Nellens Suantamon
"Eyes front, thin-blood!"
"What did you call me?"
"Thin-blood! I called you what you are, you're barely an exalt."
"Any other time, I'd invite you to the field so we could test that. But you didn't call on me for such pleasantries."
"No, here, thin-blood. I suppose this is a summon to the disciplinary court you so richly deserve."
"Thank you for bringing it, Honoured one, will that be all?"
"Dismissed."
It hadn't been a summons, at least, not a court summons. Quite a few Nellens Dynasts were part of the All-Seeing eye, but this was different. Suantamon was a triple-agent, adopted as a 'lost egg' and taking the coin, sent to military school, the young earth aspect had been the object of ridicule and scorn, despite not being biologically a member of the house he was persecuted for being a member of. Persection not following reason being nothing new, anywhere. Once there, he had been contacted in the usual fashion, a playing card, a joker, defaced with the all-seeing eye eccentrically, was left in his pocket by a clever pickpocket, he'd never found out who it was. He was to infiltrate his new house. Great things were expected of someone no one would suspect of greater loyalty to the realm. Spies would kill for such a cover. And so it was, for thirty years. He'd spied and reported and done his time. His unit had been assigned artifact armour, and exemplary service against the Raksha had found him promoted high enough, a formal adoption request into Nellens had gone through the deliberative. Having expected marriage prospects, not adoption, Suantamon was more than a little surprised, but his allies in the all-seeing eye all kept saying he'd have better visibility into things, once he was a Nellens, and of course, they watched everyone. During the adoption feast, he'd been abducted. As if someone had cut into the walls of reality a door from which he had been extracted, with no one the wiser. That's what he kept telling himself, for while his new matriarch was hardly so fond of him, a feast whose guest of honour disappeared for long wasn't much of one. He had returned, and no one had been any the wiser. He needn't have worried, those who spoke to him that day, spoke to him outside of time, outside of space. And they were waiting for him in that same non-space today, waiting for him to go to the Tea-shop of the Thousand Twilights, be observed by Ohanlei, and abscond with him while she watched. She was hardly the most powerful goddess, nor the most effective spy, but most opponents stopped looking for a secret meeting, when you went into a spymaster's lair. For those that didn't stop looking, well, not everyone could follow where they'd be taking Suantamon. It was a soap bubble, a tiny, delicate soap bubble, made of the purest ambrosian soap. It would clean metaphorically any godly skin, any lion dog, celestial lion or Simhata. They were metaphorically inside, for an eternity. The eternity between ticks of the clock. Time had stopped for them. They would leave, when they were ready. Suantamon was bound, hand and foot, his handler, The Butler examining him for tampering, as he did, every time. Compared to the spies of heaven, the all seeing eye were amateurs, Suantamon thought. He'd been a member for twenty years now, having completed his fifty years of service to the legion, as a 'lost egg', just this month, and awaiting his 'discharge for the purpose of retirement' papers. There'd been wrangling on the floor of the deliberative to authorize just that, squashed by the eye. Or so he thought. The butler undid the ties binding Suantamon, and bade him to sit in the small office, offering tea, the same metaphorical tea as was waiting in the teahouse they had just left. This would reduce the number of traces that this meeting had occured. This was one of the reasons Suantamon thought these people were serious: magical espionage was harshly defended against. An exalt's charms would have little purchase, he thought. Little did he know that they'd go much further, and while they did so routinely, this was not a regular meeting. "Suantamon..." The butler started. "I want you to meet Breeze, Special Skills, Equilibrium of a Soap Bubble, Yule delivery without subtlety and Friendships Broken." "Honour is mine, I'm sure. Whoa, and I thought Ragara Suara Manton looked buff." He was pointing out the aged, but still extremely fit body of Special Skills, just barely fitting into his first age armor. "Someone has to carry people, we can't leave soldiers on the field." He said, his voice gruff, his accent from the blessed isle, or so Suantamon thought. Breeze wore no armour, and so did not attract as much attention, but they and Friendships Broken had been doing all the carrying. Friendships broken would have been a giant, compared to one of the Sumo wrestlers of the West; he was expected to, everyone guessed. He also wore heavy armor, not the light one the others sported. Breeze was this guy who just zoned out of meetings. He was signing, like he had no voice to speak with, and that make Suantamon leery of asking his opinion on anything. He couldn't be seen normally either, like his face was blurred. Like he had been censored from heaven, but not in the normal way, in a more permanent, always on, no, people can't see your face, way. It was disconcerting. 'I am the field leader, I expect your cooperation.' Breeze signed. "I want to help, what am I helping with?" "We've heard the white veil got a toehold in Nellens, you're being sent to infiltrate them." "But everyone knows the white veil don't exist." 'Then you can infiltrate them no problem, right?' Breeze signed, and it was quite obvious how much sarcasm he laid into the words, signing so very slowly. "Look, how come everyone always says those guys don't exist?" "Because we've always made sure not to let any of them talk, once we caught them. They cause trouble, that's what they do." "Why would they want a Dynast of Nellens?" "They don't know that's what you are yet, and they would be sympathetic if you told them some greater force blocked your request..." "I get that my request is taking a little time, but the deliberative... was never that fast." "Oh, I assure you, there's something blocking your request, but it's a potential transfer to heaven's dragons, not what is commonly known." "What, I'd come work with you?" "Somewhat, it's complicated, but you'd be closer to Breeze and these others, for sure." That was a lie, or at least, less than half the truth. That was happening a lot in the Bureaus lately.
It hadn't been a summons, at least, not a court summons. Quite a few Nellens Dynasts were part of the All-Seeing eye, but this was different. Suantamon was a triple-agent, adopted as a 'lost egg' and taking the coin, sent to military school, the young earth aspect had been the object of ridicule and scorn, despite not being biologically a member of the house he was persecuted for being a member of. Persection not following reason being nothing new, anywhere. Once there, he had been contacted in the usual fashion, a playing card, a joker, defaced with the all-seeing eye eccentrically, was left in his pocket by a clever pickpocket, he'd never found out who it was. He was to infiltrate his new house. Great things were expected of someone no one would suspect of greater loyalty to the realm. Spies would kill for such a cover. And so it was, for thirty years. He'd spied and reported and done his time. His unit had been assigned artifact armour, and exemplary service against the Raksha had found him promoted high enough, a formal adoption request into Nellens had gone through the deliberative. Having expected marriage prospects, not adoption, Suantamon was more than a little surprised, but his allies in the all-seeing eye all kept saying he'd have better visibility into things, once he was a Nellens, and of course, they watched everyone. During the adoption feast, he'd been abducted. As if someone had cut into the walls of reality a door from which he had been extracted, with no one the wiser. That's what he kept telling himself, for while his new matriarch was hardly so fond of him, a feast whose guest of honour disappeared for long wasn't much of one. He had returned, and no one had been any the wiser. He needn't have worried, those who spoke to him that day, spoke to him outside of time, outside of space. And they were waiting for him in that same non-space today, waiting for him to go to the Tea-shop of the Thousand Twilights, be observed by Ohanlei, and abscond with him while she watched. She was hardly the most powerful goddess, nor the most effective spy, but most opponents stopped looking for a secret meeting, when you went into a spymaster's lair. For those that didn't stop looking, well, not everyone could follow where they'd be taking Suantamon. It was a soap bubble, a tiny, delicate soap bubble, made of the purest ambrosian soap. It would clean metaphorically any godly skin, any lion dog, celestial lion or Simhata. They were metaphorically inside, for an eternity. The eternity between ticks of the clock. Time had stopped for them. They would leave, when they were ready. Suantamon was bound, hand and foot, his handler, The Butler examining him for tampering, as he did, every time. Compared to the spies of heaven, the all seeing eye were amateurs, Suantamon thought. He'd been a member for twenty years now, having completed his fifty years of service to the legion, as a 'lost egg', just this month, and awaiting his 'discharge for the purpose of retirement' papers. There'd been wrangling on the floor of the deliberative to authorize just that, squashed by the eye. Or so he thought. The butler undid the ties binding Suantamon, and bade him to sit in the small office, offering tea, the same metaphorical tea as was waiting in the teahouse they had just left. This would reduce the number of traces that this meeting had occured. This was one of the reasons Suantamon thought these people were serious: magical espionage was harshly defended against. An exalt's charms would have little purchase, he thought. Little did he know that they'd go much further, and while they did so routinely, this was not a regular meeting. "Suantamon..." The butler started. "I want you to meet Breeze, Special Skills, Equilibrium of a Soap Bubble, Yule delivery without subtlety and Friendships Broken." "Honour is mine, I'm sure. Whoa, and I thought Ragara Suara Manton looked buff." He was pointing out the aged, but still extremely fit body of Special Skills, just barely fitting into his first age armor. "Someone has to carry people, we can't leave soldiers on the field." He said, his voice gruff, his accent from the blessed isle, or so Suantamon thought. Breeze wore no armour, and so did not attract as much attention, but they and Friendships Broken had been doing all the carrying. Friendships broken would have been a giant, compared to one of the Sumo wrestlers of the West; he was expected to, everyone guessed. He also wore heavy armor, not the light one the others sported. Breeze was this guy who just zoned out of meetings. He was signing, like he had no voice to speak with, and that make Suantamon leery of asking his opinion on anything. He couldn't be seen normally either, like his face was blurred. Like he had been censored from heaven, but not in the normal way, in a more permanent, always on, no, people can't see your face, way. It was disconcerting. 'I am the field leader, I expect your cooperation.' Breeze signed. "I want to help, what am I helping with?" "We've heard the white veil got a toehold in Nellens, you're being sent to infiltrate them." "But everyone knows the white veil don't exist." 'Then you can infiltrate them no problem, right?' Breeze signed, and it was quite obvious how much sarcasm he laid into the words, signing so very slowly. "Look, how come everyone always says those guys don't exist?" "Because we've always made sure not to let any of them talk, once we caught them. They cause trouble, that's what they do." "Why would they want a Dynast of Nellens?" "They don't know that's what you are yet, and they would be sympathetic if you told them some greater force blocked your request..." "I get that my request is taking a little time, but the deliberative... was never that fast." "Oh, I assure you, there's something blocking your request, but it's a potential transfer to heaven's dragons, not what is commonly known." "What, I'd come work with you?" "Somewhat, it's complicated, but you'd be closer to Breeze and these others, for sure." That was a lie, or at least, less than half the truth. That was happening a lot in the Bureaus lately.
Children
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