I Will Tell You Everything (Milo)

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

When Valanthia had returned from Arakmat, she had tried to make inquiries about all of her friends and family. Of most of them, she received no word back. She had thought it possible that Milo was still in Prime, or even that he'd come back to Ieffreon, but he didn't seem to be in either place. No one she spoke to had seen him at any point in the last several eras. Val had given him up for dead, assuming that time had been as unkind to him as it had been to Aelyria in general.

Maybe it was the stress of everything that had happened since she woke up alone in the Arakmat desert, but it wasn't until Val was in Ziel Aerca that she remembered the name of that island that Milo had once owned part of. Chelseanna. Though she expected nothing to come of it, she sent some feelers out to figure out what had happened to Milo's estate, at any rate -- more from a sort of morbid curiosity than anything else.

Well, it turns out that what had happened to Milo's estate was that he'd been living on it for the entire time.

He'd been keeping an awfully low profile, it seemed, which explained to some extent why she hadn't been able to find any information before. But he was definitely there.

Once Val's business in Ziel Aerca was concluded, she had rushed back to Eunesia as quickly as she could possibly go. She hadn't even stopped back at Coral Shore -- rather, she'd located a fishing boat willing to take her (and her extremely large canine companion) to Chelseanna, paid the fare, and headed straight there.

Now here she was, on the final approach to Villa Parádeisos, which glinted golden in the sunlight. With the beach in front of it, and the acres of trees around it, it looked like a place out of a storybook. In a strange way, this trip, which was taking her to a place of luxury where lived the brother she hadn't seen in eras, reminded her of that first time in Taralon, so long ago. She had not known how she would be received then, and though she certainly trusted Milo, she wasn't sure exactly what she would find in Chelseanna now. Once again, she was walking into the unknown.

The boat deposited her at her destination, and Val took her first steps onto the shore. For this visit, she had dressed down -- simple boots, a knee-length black skirt, and a blue top. Other than the fact that she now wore her hair down, rather than tied up beneath a headscarf, and that she was in much better athletic shape these brightenings, she looked almost no differently than she had in Taralon. She was already half-elven, and between the age-slowing effects of being Sanguine, and the fact that she'd been in a place outside of Time itself for ten eras, Val still had the appearance of a young woman barely out of adolescence. The world-weariness in her grey eyes might hint at the facts being different, but one had to be looking to notice it.

Umbrosus padded softly beside her. Val had not notified Milo that she would be coming, at least in part because she didn't know what to say in a medium as formal as a letter. She scanned the beach, looking for anyone who might be able to point her in her brother's direction.

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

It wasn't very often that anyone opted for the private shore side approach to Villa Parádeisos. Except for members of the family in residence, of course. Less frequently, any one of a few local merchants, fishermen or farmers who had prearranged business there. More recently, a local seamstress just over from the mainland had attempted the beach side approach, all the while hauling along bolts of cloth for the former monarch's daughters to inspect, and other seamstress-ing odds and ends along with them. The poor woman, new to the damp heat of the Eunesian summer or really, roughing it at all, had arrived at the top of the rise winded, formerly perfectly coiffed hair plastered to her sweaty brow. She had a scraped knee, she'd lost a bolt of silk along the way and had opted not to chase it back down. And she'd never come back.

Rarer still, those known the family might have chosen to take that route with a social call in mind. There hadn't been many of those over the past decade, either by chance or design. Added to that, the property, also by design, occupied a remote and private location, and whether one went at it through the main gate or up a long, steep and somewhat treacherous way, it was never leisurely going. The sets watching eyes positioned on the hillside or from the trees lining the beach were probably the least discomforting of all.

But if anyone was watching at all from atop the rise, from all appearances none of them had come to the conclusion, just yet at least, that Val and her oversized canine companion, were a danger so obvious and imminent as to have acted immediately. As it happened though, she probably wouldn't be needing to ask anyone. The shoreline was a winding one, and once she'd rounded a particular curve, if she'd ever had occasion to see or witness the thing in action, she'd have spotted a familiar site, just offshore.

The airship while in operation had been capable of carrying thirty passengers in total. If, by chance, one could convince thirty said individuals to climb on board at all. They could hardly have been blamed for their worry or skepticism. This was a craft that had never once sailed the seas, but glided through the air so gracefully that the sensation was akin to having lassoed and harnessed the wind. A living, breathing, thinking thing. But now there it was, half submerged and listing slightly out to sea.

A monument to a time gone by, perhaps. Or some might dare say, judging by it's current predicament, a visible epitaph. Whichever it was, there was a floating platform bobbing in the water beside it, and a small rowboat tethered there.

At any rate, all was not lost. New life had already begun taking hold and thriving on the sunken portion of the craft's hull, just below the surface of the water. And as for the part left to the open air, there was plenty of life to be found there. Usually it was seabirds and other creatures that spent as much of their time out of the water as in. But on this particular day, Val would first hear two human voices locked in ceaseless, impatient banter up on the airship's deck, and then eventual she'd catch a glimpse of the quarrelsome pair. Two youngsters. A tall and wiry boy of thirteen with a mop of medium brown hair. And a young girl, perhaps eleven with cascading golden locks spilling down her back.

The boy was shirtless and wore trousers roughly cut off at the knees. The girl however was dressed in an oversized, sagging dress; it resembled an old silken ballgown pulled over more appropriate clothing. She wore an ill fitting 'crown' on her head, cockeyed off to the side, fashioned from stiff paper with entirely too many 'jewels' of paste stuck on. Rioughe was probably responsible for that. Gloriana would have made a much better job of it all.

Milo would have preferred that neither of them should encourage or indulge this obsession of hers at all. Madeline had been far too young to have even remembered life in the palace. The last time she'd been in the throne room, she'd only just come up on her hands and knees and had been crawling and playing beneath his seat while he'd held court. But then again, as missus Stromb had so recently informed him, many a small girl entertained visions of grown up into princess-dom. Rich and poor alike, common and noble. It was perfectly normal, and she'd outgrow it.

Nontheless..."I am too a princess, Owen! And you're the captain. You're not bowing right!" And to emphasize her point, Madeline formed her otherwise small and delicate hand into a fist, and delivered a surprisingly impressively left hook to her brother's shoulder. "You're not a princess Maddie...Hey, stop it! I'm telling Nana," he insisted; because apparently missus Stromb was the better choice for this sort of thing than their father...and measurably more so than their grandfather; before each of them stopped short, having noticed that while they were never truly alone or left unattended on this beach, they had company.

They both turned, curiously looking Val over, along with her beast. Madeline straightened her crown. "Hello," Owen called out from the deck and across the water, mostly curious but with a small dose of suspicion in his voice. "I'm Owen. Who are you? Have you come to see father? Is he expecting you?" He'd only have been three or so himself the last time he'd been at the palace and wouldn't have recognized Val. The question was whether or not she'd recognize him.

Nonetheless, the boy moved slightly in front of his sister in the presence of an unknown, falling into the role of protector, which he believed was his due and duty. Though said sister quickly made her displeasure known by shouldering him aside. She was young, mostly elbows, knees and pointy shoulders. Owen wouldn't have been able to stop her making friendly with strangers, had he even bothered to try. "I'm Maddie. I like your dog. What's his name?" she called out.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Val did remember the airship; at one point, not long before her disappearance, she and that saurid -- Pescado? -- had been on their way to do reconnaissance to the west, before bad weather had turned them back, and she'd seen the airship then. That it now lay largely beneath the waves both saddened her and seemed fitting. She remembered the dreams of that time -- remembered them better than most, given how little time had intervened for her personally. So many of them unfulfilled, left now to rot at the bottom of a metaphorical ocean.

She heard the children before she saw them, and she saw them before she recognized them. Though she could see the family resemblance, she wasn't sure she would have been able to place them had they not conveniently used their names when introducing themselves. They had been so small when she had seen them last, and she felt a deep pang of regret in her heart. They should know exactly who Val was; they should have casual jokes, shared reminisces, stories and memories and secret joys. Instead, she stood before them a stranger.

"Serale," she said quietly. "I...yes, I'm here to see your father, though he...won't be expecting me. I'm..." Her voice trailed away as she tried to think of how to describe herself. She had no idea what, if anything, the children knew of her, and she didn't want to alarm them, or place the whole weight of her return to the land of the living on them. "An old friend. We used to...to work together."

It was fascinating to see them, the way that they had started to grow into themselves. Owen's protectiveness of his sister, even when she'd just been driving him crazy, reminded her of Milo, and something in Maddie's forwardness and refusal to follow her older brother's orders brought Nikki to mind. They were, she was sure, their own people, with their own hopes and dreams and talents, but the echoes of the family line were definitely present in this generation.

"I like your crown, Maddie," she added. "This is Umbrosus." The massive canine said nothing, but dipped his head in what looked almost like a gesture of respect. "You can call me...Val."

Val brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was almost shoulder-length now -- shorter than Val usually wore it, but she had cut it all off while fleeing Arakmat, and it hadn't fully recovered yet. "Would you happen to know if...if your father is in?" The words felt silly as she said them. She should have written, have said something and let Milo know she was coming. But there wasn't anything to do about it now. She smiled at the niece and nephew that she barely knew, though the melancholy remained at the corners of her eyes.

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

It was true that due to the passage of time and sets of circumstances too numerous and complicated to keep track of, Valanthia was as good as a stranger to the two children on the deck of the Hannah II. But while Owen appeared somewhat invested in quickly uncovering this new woman's identity, in a serious take charge sort of way, Madeline was measurably more interested in the enormous canine at Val's side, and how they'd ended up together. She was the most whimsical and imaginative of the three L'Evienne children, at times to the point of incorrigible. And already he was conjuring up all sorts of fantastical possibilities in her head.

"Father's working up the in the olive groves," Madeline announced, and Owen shh-ed and elbowed her, to which she glared and elbowed him right back. "That's a funny name," she carried on, failing several times to repeat and pronounce the creature's name properly. But then she smiled proudly and straightened her crown in response to the compliment. "Thank you! Grandfather made it for me. He says it's the best kind of crown. Hannah says that father used to have a crown too, but that he likes his old hat better."

Madeline's tone implied that there was no comprehending why anyone would prefer a smelly old hat to an honest to goodness crown. Nonetheless, when Val introduced herself, Owen stepped forward a little, having already failed to silence his younger sibling, and gave Val a closer look, over the short stretch of water between them. "Val?" He'd overheard Rioughe and his father talking about Val..or not exactly that way. But now he'd thought about it, grandfather had once mentioned a very large wolf at her side. "You mean aunt Valanthia?"

Assuming she agreed that that was just who she was, Owen ushered Madeline to the rail, urged her over to the rope ladder at the rail and began climbing down. "Father and grandfather have been wondering where you were for a long time. The stairs are over there in that big bunch of trees," he added, pointing to a spot not far to the left of where Val was standing. "You can get a head start if you want to. We'll catch up," he added as his feet finally found the wood platform where the boat was tied. "It takes a bit to get up there, it's steep and someone up there's probably noticed you and Umbrosus already, and maybe gone to get father."

Either way, it looked like Val and Umbrosus would be starting that climb alone. But as it happened, there'd been several sets of eyes looking on from above. There always were, except in this case one of those sets of eyes belonged to a security member who'd been with the family long enough to be aware of what things to look for, should any missing members of said family come wandering home. This one looked promising, and so armed with a description, the man had dashed off to the olive groves to speak with Milo.

The grove where Milo was working alongside the laborers was a good distance from the house. But when the man told him about the visitor on the beach and gave him her description and described the creature beside her, it was enough for Milo to put his work aside and make haste back to the villa. He didn't allow himself to believe without question that it was her absolutely. It had been so long with no news, no word at all that though neither he nor Rioughe ever said it to the other, each of them might have had moments of believing they might never see her again. And yet neither of them could conceive of giving up.

Valanthia would find the winding steps easily, that ultimately would spill out onto the villa's front, open air courtyard. It wasn't a short climb, but the steep and winding nature required more care and a slower pace than if one were traversing an ordinary stairway. As timing would have it however, Valanthia had very nearly reached the top when Milo himself came into view, just at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in loose clothing and boots not unlike a field laborer himself, and with the aforementioned old smelly old hat on his head. But when he saw her, he pulled off the hat, tossed it aside on a small table, and just looked for a trill or two, searching, looking her over, as if making sure that after all of this time, it really was her.

And then he smiled and met her, just as she reached the top step. The joy, and relief of seeing her again after all this time shone in his eyes and was written all over his face. "Valanthia," he said, and pulled her into his arms for a firm embrace, whether she liked it or not. "I could hardly let myself believe it was you when they told me. It's been so long" Then he pulled back, hands on her shoulders and gave her another long look. "But here you are, after all this time. News hasn't and doesn't flow freely out here. We get bits and pieces from the mainland. It's improved of late, but..." Never mind that, for now.

"How are you, are you alright?" But then they were still standing out in the heat, at the top of the stairs. "You can tell me any or all, anytime, in your own good time. But we should get you inside, out of the heat. Come," he said and showed Valanthia inside to the main open space just the other side of the courtyard's glass doors. The place was designed not just for aesthetics, but to allow fresh air to flow through the villa and keep it cool indoors even in the midst of summer, and he showed Valanthia took a grouping of leather chairs and a couch where she could sit.

A young-ish woman of Eunesian descent wandered discreetly in from the direction of the kitchens, and cast a curious glance Milo's way. "Elena," Milo said. 'Would you mind bringing us something to chase off the heat?" The woman nodded and confirming that she would be pleased to do just that, she was quickly gone again. Glancing at Umbrosus then, Arlo smiled. "I can see that Umbrosus is still here, faithfully by your side. A very good friend indeed."

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Aunt Valanthia? "I...suppose that I am," she said. In a way that she would have had trouble explaining, it warmed her heart to know that she was at least a familiar name to Owen and Madeline, even if thinking about the crown that Milo used to have reminded Val of just how long she'd been gone.

After nodding in Owen's direction, she set to climbing the stairs; Umbrosus followed a few steps behind her. It was peaceful here -- the kind of place that would go a long way toward making someone forget their troubles, even if, at one point, those troubles had been the troubles of an entire nation.

She was almost at the top when Milo came into view, scanned her, and then embraced her. She returned the embrace, hugging her brother to her fiercely.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," she found that she was repeating when Milo held her out at arm's length again. "I...I couldn't get word to you. I was...detained. And when I wasn't anymore, I...I asked all over. I thought you...that you were dead, before I got news that you were here." The emotion of the reunion threatened to overwhelm her, though she tried to keep the tears from flowing. "But...for...someone who's been through what I have, I'm fine."

Val followed Milo inside, and sat down on one of the chairs. Umbrosus too came in, parking himself on the floor next to her. He flashed a wolfish grin at Milo upon being pointed out, then settled down so that his head was resting gently on his paws.

"You're here, and...I saw Maddie and Owen. Is...is Hannah here too? And I heard the children mention...father -- is he also here? And Nikki? Mrs. Stromb?" A cloud came over the princess's face. "I...when I heard about Prime, I...I didn't dare make inquiries about people I...that I knew then. It felt like...like I couldn't do anything to help them, and if I...if I didn't know, then it was easier to just...to pretend they were all right."

She frowned at this thought, trying to push it from her mind for the moment. "But you...you like like you've taken to...farming?...well enough. How...have you been? I know that...that the eras I was gone weren't...weren't kind to everyone. I...I'm just glad to see you again. I didn't...I didn't think it would ever happen." Again, the thought of everything that she had missed came to her in a wave. "I'm...I'm sorry. It's good to see you, Milo."

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

Val had been detained? Of course, depending on the circumstances and the who of it, it could have meant any number of things. Anything from detained, as in incarcerated against one's will or detained, as in arriving late to a gathering one hadn't really wanted to attend in the first place, only to mumble vaguely about a bum axle carriage on the side of the road. But this was Val, thus the revelation mysterious as it was, worried Milo a little.

Still, while he'd held her at arm's length, still taking in the sight of his sister after all of this time, Milo couldn't help but smile a little. "So was I, since we last saw one another. Briefly, and it all turned out for the better." As for the who, the how and the why of it, in order to protect the names of the guilty as sin, he'd leave it at that. But finally they were indoors and comfortably seated, and the chef had dashed off to provide some refreshment.

"She is," Milo replied when Val asked about Hannah. "Fifteen now, nearly sixteen. She resembles Nell more and more every brightening, while Owen probably takes more after me. Madeline though," he added, unable to completely suppress a lopsided grin. "She gets her looks from my mother Gloriana and much of her disposition from Rioughe." Of course that in itself resulted in a great deal of exasperation at times. But it was a far, far better thing that if it was to be either, then it was Rioughe's disposition, and not Gloriana's.

"Rioughe is here, as troublesome as ever. And missus Stromb is somewhere around here, doing what she's always done no matter where we are. Running the place like a well oiled machine. My mother as well," he said, and left that one exactly where it landed. But then his expression shifted to one much more solemn, when he thought of the ones who were not here, Nikki in particular, and also those who might not have been blood relations, but again, might as well have been. Nell's absence over the past decade was, well, it was more complicated than lack of access to news on the mainland, or lack of ease so far as travel. "Nikki, no," he said. "The last I saw her was with Ebram, while I was still at the palace in Prime. Rioughe and I, and missus Stromb, have worried after her fate, just as we did yours."

"Though it improved some when connections opened back up between Eunesia and the Empire, news out here was always difficult to come by. Letters didn't move out or come in, eventually the Herald dried up, in large part we relied on talk from merchants and ship's crew for information. Patchy, and probably hearsay as much as anything reliable. We did recently receive news about what happened in Prime however."

Just then, Elena slipped back into the room, with another serving girl following behind her. On the low table in front of Val and Milo, Elena placed a large mezze platter and two smaller, empty plates. The girl followed with glasses of chilled pear juice, and also glasses of wine, whichever the pair should prefer. The platter was overflowing with any number of nibbles. Thin, crisp, fresh made crostini and infused olive oil for dipping. Cherry tomatoes stuffed with goat cheese, thinly sliced smoked ham and smoked salmon. Fresh dates and fresh figs, olives and a fig chutney, roasted artichoke hearts, and tart pickled green peppers. Apparently the chef had been putting something together from the trill she'd caught wind that a visitor was coming.

And then Val and Milo were left alone once again. "There are a few others that I've wondered and worried about over the eras, what became of them, how they're faring," he admitted. "Alexis, Palacrisis and Straylor Leonard in particular. But I can't guess whether they were, or have been in Prime. It's not easy, is it?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "pretending everything is alright with those we've lost track of. Of course, according to Rioughe," Milo added, and couldn't help but to grin a little, again. "There are in fact two keys to happiness. Wine, and forgetfulness."

"As for farming, I do alright. I actually don't mind getting out there, working alongside the field hands and getting my hands dirty. It's good honest work, good for body, soul and mind. Though I think the workers are probably just flattering the man who holds the purse strings when they tell me I excel at it. I do not," he admitted. "Gloriana took Hannah shopping earlier and insisted that Rioughe accompany them. No idea why, they do nothing but squabble when they're together. But as I recall, the ferry should be making land any time. He'll probably be along shortly. He'll have a surprise in store for him, but a happy one."

"You'll stay for a while, or longer? Here on Chelseanna or at least in Eunesia?" But what Milo really wanted to know above all, was whether or not Valanthia was really as well and whole as she'd probably like him to believe. "What of you, Val. A decade is a very long time. Detained...you said? All that time?"

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Val also noted that Milo had been "detained," though it certainly seemed like he'd come out of it all right. Something to ask him about later.

"I'm glad that...father is well. And Mrs. Stromb. I...I missed her. And Hannah -- I have...I have so much catching up to do with all of them." Their safety warmed her heart. Nikki's absence, however, worried her. Had her sister been in Prime when the explosions happened? It seemed like little news had made it out here to Milo's far-flung corner of Eunesia. Val had never met Gloriana, but was glad enough for her safety, though she noticed her brother's ambivalent reaction. "I didn't...get a chance to know Palacrisis, but I did...make some enquiries after Alexis, without luck. And -- I didn't know Straylor well, but his...his wife, Elmaryia, was a friend. I looked for her as...as well, but couldn't locate her."

The food looked amazing. It tasted amazing as well, she thought, as she took a bite of the crostini. She washed it down with a drink of wine -- which marked the very first time she had ever had any alcohol in front of her brother, as far as she could remember. Valanthia had....well, she'd been more free with the alcoholic beverages since her return. There were moments in which she simply couldn't stand listening to the voices in her head any longer.

"I'm...when I got out of Arakmat, I...the only place I had left to go was my house in Ieffreon. So I'm...that's my base of operations for now. But I...I can definitely stay a few brightenings here. It's been...it's been too long."

She shook her head, and turned her attention to Milo's last question, which was the one she knew she'd have to address eventually. No time like the present, which was both a cliche, and something that Val had learned the truth of much more thoroughly than she had ever wanted to.

"I...would tell you that this will sound strange, but...you've heard me say some awfully strange things before. This is...in some ways more of the same."

She fortified herself with another drink of wine, and then pressed onward.

"I...I was in Arakmat. Kella and I -- you remember Kella? -- we had...had gone out into the desert. We had been...we'd done some research, trying to...to untangle the Sanguine curse, how to...make it end. We went there, and...where only a second before, there had been black sand, there was a...a group of people. And a lady, the Lady Saleem. She was a...a servant of Kalendryas, I believe. Kella and I asked her questions, she...gave us answers that were scarcely answers at all. Told us...stories that we only partially understood. And finally, I said...I said I'd do anything to remove the curse. Whatever I needed to do. Whatever...whatever it cost me."

Her voice had grown louder through this section, and she let the last sentence ring out in the room. When she spoke again, it was in a cracked whisper.

"I...I don't know what happened after that. I can't remember. Flashes, images...sounds I can't connect or parse. Then I...came to myself again. I was lying on the sand in the...the desert in Arakmat. Lady Saleem was gone, and her tribe was gone, and our guide was gone, and Kella...dear Kella was gone too. It was just me and Umbrosus and a pile of dirt. And it was...it was now. Era XXVI."

Val bit her lip. "I...I made it back to Ieffreon eventually. For me...for me, the last time I wrote to you was only a few months ago. I...I don't know what happened while I was gone, but I...think I was removed from time completely. I don't look any older, I don't...I don't feel any different, but the...the world had completely changed around me. Arakmat was gone, and Syl'rosia was gone. My...my ring won't take me back to Coldlight, and I can't get there on foot. Most...most of my friends are dead or missing. I...."

She looked up at Milo, and her grey eyes were filled to the lashes with pain.

"I'm sorry. I...I would have been there! I would have...done whatever I could to help Arakmat, to help my friends, to....to....to help you. But I was...elsewhen, and I...I can't go back. I can't..." Her voice trailed off awkwardly there, and she simply gazed mutely at Milo.

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

It had occurred to him over the course of their conversation, a strange mix of the ordinary pleasantries of catching up between family too far apart, and the more serious and solemn business of sorting out what had become of them all over the past decade plus; that Val hadn't asked about Nell's presence or absence from Chelseanna. Of course, the two had gotten along like something akin to oil and water from their first meeting and subsequent interactions. Oh, there were no public squabbles or obvious barbs thrown this way or that. Subtle ones? On Nell's part at least, certainly so. It was the darker blood running through Valanthia's veins, he'd always thought, that was the sticking point.

Nonetheless, he recalled a certain private dinner in the palace where the three had sat together and it hadn't exactly gone smoothly. He'd become impatient with the not so subtle digs and had launched a dumpling across the table at Nell. She'd unceremoniously plucked the sticky and gummy; his principle complaint about dumplings in general; thing off her breast, and launched it right back at him.

But then it struck him. It had been much more than a decade since he and Val had sat and spoken together. It was during a time when Nell had sailed off for Chelseanna, yearning to escape Prime and the palace for a time, and ultimately to cut to the chase, she never arrived and was ultimately declared dead. Valanthia had been lost for a decade herself, and must still believe Nell to be dead. He frowned slightly upon realizing it, judging whether it was a good time to delve into the subject. But then he decided that it was not. Rioughe, Gloriana and Hannah, particularly Hannah would be arriving from the ferry any time now. To say that Hannah had become increasingly prickly over the past couple of eras about her mother's whereabouts, would be putting it mildly.

It was too much to hope for however that Valanthia might have heard something, anything, about the whereabouts of a select number of friends who were, and had been, as close and good as the most loyal of family. "I can't imagine that either Alexis or Palacrisis would have been in and around Prime," he admitted. But by this point he wouldn't have known where else to look for them. "They knew and understood things at a very deep level, those two, much more than anyone else why I believed it best to step down from the throne when I did. Certainly more than we could openly speak of at a time when the Empire, or Kingdom as it was, was already doing it's level best to pull itself apart." The people that really mattered, that was. It was rare, these brightenings, or ever at all really, that Milo spoke at all about things passed now.

The truth was that if he'd been at liberty to be genuinely open and frank with his fiercest or more warlike opponents, if he could have trusted them enough with the truth, they might have come to understand that they'd come face to face with a would be ally; and that he truly was not at liberty to give them what they demanded or asked for. At least not right then. To do so at that very moment in time, in that place with unseen eyes and ears upon his every move, could have triggered a level of destruction that would make Sherian's ultimate losses seem mild in comparison. That was, if the Ancients and their threats could be believed, and there was too much at stake to gamble on calling a possible bluff. He'd considered there to be a way, a plan which might have included even the most hot blooded of his detractors and avoided disaster. But too few had any patience back then for the long game. Hammers, swords and maces were very good tools to tear things apart, but a poorer choice for putting them back together again.

"Being...detained for a time against my will at least provided me with the distance and clarity of mind to see things clearly." Which, ultimately was exactly why a silver haired devil and his merry band of conspirators had done it. "I think Alexis might have liked to talk me out of it," Milo remembered with a slight smile. "But he knew the reasons why better than anyone else. If I'd thought there was another way at the time, I'd have kept at it until it destroyed and swallowed me whole if that's what it took. I don't regret the decision, only that I was unable to pick my way through the deafening noise of discontent and the rattling of sabers to a better solution. But I have no desire to turn back time or dip my toe into politics again. Politics in the Empire is no place for stubborn, dyed in the wool optimists or hopeless romantics."

History would be written as it always had been, and people tended to embrace their preferred truths. He was at peace with it and had no further need to correct the record as he saw it, or plead his legacy's case. With the distance of a decade between then and now, he might even have wished a select few of his former critics and, or adversaries well, if he'd even known what had become of them after all this time. But coming back round and plucking up a glass of wine, he concluded, "As Rioughe likes to say I'm being maudlin', which makes a man miserable company." Still, while he hadn't intended to speak on the matter, this was his sister sitting beside him. And if few others knew or would ever know the reasons why as spoken from his own perspective, like any other loved and loyal relation, she had a right to. But then Valanthia proceeded to tell him something of what had resulted in her own period of confinement, off in Arakmat. The Sanguine. Of course. The word hadn't arisen in ages, but he remembered it well. Kella too, he confirmed with a nod of his head as Valanthia went on to explain.

He'd heard and even experienced any number of strange stories by now. But this one was far different, it had played out at the expense of a loved one. It couldn't help but strike him that Valanthia's sacrifice was one done in order to remove a curse, or remove herself from it. Ironic really, all things considered. "I'm sorry Val, truly," Milo said when Val revealed that Kella had likely fallen. "I'm grateful you survived it, and that you've emerged safe and whole. It's a sad fact I've discovered however, that the mysterious nature of some losses, makes them all the more difficult to contend with."

"You have nothing to apologize for. No regrets on my account. I haven't left these islands since I surrendered the throne. But if the Hannah wasn't half submerged out there off the beach, I'd personally fly you wherever you needed to go." How exactly that had happened, was a tale for another brightening. "But alas..."

And just then, as if the prevailing mood had become too solemn for the occasion and it simply couldn't be allowed to continue, the doors to the outside opened wide, and a tall and lanky shadow filled the sunlit portal. "Val?" There was no mistaking the voice. Some, women almost entirely, had described it as deep, smooth and as seasoned as fine aged whiskey. "Where the Aeternia have you been?!" Rioughe didn't wait for Valanthia to answer. He was already on his way to pulling her bodily into a ferocious embrace.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Valanthia listened carefully through Milo’s entire monologue about the end of his career in politics. There was much that she still didn’t know, but it was interesting to hear how her brother conceptualized the affair. Certainly, though she imagined he'd thought long and hard about it, she didn't figure that he spoke about it often. At least in his interactions with her, Milo had never been one to dwell on the past. She wondered about the oddly nonspecific nature of his detainment, but didn't want to pry into what had likely been a trying time for him.

And also. Also. This was the other thing that Val needed to talk to him about -- what exactly she'd been doing since her return from Arakmat. Though she almost certainly would have come to Chelseanna anyway as soon as she located Milo, there was more than one reason that she was here. It had been one thing when she thought that Milo was dead, and that she was carrying on his grand work. It was quite another now that he was very much alive and standing in front of her. Some people might have been able to press forward with that project regardless, but Val -- who couldn't have named two people whose opinions of her she cared more about than Milo's -- was not one of them.

"Actually," she said, "there's...there's something I need to ask you about the...political things." She did not raise her voice at all as she said this, but a momentary look of wild-eyed desperation crossed her face. Need was the operative word in the sentence she had uttered.

But before she could get any further, her father entered the room, and swept her up in a bear hug. She returned it, thinking of the last time she had seen him, when he'd come to visit her in Arakmat. He had asked her to play the piano for him then, and, once she'd played him a song she thought he wanted to hear, insisted that she play something that she wanted to play. It was the closest she had ever felt to the man, the most meaningful moment of connection she had felt with him as an adult.

"Father!" she exclaimed. "Though...it's less a matter of where than when. But...when last I...when I saw you in Arakmat, I promised I'd...visit you in Eunesia. So...here I am." She pulled back to look at him, and a wry smile crossed her face. "Turns out it...can take a really long time to get from there to here. I should have...left early to beat the traffic."

Not for the first time, the princess wished she had a better story to tell about her time away (which to her, was literally no time at all). It was...wearisome to have the answer to "what happened to you?" always be "I don't remember." But that was the truth of the matter, and though Val could be remarkably selective in the information she chose to share, she very rarely just lied to people. (Leaving aside, for the moment, the time she'd spent traveling under an assumed name, but that was another story.)

"Are you well?" she asked Rioughe, though she was fairly certain she knew the answer. "I hope you...have been keeping out of trouble. Relatively speaking."

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

Political things, was it? That was the subject that Val had touched on, at least, before they were interrupted by their father's very long and lean shadow filled the portal to the outdoors, lit from behind. Rioughe had a way, with voice and manner, of commanding the attention of those all around him. Or at least, his bigger than life demeanor made him awfully difficult to ignore. Unless, of course, it was his preference to go mostly unnoticed. This wasn't one of those times.

The older L'Evienne finally put her feet down on the floor again and when she stepped back, Rioughe gave Val's face a good looking over. He adopted a somewhat curious, even mystified expression as he noted the finer details of what he was seeing. But nonetheless, he remained smiling and made light. "Forgiven," he said, as if Val required it, then added, "Better late than not at all, and whatever you've been up to, you look just the same as last I saw you." Of course, unlike Milo and Nikki and Tristan, Val was not wholly human and it could be that longer lived elven blood running through her veins.

Nonetheless, if he'd been prepared to ask her to repeat any of what she'd just told her brother so far as where she'd been and what she'd been up to, a trilling, woman's voice drifted in from the outdoors. "Rioughe L'Evienne, your assistance is required!" Rioughe's grinning facade slipped a little and his left eye twitched almost imperceptibly. "They've bought out the shops, the two of them and since Gloriana won't have the staff helping, I'll be half the brightening hauling it in. I'd best answer the call before she sprouts her bat-like wings and takes flight."

'If you'd stop provoking her, it would improve your lot substantially," Milo remarked dryly from his place on the couch. "Now what would be the fun in that?" Rioughe asked before smiling again and winking at Val. "When your brother is done monopolizing your time, put some aside for your father, Val. Yes?" And when she agreed, in the wake of being summoned once more, Rioughe temporarily left the pair of them alone again. "Rioughe is not Rioughe, if not up to something. It's better to assume it's the case," Milo said. "It's those times though when he seems content to languish happily in surroundings such as this, that you should worry the most." He'd made the mistake once of underestimating his father, and once was more than enough.

Leaning forward in his chair to pick up a crostini, Milo layered a couple thin slices of smoked salmon on it, before adding a smear of fig chutney. Then taking his wine glass in hand, he leaned back again, recalling their conversation before Rioughe had come in. "You wanted to ask about politics?" he asked. "I'm curious, and I'll do my best to answer them. Keep in mind that I've been happily removed from Empire politics for quite some time, and am much more familiar with those here in the islands, such as they are."

"The Articles forever remain largely the same and since I haven't had a look at a more recent printing for some time, I'm inclined to assume that's still true," he reasoned aloud. "It's the nuances, personalities and machinations that are forever changeable." Milo had no reason to think that this was no longer the case either, at least not for the better. In fact he'd have been shocked if it was. But if Val had something on her mind or questions to ask, Milo was more than happy to listen, and help if he found he was able. Of course he was even more curious as to why Val would ask about politics at all, and just now. But rather than ask, he'd opt to wait for the reasons why.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Val had to smile at Rioughe's eye twitch. It was nice to know that some things ran in the family. She laughingly agreed to spend some time with him later, and then he went off to moonlight as a stevedore.

And then Milo was returning the conversation to politics. It was clear, however, from his introduction, that he had no idea where she was going with this. Val wasn't sure that was for the better or not. She was fairly sure, however, that even if he'd been allowed to guess for the entire brightening, he would never land on what she was going to say next.

"When I came to Ieffreon from Arakmat, I was alone," Val began. The hesitation in her speech was gone; Milo might remember that when that happened, Val was either in an academic setting, or at a peak of emotion -- and this was certainly no classroom. "Everything I'd done was gone too. All the work I'd put into the province of Arakmat? It doesn't even exist now. The time I spent negotiating Syl'rosia's return to the Empire? Syl is a smoking hole in the ground now. Whatever I did to try and remove the Sanguine curse had no effect. My friends were missing or dead. I got the chance to see what the world was like after a decade without me, and it was as if I'd never done anything at all. None of it mattered."

She swallowed, and looked down at her hands. "Then I heard about Prime blowing up. And I heard about Candaceburg falling to the Ratta. And I thought -- I could give up, or I could try one more time. One last chance to see if I could accomplish anything of value. A final attempt to do something that mattered. And I thought about you, about the way that you cared about the people of the Realm. How, even when you didn't know what to do, you made your decisions based on what you thought would help."

Though she did not look up, she drained the rest of her wine glass. "And I thought -- there's no word from the Empress. Nothing from the government in Prime. Not a single piece of communication. Does the Imperium even exist anymore? Not in a way that's meaningful to the people of the Empire, who have suffered so much."

A dagger-sharp breath in.

"And I thought, Milo declared me Princess -- and though I know he resigned the crown, I can't find anyone ever saying, well, Val's not a princess anymore. You gave me a job to do, and the job was to serve the people. So I've spent the last several months traveling the realm, raising an army and a navy to liberate Candaceburg. And, because I still haven't been able to find anyone who's both alive and who outranks me -- I had indicated that I believe I have a claim to the throne."

This sounded vaguely ludicrous as she sat here, in front of the man whose cause she had told so many people she was trying to carry forward, a man who wasn't dead at all, but had happily been farming olives for eras. But she had to say it. She couldn't keep that from Milo.

"It was one thing when I thought you were dead, that I was trying to do something to bring your ideals forward. It's another thing now that I'm here talking to you. And so -- I need to ask your advice. What should I do now? I haven't marched on Candaceburg yet. The only thing I've done is travel, talk to people, and marshal a certain amount of support. But the soldiers stand ready."

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

Once Val began to speak, to work her way to some sort of conclusion, some real clarity of just what she had in mind; Milo remained silent. Through all of it. Though as an outward indication that at some point early on, he'd begun to suspect; with some measure of attending dread; exactly where this was going, a frown settled in to his expression and he lifted a hand to gently rub his left eye. A bit or so later, he leaned forward, listening attentively, picked up the bottle and topped off his wine glass.

Silence wouldn't have been the case had Val chosen to speak of these things while Rioughe was still present. But then again, she'd probably, wisely, known better and had been content to pause wait him out. But while he didn't spiral upwards into a display of fiery outrage, nonetheless a dozen thoughts, concerns or more rattled round noisily in Milo's mind. Deep familial concern, worry about the toll that such an undertaking could, and would, take on her if by some miracle she was able to achieve it. Not just along the way, but afterwards.

But also a deep sense of gratitude that she wanted to carry on with the work that he'd attempted to do, but had found impossible at the time due to circumstances beyond the control. The current state of the Empire came as no surprise to him, no matter that the news was in short supply these brightenings. It was the rest that caused him to reach up and rub at his eye once more.

Once Val was finished, Milo was silent for a handful of thoughtful trills longer, frowning into his own rippling reflection in his topped off glass. Then a heavy sigh escaped him as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, wine cradled between the palms of his hands and he met her eye to eye. He smiled, but it was a solemn one when he finally spoke. "Are you seeking my blessing?" She needn't answer, it wasn't that kind of question. And at the end of the trial, Val didn't need to seek his blessing.

He'd begin on a more personal note, though that might change soon enough. "I'm sorry, Val, truly, that you've seen all of your efforts and work undone. As if, as you've said, you'd never done it at all. As if you'd never been there." Or at best, relegated to a fine print footnote in the Historia. "We have that in common, you and I. You've witnessed the aftermath, I witnessed it playing out from afar, in bits and pieces, while all of our work...Mine, yours, Alexis and so many others, was turned back, swept away or erased as if it had been nothing at all but a dream. And it happened with mind bending haste."

"To be honest," he admitted after a long swallow from his glass. "That's the thing that has taken the longest to come to terms with." If he ever completely had, that was. Of course what he didn't say then, and might never, was that he was certain he knew what forces, collectives and even individuals, were the driving forces behind such a hasty reversal. He hadn't needed to hear the titles, status or names rattled off, or to see them printed in the Herald to have come to that conclusion. But he also realized that holding stubbornly to old resentments and grudges when there was naught to do about any of it, was like thrusting a hand into a burning flame, and hoping that those who'd done wrong would spontaneously combust.

"I can't tell you what it means, that this thing you're contemplating is driven by your desire to continue the work that we attempted back then," he said. "But I also think you know that if I were to speak to you now only as your brother, my thoughts and advice would be very different than the words and concerns of a politician. I think you know that already. And since it appears that you've already given this a great deal of thought and have begun to put your pieces in place, better then that I put my personal concerns aside for the moment."

And so, to some extent, the hat of a politician. And there were many things to consider, start to finish. There was the matter of whether or not Val had any sort of claim to be capitalized. "My thoughts on whether or not a potential claim would be considered legitimate, I have to admit Val that from a legal perspective, it could be a shaky one at best. If the current status after all of this time, remained an Intendency or even Regency in the wake of my abdication, you might have a fair argument on your hands."

"But again," Milo added after a trill or two of silence, which he filled by refilling his glass. Like Rioughe, he had a great deal of tolerance for such things. "if the throne had been taken by force, you might also have a fair one. However, it's my understanding that the empress, be she alive or dead, was called by the Rite of Aethercrown, much as I was called to the Intendency. If she is gone, there may have been an arrangement in place. A First Minister perhaps to step into the role that would declare a Regency or Intendancy. And those who are inclined to take the word of the Aethercrown as gospel would likely see that as a continuation of it's wishes."

"Your name may be a help in some cases, while a hindrance in others. It would be a tricky balance to strike."

It wasn't a rosy picture that Milo painted for Val. And yet, it wasn't in an effort to completely dissuade her, only to make sure that she fully understood what she'd face if she carried on. "If you are planning to do this Val, then as your brother I support you completely. We are family. And I would like nothing better than to see you there, working to restore our vision, your vision of what the Empire could truly be, for those who matter the most. Perhaps, you have an opportunity that I was not afforded, simply for being called out of nowhere. The alliances and support I arrived in Prime with, was only that which was already in place."

"You can build that support along the way and maybe, that support just might be enough to somewhat weaken the argument that only the Aethercrown's word will do." First, there was the current state of the Empire. "From what I've gathered, the Empire is in a worse state now than it was when the Empress took the throne. And if she or her government weren't seen busily attempting to put things to rights, it might strenghten your argument. If you've got the support of the people, sufficient force and enough of the right alliances on your side...Well, you might just be able to do it."

He'd given Val a lot to consider. Perhaps too much at once, and so Milo paused there, feeling that there was a question for Val to contemplate. "Given all this, Val, I'm curious. What is your thinking where it concerns the strength of a potential claim, while many, particularly potential adversaries, might consider your title as princess to be merely a courtesy or honorary one?"

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

During her journey from Ziel Aerca to Chelseanna, Valanthia had played this conversation in her head dozens, perhaps hundreds, of times. Every one of those phantom conversations had been different; Val had been unable to predict how Milo would react to her revelations, which added to her nerves. When Milo began by empathizing with her, and then indicated his appreciation for Val's dedication to their shared ideals, the half-vysstichi girl visibly relaxed, the look of desperation in her face turning to something more natural.

She listened carefully as Milo spoke, carefully enough that she would be able to remember his main points and fix them in her mind. When he finished, there was a moment of silence, as Val flitted back through what he had said, and decided how to respond.

"There are...multiple factors at play," she finally said. "One is that...that I don't believe the Empire in the...the form that you and I have known it is going to continue to exist. The central government, if...if that's even a thing at the moment, projects no power. I also would have...have expected a declaration of intendency. But no such declaration has...been issued -- and though I haven't been to Prime itself, I've been...close enough that if such a declaration had been issued, I would have heard of it."

Val refilled her own wine glass. "There are only a...a few conclusions to draw from that. Either there's no one able to issue such a declaration, or...or someone is trying to hold the throne...without any higher authorization, or...or I suppose, there could be something wrong with the Ancients, the Gods, or the Aethercrown itself? Whichever one of those obtains...the Articles of Imperium either...aren't being followed, or perhaps cannot be followed."

Carefully, she sipped her wine, savoring the notes of strawberries and honey. "In any event, local...governments are beginning to wonder about the...the utility of the Imperium. I would speak...much less freely in other company. But Moonstone is already independent, at least de facto, and...possibly de jure as well, though the specifics elude me. I spoke with...Governor Tiyribi Andares in Primus Gaudeo, who...offered to help me, if I agreed to recognize the...independence of Centripax. Eunesia itself was...was in the process of rejoining the Empire, but if there's no...no Empire to rejoin, I think it likely that they may attempt to...paper over their differences with each other, and go it alone. Jaedaxia has been...clamoring for independence since before I vanished, and I...I can't imagine that this is the moment in which they'll set that aside. And those are...only the ones I'm aware of. Whoever takes the throne in Prime, whether that's...that's me, or someone else, I can't imagine trying to fight a war of reunification on five, ten, or even more...fronts."

Val set the glass down in front of her, watching for a moment as the light refracted through the liquid. "It's my...belief that what we are...are likely looking at is a return to an Aelyria composed of...several smaller states. I don't believe that there is...anything practical to be done to prevent it. I am...untroubled by that in theory; for a long time, the...outlying areas have felt...unseen by the Crown. What does trouble me is that an...unorganized group of squabbling fiefdoms would be...unable to resist in the case of another conflict with the Xet, or some...some other enemy. Should I...find myself on the throne, I think that...rather than try to somehow hold the entire thing together, I would...focus on trying to make sure we had treaties, particularly for mutual defense, in place. If we can't keep...Aelyria as one nation, perhaps we can keep it as an allied confederacy of some sort. Especially with the...the danger the Xet posed fresh in everyone's minds, I...I think that's not impossible."

And then there was the other question, the one that everyone she'd talked to thus far had asked her -- though it sounded much gentler coming from her brother. "As for...for legitimacy, that's a...a valid question. It's certainly...possible to challenge it. Maybe I'm...maybe I'm naive. But I know for...for certain that my claim is enough for at least some people to follow me, because....well, because they're already doing it. And given that fact...what I'm hoping for is a negotiated resolution to the whole thing. Aelyria has been...been brought, if not to the ground, certainly to her knees. We've...we've seen, too many times, what happens when we can't talk with each other, solve our differences by...by communication. I haven't spoken to...to anyone with a better claim than mine, distant though it may be, to the throne in Prime. What I have found...is...weary people everywhere, hoping, not for a flurry of patriotism, but for...actual protection, security, and peace for their homes and families. I believe we can...we can talk our way there. Maybe we can't -- but we have to try. We have to."

She shrugged, and for a moment, she wasn't Princess Valanthia L'Evienne, Possible Heir to the Throne in Prime -- she was just Val, a young woman who was carrying a weight she wasn't even sure she could lift, asking her brother for help. "I...I don't care about the power. If I could...could help the people by pressing my claim, I would, and I'd renounce that...that same claim in a heartbeat if that was actually what would help the people. When I...when I was a child -- it seems so strange to think of that time. But...you remember in Herozzal? When I...when I first saw you, when you were...were sick, and I was too shy to say anything. What I...what I wanted then was to...I wanted to become an animal healer. I wanted a library with books, and I...I thought it would be nice to learn to...write poetry or play music. I don't...I don't even know why I'm saying this. But -- the point is that...that I'm not doing this because I want to...to grab at power. Honestly, this...hasn't exactly been a season full of fun, and I...I know you know what I mean. But I...I feel like if there's a chance I can help, I have to do it. Because it's...hard enough to look myself in the mirror anyway. If I...if I just gave up, it would be that much harder."

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

What he'd asked Val at the last, and all that he'd said would take a moment or two for her to digest. Then to ponder and respond to. Milo knew this, they were somewhat in t hat regard. He was patient, and gave her that time while sitting back and sipping his wine. When she did begin again, he smiled. Her speech was somewhat halting, as it had been from the first time they'd met face to face. But to his ears it was much less in this instance, which gave him reason to smile a little. It meant something, and that was as important to him as the words that she chose.

There were moments, brief pauses along the way, where Milo might have take a moment to interject, to touch on some point or another. But he opted not to, preferring to hear all of it before responding at all. Context was all important and less clear if broken up into bits and pieces. "When I was first starting out as a young public defender," Milo finally said, perhaps beginning at an odd place, but it was important and tied into the issues at hand. "I rented myself a little private office, and took on an even younger Alexis Sapientia as a student and aid. We provided face to face mediation for ordinary citizens. Non binding compromises done in good faith, to resolve disagreements that were unlikely to be solved by any application of Imperial Law," he explained.

"When they didn't have the coppers to pay, we were often compensated for our effort with loaves of fresh baked bread or newly lain eggs." When Milo recalled those early brightenings, he tended to think that so far as his work was concerned, he was happiest then and he'd felt most useful face to face with ordinary men and women. With each rise in station, not one of which he'd wished for or sought, the enforced distance increased exponentially. And not for the better. "What I realized even then, Val, which is why I'm telling you that story, is that whether the Articles of Imperium are being applied or enforced now or not, in my mind and in my experience, as written or at least as applied, they have never truly represented the best interests of the people."

Now, during what amounted to a decade long, self imposed exile, Milo felt freer to say something that, should he have bluntly said it back then, would have had him possibly branded a heretic. "The articles set in stone the power at the top and all that goes with it." Wealth, influence, control and all the rest. "The throne itself, the top of the feudal order. It trickles down a little, too often to members of that same order, but little beyond that. Certainly by the time it reaches ordinary men, women and children, any suggestion of self determination is largely an illusion."

And what did that mean? It meant that the articles as written and applied had primarily served those at the top of the food chain, and kept them in power, and rarely those nearer the bottom. "There are those who have relied, capitalized on that state of affairs, and this notion that the Aethercrown always knows best...until it doesn't, in order to rise and grow exceptionally powerful. They might not even believe a bit of it, so far as the Aethercrown is concerned. But they won't give up the argument easily when faced with a claimant they don't approve of. Particularly one that isn't one of them, or theirs," he warned.

"As for me, I've personally witnessed the Aethercrown in action. I wouldn't trust it to choose the socks I'll wear to supper." But so far as the Articles themselves and whether or not they were being applied, Milo shrugged. Alexis, Palacrisis. Him. They'd put their heads together and drawn up a new version of the Articles that would have caused the Imperium to be dramatically less top heavy, and move a greater sense of self determination into the people's hands. It had been ready to go to the presses when the Ancients intervened and Sherian flared up. Now? He figured that having had a look at what had been planned, the whole thing had ended up as kindling for the palace fires.

Milo smiled again, genuinely, when mention of the Governor Tiyribi Andares arose as a possible alliance. "One of the best things I did while on the throne," he said. "Signing that writ. Of all the fires I was constantly having to chase and put out, I always felt confident that Centripax and its people were in very good hands. I only wished there'd been more like her." As for the rest, he grinned a little and remarked, "You've been busy."

"The Empire has always been an ungainly beast, and close to impossible to hold together. And even when that's the case, not always in the best interest of it's people," he said when Val talked about changing the very nature of what an Empire might look like in the future, if one might consider it that. Or something else. "Much of what you're talking about now...considering the current state of things, it may be more realistically done than when I first took the throne and began thinking in somewhat similar direction," Milo reasoned.

"Perhaps then, it was too soon and the timing was wrong. But there were little victories here and there. Inroads. But all of that stalled when the Ancients showed up and Sherian exploded." When Val mentioned Eunesia, Milo nodded and considered it briefly. "You may be right about that. However, the situation here on Chelseanna, in relation to the rest of Eunesia, is a unique one," he explained. "The Duchy of Paradeisos occupies virtually all of the land on Chelseanna, from north to south, east to west. We don't currently work all of it, but it effectively makes Chelseanna a private island. Of course there's a population of just over three hundred, with a capable Podesta who's been in place for as long as I can remember."

"As Duke of Paradeisos, I suppose that I could make myself a few Counts, parcel out some small plots...though I don't see the point, and I might exert some sort of influence or pressure on the Podesta and his underlings. But I see no reason to interfere when as is, there is harmony here and the people are happy and content with things just as they are." And well fed too, which much of the Empire apparently was not. A good working relationship with the privateers that sailed the seas, that was key. For that matter, they were also the source of much of the news Milo had gathered over the eras.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, Val," Milo added, sitting back again in his chair, "is that I'm not sure if the Articles would support a claim in your favor, and there are those who'd use them to argue against you. Added to that, succession is not necessarily hereditary in nature. The same so far as the Rite of Aethercrown."

But in the end, this was Val's choice, and her undertaking, and so Milo smiled and drained his glass. "Still, regardless of maniacal magic crowns and fancy titles and hopelessly root bound pedigrees, if you've got the will of the people behind you, the force, and enough of the right alliances on your side, then...Under current conditions, now more than ever before, the arguments against your claim, in practice, could lack a good deal of the bite they once might have had.'

"Just one last piece of advice, however, before you tell me if there's anything I can do to be of help," Milo said. "You have to want this Val. For it to work, for any of these things to become a reality, you have to really want it. You have to believe that it's you who can achieve it. Not for the wealth or the power, the followers or the luxury. You have to want the opportunity and the resources to turn that vision...Your vision now, not mine, into a reality. You have to really believe in it. Because where you're going right now isn't going to be easy. It's what will get you through it."

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Valanthia listened carefully to what Milo had to say. If, in some regards, the siblings had very different personalities, there were also similarities -- one of which was a dedication to paying full attention when others were speaking. She nodded at appropriate intervals, but didn't try to chime in until her brother was completely finished.

"You and I...have come to some of the same conclusions," she said at length. "I don't think that...that the Articles have always worked in Aelyria's interests. The principles, I think, have...much to recommend them, but the execution has been problematic. I'm very interested in...in how you've chosen to handle Chelseanna. It seems like a place where the...your ideals can be, and are being, put into practice."

She leaned back in her chair thoughtfully, gray eyes focused on the ceiling. "In my...my more cheerful moments -- I have them, don't laugh! -- it occurs to me that right now, we're at a...a sort of hinge point. I think that if...if anything is ever going to change, now is going to be the time that it...that it does so. The problems with the previous political organization have been...laid bare. The people of Aelryia have had enough of...power games and bloodshed. The Ancients seem occupied with their own affairs, and...well, to be honest, the Gods seem to have their hands full as well. With Diana's fall...I think it's questionable whether the Articles have the same stamp of authority that they once did."

Val looked thoughtfully at her brother. "Maybe...maybe what you did mattered after all. Maybe, even if you didn't...didn't get to do what you were trying to do, the seeds you planted can...still bear fruit. With so much of the old world...shattered and destroyed, we can try to put it back together in a way that's fairer, kinder, more just. I don't know that any of us will...will see a better time to start again."

She sighed, and folded her hands on the table in front of her. "Not that things are...guaranteed to get better. It's an opportunity, not...not a destiny. And that's why I...why I feel like I have to use the position I'm in. Why I have to press my...my claim, at least for now. I would not have chosen this for myself. But...I think there's at least the possibility that I can help. And I do want...the resources necessary to help as much as I can. That's not exactly...wanting it in the traditional sense. But I think a lot of the best leaders are...not the ones who dream of power, but the ones who are in the right place when opportunity comes by, and...use that good timing to help others."

Val hoped that would be enough. She had no idea whether governing was really within her power or not, but at least she believed that she was trying to do the right thing. And for once, it wasn't something forced on her. Maybe she would fail, like she'd failed at everything else. But she had to try.

"As for...for things you could help with. I can...can think of a few, but...only if you're willing. You're right, this is...this is my vision now. I can ask for your help, but...but you don't owe me anything."

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

Val's question about how Chelseanna, in effect, the Duchy of Paradeisos was handled, was met with a thoughtful nod at the first. An indication that Milo would elaborate in more detail shortly. For the moment, however, he said simply. "It may be that an approach similar to ours might be considered in bits and pieces elsewhere. And possibly on a larger scale. Admittedly though our situation here on the island is a unique one, and it was one that came about through a mutual agreement, mutual interests and compromise between myself and those who called the island home as soon as I took up residence here." And of course, here, there was only a population of several hundred to consider.

"In effect, we all rise together. And should that not be the case, we tighten our belts together." He'd say more about the particulars though, once he'd considered the rest. "Do you really?" Milo asked then, a crooked grin that evolved into a snort of amusement. "Cheerful? Perish the thought sister. I'm not sure I'd recognize you." He teased her, of course. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.

If the Ancients were as elusive and not meddling in the affairs of men, that was good news so far as Milo was concerned. He only wished that back then they'd have both started and ended that way. "I'd say if the Ancients are occupied with their own affairs, then very little has changed and all for the better if they remain that way. Of course, don't underestimate their ability to pop in unannounced and create havoc, then go silent and elusive again once the damage is done." He spoke from personal experience of course, but wouldn't wish that state of affairs on anyone else. Especially Val.

"At any rate I believe you may be right. There may be no better time than now. About seeds having been planted as well," he admitted. "I tend to think too often about what was destroyed of our time there, much like your own work in Arakmat. But there were moments, particularly before the Ancients turned up. I still recall a particularly successful visit with the dwarves." Milo grinned a little, though that time felt like it was a world away now. "We got on very well as I recall, face to face. Though I have to admit that I may have to give credit for some of that to missus Stromb who accompanied me there. Turns out, she seems to be considered quite the charmer in dwarfen society."

As for help, Milo shook his head when she spoke of debts. "No. You're right Val. There's no owing. There are no debts between family. Not this family. If there's some way I can help? You say the word." Having said that, he got up from his chair and walked over to a large wooden cabinet along the wall, opened an upper drawer and pulled out a large scroll tied off with string. Once he joined Val again, he moved the platter and glasses aside, and unfurled what turned out to be a map of Chelseanna.

"Paradeisos," he explained while sweeping a hand over what amounted to the entirety of the map, "occupies all of the island with the exception of Port Chelseanna proper and it's most immediate surroundings, and the harbor. The population of Port Chelseanna is around three hundred and fifty. That number rises over time. But growth has gradual, not dramatic. When Nell and I purchased the island, it was not with the intention of making it a Duchy. It was to have a secure and private getaway where we could escape the chaos of Prime now and then, and catch our breath."

Of course, that changed later on, as Milo would explain in a moment. "It was the Podesta himself that had offered the island for sale. He also doubles as the Aedile. We were welcomed warmly with smiles and celebrations...Of course, it's the Chelseanna way. Beware the cheerful salutations and warm smiles, for there is cunning beneath the sunny exterior," he added, with a tone that implied he actually enjoyed that aspect of life here on the island. "We were rarely here back then, and so nothing much changed at all until the Duchy was put in place, and we took up residency."

"Port Chelseanna was, and remains, a thriving community that does very well for itself. In large part, it earns it's wealth through the production of wine, olives and olive oils, citrus fruits and so on. And goats. Lots of goats," he added, grinning and shaking his head. And rubbing elbows with pirates, though he'd leave that part out. "But in addition, it is and has always been an attractive destination for artists and musicians. So naturally, given the way Duchies have historically functioned on Aelyrian soil, they were concerned that we might have been planning to grow fat at their expense."

So, Milo sat back, collected his thoughts and went on. "Not long after I settled in, a decade ago, I called on the Podesta and invited him to visit and share a meal with us, so that we could speak face to face about what I had in mind. And I hoped we could come to a mutually agreeable solution. We did," he told Val then. "And it's worked very well. Much like other mainland Duchies, Paradeisos receives a good portion of it's income from rents on both residential and commercial ventures. The Duchy's lands are not for sale, they are for rent or lease. Also to an extent, levies, calculated in percentages are placed on profits so far as money making venture leases are concerned. And, here, due to our unique circumstances, grazing fees for free ranging goats on what would otherwise be considered private land."

But that was where many of the similarities ended, as Milo would go on to explain. And even those had been stylized to suit those involved, and the circumstances. "From the start, I was clear that I would not be asking for, or expecting rents, fees or taxes on any property within the town limits of Port Chelseanna. Also, any fees, taxes or charges that were already being levied by the township so far as the harbor was concerned, would also continue to be the township's to collect and control, as it always had been."

"As a further compromise and gesture of good will, I reassured the Podesta that not only would I not be attempting to collect rents or levy taxes inside the township limits, I would also guarantee the same for any other home or fixed locale commercial venture, outside township limits that had been fully in place prior to Paradeisos being declared a Duchy. Even if technically, it was located on private land. The exception," Milo added, "was and is roaming goats. It's simply the way that it's done here. So while my own herd is confined inside the walls the majority of the time, others are left to roam. The farmers pay a grazing fee based on a percentage calculated by combining the size of each herd and the profits gained by the venture."

If Val needed to see specific numbers, Milo would have to ask missus Stromb about that. It was her that kept track of all the little particulars. "So having exempted preexisting homes, farms and such, the Duchy collects rents and grazing fees as part of it's income. It's not a fixed amount. The percentage is based on the size of the property, whether it's simply a home with a backyard garden or a vineyard, and so on. Since the percentage rises with success, the wealthy will always pay more. However, once a certain ceiling is reached, those percentages cease to rise."

"The Duchy's rents, fees and levies, are never higher than those that would have been asked by the government of Port Chelseanna. Doing so would have created resentment, and what we don't want, is to punish or discourage success. At the other end of the scale, poorer residents attempting to plant their first olive grove for example, will see their taxes and fees deferred for a full era in hopes that they'll begin seeing a profit first." This point was particularly important, so far as Milo was concerned. "We want our neighbors to do well, and that requires a more solid footing from the start." Leaving the map there for Val to look at if she wanted, Milo picked up his wine again. "Of course, it happens that much of what we take in in the form of rents, fees and levies, we put back into the community or to make improvements on the land."

After all, hands around the villa weren't remotely idle ones. "An equal or larger amount of our income, as a family, is earned through the production and trade of olives and private label olive oils, figs and other derivative products, goat cheese and during culling season, some meat...And I've been looking at putting in a vineyard for a private label wine. That aside, the Duchy does in fact receive income through rents and these other things I've touched on, but it is not a one sided arrangement. It means that I have a responsibility to the people of Chelseanna, and I take that responsibility of looking out for their welfare, safety and interests very seriously. And still," Milo added with a grin at the last, "every once in a while, just now and then, I've accepted a grazing fee or partial rent in the form of fresh baked bread or newly laid eggs." Or even better, a fresh haul of oysters or shrimp, straight from the sea.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Valanthia listened with extreme care as Milo described the administration of Chelseanna. She tried to memorize the map, and to fix every point that Milo made in her mind. She was, indeed, hopeful that some of what her brother had learned would prove useful to her -- especially since he seemed to be taking every precaution to make sure that the system actually worked for the people who lived under it.

It wasn't until he had completely finished that Val finally leaned back in her chair and took another sip of wine. "It...it sounds like a system that works well. I'm hopeful that...that I can make some use of what you've learned here, if I...if I get far enough to be able to do so." Nothing, after all, was guaranteed to her. Everything needed to break her way for her dreams of (good) governance to become a reality.

She set the glass down on the table, and steepled her fingers thoughtfully. "As for...for what I could need from you. There are a handful of...of things. But...these are requests, nothing more. I mean, it's...it's not like I can order you around anyway." She laughed quietly at the concept of trying to boss Milo around his estate; it was a ludicrous concept to her.

"The...the first thing is...your official endorsement. I don't...don't think that I would announce it publicly. But as I'm going through the process of...of finding allies and building consensus, it would be useful to...to be able to tell at least some people, the people who remember you fondly, that...that I have your approval." Milo was right, of course -- the L'Evienne name wasn't uniformly well-regarded. But, as she'd learned from talking to Tiyribi, there were still people who took it very seriously. It would be nice to be able to tell such people that Milo approved of her efforts.

"The second is...well, it's the awkward part, I suppose. But if there's any possibility that I could...could borrow some money from you. Losing my...my estate in Arakmat made my finances much more...cash-strapped. If I get far enough, I can easily...easily repay you from the Imperial coffers. But I have...soldiers to pay in the meantime. I was going to sell my home to raise...to get some money, if it came to that. You can say no, of course...and I don't know how many crowns you have just lying around. But I have...infantry to pay, and I would prefer to...to be able to feed them up front, so there's less...of a temptation for them to loot the countryside. That would undo everything I'm...trying to build."

Her gaze fell to the floor now. Though her final request was probably the easiest of them all, it was still the one she felt the most self-conscious about, because it was the closest to her heart. "And the...the last one is. Well. I mean...success isn't assured. Even me living through this...this process isn't a guarantee. But if I...if this doesn't work, or if I...if I run into problems I don't know how to solve. Can I..." She bit her lip, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

"Could I come back and...and ask for your advice? Or...come back if I...if I don't have anywhere else to...well....to go?"

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

Could some of what they'd done here on Chelseanna, so far as the management and the brightening to brightening business of the Duchy, work on a much grander scale? It was possible, Milo thought, except that, well, Chelseanna was no sprawling empire or kingdom, nor was it subject to seemingly countless disparate voices. "I guess it's possible," he considered, touching on that point in the wake of Val's musings. At least, some elements of it, stylized and tweaked on a much larger scale. But remember,"[/b] he advised. "Chelseanna's population is a relatively small one. Some families have been here for generations, so the community is bound to be a more cohesive one with more shared interests than you'd find on a larger scale between one province and the next."

And more importantly? "The culture is a shared one among the population, between one neighbor and the next, and the fact that I have so easily embraced it has made my presence here more agreeable to all. Interests align for the most part. But on the mainland where you have a patchwork of dramatically different cultures, races and interests? A one size fits all approach on such a grand scale, well...." Milo shrugged a little and concluded. "If it was the best of all methods, then somebody along the line would have been able to pull the whole thing together by now and kept it that way."

When Val turned to explaining the ways in which he might be of help, Milo sat back again and remained quiet throughout. Thoughtfully so, and at one point in particular, when she touched on the topic of funding, he frowned slightly. A frown that had very little to do, if anything, with whatever sum Val might have in mind to ask for. One of concern, most certainly, but much more personal than the business of counting crowns. Still, he opted to hold that concern in reserve until she was done.

When she fell quiet again, it was the last of Val's requests that Milo addressed first. In his mind, it hadn't needed asking at all. "Val. One of these brightenings, you will finally realize, and believe, that it's not a question ever in need of asking. We are family. It's not a arrangement formed by convenience, advantage, prosperity or anything else. It simply is. Wherever it may be, whatever the time or circumstance, you can always come home."

Having said that, Milo turned to the matter of an endorsement. That was equally as simple to address, considering the qualifier that Val herself had brought up. "As your brother, and as the Duke of Paradeisos, I will give you my endorsement. I think I've got a seal for that sitting around somewhere," he quipped. Considering their shared surname, there'd be little argument against it, even if he'd been inclined to make one. Any who supported or opposed her, would probably assume that she had the support of her brother to an extent, whether it was only that given in spirit, or in more practical ways.

Still, better not to make any more of it than need be, and only under just the right circumstances. Not only might it not always be a help, this was Val's venture, her future, and not his. "It's better not to in general." Announce it publicly, that was. "And during those times when it may seem advantageous to reveal it, I'd exercise caution when approaching potential alliances. Take it from someone who was put in the unenviable position of learning the hard way, and under fire. Hands extended in friendship, presumably shared ideals and even real or implied offers of support or declarations of loyalty are not always as they seem, or as we would like them to be. Tread carefully in that regard. As they say, walls all too often tend to have eyes and ears."

In truth, Milo wondered if this was a political reality that might be difficult for Val. She was sensitive. There was something deep inside of her, Milo thought, something he was tempted to blame Rioughe for, that wanted and needed to belong, and to be loved. A state of being that could all too easily be taken advantage of, if she didn't remain fully aware of the potential dangers.

Nevertheless, there was the matter of financial support to address, and one of his concerns about something she'd said...well, his previous advice could all too easily apply to this too. Some points were simpler though, and he grinned just a little. "I may have a few crowns laying around that I could part with for the right reason. Of course, first, I'd need to know how much we're talking about. In my time, I didn't cipher the numbers and personally pay the Imperial Legions myself. I may have a general idea. I did receive briefings and authorize any number of matters. But it was often a matter that was in flux, depending on the circumstances. Such as, how long a particular campaign might last."

"And in truth, much of that was guesswork and adjustments would need to be made along the way." That said, she'd need to give him some sort of figure based on the number of soldiers she had backing this venture, what their cycle by cycle expenses were likely to be, and since it would make very little sense for her to return next cycle and ask again, some idea of the timeline involved. If only a general guess, since she could always make adjustments later on.

But this brought him back to the thing that had caused him to frown a bit, much earlier on. "While I agree that it would be counterproductive to have hungry and copper-less troops doing the fighting," he said. "I would advise you not to give all up front." It was a tricky thing, that went back to his concerns for her personally, but was more than that besides. "You might feel that a campaign may last a few cycles, or a full season, but the truth is there are too many variables that simply can't be planned for in advance."

It was awkward, and uncomfortable to have to say. But there was no way around it. Milo wanted nothing more than to save Val from having to learn some of these lessons the hard way. "Val, nothing would please me more than to know that whoever you have made alliances with, whatever support you have brought to your cause, is worthy of whatever trust you place in them. My greatest wish is that you are not disappointed. In spite of a few of my own disappointments along the way, I was very fortunate in that regard." Except there was a but in there, somewhere. "But there are times unfortunately when loyalties can be bought, lured away or split. A best case scenario means that all who rally to you side share your vision, a common goal, and take their oaths of loyalty seriously."

"Of course, it's not all about broken vows or double dealing. It's also about budgeting, making sure that what funds are available, are managed as well as can be and made to last as they're intended to. I would advise you to not release all up front, no matter the amount in question. Make sure your troops are well equipped, certainly. Well fed and enough coin in their pockets to keep them to the next installment, without leaving them to loot for their next meal. With a promise there'll be more to come, already in reserve, with the next installment. I would suggest releasing funding in quarters or thirds periodically...in advance installments, as you've mentioned, so they're not worrying whether or not they'll be paid for the fight, with adjustments for the unforeseen as needed."

From Milo's perspective, it felt like a suitable compromise to suggest. Some in advance, enough to keep her troops free from any worry they'd be denied the pay they were promised, and yet not so much that her funding was exhausted too soon due to even the most well intentioned mismanagement. "I don't feel the need necessarily to control those purse strings myself," Milo added. "Not only would I like to avoid a public face as much as is possible, but it would be impractical for me to manage anything like that from here. But you might consider doing that yourself? Then again, if there is sufficient reason to believe that this venture will be a short lived one...and I mean that in the most positive of terms. Then I could see the sense in paying the greater part in advance, since it would be impractical not to," he suggested, which went right back to discovering just what sort of funding Val was looking for.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Valanthia could handle advice, and she made careful note of what Milo had to say. And he was right, of course, to warn her about how far to trust anyone. Politics were a dangerous game, and Val knew that she was at a juncture that required even more caution than usual. The bit about payment, too, she fixed in her mind. How to keep people loyal, or at least avoid some of the temptations that could lead to disloyalty.

What was left unsaid, Milo's concern about Val's longing for love and validation, was also a legitimate concern, though it didn't cross Val's mind at this juncture. She was, indeed, desperate for belonging and affection, and those qualities could be used against her. She was trying to be as careful as she conceivably could, but it was never easy to try to fight one's own innate tendencies.

"The...estimate that I got from Riven -- he's one of the infantry commanders -- ran at about 3,000 crowns a cycle. I don't...I don't think I have to actually pay anyone until I...until I give the order to march. I can't...say for certain how long I'll need to keep people on the temporary payroll, but I'm...hopeful that it's not long. It's hard for me to...to imagine that Candaceburg will be an engagement that...stretches out for months and months. Though...it occurs to me that we still don't know why the ratta are attacking. If they have a...a leader, I would...prefer to speak with them before...attacking."

She shrugged, and ran one finger over the rim of her glass. "After...after Candaceburg, I am...hopeful that I will be able to...see what remains of Prime, and who...is there to negotiate with. I have no...sense of that -- I haven't been able to...to find anyone from the government to talk to, but I...I mean, there has to be somebody, right? But I'm also...hopeful that if I can take Candaceburg, people will...will join me. Somebody, anyway."

The glass was empty now, and Val refilled it, though she didn't take another drink just yet. "As of right now, I have...the Knights of Libertas, Riven's men, Admiral Rosie Kyrillos's ships, and a...a few other things. Tiyribi Andares has...agreed to personally help me expel the ratta from Candaceburg, though she's made it...very clear to me that she has no intention of...weighing in on the matter of who holds the crown. My friend Jade Alanon has a...a fire drake that she plans to bring to bear. You may remember..."

Valanthia paused for a moment. Milo might remember all too well, given what had happened with the civil war between the Imperialists and the Royalists. But a decade later, a lot of things had changed.

"...may remember my friend, Imperatis Gye'ron Val Oriden. He...I know you and he weren't always on the same side. But he...has elected to throw his weight behind my claim, and is...traveling, attempting to round up support from former legionnaires. And he...gives me an actual experienced battlefield general, should...the occasion require one."

Val drummed her fingers on the table, and then looked up sharply. "Thank you, Milo," she added quietly. "I...it's good to see you. Good to...to be able to talk to you. Good to...get advice and help from you. But also..." She waved one hand, a gesture that encompassed the entire room. "It's just...just good to be here with you."

 

[Milo L'Evienne]

Three thousand crowns per cycle, Val said, by way of providing an estimate of the sort of funding this venture of hers might require. "Admittedly it's been some time since I've been in the position of looking over those sorts of payrolls," he considered aloud. "But it sounds as if you've got the backing of a fairly sizeable force behind you." Unless, of course, these men were mercenaries of the most demanding sort. He had no reason to think so or question Val's judgment, however, though he couldn't recall having heard the name Riven before. Some habits were hard to break even after a decade away from the throne. Milo committed the name to memory before thoughtfully moving on.

He did however have less faith in the prospect of treating with ratta. Ratta were ratta. Still, he'd always believed and still did that a call to arms ought be a last resort, so long as there were other less deadly options available. It was inevitable. It was always the people, the most innocent who suffered the most. As for what Val might face when and if she was able to reach Prime and make her case for the throne, his long absence from that place and even the broken news he'd received of what had occurred there, left him unable to even wager a guess. The silence seemed telling, however, and it was quite possible that a very large vacuum had opened up. The time indeed might be right as never before.

While Val went on to provide some insight into just how much support she'd managed to bring to her cause, Milo reached into a narrow drawer mounted beneath the low table nearby, plucked out a tray, then a cigarillo that smelled faintly of dark cherry. Lighting the thing, he sat back then and while there was a name or two he recognized already, he mentally took note of the rest.

He found himself somewhat pleased to hear that the lady Andares had offered to lend her personal support so far as ousting the ratta from Candaceburg. Not that he was any longer in the position of personally needing to be pleased. But it was good to hear, all the same. As for having opted not to publicly throw her support behind Val's bid for the throne, the lady Andares was also a very astute politician; alliances, allegiances, debts of all sorts and other expectations were rarely uncomplicated things, and he'd have been surprised if Val had told him otherwise.

Val's pause then was a telling one, though and Milo frowned thoughtfully, realizing that in all probability, she believed that whatever she said next, might be heading into uncomfortable territory. Turned out, she was right. However, it wasn't the name that Val gave him, in this instance, that invoked a much deeper frown than the ones that had gone before. Had been a different one in particular? Better it hadn't been. Still, the topic of Sherian itself, implied rather than stated aloud, was enough.

Nonetheless Milo's tone remained even at the first, as he considered Val's personal endorsement of Gye'ron Val Oriden. "I remember. I also remember that you had a great deal of faith in him back then...Val," he said after tapping away a long ash in the tray. "It's not my place to judge, or criticize who you've brought to your side. This is your undertaking, not mine. But if it matters, I do, and have always respected those who have disagreed, so long as those differences are well reasoned and honest ones. A select few of my closest and most trusted advisors were known to disagree with me time to time. I relied on it, and relied on them to approach me honestly," he said. "Another perspective different from my own, proved to invaluable more than once."

"However," Milo added, "What I cannot and could never abide, is fanaticism. Particularly the variety that bears arms. It renders itself deaf to any possible reason by the rattling of its own sabers. And blinds itself to reality with a myopic, zealot's vision that places concept alone, real or imagined, above all else." It was probably the most flattering thing that Milo could think of saying, at that particular moment, so far as motives went. If not, he'd have as easily said the motivation was a lust for title and power, and nothing more than that. Somewhat less noble a cause than even fanaticism, in his mind. Whichever it was, the whole damned thing was so unnecessary, and hadn't needed to happen.

Nonetheless, "I haven't personally met him, Val. But from everything you've told me before about Gye'ron Val Oriden," he said, a semblance of a smile having returned to his face. "then I would guess that he is not that sort of man, not one of the...can't abides. I can't begin to personally condemn all who took part there. The reasons were many I'm sure, and probably more of them nobler ones, than not. Had their voices not been drowned out or shouted down, I'd like to have been able to hear them. Not that you need my approval," he added. "But I trust your judgment all the same. Perhaps one brightening we'll meet face to face."

There remained the matter of feeding and keeping an armed force, however, and Milo finally turned his attention there. "When will you call for a march? Autumn, you think?" he wondered, although the exact timing of the call wasn't as important as making sure Val had sufficient resources available to her when the time came. And there was also the trickier matter of how long a conflict might last. "It's more than the conflict itself. It takes time to move troops to where they need to be. The weather may not always cooperate. It costs as much to feed men marching to or away from an entanglement, or those hunkered down to shelter themselves from the storm, as it costs when the moment arrives."

He'd be here on Chelseanna where he'd been for a decade now, and Val would be on the mainland. It simply wasn't practical to do anything but make sure she had access to sufficient funds. She couldn't simply dash back for more if it came to it. "It may not last for months on end, but whether Autumn or sooner, it might be best to plan for a season...three months. Fifteen cycles in all." It would also allow for the unforeseen, even if it proved to be a briefer affair. "And if you are able to make a successful bid in Aelyria Prime, but then discover that the royal coffers are empty, what excess is left might serve to keep your troops at your side a little bit longer." Or if all went just as quickly and well as hoped, then she could always return what was left.

"If that's acceptable, I'll arrange it. You'll be managing the accounts yourself?" he asked, before touching on one last thing so far as funding and endorsements are concerned. "It probably goes without saying that any official endorsement from the Duchy, which you'll have, should not be considered even passively to be an endorsement from Chelseanna, Port Chelseanna's thane or other officials. It seems like a small distinction to make, considering that the Duchy occupies most of the island. But obviously I have not spoken to the Podesta about this, but they are under no obligation to follow my lead. I don't personally involve myself in the politics in the rest of Eunesia unless I am asked, so I can't speak to that either."

"In light of that," he said then, smiling an apology for having gone somewhat off course with his thoughts. "Whatever funding I provide will be coming not from income earned from administering the Duchy, but from my own personal accounts." Meaning, personal monies brought with him to Chelseanna, invested into the land, built upon and grown. Not monies gotten from rents or fees levied by the Duchy.