Date: 4th Month, 499th Year AOP

Location: 223 Windkiss Street, Third Borough, Azure Sky City.

Time: 4:45 PM

Titus watched as the leader of the foreign avian officers pushed back his white cowl. The sun-stitched white cloth fell back to reveal a shock of shoulder-length brilliant blue hair interspersed with long bright blue feathers. Long, sharply pointed ears framed a handsomely pale countenance with firm lines and dark-pupiled almond-shaped eyes with enormous irises in the same startlingly brilliant blue shade as his hair. A matching neatly-trimmed blue goatee and mustache twisted upwards into an ugly sneer as he continued to scan the store.

Finally, he let out a disgusted snort. "This is supposed to be the best bakery in Azure City?" His smooth, masculine voice dripped with scorn as the avian scoffed aloud and shook his head. Thick silver bands clasped about the ridges of the officer's ears drew Titus’s attention as they clinked together. Four short silvers per ear... so a captain, then. A fairly high rank this far from the prime Imperial cities.

The captain turned to grin at his companions. "The reports seem to have not accounted for the Terran smell curdling the cream" he winked as he chuckled at his own joke, and several of the others snickered along. Titus felt a flush creep up his neck at the blatant xenophobia, and his mouth opened before he could stop himself. "This IS the best bakery in Azure City!" he said heatedly, "And my mom's-"

A hand clapped over his mouth, cutting off his outburst as the captain's brilliant blue eyes narrowed dangerously at Titus. Ceanna pushed him behind her, speaking loudly as if nothing had happened. "Our special today is a lemon meringue-filled soft pastry" she called with her smile still fixed firmly in place and a slight quaver now present in her voice. "We have hot roast beef sandwiches on fresh rye, and members of the patrol receive a discount, which we would be delighted to extend to our visiting officials."

She gestured at the sign on the polished maple wood countertop with white letters painted in Caroline's elegant flowing script reading, Officer's Discount: One Sandwich per Officer for a Shilling, Two Pastries per Officer for a sixpenny each. No limit on paydays!

The blue-haired captain squinted as he read the sign, then glanced back at his companions who were in the process of removing their own sun gear. The other officers all had similar shoulder-length feathered hair the colors of which matched their eyes and presented in consistent shades of color.

An avian’s signature color, also known as their “marque”, was a unique signifier of their connection to and interaction with aether, with the marque’s color placement up or down the visible primary color spectrum being a near-direct signifier of their ability to manipulate and control aether. The royals, who were widely considered to have the greatest Aptitude, all had hair, eye, and feather colors of the deepest violet, and any one of their Apts were rumored to be able to take on any two of the Fifth Circle human council members in a magical duel without getting their wings seriously ruffled.

The few avians that lived in Azure Sky City had red or dark brown marques and were a sufficiently uncommon sight as to elicit whispers among the common folk in the boroughs when they came through. Titus had to work hard not to openly gawk at the six tall, lean-muscled avian officers, including one whose two short silver ear bands on each ear identified him as a Lieutenant, and whose bright gold hair, feathers, and irises contrasted handsomely with his dark skin.

His scrutinizing gaze returned to the captain, the man’s brilliant blue marque along with various gold-studded crests decorating the shoulders of his wings indicating he was a powerful Apt from one of the major houses, and likely the son of a minor royal or a high-ranking Marshal. He was obviously used to being obeyed and served without question. His companions shuffled as they huddled behind their leader, expressions of resigned distaste or boredom plastered across each of their faces.

Appearing to come to a decision, the captain looked down the length of his nose at the petite human and her short, skinny offspring, then sighed as though exercising great patience. "I am Captain Melrose Solguard, first son of Duke Abel Solguard and second in command of security for the Royal Guard of House Sol.” He sniffed. “I will grace your... humble... establishment by allowing you to serve us" he stated, with his air insinuating that he considered himself to be granting them a great honor. At this, the captain and his companions took off their white dusters, tossing them carelessly over several chairs.

Titus couldn't help but stare as their folded wings emerged from beneath the cloaks on the officers' backs, their colorful feathers gleaming in the light of the bright yellow aether lamps overhead. The wings were multi-jointed and extremely compact when folded but could span over eight feet to either side when fully unfurled. Their primary flight feathers matched the colors of the avians’ respective marques, but the rest of the wing feathers and down consisted of shades of brown, grey, and brilliant white. Titus couldn't help but grudgingly admit to himself that they were beautiful.

As were almost all things Avian.

Avian officers in service to the Royal Protectorate traditionally decorated their wings with tiny gold and silver studs in the shape of the respective crests of their training academy, family, and military unit. Tradition also dictated that avian military personnel display their campaign decorum in the form of colored tassels fixed to the tips of their wing joints. Each of the avians in the bakery wore at least one or two tassels, but the captain's wings had at least three tassels on each wing that were festooned with thick gold and silver clasps and tipped with gemstones. Titus wasn’t sure what they meant, but they clearly displayed that someone considered the captain’s military accomplishments to be impressive - even among his own kind.

The officers seated themselves casually at one of the larger tables, arranging the ornate silver-runed Arclight pistols and the long thin arcblades hanging from their belts more comfortably about them. Melrose beckoned to Titus's mother with one hand as though summoning a pet dog to his side. "Come now. My men are famished, and we have little time to go elsewhere before we are needed at her royal highness Queen Sol’s ceremony. Bring us nothing but your best at once. And spirits as well." Titus's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. The avian queen is visiting Azure City? What in sky's name could she want here?

Ceanna’s voice remained cheerful but took on a firm note as she replied to the officer's request. "We'll bring out our best hot roast beef, but I'm afraid we serve no drink other than milk, coffee, or tea.” Several officers’ expressions turned ugly, and he saw his mother’s cheeks flush slightly as she paused before adding, “As compensation, I beg you to accept a pastry each, on the house.

Titus felt his fingers curl into fists. Despite their hollow bones and slight frames, only the most capable humans could defeat the vastly superior speed and reflexes of an avian in any sort of honor duel, especially one with military training. Thus, wise humans would volunteer a peace offering to any winged citizen that even hinted they might be offended - even if the perceived offense was a refusal to provide something that one did not have to offer in the first place.

While it wasn't technically legal for members of the “sky-blessed race” to rob, abuse, or murder humans on a whim, most authorities would turn a blind eye to those that claimed "compensation" for "offenses", not willing to risk incurring the wrath of some relation or powerful associate they might have. It's legal extortion, that's what it is! He thought savagely. If father or the governor were here...

A deep rumble rose from the group of officers in a tone of complaint. "You must have somewhere to get a drink around here! Oi! Terran boy!" A tall avian with crimson red-feathered hair and a matching red horseshoe mustache pointed at Titus with a manicured fingernail. “I’ll give you a penny to go and fetch it for us.” He shooed at Titus as if dismissing him. “Go on now. I want good brandy - none of that swill you Terrans pass off as wine."

Titus swelled like an acid-blood bullfrog as he prepared to tell the winged prick what he could do with his brandy bottle, but his mother once again intervened. "I'm sorry, but he is assigned to a delivery for which he is already late." From behind her apron, Ceanna gestured urgently with one hand to Titus, her message clear - Get OUT of here, NOW! "Besides which" she continued coolly, "I have already informed you that this establishment does not serve alcohol. If you wish to imbibe, I encourage you to pay a visit to the Soaring Steer. It is less than a thousand paces down this very street."

This did not appear to placate the officers. The red-marqued avian scowled at Titus, who continued to stare defiantly back at him. Captain Melrose glanced down at Titus, and his face spread into a condescending smile that did not reach his eyes as he turned to address Ceanna again. "Come now, my good Terran, surely you jest! All members of the royal forces work hard to protect the good citizens of these cities! The least they can expect when they return is to be able to warm themselves with a good drink at the end of a long cold day in the freezing winds outside the dome.”

He stroked his bright blue goatee and tilted his head as if lecturing a small, stupid child. "You say you have no drink on hand, but I believe the solution is simple. If the place is as close as you say, the child can simply run down the street to fetch us our brandy, and then continue with the rest of his deliveries. They have waited this long already, so a little longer should make no difference." He turned to glace back at his companions who gave vigorous assents.

"No alcohol." All traces of cheer were gone from Ceanna's voice, her smile replaced with a dark glare. "Your sandwiches and your pastries will be on the house, but then you will leave and never come back." Titus had never heard his mother speak in such a manner, and especially not to the very few avians who had frequented their bakery before. Her demeanor was as cold and dead as a tomb on the Surface of the old world, but her eyes held the promise of deadly consequences.

It was, frankly, terrifying, and Titus couldn’t have been prouder of her.

The officers' chairs scraped as they stood to their feet, snarling various insults and threats with hands on the hilts of pistols or blades, but the blue-haired captain held up a hand for silence, faint whisps of white-blue Aether glowing on his fingertips. All color drained from Ceanna's face, and she closed her mouth with a click and her pupils shrank to pinpoints as she stared at Melrose’s casual display of Aptitude. He locked his gaze with hers, brilliant blue clashing with soft emerald, but Titus's mother lifted her chin and crossed her arms, refusing to back down.

The avian's eyes narrowed, then glowed brightly as he began to circulate aether in his body. "It seems that being so far away from the Blessed City has caused the Terrans here to forget their place." His tone was almost offhanded, as though commenting on the weather, but Titus could see his mother's muscles beginning to tremble under the pressure of the enormous aura of power the captain was emitting. A quick glance show that even the other officers had beads of sweat forming on their brows, and their own eyes began to glow in the various shades of their marques as they strengthened themselves against the aetheric assault.

A clatter of falling pans and utensils accompanied by strangled gasps echoed from the hallway to the kitchen behind them as the untrained senses of the Knackless cooks were overwhelmed. This captain, whoever he was, was definitely not wearing all those campaign tassels for show. Even Mercy hadn't elicited such a reaction from their mother when showing off her newly formed Aether core circle that had certified her as a Master Apt!

Ceanna, however, had somehow managed to maintain her composure, albeit with obvious difficulty. "Leave. Now." She said, her words clipped as she fought to speak under the pressure.

The captain raised an impressed eyebrow, and Titus's chest swelled with pride as the man studied her anew. "Not many are able to remain conscious from my manifested Aspect, much less remain so defiant!" he stated. Indeed, Titus could see that the other officers were now looking distinctly uncomfortable, and two of the lower rank red-marqued avians were visibly sweating.

“What are you?” the captain continued as he stepped through the gap in the counter, his gaze fixed on Ceanna, “I know you’re not one of the Spurned, or you would be unaffected by my aura. Do you have any of the blessed blood in you?” His lean muscular frame towered over the much smaller woman. “Are you perhaps trained in the Aptitudes, or is it simply that your grandmother was fortunate enough to catch the eye of one of my people?"

His eyes traveled up and down the curves of her figure in a way that made Titus's skin crawl and his knuckles whiten at his side. "Yes..." the man drew out the word slowly, as he nodded to himself appreciatively, "I can see how that might have been the case..." She continued to stare coldly at the captain, her clenched jaw and quivering shoulders the only signs she felt anything at all. "Get. Out." She bit out through gritted teeth.

The blow came so fast that Titus never even saw it happen. Ceanna slammed into the wall hard enough to smash through several shelves before collapsing to the floor in a heap atop the broken wood and crushed pastries. Titus gaped in shock as Melrose stood over her huddled form, reaching down to yank her upright by her thick dark braids. She winced in pain as the captain lowered his face to hers with a look of strained boredom. “Now see here you-“

Ceanna’s blindly grasping fingers closed about the handle of a fallen rolling pin and she lashed out, striking the surprised captain squarely in the face. A spurt of dark red blood erupted as the smooth round wood crushed the man's nose. He cried out and lurched backwards, releasing her from his grip to grasp his broken face. Ceanna stood shakily to her feet holding the rolling pin like a sword as several faces belonging to the staff appeared from behind the curtain leading to the kitchen. Titus recognized one of the cooks, Amelia, whose round, sweat covered face was taut with fear.

"What in skies above is going on?" the woman asked breathlessly, but Ceanna dismissed her with a flick of her wrist. "Get back!" she snapped, her own breathing heavy as she squared off against the captain who was holding his bleeding nose and wearing an expression of incredulous outrage. The faces of the staff disappeared back behind the curtain as Ceanna straightened and turned her gaze on the remaining intruders. "Now all of you get-"

There was a loud crack of released power, and Ceanna stiffened as she was struck by the stun spell. Her muscles briefly locked into place before she tumbled bonelessly to the ground with her limbs twitching uncontrollably. "NO!" Titus screamed. He snatched the dropped rolling pin from the floor and leapt towards the crimson-haired officer with the deep voice who still held his hand up, palm out, towards his mother’s still form. The man's bright red eyes widened in surprise, but he dodged Titus's blow easily, his superior avian reflexes making him seem to simply disappear.

An open palm struck Titus behind the ear. Stars exploded behind his eyes as he spun in place and tumbled to the ground, just barely managing to maintain a tenuous grip on his improvised weapon. A roar of laughter from the officers accompanied his first dizzied attempt to stand, and a red curtain began to descend over his vision as he finally struggled unsteadily to his feet. He had never been good at fighting, never been good at physical anything for that matter.

“Come fight me like a man!” he screamed, “Leave my mom alone!” He could see the officer again, his round crimson beard and sleek feathered locks still immaculately in place, his red eyes dancing with mirth, and very obviously enjoying tantalizing the impotent young human.

“Come on!” Titus screamed again, raising the rolling pin. “If I were Apt I’d blast you all into next week! Cowards!” One of the other officers, the gold-marqued avian lieutenant, spoke up. “Come now, Boreas. That’s enough. The Terran will learn his place, and we obviously aren’t going to get anything decent to eat here. Let him stumble about and let’s go.”

The red-eyed Boreas grinned, still watching Titus’s continued attempts to remain upright with amusement. “Sod off, Klaus. All Terrans, especially the children, need to know their place.” He raised his palm towards Titus, sparks of power flickering as another stunning spell formed before his fingertips. At the same time, Titus gathered shaky legs beneath himself and charged forward, his weapon drawn back for a strike.

He would only get one shot at this.

He leapt upwards, swinging the rolling pin at the man’s head as hard as he could. A loud crack sounded as a white-hot spark of Aether leapt from the man’s hand to strike Titus in the chest and… do absolutely nothing. Titus heard the gold-haired officer - Klaus, apparently - yell “Spurned!” just as the heavy implement impacted Boreas’s right temple, sending the crimson-marqued avian to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Titus whirled to face the other officers, but before he could regain his bearings, he was sent flying across the room by a blow to his right ribcage. He crashed into a table, the one-two impact knocking the breath from his lungs, and he felt something pop in his side. As he lay dazed face down on the cool stone floor gasping for breath, a booted foot pressed into the back of his neck, and he dimly heard Captain Melrose speaking again.

“… an outright assault on an officer. Malak, Jarl, lock them both up!” The man’s voice had a newly distinctive nasal quality that brought Titus a small degree of grim satisfaction. Way to sock ‘im one, mom! The captain continued snapping orders. “Klaus! See to Boreas. Hector, if either of them moves a muscle, shoot them!” The men sounded their assent, and the boot lifted from his neck before pressing down into his back.

His hands were seized and twisted behind him, and he felt the cold metal of steel manacles snap into place before being jerked bodily into the air by his arms. He gasped as his shoulders wrenched painfully. Across the room, he saw his mother’s unconscious form still huddled on the floor, a pair of steel silver-runed manacles already in place on her wrists. The blue-haired captain now held his nose in a white-laced handkerchief, scarlet blood staining his blue mustache and goatee a dark black as it dripped slowly onto the floor.

“Take them back to the cells on the Indomitable and lock them up!” he seethed. “I don’t trust that the guardhouse in this city isn’t bought off completely by these Terrans and their filthy Spurned offspring.” Titus struggled in the grip of the avian who held him. "You won't get away with this! My dad and Governor Bellweather will come to get us! You just wait and see!"

Captain Melrose rolled his eyes and made a silencing gesture with his free hand. A fist crashed into Titus's temple and the world went black.