Ten gold pieces from old Valaria, a symbol of wealth immeasurable

Ten silver swords of the lyrdvar, a pledge of legacy unfathomable

Thus was the sacrifice the first Rhaevastians made

Throwing their history and fortunes away

Ten drakenlyrd landed on the crags,

Ten drakenlyrd cut themselves open, bleeding strength for ascension

And so was the first Compact made, betwixt beast and balsur.

- The beginning of The Song of the First, a Thrun-era Rhaevastian sonnet

“Really, now of all times?”

A request was made, and a woman replied disapprovingly, causing her to put down the item that she had been working on - a unfinished stave, the arcanum carvings only half done, the parts that would make up its head still unassembled across the table.

“Apologies, Grand Magister. I understand both you and the Outsider are busy, but the decision to issue this decree was only just made.”

“Right before Court is set to begin?”

“Indeed.”

“I see.” The Grand Magister Arcanus, Matriarch Madeline of the Watch-Library of Uiatach, looked over the decree one final time, before rolling it up. “I understand. I will inform the Outsider, and we shall be present at the Court later.”

“Then I shall take my leave, Magister”

The messenger retreated, his royal regalia disappearing behind the door. Meanwhile, Madeline sighed, putting away the half-finished stave, and laying a cloth across the unassembled parts. Reaching for the coat rack, she donned her ceremonial Uiatachian cloak and raiments, and left her chambers.

Walking down the carved stone corridors, and headed for the main hall of the Mallebrium, and opened the main doors to be greeting by an entranced crowd. Almost the entirety of her Household stood, sat or positioned themselves in the massive chamber, packing it to almost maximum. Curiassers, acolytes, libarians, they had all come out in force to watch a demonstration of sorts, creating a cacophony that filled the entire underground complex.

Gently, the Magister prodded her way through the crowd, reaching the center of the slightly impromptu gathering. Two men and one younger boy stood in the middle of all this, and one of them raised their hand to hush the crowd.. Beside him was his darker-skinned friend from Earth, acting as his assistant, trying to ignore the crowds, and lastly, one particular Diacon, hood pulled over his eyes as much as possible as he busied around with some sort of preparation with the contraption that Roland had brought.

"Varlac, could you help me attach that part?”

"Y-yes, Mate Outsider!"

If there was any indication of their first unfortunate first meeting, neither the Diacon or the Outsider showed it. Instead, Roland simply pointed to one part of the flimsy contraption that he had brought, and Varlac quietly helped twist it in while Roland held it in place. After they had successfully pieced it together, Roland nodded his thanks, and motioned for the Diacon to leave, before continuing his checks on it.

The very contraption being a strange lithe frame made out of several segmented thin pipes made from a material Madeline did not recognize, with an inverted bottle - one of those ‘plastic’ ones - that had a few thin pieces of material attached to its neck. It faced towards the ground, and from its cap a thin tube was connected to a pedal device that Roland’s friend was busy pressing with his foot.

Madeline paused, simply observing even as she stepped forward, quickly throwing a hood over her head to avoid interrupting their preparations with her presence. As they finished, most of the group stepped away from the contraption, leaving only Roland holding some sort of string. After Roland called for attention, the hubbub immediately began to die down, the chatter replaced by shared anticipation.

“Three, two…One…Launch!”

At the Outsider’s declaration, there was a pwhoosh, and Madeline watched as some slender object fired itself from the ground, spraying water in its wake. Those close enough quickly stepped back, some measure of chaos brewing as they jostled for space, but for most, they looked up with some awe as they watched the slender object soar towards the ceiling. Even the unflappable Magister's mouth made an small O as she watched the rudimentary flying contraption almost lazily sail through the air.

And yet, what goes up, must come down. The projectile eventually ran out of propellant, the last of it expelling out in a splatter of liquid, it rose high enough to hit the hall’s ceiling, causing it to tumbled and spin towards the crowd. The crowd separated to avoid its fall, although one intrepid watcher quickly ran and grabbed it, prompting a round of applause from his nearest compatriots.

“And yes, as you have seen, the rocket’s nature means that once it has run out of its reaction mass, it will stop propelling itself, but its reduced mass while maintaining its speed allows it to carry itself higher than before. Any questions?” Roland raised his voice over the din, trying to draw back the crowd’s attention

One particular man in the back of the crowd raised a hand, shouting a question in crude Strovian. “Outsider! In..in your world, what are these things used for?”

“Well, for one, these things are used as weapons on Earth. But just as importantly, we use these rockets to carry things to outer space - think of the…air, above the clouds, so far high that there is not even air to breathe.”

There was a bit of quiet, before an sudden eruption of hubbub.

“Really?”

“That’s a bit hard to believe…”

“Can these things really touch the heavens…?”

Seeing the commotion, Madeline could not help but suppress a laugh. Meanwhile, the Outsider’s companion walked over to him, whispering audibly - she caught the earthside language of English, but didn’t decipher them fast enough - before the both of them collapsed into nervous laughter.

Seeing enough, she stepped into the ring, carefully pulling off her hood. Almost immediately the hall became quiet, and everyone stood at attention to face the director of the Mallebrium.

“I see the demonstration is a success,” Madeline turned to Roland. “Was it, or should it have done something more??”

“Uhh…” Roland looked behind him, as if he was trying to eke an answer from the crowd. Meanwhile, a few people passed the ‘rocket’ back to his group, where it was collected by Varlac, who looked at the object with a sort of reverent respect. Not really finding the answer, Roland turned back to Madeline with a nervous smile. “I…it should have just fallen after exhausting its fuel…so I hope it is?”

A few titters from the crowd came with that comment. Making a smile, Madeline replied, underlying her words with the often unseen genuine marvel, “Then it is.” Turning to the rest of her Household, she declared. “Please return to your tasks, I have a matter to discuss with the Outsider here.”

At the order, the crowd descended into hubbub, disorderly seperating into groups as they dispersed away. After a few moments, only the Magister, the Outsider and the group helping the latter with the demonstration was left - with Roland’s earth-side friend looking at Madeline with equal parts caution and curiosity.

“What’s going on?” Roland asked first.

Wordlessly, the Magister Arcanum handed the royal decree to Roland. Seeing it, the Outsider made a frown, rolling down the scroll as he read it - until reached the middle of the scroll, whereupon his eyes widened.

“What the f…?” Roland cursed in his native language, prompting his friend to look over. “Well no Ishraaq, its nothing bad but…” He turned back to Madeline. “Uh, Magister, this isn’t a joke, right?”

“It’s a royal decree; I'm afraid her Highness isn't that fond of jokes."

“What…” The Outsider turned again to his friend, stammering out the details to him - Madeline catching a bit of the English used. Upon hearing it, Roland’s companion promptly burst into laughter, slapping him on the back.

“Congratulations on your ascension to Pueri, Outsider.” Another round of stunned silence greeted her words, followed by some gentle clapping from the Elzen and the Diacon. “Now, I’m afraid I have to rush you; the ceremony in the court will be very soon.”