June 29, 9 ATC

City of Schwarzundgelb, Province of Apidaea, Oligarchy of Bumblebee

Zissman sat in the cathedral, staring up at the statues of the Goddesses, wondering what the Bumblebeeans saw in them. Bumblebee had been their main contender in Rubia, and it had been difficult to establish a foothold in such a staunchly religious nation. But the Church's converts, especially in Schwarzundgelb, had delivered to them a foothold along the Sunken River. Now, it was up to Zissman to strengthen that foothold. He decided a speech would do nicely.

Zissman heard the scuffling of Draco's heavy boots on the floors of the cathedral, and he turned to face him. Draco had his helmet off—an unusual sight—and a grim look on his face. Zissman merely put on a smile and gestured to a spot next to him.

"Draco, my boy," he said in a fatherly voice, "You look perturbed."

"Just tired, my lord," Draco said, and he slouched down next to Zissman. "And if I may be frank, you don't look terribly energetic either."

Zissman sighed and stroked his chin. Draco had a point. The stresses of running an entire war had been steadily accumulating: he barely had time for eating or sleeping, and his beard and hair had grown uncomfortably long because he simply lacked the time to see a barber. But these were small prices to pay for victory. For his, and the Goddess's triumph. He returned his gaze to the twin statues of the Bumblebeean Goddesses.

"Why do you think the people worship these goddesses?" Zissman asked. Draco gave him a questioning look.

"How do you mean?"

"What about them makes them… believable?" Zissman stroked his chin. "I have traveled far and wide over this Subreddit. I will not claim to have seen all it has to offer, but their beliefs seem so strange. More than one god, one god in two persons, a god as a force, a will, instead of a being. It all seems so odd." He leaned forward, examining the statues, as if they would stand and answer his questions. "Do they practice miracles? Offer salvation? Answer prayers? They sit in the sky and do nothing, where our Goddess has walked among us. And yet their peoples reject us and our goodwill. I simply do not understand."

Draco turned to look at the two statues. Zissman sensed the question was churning in his brain too, but he expected no answer.

"Because it is all they know," Draco said at last. Zissman had not expected Draco to have the insight to offer an answer.

"Go on," Zissman said.

"They grew up with this," Draco continued. "They grew up under the eyes of these gods. To them, they are familiar. They are real. To be sure, we can offer salvation and security, but even though they may convert, our Goddess will never truly be theirs. They simply lack the perspective for it, though I suppose the same can be said of us."

"I suppose," Zissman muttered. Draco was showing an uncharacteristic level of insight. He was unsure whether to be impressed or concerned.

"Zissman," Draco said, after they had sat in silence for a bit. "Do you ever have doubts?"

"Doubts?" Zissman said. He knit his fingers. "Why would you have doubts?"

Draco looked down at the ground, a little sheepish. "Sometimes," he said, a trill of fear in his voice, "sometimes I have… visions. Visions of things I have never seen. And when I do, I feel…" He paused again, unsure. "I feel like a different man."

"Visions?" Zissman asked. It was said that only the most pious were blessed with visions from the Goddess. Of course, many madmen claimed the same. One could argue both applied to Draco.

"Indeed," Draco said. "But it's only ever one thing. A woman, with long black hair, and red robes. And she never says anything. But I feel like I owe her everything."

Zissman, despite himself, couldn't help a grin. He was having visions of the Red Maiden, there was no doubt about it. And if she was appearing to Draco, the most zealous of all his servants, then there was no doubt that they were doing her will.

"My child," Zissman said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You have no need to fear. The Red Maiden herself has appeared to you, to affirm your conviction."

"The Red Maiden?" Draco gasped. He looked up at the ceiling of the cathedral, as if he would find her there. It amused Zissman. "Can it really be?"

"It must be," Zissman said. "Do not fear doubts, my boy. They are natural. And if nothing else, this is proof that our Goddess stands behind us."

"Yes," Draco said, and the conviction in his eyes returned. "You are right, of course. But it's not me you sailed here to convince."

Zissman cast an eye at the open doors of the cathedral. Already he could hear the clamoring of the crowd, who, if nothing else, were curious to hear what their new ruler had to say. If he played his cards right, he could make the pious Yurists of Schwarzundgelb into another colony of believers.

"Thank you for reminding me," Zissman said, somewhat disappointed he had to go and deliver yet another speech. "I should probably make my appearance. Come," he said, standing. "It's no good to keep them waiting"

"I suppose you're right, my lady," Draco said absentmindedly.

Zissman slowed his pace and cast a backwards look at Draco. "Pardon?"

Draco looked innocently up at him. "I said I suppose you're right, my lord."

Zissman smiled darkly at him and shook his head. "Forgive me," he said. "I thought you said something else." He turned around and continued out the cathedral doors to deliver his speech.

June 30, 9 ATC

City of Schwarzundgelb, Province of Apidaea, Oligarchy of Bumblebee

Austin knew that there would be no welcome reception upon her arrival. Not that she minded, of course. She knew that she would never love pomp and procedure as much as people like Faker did. But even so, she was expecting more upon her arrival in Schwarzundgelb.

The city was dark and almost completely deserted; an odd thing for such a populous city. It was only eight-thirty in the evening, yet the streets had already cleared themselves for Austin and Faker. As they paced up the road leading to the former mayoral manor, Faker shook his head.

"It's very quiet," he said, stating the obvious. Austin nodded along.

"Indeed," she said. Austin glanced down a side alley and saw a man quickly lock up his shop before hurrying away. "I dare say it's quieter now than on the countryside."

"True," Faker said. "Truth be told, I didn't expect it to be this way. The people of Bumblebee are always so… firey. I thought there'd be much more rioting."

"Does this usually happen?" Austin asked.

Faker glanced to the side, thinking. "Well," he said. "Whenever the Church takes over a hostile city, one of two things happen. Most of the time, like right now, the people get all scared and afraid that we're going to go around murdering people, so they start acting weird and they stop going out at night. Then, after a week or two, when they realize we won't actually harm them any, they go back to normal. Circle of life." He drew a circle in the air to illustrate his point.

Austin raised an eyebrow. "And what's the other option?"

"They start rioting," Faker said. He shuddered. "Things get messy after that. Jannis is always a little, shall we say, heavy handed when it comes to meting out punishment." He realized himself and paused. "That doesn't happen often," he hastily added.

"I'll take your word for it," Austin said. They arrived at the gates of the mayoral manor and, after dismounting, were escorted inside by a few disgruntled city guards. The guards took them through the beautifully decorated yet poorly lit hallways of the manor and finally emerged in the dining room. Jannis and Zissman sat at a small round dining table while Anti stood and played the violin. As they entered, Zissman pressed his finger to his lips and pointed at Anti, who seemed not to notice their entry.

"Anti plays the violin?" Austin asked. Faker chuckled.

"I know, right?" he said. "I always thought her hobby would be something boring, like chess or reading. Never would've pegged her as a violinist."

"I also play the flute," Anti piped up. "But I'm a little rusty."

"Real one-woman band, aren't you?" Faker jested as he sat down. Anti rolled her eyes and finished her rehearsal, giving a small bow as she placed the violin back in its case. Zissman, Austin, and Jannis broke into a round of polite applause. Anti smiled bashfully and sat down at the table with them.

"Magnificent," Zissman said. "I'm quite pleased. Anti, if I ever find someone better with finances than you, you can join the court ensemble instead."

The whole party laughed. "Well," Anti said, "I suppose I could live with your offer, but only if you made Faker the court jester."

Faker made an expression of mock disgust. "I should be flattered. I am an actor, not a writer. If I could find someone to write my jests, I suppose I could live with it."

"Then look no further," Austin announced. "My father was a playwright and an author later in life. If anyone can make you seem charming, it's me."

"Oh, I don't think anyone's that good," Jannis said. More laughter. Zissman beckoned for a servant to bring another helping of roast beef to the table.

"As much as I enjoy this," Zissman said, "I'm afraid we have more pressing matters. Gwydion and Contramundi failed to sway King Dat to their side, and my agents in Junipera report that McDouggal has been assassinated. His country is ripe for the picking.

"More importantly, my agents report that the leaders have retreated to Arkos, at Fort Jaunerrha. I've already ordered a good portion of the men to begin preparations. The day after tomorrow, the fleet will sail. We will catch them at Fort Jaunerrha and we will squash this rebellion once and for all!"

Austin felt a bit lightheaded. The war was so close to being over. The Church was inches from victory. She thought the war would've lasted much longer, given how thinly stretched the Church had become. Still, if they bungled this attack, it very well could.

"And where does that leave us?" Faker said. He was clearly irritated. Austin had never known him to be eager to wage war, and he'd be especially resistant after returning from a campaign. Zissman seemed to sense this too, and he put on a light smile to ease him.

"Faker," Zissman said in that honeyed voice of his. "You know I wouldn't entrust this task to just anyone. Most of the soldiers on those vessels are Enablerish, and it is only fitting that their lord sail with them."

Faker took a bite of a carrot, unsatisfied. "Will Anti or Austin accompany me?"

Jannis grunted. "Anti will travel with me and Zissman to Fort Bombus, outside the capital," he said. "While we war against the Bumblebee rebels, you and Austin will destroy the League. Without leaders, they will fall apart."

Upon hearing Austin's name, Faker relaxed a bit. She was glad to know Faker thought highly of her. Or at least, that he felt secure around her.

"Do you have schematics of Fort Jaunerrha?" Austin asked. "It would behoove us to know where to strike our enemies the hardest."

"Fear not," Zissman said, a wry grin on his face. "I have something even better. Though you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see it." He stood from the table and gave a polite bow. "I bid you all a good evening. Jannis, with me. I have things I must discuss with you."

As Zissman left, Jannis grumbled to himself, but gave the table a nod and followed. Anti waited until they were out of earshot before she spoke.

"He's so serious," she mumbled. She took a sip of her wine and began pouring glasses for Faker and Austin. "Never a moment's rest. And so secretive!"

"I don't believe he means it personally," Austin said. She beckoned for Anti to stop filling her glass and took a sip of her wine. It was too bitter for her taste. "But he will always be an outsider. Perhaps he just feels… more comfortable around people he knows better."

Faker shrugged and took a large bite out of another carrot. "Anti and I are his lieutenants," he said. "What could he have to share that doesn't involve us?"

"Well," Austin said. "He is masterminding a plan years in the making. It makes sense he'd be paranoid the closer he got to success."

"He's always paranoid," Anti said. She drummed her fingers on the table. "But staunch in his beliefs, at least. As are we all."

Faker rolled his eyes at that and threw back about half his glass of wine. "Oh, don't get started on another sermon about what's right and just," he groaned. "I've heard enough of those from Zissman and Nitesco both." At the word 'Nitesco' he dragged his hand across the tablecloth. Anti squinted at him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"No." Faker crossed his arms and pouted. Austin couldn't help but smirk.

"He got his ass handed to him by Nitesco again, didn't he?" Anti said. Faker grunted in a mix of anger and affirmation. Austin and Anti exchanged grins.

"Third time's the charm, buddy," Austin said. Faker sighed and drank the rest of his wine before placing the glass upside-down on a tablecloth.

"As entertaining as this has been," he said, clearly annoyed, "I think I'm going to head off to bed. Tomorrow is going to give me a headache, and I may as well be well-rested for it."

"Don't let the Nitescos bite!" Anti called to him as he skulked out of the room. Faker made a rude gesture back at her before heading up the stairs to the guest rooms. Anti just laughed and took another sip.

"What a sourpuss," Anti said. She smiled, and Austin couldn't help but grin with her.

"Well," Austin said, "Nitesco has taken him down twice now. If he loses a third time, I fear he'll do something drastic."

"Oh, he'll just skulk and be bitter until one of them dies," Anti said. She sipped her wine. "But at least then we'll have some peace and quiet."

Austin laughed. "Would that be worth the cost?"

"Depends on who you ask," Anti replied, bitterness in her voice. Austin cleared her throat, and they fell into silence.

"So," Austin said, "I must admit, I'm curious as to why you joined forces with the Church."

Anti leaned forward and sat up uncomfortably straight. "Why do you think?"

"I don't know," Austin said, "but I must admit, you seem more… principled than the others."

Anti smirked, and her shoulders relaxed a bit. "Principled?" She chuckled. "You're the first person I've ever met who would call me that."

"I'm serious," Austin said. "You were the only one who didn't look down at me when I talked to them about why I joined. Faker rolled his eyes. Jannis and Zissman thought I was lying. But you were the only one, I think, who actually agreed."

Anti smiled slightly. "Excellent observations," she said. "If Zissman ever puts me in the court ensemble, you can have my job." They both laughed softly.

"Still want to know?" Anti asked.

Austin nodded. "It can't be worse than what Faker said."

"I don't doubt that," Anti commented. "But I digress. When Celtic first began his revolt, he campaigned through Rubia, starting here in Bumblebee. Once he was done here, he headed to Ladybug, my home, and he gave the council of merchant barons a choice: join or die. Most, thinking that he would be stamped out within a year, chose to resist. My father did not."

"He sold Ladybug out to Celtic," Austin said. Anti wrinkled her forehead.

"Celtic would've razed Ladybug eventually," she said. "My father sought to gain from it. He opened the gates to the city and killed the rest of the merchant barons. The Logic family was installed as the sole rulers of Ladybug. As my father's only child, I was exposed to his methods and opinions in rulership early. Everything was going fine, until ANGQ killed Celtic."

"And that was the end of the Logic family?" Austin asked. Anti again wrinkled her brow.

"Not quite," she said. "My aunt, also a Logic by birth, chose to resist. She escaped the city and lived under an assumed name until my father was ousted, and then she crawled out of the woodwork to take over again. She reinstated the council of merchant barons, had my father executed, and put me in prison."

"In prison?" Austin asked. Anti nodded.

"My aunt was under a lot of pressure to rid Ladybug of everything my father created, including me. If she hadn't seen my potential, I'm sure I would've been sent to the gallows with my father. But instead she threw me in a cell for four years and then pulled me out once everyone forgot about me. And when I emerged, I found that because of my father, my family was despised and feared. It was… a shock."

Austin folded her hands in her lap. "What happened after that?"

Anti sniffled and took a big gulp of wine. "About a year after I returned to public life with my aunt, I was approached by Zissman. He said that I had potential, and that he could help me restore my family to what it once was. All I had to do was led him my skills and stick around for the ride." She sighed and wiped her eyes. "And, you know, I can't complain. He did what he said he would."

"And your aunt?" Austin asked, her voice quiet.

Anti sighed. "She had no children. And I'm the baroness now, aren't I?"

Austin nodded. "I'm sorry," she said.

Anti shook her head and smiled humorlessly. "Don't be. It was part of the bargain. And I always get what I bargain for."

Silence fell over the room, and Anti stared over Austin's shoulder as Austin waited for her to respond. After a while, Anti sighed and reached into her coat.

"On a lighter note," she said, "I have a gift for you." She removed a hand cannon from her inside pocket and placed on the table. Austin eagerly snatched it up and examined it.

"A hand cannon!" Austin exclaimed. "Where did you get this?"

"I took it from Gwydion," Anti said, with some pride, "during the battle at Inferno's castle."

Austin looked up at her and cocked her head. "Why give it to me?"

Anti shrugged. "Because I don't like it or know how to use it. Because you're principled. You deserve it."

Austin looked up at her with a sly grin. "If I didn't know better," she said, "I'd say you were trying to impress me."

Anti faked a gasp and lifted a hand to her chest. "Such grievous slander!" she exclaimed.

"Only you know for sure," Austin replied. They both laughed heartily, and Anti stood from her chair.

"Well," she said, "that's enough for one night. I'm heading to bed. Are you staying up?"

"I think I will," Austin said. "I'll go and explore the city a bit. If I'm leaving in two days for battle, I might as well experience what it has to offer."

Anti chuckled. "Have fun. Good night," she said, and she left the dining room. Austin examined the hand cannon, lamenting how it had grown crusty and scratched without Gwydion's religious care. She frowned and placed it in her inside pocket before turning her attention to Zissman's task.

Did she have the strength to finish the job? Or would she die without the chance to see the fruits of her labors?

"I'll think about that tomorrow," Austin told herself. She threw back the rest of her wine and left for the night.