Citadel Walls

In the early afternoon, as the sun is approaching its highest point, Madame Naoki completes her accent, and steps out onto the upper walls of The Citadel. Artemis follows only a step behind,

As they notice their unexpected visitor, the archers snap to attention, and attempt to pretend that they were paying attention before she arrived. Keeping watch, or whatever it is they’re meant to be doing up on the walls. However, a dismissive hand gesture informs them- she’s not here to inspect anything or receive salutes. That’s what Ryden is for, she supposes. No, the purpose of her visit here is personal.

Hands held behind her back, Naoki moves past the row of uneasy guards, and begins to meander along the fortifications. For as warm and high-ceilinged as her new office is, it’s not quite the best environment for deep thinking. Or, at least, a change of scenery is sometimes beneficial, she supposes, internally justifying her escape.

Having wandered a short way from the staircase, Naoki comes upon an open crenelle, and leans down into it, considering the city laid out before her. For a short while, she simply stands. Standing. Considering. Thinking.

It isn’t as if she didn’t expect these sorts of thoughts. Related to responsibility and leadership and all that. Those are the sorts of things that are healthy to think about and consider rationally. It was the objective self-doubt that she wasn’t expecting.

Because, how is one supposed to justify Naoki as head of state? She has a bit more than ten years worth of life experience to draw on. That archer standing over near the stairs has double that, and then some! Wisdom comes with time. There is only so much one can absorb from books. Only raw knowledge, and that alone doesn’t qualify an individual to make educated decisions. Well. Educated decisions, perhaps, but not necessarily wise decisions.

All Naoki seems to be capable of is flying things by the seat of her metaphorical pants. Putting some marginal level of rational thought into how decisions will play out, and simply choosing the one that will most likely result in a state she is satisfied with. As of yet, there haven’t been any additional, unforeseen circumstances that have thrown off this process. And as such, things have worked out so far. But as soon as something comes up. Some strange complication that throws one of these plans off kilter… Naoki shudders. A major misstep at this level would mean death. Perhaps not hers, but death all the same.

Perhaps the portion that she finds most disturbing is that she would be prepared to accept responsibility for such a thing.

Regardless, Naoki’s introspection is interrupted; her earring glimmers in the sunlight as she receives a message. It seems as if someone calling themselves Emahra Untyrid is at the gate, looking to meet with her. Assuming no trickery is afoot, that should be the strange elven woman from the previous night. Hm.

Well. A bit of distraction never hurt anyone, Naoki supposes. That, and it should be interesting to obtain an understanding of the circumstances that apparently delivered the elf into Isra from some far off land. Perhaps she could be put to use, too. Naoki sends the order for Emahra to be sent up to the portion of the wall where she stands. It would probably be more proper to go down and meet with her in the office, or any of the many location around The Citadel that are actually intended for meeting in, but… whatever.

As Emahra approaches, Naoki rises from her leaning position in the crenelations, raising a hand in greeting, nodding for her to proceed with what she has to say, and giving Emahra the entirety of her attention as she speaks her bit.

The news that Emahra hails from an entirely separate plane of existence is… quite an interesting tidbit of information indeed. Naoki has presumed that there was only long distance transportation involved, not inter-planar movement. To think that this elf, standing here speaking with her, was created and has spent the majority of her life in an entirely separate world… It’s somewhat off putting. Somewhat scary, and humbling. Not only that, but she is living proof that other planes of existence exist, and travel is possible between them.

The notion also spawns several sub-thoughts. For example, Naoki is able to understand Emahra with no difficulty. She has a touch of an accent, perhaps, but it would seem as if the spoken language is the same. As is etiquette. The concept of monarchy, being a heir, swords… The apparent similarities are present in each word. Are such concepts truly universal? Or are the circumstances that lead to their establishment in each respective plane simply that similar? The whole concept is worth deeper thought and further discussion at a later date, Naoki resolves.

Regardless, here is yet another apparently incredibly talented individual come to offer their services. To be completely honest with herself, the frequency with which this happens to her is somewhat suspect to Naoki. There are presumably plenty of other individuals who would be able to make use of all of these people, and yet the seeming majority seek her out specifically. Perhaps there are greater forces at play, mandating this trend.

Again regardless, here is yet another. After Emahra finishes speaking, Madame Naoki nods, and gives voice to her response.

“Well, Ms. Untyrid, know that you have my condolences, but I won’t force you to dwell on the topic. Instead, allow me to say that I will continue to do what is reasonably within my power to help you adjust, and will gratefully accept your services. If you are even half as capable as you seem to me, you will doubtless be of immense assistance- far more than I can offer to you.”

“I should mention at this point a tidbit I may not have stated plainly or you may have forgotten since our last meeting. I was elected to this position only last week. I am still in the process of becoming acclimated myself, and am currently instigating a number of reforms to Isra’s government. There’s no particular action required on your part with this information, but it was worth mentioning, I think, if only to explain why you’ll probably end up in an unusually high station relative to how much time you’ve spent in Isra.”

“With that said, however, I must inquire. What manner of skills do you possess that you would like to offer or obtain a job in practicing? You’ve already proven yourself as something of a diplomat, and I would be inclined to believe that your weapon isn’t merely for show. Beyond your silver tongue and swordsmanship, is there anything else I should be aware of, or do you have any preferences for the sort of work you’d like to undertake?”

As Emahra finishes with her second bit, Madame Naoki simply looks on and nods slowly. After a pause, she responds, “You really do have a way with words.”

“I’ll send for someone… probably some minister with nothing better to do. They’ll show you around and assist you in getting acclimated to Isra. I‘ll see to it that you’re provided for, lodgings and such. And then, let’s meet again in a week or so. By then I should have some idea about what sorts of specific tasks I’d like you to tackle and we can get you assigned to some… position or something. I’m sure I’ll find there are a few, and one of them will suit you.”

With that said, Madame Naoki nods once again, with an air of finality. Another task put off for another day. Eventually, she supposes, her ability to schedule things for later is going to outpace how many hours there are in the days ahead. Not today, though. Still plenty of time of time for unnecessary introspection. She stands from her leaning position on the wall, and approaches Emhara, extending a hand, presumably for shaking.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance more fully, Ms. Emahra. You seem to be handling things exceptionally well, considering your circumstances, and if you need something I can provide, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll look forward to having your assistance in the days ahead, and suspect that this may be the beginning of a long-lasting and mutually prosperous relationship.”

Now there’s a woman who is qualified to be in my shoes, Naoki thinks to herself as Emahra departs. Those elves, what with their relatively lengthy lifespans, high society, and educations. Though Naoki is no expert judge of age, she figures Emahra must be at least fifty. Absolute minimum, judging by the cleavage. Fifty years that involved probably not only high education, not only education tailored to statecraft, but also probably strong parental figures and suitable idols to attempt to emulate. Dead now, perhaps, victim of whatever war deposed Emahra to this place, but all the same.

Watching that mop of blue hair fade down the stairwell, Naoki can’t help but consider it with a touch of the greenest envy. This is a new flavor of envy, she supposes, but not an entirely new sort. As opposed to envy for those who have it better as far as lifestyle goes, this is envy for those who know what they’re doing. Who think they know what they’re doing, at least. Emahra, judging their conversation, has a very neatly defined set of morals that make decisions quite easy.

“That is my only true wish: To do good for the people.”

How incredibly specious, Naoki muses. But how incredibly simple that thought must be to apply. ‘Does this decision do good for the people? If yes, do. If no, do not do.’ How linear. How easy. The only difficulties would come in where the situation becomes gray and muddled. But at that point, Naoki’s decision making process is already on its sixth iteration and is referencing the most basic of philosophical ideals to justify itself. Emahra’s way is very much worth her envy, Naoki thinks. It would probably serve her well as a head of state, too. None of this internal conflict nonsense.

A deep, rolling sigh is lost to the wind as Naoki turns back to the crenelations and opts to spend a while longer in aimless thought before getting back to thoughts that will have lasting repercussions on thousands of her citizens.

Strange to think of them as ‘her citizens’ she muses. Well. Perhaps not strange. It’s not a very strange concept, to be fair. Just a new one. Part of the acclimation process, she supposes.

Rudiger Dornmauer is treated to a view as The Empress leads him up a winding spiral staircase, and another view when they reach the top. The staircase lets out onto one of The Citadel’s highest walls, looking out over The Central Plaza and south side of the city.

A weatherbeaten table and a pair of chairs are set up not far from the staircase, where the watchmen sit to play cards. The Empress coopts one chair and directs Rudiger to the other. Their positioning relative to the crenelations allows those seated on either side to see out but protects the playing surface from the wind.

One of The Imperial Sentinels who accompanied them up the staircase remains near the door; the other takes a position behind The Empress.

“I probably should have asked earlier, but I hope you’re comfortable with heights.”

_{“Snakes are a good thing to be afraid of,”} The Empress mumbles, looking out over the city. Things seem quiet today, though they usually do from this height. So far removed from the hustle and bustle, the sounds of the city blend into a drone on the wind.

After a moment spent looking, The Empress turns back to the table and plants her palm down on it, locking eyes with Rudiger.

“Alright. Sit.” She gestures again for Rudiger to sit.

“Before we get very far with this, let me ask this. This seems like an easy question, but I’m going to ask anyway. Partially for me, so that I’ll know that I asked, and partially to give you something to regret later in life.” She flashes a smirk.

“Do you want to go any further with this? … You've been rushed into this. You’re not prepared at all. You have no obligation to those two, no obligation to Votura, no obligation to me. If you accept this responsibility, it’s going to be tough to put down. Ruling isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s stressful; it weighs on you — believe me when I say it.”

“If you aren’t absolutely certain you want to, you don’t need to become the Duke. It would be very easy for me to find you entirely unsuitable and send you on your way. To stage something and send them home as well. I can find someone else to run Vortua.”

The Empress nods. She wasn’t expecting any other answer. This is the sort of decision he’s going to regret either way, but she wanted to offer him the option, and now it has been offered.

“Very well. Now, swear loyalty to me.”

The Empress nods solemnly. She isn’t sure if he expects her to give him her hand or something, but she doesn’t.

“Excellent. From here forward, you are beholden to my will and mine alone. — Sit back down.”

After waiting for Rudiger to reseat himself, she continues, “As a new Duke, as a novice, as someone that they sought out, House Gediminas and House Vyatautas will expect to have some level of power over you — That’s likely why they sought you out in the first place, to have power over you as opposed to the current situation with my governor. — They will attempt to push you around, to impose the old traditions on you. They will ask favors of you, and expect you to cater to their will, because in the past, Dukes have been reliant on the influential families for their power.”

“This is no longer so. You will be the first Duke of Vortua backed by Imperial Law. Your power will stem not from the implied consent and cooperation of Vortua’s population, but from my word.” The Empress begins speaking with her hands, punctuating the last sentence with two very deliberate taps on the table.

“It will likely often be in your interest to cooperate with the big Houses, but remember that they have no power over you. To go against your will is to go against mine, and you may need to remind them of that. Remember that it’s not very far from here to Vortua as the griffin flies, and Isra will intervene on your behalf to maintain order.”

She pauses to assess how Rudiger is taking this.

“I think you’ll do well as The Duke,” The Empress says. “And I mean that.”

“If it’s alright with you, let’s skip the part where I threaten you. I’m putting you on this throne; I can take you off, and so on and so forth.” The Empress dismisses this line of thinking with a waving of her hands. She wouldn’t be telling Rudiger anything he doesn’t already suspect.

“Why don’t you ask me a question,” she prompts. “You probably have a few.”