* * * Mystic stood before a door she had stood before a dozen times before and marvelled at how this day had come about. She hadn’t expected it to be so easy, or so quick. Yet here she stood in Castle Drakmor about to have the very first meeting of Caretakers. She placed a hand against the worn door knob, then paused. Muffled voices drifted through the old oak to tickle her ears. “Ah, Her Gracious Grace of Dragonness is here,” drawled a familiar female voice with a Sudland accent. “I- I beg your pardon?” The drawn out vowels of the man’s voice added an extra note of incredulity to his question. “My tablet just died. And I left my backup in my room. You’d think I’d know better by now.” “I mean this with the utmost respect, Your Highness, but your tone is quite inappropriate. She is the High Princess.” The last two words were spoken with heavy emphasis and earned a drawn out sigh of disgust from the other speaker. “Uuugh with the titles. Listen, I know all this high and mightiness is still new to you, but you’ve got to grow a spine already. We’re on the same playing field now.” “I don’t- That’s not. She is the High Princess.” “Today, she is a Caretaker. Speaking to other Caretakers. Honestly, you could benefit from some lessons in self-esteem.” “And you could learn some manners.” Then, after a beat. “Your Highness.” “Oh, so close. You almost sounded confident there.” Mystic restrained a laugh but could not smother the smile that leapt to her lips. As much trouble as it had been to gain them, she was overwhelmed with joy at the knowledge that she now had peers in her field. Drawing a deep breath to center herself, she wiped the smile from her lips and opened the door. Three sets of eyes and three minds turned toward her in an instant. Though she’d only heard two speakers, she noted the third wedged into the corner of the room as if he could make himself one with the shadows.His brightly coloured robes and silken sash of station were at odds with his terrified expression. The poor, young thing was a clerk from Traxar. As their candidate for the Caretaker position was still offworld, they’d sent a representative to take notes on his behalf instead. Yet it was clear from one look at the man that he had not anticipated being shut in a room with three of the world’s most prominent figures. The other two were instantly familiar to the Red Mage. Hewlitt Oneya-Maes, former fifth level law clerk to Prince Reuss of Antiem, newly made Caretaker of the Antiem Warren, had responded to her summons with almost fanatic zeal. Though his Kane was still too young and too small to carry him, he’d requested transport and promised to be in Lanutha within a day. The man still looked the part of an overwhelmed clerk with his high-collared, slightly rumpled dress shirt and odd bits of hair escaping the tight ponytail pulled back from his temples, but at least he sat with his head held high and hands lacking their characteristic tremor. Sabrilla Alyssa Coranaet, crown nobili of House Coranaet and Caretaker of Sewyn Warren in Sudland, sat with her legs propped up on the table and her hands clasped behind her head. She’d long ago abandoned the doe-eyed appearance of a girl out of her depth. Dressed in tight fitted leggings, tall boots, and a cropped, white jacket done in the Barokian style, she looked the part of a leader in her element. It was a shame what it had cost for her to achieve that state. Mystic made one more pass of the room as she moved toward a seat, but she already knew that she would not find another figure hidden in a corner somewhere. Though the same missive had gone out to all princelets, Pentas had provided no response. “Greetings everyone. Thank you for coming out on such short notice. And before we begin,” Mystic turned a smile on Hewlitt, “Sabrilla has it right. We are equals here.” “Told you,” Sabrilla quipped. “That being said,” Mystic continued, “what we do today sets a precedent. This is the first meeting of the Caretakers of Tris’Hath.” She paused, the air catching in her throat as she said the words out loud. All eyes in the room fixed on her. Yes, this was real. She cleared her throat and took her seat. “The first, but undoubtedly not the last. We each have our own princelets to serve, our own people to look after, but it is imperative that we establish here and now that above all else, we stand for peace.” “Beautiful words, but peace isn’t exactly something we can pin down and tie a ribbon on,” Sabrilla said. “It’s more like the difference between red and white wine. Some people are very convinced they know which is better, but some people are very wrong.” “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Hewlitt muttered. “In fact, a lot more complicated. It’s more like the concept of magic. Not magic itself, but the arcane. The element that we can manipulate and see in effect, but can you hold magic? Can you test it?” “Yes. I do it on a regular basis.” Hewlitt stared at Sabrilla with owlish awe for a moment. “What? How?” “With machines, obviously. Mind you, the readings are never quite the same and sometimes the machines turn into… things.” “There, you see? You’re just proving my point.” “Hardly. You asked if I could measure it and I said I can. You never specified that the measurements had to be accurate.” “That’s the point of-” Hewlitt’s indignant response was interrupted by a short, muffled chuckle. Once again Mystic found all eyes on her, but this time she did not try to stifle her smile. This was everything she had ever hoped for. “Very well. The concept of peace requires some debate. Can we at least agree that we will aid each other in times of need? That we will work with our princes and our people to maintain the peace that has already been established? That when we present ourselves to the Nexus, we are a united front. We stand for Tris’Hath as one. Can we agree to that?” Sabrilla lifted her shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “I’m not signing anything, but that seems like a fair list.” “I will need to check in with Prince Reuss…” Hewlitt stared at the table rather than meet Sabrilla’s penetrating gaze. He cleared his throat and tugged at the edges of his tunic, clearly ill at ease with the attention directed at him. “But… yes… that sounds acceptable.” “Excellent. Then we should get on to the point of this meeting.” “Yes. Why did you call us all here,” Sabrilla asked. “Your message was, as ever, infuriatingly cryptic.” “A factor of time,” Mystic acknowledged with a tilt of her head. “Every day we delay is another day that sees us falling woefully behind in handling requests.” “Requests for what,” Sabrilla demanded. “Trade with other worlds. And I suspect your own princes will be just as interested in hearing these requests. However there is an issue.” “Trade with other worlds,” Hewlitt cut in with an awed whisper. “Gods, imagine it. We can scarcely agree on trade routes within our own princelets. Pentas and Traxar allow for more dangerous goods but to do so they must pass through Antiem and Prince Reuss is not about to allow them to coordinate across our borders.” “Precisely,” Mystic said. “Each of our princelets has its own set of restrictions and regulations. As does each entity we connect with in the Nexus. Even the Abstract Destiny must navigate the trade regulations of Saxet before it can reach us. To that end,” she paused and drew in a fortifying breath, “we need lawyers.” “Oh. Oh! Well, that makes perfect sense. Though the next question becomes how many? One per world is a preposterous notion. There’s simply too many regions and dimensions to account for. And what of specializations? Certainly there will be a need for those versed in technological trade versus magical. Though global experts may also be of value as well. A single overseeing body to direct regional affairs and relations. Yes. Hm. We’ll need levels.” As Hewlitt worked through the details out loud, the room filled with the soft but endless scritching of a pen on paper. Hewlitt turned to the Traxar representative, who had not once looked up from his sheaf of notes. “Ah, pardon me, may I have a piece of paper? And do you have a spare pen? I need to make some notes.” “He seems to have that well in hand,” Sabrilla noted. She lowered her feet from the table as Hewlitt began to design his hierarchy of lawyers. She leaned her elbows on the table and fixed Mystic with a shrewd look. “But this isn’t just about needing lawyers, is it? We could have established that through the princes.” “You’re correct,” Mystic acknowledged with a dip of her head. “I believe that appointing the necessary individuals is only the first step. Each of them must become familiar with their own region and whom they might be trading with. To that end, they will need to travel frequently.” The staccato beats of two furiously working pens stopped at once. Both Hewlitt and the Traxar representative looked up from their work. “We need dragon riding lawyers.” Sabrilla was the first to react. She leaned back in her chair and let out a gaffaw that broke the stillness. “Oh, grandpa is going to love this,” she said. “But… but… we are already struggling to find suitable candidates to build up the basic governing structure of our warren,” Hewlitt protested. “To add to that now…” “I understand that it’s a big ask,” Mystic cut in. “But this will benefit us in the long run. Transit of off-world goods has always been an issue. If we establish the rules now, before your warrens truly develop, you will avoid many of the pitfalls that slowed our development here. Undoubtedly there are already potential candidates among the ranks of established clerks.” “Yes, of course but this will cause unrest with the older ranks.” “Which is why I called this meeting. So that we can coordinate how to present this plan to the princes and councils. With their support, I’m positive we can make this work.” Mystic looked between each of the room’s occupants, praying her positive words could win them over. Each of them looked to be deep in thought. The Traxar representative kept his head down, pen flying across the paper, but the furrowing of his brows spoke of a deep curiousity about the subject at hand. “Well I’m in. Provided we can account for a Barokian rep as well. They tell me they’ve been begging for Nexus trade routes for years,” Sabrilla said. “They have,” Mystic acknowledged. She didn’t need to add that she’d been one of those responsible for muzzling Barokian trade all these years. The rest of Tris’Hath simply wasn’t ready for their level of technology. “And they would be welcome to participate. As would Saxet.” Hewlitt put down his pen and placed his hands to either side of the pages of quick notes he’d sketched out. Already the papers looked like the workings of a mad genius, filled to the corners with diagrams, notes, and crossed out charts. “This is going to take some work,” he said solemnly. “Then we had best get started,” Mystic replied. “Um, excuse me.” The voice was so soft that Mystic didn’t fully believe she’d heard it at first. The insistent push against her thoughts from the corner of the room confirmed what her ears could not. As she turned to look at the Traxar representative, she felt a brief pang of empathy for the man. He shrank beneath the combined weight of their gazes like a mouse before a cat. “Go ahead,” Mystic encouraged the man. For a moment he sat perfectly still with his mouth hanging open. He seemed incapable of both speaking and acknowledging their presence in the room, so his gaze dropped before the words came out. “What of clerks? Lawyers are necessary, yes, but they are going to need support in arranging the various agreements, yes? Someone will need to handle the paperwork. I just thought that perhaps… I mean it might be useful…” “You want to put your name forward. Excellent. Tell your friends too. As for myself, I haven’t the faintest idea of who to tap for this, so I’m going to need to borrow some of your people,” Sabrilla said, looking between Hewlitt and Mystic. “Gods, I wish Coonie would bond already. I need her back.” “We’ll support you,” Mystic said, amusement in her tone. She’d had her differences with Sabrilla, and still disapproved of the woman’s friendship with Shy, but such things wouldn’t stop her from offering aid when needed. “Yes, of course,” Hewlitt added. “Then I believe it’s time to call this meeting and get started. The first clutch I’ve located for this endevour is due to hatch within the next few weeks.” “Weeks,” Hewlitt squeaked. The momentary air of confidence he’d built while plotting out a hierarchy of dragon riding lawyers deflated in an instant. “That tracks. Plan something world changing then immediately fast track it. Is that a Lanuthan pastime,” Sabrilla asked. “More like a personal hobby,” Mystic quipped. She looked between the room’s occupants; the harried former clerk from Antiem, the terrified and thrilled clerk from Traxar, and the bold young woman from Sudland. These were her peers. The people who would help develop an era of peace and prosperity the likes of which Tris’Hath hadn’t known in over a millennia. She wanted to jump for joy. Instead she inclined her head to the group, then stood up. “Shall we?”
* * * In the short amount of time given to prepare for the new endeavour, only two individuals fitting the call could be located. The first was the clerk who had so studiously and eagerly taken notes during their meeting. The second was a newly minted lawyer out of Antiem. The young man had barely emerged from his finishing exams before Hewlitt descended on him with a search rider out of the Warren. Sabrilla sent word that she would need more time, but had plans of her own in the works. As for Mystic, a quick talk with the Empress of the Vella Crean provided an opportunity she hadn’t expected. Instead of sending her own candidate, she would receive one of theirs. Someone already well versed in the laws and economics of the Vella Crean. Soon after the first round of candidates went off to their designated world, more eager would-be participants began to crop up. They appeared from all corners of the four princelets, each touting why their expertise would make them a perfect choice for this plan. The princes expressed some dissent at first, but a few soothing words from Aaron soon had them convinced that they had come up with this plan on their own and could not be more delighted to build stronger connections with the Nexus. Meanwhile Mystic returned to her paperwork, knowing she had just increased her backlog tenfold. She welcomed the challenge.
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