-1248 Military Hours
-Drossal, Royal Palace

Amongst the various officials seated in the room, I sense the confusion lingering in the air. Talks of disbelief, surprise and more make up the comments in the wake of my arrival.

An apt reaction to the incident that shattered the calm just after dawn, in the form of the humans. One of their aerial constructs, alone propelled by its strange wings, desperately speeding towards the palace with its intentions then, unknown.

The city's airfleet was spurred into alert, fearing it to be the herald of a Spearhead raid. The misunderstanding fortunately was put to a close, never to be repeated.

Having enough reminiscing, I place my hands behind my back, addressing the influential people before me.

"You have my thanks, all of you, " I eye each one of them, glancing over many notable faces, "...for coming here. It is no lie to say this meeting is of significant importance."

"Please elaborate yourself Thellius, there isn't much in that message you've sent. Which leads me to presume that you have secrets that cannot escape this room?"

"In a way, you are correct," I reply to the Minister of Preparations. "There might be a breakthrough with the humans, they have decided to forego all their efforts in hiding their knowledge."

"Any reason why they would do such a thing?"

"I can't fathom a reason, but that is why you all are gathered here." I step back towards the door, keeping my eyes trained on everyone, including the three guards standing outside the balcony.

After giving the door three solid knocks, I step aside, fully expecting the wide swing of its refined wood. The air itself draws to a halt, anticipation filling the ambiance as the newcomers walk inside. Mystery and intrigue hovers over their forms, the differences notable in almost every aspect of their beings.

Vanguarding the way inside are their warriors, dissimilar from the ones I've been accustomed to seeing, but still holding that edge of immaculate discipline as they cast cold gazes all around. They match the reports given by Highlander Inora of the 21st Royal Cohort, warriors of regular stature she places them under.

A different helmet is worn by them, allowing me a glimpse at their features, eyes included, which confirms they are indeed living beings.

"Riley, take the rest and form up along that wall," the one in the lead mutters, the strange consonants given off by the verbal display of their language defying my attempts to inwardly brand it as familiar.

"Got it."

Their eyes hold a firm glint, one of them even regards me with a nod as they take up positions along the walls with well practiced footwork, paving the way for their emissary to step inside.

Dressed in a coat of styled black, the human Emissary Cooper makes his way in. His eyes still hold onto a deeply woven thread of worry, making me wonder again what was it that caused his people to... break their sworn oath of secrecy.

"The influential leaders of this city, as you have requested," one of my personal guards directs a hand outstretched to the empty podium at the foremost area of the room, guiding Cooper towards it.

"Thank you," he replies cordially, showing the enchantment on the translation necklace is working as intended.

A certain measure of uncertainty shows through the Emissary's actions as he proceeds, his steps watched by curious pairs of eyes. Two of his warriors follow him up to the podium, standing at attention with their weapons shown for all to see, guarding his personal space with their imposing aura.

My eyes take note of the three downward chevrons on their left arm, a detail that marks them as different from the rest, having only two of that symbol. A sigil of a leader perhaps?

"To start things off my name is Daniel Cooper, the appointed Ambassador of the United Nations New Eden Exploration Task Force. I believe most, if not all already know at least a few rumours pertaining to us."

"Explain why have you decided to come to us, some of us within the inner circle know well of your tendencies to... withhold information about yourselves," the Minister of Preparations eyes the Emissary with a cold glint, hands idly trapped around one another.

"And forgive me for saying this, but you have black hair, the same as our enemies, so my trust in you is not all that great unless you share more of who you are."

The slight distrustful tone is noticed by the two warriors, despite not knowing the words thrown their way. Shoulders steadied, and caution gathering in their eyes, they shift to a more observant stance keenly watching the Minister for his next words.

Cooper sighs, seemingly accepting the need to reveal what he knows. This is the moment, the wave that will wash away all these long due questions in my mind.

A cold sensation fills the air, in spite of the lukewarm breeze wafting through the curtains, stemming from the foreboding tension of the Emissary and his warriors. A sea of questions burn through the minds of everyone in this room, even my guards I can tell, are no exception.

"We're not from this world, and we badly need your assistance," he voices out, the words traveling along the air like an insistent current. A brief moment of bewilderment shortly follows as the ministers take their time to ponder about what I already know, cautiously eyeing the Emissary several times.

"Some of you may find it hard to believe it, so I won't add to the confusion by complicating that statement. This is the truth, anymore any more questions I'm able to answer," Cooper adds, firmly keeping a leveled tone that must only have come from years of experience.

Sensing the void left by his speech, I decide to step in. "Which is where you all come in, their dark warriors have done us a great favor by removing a Grand Tactician from the enemy's service, so I believe their plead is one worth entertaining." I receive several nods of agreement from the more approachable ministers, the ones that dealt with matters regarding less pragmatic issues.

"This issue should have fallen under the care of her young highness but that as of late, is not possible. We all know why that is..." I say, keeping the explanation from going into further reasoning.

With Queen Ayleth recalling Luculia back to Vost'ria, this matter now falls under the royally sanctioned ministers before me. It is a fact taken in stride by the palace officials as well, casting lock seals on entire rooms now that none of the Royal Family is in attendance.

"The League already knows you are not from this world, that rumour scattered along the city spoke hints about your cold origins. A certain Warden was to blame for the breach of knowledge," the city representative of the Inquisitory League comments, eyeing me with a sliver of accusement at the latter part of his statement.

"Yes, I suppose the fault lies on me. I'll digress to say I regret being too busy managing the war to notice it." Saying it, an easy task. Hiding the annoyance, a slight challenge to put it plainly.

Despite her admirable resolve in getting what she could gleam from the Yhunian Rangers with less than violent methods, the Chief Warden's tendency to declare her achievements to others is one I did not condone, especially for something as... unpredictable as the Humans.

Reckless, but that is the way she is....

"So you already know where we come from?" Attentive eyes cast out a questioning gaze to the Ministers.

Getting my thoughts anchored back to the present, I go back into the conversation. "The Yhunian prisoners you handed over allowed my best minds to comprehend your kind, why they attacked your stronghold, and most importantly the nature of your homeworld."

"We expected that as much," Cooper says, tone regarding my words with understanding. Understanding that has yet to be reciprocated on his part. Putting the thought into motion like water and wave, impatience coils around me like an unwavering thread.

Making the effort to shift the conversation back to the matter at hand, I stand resolute in my words, pressuring Cooper to continue on with a hand gesturing for more to be said.

"Please move along, you have our attention." I take a few steps towards the man, each bearing the weight of my resolve. To my left, a glance of intent is given to the Paledorian Servant Guard.

With a dutiful nod, he weaves a string of energy towards the control jewel centered above, dimming the ceiling glowstones to match my expectations.

The soft darkness highlights the solemn tone of the Emissary's words perfectly. "The world we come from is called Earth, I now represent the highest leading authority for Humanity here. Just over one hundred and fifty of us are in your world." A pang of sadness radiates from his warriors, uncertain eyes casting glances over one another, unsaid thoughts and emotions traveling through the gradually shifting tension.

"Another world? I- we don't understand what this implies." The tone, a disorderly mix of disbelief and scrutiny coming from the far left of the table.

Dressed in the professional silkwork apparel of Euralia's higher classes, the young lady stands up with a swiftness that defies her choice of clothing, a trait made more odd with her questioning brows.

"Of course not," I say with a firm glare at the young Minister of Noble Relations, chastising the lack of tact in the woman's actions. "Settle down and let him solve the inquiries." Seeing the lost look on her made me dull the sharp edge of my tone slightly, the long-serving fangs kept away from use.

Sensing no further reason to antagonize the inexperienced, but naturally good-willed Minister, I offer her a grateful nod as her eyes shyly met mine, relishing in her guilt melting away like snow on summer.

"I was not privy to the reports, so...I would like to ask why is it you are sometimes referred to as the Iceborn folk." A more reserved Minister asks, voice betraying a hint of intrigue.

Cooper replies without delay, a response waiting at hand. "I was not aware we had that term for us. But... given the situation, I suspect it might have to do with the Rift's location on our side of the world."

While listening, I pull out the latest report fastened on my workbelt, noting the familiar initials of a certain scout on several sketches. Once again I look through them, my unyielding gaze quickly settling on a particular one.

Like any field sketch, it is drawn with a dull grey. The absence of colour didn't hide the sheer size of the sphere centered within the vale, easily towering over the angular structures made by the humans. Most important, are the words pure black highlighted above it in emphasis.

A pang of trepidation settles in my being at the thought of venturing through that void of black. What lies within the infinite darkness lining both our worlds?

"Where exactly?"

"An uninhabited continent, consisting only of permafrost and...."

Momentum picks up and soon new questions blaze anew, the answers to each, drawing me in like a receding tide. Unsurprisingly, concepts and words occasionally fail to cross the bridge woven by the Seal Of Understanding, an issue made more prominent by the Emissary's insistence on that orderly way of speech.

The sentence patterns are unique, so formally distinct and human. In spite of possible misinterpretations, I was certain the Emissary's words are similarly reflected in my comprehension of it.

Reports that I previously deemed as unreliable now exist to match the Emissary's answers like a faithful shadow, almost jarringly so. Well thought out speculations crafted over several long troubled nights now are laid to rest, either as a truth or sadly refuted.

"....it's locked, trapping us from the rest of the Earth. We can't solve this on our own, not with the current data we have. My words won't suffice so I'll present this." A hand deftly slides underneath the outer coat, bringing forth an item of considerable oddity.

"What is that?" I ask, slightly distrusting the Emissary's sudden act.

"You all will know soon enough." Cooper places the odd trinket of ornate silver onto his podium, resting the large black lens to face skyward. Arms folded, he eyes everyone carefully, unwavering focus clear as a coursing river.

A dim glow resonates, taking the space above with an ominous cast of blue. An image forms, each moment bringing further clarity. Like a messenger orb, a moving scene begins to play out, the jagged summits of the mountains, strange architecture speaking of a distinct culture, and a sinister field of pure black all rightfully matching this field sketch.

I take a deep breath, preparing to voice out my thoughts with my eyes up in readiness. A look to the Ministers is all I need to confirm most fail to comprehend the importance of the moving scene.

"Since the incident, we can no longer go back home. We came here to explore, to learn what exactly we found ourselves in. That was always our intentions, which is why we regret the first contact. We still are in the dark when it comes to the magic in your world, we don't have anything like that in our own." The Emissary ends, and I read this as a cue to take the helm of the conversation.

"This is their fortress within our world, it resides in the Fredgal Alps. Few, aside from the scouts I ordered there know of its existence," I say, a stern edge anchored in the tone, enlightened by their plight and filled with the need to cater to this no longer illusive mystery.

"Since when?" The ambiguous question, although lacking a clarity is easy to decipher. Hidden actions, unsaid words and the varying tones of a person speaks more than most would realize.

"I knew since the 30th day of Summer, but it goes further than that to the night of the 28th. These instances were met by two of our scouting groups respectively under less than... friendly circumstances." The reports pertaining to these two missions briefly linger in my head, relieving the memories of initial confusion upon reading the words for the first time.

It can be thought of as quite recent, although the momentum of the war back then was remarkably different from now. My armies then were being pushed back, while paranoia hovered over my soldiers, like a curse that can't be dealt with.

"I'd say this phenomenon is one worth exploring, I've never quite seen anything like it..."

Several other voices pledge their support, like a neatly woven thread there is a defined finality in their tones. Willingness to help, if only to further breach into this newly opened source of intrigue.

"That's not all we're asking, we also need water and food. As I've already said, we're cut off from the rest of our world, our supplies will run out. As it stands with the Rift, we have to assume we will be operating indefinitely."

"That can be arranged," the Minister of Noble Relations says, the cordial smile reaching up to her eyes. "You said there are around one hundred and fifty of you?"

Cooper nods. "That is correct." Beside him, his warriors lose their rigid stance. Shoulders slack and eyes now at ease, their curious gazes trace the gold trimmings around the portrait depicting the Royal Family from a time long ago. Back when I directly served under her majesty herself.

"Consider this proposal done, it will take a few days to procure the needed amounts. We will help, worry not."

I make a grateful nod of satisfaction, happy to realize that although the woman was favored to take this position due to birthright and family name, the young minister's heart was nonetheless instilled with a sense of righteousness.

It was a reflection of how I saw myself back in my younger days.

"This just leaves the issue of ferrying the supplies and a few of our surveyors to your fortress. We have the Broadwings to spare, but not the escorts. All flightwings are committed into the front lines as of now. Though the chances are small, a raid is a possibility and I won't allow that," the Captain of Drossal's Airfleet points out, remaining silent up until this moment.

"I can handle it from my side, in two days my flight will arrive. They're able to serve as escorts, we've accounted for every possible outcome."

"Your bladed constructs I assume?" I ask, curiosity peaking at the mention of their winged creations. To them, simply tools for mastering the skies, a concept that seems far fetched to me.

Emissary Cooper answers, tone sounding well informed, "Four to be exact, until then I have ample time to iron out the finer details of this."

"I'll have to see these things for myself," the Captain points out, "...considerable wealth will be on our Broadwings, I'll be there personally as your escorts land Emissary." He finishes, a final look of regard towards Cooper.

"No problem, where do you prefer us to land?"

"The landstrips in my Airfleet's Garrison, it has the space to accommodate four of your constructs. Assuming they don't require a need for housing, they'll be sheltered separately from the rest of the dragons," the Captain explains.

The normally quiet man continues on, after a contemplative look. "After this is done one of my soldiers will show you where it is."

"I would very much like that," Cooper replies.

The meeting finishes at the waning ours of the afternoon, the sun now casting a fading orange through the balcony. The Ministers take their departure, likewise with the humans. Faithful as the turning of a new dawn my guards remain with me, weariness evident in their posture.

"You all are dismissed, I require some time to think," I say, sparing a look to the guards out on the balcony. They stand facing the horizon, ever watchful of danger as their armor shines warmly with the fading glare of the sun.

All three turn to me, renewed attention driven into their eyes. None speak, instead waiting.

I sigh, before relenting. "That is an order, now go."

"As you wish." Footsteps resonate until I hear the doors seal shut. Even then they linger as muffled taps through the wood, until only stifled silence remains.

Everyone has left, and yet I remain rooted in this room, contending with what I have learned.

I close my eyes, just thinking. Taking a sit on the closest chair, a surge of thoughts threaten to drown my sense of clarity. Shortly after, a troubled frown invades my lips, stemming from the plight of the humans with that Rift.

Nothing is as sure as a coming tide, there is no promise that our surveyors will be able to figure out the cause of the Rift's sudden demise. Should the link between our worlds be fated to never be reopened, what will they ask of us?

Nothing of our history speaks of anything like this. The esper involved has to be immense to sustain such a size, on a scale that defies any choice of words. It must have run out of energy, perhaps that may be the reason for the absence of its once vibrant colours.

I am beginning to fear the worst for their kind.

Before my thoughts could be locked in a state of turmoil, the doors to the room open once more. Light steps capture my attention as a person enters from the corner of my eyes, I turning to face the newcomer in response.

To no surprise it was one of my subordinates, a promising aspirant to the ways of command. A common face in the planning room, and an even more common participant in discussions pertaining to the war effort.

"Your grace, the rest of your Lesser Tacticians and Lerusean War Officers wish for you to join them in the planning room," she begins, hands tucked behind her back, joining her idling cape in a rigid stance of attention.

"What does this concern?" Worming out the specifics will have to do, given the myriad of possible reasons behind her act of seeking me.

"With the front lines now seated against Eastern Norsera, we are in a position to assault their staging holds at their borders. It is an option the Black Hand's High Captains are particularly... interested in. They want your approval."

After a moment of silence, she continues on. "They are forming multiple plans at the forward bases as we speak, we only know of this because of a messenger orb they recently sent containing their intentions."

"Tell them I will be there shortly, I haven't had my dinner yet," I say, feeling the empty longing in my stomach.

The aging news of the war effort is slowly wearing on me, enough to test even my patience.

"Has there been any sightings of Yhunian Emissaries? They must know by now their surge assault has failed."

Their forces had a three against one ratio to us with the element of surprise on their side in the beginning of Summer. By now the Federation would realize that advantage no longer exists, forging an unsettling balance of lives equally lost on both sides in any given battle.

"Sadly no, the lead scouting groups of the Prideful Solace detachment would have sent word otherwise. Until then, I believe we should continue to press on, the reinforcements from the Inner cities and Lerusean allies is an advantage that must not be wasted."

I move to depart the meeting room, a frown sustained on my lips. "This would mean attacking their outer towns and cities, we risk an escalation of this entire affair." She follows my lead as I explain.

"If we do that we take away their-"

"We continue this at the planning chamber, I earn my moment of respite after dealing with the humans. And close the doors will you?" I say with a soft tone, the hunger growing ever more evident.

"I will... Spirits guide you," she mutters.

I reply back, "You as well."

In the place of words, her actions speak. The heavy thud resonating behind me is all the answer I need to know this is where the conversation ends.

Trusting her to relay my wishes to the rest, I head towards the western wing, embracing the solace throughout the short journey.

The whole point of the war from their perspective, was for the right to farmland in Norsera's forests and long running rivers. Wholly untouched, and unneeded by us. But it is still our land, sovereignty that has to be guarded.

There is no evil between us, only the drive to do what we think is right. To do what we must, cementing our actions like a single droplet rippling across a border-less lake.

The thought brings me back to them, as well as the reputation they have unwittingly garnered. With each blink, comes a different name.

Iceborn folk, birthed from the rumors of the three captured Yhunian Rangers and their supposed visit through the rift. Tales of a cold and snow covered wasteland they call home, constantly echoed like a mantra by them.

The Skirmishers, another apt term given their warrior's insistence in being sighted within the front lines... and even beyond. Armed with viscous weapons and a dauntless regard for danger, their bravery and skills matches that of any Black Hand soldier.

A final name for them, an official one. Human. Their true name, still scarred with a hint of mystery, and yet I see a shred of resemblance between us and them. Just like us with the sea angels, and elves if they still exist, they can be reasoned with.

Like a returning tide, my faith in their word grows deeper. Especially after what they've shared. There is so much to learn still, I want to know more. Queen Ayleth needs to consider what has transpired here.

The Rift, the uncharted lands beyond. To know that the fate of two worlds that were never meant to be, was woven together into an elusive bond, she will want to see this for herself.

I finish my dinner, decision made up. Eyes tempered with renewed light, I make my way to the planning chamber, intent on both restraining the Black Hand from making zealous attacks, and to forge an urgent letter towards the Majesty herself.

I know what needs to be done.

======
-0131 Military Hours, 17th of April
Tartarus Base

"The first flights were scheduled to return two hours ago, and we've heard nothing since Visegrad's last transmission. This definitely paints an ugly picture," Robert affirms, a glare centered on the digital map displaying the Southern Archipelago.

The tension within the Operations Wing is palpable, stifling to my senses as I continue piecing together all the information I have regarding the developing situation. Brows weighted down with focus, I unfold my arms resting them behind my back.

"The highest commanding officer as of now, is Major Fullerton. But since he's on Visegrad, overall command goes to Meagan Pierce," I point out, shooting the Operations Officer my regards. She replies in kind, expression bogged down with thinking.

"It's your call."

In the chain of command, civilian authority still reigns equal to the military even with the contingency in effect. It is up to her to tackle this situation.

"They detected multiple inbound ships from the other islands, as you all can see here." She says, navigating through the holopad to display a clearer two dimensional rendition of the Southern Archipelago, adding symbols and arrows to indicate ship position and movement respectively.

"How many men and women exactly are over there?" I ask, wanting an exact number.

"Forty six... I know what you're thinking Lieutenant. If push comes to shove, they could have sent everyone back in a single run foregoing any equipment, problem with that is they would have sent a massage in advance if it were the case."

"Given what little we know so far," Douglas cuts in, expression behind the visor indiscernible, "we have to assume the worst possible outcome. They didn't report back, failed to respond to any hails. What else could it be?" He ends with a rhetorical question.

With each second that passes, I am more incline to support the previously suggested operation. If Tartarus wants to find out what exactly is happening on Visegrad Island, we will need boots on the ground.

Looking fully convinced, the Operations Officer switches off the holopad. "0500 hours then, report in full battle order. Two regular squads will also be tasked to this assignment, that's all I can spare right now." This all but confirms it, the green light has been given.

"I'll fill out the logistics. As far as I'm aware there's still enough special ammunition to support your team for this one, the GD-45 is still in its test phase so I'd recommend bringing along an M27 just in case," the supply liaison informs us.

"Duly noted." I file the suggestion for a later time, intending to scrap up a few hours of sleep. "If nothing else, permission to be dismissed Ma'am."

"Granted, rest up these last hours. You'll need it."

Following my men out the exit, I cast an appreciative glance to the stars above, the distant specks never losing their novelty. Up ahead is the residential building, the power grid supporting its lighting system as it wards off the almost overwhelming blanket of dark.

"Shooting on sight will be authorized, this is the first it's been allowed," James mutters over the silence, breaking the tension with a careful tone.

"It's a necessity, just in case," I say.

He pushes on, "Not going to question it?"

I push down a weary sigh, maintaining a firm hold on my voice. "Not now at least, we all need some sleep first."

"Agreed."

======

-0720 Military Hours
-Earth, United States, Simmons Household

As much as I love the silence that comes from waking up early in the morning, it still wasn't the same without him. We used to be so close, in spite of our contrasting personalities. It just wasn't the same without Jerome.

That cynical dork of a brother, I really am hoping he keeps himself safe out there. Wherever he is...

Starting the day, the act of making breakfast comes easily to me. And as I rub my tummy, I am reminded once again I'm eating for two. I still can't get over how surreal... and frightening that fact is.

Life moves on, deep down I know Jerome truly regrets leaving as he did that day. I can never hold it against him, there were many things that changed about him, but he was still that same dependable person I have known since we were kids.

The forgettable ambiance of the television plays out, channel showcasing the latest news from CNN.

"...initial reports claiming that the arrival of UN forces and construction supplies to Antarctica was the result of a newly commissioned high security prison facility, have been dismissed as baseless accusations. Following these remarks the national security c...."

Aside from saying something about the UN's supposed involvement in Antarctica, there wasn't anything of relevance. Still nothing about the insurgent crisis in Africa, which can either be good or bad news.

I let out a sigh, muttering out my thoughts." I miss him."

I love my husband, but this void in my heart left by Jerome... can never be filled.

Idiot better not die on us...

===End===

The memories of our lives, of our works, and our deeds will continue in others.

======

Hello there, I am pleased to know that you have read all the way to the end.

If you do enjoy the concept of my story, you may very well like the recommendations below. I deem these stories to be of my liking, having good plot and grammar to entice your exquisite senses.

1. https://www.wattpad.com/story/207805730-gate-worlds-at-war by TheDrkKnight012

2. https://www.wattpad.com/story/142250328-eodem-a-rifle-and-sword-adventure by StarHack48