We set up camp at a defensible site. During Mazarin’s watch she noted a disturbance in the ash. Her vigilance proved correct, for moments later we were attacked by iron wyrmling’s. The group demonstrated improving coordination. Enoch’s skills were particularly notable: efficient, decisive, and controlled. Our formation did not break, and the enemy was dispatched without serious casualty.
At dawn we continued onward, but movement above the ash line drew our attention. Metallic dragons, iron and steel were locked in violent contest. A steel dragon descended and assumed a humanoid form: a middle-aged man, hair of salt and pepper, dressed in Ashborne linens. Unarmed, though his form alone carried power beyond any weapon. He instructed us to follow, an order which required little deliberation.
He led us into the Dathar encampment. The Ashborne there regarded us with a mixture of caution and unease. They bore weapons of bone and ivory. A single child broke the stillness. Her face lit with sudden recognition, and she pointed with unrestrained delight at Charles Brand, calling him “Vorrukai.”
We were brought before their leader, Syrael, bearer of a steel covenant sword. Her reaction to Charles was striking: surprise, then joy. She embraced him, openly wept, then after further conversation withdrew, her demeanor shifting to coldness edged with hurt.
NOTE: The following was spoken in the Ashborne tongue, thus recorded secondhand through translation and later corroboration. Syrael identified Charles as her son by marriage, taken by the Empire and long presumed dead. Charles professed no memory of her, which pained her visibly. She urged him to conceal his identity, lest others remember and place false hope in his return.
Charles later explained to us his memory loss and his previous relation to Syrael, I informed him of his Class IV memory realignment. Something I previously noted during a magical examination. His past was deliberately erased, as is the Empire’s practice when individuals are deemed necessary to remake. Enoch named Charles as Escheneye, someone taken in fully by the Ashborne, and that the Empire had stripped this from him.
Mazarin interjected then, her words sharp and laced with feeling as she condemned what she called “dissident talk.” She reminded us that The Oracle had chosen us for a task, and that to diverge from it, even for personal reasons, was to invite failure. The severity of her words brought to mind Admiral Katharis, though where the Admiral’s harshness was measured and precise, Mazarin’s was raw and ungoverned. A different blade, but cutting all the same.
NOTE: It is widely recorded that Charles was presented with a weapon by an Ashborne gentleman, an amalgam of blade and rifle, cursed in its making. It was said to embody the grief and wrath of Samira, her blade fused to his rifle as their lives once had been. He was told she had gone north to join the Agati, and Syrael warned him never to show his face to her. Charles agreed.
Mazarin and I spoke in private. I learned that, like myself, her training began in childhood, though the purpose remains classified. I am curious to understand the methods she endured and how her instruction shaped her. There is a new recognition between us, the severance from the work of a lifetime leaves a hollow weight. Both of us regard our tenure as Ledgermen as a sentence to be endured. If released, we will return to our appointed callings. If not, we will at least ensure this block operates with precision and effectiveness worthy of notice, its accomplishments undeniable.
When Charles returned, he was ready to move on. His demeanor changed, his bearing tighter, words fewer. None of us pressed further. Departure was preferable.
People
- Syreal
Current Places
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