November 10, 8 ATC

Friar's Inn, Province of Apidaea, Oligarchy of Bumblebee

The Friar's Inn was practically deserted, Austin observed. Nitesco and Gwydion had taken the precaution of renting out the entire inn to stifle foul play. She looked around before following them up the stairs. Soldiers were posted at every possible entry point. So long as the inn didn't suddenly begin reeking of manure, they were safe.

As Austin followed Nitesco into one of the upstairs rooms, Gwydion shut the door behind her. Tiredly, he took a seat in a chair by the desk while Nitesco took a seat on the bed.

"So, Austin," Gwydion said, studying her intently. "I understand you have a few questions for us, but we have some we'd like to ask first." He cocked his head, waiting for her response.

She shrugged and leaned against a wall. "Ask away. I have nothing to hide."

"Well, then. Forgive me for being so curt, but is Austin your real name?"

Austin squinted at him. "Well. Out of all the questions to ask me, I didn't expect that one."

Gwydion cleared his throat, prodding her to answer the question. "Fine," she said. "It's not."

"Then what is your real name, lass?" Gwydion spoke up, steepling his fingers.

Austin sighed. "If you really want to know. Vigintia." She paused. "Though you should know nobody's called me that in many years."

"Vigintia, huh?" Gwydion stroked his chin. "I like Austin better. No offense."

"Vigintia?" Nitesco echoed. "That's a Gunnian name, is it not?"

She nodded, and Nitesco smiled. "I figured it was. You still have a bit of an accent."

Upon hearing this, Austin frowned. "Hmm. I never could get rid of that accent."

"Why did you want to?" Gwydion bluntly asked. Nitesco turned, pursed his lips, and glared at Gwydion, who sank his shoulders slightly. Seeing this, Austin chuckled a bit.

"Oh, it's fine. He's just curious." Austin pulled up a chair from the corner and sat down. "I'm guessing that you've drawn the connection between me and Austin Rufus by now."

"Yes, we guessed there was something," Nitesco responded. "Between the accent, the name and the resemblance—" Austin shot him an accusative glare, and he shrugged. "We had an intimation you were somehow related."

"Intimation?" Gwydion sniggered. "That's a tenpenny word, bud. When did you start using such scary words?"

"When I had to deal with foreign diplomats. They can talk the ears off of a wooden soldier. Now, hush." He nodded at Austin. "Continue, if you would."

"Well, I'm guessing he told you about his crimes against the King of Guns N' Roses. About how he, well…" She trailed off and started toying with her hair. "Poisoned them all?"

"Only in passing," Gwydion admitted. "He was not a very open person. Very rarely did he talk about his past, and he never did so for very long."

"Well, he did have a wife," she stated flatly, staring at the ground. "And a daughter he was forced to leave behind."

A moment of silence washed over Gwydion and Nitesco, each absorbing the new information. "So you really are Austin's daughter?" Nitesco folded his hands and contemplated this for a moment. "Well, I'll be damned. He never told us he had a family. Never even suggested it."

"How did you get separated?" Gwydion asked, ever blunt. Nitesco shot him another glare, but Austin raised her hand.

"On the night my father betrayed the King, he took me and fled. The Bumblebeean border wasn't far, but it was long enough that the King's royal guard, who had set up camp nearby, noticed us." Austin swallowed, and her expression darkened. "They gained on us quickly. We bought ourselves a little time by hiding behind a hill, but he knew that they would catch us. So, he gave me the horse and sent me off toward the border while he drew their attention." She paused and sighed again. "That was the last time I ever saw him."

"Well," Nitesco asked, politely knitting his fingers. "What happened after that?"

"Oh, that's not nearly as entertaining," Austin sniffled, and she smiled sadly. "I rode into city of Prosthetium, which was still a Bumblebee possession back then. The horse was stolen, and I fell into a group of street orphans. Kazehh and Jelo, two of my closest friends, were among them."

"Ah, the two ruffians with McDouggal." Gwydion smiled. "They remind me of me when I was younger."

Nitesco smirked. "I remember hearing about them from the servants at the Diet. Apparently, they racked up a fortune in champagne bills."

"That sounds like them," Austin said with a smile, though it quickly faded back into a melancholy blankness.

Another silence settled over the room. Austin stared at the ground, distracted by old, suppressed memories, while Nitesco and Gwydion exchanged concerned glances.

"So, Austin," Nitesco said. "Is there anything we can do for you? Any questions you'd like us to answer?"

Austin looked up and blinked. "Well. I wanted to ask you about my father. And get to know the two of you." She looked down. "The famous Nitesco and Gwydion, who rebuilt Guns N' Roses from the ground up. I've heard the stories about you, and about your time with my father. I wanted to see if they were true, and if you had anything to add to them. I was curious, I suppose. It's been so long…" she trailed off.

Gwydion massaged his hands. "It's been some time since we talked about all of that. We don't do much reminiscing nowadays. But for you, I think we could."

"Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Nitesco asked.

She rubbed her head. "Nothing right now, actually. I'm tired, it's been a long day. Could we talk about it later?"

"Of course," Nitesco said. "If you need to rest, I think we have an empty room across the hall. Anything else we can do?"

"No, your hospitality is quite enough." She smiled and nodded. "Thank you. Both of you. Good night."

"Good night," Gwydion and Nitesco said in unison, and she left without another word. Once he was certain she was gone, Gwydion leaned back in his seat.

"So, what do we do with her? I mean, we can't keep her around forever."

"I know that, Gwydion." Nitesco stood up and furrowed his brow. "But she needs closure. Armed and Ready is on the way back home, right? We pass through Enabler territory tomorrow. When we stop for the night in the capital, we can buy a horse for her to get home with. In the meantime, we can give her the closure she deserves."

"That sounds like a good plan," Gwydion said as he stood up from the chair. He placed a hand on Nitesco's shoulder. "I'm just worried you might get attached."

"You feel the same way, I know it." Nitesco sighed. "Similar faces, voices, mannerisms. It's like he's returned from the dead."

"I understand how you feel, Nitesco. And you're right, I do feel the same way." Gwydion frowned and walked over to the door. "But he hasn't returned. And we should take care not to forget that."

"You know I will." Nitesco crossed his arms and nodded, melancholy. "Good night, Gwydion."

"Good night, Nitesco." Gwydion tried to muster up a smile before he closed the door behind him.

Nitesco sat down on his bed and rested his head on his fist. The sad reality of the situation never escaped him, but he still felt like he finally had the opportunity to get closure for himself, not to mention the girl. A swirl of conflicting emotions shook his mind, and he laid down on the bed. He tried to ignore the ache in his leg.

"You always did like to fuck with me, Austin," he muttered aloud. Nitesco drew the covers over himself and let himself be lulled into sleep with dreams of distant memories.

November 11, 8 ATC

Triumvir Palace, City of Sang-Divin, Duchy of Sororae, Triumvirate of Enabler

Vinpap did not like the new changes. He did not like them one bit.

As he paced through the halls of his own palace, he saw soldiers from both Contramundi's and Faker's forces walking about, whispering and glaring at each other. Only his own soldiers, who manned the palace security, stared ahead impassively as they were meant to, always ready to take down any dissidents as, Vinpap feared, might soon be necessary.

If nothing else, it was an amusing change. Faker, who had always been vehemently opposed to anyone taking authority over him, now defended the new legislation with such fervor that it made Faker's head spin. Contramundi, on the other hand, had gone in the opposite direction. Instead of taking new developments in power in stride, as he normally did, he now railed against the new legislation whenever anybody was around to hear. It annoyed him to no end.

Not that Vinpap disagreed with him, of course. It was hard enough to rein in Contramundi and Faker as it was. He was getting older and older, and as such the sway he held over the two was growing more and more tentative. Now that Inferno was beginning to meddle in his affairs, it would get that much harder to manage them.

As he entered the Triumvir's lounge, he was surprised to see that Contramundi and Faker were already there. They weren't arguing; instead, they sat contentedly in their chairs, enjoying the dinner that the servants had brought them. Cautiously, he took his seat at the head of the table and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Contramundi. Faker. You're certainly early to dinner." He paused. "And… peaceable."

Contramundi smiled and took a bite of a croissant. "Well, I've been doing some thinking."

"Yes," Faker cooly intoned, refolding the napkin on his lap. "I have as well. Now that Inferno has begun the transfer of power, I no longer need to worry about power plays, from without…" He turned to Contramundi and glared at him. "Or within."

"Oh, I agree with about half of that." Contramundi winked and finished his croissant. "Now that Coronam has more or less declared his opposition to his liege, we can expect a large-scale revolt, and soon things will be right back where they should be."

Vinpap tightened his grip on his wine glass. "I hope neither of you plan to take sides in this revolt, if it happens." He beckoned to the sentinels in the room to be on their guard.

"No, of course not," Faker said, and he took the napkin off his lap. "I have no desire for war here in Enabler. That's why I've asked Inferno to send a few detachments of her soldiers here, to keep the peace."

"You what?" Contramundi and Vinpap asked. Faker merely smiled and beckoned out the window.

"If you look closely at the horizon, you'll see that they're already arriving. Much sooner than I expected, might I add. Very gracious of Inferno."

Vinpap sat back in his chair, seething. Contramundi, on the other hand, merely smiled.

"Well, Faker, you should know that Coronam has so graciously lent me some of his soldiers. And they are slated to attack right about now."

Almost on cue, a large bang went off, and in the distance, the wide spray of a firework lit up the evening sky. A large force of soldiers descended from the hills in the distance, half of them attacking the advancing Pollination soldiers and half breaking away to take the city.

Contramundi and Faker stared at each other hatefully, while Vinpap gaped in disbelief. Faker was the first to move.

"Well, Contramundi. You've invited a traitor into our house, and so you are a traitor yourself. Guards! Arrest him!"

About half of the soldiers in the room leveled their spears at Contramundi. Faker smirked, and Vinpap stood up, his grip on the glass he held becoming deathly tight.

"What?!" He stammered in disbelief. "What happened? Why are you taking orders from this whelp?"

"Because he bribed half of your guards," Contramundi said calmly, remaining in his seat.

"How do you know?"

Contramundi flashed him a grin. "Because I bribed the other half."

On cue, the other half of the guards in the room pointed their spears at Vinpap, Faker, and the other guards.

"What the fuck!" Vinpap punctuated his exclamation by hurling his wine glass to the floor. "I will not allow this great nation to fall prey to petty power squabbles! I will have both of you thrown into the oubliette if you do not stand down now!" With another scowl, he drew his saber. "Now!"

"Vinpap, enough posturing," Contramundi demanded, eyes still locked with Faker. "Nobody wants to hurt you."

"Then stand down," he demanded through gritted teeth.

Faker sighed. "Vinpap, you know we can't kill you. But you can't stay here. Soldier!"

At Faker's behest, one of the guardsmen slugged Vinpap, and Faker watched with a not-insignificant feeling of gratification as the old man tumbled to the ground, unconscious. He drew his saber and angled it at Contramundi, who did the same.

"We'll deal with Vinpap later, men. For now, we deal with these revolutionaries. Take them!"

At once, the lounge was a battlefield, and the palace guards descended on one another like flies onto carrion. Over the table, Contramundi attempted a lunge, but Faker sidestepped it.

"You never did learn how to land a hit, Contramundi," he sneered.

"You never knew how to win with grace, Faker," Contramundi jabbed back. "If you did, we might not be in this mess. En garde!"

With that, Faker and Contramundi began their duel. Contramundi attempted to break his opponent's guard with his signature thrusting attacks, but he stayed mostly on the defensive when confronted with Faker's vicious swings. They slowly migrated around the room, neither making any significant headway, while their forces thinned each other's numbers.

"That's enough, Faker!" Contramundi growled, attempting to riposte one of Faker's overhead swings. "Give up and I'll spare your life."

"And spend the rest of it in some dirty hole in the ground?" Faker scoffed and swiped at his opponent's stomach. "Never!"

At that moment, a cannonball hurled through the window of the lounge, sending a spray of glass over the combatants and beheading one of the guardsmen in its trajectory. Contramundi took advantage of the distraction to take a stab at Faker, but he sidestepped it again and slashed his face before elbowing his opponent to the ground.

"A pity, Contramundi," Faker jeered. "The game was over before it—"

He was cut off by Contramundi as he swiftly kicked Faker in the stomach. Contramundi scrambled to his feet and turned to the door.

"Men! Fall back! We'll regroup in the foyer!"

Contramundi and his soldiers disappeared almost instantly, darting out the door before anybody had a chance to stop them. As Faker caught his breath, one of his surviving soldiers came to his side.

"Sir, should we go after them?"

"Yes, fool," Faker growled in return. "You four, follow them. The other three, go down through the west wing and cut them off. I'll follow you in a second."

The soldiers left the room, leaving only Faker and an unconscious Vinpap in the room. As Faker steadied himself on one of the few intact tables, Vinpap stirred.

"Faker…" he gasped weakly. "What happened?"

"I've played my cards wisely," Faker said, smiling. "Everything played out exactly as I guessed it would, though with more...foreign influence than I thought."

"You will not succeed, Faker." Vinpap mumbled. "You'll drag the entire state down with you!"

"Yes, yes. I heard your piece." Faker finished his sentence by skewering Vinpap with his rapier and watching as the life began draining from his former co-ruler. It nearly brought a smile to his face, knowing that he would not be beholden to anybody any longer.

"I know you, Faker," Vinpap growled through winces of pain. "And I knew others like you. Their ambition led them to ruin, and it will lead you there too…" With a final growl of anger, Vinpap expired, and Faker sighed.

"A beautiful speech, Vinpap," Faker said, closing Vinpap's eyes. "But you must excuse me.

"I have a rebellion to crush."