CHAPTER THREE

In the fields just south of New Sandharbor, the landscape was untouched by both the new frontier of the so-called Miracle and the ongoing construction of Shan Alee's capital. On the outskirts of the arid plains in the Miracle, great effort was taken to maintain a thick and verdant pasture for expanding herds of horses.

At the fence surrounding the pasture, beside the truly enormous stables, Reyn of Rosewater leaned against the wooden fence on her elbows. She stood with her ankles crossed and back arched, relaxing in the warm summer sun as she watched a knot of horses frolic about.

Reyn watched one in particular and felt a stab of annoyance.

"Uncooperative monster," she muttered.

Spider was none other than the personal horse of the Dragon Empress. He was healthy and strong despite his getting on in age. Remarkably so, even for the famous longevity of Gaulatian horses. There were many Gaulatians among the herds, and Spider was easily identified as the most impressive of them all. His shiny brown coat and black mane were just the first signs of how well-cared for he'd been throughout his life, and over the last year, he'd been happier than ever before.

Spider had gone from being a prize horse in the previous Lord Merovech's stable to being awarded to a blacksmith as part of the crown's gift of service. He'd then spent twenty years serving a comfortable if uninteresting life as a cart horse. Then came the day he was taken into the service of a sky woman who would soon become the Dragon Empress of Shan Alee. Since that time, Spider carried crown princes on his back. Princesses and prince regents. He fought royal assassins and rode into battle against warrior kings. For a seasoned veteran like Spider, serving his empress was paradise.

Why then would the dratted fool not take his reward?

"You can't force these things, Minister," Reyn's companion at the fence stated.

Reyn hummed acknowledgement. "I know, my lady. However, I assisted my mother often with her herds, and I have never met a stallion so disinterested in healthy mares."

Lady Teela Brandyn, the Imperial Horsemaster and owner of these pasturelands, nodded in agreement. "You're not wrong. Blustering out of the ordinary, for sure. I mean, I know how hard it was to find breeding stock like what you found, but as soon as you put them in the same corral... nothing."

Reyn scrunched up her face with irritation and brushed some of her red hair from her eyes. "I provide him with a harem, and he treats them as his daughters. Just look at them." She indicated Spider as he joyfully tossed his head while a half-dozen of the most beautiful mares to ever walk the earth pranced in his wake. "My dreams of a new Aleesh breed of horse are swiftly crumbling. If only we still had Scorpion. He would have put foals in all of them by now."

Lady Teela was a young woman to have had such a successful career in the Althandi legions. She'd served two years within the West Legion commanded by Hierarch Ambrose the Merovech before his death. In so short a time, she earned enough distinction as a scout and outrider to be granted a sizable herd of horses as part of the crown's gift awarded at the end of service. In the months since her father claimed his title as a new noble of Shan Alee, Lady Teela's herds had expanded exponentially upon her appointment as Empress Enfri's horsemaster.

She was not tall, especially in comparison to Reyn. Althandi women were often diminutive, and Teela was no different. Black hair of middling length, delicate facial features, and narrow brown eyes with an epicanthic fold were typical of her race. Teela possessed an admirable athleticism, and she maintained it after the recent birth of her first child. It was no stretch of the imagination to picture Teela riding along the outskirts of a skirmish with her bow drawn.

Teela leaned on the fence next to Reyn. "Scorpion was a Gaulatian bred more for speed than Spider. And you were hoping to get a guerrier's size and strength in those mares' foals."

"Yes, which is why-" Reyn cupped her hands around her mouth and raised her voice to shout at Spider in the pasture. "-someone needs to get rutting!"

Spider looked her way and blew out his nostrils in a plainly directed rebuke. He then resumed his play with his adopted daughters.

"Old coot," Reyn grumbled. "Dratted celibate grandfather of a horse."

"I'm still not used to not calling him Dimmer," Teela chuckled. "Winds, what a terrible name for a warhorse. Pa owes Spider an apology for that."

Reyn was still plotting up ways to force the issue. There was always the turkey baster method of insemination. One way or another, Spider was going to be sire for the future kings of all horses, or Reyn's name wasn't Reyn Nolaas, First Minister of Shan Alee.

Well, that wasn't her name just yet, but it would be this coming Month of Frost. Her betrothed had always dreamed of a winter wedding, and Reyn couldn't deny Starra anything.

As if summoned by thoughts of Starra, Reyn's soon-to-be father-in-law came striding up towards the fence. It was rare to see Lord Seifer the Nolaas on his own. As of late, he usually went about his errands with either his eldest daughter Shaan, his valet, or both. It spoke to his good relationship with House Brandyn that he felt comfortable enough to come here without escort.

"My dear Reyn," Lord Seifer said warmly as he came near. "I didn't expect to find you here. What a pleasant surprise."

Reyn pushed away from the fence and bobbed a hurried curtsy, an awkward thing to do while wearing leggings and not a skirt. She always felt awkward around Lord Seifer. Of all the nobles she'd met throughout her life, he was by far the closest to what she'd always imagined an ideal nobleman to be. Handsome, genteel, chivalrous, charming, and fashionable. Reyn knew of so many who could only attempt to approach the true, lordly manner that Seifer exuded so naturally.

"My lord, I did not expect to see you here, either."

"Ah, ah," Seifer admonished kindly with a raised forefinger. "We have discussed this."

Reyn blushed and had difficulty looking him in the eye. "Yes... Father."

Seifer smiled, and Reyn felt her head swim with the simple joy of being welcomed so readily into a new family. She adored Seifer and that he wanted to have her for his daughter. Good and kind people were both why the world was worth saving and how it could be saved.

Turning from Reyn, Seifer offered a formal bow to Teela. "I actually came to speak with you, Horsemaster."

Teela grinned as she held out her hand. Seifer took it and lightly kissed her fingertips. Teela managed to suppress a pleased giggle, if only just. Former soldier and new mother or not, Teela was a woman, and Seifer was as beautiful a man as ever lived.

It wasn't just Seifer's refined cheekbones, his long and shining white hair, his perfectly unblemished gray complexion, the sparkle in his red eyes, or even the hint of danger suggested by his fangs. Not just his fashionable waistcoat, walking cane, silk cravat, ruby earrings, or his top hat, either. Not any one of those things, but all together they became almost too much to bear.

"I came to ask after your husband, my lady," Seifer said. He removed his top hat with a subtle flourish and held it over his heart. "With the new construction about my estate, I am most interested in engaging his expertise in forestry. It is my hope to preserve as much of the natural beauty of this countryside upon the grounds as I can manage."

"I'll be sure to let him know, my lord," Teela said, and Reyn marveled at how composed she kept herself. "Nchika has his hands full, but I can promise he'll make the time for you."

"That would be greatly appreciated, my lady," Seifer replied. "Please, do give my best to your father."

"I will, my lord."

Reyn inclined her head to Teela. "I must return to my duties. Thank you for listening to my sullen complaining."

Teela gave her a smile and a nod. "Course, Minister. I don't turn away anyone what knows what they're talking about where it comes to horses. You're welcome here anytime."

Reyn gave a farewell curtsy, then turned hopefully towards Seifer. Her future father-in-law offered her his arm, and Reyn happily took it as they walked from the pasture towards the road.

"It's quite a long trek from the palace to here," Seifer observed. "Did you come by dragon?"

"No, I walked," Reyn said. "I must keep my leg exercised."

Seifer patted her hand sympathetically. "The wound still pains you, my dear?"

"Which is another thing I would like explained to me," Reyn huffed. "I grew up among the selkies of Rosewater, but I was the first to ever truly enter into the study of arcanology. No one from my community had a satisfactory answer for the hows and whys of our nature. Why is it that when I shift my legs to my tail that the injury is gone, yet when I shift back, it remains? It is maddening."

Seifer hummed thoughtfully. "Wholly different from dragons, who keep their injuries through whatever form they assume. They can use polymorphy to heal themselves if they lack a bond with a knight, but the regenerated tissue remains an artificial construct until their imprint adapts to the change."

"You see the conundrum," Reyn said. They came to the road where Seifer had a steam-carriage waiting with a pair of House Nolaas armsmen and a harpy driver. "Shifters are, more or less, descended from dragons, though the bloodlines passed through the proteurim before arriving at modern day shifters. Our abilities derive from the polymorphic nature of the mighty. Why can we not patch ourselves temporarily with polymorphy as they can?"

Seifer tapped a forefinger against his lips in consideration. "I am afraid my own proficiency in arcanology is deficient compared to yours, my dear. Have you perhaps asked Dragon Lord Thaan for his theories?"

"It is difficult showing my face to him," Reyn said, lowering her eyes. She let Seifer assist her into the carriage and sat primly on one of the upholstered benches. "Lady Huunaa Thaan is still trapped in the west, and we remain unable to rescue her and Lord Haldi."

"Has there been no word at all?" Seifer asked as he settled in across from her. The steam-carriage soon hissed and sputtered to life before starting up the road.

"Intermittent," Reyn sighed. "With the return of ley lines to the west, I had hoped the barriers to recovering them could be swiftly resolved. However, the Glorious Emperor-" Reyn spoke the title with a sneer. "-has not been idle. Translocational wards over so great an area... Master Deveaux is driving his arcanists as close to death as he can without undermining his efforts. Lord Haldi's last sending was two weeks ago, before there was simply no place left in the Jade Empire where a sending can be given or received."

"They have kept themselves hidden from the Gray Lotus this long," Seifer said to reassure her. "They will continue to do so. I know how responsible you feel for their situation, my dear, but you must remember that you did all you could."

"I have not," Reyn said softly. "Not yet, I have not."

Seifer smiled wanly. "Three months since there's been word from the People of Jade."

"They attempted to murder me and my entire delegation," Reyn said. "The empress knows it, and they know she knows it. The Jade Empire revealed that they are led by none other than one of the old masters. Carinae has survived countless eons by dwelling in shadow. Perhaps being revealed in the light is beyond the demon's ability."

Seifer nodded. "The hidden war between demons and humanity has gone on since the beginning of the last era. It began with one Shan Alee, and one way or another, it will end with Shan Alee." He removed his silk gloves and folded them into the breast pocket of his waistcoat. "This shall all end soon. Starra assures me that Althandor is heeding the threat, and the Highest King has passed it down to every one of his vassals. This is no longer a shadow war. Sides are being clearly drawn."

"I fear nothing is clear where it concerns the old masters," Reyn said. "They must surely have a hand in the Teulite Horde's invasion of Gaulatia. Now Pacifica receives word of an alliance of lords in the south forming under the banner of a suspected demon thrall. And to cap it all off, Her Majesty's aunt and the so-called Knights of Alinwé."

Seifer hummed thoughtfully. "You do not trust Elise's claims, then?"

"I would sooner trust a scale lion."

"Good. I'm pleased we are on the same page in that regard."

Reyn shifted in her seat and wrung her hands together in her lap. "I worry for the king's coming visit. I no longer doubt his desire for peace, but things have changed much since I last spoke with him in the Imperial City."

"His daughter," Seifer murmured. He dropped his gaze and rested his hands on the head of his cane. "Were I in his place, had I extended my hand to an enemy in the hopes of reuniting with one of my daughters, and then learned that daughter acted against them, I cannot say I would still want peace."

"The provisional treaty still stands," Reyn said, mostly to reassure herself. "Cathis has not revoked his recognition of Shan Alee's borders. Aleesh are given safe conduct throughout the Five Kingdoms. In all regards, he has acted in good faith and afforded the Dragon Empress the rights due to a vassal sovereign. All that remains is for him to formally accept Her Majesty's fealty, and I cannot say what will happen when they meet face to face for the first time."

"You very much want this alliance to succeed," Seifer observed.

"Of course, my lord. Err... that is to say... Yes, Father, I do. Her Majesty has always strived to make her people part of the Five Kingdoms."

Seifer exhaled softly. "Does she still?"

Reyn's lips parted at the question. She didn't want to believe that Enfri would turn from her path now, even after Jin's betrayal. Even so, Enfri was a young woman who had suffered terrible heartbreak. Even if the Dragon Empress wanted to turn away Althandor's offer of peace, Reyn didn't think she could let her.

"I must believe she does," Reyn said.

It was a terrible situation. All Reyn could do was see how it went, and if necessary, take these rulers by the ear until they did the sensible thing. The stakes were too high to let their personal feelings get in the way.

"I do thank you for the ride, Father," Reyn said as the steam-carriage approached the Imperial Palace.

"Much yet to do today?" Seifer asked.

"Today, tomorrow, and as far into the future as I can immediately see."

"I understand completely, my dear. Do come by the estate now and again. While my daughter is away, I feel a little closer to her while you are near."

Reyn appreciated the sentiment more than she thought she could say. She satisfied herself by accepting Seifer's assistance out of the carriage. After pleasant farewells were exchanged and the steam-carriage rolled away again, Reyn found that her arrival had not gone unnoticed.

"Ma belle," Reyn whispered as Pacifica came to her side. It was supremely difficult not to take Pacifica's face into her hands and kiss her deeply. It wouldn't be proper while in full view of the several dozen people who bustled about in front of the palace.

"Sila moya," Pacifica whispered in return, and it made it that much harder to not kiss her.

Somehow, Reyn resisted temptation. "How was the duel?"

"Another resounding victory for House Yora," Pacifica sighed. Despite the crowd of potential gossips, she placed her hand on Reyn's hip as they stood close. "The Guardian agreed to Ban's idea."

Reyn hummed in approval. "Was it Narhta Inaz Lord Bannlyth chose in the end?"

"It was," Pacifica said. She took Reyn by the arm and led her into the palace. They went at once for the northwest wing where Reyn kept her quarters. "Were you the one who checked up on the sergeant?"

"Somewhat. I learned enough of him from his paramour to give his name to Lord Bannlyth."

For some reason, Pacifica's eyes went wide. "So, he is courting. Is it serious?"

"I would wager so," Reyn said. "She seemed to believe it serious, at least. And I found her to be lovely. An Aleesh harpy woman."

Pacifica's eyes went even wider. "He's courting a shifter?"

Reyn gave her an arched eyebrow. "As are you."

"Come off it. I'm just pleasantly surprised, is all. There's enough bigots in the legion as it is, so I'm glad we have proof Inaz isn't one of them."

"Speaking of harpies," Reyn continued, "are you aware of the attack yesterday."

Pacifica frowned. "No. What happened?"

"A patrol of the Quartz Knights encountered a flock of proteurim harpies in the Miracle. They were assaulting a caravan of settlers. No one was killed, but there were injuries before the Quartz Knights drove them away."

Pacifica let out a heavy breath. "Proteurim. Waves, but things are just getting worse out there, aren't they?"

Reyn sighed. "I am afraid the reappearance of proteurim in such numbers is not painting Shan Alee in a favorable light among the other kingdoms. My kind is openly welcomed here. We even have shifter nobility. There is talk throughout the Continent that Her Majesty is herself a shifter. All the calm explanations in the world that shifters and proteurim are not the same thing has not stopped us being called an empire of demons."

Pacifica winced. "I'm glad you said it. I didn't want to."

"I know, ma belle. Your diplomatic nature is another reason I am in love with you."

Pacifica blushed. "Just remember that when you and Starra are married. I can handle you two having your time as newlyweds, but I won't stand by forever."

"Of course not, ma belle."

"And soon after that, I think it'll have been long enough that we can start telling people about you and me. Not even Ban has figured it out yet, and he's weirdly good at figuring out who's rendezvousing with whom. We've certainly left enough evidence."

Now it was Reyn's turn to blush. "My lady..."

Pacifica smirked.

"I would not mind setting Lord Bannlyth on Starra. She has not yet told me who her mysterious new paramour is."

Pacifica blinked. "Really? She hasn't? Last time I talked with her, I got the feeling she was going to introduce you soon."

That aroused Reyn's suspicions. "Do you know who it is? As her apprentice, you would be privy to much of what she is up to."

"I'm not her apprentice anymore," Pacifica reminded her. "Not since Adar and I got our bond back. I'm back to being My Ascendent's apprentice."

"Do not try to deflect me," Reyn said. "Out with it."

"I don't know," Pacifica insisted. "All I know is what Starra's confided in me. She's worried you won't approve of her. She's also worried I won't approve for some reason."

"Your opinion matters to Starra."

"And I appreciate that, but I don't feel like it's my place to have a say in her romances."

"Neither do I. Starra may court or dally with whomever she wishes."

"Yes, but you'll be married soon. Starra thinks that'll change some of the understandings of our whole dynamic."

"Well, I am sure it will," Reyn admitted, "but I am not her minder. She is a grown woman, as am I. I trust her judgement as much as I trust yours."

Pacifica smiled patiently. "Yes, but might I just say you're allowed a little jealousy? Sometimes I feel a twinge of it when you're with Starra, and I know she feels a little of the same when you're with me."

"I am too busy knowing I am the luckiest selkie in the world."

Pacifica grunted. "Flatterer. Maybe I ought try out this multiple lover thing and see about getting some possessiveness out of you."

Reyn blinked. "Is that what you want?"

"Another lover? No, not at all."

"The second part, then."

"Sometimes. Yes. I think even Starra's a little put out you haven't been more insistent about who she's been seeing in the Spired City. She knows it's not true, but it makes her feel like you haven't asked because you don't care."

Reyn looked ahead and furrowed her brow. "I see. Thank you, ma belle. I did not realize. I will make more of an effort."

"It's one thing to say that," Pacifica pressed. "You have to follow through."

Reyn nodded. "Of course. I will. The next I see Starra, I will tell her."

Pacifica had a wicked grin on her face as they came to the door to Reyn's chambers. "Good, because she got back an hour ago."

And she promptly threw open the door, pushed Reyn inside, and shut it again. Reyn had only a moment to register that Pacifica hadn't followed her in before she was wrapped in a vampire's embrace.

"About time, dear one. I'm utterly famished."

Reyn was allowed a moment to kiss Starra hello before a pair of fangs sank into her neck. Things went fuzzy, and the last thing Reyn remembered thinking about was the image of Pacifica tossing a steak into the pen of a starving wolf.

oOo

Krayson wasn't entirely certain of what it was he should be doing.

The Temple of the Warding Light was among the newer structures in New Sandharbor. Its construction had only concluded a month ago, but it was currently the only completely finished place of worship in the capital.

It was a tall building, currently the tallest in the empire. It was three stories over even the Imperial Palace. Some saw that as unseemly, but Krayson knew Her Majesty was actually relieved to have her home get surpassed early on. The temple was made from marble, not natural marble but transmuted from limestone to save on costs. It was then spellwrought into an impressive array of arches and spires that became the most distinctive part of New Sandharbor's skyline. The dragons took it upon themselves to make the Warding Light's temple into a work of art and put all their architectural ability into making it worthy of Shan Alee's patron god.

There were shrines just about everywhere to as many dogmas as existed. Religion was and would remain an important facet to the lives of many people, so it was to be expected. At least four other temples were slated to be built in and around the city. The next scheduled to be finished belonged to the Lively Zephyr, the regional wind god that had been honored in Old Sandharbor for generations. The two others Krayson knew of were dedicated to Mother Sun and the Deep One, the patron deities of Melcia and Nadia respectively. Krayson assumed this was because of Shan Alee's place on the heavily travelled trade route between Adezu and Drok Moran, and merchants were surprisingly devout more often than not.

Conspicuous in their absence, the clergymen of the Lord of Bones were not welcome in Shan Alee. It would've been an unconscionable move in less tumultuous times to forbid an entire dogma, but it was a decree from the Highest King himself. A decree Shan Alee was willing to obey. When a god revealed himself as a demon, good and decent folk no longer had any place among his followers.

Krayson wondered how much chaos it was causing throughout the world now that one of the more prominent dogmas on the Continent was suddenly declared outlaw.

He stood in front of the altar within the temple and stared at the jewel prominently displayed. A teardrop diamond, one with a bright flame burning from within, hovered in place in full view of any parishioner. In the months since Krayson first caught the jewel as it fell from the sky, the flame had grown. It now expanded beyond the bounds of the diamond, a fire as large as a man, and the diamond itself could only be just barely seen.

"Good to see you well," Krayson said quietly as a sort of prayer. "I'm pleased to see you've been growing."

Krayson frowned. Was he supposed to talk to a god as if he were a child? In some ways, the Warding Light could be thought of as just three months old. An infant god? Or was he ancient? The concepts that birthed him were supposed to awaken to deific awareness about two thousand years ago, and they did in a corrupted sort of way. To be honest, Krayson still had some difficulty wrapping his head around it all.

The Warding Light began as Shanothé, who was truly the demon named Sol. Shanothé became the Betrayer. The last Dragon Emperor of the old empire killed the Betrayer and Sol with him, and the original concepts that were supposed to become a god of hope and salvation were lost and forgotten within the Ethereum. He would've remained forgotten until Reyn, Krayson, and others managed to rekindle the fires deep within the Warding Light's core and return him to life with a new name. Now free of corruption, Ranton the Warding Light burned with the fires of hope in the heart of a new Shan Alee.

The flame was more than just a representation of a powerful spirit's strength. It was actually him. The flame emanating from within the jewel was the Warding Light's true form while he resided in the physical world. It was a humbling idea, and a worrisome one.

Though he was growing, Hope remained small.

Furthermore, Krayson would've hoped he'd have gotten over this by now, but Ranton's highest priest still gave him the willies.

"Back again, Brother Joshuan. Yet you claim to not be a follower of the Warding Light."

Krayson turned as Mogga approached him. The old skindancer refrained from ever using a mortal's skin to disguise his nature, and Krayson supposed that spoke well of him. It could be said Mogga had a human appearance, only he appeared as a human without skin. His musculature was exposed to the open air, and every inch of his body leaked a thin, black vapor. The sharp teeth in his mouth were only just concealed by thin flaps for lips.

Mogga wore white vestments, and it was a little surprising that they were the sort worn by clergymen of the Five Kingdoms. Krayson would've expected him to wear Aleesh attire, but it might've been because Mogga wished anyone who wasn't already familiar with the many shifters from Chaya Domun to recognize him as the temple's high priest. Particularly foreigners, Krayson assumed.

"Founder," Krayson said in greeting. "Or... forgive me, is that no longer appropriate?"

"My people still call me that, Keeper. I believe it will be a great many decades before I hear it for the last time."

Krayson nodded and thought functional immortality would be quite the thing to get used to. It almost went without saying that, aside from the old masters, Mogga was possibly the oldest entity in the world. If there were skindancers serving the old masters who were older than him, Mogga didn't know of them. Which was understandable, seeing as Mogga had cut himself off from the demons a long time ago.

Willies or not, Krayson thought it would be worth his time to sit Mogga down and listen to the story of his life throughout the ages. From what little Krayson gathered, Mogga first molted from his parent around the time the proteurim empires were at their zenith. He'd since lost count of the centuries, but Mogga said he'd put coin on being older than ten thousand years.

It made an eighteen year old arcanist feel dreadfully out of his depth whenever they spoke. Perhaps that was why it took him a moment to register what Mogga called him.

"Keeper?" he asked. "What's that?"

"Ah, yes. Sanctioned blood mages are known as blood runners in the Five Kingdoms. As old as I am, changing old habits comes slow." Mogga noted Krayson's bemused look and elaborated. "In the old empire, arcanists such as you were known as keepers. However, they were not so prolific in those times. Only the Dragon Emperor would ever receive a predecessor's bloodsong. This was his shield from sudden assassination from rivals within his family. Without a keeper, the accumulated power of the bloodline would be lost."

"Did that work?" Krayson asked.

"Not at all. The bloodsong was lost at least eight times that I know of, and they had to start all over again. I'd be shocked if the true number wasn't higher."

"The line of Inwé got rather cutthroat by the end, I see."

Mogga gave a quiet sort of snort. It sent a puff of black vapor shooting out from his nostrils. "You have no idea. Flames bless Her Majesty for being nothing like the emperors I once served."

Krayson nodded and averted his eyes, wishing that others would have seen that. One in particular.

"To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" Mogga asked. "Have I finally succeeded in converting you?"

"If only," Krayson sighed. "I'd ditch my god in a moment if I could."

Stop tempting Fate, my saint.

"Bah, they're at it again. As time goes on, the Great Spider's sense of humor is getting sicker."

The old forms must be heeded.

Mogga chuckled. "You are unique in your faith, Brother Joshuan. You're a blessed saint whose most bitter adversary is the god who chose him."

Krayson cast his eyes about for anyone nearby and gestured for quiet. "I'd rather that not become common knowledge. Most people hear someone claim to be a blessed saint and think they belong in an asylum."

"I assure you I am not among them," Mogga said. "Remember, I lived through a time when blessed saints were common. An army led by twenty-four blessed saints marched upon the Empire of Scales, and the elder bloodlines they began became the kings and queens of nations that endure to this day."

"Even just that much isn't widely known anymore," Krayson sighed. "I really only came to see him." He nodded towards the altar. "I was worried it would take longer for followers to give him their faith, and Kumo tells me it's important to the world that mortals start believing in him again."

"I do what I can to spread his dogma," Mogga assured him. "It is a kind dogma, I believe. The world can be dark, but darkness is weak. The world can be cruel, but cruelty dies. Seek the light, and you will find it."

"Those sound like commandments of a sort. Has Ranton chosen a saint to speak for him?"

"No," Mogga said, "though I pray the day will come. His flame remains small, and I question if he yet has the power to speak into a mortal's mind. More precious still would be the mortal who is in close enough alignment with him to hear his voice if he called."

Krayson thought it ironic. Spirits and gods, an observable aspect of nature through which mortals gleaned understanding of the world around them, were themselves often unknowable. Blessed saint or not, Krayson didn't have it in him to be a priest. He needed facts the way others needed air.

"Ranton's dogma is more felt than heard," Mogga continued. "And he has power. I experience this myself each time I come near him. His flame banishes the voices of the old masters from my mind, and for that alone, he has my gratitude from now until my end."

"Why would you ever leave?" Krayson asked.

"Because what I hear when I leave this temple is a window into their plans." Mogga leaned in closer, and Krayson tried to hide how uncomfortable that made him. "The six who remain are preparing. I can glean little more than that. The young one you told me of, she may hear more in their voices."

Krayson narrowed his eyes. "You think Lidya can understand them better than you can?"

"She has never been without them, and I and my sons are out of practice."

Krayson nodded. They had gotten a lot of helpful information out of Lidya. Proteurim attacks were countered before they could do too much damage. Hidden sects of demon cults were uncovered. Thralls were revealed. Even so, Krayson couldn't help but think the old masters were aware of a young skindancer helping Shan Alee. He wanted the Cabal to stop relying on her, perhaps put Lidya near the Warding Light, and give her some respite from the demonic voices that never stopped telling her how much they wished her to die.

If Starra was back as Pacifica told him, he should speak to her about it. Lidya had already proven her worth. It was past time to let the poor girl rest. If the world could allow her to.

Krayson gave Mogga his thanks and left the temple. Descending the ramp outside, Krayson found his apprentice waiting for him.

Saveen the Bastion had taken her human form. With blue skin, short white hair, and yellow eyes, she appeared as a girl of fifteen. Her cleft chin was about the only sign that she modeled her human body off a girl from Teularon, and she'd grown fond of wearing Aleesh clothing.

Calling Aleesh attire clothing was a stretch in Krayson's estimations. It covered little, but he wouldn't call it obscene— though what the higher summits wore pushed the bounds of decency when it wasn't crossing the line entirely. The ancient Aleesh and the Aleesh of Chaya Domun both saw the human body as a work of art, so they put it on display as such. Krayson could see how that would appeal to vain creatures like dragons, who often preferred they not have to wear clothing at all.

Saveen was currently wearing a silk top that crossed her chest in an X shape. It managed to cover the parts of her that should remain covered. Her divided skirt had sections cut out about the hips. She claimed it was the most comfortable skirt she ever wore, but Krayson wondered how comfortable it could be to have parts of her backside exposed to the world. Regardless, Saveen never failed to look confident in that getup, and if only for that, Krayson could let his sensibilities slide.

"What are you doing here?" Krayson asked as he reached her. "There's no lessons today."

"I know," Saveen said sheepishly. "I was just bored. Thought I'd see if you were getting pulled into the spirit world without me again."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Saveen shook her head, solemn. "Never."

"I promise, the next time I'm captured by demon thralls and taken into the domain of a demon god, I'll make sure they wait until you can catch up."

Saveen smiled brightly. "That's all I ask."

Thunders, but it was hard to not smile back at her. So hard in fact, Krayson no longer bothered trying to stop.

"Come along," he said and cocked his head for her to follow him towards the north side of the city. "Where's your Sapphire?"

"Pregnant."

"I said 'where' not 'what'."

"At her house being pregnant."

Krayson supposed that answered the question. It just begged a follow-up. "Hasn't Rippling Moon been pregnant the entire time you've had a bond?"

"Yes, but now she's really pregnant. She's five months now, and that's getting close to the end for goblins. The green ones are saying now it won't wait until Month of Wheat. Could be this month for all they know, and that's got them worried. They've never seen a half-human baby before."

The city around the temples was mostly finished. The streets were broad and wide enough for four carriages to come through at the same time. The cobblestones here had a golden cast to them, being made from sandstone, while the streets in the first districts to be built were gray. The change came when entrepreneurial Aleesh scouted out a site for a quarry in the Miracle nearby. Between that and being able to spellwrought smaller blocks into larger ones, it was no wonder the Nadians were upset about the price of cut stone dropping.

Most structures didn't go higher than two stories. A few inns and similar establishments exceeded that, but in general, New Sandharbor wasn't a tall city. That might change in the future as the rapidly growing population swelled, but as long as settlers kept setting out into the Miracle, it wouldn't be a pressing concern.

Saveen was practically hopping from foot to foot in excitement as they walked. "Did you know you can feel the baby kicking inside her? Isn't that bizarre? That doesn't happen with eggs, you know. Moon lets me feel whenever the rybka starts going bonkers in there."

She continued jabbering for most of the walk. Krayson listened with half an ear, responded whenever it was necessary, but he was mostly paying attention to the people they walked by.

There were three different sorts of Aleesh who resided in Shan Alee. The most numerous were the Aleesh of Chaya Domun. They were the most archetypical of the Aleesh race, possessing brown skin, exceptional height, defined facial features, and round eyes. Roughly thirty thousand of them remained in the city, the rest founding new villages in the Miracle to the west. There were many shifters in their population, approximately a tenth of them. Men and women with bat-like wings instead of arms were a common sight. As were talking canines with seven tails. Aside from harpies and kits, shifters were difficult to spot at a glance. There were just as many selkies, weres, and vampires among them. There were only about ten Aleesh dopplers and just three skindancers, including Mogga.

The least numerous were the Aleesh known as pilgrims. In the beginning, the name referred to the two hundred people brought to Enfri by Landon Marchand. The term had since been applied to all Aleesh who emigrated to Shan Alee from elsewhere in the Five Kingdoms. They were often of diverse heritage. Their skin could be darker or lighter depending on what regions they hailed from. Their eyes might have epicanthic folds, monolids, or lack either. Krayson even spotted one family with Irdish gray skin. However, the "green and gold"— as their identifying features were often called— were dominant genetic traits. Very few pilgrims lacked blonde hair or green eyes, and it was extremely rare to lack both.

Between the other two in number, but swiftly growing to outstrip them both put together, were the nationalized Aleesh. These were people who didn't possess a drop of blood originating from the old empire but nonetheless came to Shan Alee to find a new life. The overwhelming greater part of the merchant class was comprised of these immigrants and the empire depended on the goods they brought with them. They also comprised the majority of the armed forces, be that the armsmen of the resident noble houses, the Empress' Legion, or the Arcane Knights.

Krayson supposed he was part of this third group, because it was long past the time he could claim not to be an Aleesh citizen anymore. Enfri made sure of that when she handed him his citizenship papers and threatened to dose him with nettle broth if he argued.

Whichever they were, many only remained in New Sandharbor long enough to join in on a settler's charter or gather the supplies needed to claim a homestead in the Miracle. As the appointed overseer of the new frontier by the Highest King, the Dragon Empress was the only legal avenue towards westward expansion. A surprising decision from King Cathis, but there was enough on his plate that he likely had no other choice but to give the job to Enfri, and it was a necessary job if he didn't want seven dozen rogue states appearing in the west overnight. It also wasn't as if any other kingdom was both willing and able to do it.

Saveen had chattered her way through a half-dozen subjects before she finally asked Krayson a question she should have asked sooner. "Where is it you're going, anyway, master?"

"I'm on an errand for Her Majesty."

"To do what?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't want to come."

"Try me. I might surprise you."

Krayson nodded to the grand estate that sat at the northernmost end of New Sandharbor. It was among the most opulent of structures in the city, work of the nearly forty dragons and their knights who resided on the surrounding grounds.

"Oh," Saveen breathed. "No, I wouldn't want to. But I will if you have to. You and me have to stick together."

Krayson appreciated that. He would've appreciated it more if her presence would've included Rippling Moon's. The Knights of Alinwé didn't respect many Arcane Knights, but they respected Moon. After the walloping she gave that Amethyst, they'd be idiots not to.

"Come on, Saveen. It's been three months, but Enfri's finally going to talk to her aunt. I'm here to escort Elise to the palace."