***

The gate captain bolted through the moonlit halls of the Capital’s Keep, well–manicured stone floors rattling with his steps. Those few servants who were still awake at that hour hurried from his path, their cloaks and hoods billowing as they dodged, and the occasional potted plant even fluttered with his speed as he passed. The Keep guards, wearing bronze armor like his, shuffled in place as he ran, wondering if they would soon need to use their spears. When he arrived at his destination, he caught his breath and composed himself, before opening the doors to the main meeting hall. 

The governors inside were crowded around the waist-high table without a single wick for light. Some looked like they had just been roused from bed, others were cloaked in noble and ornate vestments, others in more traditional sleeping clothes, but they each had a cup in hand and all spun at the intrusion. 

The captain cleared his throat and made his way to the end of the table.

He was quite happy the darkness obscured his flushed cheeks as every figure glared at him. Avoiding their leers more, he glanced at the table they surrounded. Wooden figures, cups, and an imported green candle were spread about in an ad hoc depiction of the surrounding area, allowing the court to plan.

Though it wasn’t the first time he had seen them, they watched him with suspicious eyes, piercing him like a bull’s horns. The discussion he interrupted wasn’t going well as the tension in the room was tangible.

Making his way past the ceiling length window that replaced the wall and the slouched record keeper making a log of the meeting, he placed his fists together and bowed at the man positioned at the head of the table. “Lord Hegwous.” 

“Yes?” Lord Hegwous answered. 

The Lord’s head was the only thing visible above his all–encompassing black sable cloak, besides the silvery trim lining the vestment. His black hair hung all the way to his hips, neatly combed, but in need of a cut as its length didn’t suit him. It was his skin, however, that was the most off-putting. While a few of the men and women around the table were fair enough to be from the far south of the plateau bordering the creature infested Valley beyond it, Lord Hegwous’ pallor was unmatched. He was nearly as white as raw cotton, the purple circles under his eyes making them appear sunken. His wrinkles were deep and sullen, and his trimmed facial hair made the illusion worse. The only bit of color on his person was the red gem he wore as an earring. It didn’t fit his ensemble and was far too large for it, fit more for a necklace or a crown. 

For the captain, his Lord’s slumped visage, looming over the planning figures, should have intimidated him. Even more so as Commander Gehsek stood behind Hegwous. 

The Commander of all Daksin’s armies was the most heavily armored man in the keep, even more than a general, gleaming in every facet of bronze one could attach to a man with as many jewels stuffed wherever they could fit. His broad, ostentatious red cape was marked with the elephant sigil of his lands. It was sewn in yellow thread in lieu of actual gold and made him shine even more in the pale moonlight.

Even with all the glamor and aura of intangible power, the captain could swear Hegwous’ cloak was simply an unusually heavy blanket.

“I have a report.” He shook his head, and bowed again, still having never gotten used to the Lord’s whiteness.

“I would assume,” Lord Hegwous sighed. The others stayed silent.

Lord Hegwous’ speech was stunted. He was foreign, and not only from his look, but by how roughly he spoke the local tongue. Even though the south’s language didn’t demand it, he made each syllable rise and fall like music. He spoke fluently, but couldn’t help putting his own mother tongue’s melody on his words.

“R-right. A noble came through the north gate.”

Hegwous straightened up like a frightened bird. His neck cracked as he whipped his attention to the door as if someone were coming through then. When no one did, he slid across the floor with blinding speed. The captain barely leapt out of the way of his towering Lord, who moved like a drop of water through a stream. Hegwous slammed his hands against the door frame and made the room jump, the bricks cracked under his cadaverous fingers. He shot his gaze up and down the hall.

No one, save a startled servant.

A silence hung over the meeting room as the Lord and every governor turned to the captain. Their gazes pinned him to the spot, but Commander Gehsek spoke up.

“A little early for any of the Gwomon to arrive, especially from the north.” His skin was the same earthen brown as any southerner and his thick, graying hair was rigidly kept in place. He tapped his bejeweled sword pommel. Even without the gems, few generals in the Daksinian forces could afford a sword as long as his, if any at all. 

Hegwous relented with a sigh. 

The captain didn’t even see when his Lord’s boney hand had extended from his cloak to grab the door frame, but he could appreciate how unearthly the Lord’s movement looked. His cloak refused to move as he did, even as his hand seemed to dematerialize into its ebony folds, only to reappear to cup his chin.

“Continue,” Hegwous said.

“S-she um,” The captain regained his composure. “She was quite young, my Lord, wild hair and was quite dirty, carried a parasol, but she didn’t appear to have any currency on her. I’m not sure if she’s... Gwomoni. She could have been an imposter, I suppose, but she was much too fair to be a southerner and did have trouble passing through the fire’s light. And we didn’t hear her approach.” He paused, realizing it would explain how she was alive and alone in the Outside, at night. 

Hegwous noticed, fisting his hands. 

“But she carried a seal!” the captain continued. “We haven’t seen it before but it looked valid. It was a woman with bull horns, sitting betwee—” 

“Between a tiger, rhino, elephant, and turtle,” Lord Hegwous finished the man’s sentence monotonously.

Gehsek bit his tongue and the governors bristled, making the captain jump.

“Yes, my Lord.” He blinked.

“Thank you. That is all.” Hegwous passed the soldier again, sliding to the window. 

“But, my Lord. There was something else out there too, the runes—”

Everyone present bristled again at the word “runes” and Gehsek nodded to the door.

The captain swallowed his words, bowed, and took his leave as fast as wouldn’t look like he was fleeing. 

The governors muttered amongst themselves, scowling in the darkness as Hegwous gripped the banister along the length of the window, clenching and unclenching, fidgeting and trying to relax as his thoughts percolated.

“It is certainly just someone finding the seal and finding passage. Nothing to fear.” Gehsek tried waving the rest of Hegwous’ audience away. They all looked at each other pointedly.

“We still haven’t even gone over my compensation for the Scorching,” Sneered Governor Hoika in deep emerald green, crossing his thick arms. “It’s been two years.”

“Once Uttara is fully subdued—” Gehsek began but was cut off.

“Oh please!” Governor Doivi scoffed and threw her jamawar shawl over her neck, threaded with peacock feather patterns. “Don’t patronize us. We saw what did the Scorching. It wasn’t a northern spirit, we’re not commoners.”

“Once Uttara is fully subdued,” Gehsek furrowed his brow, “and the Gwomon depart, we can fully repatriate any damages from the war.”

“Damages?” Doivi chuckled.

“Every village I owned with a wooden wall was burned to the ground!” cried the head of house Bhida worryingly.

“If this keeps up I’m not sure I’ll be able to pay any of my taxes,” Governor Vitroi shrugged, the head of house Brthli.

“More criminals and corpses for blood. more food, more trade routes opened, our lands get burned and we’re expected to pay more?” the aging governor Traanla tutted. “All while Commander Gehsek’s lands grow fat from the port taxes! We’ve never even seen this Gwomon but we must prepare for them, outrageous.”

“We need that assistance, Lord Hegwous.” Hoika slammed his hands on the table. “We’ll have to raid each other just to survive.”

“You have more than enough from your trade routes.” Gehsek matched Hoika’s glare.

“And how are we to know if we are kept here for the Gwomon’s arrival?” Vitroi asked.

“My, tell us to stay for an embassy after burning our lands, then complain we’re not coordinating better taxes?” Traanla shook her head.

“How fitting someone found such an old seal! Even Janelsa Malihabar wouldn’t have literally burned her own land! It was folly!” Governor Doivi scoffed.

The banister snapped under Hegwous’ hands. “Tu sem’n beh!” he bellowed in his native tongue, his voice echoing through the hall and their bones.

They stepped back, their anger evaporating as the nigh invisible hem of Hegwous’ cloak began to rise. Gehsek, who had drawn his sword out of instinct at the shout, stepped back and shot a wary stare at the crowd.

They took the obvious hint, leaving with quick and silent steps.