Open Wounds

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"Is that so."

She gave a coy smile to him then, and with a steady hand, the Glaucan relieved him of his glass. Taking a sip, she savored the taste on her tongue while moving in close to him. If there were still boundaries between them, she did not wish to risk crossing them, and so refrained from anything other than simple close proximity.

"I have spent enough time away. I trust that, if Necia does begin sounding the drums of war, it would not be unwelcome if I remain at your side. My crew is capable of fulfilling your wishes without me having to guide them."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus nodded.

"Of course. If a war council is convened, advisors will have to be chosen. I think your peculiar experiences would make you an ideal choice for inclusion."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She considered this, and agreed to the notion.

"It is a good start in gaining atonement for scuttling my ship," she murmured.

[Csephion Draxus]

The Satrap smiled.

"And if it's ships that the lady wants, she'll have scores to choose from. Our Glaucan nations are seafarers every bit as ancient as your family."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Fyrian gave him a look, one corner of her mouth tikking upwards.

"Is that so?"

One last drink, and she returned the glass to Draxus.

"Well. The lady is content to wait and see how the coming days treat her for now."

Moving away, she made her way to the couch, slowly lowering herself to sit.

"I would like to see how your fellow Satraps tread in these first days before anything else."

[Csephion Draxus]

He followed her to the couch, reclining on it alongside her.

"Of course. We still have work to do before the fact, but once Ankaa is confirmed as our enemy, I see little to stop us."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She pondered this, looking past him as her eyes took on a somewhat distant sheen. What the Satrapy did now was not dictated by her; she'd merely nudged them in the direction that Draxus wished to proceed. Would they truly consider going to war with Ankaa? That Necia encompass the entirety of Asga with her rule was impossible in her estimations.

Still keeping her stare past him, Fyrian pulled in a long breath.

"You truly believe that your kinsmen will wish to wage war?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"It will be a prospect difficult to avoid. The theft of the lantern is a deep provocation. Combined with the pragmatic possibility of opening the western continent to our influence, I think the case will be a convincing one, no matter where one's priorities may fall on the issue."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"And when Ankaa denies their involvement? You and I both know that they have nothing to do with this, and their words will be the truth. As deep as the Lantern's theft has cut, would there be any doubt that they truly Stole from Necia?"

Without thinking, Ariadne played with the hem of his sleeve.

She was new to this game of politics, and it showed in her perplexed frown and restless hands.

[Csephion Draxus]

"What value would Ankaaran denial have in the face of such a clandestine act? Like Necian ether, it would ignite without provocation. The deed is already done and plain to see. What would the people believe? That such a transgression would be the work of small and petty actors? On the contrary, only a greater threat would be given earnest consideration."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"It would be prudent to account for every avenue though, would it not? To be ready for any reaction."

She ceased her ministrations, quieting her nervous hands. Of course he would be ready; he had been a soldier before the politician she now knew. Suddenly, the Glaucan felt foolish for her worry, and reached for his wine to drink away the thought.

[Csephion Draxus]

"There is an Ankaaran diplomat sequestered in Demos."

Draxus drank of his wine, deep in thought.

"I suppose it would be no hardship to secretly implicate him in these dealings."

He eyed the necklace that was once more around Ariadne's neck.

"A forged document, supposedly from Kairun, with a broken seal printed by your amulet, perhaps?"

[Ariadne Fyrian]

A half-nod, but it wasn't long before she gave him a sideways glance.

"Possibly."

There was a mirthful glint in her green eyes.

"As lawless as Kariun projected himself, he was not above certain habits of an official nature.

"He had a signet ring fashioned; Erifa keeps it for me."

With a gentle hand, Fyrian angled his head up from the medallion she wore so that the two locked eyes.

"That would be a better tool than my necklace I think."

[Csephion Draxus]

"I was merely acting from what I knew, but naturally your idea fits even better."

He smiled cordially, raising his glass in approval.

"Very well then. Produce the signet, and I will make sure to produce the remaining evidence. I keep certain people on my employ when matters of deniability are important."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Fyrian gave a smirk, watching him. She sat at his side, watching him sip his wine, and it wasn't long before she resituated herself. Talk of the current happenings was all well and good, but there were other topics that interested her, and she wished to explore the new candor that the two had agreed to share.

No more lies, no more half-truths.

"Tell me of your years as Imperator."

[Csephion Draxus]

He quirked an eyebrow at that.

"It is as they say, history."

He walked to a scroll cabinet, plucking a cyllinder that held numerous writings.

"One of my officers in the field, he himself later an Imperator, had written of my campaigns, which were mostly against the Jarnvidian hordes and the hill peoples of the west."

He didn't bother to make any further show of the scrolls, as he was sure she'd read that if she so chose. No, she wanted to hear of it from his own mouth.

"Leading men into war is to exist in a state of nature between omnipotence and oblivion. I think there is something desirable about this razor's edge that compels a good leader."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Fyrian stayed where she sat upon the couch, watching him with some interest. Her hands fell to her lap, and she rubbed her palms, gently to ease the first beginnings of soreness.

The light of the sun was ever so slowly bleeding into a warm orange glow, and it filtered through the window to cast the room in soft illumination.

"And do you get the same satisfaction from your current position?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"I do."

Draxus plucked one of the scrolls, unfurled it, glancing at it momentarily.

"There are similarities, though I at times miss the honesties of war. Deception is common in both, but I feel it tends on the endemic in politics."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"And your feud with Varo?"

She rose slowly, but made no move to approach him. That deception was a larger player in the political arena was strengthened by her own falsehood; her own untrue claims that Draxus had known who she was and sent her after the Lantern.

"Is his ire carried over from your days as Imperator, or is he simply a side-effect of your transition into the Satrapy."

[Csephion Draxus]

"My quarrel with Varo only began upon my entry into politics. Perhaps it is nothing more than two charismatic men, and that conflict would be inevitable."

He shook his head.

"However such a thing begins, all that is to be said of it now is that it simply is."