“Poverty is the parent of revolution and crime.”

- Aristotle

The day of the funeral dawned with a low cloud cover driven from the sea by constant winds. Indirect light filtered through the grey sky and seemed to leech the colors from buildings, roads, and people leaving behind a depressing lack of life.

The ceremony would be held in the cathedral of the guiding light, consecrated to the god of justice and leadership, Gesserach the one-eyed, the upright judge.

A procession wound through the streets. The first carriage was drawn by six black horses whose hooves struck the cobblestones with uncanny might causing sparks to fly, this and strange flickers of light coruscating on their glossy coat and heavy manes showed them to be some kind of fey-breed. The coffin was placed on the back wreathed with black roses, grown with nature magics and giving off a numbing fragrance even in this freezing weather.

The second carriage was a more humble affair of black lacquered wood. Carl Askander’s coffin was unornamented and covered with purple hyacinth flowers.

Following were the coaches of the royal children and the dowager queen. Accompanied were they by royal knights garbed in somber mourning colors.

Citizens stood at the side carrying lamps and candles with flickering flames. Symbolically lighting the way for their deceased ruler.

And as the procession reached the market ward from which they would soon reach the temple square, colloquially known as the prayer roost, there was a sudden commotion. Many people from the spectating masses suddenly ran forward and brandished bottles or small flasks. Guardsmen reacted quickly and tried to intercept the runners but mostly failed. Around the leading carriages shields of scintillating force snapped into being the energies made the stone beneath crack and the force pushed some of the people standing in the first ranks back into the crowds.

Screams rose and panic spread.

Then the first of the flasks hit the stones and the barriers and red liquid, sometimes steaming in the cold air spread over the stones.

Several among the bottle-throwing agitators shouted slogans, “Bloodsuckers! Your hands are not clean! Leave us and our children alone. Power to the people! Freedom!”

“For council and government not the delusions of a single family!”

“We demand representation!”

Several mages among the accompanying royal guards loosed spells at the protesters, webs and arcing lightning immobilized some of them, others countered with spells of their own before vanishing into the panicking masses.

Lieseleta half stood in her carriage leaning against the window and looked horrified. “What in the world do they think to accomplish with that!?”

Heloise clenched her fists and began to answer when Irene, Nica von Margrinar zu Themsfeld the mother of Lieseleta answered, “They are paid or manipulated fools that carry out your enemies' designs. Even if their foolishness stems from idealistic musings it's simply regurgitated drivel fed to them by the likes of the Cragscoasts or even the von Saltmarsh.” She was a beautiful woman and used magic to keep herself looking as if in her late twenties when she would be celebrating her fortieth birthday next year.

Frowning she pulled Lieseleta back onto her seat and snapped the curtain shut. “Don’t think about them. I will have the royal spymistress find the backers and then we snip their claws. Until then every iota of emotion invested in this farce is only playing into their hands.”

“But this discontent does not seem to be recent?” Lieseleta looked at her aunt and mother.

Heloise shook her head. “As much as I tend to disagree with your mother- she does have a point. This here is an attack aimed at you while you are still weak. It is not intended to do anyone anything good but to harm you. An attack is best answered in kind so I will have this looked into as soon as possible. Keep your calm. If you really must you can deplore the poor misguided souls when you hold the speech commemorating your father. That might make a good impression.”

The panic got more serious as some of the blood- for that was the liquid- splattered on the crowds as some bottles were thrown from windows surrounding the avenue. Shards of earthenware and glass erupted with showers of red.

The fay horses regarded the whole commotion silently, motes of fire flickered in black, fathomless eyes.

The reaction this time was less restrained and a bolt of crimson fire impacted a thrower leaning from the window illuminating him with a halo of flame as his hair burst into flame and his face charred. With a strangled scream he toppled over and the flaming carcass dropped into the citizenry- in their haste to get away some were trampled underneath.

“We have to do something!” Lieseleta turned and looked at the others helplessly.

Heloise frowned fiercely and tapped an amulet hidden beneath her dress and then exited the carriage and before she shut the door again turned and said, “Remain inside, whatever happens, this could well be an assassination attempt on top of all this.”

Then she launched several spells in quick succession bolts of brilliant light that dazzled and confused. Several healers forced their way toward the fallen.

The black roses, unnatural in their perfection framed the coffin- far away, not only in distance, from what was happening.

The situation was soon brought back under control but the assembled crowd had thinned considerably and without the intervention of the town-guard there would probably only be a few of the most ardent supporters of the crown left.

“What a headache.” Heloise re-entered the coach and sat down. “We will make the best of it.”

Reaching the cathedral, church knights of Gesserach stood in double rows to both sides while hymns to the god of justice sang out of the open portal. The normally brilliantly shining armor seemed subdued under the leaden skies.

Gigantic censers hanging from the ceiling wreathed the interior in slowly drifting layers of smoky incense. Flames symbolizing the purifying aspect of enforcing the law flared from big fire bowls. Shadows flickered giving movement to silent frescoes telling tales of greed and punishment.

The coffins were placed before the statue and the priest ascended behind the altar.

If she were asked what the sermon had been about she would not have been able to answer. Lieseleta stood in the small area set aside and separated for use by royalty and her eyes focused on the polished coffins holding her father and brother.

The remains would stay in the temple for one night and then be buried in the royal mausoleum in the morning.

When they exited the temple the cold, clean air- for once the manufactoria were still and the perpetual east wind blew the smoke and dust along the river- hit them like a sharp spike of ice, and the assembled people of Margrinar along with many nobles filled a good part of the temple square. An expectant hush fell over the assembly only broken by the whining of the wind.

Taking a few steps Lieseleta stood before the crowd and from behind heard one of the royal magicians cast the spell for sound transference.

“Citizens, fellow people of Margrinar. I stand before you in this dark hour mourning the death of my father and brother. Shortly after the tragedy that befell my eldest brother Thomas, I stand here again. Would that we could use those cold and snowy months to gather around the hearths warming our homes and think of the spring to come, but for some of us, for my father and brothers this spring will never arrive. Old enemies stir, and misguided souls try to disrupt even the most sacred of moments. The world seems bleak.” She gestured towards the low-hanging clouds. “But we are the descendants of Allisair whose people sailed the oceans of another world and even as our ancestors had to build anew we will rise above the hardship and adversity. With the help of the good gods, we will rebuild what is fallen and forge ahead towards a new spring.”

Scattered applause and cheers rang from the largely silent masses.

Nodding toward the side Heloise directed several magicians and priests to step forward and together they spoke a long ritual prayer assisted by the infusion of light magic. Raising her arm Heloise gestured and a gigantic beam of light pierced the cloud cover in the direction of the noonday sun forcing aside the clouds.

Rays of sunlight moved with the roiling clouds and strafed over the assembled people who were beginning to cheer more earnestly now.

Lieseleta stood for a few moments and then backed away. Somewhere in the crowd, several people began to sing the national anthem.

“I hope it was enough,” Lieseleta whispered toward Heloise under her breath. Irene looked at the newfound closeness between aunt and niece and frowned, a bit of jealousy flashed behind her eyes.

Soon, much too soon, the clouds cut off the sun again but the people were still singing as Lieseleta and her entourage left as they had come.

Wisteria Dorms

Alyssa, Alea, and Mireille stood before a large amount of luggage.

“Whose is that?” Mireille pointed at several chests, “And where were they before, not in this room- that is for sure.”

Alea’s cheeks were burning.

“Yours?” Alyssa grinned and nodded toward her diminutive friend.

“I have to be able to recharge and repair Cecily and Butler One.” She fidgeted.

“And you decided to take a workshop with you?” Mireille laughed.

“Only the most necessary tools and some supplies.” Alea defended herself.

Butler One turned to look at his mistress, “Everything assembled as ordered, with the storage available on the vehicles it is estimated that it will not fit both you and your companions and the luggage.”

Semiramis tried to open a bag at the side swiping her claws at a rope binding it together.

Cyrus walked over and hissed at her which she answered by meowing stridently.

Mireille jumped on the largest coffer and leaned back while letting her legs dangle down the sides. “This could be comfortable enough.” She declared, “It only needs a cushion!”

“If we had some spare mana-dust I could try enchant a spatial enlargement on some of the chests?” Alyssa mused. “I have been getting better at it recently. The math was holding me back- They never taught such things in Firswending.” A pang of guilt hit her as she realized how long it had been since she had thought of her father. She had – for fear of gaining a foe's attention – not even tried to get information regarding the situation back home.

“Perhaps Vanessa could help? What’s up with her anyway? Is she still injured? Iseret has been making herself scarce lately too.” Mireille kicked her legs while still lying on her back, rocking the coffer.

“Please don’t do that, you will fall.” Alea looked at the whole display uncomfortably.

“I think that Iseret has a lot on her plate regarding the coming elevation of the Reborn. She was only with us as a ruse trying to help Vanessa after all. When Orpen was- killed? Do we know if he is still around, fled, or deceased?” Alyssa began to answer and then got sidetracked.

“He should be dead.” Alea nodded firmly, “Iseret said something about that when she left me to care for Vanessa after the Exhibition.”

“If she is with our resident v…ahem. Person. Blood-challenged person? Anyway, if they are together she would tell us if anything was wrong.” Mireille stumbled over the 'v'-word. They had quietly decided to be more careful. Standing in the limelight several times had taught them a bit of caution.

“And what about Lorelle?” Alyssa asked.

“She will be with me of course.” The spider on Alea’s shoulder turned to look at the white-haired girl.

“So, do we try to fit more in less or leave something behind?” Mireille linked her hands and stretched them toward the ceiling palms facing outward.

“I would take this as a challenge. I have not had as much success with my spatial affinity as with the others.” Alyssa smiled. “As they say practice makes perfect.”

“Should I be elsewhere when you practice? Spatial magic and practice make for a scary combination.” Mireille stopped kicking her feet and sat up.

“Have the clothes arrived?” Alyssa changed the subject.

“No, but they should be here soon.” Alea nodded to herself, “Tomorrow at the latest. The field excursion is planned for next week, we still have nearly six days.”

“Why do you pack so early?” Mireille looked confused. “Would it not be better to do it the day before like normal people?”

“I had a hunch it would be bit much.” Alea shuffled her feet.

Laughter echoed from the windows floating over the snowed-in meadow before the dorm.