Hours had passed, Raelendra could feel the Weave around her strengthening and growing, seeping into the tightly laced Weave of this place and drastically changing it. Her hands were rock solid once more. They remained steady as she stared at them, long delicate fingers with well manicured nails kept somewhat short. The pale palm was unmarred by callous, the slender fingers untainted by scar. The hands of a spellweaver, a magi, not those of a laborer or a warrior.

She made fists, her nails bitting into her palms but not hard enough to draw blood. What had been done was done already. There was no taking it back, no tying the Weave back into its inflexible pattern. She had freed this world, or cursed it. Either way, only by looking forward could she accomplish anything She heaved a sigh and rose to her feet. She was the Archmagus of Azmael and she had a responsibility to her people.

Outside of the tent was a bustle of activity . There were numerous troops moving through the area, many engaged in patrols or carting supplies and materials for the projects that would soon be necessary. She pointed at one of the servants, “Fetch me the magi, all of them.”

The servant bowed quickly and raced off. Raelendra walked toward the command tent, searching for the Chancellor as she moved through the central square, avoiding the Rift itself.

The guards at the door of the command tent stopped her, one going in to announce her presence. She tucked her hands into the sleeves of her elaborate robes and waited.The guard reappeared quickly and gestured her inside.

The command tent was much as other command tents that Raelendra had been in in her long career with the Empire, sparsely furnished with a table and chairs, a few hanging lanterns and a plethora of maps and notes. This command tent, however, had one unique feature. A throne and seated upon it, the emperor himself. Raelendra immediately prostrated herself, heedless of her robes and the dirty floor. She waited, forehead pressed between her hands against the ground, to be recognized.

“We have seen the weakness of the humans of this place.” The Emper’s voice was smooth, cultured, but not terribly deep. “Tell us of the region.” There was no expression in his voice, barely any sign of interest. A whole new world and the Emperor sounded bored.

“Your Excellence.” The Chancellor said as he rose from his own obeisance. He walked to the map table, careful to never turn his back upon the Emperor. The Chancellor’s voice, as opposed to the Emperor, was rich and deep, seemingly out of place rising up from his thin frame. “It appears that the Rift was created in a farm land. The soil here is quite rich and suitable for many endeavors. Our scouts report settlements to the west and the north east as well as a very small settlement directly south of our location.” He indicated a freshly drawn map on the table, quite detailed for so little time having passed. “There are few sources of wood and scattered, undefended homes, seem to be surrounded by them for the most part.”

He indicated a few symbols on the map and then the long straight roads. “Their rods are truly impressive, straight and thick, able to weather even the storms that were unleashed last evening. I would recommend that we do not destroy them outright. Our first order of business should be to secure a stronghold here around the Rift itself, we must ensure that it remains in our hands. After that…” He took a breath, his grey eyes flicking between Raelendra’s hunched form and that of the seated Emperor. “I would suggest that we lay claim to as much territory in the area as we can manage. The more we can control of this area, the more influence we will have when it comes to war with whatever forces these people choose to bring against us. For now, Your Excellence, I would suggest that the seat of power remain here near the rift until we find a suitable location.”

The Emperor lazily waved a hand as though clearing smoke from in front of his face. “See it done.”

“Yes, Your Excellence.” The Chancellor bowed again.

“We will speak with the Magus.”

“Yes, Your Excellence.”

“Remain, Chancellor, we will speak with you again after. The rest may go.”

“As you will it, Your Excellence.”

The others, a few pages and a runner, left without being told directly. The Emperor, and the Chancellor for that matter, had no patience for dawdling.

“Your will be done, Your Excellence.” Raelendra said, still face down in the dirt.

“Rise, rise.” Again that bored hand waving. “You will speak to us on the Weave, Magus.”

Raelendra caught herself as she slowly rose to her feet, stepping away from the Emperor so that she could see the map, she almost corrected him. She met his brilliant blue eyes for a moment and would swear that she read something within his gaze, but she tore her eyes away quickly. Meeting his eyes… it was not done. Almost worse than turning her back to him. She stifled a shudder.

“Your Excellence.” She bowed deeply in his direction once more, though she remained standing. “We have managed to free the Weave of this world from its confines. The spellweavers should be restored to their former capabilities. If I may suggest?”

He waved his hand, but it was the Chancellor who spoke. “Go on, Archmagus.”

At least he got her title right. “It would be a good use of our magi to assist in building the structures that will surround the Rift and the settlement here. While offensive Weaves would be good practice, the Weave itself here is different and perhaps something less volatile would be a valuable endeavor.”

She watched the Emperor from the corner of her eye as she looked at the map that was rolled out on the table. So very detailed already, the new domain of the Azmael Empire would be a fertile place. The Emperor’s blazing eyes never left Raelendra as he considered her suggestion. Finally, he waved a hand at the Chancellor again, his eyes finally leaving the Archmagus “See it done.” The Chancellor said, his words dismissive as he returned his attention to the map. “Have the guards fetch the Generals on your way out.”

“His will be done.” Raelendra bowed again.

“In all things.” The Chancellor answered, his tone distracted.

She left the tent, careful not to expose her back to the Emperor. It only took a few minutes for her to cross the empty square once more and reach the tent of the Magi. So few were left, only seven, including herself. They sat around a similar table to the one she had just left. “Good, you are all here.”

“Of course we are, you sent runners for us.” Varen’s tone was a bit sharp. “What is it?”

One blonde brow shot up as she met his pale eyes, he looked worn. More worn than usual anyway. “We have orders from His Excellence.”

The Acolyte, Baunin, groaned almost involuntarily. His green eyes widening and his pale features darkening in a deep blush. The others had schooled their features to careful neutrality.

“We are tasked with building the keep and settlement around the Rift that will be our first stronghold in this realm.”

“May it be the first of many.” Varen intoned and there was a murmur of agreement around the table.

Raelendra’s face remained carefully neutral, giving no hint away of the swirl of emotion that ran through her. She had been at court for far too long to let her uncertainty show plainly. She reached for the Weaves, her body relaxing as soon as she touched it, carefully weaving a spell. It always felt like Weaving the possibilities into existence took an eternity, but only a breath passed before the surface of the table changed into an exact replica of the map on the Emperor’s table. “This is the area that surrounds the Rift. There are settlements here, here and here, but the Chancellor does not yet deem them a threat. There are farmsteads in these locations,” she indicated the buildings and trees that now stood up from the wooden surface of the table. “I suggest we first surround the Rift itself, tall walls, a barrier weaved over the top. A walk and crenelations along the top to provide cover for archers and spellweavers overlooking the Rift Court.”

“That seems sensible,” Varen said as he watched the wall grow out of the wooden table. He reached for the Weave himself and he made several adjustments to the shape of her wall, angling the wall slightly outward from top to bottom on the riftward side and adding a single gate on the northern edge of the walled courtyard. She could see the portcullises forming on both sides of the gate as well as a pair of murder slits on either side. The wall thickened, growing hollow and providing several more vantage points toward the rift.

“Perhaps towers on the corner to provide bilistae?” Jeshimon asked as he studied the rising plans.

“Perhaps.” Varen mused, adding the flat topped towers. “Next the keep itself?”

“Mmm.” Raelendra only hummed thoughtfully as she started shaping the wooden tabletop. The other magi continued to offer suggestions until what felt like hours later, they sat back satisfied.

The Rift Court formed the heart of what had become a small city, surrounded by a thick walled keep with defenses on the interior wall as well as the exterior. Four large, flat towers marked each corner and a large, imposing gate faced north. The building wasn’t beautiful, but it would be a bastion of defense in the strange realm. Around the keep were straight, orderly streets, crowded by small defensible buildings. An outer wall, with frequent flat-topped towers, ringed the city. The city itself should fit the needs of most of the remaining elves of the Empire, at least temporarily.

“Let us get to it then.” Raelendra said, clapping her hand. She almost immediately raised on to stop them all as they rose to their feet. “Hollus,” She chose one of the less powerful magi, but a steady man nonetheless. “I would like you to scour the Empire for those capable of reaching the Weave. We need to recover our strength if we are to be of use to the Emperor.”

“His will be done.” Hollus answered as he nodded at her.

“In all things.” She barely felt herself respond, it was so ingrained in her by now. The group of magi dispersed, off to create something from the mere possibility that it may exist.