"Lieutenant General Sherman, the defense contract has been signed by Folen Elstina and Princess Assiaya.

  The Elistina workshop will begin ramping up production for the Militia and city defense. One of the main issues the Salva Militia has been resupplying and reequipping. We have enough bodies of men to train but not enough weapons and armor for them.

  When this mess started, most of the Militia were shop owners, farmers, molders, traders, etc. Very few had experience before this war, making coordination between our people and theirs a struggle. The Minutemen have been training a few to bridge the gap between professionalism and citizen soldiers, but with constant attacks, the city ammunition has come close to depletion.

  Lord Folen Elstina, who has been a critical ally and spokesman supporting our presence, had successfully restarted his armory workshop. Last week, he offered that if we were able to supply funds, he could fix these logistical issues. These funds will secure a line of flechette for the militia with armor sets. I hope to expand this operation soon to build ballistas domestically. I want these heavy weapons on all of Salva's walls and in the Fort we are constructing. In addition, they have expressed interest in adapting his workshop to produce our ammunition, especially 6.8mm and .50. calibers, which I do endorse. Local support for basic supplies would be ideal to prioritize vital resources with the Bridge.

  This contract is only an infusion; I know you have expressed interest in expanding R&D, which at this point will require additional funds and resources. I have attached documents listing proposals for future funds to expand this industrial base at Salva; most would require us to lift this siege. I know DARPA has been lingering around VII Corps headquarters wanting to explore "magitech", I will warn. Folen has been protective of his innovations (smart devil) so that might become a up hill battle." - Colonel William Hackett, Minutemen

  April 10th, 2068 (Military Calendar)

  Salva, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

  Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Mathew Ryder watched as the Minutemen escorted three stout dwarves into the Council chamber, their heavy boots echoing on the stone floor. He turned to his daughter and saw the nervousness, as this was the first time any official statesmen outside the city had diplomatically come to these chambers.

  "Don't worry," Ryder replied. "You did good. Don't worry."

  "I am just confused about what is going on," Assiaya said. "Why does Vagahm want to come here?"

  "Then let's find out." Ryder turned toward their guests.

  From what the Captain understood, guests were usually introduced, stating their names, stations, and so on, as a show of respect. Because of the secret nature of this encounter, all standard greetings were suspended. Only critical personnel were invited to this meeting to avoid leaks with the public.

  The Vagahm representatives gathered in the center of the room, staring confusedly at the throne. This confused Ryder, as he didn’t know what was happening or what to do.

  Assiaya whispered, "You are supposed to greet them as Duke, Father."

  The Duke heard her soft voice and glanced around. He saw only his daughter staring at him with her blue and gold eyes, waiting for him to act.

  Ryder looked back at the dwarves and said, "I am Captain and Duke Matt, patar families of the House of Ryder. This is my daughter, Princess Assiaya, Head of State of Salva and Daru'uie Confederacy. We welcome you."

  There was a short silence in the room as the dwarves whispered. Suddenly, the Vagahms laughed. One stepped forward and said, "First time, I see."

  "The rumors are true," another dwarf boasted. "The elves and humans installed a fake Altaerrie Lord."

  It took the Captain a moment to figure out what the Vagahm meant, but it became clear. He’d heard similar comments from Horatius and his people that his appointment to Duke, piggybacking on his daughter’s royal status, helped legitimize the Altaerrie presence in this world. He couldn’t decide if it was Aristocracy propaganda or what people naturally believed. Regardless, the Duke felt a hollow ache gnaw at him, knowing others saw him as a fraud.

  "My Father is not—!" Assiaya’s voice rose in protest, but Ryder rested a steady hand on her shoulder, silencing her gently.

  The Comanche Captain pulled a small Bible from his pocket, reciting Proverbs 22:1. "A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold."

  Ryder glanced toward his daughter, seeing a surprised reaction. After listening to Rommel King’s perspective, he’d started focusing on embracing his new duties as a noble of this world, and he thought the Bible was a good place to start.

  The Vagahm dwarf stared at the Comanche Captain and then laughed. "You are very transparent. Good. I see why Lord Elkkur likes you two."

  "I am glad to hear," Ryder replied, his tension easing. "What brings you to Salva? I was under the belief that your people wanted to remain neutral?"

  "And that still stands," Gratom affirmed, nodding slightly. "That is why we had to navigate the way we did to reach here. I am Commander Darnad Gratom, head of Vagahm Engineers. My Lord sent us here to aid you in breaking the siege. Under the condition that our presence remains a secret."

  "Wait," Assiaya asked. "Engineers? Are you soldiers?"

  "Engineers during wartimes, my lady," Gratom replied. "A drunk during the peace."

  There were a couple of chuckles through the chamber before the conversation continued. Colonel Hackett approached, whispering about the effect that dwarf engineers would have on the current siege—that they had their engineers.

  "I want to thank you for coming," Assiaya said. "I am honored."

  "I do want to ask," Ryder said. "What is it that Vagahm thinks to contribute? We appreciate additional engineers for damage control, but we have our units skilled in that profession."

  "I am a dwarf, my Altaerrie Lord," Gratom said. "We know you cannot fly over the Unity lines, and all your assaults have been repelled. That leaves only one option."

  "Underground?" Assiaya asked.

  "That is correct."

  "How?" Hackett asked. "Digging a large enough tunnel deep and far enough to get behind undetected enemy lines would take years."

  "I do not know your world," Gratom said. "But under these lands, there are caverns that we can access from this city."

  Ryder found the proposal unbelievable: digging underground caverns that could allow the US to bypass the enemy blockade. Even if there was merit to the idea and acknowledging that dwarves are a subterranean race, it didn’t answer his mentor’s question. "That does not make sense," he said.

  "It does," Yeldan said. "What Darnad is talking about is the Dradeem River. It is an underground river that flows from the northern sea to the Great Kasin Lake. The city once used the river as a power source, but it has been broken for generations. However, there is no direct path from here to the outside world."

  "Is that normal on Alagore?" Ryder asked.

  "They are," Yeldan said. "Some use it to trade goods, but that is dangerous."

  "Point is," Gratom said. "There are cavern networks that we can exploit."

  "Hold on," Hackett said. "We can access these caverns from the generator? How do you know this?"

  Darnad Gratom laughed before crossing his arms. "We have been here for centuries, remember? We were the ones who built that generator. We have mapped many of these caverns over the ages and know where to link them. There might be some trial and error, but we have maps."

  "How long will this take?" Hackett eagerly asked.

  "The first cavern will take three weeks," Gratom said.

  "That is good," Hackett said. "In Zulu weeks, the first breach is about eleven to twelve days. That could work, but I want to know why you are doing this?"

  Ryder closed his eyes before responding, already knowing the answer. "To protect their investment."

  Assiaya nodded. "In freeing our people, we had to agree to give trade and mining rights if we win the siege."

  "That is correct," Gratom affirmed. "The politics are beyond my station; however, our Lord finds that if your people win this battle, it would be more profitable than the current rulers of these lands."

  "I had a feeling," Ryder said.

  “Darnad,” Hackett said. "Whatever you need, you will get. Speed is the key."

  "Anything?" one of the other dwarves asked.

  Darnad Gratom whispered with his comrades before speaking, "If that’s so, we’ll take unlimited ale while we work—keeps the picks swinging."

  "Drinking on the job?" Ryder asked, eyebrow raised.

  "What’s a dwarf without his brew?" Gratom shot back, his comrades roaring with laughter.

  Mathew Ryder felt a headache emerging. Glancing at his mentor, he could see the same reaction. Looking toward his motuia advisor, a title Yeldan bore with quiet pride, he saw him grumbling about dwarves. It was clear to him that while this could be a game-changer in this siege, it would come with a migraine.

  Seeing that the Minutemen Colonel wanted him to accept the terms, the Captain walked to the Vagahm Engineer and held his hand out. "We will honor the treaty and accept your aid," Ryder said.

  "And thank you for risking your lives to aid us," Assiaya said. "I appreciate it."

  Darnad Gratom nodded. "There is no need to thank you, my lady. We are ready to start today, but I must give you a warning."

  "There’s always a catch," Ryder mumbled. "Let me guess, is it bloodsucker-related or preachy zealots?"

  "Neither this time," Gratom said. "The Horde enjoys lurking under the surface. There is a good chance that we will encounter some."

  Ryder had encountered these Goblins when returning from the Unity Mountain Port. Ivy had engaged the goblins, allowing them safe passage through the orilla tunnel. However, he knew his team had to face them alone when traveling for the first time, and from what he heard, they were a species they wanted to avoid.

  "That is good to know," Ryder replied. "We will provide as much security as needed."

  "I have Minutemen from B Squadron available," Hackett said. "I will assign them to tunnel security."

  "And with that," Gratom said. "Our business has concluded. Now, where is our alcohol?"

  *****

  With a surprisingly quiet night, Natilite could only surmise that the enemy was avoiding any attack because it was the dark night, where this side of Alagore was facing away from their Mother, Tekali.

  The Minutemen were at ease for once, enjoying not getting rained on by enchantment artillery.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The front guard stopped her and requested identification. "I know, Ma’am, but it’s the rules."

  "I understand," Natilite said. She pulled her plastic card out and studied it. The Valkyrie found it fascinating that the Altaerrie had no binding marks for identification purposes but a small card. The black marks formed a bar holding all the necessary information. While small compared to other non-magitech technology examples, it clearly showed how different and similar both worlds were—taking different paths yet developing what they needed.

  After passing through security, the Templar approached the front desk. The place was empty, with only a few staff working. It was after hours, so most were asleep or burning steam at the taverns.

  At the desk wasn’t the regular attendant but a forest green-coated robot with skin. It was not like the IRiSS soldiers, but one that looked feminine. It did not have bulky armor or a thick exoskeleton. The face had a white rubbery ceramic look—enough to look human but not to be confused as accurate.

  "Evening, Templar Natilite," the desk robot said in broken Latin.

  "You too, thank you," Natilite replied. "Is Captain Ryder here?"

  "That correct. Profile states off duty. Is emergency?"

  Finding the robot’s speech frustrating, Natilite attempted to thank the machine but walked away as if she had received the needed information.

  Walking through the main halls, the Templar remembered her first time passing through this place. It was different, with a royal feeling. The throne stood toward the back, with a wide-open area for gatherings. All that was gone, replaced by desk space. The Americans had turned a royal palace into a military headquarters, and she couldn’t blame them.

  Seeing an opening to the next floor above her, she flexed her wings and flew, landing on the concrete floor. Finding Ryder and Assiaya’s room, Natilite knocked but heard nothing.

  Feeling uncertain, Natilite didn’t know what to do next, so she placed her ear against the steel-enforced wooden door and heard nothing inside. At first, she assumed they were asleep; however, there would still be noises.

  Believing she had missed them, the Valkyrie turned around and saw Ceka—a neko who’d entered voluntary indentured servitude at a young age and remained in it through her youth and adulthood, drawn by the economic and shelter security it offered, all while dreaming of one day becoming Head Maid of a noble House, a role she now held under Ryder. Her status was marked by her poised demeanor. Wearing a red and white maid outfit, she was heading toward a stairway while holding a tray of drinks. Natilite leaped over the central opening and hovered toward the Head Maid. "Ceka!" she yelled.

  The Neko stopped, her ears perking in confusion. Glancing around, Natilite landed on the edge, scaring the servant and nearly causing the tray to fall.

  "I am sorry," Natilite said, reaching to stabilize the tray’s bottom.

  Ceka calmed herself with a breath, gripping the tray. "It is okay, Templar."

  Natilite looked at the tray and saw two cups of green herb tea and a bottle of Patriot Eagle beer. "Let me guess, is this for Matt and Assiaya?"

  "That is correct, Templar," Ceka said. "Not in that order, though."

  She couldn’t help but chuckle. "Of course. Please, call me Natilite."

  "I must disagree, Templar. As Head Maid, it is my duty to maintain a form of professionalism, not casualism. Otherwise, the sight would only negatively impact the reputation of your stature."

  The Templar stared at the neko servant and chuckled, noticing how rehearsed the response was. "I see you’ve said that to Matt a lot."\

  Ceka’s ears bent with an exhausted stare. "More than I expected. My Master seems to resist his position as Lord of this city."

  "I’ve noticed," Natilite said. "But I guess it’s better than someone who craves power. Anyway, is he treating you well?"

  "Treating me good, yes," Ceka replied. "As I said, he resists giving me orders. I must be more self-sufficient and predict my Master’s needs—mostly caring for Assiaya when he’s gone."

  "That’s a safe bet. Give it time; Matt will feel comfortable in his new role. Otherwise, Hackett will promote him."

  Ceka tilted her head slightly, a confused look crossing her face. "I do not understand."

  Natilite shrugged and shook her head. "I don’t either. I hear many Americans make that joke, but I guess I don’t get it."

  She then looked at the tray and said, "If you don’t mind, can I take it to them? I wanted to ask Matt how their meeting with the dwarves went."

  "I think the beer explains how it went," Ceka said, handing over the tray. "But you’re welcome to take it."

  The Templar took the tray and smiled. She started to leave but stopped. "Where are they?"

  Ceka smirked. "They’re on the southern pillar."

  "I should’ve guessed," Natilite said.

  The two went their separate ways. The Templar headed toward an open balcony and flew to the top level of the palace. While flat, some pipes collected rainwater, feeding it to the underground section of the city. Large solar leaves provided minimal energy to the palace lights. Though the superstructure was reinforced concrete, wood strips bolted into the walls gave a natural look to the tallest building in the city.

  As she hovered, the Templar heard a noise and glanced toward the left pillar. On top stood a Locally Operated Weapon Station (LOWS), an M2 Browning turret wirelessly linked to an underground station—or switchable to PI-powered for independent operation.

  The turret turned to her, terrifying the Valkyrie. She slowly waved her hand to show friendliness, hoping it wasn’t set to PI operator. A red light blinked three times before the LOWS turned away.

  Feeling relieved, the Valkyrie hovered and continued looking around. She then saw Ryder leaning against sandbags covering a cone pillar, Assiaya beside him, her head resting on his lap. Excited that she’d finally found them, she floated until she was close enough to speak.

  But as she drew closer, she noticed an orange glowing bug zipping around. When it neared, she reached out and caught it, ready to squish it.

  "Hold up," Ryder said.

  "What is it?" Natilite asked.

  "Don’t kill it."

  Natilite stared at the Altaerrie man with confusion. She glanced at the glowing orange bug, then back at him. "It’s a pixie—harbingers of ill fate."

  Ryder paused, tracing a soothing circle on his sleeping daughter’s side. "I get the luck thing with these glowing bugs, good or bad. Still, my gut says let it go."

  "If Tekali frowns on us, I’m blaming you," Natilite teased, letting the pixie flit free. She turned to Ryder.

  "Am I interrupting?"

  Ryder looked over and saw the Templar. "Not at all. Ceka was about to bring drinks."

  "I ran into her," Natilite said. "I brought the tray for her."

  "Oh. Thank you. Have a seat."

  Natilite gently adjusted her wings as she floated over, landing on the roof. She saw the Captain sitting there, his daughter sound asleep with a thick military jacket over her. "I see she’s in deep slumber."

  "Yeah," Ryder said. "It’s been a busy couple of days for her, and then there’s this Vagahm business. So yeah, busy couple of days."

  "And that’s why you come to the top of a cold roof?" Natilite asked. As she spoke, she sat on the ground with the tray, setting the beer and tea before them. Ryder waved off the tea for the sleeping Princess.

  "To get away from everything," Ryder said. "Even in off hours, it feels like we’re still on duty. I figured up here, everyone will leave us alone."

  "So, you came to a roof?"

  Seeing her Captain point to the Cosmic Sea, Natilite looked up and saw the dark sky filled with thousands of stars, unmarred by light reflected from Tekali. Amid the sea of stars, the Epliss Embers glowed, a vast cosmic light piercing the smoky haze cast by the city into the dark void.

  "Do you not have Embers in your skyline?" Natilite asked.

  "Embers?" Ryder echoed, studying the sky. "I get it now. The starlight and gases do look like embers in an old fireplace."

  "What do you mean by starlight?"

  The Altaerrie man began lecturing with great enthusiasm. He explained that the brightness on Earth is the core of the Milky Way Galaxy, their name for the Epliss Embers, and that billions of stars like Dorash lay within it.

  Ryder conveyed this as if it were common knowledge, impressing the Templar, who knew little about it. The only information she’d heard came from religious or astronomer sages during temple duties or adventurer escorts.

  "This might be a silly question," Natilite said. "Have your people been there?"

  "Oh, no," Ryder replied. "Only ours and yours. This is what I was telling Assiaya. I think I went into too much detail as she nodded off."

  "Cute." Natilite sipped her tea, collecting her thoughts. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but other worlds orbit those fathers… or stars?"

  "That’s correct," Ryder said.

  "And how many are there?"

  "I don’t know." Mathew Ryder pulled out his cell phone. "Oracle, how many exoplanets have we discovered?"

  "…, I apologize. I cannot answer your question without being connected to the Internet. Please connect to your local Wi-Fi or your satellite constellation for service."

  "Hmm, bad habits," Ryder said, pocketing the phone. "I don’t know off the top of my head, but if I recall, close to a hundred thousand?"

  "That’s a lot of worlds," Natilite replied.

  Ryder chuckled. "My mistake. That’s what we confirmed with telescopes. We theorize there could be hundreds of billions of worlds in our galaxy."

  The Valkyrie couldn’t help but gaze at the dark night sky, finally grasping why the Altaerrie fixated on the emptiness of space. "Over my years, I’ve listened to sages who research this subject. They’ve theorized other worlds could surround stars, but I never put much thought into it. I figured everything important was in front of me or tied to Tekali."

  "Well, everything comes in stages. As you said, spiritual evolution." Ryder paused as his daughter mumbled, grabbing his arm tighter and snoring lightly. He smiled before continuing, "Now, I assume you didn’t come up here just to talk about the Cosmic Sea."

  "Oh, right," Natilite said. "I came to ask how the meeting with Vagahm went."

  "The meeting itself went fine," Ryder replied. "They came to aid us in secret, planning to dig tunnels under the blockade through caverns."

  "That’s great! You don’t seem happy about it?"

  Ryder took a deep breath and hesitated. Seeing she’d nag him for an answer, he sighed. "I was called a fake lord by Vagahm—one of them laughed right in my face."

  Natilite understood what he meant. It had become a minor topic within the ranks, even in Comanche. She should’ve anticipated it, as the Hispana Palatini had noted the same. "I see."

  "I think I handled it well," Ryder said. "It’s just frustrating that it’s the first thing everyone notices."

  "No one said it’d be easy," Natilite replied. "Does it bother you that people think you’re a fake?"

  "I already had this talk with Rommel. The answer’s no, but it does. If I’m going to do this and make it work."

  The Templar adjusted her seat, leaning against the concrete wall as she tried to read the Captain’s mind. "Well, how did you respond?" she asked.

  Ryder drank his beer. "I’ve been reading the Bible for guidance—our religious text that values character over titles."

  The response surprised the angelic warrior, learning that the Altaerrie also had a holy text. She then giggled, finding the response fitting. "I don’t see the problem. It sounds like you handled it well. Dwarves provoke to test people. They agreed to help us secretly, so you passed."

  She could tell that her response didn’t have the desired effect, seeing Ryder struggle with his new station. It did not initially dawn on her how he might feel about taking on these new responsibilities, primarily because of her lack of knowledge of American political culture. The vast differences between their worlds were pulling at his morality.

  Natilite glanced toward the sky before taking another drink. "You said Bible. I presume that is your people's holy text?"

  "That is one, yes."

  The response puzzled the Templar again. He’d said "one," yet implied many—a plurality that left her wide-eyed with shock. "One? There is more than one? Do you mean those who do not believe in a higher spirituality?"

  Ryder smiled, while shaking his head. "No, my world’s full of many religions—each with its own sacred book, or books. I’m Christian, so I follow the Bible. Jews have the Tanakh, while Islam has the Quran. Then there’s Hinduism with its Vedas and Buddhism with the… sutras. It’s a mess of beliefs sometimes…. Okay, more than sometimes, but that is what it is like on Earth."

  "Fascinating," Natilite replied. "I’ve heard tales of sects rising and falling through the ages. Tekali’s followers split into many denominations—some honor Mother’s children, others the lesser deities. Yet the Unity Katra is the first rival faith I’ve encountered."

  "Interesting. A lot of people on Earth dream of having faith like Alagore does. Of course, their personal one."

  "And your thoughts?"

  "Not my place to judge. It’s between an individual and their faith—I respect theirs if they respect mine. Now, you said you had yours?"

  "Yes," Natilite eagerly said. "Our holy text is called the Maethris Estelara, meaning ‘Mother of the Stars’ in Elvish. Its origins are a mystery. The Astral Emilinya sages claim the Maethris Estelara dates to orilla’s dawn—perhaps even before, lost in Tekali’s first light."

  The Templar then leaned back, holding her cup tightly. She stared at the sleeping Princess, finding it adorable as the girl’s head rested on her father’s lap. "‘The light of one’s soul outshines the shadow of doubt.’ You stood firm despite their mockery, proving your worth through action, not just a title. I’ve leaned on it often in darker times. Trust me, Matt, their respect will come in time. Don’t let doubt drag you into the darkness."

  Ryder tilted his head, intrigued. "I take that is one of your Proverbs?"

  "Yes," Natilite replied. "I do not know if you have stories, but the Maethris Estelara is full of them. My favorite is the ‘Hero of Alopaes.’ It is about a warrior from the time before orilla, the time of Erade, the woman who birthed and nurtured all life on Alagore—the one who made this moon our home. Then, a darkness spread across Alagore, devouring villages and everything Erade created. Tekali feared that her children were defenseless. Mother provided a warrior, Alopaes, who was strong enough to slay all evil back to the abyss. It’s a tale of courage over recognition—like you facing those dwarves. That story holds dear to me."

  There was a short moment of silence before Ryder responded, "I can see why. Is it really that simple though?"

  "Matt," Natilite said, taking a deep breath. She glanced at the sleepy Assiaya in his arms. "Why are you a Captain?"

  Seeing him about to answer, she cut him off. "Because you’re a man, born to lead. To defend your country. Your family. Your children. For gentlemen, it’s their place. Orgatrash says men err when they reject their birthright."

  "You think I’ll go savage?" Ryder asked.

  Natilite shook her head, puzzled by Altaerrie views on gender roles. "My point is, you’re a Captain because you want to lead. You adopted Assiaya, became head of your House, because you want to lead."

  "I wanted to be Captain to influence policy," Ryder countered. "To make a difference—not just kill bad guys, but ensure lasting success. And with her, I couldn’t send her to the sharks alone."

  "My point exactly," Natilite said. "I don’t know how men are seen on Earth, but here, they’re expected to step up and command—military, politics, business, family—everything, with all the responsibility. I think people call you fake because, in your heart, you haven’t embraced your role as a Man. Accept your place, and the rest will fall in line."

  Seeing the new Duke processing her words, she turned to the sky, marveling at its beauty. "There was a time Templars were feared and hated—a shameful past we deserved. Many don’t recall, but it was the J’avais who discovered the genetic augmentation serum," she said.

  The Angelic Warrior then explained the Teivel War, a conflict she’d studied in the Temple’s ancient scrolls—a grim legacy her order still carried. Multiple J’avais City-States had allied, waging war across Aldrida. The Old Coalition united the era’s great powers against this threat, but they struggled against the Teivel’s raw might.

  Decades later, with overwhelming numbers and J’avais internal divisions, the Coalition prevailed. In the aftermath, the continent lay devastated, hordes, barbarians, and evil sweeping unopposed. Only then did the Coalition salvage the serum, founding the Temple of Hevera to train Templars and restore stability.

  "That’d be a hard reputation to shake," Ryder said.

  "It took centuries, long before my time. That’s my point. Do what you must, and those who call you fake will accept your House. It’s about respect, as you told the Vagahm dwarf. Character over title will win them over."

  Ryder glanced away, taking another drink. "You’re right. You and Hackett will get along well."

  "I’m just doing my duty as a Templar," Natilite said. "Bringing protection and guidance wherever I can."

  "You’ll need to bring some in the coming days."

  "If the dwarves succeed, you mean?"

  "That’s right. We hold the line, and if they pull through—"

  "We’ll make them pay?"

  "Damn right." Ryder finished his beer and grabbed his tea. As he prepared to drink, they saw the same orange glowing bug zip by, vanishing into the distance. He chuckled, took a sip, but spilled some on his uniform, groaning as he looked down.

  Natilite pointed at him. "I tried to warn you they’re bad luck."

  The two stared at each other and laughed.