The War Chronicles of a Little Demon (Youjo Senki alt)

ScarletFox · May 7, 2024

Rymu said:
Unless there's some culture stuff about who carries the broodlings, and even with Tanya's changes I'm not so sure she'd be comfortable bearing kids, 3 is the number to get a brat between every combination of parents assuming the Vs breed. Which I'm not completely sure of happening as I'm not quite sure if the two are into each other are are just good with sharing Tanya. Violetblood is probably the one most pushed to push out a broodling for a variety of reasons and possibly would be the priority to get preggers but Visha probably has wanted Tanya's babies for at least a lifetime and I don't think anyone will care if both Vs are preggers at the same time.

I agree actually, I'm not sure as to pairing both the Vs together. We'll let Sunny figure it out much later ^_^.

Though I do feel like Tauria is loath to have others do things that she isn't really willing to do herself. So if she's getting both her V's to carry kids, I think she'd feel a bit obligated to carry one herself.
And if she's doing that for one of her Vs...well, then she'd do it for her 2nd.

Rymu · May 7, 2024

ScarletFox said:
I agree actually, I'm not sure as to pairing both the Vs together. We'll let Sunny figure it out much later ^_^.

Though I do feel like Tauria is loath to have others do things that she isn't really willing to do herself. So if she's getting both her V's to carry kids, I think she'd feel a bit obligated to carry one herself.
And if she's doing that for one of her Vs...well, then she'd do it for her 2nd.

A key facet of Tanya's character is that some of her highest priorities are her personal comfort and freedom, and a pregnancy is one of the biggest ways to limit both. So unless there's some culture to push the idea, I'm pretty sure she's unlikely to do it. Also of the lot she's the most likely to remain in the military after her required service.

ScarletFox · May 7, 2024

Rymu said:
A key facet of Tanya's character is that some of her highest priorities are her personal comfort and freedom, and a pregnancy is one of the biggest ways to limit both. So unless there's some culture to push the idea, I'm pretty sure she's unlikely to do it. Also of the lot she's the most likely to remain in the military after her required service.

The other large facet is following social cues and obligations, much to her own detriment. Now is she willing to give up some of her personal comfort to fulfill having broodlings? Maybe.
You are right that just having her V's have children would be meeting obligations, but if she gets that its expected in someway...

Rymu · May 7, 2024

ScarletFox said:
The other large facet is following social cues and obligations, much to her own detriment. Now is she willing to give up some of her personal comfort to fulfill having broodlings? Maybe.
You are right that just having her V's have children would be meeting obligations, but if she gets that its expected in someway...

She does have her limits when it comes to social cues, and that requires them to exist in the first place or not have consequences that are worth the freedom and comfort not abiding by them grants.

The expectations do also need to be pretty rigid and not come with counterparts. It could very well be understandable for one girl to not be comfortable bearing kids. However we readers just don't know as far as I can tell. Though I suspect it's the case.

Sunshine Temple · May 8, 2024

Oh wow! Lotta comments. And on the day the forum went through an update.

Rymu said:
Holiday shopping, therapy, and military socialization. What a variety in this chapter.

The Vs are going to get very bred methinks once the triad are in the place for that between the schenagains in the first part of the chapter revealing that Tanya finds the broodlings adorable and the middle part going over some of Violetblood's background.

Yah, I wanted some variety to show them in the "post mission" phase.
For the second part, I will note that they don't have maternity leave.

ScarletFox said:
Well, she finds the fluffy fox kits adorable

She finds her nieces to be exasperating. As was shown when she had to take care of the...7...I think...of them at her home that one time. She also refers to broodlings ever so lovingly as terrors.

Broodlings between the three. Suppose they'll have 6 total, switching off parentage between them?
Should workshop some names ^_^.

Heh, could be that Tauria, at some level, knows she won't be responsible for raising fox kits. And yeah, broodlings are... challenging.

Rymu said:
Unless there's some culture stuff about who carries the broodlings, and even with Tanya's changes I'm not so sure she'd be comfortable bearing kids, 3 is the number to get a brat between every combination of parents assuming the Vs breed. Which I'm not completely sure of happening as I'm not quite sure if the two are into each other are are just good with sharing Tanya. Violetblood is probably the one most pushed to push out a broodling for a variety of reasons and possibly would be the priority to get preggers but Visha probably has wanted Tanya's babies for at least a lifetime and I don't think anyone will care if both Vs are preggers at the same time.

They do have plenty of time. And another factor is how much pressure Tauria's moms have on her, especially when she's in her 30's

Simonbob said:
"I might lose my girls!"

"Ah, could you not blow up my office?"

Tauria "I'm totally not that emotional and passionate!"

RogueInquisitor said:
Banging about? Sounds like she should get a decent scabbard with 2 or 3 points of attachment. A properly worn sword should not be bruising your hips/thighs.

I think you only need one of these.

Well.... that might be her complaining, or maybe she should get her kit fixed up
Speaking of fixing, you're right. I'll correct that.

ScarletFox said:
I agree actually, I'm not sure as to pairing both the Vs together. We'll let Sunny figure it out much later ^_^.

Though I do feel like Tauria is loath to have others do things that she isn't really willing to do herself. So if she's getting both her V's to carry kids, I think she'd feel a bit obligated to carry one herself.
And if she's doing that for one of her Vs...well, then she'd do it for her 2nd.

And then it's a question of how she goes after that. But that's all pretty far in the future.

Rymu said:
A key facet of Tanya's character is that some of her highest priorities are her personal comfort and freedom, and a pregnancy is one of the biggest ways to limit both. So unless there's some culture to push the idea, I'm pretty sure she's unlikely to do it. Also of the lot she's the most likely to remain in the military after her required service.

There is a culture push. As for comfort. Maternity leave (and reduced duty) is a thing in the Fleet and Legions. So in theory Tauria could use that to get a rear echelon position.

But I doubt even she's that cynical

ScarletFox said:
The other large facet is following social cues and obligations, much to her own detriment. Now is she willing to give up some of her personal comfort to fulfill having broodlings? Maybe.
You are right that just having her V's have children would be meeting obligations, but if she gets that its expected in someway...

And if the Duchess gives her a quiet word...

Rymu said:
She does have her limits when it comes to social cues, and that requires them to exist in the first place or not have consequences that are worth the freedom and comfort not abiding by them grants.

The expectations do also need to be pretty rigid and not come with counterparts. It could very well be understandable for one girl to not be comfortable bearing kids. However we readers just don't know as far as I can tell. Though I suspect it's the case.

Good news is that it's all pretty theoretical at this point. And there's plenty of story to go before this is even an issue that they'd really consider.

Tauria herself can push back on having broodlings for a fair bit. Like until her first military term is over.

Thomas Bennett · May 8, 2024

Thanks for the chapter.

Rymu · May 8, 2024

Sunshine Temple said:
For the second part, I will note that they don't have maternity leave.

Sunshine Temple said:
As for comfort. Maternity leave (and reduced duty) is a thing in the Fleet and Legions.

This feel contradictory.

Sunshine Temple said:
But I doubt even she's that cynical

I would say she isn't. Also I'd say that she likes her career.

Sunshine Temple said:
Tauria herself can push back on having broodlings for a fair bit. Like until her first military term is over.

Can and would are different things and she's certainly got options. Pushing back on bearing any broodlings, at all if she can help it but at least until she works through if it's for her or not with more certainty, is what I'd expect out of her. Siring broodlings on the other hand, I think she would only avoid until everything is super official with her Vs and their first terms are up. Preferably with Tanya having a transfer that'll let her be in her broodlings' lives.

Sunshine Temple · May 9, 2024

Thomas Bennett said:
Thanks for the chapter.

You're welcome! Glad you enjoyed it!

Rymu said:
This feel contradictory.

Ah, I mean the leave they got in the current chapter isn't Maternity Leave. IE no one in the Wing can get pregnant.

I would say she isn't. Also I'd say that she likes her career.

Despite her protests she does like it.

Can and would are different things and she's certainly got options. Pushing back on bearing any broodlings, at all if she can help it but at least until she works through if it's for her or not with more certainty, is what I'd expect out of her. Siring broodlings on the other hand, I think she would only avoid until everything is super official with her Vs and their first terms are up. Preferably with Tanya having a transfer that'll let her be in her broodlings' lives.

True, Regardless of the exact details, I can see Tauria planning to have it after her first term, and ideally after being transferred to a reserve or desk position.

Sunshine Temple · Jun 9, 2024

Chapter 33 has over 9k words written and I'm on the last scene. The next main arc to Book 2 is shaping up well as it'll show Tauria back on the homefront for a bit.

But now, the art.

First from, LauraCaroline a rendition of DarkStar in a formal gown that was previously seen here

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From Lexi we've got Tauria being tempted by Invidia of CSR versus Mira of the Palace Librarians. She is spoiled of choice.

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Next PlayerErorr404 helps fill out the cast. by showing Baroness SkySpear of VioletBlood's Noble Flight in some fancy gown that she finds a bit much. This also means that there is now art of everyone in Flight 2: VoiletBlood, Lavish, Pulivia, and SkySpear

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DP brings a very fun piece of Head Maid Reinhild SunShower doing a bit of business work to help balance the Countess's books. Or at least her petty cash.

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From ScittyKitty we have an adorable a sequel to this piece of Tauria and her nieces.
Now Tauria is teaching her niece Talia how to train her new Zephyr

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Also from Lexi we have Tauria and her Vs enjoying a night on the town.

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And finally also from DP we have two more pilots in the squadron Lady Adriana Melisande and Lucia Hood. Melisande is trying to cheer up Lulu, who for her part, is more focused on pouting.

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And with a piece showing Octavia that I have in the queue, there are just two pilots of Squadron 3 left to get art of: Charity of Flight 3 and the late IronTalon.

Sunshine Temple · Jul 16, 2024

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 33: Recreational Transit

"Transit synchronization delays to Baria have been resolved. Incoming transit will arrive shortly on platform three," a prim voice announced over the concourse speakers in a cool, but even, Lentian accent.

As the words echoed in the cavernous room, I shifted in the uncomfortable waiting chair. Glancing at my mostly untouched tepid coffee, I fiddled with the unread book in my lap. To my right, VioletBlood sipped at a small glass of sherry, while on my left, Visha was busily at work disposing of an entire basket of salted, cheese-covered new potatoes. As always, it was worrying just how quickly the young tubers vanished into the maw she had in place of a stomach. I could blame it on her demonhood, but I knew her as a human.

"Boarding for the thirteen hundred hours, sixteen minutes transit to New Lentia will commence on platform five. The twelve hundred hours,fifty minutes transit from Urik is on schedule and will be arriving shortly," declared the announcer.

There was a distant thud and the rising stench of burnt ozone.

From our seats, we had a rather nice view of the platforms radiating out below us. A single platform, number five, was occupied by a giant bulbous railcar, all rounded edges and truncated corners. Sitting on wide-gauge tracks, the sides of the car had been retracted, the glistening skin peeled away to reveal the innards and compartments below. Stevedores and Load Mistresses scuttled around the flayed beast like a century of ants, carefully inspecting every particular of the car to ensure that the rather worn down first generation Lavin battle tank contained in its bowels was lashed down with appropriate care.

"Can't we just get this over with?" VioletBlood complained, emptying her wineglass with a wince. "It feels like it'd be faster to take an airship back home."

"We'd spend even more time waiting to get onboard, and then longer waiting in the air," I reminded her before returning to my watch over platform five.

Further aft, lifts were hoisting up the last bits of cargo and fitting them between the standardized Ivywood crates which, like the tank, had been loaded aboard hours before. Also climbing aboard the specialized railcar were a line of people, all queued up before the single ramp leading into the passenger compartment ahead.

The tracks went out from the ramp and vanished under a set of armored doors; one of about a dozen that were set in the semi-circular fall wall of the concourse complex.

"I wish I could just fly back myself," VioletBlood grumbled.

"You're too young," Visha absently noted around a mouthful of potato before brightening. "Oh Tauria, you have to try this! The cheese is delicious!"

I eyed the glossy too-yellow substance poured over the potatoes while VioletBlood pouted. Something in that uniformly sunny smear spoke of old chemicals and strange alchemies forgotten by all save the warlocks toiling endlessly in the bowels of some infernal pasteurizer.

"I don't have to be an Elder to know how to teleport," Violet sniffed, trying to regain her dignity.

"But it is far, far rarer," I said distractedly, still trying to figure out how to politely decline the potato and cheese that Visha had offered. The spoonful did smell disquietingly appetizing in a "you will regret this in twenty minutes" fashion, only further evidence of the uncanny arts concealed in its industrial ancestry. Not a brilliant idea, given how Mother had cautioned me about eating before using a Gateway. If a Duchess could get teleportation sickness, surely the rest of us were even more at risk.

"And Ma'ams, young adults who can both pilot an RP and teleport would be quite enticing," Reinhild SunShower said. The kitsune looked all demure and polite; at least she, and the other elements of my staff, were wearing their reserve Auxilia uniforms.

It was an eminently practical look and one which I heartily approved. Not only did their military IDs make it easier for them to get onto the concourse, but their uniforms lent their procession something of a professional air. As if they were in the midst of executing some hideously complex mission requiring careful attendance and repeated checks. As the clear center of this operation, I was saved from the embarrassment of being publically swarmed by a pack of servants in full maid regalia.

Though I will say that the kabob-filled pitas the maids had snapped up were sinfully enticing, with a scent as greasy as was mouth-watering.

"Not to mention snapped up for all sorts of skullduggery and shenanigans, Ma'am," Gibbs dryly added, the last word dangling off her sentence like an afterthought. She and a couple dozen of my Squadron's Ritualista were also waiting in the rows around us.

I shivered at the thought. I had seen the "shenanigans'' that CSR could get up to with normal Legionary Fliers and Fleet Pilots; my traitorous mind was happy to supply me with multiple examples of the kinds of operations they might be running that could make use of Ritual Plate pilots capable of teleporting dozens of miles in the blink of an eye. "Be careful what you wish for, LoveBlood."

Still ignoring both the culinary temptations and "temptations", I ran the numbers, trying to estimate the bounds of the horrifying idea Gibbs had so deftly placed in my head. If teleportation is, for the sake of argument, a one in a thousand talent among RP pilots then... that would amount to about a Squadron's worth of Legionary Fliers and a reinforced Demi-Wing of Fleet Pilots.

There were rumors of such rarified units, of dread Squadrons held in careful reserve by both of the services. That said, I might have had more truck with such barracks room gossip if the whispers spoke of a single composite RP Wing, which seemed far more plausible so far as secret trump card formations went. That sort of concentration would allow for the deployment of a critical mass of force, all well-accustomed to operating in tandem and commonly equipped for maximal efficacy. Such deployments, adequately planned, could even see fairly regular operational use, though it was difficult to conceive of any such mission requiring more than a single teleportation-capable Squadron or two at a time.

And you'd be familiar with such a thing, wouldn't you? A traitorous voice in the back of my mind whispered. Old memories from a lifetime away came back, if only for a fleeting instant. The circumstances weren't exactly the same. My old 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion couldn't quite teleport, though the rockets the madman Shugel effectively provided us with the next best thing in strategic terms for the era. An elite core of airborne magical soldiers rushed from battlefield to battlefield in a desperate bid to turn the tide wherever and whenever we were needed.

And we were always needed, I shivered at the thought. The grim sense of dread that came as day after day, victory after victory, the Empire's borders only shrank, and the inevitable seemed to inch ever closer, all while High Command worked us to the bone on futile or frivolous pursuits.

Would that be VioletBlood's fate if she managed to join that rumored Wing of Elites? Wrung dry of all her potential by distant commanders who saw her as nothing more than a tool? Is that our fate in our current formation? Yes, we're on leave now, but what about the next shady CSR operation and the one after that?

I was pulled from my thoughts as the pressure shifted, like the feeling before a storm rolled in. Not even a minute later, the overhead speakers clicked on. "Incoming transit from Baria has arrived and will disembark at platform four. Final boarding for outbound transit to Bairia at platform three," stated the announcer.

One of the sets of heavy doors in the far wall slid open and a squat little shunter locomotive painted in an incongruous lime green trundled in, pulling one of the extra large railcars behind it.

The engine tugged the carriage over a switch and down towards platform four, rolling to a complete stop at the platform. After a shuddering moment, doors opened, ramps were put in place, and people began to swarm out while the stevedores started unloading a tithe of the cargo.

A s the new arrival emptied of passengers and cargo, its sister train-car on the other side of the concrete pier that was platforms three and four closed its doors shut and lurched into motion as another stubby shunting engine started to push it out towards the far doors.

"Boarding for the thirteen hundred hours, twenty-seven minutes transit to Diyu will commence on platform six," the announcer said.

"That's us!" Visha cheerily said, and then blanched when she gazed down into her basket and realized she hadn't finished off the last of her potatoes. Not content to leave her task half-undone, she stooped and set to mopping up the survivors with a ferocity I could only call worrisome.

Twisting away from the horrible sight of Visha mauling several small potatoes laden with not-cheese all at once, I stood and rolled my shoulders back. Kinks not yet fully worked out, I approached the guardrail lining this level of the concourse. With enough space to not be rude, I stretched out my wings to their full extent, groaning at the blissful release. This position, on the platform's brink, afforded me not only room to stretch but also a view onto the pier directly below us.

Behind a flashbulb went off, doubtless some tourists getting early pictures of their vacation. Though… my horns tingled a bit… Curious, I looked around for the source of the peculiar sensation. When I lowered my gaze to survey the platform on the lower level, though, the sensation and my curiosity about it faded away completely.

Down below, another railcar was arriving at the waiting platform. Some last-minute cargo was already heaped up, ready to be taken aboard the new arrival, along with a small group of "priority" passengers.

Dressed in a black dress with a veil concealing her pinned up blonde hair, Melisande soberly stood with Lucia in her legion blacks, holding her hand. Beside the widow, a matte black casket waited, strapped to a wheeled dolly for easy transport.

There's only one; in a statistical sense, that's a good sign, My clinically detached side noted before a more sinister internal voice spoke up. Is it though? Diyu-Mursam is the busiest connection in the House; this facility sees thirty transits per day, minimum. How many other trains left the station today with blackened cargo aboard?

Viewing the tableau from above, I felt like some voyeur to their grief, a spectator prying into one of the most intimate and painful moments of another's life. Free from the pain of the participants, aloof from the cumbersome weight of the coffin.

Guiltily, I looked away.

"What are those fat-tailed soft-horned idiots doing?" VioletBlood snarled.

Thankful for the outburst, I turned back to see what had so upset my Baroness. It didn't take long to discover the cause of her agitation; there, past the waiting seats my Squadron had claimed and just now rushing past the collection of concession stands and food stalls, were two Legionary Fliers.

Two Legionary Fliers as familiar as they were unexpectedly out of place.

As the pink-haired senator's daughter and her green-haired wingwoman frantically ran toward us, I sighed. "LoveBlood, I thought your subordinates were taking a transit later this week?" I asked, carefully modulating the acid in my voice

"SkySpear is staying here on Mursam," my Baroness growled as she strode towards the wayward girls, "but yes, those two made their travel plans to me quite clear. Or I thought they had."

"Visha, can you make sure everyone gets down to the platform," I requested as I set off a pace behind VioletBlood.

Primus Centurion Shadow nodded and started policing up our subordinates, retainers, and various dependents.

"They must have valid tickets for today," I observed, catching up with VioletBlood.

"Yes, otherwise they couldn't have gotten onto the concourse," VioletBlood agreed, and then pointed to her errant pilots across the circular concession area at the center of the upper concourse. "Lady Centurions Lavish RoseTalon and Pulivia VibrantFang! What occasion brings me the pleasure of your company on this fine day?" she demanded, pitching her voice to cut through the usual noise of the usual bustle without screaming.

The people around the concession area froze, immediately eager not to draw attention to themselves. There were more than enough service members, off-duty or discharged, and associated people in the throng to recognize an incipient dressing down when they saw one.

The pair looked harried, and each carried only a single personal bag. Glancing between the two, I saw Lavish appeared almost wilted, with her wings and tail hanging limp and her usual arrogance conspicuous in its absence. All but hovering nearby, Pulivia seemed almost protective of her.

I held up a forestalling hand to VioletBlood, who gave me a slight nod and, instead of launching into a public dressing down, strode over towards her subordinates: Pulivia, a daughter of a Duchess with considerable holdings in Lentia Province, and Lavish, a daughter of Belum Province's Procurator Senator.

The Curia had over half a dozen different types of senators, but Senator RoseTalon, as the consented proxy of the Belum provincial governor, was of the most important breed. Besides the honors of rank, both Lentia and Belum Provinces bordered Silvana and thus were critical industrial and agricultural assets, boosting both their mothers up the implicit chain of importance as well as the explicit rank table.

Not that I had room to complain about the influence of rank and privilege upon senatorial function; as a duchess, my mother SilverFlight was granted a Domina Senator in her own right.

"Care to explain this?" VioletBlood demanded, more quietly than before but still a long road from sotto voce.

Confusion briefly clouded Pulivia's nutmeg features before she regained control of herself.

It spoke volumes of my fiancee's command style that such august personages quailed before a mere provincial baroness. The two errant pilots also gave me respectful looks before saluting.

Still, they were Legionary Fliers, and they'd have fought over Harp's World, so they did not entirely wilt under LoveBlood's force of personality.

"Family emergency, Ma'am," Pulivia explained, squaring herself up after we returned their salutes. "As soon as Lavish got the telegraph, I used a couple favors to secure standby seats out of the block you have reserved for today, and even then the timing was... close."

Lavish seemed oddly meek but squeezed her wingwoman's hand in gratitude.

"And what happened?" VioletBlood asked, her posture not quite so hostile as it had been a moment before.

"It was a trolley accident in Belum city, my little sister..." Lavish's expression was painfully young. like a crying puppy first learning that not everyone was a friend and that people could be cruel.

Not that I was stonily stoic at that revelation. I had, after all, my own sensitivities when it came to rail-based injuries.

I could feel the pink-haired woman's raw hurt and affronted surprise like a humid cloud against my face. A common issue of our species, so gifted and so individually mighty, was that many demons operated under the delusion that death's embrace was not something they had to worry about, that our kind had grown so mighty as to be functionally immune to the end of all things.

This was a mistaken belief; accidents, violence, starvation, or even fatigue of the spirit claimed our kind every day. Even women who had trod Diyu's earth in the antediluvian First Epoch could die. This realization separated the public at large from the military, and from other subcultures that dwelt close to the precipice. Unlike the average demon, any who had served and had seen the teeth of war knew to their bones that death could come for them just as easily as it came for any of the lesser-framed species who we shared Diyu with.

Perhaps Lavish had hoped that, with her sacrifice, her family would be immune from such a fate, that she had purchased insurance for them with the obol of her soul. That death would follow her over to the out-world colonies and not stay lurking in civilized Bellum Province.

"Leilah's alive." Pulivia squeezed Lavish's hand back. "And we Wheatstone'd back that we're coming."

VioletBlood gave me a look. I could feel that her own anger had evaporated, but she didn't want to undermine my authority or me to undermine hers. "You could have messaged the concourse," she said, firmly but not harshly, "or sent a runner."

I nodded, sending LoveBlood my approval at her stance.

Pulivia blinked, looking hurt. "Ma'am, I did leave a message with the ticket office. Didn't they tell you?"

VioletBlood rubbed her forehead and began to mutter about shiftless railway ticket-punchers.

"I can get some refreshments? For us all to have something before the transit?" Pulivia offered.

"Are you sure your stomach is up for it? " I asked.

"Maybe some light pitas or other wraps?" the green-haired but not-so-greenhorn pilot offered.

"Tempting," VioletBlood conceded with a put-upon sigh. "And I do need to yell at some transit ticket-girls."

"We can deal with that later, we need to get to the platform," I turned to Lavish. "And you need to get back home to your sister."

"Leilah has her own job, she can go to the haberdashery and back home by herself." Lavish muttered, looking down. "Maybe she shouldn't have."

I was unsure how, or even if, I should respond to that.

"Come, let's get to the platform," VioletBlood said as she and Pulivia helped guide Lavish towards the ticket booth that gated the stairwell down to our platform.

Seeing that Visha had wrangled the rest of our party, I motioned for us to reunite. I did not know much about Leilah; Lavish was a prideful and prickly being, but she seemed to have a soft spot for that particular sister of hers.

"It's not fair, Leilah's worked so hard," Lavish was wailing to Pulivia. "She never wanted much, just to be..."

"She'll heal," Pulivia assured before VioletBlood pulled her to one of the last food stalls before the check-in line and bullied up to the counter.

Lavish was also drawn in the redhead's wake. "But what if she... what if she's worse? She can't live by herself as it is! What if she loses what little independence she has? And that's before my mother reacts to all this..."

"That... that will be very hard," I said, floundering. "I knew some girls at the orphanage with similar challenges, but they were adopted and prospered." There was a ghost of jealousy in my voice, like a faded scar, not that I got those anymore. Among the girls my age, I was the last one to be adopted, and that was only after earning the House's highest award for gallantry. I knew what it was like to be passed over by others, to be seen as... deficient.

"Leilah was adopted, rescued from an orphanage far worse than yours, Countess. Mother has really done a lot for her..." Lavish gave a soft smile as we shuffled forward as the line advanced. "The rest of her daughters are a fair bit older, and more established, than Leilah and I."

I nodded. I only had some experience when it came to the political intrigue family dynasties got up to, but a younger, and arguably spare, daughter as a dashing pilot had obvious utility, to burnish the credentials of a key senator in the Curia. And a... a very cynical person would look to caring for someone like Leilah as a way to display compassion.

Tail flicking, Lavish's face clouded. "It's not like that," she defended, so rattled that she barely managed to be offended by my unspoken implication.

I held a hand. "It's really not my place to say or critique such a thing. I'm happily adopted myself."

Lavish studied my expression and nodded, relaxing slightly. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"At least eat something," VioletBlood grumped as she returned with Pulivia in tow and handed over some greasy collection of meats on a skewer from a bucket her subordinate carried.

Lavish automatically tore into the snack. I was still hesitant about eating before boarding myself, but the food seemed to help calm her.

And then VioletBlood handed me something fried on a stick. Reservations about eating before a trip were pushed aside by the delicious scent and social compunctions. Everyone around me was eating, and even Lavish was being made to eat to help settle her nerves. At this point it would just be rude of me not to partake, potential stomach discomfort be damned. Biting into it, I was pleased to find it was poultry of some sort with a garlic, cumin, and cayenne spiced breading.

A nibble couldn't hurt.

The line kept marching forward with the people in front pulling out their tickets and identification: military IDs for the members of my Squadron and library cards for their dependents.

By the time I got to the ticket counter, I found that the surprisingly satisfying treat was all gone. The waiting Visha plucked the empty stick from my hand and tossed it in a receptacle near the ticket counter. The clerk checked my papers and buzzed me through the turnstile.

VioletBlood was behind me and, as her paperwork was studied, another bored clerk handed her a message slip. The Baroness's eye twitched as she nearly tore up the too-late missive announcing her subordinate's revised travel itinerary.

Leaving my angry fiancee to vent her spleen on the hapless employee, I went down the stairs, content to leave her as somebody else's problem to appease. Stepping off the stairs at the new level, I looked ahead, then back. It was a bit overwhelming to see so many people at once, even if I held twice as many under my command. At least I could console myself with the knowledge that most would split up and go their own ways once we arrived in Silvana.

By the time I got down to the platform, the pier had started to fill up with waiting passengers, including the "special passengers" I had noticed earlier. Seeing Lavish's state Melisande beckoned her and seemed to comfort the distraught pilot.

"Milly has a big heart," Visha noted as she pulled us aside to make way for some final cargo loading onto the rail car.

"That she does," I agreed distractedly as I gave the crowd another once-over, running through a mental headcount. All present and accounted for. Then, I turned my attention to the waiting train car. It was an immense beast whose large width somehow conspired to give it a low-slung, slumping appearance; up close, it was imposing, almost menacing, for all the solid dark railcar slept unmoving in its rails.

The glossy blue-black bodywork was chased in gleaming brass fittings and powder blue piping. Hissing vents and thick cabling were visible all over the single large railcar that thrummed with power even when stilled. The front half had hooded windows, while the back half could be peeled open to allow for oversized cargo, such as the tank. It resembled nothing more than a great bear, somnolent for now but containing a vast and motionless power held in the offing, ready to lash out in an instant.

"I just checked with the porters! All our bags are loaded and secured," VioletBlood chirped as she came up beside us, her tail swishing in pride.

"Now boarding for Diyu," a conductor in a double-breasted navy-blue uniform with shiny buttons announced as she walked up the platform and, with great ceremony, opened the passenger door.

Boarding was efficient and happily bereft of any great fuss. At the edge of the platform I paused for a moment, then briskly walked up the boarding ramp, VioletBlood guiding us towards our seats. I shook my head, shoving the brief unease I'd felt when I approached the train-car away. The trip by rail was the safest leg of this whole journey.

Strapping in, I smoothed my uniform top and frowned, still haunted by the vague disquiet. Eager for distraction, I looked to my left, grateful that VioletBlood had managed to get us window seats. There wasn't much to look at outside, but it beat the uncharacteristic tightness of my skin.

Is this claustrophobia? I wondered, running an eye up to the compartment's low ceiling. No, that doesn't feel quite right either…

The half-dozen or so rows rapidly filled up as the freight was double checked and the cargo door behind us was closed.

My subordinates took up only about half of the seats but soon almost the entire compartment was full as other passengers filed in to fill the gaps. As they found their seats and my stomach gurgled, I rolled my shoulders and shifted my tail, striving to scrape out what little comfort I could find in this chair.

Melisande had insisted, in an only slightly muted display of her usual ebullience that Lavish and Pulivia sit next to her and Lucia. An offer the junior pair of fliers hesitantly accepted at VioletBlood's nod. They seemed to be providing some measure of comfort for each other.

The conductor stepped up to the ramp and stood halfway in the rail car. My tail curled at her casual disregard for her own safety. "Final boarding for thirteen hundred hours, twenty-seven minutes transit to Diyu," she announced, inspecting her pocket watch.

After looking around to make sure we were all secured and that the platform was clear of any last minute boarders, the conductor nodded. Closing her pocket watch with a carrying click, she stepped back onto the platform, pulled the ramp back after her, and pulled the door closed, sealing us inside.

It was just us passengers aboard the train-car as the shunting engine grumbled to life behind us and began pushing us forward. It felt like the rumbling purr of a waking leviathan, shaking the frame of the car and pushing us forward. The concourse with its two levels and splayed platforms retreated behind us. As our single car and engine lumbered forward, another car slipped up to take our berth, the new arrival identical in every way to our own steed. Another cog in a vast, endlessly complex machine, through which fragile lives passed without leaving the slightest mark.

The doors in the large wall ahead of us slid open revealing a long hall-like chamber. Heavy power cables and trunks of cooling piping all snaked towards the center of the hall where an intricate scaffold-like structure.

Resembling the ribcage of some giant metal beast the railway tracks lead straight into the opening in the center of the construct.

The blast door slid back into place behind us with a dull, booming, clunk. As we drew closer, the Gateway grew larger in the front-facing windows and the air became thick with coiled energy. It was like stepping out into a thunderstorm.

My horns tingled as our railcar began to slide under the rune-inscribed ribs of the gateway. Even in an idle state, the air over the Gateway's struts shimmered like heat rising off hot asphalt. This close, I could make out a ghostly double of the enchanted ribs.

That was the thaumaturgical connection bleeding over. On Diyu was another Gateway, the exact twin to this one. Both had been constructed at the same time, from the same set of components, and the same artificers engraved them together. In a very real way, there was only one Teleport Gateway. It simply existed in two places at once.

This was a major limitation of such travel. Transiting a gateway would only take a person to its twin. Which was why the Mursam Transit Concourse connected to four distinct Gateways.

Reinhild's and all the other kitsune's ears quivered as the Gateway powered up. I supposed they were just as sensitive as the rest of us, perhaps moreso.

"Why is this taking so long?" VioletBlood complained as the rail car came to a stop. We were now entirely within the dozen or so scaffolding ribs that made up the Gateway. There was a thud and clunk as the small shunting locomotive disconnected and trundled back down the tracks.

"We're going to be there soon enough," Visha assured as the vibrations grew and the glowing within the Gateway increased.

"Do not leave the chamber. Ready for transit," the announcer said via the speakers in the ceiling of the rail car. "Please secure all high evocation systems and ready for transit."

My tail curled as the energy grew. It was like being on an airship before teleport but more... focused. A Gateway's main advantages over a Teleport Rune-equipped airship were range and frequency. The former was not applicable as Mursam and Diyu were within one airship jump, though the other three worlds were much further out on the spine. But the lack of flexibility was the system's main disadvantage.

"Transit in three. Two. One."

There was a flash and a buzzing in my horns. For an instant, it felt like I had been catapulted into the sky while my stomach stayed on the ground. Then the pressure subsided, and I blinked out the window. For a gut-wrenching moment, I cursed my hubris in not following mother's advice. Thankfully, I managed to get control of my nausea.

We were still within the rib-like struts of a Gateway, inside a cavernous concrete room very similar to the one we had just left. VioletBlood gave a quick glance out the windows, then tilted her head back to give me a skeptical look, utterly unimpressed.

"Welcome to Silvana, local time is ten-hundred hours, five minutes," an announcer smoothly stated in the same bland, vaguely Lentia provincial accent.

"See," I assured and then pointed out. "Look around: the ceiling here is lower and the support cabling and cooling lines are in different locations.

"I suppose so," VioletBlood conceded with poor grace, and crossed her arms.

"It is a fast way to travel." Visha smiled as our rail car shuddered as a new shunting engine drove up, coupled, and withdrew the car out of the Gateway.

"And the longest leg of our journey is over in the least amount of time," I announced, looking over the seats and out the window as our car was pulled through another set of blast doors and up to the Silvana Fleet Port's concourse platforms.

"It will be nice to come back home and check in on my cousin," VioletBlood said as the rail car approached the platform.

Visha's tail flicked.

"We've invited your family over for the holidays," I assured her. They would have a lengthy journey ahead of them if they meant to accept that invitation, though; Amber Island was about twice as far from Eastern Province as Silvana.

"I'm sure they'll be able to make the trip," despite her sharp smile, VioletBlood's tone was reassuring.

Visha's face showed naked, but happy, shock at the gesture.

"Oh Islander Girl, it was going to be a surprise," VioletBlood gave a haughty laugh as the engine slowed and we stopped at the platform.

"That's very kind of you, LoveBlood," Visha acknowledged after a pause, and smiled graciously.

The baroness waved it off. "It's the least I could do. Getting your mothers to accept the tickets as a gift was the hard part."

The door opened, and a new conductor stepped in. She wore the same overly ostentatious uniform as her dimensionally-separated sister. "Welcome to Silvana. Please gather your personal belongings and disembark in an orderly fashion."

We stood up and exited onto the platform as bidden by the voice of uniformed authority. As we stepped clear of the shuffling queue, Melisande and Lucia stopped to say their goodbyes to Lavish and Pulivia.

I gave the quartet a private moment before approaching, my Vs falling into position behind me. With most of my subordinates splitting up to find their own tracks back to their homes from here, this was my chance to send them off on a high note. The four paused their conversation to stand to and salute. I returned their formal gesture and, when they relaxed, gave them a sympathetic smile before turning away.

Their time and, more importantly, their bereavement and pain was their own, beyond the chain of command. Yet, I was their commander, and Melisande and Lucia's loss was red ink in my ledger. Even if their grief was their own, I took a piece with me when I left them on the platform, for it was mine, bought and paid for. That was part of being a leader, and so it was a pain I could not share with that bereaved pair, two where once had been three. That was also part of being a leader.

I hoped that my smile conveyed to them that I at least understood their pain, even if I could not share their grief. If that sentiment was missed, and all they took from it was an obligatory platitude duly rendered, that would be fine as well.

Duty done, I turned to my V's and smiled more warmly. With them, at least for now… I was free of rank, and of command.

I was on leave, and I had come home at last.

+++++

The Oily Lemon was much as it was months ago. There were more grandiose wine bars in Silvana, of course, drinking holes drowning in frippery and bristling with carefully curated collections managed by the finest vintners money could buy. But, out of all of the establishments in the city, this was the chosen haunt of the Fleet Pilots and Legionary Fliers, separated from the Imperial War college only by a short walk up-slope.

Despite location and a clientele consisting of troopers, journeymen, artificers, and other hard-working, hard-partying folks, the Oily Lemon enjoyed a somewhat surprising reputation as a quiet and discreet venue, where one's mild pleasures could be indulged without fear of commotion or discovery.

"My Lady, are you receiving guests?" a waitress in a brief yellow uniform said, after giving me a slight bow. She stood at the doorway to our private covered patio, almost vibrating with eagerness to be useful.

"May I ask who they are?"

The tall amber-haired hostess approached on dainty hooves and deposited a pair of calling cards on the table before the couch I was lounging on with my Vs.

Blinking, Visha looked up from her fragrant shellfish soup while VioletBlood set her brandy glass down with all the smooth grace of a born and bred noble. Gibbs, not too far away from us, put her clay pipe down, her sour expression flickered before she clamped it down with a mask of neutrality. It even seemed like the patio next to ours, separated by billowing drapery, had quieted down with anticipation.

I could understand my companions' reactions. Both cards were rather plain and straightforward. The first Fabia Firmitas HarrowFang's card was refreshingly blunt and to the point, although I realized most would have considered that "
rude" for our rung of society; Mila Caenis, at least, had sprung for some decorative scrollwork and a tasteful watermark of swirling air in the corner of her card.

"Yes, of course. Please send them in," I directed, nodding to the hostess. As she bustled out, I tried to conceal my mild unease. It was somewhat strange that they would seek me out, but we were still in the early stretch of our leave, and it was no secret where my party was staying tonight.

Best that their business be handled now, I thought, That way, they can go away and I can enjoy the remainder of my vacation in peace.

"Maybe they just arrived today?" VioletBlood offered.

"Or sometime yesterday after our teleport," Visha offered.

"At least they caught us before we went to the opera." VioletBlood smiled with anticipation.

"I'm just happy you found a show that wasn't based on religion or war," I said, not bothering to conceal my evident relief.

"The Markswoman is a romantic opera," my fiancee purred.

I raised an eyebrow. The play was a Diyu adaptation of a centuries old Germanic Opera, and my knowledge of the source material inclined me heavily towards skeptical disbelief towards the claimed romanticism. "The play focuses on shooting contests, forestry management, and magic bullets."

"And Maxine wants to get engaged to Agathe!"

"To get the custodianship of the lands Agathe's mother holds. It is a pure business arrangement," I sighed , feeling the first twinges of a headache beginning to brew behind my horns.

"Is that not romantic?" VioletBlood pouted. "Besides, it ends with a wedding!"

"One of the brides accidentally shoots the other in her wedding veil!" I countered. "Hardly the sought-for conclusion to most romances, I should hope."

"I thought the opera was more about not hastily making deals with Elder Demonesses," Visha amiably said, adding her own opinion to the simmering pot.

"And a lesson about why only a fool would use Elder Magic to cheat in a shooting competition, especially when a Daughter is judging," Gibbs remarked with a thoughtful puff on her pipe.

She sat some distance from us, at the far end of the patio by the railing overlooking a garden. With both her daughters deployed, Legionaries seconded as ship-board security as part of a patrol far Up-Spine, she had elected to spend her leave at my estate. A choice that a handful of our Ritualista in similar situations had elected to avail themselves towards as well. The bonus pay for their maintenance duties was enticing, but not as much as the chance of a comfortable billet or a trip home.

"Could just be a social call. Before all you fancy fliers scatter to the five winds," the chief Ritualista said.

I pondered that. Four of my pilots and over a dozen Ritualista, were staying on Mursam. Meanwhile, the other four pilots who traveled with us yesterday, well, five, if IronTalon was included, had continued their journey.

That was a somber note.

On another down beat duty of command, Pulivia had promised VioletBlood to keep her appraised events with Lavish's sister.

"Maybe they heard about you getting your new suit... mostly," VioletBlood smirked as she swirled her brandy before taking a sip. "I bet they're just eager to hear the details."

"It's not even complete," I stared at her. "And the... upgrades I've seen so far are..."

I looked to Gibbs for support. DarSkStar's Blood, didn't she claim the suit was really hers and I was just the meat component? Of course, she had... concerns of her own.

VioletBlood also glanced over at the Ritualista, who pointedly returned to study the garden's pond and babbling brook. Perhaps she wanted to avoid discussion of subjects above her station; perhaps she would rather be in the next patio over with the other Ritualista. If that was the case, Gibbs could get up and pass through the privacy drapes whenever she wished. She showed no signs of movement, though.

Laurentia and Flavia from my maintenance team, as well as three Ritualista from VioletBlood's crew and one from Visha's, were having a rather relaxing time on the other side of that curtain. I had looked the other way when they'd arrived with dates on their arms, as well as when they had ordered seemingly every intoxicant available on the Lemon's menu almost before they were even seated. I was hardly ignorant about what soldiers got up to on leave, especially ones of our nature, but as long as things were done responsibly then I could hardly kick up a fuss. Especially since I had Visha and LoveBlood both practically hanging off me, the latter who was enjoying a bottle herself.

So long as I didn't see any of those partaking first thing in the morning in the company of a pair of civic constables, or Shore Patrol shippies, I would be happy to keep that blind eye well and truly turned.

"Your new armor is very impressive," the redhead was pouting. "And it'll be even more impressive when it's complete."

"If it's ever complete. They still haven't given me my mask back," I said, not at all petulantly. It had taken much to keep that mask, and myself, from being some Elenese trophy. Having it out of my control for this long made me... uncomfortable.

"I'm sure it just takes time, Countess," VioletBlood said in a reassuring voice.

"Reinforcing damaged structure, proofing runes, and certifying displays on a face mask is indeed a lengthy process," Gibbs stated as she glanced at the doorway. We could all hear our guests approaching.

"It's been two weeks," I grumbled. The MuArc facility here should be more than capable of making the changes in this much time. Especially as the mask part of the faceplate could, with great care, be detached from all the structural, optical, and enchanted components.

Really, what could possibly be taking them so long?

VioletBlood looked out into the garden "Perhaps there's a large queue?"

Eyes down, Gibbs had redirected all her attention towards refilling her pipe.

"LoveBlood…" I began, recognizing the caginess in my Baroness's voice, "What do you know?"

"Only that the mask may not be at a... standard repair location." She flinched slightly under the weight of my unimpressed glower.

"Oh? How intriguing? So, where is it, hmm? And how long were you planning on sitting on this information?" I asked with an edge to my voice.

"It wasn't my idea! It was a surprise. And besides, Honestas and SapphireFiligree do wonderful work," VioletBlood said nervously.

"The same people who made her crown?" Visha asked, looking up from her soup at the familiar name.

As soon as I recognized the name a kind of numb dread filled my gut. The kind born from the realization that something terrible was going to happen and you were far too late to do anything about it.

"Of course it is," I sighed.

"I'm sure they'll make time for us to visit their shop so you can see their accent work before we go to the train station tomorrow."

"I thought it was a surprise?" Visha asked.

"I'm sure they'll make an exception for a Countess," VioletBlood evaded before gulping down the last of her drink. Relief filled her green eyes as a chipper hostess escorted Fabia and Caenis onto our patio.

I straightened up and idly adjusted my uniform top to be as presentable as possible. Visha and VioletBlood certainly didn't giggle, not at all.

"Countess, Baroness," Caenis bowed her horns in greeting.

"Primus Shadow, Centurion Gibbs," Fabia added. "Thanks for having us."

"Please, sit," I gestured to an open couch opposite our low table.

My fellow Squadron Leaders sat down. VioletBlood nodded to the waitress still hovering by the door. She took out a pair of glasses and filled them from the Baroness's bottle.

"Please order whatever you like," I warmly told the pair, and countered their protests with polite insistence until they relented.

The waitress nodded as they picked items off the menu and scampered away with new lines on her notepad.

Caenis raised her wineglass and gave an appreciative sniff before sipping. "Sorry to impose."

"Oh, it's no imposition. It's good that we could meet up. Are… you going back home as well?" I asked with mild trepidation. I knew Caenis had a… complicated relationship with her family and her home county and was unsure of whether I should be opening that line of questioning at all.

"Aye, she's going back down to the Midlands. I'll be heading further down south to Danum ways to enjoy some warm beaches."

Visha's smile grew at that. "That sounds lovely. Will you be doing any boating? Oh, maybe some swimming! I've heard they have some beautiful reefs down there."

"I was debating going fishing," Fabia admitted.

That seemed to get Gibbs's interest. "What type, Ma'am?"

"Spear."

Everyone nodded to that while I tried not to shake my head at the casual lust for unnecessary violence of these crazy demons. It's not like I'd never heard of spear fishing as a human, it was just… so woefully inefficient, not to mention excessive.

Well, far be it from me to bemoan the impractical rituals of blood thirsty demons, I sighed internally. I myself would be far more content with a nice, civilized, and relaxed rod and reel.

"We should go hunting when we get to Eastern Province," VioletBlood abruptly declared. "Maybe Reinhild can arrange something. Oh! How about Fiona RedTail? In addition to being a great cook, she supposedly was training to be a groundskeeper and good with broodlings; she'll surely be of great assistance!"

"Neither are from Eastern Province," I countered, though I was impressed that VioletBlood had started to learn more about the servants as people. Reinhild and the other maids had the d ay off seeing the sights of the capital and were going to have dinner on their own. The plan was that later tonight they would catch up and we would go to the opera together. Well, most of the kitsune would be coming with us; the kits and an adult as babysitter would remain behind at the hotel.

VioletBlood shook her head at me. I wondered if she was still pouting that we were not dressing up for the show tonight. "Yes, yes, your Forest Person friend would know the area, but we can't assume he'll be available, but the maids will be with us."

I blinked. "That's... true."

"And, either way, we can make a day of it. I'm sure you have lots of interesting game trails in your county," Visha added with her typical diplomatic touch, smoothing the brief conversational rough patch.

"I mean..." I looked to Fabia or Caenis for help and found nothing but smiles, both apparently far too amused to bail me out. "I suppose we could do something…"

"Both common folk and nobility can enjoy a good woodswalk, I'm sure," Caenis drawled. "Course, in the former case, it's less sport and more sustenance."

The waitress arrived, and clearly, Fabia was thinking of her own vacation destination as, in addition to white wine, she had ordered a plate of spiced kebabs laden with chunks of grilled tuna garnished with lime, onion, and tomato. Caenis's own order, cider and a pita with cubed fried pork, was more humble but smelled no less appetizing.

"Have either of you heard from Julia?" I asked, inquiring about our Fourth Squadron Leader.

"Last I heard, she's still on Mursam," Fabia shrugged.

"She'll be going somewhere nice," Caenis assured me.

"Good, she could use some time away to relax too," I nodded, trying not to look too covetously at Fabia's meal.

There was another polite knock, heralding the hostess's reappearance. Her tail flicked as she held out two more calling cards.

As I took the ornate cards, Visha quietly took her aside and ordered us a set of kebabs. I smiled at her initiative as I glanced down at the new cards and read the names embossed upon them, all gilt scrollwork on textured stock. They were very impressive, but I had been given the calling card of one of the Imperatrix's Daughters. Compared to the enchanted calling card of Aedile Felisia, these were nothing special.

With a fresh glass of brandy, VioletBlood leaned over, nearly draping her head across my shoulder as she tried to get a look at the cards. "Well, well, well, more guests!"

"How does everyone keep finding me?" I asked, waving the cards.

"This was the first place we looked. It was where Pilots would hang out when I was at the War College," Fabia revealed with a relaxed smile, clearly enjoying her wine.

"May I ask who?" Caenis nodded to the cards.

"A couple of Legionaries from the cadet Squadron we taught last year," I said as the hostess went off to escort them in.

"Maybe it's a coincidence?" VioletBlood offered. "Our cadets were going here long before we started! Some have been patrons of the Lemon for a very long time indeed." She gestured to Fabia.

"I'm not that old!" Fabia grumbled while Caenis chuckled.

Wanting to avoid the attention of irritable officers, Gibbs wisely focused on her pipe.

As if to contrast the most certainly not "old" Fabia, the hostess returned with a pair of young, painfully-eager-looking Legionaries.

With dark lavender skin and slim pointed horns, Lady Marilla Balbina was a wispy daughter of the head of the Mason and Runewright Guild, whose aetherial nature was underlined by her breezy cobalt blue dress. According to the pins in her braided silver hair, she was in the Scouting Branch and held the rank of Volantes Centurion. She stepped into the room with a demure elegance.

At her side was the shorter, and more pugnacious form of Armis Centurion Baroness Cornelia SpiralHorn. True to her name, her horns curled like mine but were far thicker. Her ash-colored hair was cut in a short pageboy. From her unit markings, she had been assigned to the 18th Heavy Armor Legion. It was a venerable Legion and, critically, not the one commanded by her mother, a Lady Legate.

The pair took in our own uniforms and hair pins before saluting. "Thank you for having us, Ma'am," Cornelia said in a prim voice that was the clear result of many careful elocution lessons.

"Especially when you were already entertaining," Balbina added, a little bit perturbed at being in a room with three Prefect Centurions and two Primus Centurions.

I returned the salute. "No, it's a pleasure to catch up. Please make yourself at home and allow me to make introductions."

That seemed to ease the tension a bit. Fabia and Caenis helped by not being in "intimidating commanding officer mode", Visha helped by ordering more food, and VioletBlood even pitched in by ordering a round of drinks.

By Balbina and Cornelia's pleased reactions, it seemed that my Vs had remembered their preferences in both meat and drink. Cornelia sipped a wineglass of amber fluid which was apparently a mix of white wine and blackcurrant liqueur while Balbina enjoyed a repast of champagne dashed with absinthe.

While I was still eager for my own set of kabobs, though Fabia was nice enough to share one of her own with me as I waited, I did appreciate Visha ordering things the kitchen could whip up quickly for our new guests. Having some refreshments and sitting down on the last couch, my former cadets seemed eager to talk.

"We were meeting up as both of us were in the city for a few days and decided to catch-up, and well... we heard that you three were also in tonight, Ma'am."

I managed not to rub my face in discomfort. It was not like I was planning on traveling covertly, but it was a bit disquieting how easily I could be tracked down in one of Diyu's largest cities.

"How have you two been doing?" I asked in a bit to change the topic, adding, "I see you've both secured some very good postings."

I was trying my best to be sincere and gracious, especially with Cornelia. She had been one of the more tragic washouts of the cadet program, subject to an inner ear deficiency that only came out under extreme maneuvers, much to hers and everybody else's surprise. Basic flight lessons in a trainer RP were not enough to trigger the vertigo and motion sickness. The training scenarios in my lesson plan were a different matter.

"Good!" She answered with commendable enthusiasm and only a shadow of hurt at being surrounded by RP pilots. "I'm a commander of my own Lavin Mark 4 and have one of the best crews around! I'm working my way up to commanding a troop of four tanks once a slot opens up."

"Impressive, excellent work," I saluted with my glass. And it was true. I had given her a good recommendation, and Cornelia's mother was a tanker herself. However, such connections would at the most net a green-horned mediocrity command of a Vestal Light Tank.

Nepotism alone would be enough to ensure the greenhorn's first command would be nothing less than the most recent version of the Vestal, instead the casement armed bone-yard candidate their skill and experience more justly merited. But connections only went so far in the Legions, and past a certain point a wink, a smile, and a tail swish ceased to carry much weight. The other heavy armored vehicles in the Legions were more specialized, expensive, and bulkier. And in an air-mobile force, such assets were quite valuable. Too valuable to entrust to a talentless fool, no matter how well-heeled.

And yet, no less a fine mount than a Lavin had been entrusted to Cornelia.

The pinnacle of armored vehicles in the regular Legionnaire services, the Lavin was a main battle tank that possessed a formidable balance of mobility, protection, and firepower. It was more than capable of handling all the usual targets of a tank, such as infantry and other armored vehicles, but it even mounted respectable anti-air countermeasures. Enough to satisfy the judgment of BlackSky's air-dominant legions.

All of which came at the cost of each Lavin weighing in at no less than seventy tons attached to an equally weighty construction and maintenance price tag. A valuable resource to any formation, let alone one built around air dropping every pound of kit. For such a force, not an ounce of airlift capacity could be wasted.

"Have you gotten any chance to field-test it?" VioletBlood asked with a fang-baring smile, her tail eagerly swishing.

Cornelia shook her head regretfully. "We haven't had a full deployment of the Legion. My Cohort, the Fifth, and also the Sixth Cohort participated in some peacekeeping support work out on Laotia, but that was a glorified deployment exercise. We hardly even fired the Minerva rotary canons."

I raised an eyebrow. Her Legion only had a couple dozen Lavin battle tanks. The commitment attached to that "support operation" included a third of the 18th's heavy armor. "How long were you there?"

She shrugged. "Felt like we spent more time on the two Cerberus class airships than we did groundside. Plus, we were all split up with the bulk of our centuries on the troopship following along."

"I can believe it. Laotia is what, a week out from Diyu?" Visha asked.

"Almost," Cornelia agreed.

Caenis and Fabia shared a curious look with me. I nodded in silent agreement. As a Long Range Insertion ship, the Cerberus class was a battleship-sized airship built for one purpose: rapidly deploying tanks into a combat zone. Thus, it carried tanks, the heavy dropships to land them, and extra RP to provide escort.

If the intent of the mission planners had been to simply transport a couple Cohorts worth of heavy tanks from one secure base to another, then a single Palisade armor transport could have done the job. That class was designed to transport two armor Cohorts, including all their armor, Legionaries, artillery, cargo, and support vehicles.

A Cerberus, let alone two of them, would have been a massive over commitment for such a mission. DarkStar's Blood, there weren't even a dozen such leviathans in the whole Household Fleet

"I kept count by the number of different meals the shippies served us. The Fleet really does eat well," the Armis Centurion said guiltily.

"Even on a Venture they really try. I'd know a scouting patrol would end after the fourth time we were served sorbet and iced Camporelli biscuits," Balbina agreed, her tone wistful with the remembrance of sumptuous meals served on the Fleet's dime.

"Oh, so you've done an offworld combat drop exercise? How was it?" Visha asked, having made the same conclusion as the rest of us, but true to her nature focusing on the positive. "I always thought it would be really impressive to land all that armor at such speed, but also quite intense. Not much room for error or any time for correction."

"It's not that far of a drop," Cornelia said, her pointedly casual air an implicit swagger at having done something even Legionary Fliers found risky. "The Pugio comes in pretty low and the tank's mounted on a pallet with 'chutes. The Lavin is a sturdy girl, between the suspension and spirits, she can handle it."

"And it was a quiet deployment?" I asked to confirm.

"Yeah, everyone says Laiotia is a 'future flashpoint' or whatever term Legionary Letters uses, but that far out most of the Elenese colonists are too busy surviving than causing trouble." Cornelia shrugged, then tossed back the rest of her drink.

I shifted slightly on my couch. "Future flashpoint" was putting it mildly. Far from Diyu, Laotia was the only world we shared with House Elena, and could very well present a choke point for further explorations up the Spine. Though that, of course, depended on what new worlds the Cartographer's Guild found out there, in the inky dark...

And on nothing finding us instead…

"Most?" Caenis casually asked, not missing a thing.

"There's always some rabble-rousers but BlackSkyvian armor put the fear of the Imperatrix into them!" Cornelia proudly declared. Then she coughed. "Or... they put their heads down until it was time for us to leave. Whichever."

"It's a Legionary's lot to go where we're told regardless of logic or reason," Fabia said philosophically before going back to her meal.

Caenis nodded in agreement, but I could feel her pensiveness. Was that display of heavy armored mobility part of our Harp's World operation? Or just some other bit of off-world saber rattling?

"How about you? How's Scouting Branch treating you?" I asked Balbina to Cornelia's poorly concealed relief, happy to have had the officers' attention no longer upon her.

"It has its moments," the young pilot nodded.

Oh DarkStar, when did the greenhorns start to seem so young? I thought to myself as I took a drink. And how bad will it feel in a couple years when they actually are younger than me?

"Where are you stationed?" Visha asked, with the friendly smile that opened hearts and loosened tongues across worlds and lives.

"The HFV Coxswain, which, as far a Ventures, go isn't so bad," Balbina assured, though the way her wings unconsciously stretched a bit put some lie to her statement. "Since she's part of Northern Approaches' dedicated recon force, the Coxswain doesn't have a teleport system."

"That would save some space," I admitted, a touch belatedly. A swishing of tails from the servers had distracted me. Blinking, I turned my mind back to what the young scout flier had said.

With a total complement of under sixty, the Venture class was the smallest airship in the Fleet. It made sense that such a lightweight vessel had been stripped down to the bare necessities of military life and function. There were versions that had the extra expense, tonnage, and cost of teleport runes such as the HFVTamora from my last mission, but those were dedicated scouts for mobile fleets, flotillas, and the like.

"Most of the weight and space we saved just got used up carrying extra spare parts," Balbina admitted before brightening. "But, Cargo Hold Two did have an extra refrigeration unit installed! So having more good food did make the rather... cozy berthing space and all those draining patrol flights a bit more tolerable."

All of us nodded with sympathy. A Venture was little more than a mobile hangar, barracks, and maintenance bay for six Ritual Plate, Ritualista, and the ship's crew. While the airship itself had its own quite good scrying systems, its main role was housing the RP, who used their own scrying suites to extend the picket's range of detection. Depending on the loadout of the Venture in question, the resulting coverage could grow quite broad. Even a Polydora at sedate cruising speed had a combat radius of over seven hundred fifty miles for a four hour mission, which meant a lot of telemetric intake from the diminutive mothership.

"It's funny, Ma'am," Balbina went on, sounding more than halfway nostalgic. "Back at the Adria Testing Range, under your training, I was so jealous watching you and the other instructors go north to chase off those Elenese pilots, but after months of patrolling the western half of our border with Elena..."

"You find yourself repenting of your old wishes?" VioletBlood smirked as she nodded to the returning servers, holding out a glass in the full expectation that it would be taken, refilled, and returned to her.

Fabia and Caenis looked between each other with amusement. Given their backgrounds, I could see how they found young noble officers shamelessly expecting to be waited on hand and foot to be sufficiently noteworthy as to be an amusing novelty. Where Gibbs seemed utterly indifferent towards VioletBlood's attitude.

The purple-skinned pilot nodded. "I stopped wishing for exciting patrols early on."

"Ah, wisdom dawns," I quipped as a maid – at last! – handed me a platter of kabobs. I smiled and dug in, after repaying Fabia for her loan by letting her take one of the fresh kabobs.

"It really does stress things," Balbina sighed. "Mostly for us pilots but everyone else too, to some extent. It's really trying for our Ritualista in particular."

Gibbs puffed her pipe. "That is a big weakness of that class. Keeping a persistent air patrol is an exercise of trying to run up a muddy slope. Any slipup and all your progress is gone as you tumble downhill."

Recognizing the chief maintainer from her former days with the cadet Squadron, Balbina grimaced while we pilots all nodded in sympathy. "Um... yes, Centurion Gibbs, we try to do our best for our Ritualista, but a three shift schedule is hard for everybody. For us Pilots and, of course, for the poor short-staffed Ritualista crammed in that tiny maintenance bay."

"And there's no margin if one suit gets a maintenance casualty due to something breaking and it can't be repaired in the hours before it has to fly again," Gibbs half grumbled, narrowed eyes set on some distant horizon where her work was never finished.

"Honestly, I sort of prefer the missions where the Coxswain is short-handed on RP," Balbina confessed, looking down into her glass. "Those times, the ship itself is the sensor platform and we're just support. Even then, though… Just four pilots split up across the shifts, all in readiness to scramble? It's pretty tiresome."

"That's why it's best to have multiple Ventures, or on a true patrol, mixed Ventures and Kolibris. I mean, that's why the Kolibri is called a patrol craft," Gibbs stated, "that way the maintenance staff, both the Ritualista and on the airship crew aren't being worked to the bone."

"Starting out in Ritual Plate did make me far more accepting of the maintenance needs of my tank," Cornelia admitted. "But you have your own bunks at least, right?"

Balbina laughed, "Kinda, but privacy isn't a thing on any airship, there's no pretending when it's just a couple dozen of you on only a couple decks. You know everyone, and you know everything they're into."

"Still more space than inside my tank," Cornelia countered.

The recon pilot flicked her tail. "I dunno. I heard you girls have fold-down bunking in the back of the hull where the secondary-gunner station is."

"Bunking is generous," the stoutly-built centurion assured, with the voice of cramped experience. "I've seen mortuary slabs that looked more comfortable."

"Balbina, what are your plans after the Scouting Branch?" I asked, finishing off my first kabob.

It went without saying that the Scouting Branch wouldn't be the end of the line for the rookie pilot, and nobody would expect her to stay long. The normal career path for a BlackSkyvian RP pilot was to start out in a low risk role that would rack up plenty of flight hours. A posting on a humble Venture would guarantee plenty of opportunities to gain those hours as well as build familiarity with the Fleet's most numerous airship. The next smallest and next most common model, a Kolibri, was the other traditional stepping stone for Fleet Pilots and Legion Fliers. As House BlackSky had plenty of borders, sky, and colonies that needed patrolling, the appetite for Venture and Kolibri based Squadrons was bottomless, no matter how green the fliers in those Squadrons' ranks.

"I would like to go to a more Legion-supporting role. I've got a Gorgon Rig on my Polydora and have been training to get into an Occultia class," Balbina said with pride, her bright eyes seeking my approval.

I gave it to her with a nod. "Good. That is a very difficult role, but you were at the top of your training Squadron in regards to scrying operations and interpretation. Play your cards wisely, and I suspect you will fulfill your dream soon."

"The Occultia is rare but its sensor capabilities are critical to the Legions," Fabia agreed. "A very honorable post indeed."

"How have the patrols been?" Caenis asked, her tone casual.

"Well... Elena has been getting more active in patrolling their side of the border. According to the old salts, we're seeing more Zana bombers in the air now than in the last few years," Balbina's tail flicked.

"Those ancient, fuel-gulping beasts? Someone in the Elenese Strategic Air Group must have the Coordinator's ear to get her budget increased," Caenis mused. "What kind of missions are the bombers running?"

In a world, multiple worlds, where airpower ranged from titanic airships to the wearable Ritual Plate, heavy bombers were often caught in a bit of a limbo: requiring far larger airbases and support than tactical aircraft, let alone RP, while having far less endurance and range than an airship. Getting a bomber offworld was a complicated evolution involving at least partial disassembly unless the largest of cargo airships were used and, the destination world of course had to have infrastructure adequate to support the bomber. Combined with the considerable cost of research and development for the massive beasts, it meant that most Great House militaries didn't bother trying to burden themselves with maintaining any kind of significant strategic bomber force. Of the ones that did, House Elena topped the list.

I leaned forward with interest to indicate I too was curious. Outside, I could hear children playing in the garden.

"Nothing too provocative. Looks like standard patrols and training missions. No flying along the border or playing games on the North Atropia Sea. But they're getting more flight hours too," Balbina admitted.

"Maybe training up more pilots?" I ventured, giving Visha's hand a squeeze.

"And more of their ground crew and maintainers," Gibbs added. "Perhaps our rivals to the north are expanding the number of skilled airwomen across the board?"

"I know they're old and obvious targets to any Harmonia, but when it's just you and your wingwoman and a Venture scout that's slower than a flying freight-load of Torpedoes, it can be intimidating," Balbina admitted, cradling her glass in two hands.

In form, the Zana strategic bomber was nothing exotic. It was less expensive than an airship with an equivalent munitions capacity, and was faster and smaller, though at the cost of increased operational fragility and a reduced range of mission profiles. House Elena mitigated the decreased endurance and flexibility by basing their bombers near or in their own territory. The concept was to have the airstrips a bit more defensible while still allowing the bombers to be used to strike targets on Diyu. Given its age, the Zana was vulnerable unless escorted, but even with this resource cost, the bomber still freed up Elena's smaller airship fleet for use in offworld and other high endurance roles.

But the Zana was not Elena's only heavy bomber.

"What about the Perchta?" I inquired. If the Zana were the bomber version of the Perun RP, a cheaper, aging, but still capable platform for heavy strike, then the Perchta bomber was akin to the Volos RP, a highly-veiled, very expensive platform.

Balbina frowned. "Only saw a few of those. More of them recently, but obviously they don't like to get near where a sensor platform can try to track them. If the rumors about their veiling are true, though, some might have gotten uncomfortably close."

We nodded. Much like the Volos, Elena tried to keep the Perchta away from prying eyes. Though "close" was a decidedly relative word to apply to the situation, given the large cruise missiles the chiropteran Perchta could carry in its belly.

"Flying more of both their old birds and the new pampered hangar-queens?" VioletBlood asked leaning on me and stretching out a bit to get comfortable. "The mask-lovers are really getting aggressive."

"It's not an aggressive posture exactly. There's more bombers up there, but more... training for a future fight," Balbina pondered.

My tail curled as I pondered what Elena could be preparing for. All across the Dimensional Spine, the resounding thump of the war drums seemed to grow louder by the day. My two former cadets were far from the only quietly anxious Legionaries observing the mounting tensions. I was certain that everyone assigned to a border post would have similar stories, quietly shared with friendly company in unofficial meetings like our own. And then, there was the whole matter of Harp's World and that damnable mirror.

On the other wing, there were those "peace talks" out on Dunwitch. For whatever those were worth.

The servers flitted busily in and out of the room. They were all quite diligent and attentive in their efforts to keep everyone refreshed, and were thankfully very unobtrusive, save for one aspect: their tails were rather distracting.

I shook my head. At least the noise level outside our private patio had eased as some parents had gotten their young ones under control.

"It's getting a bit crowded in here," VioletBlood pointed out, fanning herself dramatically as if she were about to swelter and faint. "Maybe we should open the drapes and merge with the Ritualistas' patio?"

"We can do that," Miss SunShower bowed her head, ears perky, her three fluffy tails wagging. "What do you think, Mistress?"

"I was led to believe you and the other staff had the day off," I stated, taking count of the number of kitsune busy at work on the patio.

"We were going to see the sights and have dinner, Ma'am. And you did say this was a good establishment. Besides, we were going to meet up anyway before the play tonight," Reinhild said, and gave a fittingly vulpine smile.

"Ah."

"It's efficient," VioletBlood nodded approvingly. "They get to have a nice meal, and we get some attentive service."

Draining my glass, I stared at my fiancee. "They can't serve us and eat."

Both my Vs and... everyone else on the patio gave me incredulous looks. From noble to commoner, from Ace Imperial Heroine to greenhorn tanker they all acted as if I had said something foolish. Gibbs shook her head and muttered something I chose not to hear.

"My dear Countess." VioletBlood patted my hand.

I steamed under the sunlamp of her condescending smile. "It would be disorderly!"

"Disorderly, she says," VioletBlood repeated, amused exasperation alight in her gaze.

I mutely grappled with the best words to voice my protests, but found to my frustration that wrestling my own tongue was like wrestling with deep-born kraken.

"Oh, let them open up the next patio over; it'll give them more room. Besides, our Ritualista found some very fine dates for tonight," Visha assured me. "It would be a shame to leave them out."

Reinhild bowed her head. "The kits have been playing out in the garden but they will need to sit down and have some food soon, Mistress."

"Fine, fine, make a party of it," I huffed, honestly feeling as if my input was more for appearance's sake than anything else. However, as someone with plenty of experience as an imperial officer, I knew the importance of making a proper appearance as well as what a losing battle looked like.

Thus, as the kitsune opened up the patio, I squared up my shoulders, straightened my uniform top, and leaned back on the supple leather. Flanked by my betrothed and my mistress, it was easy to play the part of a confident noble officer. I was a Mistress of the Air, doted upon by loyal servants whilst lounging in a salon surrounded by her protégées, peers, servants, subordinates, and guests.

From across the patio, Cornelia and Flavia's eyes met. The tanker's tail curled as she stiffly nodded to my Ritualista. Whispering something in her date's ear, Flavia downed her wine glass but, after a moment's hesitation, waved the shorter centurion over. I had heard rumors that Cornelia, before she transferred out, had played cards with some of my subordinates, at least until Visha stepped in.

Now that we had two patio alcoves opened up, there was more space for the kitsune to circulate. The Ritualista, having a surprisingly relaxed meal, looked up and raised their cups to us. Their mirth was sincere, especially when platters of food and bottles were brought in.

"I know I'm a demanding commander," I said, pitching my voice to carry on the patio. "Perhaps I overcompensate for my age, maybe I'm too hard, no? I'm sure any of you could ask the two other Squadron commanders here, and they would give you a... categorical answer."

This drew some chuckles.

"But," I continued, "I know that if my girls have good food, then my girls are happy. I know that cheerful attitudes and high morale are critical for success, that such memories carry the spirit through long hours crammed into a suit or spent keeping said suits running. High morale is equally important in a tank or even in a trench. Sadly, I can't promise to always keep you fed on the finest of vittles when the Imperatrix calls upon us."

Recalling my etiquette lessons, I held out my glass and Reinhild most obligingly filled it to the brim. "But when we're on leave, that is a promise I can make," I saluted with the glass with a polite cheer. "To your health, ladies! Eat to your hearts' content!"

To my pleasure, I saw the crowd relax after my toast and begin to mingle, with people wandering between both patios.

Taking a sip, I raised an eyebrow and compared the color of the drink in my glass with one across from me. "This is the same cider that Caenis is drinking."

"Oh, live a little," VioletBlood wrapped her tail around my waist, a bit higher up than Visha's tail. "Take some of your own advice, Tauria."

"We have plenty of time tomorrow," Visha assured.

I leaned back, snagged a bite from my fish, and took a thoughtful drink. My Vs were right, I could relax here. Besides, this was supposed to be a vacation.

+++++

I looked out the window of our sleeper car suite. Over the past day, the whispering chatter of the rails had worn itself a groove in my waking mind, sinking down into the firmament until I could scarcely even notice it as background noise.

If only all auditory annoyances were so easily ignored.

We were rounding the eastern edge of the Lesser Romwell Alps now, still plodding along the iron-railed path. Our route east out of Silvana roughly hugged the foot of the Alps, so that path ran under the conifers marching up the slope of these, the final worn-down remnants of a mountain chain that marched nearly two thousand miles across the breadth of House BlackSky.

The sky had grown grey with increasing cloud cover. As the light faded, I put my book down on the little table bolted under the window between two sets of luxurious leather seats; no sense in straining my eyes.

Opposite the windows, VioletBlood was stretched luxuriantly out across the bed. Curlers in her hair, she had a lacquered fan out and was sprawled with an utter lack of ladylike grace, massively enjoying having a berth to herself.

It was not that she was unused to spending time in close confines with myself and Visha. Compared to some of our past deployments, the day we had spent in one of the Bovitar Silvana Condanium Line's sleeper cars had been nothing short of luxurious. Still, my betrothed enjoyed being able to stretch out freely, unconstrained by the worry that a questing wingtip might find an eye.

And space to stretch out like that was a relatively rare treat aboard a train. Even in the dining car, such displays were seen as uncouth.

"Oh drat, feels like snow," she languidly pouted as she drew herself up from splayed to a more... artistic pose, perhaps sensing my attention. Her tail flicked in annoyance, and one of the curlers seemingly unwound from her crimson tresses.

I eyed the landscape rushing past. "Perhaps. What makes you say that?"

"My Zephyr are getting giddy," she grumped before flicking the fan and, with a gust of wind, two more curlers obligingly twisted and plopped onto a small pile.

"Maybe it's because they know we're almost at Bovitar?" I replied eying, the book I had been reading. It was a guide on the northern half of Eastern Province. It even had a chapter on Larium County.

Pausing halfway done with her hair care, VioletBlood smirked at the small pile of books. I had gotten bored with JanGaurd's Fighting Airships 433AR and had started reading something more relevant to my county. "You are such a bookworm."

There was a rumbling sound as a westbound train on the parallel track went past and blocked the view of the landscape. I studied the hopper wagons full of grain, tank cars containing all sorts of chemicals, anonymous boxcars, and flatbeds with lashed-down crates, vehicles, and industrial equipment.

"Ah, some variety. It's not another train with nothing but lumber or cattle cars," VioletBlood muttered.

"Livestock is a vital industry, particularly for our very literal neck of the woods," I replied as the bright caboose at the end of the freight train went past. "I for one find it hard to believe that you of all demons would object to the prompt delivery of beef on the hoof to the capital."

"I can't believe all this heads to the capital," VioletBlood angled her head to watch the end of the train.

I waggled my hand. " Hmm… I doubt it's heading to Silvana directly, even if it is the major regional industrial hub. My guess is that particular train is likely headed to Solva just a ways west, or perhaps more likely, to Celeia in the south. That is big trade city, and it straddles the gap between the Greater and Lesser Romwell Alps."

VioletBlood rolled her eyes. "Obviously. I mean, unless for some truly soft horned reason you wanted to waste your time and money going through Andromachin and Luxon territory to cut around it, hitting Celeia is all but inevitable. Not like there's many other major rail and river nodes this side of Vyhraj mountains. How else is one supposed to get from Lacus Superum to the Gaurida Sea in affordable elegance?"

I raised an eyebrow. The chatter of the rails grew as we hit a rougher section of tracks, and I could just hear the ghostly sound of someone practicing a harmonica down the car.

VioletBlood stretched her back before reaching out and picking up the guide book. "I can read a map, my Countess, and, I can read a railway timetable," she purred, inspecting the book before smirking. "My, my, a rather... elementary reference on my piece of the Province."

"I've had Larium County for three years and I've hardly been there," I defended. "There's no connection for me, I feel like an absentee landlady."

Tossing the book onto the bed beside her, she smiled when my eyes followed it. "I sympathize. I've spent a lot of time away from my barony." Her tail flicked. "But... those are my family's ancestral lands."

Sensing her mood lower, I decided to try to cheer her up. "Will you be meeting your cousin?"

"That's the plan," VioletBlood brightened. "I can't wait to show you off to LavenderFang."

"Another day of being arm candy?" I laughed. "Not that I minded last night, we did make for a very dashing group in the dining car yesterday." And the meal had been a very nice sendoff for Fabia before she parted ways with us to take a Great Southern line all the way down to Danam.

"No, no, no. That wasn't you being arm candy." VioletBlood wagged a finger as she rolled up and gave me a toothy grin. "Last night, I was your arm candy."

I leaned back in my chair. Idly, I noticed that whoever was practicing that damn instrument in the background had finally stopped. "And Visha?"

"An Imperial Heroine who needs a noble betrothed and a mistress? My, how virile. We put on quite the show in the dining car, almost as good as the opera the night before that." She leaned over put her hand on my knee. "Besides, I want you to show me off, and not just to high society. There's one high ranking noble in particular..."

Tail flicking, I looked down. I knew LoveBlood wanted to prove herself in the eyes of my Duchess. "It's not all a show."

"I know. I respect your piety and I..." VioletBlood's prideful expression slipped. "I... we're still a bit young to get married."

I bit down on my first response about how the Church was not quite that restrictive, which allowed me to focus on what she said before that. "I'm not that pious."

"It's just the two of us," VioletBlood said, a touch sharpish.

"I'm serious." I held up a placating hand. I tried to keep in my annoyance, particularly as that damn music had returned. "I know what people with real faith are like, and I don't have it."

"Please, if DarkStar walked through that door, which of us would accept her without question and offer her our sword?" VioletBlood asked with a snort.

"I'd have more than a few questions." I shot back.

LoveBlood rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't tell me, you have a whole gospel filled with annotations just waiting for her clarifications?"

I opted not to answer that. Instead, I let the passing view outside the window snag my attention, turning my eyes to look at the mountains. All the deciduous trees were already stripped of all leaves, and the further the forests got from the fir trees the more it looked like winter in anticipation. Soon, snow would be coming.

A quiet sigh by my side tugged at my focus, "You're not some fanatic, Tauria. Besides, you didn't deny that she will return."

"I... believe the odds are slim that she'll come back in my lifetime," I stated., hedging as best as I could.

The redhead sat up.

"That's not your heart talking. That's your mind. That's you measuring the millennia since DarkStar died and figuring out the probability that this is when she'll return."

"There's too many unknowns," I admitted unhappily. It vexed me to admit as much.

"You are a very rational commander. You know 'the book'; you've helped write the latest version of 'the book'. You can teach 'the book' extremely well. But you train us to develop our instincts to build that gut feeling to know when 'the book' isn't enough," VioletBlood pressed, her green eyes gleaming. "When you don't have all the information and have to make a decision right now."

"That's not quite how I'd put it. I only helped Quirinus propose a few edits to some proposed revisions," I cautioned, feeling like I was trying to hold back a landslide. "But, fine, I understand your thought. How does it apply to DarkStar, though? Does it apply to DarkStar?"

"Why not?" VioletBlood shrugged. "Besides, you already made one key assumption, that DarkStar will return to us. Is that a gut feeling? Faith?"

"I suppose," I sighed, feeling like I had just lost some verbal game of chess I'd blundered right into without any real intention to play. There was a lesson here about trying to deal with nobles.

"It's like with the Islander Girl," VioletBlood said, her voice quiet.

I frowned. Those two seemed to be getting along, but LoveBlood could be very prideful. "Pardon?"

"You went from corresponding with her in some Journal on Air Combat to taking her into your Flight. You kicked out Octavia to make room for the Islander Girl! And she has been with us since Vualia!" She pulled her knees up and leaned over on them. "You knew there was more to Centurion Shadow."

"I..." I exhaled. I hated keeping secrets from her, from any of the people I cared about. "I have an eye for talent."

"Obviously; you picked me. Not to mention the rest of the Squadron," VioletBlood's pride returned.

"Yes, I did pick all of you," I said with more confidence.

Straightening herself up, VioletBlood put on a thoughtful expression. "It's a useful ability."

I tilted my head. "You have an idea."

"Depending on your seneschal... Alexi Frugi. I believe her name is?"

"That's her."

VioletBlood nodded. "Yes, depending on Frugi's actions and the condition of your manor and its grounds, you may need to hire more staff. Or replace some. Or some other emergency."

I kept my composure. Frugi may be mousy and demure, but she was competent and, in a return of the same nepotism that merited a well-connected greenhorn a tank, had come recommended by my eldest sister. "Don't borrow trouble, LoveBlood. We'll find out if things have gone bad."

VioletBlood gave me a cynical look before shrugging. "We'll see soon enough. It's not like our arrival will be a surprise."

Both of us tilted our heads as a familiar presence tickled our horns. "Do come in, Islander Girl," VioletBlood announced just as Visha knocked.

The door slid open, and Visha stepped in. Her tail happily swished as she bowed her horns to VioletBlood before closing the door and taking the seat opposite mine. Her bag, once small enough to sit reasonably on her lap, was plopped on the floor with a definitive thud.

"Looks like you had a profitable time," VioletBlood noted.

"It was entertaining," the brunette allowed.

I studied her with a frown. Visha knew most of my secrets, but she did not know all of them. Did she have... suspicions? She had first hand experience with the advantages of being a reincarnate. My tail stilled with the concern that was always slithering in the back of my mind.

All Visha had to do was compare any suspicions Lieutenant Serebryakov had about Tanya von Degurechaff's uncanny wisdom and experience with the uncanny wisdom and experience Centurion Shadow possessed.

"I'm glad you had a good time," I said, trying to compartmentalize my concerns

For a bare moment, Visha's eyes were unreadable. After what seemed like an agonizing silent interrogation, her warm smile blossomed. "We should probably get ready and pack up the cabin," she said, looking out the window. Flurries were starting to hit the glass, where they melted and streaked down.

I followed her gaze. We had left the Lesser Romwells behind us and were now rolling down through flat terrain that had increasing numbers of fields, pastures, and hamlets.

"We'll be in Bovitar soon enough," I agreed before wincing as the eerie mournful noises returned to scratch at just the edge of my hearing and my sanity. "That blasted harmonica!"

My Vs exchanged a look. I was a bit jealous that they could so easily ignore the noise masquerading as music. LoveBlood sympathized with me, but I could tell she was playing it up. "It really is rude that someone keeps playing at all hours. Shall I repeat my displeasure to a porter?" VioletBlood asked, her voice oddly sincere.

"I did just see a steward on my way back, and she swore it was someone one car down who has since been quieted. The poor dear swore up and down that Conductor IronDove runs a tight and proper train," Visha added.

After a moment, the talentless novice ceased her practice, and the cabin was silent save for the chattering of the rails. "Don't bother," I huffed, annoyed, but not to the point of truly making a scene about it, "we're almost at our station. But we really should pack."

"Maybe we can have the maids do it?" VioletBlood airily suggested.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

VioletBlood gave a tiny sigh. "I'm saying you're a bit... frazzled. And if Reinhild helps me pack up our things the Islander Girl can take you to the club car to get something to eat. Unless… maybe organizing your luggage will help relax you?"

"I'm fine," I assured her and got up to start packing. Thankfully, I just brought an overnight bag into the cabin; the rest of my luggage was in the baggage car.

The train began to slow a bit as it turned in a southeast direction. The terrain flattened out as the tracks descended. Orchards, pastures, and towns became commonplace.

Closing her oxblood leather weekend bag, VioletBlood wistfully glanced out the window and said. "It is good to be back."

Bovitar lacked the tiers of indulgent and ancient architecture and greenery of Silvana, the raw industry and bold, exotic Art Deco of Vordurium, or even the frontier gumption of Victrix. However, Bovitar had a clean, sleek charm of Art Moderne buildings: handsome structures without being ostentatious or expensive.

"It is a pretty city," Visha agreed, buttoning her own bag shut. More rails joined with our track. A few ran parallel to ours, but most switched onto our track. The steady slope became noticeable as the train spent its final miles to descend level with the lower city.

A major trade city, Bovitar straddled the Lethe River. While the major military base of Castra Bovitar and the airfield were on the upper elevations overlooking the river, the central train station and its freight yards were down in the valley, close to the port facilities, river docks, and depots.

Shortly after feeling a stranger approach, there was another knock on the door. "Final stop, Bovitar. Final stop, Bovitar. Be ready to disembark," the conductor said in a sing-song voice before she went to the next cabin to repeat the ritual.

"Thank you!" Visha replied through the door.

"Check to make sure everything's packed up," I said, putting my bag by the door next to VioletBlood's leather and brass-trimmed confection and Visha's canvas rucksack.

The train slowed as it ran over the girder-framed span of a bridge that arched over the Lethe. Disturbed by our passage, a small flock of blackbirds cawed and took to the wing. We all paused to look down at the wide waterway filled with laden barges and the occasional fishing vessel trawling about in the light snow.

Not far past the bridge was the station, tucked away in the expected snarl of tracks crisscrossing about with various sidings, lines of freight being shunted about, and other passenger trains.

Preparing to disembark, I opened the door to our cabin and, to my mild surprise, found Reinhild SunShower and two more maids waiting in the corridor. I couldn't help the little sigh that escaped when I saw that, unlike our previous brief train ride two days ago, my servants were back in full maid regalia.

My rank, it seemed, had rediscovered me.

"Mistress, may we take your bags?" the kitsune asked, her three tails swishing.

"Well..." I hesitated before VioletBlood elbowed me in the side and Visha seized my bag from my unresisting hand and handed it to the head maid, neatly resolving the brief social snarl.

I held my tongue. Trying to press the issue would only make things worse. The light from the empty cabin's window dimmed as the train slowed and passed beneath the arching iron and glass overall roof that enclosed the passenger platforms.

Reinhild smiled. Her promptness sprung from experience. Any Legionary, or Auxilia, knew there were two ways to leave a troop-train: either be the first off and avoid the queuing, pushing, and struggling in close confines, or wait and be among the last ones off, trapped with the lost bags and stray hats.

The train stopped, and railway porters overdressed in their ridiculously formal uniforms opened the doors. Stepping off the train and onto the paved platform with its generous skylights, I pointedly strode forward and off to the side, away from the bustle sure to swamp the rapidly emptying car. Thankfully, the air was still reasonably warm in the vast echoing space, free of any errant drifting snowflakes.

Then, once I was sure I was no longer in the way, I turned around. I saw that the rest of my... party had also endeavored to exit as early as possible. Our heavier pieces of luggage were being unloaded and placed onto dollies. The various footlockers and seabags were far too bulky to move around without wheels, not to mention the Ritual Plate caskets and the collection of blocky crates.

Gibbs must have been in the baggage car supervising the unloading as she and the other Ritualista were already out on the platform inspecting the seals, locks, and the status of the crates and RP caskets. Given her sour expression was at its standard level of irritation and I did not feel any specific anger radiating from her, I presumed that nothing had been tampered with

I stopped to look at the collection of subordinates, servants, dependents, and growing baggage train and wondered when I became the kind of person who traveled with such an entourage.

Even among the bustle of embarking and disembarking travelers, we stood out as new arrivals. Bovitar was no Silvana, so there was a bit less high fashion. Unlike the gaudy styles of the capital, which encompassed a bracing range from decadent gowns akin to ruffled airships, complete with internal structural frames to sleek evening wear with corsetry and straps that were as equally difficult to move in, but for the opposite reasons, things were more understated here. So much so that myself and my entourage, especially VioletBlood stood out. Not the least because few people around here wore traveling silk dresses with matching full-fur coats and had a gaggle of uniformed maids.

To say nothing of garments that had to be painted on, both figuratively and all too literally, or outfits that were more jewelry and ornament than cloth. Even in Silvana, most folks wore clothes with some concession to reality. Only the nobility, those with means, actresses, or dedicated companions could dress up in such excessive pageantry on the regular.

As "the gateway to the east", Bovitar was a major trade hub to Andromache, RedStorm, Luxon, and all points beyond. That placement imbued the civic personality with more of an eye to brisk trade, punctuality, and only a bit of gimlet suspicion for foreigners who could, of course, be here on matters of business. All together, the folk of Eastern Province tended to be a bit more practical than people hailing from the core capital-adjacent provinces.

I eyed the amount of people in fur-trimmed winter coats, smart suits with bodices under thin-lapelled jackets with matching pencil skirts, hosiery, heels, and prim hats perched between horns. I found myself envying the comparative simplicity of their outfits.

But, dress however they might, all the other travelers seemed normal, at least enough for our standards. My tail flicked with a slight anxiety. At least Reinhild had packed enough clothes for the various upcoming events. Yes, everything was fine. Now, I had to...

"Breathe, Countess." VioletBlood squeezed my hand, the tips of her talons gently pressing into my palm.

"But we need to catch our connecting train, and go north up to Switchbend, and from there hire transport to County Larium," I stated, my voice being calm and even, however, I nervously looked up at the skylights above which were starting to get spattered with melted snowfall.

The Bovitar central station was larger than the stops since leaving the capital, but it was more functional than the others. "If the weather turns, we might not be able to get enough teamsters willing to make the trip and we'll have to spend the night," I added, my mouth running away with concerns and contingencies.

"Switchbend has perfectly lovely hotel," VioletBlood calmly stated as her grip softened. "The whole town is rather nice. Your mother even has a hunting lodge out by those parts, if I remember her latest letter to me."

"You've thought of everything, LoveBlood," Visha cheered.

My betrothed puffed up with blatant pride at the horn-stroking. "I do try. How could I not be a good hostess and guide to my part of Eastern Province?"

"Thank you for your help," I said, trying to feel out my anxiety. It was a familiar sensation, one that reminded me of standing before a much taller figure who I was loath to disappoint and wanted to...

My horns buzzed. Tail going straight, I looked across the busy concourse.

Another noblewoman and her entourage were approaching.

VioletBlood's green eyes sparkled as she lifted the hand she held mine in and gave a subtle wave of recognition. "Now, Islander Girl, I trust you can be your most charming self? We want to make a good impression with Duchess SilverFlight and assure her that she was right to grant permission for our claims on her daughter."

"Of course Baroness," Visha sweetly said as she bobbed her horns.

I frowned between my Vs. "What did you do?"

"I just asked for some local help in making travel arrangements," VioletBlood assured with a sharp smile.

The crowd parted as the entourage approached. As the distance closed, my own subordinate straightened up with the Ritualista standing to one side in a row while the maids made sure the kits were quieted down before taking their own positions.

A quartet of cat-eared maids orbited around their mistress in a revolving constellation far less casually set up than their initial formation would seem. In lace ruffles and fripperies, the two slender and delicate-looking ones carried large lavender hat boxes secured with quick-release snaps. Iridescent shimmering patterns were sewn into their little gloves with silver thread. Their skirts were gathered at waist-height, and an entire myriad of implements could be lurking within that abundance of silken folds. Beneath bouncing curls, their expressions were playful, as long as one did not linger on their hungry eyes.

The other feline pair were far larger, with muscles clearly visible through their uniforms. Those uniforms were of a more practical cut and consisted of reinforced bodysuits, with frilled skirting and jackets added almost as afterthoughts. Forgoing the maid caps of their more domesticated partners, they wore their hair in long, wild manes, full of body and personality, that tumbled down their backs. These latter two had large parasols folded at their shoulders and had elegantly tooled leather shoulder holsters that were not so much concealed as complimented by the cut of their jackets.

All four had slitted eyes that studied everything with a lazy, predatory confidence matched by their flicking tails.

In a dark purple side-slit evening dress with silver accents and gathered shoulders, Volantes Tribune, Rorarii, Duchess SilverFlight approached. My adoptive mother was a tall woman with silver-grey skin and cobalt blue hair. Her wings were broad, her tail long, and every inch of her dripped in noble bearing.

My tail swished as her eyes fell upon me and my Vs. She smiled.

Two of my sisters stood in her shadow.

I immediately recognized the leanly, stark form of Volantes Prefect Centurion, Rorarii, Lady Castellan ArgentShroud, standing nearest our mother. Taking after my Duchess, the main difference my sister had from our mother were her hooves and that her tail bore a fur trim. The heir apparent looked slightly amused at the tableau before her. I counted myself lucky that none of her daughters were here; the younger ones were quite the handful.

Opposite her, on our mother's left shoulder, and standing almost literally in Duchess SilverFlight's shadow was Doctrix Countess RedWing. A pale russet, a golden ribbon perfectly matched to her eyes pulled her hair back. She decadently filled a flowing stola of pale green silk with silver thread to her best advantage. Over the pleated robe hung a dark cloak with stark ivory trim. The fingers of one slim hand curved around an ashwood staff with an obsidian orb and layered gold inlays.

More academically minded than the rest of our family, RedWing held a research fellowship in the Applied Scrying Department in the Imperial University of Belum. Naturally, a pair of intricate runes were tattooed on her cheeks. She had consulted for both MuArc Amalgamated and Inter-House Mercantile Aviation, but last I heard, she was currently working with Imperial Blimp and Freight's Tactical Air Division on some entirely mundane and routine audits of calibration tests. Granted they were very involved tests which required such an august personage to spend so much time at an IBF laboratory. With all her research work, my sister was almost as absent from her county as I was.

Despite being three times my age, Doctrix RedWing was still one of the Duchess's younger daughters. Her almost pinkish smile quickly grew larger when she saw the Ritualista, Polyxo, and their Gorgon Rigs that I had brought.

Behind them all was the slim, quiet form of Miss Alexi Frugi, Seneschal of County Larium. With short black hair and a neat grey suit whose green bodice nicely complimented her midnight blue skin, she looked every part the demure administrator. Carrying a top-clasped leather case, her amber eyes lit upon me and she gave a slight bow.

I returned the gesture and looked past the seneschal to see that three more people had been loosely pulled along under the tug of my Mother's social gravity if not quite pulled fully into her orbit. They were... somewhat perturbing.

Looking at my mother's maids, VioletBlood sent me a quite smug emotional pulse. As if to say that her birthday gift of a servant was "the best thing ever!" I also had no doubt who had suggested to Reinhild the uniforms for the rest of the trip.

"Daughter, it is good to put eyes upon you again," Duchess SilverFlight declared as she swept me up in her arms, her wings folding over my own.

Her pride of bodyguard handmaidens dutifully moved around to envelop the three of us in their protective domain. The four servants eyed the skulk of kitsune warily; the smaller of the felines seemed spirited by their stances and swishing tails, while the larger two seeing potential challenges were more... frisky.

"Thank you. It was an... eventful mission," I admitted, a purr growing between us as I put my head on her shoulder.

My mother held me for a moment, her tail helping pull me closer before her wings opened and she let me go. The hugs my big sisters gave me and Mother gave my Vs were a bit less intense but were no less heartfelt.

The Duchess looked us over. A frown flickered across her face. "Perhaps you can catch me up on your travels tonight? At least about the things you can talk about."

"Tonight?" I asked, the twice-bloodied officer of war trying to scrape together what remained of my professional composure even as the rest of me couldn't decide between vibrating in place from excitement or trying to grab another hug.

"Someone reminded me there is a charming restaurant by a certain hotel in Switchbend," Mother said, her eyes falling implacably on VioletBlood.

My betrothed bowed her horns. "Yes, Your Grace. Ward's Hardware and Vittles specializes in freshly caught local game and fish."

One of the women in the trio waiting by the side, and, I noticed, rejoicing in a rather fancy hat, gave a little smile at the name.

"You've been talking?" I asked my mother and my betrothed, mildly horrified.

"Since I knew you would be too hesitant to ask about how to move so many back to your estate, I took the liberty of asking someone who would know how to do so." VioletBlood gave me a toothy smile that covered up the diffident humility she was truly feeling. "You don't have to do everything yourself all the time, my Countess."

"Hmmm...I suppose, you've thought of everything then," I bowed my horns to my Vs. It was nice that they were trying to make this vacation easier for me. It helped to think of it in those terms and not that they were taking charge of things for my own good.

"Everything?" Mother chuckled as her eyes flicked up.

I looked up to the skylights and saw more snow blowing about. It would be quite impossible to see any protective Ritual Plate through that swirling mess. Unless in a monumental clusterfuck, the pilots behind the controls managed to stop , cut veiling, and all but crash directly into the station for good measure.

Of course, Mother's mercenaries were far too professional to make all those mistakes. And if she was willing to call in air support then that would explain why Mother was also going about with only her close protection detail in sight.

Lowering my gaze, I saw that Reinhild was quietly chatting with one of the petite feline maids. Good. "Is there reason for concern?" I asked my mother.

Duchess SilverFlight waved my worry off. "Oh, just business, Tauria. That is why I was happy to run into your seneschal."

My sisters exchanged a very subdued set of looks. "Perhaps more introductions are due?" ArgentShroud ventured.

"Quite so!" The Duchess spun around and bowed to the trio standing by but not with the group. "I do apologize, Ladies. I was catching up with my youngest."

"No apologies necessary. Family is important, especially when a daughter continues the... family business, yes?" the blonde of the group purred, her deep voice oddly-inflected. Her short hair was two-toned, with platinum streaks over a brassy bold color. Her smile was sharp with neat, pointed teeth, and her eyes were flat red pinpoints. She had tall horns that arced back and a long tail that slithered behind her.

"And Ward's can dress a catch and cook it with reasonable skill," the pale-haired woman in the hat drawled before putting her case on the ground, doffing the head covering, and bowing to us. Her hat was matte-black and wide brimmed, complete with a ribboned hat band holding a small bouquet of white roses in place. Her white hair was cut in a tousled pageboy. Looking a bit of a mix of the outdoorsy with the fashionista, she wore a dress whose gathered skirting gleamed with gold trim, a cloth bodice over a ruffled top with gathered sleeves, an oilskin coat cut for winter working, and leather boots that, despite their somewhat pointed toebox, were at least sensible enough to walk beyond a paved path.

"Your Grace, Ma'ams. If I may make introductions?" the demoness asked, picking up her long leather rifle case. Her tail had stilled with nerves, and her pale wings were folded close to her back.

The Duchess included her head. "You may."

"I am Mistress RainsFord Songstress, I am a... guide for the Forestry and Mines Guild."

"Miss Songstress is one of the best hunters east of the Vyhraj Mountains," ArgentShroud provided.

"You are too kind, I'm perhaps the best in Eastern Province," RainsFord said in a loose, easy Midlands accent.

"We were looking to do some hunting," VioletBlood noted.

"Charmed," I bowed my horns to the hunter.

"I'm also new to the province. What brings you here?" Visha asked, her tone all innocent. It was only by spending two lifetimes with her that I knew that there was more to her probing question. Centurion Shadow must have felt there was something untoward with the hunter.

"Oh, same as the rest of us, supporting the railroad," RainsFord said, and glanced at her two... companions? No, there was no trust between these three women. Business partners at best, and probably only drawn together by circumstance at that.

"It is important work," the blonde huskily noted, an almost feverish gleam in her crimson eyes. Even to someone who appreciated logistics as much as did, she seemed very... passionate about the railroad. "We are making great progress."

"And you?" I asked, turning my attention to the still nameless demoness. "You are?"

"Oh, I'm with the railroad," the blonde waved off my question, a greasy smile crossing her thin lips. She had a bold crimson jacket over a charcoal bustier and matching red skirt with pinstripes. Her sling-back heels were a bright glossy red that reflected the station's lights. "I wouldn't dare to interrupt a family reunion. I've left a calling card with Miss Frugi. Perhaps you can arrange a meeting, at your convenience."

My Seneschal gave me a meek nod.

"And what line are you from? Great Southern, BSC, a local line?" I asked, pressing against the non-answer.

"It is a kindly offer, but I'm not sure that is needed," Mother interrupted, giving the blonde railway representative a nod. "We will need to consult potential routes. There are many development options in the Duchy of Argenia."

"Of course, your Grace, we all must strive. Ever onward and ever upward," the lady from the railway agreed amiably, though her red eyes flicked hungrily.

"And this is Miss Crow," Mother said, introducing the final woman.

Miss Crow, an alias if I ever heard one, was a pale woman with long black hair falling over one yellow eye. She wore a black suit under a glossy coat that ran to her ankles. Her features were sharp and angular with an avian sensibility that seemed quite fitting, considering her sobriquet.

Unusually, despite feeling like a Diyu demon, she had taken a human guise or at least had hidden her wings, horns, and tail. The style was unusual, but she still had the same scent and emotional signature of one of us.

"Thank you, your Grace," Miss Crow bowed her head in the same gesture as if she had horns to present. "I am a private security agent and investigator, bonded and certified with several Provincial Guilds. I have experience working for various timber and orchard concerns and, of course, the railway." At the last, she nodded to the blonde lady from the railway.

So a private sector spook for the railways. I reasoned, gut already curdling.

"Charmed," I replied and studied the trio. "Mother, is this about what I think it is?"

Duchess SilverFlight nodded. "I do apologize for springing this on you so suddenly and adding weight to your holiday leave."

"Is this a rail extension?" VioletBlood asked.

"Quite so, my bloody baroness!" the railway representative crooned, speaking out of turn. "If your lady plays her cards right, she can get a line going right past her county seat. That would make travel far more convenient, yes?

"The geological surveys, aetheric assay, and land appraisals show some promising routes," Miss Frugi happily added.

"But the negotiations are in a delicate stage. The northern part of the province is ripe for development," ArgentShroud exhaled. "However..."

"Some malcontents disagree," Mother stated.

My tail stilled as I evaluated my Duchess meeting me here flush with mercenaries and a sketchy trio of... troubleshooters.

Duchess SilverFlight gave me a sober look. "I've charted a couple cars going up to Switchbend. We have plenty of time to get to platform six and load our baggage, plentiful as it all is."

Doctrix RedWing tittered at the unintentional joke.

Mother eyed her daughter before speaking in a measured and very prim tone. "And then we can talk... business on the way up. The railroad has some proposals that bear hearing out."

Mother must have read my skeptical mood. "And once we arrive, we can catch up for dinner, as a family." Her gaze swept over her daughters and my Vs.

I was too busy trying to contain my trepidation to be amused at LoveBlood's vain preening at her inclusion. "Of course, Mother. Shall we then?" I asked, gesturing down the concourse to our destination platform.

End Chapter 33

Nothing to worry about Tauria, nothing at all.

Thanks to Ahuva, DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, and ScarletFox for checking and editing this chapter and helping with this whole arc. And Special thanks Readhead and MetalDragon for helping with tone of some of the characters, especially the latter with LoveBlood, and once again to ScarletFox for helping with the chapter the title

Speaking of ScarletFox, check out the latest omakes on SB, especially Omake 20: Gibbs's Rules.

Chapter 34 is going well, with nearly 7k words written. I've also got a bunch of good art pieces to post.

Ever onward, ever upward!

Rymu · Jul 17, 2024

One's betrothed and one's mother talking to one another without your knowing is always something to fear.

Anyways, Tanya's little vacation sure is going to be exciting.

shmone else's problem · Jul 17, 2024

I really would like Tauria to, you know, talk to her two future wives. Or future wife and mistress, whichever. If it's not spoiling too much, is that something that will happen on this trip?

Gremlin Jack · Jul 17, 2024

Sunshine Temple said:
"I am Mistress RainsFord Songstress, I am a... guide for the Forestry and Mines Guild."

"Miss Songstress is one of the best hunters east of the Vyhraj Mountains," ArgentShroud provided.

A hunter named Rainsford? Why do I get the feeling someone read "The Most Dangerous Game"? Great short story, you have good taste. Or perhaps you watched the more recent movie?

Sunshine Temple · Jul 17, 2024

Rymu said:
One's betrothed and one's mother talking to one another without your knowing is always something to fear.

Anyways, Tanya's little vacation sure is going to be exciting.

Heheh. Say what you will about LoveBlood, but she does know how to network, and she does want to get in good with her Duchess mother-in-law.
And yeah the hope is to have this be an exiciting little arc.

shmone else's problem said:
I really would like Tauria to, you know, talk to her two future wives. Or future wife and mistress, whichever. If it's not spoiling too much, is that something that will happen on this trip?

The roots of it are there, as both are realizing that they have secrets (Tauria moreso) and at least LoveBlood deserves to know more. Especially as an event in ch34 will have Tauria realize her secret is not as secret as she thought it was.

Gremlin Jack said:
A hunter named Rainsford? Why do I get the feeling someone read "The Most Dangerous Game"? Great short story, you have good taste. Or perhaps you watched the more recent movie?

Mayyyybe. And yeah I thought that story had elements that mapped quite well to Diyu. Heck, Tauria herself recently "hunted" said game.
Congrats on picking up that reference! You're the first to get the RainsFord one All three of the "trobleshooters" introduced are distaff/Diyu counterparts of ones in other stories.

Thanks for commenting! It's really awesome when this stuff gets picked up on!

Rymu · Jul 17, 2024

Personally I'm of the opinion that Tanya doesn't really owe anyone information about being a reincarnate and tend to find such conversations super cringy.

shmone else's problem · Jul 17, 2024

Rymu said:
Personally I'm of the opinion that Tanya doesn't really owe anyone information about being a reincarnate and tend to find such conversations super cringy.

Consider, though, that Visha knows and there's this entire shared history the two have that LoveBlood has no access to at all, and indeed it seems like their connection just came out of nowhere. If you want to avoid the final "yes I was a reincarnate there too" conversation with Visha then I think that's defensible, but giving both of your partners access to that information instead of just one of them feels like it would be less imbalanced.

It would also have a fun lead in to the conversations about faith as well, knowing that it's very much a real thing from having experienced it yourself.

Sunshine Temple · Jul 18, 2024

Rymu said:
Personally I'm of the opinion that Tanya doesn't really owe anyone information about being a reincarnate and tend to find such conversations super cringy.

shmone else's problem said:
Consider, though, that Visha knows and there's this entire shared history the two have that LoveBlood has no access to at all, and indeed it seems like their connection just came out of nowhere. If you want to avoid the final "yes I was a reincarnate there too" conversation with Visha then I think that's defensible, but giving both of your partners access to that information instead of just one of them feels like it would be less imbalanced.

It would also have a fun lead in to the conversations about faith as well, knowing that it's very much a real thing from having experienced it yourself.

That is my thinking. There's also that VioletBlood's ego would take heart to all this.
VB: "Wait.... so you two with a whole life of experience as combat fliers resulted in being only *slightly* more skilled than I did over just a few years?"
And she may make a similar point that she got a relationship in without the same headstart.

And it would have VB also able to go "If you can reincarnate why not DarkStar!" which later when DarkStar does appear....

Sunshine Temple · Aug 2, 2024

I want to thank everyone for reading and supporting this story. Little Demon wouldn't have gotten as far as it has, or have been as good of a story without the work of readers, commentators, and editors such as: Ahuva, DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, and ScarletFox

Chapter 34 stands at 11k words and I'm finishing up the last scene, so hopefully that will be finished and with editors soon.

But first some art! Including Tauria's new Ritual Plate!

First from Lexi Kimble we have another piece showing the meeting between Countess Tauria and DarkStar, where Tauria insists she is not that pious.

'
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Next from Scitty Kitty we have the captains of the HFV Tarantula Hawk and the HVF DarkStar. Praefectus Commodores Valentina SharpTail(Left) and Countess SunsetFrost (Right).

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And from Laura Caroline we have this lovely piece of VioletBlood being her charming self.

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Also from Scitty Kitty we've got Octavia and Tauria. This is the first piece of Octavia, one of the normal, but skilled, Fliers back from Tauria's Flight Leader days. The Countess is proposing one of her entirely sensible plans and Octavia seems skeptical to say the least.

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Next to last from PlayerError 404 we have how VioletBlood's meeting with DarkStar will go. Namely in the squared circle with DarkStar doing a DFA from the top.

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And book ending from Lexi Kimble we have Taruia's mothers doting over her new Polyxo RP suit. Some of the visual upgrades include the headdress, ornamentation, and her repaired mask.

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RogueInquisitor · Aug 2, 2024

Sunshine Temple said:
First from Lexi Kimble we have another piece showing the meeting between Countess Tauria and DarkStar, where Tauria insists she is not that pious.

Did Tauria break out her habit upon hearing she'd be meeting DarkStar, or was she already dressed up for something else?

Sunshine Temple · Aug 3, 2024

RogueInquisitor said:
Did Tauria break out her habit upon hearing she'd be meeting DarkStar, or was she already dressed up for something else?

Good question! If she wasn't dressed up for that meeting, I bet people would make sure she was, to make a proper first impression.

ellf · Aug 29, 2024

(Realized I forgot to post this here)

Knight Sirens Chapter Two

The Mountain felt empty with everyone gone. Nightwing and Artemis were back in Gotham, Kid Flash was in KeyStone City, Zatanna was visiting friends of her father, and Red Arrow was dealing with some of the fallout that came from the reveal of his status. It made it hard for M'gann M'orzz to sleep without those comforting presences. Sure, Kaldur and Connor were still in the Mountain and that helped, but the absence of the rest of the team ached.

Kaldur was asleep in his room; she could feel it. He'd spent a good portion of the day training, and M'gann couldn't fault the Atlantean for taking his rest when he could get it. There wasn't any major mission that the Team was needed for at the moment, but she knew that could change at a moment's notice. M'gann almost hoped it would. After all, the Mountain would be full again, and the familiar minds would help her rest.

She wandered into the kitchen, careful not to make much noise, and she considered what was available. Perhaps some cookies? She might wake someone up if she overdid it, but at least they'd have some sweets to offset any upset they might get. Wait, was that correct phrasing? Well, perhaps not, but it wasn't like she was trying to be perfect. After all, cookies just needed the right amount of love, combined with the recipe, in order to sweeten the pot.

M'gann mixed her ingredients, accidentally dropping one of the metal bowls before she could catch it. Perhaps she was trying to alert someone to her presence, just so she wouldn't be alone. There were those with enhanced hearing in the Mountain at that time, after all.

M'gann felt Superboy stirring from his room, and a private smile came to her face. He'd enjoy the cookies, but even more, he'd enjoy helping. Or at least licking the bowl.

He made his way into the kitchen, dressed in shorts and a muscle shirt. "Guessing you couldn't sleep?"

M'gann couldn't help her eyes tracing his form, but she simply smiled at him, turning her private one toward him directly. "Not really. With everyone gone, it's quiet here."

"Yeah, it is," Connor said. "With Wally Artemis and Robin--excuse me, Nightwing, back at their homes… I can only hear you and Kaldur. I guess you've gotten used to all of us."

M'gann nodded. It wasn't that she hadn't been alone before, but the comfort of others, others who were friends and willing to not only put up with her, but welcomed her in their presence… she felt spoiled by it. Still, Superboy's presence was comforting. As it always was, these days. She smiled at him. "I'm sure I'll sleep eventually. I just need to tire myself out."

"How can I help?" Connor asked.

M'gann directed him, and soon the two fell into an easy silence, anticipating the needs as they went along. The recipe was easy enough, as M'gann had made it before, and soon enough, they had the cookies in the oven.

As they cleaned up their preparatory dishes, the Zeta-Tube console and reception area activated, lighting up in preparation for transit.

"Odd time of night," Connor said, frowning as he stepped toward the Zeta-Tube, placing himself between it and M'gann. He wasn't wrong. Usually, the League would call before directly coming over. However, it wasn't like exceptions hadn't happened.

"I don't think we're expecting anyone," M'gann said. She frowned, glancing toward Aqualad's room. "Do you think we should wake Kaldur?"

"Not yet," Connor said. "No messages came in. We'd have heard it, with us out here. We can buzz his communicator, but he doesn't need to "

M'gann nodded. The rings on the Zeta-Tube started spinning. Before she could respond to her friend, the console announced the arrivals. "Recognized, Nightwing, B-01. Guest User BlackFire, A-08. Guest User FrostShadow, A-09."

Connor and M'gann shared a look of confusion before looking toward the Zeta-Tube exit. Guests were not unheard of in the Mountain, but they usually were somewhat known. With the names given, clearly they were of the more masked variety and not civilians.

Nightwing was a familiar mind to M'gann. She gave him a brief telepathic greeting, a brush across his mind, before directing her attention to the people he brought with him. An initial brush indicated a lack of humanity. Not that they had ill intentions or anything, but they certainly didn't feel the way humans tended to. Nor, M'gann noted, did they feel Martian.

Whatever they were, she could feel a psychic resonance within them. A sort of telepathic and empathic link connected the two visitors, and as she reached out to them, they started to reach out back. The way they felt was almost familiar, familial, yet it was different enough that she pulled away after the first touch, out of an abundance of caution. Whatever they'd done, it had been instinctive.

Nightwing brought the pair out of the Zeta-Tube, a pair of winged humanoids, one with leathery wings, the other, smaller one with more feathered ones, and the two of them seemed somewhat disoriented at first.

Then the disorientation shifted to something worse. It was as if a dam had burst, and a psychic scream echoed throughout the Mountain so loud that M'gann almost didn't hear the vocal one that accompanied it. It pushed her down onto a knee, slamming into her own psychic defenses, weighing her down. The pain, the immense, overwhelming pain. It was theirs, she felt it pressing down upon her, everything they felt. The two had fallen, nearly catatonic themselves.

"M'gann!" Superboy was at her side in an instant. He wrapped an arm around her, and she felt more than saw him look up at Nightwing. "What's going on, Nightwing? What did you bring here?"

"I didn't know this would happen!" Nightwing said. "They were fine back in Gotham! Miss M! M'gann, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Hurts…" M'gann said, focusing on the familiar minds nearby, trying to push away the ocean she felt flowing through the guests. Her skin rippled near her forehead as she almost lost her form, but she adjusted it back. It wasn't her pain. She could block it out, now that she knew where it was coming from. She let out a sharp breath. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Connor. It's your guests that I'm worried about."

"I don't know what's going on," Nightwing said. "They didn't seem too worried about the Zeta-Tubes when they came, but… this…"

"What are they?" Superboy asked. "The feathered wings on that one… well, she's still got too many other features to be a Thanagarian…"

"They said they were from a place called Diyu," Nightwing said. "Demons or aliens, given that it's an alternate plane of existence or something. Batman believed them, and he asked if they could stay here."

M'gann turned her attention closer to the supposed demons. She carefully, without lowering much of her shields, touched the barest edges of the minds. Empathy. Both were highly empathic, but the smaller one was even more so than the larger, given her longer, curled horns. Add whatever happened with the Zeta-Tubes… "It's too much. Too much input. They can feel all of Happy Harbor… from here. Oh… wait. Huh. Hello, Megan! The solution's simple!"

"What?" Connor asked.

"The bioship! It can help block out the excess emotions and help them!" M'gann looked at her friends. "Connor, do you think you could carry them both there? Nightwing, check on Kaldur? I think he should be awake for some of this."

Nightwing nodded. "I really should be getting back to help out--" At M'gann's sharp look, he held up both hands in surrender. "Fine. I'll go see what he's up to."

"You know where the room is," Connor said, and he scooped up both girls with ease. A brief shudder went through him as he touched their skin with his own, maybe something to do with the G-Gnomes? He shouldered them and glanced at M'Gann. "They're not that heavy. Do you really think the bioship can help?"

M'gann nodded, floating alongside her friend as he carried the guests. "If it's not enough, some distance should help some more." She was worried a little about them. Their eyes were open, darting around, yet not focusing on either Connor or herself, and their tails thrashed back and forth while they were carried. It was lucky that Connor was harder to hurt than a normal human, but it helped that neither one was using their clawed hands to scratch at him, instead mostly being limp in his grasp. M'gann hadn't heard of any species like them, nor had she heard of Diyu at all. Demons, aliens… something that could be considered both?

Of course, given Mars's isolationist state before her uncle arrived on Earth, it was possible that someone had encountered Diyu before. She just hadn't heard about it. M'gann adjusted her mental shielding as they came upon the bioship's hangar. She couldn't help them if she fell back into the same state as the guests.

She gestured for the ship's boarding platform to lower, and she led Connor inside with the girls. "Place them down on the ground, anywhere that looks comfortable."

"Sure," Connor said, following her command. "So, you were saying something about excess emotion before?"

M'gann nodded, using the biomorphic properties of her ship to generate a safe area for the two alien girls to rest. Once no longer in Connor's arms, they thrashed about, their bodies trying to latch onto something. As their mouths opened, M'gann noted the sharp fangs in each of their mouths, matching with their horns and tails, somehow. She carefully moved, placing a hand on each of their heads, shivering at the touch. The raw emotion filtered through them was almost too much to handle, even with her shields. "Something happened during the Zeta-Tube transit. I suspect that normally, they have some sort of mental shields to block out emotion, sort of like my own, but both are very empathic and slightly telepathic. Something disrupted those shields when they went through, and it overwhelmed them."

Connor frowned. "And the ship can create its own shields to help them?"

"That's the theory," M'gann said. "It does have a sort of shielding, but whether it's enough… "

Connor nodded. "Do you need me here with you to help them?"

"Not exactly," she said. "They should hopefully come back to themselves soon enough, and Nightwing trusted them enough to take them with him here. But if you wanted to…"

Connor smiled, placing one of his hands on her own. "I could. NIghtwing and Kaldur can wait, and if they're hostile…"

M'gann met his smile with one of her own, and she patted his hand with her free one. She then turned her attention to the Diyu aliens. Diyuvians? Close enough. With the shielding up, they started to still. M'gann ran a hand through the powder-blue hair of the smaller one, careful not to dislodge the hairpins she had placed there.

Now that they were in the shielding of the bioship, it didn't seem as if either was telepathic the way Martians were, but there was a form of something akin to it there, in addition to the empathy. The girl's eyes remained unfocused, roving around the bioship. M'gann felt a little guilty over what she felt she needed to do, but if she was to help them, she needed to see what she was working with.

So she delved into the girl's mind.

The imagery of a great forest flickered before her, the vast reaches of space, and then M'gann's eyes locked tightly on the girl's. The blue pools, almost like ice crystals, held shadows within them, flitting about, never quite the same as they were there. The blue eyes overtook her entire vision as she delved further into the girl's mind.

The girl, FrostShadow, had a mind full of secrets, ones that M'gann instinctively avoided, but she still saw. She held herself to a high standard, with a desire to help people that permeated throughout. She saw a city of trees, a key. A gate. Shadows and ice, and storms surrounding her and her older sister. Death. Destruction. She saw a massive battle, a series of massive battles. Deaths, and then a need to pull back. She was more affected by it, and… then M'gann was forced away, but she found herself hugging the girl tightly, and the emotions grew more intense. The selfless actions, even in the face of adversity, meant that the girl was good.

Then, like a moth to the flame, she probed the second girl, meeting her pair of burning red eyes in the process. BlackFire's mind was much like her younger sister's, full of secrets, full of battles. She'd been affected by what they'd needed to do as well, but she worried more about her younger sister, about FrostShadow's health. It was BlackFire that suggested they take a break and the way it happened. She loved her younger sister very much, and the two were bonded. M'gann could tell how close they were, but where FrostShadow had ice and shadow, BlackFire had her namesake. Flames surrounded M'gann, but somehow her normal fear never came. The flames wouldn't harm her. Not here. They faded away, revealing the alien girls themselves.

She hugged them both, as Connor watched.

"Whoa, what's going on, M'gann? You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, hugging the two tighter. "They've just… they've been through so much."

He frowned, nodding. He fell into a defensive stance as a rumbling sound started to come from the girls. They started to snuggle into M'gann's embrace, and it occurred to her what it sounded like. Purring. They sounded just like cats, and they even somewhat looked like them too with their graceful movements and the way they moved their eyes.

The smaller one slowly blinked, pulling slightly away from M'gann as she did so. Her eyes seemed to regain focus, and she looked around the cockpit of the bioship, curiosity wafting off of her. The smaller girl's eyes paused on Connor for a second before coming back to M'gann and meeting her own.

"Huh," said the girl as she tilted her head to the side. Her horns glinted some in the ship's lighting, and her eyes seemed to glow blue as they caught the light. "You are… new. Both of you. Perhaps, you are friends of the Nightwing?"

The girl's sister seemed to come back to herself, and she nodded.

"I'm not sure you could call us friends," said Connor, and M'gann shot him a glare.

"Of course, we're his friends," she said. "I'm called Miss Martian, and that is my friend Superboy. Who is indeed friends with Nightwing."

"Some of the time," Connor added.

The older of the pair let out a snort. "Clearly. My name is BlackFire, and she's my younger sister, FrostShadow."

M'gann heard the way she stressed the names and adjusted accordingly. BlackFire, not Blackfire, FrostShadow, not Frostshadow. It was important enough. "Nice to meet you both."

"Indeed," FrostShadow said, a smile playing cutely on her lips. "Though I did not expect to meet other nonhumans today, let alone end up on… a Martian ship?"

"Yes, this is my ship," said M'gann. "You were affected by the Zeta-Tube transition and needed some psychic shielding."

Both girls nodded. They spoke in unison for a second. "That makes sense."

"It was a form of teleportation we are not used to," FrostShadow said. "The method probably interfered with us metaphysically."

"We'll be prepared next time," BlackFire added. "And… Miss Martian and Superboy, huh? You do have… other names, correct?"

FrostShadow reached over M'gann and poked her sister in the shoulder. "BlackFire! That was rude. You should not just ask about something like that. Secret identities are secret for a reason."
BlackFire made a comment in a foreign tongue that sounded almost like Latin. That explained the accent that both had. It reminded her of the humans from Italy. Her tail swished from side to side.

FrostShadow replied in the same tongue and then nodded to both M'gann and Connor.

BlackFire sighed, and she nodded. "Apologies, Miss Martian, Superboy. My sister isn't wrong about the politeness. I managed to refrain from asking the same question of Nightwing and Batman, but in my defense, both were human. Despite my surprise about Batman."

"I did tell you," FrostShadow said.

BlackFire shrugged.

"It's okay," M'gann said.

"Sort of," Connor added. "It's not like we haven't been asked before. You were tamer than some."

"Curious," FrostShadow said, her lips quirking into a smile again as her tail swished. Amusement wafted off her. "Of course, those names are hardly the most creative that could be used. Miss Martian and Superboy? A girl from Mars and a boy with superpowers, I suppose. Any relation to Superman?"

Connor looked down, clenching his fist.

FrostShadow held up a hand. "Apologies. I did not mean to bring up something distressing."

"Kryptonian, but only partially," BlackFire observed. "That explains it. You are part human."

"I am," Connor said. "I'm a clone, a mix of his DNA and a human's."

"We see," said the girls. "Apologies again. We did not wish to cause you pain."

He waved the unclenched hand. "It's fine. Fine." He looked at them, cuddled up to M'gann and nodded. "I'm assuming FrostShadow and BlackFire aren't codenames?"

"No," said BlackFire. "They're actually our names."

"Then you can call me Connor," he said. "Just Connor."

"And my birth name is M'gann M'orzz," said M'gann. The purring sound from them, which hadn't stopped, got louder at that.

"M'gann… M'orzz… Connor…" the girls almost tasted the names.

An involuntary shudder went through M'gann, albeit not of disgust. She wasn't entirely sure, but something about the way they said her name caused a telepathic ripple, yet not an unpleasant one. It was actually the opposite of that. She wasn't sure what they did, but they were… there.

FrostShadow blinked, tilting her head to its other side. "Oh. Right. I apologize. You are… It just… Never mind."

M'gann pursed her lips, and then she reached out with her mind. Whatever had happened between the four of them had been interesting, and she needed to find out more. Unfortunately, as she brushed FrostShadow's mind, she immediately was assaulted with a pair of icy eyes that chilled her to the bone. If she pushed, she got the feeling that it would simultaneously be the best and worst decision she made that day. It certainly was tempting.

"Careful," BlackFire said after a second. "Dipping into my sister's head is a recipe for madness, and the protections she has…"

The accent was more pronounced that time. M'gann wondered where they had learned English, as for the most part, their diction was good, but the accent came through at times. More so with the younger of the pair. "I'm sorry. It's been a few months since I've been around other telepaths."

FrostShadow nodded. "I understand, but please ask permission before you try and listen in. We have strong defenses on our minds, most of the time."

"You mentioned that the Zeta Tubes disrupted those defenses," Connor said. "How are you going to be prepared for them next time?"

"We know what they feel like now," said both of them at the same time. It was a little eerie, as their voices synchronized and harmonized. "We can adjust accordingly as we prepare. We may need to study some of the literature on the technology to make sure our calculations are correct, but it should work."

"I see," said M'gann. "Do you think that your defenses are good enough to leave the bioship now? That you won't be overwhelmed?"

"We should not even be 'whelmed' about it," said the girls, smiles playing on their lips as their tails swished in unison. "Especially with the two of you there."

"How am I helping, exactly?" Connor asked.

"You both are familiar to us now, as Nightwing is," FrostShadow said. "We can use your emotions as an anchor, if it comes to that."

"Perhaps it won't," BlackFire added. "But it's good to have backups."

M'gann nodded. She could understand that, and given what she had seen from the two of them before, she was pretty confident that it was worth helping them out. She stood up and offered each of them a hand up, and so did Connor.

The two paused for a moment then with solemnity they took the hands, standing on their taloned feet, and together, the four of them left the bioship. As the four of them made their way into the hangar, both FrostShadow and BlackFire immediately sniffed the air. Curious, they must have had some sort of enhanced sense of smell, compared to that of humans or Martians.

"So, where are we, exactly?" BlackFire asked. "Batman just called this place the Mountain."

"I'm not sure if I should say," M'gann said. "We do keep locations secret, for safety reasons. Maybe if you stay longer, or we hear from some of the League, we can share it."

"It's an older League facility," Connor added. "That they repurposed for our team. I'm not sure how much you know, given what Nightwing mentioned."

FrostShadow waggled a hand. "We have heard of some of the Justice League, but how much of our knowledge is accurate is unknown. Some of the heroes had partners in our intelligence, but I am uncertain as to how much veracity it contains."

"You did research on us?" Connor asked.

BlackFire shook her head. "Not as such. We read some passing reports on various Earths as they come through, and this isn't the only one with a Justice League."

"Various Earths?" M'gann asked. "Your species does dimensional travel?"

"It is how we arrived here," FrostShadow said. "We will need to recalibrate some things to attempt a return home, but much of Diyu does reach out to extradimensional areas. Our nation even trades with multiple Earths."

"That could be interesting, I guess," M'gann said. "So you haven't encountered the League yourselves before, just in intelligence briefings?"

"Something like that," BlackFire said. She tilted her head as they made their way into a hallway. "And… it looks like the only other person here is awake now."

"That would be Aqualad," Connor said. "He spends the night here often enough."

"Any relation to the Aquaman?" FrostShadow asked.

"He's a subject of Atlantis," said M'gann. "But we'll let him introduce himself properly."

The four of them fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the walk as an ease settled over M'gann in their presence that she hadn't really felt since she left Mars, save for around Connor at times. They seemed to anticipate the directions that M'gann and Connor both wanted to go, and both Diyu-vians had no issues navigating with their help.

When they made it into the Mountain's lounge, both Kaldur and Nightwing were sitting on the couch, deep in conversation. Nightwing gave a nod and a smile upon spotting the girls up and about.

"Glad to see the two of you are feeling better," said Nightwing. "Aqualad, those are the two I was talking with you about. Meet FrostShadow, the smaller one, and her older sister, BlackFire."

Kaldur stood and bowed to the guests. "A pleasure to meet you both. It is always good to meet someone under peaceful circumstances."

"Indeed," FrostShadow said, returning the bow, dipping her horns to Kaldur. "M'gann said that you were a citizen of Atlantis. I am curious how you decided to fight for surface dwellers."

"I merely followed the example of my king," Kaldur said. "What affects the surface can affect Atlantis as well."

"That makes sense," BlackFire said, also bowing her horns. She stood up, and smiled. "And as Nightwing introduced us, I want to make it clear that those names are actually our names. We do not have the same sort of codenames as you do."

"They're soldiers," Nightwing said. "In the general sense of the word."

FrostShadow nodded. "More specifically, we are pilots within our country's Fleet."

"So, why exactly did you come here then?" Connor asked. "And by yourselves…"

"Technically, we're on a temporary assignment to a testing facility," BlackFire said. "We were in the process of testing some new hardware, and we went somewhere we… normally would not have. In order to avoid a dangerous situation, we did a blind transition and ended up in Gotham City."

"It may not have been the smartest move, but it was necessary," FrostShadow added. "We will need some time to calculate the best route back home. Batman's offer was generous, but Nightwing made it clear that it was not up to him."

"They helped with Solomon Grundy and the Joker," Nightwing said. "While wearing their power armor."

"Ritual Plate," FrostShadow said. "It requires innate energies of the pilot to help operate, whereas power armor would have a separate power source."

"If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck," Nightwing said… He shook his head. "But yeah, they don't really have a place to stay. I know we have room here, but it'd be up to you three."

"I have no objections," Kaldur said. "I would be curious to discuss these energies with you both."

M'gann nodded. She was curious to learn more about both of them as well. Plus, being with other telepaths was comforting in some ways. It reminded her of home in the best ways. "They can stay."

As everyone looked at Connor, he raised his hands. "I don't really care either way. How long are you planning on being here?"

"As long as necessary to get our bearings so we may return home," said BlackFire. "We can, perhaps, help some if you require it."

Connor nodded. "Then sure, you can stay, for now."

"Thank you, Connor," FrostShadow said.

"If you are staying, I'll introduce myself properly. I am Kaldur'ahm, of Atlantis. You may call me Kaldur in private, but I am Aqualad in the field," said Kaldur. Everyone turned to look at Nightwing.

He raised his hands and shook his head. "Sorry. We just met. Maybe after we get to know each other more, we can share that, but I'm fine with you just calling me Nightwing."

"NightWing is a nice name," FrostShadow said with a swish of her tail. Perhaps she found something amusing. "It is surprising that we have not met someone with that name before now, but I suppose some mothers would rather choose other names."

"And NightWing chose his," BlackFire said. She glanced over to her sister as FrostShadow started to yawn. "Perhaps we should retire to bed. Frost and I would like to share a room, if possible."

"You can have the room next to mine!" M'gann said with a smile. It was so nice to have additional telepaths here, and girls to boot. "I'll go ahead and show you where it is."

"Until tomorrow morning then," Kaldur said. "Nightwing, are you going to stay as well?"

"Not tonight," he said. "The new Robin's probably getting restless with Batman out alone. I should help him work off some of that stress. I'll bring him with me when the rest of the Team meets up tomorrow."

Kaldur nodded. "We will have to ensure his readiness. Hopefully he… will be better prepared than the last."

Nightwing grimaced. "Yeah. See you."

"Good night, NightWing," said the new girls, and M'gann led them into the room they would be staying in.

The room next to hers had been empty since Artemis had moved out of it entirely in favor of a room closer to Wally, but it still had a couple of twin beds, a dresser, and a mirror. The beds had the most basic of bedding on them, pillows and a light comforter. Immediately, the Diyuvians pushed the two beds together and climbed into the bed. They smiled at M'gann, and a wave of tiredness seemed to overtake them.

And her, for that matter. She was going to say good night, to head back to her own room. But something made her linger, and as she stepped closer to the bed, the girls pulled at her mentally. When she got close enough to them, FrostShadow's hand lightly landed on M'gann's arm. Somehow, she found herself lying on bed between the two of them, and before too long, sleep claimed her.

In a way, it was the best sleep she'd had since setting foot on Earth.

PaiRho · Aug 29, 2024

Awww, succbie pile up.

Sunshine Temple · Aug 30, 2024

ellf said:
(Realized I forgot to post this here)

<snip>

In a way, it was the best sleep she'd had since setting foot on Earth.

Oooh, great to see this!

PaiRho said:
Awww, succbie pile up.

Indeed! It does shows the advantages and how enticing the succubae can be!

Hai-Spectrum · Aug 30, 2024

Any way those YJ side posts could have a threadmark?

Sunshine Temple · Sep 1, 2024

Hai-Spectrum said:
Any way those YJ side posts could have a threadmark?

Added their threadmarks

Sunshine Temple · Oct 26, 2024

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

Interim Fanfiction and Fanart

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 34: County Encounters

The seat of Larium County was a charming little town named Jopecott which nestled snugly in a valley on the banks of the Veltian River. Surrounded by farms and lumber yards, roads radiating out from the town to connected of the little outlying hamlets and smaller towns to the main north-south provincial turnpike that ran right past the tiny little High Street mercantile and entertainment district, whose two bars and lone proper hotel stood ready to extract denarii from the pockets of the road-weary and the thirsty.

It was all quite pastoral, with plenty of outstanding landmarks. After all, what lucky visitor to Jopecott would ever forget such eminently memorable sights as the grain and timber exchange, the local church, a central library, the tavern square, the "meat market", and the docks?

Sarcasm aside, at least the Great House War museum and memorial lent some credence to the idea that Jopecott was an actual town and not just another provincial backwater.

All of those intricacies of status and municipal pride were somewhat lost on me, though; trapped as I was in a stuffy second story room in the county hall, itself right next to the far more grandiose county courthouse, I could only wish the architects had put less thought into making an appropriately impressive facade and more into ensuring the rooms were adequately ventilated.

A large table held the pride of place in the room, a topographic map the size of a tablecloth draped across it. The sprawl of Larium and adjoining counties was pinned down on the table, trapped within the boundaries of the CSR-issued fifteen minute quadrangle.

I tried to dismiss the way the logo in the map's bottom left corner made the skin on the back of my neck creep. The Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance did more than conduct shady off-world operations. Such maps were part of the public-facing role of that particular office.True to their name, they had a lot of cartographers in their employ and made some of the best maps on Diyu. While I had excellent reason to remain wary of Invidia, CSR in general were loyal subjects and servants of the Imperatrix.

I hoped.

It was that lingering uncertainty that prompted me to wonder if anything had been... omitted on this 432 AR issue map. It wouldn't be difficult to make sure any inconvenient little details went missing or were distorted out of all recognition. And that went double for the rest of the accumulated information heaped up on the table and surrounding the map. On sideboards were stacks of folios detailing each of the routes, each with exhaustive lists and diagrams of any bridges that needed to be built, grades that needed to be cut, analyses of soil composition and formation, and records detailing the ownership of all county-designated parcels along the lines of each route.

As the folios encircled the map, the table itself, and by complete coincidence, was encircled by representatives from the railroad, lobbyists from the timber concerns, august members of the county council, the property assayers, and assorted land surveyors with mud still on their boots, all of whom watched me with varying degrees of skepticism as I stared down at the whole pile.

Their skeptical regard was hardly surprising. I was the absentee landlady, a purported Imperial Heroine from the big city who had been given their sleepy county to oversee as part and parcel of her noble elevation. Now after so long spent away in the classified service of the empire, here I was, showing up at the seat of their power in a fancy suit with Legion pins in my hair, a mistress and maid-servant diffidently in tow. I had hardly spent a week here, far from enough time to establish any real presence but plenty long enough to threaten the local potentates' unchallenged dominion over the local levers of power.

A War Heroine absentee landlady was all well and good for the county's reputation, as long as she stayed away and left things to a sober-minded seneschal.

"I can see why this is a thorny issue," I stated, putting down the last folio. "Between the Imperial lands, the lands held in perpetual trust with our allies, the forestry lands, and the various freeholds, merely disentangling the ownership of all involved parcels will be… complicated."

One of the town clerks muttered something derogatory about knives and ears, which was doubtless an expression of irritation directed towards the local Drow community. The other two likewise muttered, something about stating the obvious in connection to my comment. While the animus of the former clerk was clear, I was not sure their two fellows' issues were with my age, my sudden appearance, or some misconception that I was an uninformed hoof-slogger only aping a feeble grasp on civil administration.

While I could, and indeed, would, hold their lack of discretion against them, I could hardly blame the clerks for their skepticism. I was essentially upper management, suddenly showing up out of the blue to take charge on a major project, the arrangements of which had all been arranged entirely absent of my participation. Not exactly the kind of thing that inspired confidence. Worse, they knew I would be gone in a matter of months, called back at the Imperatrix's command; I suspected they planned to endure my interference, wait me out, and then return to business as usual as soon as they saw my back, wings, tail, and all.

More fools, they.

The head surveyor was a wiry woman whose sharp, angular face mirrored the precise lines and measured angles of her trade, the tools of which – pens, dividers, and rulers – bristled from the pockets and straps of her vest. "That's only part of it, young miss. I mean," she hastily corrected, "you're correct, my Lady. The grade's not terrible, but there are a few rivers that require bridging, starting with the one right in town, not to mention the swamp up north that will also have to be crossed."

"And the routes have to match up with those labored upon by the next county over," the lady who had been sent to us from the railroad purred, her red eyes taking in the map as her tail swished like a hungry cat, eager to pounce. "No, it simply would not do. We must have a clear right of way all the way from Bovitar down south up to the very border in the furthest north."

I nodded to the blonde woman, ignoring the frustration building behind my horns. We had been flying around in circles for over an hour. "Yes, and that is the problem, Madam. Some stakeholders want the railway to go directly past their lumber yards for easy spur lines, while others think the terminus at Switchbend is already too close."

A councilwoman with gold glasses, a tight cobalt bun, and a ruffled dress that was as flattering to her form as it was several seasons out of date inclined her spiraled horns. I inwardly cursed, even absent LoveBlood's influence remained. "We are a plain folk in Larium, my Lady. Faithful and dutiful to the Imperatrix, but some... worry about getting a square deal." The council woman's oily smile faltered as her eyes flicked to the Lady from the Railroad.

Said Lady gave a bored laugh as she brushed imagined dust from her crimson suit jacket and retrieved from the coatrack an overcoat of some dark and luxurious fur, which she draped mantle-like over her shoulders. "That worry, eminently justifiable as it is, of course, is why the Duchess SilverFlight, in her Grace's great wisdom, asked you to spare some time to assist in this minor matter."

My eyes went from the map to the lady who had been sent to my county and found burning-crimson pin-like red eyes, and wondered which company it had been that had sent her as my Duchess had sent me. Surely I had been told as much, somewhere in the welter of introductions, but I couldn't quite recall that little detail. "I'll see what I can do. I can talk to some of my tenants." My gaze went to the lands held by the Lares and his people. One of the proposals cut across the bulk of their territory, but if just ten or so miles were added then the railway could curve around much of it. "A shorter path through their lands would mean the railroad pays less in leasing fees. How much variation is allowed in the routes?"

"Oh, as long as the waypoints are met, does it matter?" the lady who had come from the railroad asked in a bored tone, dramatically straightening the drape of her sumptuous black fur coat across her shoulders and giving everyone in the room a broad toothy smile. "Just consult with that one." The blonde waved, her shadows stretching over the room, to the head surveyor. "She knows the Railroad's demands. There are hundreds of miles of track to lay, and time is slipping. We must press on, you see. Ever onwards and ever upwards," the blonde airily stated as she strode to the door.

And with that as her goodbye, she was gone. Far from surprising the others, her sudden exit seemed expected. It was not, however, anything like how I expected a railway official to act. Again I found myself questioning just who had sent her, and from whence she came.

She had given no other detail than to say that she'd been sent by… the railroad. But a project this large had multiple sponsors. So, which line? Which office? What railroad?

I barely felt Reinhild's alarmed spike of anxiety, well-concealed as it was. Turning back, I saw that my maid had kept her placid, dutiful expression firmly in place, but her furry tails had slowed their customary near-hypnotic sway. They hung still in the air, almost like antennae searching for some disturbance in the conference room's stuffy air.

The whole room seemed to exhale in relief once the blonde railway representative left.

"It's not only the rail line expansion," asserted the councilwoman, breaking the silence and returning to the business at hand. "There's wells, electrification, cairns that need their stones re-pointed, enchanted, and consecrated. Satisfying the local spirits alone..." her voice trailed off as she adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses. "But with both the Great Southern and BSC lines sponsoring this work, leases on the right of ways, and Imperial and Provincial loans, we will have plenty of... support."

I frowned. The rates on such loans were not insurmountable, especially for those of us with access to the Legion and Fleet Bank. Suspicion of usury, however justifiable as it may be, was often a stated reason for reluctance to finance provincial development.

With her own Legion hair pins, Visha, in a nice leather bustier and matching skirt, looked every bit the part of a noblewoman's paramour. She gave the assembled table a winning smile. "Perhaps my Countess could have some copies of the main route plans made, so she can convince the necessary locals at her convenience?"

"Oh, yes! Of course!" the councilwoman said as she gestured to a clerk and a surveyor. Her tail flickered nervously; doubtless, she was still anxious after having had to deal with the representative from… one of the two or three railroad lines. "We wish you the best, and maybe we can discuss things... tonight?"

Reinhild handed the valise she was carrying over to Visha, who then gave it to the surveyor. I managed not to roll my eyes. Mostly by picking up one of the smaller maps and adding my own annotations to the proposed routes and property boundaries.

"I don't have any objections," I said. Not that I'm in any place to object without looking like a blundering fool, I thought while giving a self-deprecating smile. "I'll see if I can find any concerns or questions my tenants may have and pass them on to you. Not at tonight's dinner of course," I laughed. "But it will be nice to have you over for dinner."

"Thank you for your help," the councilwoman gave an unctuous smile as the surveyor fed more paperwork to Visha.

"Similarly, if you have any questions for me, you can call upon my manor," I said as the valise snapped close, before Reinhild helped me put on my coat.

There was more lingering relief as I made my farewells. I could sympathize; that railway representative seemed to be quite the vexing task-mistress.

Leaving the planning room we passed the county clerk's office and went down the stairs, left the administration building, and stepped out onto the town square. There was a second-story balcony where we could have flown out, but that would have left Reinhild behind. The square had a fountain, empty for winter, flanked by a pair of statues. One was a worn old stone carving of the Imperatrix who bowed her head in respect to a bronze figure of a weary Legionary.

The square was bordered on one side by the riverbank, and while there were a couple bridges arching over the sluggish flows of the Veltian, it was narrow enough that most could comfortably glide across.

It was an overcast day with a breeze coming from the west. "I think VioletBlood will be helpful in all this," Visha said as cawing blackbirds wheeled overhead, seemingly irked at having to share the sky with bundled up townies making brief flights.

I was not sure why they were so upset. Demons rarely hunted them, as killing the dark birds, much less eating them, was as sour as an omen could be. Even rambunctious broodlings too young to understand such truths were normally too clumsy in the air to catch a raven or a crow on the wing.

The corvids landed on the bare branches of a large sycamore tree in one corner of the square green. Under that tree was an empty set of stocks. There were no gallows, but that was because Eastern Province preferred the firing squad over the rope or beheading.

After being cooped up in the county building, my Zephyr rushed out and proceeded to explore, blowing around bare trees along the sidewalk, which set the birds squawking anew.

I gave my wingwoman a skeptical look. "LoveBlood isn't the most... diplomatic of people."

"Assuming diplomacy can remedy these events, Ma'am," Reinhild murmured.

I turned my gaze to the kitsune, eyeing her closely and not for the reason so many demons would. Only with the benefit of long familiarity could I still see the lingering anxiety buried behind her usual composure.

"You noticed their concern as well, did you?" It was more of an observation than a question, and as we stepped around a family coming out of a used bookstore the kitsune nodded her quiet assent. The passing family's two broodlings had scarves tied around their tails and knitted caps with holes for their horns. Personally, I thought it wasn't cold enough to justify being so wrapped up, and by their fidgeting, the broodlings agreed with me, but I also knew that most mothers would disagree.

"I would be more worried about the county to our south, but it isn't hard to see how fractured local opinion is here," Reinhild shrugged, the almost careless gesture she affected at odds with that lurking worry.

"VioletBlood's barony will probably remain calm," Visha asserted confidently. "With only a spur passing across the edge of the fiefdom, they have nothing to complain about and much to gain. And since the Baroness has every right to anticipate calm, she's offered to help you; besides, she knows the area like only a truly local member of the gentry can."

I gave my consort a rueful smile and looked up at the grey clouds. "I'm sure she'll pick my mind about today's meeting to fill out her cursed list... as long as the storm doesn't delay her from returning with her cousin. The roads between here and the Barony of Lilla aren't the best. At least my sister RedWing is taking the turnpike so she should arrive tonight without issue," I murmured as we walked.

"Surely either will call if they're running late? That is why you got a line installed." Visha offered.

"Hopefully," I agreed as we stepped around another bustling family accompanied by broodlings swaddled with equal thoroughness to the first. For a weekday, the center of town was fairly busy, with knots of people going about their business and the occasional lumber truck or cart lumbering down the street. This busyness didn't extend to the docks, which remained fairly idle, with only a single lumber barge moored in place as plank after freshly-sawn plank was loaded aboard its broad, flat deck.

"Shall I go rendezvous with Brabant and fetch the caravan?" offered Reinhild.

Once, not so long ago, I had talked down Pulivia for bringing a luxury motorcar with her to the capital, mocking the very idea that a cadet would have any use for such a vehicle. Now, I was the debatably proud owner of a fancy Mammon Motors extended touring car all my very own, complete with driver.

"We could get lunch," Visha offered, distracting me from my brief despair.

My tail flicked; now that Visha had mentioned it, I was a bit peckish. "Excellent idea. Where to?" I asked, looking around the town square. Brewers Street, where most of the wine bars and alehouses in Jopecott were, was close by.

"Maybe something warm and filling?" Visha asked as she adjusted her jacket.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Alexi mentioned there's a stew-shop near the town-green. It should be just a left at the intersection ahead and two streets over," said Visha happily.

"Well, lead on," I agreed. "That doesn't sound far."

"Nothing is far from anything here; Jopecott is a nice little town," Visha said as we stopped at the intersection. The wait was brief, and we quickly crossed smooth bricks underfoot.

We passed under the shadows of the tangle of overhead cables going into the brick edifice of the town's telegraph office. It was quite modern; they even had phone booths and provided an answering and forwarding service for both calls and text that used a group of receptionists and runners.

Reinhild's tails swished. "That's relative, Ma'am."

"The 'nice' or the 'little'?" I asked as we turned down a new street.

The maid gave a small shrug. "I'm sure this town is quite charming, but 'little' is relative."

I nodded as we passed by the town's "meat market" with its rooms that could be rented by the hour. The Market was a place where locals, mostly human and, mostly guild members, could earn a living, or supplement it, satiating the hungers of others. Provided, of course, they submitted to Provincial Food and Safety inspection and had their hours and clients logged. Clients also needed to be in good standing and could be blackballed if guild members complained. My personal issues with the institution aside, the regulations went both ways, giving some protection to both laborer and consumer. It was not like carnal commerce was something my species would turn their noses at.

And when it came to consuming life-force, I was hardly one to be squeamish over a consensual business transaction. And if there were issues... well, we were a rather litigious society, and, jokes aside, a House that had an abundance of demon lawyers seemed better than the alternative methods of adjudication. Though once one got past the county seat, I wondered how many conflicts were really settled by arbitrage, let alone courts. As a countess, my "court" docket was rather light, though who would want to submit their claim to the judgment of an absentee Legionary Flier?

Around the Market's front doors, people of various species were chatting on their smoke break. Some gave us appraising glances.

Visha simply returned the probing interest with a friendly wave while Reinhild gave the lordly disdainful sniff universal to servants borrowing their employer's authority.

"At the meeting, those townies thought that Bovitar was the 'big city'," I surmised as we waited to cross the street, trading smirks with my small entourage at the sheer provincialism.

"And you grew up thinking Silvana was the 'big city'?" Visha ventured, puncturing my enthusiasm only slightly as we stepped aside to let a Forest Person pass. Said Forest Person reminded me of Lares in the set of her face and scent; maybe a cousin of his? He was supposed to be arriving today, though, and perhaps I was just seeing his face in expectation.

"Yes, with all the impressions of power, decadence, and control inherent in the City of Trees. But here?" I gestured. "The imperial capital is a distant concern while the Provincial Governor and her assembly in Bovitar loom over the province, hence that's the 'big city'."

"Meanwhile the folks in the hamlets and communes out in the hollers and hinterlands of your county think Jopecott is 'the big city', Mistress," Reinhild concluded with perhaps just the slights brush of condescension, in the way only a professional servant could truly convey.

"Making them very suspicious of a one-horse burg that could fit inside a troopship, and not even the largest ones, with room left over for their tractors and livestock," I agreed, murmuring to keep from being overheard. "But... Perhaps they have reason to be suspicious of Jopecott for now; after all, this is where the people whose signatures the railroad needs to put their plans into action are, and those plans determine who will get their lands squeezed out." Eminent domain was a… complicated mechanism, especially for those who had traditional ancestral lands like the Forest People or Drow, but even a citizen freeholder could draw out the legal process if she so desired.

Despite the advances of the Fourth Epoch, much of Diyu's populace was still rural, and that was true even in the more developed provinces of House BlackSky. Eastern Province may be on the border region, but it was on two borders flush with trade and had reasonably rich and accessible land.

"Who's the local senator?" Visha asked in a tone that could have been mistaken for idle curiosity, as if she were still playing the role of a mere consort. "What's her role in this?"

"Everything from Switchbend all the way up to the northern border falls under Senator Plebian Claudia ViceWind. It's odd that she wasn't mentioned during any of the meetings. I didn't expect her to show up or even send an aide, but her claws should be all over this project," I mused as we neared what had to be our destination, at least from the growing delightful scents.

"Maybe she's been eclipsed by a higher up?" Visha ventured. "Like the Senator for the whole province or the Senator Domina for the Duchy."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Mother's pet senator is the one advocating for all this 'progress' in the Curia back in the capital," I exhaled, tail flicking. I knew the idea of a relaxing vacation would be a mirage, they always were, but I hadn't expected the headaches to come from my own mother.

But isn't this a good thing? The silken voice born of spreadsheets and charts whispered in my mind. This is your land, and you know its potential. Why not seize this chance to develop and improve the lives of these hearty folk?

Better you than some flunky of the railroad.

My two companions gave me questioning looks.

"I'm not against improving and expanding the transportation network," I said, defending myself against criticisms whose source was more likely between my ears than either Visha or Reinhild's mouths. "There's a lot of untapped potential in this county, but I can still have concerns about the implementation."

When neither spoke to chide me for my treachery against all I had once held dear, I huffed and stomped up to the threshold of the Woodhall Social Alehouse, trying to leave the voice of a man lifetimes away from me behind in my dust.

It was one thing to bootstrap this county into a more profitable, and hence more comfortable, retirement. I would hardly be squeamish if the development ended up costing a little coin or blood either; such was the price of progress. The problem lay in the fact that I sincerely doubted the exchange would play out as simply as a little pain and suffering now purchasing a great deal of luxury later. If I netted myself a tidy profit for myself in the short to mid term at the cost of the undying enmity of every stakeholder county-wide, what kind of retirement plan was I ensuring for myself out here? I had enough enemies in other Great Houses without adding more to my own backyard.

The alehouse was a three-story brick pile roofed in verdigris-greened copper and lined with tall arched windows. Unsurprisingly, the structure also served as a guildhall and exhibition piece for the local lumberjills, timbermen, and woodcutters. We walked down a short flight of stairs and ducked into the main room, where rows of well-polished wood tables stood below a surprisingly low ceiling. A bar constructed with massive gleaming planks beautifully varnished and polished stood to our left, while another set of stairs leading to the second story occupied the rightmost wall of the room. A few odd decorations were haphazardly scattered about the room, with a large stuffed bird with four legs mounted on the wall alongside a couple forest creatures I couldn't quite identify, and what might have been a turtle.

Peculiarly, my Zephyr seemed uncharacteristically quiescent after I entered the room.

We had scarcely crossed the threshold when the smells from the kitchens hit, and brought with them a full tsunami of nostalgia. I remembered wintry days at the orphanage, helping the nuns cut vegetables, pull down dried herbs and peppers, and hungrily watching as bundles of dry, canned, and sometimes fresh meat or fish stewed together in the iron bellies of the giant cauldrons.

Gumbo, stew, tagine, lobscouse, and any other filling and flavorful dishes that could be cheaply stewed in bulk were staple at the orphanage. They cost practically nothing and could usually be prepared from the sorts of long-lasting ingredients either commonly donated by parishioners or which were often on sale. Most of the seasonings, including herbs, peppers, garlic, and onions, were sourced from the gardens the nuns maintained, further cutting down costs. There were eggs, and occasionally, meat, from the chickens and ducks we kept. In fact, the only real concern so far as nutritional yield went was making sure there was enough life energy added to the pot; thankfully, the orphanage got plenty of military surplus sugar crystals, and with their fortification we really had little to worry about.

Altogether, they were the sorts of meals that stuck to the ribs and stuck in the memory. Calling it "comfort food" would be a gross overstatement, but in terms of pure familiarity… It was difficult to imagine anything that could quite match those cheap and hearty stews of yore, nor their contemporary cousins I could smell simmering in the kitchens.

"I guess I picked the right place," Visha remarked as I blinked out of my haze.

Reinhild had quietly moved to wipe the corner of my mouth with a handkerchief, which I ignored with lifetimes of practice pretending not to notice the many things I shouldn't, either for politeness sake, or for my own sanity. After all, staring at fresh recruits losing their lunch because they got their first taste of blood and gore on the battlefield was hardly becoming of a superior officer. The hall was smoky, both from the charcoal cook-tops and cigarillos many of the customers smoking.

The conversation momentarily quieted down as the locals appraised us, their tails flicking. We must have passed muster because, after that awkward moment, their chatter resumed as if we'd faded back into the wainscoting.

A green-haired waitress, in a pale uniform that looked uncomfortably close to a dirndl with its long skirt and cloth bodice, came up to us. "Three for lunch?" she asked hesitantly.

My eyes went to Visha. Did she pick this place for a Germanic connection? Or was the uniform just a coincidence? Bodices were very common here, and that apron did look practical instead of merely being a frilly accessory...

Visha smiled and answered for us. "Yes, for three, please."

Reinhild looked like she was about to protest.

But Visha gave the head maid no room to object, favoring her with the sunny expression of my old adjutant which, despite its warmth, brooked no dissent.

The kitsune curtsied in mute response.

The waitress' tail flicked. "Uh, yes of course. Ladies, please come this way."

We were seated at a table in a somewhat private alcove between some pillars by the windows. After taking our drink orders, the waitress left, her hooves clicking on the wood floor.

"Oh my, so many good things to pick from!" Visha happily exclaimed, flipping through the little menu pamphlet.

"Anything stand out?" I absently asked, paging through the broadsheets that had been piled under the window. There was the Bovitar Record and the shorter but more thumbed-through County Circular.

"Do you want fish?"

"There's seafood this far inland?"

"Well... I think it's preserved. You know, like canned shrimp or dried fish? Fresh is best but not everyone can be near the shore," Visha's shrug had the tiniest bit of disappointment, but nevertheless she handed me the menu, questionable seafood-sourcing be damned.

"No reason to use fresh-off-the-dock meat to be stewed in a big pot," Reinhild noted.

I nodded my agreement. "The seafood boil is tempting, and I could go for something a bit lighter..."

"We do have a big dinner planned for tonight," Visha unnecessarily reminded me as the waitress returned with our drinks.

"Receptions at a county manor…" Sighing, I leaned back and sipped my cider. "Just the kind of nonsense I expected to find out here."

"Industrial development is a part of noble intrigue, Ma'am," Reinhild diffidently reminded, whatever the cause for her worry insufficient to fully crack her maidly resolve.

"It's all so... What can I even do here? The townies are right. Come the new year I'll be back off-world on some new mission. It's not like the railroad will even be here by then." I stared out the window, noting the birds taking off from the heads of the refurbished golems and tractors in the lot next to the seed and dry goods store across the street. It was not the most positive augury, but crows are nice, industrious, and loyal birds despite what the ornithomancers might claim.

"You'll do what you always do: your best," Visha smiled. "I'll think I'll have the Jambalaya. I didn't expect to see that so far from the Curae Sea."

I gave a vague nod of agreement, but it was hard to focus on a meal. "Is my best enough? DarkStar's Blood! It's almost December, and we'll have to report back on the 12th of the New Year."

"Talk with those impacted by the route and see what their concerns are?" Visha suggested. "Tonight's party could be a good opportunity."

"At least to network with the bigger landholders," I sighed. "But we shouldn't make too much trouble at the party; the staff have been working hard on their proposals. I doubt they would take any perceived efforts to circumvent their influence kindly."

Giving a coy smile, Reinhild tilted her head in a slight bow.

"What are you getting?" I asked my head maid.

"Oh, I'm just having the venison chili, Ma'am. I have high hopes for it. According to the menu, it's got a bit of pork fatback stirred in to help with the flavor. That the cooks know to add additional fat is a good sign," Reinhild said, her tails happily swishing.

"Maybe I'll get the beef stew. It sounds hearty without being bland." I put the menu down. It may not have been the best choice, but it should be tasty enough.

"And you can ask for some sauce or spices," Visha happily said. "Just remember that you can always add more but you can't add less!"

"I do have a couple small bottles," Reinhild reminded.

I chuckled. Carrying condiments was an old Legion, and Auxilia, trick for the express purpose of making bland rations palatable.

The waitress slipped back up to us, diffidently took our orders, and refilled our drinks before vanishing again with a clicking of her hooves.

My tail swished as I looked out the window; the cloud cover was breaking up. "I guess I shouldn't complain. This is still better than being back out on the front."

The chattering from the rest of the diners grew; turning, I saw a woman in a green Forestry Services uniform with a shining badge and gleaming gun-belt approaching our table with a pair of broodlings who were trying very hard to contain themselves in tow.

"Ma'ams, I'm sorry for interrupting you but my girls are big fans." I noted the deputy's black hair was shorn down into a pixie cut as she removed her hat. The smaller of the two girls carried a very familiar blonde doll almost as large as her. Considering the degree of wear, it was obvious that the girl cared for the doll and probably carried it with her everywhere.

"Oh, it's no inconvenience." I gave an only half-forced smile. At least, this was a social procedure I could understand. Besides, if there was one place where my inflated reputation would make me famous, it would be in my very own county. "What're your names?" I asked, leaning forward to the two young girls; their eyes wide with excitement.

As I talked to two more customers of the Imperial Propaganda Machine, Visha chatted up the deputy. She always was good with people.

In regards to the broodlings, I promised that if they were good, I would give them some gifts for Saber's Watch. The deputy, weighing the implicit obligation attached to the boon against an opportunity to placate her children for the remainder of the holiday season, nodded to Visha. Reinhild was taking notes of addresses and gift ideas.

When the waitress returned with a tray containing a trio of mouth-watering bowls and a platter of sliced dark bread, the family made their goodbyes.

"That was fun. Oh, and this looks delicious!" Visha smiled as she surveyed her lunch. I must admit for using what had to be preserved seafood the jambalaya was very appealing.

"And networking with the local constabulary is always a wise move," Reinhild noted before tucking into her chili. She took out a small spice bottle and put it on a table.

I sopped up some of my stew with a slice of pumpernickel bread and gave it a thoughtful chew. Smiling, I shook my head, and the kitsune pocketed the bottle. "Good idea, picking this place, Visha," I said, taking a brief pause in my meal.

Conversation turned light, mostly about recreational plans. I was looking forward to catching up with Lares. Last I had heard, he was planning to arrive today or tomorrow, and he said he'd leave a message when he got in. For my money, the sooner he arrived the better: while I had planned to take the opportunity presented by his visit to present my mushroom farming ideas to his people, I could also press him to see if the proposed rail route would present any great impact on the Forest People. They were, after all, a stakeholder in the Larium County's future as well, just as much as the demons in Jopecott and the freeholds were.

"Pardon the interruption, my Lady," Mistress RainsFord Songstress drawled in her Midlands accent. The huntress strode up to our table, effortlessly imposing on our dinner. She wore a reasonably functional outfit of dark pants, dark purple leather gun-belt, grey knee-length coat over a corduroyed dark red vest, and tall leather boots, a rather more rugged outfit than conditions within the dining hall strictly required.

The pale-haired woman still wore that wide-brimmed black hat, complete with a fresh clutch of white roses.

"Yes? It's an unexpected surprise to see you here," I said, eyeing the woman. This confirmed what I had long suspected. Even on leave, I had no privacy.

"Again, apologies. A little birdie told me you were here." RainsFord laughed; nobody else joined her. "Sorry, I was just coming down for lunch and I saw you three."

I blinked in politely mute disbelief.

The huntress's pale purple lips went into a smile as she pointed upwards. "I have lodgings on the second floor, you see."

"And how are you finding the accommodations?" Visha asked, her tone warm and gregarious. It was only by having spent years in her company that I could feel the tension in her demeanor, a discordant note under all the sweetness like a loose hair stuck in a spoonful of honey. Reinhild, for her part, had gamely slipped unnoticed into the background, emphasizing her consummate wisdom.

"It's been quite relaxing," RainsFord blithely replied. If she'd noticed her chilly reception, it hadn't bothered her in the slightest. That itself was remarkably forward "Last time I blew through Larium County, I stayed at the Pelican Tap down on Tavern Square. This time, I found that instead of having live bands, they just got a shiny new juke! I couldn't get a wink of sleep with hours upon hours of soulless racket, so I decided to find someplace else to hang my hat."

"Hopefully you'll recapture your lost rest tonight," I said, politely wishing the huntress the pleasure of the evening provided she leave. Considering she was removing her hat even as I spoke, that didn't seem to be in the cards. "Please, if it's no trouble, take a seat," I offered, shifting gears and pointing to the open spot across from where Reinhild had been sitting.

"Thank you, Countess." RainsFord took the seat as I got the waitress's attention, who promptly took the huntress's order.

"What brings you back to the county?" Visha asked the white-haired woman.

"Doing a spot of work escorting the surveyors," the huntress explained. "These woods are pretty safe, especially this time of year, but you can't be too careful."

RainsFord's eyes went distant as she looked out the window.

The waitress slipped up and placed a tall glass of a dark amber beer in front of RainsFord and cleaned up Reinhild's empty bowl. "But it's not all guard duty. I did just take the eldest son of the local Drow matriarch out on a hunt that was most... agreeable, and it may have broken a logjam in the negotiations."

"Oh? What query did you hunt?" I asked.

"Oh, it depends," the demoness hunter sipped her beer. "Bears hibernate this time of year, but drakes are still hungry, or if you just want a moderately challenging hunt that gives some good bush meat, there's the Lesser Griffin. They like to roost up in big trees overlooking creeks and streams."

"I heard those are tasty," Visha remarked.

"Yes, but they can be a bit of a pain to pluck and clean," I countered.

"I can give a few pointers on that," RainsFord said, and gave me a sharp smile. "I would love to take you out for a hunt."

I put my spoon down and kept a neutral expression. There was something that made me apprehensive about this woman. "The idea is tempting; I have been considering such a trip out into the woods."

"I would be quite gratified to guide you through the process," the demoness hunter purred. "Most of the time I'm babysitting workers or well-heeled locals. Normally, I have to deal with folks who'll stumble into every branch, wear high heels into the forest, or won't know how to hold a rifle. But taking someone out who knows how to hunt? Well, that can be... gratifying."

I picked up my glass. "I'll consider it. LoveBlood did express some interest," I said, trying to deflect or at least delay the issue.

"Please keep what I can offer in mind, it would be a pleasure," the demoness hunter assured as she bowed her horns to Visha as her large tail swished. "And you of course."

Visha smiled at RainsFord while sending me a slightly apprehensive emotional pulse. Agreeing with her, I wondered if the huntress was hitting on me or had a... darker interest.

The demon huntress took a long pull on her beer. "Countess, you're not the first Imperial Heroine I've met. Many of you start out bloody-handed and you keep at it," she quietly said, her eyes going over Reinhild's empty seat. "But you've already got a hunting guide, no?"

"Miss SunShower is an invaluable member of my staff," I said, stiffly.

"Ah." RainsFord gave a sly smile, tail curling. "Pardon the forwardness my Lady, but it would be no great surprise if you have already partaken on exotic hunts."

I tilted my head. Did she know about Harp's World? Even the Church knew some of what had happened during that mission. Maybe this hunter heard a distorted rumor. Or maybe she's just guessing. But why make that guess? Did I really come off as so bloodthirsty? I thought as I eyed her flicking tail.

"Oh no, you're not some blood-soaked savage, Countess," the huntress laughed, before her voice going very quiet. "You wouldn't dump some peasant groggy from ether out into the woods, plug her in the back after she trips over a root, and call yourself a great hunter before celebrating with a feast."

"Yes, I can't see the Countess doing something like that," Visha stated with a ghost of a grin.

Huffing, I gave my wingwoman a miffed glare.

"I mean no offense, my Lady." RainsFord held up a placating hand. "I see that your... interests are already being met."

Visha managed not to snigger.

"Well, what exactly are you offering?" I clasped my hands. As much as this woman was disquieting, I wanted to figure out what she was doing in my county.

"A nice, relaxing hunt," RainsFord assured as she looked around the room. "We're all on the same team here, and I want to make sure things go smoothly between us."

"Smoothly?" I inquired. My paranoia raced on the kinds of things a markswoman and woodswalker could do to make things "smooth". And she's reaching out to you, the poisonous little voice whispered in my mind, it wouldn't be the first time a sellsword tried to find a murderous noble patron and you are someone who relished going through the woods, claws wet with blood.

"Making things run smoothly is my job," RainsFord assured before looking up as Reinhild curtsied to me and then took her chair.

A shadow then fell over the entire table.

"Lares, good to see you," I smiled, looking up at the giant, shaggy Forest Person. Bending a bit to keep his head from hitting the ceiling beams, the long tunic he wore belted at his waist only underlined just how out of his element the gigantic Auxilia scout looked in this hall built for demonic proportions.

"Countess, glad to see you're keeping well," Lares said, his deep voice polite, though he gave the demon huntress a mildly curious look. 'Ma'am."

RainsFord scanned the room. Following her gaze, I spotted Brabant by the bar. The white-haired kitsune was having a drink, her fluffy tail swishing. I tried not to pry, but I had a mild concern at my driver having an alcoholic beverage.

The huntress finished her beer and reached for her hat. "I've taken too much of your time, my Lady. I wouldn't want to keep you from your companions."

"Oh, it was no trouble, it was good to catch up," I lied with all the ease of a salaryman saying they were happy to work overtime to satisfy a client's inane request. It was a skill that overlapped disturbingly well with all the etiquette lessons I'd had to suffer through during my education on how to conduct myself like the noble lady I had become. "Allow me to talk with my Baroness and maybe we can arrange something," I said, the noncommittal polite boilerplate easily passing my lips despite my trepidation about the woman before me.

But then, by now throwing my life foolishly into danger with a smile I very much didn't feel firmly plastered across my lips was just another day at the office. I already knew I wasn't getting a real vacation out of this anyways.

"I am always your obedient servant, please don't hesitate to call upon me." The demon huntress bowed her horns before she stood and put her hat back on. "Thank you for the drink."

She then got up and went to the far end of the room and climbed up the stairs.

Lares looked down at the now empty chair and carefully tested it by putting a palm on the seat.

It immediately let out an ominous creek.

"Hmm," Lares frowned and let the chair be. His eyes flicked back the way the demon huntress left. "Know what that was about?"

"I have some suspicions, but not precisely, no," I admitted.

"Was afraid of that," he rumbled unhappily. "Don't take someone with my nose to smell trouble brewing…"

The waitress came over with a far sturdier and larger chair made of thick wooden poles. Comfortable with a piece of furniture that could support his weight, Lares's unease reduced as he sat down. "Ah, nice to see that they have some quality woodcraft here. Hrm... interesting times indeed. Think this all about the Railroad coming to the county?" his deep voice inquired.

Sighing, I lifted my glass in a mock salute. "More than the big two rail companies. There's Imperial and Provincial grants and support, and every landholder impacted is gonna get monthly rental payments which, for a lot of the locals, will be a comfortable sum. There's plenty of aurei at stake here."

The Forest Person gave a big sigh, the impact of the gesture even larger due to his great lungs. "And not just money..."

I nodded, taking his unspoken subtext. Family roots ran deep here, and there were plenty of factions and interests. If the railroad thought they could throw their weight around, then the locals were bound to push back.

"How was your trip back?" Visha asked, trying to brighten the mood.

"It was pleasant enough," Lares said with a slight smile as the waitress came to take his order. He seemed pleased with the menu options, or at least, not dissatisfied by them. "Not a bad place, good joinery on the beams and that bar top came from my aunt's red chestnut grove. Real nice piece, that."

Visha smiled. "I thought this place sounded nice."

Lares nodded to her. "I've still got to check in with the family, but I can make it tonight."

"Excellent," I smiled. "It's not the right season for it, but we can lay the groundwork for that mushroom harvesting idea."

"Well, I can make a few introductions." Lares slowly nodded his head and graciously accepted the mug of mead the waitress brought him. "But won't that be a distraction from all this... Railway business?"

I frowned while Reinhild's tails wagged and Visha tittered. "Oh Lares, this is how the Countess relaxes," my wingwoman assured.

A sigh passed my lips. "There's nothing wrong with planning your future. And what's wrong with some mushroom farming? Maybe I could expand my manor's orchard and do some fruit cultivation too. I'd like to have a job where there's no great consequence, no lives on the line."

Visha took my hand.

Lares nodded while the kitsune seemed sympathetic.

"But that's enough dreary talk. We have a dinner party to prepare for tonight. But more than that, we're on leave and should enjoy ourselves. Compared to active deployment this is still an improvement." I smiled, almost believing my words.

+++++

It was a bright winter day when I set about cleaning my chapel to Our Hallowed Lady. In no time at all, I had already filled a pair of dustbins with the stems and deadfall from the overgrown rose bushes overflowing from the gardens flanking the front door of the small stone building.

Even in their winter state, the barbs on the rose-canes were still sharp. After the first couple pricks, I had swapped to sturdier gloves and counted myself lucky that my current clothes had long, thick sleeves. The afternoon sky was a bright blue with just wisps of high clouds moving east, and the light wind bit with just enough chill to make me doubly thankful for my long, thick sleeves.

Freshly-greased prayer wheels clicked, and new, silvery pinwheels spun as I finished up the horticultural triage. The gardens were home to more than just the sullen, deeply entrenched rose bushes, though not for lack of trying from the thorny plants. My guess was that the gardens contained a large number of summer snapdragons and what looked like a million bells. Perhaps, because that estimate was based on the amount of dead leaves in the garden and that there were living, identically leafed, plants in the manor-house's greenhouse. Some similar, smaller flowers were out here in the garden, putting up a valiant rearguard action against the roses. I hoped to help their last stand in my own way.

I did not blame the groundskeeper for the garden's unruly state. Her staff was small and, between the orchards, the woods, and the gardens around the manor itself, they were struggling to keep everything alive and reasonably well maintained. The gamekeeper helped when she could, but she had her hands full with her own share of work around the estate, possums and other rodents the least of the nuisances keeping her time occupied. If nothing else, I certainly didn't begrudge any denarii I spent on them, tidying up like this was a tranquil moment of solace in my otherwise hectic and demanding life.

Stopping to inspect my work, I felt a chill as the wind picked up, stealing away the heat of physical activity, leaving only the cold sweat that work had produced to trickle down between my wings. Thankfully, I had reinforced the thickness of the coat I was wearing with just the slightest twist of my magic, so the discomfort was minimal, but… how did the wind always find some way to slip in like that?

Still, marginally effective wind-shield or not, cold sweat was cold sweat, and so I walked up the stone steps with just a bit more haste than I usually would and slipped through the door.

The chapel was a small building with only a single room, furnished mostly by a few rows of half-dusted pews. Piled neatly on one end of the rearmost pew were the broom, mop, rags, bucket, and wood polish that I had been using earlier in the day. It would have been trivial to simply order Reinhild or Frugi to have someone clean it and only slightly more difficult to corral my Vs to help, but... there was a reason I had waited until both of them had gone to town before setting my hands to this particular burden.

Besides, a bit of solitary manual labor gave me some relief from the demands of the Countess and the Centurion. The second of which had been more pressing in recent days, as Gibbs and her Ritualista had turned a long unused fruit cellar into a Ritual Plate crypt. Such a project required much support work, including running power down there, replacing the door, adding locks, and other security measures best left in my hands while Gibbs managed all the fiddly bits herself.

Doctrix RedWing had dropped hints that she would be happy to drop by and help check out my suit once all the components, including my long-overdue mask, had arrived. I had some sympathy with Gibbs's silent ire at the idea of some egghead poking around her suit, but I was loath to say no to my sister. Besides, Gibbs would inspect any work done on my Polyxo anyway, as a matter of course. LoveBlood even made the boisterous comment that this way Gibbs would be able to check my sister's ego with all errors she found in the Doctrix's wake. I had my doubts about how that would go, but my head Ritualista would have to be satisfied with that.

Oddly enough, from the thoughtful look that overtook her face when VioletBlood suggested it, I grimaced, I'm worried Gibbs just might.

It was only slightly warmer inside the chapel than out in the garden, thanks mostly to the heavy stone walls blunting the worst of the wind's teeth, but it couldn't remove the chill entirely. Several decades past, a previous Countess had installed a conduit connecting the chapel to the manor's boiler room for the purpose of piping hot air into the nave and defeating the cold lairing in the flagstones and carefully masoned walls. Unfortunately, age and deferred maintenance had taken their toll and the air ducts had clogged years ago, leaving the bone-aching cold the undefeated mistress of the outbuilding.

Doubly unfortunate, if the apologetic groundskeeper was to be believed, I had to choose between restoring the air duct to working order or repairing the chapel's slate roof. A decision mandated both by the thinness of the grounds' maintenance budget and the relative importance of the chapel. Keeping the manor house in order, or at least the appearance of it, ate up most of the caretaker budget, leaving outbuildings as a low priority. At least the springhouse was still in good shape, which meant we could drink our fill without worrying about contaminated water. The state of our other great necessity, reliable communications, was better than the state of the air ducts as well, but only because I could easily co-opt the old telegraph poles to hang a new phoneline from.

Standing in the hushed chamber of the austere chapel, I looked up at the open ceiling beams, long since gone dark with age. In the still, dusty air of the nave, the threadbare banners suspended from the beams hung gracelessly limp. Among that collection of faded relics, however, one banner was still stiffly new, colors vibrant and tassels undiminished by dust or spiderwebs. The beams themselves, though, and what little of the roof I could make out in the high eaves, seemed to be in good repair, free of leaks or internal cracks.

Chilly, but structurally sound, I concluded, deciding that the condition of the building and the plain altar indicated that my Seneschal and the preceding caretakers had made the right choice when it came to prioritizing repairs. Besides, there would scarcely have been any point in heating the room if all the warm air could escape out a damaged roof, now would there?

Gazing around the chapel again, I noted that the chapel had seen some level of recent use, even though the manor house had stood absent its mistress for years. Old dried garlands of white roses decorated the ornamental chancel rail delineating the sanctuary itself from the broader nave, and the altar that stood at the sanctuary's very heart. Newer wind chimes whose sleek, polished bells dripped with long, metallic prayer stripes flanked the altar, seeming almost eager to be sounded so the prayers of the faithful could rise upon their peals.

My tail swished as I strode forward between the pews and, acting on ingrained habit, knelt down at the chancel. Atop the altar stood a statue of DarkStar, gazing down at celebrant and congregant alike with a serene expression tinged by regret. In the morning, light would flood in through the simple stained-glass window behind her, leaving the idol silhouetted by the light of dawn, and by the large, four-pointed star and white roses that occupied the bulk of the window's design.

It was times like these that I preferred the sect I was raised in. Our Hallowed Lady was more temperate and our chapels were less prone to relying upon imagery of Her earthly suffering to inspire the awe of petitioners. Our Martyred Lady, one of our primary rivals, frequently and unsurprisingly highlighted Her Holy Wounds in their iconography.

Of course, these were only the more mainstream and relatively "moderate" chapters. The less said about the more fringe sects, the better.

Though considering how the least objectionable of said sects, Our Hallowed Lady, still had a militant order, avoiding the unfortunate topic of their existence altogether was unfortunately impossible. Made all the worse because, technically speaking, I met all the qualifications to be counted among their holy army. It would hardly be a difficult process should I choose to submit myself to their rule upon completion of my Legionary service and, I would assume, after sustaining multiple traumatic brain injuries.

Following the procedure I had learned as a novice, I fixed my eyes on the idol of the Martyred Lady, focusing my attention on her tranquil face, and then bowed my head in meek submission, grateful as always for my headdress keeping my hair from tumbling down into my face and ruining the entire posture. Head and horns lowered, eyes demurely fixed upon the flagstones before me, I clasped my hands.

"Blessed DarkStar, most Hallowed Daughter... Hail to your sacred name. Distant now, once you walked among us; we eagerly await your return. Your protective wings shelter us, Lady of the Endless Void, your hand soothes us. Be with us now, and in the hour of our end. In your sanctified name we pray..."

I harbored no illusion that I would receive an answer, but that was hardly the point. The act of the ritual, of reciting the forms and bowing in familiar genuflection, was a balm upon my nerves all its own. That solace from stress was the real benefit of the ritual, so far as I saw it.

This was, after all, supposed to be a vacation. I was all but obligated to discharge my stress in any way I deemed expeditiously prudent.

"Darkest Angel," I continued, appending my own conclusion where a confessor or superior would deliver a homily in the full manifestation of the rite but I was alone so needs must, "I clean your house to honor you and to honor my mother, who serves in your name. Please banish all evil from within these buildings, cleansing the spirit of this estate as I sweep its floors, and return all malignity back to the emptiness from whence it came."

My hands strained as I thought of what my other mother told me, of the difficulties my County was facing; hardships were there in those tangled roots, but also the potential for great opportunity. "By Your blessed spirit, and in chorus with those above and before, I make bold to ask your blessing. Be it so, should You will it."

The banners above fluttered, setting the sigils of the past Countesses of Larium to dance in the cold vaults above. Comfort nestled into my breast as I slowly rose from the unyielding flagstones. There was no great spiritual mystery in that warm sensation; it was just nostalgia, the memory of simpler times that brought that cozy fulfillment and… warmth.

I tilted my head – the warmth was not just metaphorical. There was sunlight on my back, dissipating the cool stillness of the chapel. The front door was open. How had I missed that? I turned, and my anxiety vanished as I saw the tall woman in the full raiment of a Sister of Our Hallowed Lady standing under the mantle.

Mother Clementia smiled.

In her red habit and immaculate vestments, she was practically radiant against the dusty gray of the old stonework. She almost seemed to carry a halo of her own, like a celestial messenger. Only the few locks of her purple hair escaping her headdress marred the picture of a perfect prelate and gestured towards the mortal within the priestly robes.

I looked to the altar, then down at my still-clasped hands, and finally at my own nun's habit. "Mother, I can..."

Tail swishing, Clementia made a one-woman procession down the aisle and closed with me. "You needn't feel guilt, oh gentle Daughter mine," she said, her light reproof accompanied with a proud smile tinged only lightly by something that could have been regret.

"I'm not..." My tail curled behind me as I exhaled. "I simply didn't expect you to come so early. You could have called."

"And ruin the surprise? The abbess gave me a couple more days off at the orphanage." My mother looked around the small chapel. "You have a lovely little chapel."

'"I'm still working on it." I blushed, a bit of pride in my voice. "Did you have any trouble getting up here?"

"It was fine," Mother assured.

"I wish you had told me," I repeated, mildly peeved. "I would have had someone drive down to pick you up; the rail terminus is very... hectic."

I had nearly used a stronger term there, but I didn't want to worry my mother. Besides, calling Switchbend dangerous wasn't quite accurate; it was just that the rail-head there was overflowing with sidings laden with equipment, crew, and construction as the rails ground ever northward. It would not be long before it was no longer the northern terminus and the whole process would be repeated, but until such time, it was really no place for a personage so dignified as my mother to be wandering around unattended.

"It was busy, but the bus was very prompt," Mother allowed, and she gave me a look that was half amused and half chiding, "You are allowing your worries to lead you by the horns, Daughter mine. Is this the attitude that won you such a prestigious place in our empress's legions?"

Tail flicking, I let it go; my mother could be a very stubborn woman. "How are the girls at the orphanage doing?"

"Good, good." Mother smiled down at me. "Your help is very appreciated."

"It's nothing."

She quirked her lip. "We both know that's not true. You are making a difference in the girl's lives. Your sponsorship alone has helped seven girls formerly of the orphanage find guild apprenticeships; four others have secured University at Bovitar scholarships for the same reason."

I looked away, embarrassment and pride mixing in my chest. Those numbers had increased since Mother had last written to me with an update. "That's excellent news. But that's just... well, money."

"Money is a tool," Mother scoffed. "Powerful and easy to misuse, but you have been using yours well. Like after you started seeing a psychologist you got one from Bovitar on retainer to help the girls."

"It... helped," I admitted. Pediatrics was one of the few non-trauma types of medicine Diyu demons needed, as such, the Sisters already had a pediatrician for the orphans.

"We're still on for me visiting before Saber's Watch? And my other idea?"

"You are always welcome," Clementia hugged me. "And yes, having the girls spend a part of the holiday season out in the country would be lovely."

Returning the hug, I relaxed. "Good. I'm sorry that it's such a mess in here."

Clementia looked at the dust and cleaning implements. "I can help."

"Oh no," I squirmed, turning my face sternly up at hers. "I won't impose on you. You will put your feet up, rest, and enjoy your vacation."

"Daughter, I have been cleaning chapels and churches for longer than you've been alive. It's really no imposition." The corner of her lip pulled up in a smile. "Besides, I know why you're doing this yourself."

I tried not to look nervous as the eddies of the conversation turned against me. "It wouldn't be proper to order a servant..."

"I'm not one of your servants." She picked up one of the cleaning rags and nodded to the altar. "In here, we both serve Her."

"I... would like your help," I admitted, not really referring to the chapel's disreputable state any longer. There were other corners of my demesne badly in need of my attention, most of which required far more than a simple sweeping to be set right. Most notably, the quite thorny issue my other mother had dropped in my lap the day I had arrived.

Not all regions of Eastern Province were equal. Bovitar and the Lethe River dominated the center of the province and were well developed with pastures, timbermills, and the like. The east was carpeted with steppes from whose rich soils seas of grain sprung and over whose border the balance of landbound trade with Luxon passed. The long coastline on the Gaudia Sea ensured the south of the province a year-round access to productive fisheries of lesser kraken, bream, and herring, ideal for both consumption and fertilizer production. Less glamorous but at least equally lucrative, the west of the province largely ran along the lesser Romwell Alps, whose mines and quarries provided both the mineral wealth as well as the literal building blocks required to further develop my province.

Meanwhile, the northern parts of Eastern Province had... potential. Potential that slumbered unrealized, at least for now. Not that the northern reaches had gone entirely neglected – there was a fair bit of development on the shoreline of Lacus Superum and along the border with House Andromache. The interior, however, including the region where both my county and VioletBlood's barony lay, remained a sleepy backwater. Except for the outbound line to Andromache, up which flatbeds trundled fully loaded under the weight of quarried blocks and trimmed tree-trunks, which hoppers bursting with anthracite, fine white sand, and finished goods from elsewhere in the empire rolled, and back down which cars laden with refined metal and foodstuffs rolled, we had been bypassed entirely by the major rail lines.

Until now, at least.

My Duchess had dumped the management of a gravely undeveloped county caught in the headlamps of rapid development thanks to the new railhead into my lap; Mother Clementia, on the other wing, only offered her help, no strings attached.

"Maybe you can tell me about how everyone's doing," I suggested, bidding for time to mull her offer over. "I would like to know who received those new scholarships and apprenticeships; perhaps we could start there?

Mother Clementia nodded and obligingly began to relate everything I'd missed back at the orphanage, including the food.

As we worked, I felt a twinge of melancholy. Not just at the number of residents in the orphanage, though at least there were not as many war orphans as when I was small, but also because a small, irrational part of me felt like I had abandoned Mother. It was a stupid thing to feel, especially since it was hardly like being a nun at an orphanage lacked its advantages; it was a very safe position, and one well away from the maw of war.

Perhaps I would not feel this way were I not wearing a damned wimple right now, I fumed in the privacy of my head.

Clothes, after all, made the proverbial woman, and uniforms had a curious way of tugging trains of thought away from their intended tracks.

My status as a novitiate already trapped me half in one world, half in another, introducing another degree of separation to the gulf that already stretched between me and all of my fellow orphans of war. Not that I had ever been particularly close to my peers back at the orphanage, but now that everyone my age or older had already been adopted or emancipated and all new arrivals were progressively younger strangers, it was difficult to not feel somewhat estranged from everybody I had once broken bread with.

I still visited the orphanage and had regular correspondence, but there was a difference between visiting broodlings as a legendary Imperial War Heroine and talking with someone who used the same bathroom and showers as me but was merely a couple grades down in the school-house.

Our conversation wasn't one-sided; I talked too, mostly about what I'd been through, and of the people in my care. Obviously I couldn't tell her everything, but Mother Clementia understood vows of secrecy.

I did tell her of the loss of IronTalon, though, and of VioletBlood's first command, and I updated her on the recovery of Lavish's sister and of half a dozen other things, each small on their own but, I hoped, enough to build a mosaic through which she could see the people of my command as I saw them.

"It is the nature of things," Clementia assured as she polished the last of the pews. "Change is inevitable. We may think ourselves immune to the passage of time, but that is the temptation of hubris. The world turns, and we turn with it."

I carefully drained the mop into the bucket. I had lifetimes of experience demonstrating just how much and how suddenly everything could change. "Yes, Mother."

She gave me that familiar old smile, slight and knowing. "You still act just like you did back when you were small and I found you with your hand in the sweets tin, my daughter. You still can't lie to save your life."

"I never stole cookies or candy," I stated, calmly and absolutely without pouting. "Your aspersions are untrue."

"True, but you did act like a red-clawed thief when I found you borrowing some extra teething rings!" Mother's eyes glinted. "Perhaps you simply look the same when you are startled as when you are guilty? After all… there is no reason the expression of your faith should give you cause to feel guilt, Daughter."

"I'm not-" I stopped myself. Why was I protesting? Had we not spent the last hour as mother and daughter?

"Tauria, you're the most faithful person I know. Your moral values are unshakable," Clementia said.

My tail flicked as I frowned. Memories of a past life came unbidden: Mary Sioux, her eyes burning gold with frothing hate, feverish madness, and fanatical zeal, bared her teeth at me in a death's-head grin, the last expression to ever cross her face. "I wouldn't say I'm anything... special."

"Dear, you have unshakable faith. We both know that doesn't require you to be a blinkered, unthinking flagellant." Mother gave a gentle laugh as if she found the very idea a jest. "When DarkStar returns, I fully expect to see you greeting her with a list of doctrinal questions in hand and a request that she fully clarify the fullness of her Word upon your lips."

At her light jab, I finally allowed myself a chuckle. "Maybe I should get to writing those questions then."

Her eyes sparkled. "So you've heard the rumors too, then."

"There's always rumors about Her return," I hedged, eyes darted to the altar. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything.."

"Best not to get our hopes up," Mother nodded amiably. "The signs and auspices may be positive, but such things wax and wane. This could be another such cycle come and gone."

"She will return when it is Her time," I stated by rote. It seemed like the safe answer.

"Have you attempted any divinations on your own? Seen any signs of Her arrival on your travels, perhaps?" Mother's question was so mild it took me a moment to realize the import.

"I would never..." I protested, my tongue tying as I struggled to avoid loosing any secrets from it, my sworn oaths suddenly tight and constricting.

Mother tsk'ed and went to pick up the wooden fruit crate that she had left by the door. "Daughter, I know you are humble, but you downplay the impact you had on the success of your mission."

"There's not much I can say," I said, stiffly. "For various reasons."

"The chaplain to the HFV DarkStar wrote me a very interesting letter. One co-signed by the skipper of that august ship." Mother held up a forestalling hand. "The letter was very circumspect about the operational details, but the theological implications... Why, it might not even be overly presumptuous to say that moment was… miraculous."

"It would be…" I licked my lips, carefully looking for the right words, "prideful to assert that I summoned a battlecruiser. Some would say arrogant, even, to see auspicious signs and holy purpose where they might be merely…coincidence."

Mother's smile brightened the whole chapel. "Oh yes, it may be a coincidence, but some of the most learned women I know are not so sure. I know little of ship navigation myself, and I would expect such caution from you. The abbess and some other significant figures have taken notice, though, Daughter. I thought you might like to know."

Tail curling with apprehension, I found my curiosity growing. "Then what's in the box?"

"Just a few items to help fill out the chapel. It will open for service for the visiting orphans," Mother explained, pulling out a pile of hymnals tied with ribbon, incense, and a well-worn, well-loved Book of DarkStar.

My relief was evident. "That's a lovely gift."

Mother's smile grew, showing her teeth. "Oh, this is all just from me. There are also some divination tools a very helpful kitsune-woman is tucking away in your bedroom, waiting for you."

Now that made sense. A set of hexagrams, a fan, or even a ritual knife, if owned by the correct Church notable, would be another artifact the church could bestow on one such as me. Or maybe it was a journal of some saint on the interpretation of her dreams, visions, or even the birds she had seen and their meanings.

I tilted my head. "The gift from the Church isn't divination tools?" I asked, anxiety curdling to dread in my stomach.

Mother shook her head sadly. "It's small at least, and the custodianship shouldn't be that much more of a burden on you." Out of the crate that had been used to ship plums came a small lacquered box.

I took it with trembling hands. "There's no ritual for this?"

"We're in a house of DarkStar," Mother stated, then gave a tiny sigh. "There will be a more formal ceremony on Saber's Watch. Your suit should be done by then."

I frowned at that comment, but I had complained to her about the delays in my new Polyxo often enough that her mention of it didn't raise any red flags. Opening the box, I found a velvet liner, and, nestled inside, a tiny, dented silver censer. The strawberry sized ball was holed with star-shaped perforations and crowned with a clasp worked around a single red crystal.

My Zephyr immediately swirled around me, not quite blowing the box out of my hands. I had thought I had given them enough distractions to keep the air spirits tired out today, but their attention and energy spiked like puppies awaking from a nap to clumsily galumph about.

"This can't be...."

"Hers?" Mother shook her head. "No. But it was at Operation Sandalwood at the end of the Third Great House War, it was there when the War of Reprisal ended in the ashes of the Empty Quarter at the close of the Third Epoch. It's one of the last of a set made during the Golden Times."

I stared. That was a period of peace and revitalization nearly two millennia ago. This small bauble was as old as House RedStorm. "I... don't know what to say."

Mother's smile grew. "That's just the history, little one. It is said that when these censers were made with a fragment of Lilith's Blade, melted down along with the silver."

I raised an eyebrow. "A fragment with her daughter's blood? With Her blood?"

"The blade was lost to history not long after the Lantia Succession War," Mother pointed out, no trace of humor in her voice. "It is possible, if perhaps... unlikely. Or... providential."

I barely managed to restrain the creeping hysteria from the tiny laugh that escaped my lips. Hopefully mother would take that as me laughing at her pun. "So I'm in high enough esteem to have a potential relic of Her, but not one that is fully validated and vetted? Will the wonders of the Church ever cease?"

Mother's tail slowed, as I carefully put the box down on the pew and moved to hug her. My wings wrapped around her body. "Let others have the wondrous artifacts. Even without the legends it's wonderful."

Clementia returned the hug. "I was worried you'd be overwhelmed. I worry..."

"Oh!" I barked a laugh that wasn't quite so restrained in its hysterics, "I'd say I'm more than overwhelmed at this point."

Worry flittered across Mother's face before she managed to conceal it.

Not that I could blame her.

Between the absolute clusterfuck that had unfolded, and the even larger clusterfuck that had so nearly unfolded on Harp's World, not to mention the far too close encounter with the Fae, my other mother dumping the whole mess of the railroad business onto me… A sudden appointment to serve as the custodian for a relic of DarkStar herself only seemed like the natural next step on the road to some private hell.

"That is understandable." Mother's tail flicked. "You have more than enough to worry about. But I know you, and no matter what, I'm proud of you and know you'll do the right thing."

I frowned. She was agreeing with me, but it sounded like there was... more to it.

Her smile then became reassuring and I felt guilty for doubting my mother.

"But you said it yourself, I didn't get where I am in the Imperatrix's Legions for nothing." I shrugged. "I've dealt with stress before."

"Besides," I allowed myself a grin, "the uncertainty isn't that bad; I'll simply ask DarkStar to verify it Herself."

End Chapter 34

At least Tauria's settling in and starting to learn about her county and meet its citizens.

Thanks to Ahuva, DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, and ScarletFox for checking and editing this chapter And Special thanks once again to ScarletFox for once again coming up with a chapter title.

Sorry for the delay there were a few personal issues, including a family emergency, that had things go on the back burner for a while. And thanks again to my editors for helping get this chapter edited.

In good news, chapter 35 is written with its draft being edited right now. And chapter 36 has 9 thousand words written, so should be nearly done as well.

More good news, I've also got half a dozen art pieces to be posted ( including ones of the Lady from the Railroad, Miss Crow, and Mistress RainsFord, not to mention Milly and IronTalon, and some fun gowns and Elenese fashion) I also have a handful of new Legionary ground vehicle designs.

All that art and the upcoming chapters are on the Little Demon discord.

Have a spooky Halloween!

Simonbob · Oct 26, 2024

This is very.... Humanizing.

It's kinda hilarious that turning Tanya into a demon has a humanizing effect on her.

Very good chapter, all around.

RogueInquisitor · Oct 27, 2024

Doesn't Tauria have steward for her county? Haven't they been involved with the rail route issue? Why haven't we heard from them?

Sunshine Temple · Oct 27, 2024

Simonbob said:
This is very.... Humanizing.

It's kinda hilarious that turning Tanya into a demon has a humanizing effect on her.

Very good chapter, all around.

Thanks!

That was part of the story concept. To have Tanya as part of a demonic, but empathic, species and to be raised so that she is more "humane" and "humanized"

There's the irony level, and putting her in a society that is closer more to Tanya's own tastes (both overt and denied)

RogueInquisitor said:
Doesn't Tauria have steward for her county? Haven't they been involved with the rail route issue? Why haven't we heard from them?

Tauria does. And her Seneschal Alexi is around. She'll show up in the next chapter. But as alluded to in this chapter Alexia was put in for more of a caretaker position (IE being a steward of a stable situation, and was mostly passing things like the railway up to Tauria's sisters).

Rymu · Oct 27, 2024

Well, that lunch date sure was interrupted by everyone short of the demon's main deity. Poor Tanya

Also I'm not sure if it's just something I've forgotten but what is the source of Tanya's religious devotion here? As whilst calling her outright anti theistic is an exaggeration unless Being X was harsher than in canon, I can't see her as anything but neutrally respectful to the whole institution of faith invested in forces that are properly entities and it's practitioners.

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon (Youjo Senki alt)

Getting some practice in, huh?

Connoisseur.

Getting some practice in, huh?

Connoisseur.

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Nonrandom

Connoisseur.

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Connoisseur.

Know what you're doing yet?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Connoisseur.

Know what you're doing yet?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Know what you're doing yet?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

Knight Sirens Chapter Two

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Not too sore, are you?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Really? You don't say.

Know what you're doing yet?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Connoisseur.

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