Daybreak:Volume 4 Chapter 2: Difference between revisions

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===Chapter 2 - A Familial Duty===
===Chapter 2 - Playing with Fire===


"It's starting."
Kaede woke up from her slumber as the wagon bed lurched. A wooden wheel seemed to have hit a rock on the snow-covered dirt road.  


Kaede pushed Pascal's levitating chair up to the ridge, where they had a perfect view of the Hafren river crossing. A thin veneer of snow covered the ground and she could see her breath in the freezing air, but the army's assault forces didn't seem to mind as they forded the icy waters.
The Samaran girl rubbed her eyes with her small hands as she registered her surroundings. She sat in the front-left side of a covered wagon on top of a thick, woolen blanket. Meanwhile Pascal, who was still unconscious, laid flat with his head in her lap.  


Showers of arrows criss-crosssed over the waterline as the Lotharin archers and the Cataliyan bowmen dueled. Cold steel fell like icy rain upon both the defending phalanxes and the towering attackers. But while the rows of southern spearmen thinned under the continuous barrage, the lumbering oak and yew giants hardly even flinched as they made their way across.
A young, apprentice healer girl sat diagonally across from Kaede and peered out to the rear. To her side lay another patient -- a Lotharin noble who looked not even thirty. His exposed face and limbs were largely covered in bandages, while his unconscious face was red from a burning fever.


The four-legged migratory trees shrugged off flaming arrows and withstood infused explosive spells with minor injuries. The Lotharin mages had hardened the vanguard's bark into fire-resistant ironwood before layering on even more protective spells. Soon the walking trees emerged onto the shores and smashed into lines of Cataliyan spearmen. Their wooden appendages flailed about their thick trunks, cleaving into formations and hurling men into the air like rag dolls.
Kaede could hear the creaking of wagon wheels and the clinking mail of armored troops. She could see the train of vehicles to both the front and rear which traversed through the wintry forest on a narrow road. Thousands of soldiers marched in columns on each flank through the snow-covered ground. The horse-drawn wagon behind her carried no less than six injured officers. While the one behind that was outright packed with wounded soldiers.


The Cataliyan military machine was known for their professional Ghulam heavy cavalry and composite bowmen. But their typical infantrymen were little more than conscripts motivated by cries of holy war and religious martyrdom. Against the Lotharins' new arboreal allies, those men never stood a chance and their formations quickly began to collapse.
''Aristocratic privileges,'' Kaede couldn't help but smile a little. She doubted the people in the wagons behind them could stretch out their legs as she did in her sparse carriage.


Seeing the front lines buckling, the Cataliyan horse archers at the rear discharged one last volley before turning to flee. They ran straight into the glowing embers of the 'Polar Cross' Oriflamme, as Edith-Estellise had led a small group of flight-capable armigers across the marshy terrain in the south and flanked the main defense force.
Nevertheless, the familiar felt not just drowsy but exhausted. The healers had asked her for more blood last night, and she had given them enough that it left her anemic. It didn't help that she had another nightmare which jolted her awake in a cold sweat. The haunting image of a blackened wasteland had replaced the snowy landscape of her previous dreams, where zombie-like corpses crawled and lunged after her in waves of endless terror.


"All too easy," Kaede declared with pride. She had helped the Princess in preparing for this opposed river crossing, although her contributions were little more than studying her magical map to pick out the best locations for the assault and the flanking insertion.
Kaede was about to doze off again when a ringtone began in the back of her head. Her torso jerked upright as another bump in the road lurched the wagon's carriage at the same time.


"It is just a rear guard, albeit a substantial one," Pascal spoke dryly in his weak voice. "Maybe as much as ten thousand. But the infidels have already withdrawn east and south. I reckon they are crossing the Gwilen River even as we speak."
Magic always seemed to adjust to the user. And in the case of her earrings' ability to receive ''Farspeak'', the lively music it used was the same as Kaede's cell phone on Earth.


He then let out a deep exhale.
''Must be Her Highness... or rather, elder sister calling.'' Kaede adjusted her thoughts with a faint smile. She was still trying to grow accustomed to thinking of Princess Sylviane as her ''elder sister''.


"You two were too careful and waited too long."
Regardless, the familiar reached up with one hand and squeezed her earring between her thumb and index finger.


"We're not all as audacious as you, ''Patton''," Kaede scowled a little as she felt the need to defend herself. "We're the ones winning on this front now. There's no reason for us to take unnecessary risks and throw it all away."
"<Hello. You've reached the voicemail box of Kae-->"


The Cataliyans had gambled and lost almost three brigades of elite cavalry at the Battle of Glywysing. That still left over thirty thousand men besieging the city of Roazhon. Though with their best troops destroyed and their reinforcements sunk off the coast of Lysardh Point, they had no chance of taking the city before a major Lotharin counteroffensive.
"<Cease whatever joke you are playing at, Miss Familiar.>" Kaede immediately recognized the serious tone of Karsten, Pascal's Majordomo from his Nordkreuz estate. "<nowiki><Is</nowiki> His Grace, your master, available? I've been trying to reach him for two days now.>"


However, Princess Sylviane had also been licking her wounds since the pyrrhic victory at Glywysing. Pascal had almost died and Duke Lionel suffered a blow to the head that left him unconscious for days. The healers left orders for both to rest and recover even after a week's passing, depriving Sylviane of her two best tacticians.
"<He's... unconscious.>" Her mental voice darkened. "<He sustained some serious injuries from the recent battle.>" She added without explaining in further detail just ''how bad'' those injuries were.


News had it that the Cataliyan commander -- General Salim -- survived the catastrophe at Glywysing and made it back to his army with the ragtag remnants of the three brigades. Facing an accomplished foe that they could not help but respect, both Sylviane and Kaede agreed it was best to take the steady route and risk nothing.
"<Then how are you doing fine?>" Karsten snarled. "<nowiki><Is</nowiki> it not your duty to protect your master?>"


Pascal did not respond, although Kaede could feel him brooding as he continued to stare through her eyes. The blindfold was still wrapped around his head to facilitate his eyes' recovery. Although Kaede thought it might make him a little less jittery to at least ''feel'' like he was present at the battle.
Kaede pursed her lips as a sharp retort rose from within her. She had been nearly thirty kilopaces away when Pascal cast that reckless spell. How could she have helped?


"Look--"
-- Yet, at the same time, she was also the reason he experimented with magic beyond his comprehension in the first place.


Kaede skipped ''over there'' as her gaze turned to the northeast where flaring spells lit up the morning sky. Colonel von Mackensen's Knights Phantom clashed with the putrid-brown Cataliyan wasteland drakes over the orchards south of Roazhon. He had led the city's defenders out in a sally just as they agreed over ''Farspeak'' communications. However, it was clear from the chaotic air battle that the enemy had been prepared for this and used their drakes as a second rearguard to buy time -- likely to retreat across the Gwilen River unmolested as Pascal surmised.
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> was in a different battle, per his orders.>"


"They should still have enough time to capture the enemy's artillery train," Kaede remarked positively. "No way the Cataliyans will withdraw their siege equipment in time."
Even Karsten couldn't reprimand her for that.


"Yes... it will help make up for the fact I lost all of the Lotharins' heavy siege at Gwilen," Pascal commented dryly.
"<Then I hope you're taking proper care of him.>" The Majordomo's stern voice rang as authoritative as to the estate's other servants. It was clear that in Karsten's eyes, Kaede was merely another servant to the House of Moltewitz.


Kaede frowned. She hadn't realized until now that her comment earlier had bit him hard. She had grown so used to Pascal's shameless confidence that she was unused to him doubting himself.
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> am, and he's slowly recovering.>" Kaede tried to sound reassuring. "<May I ask what you are calling about? Perhaps the Princess would like to know as well.>"


It felt... ''unnatural'', and she didn't like it one bit.
"<Her Highness does not need to be bothered by such trifles,>" The Majordomo reprimanded. "<However, it may help if you inquire with one of her advisors. We're running into some... business trouble, here in Nordkreuz. The public-private investment partnerships that His Grace created before his departure have developed some questionable behavior as of late.>"


''I guess everyone gets depressed once in a while... even Pascal.''
Kaede's lips twisted. She should have expected this. Every economic reform throughout history had run into its share of road bumps and, occasionally, massive pitfalls.


"And their sacrifice diminished the Cataliyans' numbers so severely that they could not force an assault of Roazhon when they arrived," Kaede put a reassuring hand on Pascal's shoulder. "You tried everything you could to change the balance of power on this front. There is no shame in that."
"<What's the issue?>"


"What good is ''trying''?" Pascal's bitterness picked away at the weak spot in her argument. "The results are all that matter."
"<Do you remember the North Sea Company that His Grace created?>"


''I just said--'' Kaede almost retorted before she forced herself to relax with a sigh.
"<Yes,>" Kaede nodded.  


It didn't help anyone to take her annoyance out on the person least able to bear it.
Pascal had established several publicly traded companies to help spur the reconstruction of Nordkreuz. Three of them were allocated to the different guilds and their industrial workshops, while a fourth -- the North Sea Trading Company -- was set aside for the harbor and its dock facilities. The idea was to attract private investments for the rapid re-establishment of Nordkreuz's strategic trade port. In turn, the port would share 50% of its future profits with all private investors.


Crouching down besides his levitating chair, Kaede wrapped her thin arms around his head and shoulders in a tight embrace. Thousands of troops assembling for the river crossing could see the two of them on that hill crest, but Kaede didn't care as she gently asserted to him:
"<Stock values in the company have been rising at a phenomenal rate,>" Karsten began to explain. "<We considered this good news at first, as the harbor's reconstruction is meant to lead redevelopment efforts in Nordkreuz. A rise in its stock share value shows the public's faith in Nordkreuz's economic recovery. We hoped that this would, in turn, also boost confidence in the other company stocks and bring in more investment. However, Her Grace, Cardinal-Chancellor Lisbeth, has expressed concerns that the changes are... 'too unnatural'... which is ironic since that better describes her own habits.>"


"You were the one who organized the Battle of Gwilen River that bled our enemies white. You were the one who devised the plan to lure their elite troops away into Ceredigion. You were the one who seized upon the opportunity to ambush their reinforcements at Lysardh Point. You were the one who shattered the enemy right wing and threw all their advantages into chaos at Glywysing!
''You mean her love of young boys,'' Kaede almost scoffed. Even she had heard the rumors by now.


"Without you, the Lotharins' Avorican front would have collapsed before Gwendolyn even had the ''opportunity'' to intervene! The common soldier may not understand that," she thought of his new moniker, the ''Deathbringer''. "But every lord and officer educated in the ways of war knows whom they owe and should be grateful to!"
"<Her Grace warned that the stock value's climb has been alarmingly fast,>" Karsten continued as his tone grew more troubled with worries. "<She is concerned at how the city is awash with rumors on how quickly the company could profit, once the Skagen Peninsula's territories are annexed by the King's peace treaty with the Northmen. These rumors claim that there is great wealth in the north, that new products like cocoa and sugarcane would soon enter the market to earn a fortune...>"


The familiar girl poured her encouragement and assurance across the empathic channel that they shared. She could feel the dark, gloomy mist thinning on his end, at least enough for a wry, half-snorted chuckle to emerge:
Kaede frowned. She had learned from her conversations with Cecylia and Perceval that both cocoa and sugarcane had become commonplace in Skagen society thanks to their colonies in the New World. However, while the Grand Jarldom of Skagen had a formal trade embargo with both the Kingdom of Weichsel and the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea, these products nevertheless entered the Imperial-speaking cultural sphere through traders in Gleann Mòr and illegal smugglers on the North Sea.


"I think you greatly overestimate the military wisdom of the typical Lotharin officer."
''I wonder if there's an Adam Smith of Hyperion who is writing furiously right now,'' Kaede thought of the 'Father of Capitalism', who relentlessly attacked the stupidity of trade embargos in how they negatively impacted both sides -- the British and French in his time -- while enriching the coffers of the Dutch middlemen.


Kaede couldn't help but giggle at his condescending tone. ''Now this is the Pascal I know!''
Nevertheless, both cocoa and sugarcane required tropical climates to grow. They certainly would not thrive near the shores of the cold North Sea. And while Weichsen soldiers likely acquired batches of it during their raids across the Skagen Peninsula, it didn't mean that these lands could yield such crops.


His trials weren't over. She knew he would still hit many road bumps in his long journey towards recovery, and every one of them could spell another bout of depression for him, another moment of self-loathing and bitter regret. Though as long as she could help keep his emotions afloat, she was sure she could keep the worst damage in check.
"<The traders within the city should know better!>" The familiar retorted.


After all, contrary to popular belief, what didn't kill a person wouldn't necessarily make them stronger. Too many leaders survived bitter struggles that left them seemingly 'tougher', but it came at great costs that their nation would be forced to bear. Every loss had a chance to leave deep mental scars, hardening the mind and anesthetizing the heart in exchange for the iron will to carry on.
"<They do, and many of them have actively opposed these rumors,>" Karsten stated. "<Yet the claims continue to spread, as if all voices of reason have been pushed into a corner. It doesn't help that even when one rumor is dispelled, another -- such as claims that the Northmen's silver mostly came from their peninsular mines -- replaces it. To the best of our knowledge, there aren't any silver mines in the peninsula.>"


History would later blame such rulers for being 'evil' and 'tyrannical', rarely remembering the callous circumstances that shaped them into being.
''That's not a good sign,'' Kaede thought as she furrowed her brows.


Kaede kissed Pascal's bandaged temple before she returned her gaze to the front lines. She could see the cerulean glow of Princess Sylviane's embers, flying up and down the icy river and encouraging her men forward. She remembered that night when she embraced the Rhin-Lotharingie heir, as the latter wailed in the depth of grief over the death of her closest companions.  
The marginalization of accurate information required ''purposeful propaganda''. Some unseen actor was actively spreading false information to engineer public opinion.


''A mercy from God that they both survived,'' the Samaran girl thought to herself.
It reminded Kaede of the disinformation campaign launched by American and British media in the run up to the 2003 Invasion of Iraq to gain control of its vast oil wealth. In less than three months, public approval of a war to remove Iraq's supposed 'weapons of mass destruction' went from less than 25% to over 75% of the populace. Meanwhile, anyone who expressed disapproval of the war on mass media was declared a traitor and had their careers destroyed. Even allies -- like the French who refused to participate -- were ridiculed and branded as spineless, immoral cowards by the media onslaught.


Both Pascal and Sylviane were such brilliant yet lonely individuals. If one of them had died, the other would have lost the last of their family and their only remaining emotional support. It would be difficult to pull through without freezing their heart to numb out the pain, leaving debts that would return to bite in the decades to come.
"<These rumors are causing 'speculation' -- as the Cardinal describes it -- to run astray,>" Karsten continued. "<One local guildmaster claims that all his apprentices have sunk their savings into the company. Because of such rash behavior, the North Sea Company's stocks have multiplied more than tenfold over the past few weeks. The stock has achieved total values that -- according to the Cardinal's agents -- are reaching even the gross value of Nordkreuz before the air raid.>"


The very thought sent a shiver down her spine, as she thought of the infamous 'man of steel' and his romantic story gone wrong.
"<Do you know what is the P/E ratio?>" Kaede asked as her anxieties grew.


''I have no desire to see a 'Stalin' emerge on this world.''
"<nowiki><P/E?></nowiki>"


"<Sorry. The ratio of market price per share divided by the earnings per share,>" The familiar had to clarify her modern terminology.


"<One moment. Let me add someone...>" Karsten answered before a new, much younger voice joined the conversation:


<nowiki>------ * * * ------</nowiki>
"<Good morning, Kaede. This is Marshal Wiktor von Falkenhausen speaking.>"


''Cecylia's dad!'' The Samaran girl's eyes widened as she thought of the handsome dhampir whom she had met back in Nordkreuz. ''He's been made Marshal too!''


Kaede realized then that Karsten must have linked his ''Farspeak'' call to her with a ''Telepathy'' connection from the new Marshal. It readily created a telepathic chatroom that stretched across thousands of kilopaces.


Kaede was deep in thought as she pushed Pascal's levitating chair past Roazhon's citadel gates.
"<The price per share of the North Sea Trading Company has just exceeded 2,000 this morning, while the earnings per share -- even if we use commerce figures from before the Battle of Nordkreuz -- would only be about 4.5 marks,>" Wiktor responded to her earlier question. "<The price per share had been less than 100 merely a week ago.>"


They had missed the welcoming ceremony that Queen Katell had thrown in Princess Sylviane's honor. The Samaran girl didn't mind though. Even from outside the city gates, she could hear the loud trumpets and boisterous fanfare at the time. Someone even conjured a rainbow over the city that rained sparkles. Up close with her familiar-enhanced senses, the deafening noise and blinding colors would have been insufferable.
The Samaran girl's brain did the math and... ''That's a P/E of over 220!'' Kaede's mental alarms immediately sounded.


Kaede's only regret was that Pascal couldn't take part in the celebrations. The Princess had been welcomed back as a conquering hero, as her recent chain of victories had relieved the siege of Roazhon and pushed back the Cataliyan offensive in the war's western front. But much of that credit belonged rightly to Pascal, as it was his stratagems that set up the events to make everything possible.
Kaede wasn't much of a stock trader back in Japan. But she did talk about it with the family, especially as Konstantin wanted to make sure his son had a 'basic financial education' which was sorely lacking in schools. She remembered that a healthy P/E ratio was around 15. Anything above 100 was definitely a bubble. Even worse, her P/E ratio was using 'projected figures', as the destroyed harbor wasn't even rebuilt yet and it currently had virtually no revenue source at all!


Besides, while his dour mood may have alleviated slightly from Kaede's encouragement, it could always use another lift.
The Samaran girl bit her lip. This was proof enough to clear all doubts.


However, Pascal's healer -- Sir Ariel -- had vetoed it. He was furious that Kaede took Pascal to see the battle, and berated her for what must have been ten minutes on 'proper rest and recovery'. She couldn't even edge a word in before he finished his tirade and simply left, leaving her more than a bit disgruntled at the end.
Someone at Nordkreuz -- perhaps a group of wealthy speculators -- has learned to game the new system. The false rumors were almost definitely started by them. And the rampant speculation was fast forming a 'financial bubble' where asset prices grew to be implausibly, unrealistically high.


''Doctors,'' she fumed at the memories even now. ''They value the physical condition so much yet care so little for the patient's mental welfare!''
If such a bubble was allowed to keep growing, it would eventually burst. The collapse of the Japanese Assets Bubble in 1992 ruined an entire generation to stagnation in the 'Lost Decades'. A single company in Nordkreuz should not have such catastrophic results. However, with public confidence on the line and people betting their life savings on such a gamble, even a small disaster could ruin Pascal and her attempts to introduce modern finance.


"It's not fair," she mumbled under her breath. "They were your achievements too. You should have been there."
"<Marshal Wiktor, Mister Karsten, please listen to me carefully -- this is a potential problem that Pascal foresaw in our discussions,>" Kaede told an outright lie to fabricate some authority for her following statements. "<The Cardinal-Chancellor is correct. The North Sea Company is developing what we call a 'bubble'. If it is left unmanaged, it could spell disaster for Pascal's new economic policies. We must nip this problem in the bud by popping this bubble with a sharp needle immediately.>"


The feeling of bandaged fingers grazing her hand brought Kaede back to her senses.
"<His Grace always did show foresight,>" Karsten spoke as proudly as a father would. "<He has left instructions then?>"


"Funny," Pascal croaked with a huff of humor. "I thought the same thing at Nordkreuz when I received your medal in your place."
"<Yes.>" Kaede's thoughts were running on overcapacity now. Even for her this was frontier territory, and she could only rely on her knowledge of historical bubbles. "<We're not sure if this'll work, so please run everything past Cardinal Lisbeth first...>"


Kaede touched the Knight's Cross that hung beneath her collar. It was a reminder that recognition did not come without price, for she had almost lost her life that day to help bring about the battle's victory.
"<Hold up on that,>" Marshal Wiktor interjected before silence fell over the link. Kaede wasn't complaining though, as her brain was already overheating as she hastily put together a plan of action.


"Yeah but that's different," she noted. "The medal bore my name. Even though you received it in my place, it showed that Weichsel's King and army valued my contributions. But what of the Lotharins? What did they do to show you their appreciation? Other than--"
The Samaran girl had read enough about historical financial crises from Earth to at least grasp the overall strategy. However, while she could make high level plans, the execution was a far more complicated affair. Furthermore, not only did Kaede lack understanding of the intricacies of financial and economic management, she also had zero experience in trying to organize and coordinate so many people at once.


Kaede trailed off, burying the words 'an ungrateful nickname'.
Therefore, Kaede had to entrust the execution of this plan to others. And there was no better candidate in her mind than the Cardinal-Chancellor, who was a deft old hand with decades of experience in managing Weichsel's economy.


Pascal had reacted poorly since the first time he heard it. He always kept his silence, but Kaede could feel the sharp pain those words inflicted upon him.
"<This is Lisbeth.>" An older, feminine voice joined in several minutes later.


"I did screw up many times," he exhaled a deep sigh. "Besides, I do not mind if Sylv receives the recognition. She is the next Empress and I am the consort. It is not that unusual, and it certainly benefits her legitimacy for the commoners to believe that every victory belonged to her."
"<Lizzie,>" Wiktor spoke as though greeting an old friend. "<nowiki><I</nowiki> have Pascal's Majordomo Karsten and his familiar Kaede with me on the network. Kaede was just about to recommend an idea from her master on how to address the issue we've been discussing regarding the North Sea Company.>"


"But--" Kaede tried to retort, however Pascal's quiet chuckle stopped her short.
"<nowiki><I'm</nowiki> listening,> Lisbeth replied curtly.


"It is not so different from a master benefiting from a familiar's deeds. I do not remembering you vying for your even share back then."
"<Your Grace,>" Kaede greeted first before explaining her draft proposal as her master's idea. "<Pascal suggested that in the event of a 'bubble' forming -- that is, excessive speculation upon the stocks that result in unrealistically high share values -- we should immediately pull out 90% of ''his'' initial investment in the troubled company at once. This also includes any investment made using the King's funds. As the original shareholder, Pascal's stocks represent a sizable slice of the investment pie. This will surely cause a noticeable dip in the company's asset value.>


The familiar in question pouted. ''What am I supposed to say when he puts it like that?''
"<People will notice the sudden drop, and their confidence will waver,>" Kaede continued. "<Seize this opportunity and spread a counter-rumor that the North Sea Company is currently facing a crisis of mismanagement. Tell them that the Landgrave has discovered that several harbor managers are lying about the company's future prospects, and that he is about to clean house and punish those who are responsible for spreading rumors based on fabrications and lies. Use the estate's maids, footmen, deliverymen -- anyone you have access to propel the rumor to give it more legitimacy...>"


Pascal's palm then reached up further and fully covered the back of her left hand.
"<The maids and footmen, ''spreading rumors!?''>" Karsten sounded insulted.


"Thank you, Kaede. I appreciate what you are trying to do."
"<Mister Karsten, please. More is at stake here than the honor of the house,>" Kaede pleaded. "<Someone is likely manipulating the system in a most treacherous attempt to earn a greedy profit, perhaps even to ''sabotage'' Nordkreuz.>"


Kaede felt the heat rise as her cheeks blossomed. She couldn't even avert her gaze when he was blind and sharing her eyesight to begin with. She then heard a faint chuckle from him which only made her embarrassment worse. Since without his vision, Pascal could only rely upon his heart and their empathic link to read her reactions.
Now that she considered it, Kaede would not be surprised if this whole incident ''was'' deliberate sabotage. The Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea certainly has a history of tying military and economic expansion together. Weakening Nordkreuz by sabotaging its economy would definitely play to its geostrategic interests.


It was yet another version of him that she wasn't used to.
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> completely agree,>" Marshal Wiktor added. His sentiments were then echoed by Cardinal Lisbeth.


"It's not fair," she mumbled. "I don't get any privacy from you."
Faced with the dire circumstances, Karsten replied with only a begrudging "<...I understand.>"


She could almost feel him grinning, as a portion of his usual haughtiness seemed to return:
"<Once the rumors begin clashing and the stock prices waver, you should openly, ''publicly'' confirm the Landgrave's loss of confidence in the company using your position as the estate's steward,>" Kaede carefully added the plan's supporting elements. "<This will discredit any other ongoing rumors, and hopefully deliver a ''Coup de Grace'' to the whole charade. Meanwhile, put a trade ceiling -- a daily limit on the amount of stocks bought or sold at once by any investor -- on each ''individual'' stock.>


"Of course not. You are ''my'' familiar."
"<Pascal's suggestion was to use the yearly earnings of a new craftsman as the baseline figure. For those who partook in the initial offering, this limit could be raised to equal their initial share. This will stop the culprits from trying to hide the stock's decline using their own funds, but also help protect the poor investors if our actions are successful.>"


It was also the reason why Kaede suggested leaving 10% of Pascal's total shares in the system. This would allow sizeable reinvestments to be made without violating their own rules.


...
"<We do not yet have a system set up for such fine methods of control,>" the Cardinal-Chancellor warned. "<It may take some time -- perhaps a week -- for my people to properly establish such.>"


Kaede twisted her lips. Time was of the essence. Yet it was also the Achilles' heel of new ideas. There needs to be an ''institution'' set in place to manage everything -- to control, to supervise, to enforce.


Roazhon's riverside fortress was oddly 'normal'. Other than its slightly sloped walls and better sanitary conditions, it looked no different from a duke or king's castle that Kaede could find in Western Europe.
Cardinal-Chancellor Lisbeth was the most prominent figure in the Weichsen civil bureaucracy. She had direct control over two of the five ministries. Her people could no doubt summon an army of clerks and accountants to manage transactions and perform record-keeping. However, legal enforcement was outside her jurisdiction. Therefore, not only did she lack the authority to conduct investigations into the accounts of private enterprises, she likely also lacked personnel who specialize in tracking, monitoring, and arresting suspects.


The Samaran girl was still pushing Pascal's levitating chair towards the guest lodging, on the wing of Avorica's royal keep, when she heard an exuberant cry:
Then a lightbulb lit in Kaede's mind.


"Milady!"
Weichsel was a near-absolute monarchy. This gave one body the highest authority to interfere in all civil and military affairs as they saw fit. Kaede wasn't sure what exactly was the relationship between the Black Eagles and Weichsel's Ministry of Law. But she had no doubts over who had greater freedom of action in a crisis situation.


Turning about, she saw a petite maid with short, brown hair running up from a side door on the guest wing.
"<Please file an official appeal to King Leopold that we would like to request the aid of his ''Black Eagles,''>" Kaede answered. "<Tell His Majesty that we need his royal authority and their enforcement powers to deal with this potential crisis. Furthermore, ask for the Eagles' help in monitoring and reporting on anyone who attempts to retrieve sums that greatly exceed the daily purchase ceiling. His Majesty should also know that we suspect there may be foreign subterfuge at play, with the goal of wrecking Nordkreuz's economic recovery efforts.>"


With a beaming smile, Marina stopped just within the Samaran's reach. She suddenly seemed to remember her manners, and dipped a perfect curtsy.
"<That sounds like a good starting point.>" Cardinal Lisbeth answered thoughtfully. "<nowiki><I</nowiki> will work with Majordomo Karsten to gauge the right amount of divestment to achieve the results we need.>"


"Milord, Milady. Welcome to Roazhon Castle," she spoke cheerily. "Your rooms have already been prepared. I'll lead you to them."
"<And I will contact His Majesty regarding this matter immediately,>" Marshal Wiktor added.


"Hello Marina, how've you been?" Kaede smiled back, but she shook her head at the maid's offer to take over in pushing Pascal. Instead, Marina simply fell to her side and led them towards the front doors.
Kaede had to pause for a moment and blink as she heard their acknowledgements. She could hardly believe she was conversing with two of Weichsel's highest ranking leaders as if they were ''equals''.


"Quite well, ''Milady''," Marina stressed the style with a teasing tone, knowing well that it made Kaede uncomfortable to hear it. "The siege was short and painless. The bombardment was light considering the knights phantom kept harassing the heathens' artillery. I haven't been doing much; just helping out at the military kitchens and keeping an ear open for Lady Cecylia."
Nevertheless, she still wasn't done:


When Pascal and Sylviane took the Lotharin troops west two weeks ago, Cecylia had joined the Weichsel knights phantom in reinforcing Roazhon. Though for an intelligence officer, that meant gathering information on their allies and keeping enemy saboteurs at bay, to prevent them from opening gates or burning supply stores. It was Pascal's choice for Cecylia to take Marina as an aide, as Kaede was unconscious at the time and didn't hear about it until afterwards.
"<nowiki><If</nowiki> our counter-offensive proves successful, the North Sea Company's stocks will begin a sharp decline as people lose their confidence and pull out their funds. Once the fall begins, we can slowly re-inject Pascal's pulled funds over a period of multiple days to stabilize its descent. Mister Karsten, Pascal asks that you cooperate fully with Her Grace on the quantity, frequency, and timing of divestment and reinvestment. The goal is to allow the company to return to its starting point, reset and restabilize. But the descent should be slow, not all at once, so that the people's losses may be mitigated and their confidence in the system overall maintained.>"


...And with that, the familiar girl also remembered:
The good news was that by pulling most of his investments out while the stock was at its peak, Pascal would make many times his original funds in profits. This would give them more than sufficient of a 'war chest' to fight the remainder of the economic battle.


"Sorry."
''We'll make you pay dearly for trying to sabotage our economy, just like what the Chinese and Hong Kong authorities did to George Soros.'' Kaede grinned wolfishly as she thought back to the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis.


"What for?" The maid was inquisitive.
"<Yes. I agree that returning sanity and stability to the new market is our primary concern,>" Cardinal Lisbeth responded, before she recapped the conversation with a complete list of all the actionable items. This included additional details and fine-tuning tweaks that she added herself. It rather impressed Kaede how quickly she caught on.


"I said that I wouldn't send you into any danger that I didn't take myself. I didn't hold up my end of the bargain in the end."
''It's no wonder King Leopold relies on her,'' Kaede thought before she decided to add: "<Your Grace, in addition to the North Sea Company, please work with Karsten to take appropriate measures on the other companies' stocks should anything unnatural happen.>"


"I'm pretty sure that being unconscious meant you took up way more dangers than I did," Marina chuckled. "Besides, it was his Lordship's orders, not yours."
"<Of course, Miss Familiar. Please tell your master, His Grace, that I will lend my full support on this matter,>" she said before bidding her departure. "<Good day.>"


"<u>You are being far too nice to her,</u>" Pascal's telepathic voice rang his disapproval inside Kaede's mind. "<u>First promoting her to Lady's Maid, and now this? After what she did, she doesn't deserve it.</u>"
"<And I as well. Thank you for your excellent advice, Kaede,>" Marshal Wiktor then finished in a teasing tone. "<nowiki><I'll</nowiki> make sure we make good use of it.>"


"<u>And I'm sure treating her as an ex-assassin would inspire a great deal of loyalty,</u>" the familiar retorted before she could stop herself. "<u>I understand how you feel. But please, as we've discussed before, let me handle it.</u>"
''He knows that was from me and not Pascal?'' Kaede couldn't help wondering before adding. "<The recommendations come from Pascal. I'm merely following his directives.>"


She turned to Marina with a thankful smile, before turning around so she could pull Pascal up a spiral staircase. His levitating chair stayed upright and made the job much easier, though she still had to climb backwards to ensure that Pascal's feet didn't slam into the stone steps. The stairs were rather steep, and Marina kept a hand on Kaede's shoulder to make sure she didn't trip herself.
"<Of course they do,>" Wiktor then added in a knowing tone. "<Take care, Kaede.>"


"This way," the maid held open the heavy wooden door as they reached the second floor landing. "Left side."
''He definitely knows.'' The familiar girl scowled.


"Where do you sleep?" Kaede asked as they moved down the richly furnished corridor, with its thick rug, intricate wallpaper, and life-sized oil paintings. It was easy to forget that they were still inside a military fortification.
"<Mister Karsten,>" Kaede then interjected before the Majordomo could close the connection also. "<Please keep me apprised of day-to-day development. I will also see if any of the Princess' advisors may weigh in on this problem before Pascal has recovered.>"


"The servants' quarters are down bottom," Marina noted.
"<Understood. Please take care of His Grace.>" Karsten was almost imploring. "<I'm counting on you.>"


She avoided saying 'the basement', as though the nobles would appreciate not being reminded that their servants slept below ground.
With a mental 'click', the ''Farspeak'' call ended. Kaede then took a deep breath to calm back down.


"Could you ask them for a room next door," Kaede requested. "Tell them I'll need help at night. After all, the Landgrave is still recovering from severe injuries, and he didn't bring a valet with him."
It was her first experience with just how much power she could wield through decrees in Pascal's name. It wasn't a lowly rank like Pascal the Captain or empty titles like Pascal the Crown Prince Consort either. Instead, today's meeting showed that Pascal exercised true authority and influence through his ducal rank as the Landgrave of Nordkreuz.


"And tell them I do ''not'' want one," Pascal grumbled before Marina could even offer.
Even a slight taste of it felt... ''intoxicating'', in a self-righteous sort of way. Kaede's conversation with Karsten began with him patronizing her. It ended with her giving orders, and not just to him. She had even issued the main plan of action to the Chancellor and Marshal of Weichsel!


Kaede giggled: "he's not really comfortable having a stranger help with his... business."
''I'd better be careful with this power,'' Kaede couldn't help thinking. This was doubly so as her influence with Princess Sylviane grew. Plenty of trusted, close advisors throughout history had lost their heads because they became overconfident in issuing orders in their master's stead.


"Of course. They should be alright with me helping out instead," Marina walked ahead to open the double doors.
Kaede stared back at the long train of over a hundred wagons. It was often too easy to forget how many pieces must be in position for history to be made. The people who worked in the background were often forgotten by everyone except scholars. But that did not mean they lacked the power and influence to affect the world.


"And thank you, ''Milady,''" she added, as though knowing exactly what Kaede had in mind.


"Oh, don't thank me yet," Kaede added as she entered a bedroom that was far too big for her tastes. Chandelier lighting in the bedroom always felt excessive to her, although at least the four-poster bed was suitably massive and comfortable-looking.
...


"He really ''does'' need a lot of taking care of. Hopefully, we won't leave stains all over the carpet and make the staff angry."


The Samaran girl was still gazing into the distance when she noticed a twitching jerk from the blanket across from her.


<nowiki>------ * * * ------</nowiki>
"Attack. ''Attack!''" The youthful noble who lay across from Kaede suddenly cried out in his delirious fever. Tears streamed from his unbandaged eye as it suddenly snapped open and the young man yelled "For Maela! ''Kill them all!''"


The healer girl who sat beside him quickly pulled out a cloth from her waist pouch. She covered his nose and mouth with it. The nobleman struggled slightly before his eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.


Kaede and Pascal had dinner in their room that night, although this time Sylviane didn't have time to join them. The Princess no doubt had a state banquet to attend, although Kaede savored her share of the marvelous cooking from the dishes Marina brought upstairs.
''Chloroform,'' Kaede sniffed as she could smell the strong scent from the cloth.


Now, with the food put away, she pushed Pascal into an adjoining room and helped him take off all of his clothes and potion-soaked bandages. With both of her arms supporting him, Pascal climbed off his levitating chair and into the waiting stone bath -- which looked more like a small, shallow pool on a raised platform.
"Sorry," the young healer looked towards the familiar with a wry smile. "I didn't think he'd wake so early."


The water was hot. Not enough to burn, but sufficient for him to quickly start sweating. The healer said it would help expunge the body's wastes and boost his recovery, though even if that wasn't the case Kaede would have insisted he take a bath. The healers' cleansing magic just wasn't thorough enough, and he was starting to give off some pungent odors down below.
Kaede could only return a matching smile before she pondered aloud: "who is Maela?"


"Does your ''Ladyship'' require any help?" Marina asked from behind Kaede.
"His newly-wed bride, from what I've heard." The healer sighed. "They were apparently childhood friends. They married on the same day they joined the Avorican army together."


"Okay seriously, that's enough," Kaede huffed out as she knelt on the side, scrubbing Pascal down with a towel in hand. "We're not in anyone's company, so start referring to me like normal again."
Kaede grimaced. War stories loved to use such tales to romanticize and glorify heroism. But the reality was that they almost always ended in tragedy.


"We're in his Lordship's company. Proper decorum should be upheld."
The familiar was so distracted by what had just happened that she almost missed the faint stirring that came over her familiar link. The placid void she felt instead of Pascal's consciousness was growing active once more. It began to radiate waves of awareness, discomfort, even confusion and pain. Then, right as Kaede looked down with hopeful uncertainty, she saw a twitch from his exposed right hand as Pascal tried to lift his arm.


Kaede groaned as she could almost hear laughter in the maid's voice. Even Pascal had to hold back a snort.
"Pascal!"


"But no, I can take care of this part," she answered. "It's actually a lot easier than I'm used to. Well, sort of."
Relief and joy flooded across Kaede's thoughts at once. Both the driver and the healer looked at her with interest but she didn't even care. The Samaran girl felt water in her eyes as she looked down at Pascal's blindfolded face. His head moved slightly as it laid on top of her lap. Meanwhile, she took his trembling hand into her own as she felt the weak movements of his still-bandaged fingers.


"You've taken care of a disabled man before?"
The healers hadn't been sure when he would awake from his coma. They said perhaps this week, perhaps next month, perhaps never. It was a miracle that he had survived at all. To be conscious again after just six days time was surely a blessing from some higher power that watched over them.


"Sort of, for my Grandpa, back in the world where I came from," Kaede explained as her arms reached into the shallow water and elevated a leg to wash. "He was a Shturmovik pilot -- essentially the air cavalry of my world -- during our 'Great Patriotic War'. He was hit by anti-air flak fire during combat. His leg never remained the same and was the first to go during old age. I wasn't old enough to help much before he died, although I've watched my mother and elder sister at it."
Kaede could sense Pascal trying to put strength into his arms. However, with his right hand arrested by her grip, he tried next with his left hand. The arm was slightly shaky at first. Yet as it rose, his control became noticeably better, and a lot more so than his right hand.


She still remembered all the times her mother and sister had to work together just to replace the bedsheets or roll him onto his side to wipe his back with a towel. Even the most basic chores could take up to an hour and leave both of them sweaty and exhausted.
"Don't..." Kaede caught his other wrist before it could reach his face. "Don't try to take off the blindfold. Your eyes haven't recovered yet. You'll go blind."


"At least Pascal can still lift himself and doesn't require me to change his diapers," Kaede absentmindedly added.
"K-kaede?" A sickly, raspy voice emerged from Pascal's parched throat. The healers had kept his body fed and hydrated through ''Sustenance'' spells, though it clearly wasn't enough. His body continued to tax itself in a low fever. It was gradually repairing the horrendous damage taken from the directional thermonuclear blast.


A soft giggle came from the maid, while his Lordship groaned:
Meanwhile, the healer girl who just put the other patient back to sleep crawled over on top of the wagon bed. She pulled out a crystal display from her extradimensional pouch and began casting several diagnosis spells.


"Please leave me what dignity I still have left."
"Don't speak," Kaede added before remembering their familiar link. "<Don't tire yourself out. Just speak to me by telepathy.>"


Even Kaede grinned a little as she scrubbed the towel down his leg and around his feet a little too enthusiastically.
Kaede thumbed the back of his hand as she stared at his pale cheeks. She felt her eyes grow blurry as she brought his fingers up to her tender cheeks. His touch was cold and clammy but she didn't care. She was just glad that he was back among the living once more.


"That hurts," Pascal suddenly exclaimed.
The pain and nausea that ebbed over their empathic link were growing. Pascal's body was clearly still in a state of recovery. It wasn't a surprise. After all, the acute radiation poisoning that he had suffered should have, would have killed him had he been on Earth.


She had pulled his leg up too far. The still-healing tendons weren't meant to stretch.
His next appointment with the senior healer wasn't until dusk, when two of them would cast ''Regeneration'', ''Cleanse'', and ''Invigorate'' on every one of his damaged organs and muscle groups again. Magic was the only reason he still lived. And even then, the healers weren't sure how much of his bodily functions he could recover.


"Sorry," Kaede rushed to lower it, almost losing her balance on the pool's edge in the process. Only a last second hold on his shoulders kept her from falling in, though the sudden pressure on his injury forced Pascal to clench his teeth as he tried to conceal a pained groan.
Yet, despite his misery and agony, Pascal's first statement had nothing to do with his own personal well-being:


"Ah! Sorry I didn't mean to do that!"
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> failed... did I not?>"


"You know -- this would be easier if you just came into the water with me. There ''is'' room."
Kaede could hear the disappointment in his trembling voice. She laid her palm over his right hand -- which was still feeling its way across her cheeks -- and pressed her head against it. She wanted him to feel the smile that he could not see. She wanted him to touch her joyful tears and be reassured that all was still well.


"Yes, I'm sure you would love that..." She rolled her eyes, before she realized that he could see the disorientation of her sight.
There were so many, so many things she wanted to say to him. But at the moment, none of them seemed to matter. The fact he was still alive and awake was enough for her, for now.


"My eyes are still blind, in case you forgot," Pascal turned his blindfolded face towards her as a reminder. "I only see what you see -- which is honestly rather weird when I'm looking at my own naked self."
"<No, you didn't,> she replied. "<You blew away the Caliphate's entire right wing -- their best cavalry brigade by survivors' accounts. It did hurt our forces as well...>" She didn't try to hide. "<But, in the end, ''we won.''>"


Kaede sighed as she sat up and straightened her back. ''He does have a point,'' she thought with a frown.
Pascal didn't need to hear how exactly they won yet. There would be a time for that later, when he was feeling better and not stuck in depressing darkness.


''...And why am I being so sensitive about this? If this was back in Japan, we'd just be two guys in a public bath.''
An audible sigh of relief came from Pascal as he relaxed on top of the wool blanket. Then, as a hot tear dropped from Kaede's eyes onto his fingertips, his blindfolded eyes turned towards Kaede once more:


Of course, it was hard to forget the reason: she wasn't a 'guy' anymore. If nothing else, the strenuous work would probably be easier if she still was.
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> am sorry...>"


"Fine," Kaede conceded at last.
"<You... ''idiot!''>" the familiar girl choked back a sob. "<Did you even have ''any idea'' of just what kind of fire you were playing with!?>"


She started to unbutton her pseudo-uniform jacket before she remembered:
Kaede almost burst into tears as memories of that night came rushing back in. Thousands of burned out tree husks stretched on for kilopaces. Tangles of blackened limbs piled together as soldiers dumped bodies onto corpse wagons. She would have thought Pascal dead had it not been for her own life. Yet the state she found him in wasn't much better -- with severe burns covering him from head to toe and entire patches of inflamed red skin sloughing off.


"Marina, could you please cut new bandages from that roll on the dresser? Use the same sizes as the ones I just took off. Just leave them on a chair by the door when you finish. And also please wash his clothes."
A mental sigh emerged from Pascal as his feeble fingertips tickled her cheek.


"As you wish, ''Milady''." The maid teased one last time before closing the door, leaving the two in private.
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> am sorry to have worried you...>" He replied slowly with a tinge of regret. Kaede remembered then that he could keenly feel her emotions in a manner much better than she could feel his. It offered him a perfect mental image of her expression, even if his eyes couldn't actually see.


"Cut the link," Kaede then turned to Pascal. "I have to look at myself when I undress. No staring."
"<But...>" He continued more forcefully. "<nowiki><It</nowiki> was a ''necessary'' fire to play.>"


Her master gave an exasperated sigh.
"<And just who do you think would be happy if you had died!?>" Kaede retorted as her emotions turned to anger. "<Your father in heaven? Your fiancée? Do you think I'd thank you for dying and pushing me off to my next life?>"


"I have seen you naked before..."
"<That is not for any of us to decide,>" Pascal spoke dryly. "<Unfortunately, only the Holy Father can ultimately decide where my fate lies.>"


"''Just, do it!''"
His comment knocked Kaede off balance, leaving her staring back in surprise. She couldn't quite grasp it yet. But, something about Pascal was... different. Something beyond merely his injured state.


"Fine, fine." Pascal begrudgingly agreed, though Kaede had no means of making certain.
This wasn't the same Pascal she had left before the Battles of Lysardh Point and Glywysing.


"You could try asking nicely at least, like how you asked your maid."


"She didn't turn me into a girl, which I'm ''reminded of'' every time I undress." Kaede snapped back as she pulled off her skirt and threw it onto a pile atop the nearby chair. She then reaching behind her neck, her fingers fumbling to untie the knot that held up her undergarment's halter top.
...
 
"When are you going to let that go?"
 
"When I'm back..." She uttered before her lips froze.
 
She had wanted to say ''back in my old world and body''. Though at this point, she wasn't even sure if that would ever happen. Especially if what Lady Gwendolyn's comment was true, and that another Worldwalker did hijacked Pascal's familiar summoning spell for reasons unknown.
 
''What if I can never go back?''
 
Leaning over the pool, Kaede examined at her naked reflection. A petite girl's face and body stared back at her , complete with delicate features, thin shoulders, and small breasts.
 
That was her now. That was her life now. Everything before -- everything she once remembered -- was gone, lost to her in this new world.
 
A droplet fell into the water and sent out ripples to disturb the image. The tears had slid down from her eyes before she even noticed them.
 
"I am sorry Kaede. I should not have brought it up again," Pascal's voice was solemn this time, without even a trace of the playfulness it held earlier. "And you have every reason to still hate me for it."
 
"I don't..." She wiped her eyes as her legs stepped into the pool. "I don't ''hate'' you for it, alright? I don't even blame you for it much anymore. I just... haven't quite gotten over it yet."
 
"And..." her wispy voice dropped to a bare whisper. "I don't know if I ever will. It's hard to just 'let it go' when I lost everything in my life and had it reset."
 
"Yes." He acknowledged. "I understand. Again, I am sorry."
 
Exhaling a deep breath, Kaede sat down besides him and pulled his legs onto her lap. She wanted to resume his bath, to at least keep moving with her new life and take her mind off what cannot be helped.
 
...Just like she had been doing all this time.
 
 
<nowiki>------ * * * ------</nowiki>
 
 
Kaede's consciousness awoke. Her eyes fluttered and opened to the dark room, lit by only the bright moonlight filtering in through the curtains. Her senses returned to her body as her mind rebooted itself, sorting out the information from her surroundings.
 
She could feel movement. The comforter pulled and the mattress below her shifted. She could no longer feel Pascal next to her...
 
"Pascal...?"
 
Sitting up, she quickly noticed Pascal's dark figure on the edge of the bed. He was trying to use the chamber pot, and -- not for the first time -- he was having difficulty doing so.
 
"Wait... let me help."
 
Pushing herself out from the covers, Kaede shivered as she stood up in the room's colder air. Walking around the bed, she soon helped to steady Pascal before pulling the small chamber pot on the bedside chair closer to his private parts.
 
''At least I didn't have to help with his pajamas this time,'' she thought with a yawn. His motor skills were definitely recovering.
 
Her hand kept the chamber pot tilted until the sound of his pee hitting water stopped.
 
"Sorry for waking you," she heard Pascal mumble. "I thought I could manage by myself this time."
 
"It's my job to help take care of you right now," Kaede rubbed his shoulder as she replied. "You don't need to feel ashamed about it."
 
"I doubt there is a man who does not feel shame when he can only answer nature's call with help," his figure shook as he pulled up his pajama pants once more.
 
''That's... probably true. Especially for one as prideful as him,'' Kaede thought, before pushing the chamber pot back into its spot against the chair's back.
 
She then helped tuck Pascal in, before rushing back to her side and snuggling between the warm sheets once more.
 
The two of them did not speak any further. Though as Kaede twisted and turned with time's passing, she realized that she couldn't go back to sleep.
 
She had rushed back to bed not just because it was cold, but because the darkness disquieted her. The odd shadows caused by the curtains' wrinkles, the pitch blackness in the room's corners, they reminded her of images that she desperately wanted to forget:
 
The haunting memories of Glywysing's battlefield, with its blackened fields and burnt tree husks and carts of mangled bodies.
 
She could almost see the shadowy outlines of disintegrated soldiers engraved into the room's walls, or the piles of blackened flesh and bones haphazardly piled into corpse wagons in the dressing mirror.
 
Even closing her eyes did not help, as images of that day replayed itself in her mind's eye over and over again.
 
"Pascal?" Kaede whispered as she pulled the covers higher and squirmed closer to him. Maybe, like her, he was also still awake.
 
Her guess proved correct as he responded:
 
"Yes?"
 
Though now she had his attention, she wasn't really sure what to say.


She hadn't approached him at all about what he did on the Lotharin left flank that day. It seemed, inappropriate, to confront a severely-wounded patient about it.


However, Kaede also knew that they had to have a proper discussion about it. She needed that conversation. ''They'' needed it.


''Just... not tonight.''
"<...The Rangers estimated that out of almost ten thousand Cataliyan troops who arrived on the battlefield, less than a thousand escaped,>" Kaede finished her summary of the conclusion to the Battle of Glywysing.


She snuggled up to his side and pulled the comforter over her head. Her hands took his and clasped around it, as though seeking proof that he was still there.
It felt odd for Kaede to not see his clear, turquoise gaze. Instead, she faced only the black blindfold that wrapped between his golden, wavy hair and his pale, faded cheeks.


"Next time, please, talk to me first, before you put any knowledge I gave you into action."
Even most of his emotions seem to have vanished from their empathic feedback link. They left behind only his ebbing pain and nausea. Pascal must have suppressed it, and the master-to-familiar channel was not as sensitive as its reverse. Kaede could only sense powerful sentiments through it to begin with, or moderate emotions if she concentrated. But now, there was almost nothing on the other side.


She felt that would be enough for one night. That should be enough for ''tonight''.
It was as if she was talking to a faceless... well, certainly not a stranger, as she could easily recognize him even with his blindfold. But it simply felt... ''weird''.


For a minute, Pascal didn't say anything. Then, her hand felt felt the squeeze as his fingers closed around hers.
"<And our losses?>" Pascal asked with a thoughtful nod.


"You have my promise."
"<We lost around twenty-five hundred out of our four thousand troops,>" Kaede tried to sound positive as she replied. "<The lowest casualties were actually on your flank, as your spell destroyed the enemy right wing wholesale. However, it also left your wing so disorganized and shaken they hardly participated in the remainder of the battle.>"


Kaede nodded against his shoulders in a silent ''thank you''.
"<nowiki><I</nowiki> see...>" Pascal sighed.


At last, with his warmth as her shelter, she began drifting off to sleep.
An uncomfortable silence settled over their private channel. Though the atmosphere was not quiet as the creaking of wagon wheels, the steel of marching soldiers, and the chatter of drivers and troops alike continued to fill the air. Yet to Kaede they all seemed distant, nondescript.


She never heard his quiet mutter half an hour later, or noticed that Pascal still laid awake and brooding in the darkness.
"<Pascal, please. Don't shut me out like this.>" Kaede frowned at him. ''You're just like my dad.''


"The responsibility is mine, Kaede. I am sorry to have burdened you with my failure."
"<Then speak clearly,>" he countered, his harsh words almost accusatory. "<What are you not telling me?>"


"<W-what are you talking about?>"


<nowiki>------ * * * ------</nowiki>
The question came so sudden it caught her off guard.


"<nowiki><I</nowiki> am blind, not ''stupid''. Although I guess there is not a huge difference.>" Pascal sighed bitterly. "<There is no way we could have won that battle if my spell neutralized both sides at once. My entire gamble rested on blowing away the Cataliyans' right wing so that my troops -- still fresh -- could swing around and smash into their flank. Their deployment was premature, which gave us a short window of opportunity to knock them off balance. Otherwise, there was no way our outnumbered ''and'' underequipped soldiers could win!>"


On the same night, in the Caliphate camp south of the Gwilen River, the Marid Hakim sat next to his partner's bed as he held onto an ailing hand.
Without much of a choice, Kaede told Pascal the whole story of the battle as she heard it. How the Lotharins had lost the town. How the Princess had been pressed to the brink of defeat. How she had been rescued by Edith's counterattack, mere moments before the reserves ran out of momentum. Then, when the Lotharins were spent and the battle seemed lost, a miracle happened as an entire forest uprooted itself.


General Salim was almost bald as his hair shed over the course of the past week. His skin was sloughing off in chunks, exposing unsightly 'burns' and blisters all over his body. Three ulcers had popped around his lips, leaving gaping sores that added to the nonstop bleeding from his nose. The entire tent smelled of vomit and diarrhea, as Hakim had lost track of how many times Salim's bed had to be cleansed with magic.
"<...We told the army that we had known about the Migrating Trees all along,>" Kaede explained what had happened afterwards. "<We said that it was based on a tome left to the royal family by Queen Gwendolen, that the queen had enchanted a segment of the forest in Southern Ceredigion while she was still alive. It was somewhere along the road to the capital, though we weren't sure exactly where. It was our luck that we were close enough for the magic released by the battle to awaken the trees.>"


The healers had all given up, despite Hakim's offers of reward which included an entire lifetime's accumulated wealth. "His organs are beginning to fail," they had declared earlier.
"<And Sylv... did not tell me any of this beforehand?>" Pascal asked in a disappointed voice.


Perhaps if the General had returned from the Ceredigion forests faster, they might have had a chance. But Salim wanted to make sure that the remnants of his cavalry made it back out, and for that he lost any hope of saving his own life. Since then, his condition had rapidly deteriorated. Even his breathing was now unnatural: it almost sounded like he was drowning from a lack of breath, which was not far from the truth as his lungs began filling with his own blood and fluids.
"<Because only half of it is true,>" Kaede said with a scowl and a frown. "<Even we're not completely sure how the trees awoke, or how Elspeth just happened to stumble across a tome on how to communicate with them in the forest. But according to what's written, it was indeed Queen Gwendolen who created the Migrating Trees.>"


The Marid squeezed the hand of his partner. They've been together for over forty years, standing together day after day. From the courthouse to the battlefield, from the southern steppes of Eurypha to the northwestern forests of Hyperion, the two of them had spent more time together than Salim did with even all of his wives combined.
The Samaran girl had a headache just thinking about it. It wasn't merely because of its implausibility either. She ''knew'' that she remembered more about what happened. Yet for some reason, she couldn't remember it ''right now''. It was as though she suddenly had selective amnesia.


They were the truest of brothers, and a crystal blue tear of magic-infused water slid from the Marid's eyes as he watched his partner die a most agonizing death, helpless to do anything about it.
"<nowiki><It</nowiki> is the Holy Father's will then,s>" Pascal muttered with a sigh. "<What happened afterwards?>"


"Hakim..." the General coughed out one last breath. "Please... take care... our men."
"<The trees chased the Caliphate army out of the town of Glywysing and drove them from the battlefield,>" Kaede answered with a shrug. "<And the rest you already know.>"


The sacrifice of ten thousand troops as the rear guard had purchased enough time. Twenty-seven thousand Caliphate soldiers withdrew south of the Gwilen River this morning and destroyed the bridges behind them. Nearly two-thirds of the men were logistical troops with little actual combat strength. However, by keeping up an illusion of General Salim alive and in the saddle, they forced the exhausted Lotharins to act cautiously and forfeit their narrow window to give chase.
"<So... in the end, what I did mattered not at all.>" Pascal took a deep exhale.


"I promise."
The void where his emotions had been suppressed returned once more. Kaede could feel the gloom of his guilt spreading from their empathic link. The dark fog soon took on a sickly hue as it turned into one of disgust, even loathing -- hate not directed towards anyone else, but at himself.


Barely holding his composure together, Hakim vowed as the light slowly faded from the General's gaze. His hand trembled as he gripped his partner's fingers, realizing that their limp state meant that Salim had just passed away.
"<Pascal...>" Kaede felt his anger tore into her own emotions. They stabbed into her heart like glass shards. It smashed her calm and her composure as though a raging bull in a China shop. Her eyes grew teary as she realized why he was trying to bottle everything in.


The past three weeks had cost the Caliphate nearly seventy thousand soldiers on this war front alone. But even the sum of all those lives could not compare to the loss of his longtime companion. Baha ad-Din Salim ibn Ziyad was not just another 'statistic'. He was not just another faceless name lost in the lengthy casualty reports.
"<What do the troops say about me?>" He demanded next, as if already knowing the answer.


No, he was the dearest of friends, and Hakim would ''never'' be able to forget it.
"Pascal..." Kaede pleaded as tears brimmed in her eyes once more. She hadn't even realized that she dropped out of telepathy and spoke through the real air. "Pascal, please. You're overthinking things."


"I swear... I will see our army back to the Caliphate. I will see it rebuilt."
"J-just answer the question, you silly girl," the young lord's raspy voice blurted out. "What do the troops say about me?"


He vowed to himself, to his partner's ascending soul, to the Prophet and to God himself.  
For a moment, Kaede gawked back as if she had just been slapped. And that crucial moment was all it took for him to learn the terrible truth.


"And ''I will'' have revenge upon these infidels."
"They say that Your Lordship is a born destroyer with a callous disregard for friendly casualties," the wagon driver spoke in a voice that was laced with both awe and fear. "The men can't decide between calling Your Grace the ''Dusklord'' or ''Blightlord'' right now. Though a suggestion to just smush the words together in typical Weichsen fashion is catching on."  




Latest revision as of 23:07, 20 April 2025

Chapter 2 - Playing with Fire

Kaede woke up from her slumber as the wagon bed lurched. A wooden wheel seemed to have hit a rock on the snow-covered dirt road.

The Samaran girl rubbed her eyes with her small hands as she registered her surroundings. She sat in the front-left side of a covered wagon on top of a thick, woolen blanket. Meanwhile Pascal, who was still unconscious, laid flat with his head in her lap.

A young, apprentice healer girl sat diagonally across from Kaede and peered out to the rear. To her side lay another patient -- a Lotharin noble who looked not even thirty. His exposed face and limbs were largely covered in bandages, while his unconscious face was red from a burning fever.

Kaede could hear the creaking of wagon wheels and the clinking mail of armored troops. She could see the train of vehicles to both the front and rear which traversed through the wintry forest on a narrow road. Thousands of soldiers marched in columns on each flank through the snow-covered ground. The horse-drawn wagon behind her carried no less than six injured officers. While the one behind that was outright packed with wounded soldiers.

Aristocratic privileges, Kaede couldn't help but smile a little. She doubted the people in the wagons behind them could stretch out their legs as she did in her sparse carriage.

Nevertheless, the familiar felt not just drowsy but exhausted. The healers had asked her for more blood last night, and she had given them enough that it left her anemic. It didn't help that she had another nightmare which jolted her awake in a cold sweat. The haunting image of a blackened wasteland had replaced the snowy landscape of her previous dreams, where zombie-like corpses crawled and lunged after her in waves of endless terror.

Kaede was about to doze off again when a ringtone began in the back of her head. Her torso jerked upright as another bump in the road lurched the wagon's carriage at the same time.

Magic always seemed to adjust to the user. And in the case of her earrings' ability to receive Farspeak, the lively music it used was the same as Kaede's cell phone on Earth.

Must be Her Highness... or rather, elder sister calling. Kaede adjusted her thoughts with a faint smile. She was still trying to grow accustomed to thinking of Princess Sylviane as her elder sister.

Regardless, the familiar reached up with one hand and squeezed her earring between her thumb and index finger.

"<Hello. You've reached the voicemail box of Kae-->"

"<Cease whatever joke you are playing at, Miss Familiar.>" Kaede immediately recognized the serious tone of Karsten, Pascal's Majordomo from his Nordkreuz estate. "<Is His Grace, your master, available? I've been trying to reach him for two days now.>"

"<He's... unconscious.>" Her mental voice darkened. "<He sustained some serious injuries from the recent battle.>" She added without explaining in further detail just how bad those injuries were.

"<Then how are you doing fine?>" Karsten snarled. "<Is it not your duty to protect your master?>"

Kaede pursed her lips as a sharp retort rose from within her. She had been nearly thirty kilopaces away when Pascal cast that reckless spell. How could she have helped?

-- Yet, at the same time, she was also the reason he experimented with magic beyond his comprehension in the first place.

"<I was in a different battle, per his orders.>"

Even Karsten couldn't reprimand her for that.

"<Then I hope you're taking proper care of him.>" The Majordomo's stern voice rang as authoritative as to the estate's other servants. It was clear that in Karsten's eyes, Kaede was merely another servant to the House of Moltewitz.

"<I am, and he's slowly recovering.>" Kaede tried to sound reassuring. "<May I ask what you are calling about? Perhaps the Princess would like to know as well.>"

"<Her Highness does not need to be bothered by such trifles,>" The Majordomo reprimanded. "<However, it may help if you inquire with one of her advisors. We're running into some... business trouble, here in Nordkreuz. The public-private investment partnerships that His Grace created before his departure have developed some questionable behavior as of late.>"

Kaede's lips twisted. She should have expected this. Every economic reform throughout history had run into its share of road bumps and, occasionally, massive pitfalls.

"<What's the issue?>"

"<Do you remember the North Sea Company that His Grace created?>"

"<Yes,>" Kaede nodded.

Pascal had established several publicly traded companies to help spur the reconstruction of Nordkreuz. Three of them were allocated to the different guilds and their industrial workshops, while a fourth -- the North Sea Trading Company -- was set aside for the harbor and its dock facilities. The idea was to attract private investments for the rapid re-establishment of Nordkreuz's strategic trade port. In turn, the port would share 50% of its future profits with all private investors.

"<Stock values in the company have been rising at a phenomenal rate,>" Karsten began to explain. "<We considered this good news at first, as the harbor's reconstruction is meant to lead redevelopment efforts in Nordkreuz. A rise in its stock share value shows the public's faith in Nordkreuz's economic recovery. We hoped that this would, in turn, also boost confidence in the other company stocks and bring in more investment. However, Her Grace, Cardinal-Chancellor Lisbeth, has expressed concerns that the changes are... 'too unnatural'... which is ironic since that better describes her own habits.>"

You mean her love of young boys, Kaede almost scoffed. Even she had heard the rumors by now.

"<Her Grace warned that the stock value's climb has been alarmingly fast,>" Karsten continued as his tone grew more troubled with worries. "<She is concerned at how the city is awash with rumors on how quickly the company could profit, once the Skagen Peninsula's territories are annexed by the King's peace treaty with the Northmen. These rumors claim that there is great wealth in the north, that new products like cocoa and sugarcane would soon enter the market to earn a fortune...>"

Kaede frowned. She had learned from her conversations with Cecylia and Perceval that both cocoa and sugarcane had become commonplace in Skagen society thanks to their colonies in the New World. However, while the Grand Jarldom of Skagen had a formal trade embargo with both the Kingdom of Weichsel and the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea, these products nevertheless entered the Imperial-speaking cultural sphere through traders in Gleann Mòr and illegal smugglers on the North Sea.

I wonder if there's an Adam Smith of Hyperion who is writing furiously right now, Kaede thought of the 'Father of Capitalism', who relentlessly attacked the stupidity of trade embargos in how they negatively impacted both sides -- the British and French in his time -- while enriching the coffers of the Dutch middlemen.

Nevertheless, both cocoa and sugarcane required tropical climates to grow. They certainly would not thrive near the shores of the cold North Sea. And while Weichsen soldiers likely acquired batches of it during their raids across the Skagen Peninsula, it didn't mean that these lands could yield such crops.

"<The traders within the city should know better!>" The familiar retorted.

"<They do, and many of them have actively opposed these rumors,>" Karsten stated. "<Yet the claims continue to spread, as if all voices of reason have been pushed into a corner. It doesn't help that even when one rumor is dispelled, another -- such as claims that the Northmen's silver mostly came from their peninsular mines -- replaces it. To the best of our knowledge, there aren't any silver mines in the peninsula.>"

That's not a good sign, Kaede thought as she furrowed her brows.

The marginalization of accurate information required purposeful propaganda. Some unseen actor was actively spreading false information to engineer public opinion.

It reminded Kaede of the disinformation campaign launched by American and British media in the run up to the 2003 Invasion of Iraq to gain control of its vast oil wealth. In less than three months, public approval of a war to remove Iraq's supposed 'weapons of mass destruction' went from less than 25% to over 75% of the populace. Meanwhile, anyone who expressed disapproval of the war on mass media was declared a traitor and had their careers destroyed. Even allies -- like the French who refused to participate -- were ridiculed and branded as spineless, immoral cowards by the media onslaught.

"<These rumors are causing 'speculation' -- as the Cardinal describes it -- to run astray,>" Karsten continued. "<One local guildmaster claims that all his apprentices have sunk their savings into the company. Because of such rash behavior, the North Sea Company's stocks have multiplied more than tenfold over the past few weeks. The stock has achieved total values that -- according to the Cardinal's agents -- are reaching even the gross value of Nordkreuz before the air raid.>"

"<Do you know what is the P/E ratio?>" Kaede asked as her anxieties grew.

"<P/E?>"

"<Sorry. The ratio of market price per share divided by the earnings per share,>" The familiar had to clarify her modern terminology.

"<One moment. Let me add someone...>" Karsten answered before a new, much younger voice joined the conversation:

"<Good morning, Kaede. This is Marshal Wiktor von Falkenhausen speaking.>"

Cecylia's dad! The Samaran girl's eyes widened as she thought of the handsome dhampir whom she had met back in Nordkreuz. He's been made Marshal too!

Kaede realized then that Karsten must have linked his Farspeak call to her with a Telepathy connection from the new Marshal. It readily created a telepathic chatroom that stretched across thousands of kilopaces.

"<The price per share of the North Sea Trading Company has just exceeded 2,000 this morning, while the earnings per share -- even if we use commerce figures from before the Battle of Nordkreuz -- would only be about 4.5 marks,>" Wiktor responded to her earlier question. "<The price per share had been less than 100 merely a week ago.>"

The Samaran girl's brain did the math and... That's a P/E of over 220! Kaede's mental alarms immediately sounded.

Kaede wasn't much of a stock trader back in Japan. But she did talk about it with the family, especially as Konstantin wanted to make sure his son had a 'basic financial education' which was sorely lacking in schools. She remembered that a healthy P/E ratio was around 15. Anything above 100 was definitely a bubble. Even worse, her P/E ratio was using 'projected figures', as the destroyed harbor wasn't even rebuilt yet and it currently had virtually no revenue source at all!

The Samaran girl bit her lip. This was proof enough to clear all doubts.

Someone at Nordkreuz -- perhaps a group of wealthy speculators -- has learned to game the new system. The false rumors were almost definitely started by them. And the rampant speculation was fast forming a 'financial bubble' where asset prices grew to be implausibly, unrealistically high.

If such a bubble was allowed to keep growing, it would eventually burst. The collapse of the Japanese Assets Bubble in 1992 ruined an entire generation to stagnation in the 'Lost Decades'. A single company in Nordkreuz should not have such catastrophic results. However, with public confidence on the line and people betting their life savings on such a gamble, even a small disaster could ruin Pascal and her attempts to introduce modern finance.

"<Marshal Wiktor, Mister Karsten, please listen to me carefully -- this is a potential problem that Pascal foresaw in our discussions,>" Kaede told an outright lie to fabricate some authority for her following statements. "<The Cardinal-Chancellor is correct. The North Sea Company is developing what we call a 'bubble'. If it is left unmanaged, it could spell disaster for Pascal's new economic policies. We must nip this problem in the bud by popping this bubble with a sharp needle immediately.>"

"<His Grace always did show foresight,>" Karsten spoke as proudly as a father would. "<He has left instructions then?>"

"<Yes.>" Kaede's thoughts were running on overcapacity now. Even for her this was frontier territory, and she could only rely on her knowledge of historical bubbles. "<We're not sure if this'll work, so please run everything past Cardinal Lisbeth first...>"

"<Hold up on that,>" Marshal Wiktor interjected before silence fell over the link. Kaede wasn't complaining though, as her brain was already overheating as she hastily put together a plan of action.

The Samaran girl had read enough about historical financial crises from Earth to at least grasp the overall strategy. However, while she could make high level plans, the execution was a far more complicated affair. Furthermore, not only did Kaede lack understanding of the intricacies of financial and economic management, she also had zero experience in trying to organize and coordinate so many people at once.

Therefore, Kaede had to entrust the execution of this plan to others. And there was no better candidate in her mind than the Cardinal-Chancellor, who was a deft old hand with decades of experience in managing Weichsel's economy.

"<This is Lisbeth.>" An older, feminine voice joined in several minutes later.

"<Lizzie,>" Wiktor spoke as though greeting an old friend. "<I have Pascal's Majordomo Karsten and his familiar Kaede with me on the network. Kaede was just about to recommend an idea from her master on how to address the issue we've been discussing regarding the North Sea Company.>"

"<I'm listening,> Lisbeth replied curtly.

"<Your Grace,>" Kaede greeted first before explaining her draft proposal as her master's idea. "<Pascal suggested that in the event of a 'bubble' forming -- that is, excessive speculation upon the stocks that result in unrealistically high share values -- we should immediately pull out 90% of his initial investment in the troubled company at once. This also includes any investment made using the King's funds. As the original shareholder, Pascal's stocks represent a sizable slice of the investment pie. This will surely cause a noticeable dip in the company's asset value.>

"<People will notice the sudden drop, and their confidence will waver,>" Kaede continued. "<Seize this opportunity and spread a counter-rumor that the North Sea Company is currently facing a crisis of mismanagement. Tell them that the Landgrave has discovered that several harbor managers are lying about the company's future prospects, and that he is about to clean house and punish those who are responsible for spreading rumors based on fabrications and lies. Use the estate's maids, footmen, deliverymen -- anyone you have access to propel the rumor to give it more legitimacy...>"

"<The maids and footmen, spreading rumors!?>" Karsten sounded insulted.

"<Mister Karsten, please. More is at stake here than the honor of the house,>" Kaede pleaded. "<Someone is likely manipulating the system in a most treacherous attempt to earn a greedy profit, perhaps even to sabotage Nordkreuz.>"

Now that she considered it, Kaede would not be surprised if this whole incident was deliberate sabotage. The Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea certainly has a history of tying military and economic expansion together. Weakening Nordkreuz by sabotaging its economy would definitely play to its geostrategic interests.

"<I completely agree,>" Marshal Wiktor added. His sentiments were then echoed by Cardinal Lisbeth.

Faced with the dire circumstances, Karsten replied with only a begrudging "<...I understand.>"

"<Once the rumors begin clashing and the stock prices waver, you should openly, publicly confirm the Landgrave's loss of confidence in the company using your position as the estate's steward,>" Kaede carefully added the plan's supporting elements. "<This will discredit any other ongoing rumors, and hopefully deliver a Coup de Grace to the whole charade. Meanwhile, put a trade ceiling -- a daily limit on the amount of stocks bought or sold at once by any investor -- on each individual stock.>

"<Pascal's suggestion was to use the yearly earnings of a new craftsman as the baseline figure. For those who partook in the initial offering, this limit could be raised to equal their initial share. This will stop the culprits from trying to hide the stock's decline using their own funds, but also help protect the poor investors if our actions are successful.>"

It was also the reason why Kaede suggested leaving 10% of Pascal's total shares in the system. This would allow sizeable reinvestments to be made without violating their own rules.

"<We do not yet have a system set up for such fine methods of control,>" the Cardinal-Chancellor warned. "<It may take some time -- perhaps a week -- for my people to properly establish such.>"

Kaede twisted her lips. Time was of the essence. Yet it was also the Achilles' heel of new ideas. There needs to be an institution set in place to manage everything -- to control, to supervise, to enforce.

Cardinal-Chancellor Lisbeth was the most prominent figure in the Weichsen civil bureaucracy. She had direct control over two of the five ministries. Her people could no doubt summon an army of clerks and accountants to manage transactions and perform record-keeping. However, legal enforcement was outside her jurisdiction. Therefore, not only did she lack the authority to conduct investigations into the accounts of private enterprises, she likely also lacked personnel who specialize in tracking, monitoring, and arresting suspects.

Then a lightbulb lit in Kaede's mind.

Weichsel was a near-absolute monarchy. This gave one body the highest authority to interfere in all civil and military affairs as they saw fit. Kaede wasn't sure what exactly was the relationship between the Black Eagles and Weichsel's Ministry of Law. But she had no doubts over who had greater freedom of action in a crisis situation.

"<Please file an official appeal to King Leopold that we would like to request the aid of his Black Eagles,>" Kaede answered. "<Tell His Majesty that we need his royal authority and their enforcement powers to deal with this potential crisis. Furthermore, ask for the Eagles' help in monitoring and reporting on anyone who attempts to retrieve sums that greatly exceed the daily purchase ceiling. His Majesty should also know that we suspect there may be foreign subterfuge at play, with the goal of wrecking Nordkreuz's economic recovery efforts.>"

"<That sounds like a good starting point.>" Cardinal Lisbeth answered thoughtfully. "<I will work with Majordomo Karsten to gauge the right amount of divestment to achieve the results we need.>"

"<And I will contact His Majesty regarding this matter immediately,>" Marshal Wiktor added.

Kaede had to pause for a moment and blink as she heard their acknowledgements. She could hardly believe she was conversing with two of Weichsel's highest ranking leaders as if they were equals.

Nevertheless, she still wasn't done:

"<If our counter-offensive proves successful, the North Sea Company's stocks will begin a sharp decline as people lose their confidence and pull out their funds. Once the fall begins, we can slowly re-inject Pascal's pulled funds over a period of multiple days to stabilize its descent. Mister Karsten, Pascal asks that you cooperate fully with Her Grace on the quantity, frequency, and timing of divestment and reinvestment. The goal is to allow the company to return to its starting point, reset and restabilize. But the descent should be slow, not all at once, so that the people's losses may be mitigated and their confidence in the system overall maintained.>"

The good news was that by pulling most of his investments out while the stock was at its peak, Pascal would make many times his original funds in profits. This would give them more than sufficient of a 'war chest' to fight the remainder of the economic battle.

We'll make you pay dearly for trying to sabotage our economy, just like what the Chinese and Hong Kong authorities did to George Soros. Kaede grinned wolfishly as she thought back to the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis.

"<Yes. I agree that returning sanity and stability to the new market is our primary concern,>" Cardinal Lisbeth responded, before she recapped the conversation with a complete list of all the actionable items. This included additional details and fine-tuning tweaks that she added herself. It rather impressed Kaede how quickly she caught on.

It's no wonder King Leopold relies on her, Kaede thought before she decided to add: "<Your Grace, in addition to the North Sea Company, please work with Karsten to take appropriate measures on the other companies' stocks should anything unnatural happen.>"

"<Of course, Miss Familiar. Please tell your master, His Grace, that I will lend my full support on this matter,>" she said before bidding her departure. "<Good day.>"

"<And I as well. Thank you for your excellent advice, Kaede,>" Marshal Wiktor then finished in a teasing tone. "<I'll make sure we make good use of it.>"

He knows that was from me and not Pascal? Kaede couldn't help wondering before adding. "<The recommendations come from Pascal. I'm merely following his directives.>"

"<Of course they do,>" Wiktor then added in a knowing tone. "<Take care, Kaede.>"

He definitely knows. The familiar girl scowled.

"<Mister Karsten,>" Kaede then interjected before the Majordomo could close the connection also. "<Please keep me apprised of day-to-day development. I will also see if any of the Princess' advisors may weigh in on this problem before Pascal has recovered.>"

"<Understood. Please take care of His Grace.>" Karsten was almost imploring. "<I'm counting on you.>"

With a mental 'click', the Farspeak call ended. Kaede then took a deep breath to calm back down.

It was her first experience with just how much power she could wield through decrees in Pascal's name. It wasn't a lowly rank like Pascal the Captain or empty titles like Pascal the Crown Prince Consort either. Instead, today's meeting showed that Pascal exercised true authority and influence through his ducal rank as the Landgrave of Nordkreuz.

Even a slight taste of it felt... intoxicating, in a self-righteous sort of way. Kaede's conversation with Karsten began with him patronizing her. It ended with her giving orders, and not just to him. She had even issued the main plan of action to the Chancellor and Marshal of Weichsel!

I'd better be careful with this power, Kaede couldn't help thinking. This was doubly so as her influence with Princess Sylviane grew. Plenty of trusted, close advisors throughout history had lost their heads because they became overconfident in issuing orders in their master's stead.

Kaede stared back at the long train of over a hundred wagons. It was often too easy to forget how many pieces must be in position for history to be made. The people who worked in the background were often forgotten by everyone except scholars. But that did not mean they lacked the power and influence to affect the world.


...


The Samaran girl was still gazing into the distance when she noticed a twitching jerk from the blanket across from her.

"Attack. Attack!" The youthful noble who lay across from Kaede suddenly cried out in his delirious fever. Tears streamed from his unbandaged eye as it suddenly snapped open and the young man yelled "For Maela! Kill them all!"

The healer girl who sat beside him quickly pulled out a cloth from her waist pouch. She covered his nose and mouth with it. The nobleman struggled slightly before his eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.

Chloroform, Kaede sniffed as she could smell the strong scent from the cloth.

"Sorry," the young healer looked towards the familiar with a wry smile. "I didn't think he'd wake so early."

Kaede could only return a matching smile before she pondered aloud: "who is Maela?"

"His newly-wed bride, from what I've heard." The healer sighed. "They were apparently childhood friends. They married on the same day they joined the Avorican army together."

Kaede grimaced. War stories loved to use such tales to romanticize and glorify heroism. But the reality was that they almost always ended in tragedy.

The familiar was so distracted by what had just happened that she almost missed the faint stirring that came over her familiar link. The placid void she felt instead of Pascal's consciousness was growing active once more. It began to radiate waves of awareness, discomfort, even confusion and pain. Then, right as Kaede looked down with hopeful uncertainty, she saw a twitch from his exposed right hand as Pascal tried to lift his arm.

"Pascal!"

Relief and joy flooded across Kaede's thoughts at once. Both the driver and the healer looked at her with interest but she didn't even care. The Samaran girl felt water in her eyes as she looked down at Pascal's blindfolded face. His head moved slightly as it laid on top of her lap. Meanwhile, she took his trembling hand into her own as she felt the weak movements of his still-bandaged fingers.

The healers hadn't been sure when he would awake from his coma. They said perhaps this week, perhaps next month, perhaps never. It was a miracle that he had survived at all. To be conscious again after just six days time was surely a blessing from some higher power that watched over them.

Kaede could sense Pascal trying to put strength into his arms. However, with his right hand arrested by her grip, he tried next with his left hand. The arm was slightly shaky at first. Yet as it rose, his control became noticeably better, and a lot more so than his right hand.

"Don't..." Kaede caught his other wrist before it could reach his face. "Don't try to take off the blindfold. Your eyes haven't recovered yet. You'll go blind."

"K-kaede?" A sickly, raspy voice emerged from Pascal's parched throat. The healers had kept his body fed and hydrated through Sustenance spells, though it clearly wasn't enough. His body continued to tax itself in a low fever. It was gradually repairing the horrendous damage taken from the directional thermonuclear blast.

Meanwhile, the healer girl who just put the other patient back to sleep crawled over on top of the wagon bed. She pulled out a crystal display from her extradimensional pouch and began casting several diagnosis spells.

"Don't speak," Kaede added before remembering their familiar link. "<Don't tire yourself out. Just speak to me by telepathy.>"

Kaede thumbed the back of his hand as she stared at his pale cheeks. She felt her eyes grow blurry as she brought his fingers up to her tender cheeks. His touch was cold and clammy but she didn't care. She was just glad that he was back among the living once more.

The pain and nausea that ebbed over their empathic link were growing. Pascal's body was clearly still in a state of recovery. It wasn't a surprise. After all, the acute radiation poisoning that he had suffered should have, would have killed him had he been on Earth.

His next appointment with the senior healer wasn't until dusk, when two of them would cast Regeneration, Cleanse, and Invigorate on every one of his damaged organs and muscle groups again. Magic was the only reason he still lived. And even then, the healers weren't sure how much of his bodily functions he could recover.

Yet, despite his misery and agony, Pascal's first statement had nothing to do with his own personal well-being:

"<I failed... did I not?>"

Kaede could hear the disappointment in his trembling voice. She laid her palm over his right hand -- which was still feeling its way across her cheeks -- and pressed her head against it. She wanted him to feel the smile that he could not see. She wanted him to touch her joyful tears and be reassured that all was still well.

There were so many, so many things she wanted to say to him. But at the moment, none of them seemed to matter. The fact he was still alive and awake was enough for her, for now.

"<No, you didn't,> she replied. "<You blew away the Caliphate's entire right wing -- their best cavalry brigade by survivors' accounts. It did hurt our forces as well...>" She didn't try to hide. "<But, in the end, we won.>"

Pascal didn't need to hear how exactly they won yet. There would be a time for that later, when he was feeling better and not stuck in depressing darkness.

An audible sigh of relief came from Pascal as he relaxed on top of the wool blanket. Then, as a hot tear dropped from Kaede's eyes onto his fingertips, his blindfolded eyes turned towards Kaede once more:

"<I am sorry...>"

"<You... idiot!>" the familiar girl choked back a sob. "<Did you even have any idea of just what kind of fire you were playing with!?>"

Kaede almost burst into tears as memories of that night came rushing back in. Thousands of burned out tree husks stretched on for kilopaces. Tangles of blackened limbs piled together as soldiers dumped bodies onto corpse wagons. She would have thought Pascal dead had it not been for her own life. Yet the state she found him in wasn't much better -- with severe burns covering him from head to toe and entire patches of inflamed red skin sloughing off.

A mental sigh emerged from Pascal as his feeble fingertips tickled her cheek.

"<I am sorry to have worried you...>" He replied slowly with a tinge of regret. Kaede remembered then that he could keenly feel her emotions in a manner much better than she could feel his. It offered him a perfect mental image of her expression, even if his eyes couldn't actually see.

"<But...>" He continued more forcefully. "<It was a necessary fire to play.>"

"<And just who do you think would be happy if you had died!?>" Kaede retorted as her emotions turned to anger. "<Your father in heaven? Your fiancée? Do you think I'd thank you for dying and pushing me off to my next life?>"

"<That is not for any of us to decide,>" Pascal spoke dryly. "<Unfortunately, only the Holy Father can ultimately decide where my fate lies.>"

His comment knocked Kaede off balance, leaving her staring back in surprise. She couldn't quite grasp it yet. But, something about Pascal was... different. Something beyond merely his injured state.

This wasn't the same Pascal she had left before the Battles of Lysardh Point and Glywysing.


...


"<...The Rangers estimated that out of almost ten thousand Cataliyan troops who arrived on the battlefield, less than a thousand escaped,>" Kaede finished her summary of the conclusion to the Battle of Glywysing.

It felt odd for Kaede to not see his clear, turquoise gaze. Instead, she faced only the black blindfold that wrapped between his golden, wavy hair and his pale, faded cheeks.

Even most of his emotions seem to have vanished from their empathic feedback link. They left behind only his ebbing pain and nausea. Pascal must have suppressed it, and the master-to-familiar channel was not as sensitive as its reverse. Kaede could only sense powerful sentiments through it to begin with, or moderate emotions if she concentrated. But now, there was almost nothing on the other side.

It was as if she was talking to a faceless... well, certainly not a stranger, as she could easily recognize him even with his blindfold. But it simply felt... weird.

"<And our losses?>" Pascal asked with a thoughtful nod.

"<We lost around twenty-five hundred out of our four thousand troops,>" Kaede tried to sound positive as she replied. "<The lowest casualties were actually on your flank, as your spell destroyed the enemy right wing wholesale. However, it also left your wing so disorganized and shaken they hardly participated in the remainder of the battle.>"

"<I see...>" Pascal sighed.

An uncomfortable silence settled over their private channel. Though the atmosphere was not quiet as the creaking of wagon wheels, the steel of marching soldiers, and the chatter of drivers and troops alike continued to fill the air. Yet to Kaede they all seemed distant, nondescript.

"<Pascal, please. Don't shut me out like this.>" Kaede frowned at him. You're just like my dad.

"<Then speak clearly,>" he countered, his harsh words almost accusatory. "<What are you not telling me?>"

"<W-what are you talking about?>"

The question came so sudden it caught her off guard.

"<I am blind, not stupid. Although I guess there is not a huge difference.>" Pascal sighed bitterly. "<There is no way we could have won that battle if my spell neutralized both sides at once. My entire gamble rested on blowing away the Cataliyans' right wing so that my troops -- still fresh -- could swing around and smash into their flank. Their deployment was premature, which gave us a short window of opportunity to knock them off balance. Otherwise, there was no way our outnumbered and underequipped soldiers could win!>"

Without much of a choice, Kaede told Pascal the whole story of the battle as she heard it. How the Lotharins had lost the town. How the Princess had been pressed to the brink of defeat. How she had been rescued by Edith's counterattack, mere moments before the reserves ran out of momentum. Then, when the Lotharins were spent and the battle seemed lost, a miracle happened as an entire forest uprooted itself.

"<...We told the army that we had known about the Migrating Trees all along,>" Kaede explained what had happened afterwards. "<We said that it was based on a tome left to the royal family by Queen Gwendolen, that the queen had enchanted a segment of the forest in Southern Ceredigion while she was still alive. It was somewhere along the road to the capital, though we weren't sure exactly where. It was our luck that we were close enough for the magic released by the battle to awaken the trees.>"

"<And Sylv... did not tell me any of this beforehand?>" Pascal asked in a disappointed voice.

"<Because only half of it is true,>" Kaede said with a scowl and a frown. "<Even we're not completely sure how the trees awoke, or how Elspeth just happened to stumble across a tome on how to communicate with them in the forest. But according to what's written, it was indeed Queen Gwendolen who created the Migrating Trees.>"

The Samaran girl had a headache just thinking about it. It wasn't merely because of its implausibility either. She knew that she remembered more about what happened. Yet for some reason, she couldn't remember it right now. It was as though she suddenly had selective amnesia.

"<It is the Holy Father's will then,s>" Pascal muttered with a sigh. "<What happened afterwards?>"

"<The trees chased the Caliphate army out of the town of Glywysing and drove them from the battlefield,>" Kaede answered with a shrug. "<And the rest you already know.>"

"<So... in the end, what I did mattered not at all.>" Pascal took a deep exhale.

The void where his emotions had been suppressed returned once more. Kaede could feel the gloom of his guilt spreading from their empathic link. The dark fog soon took on a sickly hue as it turned into one of disgust, even loathing -- hate not directed towards anyone else, but at himself.

"<Pascal...>" Kaede felt his anger tore into her own emotions. They stabbed into her heart like glass shards. It smashed her calm and her composure as though a raging bull in a China shop. Her eyes grew teary as she realized why he was trying to bottle everything in.

"<What do the troops say about me?>" He demanded next, as if already knowing the answer.

"Pascal..." Kaede pleaded as tears brimmed in her eyes once more. She hadn't even realized that she dropped out of telepathy and spoke through the real air. "Pascal, please. You're overthinking things."

"J-just answer the question, you silly girl," the young lord's raspy voice blurted out. "What do the troops say about me?"

For a moment, Kaede gawked back as if she had just been slapped. And that crucial moment was all it took for him to learn the terrible truth.

"They say that Your Lordship is a born destroyer with a callous disregard for friendly casualties," the wagon driver spoke in a voice that was laced with both awe and fear. "The men can't decide between calling Your Grace the Dusklord or Blightlord right now. Though a suggestion to just smush the words together in typical Weichsen fashion is catching on."



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