#one time we got my friend althea to ask the security guard at our middle school what hed do if we all just made a run for it

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

I was thinking about stuff from elementary school again

So like

At my school we weren't allowed to bring stuffed animals to school unless we saved up enough gold slips to have that as a reward for a day

I regularly disregarded this rule and kept a stuffed animal in my backpack without my teachers knowledge

But there were a couple instances where I got ratted out or one occasion in second grade where I'd let my stuffed dog have its head poking out of my backpack and because its head weighed more than its body it fell out and another kid grabbed it and I was sobbing and had to tell my teacher about it

And I got scolded for it every time

HOWEVER

Not only do I think that rule is just fucking stupid

But as I was thinking about it

Having a stuffed animal in my backpack was like 90% of the reason I didn't just try to fuckin bounce at recess some days

Like I may not have technically lived within walking distance but I still KNEW how to get home from my school. Go down Princeton til you get to the big 4 way intersection. Turn left. Go straight til you get to the gas station. Turn right. Walk past the gas station. Turn right again then BOOM theres my apartment.

So there were days when I strongly considered just making a run for it at recess. Realistically I probably wouldn't have made it very far before they caught me. But my fear of getting in trouble might not have been enough to stop me from trying if I hadn't had a stuffed animal in my backpack that I would be leaving behind if I left then. And that was a distressing enough thought that I never actually tried it.

[anghraine]

pro patria, chapters 50-56

For all my lifelong pride, the Althea of a year ago could never have imagined this—me, a hero of Kryta recognized on sight, walking into the throne room in answer to a personal summons from the queen. Gods, where would I be in another year? What would I be?

title: pro patria (50-56/?) stuff that happens: Althea's dissatisfaction with her normal life is quickly interrupted by a summons from Queen Jennah.

verse: Ascalonian grudgefic characters/relationships: Althea Fairchild, Logan Thackeray, Countess Anise, Queen Jennah; Ailoda Langmar, Crusader Hiroki, Agent Ihan, Scholar Josir, various residents of Garrenhoff; Althea & Queen Jennah, Althea & Logan, Althea & Anise, Althea and Ailoda chapters: 1-7, 8-14, 15-21, 22-28, 29-35, 36-42, 43-49

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FIFTY 1 I wasn’t happy. I’d rarely thought about whether I was happy or not—which probably meant I had been, most of the time. But exploring Kessex Hills, while it tickled my curiosity at points, didn’t satisfy me the way that exploring Queensdale had. I helped people everywhere I could, I poked around the nooks and crannies and dutifully added them to my map and notes, I even fought centaurs with the Seraph, but it didn’t … I couldn’t say why it seemed so different. I only felt myself again when I saw Deborah, or got (long-delayed) notes from my friends and family, or defended Fort Salma. Something wasn’t right with this place. Or something wasn’t right with me. 2 It helped, a little, to recall that the maps would go to the Seraph as well as to the Explorers Society. The latter was a hobby that might or might not prove productive, but the former would help my people, in a more lasting way than a battle for this camp or that. Not that the battles didn’t matter, the lives of the Seraph I met, but I’d grown used to—well, to plots and treason and investigations, to helping everyone. Maybe the problem was that so few civilians lived out here. Back in Queensdale, I’d protected monasteries, mills, entire towns of people. Here, I found little but camps and Lionguard havens, the former transitory and the latter prepared to look after themselves. Little, at least, until I stumbled across a village in the southeast of the hills called Garrenhoff. 3 Garrenhoff was by no means the most dangerous place I’d seen in Kessex Hills. That honour went to Viathan Lake and its godsdamned krait, beating out even the worst of the centaur camps I’d helped the Seraph decimate—and the centaurs back in Queensdale were nothing to those here. But Garrenhoff, a village with no attackers and apparently no violence, unsettled me just about as much as the Blood Witch. By all accounts, Garrenhoff owed its security to Isgarren, a wizard who lived in a nearby castle that hardly anyone else seemed to have ever entered. He had set elementals to defend the village and to perform any labour demanded by the villagers. “He has a kind, gracious heart,” one woman informed me, “and he cares for and loves the people of this town.” Enough to supply them with slaves, apparently. 4 “It’s like something out of a children’s story,” another woman said, “with the kindly wizard watching over the sleepy little village and sending his magical minions to help out with day-to-day chores.” Right. A random man talked of the town’s debt to their unknown and virtually unseen patron. The nominal town guard assured me that the elementals kept everyone safe, and his job was to stand around doing nothing in particular. Sailors casually said their job was to sit back and let the elementals take care of everything. The mayor cheerfully greeted me and said I could have nothing to fear or want in Garrenhoff. My skin crawled. 5 It was a relief to hear occasional murmurs of discontent. A woman confided that she felt uneasy around the elementals, as if they were angry; a girl snapped about her annoyance with the tourists; an older lady talked of the days when people did their work with their own hands. The last, however, turned out to be envious of the scarce villagers who got invited up to the castle and spent out the rest of their lives there. As if this place weren’t creepy enough. “Do you ever get to see the villagers who moved there?” I asked. “No, but that’s not surprising—a place as elegant as that … I’m sure they’re just wrapped up in their new lives,” she said wistfully. All right, it just got even worse. 6 I seriously contemplated going back to see how the Falcons were doing and leaving Garrenhoff to a large dot on my map. But I’d never turned back from anything, least of all a peaceable village—and one with a good vista of the landscape around it. I reluctantly started climbing the stone steps leading up to the vista. A sweet-faced boy ran up to me and tugged at my skirt. “What is it?” I asked. “You smell like money,” he said. “You’re rich, aren’t you?” 7 Lyssa’s tears, even the children were disturbing. I made it to the vista without further disturbance; it did, indeed, make for a lovely view, and I quickly sketched in a few more details on my map. But I’d only just returned to the main square of town when I saw an unevenly-written sign on the wall opposite me. Already suspicious, I walked over to see what it said. Get mesmers out of our government! How can we trust mind-shapers to argue fairly for the people? I grabbed the poster and tore it off the wall.

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1) godsdamned krait: a particularly irritating species of snake-lizard-merfolk who attack and enslave people of other species wherever possible.

2) the Blood Witch: the krait's champion.

3) get mesmers out of our government: Queen Jennah is a mesmer as well as Countess Anise.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- FIFTY-ONE 1 Not quite satisfied with that, I ripped the poster down the middle, crumpled up both halves, and shoved them into my bag for evidence. When a few scraps of parchment fluttered down from my hands, I ground them into the mud. Beside me, flowers trailed down the stone wall, their innocuous beauty only further aggravating me. I wasn’t angry for my own sake—or at least not only for my own sake; it wasn’t talking about me, but about people like Anise, maybe Jennah herself. Probably Jennah herself. I’d seen far more seditious activity throughout Kessex Hills, but somehow, this was the thing that got to me. Maybe I did need to go home. 2 Towards the front of the town, I heard someone shouting. I turned my attention to the clamour and hurried over, just in time to see the gates open, and a trio of Seraph walk through. Ignoring the curious gazes of the villagers and tourists, they stalked over to the mayor, their voices now decorously inaudible. He glanced around, then pointed directly at me. Something like hope sprang up in my chest, though I couldn’t have said what I hoped for. The Seraph strode over to me, and the leader bowed. “You’re the hero of Shaemoor?” she asked. 3 For once, I was glad to hear it. “Yes,” I said. “I’m Althea Fairchild.” She nodded indifferently, and held out a sealed letter. “I have an urgent message for you.” Not everyone got messages hand-delivered by Seraph—or perhaps I should say, not every occasion required it. Curious, I looked it over; unless I was very much mistaken, that was the seal of the Shining Blade. 4 Anise! How strange—I’d received updates from my mother, my friends, Logan now and then, but Anise was not exactly a devoted correspondent. I tore open the seal, and took in the unexpectedly stark scrawl. Hero of Shaemoor, By the Will and Command of Queen Jennah of Kryta, you are hereby formally summoned to attend the royal presence. Make all haste to her throne room in Divinity’s Reach, and you will be welcomed there. Until next we meet, may the Six Gods watch over you in all things. —Countess Anise 5 What? I’d expected that my summons, whenever it arrived, would come from my mother or Logan. But even if I’d imagined one from Anise, I never would have anticipated that it would come in such a form. This was no request from a mentor and ally, something I might ignore or deny, even if I never actually would; it was a royal demand. I re-read it several more times, trying to understand. It seemed almost a punishment for my restlessness. What in Dwayna’s name had happened? 6 I left Garrenhoff without regret, and led the Seraph north to Darkwood Defile, thankfully without significant incident. I could handle it, and the Seraph seemed impressed by what small encounters we did have, but Anise’s note had not given me the impression of an indefinite timeline. I needed to get to Divinity’s Reach, and I needed to get there now . We found the waypoint, darted through, and emerged out into the city. The Seraph took their leave, marching to their headquarters. I—well, I took one deep breath, then strode towards the palace with as much speed and dignity as I could. The guards at the door let me in without a word. 7 For all my lifelong pride, the Althea of a year ago could never have imagined this—me, a hero of Kryta recognized on sight, walking into the throne room in answer to a personal summons from the queen. Gods, where would I be in another year? What would I be? In the throne room, I found Queen Jennah in quiet consultation with Logan, Anise looking deceptively disinterested, and her Shining Blade on guard. Logan glanced up as I approached, his expression as relieved as Queen Jennah's was neutral. “Your Majesty—Captain Thackeray,” I said. “I was summoned?”

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1) the Shining Blade: the personal protectors of the monarch of Kryta, currently led by Countess Anise.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- FIFTY-TWO 1 Logan clasped my hand as lightly as his gauntlets allowed. “Indeed, and I’m glad you’re here, my friend.” I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Kryta,” he went on, “needs you once more.” By this point, I’d assumed as much. Who could have guessed that a single heroic impulse at Shaemoor would lead to Logan Thackeray and Queen Jennah turning to me in times of trouble? Certainly not me. 2 “You know I’ll do anything I can to help,” I said sincerely, and glanced between Logan and the queen. “What’s the problem, captain?” He quickly explained that they had reports that Risen, the undead servants of Zhaitan, had been seen in a swamp in the south of the country. My skin chilled. “Risen?” I exclaimed. “The dragon’s minions? If they’re in the swamp, anyone who goes in there would be in great danger!” 3 “Precisely,” Queen Jennah said, and my attention darted to her. “The three Orders of Tyria are pushing to be involved, but can’t agree on a plan.” Her mouth tightened. “While they bicker, my people are at risk.” I nodded, scarcely happier about it than herself, even though I had only the vaguest idea what the orders even were. Not what they ought to be, evidently. “Hero,” said the queen, “I have summoned you to act as Advocate of the Crown.” 4 My jaw dropped. To act as what? “I want you to meet with the orders and take charge of the situation,” she told me, stunning me even further. Logan gave a brisk nod. “You‘ll be dealing with the Vigil, the Durmand Priory, and the Order of Whispers,” he said. “All three specialize in fighting Zhaitan and its minions. However, they all use different methods.” 5 Right. Fine. This was fine. “It'll be your job to decide which plan is best,” he said, without the slightest hint of reservation, “and then act on it.” And I’d been sulking about having nothing weighty to do! “You will have the full authority of the crown to handle this situation,” said the queen, and I swallowed. “Will you accept this task, Lady Althea?” 6 I could hardly say no, but I felt a rush of determination mingling in with my astonishment. “Your Majesty, I will,” I said, bowing. I added earnestly, “I’m honoured to serve Kryta and my queen.” Queen Jennah smiled at me, still regal, but almost friendly, and I felt as if I must have flushed a dozen shades. “Thank you,” she said—the queen, thanking me for obeying her wishes! “Go, and meet with the Order Representatives as soon as possible. I look forward to your report.” 7 I accepted the dismissal for what it was, bowed, and turned to go. Rather to my relief, Logan caught up with me after a few steps. “Thanks for taking on this problem, friend,” he told me. When I halted, he looked down at me, his eyes very clear. “I know you’ll do what’s best for Kryta.” From him, no praise could be higher. “I won’t disappoint you,” I said.

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1) Zhaitan: one of the giant Elder Dragons wreaking havoc throughout the world—in its case, via legions of undead minions.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- FIFTY-THREE 1 “Can you tell me what you know about the Orders of Tyria?” I asked. “Absolutely,” said Logan. He began with the Vigil, a worldwide volunteer militia started by a Charr forced to kill her entire warband. I hesitated, then forced myself to say, “She may be a Charr, but I can empathize.” Logan gave an approving nod. “Almorra swore to defeat the dragons.” 2 Next, he described the Durmand Priory, an equally far-flung collection of scholars and relic-hunters with the world’s most extensive library. I’d always been a bit bookish, but I didn’t quite see how scholarship could stand against eldritch dragons. “Don’t let their demeanour fool you,” said Logan; thankfully, however, he didn’t look as if he thought me foolish. “These are tough, shrewd people with a mission to discover the dragons’ origins, purpose, and weaknesses.” Oh, that made a certain sense. I told him as much, and he smiled slightly. “Tell me about the Order of Whispers,” I said. 3 He grew instantly solemn. “The Order of Whispers move in shadows and deal in secrets. Their network of covert agents uses thievery, blackmail, and assassination to achieve their goals.” I could feel my eyes widen. I understood a certain amount of maneuvering and calculation; I did that myself. That much, though— “Are they reliable?” I asked. 4 Logan fidgeted, looking a bit shifty himself—as shifty as he could look, anyway. “They seem to be,” he said, his tone studiously neutral. “Luckily for us, the Order recognizes the threat posed by Zhaitan and the others. I can’t say I trust them, but I respect them.” Ah. Well, they sounded like valuable allies, if in a highly questionable way—perhaps more valuable than a Charr’s brand of unsubtle onslaught or a collection of scholars, tough or not. We’d see. 5 “I think I have everything I need to get started,” I decided. “I’ll let you know how it goes.” “I expected nothing else,” said Logan. He patted my shoulder another time, then turned and swiftly headed back to the queen. Anise drifted over to me, her expression as earnest as I’d ever seen it. She met my eyes directly. “I’m glad you’re here—Advocate.” 6 “It’s imperative that you discover what’s happening in Lychcroft Mere,” she went on. “Lives depend on it.” Despite her solemnity, there was no anxiety in her face. I eyed her a little suspiciously: I felt certain that she had her fingers in more pies than I could possibly know about. “Was it your influence that convinced the queen to name me Advocate?” I asked. Anise’s old ambiguous smile touched her mouth. “I simply ensured that Queen Jennah knew you were loyal and capable.” 7 Even Anise trusted me with this. Particularly Anise, even, if she’d been the one to sway the queen. Anise, my own master, and Master Exemplar of the Shining Blade. The airy chamber felt suffocating, but I straightened up. I’d prove her right—all of them, Anise and Logan and Queen Jennah, or die trying. And I had no intention of dying. “I’m glad you think so highly of me, countess,” I said. FIFTY-FOUR 1 Now I knew what the orders themselves were, but I didn’t mean to walk into this thing without knowing who I was dealing with. “What can you tell me about the people representing the three Orders of Tyria?” “Quite a bit,” said Anise, her easy confidence unflagging. “Which draws your interest, pet?” Pet, indeed. But she’d called me that since I was a child. I felt certain that I could rule the world and she still would. 2 Regardless, her answers came immediately and concisely. The Durmand Priory had sent a man called Josir, an eccentric scholar and explorer; the Order of Whispers, dating back to ancient Elona, had sent one named Ihan; and the Vigil had sent a woman, Hiroki. “She was once a member of the Ebon Vanguard, and continues to be a stalwart ally to Kryta,” said Anise. The Ebon Vanguard! My interest immediately sparked; I’d been rather inclined against the Vigil, partly for its origins and partly for its means. But if a Charr-led militia—however pitiable that Charr—could attract an Ascalonian out of Ebonhawke, out of Ascalon, that was a different matter. “Thank you,” I told her, and shook her hand; Anise just laughed and headed over to Logan. 3 Determined to help and curious about the means by which I would do so, I bowed to the queen and turned to go. “Lady Althea,” she said, clear command in her voice. I turned back. “Logan and the Countess Anise speak highly of you,” she told me, and I tried not to wonder how those conversations had gone. “I am confident that you will protect the people of Lychcroft Mere.” I—she—they— Despite my best intentions, I froze in place, my thoughts spinning faster than I could catch them. 4 A life spent in public saved me. I gathered up my shreds of composure and said, “Thank you, your Majesty. Can you tell me anything else about the area?” I hadn’t imagined myself questioning her when all this started. “You’ll be meeting with the Orders south of Viathan Lake.” I nodded. “Your Majesty, what can you tell me about the Orders?” 5 I was, first and foremost, an Ascalonian and a Krytan; the former guided me, the latter compelled me. I would follow my queen, all the more as her representative. Queen Jennah’s brows rose a little. “So long as they stay out of politics,” she said, “I allow them to operate in Kryta.” That seemed prudent. She proceeded to explain the Orders in her own terms: the Vigil were militants who offered charity and protection to the people of Tyria, the Priory saved Lion Arch’s libraries and were particularly focused on studying the dragons, and the Order of Whispers were covert agents working to help Tyria. “I may not trust them,” she said of the last, “but I recognize their contributions.” 6 I wouldn’t trust them, either—particularly as they seemed the most likely to meddle in politics. Honestly, I was curious about what sort of contributions could have earned the respect, however grudging, of these three people. For now, however, I had more pressing matters than curiosity. I summoned up my nerve, lowered my voice, and said, “During all my years among your noble court, I’ve never been so honoured as at this moment. Thank you, your Majesty.” Queen Jennah smiled. “I am pleased to see you take on the duties of your high birth, Advocate.” 7 Her entire manner suffused with approval, she added, “You will do the nobility proud.” Gods, I hoped so. No, I would, no matter what happened. One way or another, I’d be a credit to my family, my rank, my people. I forced myself to breathe steadily. “I will do my best, your Majesty,” I told her, and drew the sign of the Six. “May Dwayna watch over us all.”

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1) I am pleased to see you take on the duties of your high birth, Advocate: Jennah’s response is dictated by the class origin you chose in character creation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- FIFTY-FIVE 1 I hurried home to pack for this newest journey, where my mother found me. She didn’t protest the way she had with Debs, just looked resigned. “Where now?” she asked. I almost glanced away, but I refused to be ashamed. “Lychcroft Mere.” Mother’s brows rose. “It doesn’t seem like your kind of place, dear.” 2 It wasn’t. “There are people in danger,” I said, folding some leggings and shoving them into a bag. I didn’t mean to get bitten by whatever ungodly insects infected the swamp. “I’m not sure I can say why.” “Ah,” she said. “Then you’d better hurry.” I eyed her doubtfully. 3 “You should,” said Mother, her voice stronger. She paused, her posture stiff, then reached out and patted my arm. “It’s good, what you’re doing, and noble. You’re a credit to me—you and Deborah both.” She looked like she might cry. I had no real idea of what to do; I never did in these moments, and while it rarely swayed my decisions, I hated seeing her upset. “Thank you, Mama,” I said, and kissed her cheek. 4 That seemed adequate; she blinked very rapidly, then helped me finish packing my bag and led me to the door herself. “I wish I could do more,” Mother said, but immediately afterwards shook her head. “Never mind that. Just—be careful.” “I will,” I told her, hoping it would be true. She grasped my shoulder and pressed her lips to my forehead. “Go with the Six, Althea.” 5 With that, she whirled about and strode back into the house, before I could even tell her goodbye. I inhaled, accepting that for what it was, then walked into the waypoint and out into Ireko Tradecamp—not Lychcroft Mere, not yet. I truly didn’t know what I was allowed to tell people. A child ran up to me as soon as I strode out of the waypoint. Remembering the boy at Garrenhoff, I looked at him suspiciously. “Wanna see my magic trick?” he said. “Think of a number from one to ten, and I’ll use my magical powers to guess what it is.” 6 I relaxed, but shook my head. I had higher priorities right now. At the tents, I found sylvari and Asura merchants, deep in conversation with assorted villagers and other humans. None seemed anything like representatives of dragon-fighting orders. I reached the rear of the village, neither seeing nor hearing anything promising, until a woman’s voice cut through low murmurs. “Really, Ihan, just because—” Ihan—he was one of the Order representatives. 7 The woman, I realized, must be the Ebon Vanguard soldier turned Vigil member; I looked around, then ducked into the shelter that seemed closest to where I’d heard her voice. Three humans stood there—a robed scholar with disconcertingly bright eyes, a black-haired man in red and gold, and a pretty woman with dark hair, blue eyes, and heavy armour. I’d evidently caught them in an argument; they stopped mid-gesture when they saw me. “Finally!” said the scholar. “Thank Dwayna, you’re here. I am Scholar Josir of the Durmand Priory—we’ve been expecting you.” “You’re here to make decisions,” the other man said firmly, reaching out to shake my hand, “and that’s exactly what we need.” FIFTY-SIX 1 “For once,” said the woman, “Ihan’s right about something. I’m Hiroki, a crusader with the Vigil.” I nodded at them. “Good to meet you. I’m Althea Fairchild, Advocate of the Crown.” Somehow, I managed to pronounce the sentence smoothly; hearing the words from my own mouth felt even more overwhelming than hearing them from Queen Jennah. Hiroki said, “The Risen forces are active in Lychcroft Mere.” 2 I took a deep breath, and set my own anxieties aside. This was more important than anything I might feel. Gods, undead in Kryta! “There are missing villagers,” she went on, “mostly children. We’ve got to get soldiers in there! The Vigil has a squad standing by. They’re ready to sweep the area on your signal, Advocate—just give the word.” 3 I almost agreed on the spot, but to be fair, I waited for the others. Josir immediately took the lead, telling me about a Priory invention that could help the children in some as-yet-undisclosed way. “Your device is theoretical!” exclaimed Hiroki, wheeling around to glare at him. “Untested! You want to risk children on that?” She clenched her armoured fist exactly like Logan so often did. “Vigil steel is tried and true.” 4 Josir had pointed out that the Priory’s invention—something called Mortus Virge—could preserve manpower, which I granted as a priority, but I was not at all sure about an untested device that would do something vague that might save the children. Still, rushing into a swamp without any defense but the clothes on our backs didn’t exactly appeal, either. But something must be done, and done soon. I turned to Ihan, hoping for some miraculous third option. “I’m with the Order of Whispers,” he said. “We brought this to the queen’s attention, but we’ll leave the frontline fighting to the others.” Wonderful. 5 Avoiding direct warfare was understandable for an order of spies, but no less disappointing for that. “Very well,” I said. “Hiroki, Josir—give me a moment to think this over, and then I’ll decide.” They murmured agreement, and I pulled a little away, determinedly not tugging at my hair. Every moment wasted was another moment of danger for the children in that swamp, but I had to think, had to make the best decision for them and for Kryta. I glanced at Ihan again. The Order of Whispers had to be used to making difficult calls, choosing the effective over the satisfying, deciding what risks to take—maybe he’d have something to say. 6 “It’s not that my organization doesn’t support you,” he said, almost apologetically. “We just like to have more information before we act. Until then, best of luck.” How incredibly helpful. “I hate to rush you, Miss Fairchild,” said Hiroki—I winced—”but it’s time to decide. We need to find those children.” I hesitated another moment, but there was really only one decision to make. 7 “I’ve decided to go with the Vigil’s plan,” I said, praying it was the right choice. “Now we’re getting somewhere!” said Hiroki, grinning at Josir’s sigh. “My squad and I will wait for you outside Lychcroft Mere. We’ll find those kids—and crush some Risen along the way!” She might have been talking about an afternoon tea-party. “You Vigil types don’t stand still for long, do you?” I asked, a little amused despite myself; she reminded me of Deborah. “I like that.”