OEW

Out of boredom, Orison started fidgeting with the orbit of the black crystals in his space. Though they had grown in number they still kept a circular trek around the empty space where new ones appeared. Putting single ones back in the middle, they would stay there for awhile before drifting back out into the orbital ring.

When he took the two crystals that belonged to the mages he killed and placed them back in the middle at the same time, something strange happened. Instead of drifting back out, they stuck together like weak magnets. Taking the other Ashlander ones that gave him large crystals as well, indicating at least a small amount of magic potential, and forced them to rub and slide against each other with the mage ones. As he watched, a sharing of the magnetic quality occurred.

The longer they slid against each other the more magnetism they produced until they started sticking instead of sliding. Eventually, Orison had to use stronger amounts of will and even bare trickles of magic to manipulate them to continue sliding. Think it was an interesting way to train sustained control, Orison put it on autopilot while attempting other tasks. In the middle of hand walking, Captain Nadir came in and caught Orison, causing the boy to crash into a tray table that was thankfully empty.

Red faced and acting nonchalant, Orison said, "What's up?"

Struggling to keep stony professionalism, Nadir said, "Madam Fvaris has been granted leave to speak with you, in private. As a concession, both your mother and I will be waiting outside the room in the event you may need us. Exercise as much prudence and decorum as you are able, legate-in-training."

Nadir led the boy to Droya's personal office where she and the most physically intimidating Ashlander Orison had ever seen, were waiting. Judging by Droya's nervousness and the barely contained hostility within the Ashlander guard, it must have been a rough meeting. Drawing from Nadir's calm reassurance, Orison stepped in and the Ashland guard closed the door behind him.

With the extreme, if contained, emotions of his mother and the Ashland guard, Orison hadn't expected to set sights on a kind and gentle looking granny. As they locked eyes, Orison's evaluation did a 180 as he gazed into cold, glassy and emotionless orbs. Images of creepy dolls and sharks flit through his head as he made a formal bow and was gestured into the visitor's seat. Trying hard to give her the benefit of doubt he didn't think for an actual moment she deserved, Orison forced himself to ignore the irritation of seeing this old monster sitting in his mother's chair.

The dowager gave Orison a warm smile that never reached the stygian abyss of her eyes, as she said, "Since it's just the two of us, young man, you may call me Granny Xia if you like. It would gladden my weary heart if you did."

"You have one of those?" Orison thought.

Giving the most angelic smile he was capable of, equally insincere, he said, "Oh, that would be nice, Granny Xia. I don't remember my own grandmother but I hope she was as amazing as you are."

The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened in a parody of delight as she said, "A natural charmer and so talented for such a tender age. One might almost think you were an old Master Mage who stole a youth's body."

Orison inwardly cringed, desperately hoping the old witch hadn't noticed anything, then said after a nauseating giggle, "Granny Xia, you must like fairytale stories too. I hope I can be as full of life when I'm a grandpa. The other jealous grannies probably whisper bad things behind your back all the time, like that you practice forbidden necromancy and other nonsense. But don't worry, Momma Yaya tells me it's bad to repeat gossip, especially ones that would cause people to poke into other's private lives."

In a moment that passed so fast that Orison was almost convinced it was his imagination, Dowager Fvaris' smile seemed brittle as she said, "It's good to heed your elders. It's told to our children from a young age that loose mouths will cause illness and disease to fly in and that the ancestors will spirit bad children away."

When Orison readied himself to make a witty riposte, his chest felt tight and hot for a second before returning to normal. Thinking of yet another morning of greasy and barely edible sausage he had that morning he readied himself to speak again.

In a convincing parody of concern, the old woman asked, "Is something the matter, dear?"

With a great deal more genuineness than he meant to, Orison said, "You'd think a kid wouldn't have to worry about indigestion but I swear, if I get served Centerland style greasy clot sausages one more morning in a row, I'm going vegetarian."

The old lady snorted, "Good luck with that. The only greenery that's growing around us in abundance right now are grass and weeds."

Astonished, Orison said, "Are you serious!? I don't have a lot I can compare it to but the surrounding sea in this area has more prolific and edible plant life than I can easily count on my fingers and toes! That volcano of yours may have done a number on the land but it's enriching of the soil, both above and below sea level, will turn this place into the apex capital of agriculture in a year or two. Given, you'll have to invest heavily in hearty trees to make windbreaker lines and plenty of labor into irrigation of your natural rivers to get better spreads of continual moisturized soil during dry spells but..."

As the minutes trickled by, an irritated boyish exclamation filtered out of the room. "You can fact check every word I have said about these three oil producing trees in THAT SAME BOOK by the Vale geomancer you just quoted!"

When the Ashlander guard opened the door in angry concern, Xia glared at him and said, "Did I shout for rescue, fool? No, don't close the door on me! Get my worthless Grandniece to bring me the archipelago map and my stationary."

Twenty minutes later, Orison peeked his head out and said, "Mom, can I get a pot of black tea and some of the seaweed wrapped crackers. I know that we haven't gotten it quite right but she can get the gist fro-"

Xia cut in, "And a pillow. How can you tolerate sitting in this travesty of an office chair? It's torture."

A little over an hour after that, ten minutes after midday meal was served, Dowager Fvaris came hobbling stiffly out of the room and said back at Orison, "Your incessant drivel about the negatives of slave based economy has given me a headache but I'll grant you two points. History does support it's not usable indefinitely so I'll compromise with thought on redemption practices. And it's true that a minimum fair wage practice with this 'migratory visa' combination would be more cost effective after we work out the wrinkles over security issues but don't expect things to change quickly.

"Legate Droya, the fishery is no longer a point as long as your son comes to New Fvaris for a few days to help some fisher teams learn how to 'sea farm'. Mainly because I'll need that crew of malcontents to start a- sea mustard was it, Orison?- bed. As far as the embassy issue goes, I'll draft a letter along the lines of accrediting some agricultural merits to your son as the reason for desiring the promotion but say that until I get a trained Legate who I can thoroughly trounce fairly, further long-term negotiations will have to wait. To be clear, that means New Fvaris will only accept information and trade documents that cross your desk. Learn to enjoy your post office status, dear. Politics will only make you old before your time."

Droya curtsied gracefully and said, "I greatly appreciate your understanding, Dowager Fvaris."

Xia nodded crisply and said, "Send me a draft of your seed stock. I'll only give you half again as much as purchase and shipping cost you but you won't have to embarrass yourself by negotiating with clans that'll only look down on you or the Empire traders coming later. They'll eat you alive, girl."

As soon as the old woman left, Droya pounced into the office and said, "Orison, I could have gotten double what she offered. Doubtless, the first shipments that arrive will get even more. Why did you tell her?"

Orison smiled and said mischievously, "Because they won't. The Ashlanders would only pay those ridiculous prices because they have to start farming now or start starving in a few months when the fish schools shift. Further north on the island, if they can survive the trip and not be robbed outright, risking disease and disasters, they might get that price...

"Oh wait, that's right. A certain court mage has a Northland feudal lord already funding a large caravan. The Ashlanders that live up there have endured under the graces of the High King much better and think of Northlanders fondly. Even the Revivalists wouldn't cause problems to a benefactor for no reason. That's why the Ashlander attack against us was so shocking.

"Those poor merchants are going to be selling at standard purchase costs, eating shipping, or take it all back home. Her price to you was a kickback. Half of their new targets for cultivation lies on their own islands, the others they'll be negotiating with the Emerald Vale for. But poor me, all I'll get credit for is showing them which seaweed is not only edible but tasty, spurring them to make more discoveries and staving off impending famine. In gratitude for my minor assistance that led to such a wealth of bounty, they'll assent to New Fvaris hosting an embassy that they will name after you by my request."

Droya grumbled, "You could have been rich as a king if you had doled out your 'minor' assistance a little more frugally."

Turning serious, Orison said, "Having too much is just as bad as not having enough. We'll get plenty in time but we can't have more than we have the ability to protect. Besides, Clan Fvaris owes us. If they conveniently forget that fact, then they WILL remember in three or four years from now."

Droya's eyebrows raised as she asked, "Why is that, Orison? From what I've seen and learned, the favor of the powerful is easily lost."

Orison leaned in and whispered, "What grows well today will not be so forever. They were cultivators before but they'll be working with new plants and trees that have different needs and though I was subtle about it, when they figure out the need, they'll remember who to find for answers." Orison stepped back and continued, "But who cares if they never need to seek me again? We don't have to keep a book of accounts with every group we help behind the scenes. We just need to shower the ones who appreciate us with more to appreciate."

Droya sighed and looked at Orison with worry, "Little cub, I'm deathly afraid you are going to be abducted one day and that will be the end."

Orison said, "I have yet to show someone anything they couldn't find themselves if they knew where to look with the exception of family. I don't mind if family abducts me! Well, I did slip a little with Gerrald but it wasn't that bad... I guess I did take a few chances I shouldn't have and if I push my luck too far there's always the chance that... I'll be a little more low key."

The mother and son went over all that had happened in each of their individual meetings. After taking some time to give constructive criticisms and suggestions to each other, the topic turned to Orison's unavoidable trip to New Fvaris. Inevitably, that led to the inclusion of Nadir. A round table of back and forth that nearly took an hour came to a sudden close as Captain Nadir took control and laid it out in a way that brooked no argument. At least, that's what he expected until Droya got a few more shots in before relenting.

Captain Nadir summarized, "So, out of the two to five day deadline to arrive at New Fvaris, Orison has decided to wait until the last comfortable minute of morning on day five to leave and won't consider leaving earlier. No better time frame for return can be considered beyond a minimum of five days and a maximum of three weeks. Finally, disregarding much better choices, you have grudgingly accepted Specialist Cray as security detail to accompany you and Rithus...

"So be it. But at least try to get to know the elder Tulius brother a bit better before I set Cray in stone to go with you. After saving his little brother's life, he's the first one to fly off the handle if anyone so much as says your robe's wrinkled. And if he'd been around for either of the incidents that has you so at odds with my men, they simply wouldn't have happened."

Orison said, "Is he patient and attentive enough to mind a roasting pit?"

Confused, Nadir said, "I don't see the relevance but he's pulled off his canteen duties without issue."

Orison said, "Alright. Have him grab the sack of heating rocks tomorrow morning. He can come with me and Rithus to the west beach. I'm going to be spending the next couple of days collecting samples and looking for alchemy ingredients. I'm afraid if I keep pulling Cray away from training and duties to run errands for me, the others are going to get jealous without realizing just how much he envies them."

Cunning shined through Nadir's stony look as he said, "What kind of ingredients do you hope to find on the west beach?."

Orison replied dryly, "The main ingredient for enduring breath potions, mostly. You know, the one that costs a ridiculous amount to buy since Mort- It's Obsidian Isles now, isn't it?- Since it's been nearly impossible to acquire the last ten years."

Nadir cracked a faint smile and said, "And the security unit can expect a portion of your findings?"

Droya cut in with a predatory gleam, "Of course, Captain Nadir. One third raw materials isn't out of the question. Charges for alchemist processing and secondary materials shouldn't end up biting too deep into allotted operation loan funds if you want a finished product."

Orison chimed in with an innocent smile, "He could always just trade the materials unprocessed, mom... Captain Nadir, do you have those really expensive containers that preserve sensitive herbs? Otherwise they won't shelf long enough for the merchants to arrive, much less take them back."

Nadir's face went back to stoniness as he said, "Alright. I deserved that but could you have a thought towards kicking a reasonable benefit back to the men. Soon we'll both be better staffed but as soon as Logistics sees anything coming through the consul, they start looking for ways to carve costs. The local legate frequently find themselves holding light payroll bags because Centerland knows their positions afford them the ability to make personal profit. Logistics turns a blind eye but hits the soldier's operation funds expecting you to make the difference. Please don't make my men disappointed again."

Droya faced Nadir stiffly and said, "We ARE the payroll. We'll already be making up the difference for what is, most assuredly, not enough to address back pay when the envoy arrives...I know you're talking about the future but face the present first, Captain. We are deep in the red providing for your men. Don't start getting antsy at the first sign of potential gains. I can discuss bonuses and additional benefits with you when my son and I are back in the black... The account book is yours to peruse whenever you have a free moment during operation hours. Full transparency is yours... A warning, bring a handkerchief. It wouldn't do for the men to see your tears."

Mother and son, tired from their ordeal of the day, retired early. As Orison was about to drift off to sleep, he checked on the rubbing crystals to find that they had fused together. Towards the center of the fusion, inside a glowing heat, lied a speck of icy yet opalescent 'eternium' blue.