The Empire By Moon and Stars

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Medja

Empress Regent
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...Some days after the Tower of Tribulations...

Numbers were one thing, but progress was another. With new recruits in the fold, Medja could turn her attention to the next step: acquiring the means by which she'd preform her miracle. That meant that sitting still and serving as an administrator from the comfort of the Imperial palace was no longer going to be an option. While she'd have to rely on her Hands even more than before to take care of both her usual duties, their own responsibilities, and much the hunt that would soon be beginning, the Vizier of Stars found herself getting excited at the prospect of venturing out into the world again. Of course, for that to happen she'd need even more assistance.

Her days spent in Annuakat hadn't all been spent simply handling paperwork and acclimating to the duties of Empress she'd soon be responsible for. On the contrary, she'd been researching. Liadain was rife with magical artifacts, her long-dead master being one of the most prominent in leaving powerful relics behind. Such things were well hidden and even more well protected, however. It would be impossible to track down everything she needed to seal the Dragon's Scar in a reasonable timeframe. Thankfully, her research had been fruitful in finding her the means to that end: one of the artifacts of Aramekh, created alongside the very Fists that accompanied her now.

She knew that she'd need to retrieve this particular relic to proceed, that much she knew. The problem, however, was its potential, supposed location...somewhere in the Nahas Ocean, far off the coast of the Trident. The sea was...not exactly Medja's most comfortable environment, and the exact location of the artifact had yet evaded her.

To that end, Medja called those who she thought could help most: Hands, both old and new; associates she'd met in her time in Annuakat; and most importantly, the one person she knew would be the most valuable in this situation...the Vizier of the Moon and Princess of the Mchawi, Noelani. Those who were invited were asked to meet Medja at the docks in Annuakat so that they could be briefed on the nature of what would follow...
 
The ocean in the air was oddly comforting to him. It didn't remind him of any memory from his home, some distant recollection of a time well spent. No, it was foreign to him. Refreshing. Every time. It was likely why he enjoyed Annuakat so much when he came, it was all still so new, even after so long. As the Sun he shone his eye out over all the Empire, commanding their army to and fro. Rare it was for him to look upon the Moon and Stars, and often from the distant horizon it was. Today was not such a time.

Footsteps on the dock.

He approached, alone, and garbed in the full attire of white cloth as all his assassins and Sipahi wore - only the golden armband distinguished him from any of they.

He had received no invite, but he felt he required none. His place would have him defend Gerra with his life, and with Medja in his stead, his position obligated him. That was however, simply more convenient. Even if that weren't the case, he intended to embark with her on whatever quest she'd taken up regardless. His duties, meanwhile, would be left in his captains' capable hands.

He came to a halt a few meters away, and addressed her, "Empress," he bowed his head, "I would accompany you."


 
Children's laughter cut through the usual din of dock work. The men and women unloading crates or repairing their riggings cast curious glances over to where the noise was coming from and allowed the odd melody to sooth the harsh sea-crusted lines of their face. Work went on but there was less urgency to it now and idle chatter broke out amongst some groups; an oddity indeed for the docks.

The cause of the disruption was down on the sands beneath the large wooden docks. Children who worked up above had been lured away by the curious woman who had been seen playing with the water itself. The first girl to have spotted her, Niamhi, had rushed off to tell Farrock who had told Zena who had told Ghazi who had told... Well it didn't matter who he had told, Niamhi was the one who had found her and she stood in the midst of the group of gawping children grinning like a Cheshire cat. Watching this was far more fun than working with mumma and who could tell her not to admire one of the Vizier's?

"Do a bird!"

Noelani laughed huskily but swept her hands up and the waves followed, shifting from the form of a dog into that of two birds that swooped and dived above the children's head much to their delight. She hadn't sought out the audience but she didn't mind it either. Whenever she visited the city everyone seemed so serious; something that was incredibly at odds with her islands. If she could bring a little bit of amusement to their day then so be it.

"An elephant!"

Lani arched a brow but then sucked in a deep breath. The ships bobbed unsteadily as the waves rushed in and then bubbled beneath her feet, lifting her higher into the air as it writhed beneath her. The feet took shake first, followed by its belly, then its head, tusks and ears. The seawitch herself was perched on its back having risen into the air as the water creature had grown. The children whooped below just as she caught sight of the person she had come to meet, now she was level with the docks.
 
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Many might've found it difficult to recognize the Vizier of the Sun from his subordinates given his preference for covering himself and wearing relatively mundane garb. Not Medja. She knew him by his very footsteps, his gait, his voice. She felt his approach and, even among the refreshing sea breeze and ever harsh sun above, she felt a familiar warmth fill her chest.

The sorceress turned and smiled at his greeting. The grand general was certainly not an expected arrival, but Medja would never turn away his presence.
"Good day, dear Sun," She returned his greeting, happy and assured that his presence would be a great boon. "You're more than welcome to. In fact, I think this little expedition will be all the better for it."

It wasn't long before the commotion of children trailing Noelani caught Medja's ear. The Stars knew the Moon was a whimsical thing, but to see the admiral of the Imperial navy giving an impromptu circus to the local youth was...somehow inspiring. Were there any substantial amount of sand or stone nearby to move without causing wanton destruction in the process, Medja might've joined in on the show. Alas, both time and order took precedence over whimsy.

Still, Medja offered a joyed wave to her fellow Vizier as she approached atop her liquid loxodon. With three Viziers working in tandem, their success was all but certain.

"Not much longer now, I should think..." Medja thought aloud to no one in particular. With any luck, the small collection of ships Medja had pulled together and allocated to this particular affair would be ready to set sail.
 
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"Good day, dear Sun...
...You're more than welcome to. In fact, I think this little expedition will be all the better for it."

Though his garb covered his mouth, his eyes clearly showed his smile. He bowed his head graciously once more at her approval before his attention too was turned to the next to arrive - the sea witch, Vizier of the Moon, Noelani. Her ways were very unlike his, but he found no fault in them and could appreciate the sense of wonderment she managed to inspire in not only the children but the dock-hands as well. Times were few and far where the heart could feel light.

He extended a wordless but friendly gesture of greeting to her before his eyes turned toward the ships moored there. There were not many, but certainly enough to generate some attention. A small fleet of Imperial ships was still a fleet of Imperial ships - no doubt this excursion would be noticed by a number of potentially threatening sights. He would have to keep himself alert.

"I've never spent much time at sea..." he said somewhat quietly as he looked up at the masted vessels.


 
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"It is not all that different to the sands, just a lot less tiring on your feet."

Upon seeing those whom she had come to meet, Noelani had bid the children goodbye with a small wave before turning the water beneath her into a series of delicate little steps which she took down to the dock. Once on the firm wood the water wormed its way back into the sea like a tentacle of some great sea beast.

In preparation for the voyage they were about to take the Mchawi Princess had braided her hair into a series of delicate plaits decorated with beautiful yet simple beads. Her outfit was the traditional one of the Namaka; a blue skirt and matching top that looked to be made of some sort of leather but upon closer inspect was actually made of scales like that of a fish. It's armour like quality combined with its resistance to water was what made it so highly sought after by her people. The ceremonial dagger at her hip gleamed in the sun and as always she appeared bare-footed.

Graciously she fisted her hand over her heart and bowed causing the Ocean Stones in her ears and about her throat to glitter.

"Are there many others we are waiting for?"
 
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"I've never spent much time at sea..."
Medja looked to a nearby ship and grimaced. Perhaps it wouldn't come as much of a surprise to anyone that she was no big fan of being out in open waters.
"Nor have I, dear Sun," She muttered in kind, none too excited by the prospect of sailing. "But my duty to the Empire now demands it."

Noelani, on the other hand, seemed all too excited to get underway. Also unsurprising; the sea was her element, both literally and metaphorically. The only thing that gave Medja any sort of confidence in this excursion was her presence, her display of mastery over her watery craft only serving to reinforce that confidence.

She returned Noelani's very formal bow with a prim and polite curtsey of her own, feet never daring to dip too close to the wood of the docks. Then she turned to observe as a pair of dockhands loaded a large, clay vessel onto one of the ships. A similar looking, if much smaller, pair of vessels adorned her hips this day, seemingly strapped onto her by the same clay-laden bandages that covered her forearms, ankles, and waist.
"I'm uncertain. I always tend to invite a multitude of Hands to these sorts of things, but I respect that each of them have their own schedules to abide by. We're busier than ever, after all." The Vizier tapped her chin thoughtfully as what looked to be the last of the journey's supplies were loaded aboard. "There was a Sha, one Loxa Visl I had been lead to believe might be joining our little treasure hunt, but that one is...shall we say, free spirited?"
 
"Nor have I, dear Sun," She muttered in kind, none too excited by the prospect of sailing. "But my duty to the Empire now demands it."

He nodded, though he did not fully understand. Given her talents he wouldn't exactly expect her to set sail every chance she was given. As to why she did now he imagined that would become clear to him as they carried out their journey, but if he was one to say then it would have been known just how curious he was about what would provoke her to take to the sea at a time like this. Instead though, he was not, and so his curiosity would have to be sated later.

"It is not all that different to the sands, just a lot less tiring on your feet."

"That may be, but the sands don't threaten to swallow you down into their depths... very often," he turned his head to her as he replied, amusement clear in his eyes and his tone.


 
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It looked all well and good now, a group of known friends getting together for a trip. A group of people who seemingly knew each other, even if only superficially. Who could possibly add something to this mix? Enter...Constantine.

A tall, muscular man whose skin was alabaster colored, deathly even, carrying an inhumane tone to it. He was tall, but not unusually so, as it wasn't that rare for a human to reach the height of 196 cm, which was Constantine's rough stature. He was bald, shaven clear, and wearing simplistic clothes. A pair of black boots, brown trousers, and a sleeveless gambeson vest. This peculiar lack of sleeves was exactly the thing that betrayed his unusually muscular arms. His body was covered in a multitude of shapely carvings, eyes, mouth symbols and strange runes were scattered irregularly across the man's frame. Even his forehead was adorned by an alien-looking symbol.

It consisted of a long vertical marking starting from just below the man's non-existing hairline to almost the end of his nose tip. Its middle was intercepted by an elongated U and two marks on the temple as well. They screamed "warlock" or "sorcerer", but the simplistic attire, the muscle mass, and the way he carried himself appeared militant, if not a little warrior-ish.

Constantine looked right, left, and behind himself, making sure that no unwanted visitors were following him. Once certain that there was no one but him and the people ahead, he proceeded forward with feline grace. Constantine wasn't the type to have paranoid fits, but this was no ordinary situation, nor did it involve ordinary people. These people were viziers, well, at least the three of them were. The Vizier of Stars, Vizier of the Imperial Army, and the Vizier of the Moon. Constantine eyed them intently, even from afar, it took some fortitude to muster up enough courage to approach. He wasn't the most sociable person, but it wouldn't hurt to try. Constantine needed employment, and he needed to get himself familiarized with the empire and its people. What better way could there be to do so than by consulting with those who held rankings of power within the empire itself?

His footsteps became more audible as he approached. Constantine's boots made some creaky sounds while grazing the dock's semi-wet planks. It took him but a few seconds to get within the group's earshot. Once close enough, he made a few exaggerated coughs, hoping to catch their attention.
Medja
Ashuanar
Noelani
 
Noelani's laugh made several dockhands turn and smile. It was as warm as the summers sun and as inviting as a cool drink after a long day of working. She clapped Ashuanar on the shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze whilst turning her smile to Medja. It was hardly surprising that the pair would be uncomfortable far away from land but the Vizier of the Moon was more than confident the journey would be the least of their problems.

"The Mother will have to wait to welcome us into her home. You sail with a Namaka," she hoped the confidence she had in herself and her crew would settle their minds. As conversation turned back to business Lani grew sombre once more and gave a thoughtful nod whilst glancing out at the waves. "Well, we should sail soon to catch the favourable winds. If nobody shows in the next..."

Cough. Cough. Cough.

Lani's eyes slid to the newcomer hovering just on the precipice of their gathering and offered a welcoming smile.

"One of yours, Medja?"
 
IN THE ZAMI FEIN TAILOR SHOP


"Stand still."

"I am."

"Not with all that fidgeting you're not."

Kade let out a huff of air through his nose and then took in a breath and adjusted his stance and tried again. Ah, but it was difficult. Of course, right? For all of the things Kade imagined happening on his trip to Annuakat to compete in the Tower of Tribulations, being summoned by the Emperor was, heh, it most certainly wasn't one of them. But what a story he'd have for his little sister and little brother! Mom might faint, and Dad might be stunned beyond words, rare as that was for him.

Light from the outside filtered in through the intricate circular wooden designs on the windows, and altogether the interior tailor shop's main room had a golden and amber ambience to it. Much like the man Zami himself, his shop was meticulously arranged, everything neat and in its place, every ream of material placed like the pillars of a masterwork pantheon upon the shelves and every square of material folded and laid out like the tiles therein upon the tables. There were a few mannequins about, and, well, Kade had to make like one of them.

"That good?"

"Better," said Zami, the venerable old tailor who was first measuring and then would be fitting Kade for some new clothes. Everything about Zami was precise and exact: his groomed white hair and beard, his perfect finery, the symmetrical jewelry he wore, even the wrinkles across his brow and fanning out from his eyes. The man had an air of expert authority. "Arms out."

Kade did as instructed. He kept up the conversation though because, gods, he just had to, or else the nervous jitters would get to him again. "That silk you showed me earlier was, uh, whoo, it was soft. Plush. Awfully expensive, isn't it?"

"More expensive than the potato sack and loose rags you're wearing now," Zami said, keeping his eyes on his work. He held his measuring rope to the length of Kade's right arm and examined closely the tick marks upon it.

"They're not...not that bad," Kade said. What was so wrong with his clothes anyway? He was excited about meeting the Emperor, absolutely, but the guards that had summoned him brought him here first, and the tailor Zami was already expecting him. Like this was all planned.

"They are certainly insufficient to be in the presence of the Empress," said Zami, shifting to Kade's left arm then.

Kade blinked. Once. Then twice more. The slight against his attire lost by the last detail of what Zami had said. "Empress?"

"Yes. Empress."

A cavalcade of perplexing and quite possibly wildly entertaining thoughts about what might have happened to Gerra went parading through Kade's mind. "Empress. When did that happen?"

Zami actually paused in his work for a moment. Gave Kade a reproachful look. Stated more than asked, "You really do not know."

"...No? I guess I don't?"

"Emperor Gerra has departed the throne for a time. It is Empress Medja for the time being."

"Medja? The Vizier of Stars?" Hot sands, she was the one who'd organized the whole Tower of Tribulations. He had been that close to the Empress and he didn't even know it. What a trip, this was going to be a wallop of a story for his family to hear. Sure thing.

"At least you know that. Isn't she from Ragash, like yourself?"

"I don't know. Is she?"

Zami sighed. He hadn't truly been asking Kade that, his question purely rhetorical. He went back to his measuring work. "I feel now that your attire will be the least of your concerns."

"You're telling me."

Zami crouched and began to measure Kade's legs. "Do you have the slightest idea how lucky you are, young man?"

"I dabble in luck, you could say. I'm awfully aware, yeah."


"Lords and nobles and sultans and sheikhs alike all struggle for the time of day," mused Zami, "but a street rodent like you is allowed an audience with Her Imperial Majesty."

"Is that what I'm supposed to call her? Her Imperial Majesty?"


Zami just looked up from his work. Gave Kade a stern look until he thought it wise to relent. "I'll call her Her Imperial Majesty."

Zami resumed his measuring, wrapping the tick-marked rope about Kade's waist. He said then, "It is not mine to know why someone like you has been so summoned. But, I would advise you, young man, to show the utmost respect to the Empress. You likely cannot even conceive of the power she wields, so beyond the scope of your understanding is it. More than just lives, the fate of whole cities and entire peoples hang on the balance of utterances and proclamations so given by her. She is the Empire. Do you understand?"

Kade, breaking the rule to stand still without really thinking about it, nodded and said, "Yeah. I understand."

Zami again paused his work. Met Kade with that stony gaze again. "Do you, young man, un-der-stand?"

Something about the way Zami was looking at him made Kade at last realize the sheer immensity of what he was getting into. This. Was. The. Empress. Not just someone who was well-known and who just by meeting them or even just being in their presence would make for that good story he was thinking about. The. Empress. There was a reason he thought Mom would likely faint and thought Dad would likely be stunned. Because it was the Empress. The Empress herself.

Oh.

Oh gods.

Kade swallowed. Lifted his eyes and stared straight forward. "I...I understand."

Zami gave a small nod. Went back to his work. "Good."

And a second later said it again.

"Good."

* * * * *​
 
IN THE ZAMI FEIN TAILOR SHOP

The thief glared at her reflection in the mirror. She had been listening to the conversation between Zami and Kade, both amused and unnerved by the latter's naivety. Unlike him, Rania knew exactly what she wanted, what looked good on her – and how to present herself. She didn’t think that now was a good time to try and impress the empress, especially not with something as trivial as appearances, but she’d dolled up a bit regardless, figuring that it was the standard amongst those people.

Clad in her usual black pants and boots and one of Zami’s finest green tunics – a colour to match her eyes – Rania no longer hid herself underneath a long cloak. Instead, she put herself and her weaponry on display. Her long, sleek hair was braided into a high ponytail and a golden hair clip gathered whatever loose strands would have fallen into her face.

As Rania exited the dressing room she put on a pair of black gloves and walked up to Kade, who was still being put together by the tailor. “That little lesson might be worth more than the entire outfit you’re wearing now,” she said with a smile and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Since the Tower of Tribulations had ended a few days ago, the two of them had been awkwardly stuck with one another and even though the young lad was good company, there was something strange about the sudden companionship – at least to her.

Rania wasn’t used to this, but at the same time this was the path she had chosen and the path she would follow.

“Hurry now,” she said and arched her chin towards the door she was now slowly heading towards.

“There’s a limit to how late is still considered fashionable.”

Kade Anvar
 
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IN THE ZAMI FEIN TAILOR SHOP


That little lesson might be worth more than the entire outfit you're wearing now.

"Yeah, I'll say."

At least he wasn't alone; a heavy lift is always easier with two, Dad was fond of saying. The same band of guards that had summoned him had also summoned Rania, the friend he'd made in the unlikely midst of the competition of the Tower. Kade couldn't say one way or the other if they were it, or if there were others, but, heh, it eased his nerves a little to know that he hadn't been the only one summoned by the Empress. If it had just been him, what would it have been for? Finally getting a hand chopped off for all of the petty thievery? A giddy surge of energy made Kade chuckle a bit at the thought: he wouldn't have known whether to be honored or terrified if that was the case.

Kade made a theatrical glance down at his own outfit, then over Rania's. Said, "Look at that. We match."

They did, for the most part, both with prominent shades of green. Kade's new shirt, pants, and vest were all of meshing earthen tones. He did not look like a prince, but neither did he look overburdened with poverty--even if the latter remained true beneath Zami's finery.

Zami buttoned the final button on Kade's vest, and commented, "It seemed appropriate, since it appears you apparently..." he cast an disparaging eye toward Kade's old clothes and finished flatly, "...like green so much."

"Well," Kade said, pressing his palms flush to his new attire and running them down, flattening and straightening everything and getting a better feel for it. "Rania's right. We'd best 'appropriate' our way over to the docks. Time's only marching toward sunset."

"Yes. You should." Zami drew in a sharp, nasally breath. "I've done all that I can do here."

Kade stepped down from the small pedestal, still taller than the elderly Zami, and walked--perhaps with something of a new lease on confidence, courtesy of his finer attire--toward the shop's door with Rania.

"No big deal, right?" Kade said, making conversation. "Just the most powerful woman on all of Liadain. Just the person who could make or break our lives and the lives of our families with a single word. Just another day in Annuakat. Heh."

The clothes could only do so much.

Rania
 
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"That may be, but the sands don't threaten to swallow you down into their depths... very often,"
This elicited a tittering laugh from the Empress-to-be. It was so unlike Ashuanar to be lacking his usual boldness, but she understood completely. These were unfamiliar waters that the two of them would be treading, so to speak.
"Worry not, dear Sun. I'm not one to go unprepared whilst venturing into unknowns." Medja offered, then gave a knowing glance to the young admiral. "And with Noelani at our side, I'm certain things will go as smoothly as one can expect."

Significantly more waiting was now fully what Medja expected to occupy the coming minutes as she watched more supplies be hauled onto the royal vessel, but that was apparently not to be the case. Clomping boots and exaggerated throat clearing signaled the arrival of an unfamiliar face. So far as she knew, this one wasn't even among the freshly recruited Granite Hands from the recent tournament she'd held.

"One of yours, Medja?"

She examined the man carefully and, after searching her mental notes, folded her arms across her chest and offered the newcomer a wave of her fingers.
"No, I can't say that he is. I am, however, not in a position to decline aid right now." She answered below the din of the docks, without breaking eye contact with the man. Such a thing was uncharacteristic of Medja. She surrounded herself with those she trusted explicitly; new faces were unknown variables, future problems. Yet even so, part of her old self invited the potential chaos. A little shakeup now and then could just make this more entertaining. For now, she'd eye him expectantly...if he wanted the attention of the Empress, he'd have to earn it.

In the meantime, there were at least two hopeful Hands that Medja was waiting to see. The young duo of Kade Avar and Rania had performed quite admirably at the Tower of Tribulations, evading her top enforcer with remarkable cleverness and grace. She'd be eager to see what they would contribute in the coming journey, if they decided to show up...
 
Nearby, leaning against a stack of crates next to the soon-to-depart ship, Tulio rolled a silver coin over his fingers, smoothly passed it under his palm, and repeated the sequence as he whistled a quaint tune to himself.

The elf had watched the small group for a while, grew bored, and began to watch the waves crash against the hull of a nearby ship. That, too, became boring much too quickly.

Ting.

With his thumb, Tulio flicked the coin into the sea. Then, pushing off the crates, the information broker swaggered across the dock to introduce himself.

"Hello~," he lilted, not caring that he interrupted whatever matters were at hand, "I'm Tulio. And-" he gave the Empress a once-over, "-you are just as Fi' described."
 
As the three talked the Sea Witch kept half an eye on the men and women scurrying about her ships deck. Everyone had a role and everything had a set place that was vital to a good voyage. It would be lax of any Captain not to keep some kind of eye on things even if she was occupied with other matters. She would be lying if she said she was not impatient to be off though. The sea was a constant call and she longed to be far out of the sight of the land. It didn't seem like that was going to be for quite a while however as another person appeared with a cryptic introduction.

Lani threw Ashuanar a smile she hoped would be comforting before her eyes caught sight of one of the cargo loaders setting down his load in the wrong place and with a shout in her own tongue was off up the plank.
 
Lani's eyes slid to the newcomer hovering just on the precipice of their gathering and offered a welcoming smile.

"One of yours, Medja?"
The man raised an eyebrow, gauging Medja's reaction.

"I am a newcomer, yes," stated Constantine with a hint of interest in his voice. Pacing towards the ship, he snorted, inhaling and exhaling the uncomfortably salty air around them.

The other woman seemed friendly, inviting even. He shot her a light-hearted smile, the best he could muster without grimacing awkwardly.

"It is a pleasure." His posture changed, ever-so-slightly lurching forward, a subtle but not subservient bow. The greeting was by no means formal, which it should've been judging by Noelani's rank. Still, Constantine paid little mind to the etiquette, obeying only the tenants of common decency.

"I am Constantine, a sorcerer, or wizard, depending on the definition you wish to follow."
She examined the man carefully and, after searching her mental notes, folded her arms across her chest and offered the newcomer a wave of her fingers.
"No, I can't say that he is. I am, however, not in a position to decline aid right now." She answered below the din of the docks, without breaking eye contact with the man. Such a thing was uncharacteristic of Medja. She surrounded herself with those she trusted explicitly; new faces were unknown variables, future problems. Yet even so, part of her old self invited the potential chaos. A little shakeup now and then could just make this more entertaining. For now, she'd eye him expectantly...if he wanted the attention of the Empress, he'd have to earn it.

In the meantime, there were at least two hopeful Hands that Medja was waiting to see. The young duo of Kade Avar and Rania had performed quite admirably at the Tower of Tribulations, evading her top enforcer with remarkable cleverness and grace. She'd be eager to see what they would contribute in the coming journey, if they decided to show up...

"You are Medja, are you not? I doubt that my sight is failing me, but it doesn't hurt to make sure."
Constantine reached into his pocket, retrieving a piece of parchment roughly folded between his index and digit finger.

It appeared cracked but not old. Cracked from the way Constantine was handling it. Nonetheless, Constantine must've attained the thing not long ago, judging by its relatively even pigmentation.

"I've procured information regarding your soon-to-be voyage, the date of the departure and have, therefore, concluded." Constantine opened his mouth, intending to say something, but stopped mid-thought, leaving his maw agape.

A brief, barely detectable glare squeezed itself through his expressionless features. Constantine needed to pony up a good reason for Medja to keep him around. Proclaiming himself as a master of the arcane was the first step directed towards that goal.

"It'd...be in my best interest to accompany you. The old world has little to offer me at the moment."

"Will you accept my residence aboard your vessel?"
 
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Medja was more than keen to allow Noelani and Ashuanar to go about their business by this point. They were her fellows and, for now, her equals. There were few in existence whose competence she had more faith in. However, today seemed a day for entertaining newcomers, untrusted wildcards. Now was the time to weigh their worth. While her fellow Viziers tended to their departure, Medja would do a bit of...evaluation.


"It is a pleasure."

"I imagine it is, yes." The sorceress mused. She rested her chin on the back of her palm while she listened to the ashen-skinned man's introduction. There was much to pick apart here.

An extra mage was always good, yes, but of what kind? This one's reserved choice of words were somewhat troubling, and what he had let slip even more so.
"You know who I am and have approached me so brazenly, all the same. You have, supposedly, somehow learned of what I am doing here today, and yet are confident enough to announce that fact. You claim that joining me is in your best interest, but have hardly provided a reason for why it might be mine." The regent intoned, an eyebrow raised at the mysterious sorcerer. "At the very least your bluster has earned my attention."

She was about to question him further when another unfamiliar voice caught her ear.

"I'm Tulio. And-" he gave the Empress a once-over, "-you are just as Fi' described."

The floating sorceress glanced over to take in the sight of a swaggering elf who'd sauntered up beside her, the mere mention of that name enough to immediately draw all of her attention. His approach earned a smirk and a curious glance from Medja, and her posture visibly relaxed.
"Mmm, greetings 'Tulio.' Fieravene did say she'd be sending a confidante of sorts this way. I was beginning to wonder when you'd show." She returned the greeting, similarly regarding the elf for a moment. "I must say, you are somehow simultaneously not and exactly what I expected."

She pressed a thoughtful finger to her bottom lip, coffee-colored hair blowing gently in the ocean breeze.
"I suppose that begs the question: are the both of you here on dear Fi's request?"
 
The elf's brows shot up, and he smirked. Confidante sure did mean a lot coming from their slender, dark-skinned mutual. It seems Fieravene put in an even better word than he'd expected. Tulio's lips thinned as his smirk stretched into a broad smile. Never early, never late. Words to live by. Truly.

Tulio's crimson gaze lazily swept over the sorcerer. "Never met him before," he said quickly and plainly.

The elf took two steps back and halfheartedly bowed. "Now that pleasantries have been exchanged, I think I'll go find a quiet place to sit. Be seeing you, Highness."

Like the tide, Tulio came and went. He sauntered off to the soon-to-depart ship and glided up the plank to do just as described.
 
An extra mage was always good, yes, but of what kind? This one's reserved choice of words were somewhat troubling, and what he had let slip even more so.
"You know who I am and have approached me so brazenly, all the same. You have, supposedly, somehow learned of what I am doing here today, and yet are confident enough to announce that fact. You claim that joining me is in your best interest, but have hardly provided a reason for why it might be mine." The regent intoned, an eyebrow raised at the mysterious sorcerer. "At the very least your bluster has earned my attention."

She was about to question him further when another unfamiliar voice caught her ear.
"I am sure you can imagine. I am of the thought that, as a politician, you must do a lot of mental gymnastics to run the empire, but that is beside the point."

Constantine clasped together his gloved hands, tightly pressing his palms against one another. "My sorcery is too complex to be summarized in mere few sentences." A swirl of blue particles formed around Constantine. They glowed faintly, pulsing as if filled with life, moving as if conscious.

As if compelled by forces unseen, the energy spiraled, phasing into Constantine's grasp, disappearing. Constantine looked down, carefully parting his hands as lighting crackled outwards, alerting all present of its existence.

Lightning, destructive as it was, did no harm to bystanders, seemingly under Constantine's fine-tuned control. Instead, it formed a sphere of pure, blue-white plasma that should've rightfully seared the flesh off Constantine's bones. Surprisingly enough, he was unharmed.

"For now, you needn't know more than this. Which is to say that I can fight and do...other, equally useful things, things that can and will be discussed at a later date."

Constantine recalled his magic, and the ball shrunk into non-existence, disappearing as quickly and as abruptly as it came into being.

"It'd be better to have me fight for than against you, would it not?"

She pressed a thoughtful finger to her bottom lip, coffee-colored hair blowing gently in the ocean breeze.
"I suppose that begs the question: are the both of you here on dear Fi's request?"
"What the..." Constantine took one glance at Tulio, rose an eyebrow, and promptly rolled his muscular shoulders, shrugging, "...sharp-eared gentleman said. It is a first-time meeting for both of us."
 
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"Now that pleasantries have been exchanged, I think I'll go find a quiet place to sit. Be seeing you, Highness."
Leave it to Fieravene to find a similarly charming individual for this escapade. If she didn't know any better, the sorceress might've thought that her dark elf companion had begun to catch on to her type. Maybe the actual sailing portion of this trek didn't have to be entirely tedious.

Then Constantine's prattle pulled Medja back into the moment. She listened. She leaned her face upon a hand. She observed his droll little display of sorcery. And when he finished, she blinked blankly at the man and let a single, exasperated laugh slip past her lips.

"It is a first-time meeting for both of us."

Medja's gaze narrowed.
"First and last, I fear." She sighed dismissively. If this man had spoken like this to Gerra he'd have been executed so fast that the gods of the afterlife would have been reeling days later. But Medja was no despot. She had promised not to sink to that low Even still, there was no room for this level of disrespect. She had given him a chance to speak on the assumption that perhaps he was simply bold; in fact, he'd turned out to be foolishly simple.

"Mister...Constantine, was it? I'm not sure where you acquired your information, but I'm quite certain you'll find it outdated or simply wrong." She started in calmly, doing her best to hide her irritation behind a mask of professionalism practiced over the course of centuries. "First, I am no mere politician; I am the Empress Regent of Amol-Kalit. Second, your irreverent attempts at impressing me with your magic fall laughably short; I am the greatest sorceress in Liadain, the Second Sage of Geomancy. And you--"

Medja fought the urge to let loose in spectacular fashion. There were so many ways she could make an example, so many ruinous things she could do with her own magic that she so rarely got to cut loose with.
'I am not Gerra...' She reminded herself.

"--you have overstayed your welcome in this city. I suggest you find your way out within the hour." With that, Medja turned her back on the ashen-skinned man. She paused only to further dismiss him. "Good day, mister Constantine."

Floating fists in tow, she withdrew onto the ship, commanding servants to finish their preparations with just a few hand gestures as she ascended the gangplank.

--

Preparations were indeed almost complete. With the aid of Noelani and her sailors, the ship was ready to make its way towards the horizon and on towards a new chapter in the Empire's destiny. Unless any last-second arrivals or stowaways happened aboard, the group would be headed onwards in a mere few minutes.
 
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Noelani's confidence had indeed assured Ashuanar's mind. She was Vizier of the Moon, grand admiral of the fleet, and she was of the sea. It was folly of him to doubt under the watch of one such as her.

His eyes turned away from the water and up to the ship that lay in wait for the order to be given. He admired it for a moment, before having his attention stolen to those who came near. They conversed with Medja, and he remained to the side. To them, he likely looked like nothing more than just another of Medja's entourage, hardly worth so much as a glance, as he would have it. Perhaps the feeling of being watched would attract their eyes, as he indeed watched closely as each interacted with her.

His stare followed Tulio only as far as the ship, then they were back upon the Empress and her audience. This sorcerer had sparked frustration in her, which prompted him to step closer.


 
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"CAST OFF!"

The call relayed from mouth to mouth down the length of the sleek boat Noelani had singled out for the voyage. Her own ship. The Empire had done well in days past with the building of their own navy but since her appointment, Lani had bought with her the wealth and centuries of knowledge the Machawi people possessed about making the quickest, fleetest ships to sail the Western Seas. This - the Dawn Treader - had been the first built right here in the Empires jewelled capital. Her crew were an eclectic mix of races and people from across the Empire who had wanted to learn and be a part of the new era. As such their outfits were a cacophony of tropes from the baggy garments of the sand elves to the bare chested women and men of the Trident Isles.

Lani had hopped onto the prowl of the ship and made her way out onto the figurehead that protruded out front. With her eyes closed she breathed in deep the rich salty scent of the ocean below her, listened for that constant sound of drumming she could feel in her very pulse, and then she weaved.

Fighting on land was one thing with bits of water to call on but it was another to see the Sea Witch in her true element. The waves trembled beneath the wood and as the anchor was hastily hoisted the waves rushed up to the stern and propelled it out into the sea. The sleek low-lying vessel sliced across the waves like a knife through butter but for those looking closely it would rightly look as though the ship and sails did little at all. It was the ocean herself who did the work in propelling the boat along.

Once they were a fair way out and the city behind was a smudge on the horizon Lani finally let her magic go with a sigh and clambered back onto the decks where sails would take over for the time being. She plopped herself back amongst the circle of her guests on the part of a raised deck. She had specifically set up the area for her guests to talk whilst out in the fresh air rather than confined to the more humble and tightly packed cabins they had below. Chairs were bolted firmly to the deck, as was the table, and a parasol to keep the heat of the sun off those gathered.

She plucked up a cool glass of punch and took a sip before flinging her legs over the arm of the chair.

"So, will you tell us now what exactly it is we are hunting for?"
 
As the Dawn Treader was urged forth by the vast ocean, Tulio peered over the edge of the deck, brows joyfully lifted as a result of their sudden departure. Machawi sea witches were few and far between, and though he'd met another before, it was his first time seeing one at work on the high seas. The whole gimmick earned a single low whistle from the elf. However, it didn't take long for the novelty to wear off, and soon enough, he was occupying himself elsewhere on the ship.

Though Tulio was absent from the meeting, an unearthly black and purple vulture perched itself on the mainmast above where the ship's prominent guests sat. Its red eyes focused on the table and those that sat around it, and it only ever looked away to preen.
 
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Ashuanar, ever the staunch and devoted man that he was...his movement in on the conversation with the ashen-skinned sorcerer was not lost on Medja, and she found herself smiling. She would have to treat him to some much deserved pampering later. Thankfully, his intervention was not needed - the intruder had given up and left without much fuss, and it was time to be underway.

Noelani was a wonder to watch in her natural element. The voyage lacked in Hands (sans the ever stalwart Rhix who'd been working below deck before now), but seeing the Vizier of the Moon and princess of the Mchawi work her magic gave the regent a well placed surge of confidence. This trip would be a success. It had to be.

At first, Medja had been hesitant to set down upon the ship's deck. With her manner of levitation she could keep herself effectively free of the nauseating bobbing a vessel usually experienced, though she would have to be constantly moving herself or else be left behind. The manner in which the ship moved, however...it was more like a fish than a construct. It sailed -- no, it swam so smoothly, another one of Noelani's blessings, to be sure.

By the time their little charter was out to sea Medja had found herself reclining with a drink in hand.

"So, will you tell us now what exactly it is we are hunting for?"

Medja glanced up at her fellow Vizier and noticed the presence of the strange looking avian above. There was an odd level of familiarity that it offered, one that was decidedly comfortable rather than suspicious.

"Of course, dear. I'd have gotten to it sooner if not for certain...rude intrusions..." She offered in reply, teasing a sip of her drink from its glass. The regent sat up and produced a map from a nearby bag, rolling it out onto the table.

"I've been doing quite some research as of late. Aramekh, the man whom I learned my magic from, was said to be able to shape continents on a whim. He hid a great many artifacts across Liadain, and likely all of Arethil." Medja explained to those around her and gestured to the floating fists that oft accompanied her, presently inert at beside her chair. A confident smile spanned the woman's face. "We are looking for a few of the implements I believe he used to accomplish that feat. This one in particular is said to lie within a place called Mazar-Juma -- the Oasis of Bone."

The grin broadened. There was something quite exhilarating about pushing into the unknown. It was a feeling she hadn't had since last she'd gone delving into Aramekh's hidden temples.

"It is supposed to be somewhere around here," Medja asserted, tapping the map in a spot that she'd marked where there seemed to be naught but open ocean. "But as you can see, so far as anyone is concerned, nothing is there. Of course, if my sources are to believed -- and they are -- that isn't wholly true. There is something there: a coral reef."