Two Speakers versus one was, in most situations, an unfair fight.

Two Speakers, one fresh and the other hiding his true abilities, against an already stressed foe was an extremely unfair fight.

Which was why it was so shocking when Speaker Asrar took so long to concede.

From the moment flame licked Serena’s horns and her hellfire tail manifested, the battle’s outcome was inevitable. Her newly acquired jade sword seemed to sing with delight as she slipped into blue; an action that had nearly killed her half a year ago was now relatively comfortable. Gritting her teeth, she leapt into the fray, engaging with Speaker Asrar’s flying jade tahtibs.

While her sword wasn’t the best tool for arresting the momentum of the incoming attacks, Serena found herself feeling in control. She immediately fell into a state of flow. It was as if she were the quiet centre of the storm ravaging the council chambers. Her footwork was steady, even on the churned-up floor. Her body remembered the lessons Katalin had taught. The same movements that enabled the ‘Northern’ swordmaster to deftly avoid getting swarmed were the same movements that prevented Speaker Asrar’s tahtibs from being able to have a clean shot at Serena.

By constantly repositioning herself at the periphery of Asrar’s position and using the chamber’s pillars as natural terrain, she was able to frustrate his bloodied efforts. If he weren’t so relentlessly focused on managing his hekakhet ability, he might have cursed her for getting involved. As he was now, he didn’t have the luxury of speech.

Asrar’s blue would flicker, but through sheer will, he forced himself to maintain his convection. Once the Speaker’s clothing was drenched in his own blood, and the pungent smell of aether exhaustion leaked from him, Serena was about to request his concession for his own sake when he spoke first.

“I must… con—” It was all the man could get out before his body and mind reached their limits. He collapsed onto the floor, his aura shattering into a weak red, and with it, his communion of Harus breaking. Given the circumstances, he lasted a long time. A full two minutes after Serena Spoke Narean.

Serena and Korvus looked at his unconscious state in silence.

“Weak,” Korvus said.

Serena gave him a side-eye. “You needed my help.”

“Only this time. I will not lose the next time,” Korvus growled. “I only lose once.”

It took everything in Serena’s First-Word-empowered state not to roll her eyes.

“He conceded,” she said. “Even if he couldn’t get the words out. That’s enough for us. Enough for you, isn’t it? The petition has passed, at least until Asrar wakes up.” She didn’t know if the Ishaqian Speaker would try to interfere further once he’d recovered. Judging by Asrar’s aether exhaustion, Korvus and Menes would have at least half a week to provision and launch the search and rescue ships before anyone could stop them.

“We should take him,” Serena said. “It would be… indecent for a Speaker to be found in such a state. If Hillbrand looks after him, he might be less inclined to overreact when he wakes.” She looked at Korvus. “Are we done?” she asked.

Korvus only looked at her.

“You’ve improved,” he said. “That blue is decent, for you.” His eyes wandered over her shoulder. “I can see more of Narean’s black wings manifesting. They were mere shadows… before.”

Does he just want to talk a bit? Serena thought. Or is there…

“You were holding back,” she said, trying to humour him. She didn’t miss the dangerous glint in his eyes. It was something she’d seen many times on the battlefield. Korvus wasn’t done with fighting. Not yet. And within her, the part that was aligned with Narean wasn’t either.

“I can see more on you than just wings, Captain,” Korvus said. “They are well hidden, but I can see them. I remember their scent. The human has warded you, hasn’t she? She must be here…” Korvus looked around, as if expecting Amelia to pop up from a piece of rubble and wave hello. “She’s in Ishaq. I knew it. I sensed her at the docks. Is she hiding on the ship?” With the narrowing of his eyes, the tension in the room thickened to the consistency of a bitter soup.

“It’s of no concern to you,” Serena said.

“I have a debt to collect,” Korvus intoned, flaring his blue. “I only lose once.”

Serena laughed. She couldn’t help herself.

“Do you have any idea of the consequences that you would face if you harmed her, you madman?” Serena let her lips curl into a half-sneer. At this point, a fight with the mad dog was inevitable. The only decision Serena had to make was whether she wanted to appease or challenge him before combat began. “Fine then,” she said, brandishing her sword. She felt her hellfire balloon, the ethereal heat matching the hot blood pumping through her heart.

Narean was, after all, a warrior Word.

“Forcing votes for the petition?” Serena snapped. “An apology?” She shook her head. “What nonsense. You’ve been lucky to avoid my retribution for so long, Korvus Maranai. Come and let me give you the thrashing you—”

Korvus’ fist filling her vision cut her off. She dodged by a fraction of an inch and countered.

“If I beat you,” Korvus growled. “Then she would come, wouldn’t she? If I shatter those wards, she’d sense it. And when she does…” Korvus unleashed a furious assault, setting the tempo of the fight immediately. “I’ll defeat her and force her to renounce her titles! Lord-Prospect!” Serena dodged his fist, the attack going on to obliterate a pillar. “Saint!” he shouted. “Each one an insult to our Empire! A stain on our heritage!”

“You know what’s an insult?” Serena said, her feet and hands flowing. She moved forward, aiming to cut Korvus diagonally. Zenkutsu-daichi into keisa-giri. She twisted her body, entering kiba-daichi and launching a blue-empowered mune-tsuki. The Shimokan stab was parried by Korvus’ taloned hands, forcing her to adjust to her back stance, kokutsu-dachi, to defend. “Your mutiny!” she shouted.

She didn’t have a sidearm to blast Korvus’ face with, so she made do with the chunks of rubble, kicking marble and shattered jade at the Bayle Speaker when he got too close. Narean burned hot within her, but this time she was in control. The demonic warrior god's appreciation of a good duel and disdain towards Bayle matched Serena’s feelings perfectly. With every slash of her sword, a bit more of her suppressed anger escaped.

Whatever anger left her was seemingly absorbed by Korvus. The Northern Speaker was growing more and more rabid, throwing ever increasingly wild strikes at her. Speaker Asrar was unfamiliar with Korvus’ fighting style, but Serena had seen it hundreds of times. She knew how to keep her distance and let his momentum create gaps of opportunity.

She struck out at the next opening, not with her sword, but with her fist. Uraken-uchi. Back fist strike. She settled into the immovable stance, fudo-dachi, to absorb the retaliation. She danced from one attack to the next, mixing her stances and directions as best she could. Her movements were quick and sharp, fuelled more by instinct than obsession over making the perfect form. All the instruction she’d given to the squad at the academy about a real fight was validated here every second.

Just as she thought the battle of attrition would go her way, Korvus surprised her. He twisted one way and then flared his aura into a violent indigo. He slipped past her defence, smashing his fist into her chest with unexpected speed and power. It was possibly the most powerful attack she’d ever been dealt. One of Amelia’s wards shattered. The rest held, but Serena’s own blue rippled uncomfortably, threatening to send her convection wild.

In the back of Serena’s mind, she sensed some form of reaction from far away. Some kind of acknowledgement or reassurance was sent to her through the aetherfield. She instinctively knew what it meant.

Amelia was coming.

“One down,” Korvus growled. “This is—”

Serena whipped her tail at him. She’d been holding it back, waiting for the right opportunity. However, with Korvus going indigo, she had no reservations about waiting any longer. He dodged the tail swipe, which went on to turn a pillar into dust. Now that Serena was capable of manifesting blue, her hellfire tail had reached new heights of destructive power.

Parts of the ceiling started to collapse, their supports slowly being whittled away. Serena didn’t care; her thoughts were on the fight. The bloodlust of the demonic warrior god pushed aside all concerns of consequences. The only thing that mattered was getting her revenge against her idiot former commander. Getting her—

“Vengeance,” Serena hissed, launching a combined assault of fist, sword, and tail. With the addition of her hellfire limb, she was able to keep Korvus from overwhelming her, despite his sixth-level ferocity. Was this winnable? She wasn’t sure.

“Vengeance?” the Northerner replied. “No…” He tried to rush her, only to get a tail in the chest, throwing him backwards. He landed on his feet and continued, “This isn’t vengeance, Captain. Vengeance needs hate, and you don’t hate me. You might dislike me, but you don’t hate me. You are a demon. You can’t hate your own kind.”

“Semantics!” shouted Serena, cleaving through the floor, hurling great chunks of jade at the warrior before following up with a series of deadly stabs and slashes. “You were easier to talk to when you weren’t reading books!” She enjoyed the annoyed expression Korvus made.

If only her actual strikes were as effective as her taunts. Korvus’ indigo remained solid despite the assault upon it. Serena knew indigo was considered several times stronger than blue, but she expected to see some signs of aether exhaustion by now. What an awful talent Korvus was! No wonder the Northern Overlord intervened to prevent his execution; indigo warriors didn’t grow on trees.

The pressure from Korvus increased. His movement became faster than anything Serena had ever seen from him before, and the power of his strikes seemed to grow without limit. Just as it was with Asrar, Serena found her defence was failing more and more often. The smallest gap, the smallest hesitation, meant an indigo-powered fist would wreak havoc against her blue.

The Ishaqian sky darkened. An omen, perhaps, of the changing tide of the attrition war. Rain began to pour through the hole in the ceiling. Behind the downpour, storm clouds began to churn.

No, it’s not an omen, Serena thought. It’s…

A plan formed in her mind. Gritting her teeth, she put together another sequence of strikes. The wet floor made movement difficult, so she relied more on her tail. With every whip through the air, every nearby droplet of water was evaporated into steam, creating a wall of opaqueness that obscured their vision and made them rely on sensing each other through the aetherfield.

“Concede, Captain,” came Korvus’ voice through the steam.

Serena struck out with her tail, intentionally making the movement a bit too big, a bit too sloppy, and a bit too slow. Her plan worked, and she felt Korvus grab the hellfire limb. Letting him control her tail would normally be catastrophic, but in these circumstances, it was exactly what she wanted.

“She’s coming, isn’t she?” Korvus said, tightening his grip. The hellfire seemed not to affect him; its flames licked his indigo harmlessly. “I can’t wait. I—”

“Idiot,” Serena said, twisting her body and flaring her blue. “She’s already here.”

With everything she had, she launched her tail upwards. For something that weighed as much as Korvus, throwing it far was easy for a Speaker. With her physical attributes enhanced by a blue aura, she was able to launch her opponent high. In the two seconds it took Korvus to stabilise his movement by pushing his aether against the aetherfield, he’d cleared the chamber ceiling and was hovering more than a hundred metres above Serena.

Right below the storm clouds.

“Now, Amelia!”

The atmosphere hummed with electricity. Amelia activated her spell and the aetherfield erupted with aether. It was the exact spell Serena wanted. Something that couldn’t be linked to her characteristic Aseco. Something to overpower Korvus in one blow. Something to put him in recovery for a few days and form a memory that would always remind him that, yes, he had his fun, but now it was time to give up and let sleeping shawas lie.

Something only her demigod girlfriend could cast with a First-Word.

The seventh-circle spell, Taranis’Downpour.

Time to lose twice, Korvus, Serena thought, watching the distant figure become engulfed with aetheric lightning. It was a personal Amelia-generated apocalypse, all for Korvus. Alongside the thunderous booms that tore through the sky, there was so much aether drenching the area that small pieces of jade rose from the ground, hovering momentarily.

Taranis’ Downpour ended as quickly as it began. Amelia must have either modified the spell or cut it short, lest she wipe away much of Ishaq’s upper tier. The suspended pieces of jade fell to the ground, and with them, Korvus, who plummeted from the sky and back into the chamber. He was burned and broken, but alive. His aura had been shattered, no longer holding onto Bayle. He was unconscious, but, like all trained warriors, he managed to maintain a weak red.

That was good. It meant Serena didn’t need to bother catching him.

Amelia came down after him, grinning as if she’d just beaten Serena at backgammon and not defeated an indigo-capable warrior in one attack. It wasn’t just a smug grin she was wearing, but with it, a pair of ethereal horns, crackling with Taranis’ characteristic lightning. A pair of ghostly claws were layered over her hands, shimmering with a translucent aetheric blue.

Since when did Taranis have a melee component to his communion?

Amelia’s feet touched the floor. They looked at each other for a moment.

“Nice horns,” Serena said, glancing at the pair of very familiar-shaped horns.

“Thank you.” Amelia dipped her figure, making a polite curtsy that would have passed at the Golden Ball. “I manifested them myself.”

“They seem… inspired.”

“You’re imagining things.”

Serena smiled. “You did it again, didn’t you?”

“Mmm?”

“Speak silently. I mean,” Serena tapped her head, “in your head.”

“Yeah. It was harder with Taranis.” Amelia wrinkled her nose. “I need to practice. In the desert, maybe.”

“Your disguise is gone.”

“Hard to balance a second-circle glamour against a seventh-circle spell.”

“I suppose it is.”

As if on an invisible cue, they both turned and looked at the fallen body of Korvus. In that moment, the final storm cloud Amelia had summoned dissipated, letting the morning sun shine through the hole, perfectly framing where Korvus lay. Despite falling rather unceremoniously, the demon had ended up leaning against a pile of rubble, as if he’d finally been vanquished after a great battle.

It was a scene that would make a fine painting.

“I felt one of my weaker wards break,” Amelia said. “Even before then, I think I knew instinctively you were fighting. Feedback through the aetherflow, or something.”

“Where were you?”

“In the souk with Finella and Mel.”

“Finella?” Serena raised an eyebrow.

“Well…” Amelia rubbed her nose. “I initially invited only Mel, but then Finella sort of forced her way, talking some nonsense about the last time we were alone together, we caused some kind of chaos. Can you believe that?” Amelia gave her a sly side eye.

“You.”

“You?”

“You caused some kind of chaos. Don’t drag poor innocent Officer Mori into your shenanigans.”

Amelia laughed. “Well, I ducked into an alley and Spoke mentally. They saw me leave, but no one else did. I was pretty fast. Oh…” Amelia spotted the crumbled Asrar for the first time. Even with his unconscious, instinctive red, it was a miracle he hadn’t been injured further in Serena’s duel with Korvus.

Serena checked on the man, making sure his condition hadn’t worsened.

“Who’s that?” Amelia asked.

“Speaker Asrar.”

“First time I’ve seen another human Speaker,” Amelia mused. She leaned forward. “He’s bled a lot. Should I…?” She trailed off, letting the question linger.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” Serena went on to explain the events as quickly as possible: why Korvus Spoke Bayle, the battle with Asrar, and why they needed to let his recovery be as long as possible.

“Harus, huh?” Amelia kicked a piece of jade. “Looks like it was tough.”

“It was.”

“Was tough in the game as well…”

Distance footsteps tickled Serena’s ears. A small group of people had entered the palace, walking on the polished jade. She could sense the familiar signature of Menes approaching, along with another signature that seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“They’re coming,” Serena said. “Can you reform your disguise? You shouldn’t be implicated in this.”

“With this much aether in the atmosphere?” Amelia shook her head. “But…” She let go of her Word, her lightning horns and ghostly claws vanishing. “It does make something else easier.” Amelia looked down, frowning slightly. There was a sudden loud snap, the smell of burned toast, and Amelia vanished into the Shimmer.

“Useful,” Serena murmured, just as Menes and the small group made their way into their chambers. She looked at the arrivals, and it was then that she recognised whose slightly familiar aether signature it was.

“Bahar,” she intoned sweetly. “Kind of you to join.” Her sweet words and welcome had the opposite effect. Her favourite pincushion, along with Menes and what must have been a group of his loyal friends, froze in shock. They stared at her, their mouths opening but no sound coming out.

“My…” Menes stepped forward. “My sayyidah… Is this your Narean? It is beaut—”

“Stop gawking,” Serena interrupted. With a sigh, she released the communion. Her hellfire extinguished, her tail vanished, and her aura slipped back down to yellow. She breathed slowly, feeling the atmospheric aether replace Narean’s divine aether. Atmospheric aether always felt a little dirty after Speaking.

“Take Speaker Asrar and Speaker Korvus,” Serena instructed. “Bring them to the Vengeance. Don’t let the public see their state. Be discreet.” When Menes did nothing but blink, Serena encouraged, “Well?”

“Did… did you defeat them both, my sayyidah?” Menes asked, seemingly unable to know who to look at. Serena, Korvus, or Asrar.

“We had a disagreement,” Serena replied, sheathing her jade sword. She made a mental note to explore its capabilities further. It had held up fine in the fight. Perhaps it could replace her missing captain's sword?

Menes swallowed.

“Strong woman…” Bahar muttered.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Menes,” Serena said, trying to sound cheerful and not let the truth that, yes, this was something to worry about, slip.

“Take them…” Menes frowned. “To your ship?”

“To my medical officer, Hillbrand,” Serena said. “Tell her to treat them both discreetly.” Once she finally received a nod, Menes signalled for his men to collect her defeated opponents. Serena asked, “Have you seen where the council have run off to?”

“Outside, I think,” Menes answered. “A great crowd has formed, my sayyidah. I thought… I thought it was Rhaknam. That storm! But, it was only you…” The Arakian’s eyes widened, and he asked, “Or was it…?” The glint in Menes’ eyes told Serena that he’d already connected the dots to a particularly powerful friend of his. Menes coughed and gave instructions to his men.

“Right then,” Serena said to herself. Without a further word, she strode forward, leaving behind the devastation. Her instincts told her that Amelia was close, following her in the Shimmer. It was oddly comforting.

She exited the palace into a strange atmosphere. The great plaza surrounding the building was packed with Ishaqian citizens. There were perhaps ten thousand of them, demon and human alike. Instead of any great symphony of noise, there was a quiet murmuring going on. They saw her and whispered amongst themselves.

“Is that the Hellfire Captain?”

“Is it a coup?”

“What will happen?”

“I don’t know…”

They parted as Serena approached, swallowing her into the crowd. She kept her head high, her posture straight, and brought her aura down to a gentle red. She wasn’t in a position to answer and reassure the population. That would be Menes’ job.

For a brief moment, she thought she saw the woman named Ihra in the crowd, but she vanished in a flash. As she walked, Serena sent a few silent prayers to the Empress that everything would resolve as peacefully as possible, and a few more prayers that all the fallout would fall upon Korvus’ shoulders. In the midst of her thoughts, a voice rang out.

“Captain!”

It was Finella, flanked by Mel. They pushed through the crowd, running up to her.

“What—” Finella began.

“Go inside and help Menes with his tasks,” Serena instructed. She leaned in and whispered, “Korvus and Speaker Asrar are unconscious. It was difficult, but we got our votes. Tell Menes to handle the search and rescue mission. Korvus will be out of action for a while.”

Finella blinked. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Have you seen the Councillors?” Serena asked.

“We passed them.” Finella pointed over the crowd. “Figured something must have happened. I could hear them cursing something terrible. They’re in carriages. Moving slowly due to all the people.”

“Perfect.” Serena dismissed the two officers and continued through the crowd. It didn’t take long to find the carriages. They were moving at a crawl, their guards and drivers doing their best to part the crowd. Serena approached. The guards' faces dropped when they saw her. It was the same men who had blocked their entry into the chambers.

A glare was all it took.

Serena climbed into the first carriage, happy to find she had picked correctly. She sat down politely by Councillor Nasr and Councillor Samir. Secretary Marambe was also there, trying to make his girth as small as possible, pushing himself into the corner.

“Good morning,” Serena said.

Samir was the first to speak.

“What’s the point in having guards if they let anyone in?” he asked dryly.

“They’re not suicidal,” Serena pointed out.

“Isn’t laying down their life their job?” Samir retorted.

“Perhaps if you were decent enough men to earn that loyalty, it would be so,” Serena said. Ignoring Samir’s grumble, she pointed at Secretary Maramba. “Get out,” she ordered. “Unless you want to lose another arm.”

Maramba fled the carriage. It was amazing how quickly he could move with a bit of motivation.

“You too,” Serena said to Samir. She glanced at Nasr. “I need to have a talk with Councillor Nasr.” To Samir’s credit, he looked like he might refuse her for half a dozen seconds before slowly climbing out.

“Good luck,” he muttered to Nasr. “We really should ban foreigners from Ishaq…”

Once he left, Serena adjusted her seating so she sat opposite Nasr. The man had regained some of his dignity, with a fresh set of clothes. Someone had tidied his hair during the time the battle had been raging. Regardless, he had a weakness to him that Serena was happy to pry into. But first…

“Speaker Maranai’s actions were entirely of his own volition,” Serena said. “I swear on my honour, and name of House Halen, that I did not know. I would have advised him against it should he have shared his plan. I only ever intended to petition the Tasalsul and my greatlord should you foolishly refuse the petition.”

Nasr only looked back at her with cold eyes, with a dash of fear and anger.

It wasn’t enough. “You will be pleased to know I defeated Korvus in battle,” Serena continued. “Unfortunately, Speaker Asrar was also incapacitated. They are both unconscious and need several days to recover. I have ordered my officers to look after them. My medical officer is the finest medic in the Empire. This service will, of course, be provided free of charge.” She paused and then finished with, “Sayyid Menes will be taking the mandate your votes have graciously given him and begin the search and rescue mission for the Indefatigable immediately.” Serena tilted her head. “I apologise that things got ugly. I strongly advise that you put the matter of how your votes were gained aside and not disrupt this process.”

“...Or?” was all Nasr replied with.

“Or things will get ugly again,” Serena said plainly.

“I bet you feel powerful, making such implied threats,” Nasr said. “What can I do against such violence?”

“All power is exercised under the threat of violence,” Serena replied. “It’s how power works.”

“Poetic.”

Serena ignored his sarcasm. “I have some questions I want answered.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No.” Serena took a breath and asked, “What is your relation with Charles Hornford?”

Nasr frowned. “How do you know that man?”

“I encountered him at the Andalus Fortress. The contrast between his name and appearance stuck in my mind. While I’ve been here, I’ve heard rumours that you two were acquainted.” Serena paused. “How do you know him?”

“We are… acquainted.”

Serena clicked her tongue. “Why are you using him as an intermediary to hire the leader of the Crimson Reapers, Murakami Takeyoshi, to escort your ships through the Passage?” she asked directly. It was time to get answers for the document Noburu had recovered.

“Is that it?” Nasr asked. “Is that what you want to know?” He seemed to relax slightly. “Murakami Takeyoshi is a capable man. A dangerous man. Most importantly, he is a man for sale. Considering his… checkered past—”

“You mean that he’s on the run,” Serena said. “He is wanted in the East for smuggling.” She hesitated and added, “and for having darkblade connections.”

Nasr shrugged. “What happens thousands of kilometres away is of no concern to us. Ishaq has no greatlord to sanction an extradition. Only the Southern Overlord can do so. Takeyoshi is a legal citizen of Ishaq, Captain Halen.”

“You made him a citizen?”

“He paid well for the privilege.”

“You’re shameless.”

Nasr raised his hands. “I’m honest. You have me at a disadvantage.”

“I don’t believe it to be so simple,” Serena said. “What do your ships carry?”

“Spices, rubber, and alcohol,” Nasr answered. “And they’re not my ships. The contract you speak of is for Takeyoshi to protect ships leased to companies owned by…” Nasr looked awkward. “...Friends,” he said.

Serena resisted the urge to slap the man.

“And where does your purse get heavy in this?”

“A finder’s fee.”

“They all run the Passage?”

“Yes.”

Given the corruption she’d seen at the Andalus Fortress, she had no doubt these ships were being used to smuggle all kinds of illicit goods. Likely, it was through these ships that the black crystal was snuck into Ishaq in the first place.

“These leased ships,” Serena began, “do these include the ships of the Ishaqian military?” The look in the councillor's eyes told her all she needed to know. “For Empress’ sake, man,” she said. “Is that why you were so unwilling to sanction a search and rescue? You feared your purse getting heavier at a slightly slower rate?”

“Ishaq isn’t so simple,” Nasr replied. “You look at the five of us on the council and think we control everything. There are factions in Ishaq, dozens of them, and most of them have their horns dirty. The Ishaqian Navy is one of those factions, and if they’re seen as getting too powerful, or we’re too favourable to them, then it won’t be long till we find a knife in our backs!”

Serena gave him a look that she hoped communicated the exact amount of pity she was feeling. She had no sympathy for those in power who refused to handle corruption. She’d seen it in play in the Asamaywa lowlands and ever since she’d had a bitter taste in her mouth whenever she thought of the exiled Lord Kanamori.

“And the Blackhorn?” she asked. “What do you know about him?”

“I know better than to get my horns twisted by him.”

“You know who he is?”

“No.”

“Ever met him?”

“No.”

“Hmm…” Serena tapped the seat thrice. “Half of Ishaq believes he’s nothing more than a ghost story. You seem to know he’s real. What do you know about him?”

“I don’t ask,” Nasr said. He seemed to understand that it wouldn’t be enough for Serena, so he added quickly, “I’ve only ever heard rumours. You hear things, here and there…”

“Like?”

“He came from the desert,” Nasr said. “A great warrior. A man who wants his own empire. They say he carries a weapon of black smoke and can kill a man by looking at them. That’s all I know.”

It didn’t seem like he was lying.

“His rumoured flagship, the Chameleon,” Serena said. “It must make land somewhere. It’s a big ship. It would need a well-equipped dock. Have you ever seen a black ship dock in Ishaq?” She tapped the hilt of her sword. “Don’t lie now, Councillor.”

Nasr swallowed. “I have not.” He looked to his left.

“...But?”

“But there is a rumour,” he said slowly. “Of a black ship that docks at night on the outskirts of Shiloh. Only in the dark, and it’s always gone by morning. Some Treki dockworkers whisper about it, claiming to have seen it when they worked up there.”

Shiloh? Serena thought. It was a small plateau city, shunted between the Salaban mountains to its west and the Shattered Isles to its east. It was only really known for its Shiloh coffee and as a stopping point for those taking the Centralis way to Ishaq.

A course of action began to form in her mind.

She continued to question Nasr, but gained no more useful information. Ending the conversation, she began to climb out of the carriage, much to the councillor's relief. Then she paused and turned back.

“The council chambers are largely destroyed,” she said. “Your elevated seating is in rubble. When you rebuild, I suggest you bring down your chairs to the level of everyone else.”

“...Why?” Nasr asked.

“Because if you spend your time looking down on people, without the violence to back it up,” Serena tapped her sword, “it’s only a matter of time before someone who can will do something about it.”

She left the carriage, leaving him to stew on her words.