The Spire of Amalur has many names. Most Amalurians simply call it the Spire. Academics and nobles refer to it by its fae name, Croí Amalur, or Heart of Amalur. Those in the know, either politically, socially or simply having overheard in hushed tones in the right tavern, called it Túr an Córas. Tower of the Cosmos. Alyn wasn’t a fan.
She understood why it had earned that name. Chulán was a Summerson, the Radiant Host bore a lot of iconography related to the sun and stars and her Shaded Shields often bore stars and the moon upon their regalia. Therefore, the center of their power and the power of Amalur being named after the realm in which the Sun, Moon and Stars resided was code for those who knew who really ran Fiáin Nua. Sure, the High Table had its members and each Chair, their domains. But the Host held Amalur and the Shield held her sibling-cities. To those who fancied themselves intellectuals, those who liked to brag about their wide sphere of knowledge at the various social gatherings in the Sun District, the Lord-Commander and Grand Marshall were King and Queen of Fiáin Nua. Alyn really wasn’t a fan.
The optics weren’t in her favor, however. Her sister was Chair of Whispers. The Wardens of two of the three cities were close allies and Lahdia… well, she was of the Shade, in her own way. Alyn had tried to be more public with her work than Chulán, who preferred simply signing documents and working over maps and blueprints. Alyn was seen patrolling with the Shield in Amalur, fighting Keltainen where they appeared to assault smaller villages and, when the mood took her, attending the various balls and gatherings the Houses of Amalur threw. She tried to enjoy them, as best she could, but her brief moments of downtime were spent training. She reads books, sometimes. They tended to be historical texts written over the past century of Amalur’s history, to keep it fresh in her mind. She saw what centuries of constant battle and conflict had done to Chulán, how it slowly chipped away at his psyche even if he tried to hide it. She had no plans to follow in his footsteps.
At this moment, she was standing in her office. It was sparser than Chuláns, which wasn’t a challenge in fairness, but she liked to keep things minimalistic. Old habits from days in tents behind enemy lines. The bare essentials. She did keep a few keepsakes around, though. Besides the massive, magical map of Amalur on one wall, her old Scoutmaster armor sat on a mannequin in the corner of the side of her desk. She did miss the simple leathers sometimes. Her Grand Marshall attire was gorgeous and she did love it for what it wa. On occasion, though, she’d find herself staring at it and wishing to simply be out in the wild, nothing but her wits and bow standing between her and whatever wished her ill.
She was antsy. The official declaration of cooperation between Amalur and Baldur’s Gate should’ve happened by now. She was fiddling with a ring on the middle finger of her left hand. She did so often when she was stressed or worried, reminding herself of her options. No word yet from Chulán though.
She knew Perrit had concerns of a potential attack and Alyn had sent word to her agents in Falian to be on guard but reports hadn’t come back for a day or two now. She almost left the city herself had it not been for Chulán’s reassurance. He’d be fine, he said. He’d survived many attempts on his life and would survive many more to come. Besides, Perrit and Xaelis would travel to Falian too and Perrit refused to be anywhere but at Chulán’s side. Both were more than capable, if a bit unorthodox in their methods. Alyn wasn’t one to criticize, however. She had made her fair share of unorthodox plans in the past. Sometimes a bit of chaos helped balance the stubbornness of the Blade of Summer.
And yet.
Niaran was still in the wind. The child of a newly ascended Goddess, vanished. A Goddess of Ambition, no less, and one with her own sordid history. Hestia Keahi wasn’t unknown to the Courts, even before the Upending of Amalur. The Flame Matriarch, the First Eefriti. Queen of Flame and Lord of Cinder. She had many titles and probably made sure to remind those who sought her aid of all of them. Alyn had tried piecing together a profile on her but it was slow going. The Genasi Quarter in the Sun District was tough to pierce and the Fire Genasi even more so in recent years. Understandable, when the closest thing they had to a ruler or patron saint had become divine. Not all the Fire Genasi were fans of Hestia and lesser were those who supported her ascension. And now her heir apparent was gone. Alyn had hoped to befriend her for multiple reasons. The simple, selfish one was Nyloth spoke of her often and with glowing praise. Alyn wanted to know the woman behind her newest and best agent, who clearly provided him with so much drive. The more political answer, which made her skin crawl. Sure, Perrit was her best lead on Tharingall and all he held secret and close. Xaelis was an unknown entity entirely but their enquiries into the nature of Fiends and the Greenfangs of old were notable for their contrasting fields of study. Niaran, however, well… When your mother ascends to godhood, you tend to draw eyes. Alyn had hoped those eyes would see her by the side of the Shield, as much as she hated that thought process. If she could, she’d drop everything and be out in the field searching for her alongside Nyloth. She owed him that much.
She did appreciate the training alongside Perrit, however. Unorthodox as it was, it was good to be tested with new problems once more. So much of her recent years were spent merely maintaining what they had already gained. Having something fresh to work with was.. Well, refreshing. There was something deeper there, though. She hadn’t pinned down what, but she planned to dig a bit deeper into Tharingall’s favored agent once she returned.
Xaelis was her favorite mystery. She had spent plenty of time theorizing what the tieflings' connection to everything was. A natural bond with Fiáin Nua itself? Some reincarnated Fianna, returned home? Maybe an unwitting agent of the Hells, the newest in a long line of attempts by those below to claim power on the island? Alyn planned to find out.
The doors to Alyn’s office flung open. Cara rushed in.
“Sister, I don’t know… I’ve been fooled. Talon’s have infiltrated Falian. The meetings in danger”
Alyn spun around.
“How long?”
“Weeks, maybe months. I’m unsure. I’ve only just received credible information. They’ve fed us so many red herrings that the truth was lost in the chaos. Astray in-”
“A maelstrom”
Thanquel.
Alyn pulled herself from thoughts of those new arrivals who’d thrown so much chaos into her life and turned her mind towards an old problem. Her partner (in business, she reminded herself. “One time. One singular time”) needed her aid. He could handle any assault. Falian would stand. She just hoped he could protect its people.
“Get your birds ready to fly, Cara. We’re going to need all the information we can. Movements, numbers, actions and lack thereof. Chulán and Fellheart can handle Falian, they’re strong enough alongside the Corsairs and Shieldstar. If the Talons are making moves elsewhere, I want to know about it. We need to find out how deep this rot goes and who spreads it.”
“Of course. Alyn, I-”
“Cara. Apologies and justifications later. Right now, I need my Whisperer.”
A deep breath. Closed eyes. When they opened, her spymaster stood before her, resolute.
“Right away, Grand Marshall. The guilds will have heard something, I’ll find out what. Shall I contact Warden Swiftshot through our usual channels?”
“Please. If she knows something, we need to know what. I doubt she’s allied with the Talons but..”
“Guarantees”
“Precisely”
Cara gave a curt nod and turned to leave.
“Cara”
“Yes?”
For the briefest of moments, Alyn allowed herself to drop the mask of the Grand Marshall. She rushed to her sister and simply held her. Cara, as much of an introvert as she was, made an exception for her sister and returned the embrace.
“It’s happening now, isn’t it Sister?”
Alyn pulled away and held her younger sister’s face.
“I think so.”
“Lysander would be beyond jealous of us.”
Alyn laughed. “He’d probably already be riding to hunt down some Talon captain by himself”
Cara smiled. It was a rare sight outside this office.
“You’ve worked hard, Alyn. Prepared. Sacrificed. We can do this.”
“I know. I just… I worry for the cost.”
“I won’t allow you to lose yourself to this. I swear.”
“You better not. Who else is going to cover for you when you miss meetings. Sleeping in.”
“A favor I am ever indebted to you for.”
Alyn gave her sister a brief kiss on the forehead and the Grand Marshall returned.
“Go. We’ve much to prepare for.”
Cara turned and left, vanishing in the shadows beyond Alyn’s office door.
Alyn turned to the map on the wall. All these years solidifying their position, pushing back the Talons and soon, it may all fall apart.
Maybe it was time to throw some chaos in the mix.
Commentaires