you to see her." She looks intently at Argor. ::It's very good to see you again::
Weaver glances around. "Where's your children? I'm sooo looking forward to meeting them!"
Argor was busy speaking with the Chelaxian dignitary when Cladissa began her descent down some stairs and into the main foyer. His eyes were immediately transfixed.
Cladissa. Angry. Cast you aside. Not you. She doesn’t know that. Tell her. No, too many risk deviations. She can handle herself. No, too risky.
Then the...thing...makes it’s introduction that indicated that it was not in fact Cladissa. Argor’s mind suddenly calmed and became very analytical as he heard it’s voice in his head.
Whatever it is...it can mimic her abilities. That narrows things down.
He was just about to reply and ask for her name when she inquired as to the presence of his child. Argor immediately scanned the area around him before coming up empty handed. He turned a stern, cutting glare at Lucius who wilted under his gaze and immediately began searching for the youth.
With a sigh, he replies ”It would seem my heir has partaken of his rambunctious spirit and ran off, despite being firmly instructed otherwise. Any mischief he finds himself in I assure you shall be dealt with appropriately. In the mean time, lead on Miss...?” he leaves the question hanging, still not certain how to address this copy...
Cai’nan giggled heartily as the cat performed it’s magic trick! When it began weaving in his legs and rubbing them, he sat down and began running his hands through its fur. ”Hi there! What’s your name kitty?”
Throughout her and Argor's various conversations, Jeevika keeps a close eye on Honey; her senses are not as honed as those of her grandmother, but the effects of different spells can almost get her there. Honey handles herself very well. In fact, it might just be her monochrome eyes playing tricks on her, but Jeevika sometimes thinks she sees Argor smile whenever he introduces Honey, who always handles the formalities perfectly.
Until, when they think no one is looking, Cai'nan pulls her away to chase a cat. Jeevika lets them have their fun. She still signals for Yulia to keep an eye on the two.
"Last I saw her, my daughter Honey was with Lord Constantine's heir Cai'nan," Jeevika remarks.
"I think that's Cole," Honey whispers to Cai'nan. "Sabby's journals talk about a cat named Cole who could turn into mist."
Cai’nan just continues smiling with childlike glee. ”Hi Cole! You are a pretty kitty cat!” he says as he continues petting the feline.
"You are very handsome, Cole," Honey agrees. She moves to scratch the feline behind the ears. According to Sabrina's journals, Cole enjoyed that.
The woman nods her head again. "I am known as Weaver. The architect of Cladissa's restoration efforts. And don't do anything to your kids, please. It's so exciting to get to meet them. I'll take you to Cladissa, then find them. I'm still pretty good at tracking people. Please, follow me. Cladissa is in preparations for the ceremony, but she has a few minutes to spare for her dear friends."
She turns and leads Argor and Jeevika up an elaborate staircase that still smells of fresh paint and recent construction. She takes them past additional guards and other bustling servants going up several more flights until they are very near the top level of the Palais.
Weaver stops at a heavy set of doors. A pair of spider legs extend out and tap a few lines of heavy spider silk. After a few seconds, the doors open wide and Weaver steps aside. "Her majesty awaits," Weaver says with a bow.
Inside, being attended by a gaggle of seamstresses applying various fabrics, is Cladissa. Her violet eyes are not spilling energy like they used to, and her face is rounder and more open and innocent. She beams brightly when she sees the delegates enter.
"Argor! Jeevika! You'll forgive me if I don't hug you??"
==================
The cat purrs even louder. "Why, thank you. What are your names?" the black cat says in a surprisingly rich voice.
Argor continued to study the creation as they ascended the stairwells. Once beckoned inside, Argor nodded to the creation and then stepped into the room, laying his eyes on Cladissa for the first time in centuries.
Remain calm. She has changed. She is a queen now. And still doesn’t want you around in any capacity beyond formalities. But that could be remedied. Tell her the truth. Apologize. Too much at risk. Too many eventualities. Remain cautious.
”Most certainly, Your Highness,” Argor says with a respectful bow.
Cai’nan gasps when the cat talks, but then just grows even more excited. ”I’m Cai’nan! Nice to meet you! I didn’t know some cats could talk! Or turn into clouds!”
"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Cole!" Honey says with a grin. "My name is Honey. I'm Sabrina's younger sister."
"Of course, Cladissa!" Jeevika replies with a kind smile. "Lovely to see you again. It always is."
Vince, Atticus, Sabrina... They would be so proud of you right now.
Cladissa's face is open and full of emotion. "I'm glad you came. I think... I might have done it. It's been so hard. But... here I am."
She nods somewhat stiffly towards her copy behind them. "Oh, let me introduce you to Weaver." ::She's a simulacrum I had Archmage Eugeni create for me. It's a long story, but she's been invaluable:: she sends to both delegates.
Weaver steps close to Argor. "I can hug you, at least. I don't have to worry about all that extra pomp." She opens her arms wide.
The pair's incredible senses are able to detect a few guardians lurking close by. Argor recognizes Palos Kendrosi, Cladissa's spellsword companion. He gives him a nod of his head while plucking a few notes from his instrument.
=====================
Cole shakes his tail and gives Honey an affectionate head-butt. "Only the most special cats get to talk. But all cats are special, so maybe it's only the most special kind of people that get to understand them," he says above his purr.
"Would you like to go visit the new queen? She would like to meet you."
::A clever and useful use of magic.::
Let the automaton hug you. She will appreciate it. Doing so might reveal that you were not actually who she told to stay out of her affairs. You must continue to act hurt. What harm would an embrace cause? Precisely...what harm COULD an embrace cause.
Argor simply holds up a hand. ”That is perfectly alright, thank you,” he says, halting the simulacras advance. ”It would be best if we maintained decorum for the benefit of your Queen. Would not do well for her efforts if she or her...associates...were seen being too lax in the presence of magi, based on what I witnessed in the streets upon our arrival.”
__________
Cai’nan snickers at the cats compliment, not really taking it for what it was. When the cat asks if he’d like to meet the new queen, Cai’nan grows nervous, and looks around for his father. ”Father probably wouldn’t like me to bother her. Especially without him.”
"But we wouldn't be bothering Queen Classy, Cai'nan!" Honey says, her golden eyes lighting up with excitement. "Cole said it himself; she wants to meet us."
Cai’nan looks doubtful. ”Father won’t want me running off to meet a queen without him. He’d be so mad.”
"Hmm... Well, what Lord Constantine doesn't know won't hurt him," Honey whispers like she's telling the most sacred secret in the world. "And if he finds out, I'll just say it was my idea. Which it kinda is. And if he gets angry, I'll give him The Honey Eyes. You know how he melts like butter against The Honey Eyes."
Cai’nan looks doubtful, but he is willing to follow along with Honey’s lead...
Weaver and Cladissa both make a similar nod, accepting Argor's sense of propriety. Then the two share a glance and it's evident a brief conversation takes place.
Cladissa tries to look over her shoulder as the seamstresses are affixing the train. "Oh, are they at it at Le Voix du Populi? It's a forum for the airing of grievances. A lot of the rhetoric is pretty harsh, but it's gotten a lot better in recent months! I know a lot of people are suggesting I shut it down for today, but that's just it. If I shut it down for any reason, then I'll find another reason to close it, and then all the opposition just goes underground.
"Other than Le Voix, how are things on the streets? Were you there long?"
===================
Cole shakes out his fur from all the petting. "Well, with that settled, let's go see a queen. Quiet now," he says as he slinks upstairs, leading the pair.
”We lingered just long enough to acclimate ourselves after the teleportation and then made our way inside. But giving the people a voice is a double edged sword that I’m certain you have already considered and made your decision upon in the best interests of your people, Your Majesty,” Argor replies.
___________
Cai’nan follows the cat as quietly as he can, keeping a wary eye out for his dad the entire way.
"...They sounded quite angry, Cladissa. Airing legitimate grievances is one thing. What I witnessed out there... was not that," Jeevika says.
Cladissa gives the pair a troubled look. "True, but I've got to let the Galtan people be Galtan. We are a people that speak our minds. You might recall a few instances of that between the two of us. If you can remember back that far" A playful smile suddenly fades as she suddenly regrets that comment aimed at Argor.
"I'm sorry, I--" she tries to move to face him directly and receives a series of "tuts" from the seamstresses. "I think that's enough! Any more fabric and you can just put the dress out on stage, since no one will be able to see me!" She shoos them away for a moment.
"I mean, it's been a long time for both of us. I've changed in more ways than I can guess, so, I can only assume it's like that for you. Fourth Spell Lord of Abs--."
She's interrupted again, this time by a black cat that materializes on their side of the door. He meows loudly. "Well, let them in!" Cladissa remarks, and the guards at the door react immediately. The doors to the chamber are opened, revealing a pair of young children at the threshold.
Cladissa smiles warmly at the pair. "Well, who might you be?"
Argor’s eyes widened at her quip.
How...how dare...
He was about to retort when her attention, and in turn his own, was drawn to the door. There he saw his child and ward standing there with Cole. He narrowed his blue glowing eyes at Cai’nan ominously.
The boy shrunk in silent response.
”This, Your Highness, is my overly rambunctious and mischievous heir, Cai’nan Blakros. His manners are something we are still working hard at rectifying, but falling quite short of the mark, it would seem,” Argor said coldly.
Cai’nan bows deeply, hoping to make some amends in his father’s eyes. ”Your Majesty,” he says in a squeaky, nervous voice.
Seeing her friend's terror, Honey seizes the initiative.
"And I am Honey Kailani, Your Majesty," she replies, perfectly performing the curtsy that she had learned from Lord Constantine's etiquette lessons. "Cai'nan and I are answering your summons as you requested."
Cladissa's hands clasp together as she beams at seeing the young Blakros. "Oooh! He looks so much like you! And his mother!" She smiles brightly at Cai'nan, bending over as much as her dress will allow. She then gasps at the young Kailani. "You look so much like my best friend...
"Well, hello, Mr. Cai'nan Blakros, and Miss Honey Kailani. It is an honor and privilege to meet you. You found Cole for me, didn't you? He's been so hard to find lately, I must thank you." She straightens, tapping her chin for a moment in a show of thought. Then she gasps. "I have it! I shall decree that overly rambunctious and mischievous heirs may watch the ceremony from my balcony!" She eyes Argor and Jeevika. "That is, if their parents approve.
"It's no trouble. There's nothing that can be broken that hasn't be broken already during the Revolutions."
When Cladissa mentions his mother, Cai’nan’s eyes begin to well up with tears and he simply nods, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.
”If that is what Her Majesty wishes, then it shall be done,” Argor replies stoically, his own eyes falling appraisingly to Cai’nan, but saying nothing. The way he is looking at him is almost as if he is trying to assess Cladissa’s words and finding them well off the mark.
”You may not be aware, My Lady, but Lady Blakros passed just a month ago during child birth,” Argor adds with an emotionless face. Meanwhile, tears begin trickling from Cai’nan’s eyes unabated.
At the mention of Eleanir, tears also begin to fall from Honey's golden eyes. She tentatively reaches out and takes Cai'nan's hand with her own. With her other, Honey gently pats her friend on the shoulder.
Jeevika becomes rather somber at the mention of Eleanir's passing.
Cladissa reacts with shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, Argor! I'm so sorry! I didn't know! Word didn't reach me somehow, I'm... I'm so deeply sorry!" Her eyes mist slightly, but no tears fall.
Weaver steps up and touches Argor on the shoulder, her face a mirror of sorrow and sympathy.
"You said month ago? Argor, if this is too soon, I understand. You've come, I truly appreciate it." She turns to Cai'nan. "I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. She was a very good friend of mine. If you're not up to watching the ceremony, Cole can help you find some place nice in the Palais to wait until it's done. He'll stay and keep you company. Would you like that?"