---

Elinor left the crying sisters in the care of her father as she circled the carriage to stand at its back, Roman joining her.  Her gaze slid over the luggage, bearing the crest of some kind of bird with its wings outstretched.

“Julian’s family symbol, I presume,” she whispered, noticing the storm drawing closer.  “Is the Empire’s army that close?”

“Hmm?”  Roman chuckled and shook his head.  “Storms are quite common here since it is such a prominent area for training Tempests.  In fact, it’s more common not to see the clouds coming since they can just pop up over the city at any moment… or so I’ve heard.”

“I see.”

Elinor’s focus flicked to the tall walls as Death brought her attention to it.

“We’ve been spotted by the guards.  It seems they’re sending word down to the gate.”

Famine sighed.  “They’ll send a patrol, no doubt.  What should we do, Empress?”

Pondering the situation that Roman had thrown them into, she eyed the storm again.  Roman was too intelligent not to have calculated this, yet there were things the man didn’t know about modern-day culture as an old, retired military general.  He was old school, which meant there were quite a few tropes that would catch him off-guard.

She walked to the hill to observe the gate beside Ash, addressing the Legend.  “Roman, am I correct to think there is a school, tower, or academy for Tempest users to attend that is reserved for the nobility?”

The man mirrored her, finding his hands behind his back and gazing out at the wagons trying to enter the massive city; progress was slow for those seeking shelter due to screening.

“For the upper echelon, yes.”  His brow furrowed, glancing back at the sisters, the noble boy, and her father, attentively listening to the Death Knight explain her elevated position within the hierarchy of the Empire.  “I’m not sure about the details since it wasn’t a part of my plan.  Why?”

Her lips curled.  “Well, if I’m here for eleven days, then I think I have a better plan.  First, I must acquaint myself with the city and the class system.  You have everything set in order to identify me as a ruler from overseas, correct?”

Roman’s face creased, pushing up his glasses.  “I’ve forged many documents in advance, using a raven as the crest for a mythical kingdom whispered about beyond the realm of magic and legend.  I sold your personality as best I could since I thought this style would fit your persona, as well as explain your unnatural powers.”

He nudged his head back toward the carriage.  “I sealed all of the letters using the Delenear family crest, providing further evidence of your empire’s existence.  The blue paper one in the document compartment will have all the necessary proof, and the officers at the city gates should recognize the symbol when I hand them the letter.”

Tiffany joined them and giggled as she sorted through her bag of goods.  “Well, you’ve certainly been a busy bee.  It seems you’ve been plotting to use Our Empress in your schemes for some time.”

Roman shrugged.  “It was simply one of many routes I set into motion.  In any case, we should have a royal guard escort us once the patrol comes to investigate what we are doing off the road.  I stole some of the clothes from Julian’s mother before the manor burned down.  They keep clothes from their teenage years, so something should fit you.”

Elinor slowly shook her head, spotting a mounted group of knights exit the gate to intercept them.  “No, if you’ve already set my reputation in place, then I can do everything else.  You have money?”

“Mmm.”  The Legend was no doubt glaring at her behind his glasses.  “I would rather stick to a set plan than improvise.  It would be best to head straight for the castle to talk to the king and let it be known that you’re in the city.  There is a lot of tension with so many asylum seekers flooding the lower city and sewers, making the nobility anxious.”

A short chuckle escaped Elinor’s throat as she ordered Black to go into the carriage and fetch the sealed document within.  “You’re a general, Roman…  I’m an empress.  You’ve done your part; now, I’ll do mine.  Get everything ready to move.  We’ll be entering the city.”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck before going to fulfill her command.  “I hope you know what you’re doing.  From experience, you can be… heavy-handed.”

Her glowing, emerald eyes drifted to his back as he went to get the horses ready to move.  “I may have an iron fist, as leaders must, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own methods of finesse.”

Tiffany was beaming as she saw the men on horseback, rushing toward them while holding up the giant flag with some sort of saber-toothed tiger, colored white and red.  “I can feel a chill running down my spine.  Ah!  I love that sensation of pins and needles.  I can feel your hands closing around the neck of this kingdom!”

Elinor sent Black to deliver the letter to the horsemen, mind working on everything she’d learned thus far.  Perhaps this could be fun.  I get the feeling Roman wanted my glitzy little sister for this role.  It’s not my style to just go in and play politics without holding a good pair of cards in my hand.

She spoke through the Nexus to get everyone on the same page as she made up her mind, and Famine met with the cautious knights to hand them the blue, sealed document.

Castria, you are not my servant, but a queen who rules one of my territories.  Do you think you can handle that?

The girl’s energetic voice was filled with doubt.  “E-Empress, I’m all for living the high life, but what if I blow up and cause an incident?”

That is our first priority, and I didn’t ask about ‘what ifs;’ I asked if you could do it.

“I’ll do my best, Empress!”

She smiled as the slightly older girl put a hand over her left breast, in a sort of salute, as she came to attention.  Her father was far more practical.

“Just learn from the Empress, Castria.  She’ll show you the bossy ways of a teenager.”

Elinor shot a slightly dirty look at her grinning father.  Your sister is not your sister, but your servant, and, Black, you are to act as mine while we are here.  At least, until I find a suitable replacement in this world.

“As you command,” the dark-haired, thin woman stated, trotting forward beside the leader of the patrol.  “They are calling you the Raven Empress.”

Death’s chest shook with mirth on their approach.  “Well, they’re intimidated.”

“When you have a polished and gemmed skull for a head, it can certainly leave an impression,” Famine returned with a half laugh.

Her father butted in.  “Julian’s on board with Castria’s advancement, although, for obvious reasons, he’s now nervous about the jump in her station to a queen.  Perhaps princess would be better?”

The sorceress looked between them, waiting for their verdict.  “I’m happy with a princess title.  Queen is a, eh-heh, a bit much.”

Suit yourself.  Princess in public it is, Elinor accepted.  Now, don’t fumble the part, and join me.

She could feel Castria’s nervousness as she hurried over, almost stumbling and proving her big sister right in her clumsiness.  Luckily, Edmon was there to catch and prompt her to slow her pace; she was a royal now, which meant rushing wasn’t something she should do.

A dark-haired knight reigned in his horse, all of his men waiting a distance away as Roman, her father, Castria, Julian, and Elira joined her.  Black got down from her horse to stand at attention behind her, playing the role of maid.  She almost caused the knight to lock up and fall off his animal as Famine’s sickly steed vanished in wisps of smoke.

“Empress Elinor, it is—did… that horse just vanish?!”

Elinor chuckled, being the first to respond and showing her strong demeanor.  “Yes, it did.  You will see many magical and mysterious things from my servants.  Is it you that will be guiding us into the city?”

Regaining his composure and seeing the wide-eyed stares and whispers of his men, the tall man dabbed, making Elinor giggle inside; she would certainly not be doing this kingdom’s bow.

“Yes, Empress!  I am Lieutenant Cole, Your Imperial Highness.  I shall escort you to the gate for Captain Flera to verify your documentation, and then I am at your disposal.  Lumina is the brightest gem of the kingdom.”

“Excellent,” she said, noting the document held in his right hand.  Her cold eyes lifted to the 28-year-old man’s nervous brown irises.  “I have heard splendid things about Lumina…  I trust there will be no incident to sour my attitude as I sample its culture.”

Cole tried to suppress a shiver at her hard words.  “I will be sure it does not!  Umm, although, it does look like a light storm is coming, Empress.  Perhaps we should take you to the castle or Noble’s District first?”

“I quite enjoy storms,” Elinor answered, catching the man doing his best not to look at the newly resurrected girl beside her, which she put in the spotlight.  “Isn’t that right, Princess Castria?”

The man couldn’t look away now, uncomfortably staring at the blanket-wrapped teenage girl.  His vision quickly snapped to her suddenly glowing neon-blue highlighted black hair.  It was clear he was processing the high station given to the enchanting, star-pupilled, fandango-eyed sorceress.

Castria’s cheeks colored, but her voice held a surprising degree of elegance compared to how it sounded before; it was probably a Royal Court Feat.  “You do enjoy the rain, Empress.  Ahem.  Might we stop off at a store to replace my lost clothes?  I would rather not prance around the Capital of another nation in only a blanket.”

Elinor snickered at Julian’s blush, trying hard not to be noticed looking at his crush.  “That’s what happens when you try to show off untested Tempest skills and burn them away.  It is why I brought you, I suppose…  We will have to make do until we reach an appropriate place to replace our garments.  King Edmon, ride with Lt. Cole.”

Her father showed an obvious bow to demonstrate their own way of respect.  “As you command, Empress.”

Turning away from them, she went for the carriage.  “Roman, find something for The Princess in the luggage before directing the horses.  Queen Tiffany, Princess Castria, and Lord Delenear will be joining me after dressing.  Elira, ride with Black.  We leave for the city.”

The Legend gave her a bow as everyone hopped into place, Death escorting them.  Castria breathed a sigh of relief when Roman produced rather gaudy gold underwear and a summer dress with the hips cut out.

Once she indicated she was changed, Famine opened the door, and Elinor entered.  Her critical eye saw signs of them living in the vehicle, and it smelled of travel.  Julian was swift to try and tidy up with Castria when the door was shut.

Tiffany crossed her legs and settled in without batting an eyelash, continuing a conversation with the young sorceress regarding her powers.  “You must control those emotions better, dearie.  I could sense your mana building; you almost burned Julian and Cole alive.”

“Y-You noticed?!”  the sorceress cried, thighs pressing together and holding her hands against her squirming stomach.  “I thought I was being really good at hiding it.”

A soundless cackle came from the witch.  “Sweetie, your hair starts to glow when your powers activate.  It’s quite the tell.”

“It does?!  It only used to do that if I experienced super strong emotions before…”

It didn’t take long for the horses to pull them into a trot, and Elinor heard the storm drawing closer.  Their local lord appeared to have whiplash from everything that was happening; after all, with a snap of a finger, his crush had just outranked him.

Elinor’s cool gaze shifted to the quivering girl, consoling her through the Nexus.  Your powers have been augmented by my own, so you are bound to feel stronger.  And practice your cadence while you have time.  It’s all about presentation, Castria.  People are conditioned to take orders from authority.  All you need to do is tap into that energy.

“I’m trying, Empress, but it’s…  hard when wearing a blanket in front of so many guys…”

A sly smirk lifted Tiffany’s orange irises, making the clueless young noble next to them fidget under her gaze.  “In front of Julian, you mean?”

Tiffany…  Elinor sighed as a fire erupted from Castira’s forearms, burning away her sleeves as her face turned bright red and her hair flared.  Stop teasing her.  She has enough stress as it is, and shouldn’t you be devising a way to give her better control?

Julian jumped, a cool blue glow coating his hand as he hurriedly placed them over her forearms.  “Icy thoughts, Castria!  Deep breaths!”

“Mmgm.  At least I didn’t damage anything but the sleeves.  And yes, please, I need help,” she cried, only further confusing the noble boy supporting her.

“I’m trying to…  It’s stronger than usual.”

“Haaa,”  Tiffany summoned her book and dully flipped to the page she’d been devising theories on.  “I’m working on it…  Can we stop by a herbalist’s shop or—”  she cut off as Edmon sent her a private message, making her eyes light up.  “The House of Alchemy?  Oh, we must visit there!”

Settling back as Castria’s flames died down, leaving the scent of burnt fabric, Elinor looked at Julian.  “Is there a school here for Tempests or other magical abilities?  And if so, why haven’t you gone?”

The blond brushed back his hair before folding his hands in his lap and taking a calming breath; they went slow due to the rough terrain, tossing them about a tad.

“Allow me to explain, Empress.  Here in the Kaspir Kingdom, only nobles are born as Tempest—they rank so highly that their title shows…  Castria is an… anomaly,” he mumbled as Castria giggled and waved at him, showing she was quick to bounce back.  “Umm.  Pardon the change in topic, but… why is Castria so much more beautiful than before she was brought back—not that you weren’t cute before, don’t—Castria?”

The sorceress didn’t go red or blow up, instead looking down at herself with curious eyes.  “Am I… really that much prettier?  I thought some of my scars and… some other things were different when I was changing, but I haven’t looked too closely.”

Sending a message to Elinor directly, Tiffany commented, “If these people value Tempest so highly to give them a singular title, then maybe our little experiment may be worth more than we think.  It seems they are rare enough that they outrank normal nobles, in that respect.”

Deliberating on the witch’s words, Elinor could see the benefit.  It does seem to call for some investigation, but if they are all nobles, then they’d obviously put themselves on a pedestal.

“True…”

Tiffany nudged the girl’s foot with a wink.  “Listen closer, Little Storm Cloud; there is a stark difference between ‘cute’ and ‘beautiful.’  You’ve been reformed into the perfection that could have been, given all the right diet and environmental conditions.  It is just another attribute of The Empress’ phenomenal power.”

“That’s… amazing,” Julian whispered, now getting a blush from the girl as he stared at her.  “You really do look like a princess in my mom’s dress.”

“Humph.”  Tiffany gave him an internal snort as a bucket of icy water was dumped over both of their heads at the mention, making them edge to either side of the carriage and focus elsewhere.  “Idiot.  Haaa.  You’ll get over it, Cast.”

The sorceress rubbed her tingling arm.  “I killed his mom, though…  How am I ever supposed to get over that?  If I tell him…  I can’t, but… but I have to.  If I do…  What if it comes back on my big sister?”

A chilling breeze crept out from Castria, making Julian shiver, and a low rumble shook Elinor’s throat, emerald eyes drilling into Julian’s face and making him squirm.

We’ll get through it.  For now, focus on the mission ahead of you.

“Yes, Empress…  I’m sorry.”

Never say that again unless absolutely necessary, she bluntly stated, dispelling the cool atmosphere as the girl looked at her.  You are in my Royal Court.  An empire doesn’t function on apologies, nor do others respect those who lather sorries out like sweet nothings.  Don’t be sorry.  Do better.

Shakes stilling, Castria nodded.  “I’ll do better, Empress.”

She didn’t reply as Tiffany further poked fun at the teen, but now she was starting to hit back.

“You should only apologize when Julian whips you in bed.”  The witch’s smirk held an impish grin as Castria glared at her equal in the court.  “You do realize we still have full autonomy in the carnal joys we had in mortality.  Maybe you could perform some… experiments with your little lord?  I’d be happy to observe and document.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, pervert,” Castria shot back.  “I’m not a howling Yanrak.  Maybe I could get some that you could ‘observe and document’ to your heart’s content.  Just be careful they don’t set their eyes on you.  Have you tested it out yet, or are you too scared?”

Tiffany lifted an impressed eyebrow.  “Rawr!  I’d love to learn more about these Yanrak.  Empress, I think we have ourselves a second Valentina!  Feisty,” she giggled, which was cut short as Edmon said something through their private connection.  “Edmon, that’s not fair!  You—ugh.  Eh-hehe.  Excuse me…”

Elinor didn’t want to enter whatever deviant words were passing between her father and former mother.  Anything that got the witch hot and flustered was bound to scar her mind in ways she wasn’t prepared for anyway.

Turning away from her swabbing, delinquent court as Julian cleared his throat, she listened to him finish the explanation.  “My apologies, Empress.  Umm, there are four main Houses of Magic.  The Tempest are all highborn, and the best funded.  Classes generally begin at age seventeen, actually, and the House Selection Ceremony is set to begin in two days.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said with a small smirk.  “I expect the other three Houses of Magic compete with Tempest and always play second fiddle?”

Castria was now listening intently, jumping in to offer her own knowledge.  “Well, yes.  None are quite the same as Tempest.  A-And there are four giant palaces at each corner of the Noble District and a big tower in the center, where combined classes are held.  Julian often told me all about it when we were growing up!  I’ve always dreamed of going, but…”

“Commoner Tempest are not allowed since they’re, ahem, frozen?”  Tiffany snickered.  “That doesn’t seem to be a problem now.  Does it, Princess?  But tell me about these Houses already!  Quit stalling.  Alchemy is one?”

Julian hesitated at the witch’s dismissive question and Elinor’s half-smile.  “Empress… you plan on having Castria enter the House Selection Ceremony… as a princess from your kingdom?”

Tiffany pouted when he didn’t get into the details as she’d asked.  Elinor was interested in this topic, though.  Resting the back of her hand against her cheek, she smiled at the seventeen-year-old boy, illuminated eyes twinkling as even Castria held her breath.

“I need this kingdom to accept you, Castria, and what better way than to allow you to climb the school ranks?  Maybe I’ll pop in from time to time to see your progress if I have the time.  It honestly should be quite simple to arrange.”

Now shaking again, Castria tensed up with pent-up joy.  “I-I really get to go to school with Julian?!  I can—what about my sister?!  I can’t leave her to—”

A flash of lightning outside caused shouts, the rumble spooking the horses and making them jolt, but Roman and the others got them under control.

“Sor—uh…”  Castria froze, forcing a laugh.  “I’ll do better, Empress.”

Tiffany reached over to rub her knee.  “It is a school for the elite, dearie.  I’m sure a servant or two would be allowed to accompany you.”

The sorceress tried to fight the fire crawling up her throat and arms, the red flames dying down to a lovely blue as she said, “Thank you, Empress.”

“You still have to act the part and not embarrass me,” Elinor said with a soft smile.  “It will not be easy learning the proper etiquette, but I’ve given you a starter pack.  Now, Julian, what are these other Houses?”

The blond sat straighter, trying to look dignified.  “The House of Combat, where the Magic Knights are trained, enchanting their own bodies and gear through their mana.  They live a strict discipline and are shown great respect by everyone…”

He paused, shifting uncomfortably.  “The House of Conjuration has recently earned a, eh, bad reputation, and some believe their Battle Zone Gateways are too dangerous…  Many of the other noble houses seem to be supporting it, though, despite last year’s… accident.”

Elinor’s eyes narrowed.  “Battle Zone Gateways, hmm?  Fascinating.  We can get into that later.  And the last one would be the House of Alchemy?”

Tiffany’s arms crossed under her bust as she shook with quiet mirth.  “Obviously, it is the best one.  Alchemy is incredibly versatile, and with access to new worlds through these ‘gateways,’ they would have ample ingredients to craft phenomenal substances and items.  Has anyone created a Philosopher, Blood, or Soul Stone?”  she asked.  “Perhaps we could resurrect an old master or bring him back with us.  A good alchemist is a witch’s best friend!”

“Actually…”  Julian shrank back a little at Tiffany’s narrowing eyes.  “The House of Alchemy is where most commoners enter.  They’re, umm, they’re usually given the worst reputation and the least funding, often resulting in the students raising money for the House to survive.  Usually, their stuff fails, and only the very few useful things they make keep their House open… like the skin care products they produce.”

“Tsk-tsk-tsk,” Tiffany huffed, wagging a finger.  “Alchemy reduced to… healthcare products?  I will not stand it!  Humph.  I will see what kind of ‘Alchemy’ you have in this world, and if it is being underutilized, I will have to whip those professors into shape!”

A little surprised at the fire that was lit in her Witch Queen, Elinor silently prompted her to be quiet as the carriage came to a stop.  “If there is time after you finish your other tasks.”

“Right… the living volcano,” she grumbled, dull stare sliding to the Sorceress.  “Once we get to an alchemist shop, I can see if they have what I need.”

Edmon’s voice came into the discussion.  “We’re inside the gate.  Are you ready to meet Captain Flera?  Apparently, she’s a failed Magic Knight, but still well-respected.  She only wants you, Elinor.”

It makes sense.  No need to crowd her.  Black opened her door as Castria grabbed Juluian’s wrist to keep him back, and Elinor exited.  How was the gossip?

She looked up at the sky as the dark clouds neared, with wooden barriers pulled into place to keep parts of the gatehouse clear from liquid.  All of the commoners had been blocked off, giving them a very wide clearing as she stepped onto the polished white stone of the street; it was obvious something was used to keep it shiny and new-looking.

Her father took her hand to help her down.  “Enlightening.  A rider was sent ahead to give the captain a warning that we were coming.”

What keeps the roads so clean?  California’s upper-class streets weren’t this dazzling.

Cole offered her a bow, showing he’d been paying attention, and Elinor followed the soldier into a fancy building with plenty of room for soldiers to rush by, and stone barriers could be dropped down to block off or even force a limited flow in traffic.

Roman stood with Elira and Black, getting updates from the Horsewoman.  She knew the Legend was probably biting at the bit to be a part of things, but she had to punish him.  Plus, this gave her more cards to play against him since he had no clue what direction she was going to take this, being the old general who wanted to go straight to the king.

Elinor had her own idea of how to incorporate the Sorceress into this kingdom, though, but if it didn’t work, there was always the other empire that wanted her ear.

Naturally, her father joined their journey through the prestigious visage of the gatehouse interior, his imposing presence with his black armor and misty blue eyes drawing attention.

“As far as I was told, it’s always been like this.  Tiffany…”

“I’ll investigate!”

No, Elinor bluntly shot down, making her Witch Queen pout.  I need that control seal for Castria done, or whatever you’re going to do.

“Haaa.  I’m working on it.  It’s not so simple, though, and she could break all my hard work if she pushes too hard.  Think of it like diverging a raging river; I can only curve some of it.  If it gets too unruly, it’ll break through.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to be difficult,” Castria growled.

“Calm your smokestacks, Sparky…  See, this is why I hate sorceresses!  So undisciplined and emotional.”

Work with her.

“Yes, Empress…”

“If I have to work with the pervert…  I like her hat, though.  Can I get a big pointy hat to protect me from rain?”

Tiffany was glaring daggers at the snarky teen.

“You at least have an eye for good fashion for someone in the Magi Core.  I know you’re a little deviant below all that innocence.  I’ll show you the way, dear.  Let’s have some fun.”

Letting the cats bite each other, Elinor tuned them out as the anxious lieutenant took them to a levy-powered lift; Elinor found it an interesting addition as they were pulled to the 4th level, questioning her father about the engineering feat.  It seemed the kingdom was in the beginning stages of a technological revolution on a few fronts.

Entering through a secretary’s door, the woman behind the counter swiftly jumped up and gave her the dab that still made her want to chuckle.  

“The Captain is ready to see you, Empress Elinor!”

Cole swallowed while staring at her father.  “King Edmon, I, uh…”

He raised his hand and sat in one of the rather tough-looking wooden chairs.  “Why don’t we sit and talk some more about the city and what areas are less… savory to take the Empress?”

“Of course.  Empress…”

The officer opened the door for her, and Elinor strode inside, spotting the captain by the window, observing the refugees.  The 38-year-old, tight-eyed woman turned to greet her, hands clasped behind her back.

“I won’t insult you by thinking I know how to greet someone of your stature and power, Raven Empress.  A great many nobles have been trying to buy me off in an attempt to get the first chance at meeting you.  Is there anyone you have your eye on?”

Elinor’s lips curled as she stared into the woman’s no-nonsense, muddy eyes.  “Roman has already gotten to you.  If that’s the case, then tell them I’m sampling their culture in the Noble District.  Where should I stay outside of the castle?”

Captain Flera didn’t answer for a short time, gears turning in her head.  She was looking for something, and that chance might come in the form of being a Magic Knight.  “The Opal Shrine Inn.  The owner was a Magic Knight I used to know who had to leave the service.  He’ll treat you right.  He retained his Knighthood and kept to The Code, allowing him to operate a business in the district.”

“I appreciate the candor,” Elinor said with a small smile.  “Come see me tomorrow.  I’m sure we’ll have more to discuss.”

“I’ll clear my schedule and await your invitation.”

Elinor turned and left, her father opening the door for her, shocking the secretary and knight.  “The Opal Shrine Inn is our next destination.  You know the place, Lieutenant Cole?”

His face lit up.  “I do!  It’s a hotspot for the House of Combat.”

“Is that so…”

A new thought started to spin gears in Elinor’s mind.  If Castria’s big sister wasn’t a good fit to be a sorceress, then she could always use a knight by her side.  And what if her Sorceress could work toward starting her own mixed House of elites?  A princess of another country could certainly hold some sway if Elinor showed a big enough hand.

They’d need allies, though, and she still needed to prepare for her own tournament in the next eleven days.  These Conjurors’ gateways sounded promising, and the potential for a skirmish between the Delva Empire and this kingdom could provide some EXP.

“Lead the way,” she prompted, the adventure of infiltrating a new kingdom to grow her renown sparking renewed interest in these Quests.  “We’ll make a stop at the Alchemist shop on our way… and there’s the thunder.”

Mood brightening with the sudden collapsing heavens, rumbling sky, and gloomy veil that cast over the city, Elinor could see all sorts of opportunities that could come from this new pocket world Roman had brought her to.  Fun things were ahead.

---