For the second time in an alarmingly short span (that is to say, in her entire life), Livia awoke tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. Krey, Emilie, and Pippy were also there with her, restrained in the same fashion. Unlike before, they all awoke at around the same time, and they all remembered exactly how they’d gotten here. They’d been attacked, and brought to… wherever they were now. Livia tried to assess the room, but the ambient light was so faint that she could only see what was moving in the oily dark— that only being her companions for now. A light slowly bloomed in front of them. Mercifully, it didn’t pop into existence all at once, giving their eyes time to adjust comfortably. It did little to clue them on on the room’s details, but it did reveal a person-shape standing before them. Then they realised the light was coming from that person-shape, and it was becoming more visible. The shape’s details emerged, and all at one, the four realised who they were looking at. It’s her… it’s the Aevischild!

As if she’d read Livia’s thoughts, Tecal locked eyes with her. “Welcome to the Iltzin Hanran.” Her face remained neutral as she spoke, not giving away a single hint of her emotional state. Her posture was equally so, a deliberate display of psychological opacity.

Krey recognised this as the unknown visage the draken were all taught to use around those they didn’t completely trust; which was, to say, practically everyone. Not all modern draken adhered to these teachings as religiously as their ancestors did - like Mamet the tinkerer - but Tecal was certainly putting that training to good use. At least they had the decency to give her that much before… before whatever it was they ended up doing to her, Krey thought.

Tecal noticed Krey’s scrutinising eyes, and looked at him next. “I’m sure you’re curious as to why I’ve had you brought to me.”

Krey leaned back now. “I’m more curious as to why you had to do it in such an unpleasant way.”

“Kindness and courtesy are not weaknesses to be displayed within the borders of Natra, human. I thought a worldly individual such as a Knight Berodyl like yourself would understand this.”

“Hmm… I suppose I do.”

“Then,” Livia said, “that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve brought us here to… I don’t know, interrogate us or whatever.”

“Your first assumption was hostility,” Tecal noted like a scientist watching their predictions come true. “Do you see now why I had you restrained for the beginning of this meeting?”

“Please,” Emilie dared to plead, “just tell us why we’re here.”

With zero awareness or consideration for the tension the others were experiencing, Pippy began hopping her chair forward, closer to Tecal. Tecal didn’t react to this in any way other than giving her her attention, ever stalwart in her unknown visage. Pippy leaned forward, her eyes tracing up and down the aevischild’s body. “Uh huh… yep! They do look bigger up close!”

“What looks bigger up close, human?” Tecal asked with just a hint of tension in her jaw.

“Your hands and feet! Or, should I say, your paws and claws!”

For a time, Tecal didn’t reply, just staring at Pippy. Eventually, she looked down at her own hand, and then past it down to her naked feet; they were indeed the monstrous appendages of her draconic forebears. She had no idea why this fascinated the puny human girl so much, but she let it pass over her like a cloud in the sky. “You seem uncharacteristically stupid for a woman of your reputation, Battlecaster.” She leapt into an aerial display of acrobatics, and as she passed the apex of her arc over Pippy’s head, there was a flash of pale reflection and the sound of a single cut. When Tecal landed behind Pippy, so perfect that it was as if she’d never left the ground, the rope binding the Battlecaster Extraordinaire going limp and drooping to the floor around the chair. “I believe we understand each other enough to be rid of these unpleasant necessities.”

The other three exchanged looks, and all nodded to each other. Livia spoke for them. “Alright, let us off these chairs, and we’ll hear you out.”

Tecal nodded in agreement, cutting each of them free in turn with one of her sharp, pearlescent claws. “I’ll not waste either of our time; you are going to help me.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?” Livia crossed her arms.

“Because, if you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to kill you.” Tecal waited for a reply, but got none. She continued. “I have been working to secure the support of the people of Narkato for a time now. The Laughing Gales have made this task… more difficult than I anticipated. If my hanran is to succeed, I will need the pledgings of all the territories of Natra, and possibly beyond. Narkato is where I have begun… and where my hanran seems to also be ending, which I cannot allow to happen. In summation, I need the Laughing Gales gone, and I need them to break under my foot, not anyone else’s.” She looked at Pippy again. “So, as much as I appreciate you systematically murdering my competitors, I cannot have some independent outlander accomplish this goal before me.”

“So…” Pippy hummed with a finger on her chin. “You want me to do it in your name instead?”

“Not quite. Your days of picking peons off from the shadows are over. I’m planning on totally destroying the Laughing Gales in a single assault, one big push to either absorb them into my hanran, or show them what happens to those who would appose my hanran.” For the first time, Tecal’s unknown visage began to show cracks, her voice gaining volume. “I will not be stopped, and the world must know this to be an absolute truth. Natra will either be mine by its own volition, or by force. It’s for their own good, after all.”

“I am a student of history,” Emilie began. “I have read the stories of times past for all the lands of Berodyl. Natra, has never had a single ruling body of any kind; that has been the gods’ will for it since the time of creation. All who have tried to unite Natra under a single banner have all suffered the same curse; they have all died in the attempt, never succeeding. The people of Natra themselves know this history better than anyone; what makes you think you can convince them that you’re the one to finally do it? Or, even, that it is for their own good?”

“I will give them no other choice,” Tecal decreed.

“You need not crush all of Natra beneath your heel,” Krey interjected. “True, some places - like Narkato - are dens of wretches, but there are also settlements in Natra that have done what many thought impossible, turned themselves into beacons of freedom and independence without the criminal underworld undermining them. These places would not need to be conquered; they could be handled with an open palm rather than a closed fist. Would you do this?”

Tecal contemplated for a moment… and then nodded. “I would. If these settlements would come willingly, peacefully, then I would not give them unnecessary reason to fear and despise me; sewing such seeds would only be to my detriment in the end. I am no tyrant, Sir Knight, nor am I a warmonger; I am simply seeking the strength I need to correct the failings of my homeland.”

“Then,” Krey declared, “I would not appose supporting you. I think a more united Natra would be a safer one, and as a Knight Berodyl, I must do what is best for the people of this world.”

Livia pulled Krey aside for a moment, leaving the others to continue deliberations. The outlander and the knight kept their voices down to keep their exchange private. “I don’t understand you,” Livia berated. “You preached to me that we shouldn’t just trust people we’ve just met, yet you’re willing fight for this scary dragon woman who had us abducted off the street?!”

Krey sighed. “You must understand how these two cases differ. I’ve been around, Livia— I know this world. I know the people in it, and I know how to read the signs. I have good reason to currently doubt Pippy’s true allegiance, and I have good reason to trust the words of this aevischild. As a man who took an oath to safeguard those who walk this world, I am asking you to trust me.”

Livia dropped her gaze to the floor. Despite the flaring of tempers that just would not die at the moment, Livia had to concede that she could think of no time where Krey had actively lead her astray. Besides, she thought to herself, she already made herself pretty clear; if we refuse, we die. She looked back up at Krey. “Alright… okay. Let’s do this shit. Ugh… Phyrn, give my strength.”

When Livia and Krey returned to the others, Tecal laid out the bottom line of her proposition. “You fight as my soldiers to secure my hold on Narkato, and I let you leave with some extra spoils in your bags to help on your travels. Do you accept?”

“We accept,” Livia confirmed.

“Good. I see no point in delaying our plans, so we shall storm the Laughing Gales base of operations tomorrow just before noon.”

Emilie raised her head at that. “So soon? Shouldn’t we prepare?”

“We know where they’re holed up; that's all the preparation we can afford. The longer we spend setting things up, the more likely it is that they’ll realise we’re up to something. Better to rush them now while they believe they have the upper hand.” Tecal got close enough to Emilie to almost be standing on her toes, and spoke in what might’ve been an attempt at a softer tone, but an attempt that didn’t quite succeed. “You will be fighting alongside my subordinates as well, don’t worry. I’m not proposing you be so woefully outnumbered. I, too, will be there, spearheading the charge.” She reached behind herself, and a series of mechanical clicks and hisses signalled the opening of the case on her back from it she drew a sword that almost didn’t look real, like it was some kind of vivid hallucination. When she swung it downward, though, the wave of force that passed through everyone affirmed its existence. It had a flared tip, a crossguard like a pair of wings, and a pommel decorated with feathers. The pommel, feathers, hilt, and crossguard were a bright red, which gradually faded to white up the blade. Despite being a monolithic greatsword, Tecal wielded it as if it weighed nothing. Its presence raised the ambient light level of the room, and the others could feel a faint breeze emanating from it. “With any luck, Quetzalcoatl-Egi here will be the last thing those gormless fools ever see.”