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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

SEPTEMBER UNIFIED YEAR 1913

Vera Ignatievna Gedroits

I'll be the first to admit I was not convinced by Grigori's and Maria's impression of the youngest Romanov. The only reason I had even agreed to assist them when approached, was to ensure my dear Masha would be safe. I am not unaware of how others viewed my sexual preference, and have long accepted the consequences that would come with pursuing them. Masha, however, did not seem to give a damn about any possible consequences. It was one of the many reasons why I fell in love with the younger woman. She pursued me with a reckless passion so great, destroying every argument I had practiced against such a relationship.

As the elder of us two I was keenly aware of what fate awaited those like us. Only through my skill, status, and the lucky fact I was blessed with an above average mana potential had kept me and her safe. Masha had no such protections, while she possessed mana as all Rus nobles do it was a middling amount. She had made her way up through the courts to attaining the position of a maid of honor, but this title offered only a fickle amount of legal protection. My sweet brave Masha was a fearless woman. When I had finally caved into her affections she openly and publicly displayed her joy. The Empress and I had a cordial and working relationship. My connection to her is what kept us from the cruel hands of those who found our existence intolerable.

However, the Empress's faith and that faith's view of me and Masha soured our relationship quickly. The changing tides in Rus already put a weight on her disposition exacerbating the issue. It was only a matter of time before her grace gave way to the calls for action. Which made Grigori's proposal all the more enticing. Maria Ivanovna disapproved of our relationship, but my skill set was not so easily dismissed. Had their plan involved an excess of combat they could have found another mage more fit for such a role. However, the criteria the duo had decided on was; a 1^st class mage, advanced medical knowledge, loyal, and unattached to Rus. This reduced the number of possible candidates significantly. I only fit three of the four to be honest. In truth I would miss Rus dearly, after all who does not feel love for their homeland? Even if the people in said homeland would rather see you dead.

Grigori's insistence that this child was going to be the future savior of the homeland was not much of a consolation. We both knew that it would be a very different Rus from the one we loved. Maria Ivanovna, however, appealed to me under the premise that if we did not leave. Both me and Masha along with that little girl would likely be the first to die. I had plans to leave, to escape Rus and run away, but they never amounted to more than flights of fancy. Masha for her part was fearless as ever and no doubt would have met our ends with her chin held high. I had long accepted that I would at some point die for who I was, but I could not accept the same fate for her.

So, a deal was struck in exchange for escorting the two they would supply the funds and resources for all of us to leave Rus. Furthermore, Masha and I would not be accompanying them to Francios, electing to stay in the Empire. While the Empire had made homosexual relationships between men illegal, they had failed to codify the same for women. This distinction would not provide us with the luxury of acceptance, but it was far more than what we would find elsewhere. Francios laws are equal in this regard to be fair, but their views on gender roles would deny me opportunities to make use of my skills. Careful communications from those like-minded as me had spoken of a sort of haven in Berun. I kept myself cautiously optimistic about such a thing, and moreover the Empire's meritocratic culture would allow me to build a future.

I recentered my attention on my new charge who to my surprise had genuinely impressed me thus far. Grigori having access to vstavlya infuriated me, such a skill was something I, with all my standing, had not been granted. Even though I had been present for the act itself several times on a standby. In case the pain overtook the practitioners not once was I offered to learn the technique itself. I had watched military men blooded by battle turn into sobbing messes begging for the mother. The most stoic of the Nobility begged for mercy covered in vomit and snot. Yet this small girl only sobbed softly with the same energy of one of her peers that had simply fallen over, and not for long either, only lasting the carriage trip to the train. If Grigori had passed on a spell, no matter how simple, she would have been incapacitated for days at a minimum.

Her magic potential was incredible that much I had accepted. Theories over how mana capacity factored into reducing the recoil effect of implantation came to mind. I wonder if Grigori had considered what the complications such a potential would cause this poor girl? Perhaps he just saw overwhelming power, but neglected to see how fragile the container of such power was. As soon as the young girl's pain had dimmed to below mind breaking she fought to regain her composure. That pain would not leave her so quickly, but she did an admirable job hiding it. I could feel a smile on face as the challenge of teaching her to use any magic appealed to my scholarly inclinations. She represented the exact opposite issue so many mages faced, myself included, of having a limited mana pool to draw from.

The inefficiency of traditional spell casting without the assistance of a computation orb was often compounded by mana limitations. Most standard instructions emphasize efficiency, and the limitation of mana as the standard for skill. Now what if the problem is that you have too much mana? The spells and formulas once designed to accommodate the absolute minimum amount of mana did not need to account for an excess of mana. Even if I could gain access to a computation orb it is very likely she would burn it out before forming even the most basic spell. Civilian orbs, the only ones I even had a chance of purchasing were even more susceptible to burning out. Lacking the expectation of combat there was no need to build something so robust. Had someone come to me complaining that they had a student whose problem was that they had too much mana I would have declared them a liar or a fool.

Tatyana Nikolaevna Romanova

Congratulations Rasputin you are now tied with Being-X as my most hated of individuals. Twice now that creepy old man had put me in more pain than anything I had experienced. I am quickly coming to the conclusion that if this was how magic worked in this world, I wanted nothing to do with it. Sobbing in Maria's arms was humiliating to say the least and hardly the best first impression with my two new colleagues. Colleagues with whom I would be spending the majority of my time in the foreseeable future. Thankfully the initial wave of overwhelming pain gave way to excruciating pain which I could at least regain some conscious control of my actions in.

My current state of being reminded me of an ex-employee who had been exceptionally competent, and often exceeded standards. She had to resign due to cluster migraines impeding her work. In the latter half of her employment I found her, more than once, clutching her head with tears streaming down her face trying to withstand the pain to avoid another absence. Now that I could empathize with such pain I found myself annoyed at my callousness. Almost wishing I could go back, and find out if our health policy had a loophole to allow for her employment. If this was how she felt I was in awe that she had managed to withstand it for as long as she did, while still performing above her peers. She even had the dignity to resign without having to resort to the more unpleasant tools my work called for.

Whatever the hell it was that Rasputin had done left a larger 'wound' than the last time. Since my experience with the first wound. I found that focusing my attention on it while painful was the fastest way for it to heal. Like exercising on a recovering muscle or healing bone it accelerated the healing process, and ignoring it would just leave it to pulse out pain and information slowly. Better to suffer in the short term to avoid extending the pain after all pain only mattered in the moment. Throughout the carriage ride to the train I spent all of my attention unraveling the noise of thoughts and information not of my mind. It was a spell though its function felt ambiguous currently. My current education in this world had not yet covered magic, or its use so I filed this new information into the 'deal with later' folder. My only two real experiences with magic so far had only resulted in pain so I was not in a hurry to repeat that.

Taking a breath to center myself I turned my attention to my traveling companions. Sitting to my right, Maria Ivanovna's attention was firmly on the map of the train route, comparing it with another that seemed to be a more general country map. Across from me the two women who had been silent while in the carriage were happily whispering to one another. The younger of the two rested her head on her companion's shoulder, quite a brazen display of affection for this time. Hand in hand they whispered unimportant topics, what they saw passing by the window, how cold it might get, what meal the train staff would provide. The younger one took up the lead in the conversation bringing up one topic to the next after receiving a mumbled answer. I cleared my throat to get their attention to the sound of crinkling paper as the woman to my right lowered her maps.

"I apologize for my unbecoming conduct in our first meeting. If you two would be so kind I would like us to start over. My name is Tatyana Nikolaevna Romanova. It is a pleasure to meet you both." Now that my eyes had dried, I put on what I hoped was a face displaying noble dignity. Ensuring I kept eye contact with at least one of the two women during my introduction. My efforts were rewarded with a polite smile from both. Well, it's a better start than being perceived simply as a sobbing toddler.

"It is lovely to meet you little one. I am Vera Ignatievna Gedroits. Would you give us the honor of dispensing with formality and allow us to call you Tanya? We will after all be traveling closely together for quite a while. Of course, you are more than welcome to reciprocate." The elder of the two women spoke first. "You may call me Vera."

"The pleasure is all ours I assure you. Maria Dmitrievna Mukhanova at your service, please call me Masha." I got the impression 'Masha' was very good with children. She spoke softly with her smile, the more genuine of the two. She even brought herself lower so that she was level with my eyes not once flinching away.

A slight huff to my right as I looked at my caretaker. "Well, if we are to abandon formality so quickly, please call me Maria. I would have liked to say you could call me Masha, but I would rather us avoid the confusion that might cause." While her words seemed friendly her face displayed her distaste at the pair clearly.

Electing to move past what would no doubt create a hostile environment I spoke up once I was sure I would not interrupt any of them.

"Thank you two. I look forward to our journey together; Vera, Masha, Maria." Nodding to each woman as I spoke out their preferred address. "Please call me Tanya."

Building rapport with work colleagues was common sense. By building an emotional connection between them I could foster a more cooperative and binding relationship. Being at their mercy to complete this journey I had to ensure a reciprocal connection to mitigate the possibility of being perceived as a burden. Every step I took to increase my perceived value between these women was another step away from possible death. Until I was certain I could survive on my own I had to cultivate an image of both the noble they expected and the dependence required of one my age. I had to work hard. Being X's plan of having me experience war must be avoided at all costs.

"Well now that we are all acquainted, I would like us to quickly go over our roles in this journey to ensure we are all on the same page." Maria softened her hostile glare at the two lovers, no doubt biting back a backhanded remark of some kind.

"Very well. Masha and I are to serve as pseudo guards for you two until we reach the Empire. We also will provide medical services if necessary and teaching services for Tanya while we travel." Vera recited likely having repeated these instructions several times prior.

"Teaching services?" I asked.

"Yes dear. Both Masha and I have teaching experience and knowledge enough to provide enough instruction to bring you level with your peers. I was a professor with several medical publications and two degrees, one from the University of Lausanne and the University of Moskva. While the bulk of my knowledge is medicine, both myself and Masha are also capable of spellcraft and some albeit limited knowledge in formula magic." As Vera listed out her qualifications Masha sported a love struck smile staring as the older woman listed their skillset.

Those were new terms. Spellcraft and a separate concept formula magic.

"So, you two will be teaching me magic?" I could feel my trepidation already at the idea of the pain in my head flaring as if it was a warning klaxon. "How?"

"You can stop covering your head, little one. Worry not, neither of us have the ability or desire to use vstavlya for tutelage." Vera spoke clearly amused by my unconscious action.

Another new term, at least I had a name for that pain inflicting curse. My brain sorted through the stored language and spat out the translation, implanted or embedded. Willing my hands down I once again cursed this immature body. My body reacting without thought made a shiver go down my spine. I could feel my ears heating up at my embarrassment. Breathe in and out. Refocusing my mind and willing my body to listen to me I looked at the two women redoubling my effort in maintaining eye contact.

"Tanya my dear please take this." Maria caught me off guard for a moment as she handed me a small slate and a pack of new chalk. "We do not have the space for textbooks or paper so this is what you will be doing your schoolwork with."

Taking the writing implements I had a strange tightness in my chest. For the last three years not a single item in my possession truly belonged to me. It was always the property of House Romanov, and that fact impressed upon me whenever the staff would drop it off. Even my clothes for this journey were explicitly gracious gifts from House Romanov to Maria, not me. I really hated how much this body betrayed me. As I felt the warm tears slip down my face.

"I'm sorry." I wanted to say more but my world went black as my body had decided I had enough emotions for today and needed sleep.

Maria Ivanovna Vishnyakova

Looking down at my little griffon tightly hugging the simple slate as if it were the crown jewels as she cried in her sleep I felt the same cold anger at my once beloved Empress. The disregard she had for Tanya was such a stark departure from her nature. I could no longer recognize the woman I had once loved and respected. Even when Alyosha was diagnosed with hemophilia, she loved him with the same fervor she had all her daughters. Anastasia, despite her capricious nature, would receive smiles and laughs for her misdeeds instead of ire and punishment.

I could almost forgive the Tsar for his inattention even now looking out the windows. The sporadic smoke of fires no doubt from 'protests' sporadically split the scenery. His outright dismissal of the girl and later fear were too much though. I wanted to push this trip out just one more year but under threat of exile or imprisonment we were forced to act. I suppose this is still an exile even if it is voluntary there was no way I would be allowed to return anytime soon.

"Will she be alright?" 'Masha' asked.

Ah yes, the lesbians. I had almost forgotten. To say they were not my first choice was an understatement but any other name I mentioned was quickly denied by the Tsar or Empress for one reason or another. Grigori's assurance that he would take responsibility for the mages was an empty promise. As soon as the young girl began speaking, his connection to her weakened his already failing position. I had to supplement the favors and requests he made. In the end we had both exhausted our connections to make this happen. The fact that Vera had agreed was sheer luck as her lover tested how long their depravity could be tolerated.

"She will be fine. She has a terrible habit of trying to ignore her body's demand for sleep." I mused reminiscing on all the small moments I caught the stubborn child dead asleep in the middle of whatever activity she had embarked on. "She'll probably wake up in a few hours and apologize for falling asleep."

She was so small. When it had been decided she would not inherit her destined title I had made every effort to ensure she would have as much comfort as I could provide. Getting the stubborn girl to eat enough was a struggle but she was well fed and yet she had grown so little. I maneuvered her into a more comfortable sleeping position laying her head on my legs as I stroked her hair. This little one, even if she was to grow into a griffon, would live comfortably.

"I will not ask you two to change. However, I will not forgive you if you corrupt this girl." Leveling a glare at the two I was met with unamused faces.

To be honest, I did not have any real way to threaten these women. Vera had some military experience though as a non-combatant but that was more than anything I had. As far as magical prowess went, mine only went as far as simple utility spells, nothing that could harm them. A lighter was as dangerous as my magic was. I knew Vera was capable of some sort of body enhancing magic and a form of mage blade. Even without a computation orb she knew how to use her magic as force multiplier to make even a group of men reevaluate their chances.

I was not as sure that Masha held the same proficiency, but she was likely capable of far more combative magic than I. Still for Tanya's sake I had to hold my bluff. I could not let that poor girl stray into degeneracy simply because the only positive social encounters she had were from lesbians of all things.

"You can rest assured Maria that neither I nor Masha are capable of corrupting that child into homosexuality. It is not some disease or acquired preference. If she finds the fairer sex to be her preference it will be in her nature not nurture." Vera replied like a doctor explaining a prognosis to an uninformed patient. Masha for her part tittered into her hand as if she was graciously forgiving me for a faux pas.

I frowned, of course the scholarly woman would defer to science as a shield to her indecent actions. Perhaps women like her were the reason God had forsaken Rus to those revolutionists. Still, she and her partner had their part to play in protecting this small girl. I was thankful they agreed to part ways after we arrived at the Empire. Until then I would have to watch over them and mitigate their influence over Tanya. As the unpleasant atmosphere descended into the cart room. I decided I was done speaking to them and let the rattle of the train fill the air. I closed my eyes to sleep. It would be a day of nonstop travel by train to Moskva if we were lucky. Another full day of travel to Minsk and then we would need to spend however long it took for the Count to create our new passports before finally leaving Rus.

We were not lucky. It must have been only a couple of hours before the four of us were awoken by a terrible noise of screeching brakes and panicked voices.

"Please stay within your coaches! There is an issue with the rails! We will update you all soon!" The coachmen yelled, trying to prevent a full panic and enforce some sort of order.

Shaking the sleep off I opened the window to peer out only to wish I had stayed ignorant. Less than a hundred meters from us the railroad looked as if it had been hit by a massive explosion. The iron rails were twisted upward like gnarled branches and the ties were all but splinters scattered about. Moskva would not be a day of travel but a week at minimum if we could not find the carriages easily. Tanya, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, looked up at me with worry. To think such an expression was possible by this little one. She always tried to look strong, and her crimson eyes did much of the heavy lifting in that department.

"It seems we will be going by carriage to Moskva. If the fools have done the same to the railroad leading from Moskva to Minsk we might have to ride carriages the whole way." I spoke keeping my voice level. It would not do to panic so early in our journey.

None of my traveling companions seemed very enthused by the news and I could not fault them. Carriage travel was not only slower but more uncomfortable in equal measures. The roads could shift from smooth paving to mud shaking the carriage or slowing travel and meals in travel were by necessity austere. This would just be an annoyance for three grown women but a three-year-old would surely suffer. That these idiots had somehow managed to cripple the train out of Petrograd was frightening to say the least. How much more had they destroyed? What else could they have done that could hinder us?

Vera left our coach quickly and with purpose. While the most valuable of our luggage was in the coach, spare clothes, toiletries and travel supplies were not. I could see her calm push her way to the luggage room. Taking a deep breath I reexamined the map for the nearest travel station. Small wonders there was a station less kilometer from here.

"Come now we should hurry. If we move now, we should be able to catch a carriage before they are all taken." Rousing the other two into motion, we adults pulled out and down our luggage to prepare for the walk ahead of us. "Tanya dear, please pack your slate away."

Looking at my precious charge I lamented the very real possibility this journey was going to make her miserable.

Chapter Text

Tatyana "Tanya" Nikolaevna Romanova

I am fucking miserable whoever said traveling in Russia was like 'having your house catch fire three times' was onto something. I feel my profanity is justified, as nothing could have prepared me for just how abysmal travel by carriage was. I've learned horses defecate everywhere and without regard, even in the middle of travel. The overwhelming smell of manure as we approached the post station had overwhelmed my young nose and never left. Making matters worse the roads, if you could call them that were dreadful affairs of mud, potholes, or worse.

Cobblestone roads felt like the carriage was trying to shake the organs out of my body, while the slush of mud, and sudden jumps meant only a few moments of comfort. I don't recall ever being car sick, but the sheer amount of jerky movement inherent to carriages frequently had me either nauseous at best or active vomiting at worst. This must be just as miserable for my traveling companies even if they never voiced it.

Since the bulk of our travel was planned around the railroad, personal or reserved carriages had not been set aside. Food, as I learned, was a resource that was quickly becoming scarcer and as the temperature had begun to drop. The comfortable meals we could have enjoyed during our train rides were replaced with cured meat, black bread or simple soups. Occasionally a driver or way station would have fresh meat but of the dozen or so we had gone through that was a rare occurrence.

To my great chagrin, my old home country was directly responsible for a number of issues in this tumultuous era. The Russo-Akitsushima conflict of 1907, yes conflict not war. Unlike the history I knew the two armies never engaged in what should have been a brutal land war. The two belligerents instead only engaged in posturing and light naval skirmishes with minimal casualties on either side. Further reinforcing the Tsarist belief in Akitsushima racial inferiority.

The Ambush of Tsushima crippled the Rus navy as a first and final blow to the conflict devastating the Baltic fleet. The ambush resulted in the death of Admiral Rozhestvensky, and the complete destruction of the Rus Navy. Incurring the loss of five thousand lives, six thousand captured and total inventory of the eleven battleships of the Baltic fleet sunk or captured. What a complete and utter waste of human capital and material.

This defeat occurred in part due to the international meddling of Albion, this world's British equivalent. Who had provided Dominion with some of their first-generation computation orbs in turn assisting in the creation of some of the first marine mages. The introduction of this paradigm shift had caught the Baltic fleet unaware as the first marine mages ever to be fielded had caught the fleet so off guard as to leave them unaware of the encroaching torpedoes.

Tsar Nicholas II, against the advice of his military council, demanded the total recall of all troops back from the East abandoning eastern territorial gains. They were to return to the homeland immediately, fearing the current military doctrine was woefully unprepared for such a new tactic. Yevgeni Ivanovich Alekseyev, the Far Eastern viceroy, empowered with the authority over all civil and military possessions in the East, and favored uncle of the Tsar disagreed vehemently with this decision. Making public declarations for war as retaliation to the attack used his position and authority to slow the recall to crawl.

After such a humiliating defeat Menshevik support gave way to Bolshevik rhetoric and ideology leading to a sudden spike in stachka's or strikes and minor riots. The recall of military units who had refused to return willingly were met with arrests, and brought back under threat of death. Alekseyev's staunch opposition forced the Tsar to relieve him of command, and only his family connection spared him from the harsher penalties. Alekseyev's removal from command displayed that nepotism was no longer a barrier from the Tsar's whims. Internal military politics found themselves in a fractured state. As arguments about reconstruction to account for this new threat were weighed against personal power. Naval command took the brunt of this reconstruction being turned into sacrificial offerings to the Tsar.

The influx of over a hundred-thousand troops while the military was attempting to restructure itself was a spike of unemployed labor in an already taxed economy. As men of all ranks returned back to their families frustrated at the decisions of the Tsar. Pushing many into the extreme political camps of both the populist and monarchists. A nationwide strike rallied under this defeat was met with a swift and decisive declaration of martial law recalling the already frustrated troops. This reaction made the naming of "Bloody Sunday" an understatement. Unlike the hundred or even thousands presumed dead in the history I was aware of. The death toll this time was easily in the tens of thousands in the course of a single day. Critics of the military and their failures had brought a powder keg back into the nation. This violent reaction painted the Tsar and in turn the aristocracy as a whole as unfeeling monsters.

Economic activity ground to a halt as large swathes of the working population now found themselves at gun point. The Black Hundred, a cabal of monarchists and ultra-nationalist groups, began to rally and grow in power under martial law. This furthered the division in the population forcing even the most ardent of moderates to choose between the extremes. After two years of harsh martial law, Tsar Nicholas II issued a manifesto in October due to mounting political pressure and threats of resignation from his advisors.

The lifting of martial law and establishing of the 'Duma', an elected legislative body in theory, quelled the more violent actors. The cost of this stubbornness was the deaths of over sixty thousand with another hundred thousand or more imprisoned. This marked the end of the 1907 Revolution leaving the nation economically and politically unstable.

Two years of such tensions had soured the goodwill and adoration House Romanov once had. Prompting their relocation to the Alexander Palace citing security concerns. The family, once cherished by their people, now faced continuous criticism further distancing them from the people . Questions began to arise regarding Alexei's capacity to serve as a legitimate heir due to his unspecified illness. This led to internal and external pressures from both dwindling monarchists and the growing populist factions. Tsarina Alexandra, seeking any solution to mounting issues, had persuaded her husband to gamble on one final child. Me. After the rather dour history lesson I at last understood why the Tsar had been so absent from the palace following my birth. The Second Duma had demanded his physical presence for decrees citing claims that misinterpreted decrees were the reason for the failure of the first Duma.

The Imperial Rus Government had managed to twist the nation into a shape ripe for a communist revolution. Even without the pressures of World War I, by crushing its own economy and public image through military mismanagement and ideological decisions. My own liberal ideals and adherence to rational free market practices found little pity for the Tsar and his so-called 'divine' reign. Being X had neither the moral nor intellectual authority to make anyone king or a ruler based on his managerial failures. Placing personal power over economic and societal stability did seem to be in line with his ideals though, a failing manager for a failing nation.

Learning all this new information was a mental blow to my already weakening constitution. This body was not robust enough for this form of travel. The sudden sleep that would overtake me before was often interrupted by jostling or the frequent stops. Poor sleep was making me irrational and overly emotional, adding to my already mounting frustrations. Four days. It was supposed to take four days total to arrive at Minsk. A full month had passed, and we still had a week of travel at best. Weeks if we failed to avoid further complications. The railroad out of Moskva had suffered the same fate as the one out of Petrograd with the lack of notable military response was particularly troubling. My traveling companions were not any happier about these changes of plans either. All three of the older women were visibly anxious throughout our journey. To the point where I could almost feel myself being infected by their paranoia.

This carriage in which we found ourselves seemed to have a calming effect on Maria, which in turn helped to relax the rest of the group. Unlike the post coaches we had been riding in this was a private affair owned by supposed friends of Maria. They had the foresight to know that ignoring the mounting tensions was a fool's errand and decided to join the other émigrés out of here. The Serebryakovs were a small family, just a husband and wife with their only daughter. They were following in the footsteps of the husband's brother, who had already left for the Empire. While we would part ways at Minsk the Serebryakovs were pleasant enough company. They had offered their assistance after recognizing Maria while she was searching for a coach out of Moskva. They had chosen to use a carriage for their entire journey making them better prepared for this form of travel than our group. Liquidating a noble's assets could provide for quite a comfortable journey with excess enough for unexpected additions apparently.

Three carriages, fifteen horses, and nine coachmen kept us moving with redundancies. It was still much slower than the train. Even at the fastest pace, we would likely be spending the next week or so together. The adults had come to an aggravating decision that the children should ride together at least until the next stop. I assumed that their reasoning was so they could compare plans and speak about issues that would only worry children. I respected the idea even if it was insulting. So now instead of practicing my imperial I was trying desperately to not make this little girl with cobalt eyes cry in our confined coach.

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakova

Red eyes. She had the same color eyes as the white bunnies that lived in our garden, but when she looked at me I felt like a bunny. She looked so tired, but she had never acted fussy. Her black hair was a mess, and her clothes held the wrinkles of one who had done nothing but travel. Still she had far to clear eyes, her stare frighteningly piercing for a little girl who looked as disheveled as her. I was a big girl. Mama and papa had said so.

I wasn't scared…

Honest.

"H-hello there my name is Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakova, my friends call me Visha. Uh… it's very nice to meet you." Come on Visha pull it together she is only three she can't hurt you. You must be the big girl here. If you want to cry, imagine how the little one feels.

"It is nice to meet you Viktoriya Ivanovna, my name is Tanya." No fumbled syllables, no identifiable tone, just a concise polite response.

Three-year-olds do not speak like that. Realizing that this was the first time I had heard her speak since she and the other nice ladies joined us I was trying hard not to frown. Promise. Now that I think about it I don't think I remember her smiling or laughing either, but that's okay! I had the bestest and most sure-fire plan to get her not to eat me.

"Miss Masha was saying that she was teaching you Imperial. Is that right Tanya?"

Oh, please don't eat me, red eyes. The raised eyebrow she was giving me reminded me of papa when mama says something I shouldn't know. "Mama has been teaching me, and I have a story book written in Imperial. We can practice together. I-if you want to, that is." I tried to give her my best smile, the one that makes mama stop yelling even if I know she really wants to.

I think it worked. She wasn't trying to eat me and even scooted over to let me sit next to her. Now I just needed to get my legs to move. She is a baby. I am a big girl. I was even twice her age. I am not scared.

I am a little scared.

Okay, part two of the plan is the most important part and could only happen if I sit next to her. Willing my legs over I sat next to her and was relieved to learn she was warm and not cold to the touch I worried she would be.

Placing the first distraction of part two in our laps and opening it to the preplaced bookmark. "Tanya, can you turn the pages please?" Mama and I have read this book together a bunch and she always has me turn the pages. Kinder- und Hausmärchen had some fun and some not so fun stories. I had picked my favorite one and I hoped she would like it. Hänsel und Gretel. Once I was sure she wasn't going to eat me just for sitting next to her I was ready for part two of the plan. We had gone through the first few pages together taking turns reading out lines and reviewing what they meant. Only then I felt it was time to use what this whole plan revolved around.

"Tanya." She leveled a look at me unamused for interrupting our activity. Her red eyes felt like they were looking right through me, and it took me a minute to remember how to speak. "I-I have some ch-chocolate. Would you like to share it w-with me?" I was right, this was the bestest plan as she smiled at me. She was smiling! I wish it made her a little less scary, but it was a start. At least I was right that no girl could resist chocolate. Even ones with red eyes.

"Thank you, Visha. I would love some."

Tatyana "Tanya" Nikolaevna Romanova

I retract my initial complaints. This little girl was no trouble at all. My first impression of her was déjà vu as if I was looking at a more well-adjusted and brunette Anastasia. She had the same natural charisma as my sister without the penchant for causing mischief. The fact she was trying to engage with me instead of crying raised my impression of her. Practicing my imperial, building a potential social bond and getting to enjoy chocolate, three birds with one stone was a fine deal. Sweets were a rare indulgence, even within the palace. However, as my food options have become increasingly austere, they have virtually disappeared.

"Say 'ahh' Tanya." Turning from the book to cobalt eyes and an outstretched hand holding a broken off piece of chocolate. Less like the candy bars I was familiar with what she was holding looked like a sausage made of chocolate.

"I can feed myself just fine Viktoriya." As I went to reach for the piece of chocolate she pulled back sporting an infuriatingly patient smile for a six-year-old as if I was some helpless infant.

"Call me Visha, please. I know you can Tanya, but we don't want to get any chocolate on the pages. Right?" Placing the piece up the piece back atop the hunk. She then held up her fingers showing the residue of melted chocolate. "When I read with mama, she would feed me snacks as I turned the pages too and I am a big girl." I could follow the logic but having a child feed me was humiliating. Sensing my trepidation she went for the killing blow. "If you don't want any, I can put it away."

"No! I mean no. It's fine just don't make any foolish noises or statements, okay?" I could handle this humiliation if the chocolate tasted even half as good as it smelled.

The smile I received from my permission was blinding and I was promptly rewarded with the first taste of chocolate I had in this life. While I avoided common vices in my past life that could have impacted my career chocolate had been one, I allowed myself to indulge in. Never enough to have an impact on my dental or overall health but, I often kept a spare bar in my desk as a pick me up during the particularly brutal crunches that would occur.

It was glorious. Enough so, that I had to make a concerted effort to remember it was my turn to parse out the German folk story. While I wanted to keep a professional distance I would gladly use the nickname Visha if it meant that I could experience chocolate again. Reciprocity was the foundation of social contracts after all. Once she had observed my reaction to that first bite she seemed to visibly relax whatever tension she had. Perhaps she was just as nervous meeting another child?

The rest of our ride together was in what I could only call a companionable atmosphere. Taking turns each to read out the pages and pausing for correction over pronunciation, or explanations of certain syntax, in-between bites of chocolate. I do not have high expectations for children that would be unreasonable after all. Visha had exceeded any I might have had. She was a natural born conversationalist and surprisingly knowledgeable for a six-year-old. Her grasp of the Imperial language was robust enough that she was able to cover basic concepts I had not yet learned.

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Olga Nikolaevna Romanova

I sat trapped in my room, distracting myself by writing yet another petition for medical relief to the now Third Duma. My freedom had been restricted five years ago when the voices of our people were met with gunfire. Vera Ignatievna had taught the women of House Romanov the basics of nursing, and for a brief three months my sisters and I saw firsthand the pain caused by the Tsar's decisions. The injured soldiers who came into the hospital were harmed by the very people they should have been protecting. They would in one breath mock us and curse the revolutionists.

When I could no longer stomach the blood and cries of pain I retreated to office work. The Tsar for all his pride had acquiesced to the demands and forced that Manifesto from him. All those hurt and sacrificed seemed all the more pointless and terrible. One day a thrown stone shattered a window of the Winter Palace far too close to Alyosha. So we ran away to this secluded palace. What else could we call our actions but running? The people were furious, and whatever divine right that could be claimed was being drowned in the suffering of a nation. Each day I prayed asking the Lord what we should do, what can I do, and to forgive our misdeeds.

My once beautiful and proud mother was now bedridden but a shell of her former self. Grigori now hovers between her and our beloved brother, running himself ragged. The poor man looked as if he had not slept in days. I often wondered if she had recovered from the birth instead of falling into invalid state she is in now, if our lost sister could have experienced our love. Some days she seemed to not remember her at all. Marie blamed Tatyana for our mother's decline and had become inconsolable, rarely leaving her side.

Father is all but consumed by madness and paranoia. Being called to the Duma for this or that. After some cruel traitor spread such terrible rumors about our dear Alyosha he stayed away for longer periods of time. I could no longer see the man who once said, "I am glad that our child is a girl. Had it been a boy he would have belonged to the people, being a girl she belongs to us." Nor could I see the woman who so proudly declared, "For us there is no question of sex. Our child is simply a gift from God." In my darkest hours I wonder if the Lord has forsaken us. Perhaps we deserved to be forsaken. How could we have treated her that way and claim we were without sin?

Alyosha, our sweet brother, in spite of Grigori's magic was plagued by his hemophilia and each day that passed his treatment grew less effective. He and Nastya had become quiet after our sister's departure. Nastya herself often came to me asking when we could all leave this place. Where could we go, my darling sister? Could we abandon our people now? After all that happened? I wished I could see the world as she did.

I had so desperately wanted to love Tatyana. I prayed and wished with such fervor that she would be the light we needed in our darkening home. However, when I looked into her eyes I feared that the devil had been born in our home instead. Only now do I know how cruel that was of me. The color in one's eyes could ever match the evil I had seen in others. I had let my nightmares of blood grip me and now she was gone.

"Olya." Tatiana's warm arms wrapped around my shuddering frame. I must have been truly lost in thought to have not heard her approach. Oh dear, I was ruining my petition. Must tears make ink run so?

"I'm fine Tanechka. I am sorry for worrying you so much." Wiping my eyes and twisting in my seat to return her hug.

"Are you thinking about Tatyana again?" she whispered. I stiffened for a moment as guilt assailed me once over.

"Yes. Every day since her birth, and every day since we let her leave us. Nastya came to me when she left, you know? She demanded that I make our parents leave for the Empire with all of us." A mirthless laugh left my lips. We all had experienced sleeping in camp beds without pillows and the cold showers together. Through those experiences we had become so close yet now those hardships seemed distant. Some small part of me took solace that Tatyana at least was warm while she was here.

"Nastya would have had us halfway across Ildoa if she could have her way." Titiana and I giggled at the thought of our capricious sister.

"Do you think she will forgive us?" I don't know if I was asking her or myself.

"Nastya? Probably." I leveled an unamused expression at her. She returned a weak smile before sighing and confessing, "I don't know Olya. She frightened us all, even Nastya. Though she will never admit to it. I do pray for her every day, and I know even if we could have loved her so she would not have been safe here. I only hope she is happy and safe wherever she is."

Before I could stop myself, a question that had haunted my nightmares bubbled forth.

"How much longer will we be safe here?"

Neither of us had the answer and so we both prayed in silence hoping to receive one.

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Tanya is gone. I miss her.

She was always so fun to mess with. It was like being able to tease a baby and an adult at the same time.

Me and Alyosha don't wander together as much anymore. Everyone is so upset all the time now. Grigori doesn't even have time to play with me any more with mom being so sick.

I heard one of the nurses blame Tanya saying she was the devil, so I put talcum powder in her socks.

The only thing Tanya did wrong was leave without  me  her family.

Why did she always want to be alone

Before Alyosha got hurt we almost got Papa to agree on a family trip.

It's gonna be me, Olya, Tan'ka, Grigori and Alyosha. Papa says he has to stay here, and Marie doesn't want to go without mama.

Tan'ka has been pestering the soldiers again about fighting magic. She won't teach me though. I find that most rude.

Tanya asked me to leave. She never asked for anything. She really should have.

So we will.

I can't wait to see her silly face when we beat her to Francios.

Excerpt from the diary of Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova dated Oct 16^th Unified Year 1913, found in the Alexander Palace

Chapter Text

Tatyana "Tanya" Nikolaevna Romanova

At our next rest stop our groups were once again split apart into separate coaches in our now practiced positions. I did not appreciate the shocked looks from my traveling companions when me and Visha wished each other goodbye. After what I felt was an unnecessary interrogation of our interaction. They updated me on how our travel progress was going. Thankfully it seemed that we were on pace to arrive by the end of the week.

Unbeknownst to me our connection to the Tsar for once provided a tangible benefit to us. Traveling within the country required an internal passport of some sort and without it would cause both legal and financial troubles. We, however, had a blanket document allowing free travel within as well as out of the country signed and sealed by the Tsar and Tsarina personally, alongside several other stamps I could not place. It contained caveats to allow for additional individuals to be included based on Maria's discretion. The document was chartered for her by  name. The benefits of nepotism and knowing those in power should never be discounted.

Another update to my cursed experience was that I was apparently now seeing hallucinations. Occasionally with no reaction from those in the coach Vera's eyes would glow as if she had a weak flashlight behind her eyes. Whenever this occurred she would often be looking out the windows only making small hums before the glow would stop, and her attention would return to the interior. I would have waived this off as merely another affectation of my immature brain parsing sensory data incorrectly. However, after Masha's hands emanated the same internal glow when she helped with moving luggage. No one made a comment about that either. These incidents had occurred frequently enough that I could no longer ignore the phenomenon.

"Vera, may I ask you a question separate from my schoolwork?" I asked while cleaning my slate, and ensuring both it and the chalk were carefully put away. We had finished our lessons for the day. The kindly doctor pivoted to language lessons after I had demonstrated my understanding of basic arithmetic.

"Encouraging questions is the duty of all educators, little one. Ask." Vera had proven to be a highly motivated educator spurred on by the abnormal intelligence for my age. Revealing my competency was a risk but the tedium of avoiding having someone explain how to count and do addition or subtraction again was worth it. I had considered hiding what I knew, but the trial of having an adult talk to you like a child about how many bottles of vodka Dimitri had, and using my hands to count was too frustrating to contend with for long. I would simply need to work harder to match the expectations I had placed upon myself. My intelligence as a three-year-old might be extraordinary, but I knew I was no genius. I would be reaching the limits of my intellect quickly without advanced study.

Taking a breath I asked, "Why do your eyes glow when you look outside?" This was a gamble. Truthfully, I would rather have kept this to myself, but knowing magic was real there was a possibility that these visions could be a sign of an underlying issue that I was unaware of. The idea that the pain inflicted by Rasputin may have caused this was a worrying thought. Would I get an explanation to this mystery, or would I be branded as mentally ill? If it was the former, expanding my knowledge of this world would leave me better prepared for the future. If it was the latter, I would simply double down that it was a flight of fancy that toddlers were known for.

A confused look crossed her face only for a moment then a blur of expression passed before landing on her 'patient teacher' face. A blank unreadable face with a slight smile and attentive eyes. She would frequently default to this during our lessons after I had surprised her initially. I knew a practiced business expression when I saw one. My experience in HR required knowing how to gather information from simple questions even if the other party never said a word. A tensing of the shoulders, the breaking of eye contact, or the nervous fidgeting of hands, combined with material facts could conclude non-verbal confessions of guilt for future considerations. Vera's response had told me enough even if she decided not to elaborate. There was a reason for the perceived glow, and it was not just in my head.

"Tanya, are my eyes glowing now?" I shook my head. The moment I stopped the motion to resume eye contact her eyes held a slight glow. "They are now."

 She smiled and began to experiment with my observations asking for yes or no's as she would somehow make several other parts of her anatomy glow as well. Maria and Masha, who had until now been entertaining themselves through their perspective reading material, were now invested in this new game. Masha joined in demonstrating the same odd phenomenon of illumination though I only ever saw it occur in her exposed hands. Vera noted that the glow I saw was not visible behind simple barriers such as clothes as Masha's arms were glowing alongside her hands under her sleeves when asked to raise them.

"Well then it seems our lessons on magic will begin much sooner than we had planned," Vera spoke. Maria looked as if she had just bitten into a lemon after such an announcement.

"Vera Ignatievna, we had agreed that such topics would wait until we arrived in the Empire." Arms folded Maria's entire physicality was used to reinforce the disapproval of her words. "I know Tanya has proven herself to be wise beyond her years, but she is still a toddler. Magic without formulas is inherently unstable. Her mana potential alone could mean even the simplest of spells could cause her serious harm. "

Vera raised her hands, "I am aware of the dangers however Tanya's natural talents may lead her to stumble into such dangers unknowingly. I believe it is best we expedite our education plans before her own talents lead her to harm." Turning her attention to me, "The glow that you are seeing is the condensing and expenditure of mana through spells. Claims of those who reported seeing such sights are recorded only in unverified stories. The latest of these claims occurred several hundred years ago in Albion from then Archmage Merlin. Modern technology has legitimized the concept and then supplanted this sense through the creation of magic detectors."

I cataloged this new information, one I could see magic, two this was apparently so rare as to be a myth, three magic effects were localized in specific locations. I shuddered thinking of what other fringe or useless abilities Being X had cursed me with to ensure I could not hide among the masses by ousting me as abnormal.

"In light of this discovery Tanya, and your mana density it is very likely that lacking the underlying knowledge of magic. There is an increased chance you may subconsciously utilize your mana to protect yourself. For most children this harmless occurrence, for example floating briefly instead of falling after tripping. At worst a child could create external dangers such as breaking glass leading to injury, but the release of mana itself would be harmless. In your case however the act of mana release is exponentially more dangerous," Vera explained.

Oh good! I was effectively a magic bomb that could go off at any moment. Curse you Being X! As if red eyes, hallucinations, and being born into a doomed noble house in a soon to be communist infested land were not trials enough.

"You do not need to look so worried, little one. You are already unlike most children, and we will proactively be taking steps to avoid such an occurrence now." I was not entirely reassured but my options were limited.

"First to answer your original question, the glow you are seeing is an optical enhancement spell originally used to assist me during surgeries. It allows me to enhance my vision by mimicking the effect of magnification lenses. With some tweaking I have been using while we travel to keep an eye out for trouble. Ideally giving us a warning we may not have had otherwise."

Telescopic vision on demand was a novel enough concept that magic was starting to sound like it was worth learning. I really did appreciate how competent my traveling companion was to take a medical concept and adapt it for security concerns. That level of lateral thinking gave me even more confidence in her role as an escort.

"However, all body enhancement or reinforcement spells will be the last ones I teach you. Magic at its core is the application of mana to impose one will on the world through emulating natural phenomena. While the Empire's formula magic allows for more precise and efficient spells it is entirely reliant on their computation orbs."

Pausing for a breath she raised two fingers, "For this we will make a distinction between formulas and spells. A body reinforcement formula utilizing a computation orb through mana allows an individual to withstand and perform actions that are nigh superhuman. A body reinforcement spell, however, only allows a person to lie to their body through the application of mana in an attempt to achieve similar results."

"What do you mean by lie?" I asked. That one word held a world of difference. It was like a contract in which one was either paid commission for sales or compensation. A thousand dollars sounds massive to three percent but anyone capable of simple arithmetic knows just how quickly three percent can dwarf it.

"Applying enough mana to achieve such feats, throughout your entire body, through a spell is both prohibitively taxing mentally and in mana consumption making it effectively impossible. Therefore, most body reinforcement spells cut corners such as choosing to focus on specific locations within the body. If the caster wishes to utilize a full body reinforcement they tend to replicate an effect resembling an adrenaline response to reach similar results. A formula however, through precise calculations using a computation orb moves mana where it is needed when it is needed and in sufficient amounts to impose these effects, preventing most if not all physical consequences." Vera took a moment for me to digest this information waiting to see if I had any questions before continuing. After a polite pause passed in which no questions were forthcoming she continued.

"As a generalization spells will come at a greater physical, mental, and magical cost when compared to formulas. This is why computation orbs are such a leap in technology. You, little one, have a problem that the vast majority of mages have never and will never need to account for. An overwhelming excess in mana. Spells that would simply fail to function could materialize with unintended consequences simply through the sheer brute force application of mana alone. It is because of this Tanya, you must promise us that you will never practice magic of any kind without one of us present."

As a model student and ensuring that I always made a note to display the ideal Maria had for me meant that I had not been glared at by my compatriots. I don't know why she felt she had to intimidate me into making such a promise. The number of potential issues that could occur with such foolish actions were clear enough for me to agree easily.

"I promise Vera, Maria, Masha. I will only practice magic when under instruction." Holding my head high and meeting Vera's glare with the professionalism long practiced under easily angered superiors. This agreement after all held no downsides for all parties involved.

"Then we begin now. With the simplest of spells that has been a staple of mages the world over. Illusions." Vera held out a small coin, a well-used pfennig from the Empire. "We will be using this coin until you learn to cast this spell perfectly, and until then we will not be moving on to any other instruction." Holding the coin out in front of me I watch her mana leave her fingertips and the coin shifts from tarnished copper to silver with that familiar faint glow before returning to its original copper. "Take this as well." Handing me the pfennig and a silver one Mark coin.

"Magic requires understanding, will, and imagination. Illusion however does not ask the world to change as such it is the least demanding of all magic. Instead through mana you will lie to visual senses. Remember that your intention is not to turn the metal into silver but instead place the image of silver upon it. The second coin will be your reference material. Do not spend your time studying its structure, instead focus on impressing the mental image of silver."

Part of me suddenly dreaded learning magic if the instructions were going to be so ambiguous. The Empire took at least the logical position of standardizing this nonsense. How do you lie to visual senses? What does that even mean?

"Tanya, I can see you already making this more difficult than it is. You will have to separate yourself from such a rigid linear mental framework and understand magic by its very nature is inherently illogical. Simple intention is more than enough to separate the action from rational conventions. Now try it."

"What now? I don't think I'm ready for that. I should at least study bef-" she held up a hand cutting off my excuses.

"The fact that you have not once, despite your capacity, used your mana before tells me that you have a default logic-based mentality. That has protected you thus far. Inevitably there will come a time where logic and reason fails you and you will need to know how to use your mana before it tries to use you." I wanted to argue to defend reason and logic, but my meeting with Being X had proved her point clearly enough. What if he decided to use my mana against me when I couldn't control it? The idea of losing my freedom or being harmed by my own body placed uncomfortable cost-benefit questions about my ideals. I elected to default on the priority of survival and the promise to return to reason as soon as possible.

"Okay. So, I just picture this as silver right?" Receiving a nod in response I looked down at the copper coin and ignored the immediate thought of 'this is not silver'. If I knew it was not silver, I would just have to lie to myself first. I started to repeat the words 'it is silver' as a mantra over and over in my head. I felt foolish but then something occurred to me: magic was imposing one's will on the world.

I did not need to lie to myself. I had to tell the lie, not believe it. Something shifted in me, it was like feeling a muscle unused finally tense for the first time. The coin did not turn silver, instead it rapidly heated. Seeing my mana move for the first time was nothing like the Masha's or Vera's. Theirs would slowly build, settle, flair briefly and quickly vanish when they were done. If I were to compare the two it was like a crank flashlight versus a flashbang.

I dropped the coin almost immediately after mana crashed into the coin rather coalescing as it should have. The coin had not reached a high enough temperature to harm me in that brief period but the oxidation on it was oddly missing instead leaving it shiny as if new.

"Well. It seems we have quite a lot of work ahead of us Tanya. Honestly it is comforting to know that there are some things you don't immediately succeed at." Vera held an amused smile which stood in contrast to the other two adult women sporting concern that I empathize with. If the simple spell of trying to pretend a coin was a different color of metal removed its oxidation what would happen if I tried a spell on my body? Magic seemed determined to pivot between being a useful and powerful tool or an outright threat to my life and sanity. Less like a bomb it felt I was an early space rocket trying to avoid being another Challenger Disaster. Endless potential was there only for the looming risk of catastrophic failure being omnipresent.

"I hope this has shown you why Maria was worried about teaching you magic and why I am forbidding body affecting spells." I nodded numbly to her words. "We have plenty of time together, Tanya. I promise that before we go our separate ways you will be able to control your mana."

"Vera, I don't know how you can be so cavalier about what we just saw. You can still feel the mana in this coach. The only thing I have been convinced of is how correct I was in delaying magic training until she is older." A part of me agreed with Maria. Only to be silenced by the terrifying aspect of what could happen if I had accidentally manipulated my mana alone.

"Maria, it's fine. Now that I am aware we can be careful together," placing my hand atop my caretaker's. She had entered the role of surrogate mother for as long as I have been in this world. I needed her to weigh the pros and cons of my care without her worries unintentionally putting me at risk. If she had pushed us to stay in the palace citing concerns about my health to travel, we may never have left at all.

"Well, Maria Ivanovna? I for one, have never seen an illusion spell cause a permanent physical change before. Tanya must begin her practice now, for her own safety. Mages have always been in high demand and that has never been true than now. She will not be able to escape notice of either the Francois or Imperials after leaving Rus." Vera pressed.

"I still have my doubts. Tanya, I would like for you to make us one more promise. Magic is a powerful tool and through it you will be able to do so many things, but I want you to rely on us first. So am I asking you to promise that you only use your magic as a last resort." I understood the logic, while I was uncomfortable being so dependent on others. Relying on the independence that magic could provide was like using an investment fund for day-to-day bills instead of one's salary. Short sighted and completely unnecessary.

"I promise." For as long as I need to depend on you that is. I knew Rasputin's and Maria's end goal for me was to return to Rus, but I had no such ambitions. I wanted nothing to do with trying to become a political symbol for a failed system in a war. No, after we got to Francois the plan was to convince Maria to leave for the Unified States so we could live on the one few nations where war didn't land on its shores. If I could not convince her to do so then I would have to leave her through any means available.It was paramount that I use any avenue I could exploit to avoid war.

"Good now Tanya, take out your slate. I will show you the structure of an illusion spell and we will try again." There is a structure? A smug smile grew on Vera's face. "I hope you will forgive me for such a prank Tanya, but I was beginning to worry my role as a teacher was going to be a hollow one." I frowned but pulled out my slate and chalk. Being set up to fail was frustrating but if I had succeeded so quickly I may never have known just how close to danger I was. Shaking the frown away Vera and I began to write out the structural logic of illusion magic.

There was some comfort in knowing magic wasn't entirely illogical.

Chapter Text

Tatyana "Tanya" Nikolaevna Romanova

It had been two months since we parted ways with the Serebryakov family. Whatever joy I had from no longer having to travel in carriages was instead filled with growing discomfort as the days turned to weeks. It was disconcerting to realize I actually missed Visha's presence. I reasoned it was probably a physiological response due to this inconvenient body rather than an emotional one. I did miss the chocolate she always seemed to have.

Visha had wrangled a promise not just out of me but the adults as well that we would meet again in the Empire. Taking their private carriages with them, I later learned the unfortunate truth that most if not all of that material wealth would not make it past the border. In fact, neither would any of our sources of material wealth. I had been mistaken in assuming our valuables were slush funds rather than budgeted expenses.

Crossing the Pale of Settlement meant passing through a region that had already been suffering economically long before the revolution of 1907. This market failure led to an 'unofficial tax' upon those who were fleeing through the area. Divesting those of what meager wealth they were capable of reclaiming during their evacuation. In an unsavory protection racket at best or extortion at worst. Morals do not warm homes or fill your stomach as such I did not fault those exploiting an untapped market niche. I did lament being on the consumer side though, but such was the reality of a free market. Moreover our 'travel document' was a red flag tying the cost of our market rate equal to the Tsar. A price we certainly could not afford.

Bolshevik presence was growing but since the civil war had not yet broken out uniforms had not differentiated yet. Individuals wearing the typical gymnastyorka armed with rifles formed into groups distinguishable only to themselves. It was these groups that filled the previously mentioned market niche. Their political affiliation would decide the cost of your free travel. The Moskva-Warsaw railway had been untouched by saboteurs thus far. The political factions not wanting to risk garnering the attention of an external power. In spite of this no trains had run from or to Minsk in the last six months.

Count Dmitri Martynovich Solsky was a K-5 noble serving as a State Councillor. Provisionally a chairman of some chamber though at this time he was unable to fulfill those duties effectively. Instead he utilized his position to wring wealth out of this economically barren land through the forging of Imperial identification and passports. As comfortable as his estate was, knowing that true safety was but a few hundred kilometers away was distressing. The new identities would share the same last name, and we would have to abandon our patronyms for the passports.

Degurechaff, the Rus name Degtyaryov converted to Imperial linguistics belonging to some small family in the Ostlands. Even with new names our Rus origins would be impossible to hide entirely better to hide in plain sight as an assimilated immigrants. Maria would pose as my mother with Masha being a second cousin or some other extended family member. Vera had elected to keep her name Gedroits as she had connections in the Empire that she could not draw upon otherwise.

This was a slow process. Count Solsky's new business was booming as the early rush of émigré fled the nation. We were no longer priority customers' as whatever payment the Count had received was clearly no longer the going rate. Over this time tensions had visibly ramped, and I had heard sporadic gunfire and fires getting uncomfortably closer. Count Solsky had once been vetted by Rasputin. Unfortunately this vetting process was two years old at this point. Assuming an employee's review was accurate after two years of no employment history was asinine unfortunately we did not have the luxury of choice.

Maria had voiced her complaints to the Count only to be told "we could leave whenever we wished." The power dynamic between us was overly weighted in the Count's favor, but to his character we were not actually paying for housing or food. Another detriment for our group was that we had already gained unfavorable attention before our arrival at the Count's manor. Maria had grown too complacent in the benefits of her travel document, and had flashed it to a soldier who then demanded double payment for "safe travel." That was when we learned we could not afford to leave. Staying too long though would cost far more than just physical assets.

Thankfully, I did not have to spend this time idle. Vera and Masha took to their teaching roles with aplomb. Imposing ten-hour days of structure split between common subjects and magic. Truthfully, I was happy to have any form of structure. The familiarity of building value through scholastic effort gave me a measure of comfort in the worrying atmosphere. Maria demanded that I start calling her Misha. I could only assume my extended contact with the other women was causing her to doubt my loyalties. While the pair of women were enjoyable company, I had no desire to stay in the Empire. No, I would be codependent on Ma-Misha until I could ensure my physical and fiscal independence.

Despite her wishes for us to grow closer she was frequently busy deliberating with the Count over this issue or that. What time we spent together she focused on imparting the supplement education expected of a noble. Which included learning needlework and some forms of dance. Neither of these topics were of any interest to me. Dance had at least some benefit in trying to connect the realities of this body to memory of my old limbs. I applied myself to her lessons begrudgingly. Recognizing the value of meeting such societal expectations regardless of their annoyances.

Magic was glaringly my weakest subject. Even when I had committed to memory the underlying structure of the illusion spell. Successfully casting it eluded me. It was like trying to fill a water balloon with an industrial water jet. It did not matter if I knew exactly how much mana I needed, or what form the mana was to take. The spell form would be overloaded instantaneously every time. After a particularly embarrassing failure in which I turned the pfennig to slag. Vera swapped my curriculum away from active casting. I could not afford to fail more than I had already. What if they abandoned me because of the danger I posed to myself and them?! While I felt a natural revulsion to magic as a tool it was intrinsically linked to my own valuation.

Instead, we focused on 'ambient mana release' a practice to learn how to limit the flow of mana. A remedial lesson for those who burn through their mana too quickly. Mana held no particular energy preference so in theory its ambient release was harmless. It did, however, vehemently disagree with persisting. Mana on its own disperses rapidly when released so much so that the very concept of mana fixation was equivalent to the notion of cold fusion.

The goal of this release was to limit the flow of mana below the threshold of detection by another mage. This threshold was, as I learned, quite forgiving for the average mage as spells and formulas would concentrate mana significantly more than simple radiation. Going off the water balloon allegory for most this would be like learning how to turn a faucet just enough so that the water would dribble instead of flowing freely. For most mages this could be an uncomfortable process that depleted mana reserves quickly as they learned to modulate their release. In my case it was uncomfortable as the room would quickly fill with ambient mana faster than it could dissipate. To the point where it caused a visible albeit harmless visual phenomenon. Even then I could not feel mana exhaustion as Vera described. Just how much mana did that devil curse me with?!

Vera Ignatievna Gedroits

Lord, I know we have not been on speaking terms for a long while, but could you please explain why on Earth you decided to give such a small child such a volatile amount of mana? Griffon? Ha! Dragon more like. If this child could ever get her mana under control she was going to be a monster. Even with all that power she was so vulnerable to the slightest of perceived failures. Correction in minor grammar mistakes were taken with such gravity. As if her very person was less for such mistakes. How could one so young could have such a twisted interpretation of her value? It was troubling to think about.

I was beginning to regret my focus on the physical sciences of medicine if only just. I was hardly equipped to help this little one untangle her maladjusted values. In a twisted companionable aspect I almost respected her for them. If not for my Masha, we may have been equals in such ideals. Clawing my way as the 'first' of many positions as a woman in science demanded an unorthodox view of value.

At one time my prestige, documents, and accomplishments were the sole source of value of my existence. They clearly stated the worth of my efforts and unlike my gender or sexuality could not be disregarded. While my open displays of affection with Masha were a new addition to my life, avoiding male attention had negative effects on my career. How much more could I have accomplished if I had so relentlessly exemplified the ideal expected of me as this little one strived for? How much would I have missed?

How do I get her to understand that she does not need to strive so for her to be valued? Reality is a cruel place where prayers do not stymie the flow of blood. Morals and ideals do not stop disease from ravaging the body. Logic and reason serve as the sword and shield against the irrationality of the natural world. In the same vein they can be used as a cudgel twisted to fit the narrative you wanted to see. After all, was it not logical that women are unfit for scholarly endeavors? Such arguments that used logic built on faulty premises were held with the same weight as any other.

Emotional labor cannot be equated to physical labor. The resources of love and hate are not finite. It is only in the irrationality of emotion that miracles without the divine occur. Patients who should have died like the dozens of others having the exact same injuries surviving, citing that love or duty as the reason. Soldiers who should have died to their wounds had charged ever forward defying logic.

Conjecture supported by too few cases was not the basis for a new rationality. In the face of the already overwhelming challenge that teaching her magic would be, a new monster sprung forth far more daunting. Masha was the more emotional of us, perhaps I will defer to her in this challenge. After all, the benefit of a partner is sharing in each other's burdens. Although drawing up risk-benefit analysis of such a world view could help support the arguments Masha would make.

Maria 'Misha' Ivanovna Vishnyakova

"Maria Ivanovna, you must understand moving your group is a significant risk for me." Count Solsky spoke unapologetically while enjoying his pipe puffing smoke. "Had you managed to avoid waving that paper with the Tsar's personal signature I could've had you in Warsaw by now living your life as Degurechaff. It is out of my hands now. Throughout Belarus your description has been passed to members of the Labour Party."

We have had this argument for months now and he never failed to shift all the blame for his failures upon my mistake. The worst part of it was he was not entirely wrong. I should have been more careful, perhaps I thought too highly of the soldat. The fear I felt when the man's face twisted into heat upon seeing the names on the document still haunts me. I thought we were going to die during that tense exchange. Greed had saved us from wrath. To think that sins would spare us over piety.

"Your Serenity, surely you understand that whatever risk we pose will not grow less as you stall us. If the Party knows what we look like, then it is in both of our interests that you expedite our travel to Warsaw. I know you are not a moron, good sir. Help as you swore you would." The same argument we have repeated again. He had fed, homed us, and finished our documents but still we were here. I could not understand why he was so pensive about letting us leave. Even when I had offered him what few valuables we had as collateral for the risk he was taking he had refused.

"Ha! True I am not the Tsar! Maria Ivanova, and because I am not the Tsar. I cannot simply wave my hands and have your party in Warsaw tonight." The bald long bearded man laughed at his own joke or perhaps at my reaction to it. "I gave my word that I would get you and your party to the Empire and my word I will keep." A terrible weight settled in the pit of my stomach at those words.

"I see well this has been another waste of both our times. My apologies, Your Serenity. I will take my leave then." Hands clenched, I hurried out of the room before hearing his response. Our agreement was not just that we would get to the Empire but that we would arrive safely.

Maria 'Masha' Dmitrievna Mukhanova

I see what my Princess means about our little griffon. The little one was making some progress in interpersonal connections with the young Visha. Now that her positive influence had been removed, she quickly regressed back to transactional based connections. The use of diminutive names held no emotional weight to her. It was simply a matter of displaying the correct image. She was so similar to my Vera. Pragmatic to a fault without understanding just how much she could benefit from what she perceived as valueless.

It had taken me five years to wear down Vera's defenses and rationals enough to woo the stubborn woman. The problem with such a world view, is that the factors that allowed for any change required challenging the concept at a fundamental level. For my Princess this was accomplished through endearing myself to her in everyday life making me a ritual presence. A foundational facet of her life. All while maintaining the position of someone who passed her risk- analysis mentality by exceeding her valuation of me. Then through indirect and later more direct affection confirmed she was reciprocating to such attention. The last challenge was the hardest for me. A risk-benefit chart was written up to mirror surgical analysis before I confronted her and made the ultimatum.

Love me or lose me. It was a terrible gamble because I knew I could never let myself lose her. Regardless of her choice I would stay but she chose me. I had been with her for five years, pining as she saved many lost few on the operating table. Her intelligence and drive had so thoroughly entranced me with the confidence of a woman who had accomplished more than I could imagine reaching for. I knew my risk-benefit chart would not stand up to significant scrutiny. She would have to make the irrational decision to love a woman nine years her junior. No matter the Lord's view of our relationship I truly thank him every day for her existence and the fact that she chose to love me.

"Tanya dear, would you like to take a break?" I asked, walking over with two cups of hot vzvar and coffee. Two crimson orbs looked up at me holding that signature alien intelligence. For how strange she could be she was also adorable. Let her glare. I have faced trials of love far more terrifying than any abnormal toddler. Besides, I knew her anger was not at me but her perceived failure. Shaking my head at her silliness I handed her the cup vzvar. "Careful now it is still hot."

She eyed the drink warily before taking a sip, and oh my goodness is she so precious. I swear her eyes were glittering! Sweets were this little one's Achilles heel that would bring out the child under all that potential and expectations. Us adults had made a mental note that chocolate would be a consistent addition to rations if possible in the future.

"Masha my love, how do you always make such divine coffee? Surely our rationed beans must be off by now." My love gave my hand a squeeze as she drank from the cup. The trick to be honest was simple but far too common an issue for most. Do not over-boil your grounds.

"It will last until we reach the Empire, I hope. Tanya, are you enjoying your vzvar?" Smiling down at her seeing she had failed to pace herself downing most of the sweet beverage.

"Yes, thank you. It's very good," she responded before taking a measured sip.

So precious. My adoration for the little one was cut short as Maria entered the room in a hurry. Maria Ivanovna never did anything in a hurry. That woman was dignified patience incarnate. Even with her known distaste for our relationship she kept our time together while not cordially at least professional.

"Gather what you can, we are leaving now."

Vera spoke up first "Are we going to walk to Warsaw Maria?"

"If we must." The fearful expression on her face was enough to move me into motion.

"Come now Tanya, finish your vzvar. It is going to be cold outside." That was an understatement, January was one of the coldest months for Minsk. Snowfall was already common, and it averaged at negative four Celsius and that was on the warm side. Walking to Warsaw would be a potential death sentence. Maria's decision indicated that there was an existing and imminent threat. Making it preferable to risk the possibility of freezing or starving to death.

"Maria, before we rush out into the General Winter's mercy do we have a plan beyond 'heading to Warsaw'?" Vera moved to calm the nanny. "I will be the first to support action over inaction, but I will not let you run us into death blindly. A three-hundred-kilometer march in the winter will kill us even with magic. Tanya will surely not survive that march even if we do."

Hearing the name of her charge she paused her frantic packing. "I think the Count sold us out." All of us winced at those words. Tanya was still a Romanov even if she was not formally acknowledged. The prevailing rhetoric was that so long as House Romanov existed the aristocracy could not be truly dissolved.

"The train. They can only stall the lines for so long Imperial trade and mobilizing the army to halt it could cause a retaliatory response. We will follow the rails and board the first train out of Rus." Maria spoke aloud as if trying to convince herself.

"And if the trains never come?" Vera's question seemed to break the woman.

"I don't know," she confessed, shivering. "I do know that staying here means dealing with the soldat traitors. With the Party members who cry out for blood and violence."

"Okay then. We leave, but not now. We'll leave tonight. Patrols around the manor are reduced and we will need that time to put distance between us and said traitors. Pack as light as we can and double the expected rations. Misha and I can manage the water issues. Just make sure we have durable containers, metal if possible." I wonder if my Princess knew just how attractive she could be when she spoke like that. Enough of that there would be time enough in the Empire to make up for our lost time.

We just need to get there, and we will be fine.

Chapter Text

Count Dmitri Martynovich Solsky

"Nyet. Peter Zakharovich until such time as your 'Committee' can agree to overlook my what is mine you will find that those who are loyal to me are not in short supply." This smug drunkard was useless. If he was a sign of the 'new rule' Rus was doomed to suffer under incompetence that would make the Tsar look like a genius.

Expropriation was now the tune of the 'Party.' Rallying under the cry that they were 'returning what was rightfully owed to the people.' Peter was a particularly enthusiastic little suka. Give an idiot a rifle and suddenly he believed himself equal to God. Had we committed to showing those Aktishuma bastards our might, he would've been a casualty to the betterment of Rus. Instead, I was now bargaining the lives of three women and a toddler to hold what was mine.

At least Sverdlov was a reasonable man. I knew I would not keep all I had built. but I could at least prevent it from being violated. Both news and rumors of militias storming the homes of loyalists have spread throughout the Pale. Bastards did not even have the decency of keeping to their own timeline of waiting until February. Far too much fervor and not enough food had propelled the more unstable of them to jumpstart or outright skip whole portions of the supposed plan.

While I still held a measure of loyalty in the local garrison every day it was being worn away. Promises of a utopia, warmth without labor, food without cost is such a tantalizing lie. All wrapped in the casus belli of taking vengeance on those who had caused this whole fiasco. I am reaching the limits of my influence in keeping the trains still. With my counterparts in Warsaw sending increasingly frustrated telegrams, demanding answers. Had the 'Party' failed to secure the factories in the Pale I might have been able to avoid all of this, but now I am in my grave delaying the burial.

I hold no ill will towards the women or that child, but my deal with Grigori was made before there was a credible threat of death by drunkards armed with rifles and bayonets. Maria Ivanovna was a real pain to deal with trying to keep that woman from running off to their early deaths had been a trial of patience.

"Dimitri, friend," the slimy bastards breath stunk of cheap alcohol. "Your threats grow weaker every day. The only reason we haven't stormed your home yet is simply out of courtesy due to your cooperation. We cannot have a child the Tsar leave Rus even a possible child. You know that. Those foolish loyalists would flock to them and make them martyrs." Pulling a flask from his breast pocket he took a long draw. "But my comrade's patience is running thin, and the winter is only growing colder. It would be terrible if were unable to relocate the women and child safely. Don't you think?"

Had my men defected already? Was there no one left with honor? I did not have the time to assess this. If I was wrong this effort was all for naught.

"When?" What a disgusting question to ask.

"Tonight, would be agreeable. That Gedroits woman is liable to stir up trouble if the train were to come without your notice." Ah. It was over then. The train was coming. The last sane way out of this godforsaken city.

"And what of my passage? When the train comes will I leave for Warsaw?" I would gladly let this empty manor burn if I could see my Kira again. To think that these Bolsheviks had chased her into the Empire haunted my nightmares.

"Dimitri, what do you take me for? We keep our promises unlike the Tsar and his ilk." I tensed as he slapped me on the shoulder. "Soon you and Kira will be free to enjoy the luxuries of poverty in the Empire. Together."

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakova

It's cold.

How long have we been running?

Each time the soldiers stopped us they took something. Rubles here, jewelry there, one of the horses, then two, then a coach, a case of luggage. Bit by bit I watched them take from us, but Papa and Mama never yelled or got angry, just sad. Mama said we were a day from the Empire, our new home. If this was all that was left for us in Rus it would be better. All we had left was the slowest horse, the small luggage coach and a suitcase that held only the oldest of my dresses that had been rummaged through and left a wrinkled mess.

Then the thunder started and the fires and yelling. Sometimes it was far away, the smoke trails like scars against the sky. Other times it was too close, loud, and scary.

Men with guns that were not soldiers stopped us and did not ask for anything. They did not want our coach or our horse or my dresses. All they wanted was for us to get out. For the first time since our possessions were taken from us, I saw my Papa get angry. Mama told me to close my eyes and then I felt her pick me up and start running. I heard screaming and guns, the sound of my mother panting as she ran.

We left Papa.

I prayed the whole time Mama ran. Praying that when I opened my eyes he would be there.

At the border Papa's brother was waiting there for us with more soldiers. Not ours, but the Empires. They looked sad and tired. God must have heard my prayers cause Papa was there too.

He limped towards us crying helping us cross over into our new home. They had hurt him.

Why? What did we do?

We gave up so much, why did they have to hurt him?

Is Tanya okay? She's so small. Can she run this far? Would they hurt her?

Uncle Sergei took us to go eat. It was the best meal ever, sausage and bread. I guess being so scared made me forget how hungry I was.

Mama went with Papa to the hospital. Uncle Sergei asked if there was anything I wanted.

I asked for chocolate.

Not just for me but so that Tanya would have something to look forward to. I'm praying she has a safer trip than me.

I could eat a little bit before she got here though.

The door to the room where the guest of Count Solksy had been staying, slammed open spraying splinters as eight men entered rifles at the ready. Instead of panicked screams or the sounds of women stumbling out of bed from the clamor the room was deathly silent. The lead man with a pistol draw swept his lantern across the room showing only empty beds and abandoned luggage.

"Dimitri. Where. The fuck. Are they?" Peter all but growled the question.

"Nobody left, your men have been watching the exits since this morning. You know this!" The count roared back.

"Arrest him. Spread out! They are just women they can't have gotten far." Stomping out of the room Peter heard the familiar sound of a rifle butt shoved into a sternum cutting off the Count's complaints. Suka! You had one job. I don't care what Yakov says these fucking bourgeoisie are nothing but a cancer. The sooner those magic bastards are taken care of the better.

Twenty-five kilometers away three women and a toddler were braving the frigid night of Rus's winters, only just following the now snow-covered rail tracks. Illusion practice had not been just for the little one. While it would never work on even passing scrutiny it was enough to fool two guards bribed with alcohol.

They had provisions for about two days comfortably. They could stretch supplies to seven or so at most if they kept to only mostly starving. The only items they brought were extra socks on Vera's demand and the forged documents.

"Well at least the two of us have a reason to sleep together that Misha can't complain about. What was it again? Skin-to-skin contact was the most effective deterrent to hypothermia? Isn't that right my darling?" Masha winked at Vera; the effectiveness was questionable in the twilight.

"If you have the energy to flirt then move faster," Misha retorted, tired and feeling the effects of mana exhaustion begin to creep in. Her charge swaddled to her back Maria was lamenting her sedentary lifestyle. Carrying Alyosha was the last time she had regular exercise and that had been years ago.

"What's wrong with a little levity Mishaaa?"

Misha scowled, her eyes blurred at the blanket of washed-out snow, the spell let her in the dark see but stripped color and definition from the world, making its prolonged use a miserable affair.

Vision enhancement spells were the only reason they had made it this far without getting lost in the snow and pitch black of winter night. The moon and stars provide no useful reprieve and a lantern would garner attention immediately. Reliance on this spell would only grow once they started being pursued in earnest.

The train was the only real hope they had. Three hundred more kilometers in this weather would kill them. Even when the train appeared it was going head towards Minsk before returning in the direction they wanted to go. Still, no reason to leave it entirely to an outside variable every kilometer they made towards the Empire put distance between certain death and probable death.

Maria Ivanovna Vishnyakova

I was not going to be able to join the little one in the Empire.

The two frustrating women were in better physical shape than me. Vera Ignatievna was only three years my younger. Yet even during the night time marches she never let her pace or spell drop. Even her partner had started to fail over the last few days at keeping the spell active throughout the night. Now in the dark we moved as one hand-in-hand with Vera in the lead. During the day, what rest we could take was disturbed by every sound of movement in the snow, feeding my growing fear. Cracking twigs and crunching snow by the movement of wildlife brought images of men and rifles. It's not paranoia if they are really out to get you.

I could feel Tanya's shivers even bundled the snow and wind bit through the layers. After the first frigid night I elected to walk blind. Trusting our escorts, so that I could use my mana to keep the two of us warm, but my capacity only allowed us a few scant hours of warmth. Spellcraft had not interested me beyond minor convenience. Taking on the mental effort of learning the structure and flow of mana to replicate the effect of a lighter felt foolish when I could just buy a lighter. I had not taken into consideration the scenario in which I would be trudging my way through Rus in winter, at night, over several kilometers.

The Lord willing, had answered my fervent prayers I whispered throughout this long and miserable march. The train had passed us two days ago en route to Minsk. Now seeing it return back up the tracks I felt both hope and dread. Maria Dmitrievna had kept us alive on our now all but non-existent provision, burning her mana. Melting snow into clean water to fill our empty stomachs. We possibly could have held out for a day or two more of marching. Longer if we simply stayed put but that increased the risk of us being found.

How far have we moved? A hundred kilometers? Less?

The hope of the train turned into grim despair. Peter Zakharovich was leaning out the side of one of the carriages. That particular rat had been poking his nose around the Count's manor since he saw that damned travel document. How many more were with him? Was that whole carriage filled with those who were hunting us? It didn't matter, I knew even if he wasn't here if the train had been completely safe.

I was a dead woman, I just had the luxury of deciding if it would be slow or quick. The march had taken much out of me and staying in a state of mana exhaustion for this long was taxing me physically. Even if I made it to the Empire, did I have the time to recover? Was our contact still loyal or would we find another like the Count? I have so much more to teach her. A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. I still could.

One last lesson. One last sacrifice. Grigori, you false holy man. You had better have saved more than this child, or I will meet you in hell to punish you myself.

"Tanya," a whisper from a voice I hardly recognized as my own rasp and hoarse. "Be brave, be noble. Whatever sins these women may have they will take you where you need to go. I am so sorry, please bear with this in silence." Vstavlya what a miserable skill to have but Tanya was so frighteningly clever that if anyone could find a use beyond spreading misery she would. I had enough mana to teach her and sneak in one last dance we had not yet covered.

Enough to leave me with what I needed for my final task. My skull exploded in pain. I could smell and felt blood leave my nose. My malen'kiy grifon bore the pain, clenching her teeth, a quiet hiss as the added information seared into her consciousness. "Я люблю тебя Tanya, remember me. Please," kissing her forehead leaving a smear of blood as I handed my precious charge to Masha.

"Misha. What are you doing?" Taking Tanya in her arms the younger woman hissed, leveling a rare look of concern for me.

"Giving you three a chance to finally leave Rus," looking the two women in their eyes, "Vera, Masha thank you. Once they are distracted, make your way onto the train. Hide in between the coaches if you must." Standing up from our hiding nook with a slight wobble I began to make my way towards the slowly approaching train.

"Maria Ivanovna, you are a difficult woman to find. I will say I am impressed. Seventy kilometers is no small feat. If my men were half as resourceful as you, I wouldn't have spent the last few days sober. Now where are the rest of you or rather the child?" Peter called out stepping off the coach pistol leveled at her.

I kept my unstable journey towards the train. Being shot at this point might help distract me from the pain in my skull. The crunch of snow beneath my feet reverberated in my head.

Alexandra, my dear friend, are you well?

Step

Nicholas, you loving fool, did you save any of your family before the nation burned?

Step

Olya, are you keeping yourself and the others calm?

Step

Tanechka, have you taken charge as you once did?

Step

Nastya, do you still bring smiles through your mischief?

Step

Alyosha, my sweet boy, are you still strong even now?

Step

"Now Maria, that's close enough. Comrades get out here! They are either close or corpses. Maria, darling if you would just get on your knees this can be painless." Peter barked out orders, pulling out his flask for a quick sip.

Closing my eyes I pulled at my mana. It was a weak thing but there was enough. Mana abhorred being forced to persist seeking only to coalesce in the moment of execution. Compress and hold. Keep it from writhing and dispersing.

I see now why this was only done by the most desperate of mages. The raging mana started to push against my body seeking somewhere to scatter.

"On. Your. Knees. Are you deaf woman?" Peter squawked as I moved closer, the sounds of additional boots and shoes dropping into the snow with the rhythmic clacks of the train.

Ah, my bones were burning.

What was that one imperial theory, something e equal to m? I do not believe I have the mana for something that dramatic, but I can at least take this rat to hell with me.

CRACK

Pain, less than the burn of mana radiated from my stomach.

That bastard shot me!

A tentative unstable step forward. Good, my feet still moved as warmth seeped out and cold slipped in from the wound. It was a small consolation that shock would keep the pain from stopping me.

"Peter. Here is your last chance to repent."

"Blyat! Your fuckin crazy."

CRACK-ZVIP

Something whizzed by my ear.

Stumbled steps moved away from me and then a thud. Yells from voices I did not recognize demanding I stop, don't move, back away, put my hands up, and kneel all at once. The racking of rounds into rifles.

Click clack click clack. The train was still moving.

"I hope for your sake Peter. The Lord will forgive you. For I will not."

Opening my eyes I was greeted with visages of fear; Peter was on the ground holding his pistol towards me as if it were a cross. Looking at the collection of men in front of me some in the traditional gymnastyorka others in a mish mash of uniform and general attire, rifles pointed. The now violent collection of mana demanded release. My bones seared my muscles, my blood boiled, each breath scorched my lungs and throat, trading flesh for fuel.

"God is good." After all, without his grace could I have made it this far? "Lord forgive me, I give my life for hers."

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Train P1014 on January 11^th, 1914 experienced an unexpected loss of coaches 1014-8 and 1014-9 enroute to Warsaw from the Minsk railway station; thankfully no passengers were in these coaches at this time.

This accident was attributed to a poorly installed gas heater leading to a large combustion event. Railway maintenance countered stating that a natural gas burner regardless of installation could not produce an explosion with sufficient force to cause the damage display. Further scorching indicates that the explosion originated externally from the coaches rather than internally as suggested.

Eyewitness accounts mention a collection of possible irregular militia leaving coach 1014-2 several minutes before the explosion. Though no one was able to describe what was the cause of the explosion. None of the eyewitness accounts describe any explosive devices or military equipment capable of such devastation.

Due to political considerations and the lack of motive or bodily harm as well as generous compensation for loss of said coaches, railway administration is unwilling to attribute malice to the Rus people for this unfortunate event. Personnel are to be reminded that personal conjecture is not to be presented as official statements.

Excerpt of the P1014 accident report from the Königlich Preußische Staatseisenbahnen

Chapter Text

Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 3

Even seven days later. Misha's death is…upsetting for several reasons. All my efforts were reduced to literal ash. Her actions were the only reason we arrived at the Empire at all, and yet every fiber of my being hates them. Tanya's physiological attachment to Misha was difficult to untangle from my own thoughts. The emotional and physical responses to losing said attachment clashed with my reason. Being the primary caretaker of Tanya for the last three years has contaminated my thoughts regarding our contractual relationship. Don't get me wrong. Misha was pleasant company, but I have always been prepared to abandon her if she were to place an unacceptable risk to my survival. At least I believed I was.

Losing Misha further cemented just how powerless I was.  All my plans to run off to the Unified States if a war were to break out are gone. While I hadn't neglected my relationship with Vera or Masha, unlike Misha they had no reason to depart from their original plans based on my whims. Moreover, the two of them had very compelling arguments as to why they would remain in the Empire. That devil's words rang in my head, "You will come to know war." I doubt that bastard considered being hunted by revolutionaries as war. The Empire was perfectly placed to be the center of this world's first world war. The problem was there was no way to convince anyone of this. After all, a world war is the most irrational of outcomes. Who would believe me?

Vera and Masha also have no capital investment in me, and I was not their employer. Misha and Rasputin had the promise of unrealized capital appreciation that I could use as a certainty to my well being. If possible, I would have preferred no one had died, but if it had been one of the other two women that would have left me in a far better position for my future. Both of them had promised to raise me and keep me safe in the Empire but verbal contracts are hardly binding. If I became a burden they could abandon me in an orphanage somewhere.

I, Tanya, were grateful for her actions. But why? Why had Misha done that? Logically I know that was the fastest way to ensure my safety and transport to the empire. Yet, I could not rationalize her reasoning. Survival was tantamount for any human surely. Regardless of her initial investment, if I was her I could not see what value I held that was worthy of her life. I certainly could never do something so foolish as committing suicide for another. So why? I cannot bring myself to conclude she was an irrational or foolish individual. The mere thought of such conclusions infuriates me. No, I am missing something.

Before her final act Misha had left me with many frustrating questions. Vstavlya was a mess of a gift. Not to mention that because of my relationship with mana I may never be able to even utilize it. It was also old. Very old. While the wound healed it was unlike my previous interactions with the spell. The burning tender feeling I had expected was surprisingly absent from the spell. In fact, the only information that had that familiar pain was Misha's dance lessons. The dance lessons reached out and made connections with my mind and body that were at odds with my smaller proportions.

Vstavlya on the other hand felt unnatural. No worse it felt familiar. Was this another of Being X's failed attempts to promote his product? Based on my magic lessons this spell could only be called a miracle. My initial dislike of the spell now is even more justified.  Only a devil like him could create something so revolutionary only to make it entirely unpalatable for the average consumer. Did he not have a QA team?

It broke all the rules I had been taught. Not even scientists in my era had fully figured out the human brain. The language of the spell was only decipherable because of its nature. The words and structures were archaic as if a proto version of the language I understood now. Placing this spell's origin even a few hundred years earlier there was no way humans in that era could have a significant enough understanding of neurology to allow for informational transfer via the application of mana.

The instructions for the spell were incredibly simple. Think about the information you want to pass on, make physical contact with the recipient, and apply mana. That's it. With the amount of effort it takes to replicate a lighter, this flew in the face of formula and spellcraft theory. That is probably the reason for the recoil effect. Whatever loophole Being X used to allow for its effect was poorly implemented. That last step also meant that until I could ensure absolute control over my mana the spell was useless to me. I couldn't even use it as a leverage asset to convince Vera to move to the Unified States before it was too late.

Every aspect of Misha's death had left Tanya unhappy. The warmth and food we enjoyed felt hollow. I should be at least a little happy. After all, I am finally free of that communist frozen hellscape. We had even put several hundred extra kilometers between us and them. Thankfully the trains in the Empire ran unmolested, and Vera had proven rather resourceful in the gathering of marks for expenses. Entering the Empire was surprisingly easy, no questions about who we were or why we were there. We had exited the train, mostly ignored as the missing coaches had garnered the most attention. Masha was interviewed about what she thought happened to which she repeated the same story of other passengers about a possible gas explosion.

The Gasthaus we were staying in was warm and clean even in this winter period. Vera's medical knowledge had given us several warm welcomes in the rural areas, more than once reducing the cost of vollpension. Lots of sausage. Coffee was a common breakfast beverage much to Vera and Masha's delight and my vexation.  I had hoped that a deterrent to the random sleeps that plagued me was now available only to be told that I "was not old enough". Recently even in the comfort of dry and warm beds my sleep has been plagued by nightmares.  Nothing decipherable, just the sense of being chased, cold, hungry, and alone.

"Tanya, staring at your bread is a rather ineffective method of consumption." Masha smiled at me. It was a weak smile; the march out of Minsk had taken a toll on the woman. The color was just starting to come back to her cheeks. Entering the Empire we must have looked every bit the part of refugees. Split and cracked lips, heavy eye bags, sunken cheeks, starved and bedraggled.

"Sorry Masha. I was lost in thought." Picking up the dinner roll and biting into it I felt a burning hate of communism grow in me. I had always held their ideology in disdain; the very foundation of it was anathema to me.  Now experiencing what it was like to be truly cold and hungry. Any human who willingly inflicts that on others deserves death.  Knowing that such acts were not only probable but almost certain was further proof that Being X was not God.

"Well, I have some good news for you then. Perhaps it will help take your mind on whatever had you glaring at your dinner roll as if it had insulted you. Do you remember your friend Visha who we met on the way to Minsk?"

Visha? I mean she was the only other child who I spoke with, but friend seemed a bit much.

"Yes, I do. Why?"

"As fate would have it the Serebryakov family has a homestead in Posen. I am a woman of word, and I promised the young Visha we would visit. We will be staying with them for a while as well. Ivan Petrovich, Anna Antonovna as well as Visha will also be joining us on our trip to Berun when the winter passes." Sipping at her coffee, she had given me something else to think about.

 While I would be the last person to argue against fulfilling a contract. Was a promise to a child really that important? Actually, ignore that thought, if Masha was that serious about promises to children I should use that to my advantage.

"Will they be staying in the capital as well?" Vera's connections in the Empire were apparently collected in Berun.  For all her medical skills I worry that her employment options will drop entering the city. Lack of supply was allowing her to skirt bureaucratic issues while we were in the country. In the capital medical practice is likely to be far more regulated and even in my own world not all education was seen as equal. Without the funds to go to school for a third time I hope her references were enough.

"I'm sorry Tanya, your time with Visha will be limited but I'm sure she will visit often. When Ivan and I last spoke his plan was to head to Berun to pick up a return on an old investment. As they have family out here I doubt they will want to stay too far from them." Reaching out and wiping crumbs from my face I had missed. I need Tanya to grow faster. This humiliation is going on for too long.

"Now go get cleaned up after Vera returns we will head out okay?" Lifting me from the chair and onto the floor I gave her a nod and went to clean up what little we had brought with us.

Maria Degurechaff

Really now Tanya needs to stop trying to keep such a brave face. For God sakes Misha you sacrificed everything for this girl and the only time she cries is when she thinks we aren't watching. What are we supposed to do Misha? Every time I feel like we are having a breakthrough she regresses back. When we finally got you to spend time with Tanya rather than screaming at the count. The little girl would laugh and smile while you danced. The moment you stopped she would put her mask back on but in those brief moments she got to be a three-year-old. Visha is a sweet girl but our promise was to spare her parents grief more than anything.

The original travel plan for Tanya was that the two of them go straight from the Empire to the Republic as fast as Lev Isaakovich could move them. Neither I nor my darling have any connection to the man and based on our last contact the plan is scrapped. I doubt Vera would leave Tanya alone with the man, but I absolutely would not. Misha said we would take her where she needed to go, and as far as I was concerned that was at our side until she could go on her own.

Misha was supposed to be the mother, not me. Still I did not agree entirely with Misha about Tanya being a grifon. She was a precocious child that had become so dear to me, not some mythological creature. No doubt a psychologist or philosopher would draw parallels with her similarities with my dearest. If that is the case being partial to the fairer sex who display unimaginable potential then I will thank the lord for his unknowable design. No Misha. She will return to Rus only if she wishes to. I will miss the rolling hills of white that give way to fields of emerald green in the summer of my homeland. After our midnight hikes however, I was happy to keep my memories of my homeland just that. Especially as news of the civil war came across the border.

The Serebryakov homestead was one of the many farms that dotted the lands of Posen growing rye or some such for the local grist mill. Sergei Petrovich and his family had moved to the Empire before the strikes first started in earnest. Unlike the rest of the now flooding émigré entering the Empire, or other neighboring nations, he had managed to bring in a sizable amount of starting funds.  While the work he found was not prestigious it was consistent and paid for the land and his family owning one of the local windmills.

"Moya dusha, have you been working too hard?" Kissing my love on the cheek and smiling as the tired woman still blushed over my displays of affection.

"Maria, behave. We are visiting guests, and no the work has been simple. Thankfully I am not being asked to perform surgeries, just simple care or diagnostic services. The sooner I can get my hands on a computation orb the sooner I can expand my services." In contradiction to her words she grabbed my hands and pulled me close as we walked up the road to the residence.

"Are you both certain that you will not get in trouble?" Tanya's need for independence did not agree with her bodies' ability to move so I was carrying her again.

That was a fair question during our initial meeting with the Serebryakovs. Vera and I had been rather reserved in our affections. The standard stance of our relationship was distaste at best or 'righteous' anger at worst.  The Lord's word did not specifically hold disdain for lesbians but under the blanket of homosexuality the end result was outright rejection regardless.  My darling answered before I could put together a compelling response.

"We will tone it down in front of company that are not amenable to such things, Tanya. However, the average person will assume that Masha and I are nothing more than very close friends. Your question is why we are going to Berun, or rather Schöneberg."

"What's in Schöneberg?"

"Company who are more receptive to relationships like mine and Masha's."  Vera's friends and pen pals she had made during her time in the Waldstatte Confederacy had congregated in Schöneberg. It was a small burgeoning gay haven. Igel had been boasting about her achievements in the region for a while now to my love.

Knocking on the door to our surprise it was little Visha who answered first. Cobalt eyes met crimson and the little girl's blue eyes filled with tears.

"TAnyaAaa!" That was all she got out before breaking down into sobs.

The three of us were not prepared for a sobbing child. Tanya reacted first, tapping me and motioning to be put down. I obliged.

"Visha. What's wrong?" The toddler walking up to the crying girl felt contrary to their ages. Tanya's attempt to quell the girl's tears were hindered by how she was clearly unsure of how to proceed. Visha for her part latched onto her like a bear trap. For the first time in weeks Tanya looked like her age again.

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakova

Tanya was safe. She looked so sad when she first came by. I couldn't believe it and acted like such a baby. I even forgot to give her the chocolate I had been saving for her after I was done crying.

The adults all had their boring conversation while I showed Tanya my room. Vadim and Pavel were scared of Tanya but that's okay.  I don't hate my cousins but we don't get along very well. They don't understand what happened to and in Rus. Saying they don't know why we don't want to go back and how they missed their old home.

Maria Ivanovna didn't make it. I don't know how I feel about that. Scared? Sad? Both?

Tanya is less scary to me now. She's still a little scary but her red eyes look so tired. The piercing stare is gone. Instead, her gaze is fuzzy like she can't pay attention even when I know she is. I know she misses Maria but she doesn't know how to show it. For such a smart girl she acts really silly sometimes. She didn't even want any of the chocolate I saved for her so something must be really bothering her.

"Tanya, do you want to practice dancing?" From the look on her face that was not a question she was expecting. I didn't know her eyes could get so wide. "You don't seem to be enjoying the dolls so why not?"

"I…Well it is better than dolls. What dance?"

"How about the Waltz? I want to practice leading." A scowl appeared on the younger girls' face but really until she grew, she would be following for a while. "Or we could practice the Mazurka, which is always fun!"

"Where are we going to get the music to dance to? Unless you plan on us dancing in silence."

"Dyadya Sergei has a piano! Tyotya Katya can play for us. Come on!" Grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the parlor. I had to move fast before Tanya changed her mind. She could be really stubborn if given the chance. "Okay stay here I'll be right back."  Leaving her in the parlor before running off to Uncle's office and knocking at the door.

"Visha? Can I help you?"  Aunt Katya asked, answering the door after a moment.

"Tyotya Katya, can you play the piano for me and Tanya? We want to practice dancing."

Looking back into the office she whispered something to the others before smiling at me. "Of course, Visha. Come along, is Tanya in the parlor?" I nodded as she took my hand leading me to the room.

Tanya looked lost waiting alone in the parlor as we entered. The parlor was a flattering name for the space, holding a bookcase, a well-used seating bench with pillows, just enough room for two people to dance, and a piano. The parlor rooms I remembered were much larger but we could dance here, and Aunt Katya loved to play for me and mama. I felt Aunt Katya's hand squeeze mine as Tanya's scarlet eyes contacted hers.

"Tyotya. We want to practice our Mazurka, is that okay?" Letting go of her hand moving over to Tanya. I knew they were scared of her, but she was just a little girl even if she was a little weird. She would never be as scary as the soldiers that chased us. "Do you remember the steps, Tanya?" I asked, leading her to the center of the room. We would have to keep a tight circle, but we should be able to go through most of the steps.

Aunt Katya snapped out of her pause before making her way over to the piano. "Will Tanya be able to keep up with you Visha? You and Anna have been practicing for a while now."

Looking back at her with a beaming smile. "Tanya is a fast learner. You'll see!"

The waltz was fun, but I really enjoyed the freedom in Mazurka. To glide, stomp, twirl and leap. The first notes of the piano filled the room as we bowed to one another. Taking her hand in mine, her hazy gaze began to focus as we began to bound through the first steps. Tanya really was a fast learner, and she had grown a little since we last saw each other. The first pivot she almost fell as we had to turn early but she adjusted quickly. Leading was new but very fun though I think I prefer following.

Tanya's crimson eyes stayed glued to mine. I don't know if she was aware that she was smiling as I started incorporating more complex steps into our dance in time with the music. As the music reached its peak we twirled and spun throughout the small room. It was a good thing she was light as I got to perform my favorite part of the dance when me and mama practiced. During one of the spins, I lifted her off the ground and was rewarded with her giggles. For such a serious little girl she had a really good laugh.

The piano slowed and stopped as Tanya and I finished our dance. My cheeks hurt from smiling and I was sweaty but that was so much fun. "Can we do another dance, Tanya?"

Tanya may have grown a little, but she was still very little. I didn't know how long she could dance like we had.  "One more but it'll have to be slower than that. I'm sorry to say my endurance is a bit lacking, Visha."

"We can Waltz! Please Tyotya." Looking back at my aunt who just shook her head and smiling.

"It's no problem, Visha. I am happy to play for as long as the two of you wish to dance. Now are you ready?" I hope seeing Tanya have fun lets Aunt Katya see past her scary eyes.

Once more the piano began and Tanya and I began slow twirls and pivots around the room. Arm in arm her eyes held that same piercing stare only for it to start to wobble. Her smile grew fragile before melting into a frown. I started to stop only for her to pull me back into the pivot.

She didn't want to stop so I wasn't going to. Even as she cried. At some point she had started to lead her steps and movement shifted like I was dancing with a practiced stranger. As Waltz No.2 came to a close, slower was not what we had finished. Both of us were tired out and I was more than a little dizzy from all the spins. Tanya wiped her eyes and sniffled before speaking.

"Thank you Yekaterina Vasilyevna for the music and thank you Visha for dancing with me. It really helped." She yawned looking sheepish and before adding, "It seems I need a nap after such exertion. Would you mind if I rested here?" She looked better now. I hope she meant it when she said I helped her.

Aunt Katya looked bemused at the odd three-year-old. "Of course, Tanya. Please make yourself comfortable. I'll let Vera and Maria know where you are."

While Tanya slept you could almost forget how scary she could be.

Tanya Degurechaff

Age:11

Almost eight years since that embarrassing display in the Serebryakov homestead. Visha or I would visit one another when our caretakers' schedules lined up. This unfortunately was a rare occurrence still we met at least once a year. It had been a few months since our last meeting and I found I missed Visha. My emotional control had grown much greater as time passed though changing genders was still a challenge. Though even now Misha's death is a sore spot for me. The dancing helped link something between me and Tanya and I don't know how I felt about the change.

My body stopped feeling like it wasn't mine though I still would rather have my old one. I could move how I wanted now at least. The muscle memory of my old body is now forgotten. Another change is that my magic became more pliable. It was still unruly but unlike before it truly felt mine rather than an alien resource. My magic lessons were starting to produce viable results. Spell structures had to be shifted or remade to account for the inevitable overflow, but now simple illusions and phenomenon were within my grasp. Internal magic was still off limits, but I was certain that in a few more weeks I could be relatively confident that I wouldn't kill myself with my own magic.

The last seven years have been a mix of ups and downs. Between living in shared quarters while Vera looked for work, to me being completely rejected by most public Lyzeums because of my eyes and religious superstition. If it had not been for the education provided by Masha and Vera I would have been dreadfully behind. Next year would be my first year in a proper school now that there was enough income to pay for a private school. As most of the public schools had strong ties to the church, private, more secular options were my only real choice. My height unfortunately had not kept pace with Visha. I worry that the late-night marches in the winter or my diet during the travel may have had a stunting effect. Even compared to when I last saw her, she was at least two heads taller than me.

Our new apartment was rather luxurious for the city, having two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, parlor, and a dining area. Vera's employment at Charité was proving very lucrative. Her publications had made their way to the respectable hospital and were viewed highly enough to get her foot in the door. As it would turn out Vera had an accredited degree from the Waldstatte Confederacy which was accepted in the Empire. In turn she was able to pull Masha in as a nurse further increasing the household's income. Still, it was an apartment. If the entire Serebryakov clan was coming it was going to be a bit of a squeeze for us all.

"Tanya! Hurry darling, the Serebryakovs will be here soon." Masha called out from the kitchen. Vera was still at work, but her shift should end soon enough for us to all be together.

"Coming!" I yelled out from the bathroom before giving myself one finally once over.

Waist length raven black hair tied into a ponytail juxtaposed with almost translucent pale skin and striking crimson eyes. Being X you bastard did you really have to make me resemble a vampire? I was, unfortunately, going to grow into a very pretty girl judging how my sisters and mother appeared. A scowl stared back at me thinking about how I was going to navigate being a spinster for the rest of my life. Maybe I could enter into a marriage of convenience? That's far enough into the future that I will cross or burn that bridge when I get to it. Turning from the mirror, thankful that Vera and Masha had allowed me to dress in simple dresses.Though I missed the comfort of pants, I heard a knock at the door.

I could hear the door open but none of the sounds of greetings or simple pleasantries. Then, a scream I doubt I will ever forget. It was Masha. She screamed something and then the sounds of wood on flesh and bone. Turning the corner down the hall I saw two men standing over Masha on the floor, blood pooling from her head. They had builds that only came from a life of physical labor; one held a cricket bat blood dripping off it. I felt my chest tighten forgetting how to breathe as adrenaline dumped into my body.  No words came forth. I couldn't even scream and then one of the men kicked Masha in the stomach.

"That was for Peter cyka." Who's Peter? Why are you hurting her?

"Stop." The words left my mouth before I could think. "Why are you doing this?" My heartbeat was pounding in my ears. The two men now had their attention on me. They were Rus. Were they refugees? Were the revolutionists still looking for us? Why damn it! Go back and die in your stupid civil war. How did they even find us?

"Watch this one, I'll get the brat."

 The one without the bat stomped over to me. I couldn't move, indecision paralyzing me as of the three F's my body chose to freeze. Move, leave, scream, Tanya anything! Before I could come up with a plan or focus on an action a kick landed centered on my chest, and I felt myself fly back into the bathroom door. A wheeze of pain left me as my diaphragm spasmed trying to reset itself as the air in my lungs was forced out.

I scrambled desperately to get up and my efforts were rewarded with a punch in the face. My vision went white.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

 But I have felt worse pain than this.

My right eye wasn't cooperative as I craned my head up at my assailant. Rough hands grabbed my hair and dragged me to his other side. Masha was still breathing. No, not again. I don't want to lose someone again.

I reached for the man holding my hair, my hands making contact with his stomach. That was enough. I hadn't even learned reinforcement spells let alone begin to learn combat focused ones if Vera even knew any. But an excess of mana applied to a spell through brute force could cause an unexpected phenomenon. I couldn't use anything with heat that might take all of us out and I did not have the luxury to meter my output. No this would have to be simple and focused.

Get away! Stay away!

Push. Move. Shove and a simple direction structure. I let go as much as I could at that moment.

A pop. Then a splash and two distinct thuds. The hand holding my hair went limp and something warm covered my back. The other assailant across from me looked horrified. Good. Why did you come here? To kill us? Worse? You should be scared.

I focused on the last lesson Vera had taught. One body part only, exterior never interior.  Right foot, right ankle, right shin, right knee, right thigh. Only assist the motion do not enhance the muscle. Mana screamed across my leg as I lunged at the man. Knowing I was going to fly into him gave me a brief upper hand bracing for impact as we flew down the hall a tangle of limbs. The bat flew elsewhere but my advantage was short-lived. He had well over a hundred pounds on me.

Eyes of hate met mine. They were the most frightening sight I had ever experienced. The eyes of my last murderer had regret but this. This was genuine wrath for something that I had not done.Whatever hate he had wasn't for me but I was his outlet. Two hands grabbed my throat and squeezed. My vision immediately began to darken. No. Not this time. Finding his chest, I repeated the half-baked spell this time with abandon.

This time there was a CRACK and then a similar splash like an overturned paint can. The hands let loose and I gulped for air. The scent of blood and offal filled my nose. A warm liquid covered my entire body from the neck down. When my brain was no longer starved of oxygen, I finally registered what was covering me. A section of his small intestine was draped across my legs. Behind me was what was left of the man's torso shoulders up. His face still twisted in anger before going slack.

Video games and movies are not preparations for murder or violence, the scent, warmth, wetness and other senses that came with it were absent. Media was as much violence as I knew. I was lucky to have never seen a murder or assault in person other than my own, and while I was desensitized as the next person from the various media, real life violence still frightened me. My stomach emptied itself, adding to the terrible mixture of fluids on me. There was blood and viscera everywhere. Some part of me registered that I was in shock as I sat shaking from the event. So, I focused on a task rather than the world around me.

Save Masha.

The blood from her head had stopped but she still wasn't conscious. She was breathing, that's good. I dragged her away from the carnage trying to make sure I didn't move her head too much. Adrenaline was not going to last long enough for what I needed to do so I had to hurry before my body and mind crashed. I can't heal Masha, but I can make sure she will stay alive long enough for others to have a chance too.

Rasputin's personal spell was an odd one not quite to the level vstavlya but similar. He wasn't a healer, rather than fixing a problem he instead provided temporary relief in a unique way. The spell didn't undo or fix anything, it just 'normalized' a body using his own as a template. For my brother this would use mana to temporarily make his blood clot regularly at the cost of tying up his own personal mana to do so. So long as Rasputin and his charge were healthy the spell could be continued so long as there was mana available between the two.  The downside was the effects ended the moment mana stopped being applied and if the subject had used all of their mana they would return to their previous state while under mana exhaustion.

How he had figured out this spell was beyond me but for once I was thankful meeting that man. Closing my eyes I pulled in my mana. The excess could take the place of Masha's costs, but I still had to limit my output as much as possible. The last thing I wanted to do was accidentally turn her into my clone or worse. He had given me years of practice, so the only challenge was to wrangle my mana into a consistent but limited flow. Opening my eyes and casting the spell, the wound on Masha's skull closed but she remained unconscious. I hoped it was enough.

The door of our apartment opened, and I spent every bit of my willpower to focus on Masha. If it was another attacker I would have to stop the spell, but until I knew I had to keep Masha alive my priority. Vera walked into carnage and looked at me with fear in her eyes. She was scared of me. After everything I now scared her. The fact she had not screamed at the bodies but looked at me like that had my stomach twisting into knots. She took one last look at the bodies before noticing Masha and hurrying over to me. I closed my eyes bracing for her to push me away.

"Tanya! Are you okay? What happened?"

What? Why isn't she asking about Masha?

"I'm fine, the blood isn't mine. Masha needs help, she got hit in the head with a bat. I'm using a spell but the moment it drops she will get worse." Was that my voice? When did it get so weak? I opened my eyes to see Vera the stoic woman shed tears while staying focused.

"You are not fine, child. Thank you. For saving Masha." She hugged me before continuing. "For saving yourself. Help is on the way. When I saw the blood coming from the door I had feared the worst."

"I'm covered in blood. Please. Stop." Her embrace was making it hard to concentrate and I could feel the adrenaline wear off. My stomach and chest hurt as did the entirety of the right side of my face. My leg thankfully was not giving any warning signs of pain. I could feel the hot tears start and past experiences meant I knew they would not stop once they had started.

"Hush, little one I have seen plenty of blood. Right now, you are alive. You are both alive and I am so so thankful. We can always wash the blood away."

I don't know if it was minutes or hours before help arrived. Vera and Masha coworkers alongside other good Samaritans had helped us to Charite. I remember Vera telling me it was okay to drop the spell after Masha had been placed in a hospital bed before I was pulled away into a personal room for my own assessment. Now I just felt numb. Just about every part of me was covered in now crusting and blackening blood. They gave me a gown so I could get out of my blood-soaked clothes, but I had not yet been allowed to shower. My head hurt and my chest still stung when I breathed in. My right eye was still working so there was that though the swelling was making it harder to see out of.

A male doctor entered the room alongside a policeman pushing a cart holding a basin of water and clean towels, a strange machine, and clipboard.

"Hello Tanya, my name is Doctor Schakowsky and this is Officer Kraus."  Doctor Schakowsky was a well-groomed man in his late 50's while Officer Kraus was much younger late 20's at most with a very prominent moustache.

"Your mother is stable, but she is still asleep. Both me and Officer Kraus have a few questions for you and as soon as we are done this is for you to clean yourself with." Placing the basin and towels on the table next to me.

"When am I going home?"  The two men grimaced. Not good.

"Tanya, your mother has failed to bring you in for a mandatory assessment required for any child who displays magic potential."

"Not only that but there are two dead men, and the only other witness is unable to answer questions," Officer Kraus interrupted.

Doctor Schakowsky scowled before continuing, "Depending on how you answer our questions will help us decide when you can go home. Okay?"

Mandatory assessment? That last when felt more like an if. Not that I blamed Officer Kraus for doing his job, but I resented his tone. We were the ones that were attacked.

"I will do my best to cooperate in any way I can."

Whatever it takes I will get home.

Chapter Text

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakova

We were going to be late. If there was any consolation, it would be that Vera would be at her house by the time we got there.

It had to have been almost a year since I last saw Tanya. I had more friends now since I've been going to school, but none were like her.

So much has happened that it feels like it was a lifetime ago from when we fled from Rus. My memory of that time was fuzzy- most of what I recalled was just vague, brief moments and an overwhelming sense of discomfort. We've all settled into the Empire well enough, though there were some growing pains. In my case, that was literal- I was taller than most of the kids my age, but thankfully I was done growing, I think.

Gymnasium was fun, at least much better than Volksschule. Joining in the middle of that as a Rus native was unpleasant. My parents decided to stay in Posen, so I knew me and Tanya wouldn't be attending together, but it seemed that she somehow had been able to avoid going to Volksschule entirely. I knew she was smart enough to do so, based on our intermittent visits. She would help tutor me sometimes on subjects I struggled with at the time, and in my opinion was a better teacher than most of the ones I had.

I also learned I had a level of magical aptitude like Dad after my first mandatory school physical, so I got to practice magic with Tanya occasionally. Mom and Dad were not happy about those lessons, but never told me why.

Entering into gymnasium was my first real fresh start. I was finally able to make a handful of friends, and my imperial had improved enough to mask my origins.

However, the boys my age, like Vadya and Pasha, became a pain ever since that soldier came down to talk about the war, even if we were separated in class. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to be a soldier. Even though our teachers keep saying that not only war was only a possibility, but that other nations were unlikely to start one anytime soon, my friends would talk about how cool Erich was, since he was volunteering at sixteen, but I couldn't see it. For all the fairy tales, I now understood why the prince was always an adult. Most of the boys couldn't dance, and even the ones that could, only barely. Boys at this age were loud at best, and annoying at worst.

I wondered if Tanya became taller, now that she had finally started putting on some height last time I saw her, and how she would handle her first trials as a woman. She was rather unfeminine at the best of times, which was a shame, because she could be so pretty if only she tried. Not that she wasn't pretty, but she never made it her focus, spending her time on studying or practicing her magic instead. I imagined when she started menstruating, it would be nothing more than cold dialogue between her and Vera, even if she was completely mortified the entire time. The time we went out to buy undergarments together, you would think she was a teenage boy with how awkward she was during it.

I did hope she wouldn't start early. My first was late last year, and it was a terrifying, miserable affair.

Shaking my head to recenter on more pleasant topics as my thoughts grew too uncomfortable to sort, I latched on to the next one: I hoped they liked our gift. My parents decided to just get one big gift for the house: a brand-new Nirona gramophone with a record of Waltz No.2. I also brought my ceremonial chocolate offering. I was sure Tanya's access to chocolate now was much more accessible, but I liked seeing her eyes light up when I brought some.

I was told that their apartment was bigger than average, so I hoped there was some room to dance. At our last meeting, they visited our home in Posen. At the time, they were in a much smaller apartment, if you could call it that- it was just a single room. They had since saved up enough to move to this new one.

Uncle Sergei and Aunt Katya were joining us on our journey, alongside my cousins, though they were more excited to see the bazaar in Berun than visiting Tanya. Aunt Katya was more comfortable with her now, but Uncle Sergei and the boys still found her disconcerting. Tanya had changed after our first dance- she was still as peculiar as ever, but she smiled more. I didn't know if that helped or not, however. Her stare was as piercing as ever, and she kept that frightening intelligence about her. The moments when she was just a little girl still felt few and far in between.

The first time Vadya tried to mess with her, he was left crying and still wouldn't tell me what Tanya did. She wouldn't tell me either. Even now, when she has her full attention on me, I was reminded of our first meeting in that carriage. At least now that I wasn't a stupid kid anymore, I knew she wasn't going to eat me, though seeing her grow taller did help with some of the sillier thoughts, like her possibly being an upyr, a vampire.

Dad and I enjoyed the company of Tanya's caretakers more than Mom or the others.

Mom and Aunt Katya said they were a bad influence because they weren't married. Vera, on the other hand, defended that she and Masha were too busy to look for husbands, and too old to be considering marriage besides. Dad, for himself, said that they were great examples of women succeeding on their own.

I thought he just didn't want to consider me being married at all, or even with a boy, honestly. Unless the boys my age started becoming brave and dashing, that would be far into the future. It wasn't like I wanted to never get married. Quite the opposite, in fact, but finding one's true love felt a lot harder than the stories made it out to be.

The carriage taxi ride to their apartment was a mix of small conversations about what their new home was like, what food would be there, and if there was a kitchen they could help cook in. Most if it blended into the background noise of the street and the shaking vehicle.

I always find myself uneasy riding in carriages now. Something about the sound of hooves on stone and the rocking called forth unpleasant memories.

As we finally approached the building, a terrible feeling overwhelmed me as we came upon a crowd surrounding a cordon just outside of the building. Smoke was billowing out of windows as firefighters sprayed water into them. The fire looked like it was mostly under control.

The only windows heaving out the dwindling black smoke were congregated on the floor of Tanya's apartment.

Dad was the first to leave the taxi, rushing out as fast as his limp would let him towards the policemen holding the cordon around the building. Uncle Sergei followed shortly after. Mom and Aunt Katya kept me and the boys from running off as we left the taxi and grabbed our belongings.

I stared up at the smoking windows, a pit in my stomach as I feared the worst.

Why? Was it bad luck? Were they okay?

Some of the longest minutes of my life passed as we waited near the crowd for the two men to come back with news. When they returned bearing pensive expressions, they repeated back what they had learned to the women.

What I managed to hear was that the fire had started in Vera's apartment. The only confirmed dead or injured were two men who happened to be in her apartment. Lastly, before the fire had started Vera, Masha, and Tanya were seen leaving.

A flurry of conflicting emotions assailed me. Relief that Tanya was safe, worry about where they had left for, and confusion at the note of two men in their apartment.

"Do they say where they were going? Can we go there?"

My dad's face twisted into a sour expression.

"I'm sorry Visha, but it seems we will have to give them their gift another time," he said.

"What? Why? We came all this way, are we not going to look for them?" I didn't understand. Who cared about that stupid gift? There was a fire, and they were missing. What if they were hurt?

"Visha. We are going to the hotel and that's final."

I jumped slightly wide eyed at his tone. The last time I heard him speak like that had been when he told us to run. Tears of frustration began to well up in my eyes as fear and worry swirled within me.

"Is Tanya okay?" He wasn't telling me everything and I didn't know why. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes grew cold.

"I don't know. I know that she is alive and that she and her caretakers are fighters. I'm sorry Visha, but I don't think we will be seeing them again for a while."

Uncle Sergei looked scared. Not for Tanya, but scared of my dad. What happened?

Tanya, please be safe.

DECEMBER 25^th ,1215, 1921, IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, CHARITE HOSPITAL

Officer Robert Kraus

Taking one of the towels and dipping it into the basin of water provided, the young girl started to scrub away the dried blood and viscera on her arms. The water started turning to a sickly brown from the returning towel as she slowly removed stains. To be so covered in blood, she must have been in the center of that horrific scene.

The two women she had come to the hospital with were clean of blood, barring Frau Gedroits' shoes and Frau Degurechaff's own. What a mess of a day, and on Christmas eve no less. Two men were eviscerated in Frau Gredoit's apartment, and shortly after that they arrived at the hospital it was set aflame. The arsonist was still unidentified and last I heard, it was being categorized as an accident. Identifying the corpses was a lost cause at this point.

There was no doubt the three were part of the white émigré from Rus. While the trio had all met the conditions required for naturalization, Frau Gedroits had made no effort to hide where she had come from.

Frau Degurechaff and her supposed child set off alarm bells in my head though.

For one, there was no resemblance between the two at all. Even if you ignored the frankly terrifying crimson irises, Tanya's pitch-black hair was in stark contrast to Frau Degurechaff's almost blonde brunette. The young girl was like something out of a fantasy novel, having an almost doll-like appearance. Even if she was making attempts to hide it, she had to have some noble instruction going by how she carried herself. Tanya's imperial was fluent though, with an ever-present touch of a Russy accent.

I was one of the unfortunate few to actually see the dreadful scene firsthand. It was a small wonder that the apartment caught fire. I doubted anyone could get all the blood and viscera from the ceiling, floor and walls.

The only time I have ever seen anything similar to such devastation was during my brief time in the service, when an unfortunate artilleryman was moving expired shells. Even then, at least the scorch marks hid some of the carnage. Every officer who had entered the apartment either fainted or vomited on sight and I had been no exception to the latter.

Yet.

This eleven-year-old girl was calmly wiping away the proof of her intimate experience of that scene. To say it unnerved me was an understatement. She had minor injuries consistent with Frau Gedroit's story that the two men must have been burglars or some other vermin who had broken in to harm them. The attending physician had noted that she had several bruised ribs, though no sign of major internal bleeding, and a rather nasty bruise on the right side of her face from blunt force trauma. If those men were responsible for those injuries I could not find much pity in my heart for them. Still, I must do my duty.

Frau Gedroits' testimony was that she had arrived after the death of the men, finding Tanya and Frau Degurechaff injured in the kitchen, Further stating that she had seen blood pooling outside of her door and had gone for help before entering the residence. This was corroborated by her coworkers and others who had assisted her with transporting Frau Degurechaff to Charite. However, in every testimony only Frau Gedroits had entered and exited the residence. None of the good Samaritans had entered the apartment. Until we arrived, the door had remained shut. Frau Gedroits seemingly carried Frau Degurechaff out herself.

How those men had ended up in that state was a problem. Frau Gedroits was a known mage and her work in Charite, according to testimonies from the staff, was nothing short of phenomenal. She had quickly worked her way up the hierarchy through merit and effort alone. Eventually landing a head position in the Surgery Department after just under six years of impeccable service.

She had been provided with a medical class computation orb, the Eppendorf Type 7, to assist in her work. These orbs are stored at the hospital and tracked with a religious fervor as literal life saving devices. When I pressed the staff I was reluctantly informed that in theory a person could use the orb to replicate combat spells but in a very limited capacity. No orbs were noted as being missing from the time of Frau Gedroits departure to her return, not accounting for the fact her position as head of Surgery allowed her the privilege of keeping a personal orb in her office. The logistics staff was unable to confirm with absolute certainty that the orb was in the hospital at the time of her departure.

It was a weak line of reasoning to be honest. There were more conflicting pieces of evidence that discredited that theory.

For example, the lack of scorching in the apartment was concerning. Even if Frau Gedroits had taken her orb and managed to use it to cast combative spells, it should have replicated a chemical explosion. My knowledge of magic may be limited, but the mages I met during joint unit training demonstrations all made it clear that the explosive spell should be considered as a replication of a gunpowder explosion. The two men looked to have been split apart separately, so maybe she had used a modified mage blade? Even then, the woman was in her early fifties. Magic might have given her a fighting chance against the two, but not to that level of devastation.

Frau Degurechaff was not much younger, and despite being noted as having magical aptitude she fell short of being able to utilize the hospital provided orb. That left only the young girl in front of me. Working in law enforcement was the second fastest route to learning just how illogical our world could be, only exceeded by a tie between those in the fields of war and medicine. I couldn't rule it out that she had managed to be the one who had performed such horrors. If that was the case, she could not be simply allowed to wander Berun without the supervision of the law. Computation orbs and their regulation was the only deterrence in preventing an unstable individual with mana from wreaking havoc on the populace.

If she could cast spells like that, she was a threat to the public by her very nature. Thus far, she had only done so to protect herself and her family. Even if she acted for a noble cause, someone is going to start asking questions if no one was convicted for the unregulated use of magic officially. Even if no punishment is rendered. I clenched my jaw, knowing that a military R&D scientist too smart for his own good would salivate over an anomaly like her. Her future was now contingent on her answers. If she was smart, maybe I could help her give an answer that could avoid that fate.

"I am going to be direct with you, Tanya. Which of those two women killed those men?" Speaking to her as if she was an ordinary child after every action she had performed displayed the opposite was likely to insult her. She stopped mid-wipe on her left arm; perhaps we should have brought more towels.

She made direct eye contact with me.

"Pardon me. Could you repeat the question, Officer Kraus?"

Only years of training kept my composure. It was like looking the devil in the eye. Her stare made me want to back away. Doctor Schakowsky had actually taken a step back after she had leveled her stare in our direction.

Lord, please grant me strength.

"Yes, of course. Was it your mother or Frau Gedroits that killed those men?" I grimaced as the words left my mouth. She might not be a normal child but even that was a bit much.

"Neither."

That prompt response knocked the wind out of me. My gut twisted at the knowledge that I was in a room with a child capable of bifurcating a man with a flick of her wrists. Judging by the way she was calmly removing the remnants of those men in front of me, she was also capable of doing it without much remorse. Some rational part of my brain countered with the idea that she might just still be in shock of such a terrible event.

"To confirm, are you saying that you were responsible for their deaths?"

Please say no. Just say Frau Gedroits, hell, blame anyone you'd like. Just let me believe in a lie so you and I can go home.

She stayed quiet for a moment, and I watched in morbid fascination as she mulled over her next words while slowly removing the dried blood. "If I said I had, what would the consequences be, Officer Kraus?"

"The worst is that the individual responsible could be charged for two separate violations under Section 227m of the Imperial Criminal Code. In your case, the penalty would be imprisonment for a minimum of two years to a maximum of twenty. Having said that, Tanya, you should be able to discern that you have an above average level of magical aptitude through approved testing. You may be qualified to serve that time in the military." I paused, clearing my throat. "However, this is only if you are confessing, and would still require a judge to render the sentence. Please know that under self-defense laws, it is possible that no punishment may be rendered."

Come on child, I know you are bright. These women are not your direct family so just say a name so we can move past this, and I can go drink to forget that awful sight. Frau Gedroits had enough social standing and this was so clearly self-defense that she could overcome this legal challenge unscathed.

Tanya Degurechaff

Shit! Shit! Shit! 'No punishment may be rendered', that might as well mean nothing. If this was anything like my world, then since we were immigrants, a judge could declare the maximum punishment out of bias alone, our gender be damned. Worse, what if he declared that I was insane, and put me in the nightmare that is this century's mental health institutes. I could intuit that Officer Kraus was trying to give me an out by only naming Vera and Masha as the perpetrators initially. Maybe he held some sympathy because of my age and gender.

Could I sell out either of them for my own freedom?

No.

That response surprised me with how quickly it came. Even if it may have come expeditiously from some emotional response, there was reasoning behind it.

I couldn't claim that it was Masha. If the legal system started looking into her, even if they waived the deaths, she might get charged with more mundane violations. Our papers were illegal after all. Sure, they passed a cursory inspection, but if someone decided to start digging, they would fall apart. We had gotten this far by lying low and relying on Vera and her plans. Even if she got off without severe punishment for that, would I remain in her custody? If Vera was declared the perpetrator, there goes the bulk of the household income, and I didn't even know when or if Masha would wake up.

My blood ran cold as that thought passed. No. She had to get better. I saved her. We saved her.

If she doesn't get better, then what was the point in all that blood effort? I told myself I wouldn't lose another one, and so help me, if I had to keep Rasputin's spell up 24/7 myself I will. Over the last seven years, my long term plans had slowly shifted from running away from this powder keg of a nation alone to dragging these two women with me even if they didn't want to go. Even if it was going to be difficult, I owed them both greatly and I was going to repay them.

"Why would having an above average magical aptitude qualify an individual to avoid jail time through military service?"

I needed more information. As pragmatic as the Empire might be, the idea that they would allow criminals into their military because of some strange talent was disconcerting. It was not as if I was ignorant of the Empire or its history, but I had not yet entered into society properly. I knew that the Empire was highly militarized, and that mages were not common, but were they so valuable as to allow individuals to avoid possible legal consequences? Would they really take an eleven-year-old girl just because she had magic talent? I could feel my frustration at being turned away by the various lead religious figures at the public schools resurface. Beyond likely out of date textbooks and newspapers, I was still missing too much cultural context.

Doctor Schakowsky spoke up first, "The Empire has always needed more mages, and in times of war, those with magic aptitude are historically conscripted regardless of age or gender. Such aptitude is considered sufficient enough conditions for military enlistment." Officer Kraus glared at the older man following his remark, and I wanted to join him.

Conscription? I knew they were a meritocracy, but that felt like a step too far. So it was a question of joining the military now or later?

"I see," I tried to respond as calmly as I could. Be brave, be noble.

I'm trying, Misha.

I most certainly did not see what else I could say. That little tidbit of information had rather successfully backed me into a corner. Even if I wanted to sell out Vera or Mo- Masha, I was still going to have that hanging over me. What little information I got from our outings, and the occasional newspaper, was that the Empire was already building for a possible war. No doubt part of that devil Being X's plan to torment me.

"Officer Kraus. If I were to volunteer for the military, would it be possible to forgo naming an individual?"

Directly admitting fault would be the peak of idiocy. Even if they could make the logical deduction, it could still be held suspect. I was not familiar with how the Empire's legal system rendered judgment, but if it was closer to Japan than America, a confession was enough even in the face of reasonable doubt. Someone confessing to a crime regardless of the facts contradicting them will be seen as guilty regardless. If I had to do this, I would rather not have a criminal record following me. Officer Kraus' face twisted in discomfort, which reflected how I felt while keeping my own neutral. He paused for a moment, sighing before speaking.

"Perhaps it would be best for the Doctor to perform his test before I make any further statements. I know we are keeping you from fully cleaning yourself, so before you make any further statements or testing the Doctor and I will leave the room and return in half an hour. As much as I would like for us to continue this in the morning, I am sure you are more exhausted than us. Your case is unfortunately a high priority due to its magical nature. We will speak again soon, Tanya."

Before Doctor Schakowsky could argue the younger officer pulled him from the room before closing the door. A last chance to reconsider, huh? Taking the basin now completely filled with red-brown water, I dumped it into the sink before refilling the basin with fresh water and began to clean myself in earnest. Horrifically, as I washed and scrubbed away the blood on my limbs, the sink held more and more bits of rehydrated viscera and bone. It felt like every inch I cleaned I found more. My hands started to feel raw yet were as stained as when I started. But slowly and painfully, I felt just a little cleaner. I wished for a hot shower.

Wasn't this child cruelty?

As I continued the disgusting work, I tried to push my thoughts away from the vision of blood, guts, and eyes of hate that assailed me. Was there any option other than following the curse that devil put upon me? It wasn't fair.

I was so close to starting what passes for a normal life for one in my circumstances. School, the familiar rise of academic achievement, to building social connections for a stable career. Gone. Replaced with blood and the promise of more in the future. I dry heaved into the sink as the memory of splashing blood and organs was lovingly and unwillingly replicated in my memory with perfect detail. Bastards. I had no pity for those men. If they were willing to kill, they should've been ready to die. My only regret was that I had been forced to kill.

I remembered a time when the mere idea of people yelling at me was terrifying.

You idiot, you knew nothing about the true terrors of the world. You were too stupid to even watch your back at a train station.

That thought was like a caustic splash on my mind as I weighed my options. Even if selling out Vera led to almost zero consequences, someone was still looking for me. They had gotten close enough to know where we lived, and brazen enough to attack during the day. It wouldn't just be those two, there were always more rats hiding somewhere. They were probably still watching Vera and Masha. I was putting them in danger but just being around them. Paranoia gripped me as possible dangers spiraled into irrational delusions.

I didn't want to be a soldier. In fact, of all of the careers I could have, that was firmly at the bottom. My first foray into violence had thus far been a miserable enough affair to affirm that I was a pacifist at heart. What sort of psychopath could enjoy such things? I spent my life using rational expectations as a basis for how to live, only to now be beset by the most irrational of circumstances and fools.

I hate this.

Okay, enough self-pitying. Even if this world was determined to be driven by irrationality, it did not mean I had to be.

1. There is a hostile force who is seeking us out and knows of our whereabouts.

2. They are willing to use lethal force brazenly.

3. Regardless of my choices, I will not be able to avoid the military, barring leaving the country.

4. The military will provide me with protection, or at the very least the means to protect myself and what is mine.

Mo- Masha and Vera would not agree with my decision to join the military. They were good, rational individuals, even though they have spent the majority of this life providing for me despite having no obligation to do so. Still, even if I was loath to do so, it was the best option to avoid bringing more unknown danger to us all.

Besides, I was still a child. Even if I joined, there was no way the Empire, no matter how pragmatic, would place me on the front lines. The optics alone should be enough to ensure a cushy, decorative rear position no matter how valuable mages might be.

Joining the military solved several issues, so long as I planned for it to be only a temporary career. It would protect me and my family from the rats, allow me to build a foundation for a civilian career while elevating my social status. Lastly, I would be avoiding the inevitable conscription that was far more likely to get me killed. My choice was effectively made for me.

I hope they forgive me.

Doctor Schakowsky

"Officer Kraus, would you mind telling me what that hell that was all about?" I asked, shaking my arm free of the man's grasp. "Following your line of questioning you and I both know she was the one responsible. Do you really think it is wise to leave her alone?"

"No, but I also think this situation has far exceeded my authority. Listen, if she wanted to leave she could have by now. I'll get one of the boys to watch the door. Furthermore, you might not care if she joins the military, but I have enough of a conscience to find that idea detestable. So for now, go keep yourself busy for the next half hour while I go get someone with rank and pay befitting of handling this mess."

Apparently, that was all the man had to say to me before rushing off.

What a rude young man. It was not as if I was dragging a young girl from her parents to go run off to the infantry. Moreover, he was the one who brought up military service in the first place! Tanya Degurechaff was hardly a normal young girl, even if you didn't include the fact she had murdered two men today. Murder might be a bit much. Killed nonetheless. Still, the fact she had been able to perform such magic without a computation orb, or even an antiquated scepter was groundbreaking to say the least.

While Dr. Gedroits has been a boon to this hospital, she was also far too forceful for a woman. I doubted that woman was a good example for the young…lady? Child? Tanya. Maria's connection with Tanya was tenuous, even if they might have some papers claiming she was her mother. I had doubts that the woman could have found a man capable of such magical potential, and she certainly wasn't setting any new magical records. Dr. Gedroits' magical aptitude was significant, but hardly spectacular. Where the hell these two women had found Tanya was a mystery.

Well, no point in just mucking about. I started to head to the cafeteria, and while there wasn't any food available, the coffee was kept stocked hot and ready for the night shift. Even if it was substandard, the caffeine would do me good. To my discomfort, the only other individual there was Dr. Gedroits, hovering by the coffee urn. Bracing myself before walking over and grabbing one of the mugs provided, I filled it with the over brewed swill. Waiting for her to break the silence, I took the opportunity to drink deep from the mug.

"How is Tanya?" She asked, making me wince. A raised eyebrow was my comeuppance for not reigning in my facial expressions. I blamed the exhaustion. Being pulled away to deal with this mess after a day of festivities was not something I had planned for.

"She is fine, Dr. Gedroits. We are giving her a moment to finish cleaning herself off before we go forward with the aptitude test. Please accept my apologies for having her wait so long to do so. I'm sure you understand just how frantic everything became upon your arrival." I was actually apologetic. Seeing the poor girl covered in dried blood and viscera made me want to go find the nearest nurse and demand what in God's name they were thinking for letting her remain in such a state.

Dr. Gedroits was around my age, but at the moment she looked much older. Part of what is so galling about her is just how much she accomplished as a woman. I was one of the many men who she had surpassed professionally, and while I respected her work my pride and honor as a man raged against her every success. Her position as a lead and her forceful demeanor had caused no end of workplace friction when she started dressing down the more incompetent of our peers.

"Speaking of the test, why did you and Maria fail to bring her in earlier?" Tanya without question surely displayed some magical phenomenon at one point or another conscious or otherwise. Dr. Gedroits was not one to avoid or shirk duties; rather, she was quite the stickler for following protocol and rules. Her reaction to the question was confusing. She laughed.

"Dr. Schakowsky, if I had my way, you would not be testing her tonight, or any other night. Since this is now out of my hands I will give a word of warning. Listen to Tanya when you do your test." Her tone was just as sharp and authoritative as ever. What could an eleven-year-old girl know about magical aptitude testing? "After her test she will be released back into my custody, correct?" This time, I managed to keep my face neutral to the uncomfortable question, saved by grimacing into the coffee.

"Officer Kraus has gone off to retrieve one of his superiors for reasons beyond my knowledge. Whoever he brings will have the final say in that, Dr. Gedroits. Having said that, I will recommend she be returned back to those she is comfortable with, whatever good that will do." I had no problem saying such things if it meant keeping out of the doctor's bad side. If Tanya decided to volunteer, there really was nothing I could do to change that.

"Would you happen to know why he did such a thing?"

"In his own words the situation had gone beyond his authority. I'm assuming the magical nature of the case might be why." Her face scrunched up unrelated to the bitter beverage we were consuming.

"It was self-defense, Dr. Schakowsky. How much more is there to investigate?"

"Normally, I would agree with you Dr. Gedroits, but most self-defense cases don't leave the attackers in literal pieces."

That may not have been the correct response. I downed what was left of the drink and refilled my mug. "If I have anything more to tell you after the test, I will let you know. How is Maria?" I reached for any other topic before I put my foot in my mouth again.

"Stable but still in a coma. Intracerebral Hemorrhage, and a depressed skull fracture with a total of twenty-two stitches. If we did not utilize orbs here, she would have died. Medical formulas, some of the brightest medical minds in Berun, and God's grace kept Masha here. I used to sneer at them. The orbs you know? I held the idea that relying on math to save lives would make us complacent. Now I can't begin to say how grateful I am that they exist."

It was a bit uncomfortable seeing the normally implaccable woman look so vulnerable. Honestly, it was a miracle Maria was alive. How she managed to make the trip to Charite was beyond me. Even with medical formulas, that sort of injury has one of the highest mortality rates directly linked to how quickly one receives treatment. Dr. Gedroits' apartment was far enough away that Maria ought to have perished while she was in transit.

"Well small miracles." I took a look at the clock on the wall. Time was up. "Dr. Gedroits, I need to get going. The sooner I get the testing over with, the sooner I can give you answers."

"Don't let me keep you. When you are done, I will be with Masha if you need to find me.."

I gave her a curt nod placing the empty mug on the dish rack before wandering back to Tanya's room. True to Officer Kraus's word, another officer was posted by the door. Thankfully, it seems the rude lad had managed to pass on who I was so the gentleman didn't stop me as I approached. I gave him a polite greeting before I knocked on the door. The last thing I wanted to do was surprise a young girl who could possibly cause explosions on a whim.

"Come in," a small voice replied.

Entering the room, I thought she looked significantly less terrifying with the blood removed from her limbs. Still dressed in the provided gown, brown stains littered the hem and portions around her sleeves. The sink looked as though she made some effort to clean it, but I have seen surgeries leave less viscera. The several towels I had brought were ruined. Barring some expeditious application of bleach they were beyond saving.

"Well, it seems I arrived first. Before I administer the test, Tanya, it would be best if we wait for Officer Kraus to return." She nodded once.

Sitting on the edge of the simple hospital bed, her silhouette might have even given the impression of a helpless little girl. Twin crimson eyes, and almost alien stare made me grateful I had the forethought to get some caffeine. Tanya, for her part, despite her odd countenance was starting to look exhausted. Whatever concoction of endorphins had long run their course it was surprising she was awake at all.

Thankfully, we did not have to wait long as a knock answered my prayers asking the Lord to not leave me alone with this child. "Come in!" I called out while ensuring that the various apparatuses were ready for the test.

Officer Kraus held the door open as the Chief of Police, Herman von Windheim walked in, who I only recognized due to his presence at the hospital's social obligations. He was a tall, wiry man only a few years my elder, sporting a similar handlebar moustache as his subordinate; the only difference was the addition of grey peppering. He looked rather bedraggled, wearing black slacks, suspenders and a white shirt with mismatched shoes. It was jarring to see the normally meticulous man absent of his usual impeccable uniform and mirror sheen boots. When Officer Kraus said he was going to get a superior, this was much higher up the ladder than I expected.

The new gentleman cleared his throat before speaking, "Good evening, or at this ungodly hour, perhaps morning. I am Police Chief Herman Von Windhiem. I have been dragged here because I was informed that your case, little lady, was rather unique. First, I would like to say I have no intention of keeping you awake for long, as I also would like to return to sleep quickly. I am merely here to observe Officer Kraus has performed the necessary duties, so please be at ease. My presence should be more of a formality than anything." He locked his gray eyes with the young girl, and as expected of a man of his station showed no signs of discomfort at her stare. It was more likely that the young officer had warned him beforehand.

"Understood, Herr Windheim." Some part of me shuddered at her response, and I could only hope it had not been external.

"If we are ready, shall I begin the tests?" I asked, gesturing to the men to get their assent and receiving nods and mumbles of agreement.

"One moment doctor. If I may ask, what does this test entail?" Tanya chimed in.

"Don't worry, there are no needles or anything invasive Tanya, we have two tests. One is a general mana density test in which this machine," tapping on the helmet like apparatus, "is placed upon you, at which point it will pull ambient mana to a measurable result correlating relative to your ability. Particularly skilled mages are noted for causing minor phenomena but nothing dangerous. The secondary test is a more recent one. It is a custom-made computation orb designed only as a mana sink with distinct spring-loaded breakpoints marking potential."

"I have some reservations about the first test, Dr. Schakowsky. While I may have not received any formal training, Vera and I have practiced mana release before and I worry that the machine might produce dangerous phenomena." That was interesting. Mana release was considered an obsolete practice, now that computation orbs have been firmly integrated into magical studies.

"If you would not mind demonstrating? Why, that could be used in lieu of the test's normal results. Though I will have to insist that we do the secondary test. Visual observations lack the concrete results required by the military bureaucracy." She nodded resolutely at my response, and this time I made an effort to suppress my shudder.

"Whenever you are ready, begin. I will let you know when to stop." Mana release could replicate some of the effects seen by the apparatus but muted and for a much brief period of time.

Closing her eyes, I watched in horror as the room began to slowly fill with mana refraction as it seemed to pour out from her. The helmet began blaring alarms I had only known to exist as stress safeguards, demonstrated when accomplished military mages would come and force mana directly into the machine during the design phase.

"Stop!" I yelled out as a cold sweat covered me.

As quickly as it started, it vanished, the volume of mana diminishing to the point where it could dissipate at its normal instantaneous rate. God damn it Vera, 'listen to her'? You could have at least warned me just how much of a monster she was. Two cold ruby eyes looked at me calmly as if she had not just performed a feat of legend. The Chief was the only one of us three who managed to keep his bearing.

"I-It seems that the first test is unnecessary; you certainly exceed any current measurable rate. Based on that last display I believe we should take additional precautions with this next test."

Grabbing the external case, the orb's first breakpoint was already clicked out from the orb. Terrifying. An above average mage would set out three of six established breakpoints each exponential from the next. An exceptional one could break the fourth. Mediocre mages could not raise the first which consigned them to ground units. Breaking that one was what decided if they were capable of being an aerial mage. The external case was, in theory, designed to prevent ambient mana from influencing the test during transit, so hopefully it would serve as buffer at best, or a containment for if the orb melted at worst. Closing the metal container around the overly large computation orb, I walked over and placed it upon the side table.

"Standard practice would be to hold the orb in your hands and have you direct mana into it. However, out of an abundance of caution I suggest that instead we place the orb within its case upon the table, and have you direct your mana through that. This separation will produce a lower result, however in your case that might be to all our benefit."

Tanya looked at least a little chagrined before nodding her understanding. "Very well. For how long would you like me to direct my mana?"

"Briefly. Let's say the count of three. Actually, let's make that two." I hoped that I had not underestimated her again. Removing direct contact with the orb should prevent any disastrous results. "Okay, when you are ready. Begin." She raised her hands to the container.

One.

Two.

A hiss escaped the metal container, and for the first time this night, Tanya looked like a child her age, looking just as scared as any child would when they had broken something in an accident.

I walked over and undid the latches on the robust travel case. Inside, all six of the breakpoint markers were released and the orb had begun to melt down from mana overload. The safeguards had worked, so rather than just exploding, it rapidly converted the mana into heat. The melted components were sacrificial so the orb could be repaired. With how much this thing cost, there had been a priority in ensuring redundancy and durability.

Monstrous.

Closing the container, I looked back at the two police men. "It is my professional opinion that Tanya meets and exceeds the requirements to serve as Aerial mage in the Imperial Army. Predicated upon her volunteering of course. I believe that is all that is required of my presence. If you don't mind, I need to return this equipment."

Moving the container back to the rolling cart, I hurried out of the room. Equipment and Logistics can figure out what to do with the melted orb. I had a report to write, a much needed bottle of liquor to consume, and a woman to avoid.

Tanya Degurechaff

I messed up. Even trying to throttle my magic for the second test, I wasn't sure how much to pull back. I hope that I will not be held fiscally responsible for the doctor's mistake. After all, I had only done as he asked. What was done was done, though and according to the doctor I was free to make my decision. Loath as I was to do so, this really felt like my only option. Perhaps that devil had planned this. It didn't matter, however. The more mundane mortal threats were more pressing at the moment.

The look on Officer Kraus' face was that of a man that desperately wanted to follow after the doctor. At least the chief appeared composed. That was probably why he was the first one to speak up after an uncomfortable period of silence.

"Tanya Degurechaff, I said that my presence was nothing more than a formality. I apologize. It seems my subordinate was correct that my presence was necessary, despite my initial misgivings. I do not want to feel that you must volunteer for the military. However, because of what you displayed before me and the self-defense actions that I was informed of, which I now believe were yours. I cannot allow you to be allowed to return to your caregivers without the direct supervision of my department should you decide not to. Regardless of your choice I say this now under my authority as Police Chief of Berun that you will not be charged for any crime."

That was promising. Even still, that did not change my decision. Direct surveillance under the eyes of the police was likely to be as restrictive as the military, with none of the benefits. Asking for unobtrusive protection for Vera and Mom…

Oh.

That was not something I had either the mental or emotional bandwidth to deal with right now. File that for later for now unobtrusive protection for them shouldn't be too much of an ask. If they thought I was that important to keep an eye on, that should translate to my caregivers as well.

"Thank you, Herr Windheim. For the record, I would like to volunteer. This is the only path for me."

Chapter Text

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE REVOLUTION

JANUARY 23, 1914, HOURS 1820. ALEXANDER PALACE, RUS

Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova

Smoke columns dotted the landscape as I stared out towards Petrograd from the second story window. 

Today was the day we left this palace and our home. It felt like lifetimes have passed since Tanya had left. ‘We’ was such a large word for how few of us would be going. Me, Olya, Tan’ka, and Masha. So many changes had occurred, with none of them being good. Another even less friendly “Duma”. More men yelling at or about what Papa did or did not do. The soldiers' faces around the palace were growing less and less familiar.

“Nastya!” 

I jumped at the voice. I suppose hiding up here from the ‘Governess’ was only going to work for so long.

“Coming!” I yelled back, deciding that being dragged down the stairs was not worth the extra time worrying.

Running down the hallway and descending down the stairs, the sight at the bottom reminded me how unfair life was. We were all given simple dresses and it wasn’t fair Tan’ka and Olya made them look as graceful as a ballroom gown when I felt like potatoes stuffed into a sack. Masha was preening in hers, even though we had the exact same dress. Fatso was joining us too, because he was the only man other than papa that could convince Masha to do anything. She had lost weight driving herself mad fussing over Mama; not that I could blame her. I didn’t hate Nikolai Dmitrievich, really. If he didn’t make it so easy to tease him, Masha and I would have stopped calling fatso long ago.

There were so many new names and old faces. Sir Lockhart, Sir Drake, Sir Tudor, Mr. Constantine. The plan I and Alyosha had come up with was all but forgotten now. I was never going to get to see Tanya’s silly expression after meeting her in the Republic. No, Olya and Tan’ka had decided to actually listen to me, and then promptly ignore all my good ideas. Papa listened to Tan’ka like he always did when we finally convinced her to speak to him. That wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was Mama agreeing with the idea too.

I guess I wasn’t the only one praying because Mama, in one of her now rare lucid moments, said that the Lord had sent an angel to tell her that those who could, must leave. Why couldn’t the angel have told her sooner? Or that we all must leave? 

Tan’ka says that we are relying on the kindness of our extended family. The word ‘family’ puts a bad taste in my mouth now. That, and the way others speak of the name Romanov now. We were happy. Maybe we could have stayed happy together, if everyone had just left us alone. The list of people I counted truly as family was short. Much shorter than the long graphs and intricate weaves of lineages those frustrating teachers would flap on about. That list was so small, and yet we couldn’t even gather them all together to leave. Grigori, Alyosha, Mama, Papa were all staying, which wasn’t fair. They’ve all told me why, but it was still stupid. What was the point of magic if you couldn’t create miracles when it mattered? The lineage of House Romanov, the greatest mages in Rusland, blessed and anointed by the Lord and we were forced to rely on math glass balls from foreign nations. Even those little things could not have kept Alyosha as healthy as Grigori had.

I swallowed my frustration. It wouldn't do to be another dour member of this already dour party.

“I’m here, governess, ” I exclaimed, doing an exaggerated courtsy, trying to get a reaction to see something other than the stone faces in front of me. Annoyance or amusement, it didn’t matter which, would be an improvement over the collection of dignified but frustrated acceptance they had plastered on. 

On the opposite side of my sisters at the foyer was a group of three men. I only knew one of them in any capacity; the other two were effectively strangers. Nikolai looked quite strange in a suit rather than a uniform. The other two sported long heavy overcoats and the esoteric orbs around their necks.

They appeared to be in what looked like a rather heated discussion, while fatso was too busy making doe-eyes at Masha. If I was remembering correctly, that was Sir Lockhart and Mr. Constantine. From what I was overhearing, Sir Lockhart was good at football. Of Mr. Constantine, on the other hand, I didn’t know anything, nor did anyone else, it seemed. The particularly enigmatic man was apparently the more observant of the two, pausing their argument upon noticing my arrival.

“Finally, we are already behind schedule. The sooner I can get you all on the road, the safer we will all be,” he groused.

“Have a shred of sympathy, you ingrate,” Sir Lockhart scolded, looking as if he was tempted to smack the man on the back of his head. If he didn’t, I would the moment the opportunity arose. “Apologies, Your Imperial Highnesses, for my counterparts’ words. We simply want to ensure your safety to the best of our ability.”

“Will we be able to say goodbye to Mama, Papa, and Alyosha?” 

Schedule be damned, I was going to do everything I could to get one more of us out if I could. 

“For Christ’s sake! See Lockhart, this is why I hate working with children.” Mr. Constantine was not going to be pleasant company. That was a nonissue, though. I could also be unpleasant.

“I have already sent for them, Your Imperial Highness, however we cannot delay our departure for much longer. Sir Drake is under explicit orders to leave at twenty-one-hundred regardless if we arrive or not.”  

This was probably why Sir Lockhart was a Sir, at least he knew some manners. That was good. I knew how to make manners work for me even if they could be stuffy.

“Nastya, stop causing trouble.” My little brother’s voice made me jump. “Please, Sir Lockhart. Drag her out of here if you must. She can have quite a loud voice when she is upset, so be aware of that.”  

He had walked here! That must have been how he snuck up on me. His chair had a rather distinct squeak now, but his steps had always been frightening light. Dressed in his service uniform, he looked every bit the part of a proud Tsarevich that was expected of him to be.

“Alyosha! I am not a baby,” I scoffed. ”Since you are already here, why don’t you come with us anyway?” 

That didn’t come out as innocently or intelligently as I wanted to, but my precious brother had managed to catch me quite off guard. I knew he wanted to be a soldier, but when had he started talking like a boring adult?  

“I am staying right here. I have a duty that I cannot abandon.” 

He looked too grown up. Where had my little brother gone? With a melancholic smile he looked over us. “I love you all so much. If any of you happen to see Tanya in your travels, please tell her I am sorry for not being a better older brother.” 

Mr. Constantine pulled out a small pocketbook before scribbling something and stuffing it away just as quickly. 

I hated that my face no doubt reflected my siblings of pressed tight lips and welling tears. I hated this. None of us wanted this. Not for the first time in recent memory, I wondered if the Lord had forsaken us. How cruel it was to know this was maybe the last time I would see Alyosha for months, and to know that none of us could hug him goodbye. In further cruel changes, Grigori’s magic had started failing alongside his health. I didn't think any of us could stop from squeezing him too tight and bruising him from being unwilling to let go. Tan’ka’s hand gripped my shoulder, instinctively deducing my intentions as I considered that the risk might just be worth it. 

Loud footfalls of boots on marble echo down the hallway as Papa sprinted towards us, his uniform unkempt. Stopping just in front of our group in a sweating and exhausted looking mess.

“My beautiful and precious children. Please let me hold you one last time before you go,” In a huffing and exhausted voice Papa rasped out, looking like a broken man, arms outstretched in search of solace. A mass of bodies lunges toward him as we all grab hold of the last rock in this terrible rapid of life.  “I love you all so much.” I can barely hear him over the collective mix of open and restrained sobs betwixt us. “Stay safe. Live long, happy, and healthy. This is my only request to you all.”

“I am sorry Your Imperial Majesty, but we must leave now.” 

Sir Lockhart, I thought you had manners. It seems I had misjudged you.

“I know. I know. Go, and upon your lives keep them safe.” Papa reluctantly untangled himself from us as he kissed each of our foreheads. “Your mother wishes she could be here and she is sorry she was not strong enough to say goodbye.”

I didn’t want to let go. It took Tan’ka and Olya both to grab my arms and pull me away.

“Let me go! I don’t want the last thing Alyosha and Papa to see is me being dragged away. I will walk out of this palace the proud Romanov I am.” 

The nobility of this declaration was unfortunately undercut by the snot and tears on my face, but my kind sisters acquiesced regardless. Alyosha walked towards me and handed me his handkerchief, which didn’t help at all as fresh tears spilled forth. Kind to a fault. I wish he could have been more selfish. 

Dabbing away at the tears and wiping away the mess on my face, I walked out with the strangers and my sisters. Four Grand Duchesses left the Alexander Palace as shuddering crying messes, yet with heads held high.

“Okay then. Mark hour eighteen-fifty five. Now.” Mr. Constantine muttered.

A half-dozen hazy different clones split away from us each, entering separate vehicles. The only soldiers in the front garden were composed solely of the most familiar of faces from our Leib Guard, cordoning off the area as we were shuffled into fresh off-the-line Commonwealth Packard Sixes, courtesy of father’s first cousin George. Six of these vehicles would leave Tsarskoye Selo, each bound for a separate yet relatively close destination. Ours was going to make a beeline towards the coast of Peterhof, where we would be ferried over to the RMS Magdalena. We each donned wigs as some of the vehicles blurred into carriages, or the more locally known Delaunay-Bellevilles. The only filled cars were our own, while the rest held only a single soldier.  

The only two luggage cases we were taking had jewelry Papa had demanded that we take with us. Some of the pieces were genuine national treasures. The Orb, Kokoshnik Diadem, the Vladimir Tiara, various other large gemstones, brooches, as well as Mama’s wedding rings. Papa attempted to push for the crowns and scepter before his advisors nearly had a coronary, already scrambling to try to get the Orb back. I had heard Papa saying, “If you are all so certain that sending away what is most precious to me is for the best, why are you so protective of stones and metal?” I agreed. We should’ve just left the stones and metal and had him and mama come with us.

Leaving Tsarskoye Selo, I stared back at the slowly shrinking palace. My home and almost prison for the last few years. Inside the shaking automobile, the only sounds were the sputtering engine and intermittent sniffles and sobs. Masha had taken to using Nikolai’s chest as a sound and tear absorber. I couldn’t find it in me to call him Fatso anymore. Olya and Tan’ka were putting on poor excuses for brave faces as they stared forward, occasionally wiping away errant tears. They had known what was going to happen for months now, and had long gotten the worst of the sobs out. Lucky them. If only to prove Alyosha wrong, I was trying my best not to wail out my emotions in a restrained fashion. I squeezed tight at the handkerchief Alyosha gave me, feeling as if it was more valuable than all the bits and bobbles in those cases. 

Mama, Papa, Alyosha, I am so sorry I couldn’t make you smile one last time.

KABOOM!

One of the decoy vehicles riding off parallel to us just in the distance vanished in a massive plume of fire and smoke. The windows shattered when the shockwave rolled over us and the vehicle listed for a moment before crashing down. Someone screamed. It takes a moment to realize it was me before I shut my mouth and the interior of the vehicle becomes deathly quiet. The world follows shortly with the only sound the rumble of travel as it speeds up.

“MIR-C through E, we have confirmed presence of hostiles. Begin aerial search and support until we reach post office. I repeat, begin aerial search and support until package reaches post office!” Sir Lockhart barked into the strange orb.

“Hold on tight ladies,” Mr. Constantine warned, just before the vehicle lurched as it passed over a divot in the road. I almost flew out of my seat before Olya and Tan’ka grab hold of me, pinning me down and covering me with their bodies as the vehicle bounced about along the unmaintained road. I spared a brief moment to glance at Masha to see Nikolai doing the same for her. My dark brown wig, unfortunately, was not saved by their embrace, flying out the now shattered window.

“Report!” Lockhart barked out once more as whistling wind rushed through the open cabin.

An unfamiliar voice emanated from the orb.“Two confirmed roadblocks, three klicks out and a dozen or so would-be cossacks enroute to intercept your position.”

“Remove them or deter them, I don't care which. What’s our ETA?” Lockhart asked.  

“On schedule if this bucket doesn’t shake itself apart. The Tsar’s regiment had understated just how shite these roads were.” Mr. Constantine was grinning in spite of his complaints as the vehicle rocked back and forth. He must be mad. How could he find this fun?!

In the distance, muted sounds of explosions could be heard. Closing my eyes, I did the only thing I could. Pray. Pray that we would make it. That the ones we had left behind would be safe and this was all just a temporary escapade. That I would see Tanya again. 

Please, just let something good happen for once.

“…will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;

    my God, in whom I trust.”

For he will deliver you from the snare of the hunter

    and from the deadly pestilence;

he will cover you with his pinions,

    and under his wings you will find refuge;

    his faithfulness is a shield and defense.

You will not fear the terror of the night

    or the arrow that flies by day…”

Huddled in with my sisters, after the longest ride of my life we arrived without further events. At least events that I was aware of. Sir Lockhart would occasionally bark out something or other, but as the explosions continued intermittently I elected to focus on the sounds of my sisters breathing. The bouncing of the vehicle as it rolled off the road, shifting and shaking in the dirt before the sound of tires rolling into sand and finally coming to a stop.

“A’ight everybody out!” Mr. Constantine yelled as he flung his door open.

My sisters lifted off of me, looking just as sore, our muscles cramped and ached just from being folded for so long. We spilled out of the passenger doors as six men dropped from the sky dressed in helmets, goggles, and heavy coats bearing the Commonwealth flag on their shoulders. Rifles were slung over their arm, with the smell of spent gunpowder wafting off them as one of them removed his goggles and helmet and Sir Lockhart rendered a salute.

“Major Drake. Good to see you sir. Thank you for the assistance,” he stated, dropping his salute after Major Drake, I presumed, returned the salute.

“There will be time for pleasantries on the ship, Sir Lockhart. E, F, grab the suitcases, the rest of you report to your assigned individual. Sir Lockhart, are you ready to sortie?”

One of the men loomed over me, handing me an odd-looking set of looped canvas straps of various lengths woven into metal rings. “Please place your foot through this loop here and your opposite arm through this one,” The man requested concisely, lifting the specified portions.

At this point I was too exhausted to argue. After doing so, he knelt in front of me and hooked the length of it over his back as he stood. In the process, I was lifted off the ground and pressed into his chest. It felt incredibly demeaning, like I was a human handbag, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. My weight was held mostly along my back and thighs through the criss-crossed straps.  

“One last thing, put these on. You'll thank me later,” he told me, handing me a pair of oversized goggles. Placing them over my eyes, I now felt utterly ridiculous. Looking over at my sisters, they were in the same position, each held by the odd harness. The absurd scene almost made me laugh as Nikolai was included in this strange display. His partner was the largest of the men, making him look quite silly pressed up against him.

“Apologies for all this, Your Highness. It should be a short flight.” An arm wrapped around my lower back as the man spoke once more, embarrassingly close to my ear. My stomach dropped as we left the ground, and I swore my heart stopped as the sound of air whooshed past me. My eyes clenched shut instinctively as my body couldn’t discern if we were falling upwards or downwards. I wrapped my limbs around the man and held on for dear life, suddenly finding out how little I trusted in the strips of canvas.

Time was proving to be a very fluid concept as short minutes were starting to go on for far too long as of recently. For only a brief moment, I found the courage to open my eyes and I saw the setting sun fall upon Rusland. The alien experience finally ended as my feet touched the rocking ship, which failed to help my lingering vertigo. Apparently, I was made of sterner stuff than Olya and Tan’ka, who immediately stumbled on shaking legs towards the railing to vomit. Masha, for herself, decided that vomiting on Nikolai was more comforting. I supposed. I elected to just splay out then and there, and wait for my organs to remember where they were supposed to be.

After we were given a moment to collect ourselves, Major Drake gathered us into what resembled a meeting room with a large single circular table and several bolted chairs. “Before we arrive in the Commonwealth, I have been instructed to inform you of what King George the Fifth and Parliament has planned for your asylum. This agreement has been made under the full authority of your father Tsar Nicholas the Second. First and foremost, you will be under the full protection of the crown until you have finalized your decision. Secondly, regardless of your decision, as of today you are Romanovs no more.”

““What!?”” Me and Masha screeched. Olya? Tan’ka? Why are you two not surprised by this? How could you accept this?! Did you know? Why didn't you tell us?

“Please understand this is both for your own protection, and regrettably, because of the public and political ramifications that may occur by accepting your asylum. You might not be aware of just how poorly the image of your father and his reign has become in the eyes of the world. From the Entente Alliance to the Unified States, your father is more commonly referred to as ‘Nicholas The Bloody’,” Major Drake elaborated.

I felt indignant anger fill me, only to sputter out and die under the weight of the physical and emotional exhaustion I felt. Masha looked as drained as I did. Even the look of wrath in her eyes lingered only for a moment before glazing over in melancholy.

“There was a time where the very idea of your asylum was considered untenable because of the possible political and social outrage. Had your father and mother not so passionately petitioned our King, there was a real possibility it might not have happened at all. They understood what we would ask of you. The Prime Minister and opposing council members had offered terms that they believed your parents would never have agreed to, and yet they had.” A world-weary sigh escaped the man before he continued.

“Your options upon arrival in the Commonwealth are to either remain in Albion, where you will be given a new identity and a minor noble title so that you may live in comfort for the rest of your lives. The other option is to leave for the Unified States, where you will receive a monthly stipend to do with as you please. These benefits are contingent upon your abdication of your titles and that you keep your identities a secret. You are not required to make any decisions quickly. As I stated, regardless of what you decide, the Crown has vowed to protect you throughout your stay in Albion.”

“What about the jewels we brought, is that payment for our ransom?” I spat. My elder sisters gasped but I was too frustrated to worry about what they thought about my actions. For how awful this whole ordeal was, what was one more indignity?

“No. The property of the family of Imperial Rus will be stored alongside the Crown's treasure until stability is returned to Rusland. The Crown will acknowledge its rightful owner and return the property to the reigning monarch at such time. I know you may not believe my words, but I swear to you that any monetary allowances provided will not be paid for by the selling of what you have brought with you. Furthermore, the Crown will allow those in asylum to retain any one piece of jewelry of their choosing, barring for the Orb, to do with as they see fit.” He sounded honest at least.

“If no monarch arises?” Masha surprised me as she asked the question.

“Then they will remain safe and kept under the protection of the Crown.”

“When will you bring my brother and parents to us?” Screw the shiny rocks. I want my family.

“I cannot say. Any plans in that regard are significantly beyond my paygrade.”

I guess I’ll just have to ask the king himself, then.

DECEMBER 26 th ,1921, IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, CHARITE HOSPITAL

Vera Ignatievna Gedroits

“You did what?!” 

At least my charge had the decency to look guilty wincing at my words. “Joining the military! Of all the foolish actions you could have decided upon, why in God’s name would you do such a thing, Tanya?” When she informed me that she had volunteered for military servic,e that emotional blow was compounded by the earlier disclosure that our home was naught but ash now.

“I have legitimate reasons, Vera, if you would give me a moment to explain.” Two porcelain hands raised themselves in defense as chagrin crimson eyes stared back at me.

“Legitimate? Tanya, military enlistment is not a minor decision. Imperial mages are placed in the forefront of combat as a rule! Why? Why didn't you come to me before sentencing yourself to such fate? Do you not trust us to care for you?”

“No! I mean I do trust you. Both of you. So much.” The hurt in her eyes was a splash of cold water on my worries. “Just please let me explain Vera. Please.”

“Fine. Explain but Tanya know this, if I don’t find your reasoning, no even if I find your reasoning compelling, that will not change how I feel about what you’ve done.” My jaw set as I choked back the torrent of words that wanted to spill forth.

“Staying would put you and Mom in danger. We got lucky this time, Vera. I can’t risk a next time. I can’t…Won’t lose either of you while I have the power to avoid it. We couldn’t save Maria. I barely saved us. So long as I am near you there will be a next time.” 

A flurry of emotions assailed me. Hearing Tanya call Masha ‘Mom’ unprompted was unbearably bittersweet in light of the situation. Frustration from the bitter truth in her words filled me like thick bile. 

Bastards. It’s been seven years, and now they find us. And for what? What threat did we pose to them that they would attack us with such brazen fury? As far as I was aware the aristocratic faction of Imperial Rus was long gone, and it was the ‘Russy Federation’ now. Was it personal? Even if it was, how had they found us? Masha and I have kept reasonable paranoia ever since our experience with the Count. Neither of us had noticed any spying, or at least Masha had never spoken of such a thing to me. A cold chill descended upon me at the thought that someone had sold us out.

“Tanya. Do you think so little of me?” I felt so tired asking such a question. Perhaps she was right to.

“Vera, there are three people in this world I care about in any capacity. I think of you two very highly.” A faint blush filled the ears and cheeks of the normally stoic girl’s countenance at the admission. “That is exactly why I am doing this. It’s a two-year contract and as soon as it’s up I plan on returning safe and sound. Trust me, I have no desire to be a career soldier. In that time, I want you to keep Mom safe and be ready for us to leave the Empire if we have to.”

She paused, huffing. “Vera, if I thought there was any other option I would have gladly run to you first. You’ve both made it very clear that you would protect me. I just don’t want to see you have to and leave me alone. I’m not a toddler anymore. If they are looking for anyone, it’s me. They might be brave or stupid enough to attack in public, but in a military facility? Even communists aren’t that stupid,” she declared flippantly.

“You’re still a child, Tanya.”

A precocious and precious child, but a child nonetheless.

“I am well aware, Vera, and so is the Empire. They are unlikely to just throw me into danger on a whim for that very reason.”

“Tanya, if I find out you are in harm’s way, I will personally march up to your cousin the Kaiser and let him know exactly who you are.” 

I had to make an effort to not smile at Tanya’s pale and gaping expression from my statement. A war was certain death, while the noble court was a slow one. She may never forgive me for the latter, but she would be alive. Princess was a title I had happily abandoned the first chance I got for surgeon, and while I had no regrets, Tanya may not be able to pivot so easily.

“I know this might be unreasonable given my recent action, but I ask that we at least have a discussion before taking such drastic actions.” 

A wry smile crossed my face at her words. Precocious child indeed. The smile faded as rather concerning thought crossed my mind.

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. Herr Windheim has graciously offered to help expedite my enlistment. By my reasoning, leaving sooner would be for the best, before some idiot gets the bright idea to attack the hospital. Again, I’m sorry that it’s so short notice and if you would not mind passing on my apologies to Mom. I will write as soon as I can, I promise.” At least she had the decency to look chagrin at her request.

I facepalmed in exasperation. She was going to be the death of me. What was I supposed to tell Masha when she woke up? Oh no worries, dear, Tanya and I had a very reasonable conversation, so it’s okay that she ran off and joined the military. She would throttle me, and I wouldn’t blame her for doing so.

“Tanya…If not for those very specific circumstances at this moment, I would be marching over to the police chief and performing a craniotomy to understand just what the hell he was thinking,” I ground out.” Fine. I will speak with Masha when she wakes, but you owe me. Promise me that you will make every opportunity to return home when possible.” 

Masha being in a coma, as well as being effectively homeless meant any arguments I had for Tanya staying with me were entirely irrational. Rationality was a bitter bastard at the best of times.

“I promise!”

Staying upset while seeing such earnest eyes was an impossible challenge. Those crimson irises had long ceased being disconcerting now they were but a symbol of someone deeply precious to me. I engulfed my daughter into a tight embrace. She was still so small. She was just now starting to really grow, only recently standing just under five feet. I worried she would take after her mother, but she had grown strong, showing none of the signs of the hemophilia that had plagued her heredity.

Blessed by God. Right, Maria?

Chapter Text

DECEMBER 31 ^st  ,1921, 2300 HOURS

IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, CHARITE HOSPITAL

Vera Ignatievna Gedroits

Oh Masha, I beg of you. Please wake up.

What am I supposed to do?

I had never been the most in tune with my femininity; in that way me and Tanya were quite alike. Pants, overcoats, ties, and beaver caps. The standard fashion of men was more preferable than the dresses and corsets. I empathized with the precocious girl’s desire to avoid society’s standard of dress for young girls, as I also felt there was comfort in pants that even the least restrictive of dresses could not provide.

This preference for the more masculine standard was in part influenced by my career. After all, in a male dominated field, dressing the part helped deflect the initial gender role expectations. I did not resent being born a woman despite the challenges it placed upon me. Indeed, there was something to relish in overcoming the dismissive views that were held. 

For all my efforts, the world still saw a woman first. Hans Schultz had been a godsend upon our arrival in Schonenberg, being our designated cosigner for property purchases. We had floated the idea of a marriage of convenience at one point, but as the years passed and no major roadblocks appeared it had fallen to the wayside. Doctor Bier was the only reason I had a position in Charite. He was one of the only men willing to take a chance on a woman, despite all the qualifications I possessed. For everything I had accomplished, it still required a man to legitimize it all.

The idea of adoption while in Rus had been a recurring topic between me and Masha, but the logistics made it implausible. No church or orphanage would be keen to allow two spinsters to adopt easily, for how could they expect two women to provide for a child without a man? Here even more so; this was the ‘Fatherland’ after all.

Now I lamented how much I had deviated from those expectations. Decades spent reigning in and regulating my emotions to avoid the criticism that I was another ‘hysterical’ woman had left me woefully unprepared for raising a child. Especially one so intelligent, one that I resonated and empathized with so much. I may have smothered whatever I had of my ‘motherly instincts’ through my own pursuits, I feared. 

My Masha surely would have had the words to convince Tanya out of that foolish plan. How was I going to explain why I had let our daughter join the military? That she had a good reason and it was a logical decision? I would take the inevitable verbal pummeling happily over this silence. 

The fact Masha was alive at all was a genuine miracle. I didn’t know what magic Tanya used but there had been no signs of major cerebral edema despite the severe trauma.

“Moya dusha, if you don’t wake up soon I’ll have to start praying to the Lord in earnest.”

Perhaps it was the inherently restrictive nature of the Orthodox church, but my connection with the Lord was a tenuous one. The teachings just describe to me yet another man who demanded respect on the basis of their existence. Prayers did not stop the bleeding. In the most dire of moments, the most amazing miracles I had seen occur were powered by mortal connections, and even those were so incredibly rare that they could not be simple coincidences. Since Tanya had come into my life, it seemed miracles were occurring with such frequency that I had begun to truly believe in them.

I could not pray to the Church with sincerity, as the teachings and expectations were antithetical to my own ideology and identity. However, the Protestant ideas of the Empire aligned much more clearly. I could not and would not pray to a mortal priest, but a power genuinely beyond my own? That I could pray to. Even still I was reluctant to do so. I had spent so long pantomiming the motions and verbiage that some part of me felt it would be disingenuous.

“Lord, I don't know if you are listening. I would not blame you if you were not. I know that what little I have said to you in the last few decades have been questions or accusations without answer. I have spent my life learning to save others, yet now my love is beyond my help. Please, I beg of you let my love awaken. For all my skepticism, your gift of bringing Tanya into this world and my life have washed those away. Whatever trials you have planned for that poor girl, don’t take the closest thing to a mother she has had from her. Don’t take my Masha from me. Please.”

Looking at my love, she was as unmoving as she had been for the last seven days. The hair around her wound had been shaved away exposing the tender stitched flesh. The hair would grow back, but that was going to leave a permanent scar. Terrible irrational guilt filled my chest. She was as beautiful to me as ever, even now as she thinned under a liquid diet. Why didn’t I leave work earlier? I could’ve been there. I could have prevented this. Tanya would not have had to join the damned military if I had.

Just.

Left.

Earlier.

Taking in a shuddering breath I reigned in the accusatory thoughts. They were simply a waste of energy. Even if I had left earlier, could I have even stopped those men? I was not a career soldier, maybe I could have fought off one unprepared. Seven years ago, I might have held a higher expectation for my combat abilities but age slowed everyone. My personal knife enhanced with magic and body reinforcement was enough that I was sure I could reasonably defend myself. Fighting against two men willing to engage in a fight to the death, however,  would not be without injury. At best, I could have kept Masha from taking on such a grievous injury and at worst I would have joined her in a hospital bed. I absolutely could not have replicated the results Tanya had.

Walking into that terrible scene, it was only a lifetime of dispassionate observation of human internals that kept my wits about me. Again, Maria, you and Grigori were wrong. She was no griffin. Rather not for the first time, I wondered if she was one of the legendary Zmeya made flesh. She could have been a reincarnation of the devil and it would change nothing about my love for the young girl. In yet another miracle, Tanya had saved herself and my Masha from a threat none of us had been prepared for.

For years now I had sequestered her magic talent from the notice of the Empire. The reasons were multiple. Military conscription was unfortunately one of the least terrible outcomes for Tanya, had they known. Noble families from the Kaiser’s court have always valued magic potential, and her power would have made her an incredibly desirable match for some ambitious family to marry their son off too. The internal noble politics would have fought tooth and nail for such a valuable asset. A male heir of noble blood with even a fraction of her power was a dream come true for those vipers.

That was if her identity had been kept secret, which would have become an impossibility once noble attention was fully centered upon her. Were he to learn of her lineage, the Kaiser would be sure to personally snatch her up and ensure someone of his decision was paired with her. The political value she held was a sword of Damocles that would hang over Tanya’s head for the rest of her life. My threat to Tanya was legitimate, but a last resort. How the noble court would react to our withholding of such knowledge was uncertain. Regardless of if it was imprisonment, exile, or disregard, Masha and I would likely no longer be able to stay with Tanya… 

A choking gasp snapped me out of my dour musings as Masha’s eyes fluttered open, wild and frightened. Oh, thank you, Lord. Thank you.  

“Masha! You're safe, it's okay. Be calm my dear,” I reassured as I rushed to her side. Her last memory might just be of the attack. “Shh, you're safe moya dusha. Here, drink. You have been in a coma for seven days.” 

Gingerly placing the cup of water to her lips. She drank greedily as her shaky hands met mine, the fear in her eyes fading into confusion and the intense worry.

“Tanya.. Where is Tanya? Is she okay?” Her voice rasped from disuse as she coughed between words. Masha was moving to stand, all but scrambling to leave the bed in search of our daughter. The only reason I wasn’t already chasing my love down the hospital hallways was because of how weak she became over the last few days.

“She’s alive and well, Masha. We have much to discuss but please calm yourself my dear you were hurt badly.”  I pressed her back into the bed, gently, but firmly and gave her a chaste kiss. “I will tell you everything but please… Masha. I had no way of knowing if you were going to wake up,” I choked out, gripping her hands with mine with relief as the weight of worry and fear fell off me. 

A wince crossed her face as she pulled away one of her hands, reaching up to the new stitches, the pain returning as the endorphins bled from her. The dam I had built against the troubling emotions from the last few days gave way and I broke down, sobbing. Masha pulled me into an awkward embrace across the hospital bed. She had only just awoken, and our roles had swapped. The comfort of the embrace bled into the mix of relief and guilt that swirled in my mind.

“I’m here, Vera. I’m alive, my princess.” A weak chuckle escaped between shuddering breaths. I never thought I would be so happy to hear that damnable pet name. “I’m sorry I worried you, my love.” Another fear that had plagued my mind since our arrival at the hospital slipped away. She was still my Masha. She remembered us and still loved us. “Oh, Vera. You look miserable my dear. When did you last sleep?” 

Seven days with the minimum amount of sleep and food I could get by had done me no favors, it seems.

Composing myself, I pulled away from her arms and tried to ready myself for the justified reprimand that was sure to come. “Sorry dear, I’ve been too preoccupied with worry to care for myself. Masha…” I struggled to find the words. “Tanya’s magical aptitude was tested five days ago.” The look of horror crossed over Masha’s face as an involuntary gasp escaped her.

“Vera. Where is she.”

“After the attack and our arrival at the hospital the apartment had caught fire. Thankfully, Hans and Igel have already arranged living arrangements for us. Several of their employees have already moved what survived the fire into the new space. From the latest police report, it was an accidental gas fire due to faulty piping so we are not being held liable.” I was stalling. I knew I was stalling, but my mouth and mind raged against me as I rambled.

“Vera. Where is she.” I felt my throat close hearing her speak in that tone of voice. The same tone she used when she had given me the choice between loving or losing her.

“I’m so sorry. She volunteered, Masha. I didn’t know what to do. She called you mom.” Masha’s stone face blurred as the tears came back. They stung my face as fear and frustration snarled me in a crushing grasp. I was the only adult our daughter could trust, and I had lost her. I let her leave.

“Vera.”

I couldn’t look at her. Shame, frustration and fear had me firmly entangled. I was supposed to be the strong one. I had a responsibility, and I had failed. Not just Masha, but myself and Tanya also. 

A warm hand laid across my cheek and gently wiped away the burning tears. I held tight to the lifeline as it pulled me from the tumultuous emotions.

“Shh. Vera, look at me,” she cooed.

I took a deep shuddering breath, and slowly opened my stinging eyes to meet her gaze. Two chestnut eyes stared through me, painfully filled with love and worry. It was almost worse than disappointment and fury. 

“Vera. My love where is our daughter?” She asked once more in a quiet whisper.

My mouth felt like it was filled with ash. “She… She joined the aerial mage corps. A two-year contract.”  

“Is she safe?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“Is she fed and warm?”

“I believe so.”

“Then, my dear, it seems we have to catch up to her.” She pulled me in for a brief kiss and rested her forehead on mine. “I have more questions, my love, and you have much more to explain, but I trust you. I’ve always trusted you. You are the most brilliant woman I have ever known. If you believed you could have kept Tanya with us, you would have. So please stop tearing yourself apart in front of me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t know who I was apologizing to.

[center]JUNE 1918, MIETSHÄUSER IN SCHÖNEBERG, CURRENT GEDROITS RESIDENCE[/center]

Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 7

“Tanya, our focus next week will be on Chronicles 1 and further practicing your Francois,” Masha said as she began packing away her teaching materials, carefully maneuvering in the confined space.

The small one-bedroom apartment was more like a closet. From the door you could see the entire room, holding a sink, a single bed, dresser, a small stove, heater, and a table with just enough room for two individuals to stand side-by-side. 

The table was cluttered with newspapers and Masha’s growing collection of teaching supplies. In a maddening quirk of this world biblical studies was apparently a mandatory expectation. Our outings now included a weekly visit to the local church for service. Those ‘services’ set my teeth on edge, as I feared that one day that damned devil would appear to mock me for being in such a place, however unwillingly.

“Masha, could we not instead focus on life sciences and Francois next week?” I was getting sick of having to memorize and recite these passages.

The only reason I had ever agreed to was because of the reaction I had received from the head nun at the local volksschule. Separation of church and state was unfortunately not the reality in the Empire, despite their devotion to reason and logic. I was not enthused in having the decision of knowing my enemy made for me in the first place, but as we continued in our studies, I still found myself far from being converted. Further from it, if it was possible. There was some comfort, I supposed, in learning that even in the tales written by that devil’s followers, there were others who had suffered by their capricious nature.

“Tanya, if I had the knowledge to provide such tutelage, I would. Igel and I have been looking for an additional tutor to cover what Vera and I are not educated in. Why are you so opposed to reading the bible?” She asked, her amused expression doing nothing to dim my frustrations. “Your ravenous intelligence has quickly covered the majority of what we have to teach you, and I am reluctant to even say I am qualified to be teaching you Francois.”

“I find it to be a misappropriation of time I could be using to study topics.”

Useful topics. Stories from an old book might make the nuns and priests willing to converse with me but I doubted it would lead to a successful and stable career. Actually, I wanted nothing to do with a career that tethers me to such an unstable individual. I could capitulate to match the optics and expectations of this society, but the sooner I can move to a more rational region, the better.

Masha smiled warmly at me. It was strange, just how needlessly kind these two women were. Logically, they should have dumped me at an orphanage and put as much distance as they could from me. I could understand respecting Maria’s wishes after her sacrifice, but personally raising me felt excessive. Their distrust of the contact we were supposed to meet up with in the Empire was mutual; I would have rather run away and chanced living on the streets than deal with another possible betrayal. It was disconcerting how comfortable and attached I had become to these two.

The nightmares of being chased, of hunger and cold still occurred occasionally. Even now, when meandering the streets during our outings I found myself with my head on a swivel. Vera and Masha held similar practices. The only place I ever felt safe was in this stupid closet, when they are both home. Those irrational fears made sharing a bed a comfort rather than what should be an uncomfortable embarrassment.

Masha had started suggesting that I refer to her as mom or mother when we are out, and it was disturbing just how easy it had come to me. I worried that I may have developed a complex of some sort as a reaction from those horrible experiences. 

My experiences with my biological mothers thus far have been subpar; Masha being the closest experience I have had to someone who mirrored idealized mothers in fiction. My first mother was neither abusive nor cruel, just traditional distant, prioritizing discipline and instilling values over emotional bonding. My second mother, Empress Alexandra’s personal involvement with me began and ended with my birth. 

Masha, on the other hand, was different. She was still my superior, yet she lavished me with kindly attention, which was as uncomfortable as it was comforting. Thankfully, she seemed to know when to give me space instead of smothering, and even then, she would never leave me truly alone, always close by if I needed or wanted her presence. Still, the nagging question of why she and Vera were doing this refused to leave. I understood Maria to an extent, and while I had no real intention of following the plan she had laid out for me, I could rationalize her decisions…but only right up until that day. It was utterly baffling.

I left the bed, the only other sitting area in this room for study, and wandered over to the sink to clean off my slate. It was no longer my only possession, yet it held a sentimental value that I could not quite articulate. In attempting to apply the framework that I had meticulously followed until my murder to this life, I found it was misaligned in the face of my experiences. There was no reason to abandon it, of course. The rational economic values I had come to rely on had their place in this world. After all, capitalism was alive and well within the Empire and that was all the reassurance I needed.

The moral and societal standards of this world, however, stood juxtaposed to the modern one only I could remember. 

No, the framework was sound. It was the basis for the economic analysis that had shifted.; the intent was to “maximize welfare as the individual conceives it”, after all. It was merely that this world and its insanity had rendered the modern welfare ideals I had defaulted to useless. That internal discovery shifted something in my subconscious as irreconcilable concepts took more manageable forms.

The doorknob to our apartment shifted as Vera twisted the lock open. As she walked in, Masha's eyes lit up as always. The depth of just how devoted she was to her partner never failed to impress me. Marriage and relationships were social contracts used to combine the value of two individuals to allow for larger investments into their future; at least that was the understanding I had assigned to the concepts. In observing Masha and Vera, while their joint relationship allowed for a higher economic standard of living, I found that the mental and emotional value they gained from their relationship was the primary benefit. It was not as if I had neglected to consider these benefits originally, but using my original parents as a basis, the expected return value was quite low compared to the economic gains. There was something incredibly intriguing about how even at our lowest points, Mash and Vera’s combined presence seemed to alleviate their individual worries. 

As they went about their traditional greeting of physical affections, I finished putting away my study materials, sneering at the personal bible I now owned. Today it was Vera’s turn for our outing as Masha had her weekly salon to attend to. They made an effort to spend time with me equally when possible, another unnecessary gesture I found myself rather grateful for.

Vera scooted past Masha through the small room towards me and gave me a brief embrace and a small peck on the forehead. 

I was slowly, ever so slowly, becoming more comfortable with physical displays of affection. With how intimate the quarters were, it was more of a rarity to not be in physical contact in some form. Sleeping has become a routine of devolving into a jumble of limbs on the single bed. It could be rather comfortable during the winter months, but in even the generally mild summers could be a miserably sweaty experience. These last few years have been the most amount of skinship I had ever experienced. 

Today she smelled of disinfectants and peppermint oil. The first was a standard, the latter meant today she had participated in something that involved rather unpleasant scents. The clinics she found work at were varied, and apparently she worked for Igel personally on occasion. It paid the bills and kept us fed, so I didn’t pry. Besides, I was not particularly interested in medical practice.

“Good afternoon, Tanya. Are you ready to go out or do you still have more to put away?”

“I’m done, just let me get my shoes on.”

Another economic concern was my own growth as my clothes and shoes seemed to shrink overnight. More dresses. Vera, at least, was my comrade in suffering. Her preferred outfits were considered ‘indecent’ for a woman. Thankfully because of her understanding, I got to eschew the frills and bows for more simple smock dresses and pinafores. Vera often toed the line of what was acceptable wearing overcoats and trousers when she could get away with it. In these  warmer months she wore the more traditional feminine attire, though always with an overcoat of some kind.

“We’ll be back soon, love,” She told Masha, giving her a kiss before our departure and dropping off her bag and groceries.

“Where are we going today?”

“I was thinking that we would walk around Rudolph-Wilde-Park and make a stop by the bakery. Some sun and fresh air will do you good, Tanya. How your skin manages to stay so pale is yet another wonder of your nature.”  

I pouted at her jab. It was not as if I was trying to avoid the sun and even when I stayed out for prolonged periods, at best I got a sunburn. It seemed tanning well was not something I had inherited. I grabbed and donned my plain hat as we left our home, giving out polite greetings to our neighbors who populated the hallways and front entrance of the apartment.

At Masha’s request I had tried to interact with the other children. That was a rather lackluster experience. Firstly, they were children, and I had very little in common with them, which made for rather uncomfortable interactions. Secondly, as children do, they formed their own primitive social hierarchy amongst them and the eldest boy Wilheim thought it wise to try and secure his position by threatening me. Masha doesn’t ask me to interact with them anymore. The adults, however, have been rather appreciative now that the more rambunctious of the children seemed to be far more subdued since our arrival.

As we walked down the park, that persistent question gnawed at me. 

“Vera, can we stop for a moment? I want to speak with you about something.”

She spared me only a brief inquisitive glance before nodding as we wandered over to one of the more isolated benches away from the path. As we sat I sifted through my thoughts, trying to organize them before I spoke.

“This is something I can’t speak to Masha about this as she would be… hurt by what I want to ask.”

“Well Tanya, thank you for trusting me and for considering Masha’s feelings. Now what has you so concerned? I have not seen you look so concerned since we left the volksschule after the Mother Superior nearly had a coronary.”

 “How was I to know that she would react so poorly to my eye color?!”

“We had warned her too,” Vera commented in between barking laughs. At least one of us found my misfortune amusing. I waited for her mirth to settle before I spoke again.

 “Vera. Why… Why did you two keep me? Why take that additional risk?”

“…Tanya, are you unhappy with us?”

“No! I mean your company is very agreeable. I mean… I am happy… living with you two.” The words came out slowly and disjointed. The phrase ‘I am happy’ was strange to say out loud. Of course, I had many things I am unhappy about also. Our economic situation could be better, and I would prefer that we were far away from the possibility of being intertwined with a possible world war. 

Vera sported an expression of mixed amusement and relief. This was stupid, why did I even ask that question?

“Good. That’s… good. Well, I now see why you couldn’t speak about this with Masha. Tanya, why don’t you tell me what you think our options were. So that I can understand better what your worries are.”

“I can think of three distinct rational choices you had. You could have taken me to the contact Maria had in the Empire. You could have revealed my lineage and left me with the nobility of the Empire. Lastly you could have left me at one of the many churches or orphanages.”

“How long have you had these worries Tanya?”

“Please don’t patronize me, Vera. I thought we understood each other well enough by now.”

“Fine, fine, you precocious brat. Masha and I have spoken about this topic before. I believe we are of like mind that whatever contact Maria had in the Empire cannot be reasonably trusted after our last unfortunate meeting with one of these contacts,” Vera went on after a brief laugh. 

“Yes, but you still could have done so. It would have fulfilled your obligations to me and Maria.”

“Tanya, Maria would not have wanted us to put you in possible danger so flippantly. Even from a selfish perspective, if the contact was compromised, that would have unquestionably placed our lives at risk. Therefore, option one was never going to occur without Maria’s presence. Your other two suggestions would have had the ghost of Maria Ivanova haunt us for the rest of our days. Likewise, abandoning you to the foreign nobles or orphanages of the Empire would be an absolute insult to the promise we made to her.”

“I am a liability, Vera. Maybe we got lucky and they just gave up looking for me, but there will always be a chance someone is still searching. So long as I am around that threat never goes away.”

“Tanya, do you believe that Masha and I would have an easier life without you? We are two middle aged foreign lesbian spinsters. Our lives were never going to be easy, nor safe. There is no reason to shy away from our challenges child. More importantly Tanya, we enjoy caring for you. We love you, you silly child.”

“Why? What do you expect from me?”

“Expectations? I can’t say that I have any particular expectations for you. I have wants. I want for you to grow up healthy, well-fed and warm. I want to see you reach whatever goals you aspire to. I want to find someone you can love and be loved by. I am quite certain that Masha would say the same.”

“That seems rather idealistic of you, Vera. What if I decide to do nothing and just leech off of the two of you into your old age and then abandon you?”

She let out a bark of a laugh. “Tanya, you couldn’t do nothing even if you wanted to. You fidget and shift the moment we leave you without something to focus on. No, your nature like my own prohibits simple complacency. If you decided that you wanted nothing to do with Masha and I you would have left by now, and I doubt either of us could have found you easily. If you want to complain about idealism, you’ve no one to blame but yourself. Your very existence made idealists out of Maria, Grigori and well as myself and Masha.”

I frowned, unsure how I felt about her words.

“I… I don’t know what I am supposed to do, Vera or what you want from me.”

“Tanya, you don’t have to do anything. You can just be Tanya. Masha and I have decided since the train that no matter what, you are our family now. Whether or not you have made that same decision is up to you. Regardless, we will care and love you as family.”

“Why? Why do that?”

“Tanya, some of the greatest miseries in this world are hunger and loneliness. Keeping you with us is the only way we saw to spare you from both. You may not be lonely in an orphanage, but you could certainly go hungry. Counter to this, as a noble you would never be hungry, but even surrounded by others you would never be more alone.”

In the evening breeze as we sat on that bench, I wondered if it was this body that was the reason why I felt so overwhelmed. I took a deep breath. This was as close to an ideal environment I was likely to get in which I could optimally increase my human capital without unrealistic expectations. Masha and Vera were willing to heavily invest in my wellbeing. Whether or not they expected a return on this investment was not certain. Their choice might as well be a great example of Pareto improvement. All parties benefited without worsening anyone’s position.

“I… I think I would like to be family.”

Two strong arms wrapped me in a fierce hug. “You precocious child. Thank you for trusting us.”

1923 MAGE OFFICER SCHOOL, BERUN

Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 12

 When I awoke from that fond memory, my first experience was the familiar throbbing in my shins. With a hiss I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I rolled out of bed and began to put on my uniform. I lamented just how sedentary I was prior to joining. The daily marches and runs had been hell on my legs thankfully my shin splints seem to be finally on the verge of recovering. I was only just tall and strong enough that rifle qualification was in the realm of possibility, even if the bruises on my shoulder were a painful consequence. Combat sparing was more of an exercise in humiliation both for myself and my partner. Grabbing what was now my third computation orb, I cringed at the embarrassing memory it triggered.

“Cadets, today you will be given your computation orb. This is the Volker Arms Mark 12 Model T. Your first task of the day is to synchronize with your individual orbs before 1300 hours. After you have successfully synchronized, inform myself or Sergeant Major Kruger. Not all cadets are able to accomplish this task quickly, so if you require assistance do not be afraid to speak up.”

The pocket watch sized object placed in front of me filled me with more dread than any threat of discipline thrown my way thus far. The premise was simple: hold the orb flow mana into the orb and wait for the flow to stabilize. Remembering my last interaction with an orb at hospital, this one was not only not shielded and I was expected to hold it in my hand also.

“Cadet Degurechaff, staring at the orb will not expedite this process. Or perhaps your delicate ears did not hear the instructions. Or do we need to bring in a translator?”

I clenched my teeth. Assistant Sergeant Major Hofmann seemed to take personal offense to my presence in ‘his’ military. My mistakes? That I was both a woman and foreign born. Perhaps he could have overlooked one of these issues, but the combination was apparently intolerable.

“Apologizes, Assistant Sergeant Major. I am concerned that I might overload the orb.”

“Cadet Degurechaff, that is just the kind of fanciful worry I would expect from you. Cadets! Listen up. If any of you have any concerns about ‘overloading’ the orb as Cadet Degurechaff holds, let me assuage your worries. The Type 12 Model T is designed specifically as a training tool. It emphasizes redundancy and stability over its original design at the cost of reduction in versatility and was supplanted by the Type 13 currently in use. Unless you happen to be in the upper five percentile of mages in the Empire you will not overload this orb even if you tried.”

He made a pointed stare in my direction. Fine then. I wanted to avoid a scene, but since I was already the center of attention that no longer mattered. I wanted to believe the NCO that I wasn’t going to render this orb into slag at best or a bomb at worst, but I had my doubts.

“Assistant Sergeant Major, will there be disciplinary measures if the orb is damaged during synchronization?”

“Cadet, you are trying my patience.”

“I apologize for the frustration I am causing sir. Regrettably, I must insist that I receive an answer before I continue.”

“Cadet Degurechaff, should the orb provided to you fail for some impossible reason, you will be provided with another. Intentionally damage the orb, and your wages will be garnished until you have repaid its cost. Now enough stalling, either synchronize with your orb or give me a legitimate reason to have you removed from the aerial mage program.”

“Understood, sir.”

I was not going to hold on to a potential bomb without being absolutely sure, however. Directing my mana as thinly as possible into it, the core began to spin up on the desk, manifesting an outflow of a turbulent wave of fraying mana. Looking around at my fellow cadets, their flow was more like a mirrored ribbon fed through their orb. I redoubled my focus, and as I had feared channeling my mana in increments meant that, while I wasn’t going to immediately melt the damn thing, the flow was shaky and uneven. The internals of the orb refused to synchronize as the flow flickered between above and at spec.

“Cadet Degurechaff, what is your malfunction, grab the orb before begin-“

Before he could finish his tirade, the orb began to spiral out of control as my focus waned for just a moment. The core immediately overheated, and the safety features slammed the flow shut. In normal circumstances, the failsafe prevents a cascading failure. In my case, the excess mana within the system was far above the expected standard, resulting in the mana reacting violently, fusing the internals and making a rather expensive sounding squeal erupt from the orb.

The room fell entirely silent as my orb smoked and sputtered, with the glass cracking and the desk slowly scorching beneath it. The Assistant Sergeant Major for the first time since my arrival at this facility, bore an expression other than placid annoyance. Reaching for his own orb, he applied a fire extinguishing and cooling formula over my orb before grabbing it off the desk. As he inspected it, he found the glass that covered it all but disintegrated, and the internals looked less like the clockwork internals it once held, but an avant-garde art piece of fused metals. The shock on his face vanished under his practice mask once after a moment.

“Alright, enough gawking! Those of you who are done, get out, the rest of you stay seated and I will assist you in time. Cadet Degurechaff, get up and follow me.”

I gave the appropriate response and rose to my feet. The practice position and marching steps that were now ingrained kept me lagging just slightly behind him as we left the lecture room. Leaving the room alongside us was the Sergeant Major.

“I’ll take over from here, Hofmann.”

“Yes sir, here is the cadet’s orb.” He paused for a moment and swallowed thickly, “Cadet Degurechaff, I apologize. Should you manage to wrangle that magic of yours, the Empire would be lucky to have you.”

“I-Thank you sir!” That was unexpected. Receiving an apology for destroying government property was not the response I anticipated. He gave me a brisk nod before turning and reentering the lecture hall.  

“Well Cadet, you've made quite a show in there. Let's take a walk over to Logistics and see if we can find a way to make use of such talent.”

After that I burned out two more of the Model 12s before I was able to effectively utilize the orb without it spontaneously self-destructing. 

Honestly, the world before and after I was able to use formulaic magic felt entirely different. The structure of formulaic magic was much more easily comprehensible to me over the esoteric method I was taught. The method I had to use was rather unrefined, but with practice I was certain I could improve upon it. The ‘ribbon’ imagery was an impossibility for me. Instead, I pivoted to a bucket mentality. In essence, fill a bucket of water and pour it from high enough to fill a cup. A waste, but it spared the cup the brunt of the impact. Throw a wide and dispersed pulse of mana rather than attempt to meter out a consistent stream.

Then we moved on to the flight spell.

My first flight was simultaneously the most frightening and freeing experience I’ve ever had. The careful calculations and mental energy required to avoid overloading my orb in a panic as I soared through the sky was as exhilarating as it was exhausting. I was, unfortunately, behind in flight hours compared to my peers after the instructors had seen the difficulties I had with my orb. As the training schedule moved ever forward, I would simply have to make up for them at my first posting.

A rather clever trick I discovered was that the vstavlya spell had uses beyond just passing ideas to others. I could spin up a formula through the orb and then use it as a sort of pseudo-orb, trading mana for brain power. It resulted in horrific headaches, but the utility of such a technique was well worth it. Repeated use of the same spell seemed to reduce the severity of the headache each time, though I doubted it would ever be a pain free action.

Now today I would be assuming my duties as an upperclassman instructor. As frustrating as it was to admit, the persona of a soldier was quite simple to assume. It was almost like being new blood at a corporation; once you understood the rules and expectations, so long as what you displayed aligned with your superiors’ ideals, you were fine. The hundreds of hours I spent as nothing more than a small hobby in my past life found great use during my time here.

As one of the few women at this school, the small luxuries of a private room were almost worth the tedious sneers and dismissals from those who expected little from a girl. I think I saw one other woman here, but it seems she dropped out. Making my way down the quiet section of the dorms, I headed over to the small stage where I would greet the new students. Looking back at my experience, my expectations of the average candidate were rather low. The field training exercise I had been previously part of was an absolute mess, forcing me to find and gather the lost units who were led by incompetents.

Standing on the raised platform, the collection of individuals in front of me made me lament my position. Interspersed between the slightly uneven lines were those that couldn’t even maintain the most basic bearing, snickering or sneering at me as I paced across the wood.

“You few that have managed to earn the right to stand on this ground in front of this hallowed building, congratulations. I am your upperclassman instructor, First Class Cadet Tanya Degurechaff. You stand on the ground and history of those who went on to guide and defend the Fatherland. My job is to ensure that you meet the minimum expectations placed upon you. For those of you who are unaware, we have the great fortune to enjoy peace in our time while our neighbors have been posturing to threaten that peace. With that in mind. Should you fail to demonstrate even the most basic competencies expected of you, I will personally remove you from this course for the safety of myself and those who would come to rely upon you.”

I meant some of my words at least I wasn’t entirely deceitful. Patriotism, or at least the loud proclamation of it was a requirement to avoid negative perceptions of those above me. I had no intention of dying for this country. All I had to do was display the role expected of me and finish out my contract with no complaints. Then somehow wrangle my mothers into leaving the Empire.

“Let me be perfectly clear: this is not hell. Hell is a place experienced by combat veterans and refugees. Keep your complaints to yourself. Do as you're told and keep your mouth shut, and if the Empire is lucky we might actually get an aerial mage out of your sorry group.”

That got their attention and the poorly disciplined young men ceased their inaudible chatter and finally focused. Useless. I don’t want you to be here either, so go home. What kind of idiot with magic willing joins the military?

“What did you say you Russy brat?! Why the hell should we listen to you?”

Oh good, a volunteer. I activated a flight formula and slammed into the formation. My boots got firmly planted on the boisterous young man’s chest. He let out a wheezy exhale from the impact and the others dispersed around us.

“The Empire’s military represents the Kaiser. If you, an insignificant maggot, think you know better than the General Staff or the fine instructors of this institution, do everyone a favor and quit before you shame not only yourself but me and the Kaiser himself. Let me get something through your empty skull: if you are unable to follow the most basic concept of respecting your superiors, why should I believe you are capable of being anything other than being a waste of resources?”

I scowled down at the man squirming beneath my heel. He reminded me of that other waste of space who had pushed me into a train. Well, that was a rather frustrating and unnecessary thought.

“Get up,” I told him as I stepped off of him and glared at the other gawking idiots, “Listen up and listen well! This brave idiot has volunteered to be a demonstration for you lot. I want to make this very clear: this is your last and only warning. Either rise to the bare minimum expected of you, or leave.” 

I looked at the young man who had rolled over, anger visible in his eyes as his diaphragm tried to reset itself. “You wanted to know why you should listen to me? Let’s make sure you never forget, then.” 

The anger in his eyes shrank into fear as I grabbed him by his hair. My self-experimentation with the vstavlya had born several useful fruits. Besides the parallel casting to help minimize the chances of orb failure, I think I’ve finally discovered a way to actually use the damn thing without the worry of frying the recipient through mana saturation. Computation orbs really are a game changer.

The vstavlya wasn’t a formula, but the exchange ratio for mana could be calculated. Let’s keep this simple then… ‘You are sworn to follow the orders of the Kaiser and those superiors appointed under him’, a portion of the same cursed oath we have all taken as soldiers. That should be small enough. A familiar throbbing pain forms at the base of my skull with the casting; the young man however gripped his head with both hands, flailing and screaming as if I had set him on fire.

“Quit your theatrics and get back into formation.” I really hope I hadn’t just fried his brain, not like there was much to fry. “The rest of you. Do you need a personal lesson, or can I hold out hope that the Empire's volunteers aren’t entirely useless?”

As they moved back into formation, I found the young man had ceased his screaming and instead dissolved into a vomiting blubbering mess.

Well, that’s not good. 

The instructor who had been observing the whole affair sprinted over and began inspecting him. Well, at least he was still breathing, so my disciplinary actions still fell within military regulations.

“Candidate Degurechaff, get this rabble squared away and report to my office as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir!”

I am sick of this. I miss home.

Chapter Text

EXCERPT FROM THE PRAVDA NEWSPAPER JANUARY 24, 1914

HEADLINE: DEADLY ATTACK ON ALEXANDER PALACE BY THE BLACK HUNDREDS

A terrible attack has occurred, resulting in the loss of our dear Tsar and his wife. As if this was not horrific enough, this attack was during the ongoing discussions about the formation of the newest Duma, resulting in the deaths of the leading faction leaders of Chairman Alexander Kerensky and Vice Chairman Lev Bronstein. Despite the noble efforts of our great leaders to find common ground between the bourgeois and the proletariat, this act of terror will not go unpunished.

  Eyewitness The People’s Commissar Nikolai Krylenko’s statement about the incident: “I had just left the palace for a smoke as a mage of some noble birth was brought in by the Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich. This meeting was another of our many attempts to bring unity to our people and truly find a common ground. After those two came in, a terrible explosion occurred. The windows spewed flames and the mage flew through the missing roof. Thankfully, our heroic soldiers were able to shoot down the monster.”

         This attack was perpetrated by the extremist who refuse to acknowledge the righteous and publicly demanded change within our nation that even the Tsar himself was making strides towards. The Grand Duke’s failure to usurp the throne and plunge us back into serfdom has proven to us all that those of the Black Hundreds and their supporters would rather burn our nation to the ground than meet peacefully. By the decree of Chairman Ulyanov, a provisional government has been established and will seek out to remove this terrible corruption once and for all. 

         The People’s Commissar Nikolai Krylenko will assume control of all current military forces. A warning to all those in Rus: There are traitors amongst us, comrades. Report to your nearest commissar those who have or are suspected of having magical aptitude. By the decree of the provisional Russy’ Government no harm will come to those who willingly surrender. These are dark and dangerous times. Stay firm, stay united. Workers of the world, unite! We will see a brighter tomorrow.

1923, MAGE OFFICER SCHOOL, PERSONNEL OFFICE, BERUN

THREE WEEKS LATER

Magical Training Personnel Commander:

Lieutenant Colonel Phillip von Lenard

This meeting is a damn mess.

Cadet Bauer has been deemed unfit for duty by the medical staff; the boy finally stopped his moaning and wailing after two days. Physically, he had been cleared, but mentally the boy was useless. He flinched even at footsteps. Trying to make an aerial mage out of him would be a lost cause. 

What was exceptionally egregious, however, was that it was a female cadet who put him in this state. Female soldiers? What a joke. Allowing them to be aerial mages was due only to the scarcity of such individuals. That was the prevailing narrative, at least.

Oh, sure, there was no end to the arguments over the practicality of utilizing all available resources, but at the end of the day they were still women. Even in training they had to be given a lighter hand, as the noble ladies were nothing more than glorified public relations figures. Even in the civilian and political world, there was no end to the headaches they were causing. The damned Bund Deutscher Frauenvereine used every successful female mage as an argument for more, as if being a wife and mother was not enough. Finding talented soldiers was already a challenge and in the words of the scripture, ‘one man among a thousand I found, but a woman among all these I have not found.’

“Sergeant Major Kruger, care to explain again why you decided to not punish the cadet that cost us a promising candidate?”

“With all due respect, Major von Lenard, I would hardly argue that Cadet Bauer was a particularly promising candidate. His initial magical aptitude put him at the minimum threshold for acceptance as an aerial mage. She may have even done the boy a favor and saved his life indirectly. Had he managed to make it through training, he would have served as an artillery spotter at best, and not a particularly quick one either.”

“Well, her altruism is expensive, Sergeant Major. Cadet Degurechaff has also burned through two computation orbs. The General Staff have made it clear that every individual capable of being an aerial mage is of strategic importance. Furthermore, neither you nor the other instructors have been able to discern what spell she used to cause his current condition. We cannot be lenient to a rogue element, especially a foreign one.”

“She is naturalized under the laws of the Fatherland, sir. As for the threat she possesses, I have brought her here to explain the spell herself. She is just outside the office. Her thesis on The Logistics Behind a Highly Mobile War Theatre has the Railroad Department already clamoring for her post graduation. The Intelligence Department also put in a recommendation for an Iron Cross Second Class following her performance during that mess of a field exercise. Research and Development, after learning of her equipment issues, are another one trying to lay their claim on her. It is in my professional and personal opinion that there would be intense scrutiny on any punishment laid against her. Sir.”

“Some of your worries I can understand, but you seem to think very highly of her, Sergeant Major.”

“She has displayed the epitome of the Empire’s ideal of a soldier. If R&D can provide her equipment that can withstand her abilities, the Empire might just have an unmatched weapon against our potential enemies.”

“She is still a young girl, Sergeant Major, and Russy one at that.”

“Who has excelled over her peers despite those hurdles, sir. If I must bring Major Saurer or Captain von Lergen to vouch for her, I will. The cost we have paid thus far is simply an investment into our future.”

I heaved a heavy sigh at the thought. “No, no need for that, Kruger. My old friend, if it had been anyone else, I would have already had her removed from the program and been done with it. Fine, send her in, let's hear what other insanity she has brought for us.”

Enlisted instructors served a dual purpose at the academy: firstly, they were often the most experienced in actual combat, and secondly, they served as a litmus test for the young nobles to beat out any idea of a social hierarchy beyond the military. Outside of the uniform it was a different story of course, but an officer who completely ignores their enlisted counterparts were a danger to themselves and others. 

Kruger was a damn fine soldier and saved my life when I was a lieutenant after one of the earlier orb designs had a failure, dropping me from nearly three thousand feet in the air. At least my shield and passive film held. I could still fly, but now I walked with a hitch and my bones ached in the cold.

With a sharp salute, the Sergeant Major about-faced and left my office. After a brief moment, in walked the topic of our discussion. 

Frightening was the only word I could use to describe the young girl. In a pristine uniform and well groomed hair, she marched in with the same posture as that of a career soldier, with a folder firmly tucked under her arm. Repressing a shudder as the unnatural scarlet gaze met mine, I found myself begrudgingly agreeing with Kruger. She certainly appeared to display the traits of an ideal soldier. The look in her eyes was far more reminiscent of returning veterans than a child.

“Cadet Degurechaff, do you know why you are here?”

“Sergeant Major Kruger informed me that I was to explain the nature of the spell I used on former Cadet Bauer, sir.”

“Correct. According to the other instructors and medical staff, the results of your spell do not match any current neural interference formula. Depending on your answer, it will help us decide what if any punishment should be rendered.”

Only the briefest moment of emotion flickered across her brow.

“Understood. I have prepared a report sir.”

I took the outstretched folder inside was a multipage document titled "A Novel Neural Interference and Information Transference Formula”. Raising an eyebrow at the title, I flipped through the document. Novel indeed. Reading through the technical document, it outlined a theoretical formula that could move information from an individual through another via mana expenditure. However, it felt wrong. Like a mathematical proof that one plus one equals three. In theory, it seemed probable, but in practice the mana demand seemed outrageous, not to mention that the only example we have of its use was now effectively mentally broken. A child wrote this?

“And you are saying this is the formula that you used on the cadet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Were you aware of the possible side effects before you did so?”

“The current state of Cadet Bauer was not my intention, sir. Based on the mana expend during the casting, the whiplash response was much higher than expected. Since the spell should create a proportional response for both individuals, it is my hypothesis that former Cadet Bauer’s magical aptitude was significantly below the standard for an aerial mage, resulting in both the mental effect of the spell and possible mana depletion exacerbating the effects.”

“Cadet, why did you make the decision to utilize an experimental formula you were not absolutely certain was safe?”

“Sir, I believed that it was my responsibility as an instructor to ensure only the best are allowed to join the Empire’s aerial mage corps. Cadet Bauer displayed an egregious amount of insubordination unfit for a military member. I believed that the capital punishment such action would demand would have been a waste of resources. In an attempt to preserve resources, I sought to correct him through alternative methods. Had I been aware of his limited mana capacity, I would have simply removed him from the course for failing to meet the standard. I also would like to include that the cadre under my tutelage are performing their duties at a standard above their peers.”

A cold sweat swept down upon me. She wasn’t even a teenager, but her earnest admission that she merely used this experimental spell to avoid her duty to murder a fellow cadet for insubordination was chilling. Taking a moment to recenter myself, I perused the document further. Honestly, the applications of such a spell, if we could get it to work, could be invaluable. I knew the Information Department would legitimately kill for such a thing. Still, it was as much of an anomaly as the child in front of me. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the actual inner workings of the formula, as if an entire section was absent.

“Cadet Degurechaff, this formula appears to be only half complete.”

“Uh, yes sir. It is a non-standard spell that was created before the development of computation orb technology. This report was my attempt to translate it as best I could into a modern formula within this short period of time. I am more than willing to continue this project until it is more complete, sir.”

Dangerous. Both she and this spell were exceptionally dangerous.

“Cadet, could this formula be used on those without mana? Furthermore, could this be used to mentally manipulate others?”

Her eyes widened, and for the briefest of moments I finally saw a glimpse of expression that fit a young girl before her face reset into that iron mask, with only furrowed brows betraying her internal worries.

“I…I don’t believe so, sir, on either accounts. I swear that I have not tested either concept. In the case of an individual without mana, the spell should fail without a mana response. As far as mentally manipulating another, the only mental effects that should be transmitted are those of information, not intentions.”

“In that case, I believe it might be best that I send this report without your name attached to the Intelligence Department before any further research is done. Just as a precaution, Cadet Degurechaff. If they are able to discern that the risks of the spell are acceptable, I will inform them of the author, and you may pursue your research as you wish.”

Like hell I was going to just hand her over without knowing just how much damage she could cause. Could the other instructors already be compromised? …no, that was unlikely. While Kruger was supportive, that wasn’t out of character for him. She also seemed genuinely caught off guard by the suggestion. Not particularly convincing, but it helped. This whole spell issue was a fiasco and political nightmare in one. Rus spells were only notable amongst the nobility; the fact she was knowledgeable enough of one I had never even heard of was troubling. The hell was a noble Rus brat doing, volunteering for the military? Shouldn’t she be off with her cousins or uncle, learning how to be a proper noble instead of playing soldier?

She didn’t look happy at this decision, but neither did she immediately hop to her feet to argue.

“Understood, sir.”

“For now, Cadet Degurechaff, I've decided that your actions, while unorthodox, have not breached the standard of conduct expected of an instructor. Though I will urge you that while the Empire expects the utmost out of our soldiers, do provide some leniency towards your fellow cadets during this accelerated course. Return back to your cadre and be prepared for your first post soon.”

“Yes sir! Thank you sir!”

“You are dismissed, Cadet Degurechaff.”

With a salute that mirrored Kruger’s, she left the office, and only then did I feel like I could breathe freely. An unmatched weapon was a poor comparison. Weapons didn’t think and anyone could point them in the direction they wanted. She was more like a lion; sure, you could leash the damn thing, but for how long would it fight for you before it decided that anyone’s meat was good enough for it? Staring over the bomb of a document she had dropped before me, I was left with few options, and none of them good. Do I hand her over to Intelligence and let them sort her out? I shuddered. They already had their eyes on her; even if I sent this damn report without her name it wouldn’t take a genius to trace it back to her.

Looking over her file, her family was the ideal of immigrants. Adopting our language and willingly abandoning their native Russy name for a naturalized one like her mother, they lived in the Imperial Capital and her noted guardians were both employed at notable hospitals, which spoke of some connections though, nothing so extreme that a high ranking noble would display. There was no mention of a father, so perhaps a bastard then? If that were the case, she was significantly less of a political nightmare to handle. 

Her voluntary enlistment was strange, even with the Berun police chief himself sponsoring her. The lack of any prior magical testing until the month of her enlistment was circumspect and the results were just anomalous. Every metric of magical aptitude was simply listed as ‘exceptional’ with none of the traditional degree of successes or failures noted.

There was very little else beyond that. No mention of early schooling of any kind, with only a minor note that she had been turned away due to the ‘religious considerations’ by school staff. She was enrolled to attend a private gymnasium just this year. The church closest to her home had no disparaging comments about the girl, nor her family, citing their consistent appearance for the weekly congregations. Maria Degurechaff apparently made no effort to reach out to any noble families, or at least there is no mention of such contact. The flood of emigres from the Russy Federation had no end of nobles reaching out to extended family for assistance.

There was not enough information here to know anything for certain. A terrible pit in my stomach formed as regret filled me. What if my question led her to test out those concepts on her own? Perhaps it might be best to just shuttle her off to the Railroad Department and have them tangle with Intelligence. After a month or two I could file the report and if there was any mental corruption the ramifications would be far less dire than a department in Central. The damage she could wreak on internal logistics, however, were too much to consider that plan for any real length of time.

 A small note in her student report grabbed my attention.

“Cadet Degurechaff, due to time constraints and equipment issues, has failed to meet flight hour expectations. In recommendation due to her excellent performance through the remaining course, the instructors of the Mage Officers recommend that she complete these logged flight hours during OJT at first posting.”

There’s an idea. Border post. Under the excuse of her limited flight hours, there was no better location to complete them. For all the saber rattling the Entente Alliance was making, there was no way they were foolish enough to actually go to war. Out of the way from any critical infrastructure, and quiet enough that she wasn’t going to be able to make any major achievements, I could bide time to file the report. Even if she could do any mental manipulation the damage could be mitigated, and the border had heightened level of external scrutiny over the other options.

Yes, this could work. Send the lion away and see if she bites the hand that feeds her, or if she is loyal. The Intelligence department and Railroad department are going to come down hard with questions, but my authority was enough that arguing under a priority training point would shield me from most of that. Intelligence had a lot to answer for as well. The overwhelming oddity that was Cadet Degurechaff should have already had them investigating her origins; instead I had an award recommendation from them. Suddenly, the ‘religious considerations’ felt understandable. I could see how a nun or a priest would take one look at her and see a devil.

Lord, guide me along the right paths.

I pulled out the paperwork for initial posting and began signing this devil away to be someone else’s problem, if only for a brief respite. Depending on how much damage she does, I should consider planning for my retirement. I will have to deal with the consequences of her existence regardless.

Those who decided to allow women into the military, you have certainly cursed me just as I have cursed you.

JUNE 1923, THIRD PATROL LINE, NORDERN THEATER, NORTHERN MILITARY DISTRICT

Warrant Officer Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 12

“Warrant Officer Tanya Degurechaff, sortieing out.”

Deployment training in a border posting due to failing to meet required flight hours; that was the official line I was given, at least. This was not the only location where deployment training could have been completed, however. The entire experience was a frustrating reminder of that damned devil, and just when I was finally learning to have some comfort in this body, too. Every physical practice, training, or teaching in the military was a reminder of just how different of a body I had now. It took an incredible amount of self-control to not fall back on my magic during sparring practice. Especially after my partner, even with pity on his face, threw me for the umpteenth time. Even through all that, I made every effort to reach the expectations placed upon me.

Every possible advantage I could gain through this miserable experience needed to be gathered to protect myself and what is mine. Despite my contributions being equal to my rank, my status was stained by the rumors of ‘strange little girl mage’. I knew my appearance was incongruent with my actions and age, but it was painful to be reminded just how odd I appeared to others through their whispers. I had hoped that either of the reports I had presented could have swayed some of those opinions, but they had yet to bear any fruit.

Technically, I achieved my goals as this posting was supposably in an administrative unit. I wasn’t alone either, as others from the mage training school had joined me here, but that was a cold comfort. That meeting with the Lieutenant Colonel did not go as well as I hoped. Even trying to sell the vystalva to the Empire’s military had been a bust. 

The idea it could be used for mental manipulation had been harrowing at first, but the spell literally lived in my brain and nothing about its existence seemed to allow for such an application. With the presumed origins of the spell, the idea seemed right up Being X’s alley. I wouldn’t put it past that so called god would try to just mind control others instead of putting in the work required to sell his religion.

There was some comfort in that I didn’t receive any major punishments or restrictions during my time at the Academy. Shifting the cumbersome radio on my back to allow my rifle to sit better on my shoulder, I sighed. Growing up in the military had been a mixed bag, but I had enough height and weight that using a rifle was not a major challenge. I refused to go unarmed anywhere now if I could help it. You only need to feel helpless once to turn always carrying a weapon into a required comfort. This was supposed to be a simple joint exercise with the local artillery unit. The Treaty of Londinium was now all I could place my tenuous hopes on. Let rationality be the driving force in the Entente Alliance.

The others dispersed over a wide area so far, blurring into the sky and turning into barely visible dots in the horizon. Another reminder of my strange existence was that even at these distances, where I would need to use my binoculars to make out their positions, I could make out their positions just by the glow of their mana.

Even now as a mage I had barely moved my social standing beyond a strange girl to others. The achievements I made during my enlistment need to be measured. I couldn't afford to merely fade into the background after putting my life on hold for two years. Nor could I allow myself to be seen as too valuable to let go; the horror stories of those who were stop-lossed after surviving their initial deployment only to die on the next one was not one I wanted to repeat. 

Reaching the prescribed altitude for the exercise I began my patrol when an irrational and irritating feeling nagged at me, as if in a warning.

“Norden Control to all zones. Border violations by the Entente Alliance have been detected. Initiate anti-air interception mission. I repeat, initiate an anti-air interception mission.”

Ice filled my veins at the radio announcement. Why? Was I truly so terrible a person, Being X, that you would send these men to die for nothing? 

Fine then. Send your worst. I can fight back now, you devil.

“This is Norden Control. Warrant Officer Degurechaff has been promoted to second lieutenant. Cease patrol practice and begin observation. Your call sign is Redeyes 08.”

Really? I mean I understood my eyes were striking, but still that felt…simple.

I radioed back, confirming the sightings of infantry crossing the border. The sight that I beheld was miserable, with not a single soldier in the formation appearing to know what they had just done. Laughing and roughhousing, as if they were simply on a friendly hike. There was a brief pause before Goliath 07 from the artillery battalion radioed back. The call and response answers went per our training. Provide firing data, wait for the initial barrage, report back for error correction if needed, and if not report to fire for effect.

Through my binoculars I watched the brinkmanship of the Empire in full effect as the infantry vanished in hail of artillery. As I stared at the carnage unfolding before me, a phantom feeling of splashing warm liquid across my back ambushed me. I almost crushed the binoculars in my grip, with the feeling of still undulating intestine sliding by my hands and the omnipresent scent of blood around me. My faculties returned just in time to rotate myself and aim my face and torso to the forest floor as my lunch lurched out of my stomach. My body made sure there was nothing else. After dry heaving a few times, I spat to clear my mouth, regretting my decision to not bring a canteen.

My hands shook as I stayed hovering, a cold sweat drenching the inside of my flight suit. I reached for my computation orb by ingrained habit and found it warm, but fortunately not overheating. Despite missing some flight training, the mental strain and threat of death or injury had quickly wired the mana output and method to avoid burning the orb out into my subconscious. I was a pacifist at heart, and that nightmare haunted me often and terribly, but it had been some time since I had such a visceral reaction.

“—liath 07. Requesting firing results.”    

I spat, trying to remove any remaining bile. Daring to peer through binoculars at the field, I saw that there was no major deviation in the impacts.

“Goliath 07, this is Redeyes 08. Good effect on target. I say again, good effect.”

My voice was hoarse,my hands still shook and I could feel my heartbeat ring in my ears. My hair stuck to my forehead and cheeks, slick with sweat. I propelled myself forward in an attempt to wick it away. Whatever had just occurred seemed to have passed; my best guess was that it was a panic attack. A pit formed in my stomach, fear flaring in my mind as dozens of worst case scenarios flickered through my head. Taking a deep shuddering breath, I shoved them out my mind, gripping my orb as it had slowly grown more warm.

“Redeyes 08 to Norden Control. Please respond.”

“This is Norden Control. Hearing you loud and clear.”

I reported back that the enemy line had collapsed after the multiple barrages. The scattered individuals had spread out, no longer resembling the ordered army it had once been. Any further would be a waste of ammo. How many had died just now? Dozens? More than a hundred?

Norden Control briefly ordered me to stand by as this information was relayed and dispersed out to the relevant units. After a beat, an order to advance to patrol line two and continue observation duties for suppressive fire was given. A minor comfort that flickered through me was that I was lucky to be on observation duty instead of bombing duty. Even if the Entente Alliance was willing to so kindly offer themselves as live ammunition training, the thought of actively pulling the trigger to turn those men into mulch twisted at my insides.

I didn’t want to kill anyone. Now I was worried that even though I had managed it once before, I wouldn’t be able to replicate the same effort. The faces of Masha and Vera and the thought of failing them burned away that worry, though. I was not just a little girl anymore, but a soldier. That did not mean I had to enjoy killing, but I would kill to protect myself and what mine.

“Redeyes 08, roger. Remain on artillery observation until ordered otherwise.”

“Norden Control, roger.”

Chapter Text

June 1918, Commonwealth, Capital City Londinium

Anna Anderson (Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova)

Why did she have to be so difficult? Amy was the only real friend I had left in the Commonwealth. Not to be vain but I was royalty, and it was completely unfair that I felt like a sack of potatoes when I was around her. I swear that woman could seduce a vault if she wanted to. We got along great, partially because we both had an innate talent of being a mix of both incredibly charming and insufferable.

The OTMA, as we called our sibling alliance of Olya-Tatiana-Maria-Anastasia in better days, was disbanded. I had only recently learned that the Albish government had made plans to break us apart, but had never enacted them. There was no need, as we did all the work for them. Olya and Tatiana had proven that the saying ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’ was evergreen.

The first six months after our escape to Albion were miserable, and we had never been closer. Keeping four women who had rubbed elbows with the highest nobility of multiple countries hidden and protected was an unenviable undertaking. Learning how to budget and the realities of limited funds were new to all of us. Even if the funds were rather generous, the Albish government's generosity was not unlimited. While Olya and Tatiana tackled our new living situation, I spent those six months hounding and pestering every important looking individual I could about when the others of our family would be joining us.

Six months of fretting and worry passed with the cruelest hope that our family might be whole once again.

They knew. Tatiana and Olya. They knew and in cooperation with the Albish government, they decided that keeping it a secret was ‘better’ for me and Maria. It wasn’t until I managed to break into Mr. John’s room and found the Pravda paper and the Londinium Times paper that crushed that hope in totality. That fight was terrible in every sense of the word. Olya, now ‘Marga’ crumpled from guilt the moment I held up the paper to her. The headline “DEADLY ATTACK ON ALEXANDER PALACE” still burned in my mind. Some nights I still heard Maria’s heartbreaking wail at the news. That was the night OTMA died.

“Amy, I don't want to do this,” I whined as she all but dragged me from the vehicle.

“If you don’t do this, you will regret it for the rest of your life, trust me Anna. Besides, if you can’t do something this simple I’ll just have to tell Habergram you aren’t ready yet.”

“We haven’t spoken in two years, Amy. And why her? Why not either of the other two?”

“Well, for one your other two other sisters are in Birmingham, which is a trip too far if we want to get on our boat. Second, isn't that all the more reason you should say your goodbyes, Anna? Third, if I had tried to take you to either of them, or not sprung this upon you by surprise, your ability to squirrel your way out of things would have been annoying to deal with,” She listed, raising a finger for each of her points with a familiar impish grin.  

“I have more if you want to hear them, Anna.”

“Fine. Fine! I’ll do this but I reserve the right to say I told you so if this goes poorly.”

Amy released me, holding up her hands in surrender as a mischievous smile grew on her face.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped back.

It was early morning as we approached the house. My plans to enjoy that lovely Republic café in Londinium during my last day on this blasted island were now thoroughly ruined. I gave the house a once over, which I supposed in a few decades this style will be called Edwardian or something equally stupid. Still, it was a nice house. Though it lacked the grandeur of our youth, I was surprised at just how comforting it was to know that Olya was doing well for herself. Err, Marga now, I suppose. The exterior gate led into a small garden filled with flowers and a few fruiting vegetables all lovingly tended to. There were two floors, so I assumed she had some hired help, though at this moment there seemed to be none around.

Taking one last backward glare at my frustrating superior and friend just outside the exterior gate, I took a moment to calm my nerves. We had not parted in a particularly amicable fashion.  If I remember correctly, it was more along the lines of screaming and running away to Amy’s home. That was back when we all stayed together in the townhouse provided to us. Seeing her living in a larger home was… good. 

Alright, enough stalling.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“One moment!”

My breath hitched in my throat. Hearing her voice again hurt in a way I was not prepared for. There was no more time to run away; if I left now, Amy would personally make sure to remind me about it every chance she got. I glanced around, deciding that distracting myself was a better use of energy than pointlessly fretting. My eyes landed on an empty mailbox with a name I didn’t recognize: Marga and John Ronald Tolkien. This marked the third wedding I was not in attendance for and now I was the only one not married. Maria was the first; must have been just a month or so after she learned of the burning of the Alexander Palace. Morganatic marriages were common among the many emigrés, and the fact that our keepers were very clear that we had relinquished our titles effectively in perpetuity was all the encouragement she required. I suppose the betrayal had freed her from any worries about disappointing Tanechka or Olya as well.

The sound of approaching footsteps almost shattered my quickly fraying bravado. I turned back briefly to see if Amy was still there, and unfortunately she was looking expectantly just past the exterior gate. Taking in one final breath I steeled myself desperately scrambling to plan some kind of script.

“Yes, how can I help… Anast- Anna? Is that you?”

She hadn’t changed. No, that wasn’t quite true; in the past two years she had come to resemble mother more than ever. Thank the Lord’s great mercy I had not stayed idle during those two years. Compartmentalize, depersonalize, segment and hide, all the subtle skills needed for my new line of work were being totally relied upon to not just sob. Even with all that my eyes still stung as tears threatened to crack my façade. Her expression was not helping my efforts: a mix of remorse, surprise, and longing.

“I…yes, it’s me. It’s been a while, Marga. ” The name felt wrong. It was a stranger's name, not my sister's. I cleared my throat, trying to remember why I was here. “I uhh…Ahem. First off, congratulations are in order I suppose.”

Two warm arms wrapped around me in a crushing embrace.

That’s not fair.

You could say it was a testament to our noble peerage that we both managed not to utter a single apology. Entering into her home, she practically dragged me through the entrance. I at least made sure to close the door behind us. It was a home, something I had missed in the last two years. As she maneuvered us to a sitting area, we both took a moment to compose ourselves. 

Well, this was not all how this was supposed to go, and now I’m trapped.

“Anna… you came back. I was so worried for you, but now that you're back I have a room ready for you.”

Oh .

“No… I came to say goodbye. I’m leaving for the Republic today.”

I almost winced at how the relief on her face morphed into confusion, then frustration and worry. There goes the sweet reunion, and here comes what I had expected. After the truth came out, Maria was the first to leave, and Tatiana followed closely after. It was just the two of us for a year and a few months, if only because I was too young to leave on my own. I tried, I suppose we both tried to make it work, but I couldn't forgive her, nor could she apologize. It finally came to a head one day after some inane argument over something unimportant. 

“The Republic? What do you mean leaving? Anast- Anna what are you saying? Does Mr. John know or General Habergram? How could you put us all at risk with such foolish intentions?”

“I don’t want to fight Marga. Please.”

“It’s time for you to grow up. You are not a child anymore. We have a duty, Anna, a responsibility. Are you really going to just run away again? We are safe here, and only here. Are you so selfish to put us all in danger for some flight of fancy?”

“Excuse me?!”

“Do not raise your voice at me. No, I let you leave last time. I am putting a stop to this nonsense.”

She rose from the couch with purpose, but before she could continue whatever she was planning, I grabbed her wrists and shoved her back into the couch before standing over her. Of the two of us, I had spent my time preparing for physical confrontation.

“Enough! I knew this was a mistake. You can’t and won’t stop this, Olya. Before you make any further assumptions, General Habergram and Mr. John are not only aware but endorsing this. So stop trying to accuse me of putting my family in harm's way. Moreover, what duty do we have, hmm? To whom? The only responsibilities we have been given since arriving at this blasted island is to be quiet and ignored.”

“To Rusland! Have you abandoned your pride so easily?”

“Oh! Should I follow in the example of my elders? Like you and Tatiana? Marry the first Albish gentleman that isn’t twice my age? Tell me, dear sister, is Ronald of great noble lineage? Will you give birth to the new Tsarevich? Or how about what Maria did, should I go off and marry a soldier? As long as he is from Rus, of course. The Fundamental Laws are clear, and so is the Albish government. Our duty to Imperial Rus has been revoked.”

“My marriage has not dulled my pride nor my obligations. Everything I’ve done has been for the sake of my family, and our future, as well as the future of Rus. We must live on and support that which returns the rightful rulers to Rus. I do not have to be the Empress to do that, Anna. ”

“Even if it means lying to your family, Marga? Isn't that right, Marga? ”

That gave her pause as she recoiled. With clenched hands and noble posture, she looked every bit the Grand Duchess she was, and I already knew what she was going to say next.

“I did what I believed was best for us.”

Of course.

“Look how well that turned out. It seems that trying something you don’t believe is best could prove more useful.”

The anger and hurt in her eyes at my words almost quelled my own. Almost. I would regret this for the rest of my life, was that right Amy? When would be the next time I saw Olya? Would I ever get to see Tanechka and Masha again? I have already missed all their weddings. How much more would I miss or be denied? I loved them all. I would always love them but…

I took in a shaking breath and swallowed my pride. “…I’m sorry. I’m… going to leave now. I really did not want us to fight.”

She may never apologize and that was fine. I knew just how much it tore her apart, I was there as she wasted away under that mental anguish. Maria might have been the kindest of us, but Olya held the most tender and noble heart. I may never agree with her, but I believed her. She and Tatiana may have truly believed that it was the best decision at the time. Yet as I turned to leave, I couldn’t have that be the last thing I said to her. I spared what I believed would be my last glance back.

“I love you sister. Goodbye.”

“Wait! Just… Please don’t leave. Why…How did you get an endorsement for this? Why the Republic? W-When are you leaving?”

I could just leave. I also could have told Amy no meant no, and never come here in the first place. She was going to be insufferable on the boat ride over. A very tired sigh escaped me as I turned back to sit across from her.

“I’m working for them or will be. Our upbringing happens to coincide with their personnel requirements. Knowing multiple languages, social etiquette training and knowledge of various important individuals, not to mention my own personal talent of getting in and out of trouble.”

Seeing her laugh even weakly at that was reassuring, even if confusion and worry was firmly planted on her face.

“The last year or so I spent training and learning in order to meet the other requirements. Also technically Anna Anderson doesn’t exist, which was a helpful addition to my resume. As for why the Republic, I can’t tell you. You may ask Mr. John or Habergram, but it’s their prerogative. I will say that partly why I volunteered to go was to search for Tanya, to see if she actually made it there. I leave tomorrow, but I can’t say when.”

Olya’s frown was now quite deep as she chewed at the new information. A rather petty part of me hoped the news was as shocking to her as it was for me to find out she was married.

“I…I’m sorry. For not telling you and Maria. I thought- I hoped it wasn’t true, and I couldn’t bear seeing the hope you had die. Please don’t blame Tatiana, she wanted to tell you both and I begged her not to… After you left I ran into Ronald at a café not too far from here.”

Her words were slow, careful, and deliberate. I had held that anger for so long that even now, hearing her apology, it felt less like vindication and more like heartache.

“I tried to contact you, find you. Mr. John refused to tell me anything. You know how he is an absolute professional at keeping information. I thought that… that you never wanted to see me again. My marriage just a few months ago I tried to send invitations, but there were ‘security concerns’. It was much more of a somber affair that I had pictured for my wedding.”

This time I could feel myself wince. When I met with Mr. John again, we were going to have a very impolite conversation. Over the next few hours, we talked about our time apart, what we did, who we met, and the pain of being separated. We promised to write to each other, though I was doubtful that any of our letters would ever arrive. I also managed to wrangle a promise out of her to try and reconnect with the other two, so I could visit without having to track them down across the island. After a tearful and overly long hug at her doorstep, she reluctantly let me go.

Thankfully I did not have to walk or find a cab home. Amy was still waiting just outside the exterior gate by the government provided car, even though the sun was now setting. The smell of cigarette smoke and coffee wafted from her as she offered me a cup as an olive branch.

“That must have gone well. You look awful.”

I punched her shoulder.

“It did. I feel exhausted in every way, and I would like to go home now.”

“So, are you still going with me?”

“Yes, and if you try to leave without me I will track you down to the ends of this Earth.”

JUNE 1923, THIRD PATROL LINE, NORTHERN THEATER, NORTHERN MILITARY DISTRICT

2 nd Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 12

I was thankful that despite how dreadful my task was, it was also equally monotonous. Humans are ever adaptable after all, and the whipping and chilling wind from flying helped wick away the cold sweat and calm me. That infuriating feeling of dread had not left me as I moved to each sector and made my reports. Every now and then I would look out to the horizon and see the faintest blinking lights of mana in the distance from my fellow spotters. Computation orbs seemed to flatten the spectrum of color mana would manifest in, which was an interesting observation. As if to mock my idle musings, the northern horizon seemed to flicker with colors that did not match any I recognized.

“Cherubim Leader issuing a theater warning! I say again theater warning! Large number of incoming bogeys confirmed!”

“Norden Control to all military forces! Norden Control to all military forces! A battalion of Entente Alliance mages has been confirmed violating the border. I say again, a battalion of Entente Alliance mages has been confirmed violating the border.”

As the two warnings blared over the radio, orders for ROE transitions and interception followed quickly after. Why are they doing this? What army sends in their air assets after contact? Staring at the small flickering lights growing slowly, that feeling of dread felt almost prescient. The headset squealed out static and hisses as I cranked the amplitude to max. Electronic interference. I was too late.

“Redeyes 08 to Norden Control. Redeyes 08 to Norden Control possible bogeys detected. Company sized, requesting interception. Coordinates: Theater alpha, block eight. Altitude 3,800.”

“Norden Control, roger. Establish contact and delay the enemy. Also, if at all possible, gather intel.”

WHAT?! Establish contact?! Like hell, it was only because of just how much of an anomaly I was that I even managed this early detection. Despite that, I took the effort to gain altitude, and quickly.

“There’s a substantial gap in fighting power. Requesting reinforcements.”

“Norden Control, roger. We’re already scrambling an allied mage platoon. Additional companies already in the air on standby should also arrive in six hundred.”

“Redeyes 08 to Norden Control contact estimated within sixty. Requesting permission for immediate withdrawal. I say again, requesting permission for immediate withdrawal.”

“Norden Control to Redeyes 08. I’m afraid I can’t approve that. Do your best to delay them until the allied response team arrives.”

Damn it. The thought of just retreating anyways crossed my mind, but I had wasted too much time already. I gripped my increasingly warming orb; if I pushed it too hard trying to fly back, it was absolutely going to fail on me.

Damn it, I don’t want to be a soldier, why couldn’t you just leave the suicide missions to the bloodthirsty idiots?  

Even if the orb held up in a high speed retreat the supporting mages would be there to arrest me for dereliction of duty, or they might just skip that hassle and shoot me out of the sky. I unslung my rifle and in a white knuckle grip, I cursed every failing soldier from the warning line to control.

“Redeyes 08… roger. I’ll struggle with all my might.”

“Norden Control, roger. Good luck.”

Good luck? Why are you wishing that on me now, and not before a company of mages was barreling in on my position? Luck was obviously not on my side, not yet. Outnumbered, outgunned, no cover, and delayed reinforcements while being tasked to delay the enemy, what an impossible request. They might as well have said “Die for your country.” Quickly, I made a mental outline of what resources I had available: A standard scepter rifle with ten rounds and two five round stripper clips, a computation orb with a limited combat operation life, vstavlya based formulas, and a seemingly endless supply of mana.

Vstavlya was only going to be a useful tool for as long as the orb held up, and once it failed that tool was all but lost to me. Realistically, I had ten rounds in the frantic dogfight, as trying to use a stripper clip would require dexterity that evasive maneuvers wouldn’t allow. I could use optical spells, but that would further tax the orb, and if I wasn’t careful the excess mana could also turn the rifle to slag. The eleven lights grew close enough I could only just make out their silhouettes. I had no chance in a ranged fight, and the Entente’s mage core was unfortunately not large enough to hold that many rank amateurs, so I had to assume the worst.

“Redeyes 08 to Norden Control. I’ll see you at the landing pad.”

Throwing off the bulky radio, I again lamented my ‘gift’. Mental interference formulas that simulated narcotic effects held too high a potential to go wrong, so I would be going into this battle mostly sober. I spun up a mix of body reinforcement, compression and G force reduction formulas and spells. I survived this long. Death had been thwarted more than once, and this would be no different. Spite would suffice for an intoxicant. With no genuine tactical advantage, I would be relying entirely on MILDEC. Can’t assume they are stupid either, though that would be greatly appreciated.

Send them all, Being X. I’ll show you how I can survive without you.

Lieutenant Colonel Anson Sue

This desperate rush for the Empire’s artillery was a symptom of just how badly the politicians had led us to slaughter. How many hundreds or thousands of men were dead and injured because of this absolutely idiotic plan? The only way we could even help our fellow countrymen and limit the losses was to try and rush the artillery and hope they weren’t prepared for us. This observer was another terrible surprise; had it been under different circumstances, I would have been in awe at the stupidity or courage needed to charge a company of mages solo. At the moment, it was just another frustration in an already miserable day.

Or it would have been, had the monster in a child’s body not spun up dozens and then hundreds of illusions in their desperate charge. The sheer display of mana was almost demoralizing enough to retreat, but illusions are as dangerous as a wooden tank. They were also hardly perfect illusions, but in an empty sky the lone mage had created their own concealment. Almost as if to mock us, the mage focused on quantity instead of quality with several of the illusions even flying straight down into the forest.

“The hell!?”

“Fire heavy explosion formulas into the mass, don’t let them hide!”

“Delay that! It’s just one mage, preserve your mana!  We still need to take out the artillery and make the return trip! Focus on guidance formulas, the illusions have a different signature!”

“Sir! I can’t get into contact with Colonel Lacamp’s rearguard battalion, the magic interference is scrambling the signal.”

God, Oh God, why? Why does this have to happen?

“Damn it! We don’t have time for this. Why can’t we take out the observer mage already?!”

The crack and retort of well-practiced explosive and guidance formulas filled the mass of illusions. The deluge, however, never dwindled as it enveloped our company. Even with how simple they were it was an incredibly effective distraction, as even the most experienced aerial mage was not prepared for an enemy mage illusion swarm to fly through them.

“Lock on to their mana signature, ignore the illusions!”

“I can’t, mana emissions are too high! It's scrambling the detection formulas! Where are they?!”

“Pair up! Don’t separate! They coul-“

KRACK-BOOM!

“Captain Lagarde!”

In the sheer chaos that now enveloped us I felt my anger burn white hot. This plan was already assumed to be a long shot, but going from holding the tactical advantage to being overwhelmed by a single mage was unacceptable. 

Captain Lagarde, while trying to keep the company from dispersing in the confusion, was engulfed by an indirect hit from a ridiculous explosive formula. Even if he had survived the attack, the fall was lethal and from this distance he was in no shape to save himself. The only silver lining was that the enemy mage had finally given away their position, even in the visual mess they had created. A hail of return fire was sent in their direction, but not before two more of those same explosions crashed into the now formed up duos.

“Casualty report!”

“Five down no mana signatures! Where the hell did the Empire pull this monster from?!”

How in the world did it come to this?

The follow-up explosions on the return fire must have gotten close, as in a jarring shift the massive amount of illusions vanished. The lone observer mage had gained altitude on us, but their movement was jerky and inconsistent. With their concealment removed the last platoon rushed at them with fury. I wanted to join them, but this world was cruel. Our time was up, and the Empire’s reinforcements would likely be here soon; we were at half strength already and had no contact with our rear guard.

“They won’t get away with this! Commander, back me up, I’m making a rush at the enemy.”

“Break! Break! We are retreating! Baldr, pull back!

The enemy mage ceased their sporadic climb and abandoned their weapon; it looked as if one of the explosion formulas had managed to melt the damn thing. They seemed to freefall into the platoon, no longer properly flying, making only violent evasive maneuvers as if pulled by the hand of an uncaring giant while at gravity’s mercy.

“Our shots are grazing!”

“Damn it! Just hit him!”

I thought it was an artifact of their poor illusions, but for just a moment I saw a flash of scarlet iris. She looked as if she was around the same age as Mary, but that stare was filled with such terrible fury, and her teeth were clenched in pain. Falling into the platoon, the two lead mages were bifurcated by a mage blade. Enough! I rushed to try and save someone, anyone. Then, even with the sound of wind rushing by and the clamor of battle, I heard it.

“Gotcha.”

In the brief moment of falling past Baldr her hand reached out to him, and his computation orb flared. A flash of light blinded me. I raised my arms as the explosion engulfed me. My shield shattered, but at this distance the film spared me from the worst of the burns. For a brief moment my consciousness faded, but by God’s mercy I awoke with enough altitude to save myself. Quickly trying to reorient myself, the sight of Imperial reinforcements just off in the horizon caused my heart to sink. Looking around, there was only one figure still in the sky, hanging there as if pinned to the heavens. That damned mage was still alive, balled up in the sky. I went to raise my rifle, only for my right arm to fail to respond, the shock fading as pain filled my being. It was gone.

It was over, we had lost and lost terribly.

Turning in an attempt to limp my way home with the rest of my countrymen, I felt a sense of despair fill me.

“What had we done for God to abandon us so?”

IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, IMPERIAL ARMY GENERAL STAFF OFFICE, PERSONNEL DIVISION SECTION CHIEF OFFICE

Major Erich von Lergen

“Why the hell was she in Norden?”

Lieutenant Colonel von Lenard’s latest report had caused no end of headaches for the General Staff. Now with her most recent performance, that had amplified those issues tenfold. Reports that a massive mana signature had bloomed over the skies of Norden had sent a wave of panic in border forces, only to be confirmed as friendly once the interference finally dissipated. I had foolishly considered that concerning, only for the following reports to note that the source of that mana held distinct markers similar to the magic signature of Alix of Hesse and the late Tsar Nicholas II. Nothing conclusive had been determined, and so no official statements had been made, but every department from the Railroad division to Political affairs was scrambling for answers.

The Lieutenant Colonel was now unable to make any further comments after Intelligence had seized him. His ‘report’ and the rather disturbing content within had already been traced back to the same damn source of my current frustrations. The Northern Army Group and Public Relations were in a spat over the reports and recommendations for 2 nd Lieutenant Degurechaff. To say that they were unbelievable was putting it mildly. Even with the dozens of eyewitness accounts and the mana readings, I still had trouble believing it.

Slowing an enemy mage company single handedly would have been outstanding, repelling them a miracle, but to completely defeat them and survive? That was impossible. Her total confirmed kill count was ten, which was five times more than the next highest imperial aerial mage's confirmed kill count during the opening skirmish. The standing aerial border mages had described the encountered Entente mages as elites, and the fact that this company had successfully broken in the furthest made discrediting them as a fluke rather difficult.

She sustained substantial injuries with both burns and gunshot wounds covering her limbs, and the reports noted that both her rifle and computation orb were rendered inoperable with orb having almost fused to her left hand. There were some truly wild claims about the combat itself, reading more like one from a legend than a post-combat assessment. One note read “She filled the sky with illusions.” Her recovered rifle was determined to have failed from damage consistent with mana overload, rather than external damage. While the rifles themselves can be utilized as a scepter, it was possible to channel enough mana to potentially warp the material to failure. Similarly, this was the third computation orb Degurechaff had managed to melt in her time as mage. The conclusion was that she utilized every asset she had, even to her detriment, to repel the enemy force.

There was a unanimous agreement that she should be recognized and rewarded for her efforts, but the disagreement was over what could be realistically accepted. I doubted either of them would accept anything less than the Silver Wings Assault Medal, which had my stomach twisting into knots. Degurechaff was abnormal; everything about her was. Joined the military after her mother was attacked and left comatose for two weeks with the endorsement of the Berun police chief. No public school record, though there were multiple reports of various volksschule denying her for a variety of unspecified reasons. Her performance in the cadet program had demonstrated that she held the ideal qualities of a soldier.

“This is the only path for me.” were the words she used during her volunteer interview. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know what she meant with those words. Looking into the attack, there was a sealed report by the Berun police department about the deaths of two men in the same incident. According to the report they were in literal pieces. Has she always been such a monster? After all, the line between monster and hero is often determined by which side they fought for, and who was writing the history. She was the Imperial Army’s desire for the perfect soldier incarnate. Any complaints or concerns over her age, gender, or origin were being dismissed under the weight of her accomplishments.   

She was also being given the alias “Siegfriede”, and I understood some of their intentions with such a name. Meeting her in person, it was hard to explain how unnerving her stare and presence could be. I personally wondered if attaching a legend to her was to help sell just how unbelievable her actions had been.

Had this been any other soldier, I would’ve already taken the effort to expedite the request for their outstanding efforts. Yet those red eyes flashed in my memory. It was a brief encounter as she stood over her new class, yelling at them with all the surety of a veteran. The young man’s screams were horrific, and yet she had not left a mark on him. I made an effort to speak with her before I had left the academy, and her words still made me shudder.

“What is there to regret in the removal of faulty human resources? If anything, he should thank me since I may have saved his life.”

Former Cadet Johannes Bauer was currently in an asylum following his discharge from military service. He complained daily about how the military oath had been burned into his brain, and he couldn’t escape it. Giving a young girl capable and willing to do such a thing with no remorse the clout of the Silver Wings Assault Medal was a frightening prospect. Between that and the swirling rumors about her parentage, there was a real chance she could build connections into the very heart of the Empire. Was she an omen of victory or defeat?

A child honed into the perfect weapon is terrifying. The only way to use Degurechaff is to turn her on the enemy. Is it right to bestow honor and influence on a soldier I can only possibly hope to control with a prayer?

IMPERIAL ARMY NORTHERN THEATER, MILITARY GARRISON 1, MEDICAL ROOM 

The medical room was filled with the consistent clamor of rushing staff and moaning soldiers. Rows of beds held triaged soldiers that could be saved as the overwhelmed staff rushed here and there for those touch and go cases. Those who could be sent back home had done so, with the medical bay holding only those who couldn’t be guaranteed to survive the trip. 

One of the beds had the auspicious luxury of being separated from the others in a private room reserved for a rank much higher than its occupant’s. A soldier of shockingly young age, whose performance at the opening battle of the war had caused wild rumors to spread throughout the border garrisons, often met with incredulity.

Outside of her room was a new source of noise adding to the chaos.  Just a few days ago a collection of high ranking Imperial officers had made their way through the garrison awarding medals and accolades to the brave heroes of the Empire. A ripple of awe and doubt spread when the news that this soldier had been awarded the Silver Wings Assault Badge, bolstering morale and raising innumerable questions. With little more to do than endure the pain, a rather energetic discussion had erupted in the bay.

“Did you hear? I heard Siegfriede defeated a whole battalion solo.”

“Are you stupid? I was in those skies. No, the real story is that Degurechaff managed to survive encountering an enemy mage company. Anything else is just PR blowing smoke out their ass.”

“You take that back! I was part of the artillery she was observing for. I saw her take down at least seven of those Entente bastards.”

“You're just jealous ‘cause you didn’t even get a name after getting shot out of the sky, too.”

“What kinda of name is Seigfriede anyways? Why not uuhhh… Silver Kobold. Ya know? ‘Cause of the medal and how small she is?”

“Someone gave that man too much morphine.”

“Fuck you too.”

“I mean, beating a company of Entente mages might as well be as possible as slaying a dragon.”

“Think when she gets herself a man he’ll have to go by Brunhilde?”

“I still think you're all crazy for believing in that shit.”

The soldier at the center of all this attention was currently laying in her bed with her new medal lying next to her, wondering how she was going to survive her next encounter with an enemy far more dangerous than a company of mages.

Her mother.

Chapter Text

UNIFIED YEAR 1923 IMPERIAL ARMY NORTHERN THEATER, MILITARY GARRISON 1, MILITARY COMMANDER’S OFFICE

2 nd Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 12

“Rejoice. This is an unofficial notice of your domestic reassignment with the combat instructor unit, along with a request that you be lent out to headquarters as technology inspection personnel.”

Rear service! While not as ideal as the Railroad Department, it was a respectable position I could use to ride out the rest of my contract. After all the whispering and glances I received after being awarded the Silver Wings Assault Badge, I feared that they would send me to the frontlines as a propaganda push. I had failed miserably in my initial goal of avoiding attention. Military gains were for war mongers. I only fought that hard to survive. Not to be seen as an effective weapon. ‘Siegfriede’...how ostentatious. I don’t particularly want to be a dragonslayer for the Empire, thank you very much.

Magic-based healing was far too effective. It had been only days since the opening battle, yet I was already able to walk around and had been declared fit enough for light duty. The military doctor had informed me that mages were not only much more robust than your average individual, but also that magical aptitude played a major role in the effectiveness of formula based healing. As such, wounds that should have allowed me an honorable and graceful medical discharge were more like inconveniences. Unless I lost a limb or suffered a significant amount of tissue loss, so long as I was brought back to the mage medics, they would make me fit enough to put me back on the front lines again and again.

Still, a combat instructor unit really was the best outcome, as the headquarters were in Berun, meaning that I could visit Masha and Vera. 

I repressed a shudder. I was not looking forward to the lecture that was no doubt waiting for me. Yet, I missed them. They were the only people that I knew for certain were both sane and had a shared interest in my survival. How could I not miss them? Though I do hope Vera had not followed through on her threat of revealing my origins to the Kaiser. Considering that an entourage of Public Relations and Political personnel had not come to collect me yet, I was fairly certain she hadn’t, or if she had, it had been ignored.

“I intend to respect your wishes as much as possible, but is it safe to assume there are no objections?”

Snapping out of my musings, I noticed that the commander looked slightly uncomfortable. I wondered if I had been staring for too long, or perhaps giving deployment orders to a child was just an uncomfortable experience. Either way, I sympathized with the man. If it was the latter, I should use that weakness to maximize whatever benefits I can attain from this interaction.

“Yes, I have no complaints. I humbly accept my deployment orders.”

“Excellent. You will test a new computational orb model at Supply and Logistics Headquarters. As a formality, you will transfer there from the instructor unit,” the commander said, signing off the orders. “Nonetheless, I’m sure you must have some things you want to ask. Permission for questions granted.”

Ah. A sensible superior is always deserving of admiration.

“I appreciate it. In that case, first I’d like to ask why you went to the effort of assigning me to the instructor unit.”

There were too many unknown variables in what could have influenced the head of Personnel's decision to give me not just one, but two great positions. Knowing the possible political considerations or circumstances that influenced that decision were pivotal to avoiding future troubles.

“There is no doubt of your ability Lieutenant. However, sending a child to the front is still bad for optics.”

Where was this common sense when Control decided to order a child to engage an enemy company solo?! I am loath to be perceived as inept or useless, but I really should lean into the fact I am a child more. The fact it had taken this long for the brass to come to this conclusion was disconcerting. It was too late to change my behavior at this point though. I doubted I could keep such an act up for as long as I would be required to for the desired results. There was no mention of any noble or political concerns, which was a relief. Still this was no time to lower my guard.

“So, you’re telling an ace to go be a decoration in the rear?”

I had to be certain of their intentions while avoiding being seen as a coward. Even if I wanted nothing more than to embrace my pacifist ideals, it was obviously not a sought after trait in a military organization. Serving as a propaganda tool is exponentially better than being shot at in the front lines.

“What a novel opinion, Lieutenant. It never would have occurred to me.”

He didn’t reject the idea outright. It must be reasonable to conclude that I wasn’t too far off the mark then. Vera and Mom should be reassured when I tell them the news. 

What a weight off my shoulders! The cost of considering the opinion and wellbeing of others was an interesting novelty in this life. Thankfully, the benefits were enough to outweigh them.

“Do excuse me.”

“The higher-ups, myself included, think highly of you. That’s why they’ve placed you in charge of developing the new model.”

“May I inquire about the new model?”

“Hmm… I was only told it’s a prototype computation orb.”

My mask slipped for only a moment as I winced unconsciously. My history with computation orbs has been rather disastrous thus far. Truly, they were marvels of technology that were designed in ways that were completely at odds with the abnormalities I possessed. Though, looking back at that desperate rush, the only reason I was alive was because of those abnormalities.

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant?”

I grimaced internally. The last thing I want is to be expected to handle incredibly sensitive magic equipment with my mana. “No, sir. If you would not mind another question, is the Support and Logistics Headquarters aware of my mana’s…peculiarities?” 

“Unfortunately, Lieutenant, I don't know the answer to that question. However, there has been some chatter that you were singled out specifically for this position. I can’t imagine they would have done so without having done their due diligence,” the commander said, sporting a wry grin at my worries.

“I see. Thank you.” 

Well, that’s a start, at least. I can't imagine the meritocratic Empire would have researchers unwilling, or unable to research their own testers.

UNIFIED YEAR 1923, SCHÖNEBERG, NOLLENDORFPLATZ, RESIDENTIAL QUARTER

Vera Gedroits

Hans and Igel had become individuals I valued greatly, and I was endlessly grateful to have them in our lives. Having said that, they also had a fascinating talent for being uncompromisingly supportive and boisterously maddening, simultaneously.

Hans was a wiry, energetic man in his early thirties who made every effort to stay impeccably well-dressed, sporting his familiar pince-nez. He could converse in Imperial, Rus, Francois, and Albish, was well educated, and quite charming. His only fatal flaw, as far the Empire was concerned, was his sexuality. He spoke very little about his past, and in turn never pried into ours. The man had made it his mission to build and support this little community in Berun, and seemed to have both the connections and funds to do so.

Elsa, or as she preferred, Igel, was a ruthless businesswoman who I felt empathy for due to our shared struggles. We both shared a preference for masculine clothes and neither of us were petite women. At some point, Igel had decided that we were sisters and she had a responsibility to ensure I was taken care of, going as far as procuring another apartment for Masha and I with Hans’ help. Unlike me, however, Igel was a much more boisterous individual. Her spiked hair was as loud as she was. She and her partner Mali were also much more open about their affections in a way that ‘scandalous’ failed to fully describe. Their bar, the Mali und Igel and the club within, the Monbijou des Westens, have been wildly successful. These profits were used jointly by her and Hans to build up the Nolle.

Scant few items had survived the fire in our apartment, and what did had been quickly gathered by the two and their associates for safekeeping. Today was moving day. Masha had been cleared to leave the hospital only recently, her release having been delayed following the Empire’s declaration of war on the Entente Alliance.

“Vera darling, you simply must wear something other than that drab affair. I know a wonderful tailor on the Wittenberg Platz, bespoke of course. After we get you and darling Maria all squared away, we simply must go.”

“Hans. As tempting as that is, the society of the Empire seems quite adverse to me dressing as such. At this time, I have no desire to garner any more attention than I already have.”

“Nonsense. This is the Nolle, after all. Sure, you might need to consider the more closed minded individuals while in Charite but we are safe here,” he said, waving a hand flippantly. 

Hans was a man who never seemed to run out of energy. I worried that he was relying on an amphetamine of some sort, but he never displayed the traditional signs of misuse.

“There is a war going on, Hans. Safe is a relative term.”

“Haa,” he sighed loudly, “Vera darling, must you be so dour during such a wonderful occasion?”

“I am being realistic, Hans. There is a difference. While your boundless optimism is appreciated as always, this wonderful occasion is marred by its origins. Now when will Masha be arriving?”

Hans rolled his eyes and pulled out a civilian computation orb, a STOWA Antea Model. While the man was far below the threshold for a military mage, his magical aptitude was enough for ‘simple’ or ‘household’ formulas. I had considered picking up one for myself, but the cost with how limited the orbs were had convinced me against doing so. Most of what it allowed Hans to do was already within my reach without an orb.

“Igel should be arriving with Maria here shortly, provided she doesn’t get distracted. Speaking of which, how is Tanya?”

“Alive, and by the Lord’s grace she should be arriving in Berun within the week. Beyond that I don’t know. That child has apparently made it a priority to write every letter with as much brevity as she can.” 

Honestly, that child will be the death of me. Knowing she was at the border when the war broke out had made for a harrowing week of worry and fear. Her last letter had arrived with only three sentences: ‘I’m safe and healthy. My next posting is a rear position in the capital city. Will visit when I arrive.’ 

“Vera darling, you can’t sound that annoyed while looking that wistful. It doesn’t suit a woman of your station,” Hans quipped, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Enough stalling, Hans. The dresser isn’t going to move itself.”

The damn thing was heavy, but seeing Hans’ face fall was wonderful motivation. However, providence seemed to be on his side as the door to the apartment crashed open followed by an echoing “HALLO!”

Igel swaggered through the door in her heavy boots, pushing Masha’s wheelchair with a familiar vicious grin. Masha at this moment had her face in her hands with her ears a bright red, though her shaking shoulders betrayed her attempts to stifle her laughter. The wound on her temple was healing well and her hair had started to grow back. For all the benefits of modern medicine, damage to the brain was still a field filled with unknowns. She suffered from bouts of extreme dizziness and migraines, and while medicine could help mitigate the symptoms, there was no known way to address the cause.

“I have brought the princess to her princess, as all dashing heroes are duty bound to do. I must say, it was a rather drab adventure with not nearly enough wenches or treasure,” she elaborated. At some point Igel had heard Masha call me a princess and latched onto that.

“Hello, Igel. Thank you for bringing Masha home. I should hope you did not bring any wenches around my partner, or you would be a poor hero indeed. How was your adventure, my love?”

Masha took a moment to compose herself, still giggling intermittently at Igel’s theatrics. “Far too exciting for a freshly released patient. I can take it from here, Igel. Would you mind assisting Hans for a moment?”

Igel glanced down at Masha with a gentle smile that I imagine few other than Mali and the individuals in this apartment would ever see. She gave Masha’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze before she clambered past me with a swift but hearty pat on my back. Masha rose shakily from the wheelchair, and it hurt my heart to see just how fragile she appeared nowadays. Meeting her halfway, we embraced as if we had been separated for days rather than the reality of hours that had passed.

“Welcome home,” I whispered.

“Not quite. Not until Tanya is here,” She whispered in return, and I squeezed her in response. After an embrace that was both excessive and yet distressingly brief, we finally separated. Masha wordlessly gestured over to the sofa, and we walked in lockstep together as she all but fell into it.

“Has there been any updates from our exceptional daughter, Vera?”

“None since the last letter, my dear. She might be unconventional, but she has always been a woman of her word. If she says she is going to visit, I believe her.”

“She was in the battle at the border, wasn’t she?”

“She hasn’t said as much, but I believe so. With how limited our communication has been, Tanya has made a point to not mention anything about the battle. If she had managed to avoid combat, that would likely have been information she would have prioritized.”

“Was she injured?”

“I don’t know, Masha.”

“Does the Empire know now? About her?”

“If they do, they are being rather quiet about it. Perhaps they haven’t made any confirmations yet, but I imagine that if they are certain I expect we will be receiving some rather inquisitive visitors.”

“She was right. Our frightening daughter was right. We should have left the Empire.”

“Let's not talk about should haves and would haves now, my love.”

“I miss her.”

“So do I, my love. So do I.”

“Oy vey. Enough of this. You don’t want Tanya coming home to both of you moping do you? Her birthday is coming up soon, yes? Let’s go out and get her something, maybe it’ll shake the melancholy off you two.” Igel interjected, leaning against the doorway, apparently finished helping Hans with moving. Though help might have been a strong word with how much the poor man was sweating. “I need to make sure the little firebrand knows I miss her too, so she doesn’t get any wild ideas about staying a soldier or some other insanity, knowing her.”

Me and Masha shared a brief incredulous glance between each other, before smiling back at Igel. My contacts in Schöneberg were pen pals or acquaintances at best. We were truly blessed to have met these two.

“Well Masha, it seems we are not finished with your adventure for today. Are you okay to leave?”

“I believe I lack the adventurous spirit to join you in this escapade, my dear. Let me rest and regale me of travels when you return.” She kissed me, and as we rose together she held her head in a wince.

“Another migraine?”

“It’s nothing to worry about love. Now I may not be able to join you, but I have a request. A record player and vinyl with something Tanya can dance to. We can’t have her forgetting how to be a lady just because she is surrounded by all those soldiers. Oh, and make sure Igel doesn’t pick out anything obscene.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Eugh, you are both so mushy. Where is the passion?” Igel said with a scrunched up face.

“In private, like sensible and decent individuals. Now move, so Masha can rest without having to hear your voice shake the walls,” I elaborated. With an overexaggerated bow, Igel shifted away from the door. 

As I laid Masha down, the smile on her face made my heart soar. Rationality be damned, I would do anything for her. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I’ll be sure to keep Igel on her best behavior, Maria. You have my word. Do let us know if you need anything else. Oh, and do tell Tanya I said hello should I miss her visit.”

As we left the apartment, I double checked that the door was locked. We had developed a knock system to ensure that there would be no repeats of that last mistake. That, and in addition to the new furniture we had also procured ourselves a pair of Luger P08’s for each of us. Age had devalued most of our advantages that our magic had once given us, but if our attackers could not be driven off by bullets, then we never had a chance.

“She’ll be fine, Vera. Now, we have a mission, and I for one refuse to leave a woman disappointed,” Igel said with a grin, clapping me on the shoulder.

KRUSKOS ARMY AIR CORPS TESTING LAB

2 nd Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 12

The train ride back to the capital from the border had been a restless one, with the train mostly filled with the few returning injured. Unfortunately, the expedient option of flying was unavailable to me after I had burned out yet another of the Empire’s computation orbs. The Northern Border garrison did not have the orbs to spare on a mage known for destroying them, even a newly highly decorated mage. The reputation I was developing was rather…problematic. Even the most successful salesman will still get fired if they have a history of totaling company vehicles. It doesn’t matter if the company vehicles are ill equipped for the salesman’s needs, it is still company property. 

Flexing my left hand, I once again marveled at how effective magical healing was. They had to literally cut the slagged orb out of my hand. The fact I could bend my fingers at all, even if it was limited, was a testament to its effectiveness.

Exiting at Central Station, my waiting escort was one of the many scientists working at Elenium Arms. It's unbecoming to fail to learn the names of your future coworkers, but the lack of proper sleep and the still recovering wounds had greatly reduced my mental capacity. With how much the man spoke of Dr. Adelheid von Schugel, and how little he spoke of himself, I filed his personal identity as low priority. Instead, my focus was on what he was saying, and the content of his words was rather troubling. The words eccentric, visionary, and stubborn are not particularly worrying, but when spoken in the same breath as workplace injuries and prior casualties, troubling was putting it mildly.

“I’m sorry did you say this Type-95 has a history of exploding? That must be a hyperbole. Right?”

“Dr. Schugel is adamant that the previous failures with the Type-95 lie solely in the operators.”

I genuinely cannot tell if this man is trying to warn me, or truly does not see those events as an issue. Was this a similar case of the Messerschmitt Me 210? Where the prototype had promise but was effectively just a death trap that was too promising to be abandoned? If that was the case, my only hope was that I was coming after its major issues had been ironed out.

“I’m sure he is. How soon am I expected to start assisting with its development?”

“As soon as possible, lieutenant.”

Of course.

“Please inform the doctor that I will be taking a brief preapproved leave, authorized by Central before my transfer, of two days, after which I will report back to the Kruskos testing lab to begin assisting as best I can.”

“Dr. Schugel will not be happy to hear that lieutenant.”

I gave the scientist a wry smile, “I am more afraid of my mother than I am of him. Unfortunately, the doctor’s ire will have to wait.”

“A recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge can experience fear?”

“Of course, I am still human after all. If it is an absolute emergency I will be in Schöneberg district, which is a brief car ride away.”

“I suppose I would not want to get between the woman who raised Siegfriede. It will only be for two days, correct?”

“Of course, I am aware that we are at war, sir. Time may not be on our side. Still, I believe it is best that we should use what free time we have as it will surely be a luxury we cannot afford in the future.” Time off is an invaluable incentive for any employee, and should be encouraged to prevent burnout and allow them to cultivate a healthy personal life. Currently the Empire’s military agreed, though I doubt they would for long. Time off for public servants was rarely treated as well as private employees.

I was informed that Public Relations had initially wanted to use my story to ‘promote the war effort,’ but apparently that plan had to be adjusted. I’m rather thankful that they had the tact not to paint a child as a war hero, and that Mom and Vera’s first news about me would not be through propaganda. I repressed a shudder as the nightmarish daydream of Vera storming the royal palace gates, newspaper in hand, played out in my mind. 

The newspapers, thankfully, were rather ambiguous about the details, only mentioning my age and the award I had won. They also decided that my actions were too unbelievable and so I had “downed 3 mages and repelled the enemy company”.

Waving the man goodbye after he had called for an escort car, I spent the majority of the ride to Schöneberg in contemplative silence. The odd mixture of emotions in my chest swirled; it had been months since we had seen each other in person. Originally, the plan was to have a triumphant return on leave after my graduation, but the army posting to finish my training had delayed that, and then of course the damn war broke out. I had set aside a portion of my stipend to be distributed to them, and I hoped that had helped in some way if the cost of damaged equipment had not completely consumed it. While I had been assured that I was not being held financially responsible for the items, I was skeptical. From what I remembered from my old world, militaries were remarkably efficient at deducting the pay of soldiers and frequently abysmal on their dispersal.

The Silver Wings Assault Badge was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I was not dismissed outright just for my appearance, which was a marked improvement. On the other, the looks of awe and respect from the younger military members, and even some of the older ones, were concerning. Being known as a hard worker, while beneficial for growth, could also have you ladened with more work without additional compensation. A normal freshly minted 2 nd lieutenant would have had to get their own taxi and pay out of pocket, while I was graciously given a ride in a military vehicle by Military Personnel.

The red eyes peering back at me in the window felt oddly foreign.

It wasn’t as if I was unfamiliar with my own face; after all, I had made a concerted effort to practice and perfect the various expressions that would best serve me in the mirror. War was known to drive perfectly rational people insane, so I made a mental note to ensure my mind had not been too impacted by the experience. The frantic battle felt like it had lasted hours instead of the scant few minutes it actually had taken. There was pride in my ability to effectively perform my duties while prioritizing my own survival, but it was marred by what those duties entailed.

My hand absentmindedly found its way to the medal as I contemplated removing it before my visit. By military standards, this was one of the few awards that required mandatory display barring any new decrees about uniform wear. Still, this award was a giant flashing warning sign that I was in what even the Empire’s military considered an overwhelmingly dangerous situation. It also meant that anyone would know I had not just gone through corroboration with military operations, but personally entered combat and had caused enemy casualties. With how Vera had reacted previously I did not believe she would be overly judgmental, but it was still worrying. As a pragmatic rationalist, their concerns only really affected my potential civilian career opportunities, but in this insane world, knowing I had individuals who cared about me was unbelievably valuable.

Sentimentality was not a particularly useful consideration in future planning, so when did I become so attached to the idea? At this point, I was starting to worry that the ideal of being a rational good person was being eroded away by my circumstances. I was of course still a good person who only desired peace, but absolute rationality was a luxury in this world. Clenching my teeth, the annoying memory of Being X resurfaced only for the anger to give way to paranoia. Was this change in thought that other one’s, Being J’s intention? Did I care about Vera and Mom, or was this existence the one that cared about them?

No. I am me and that has not changed. Even if it had been extreme circumstances, those two women are individuals that would be exemplary employees. As a former HR professional, this assessment had naturally laid the groundwork for my attachment. No one wants to lose a good employee, after all. I can equate this change in perspective as a situation similar to an entrepreneur with trustworthy sponsors turned partners. Being a cog in the machine may have prevented this outlook in my old life. With that mental issue solved, now there was the worrying concept of whose this ‘love’ might be.

“Ma’am? We’ve arrived.”     

Snapping out of my musings and exiting the vehicle, I thanked the NCO, and after I returned his salute he was on his way. The street and building was unfamiliar. I knew this was the address and what room they were in, but it felt alien. Taking in a deep breath, I entered the building and prepared myself for an assault I felt sorely unequipped for.

SAME DAY UNIFIED YEAR 1923, PASING MUNCHEN, SEREBRAYKOV HOUSEHOLD

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakova

A set of three uniform and insistent knocks came from the front door. I didn’t think we were expecting any guests; not that we had any since we had left Posen. Changing schools had been a rather upsetting experience, but at this point my scale of discomfort was rather skewed. Uncle Sergei had, knowingly or otherwise, put us and Tanya’s family in danger. ‘Old friends from the home country’ apparently had come to his farm and asked for work, and he didn’t feel the need to hide anything when they started asking questions. The screaming arguments had carved a sizable rift between us. Even Aunt Katya and the boys couldn’t seem to understand just how gone old Rus was.

Homework aside, the days have been wonderfully normal and peaceful. Munchen was beautiful and we lived comfortably, if simply. Dad’s starting funds held long enough for him to get a factory job, and his education had managed to help him into a managerial position. Mom kept herself busy with the local church group and occasionally with the newly emerging emigre organizations.

“Vika, can you get the door please?”

“Okay!”

Opening up the door was not a representative of either of those groups. Instead, there stood two men dressed in the Imperial Army uniform with one of them holding a clipboard.

“Good evening ma’am. I am Captain Oren, and this Lieutenant Keller apologies for the interruption. Are either of your parents present at this time?”

“Uh, yes. One moment.”

Closing the door as politely as I could I rushed to my mother who was in the middle of cooking dinner. My heart dropped out of my chest as a cold sweat came over me. Maybe they were here for a census, that’s all. Just a mundane and simple reason. That was the only positive thought I had as a deluge of irrational, and far more miserable scenarios rant through my mind.

“Who was it dear?”

“Mom it’s the-”

She didn’t even spare a glance at me as she continued her prep. I could barely speak and my mouth felt unbearably dry.

“It’s the Imperial Army. Captain Oren from the Imperial Army wanted to speak with you.”

I could watch in real time as she went absolutely still, resetting herself from the completely unexpected answer. Putting down the knife and turning off the stove, she gave me a pleading stare before heading to the door.

 “Viktorya, why don’t you go to the study to finish your homework?”

Gathering up what arithmetic homework was still scattered about on the small table, I scurried over to the study and placed my ear to the door. The muffled sounds of conversation were all I could make out. I could hear them enter the house as sounds of unfamiliar steps echoed out. Closing my eyes, I focused on trying to hear what was happening, hoping to hear anything to dispel the growing worry in my mind.

“Please, have a seat.”

“There is no need for that ma’am. We won’t be long, thank you though. As I am sure you know the Empire is at war. On behalf of the orders of the Emperor Wilhelm II and Chancellor Bethmann all citizens with magical aptitude have been called to serve the Empire. We have records that your husband and your daughter have the magical aptitude required of an Aerial Mage.” The sounds of shifting paper filled the silence between his next sentence. “Your husband's medical records however have shown that his pre-existing injuries have rendered him unfit for active duty. There is also the conscription notice for Viktoriya Serebryakov, daughter of Ivan and Anna Serebryakov. We thank your family for this act of service for the Empire. In that conscription notice is a train ticket and an itinerary to the Military Mage Academy where she will begin her training.”  

“You can’t just take my baby!”

“Ma’am, please calm down. With all due respect, your daughter is sixteen and there are already aerial mages several years younger in service at this very moment. If it is of any reassurance to you at all, there is a strong belief within the army that this war will be ending soon. Your daughter may never see any combat at all. Mage training is an extensive program after all.”

“I’ll go in her stead. She is far too kind for the military. She would make a terrible soldier…please.”

“I’m sorry ma’am. Once again the Empire thanks your family for fulfilling your duty as a citizen.”

Hearing mom plead like that brought back some rather terrible memories. Of the cold and hungry travel and men in unkempt uniforms. I waited for the sounds of opening and closing a door before I left the study. My mother was seated and hunched over with her face in her hands, an opened manilla folder next to her.

“Mom?” She jumped at my voice. Her tear stricken face contorted in fear and worry as a manic energy overtook her.

“Visha. You have to go. We can get a ticket to Posen. Your dad will understand. Come, I have some funds stashed away, we must hurry to the station.” As she fretted about, filled with panic, my own fear and worry felt so much smaller. She was right about one thing: I don't think I would make a very good soldier at all. I hated violence and I didn’t particularly have any real love for the military. Stopping her from running off, I wrapped her in a fierce hug from the back.

“Mom. Shh…it’ll be alright. The captain even said I might never see combat, right? Maybe they will see just how bad I am at being a soldier and they'll send me right back home. It’ll be okay.” I wonder if I am trying to convince her or myself. “Let me help you with dinner. I hear the army has terrible food and I would much rather enjoy a home cooked meal than trying to run away.”

With a shaky breath, I wondered when it was I had grown enough to hold her so. She had always seemed so amazing and brave, taller than any other woman I knew. Now reality was harshly reminding me she was human as I was. The weight of worry and fear seemed to be almost literal on the poor woman, her posture giving way to the weight. Gently swaying her in the embrace, I waited for when I knew she would surely return to the woman I knew I could always rely on. Mom and Dad were good parents and good people. Great parents; how many children can say they saw firsthand their own parents literally risk their lives for them? Slowly, the shaking breaths gave way to controlled and measured ones.

After a brief sniffle she turned in the embrace and hugged me back now. “Visha… my sweet Visha.” 

When the remaining tears from her face were wiped, all the strength I had seemed to collapse and now my own vision blurred. A small giggle escaped from her, and she placed a kiss on my forehead before wiping away my own tears. “When was it that you grew up to be so responsible? I thought I was watching over you so carefully, but somehow you grew into a wonderful young lady without my notice. Viktoriya, we left our home and so much behind to keep you from danger. Promise me that no matter what, you will do everything you can to stay safe and come home.”

“I promise, Mom.”

With a solemn smile she wiped away my fresh tears once more. “It would be best that you let me tell your father. So, we should make sure dinner is ready first. Come, you can peel the carrots.”

One more normal and peaceful night. Please, Lord, if you are listening, just one more. Keep my parents safe. A memory of red eyes comes to me, and I wonder what Tanya would have done if she had been conscripted. No, she and her caretakers were too smart to let such a thing happen. Lord, please keep them safe as well.

BEYOND THE REALM OF PERCEPTION

“I fear the situation is grave. As you are all well aware, the number of pious humans is decreasing rapidly.”

“It is immensely difficult to balance religion with the advance of civilization.”

The godly realm. A collection of gods and beings who, through individual machinations, were responsible for the continuance of the life-and-death cycle system. Elevating man to higher planes or through minimal guidance, they worked with the limitation of the system to the best of their abilities.

“How did the test fare?”

“Not good. They may have perceived it as a supernatural phenomenon, but beyond that…”

“I had a feeling it wouldn’t go well.”

“And what of the anomaly? Have we found the source of their arrival yet?”

Direct interference in the realm of Man was limited to consensus to mitigate any potential issues and to account for any overlap from the plans of others. A miracle had occurred in a land that was plagued by the loss of faith. A miracle that, from their perspective, felt incomplete, or at the very least unintuitive to them. Mortals were not equipped to live a new life with the memories of their previous one. Moreover, this individual was blessed with a level of mana that was near divine. Mana and magic were tools used by the gods once to cultivate faith through blessings and prayers. Prophets and saints thus were given the ability to perform acts that inspired worship.

Moses and the Parting of the Red Seas was an example of such an act. Now, through development of science, mankind now seeks to remove the divine from mana and contextualize the acts through natural sciences. The tests the archangel had mentioned were an attempt to replicate such an event, but now they were being attributed to worldly sources. A new miracle was not unwelcome; it was more that the intentions of this miracle were unknown.

This miracle was such a mystery that the gods themselves had gone out of their way to help preserve the existence of the individual. By its very existence, it had allowed them to speak with the child’s mother and a once lost priest had returned to faith with such a fervor that the miracle was proving itself promising. While it seemed to be only passively spreading faith, that was enough for the overworked gods. It had reminded them of a tool they had once forgotten. Awe in the face of the power of divinity.

“I wonder what the issue is. In the past, all we had to do was talk to them and they would understand that we were gods. Like the mother had understood.”

“Sometimes they would even call on us.”

The voices that called out to the divine realm as of late sought only material and fleeting salvation. They had no true desire to be saved. The age of myth was just another memory and the yearning for true salvation was a memory along with it.

“Divine grace was an effective tool once, but on the hand so too was divine wrath.”

“We cannot directly antagonize humanity; it could cause the precious few faithful to abandon their piety. Our greatest tool in the past was our intervention to protect them from catastrophes that have been impossible for them to avert on their own.”

“True, but so too was the threat of smiting those who lead the whole of humanity away from salvation. Examples were made of those who we chose not to spare through divinity as well.”

This was a common argument amongst the gods. The idea of tough love or actions for the greater good, that is. In the times of ancient empires, humans praised the gods for their progress. The Golden Ages of regions were tied to a belief system, such as Islam, Buddhism, Taoism, Christianity. Yet as humanity progressed out of earnest religious faith and duty, scientists sought to understand the truth of the world created by God. Mankind’s loss of faith was argued by several of the more radical gods to be due to the gods' decisions to not use the more destructive methods of divinity.

“Wasn’t the consensus that we would not intervene to avoid stunting their development? In their independence, they have forgotten us.”

We must seek the order created by God. The natural sciences stemmed from that objective, so the gods had actually been all for them. Mankind would evolve from mindless worship to reverent devotion with greater understanding. Unfortunately, like so many other worlds, mankind instead sought to focus on cultivating the natural sciences.  

“Does anyone care to propose a way out?”

A reliable and respected cherubim cut into the debate. Asserting that the basic policy was fine. They simply needed to develop a system that could compensate for the lost religious faith, and they would have no problems.

“As such, we really should refine one point and revive their faith.”

The proposal was accepted, though not exactly unanimously. Considering their previous policies there was a shared feeling they had their run of specific ideas. They were gods, but not God; their intelligence and foresight was hindered by the sheer scale of their existence.

“Sure, that plan makes sense, but what precisely should we do?”

“I’m not sure, but perhaps we should give the world a new holy relic?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

There were already as many holy relics as there were stars in the sky in the mortal realm. It was not an overly successful initiative in promoting faith in this current age. At best, the relics were prized as historical curiosities.

“The current relics are treasured, kept under lock and key. They’re unable to adequately fulfill their role in making divine grace known to the masses.”

Absolute memory was a blessing and a curse for they never forgot, but these memories never faded thus each experience was as clear as it has always been. The gods could not know everything, and each relic left was a memory as clear as day, and yet the time between their actions and the present was still unknown. It had taken a particularly exasperated archangel to go and investigate where their relics had gone off to.

“I see. No wonder they’ve forgotten religion and prayers. In a way, it’s rather ironic.”

“In that case, let us bestow the holy relic they need upon the world and teach them how to pray.”

“I have just the thing.”

“If you would not mind, I have my own suggestion.”

“We cannot interfere in this world anymore!”

A pair of voices rang out through the realm. Portions of the Trinity, in effect a level of divinity beyond most here. Singularities, true prophets, those that are the absolute pinnacle of faith were those who had business far more important than the cycle of life and death. Even still, they were not God, though they could wield authority above those in attendance.

“You were the first to interfere. We are and are not the Lord. We must be held accountable for our decisions,” spoke the King of Kings.

“I am allowed the discretion to act as I will on a simple single soul. Your actions affect this world in ways beyond our authority,” The Father spat.

“You speak as if yours would not. We do not, nor can we or should we force any individual into faith. We must be welcomed for faith to have any meaning. This is the will of the Lord. Return to the world of your responsibility I will accept accountability for my actions. I have been a martyr once, and I am not afraid to be one again. Can you say the same?”

Two voices of the same being, one that demanded respect and penance, the other with boundless forgiveness and acceptance. A staredown between divinity, yet only for a moment before the old man weighed by his burden gave an exhausted sigh, and with visible fatigue he returned to a reality beyond this.

“I apologize for our interruption. Please finish speaking your idea.”

“Ah, yes. There is a human in the mortal realm researching an item that is just a step from the godly realm. Given another one thousand years, it could be successful. We should speak with him and as a suggestion, rather than a holy relic, it should be a miracle.”

The idea spread through the gathering a collective murmur of agreement. Looking at the singular being who stood apart from them all, the Seraph who had proposed the idea, felt worried as there was no sign of acceptance from them.

“I believe that the individual who receives this miracle would be a poor choice for spreading the word of prayer. That isn’t to say I disapprove, in fact I believe our desires overlap. Due to a momentary lapse of emotion, an individual was sent to your world. I am also guilty of interfering, and for that I apologize.”

“If the King of Kings is the one responsible for the mysterious miracle, it must be for a legitimate reason. We have observed that her existence has promoted faith in those around her without instruction.”

“She is a difficult one, who I believe is simply lost, just as many others. She is a miracle of a miracle as such there were some… complications with her arrival. We are not meant to intervene for a reason. She has the potential to show the might of the Lord. Through the item you found it may help mitigate some of those complications.”

  “Couldyou explain what you are proposing? I worry that some of us, myself included, may not fully understand.”

“Of course.” With a smile of absolute serenity, he elaborated: “I wish to propose that the miracle is not one that helps this item hold the power of divinity, but to withstand the power of a miracle. Through her actions, the world will bear witness to the strength of the Lord and remember why the words ‘God fearing’ exist.”

“If we do not make this miracle reinforce the power of prayer, is it not possible she might use this power in a way that does not promote faith at best, or actively turn those away from us at worst?”

“I understand your concerns. For all her faults, she is not one who desires power. No, she is in her own words, a ‘peaceful individual’. In the face of a force that cannot be comprehended mankind seeks answers beyond their understanding, she will likely do everything in her power to avoid using it if possible. Should she ever become a danger to the future of humanity, I will personally remove the miracle of which I had granted her.”

The angel who proposed the idea initially nodded enthusiastically. After all, even in the realm of the gods it was still good when a superior wanted to use your plan.

“I agree absolutely. The man who is developing this device is one of great intellect, but also great pride. While he has experienced failure before, it may be best that he experience your miracle first before I attempt to speak with him. I believe that in the face of that which he cannot possibly account for, he will be willing to turn to that beyond his own intellect.”

“Wonderful! I hope you do not mind if I spend a brief period of time in this world. Until such time as my actions no longer cause immediate effects upon this world. Of course, I have no desire to interfere with your decisions any further, and as such I must recuse myself.”

As quickly as he had arrived, he left the gods to their responsibility of governing this world once more. Sighs of relief were privately released. Although God may know all and see all, it was rather discomforting to have eyes so close. The discussion continued, though guided in the pursuit in ensuring that their actions did not disappoint their new guest. As they once more looked upon the world, a weight of weariness was felt. Would their guest judge them for how few believers there were?

Chapter Text

JULY, UNIFIED YEAR 1923, SCHÖNEBERG, NOLLENDORFPLATZ, RESIDENTIAL QUARTER

2 ^nd  Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 13

Igel and Hans really were good people. How they had secured a room on the second floor of this apartment complex was an impressive display of their connections; Schöneberg may not be the top of desirable locations, but it was still near the imperial capital. Housing competition here could be fierce, which was exemplified by the cramped and almost closet sized apartment we had stayed in before.

With a small frown, I thought back to the last place that had felt like home. Every unfamiliar face since then has become a potential threat. It was exhausting, honestly. The situational awareness, combat training, magic training, and weapons training I underwent helped curb some of the more irrational fears, which may have been the only real benefit to being in the military. Now two grown men without guns or magic no longer seemed as threatening. 

…I shook those thoughts away. This was supposed to be a vacation, after all. After double checking the letter from Vera and ensuring that this was the correct room and building, I knocked on the door and waited.

“Who is it?” 

I missed her voice. “It’s me, Mom. Tanya.” I was an adult, and I was even a productive member of society again. In this life, Tanya may still be a child, and while I still worried that there was some mental degradation it felt… right to say ‘mom’.

I glanced around to see if there was anyone around; I did have to keep up appearances, after all. The only time a soldier can call out for their mother is when they are dying. It would be unacceptable for them to conduct themselves in such a way otherwise.

I could hear a flurry of movement behind the door. Five sets of distinct footsteps. Hans, Igel and Mali, perhaps? The fact that neither Mom nor Vera had come and simply answered the door without asking was both comforting and sobering. I did not have to wait long for a set of steps to approach the door. Even as I braced myself, I could feel myself relax unconsciously as I saw Vera opening the door. She looked healthier since my last memory of her, which was possibly one of the worst days of her life. I far preferred this appearance, and that had to have been one of the widest smiles I had ever seen from the woman. I didn’t even have a moment to greet her before she engulfed me a fierce hug.

“Welcome home, Tanya.”

“Tadiama,” an involuntary whisper escaped me as I returned her hug.

“What was that dear?”

Taking the opportunity while my face was buried in her dress to recompose myself, I surreptitiously wiped away the unexpected tears into her dress before pulling back.

“I said I’m home.”

It was good to be home. Maybe this wouldn’t be as awkward as I had worried. As she pulled back her warm smile slowly shifted into a face of worry. I followed her gaze back to the medal hung on my chest.

Oh.

“Tanya, can you please take that off before we go inside?” It was an almost haunted whisper of a request.            

I didn’t even hesitate for a moment as I undid the clip and gingerly placed the medal into my officer bag. At the moment, other than the letters from Vera my only possessions were military issued. A mixture of emotions played across her face before settling into bemused exasperation. I knew she was holding back a deluge of questions, and I appreciated her level head. She kissed my forehead, shaking her head as she pulled back. Grabbing my hand, she turned into the apartment.

“Come, Tanya.”

As she led me through the entrance way into the dining area, I found my previous guess to be correct as Hans, Igel and Mali were standing behind a table that mom was sitting at. A cake was in the center with thirteen lit candles. As we entered the room, Igel took in an exaggerated breath before attempting to yell something.

“SURP-,” was as far as she got as before Mali and Hans clamped their hands over the boisterous woman’s mouth.

In unison all but Igel, much more calmly, chanted out “Happy birthday Tanya!”

I had forgotten. Well technically, it wasn’t my actual birthday, but it was Tanya Degurechaff’s birthday. Tatyana’s was actually in August. Time had been a blur since the attack. Vera and Mom had insisted on celebrating every birthday no matter how austere of a celebration it had to be. Every year it was something, a dress, chocolate, cake, there was always something.

“Well! Aren’t you simply dashing in that uniform, Tanya.”

“Hans!” Mali admonished lightly slapping the man on the shoulder. “She is not playing soldier, don't tease the girl. Besides, she looks more professional than most of the officers I’ve seen in the capital.”

“Careful Mali, Tanya has a responsibility to defend those officers now,” Hans admonished back. Amusingly the two of them were having this byplay while still holding their hands over Igel’s mouth.

“Stop muzzling Igel you two! And Tanya,” Mom said, still seated, her arms outstretched “could I have a hug too?”

A gentle push from Vera was unnecessary, but welcomed encouragement. If we had not had guests at this moment I think I would've sprinted at her. Thankfully, they help keep my more illogical impulses retained through social decorum. Moving faster than I had wanted to at the seated woman, I all but jumped into her arms as we held each other tightly. I wonder if she was feeling the same relief. She was still alive and so very warm. The smell of chocolate and lavender filled my nose.

“You’ve grown, I don't remember you being this tall. My precious daughter, welcome home.” Grown? Hardly. Military rations for aerial mages were generous, but I was either a late bloomer, or a military lifestyle was logically detrimental for a growing child. Maybe I had grown an inch, but not much more than that.  

Home. An actual home to return to with people who cared and were waiting for me. Not an empty apartment, or a house distant from any connections beyond purely socially demanded facades. I squeezed tightly and reaffirmed my future plans and goals. We were going to leave the Empire and get the hell out of this war together. The Empire’s meritocracy might have given women some employment opportunities, but I was confident that I could find similar success elsewhere. 

A voice muffled by two hands spoke out as best they could: “Can we have cake now?”

Realizing I had held the embrace longer than I had intended, I released the embrace, albeit reluctantly. A collection of bemused faces came into view after backing away. I swallowed my embarrassment and put on a well-practiced disciplined face, ignoring the building heat in my ears.

“I thought I was the only child in the room, Hans, Mila. Could you please let Igel speak like a human? I couldn’t understand her mumbling through your fingers,” I said, leveling a practiced stare of disappointment developed after watching over the lackluster aerial mage recruits in the academy.

The two adults at least had the decency to look chagrined before finally taking their hands away from Igel's mouth. Igel for her part looked very pleased at the turn of events, grinning like a cat that caught the canary.

“I said can we have cake now? Before all your candles cover the top with wax. It is a very nice cake, Tanya.” Mila gently slapped her shoulder, her face a mix of enamored exasperation. “Come on now, make a wish, Tanya.”

Rolling my eyes, I maneuvered over to the table. Birthday wishes, logically, are pointless at best and childish at worst, so I  simply blew out the candles quickly. Wishes won’t change my circumstances, and I didn’t need them either. For now, a slice of cake with good company was more than enough. It was a pleasant affair, cake accompanied with milk and some unexpected presents: a simple dress from Mila, pens and paper from Hans; Igel’s gift however was quickly confiscated by Vera and honestly I didn’t even want to know what it was. My favorite gift was from Vera and Mom, which was a record player and a dance. It wasn’t a ballroom, just the living room with all the furniture moved to make as much room as possible.  Dancing in my uniform was an experience I hoped to avoid in the future.

The afterparty conversation was pleasant, simple and unimportant with only a few questions about my new career like, ‘What is it like to fly’ or ‘How much longer do you think you will stay in?’ Besides that, it was everything I had wanted. A time to just be a normal human. The guests said their goodbyes and promises to visit again after helping move the furniture back. Igel whispered conspiratorially that she was sure that I would enjoy her gift before she left, which only made me appreciate Vera’s act all the more. The apartment was now much more subdued with the sounds of clinking plates in and general clean up.

“Okay, Tanya. We need to talk,” Vera said while gently leading Masha to the couch, who had a mixture of confusion and worry on her face. “Please show Masha your medal.”

Was it possible to fly without a computation orb? In theory it should be, and I was suddenly very motivated to try. Where would I go? This was home, if anything this was the final bastion of sanctity. There was no retreat from this battle. When I took out the Silver Wings Assault Badge from my bag, it felt abnormally heavy. Mom’s wide eyed expression upon seeing it hurt in a way I couldn’t articulate.

“Tanya. There was a story in the newspaper just a few weeks after the start of the war that mentioned a young aerial mage had earned that very medal after repelling an enemy mage company. That was you, wasn’t it?” The look on Vera’s face so clearly displayed her desire for me to correct her.

“It was.”

 ““Tanya!”” I winced as they both exclaimed.

“What happened?”  A simple question.

Had it been from anyone other than Masha, I could have answered it without hesitation. Now it felt like my tongue was stuck. Why? This wasn’t the first time I had been scolded as a child, or even in a professional setting. Being able to respond correctly in such a scenario was a skill I had honed over decades. So why was this different? This was different. I did not fail in my actions. No, rather it was that Mom was prioritizing my wellbeing so highly that any results, regardless of their potential benefits, were weighed against any harm I could have experienced. Have I ever been valued over my productivity before?

I genuinely felt like a child again with just how unfamiliar I felt in this new social dynamic as I explained what had occurred that day. Maintaining eye contact was a well-established practice and skill set that at this moment was completely unavailable to me. They stayed quiet as I explained the border posting, the training premise, the start of the war, artillery observation and that miserable encounter over Norden. Their faces were so full of worry and anger it was almost impossible for me to look at them before a foreign shame overtook me.

“Vera, how are our funds looking? Could you also find out when the next train to the Republic is?”

“I’d say if we are frugal, a month, maybe two depending on how the Mark holds across the border. It would have to wait until tomorrow, but I believe a better plan would be to take a train to Ildoa since they are a neutral nation.”

It was chilling just how calm and almost rehearsed they sounded as they discussed the idea of going AWOL and escaping the country. It was touching if you ignored all the consequences and potential pitfalls. Traveling cross-country with no promises of employment, connections, and a minimal amount of funds was absolutely asinine.

“I- What are you talking about?”

“Ah, you’re right dear, I had forgotten that the old plan never accounted for the Republic to start a war with the Empire. Tanya, it is very clear the Empire is not only able but willing to put you into unacceptably dangerous positions. I don’t care if it was the Kaiser himself, who tells a child to engage with enemy soldiers alone? Since the Empire is now embroiled in a two-front war there is no way Vera or I can entrust you with the royal family in good conscience.”

Entrust me?

“I can’t just leave! What if they follow after me? What if they catch you?! No. I appreciate the idea, but this decision is far too rash.”

Mom leapt from her seat, her face filled with desperation, “You could have died!”

“You almost did die!” I yelled back, “I didn’t join the military because I wanted to! I could’ve run away alone to Ildoa, or the Unified States or the Commonwealth but I stayed! I stayed because I didn’t want to lose either of you.”

Saying it out loud felt oddly freeing. It was the only thought I held on to during those two life threatening events. To return back home alive and safe. Patriotism? Nationalism? Those ideals held no value for me. If I thought even for a moment that escaping the Empire could have prevented all of this, I would have dragged these two women out myself.

“None of this is our fault. I’m not saying we should never leave the Empire. If anything, I endorse the idea but right now with no plans and no preparation? My current posting is just testing equipment in the rear. Why don’t we take the time to actually plan something instead of trying to run off and hoping for the best? You both just got back on your feet financially.”

“Tanya, Masha’s right. It wasn’t that you could have died, but you were placed directly into a position that made your death almost a certainty for most. If the Republic hadn’t joined the war, I would have gone to the palace the moment I had seen that medal. I don't want us to test fate anymore. We may not be your birth parents, but you are our child. We raised you; we love you. Please don’t ask us to keep our child in harm’s way for even a moment more.”

“I’m not in harm's way! Not right now. I just… I want us all to be safe. You know me. If there were any people in this world who could say that it is you two. I am not just a simple child. I can’t let you two abandon everything we’ve built here in the hopes it might keep me safe.”

“None of that matters more than you,” Mom all but yelled in tears with Vera nodding emphatically.

That had to have been the most illogical sentence she could have said, yet it was the most precious sentence I have ever heard. To prioritize a single individual over your own lives was an idea that was entirely alien to me. What about themselves? Why wouldn’t they prioritize their own lives or even their shared partnership? I pride myself on being able to have a grounded evaluation of my own worth. There was no way I held that much value logically and it wasn’t insulting to think so. If these circumstances had happened a lifetime ago, it would have been a perfect mark for exploitation. Yet now all I can feel is an unexplainable warmth at the concept rather than an outright rejection.

There was a rationale there. One I could almost understand now, but I was still missing something to fully understand. Love? Love was a force that denied all logic or reason. It was never something I ever had to consider when planning for my future. There was no need to, after all. It couldn’t be accounted for, nor did it fit into any calculations or predictions. Had I fallen victim to it? Looking back, I had not made the most logical of choices since that attack. Did I have any regrets? No, at least none based on the decisions made with what I knew at the time.

“Thank you.” What else could I say? Feeling the warm tears cross my cheeks I realize I have cried more in this life than I have ever before. “Even still. It does matter. Because you two are safe now. Safe, healthy with friends and employment. None of that is guaranteed if we leave without a plan. I won’t die, I promise. So, promise me when you do have a plan that we will all go together.”

“How can you make such a promise?” Mom’s face was filled with scrutiny. It was a legitimate question.

“It’s the only promise I can make. I am not ignorant to the realities of war. For most soldiers it is not a question of if, but when they will die. However, I am not an average soldier. As an aerial mage I am among the best equipped to ensure my own personal survival. Not only that, my mana has melted several computation orbs which I intend to use as a legitimate reason for withdrawal from service. Aerial mages are the only branch in the Empire someone my age can willingly volunteer for and if I am unable to perform those duties, I have a legal precedent to be released.”

Finding a way out of the military had been a primary goal from the start. An honorable discharge with no fault in my service would be a valuable line on my resume, which was infinitely better than desertion and trying to run from MPs. Ideally, this whole technical testing position will further prove this point. The two of them seemed to have a silent conversation between them before coming to a consensus.

“That’s not good enough, Tanya. You can’t ask us to spend every waking moment hoping you can perform miracle after miracle. There are no certainties in your words and my faith in the Empire’s goodwill is not in high regard from what you yourself have told us. We have survived with less before we can do that again. Hans and Igel will understand.” Mom’s face was filled with a fear that caused a foreign ache in my chest.

“I don’t need you to have faith in anything or anyone but me. More than that, this is different. I am not helpless. I can do more than just watch as you sacrifice yourselves for me. Unless the world has suddenly adopted a policy of tolerance, you two and your relationship are not welcomed anywhere else but here, and even that is just this small province of the Empire’s capital. We survived because you had a plan, people you can trust, a place you knew was safe. If you have another plan please I’d love to hear it. Otherwise, I will not go with you.”

““Tanya!””

“I am not a helpless child. If you want to run away to keep me safe you need my consent.”

The silence was painful. I was a well-disciplined child in my first life, a soldier in this one; to say it was difficult to outright deny authority that sought to prioritize my life was an understatement. This was a strange moment to have a rebellious phase, but I suppose I was around that age.

“The moment we have a plan…we leave. Together. Is that understood?” Vera seemed to almost muscle the words out. The look on Mom’s face clearly showed that she did not understand, nor agree, but she stayed silent. I nodded, ready to defend my position further before a pincer attack of fierce hugs crashed into me, the medal falling to the floor now forgotten. From the two of them I could only make out the muffled words of apologies and asking for forgiveness. I couldn’t understand what there was to apologize for or what to even forgive. So, I said the only thing I could think that might help soothe their worries if only a little.

“I love you both, so much.” 

JULY, UNIFIED YEAR 1923, PARISII, CAPITAL OF FRANCIOS REPUBLIC, A CERTAIN ROOM IN THE COMMONWEALTH EMBASSY

Anna Anderson

These past five years have reinforced my opinion of surprises; in that they are to be avoided at all costs. Maintaining separate identities, building connections, and learning the faith in humanity destroying power of leverage had kept me busy. The work was fine, though it did shine a light on just how miserable humanity could be, it was surprises that made my job miserable. I never thought I would find men attempting to become pious individuals so detestable until my work in HUMINT. Amy’s urgent message had come via a secure carrier. Either one of these would have been of no concern, but jointly? That might have well been a warning flare of danger.

“Amy, this meeting better be of the utmost importance. I’ll have you know I had to cancel a meeting with Lieutenant Colonel Vianto to come here.”

“It is.”

Oh, that’s not good. 

Amy was many things, but taciturn was not one of them. I wracked my memory trying to think of what could have put her in such a mood. Maybe her Entente connection had cut her off and she had to leave for here immediately? Or was it that she had been discovered? I warned her not to pursue General De Lugo so closely. Well, catastrophizing was going to get me nowhere, and if she was going to be so succinct, I should get a clear answer soon. I double checked the door before asking any questions.

“Well then what is this about?”

“Do you have any siblings I am unaware of?”

What? “What?”

“Do you have any siblings that I am unaware of?”

“Amy what are you talking abo-? Wait no, why are you asking me this.”

“So, you do?”

“Amy, tell me what this is about, or I’ll leave this room and find out for myself.”

“The Entente military intelligence division has provided the Commonwealth with a magic signature of an individual they claim to be responsible for obliterating an entire company. The lone survivor provided his description of a young girl with red eyes and black hair. Her signature has the markers that are extremely similar to that of your parents.”

Tanya? You’re alive? YOU ARE AN IMPERIAL AERIAL MAGE!? WHY?!

“I personally compared that signature to yours and while not an absolute match, they overlap too well to be a coincidence. Anna, do you have any siblings I am unaware of?”

“Yes.” When in a position of disadvantage, approach where the opposing individual least expects.

“Yes?!” Amy shrieked. The walls in this room were insulated, but if she keeps screaming like that it will attract unwanted attention.

“Yes. A sister to be precise, one that went missing before the revolution. One of the reasons I even wanted to work with you was to try and find her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought she was dead, Amy. The only information I was able to gain about her over the last five years was from Mr. Constantine. Even if that wasn’t about her explicitly, Maria Vishnyakova, her caretaker, had been declared deceased due to a gas explosion on a train outbound from Minsk. That’s all I had. It's why, before the politicians of the Entente Alliance decided to stick their hand in a hornets nest as a display of strength and expect to come out unscathed, I had been requesting a role in the Empire to see if I could find something, anything.”

“I believe the words in your request were that you were getting tired of the men in the Republic.”

“That too.”

Amy placed her face into her hands in exasperation. I won, or at least we are back on an even field now. This display at least showed that she wasn’t in serious agent mode anymore.

“You could have told me.”

“You could have told me that you were married.”

“That’s…fair. I told you eventually.”

“And I am telling you now. Besides, you only told me after I had found out on my own. Like how I am telling you after you found enough information to make your own connection. Now. Correct me if I’m wrong, but if you’ve figured this out that means so has Major General Habergram, Mr. John and the annoying lizards to say the least.”

“Anna, you should speak nicely of your in-laws-“

“I am being nice,” I declared, flashing her my sweetest smile. 

“You know what? Not our focus at the moment. They may have, though I haven’t reported my findings to them yet. To be honest, the only reason I even made a connection was because of how familiar I was with your magic signature. I initially thought the Entente intelligence agent was feeding excuses for why they were stomped so thoroughly at the Empire’s border.”

“Are you going to? Report your findings I mean.”

“Is that a genuine question? Of course I am, above all else, loyal to my nation. I have been very clear about that with you. Having said that, I am willing to delay my report if you are willing to answer additional questions.”

“Fine, but I want to be the one to bring your report back. In person.”

“I don’t think I can authorize that, Anna.”

“Amy, let's be professionals here. This report depending on your questions will present a possibility of a direct heir to the Romanov house still alive and in the Empire. Using my mana signature as proof. General Habergram’s and his incredible efforts to keep me and my sisters undiscovered just to let such a report go through standard channels seems unlikely to me. I’m certain there is room in the budget for a simple boat ticket.”

“There is no reason for me to make any mention of house Romanov, so your point is mute.”

Damn it.

“Ask your damn questions,” I spat.

“Come on Anna, this isn’t personal.”

“Amy. Ask or I’m going back to the café and phoning the Lieutenant Colonel again.”

The woman pouted, which maybe four years ago might have worked on me, but now I just returned a pout back. Amy heaved a sigh of defeat.

“Is your sister capable of performing the feat the Entente Alliance claimed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Anna!”

“Amy, I really don’t know. She was three when I last saw her! I don’t know anything about her anymore. Not that I seem to know much of anything about any of my siblings these days.” I paced around the quiet room, wracking my brain for any memory I could conjure about her. They were faded, almost non-existent, though her piercing red eyes still seemed to stay just as clear.  “She had a lot of mana; that was the whole reason Grigori fawned over her. She was smart, frighteningly smart for a three year old. But I have no idea how, between then and now, she could have become a monster capable of taking out a company of aerial mages completely by herself as a twelve year old.” 

“So do you believe they are exaggerating?”

“If it’s really her? Maybe?”

“Maybe?” Amy responded genuinely surprised.

“Amy, she is the reason I am here today. She knew we were going to die and made every effort a three year old could to change that. My stupid plan that eventually got Olya and Tatiana to beg father was because of her. For all I know, she was gifted with prophecy and could have defeated them that way.”

“Do you believe she is a threat to the Commonwealth?”

“No.”

“That’s a much more certain answer than I expected.”

“Amy, she’s… different. She could be a threat or a valuable asset. Every time the two of us spoke, I had to be a witness to her alien world view. It was like some demented personification of a merchant. Everything was a transaction, greetings, gifts, favors! As a child, it was fascinating, and as an adult it is terrifying. I don’t even want to know why she is in the military. What I do know however, is that if she is how I remember her, all we need to do is offer her a better deal than the Empire.”

“And you believe she would take it?”

“From a stranger? Absolutely not. From me? I hope so.”

“If the Commonwealth cannot offer her a better deal? What then?”

“Well then the Commonwealth better start looking into ensuring their mages are ready to be monster hunters. Amy, she doesn’t have to be our enemy. I am strongly suggesting we make every effort that doesn’t become one.”

“You’re not telling me everything.”

“Because it’s insane! Grigori would go on and on about how she was the ‘Last griffon of the Romanov’s’ and how she could remind the world of divine might. I thought he was trying to make me interested in my estranged sibling. The Federation to this day has bounties on us, Amy, despite publishing a report of our deaths. Grand Duke Kirill’s claim to the throne has stagnated in the Empire, but what if a child of the previous tsar appeared to support him? Not just any child, but a war hero of the Empire? She wasn’t one to stay idle either Amy. The sooner we can bring her to the Commonwealth the more cards we can take out of the Empire's hands and add to ours.”

“Okay, okay! I believe you Anna, but I don’t know how easy it will be to convince the higher ups of such a thing. You’re right, it is insane. I know you believe this but even if we convince Habergram, trying to get the politicians to believe that a twelve year old could cause a political crisis is going to be a hard sell and you know it.”

“Amy, she is in the military. She has to be desperate, even asylum surely would be enough.”

“Anna, are you certain it is her?”

“I won’t be until I get to the Empire, but Amy, I sincerely doubt this is just a cousin.”

“Can you give me a name, anything? It is not as if we don’t have agents in the Empire already Anna. If we could build a positive lead it would help your case.”

I groaned audibly; that really was the last bit of information I had to myself, and when you play all your cards there is no promise you will get to stay at the table. If it wasn’t her, then I was making a massive fuss over false hope all over again. I had to know. Any good news that I could finally bring back so I could hold my head up high to them. It’s been five years since we last saw each other in anything other than letters. I really did mean to come back and visit my siblings, but as time passed and I found nothing, the idea of coming back empty handed became too painful.

“Tanya. That was the name she had at the time. I don’t know what the surname was, it wasn't important to me at the time.”

KRUSKOS ARMY AIR CORPS TESTING LAB

2 ^nd  Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 13

An overwhelming bright flash of light was followed by a hiss as a jet of flame screamed out from one of the former cores of the Type 95 computation orb. As far as failures went, this was a rather successful one. The implemented safety features had held, which thankfully prevented the mana cascade from spreading to the other cores as it had in previous tests. Instead of losing most of the components, the engineers would only have to repair and rebuild one engine. Behind a mana shield put up by a back-up orb I refused to test without now, I went through the now rehearsed response plan.

“Lieutenant Degurechaff! It happened again?!” Dr. Adelheid von Schugel screamed as he ran across the airfield from the observation building.

“Dr. Schugel, with all due respect, you were the one who assured me this time that your supposed masterpiece would actually get off the ground.”

These arguments had become routine between me and the mad man who led this project. Of the last seven flight tests, not once could I successfully leave the ground with the Type 95 before it suffered yet another cascading failure. The primary reason was the very man throwing yet another tantrum. That wasn’t to say it was impossible; I had in fact flown with the Type 95, although only very briefly. Trying to monitor and direct my mana output while ensuring all four cores were synchronized allowed for a flight that showed the potential of the Type 95, rocketing me up faster than I ever flew before, only for it to burst into flames and forcing me to resort to parachuting down with a smoldering orb. The response to the test was a mixture of joy from the engineers and frustration at seeing their project almost produce results.

Honestly, the damn thing was doomed to fail. The mana demand would be unsustainable for the vast majority of mages and if you failed to meet that demand for even a moment the cores would desynchronize. Even if you kept up with the mana demand, the device left no tolerances for even the most minor of discrepancies. As a weapon, the Type 95 was more effective as an overengineered friendly anti-infantry device that could be reasonably expected to fantastically self-destruct rather than activate a basic explosion formula. The injuries I had begun to accumulate during testing were starting to compete with the ones I experienced in Norden.

The damned scientist seemed to have taken it as a personal insult after the only successful flight test when I informed him that I was having to restrict my mana output to avoid damaging the device. After that he demanded I approach every test without restricting my mana output. That went about as well as can be imagined with a device that barely had any tolerances to begin with, and sending a torrent of directed mana into the thing consistently caused a cascade of failures. 

Initially, I considered holding back, but the idea of being freed from this hostile work environment through a direct order was too tantalizing. Since then, the tests have followed the same failure pattern. I was starting to wonder if the Supply and Logistics Department had given the doctor an unlimited budget with the amount of repairs that had to be done. Even with all the failures, my unofficial transfer requests had been denied. Apparently, despite all these failures I was the only test subject to have produced any results. Considering this project had claimed multiple lives thus far, my contact at Personnel Affairs had even admonished me for my request telling me to “forge ahead atop the corpse of my fallen comrades”.

The mad doctor came to a solution as simple and impractical as the design premise of the Type 95. A design premise that would make this already overly engineered art piece even more specialized. If a six times consumption rate was not enough to account for my output, they simply had to increase consumption rates through engine and core designs. The clear lack of oversight on this project was abysmal. The chief engineer was a genius; there was no question about it, but his absolute control over the project allowed him to stray far too close to insanity. The look in his eye after the first test where I didn’t hold back my mana could only be described as manic.

“This doesn’t make any sense! Theoretically the four cores should be capable of processing any amount of mana after synchronization. Why can’t you use it right?” 

Not that I don’t enjoy a fireworks show, but I had absolutely no desire to be part of one. Every single time the test failed, and the overly engineered orb suffered a fault from a disparity in even the most refined of components that no in-service military equipment could afford, the doctor fell back to the same damn phrase, ‘theoretically’.

“Dr. von Schugel! This has strayed so far from practical it's not even funny. Even if you somehow managed to get this defective junk to not immediately burst into flame by me, it’s so unstable that I doubt there is any application it could be relied on. Moreover, that success would make it even more useless to the army because of the ridiculous mana demands.”

“Defective junk?! Take that back! Why don’t you understand how revolutionary the technology behind synchronizing four engines is?”          

“I’m perfectly willing to admit it’s revolutionary. That’s why I keep telling you to turn it into something practical.”

“That’s precisely what these tests are for! Aren’t you a soldier, why can’t you follow simple orders!?”

My adherence to rationality was all that was keeping this man alive. Even with my recent bending of my tenets, those were entirely to my benefit. Whatever emotional reward there might be from chucking the effectively magical bomb at the man might be, the consequences were not worth it. It’s impossible to talk to this man. Meritocracy needs to account for interpersonal ability. This fool needed a manager to wrangle in that genius immediately.

“I am an imperial soldier! As an imperial soldier it is my duty to inform you that this project’s path is no longer one that matches the goal established at the outset.”

“A four core operational orb is the goal!”

This was pointless. The safeties worked this time, but next time? How much more waste was the Empire’s military willing to accept? I refused to be another casualty of the mad doctor's ambition. Today. Today I will make sure this project stops here.

IMPERIAL ARMY SUPPLY AND LOGISTICS HEADQUARTERS, TECHNOLOGY DIVISION

The transfer request adhered to the official format. It even included an in-depth cost-benefit analysis report including multiple test reports of the Type 95’s failures as additional data for the unsustainable nature of the project. The managerial staff at the Supply and Logistics headquarters were left holding their heads in frustration. The fact the lieutenant had held on this long compared to the others that had been part of this project was commendable.

“Should we give it to her?”

“Out of the question. She’s the only one even marginally capable of meeting Schugel’s standards.”

“There has been a clear implication from higher ups that her safety was to be considered a significant priority from both Public Relations, Central and the Foreign Affairs department. Placing a war hero, especially one her age into continued danger would be unacceptable.”

“Additionally, considering the report from the lieutenant she seems to conclude that it is unlikely his research will come to fruition at this rate.”

The report was a remarkable display of professionalism in its scathing depiction of the project. It was difficult to believe that a thirteen year old could have written this. In a frustrating juxtaposition the report showed how it had strayed from testing a versatile orb with an admittedly idealistic set of requirements to a highly specialized technical demo. Straying away from the original premise was reason enough to shut the program down but, it was the reason why it had strayed that was so damn frustrating.

“Have you read the report? If she wasn’t a silver wing, I don’t know if I could believe Lieutenant Degurechaff’s analysis. Both she and Schugel acknowledge her ability to meet the device’s mana demands which by all accounts should be an impossible demand. His pivot in the type 95’s design was to show a true proof of concept.”

“Even still her report goes on to state that even when the orb was able to be operated, it was unstable. Even if he is able to make a successful prototype it would be usable by only one mage in the Empire, and even that is doubtful at this stage. The question of practicality has plagued this project from the outset.”

At this point dozens of revolutionary new techniques and design concepts have been implemented into the Type 95, that alone could be considered worth the investment made into the project thus far. The idea that this could be utilized for general military purposes was delusional. They hardly had an unlimited budget, and it quickly became more constricted as the hunger of war consumed materiel and men.

“The whole reason we have agonizingly invested this much thus far is because the Type 95 is too promising to lose! He’s already realized quad-core synchronization. You can’t deny the possibility of mana fixation.”

“We can’t count on perfect synchronization. Lieutenant Degurechaff was the only one thus far to even manage to demonstrate results, and barely. Technological significance aside, the army does not have the budget to pursue this any further because there might be a promise of confirming a legend.”

“Are there any other mages in the Empire that could fill her place?”

“No. Maybe in skill, sure, but in mana capacity? I don’t even know if there is another mage alive that could be her equal.”

“According to his request form, he chose her because she had experienced multiple failures of other orbs, and her age he thought she would approach the orb in a novel way. He also made note that her rumored mana capacity was ideal for testing based on the assumed mana demands of the orb.”

Discussions of dual- or tri-core options were had. Treading already found conclusions on their lack of viability. They simply were not ready for synchronization. They stopped further development. At that point, it was a natural decision. 

KRUSKOS ARMY AIR CORPS TESTING LAB

The sensible minds of the higher ups at the Supply and Logistics Department had listened to reason, and sent an unofficial notification that the development of the Type 95 was being discontinued. Unfortunately, Dr. von Schugel was not a sensible individual and logically, albeit infuriatingly, argued that an unofficial notice meant that the program at this time was still active.

This wasn’t a flight test. The man must have truly gone insane upon hearing the news, insisting that this test was of the utmost importance and could not be delayed despite the abnormally vocal protests of his staff. Protests, I should add, were seemingly absent when he was trying to make me fly with what was effectively a mana based explosive device. That was particularly alarming. The test was originally planned as a final demonstration of the Type 95 after it had successfully performed all pre-established criteria expected of it.

That being utilizing quad-core synchronization to perform “mana fixation”, the fixation of materialized mana phenomena. Magic excelled at temporary manifestations; for example, an explosion, as soon as the phenomena manifests, mana immediately disperses. So, you can fire or even heat, but you cannot make a sustained heat source. The underlying physics of this world must be dizzying. The theory was ‘plausible’ in the same way in my old world where it was theoretically plausible to have nuclear fusion as a sustained power source. It was a testament to the man’s genius that the Type 95, despite the design alterations, remained as compact as an average orb. Unlike the flight tests, the overlapping formulas would condense a significant amount of mana internally, which would make the previous front row seat firework shows seem quaint.

“Lieutenant, you’re ready, right?”

What a delightfully sane question! If only it wasn’t from a clearly deranged individual who at this moment seemed to have embraced their insanity entirely. In a live-fire exercise range far from any people or property, it was only me and the doctor now. The support staff, the rational people they were, had made the decision to perform their observations from as far away as was feasibly possible. As a rational individual myself, if this damned mad man was really so dead set on this test, he should do it himself.

“Doctor, can we please just not do this? According to the calculations the success chance of the orb, even withstanding the mana pressure of so many formulas, is effectively zero. There are easier ways to destroy a prototype, and in the worst case scenario the possible explosive radius is not something either of us could escape from.”

“Scientific progress always has its sacrifices. Naturally, it won’t just be you- I’m here as well. So what’s the problem?” Schugel’s unwavering faith in Tanya to succeed, despite the series of test failures previously, was clearly visible on his overly cheerful visage. If it weren’t for the plan to escape the Empire not yet foolproof, the impulse to smash in his face would have been too tantalizing to resist.

“I’m a soldier, not a sacrificial lamb, doctor.”

I might be working as a soldier now, but selfless sacrifice was not an absolute requirement. If you want to go out in a blaze of glory with your overly ambitious invention, by all means, but at least leave me out of it. Reflexively, I reached for the back up orb, and sure enough it was still gone. Something about ‘avoiding mana resonance’ and ‘avoiding additional mental considerations to ensure absolute concentration’ were the reasons given as to why I could not bring one for this test.

“Then consider it an order. Now, get going.” Following orders was in fact an absolute requirement of being a soldier. As of right now, according to the chain of command, the mad doctor had the final say. Was there really no child protective service I could call, or a labor representative?

“…Supplying mana to Type 95 now.”                                                                                                                                                                 

Even that completely insane battle over Norden felt safer than this. In fact, this situation was causing all my instincts to scream out warnings. At least in the sky I had a defensive shield and a protective film. There were no such protections here. I could feel my face contort into a grimace as against the good doctor's request, I minimized my mana flow as much as possible. Perhaps noticing something was off since the device didn’t immediately explode in a flash of mana, the mad doctor had the audacity to smile reassuringly at me.

“What? No need to worry. This is practically guaranteed to work.”

The man’s face is a picture of innocence and pure devotion seen in only the most deluded of cultists. All the previous internal warning alarms began to redouble their efforts in screaming out just how dangerous this situation had become.

“…Doctor. What makes you so confident?”

“I am the chief engineer. Lieutenant, you are the lead tester. That is to say, if we work together instead of standing at odds, we can do anything. The other day I received a divine revelation.”

To my horror, the mad man’s motions were as if he was pantomiming one of those televangelist pastors, his arm outstretched and his tone unnervingly sincere. As if the man wasn’t already impossible to communicate with, he had now jumped off the deep end. More than anything, a terrible premonition fell over me as I remembered another deeply irrational individual.

“…A divine intervention?” It was taking every bit of mental energy I had to keep the damn thing from overloading as I waged an internal war against the alarm bells.

“That’s right. I am but one of the many grapes of this world but there must be a wine press for the Lord’s wrath to manifest. It was foolishness, genuine foolishness to believe I held any true power. I have been humbled before the Lord, just as you will humble others.”

“…I’m sorry, what?” Really, what else can you say when you hear such mad ramblings? 

Grapes? Wine? Was he quoting Revelations? Did the chief engineer lose his mind over the project getting terminated? That was entirely possible. Quickly deciding that orders delivered by a mentally compromised superior ought to be ignored, I went to activate the safety mechanisms. Except nothing happened. I could see them; they were clearly visible and looked the same as they had during other tests, hell, one of them was clearly recently installed. Were they disabled? The only one who could have done it is the serenely smiling chief standing next to me. I was wrong to call him mad before, that obsession was at least understandable; this was genuine insanity.

“Doctor, aren’t you an atheist?”

“The god of invention came down to me. Now I am a devout believer.”

It was too much. The sheer amount of insanity was enough for my concentration to slip for the briefest of moments and my mana flow thrashed out violently, crashing into the Type 95. The cores overfilled with mana as the many complex formulas began to unravel. At this point, stopping was guaranteed to cause a cascading and cataclysmic failure. Now that the cores were saturated, all I could do was to ensure the flow stays as even as possible to prolong the inevitable conclusion.

“Rejoice, for either success or failure, the world will be reminded why we must be God-fearing.” His embrace of martyrdom in pride with such an insane declaration had firmly cemented him as a lost lunatic.

“We should call for a medic right away. Or would you rather I simply put you out of your misery?” If I was going to die here I was at least ensuring that this mad man doesn’t live to harm any other innocent and good individuals. Hardly a fair deal, but in any market the prevention of future losses while already in the hole often is the only real option.

“Calm yourself, Lieutenant. Have you not met God yourself? If we both trust in God we’ll be saved.”

 Wait what? What? That damned devil? Again?!

“Prior mana levels assumptions have already surpassed expected output far beyond initial calculations!”

“The energy coefficient is rapidly destabilizing! The mana is out of control!”

“This is insane! The cores are about to melt! All personnel evacuate!”

The observation team was shrieking. Their voices became disjointed and unrecognizable as my consciousness faded, and an annoying and familiar warmth encompassed me. When I came to, the first image was a face I would have preferred to have never seen again.

“Hello again, lost one. In an act of divine benevolence, a miracle has been brought unto this world through our Lord’s grace. A miracle just for you.”

The mad scientist was not predisposed to religious fanaticism. He was a victim of either this or another entity’s machinations. That would explain his recent bout of rash actions as despite his obsession with technology, he did not display any typical signs of suicidal intentions.

“I’ll pass on that.”

This Being J? Y. Being Y had some level of social understanding that was lacking in Being X. Still, he was a religious zealot; there was no rationale to be found in going along with whatever he wanted. Kind and sociable fanatics are still fanatics.

“I don’t believe you will. After all, this miracle is only to your benefit. I will ask nothing of you; if anything, consider it an apology for the unintended complications you experienced upon your arrival.”

“How thoughtful. Thank you for your concern but I’ll pass all the same.”  An apologetic gift that is too good to be true? Does he take me for an idiot? True, I never worked in sales but as a corporate employee I was well equipped to know when and how to avoid such an obvious ploy. Corporate politics was built on such deals, and knowing how to turn them down was the only way to stay in the game.

The man in humble robes across from me showed no sign of annoyance or anger; if anything, his expression was if he was a bemused parent trying to coax a child into eating their vegetables.

“Well, we do have the time since your real body is under our protection. I will return this miracle and ensure your safety on two conditions.”

“Which are?”

“Tell me about the family you have found here, and after I explain what the miracle is, you must deny it for a third time. I will accept your conviction even if I do not understand.”

“That’s all?”

“That is all. I have no reason to lie to you, nor desire to. Tanya is your current name, correct? The trials you have faced and will face are unique, but your pains now in the future are not. This is the same for all those who live. Rather, if you are to reject faith in God, I wish to know about those who you have chosen to have faith in his stead.”

“I am a good and rational individual. Believing in a god isn’t necessary.”

“I did not ask what you believe in, but who. Now do you agree?”

Something about the rather flippant dismissal irked me. So, my choices were to have yet another impossible and irrational thing in my life that does who knows what, or have a personal conversation with a religious fanatic and simply say no again. Not exactly ideal choices, but having any was something, I supposed. Being Y really was unlike Being X; if it had been that devil that had shown up I may not have been given any choices in the matter.

“Very well, I agree to your conditions.”

The smile of absolute innocent joy he gave was almost blinding. Thankfully Mormon cultists were absent in Japan, but stories of very polite and kind people going door to door to sell their belief system were infamous. I could almost sympathize now with those who lacked the mental fortitude to set boundaries due to pure social pressure. Part of me worried that this realm had some form of mentally corrupting effects, because considering denying this man’s request, even if I wasn’t at his mercy, felt unduly difficult.

“Where should I start?”

“At the beginning. If you need a more specific topic, I would prefer it to be when you first started to consider those two your family.”

“As a god, shouldn’t you be all knowing? Privacy rights aside, were you watching me?”

“God is all knowing. I am not God, merely a humble son. I do not have all the time to give my full attention to only being at all times either. Consider this an interview, and I am simply learning from the primary source.”

An all-knowing god cannot be good; an omnibenevolent god thus cannot be all knowing, therefore there is no god. These contradictions are the foundation of my reasons as to how I knew god did not exist. I wanted to yell and demand an explanation but alas, a religious fanatic will never provide any satisfying answer. Reigning in my frustrations, I let out a weary sigh.

“It was around the second year in the Empire. Humans, as I’m sure you know, are ever adaptable and the compact confines of our living arrangement alongside shared mental trauma helped establish a mutually beneficial connection. As our false identities required that I play the part of a daughter, it was simply more convenient to lean into the role of a family unit.”

Being Y’s face was one of extreme amusement. He had a wide grin and apparently found my statements humorous. I honestly didn’t particularly care about his opinion, but it was an irritating expression. He leaned in, his posture that of an invested listener, as if he didn’t want to miss a single detail.

“As the years passed, the role was easier to play and in order to ensure a successful future, I made the effort to cultivate my only social connections. After the attack I came to the conclusion that after such a significant investment, I could not afford to abandon such valuable human capital.” Seeing amusement literally twinkle in his eyes I had enough. “What is so funny?”

“Your world view is fascinating. It is not as if you are unaware of your contradictions either. It is not pride that compels you to deny faith either. If it was anyone else, I would say you have an almost religious adherence to your rationality.”

“What contradictions?”

“There is no reason for you to refer to Maria as ‘mom’ or ‘mother’ outside of playing the role of a daughter, correct? Yet even when such scenarios occurred, did you even consider not calling her ‘mom’? ‘Mother’ would have been more socially appropriate, don’t you think?”

“Of course, but this body’s age-”

“Only concerns you when it is a physical detriment. You are not displaying the mannerisms of a young girl, nor do I believe you even could. No, neither of us believes that is why you refer to Maria as ‘mom’.”

Being X could read minds, even if it was a gross breach of privacy, but if Being Y could do the same my internal reasoning was the same…wasn’t it? But before I could try and solve that line of thought he asked another question.

“Why haven’t you left the Empire? You know it is dangerous to stay.”

“It is too dangerous to leave.”

“Not for you.”

“As I said, losing such human capital after all that time invest-”

“Again with your contradictions,” He cut me off again, "Shouldn't you cut your losses now? After all, can you guarantee your investments will ever pay off? Surely at this point you know that it will only become more dangerous.”

“I- Yes. They will.” I don’t know. It could, should- no, I will make it pay off. I felt unbalanced? Wrong?  

“They must be remarkable women then.”

Finally getting a moment to get a hold of myself, I nodded sharply. “They are.”

“Remarkable enough for you to want to protect and defend them with your life.”

“…….”

I wanted to refute such an irrational assertion. Surely it was human nature to prioritize one’s own life over all others. So why couldn’t I? Hadn’t I just argued with those two against making me an absolute priority? I should have said yes. I could have avoided meeting the mad doctor, and in turn avoided this whole situation. Filial piety was one thing, but I had never considered placing my life in danger for my original parents. Fiscal, medical aid and the occasional visit, of course, but becoming a soldier?

“If the Empire continues as it has, it will go to war with the world and it will lose. As a man who was made to be a martyr I have no desire to have another do the same. If you do not take this miracle, Tanya, you might be able to escape the Empire with your mothers, but war will ravage the lands and all who reside in them will suffer. You might live even through that. You are stubborn and clever and will survive, but they will not.”

“Aren’t you gods supposed to do something about this? It was Being X that started this war anyways!”

For the first time since being here the man frowned. “Tanya, humans have never needed divine intervention for war. If we were to prevent all tragedies, stop all sins before they could harm another, address every inequality, we would have to strip humanity of all their freedom. The very thing you hold most dear. For there was a time in which humans knew nothing of strife, hunger, pain or inequality, and that is when they were bound in Eden.”

“What about all your miracles? You clearly intervene.”

“Absolute worship under our direct presence would also limit human freedom. Faith and knowledge are distinct. Miracles are there to revive faith, to remind humans we are here. You are an exception. Mortals are not meant to know, that is why we ask for faith. You know we exist, Tanya. Expecting faith from you is a fool's errand. Yet because you know, I can trust you with miracles. For I knew the Lord and knew of my fate, and yet my faith was unwavering.”

“Just tell me what it is so I can say no and leave.”

“Tanya, I offer you a chance to save the ones you love. Let me be honest: I do not ask anything of you for this miracle. Should you choose to take it, your trials will be many and they will be difficult. However, you are destined to suffer trials with or without it. The Type 95 will be the only orb that you can use fully. You will be a manifestation of the Lord’s wrath. While there is no directive or obligations, your actions with it will bring faith to the world through awe, or fear. So, Tanya, will you deny this miracle a third time?”

“…Will they live if I do?”

“That is up to you. As I have said, I am not all knowing.”

As the overbearing light of mana finally dimmed, the first noise was the whirring of the Type 95 and two individuals in the now empty range. When my eyes finally adjusted, the face of the lunatic doctor contorted into an insane smile of rapture was the first thing to come into focus. I wondered briefly if I could somehow use an explosion formula to hide the success of the test and remove this mad man from this world for the good of everyone.

“We were in the presence of the Lord! It’s a miracle! Blessed are those who believe!! There is no time like the present Lieutenant. Show us the might of the Lord.”

I’m begging you, please shut up. I have had more than enough dealing with religious fanatics for a lifetime. “Please calm down, Chief.” Why am I forced to be a voice of reason? Is it truly that easy for rational and logical individuals to fall so far?

“Degurechaff to Control. Is the Type 95’s control formula functioning normally?”

“It is, as far as I can tell, but that could be due to issues with the observation apparatus. SOP states that if the control formula cannot be confirmed we need to abort any testing and perform lab examinations.”

Caution. Beautiful, merciful caution. An indispensable trait in any engineer. No matter how much Being Y assured me that it wasn't going to drive me mad, seeing how the doctor had turned out was rather concerning. Though perhaps he was just predisposed to madness.

“Bite your tongue! I wrote the SOP. Activate it right this instant, Lieutenant!!”

I hated this cursed orb. For all I knew he could have been lying about everything. But- but if there was a chance that not using this would mean that I would not be able to keep Vera and Mom safe… Fine then. I’ll use your damned cursed object. I needed to know what it could do anyways; if I learned I didn’t need it after all, then I could abandon it without worry.

“…Activating the Type 95.”

For the first time in this life, I felt my mana dip as the four engines synchronized. If this damned thing was nigh impossible for most mages to use before, it was absolutely impossible now.

“Well don’t just stand there. Use it!”

Combat formulae were out of the question. Even if this damn thing worked without issue, I had no idea what its output was now. Really, the only tests I cared about were flight and its protective ability. Leaving the ground, I observed that acceleration was definitely far beyond any current orb, even dwarfing the previous success. The protective film and shell felt sturdy, but that would require some actual testing to discern. I wasn’t going to be breaking the sound barrier, nor did I want to even try. Relying on an untested shell to survive and protect me from the shockwave was absolutely not worth the risk. Even at the height of sixteen thousand meters the oxygen production and heat formulas sustained themselves without issue, all while I was able to keep the flight formula active and stable. In the empty airspace, it was almost peaceful.

“Lieutenant, if you are done frolicking in the skies. Perform an actual test of the Type 95 abilities! They need to see the might of the Lord to understand!”

“Degurechaff to Control. Requesting an airspace warning for spatial detonation.”

“Control, roger."

“Warning all hands to prepare for aerial spatial detonation. Utilize protocols for possible ground failure of mana fixation.”

The wrath of God? I don’t give a damn about that. Survive and keep them alive. If you devils have any regrets about giving this to me, then that’s too damn bad. It’s mine now. Whether the Empire survives or not isn’t my problem.

From the ground Dr. Adelheid von Schugel cackled in rapture as the shockwave of the Lord’s love washed over him with the mana diffused explosion blooming overhead.

AN:

Full disclosure I am posting this without having either of my volunteer editors going over it fully so apologizes for any grammar issues but I didn't want to wait anymore cause it makes me feel stuck. I will 100% be updating this chapter with any of their fixes but I wanted to send this out so I could let my brain work on the next chapter. 

Apologies to Zea and Lincolnator for my impatience and thank you as always for your assistance, and a thank you for reading. Hope you enjoy!

Edit 8/19 - Edited version up! Yatta!

HUMINT- Human intelligence vs SIGINT which is signal intelligence

Lieutenant Colonel Vianto – The flamboyant Republican mage in the manga that really really should have died already.

Grapes of wrath- Revelations 14:14-19 also referenced in the Battle Hymn of the Republic which has the amazing line "As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free," that Tanya would absolutely hate.

SOP- Standard operating procedures.

Three denials- For those of you who do not know Matthew 4:1-11 in which Jesus in the wilderness denies Satan three temptations.

Chapter Text

EN ROUTE TO THE RHINE FRONT

JULY, UNIFIED YEAR 1923

2 nd Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 13

The Republic’s “surprise” attack on the Empire had been painfully successful thus far. So much so that before I could notify Vera and Mom of the emergency orders, I had already been shipped off to fly a solo mission as airborne early warning guard and scout for the forward warning line.

Why was a member of the Training Personnel who was actively participating in equipment testing being sent to the new front?

Because the higher-ups are idiots.

Reserve forces? Mobilized to the north. Only an idiot could say they didn’t see this attack happening. The fact that all contingency plans were designed to defend against this exact scenario had been disregarded under the terrible affliction and desire of victory. Delaying operations in the north? How can you achieve total victory that way? I wanted to cry. All of my reassurances to Vera and Masha were obliterated; and the worst part? It was my own damn fault, because I was also an idiot for involving myself with those damned devils. If the Type 95 had just failed as it was going to I wouldn’t be here.

I gnashed my teeth as that whole event replayed in my head. To think I allowed myself to fall victim to such a simple tactic; one of appealing to emotion. There must have been some mental interference effects in that damned place; there is no other explanation. Persuading people when they’re mentally defenseless? I should have expected such underhanded tactics from beings who are willing to brainwash individuals. The Type 95 project succeeded, and my escape plan was now undone by my own actions. Our escape plan to leave the Empire could still be distilled into liquidating our assets, going to Ildoa and hope our funds lasted long enough to establish a stable life.

Was I an addict now? Abandoning my own internal values over ephemeral emotions of all things? Really, what more could I gain from Vera and Maria? Nothing. Nothing physical, at least. Was it a biological imperative? A lifetime of separating myself from those illogical and irrational bindings, only to be chained in this one? Value. I had let value become ambiguous, and as such sold my own freedom, for what? Hugs? I was well aware that sunken cost fallacy was what that damned Being Y brought up. Children are an investment into one’s future, and conversely parents often become financial burdens under social norms where individuals are expected to make returns on that investment. Family was the oldest institution after all.

Tanya was still a child, and Vera and Maria had spent the majority of her formative years with her. Combine that with traumatic and challenging situations a physiological response could explain why I had become so…irrational. The fact that Being Y had taken advantage of such a weakness could only be described as evil. I am still human but to have my decisions, sense of freedom, and comfort tethered to others was unacceptable. Wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if I hadn’t made a similar decision before. It was because I had allowed myself to be swayed by a devil after becoming so complacent. That was unacceptable. Exceptions and contradictions are not new to me. I knew I wasn’t normal.

Love was inherently irrational, and made every effort to defy rationality and logic. Value judgements made under the effects of love were going to be skewed. I had made a mistake and now I needed to fix it. Allowing myself to willingly accept a deal from Being Y could not be allowed to happen again. Even now, using the Type 95 felt as revolting as being dependent on a cursed object could be because it was a product of being cornered into a Catch-22. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Utilizing other currently available computation orbs were out of the question if I wanted to maximize my chances of survival, and I couldn’t abandon it without cause after showing its success. So…were Mom and Vera worth it?

I don’t know.

What a frustrating conclusion. Maybe I really was an addict. In terms of human capital, I was grossly overvaluing them. Rationally, I knew this. Comparatively, I believe I have a very reasonable evaluation of myself. I knew I was a profitable individual even with my issues with mana; as a mage of noble birth and my experiences from my past life I was certain I could provide significant value both as a member of an organization and of society. There was a significant mental benefit to our relationship…or was that dependence? If it is dependence, then maybe the best approach is to view our connection as a vice. Something to monitor but not necessarily something to cut out entirely.  

There was no reason to deny yourself vices, so long as you indulged in them consciously. Falling into the trap of being beholden to one was a new experience, and one I intend to rectify immediately. Especially knowing that there were those outside of the mortal realm fully willing and able to exploit them to my detriment. Using what I held valuable against me was unforgiveable. They were mine and I was theirs. We would need to renegotiate our relationship when I returned to establish effective boundaries and limit my physiological dependence without dissolving the relationship.

“Hawkeye 03 to Command Post. Please respond.”

The flight from the imperial capital to the front was peaceful, and thankfully long enough to sort out the swirling complex emotions to a point where I could focus on my work. Even if this current job asked for more than what was reasonable for my paygrade.

“…Hawkeye 03 to Command Post. Please respond.”

Radio communications have become plagued with chaos since entering the front. Trying to reach any frontline posts was a challenge. Receiving a response was more luck than anything.

“This is the Seventh Provisional Field Command. Callsign Lizard 08. Reception is poor, but not a problem. Hawkeye 03, send your traffic.”

“Roger, Lizard 08. I can hear you on my end as well. Commencing support mission now.”

A solo mission as a vanguard air unit; I don’t think the brass could have painted a bigger target on my back. Air and magic supremacy over the Rhine was still being contested and every enemy unit would make aerial mages a priority target.

“Thanks, Hawkeye 03. Glad to have you! We’ve been needing another pair of eyes.”

Well, this is unpleasant. Killing the excitement of troops who are sincerely thrilled to finally get decent support was not an enviable position. Just when I finally had cleared away the frustration of one thing, another annoyance appeared.

“Hawkeye 03 to Lizard 08. Sorry to say this after just arriving, but don’t expect much help from me. I’ve picked up a large group approaching fast from up ahead. An approximately company-sized group of mages is rapidly approaching from three o’clock. I’ve also got a battalion-sized ground unit at one o’clock. Multiple unidentified aircraft are also approaching fast.”

Irrational emotions, huh? To think I would be lumped in with the fools who started this damn war. At least I am able to learn from my mistakes. I will not be beholden to something so base as my pride. As a rational individual, I cannot and will not be controlled by them.

“Lizard 08, roger. Take immediate evasive action.”

The real question at this moment was what to do now. I had to use the Type 95 intentionally to ensure it benefited me above those conniving beings. Ascending to eight thousand meters as a preemptive defensive measure, I weighed my options. This wasn’t Norden; I was allowed to retreat this time. Speed data about the Type 95 was known however, so recklessly fleeing before the enemy would do more harm than good. ‘Necessity’, what an awful word. I was as willing to use the Type 95 as I was to take Pervitin at this point.

“It looks like the vanguard mages have spotted me. They’re still coming up fast.”

“Lizard 08 to Hawkeye 03. We’ll send reinforcements immediately.”

“Hawkeye 03 to Lizard 08. I’d appreciate it, but I won’t hold my breath.” The Western theater was just going to be a punching bag until the main force arrived. Receiving reinforcements was unlikely, and after my last experience even if there was any available they weren’t going to arrive soon enough to matter. “Leaving this airspace.”

“Lizard 08, good luck.”

A small defensive action and then retreat. That should be more than enough to satisfy the higher-ups while claiming I was prioritizing Imperial technology rather than my own safety.

“Hawkeye 03, roger.”

  First Lieutenant Michel Hosman

For the 228 th Reconnaissance Mage Company, this was business as usual. As the foremost advanced guard of the Francois army, they had the responsibility of removing the Imperial’s aerial mages out of the sky, blinding them while also disrupting any communications they had the opportunity to. The surprise of their attack was beginning to wear off, but these veterans had been tasked with prolonging their advantage for as long as possible.

“Golf 01 to CP, I’ve encountered an enemy sentinel. Are you also getting these mana readings?”

“CP, roger. We think it’s local direct support. Exercise caution. Upon elimination, continue searching for the enemy’s main force.”

“Golf 01, roger. I can’t tell if he’s cocky or bold with how loud their signal is. Given they climbed up to eight thousand I suppose it could be both…”

It was a smart move. Maneuvering to higher altitude made him a pain to chase for a long distance recon unit. He was also a zippy little bastard, with most of their observations being based just on their signal. It was difficult to tell if his signal was a trap or a lack of skill on his part, but his recent actions made Hosman nervous. The amplitude he was broadcasting on would be exhausting. If it was a scare tactic, it was piss poor one, yelling and flailing in front of the enemy would scare off only idiots who didn’t deserve the title of soldier.

Unlucky bastard.

“Only little kids can get away with crying ‘it’s too high! I can’t reach it!’ Let’s get to work, men!”

Unlucky or not, an enemy mage could not be allowed to escape, nor could Hosman’s company back down just ‘cause he was loud.

“Everybody got that? Okay, Platoon Mike will eliminate the sentinel. Everyone else is conducting recon-in-force with me. We’re gonna bust right through.”

The Empire’s resistance thus far had been quite weak; if the Republic could solidify this thrust there was a real chance at victory. Victory that was riding on the company’s shoulders. All they had to do was disrupt the imperial army for as long as possible.

“Wilco, we’ll catch up with him right quick.”

Eight thousand really was a good idea. Wilco platoon was going to be exhausted climbing at double of combat altitude, and the enemy mage had reduced his enemy's presence to only two platoons. The imperial had his respect for giving their all to defend his nation. Even with his platoon's own priority, Hosman kept an eye on Wilco platoon. They had rapidly climbed to meet the mage, but in a bizarre moment, the distance between them kept growing, only to suddenly stall and shrink as Wilco platoon closed in. Did that mage burn through all his mana already?

zzzZZZVIP

A streaking magic round screamed across the sky. A long range sniping formula? That range was ridiculous.

“Mike 2! Shit!” “Evasive maneuvers! Close distance!” “Engage! Fox 01, Fox 01!” “No hits! How the hell-”

As the radio filled with chatter, the practiced long range return fire from the other three veered wide at this distance. A single shot had taken out a veteran mage, tearing through his defensive film like it was a soap bubble. The mage had circled around, and was now diving on the platoon. Could a mage even move that fast? Was it recklessness or arrogance? The safest option would’ve been escape or fire off more long range formulas, which he clearly could have. Even if he was fast, disrupting a platoon in close quarters combat without support was a fool’s errand. Coordination would prevent him from closing in with any single mage without risking taking a shot from another mage. His trajectory was also insultingly a straight line and Hosman’s men were ready and waiting.

“Three rounds of interlocking fire! Get your formulas ready! Nail’em! Fox 02! Fox 02!”

Textbook ideal coordination and refined training had honed these men into veterans. Even a named mage in the Empire couldn’t be expected to hold off more than two of his own. Yet in a sickening display of disjointed maneuvers, instead of engulfing the imperial, the explosive formulae bloomed behind him. The platoon, true to their training despite their shock, began dispersing to avoid the still rushing mage, only for the distance between them to vanish.

“Mike 3! Check six! Check six! Ahh, damn it!”

The man had no time to even respond to Hosman’s desperate warnings before the mage flew by him, leaving him in two pieces falling from the sky. Mike platoon was all but wiped out now, what with two down and 4’s core stalling and joining his split comrade in free fall. Mike 1 was not in any better shape despite staying in the skies; at that altitude, his computation orb was probably just barely holding on.

“Shit, Bravo, Gulf turn back! Turn back! We have to cover Mike!”

zzZZZZVIP KRACK-BOOM

A blinding flash filled the sky where Gulf platoon once was. A monster . The Empire had been hiding a monster. Every action from this damn mage so far fell outside of the Republic’s current knowledge on Imperial Aerial mage capabilities. Even their named were supposed to be specialized in hit and run tactics.

 Lord protect us from these devils.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We’ve encountered a new type of enemy! Shit! Golf 01 to CP, this is an emergency! Tally one unknown Named! Requesting reinforcements and permission to RTB!”

As if to mock them, the mage stayed at his insane altitude and waited for their retreat before his signal began retreating towards the Empire. We were spared? Why? A single mage had reduced their numbers in half and there was no way they could face him. If there was any silver lining, it was thathis obnoxious signal would be a clear warning alarm. Even as they retreated, he could still clearly make it out.

IMPERIAL CAPITAL

2 nd Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

“Reassignment?”

Freedom from that mad scientist, finally! Oops, restrain yourself, me. 

Following that rather unwelcome excursion into the Rhine front, apparently the research department had admitted to the leadership that the Type 95 was an event that could not be replicated. Even if the results had been outstanding, the army could not afford to chase after one of a kind pieces of equipment for specific individuals. Finally, I could take up the position I was supposed to be in to begin with as a training instructor in the rear. Because of how hectic everything had been, it was nice to have some good news to share with Mom and Vera.

“Yes, a reassignment. Guess the brass isn’t about to let an ace just hang around. You’re going to be the leader of Third Platoon in the 205 th Assault Mage Company.”

What? I knew things were bad, but being sent straight to the front lines already? Cannibalizing instructor personnel at this point showed just how little resources the Empire had in reserve. Getting subordinates was a poor consolation prize; if anything, it felt like a punishment. It made vanishing all that more difficult now that the brass was expecting me to lead others. What a shitshow.

“And congratulations, Lieutenant. It’s not much compared to the Silver Wings,, but in recognition of your recent achievements, we have decided to award you with the Aerial Assault Badge.”

“...Thank you, sir.” Doing my best to remain professional, I gave a perfect salute. If I was planning on pursuing a military career, this would have been great news. Instead, it was more attention. I even let half of the enemy company escape! If I knew they were going to be this impressed I would’ve called it quits after that first long range formula.

 “Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?”

“May I speak freely sir?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Sir, I know the nature of this assignment requires me to take up my position as quickly as possible, but could I have permission to inform my mother briefly before I depart?”

The look on the elder Personnel commander's face was a mix of pity and shock at my request. A decorated soldier who just left the frontlines asking to see their mother must be quite an odd sight, especially a recipient of the Silver Wings. If it wasn’t for my age- or Tanya’s age, I wouldn’t have even considered asking for such a thing, but I’m hoping it will blunt any damage to my reputation. Honestly, as humiliating as it would be to be perceived as a simple child, that might be to my benefit at this point.

“I understand, Lieutenant. As dire as things might seem, the Empire isn’t going to collapse just because an ace is slightly delayed to the Rhine front. It’s good to see that even a Silver Wings bearer thinks of their parents during such a time as this.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing, just the musing of an old man. While I cannot approve any leave, so long as you arrive at your post today you are free to make any detours you see fit. Your military record has been nothing but exemplary thus far. I see no reason to doubt you.”

“Thank you sir!” Saluting once more this time with a genuine smile.

Leaving the office safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t have an MP on my tail, I set off for my temporary dorm, quickly packed my meager belongings and went through the military bureaucracy of changing posts. Thanking the dorm manager, I take advantage of the fact that my orders authorize flight over the capital as well as over the Air Defense Identification zone. While my current speed was technically within the range of the Empire’s current computation orb, I am pushing it. I have no desire to go to the frontline, but with how tense the Empire is right now, there is no way I can quietly leave without someone looking for me. Still, the frontline seemed almost appealing compared to having to inform Mom about my assignment.

There was that word again. Mom. Was it really healthy for me to use such a word? Going back to Masha, however, could cause her unnecessary concern. Ugh. There wasn’t enough time to go over everything I wanted to with them. Landing in front of the building, I hurried in to avoid the stares of awe and shock from the wandering civilians. Every second counted and I knew they were going to be as unhappy at the news as I am. I had my own key since my ‘birthday’ so there was no need to knock and wait. At this time Vera was probably still at work. I would need to write to her as soon as I could. Unlocking the door and entering into the apartment, I found myself missing the comforts of modern technology wishing I could have phoned ahead.

“Mom?” I called out hoping she was here; otherwise this was not only a pointless trouble but an incredibly disappointing one also.

The lights in the apartment were out, so maybe she was sleeping? I flick on the lights in the foyer and living room looking over the new items and books that litter the area.

“I won’t let you take her!” An absolutely baffling scream rang out from the direction of the master bedroom, causing me to jump in alarm.

BANG

BANG

My defensive shell flares instinctively as two rounds flatten against them and clatter to the floor like loose change. What? Dressed in loose sleep wear with bedraggled hair was Masha with a pistol leveled at me. Her eyes were unfocused with an expression of frightened fury and there was no recognition of who I was in her face. The memory of my flight in Norden and that panic attack flared in my mind. As her eyes cleared of the fear and anger, her expression morphed into absolute confusion and then abject horror as realization dawned on her. The clatter of metal on wood resounded as she dropped the pistol as if it had burned her.

A mess of disjointed and desperate stammering leaves her lips. “Tanya, I- I wouldn’t- I couldn’t, I would never- you- you know I wouldn’t.” It was genuinely painful to see just how much fear was in her eyes. She shot at me. I should be furious, or at least feel some level of betrayal but instead the only emotion I felt was worry.  

My mind was racing, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Before I could actually make any concrete conclusions, a knock sounded from the front door. Oh yeah, gunfire isn’t a common sound in the rear. One thing at a time, I suppose. I take in a deep exhale and force the Type 95 to spin down from its sudden activation.

“Mom, could you please make us some coffee?”

“I- What?”

“Coffee. Please,” something simple to focus on besides this sudden mess.

The non sequitur seems to jump her out of the emotional spiral for a moment before she nodded numbly and made her way to the kitchen. Now to deal with the concerned neighbors. After a quick once over, I went to the door and opened to it an unfamiliar face. A distinguished looking gentleman, probably in his mid 40’s, who clearly was not expecting me to answer the door. Behind him there was a quickly growing crowd of individuals who seemed to be waiting for the signal for the return to normalcy or to run.

“What in God’s name is going on in there?”

“Apologies for the commotion, everyone. My computation orb had a minor malfunction, and the mana release was much louder than intended. There should be no further disturbances.” I explained, answering loud enough to be heard by the others. Thankfully, common knowledge of computation orbs was spotty at best, so the idea of one producing a sound similar to a gunshot probably wasn’t too far of a stretch.

“Well, do you mind if I speak with your parents?”

“I do,” I told him and promptly closed the door. I did not have time to deal with lecturing from a concerned citizen. Now that they knew that there was no immediate danger, the majority were likely to return to their normal routines. Humans are remarkably adaptable creatures that when given permission to ignore disturbances, the majority will gladly do so. Even if the man outside the door decides to be persistent, breaking into an apartment after being assured there was no danger was a leap too far for many.

Now on to more pressing issues. I went and retrieved the forgotten pistol off the floor and stuffed it in my duffel bag. Assuming it used the standard military issued ammo, there was no issue with bringing my own side arm to the front. Returning to the living room with a tray holding two cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits, Mom walked in with a dazed expression before setting it down on the table. Taking a cup and a biscuit, we sit in almost silence, ignoring the slowly weakening knocks on the door.

Deciding to be the proactive individual I ventured a guess: “Has something like this happened before?”

“Yes. Nothing ever this bad. Vera… She says I have been sleepwalking lately. Occasionally I find myself in rooms not remembering what I was doing and there are occasional fainting spells. Tanya I’m so so-”

Holding up my hand I cut off her apology. Neurological disorder possibly? Was it early Alzheimer’s or something else? Post traumatic stress disorder? Too many variables and I was hardly an expert to try to narrow down any one answer. It was both relieving and nauseating to know it hadn’t been a conscious action.

“How long have you had these episodes?”

“...Tanya, it wasn’t something we thought you needed to worry about.” It was as if our roles were reversed and I was the concerned parent. I didn’t even blame her for not willingly speaking about mental issues in this time period. Still, if I had known, I could have worked around it or even helped find a solution. If I was going to renegotiate our partnership, I needed to be aware of all potential pitfalls. What if it had been Vera instead?

“How long.”

“…Since the attack. They came with the migraines. It’s the reason I’ve had to stay home. They are at their worst at night, or as you now know, during unexpected events. Vera and I have a ‘system’ for dealing with it…”

Shaking that particularly dreadful thought from my head, I put down my cup and hugged her.  “You are forgiven. I am fine and nobody got hurt. Though I am going to have to demand that you and Vera make an effort to keep firearms away from you in the future. For yours and Vera’s safety.”

“I… can agree to that. Tanya, what prompted this surprise visit?”

Shit. Now it was my turn to be reticent, “I received a…reassignment. I am to arrive at the Rhine front as a platoon leader effective immediately. Unfortunately, my orders do not allow for much delay, but I was given permission to inform you. I…didn’t want for to you learn about it through a letter.”

“You can’t! Tanya that’s-” Really it is quite rude how much I am interrupting her, but time is not on my side.

“Thank you for caring, truly. I wish you had told me about… ‘this’ earlier. Nothing about our plans that you both have shared with me have anything to account for the possible issues that will come up because of your…condition. I came here to not only inform you of my reassignment but also because I want to renegotiate our partnership.” 

“Renegotiate? I- What?”

“I am different, I know this, and it does not bother me to say so. There are actions and decisions that many others make that I simply cannot comprehend. Our relationship has escaped past what I believe is reasonable. Therefore, I want us to come to a mutual understanding when it comes to future decisions that affect us all.”

Despite the very visible confusion on her face, she simply waited for me to continue. This reaffirmed my assumption that a continued partnership with her was a worthwhile investment. Finding individuals who will take me seriously at my current age is going to be a challenge to say the least. Our prolonged time together meant that even if she doesn’t initially understand my actions or thinking, she makes an effort to understand rather than outright rejection.

“I…like calling you Mom. The mental and emotional comfort provided in our relationship is valuable to me. I also owe both you and Vera for your investment in raising me and keeping me safe. This is why I am hesitant to partake in any endeavor that will negatively impact your lives solely for my benefit as the current propositions have costs that far outweigh the pros. Having said that, on principle I cannot allow myself to be beholden to my emotions. The value of our partnership is significant enough to me that I am willing to take significant risks to preserve it. Because of this, I need the two of you to be willing to work with me instead of working around me.”

Mom seemed to mull my proposition over for a moment, seeming thankful for a different topic, though I imagined this was not a conversation she was expecting. This wasn’t the first time I had brought up this topic but at the time I was entirely too dependent to have any actual negotiating power, so it was shelved.

“Okay, let's start simple. Tanya, I love that you are my daughter, and I am honored that you think of me in such a way. Even if you are ‘different’, as you say. You certainly are nothing like any child or adult I have ever known, but you have made my life wonderfully interesting. Vera and I believe we owe you a debt as well. If you had not been born we may never have left Rus. Similarly, we owe Maria a debt as well for giving her own life to allow us the chance to actually escape. So long as I live, I will feel burdened by guilt for stepping into her place. Does this help you understand why we, and myself especially, are so willing to, as you say, accept ‘negative impacts’ to our lives for your benefit?”

“That’s… understandable, though I won’t say I entirely agree with your conclusions.” Guilt? Maria and Mom were entirely different in my mind with how they evaluated me. Maria and Grigori had ambitions or perhaps some misplaced sense of duty because of my blood, and there was an expectation of return. Not that I disagreed with such an outlook, in fact, it was almost preferable to the strange nebulous value method I now had to wrangle. Still, there was no way that Maria could ever value me over what I represented.

“If we understand each other then, my proposal is simple. I want an equal voice in our future, not merely as your charge, but as a partner.”

“Tanya, we understand that you are frighteningly brilliant, but you are still a child. Precocious nature aside, it is the duty of adults to make sacrifices for the future.”

“If we are going to make arguments on the foundations of duty, then as an Imperial soldier it is my duty to ensure that the Empire's citizens are kept safe. That now includes you and Vera. I am painfully aware of my age, but I assure you that my input, as you well know, will not be remotely equivalent to that of a child . I am not asking to have carte blanche control over our future, but that the two of you will take my suggestions with the weight I believe it deserves.”

She gave a rueful, if fond chuckle. “How much more do you plan on upending our world?”

“If ‘your’ world requires you to sacrifice yourself for such pitiful gains, as much as I need to. I promise it will be to our mutual benefit knowing that you two won’t make any rash actions under the justification that I am simply a child. There is no reason to leave our future to random chance.”

“Says the child blessed by the Lord.”

“The only blessing I have are you two. Everything else that could be attributed to a god are better described as curses. In my entire life, the only thing I have found worth relying on are humans.” Glancing at the clock, my time was up. I don’t even know if I said everything I wanted to, but I believe I got through to her. “Mom, please stay safe, I have to go. I promise I will return unharmed.”

As I hurriedly gathered my things and went to head out I heard her cry out “Tanya, wait!”  

“Yes?”

A fierce hug made awkward by the bulk of the duffle bag encompassed me. “I love you, and I will always love you.”

Even if it wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, I returned the hug as best I could and muttered a response. 

“Love you too.”

Vices, after all, should be enjoyed when appropriate.

CADET CORPS DORMITORY

Corporal Viktorya Ivanovna Serebryakova

Life was obscenely unfair; I had learned this very early on. So why does God feel the need to remind me so often? Cadet- err, Corporal Serebryakov , not Serebryakova as the Empire’s military standards do not consider traditional Russy naming conventions. I wonder if I can tease my dad about being the son he never had when I get back without him getting too upset. In the ungodly morning hours, my newest and best friend Elya has woken me up looking as effortlessly beautiful as always.

“Visha! Get up, Visha!”

“M’up. I’m up…Good morning, Elya.”

It really is unfair that someone can go to bed after you and wake up with more energy. If she wasn’t such a good friend, envy might have made me hate the lovely girl. Despite that I was just a conscript amongst the majority of volunteers and a non-natural-born citizen, Elya saw none of that. Moreover, as women we were a minority in the army with the majority in either medical, mages, or a mix of both. Honestly, while we were clearly wanted I wouldn’t say we were welcomed.

It all felt unreal. I was a soldier now, at least according to the Empire. As terrifying as the drill sergeants were, even in their most intimidating moments a pair of red eyes would flash in my memory, and I would find myself less afraid. The food even grew to be tolerable, almost enjoyable after a while, even if it made me cry at first. This was our last week together and I knew I was going to miss Elya dearly.

“What would your precious Tanya say if she could see you stuffing your face like that, Visha?”

Maybe I wouldn’t miss her that much. In an innocuous round of shared gossip, the topic of friends back home came up and I made the mistake of bringing up Tanya while trying to fit in. Since then, Erya had latched on to using her to tease me, especially since neither her nor the other girls believed she actually existed. I don’t blame them, really. If I hadn’t met her I wouldn’t believe she was real either.  

“She would be happy to see me healthy. Now, if you don’t join me soon your toast is forfeit,” I replied, pouting after taking another bite of slightly stale toast and not quite sweet jam.  

“Oh! Visha, did you hear that the platoon you’re assigned to is getting a new leader?”

“Aren’t we reinforcements? Why would they make a new platoon on the front lines?” My meal was becoming tasteless as the stress of my new assignment loomed over me.

“Logically, no, but this has to be true, Visha. I heard personnel officers talking about it!”

My friend's ears were too sharp for her own good. Thankfully she didn’t use her talents maliciously…I think. Actually, how did she find out about my assignment? It wasn’t as if there was a noticeboard or public gathering of personnel officers openly discussing them.

“Elya, are you sure you aren’t a ninja?”

“Ha-ha! A woman has her secrets, Miss Serebryakova.”

“Do you know where this new platoon is? Please say Norden, I hear the fighting has stalled there…”

The look of pity on her face was answer enough. Honestly, I should’ve expected as much, but still. “It’s not a new platoon but a replacement for one… on the Rhine. You’ll be okay, though. Supposedly the leader is a veteran with Silver Wings.”

“Silver wings…? You mean the Silver Wings Assault Badge?!”

The brief history lesson during basic covered the legendary medal. There were less than a dozen soldiers to have ever earned them and still be capable of serving after the fact. The vast majority of recipients were post-mortem, and the lucky survivors were often so terribly wounded that they could no longer serve.

“Wow, your eyes are like saucers.”

“What?!”

“Visha, your faces are always so funny.” Elya was making every effort to not burst out laughing at my expression. She had a habit of trying to draw out reactions from me for her own amusement. At least one of us was having fun.

“You must know about your own assignments, right?”

“Yup, I’ll be supporting the artillery as part of an observation squad. Of course, I’ll be making tea in the back!”

“Hey… you should still be careful, you never know what’ll happen.”

“Uh-oh, if we keep wasting time we’ll get kicked out. Chow down, Visha!”

“Oh…Hey, where’d my caramel go?”

“Recompense for threatening my toast. All is fair in love and war, Visha.”

Lord, I know I am not the most pious person, but please keep my mischievous friend safe.

RHINE FRONT 205 th MAGE COMPANY REAR BASE

First Lieutenant Schwarzkopf was less than impressed by the ‘reinforcements’ he had been sent. Looking over the paperwork, it told about a depressing list of freshly minted cadets straight out of the academy. If there was any consolation, supposedly a mage from the instructor unit with the Silver Wings was going to be joining them. This line of thinking had set the man up for disappointment as a young girl entered into the command tent.

“Magic Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff, leader of Third Platoon of the 205 th Assault Mage Company, reporting for duty.”

“Thanks for coming, Lieutenant. First, allow me to welcome you. I am the company commander, First Lieutenant Ihlen Schwarzkopf.”

“Commander Schwarzkopf, sir, pleased to be serving under you.”

His first impression of the Lieutenant was that despite her appearance she certainly carried herself like a veteran, even her salute was textbook. Those eyes were probably frightening to the average civilian but as a soldier, besides the hue, he thought it held a comfortably familiar stare. Conversely, Tanya’s observations were that the man’s medals from previous conflicts and composure were signs of a competent leader. Both of them hold a tentative hope that the other will be useful.

“Great. Let’s get to it, Lieutenant Degurechaff. Do you have any experience leading a platoon?”

“This will be my first time, sir.”

“…Lieutenant, I’ll be frank. Can you command a platoon of recruits straight out of the Cadet Corps?”

As much as Tanya wanted to deny such a difficult request, the new situation at home required her to play the role of soldier just a bit longer. As such, the facade of a patriotic and dutiful soldier must go on. “Please give me the order. I will give you results,” She replied, internally lamenting the fact that she had been cursed with expectations brought by the Silver Wings while trying to simply survive.

“Well, you’ve got the Silver Wings Assault Badge. I’m expecting a lot out of you!”

“Yes sir!”

As for discussing the state of the Western front? It was, in short, a mess. Delayed reinforcements, transitions to mobile defense, and the logistical nightmare of reorganizing an army after it abandoned its own internal doctrine. They were effectively sacrificial lambs until the Great Army was able to regroup and employ a counterattack. Spouting patriotic retorts to the dismal situation was all Tanya could do. Mobile defense was at least safer than being a static target in a pillbox.

“Great. Any questions?”

“Yes, sir. Will we be sortieng out from the defensive line or the rear?”

“Rejoice, Lieutenant. We’ll be on the forward-most line.”

“What an honor.” Perhaps she had laid it on a little too thick. All of the hopeful benefits of mobile defense had been thoroughly dashed by that new information. Honestly, this whole scenario was painfully miserable.

“Well, there is no cheerful way to fight a war. Here’s who is in your platoon.”

“Thank you sir.” This really was the worst. Rookies? They weren’t even hatched trainees.
As if the mental shock at the dismal hand she had just been given wasn’t enough, the sight of a familiar name had stunned her thoroughly.

“Lieutenant? Is there something wrong?”

What the hell are you doing here, Visha?

“Ah… Sorry, sir. Were there any possible clerical errors in this paperwork?”

“Lieutenant, I understand that for your first platoon they are inexperienced, but there shouldn’t be any clerical issues that I am aware of. Why do you ask?”

“I recognized one of the names, however the spelling appeared off. Never mind, it's unimportant. Inexperienced is an understatement. Perhaps we should call them untrained recruits.”

“I see no problem with that. This means your platoon will be extremely rough around the edges. I want you to make defending the position your main duty.”

Reeducation and training on the front lines? Perhaps that was better than being made into a work horse while being tied down to dead weight. At least it would be if they were in the rear; instead it’s an annoying request while being an easy target.

“Are we permitted to abandon our positions if need be?”

“Regrettably, we can’t pull the lines back any further. Command says we can choose victory or Valhalla.”

Easy for the higher ups to say hundreds of miles away from the war. Bastards, if you had just done your jobs as you had planned there would be no need for such an insane suggestion. Dying for others was still an abhorrent concept, especially for strangers. I can even say that having experienced it personally, having someone die for my behalf is still greatly unpleasant.

“Splendid. Both options sound great.”

“Fantastic. Then I’ll introduce you to your platoon.”

Viktorya Ivanova Serebryakova

For someone who was so striking, I almost didn’t recognize her at first. If it hadn’t been for those scarlet irises, I might have even assumed she had a twin. Tanya rarely smiled, so it wasn’t as if her current expression was a new one, but what was new was the air of battle that hung around her. Those once piercing eyes now seemed to hold a perpetually predatory gaze. I felt like I was a little girl again, sitting across from a possible upyr. Standing half the height of Lieutenant Schwarzkopf, it was kind of amazing how her presence seemed to make him look kind in comparison.

She had actually grown taller since I had last seen her. Not a substantial amount, but it was still incongruent with my memory of her. I had so many burning questions I wanted to ask, but her no nonsense militaristic attitude kept me from blurting them out. In a clipped and direct order, she asked us to state our rank, name and where we last served. I felt my stomach plummet at the idea that I might disappoint her by being a simple conscript. Had she volunteered?

“Corporal Kurst von Walhorf from Idal-Stein Battalion C, First Company!”

“Corporal Herald von Vist, also from Idal-Stein Battalion C, First Company!”

“Corporal Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov from Idal-Stein Battalion D, Third Company.”

“Not Serebryakova?” The look of bemused confusion she leveled at me felt like she was a cat playing with a mouse.

Having her sole attention made me want to hide. “No ma’am, Imperial Army Standards state that only the father’s surname is to be used for identification.”

I don’t know what I expected but a smile was not one of them. “You have my respect for fulfilling your obligations, Corporal Viktorya Ivanovna Serebryakov. It’ll be tough, but do your best to survive.” In the same way she always had in the past, her next act baffled me: admonishing, almost berating the other two for volunteering, which stunned all of us.       

“If you’re too inept to survive the consequences of your actions, then die.”

After kicking us out of the command tent we went about setting up our barracks. As her fight partner we had a shared tent. The walk to our lodgings was… awkward to say the least with the other two cadets ignoring me.

“Who the hell does that brat think she is?!”

“Harald, keep your voice down. She is still our superior even if she is a child. As her elders we have to set a good example. Maybe she earned her Silver Wings by saving a volunteer? After she sees just how good we are I’m sure she’ll turn her tone around.”

“Whatever. Hey, you. What is the deal with you two?”

“Me?”

“No, I was talking to Kurst. Of course you! Why didn’t she rip you a new one?”

“Oh. I-I don’t know.” It was like I never left the dorm. There was a rather large divide between conscripts and volunteers. Most of them were rather kind, but there were many like Harald that held conscripts like me in disdain.

“Hey Kurst, maybe she reminds her of her mommy.”

“Stop that.” If only for your own health.

“Or what? Are you going to stop me? You’re barely even a soldier, let alone a citizen. Remember just because the Empire is desperate now, doesn’t mean it will always be. Your place isn’t here.”

With that particularly stinging remark, we parted ways. I was so tired of everything. This sucks. I just wanted to sleep, but the moment my gear hit the cot the tent flap flew open and in walked my new platoon leader. On reflex I popped to attention and gave a salute.

“Yes, ma’am?!”

“At ease, Corporal. As an aside, while we are alone I am giving permission to relax, Visha. However, if you slip up outside of this tent, that privilege will be revoked immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. Tanya…?” The devil may care grin I received made me tense up for a moment.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Chapter Text

Anna Anderson

Though Commonwealth tradition necessitated a level of decorum amongst the gentlemen of the Intelligence Department, one could hardly call the place quiet. Today, however, the intermittent conversations and chuckles at gallows humor were hushed, as a maelstrom of fury in the form of a petite woman marched to their bosses office with a seething anger that only the insane or suicidal would dare challenge. The Intelligence Department of the Commonwealth was tied for being the most egalitarian of military organizations next to the Magic Department, which was the only reason that a woman wasn't immediately stopped upon entering. It helped that this particular woman was a well-respected up and coming field agent which went hand in hand with fear in this line of work.

Anyone who felt comfortable enough to slam open and close the doors of General Habergram's office was someone to be avoided.

"THEY DID WHAT?!"

Upon hearing that roar, the gentlemen of the Intelligence Department decided now would be an excellent time to take a tea break at the local café. Ambition to learn all you could was understandable, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.

"Ah, good afternoon Ms. Anderson. I see the boat ride over must have been comfortable, as you seem to be in high spirits. Would you like a cup of tea?" Marriage, and a conscious career decision to pursue Intelligence as a career had provided General Habergram a multitude of tools to circumnavigate the minefield that was a conversation with an angered woman.

"I would like to know why in God's name those froggy bastards decided to declare war." I wanted to throttle the man; it had been everything but comfortable as the earliest ship out and to arrive was a coal shuttle. Turns out learning that the nation I was just in had decided to declare war with the Empire without a justified casus belli while your long-lost sister was serving as an imperial aerial mage was quite a jolt.

"I didn't take you for an Imperial sympathizer, Anna, nor one for Francios. So, could we skip to the part where you tell me what exactly has you so upset? Mrs. Pack said you had something for me as well?"

Times like this were when I was most grateful for my training, a younger, stupider me would have continued throwing a tantrum and thrown the folder on his desk like a petulant child. Instead, I had the wherewithal to simply hand over the documents Amy and I had written up and correlated without any theatrics I desperately wanted to indulge in.

"I have a sister."

"Yes, I know. You have three in fact."  Fucking Albion men were somehow biologically programmed to responded with sarcasm.

"No, General Habergram. I have four." His reaction of restrained shock was at least cathartic to see. Honestly, part of the reason I believed the man had even agreed to my employment was that I was one of the few who managed to get such reactions out of him. "I'll give you a minute to go over the documents before I continue."

The man grumbled before pulling out and lighting a cigar before skimming over the documents. As he did, his expression shifted from general annoyance to a reserved level of frustration; or at least reserved to outsiders, to me it looked as if he was beginning to understand why I was in such a mood.

"Why didn't you tell me about her before?"

"Why didn't Mr. Constantine? General, neither of us enjoy wasting time. Until Amy had informed me of her there was no way I could be even remotely certain she was alive. Informing you without any further information would have just been a waste of both of our time. Now could you please tell me why the Francois Republic felt so confident to declare war on the Empire? After all, the Entente Alliance was the first to break the Treaty of Londinium."

"If the Imperial Army had held to their public statement of defensive action rather than mobilizing their entire army north, politically, you would be correct. This is outside of either of our realms of responsibility; there are national concerns about the Empire attempting an expansionist policy under the guise of defensive action."

"That's absurd! Do we have any evidence to suggest that is their plan or is this just rampant paranoia?"

"I cannot nor would I want to speak for the politicians of Francios Republic. You asked why, and I am telling you what I know. There is a reasonable expectation that the Republic will be able to land a sizable blow against the Empire, alongside a hope that we will be able to mediate peace as well as restitutio in integrum."

"Even though the Republic declared war on the Empire unilaterally? Do you really think the Empire will take such a deal? Moreover, will the Republic be able to actually force the Empire into such talks?"

"Alone? Absolutely not. However, the Empire's political standing has left them with little to no actual allies and several would be enemies. Regardless of how foolish their decisions might appear, it is not an immediate concern for the Commonwealth. Having said that, do you believe the Empire is aware of your sister?"

"No, or at least I don't believe they have made any conclusions yet. As militaristic as the Empire is, sending a possible foreign princess, even of a dead empire, to the frontlines as a lieutenant doesn't line up with their aristocratic policy. If she was a known noble she should be in the royal guard unit or a palace unit not an artillery observer. Unless, my darling sister demanded such a position, which if she is anything like how I knew from before seems incredibly unlikely."

"Hmph. Your sister's intelligence notwithstanding, the Empire's administration and aristocracy are not stupid, detached perhaps, but not stupid. I would even make a solid wager that they are in the same position we are now in." His face screwed up in a mix of concentration and consternation.

"Which is?"

"Deciding if she is worth the gamble. At least we have confirmation about her lineage while the Imperial aristocracy is running mostly blind. Her military accomplishments could be seen as a test of worth. If she is successful and comes out unscathed she'll no doubt be swarmed by ambitious and parasitic sponsors. So, if we are planning on trying to take her first it won't go unnoticed. The question is 'Is she worth it?' I imagine I know what your answer is to that question."

"Of course, I helped compile a persuasive and detailed document and rode a coal ship just to see your miserable mug and tell you no." I snapped my fingers as if I just recalled something of great import. "I should've led with sarcasm, after all it is your birth tongue. My apologies General, it seems my time in the Republic had dulled my tongue."

"You can cut the sass Ms. Anderson. This proposal isn't as simple as you make it out to be. The Commonwealth may have a vested interest in recovering your lost sister, however public scrutiny will expose you and your other sisters after years of painstaking effort to hide you all. Questions about why we hid you at all can easily be twisted into a national embarrassment. We cannot have the world thinking, however foolishly, that we hid you because we feared the Federation or the Empire. Nor can we afford to burn our tenuous neutrality with them while the Empire grows in strength. So, I am going to need more than just a sisterly bond to convince the higher ups that this is worth the effort."

"General, tell me what you need, and I will get it. I have spent years searching for her, but more that I genuinely believe that the Commonwealth cannot afford to ignore her."

"Numbers, concrete figures, something I can sell beyond just her blood. She's obviously a powerful mage and that helps, but if we can show just how powerful all the better. In a way we are in the same damn position as the Imperials, waiting on her to prove herself. Hell, if you can get me proof that they want her that may be enough. Snubbing Imperial aristocracy is an easy sell, after all." The general raised his hands preemptively. "I know that isn't what you want to hear, I know you well enough that if I leave the conversation here, you might run off and do something stupid. As such, I am reassigning you. You are to enter the Empire and gather as much information as you can to support your proposal. You are authorized to make contact, but do not let her know you are working for us."

I saluted with a grin so bright that it hurt my face. "I won't let you down, sir!"

"You better pray to God she's worth it, Anna."

"I don't need to pray, I know."

Corporal Viktorya Ivanovna Serebryakova

"Visha, while we are here you may come to hate me, but know this: if you do exactly what I tell you to and stay near me, I swear to you that you will go home alive and whole."

Her words echoed in my head for the dozenth time, as we flew over what can only be described as hell on earth. A sea of mud formed by the blood of young men as metal screamed and exploded beneath me. I had learned over the last two weeks that the long training I had endured was in fact 'accelerated'. To Tanya's standards, it wasn't even worth mentioning and she had taken it upon herself to bring not only me, but the other two of us up to a level she deemed adequate. While I believed her wholeheartedly, Corporal Vist and Walhorf did not, and ignored her orders at random. Well, not exactly at random, they had their reasons, but they were rather…

 "It was cowardly."

 "We could have saved more."

 "We are soldiers, not birds, we can't just stand by and watch."

To my surprise, Tanya was rather calm about their blatant insubordination at first. She yelled at them of course, but I worried she was going to shoot them out of the sky the first time they ignored her. Instead, her attention seemed to be on me, telling me where I needed to fly, how high, what to aim at and adjustments to my formulas. The most miserable objective we were given thus far was to clear out a trench on the forward line before the infantry arrived because their charge couldn't cover the full line.

"Killing is terrible, Visha. Do not mistake my ability with willingness. I know it might not be of great comfort, but take this to heart: it is not personal. These men are willing to kill you because it is their job, and you must do the same. You do not have to want to kill them; in fact, it is because I know you are a good person that I hope you never do. It is good that war is terrible, lest men become too fond of it."

Even with Tanya's words, it sure felt personal when the Francios soldiers ran at you bayonets first. Tanya even had to save me when I froze up the first time and the image of her splitting a man in half with a mage blade was probably going to be burned into my mind forever. That was also the same day I learned just how versatile a shovel can be. It didn't get easier, but firing explosive formulae from the sky was at least a tolerable level of horror. Today we were acting as a delaying force, providing aerial harassment and attritional operations. This boiled down to watching the enemy's artillery fire terribly close to us as we intermittently blunted infantry charges with explosive formulae.

It wasn't overly difficult, but it was incredibly taxing mentally. Simple enough in theory, right up until the enemy decides to make you a priority target. Learning just how durable mages were firsthand is a particularly unpleasant experience. It is one thing to be told that your defensive film can repel small arms fire, and another to test that every day. Also, while I can appreciate the meticulousness of the Empire and their rigorous testing to specify what calibre of artillery the average mage could reasonably withstand with their defensive shell, that fact is completely useless because I can't imagine anyone being able to discern what size the shell was coming at you in time to know if you could survive  it or not.

The only real defense we mages have is movement. I believe Tanya described survival as an 'onion' where the first layer was to not be harm's way, then if you are in harm's way, don't be easy to aim at, then don't let hit you, if they hit you don't let it get through your shell, and lastly if it gets through your shell, don't let it kill you. With how she flew, she must really believe in the idea, as I don't think I've seen any other mage move like she did.

Are you an airplane, Visha? No? Then why are you flying like one? Mages are not bound to thrust in a single direction. Your flight formula doesn't require you to take any specific position. We are not bound by two dimensions, so take advantage of that and practice irregular movements whenever you can. So long as you aren't shaking yourself to the point you can't aim, the more you move the safer you will be.

BOOM

The sound of an airburst shell rings in my ears as shrapnel bounces off my reflexive shell formula. Smoke stings my eyes for a brief moment as I climb to avoid the other airburst shells that will doubtlessly follow. I fly blind for only a moment before a hand grabs the back of my collar, and I feel myself lurch upwards. Releasing me after clearing the smoke, Tanya hovered by my side, looking as proud and noble as ever.

"Bastards!" Corporal Vist calls out in anger. Really, for all their talk about being proper soldiers I wished they kept more of a level head. "Kurst, with me! We're taking out that artillery!"

"Corporals, both of you get back here. Our mission is to delay enemy actions through flanking attacks." A sharp voice cuts through the chaos of the battlefield, the look on her face that of resigned frustration.

"Let us go, please! This is our chance!"

"Get back here! That is an order!"

"Yes! Did you see that commander? We're gonna crush their artillery!"

As the two rushed off, I quickly busied myself with performing the task we were given. I gave a brief glance to my platoon leader. The look of fury on her face suddenly made the latest threat on my life feel insignificant. Deciding that avoiding her ire was the ideal course of action, I fired explosive formulae down at the rushing infantry below.

"Corporal Serebrykov."

"Y-yes ma'am!"

"We are almost done here. Keep up the flanking attack. I'm going to go retrieve our useless platoon mates." Her voice was level, but I shivered unconsciously. Before flying off, I watched her calmly and without fanfare replicate Imperial saturation artillery fire by herself with a full magazine of explosive formulas. This horrific display of power churned the earth beneath us into an unrecognizable mess of smoke and craters. Seemingly satisfied by the results, she sped off after the corporals.

"Visha, you cannot keep up with me. This isn't an insult of your abilities, but a fact of our equipment disparity. Because of this, should you ever find yourself separated from me, your only goal is to initiate defensive maneuvers until I return or an immediate retreat back to base if I tell you to. Should I ever split off from you, know that I will return. Flying solo is rarely worth the risks. So, I am asking you to trust that I will return as I trust in you to watch my back."

Feeling immediately more vulnerable, I took solace in the fact that I knew Tanya would never leave my side if there was enemy mage presence. Gaining some additional altitude, I raised myself to around four thousand feet. While this made ground targeting much more difficult, it also gave me more time to anticipate airburst shells or other anti-air fire. Tanya's barrage had done more than what I could have with all of my remaining ammunition. At this point, the enemy charge was effectively blunted at least in our section. Still, there was no time to relax. I didn't want Tanya to think I was slacking off.

Aiming down at the barely recognizable figures of men moving to and fro, I prioritized the more organized looking units as I had been told to, trying to forget those were actual humans down there. In the briefest moment a terrible feeling filled my gut as my instincts screamed, and I looked up just in time to see an errant artillery shell rapidly descending upon me. I raised my arms and poured all my mana into a defensive shell. At impact my whole world went white, and I genuinely thought I was dead. It was only after the sensation of free falling and pain returned that made it clear I had not died just yet. Trying funnel mana into my orb was proving futile and I couldn't tell if it was because my brain had been rattled or if the orb was burned out.

The additional altitude was giving me enough time to reconcile the fact I was going to die, but not enough to stop it.

 Mom, Dad, I am so sorry.

Tanya was going to be so disappointed in me. All I had to do was keep myself safe and do what we had been ordered, and I couldn't even manage that. Grabbing my orb there was no sign of activity; it was burnt out. My arms and hands were still attached but they weren't unscathed either. If the impact didn't kill me the blood loss would. Not a particularly enjoyable final thought.

Lord, are you listening? Could you at least keep my parents safe?

Staring at the rapidly approaching earth, I closed my eyes and braced. The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. No, not thunder, but it wasn't artillery fire either. Whatever it was, it was coming towards me. A second impact knocked the wind out of me and the world was deafened by pure sound. The feeling of free falling stopped and opened my eyes to a desperate looking Tanya. I couldn't hear what she was saying, actually I couldn't hear anything and wondered for a second time if I had died. After a moment, sound returned to my world somehow.  Medical magic?

"Visha! Are you okay? Any shrapnel wounds? Bleeding?"

Thump thump. What? What?!

That artillery shell must have really done a number on me because instead of the fear of being disciplined, my mind decided to bring forth stories of dashing princes and charming heroes. The most terrifying person that I respected had saved me. How did she even get to me in time? To think that Tanya would perform a miracle just to save me. My mind swirled in a dull haze, and my mind swirled with the idea of us living like Ms. Vera and Maria.

"I…how did you?"

"Never mind that corporal. Answer my questions."

"Oh. I- uh, think my shell saved me from the worst…Lieutenant. Ma'am."

After a brief pause her frown morphed into the practiced iron mask I was quickly becoming accustomed to. "We're done here. Corporal Vist, Walhorf, hurry your asses up, we are returning to base."

"What about the mission?" I asked. Had we failed? Was it my fault?

"Your commitment to your duty is commendable Visha, but reinforcements have arrived, our job here is done. I can't seem to leave you alone for even a moment it seems. Now hold on and as a warning, while you might feel okay now the pain is going to return when we get to the medical tent."

The flight back was frighteningly fast; the terror helped with avoiding the embarrassment of being bridal carried by  a smaller and younger woman. She was telling the truth; the moment she dropped me off at the medical tent my world again became devoid of sound and every part of my body screamed in pain. I don't remember much, but when I came to, two days had passed. My wounds were apparently minor, other than two ruptured ear drums. Medical magic really was amazing; it couldn't replace anything fully lost, but it could repair. I was declared fit for duty and released shortly after and learned that my platoon mates had been promoted and sent to the rear.

Lieutenant Schwarzkopf later told me that he rushed their paperwork after he learned they had contributed to the situation that landed me in the medical tent. Tanya apparently had petitioned for me to be returned home but it had been denied. Though I was going to receive a Wound Badge which I felt was hardly worth the experience. Instead, I would be staying on the Rhine Front with Tanya which didn't bother me as much as I think it should. Actually, the idea of leaving without her felt…wrong.

I was worried that the memory of her carrying me and those irrational thoughts would make things awkward between us but it turns out, ideal daydreams were a luxury I could not afford. Losing two members had only increased our 'workload', as Tanya often lamented. The 205^th Assault Mage Company was as terribly undermanned as it had been since the start of the war. Days turned into weeks as I found myself desperately chasing after Tanya through this hell. She was a terrifying being on the war front. I knew this. You don't get Silver Wings by being just above average, but still, to see it firsthand was a wonder. One of the other veterans came to me at the mess tent one day and commented that staying next to her was either the safest or most dangerous place to be in the war, and I agreed.

"Lieutenant Degurechaff, if you don't mind me asking, why don't you lower your mana signature?" One of the veteran mages asked, I think his name was Schones?

"I am." The response was rather curt; she almost looked embarrassed. It was an expression that almost made her feel human. After hearing her say those two words, laughter erupted from the other vets. It wasn't as if you can completely hide your mana signature while flying, but Tanya's was always more distinct, loud even.

"You guys hear that? The dragon of the Rhine is lowering her mana signature!"

"I am still human, Sergeant Schones. So, I would prefer it if you wouldn't use such outlandish titles. Besides, the Type 95 bleeds mana. Even if I wanted to stop, this is as low as I can keep it."

The sergeant whistled impressed, "That is one hell of a computation orb. You won't hear me complain about making yourself into a spotlight. Just means less AA aimed my way."

"You're welcome. I'll be sure to share some of the AA, wouldn't want you to be feeling left out, corporal," Tanya snapped back.

"Hey, Corporal Serebryakov, you have my condolences. It must be difficult to fly with such a magnanimous leader."

"I- thank you?"

"I'll have to ask you not to fill my wingman's mind with nonsense. Unlike the rest of you Corporal Serebryakov is still sane, like me," Tanya retorted, flashing me a confident smile, I returned a nervous smile of my own.

Laughter filled the trench and I wondered if I was still sane after all. The sounds of 120mm artillery fire filled the air as the Empire's brinkmanship expertly smashed the Republic soldiers. Artillery plows, mage support, and infantry advances…the Cadet corps made such terrible concepts seem so ordinary and dull.

"It's almost time. Company, prepare to attack. We're gonna hunt down the ones the artillery missed," Commander Schwarzkopf called out.

The rest of that battle was the familiar blur of desperately following after Tanya. I still could not do anything remotely close to her, but at least I was able to keep up. Thankfully, the artillery had called for another bombardment, meaning we were spared the dreadful task of chasing retreating enemies. Returning to the rendezvous point, the tension of battle drained from me and I fell in a daze as fatigue clung to my body. The desire to sleep competed with the last vestiges of my femininity for a shower of any kind, even if Tanya had dismissed the whole idea as pointless at best and detrimental at worst.

"Visha, smelling like a flower in hell is a terrible idea. Look around, it's gun powder, iron, and blood everywhere. Smelling like anything else is just going to attract attention. Focus on surviving first."

Deciding to heed her words, I followed her example and collapsed into my bed. God's lack of sympathy for me was as present as ever as we were called to assemble just as sleep finally began to take me. Joining the gathering in the company tent, I could barely function and the other mages beside Tanya hardly looked any better. Only the veterans seemed to be able to hold on to the will of battle.

"Good. Okay, company, I have some bad news. We've received an urgent message. The 403^rd Assault Mage Company has suddenly entered an encounter battle with two penetrating mage companies. Artillery is pounding away, but the observer is being chased by enemy direct support mages and can't provide impact assessments." 

Another battle? So soon? And against new enemy mages no less… I am so tired.

"So, we have to rendezvous with the 403^rd. We're moving out immediately. At the same time, we have to rescue that observer who's under attack. He's requested backup. That reminds me, you experienced a situation like this up north Lieutenant Degurechaff?"

"Yes, sir. I can't say I intended on repeating that."

The thought of Elya flashed in my mind. Elya you liar, you're not safe even in the rear having tea! Even Tanya, someone who straddled the line of being superhuman, almost died serving as an observer. A surge of irrational energy filled me. I had to help them, whoever they were. This new energy, however, only made me feel different as the exhaustion was still ever present.

"I see. Well then…Lieutenant Degurechaff, as a Silver Wings recipient, is the rescue possible?"

"Not counting any potential delays? It's doubtful."

"Even if you used the Type 95? While I haven't seen it firsthand, there have been some rather impressive stories about your speed."

"If I flew as fast as possible, the only thing I would accomplish is being the first to be outnumbered and exhausted. As I said, I have no intention of repeating that experience. Furthermore, Corporal Serebryakov looks to be at her limit. I don't wish to be an inept officer that brings her subordinate to a rescue mission only to lose her and the personnel we were supposed to be rescuing. I am able to undergo the mission on my own, but I cannot guarantee success."

"Then if we break up the pair…no, nevermind."

A pit formed in my stomach. Our relationship had never followed expectations. Tanya was supposed to be like a younger sister I never had, and yet I was the one that relied on her. Even now, no especially now, I had been only a burden that she had to train and rescue while trying to survive. I wanted to show her, prove to her and to myself that I wasn't just a burden. The idea of being separated frightened me to no end, I had to show the commander that I was worth being paired with Tanya.

"Commander, if I may!"

"Corporal Serebryakov?"

"I'd like to volunteer! I volunteer for the rescue mission!"

"Corporal!" Tanya shrieked.

"I'm an imperial soldier, too! While it's presumptuous of me to say so, I believe I can handle this mission!"

Normally Tanya's reprimands could stop me cold; hell, just her stare was enough most of the time. Not this time. I have to show you that your efforts weren't wasted. That I can fly with you.

"Commander, please let me go!"

"That's what she says, Lieutenant."

"Commander Schwarzkopf!?"

Seeing Tanya's shocked wide red eyes and astonished face reminded me of old memories. It was like I was seeing my old friend again for the first time.

"I'll have Schone's squad escort you. Move out."

"But… Lieutenant."

"She's made up her mind. I understand your concern, Lieutenant, but any more makes you overprotective."

The memory of feeding her chocolate bubbled to the surface of my mind. I was reminded again that Tanya could make the most amusing faces, and I empathized with Elya's teasing for once. I was effectively ignoring some of the lessons she had imparted on me by volunteering, so she was sure to be upset but still… I had to. As the surprise faded and her default cold expression reset, there was a hint of distress now. I almost felt bad.

"Understood. I'll do my best."

"To save the day in a crisis is the dream of every mage. Good luck."

"And to you, commander."

After that, the majority of the company left the tent leaving only me and Tanya. She whirled at me with an almost savage grin, her expression causing Sergeant Schones' platoon to take a step back. 

"Well then, Corporal. Are you ready?"

I was. That smile of hers must be because she was proud to see me finally showing some courage. Her pronounced canines really did make her look like an Upyr sometimes. But still I smiled back, proud and confident. I've made up my mind, I won't be a burden anymore. I will be a mage who can fly with you even if I can't keep up with you.

"Yes, Lieutenant!"

"Good. Then it's time to go to work. Sergeant Schones, I'll be imposing on your team for a bit."

"No worries. We've got the most experience on the Rhine, before your arrival I would've even said these were our skies."

2^nd Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

The hell, Visha?! What has gotten into you? What part of 'survive' do you not get, you silly girl? I swear sometimes I wonder if she is even worth the trouble. Not only was I splitting my focus when I should be prioritizing my own survival she had managed to almost die once already.

Why am I giving her so much attention? Internalized trauma? The idea of just leaving her to her own devices caused my stomach to turn. Besides, it wasn't as if I was babying the girl, this was training. An investment into human capital, after all the more competent she was as an aerial mage the safer we would both be.

Her worst crime was forcing me to push the Type 95 for real. The idea of breaking the sound barrier had been passed around at Kruskos testing facility but had been shelved as being too dangerous. Turns out, it was entirely possible, just incredibly uncomfortable. The turbulence alone made the memory being tossed around in the carriage feel downright serene in comparison. A defensive shell was a sphere after all; it was not exactly aerodynamic; it took an extreme amount of thrust and all the consequences of going at such a speed had to be blunted by it from heat to drag. There was a moment I genuinely worried that I was going to be the one to kill Visha from impacting her. Thankfully it's much easier to slow down, though the rescue was rather rough.

Worse still were the rumors that circulated immediately after that event. The after action report I submitted to Lieutenant Schwarzkopf did me no favors either. Trying to downplay my actions had resulted in a rather uncomfortable discussion. The Type 95 also was not designed for such speeds and was oversaturated with mana for the rest of the day. Taking it off was not an option, forcing me to wear it throughout the night. The only way to keep the damn thing from turning itself into a bomb was to slowly bleed the mana by constantly keeping a flow through the cores. 

This thing really was cursed no matter what the Being Y promised. The longer I wear and use it the more others see me as something inhuman. I'm human damn it! Though the only reason I even offered to run this mission solo was because there was a very high chance that I could avoid any combat when the observer was inevitably taken out. The enemy vanguard is on a long range mission they were probably going to be exhausted so retreating from an enemy with superior numbers, even if they weren't a real threat, would be entirely justified.

Now with the veteran mages of the Rhine, the option to simply retreat goes from prudent to cowardly depending on the circumstances. Still, this wasn't entirely terrible, I had good coworkers, and this could prove to be a good chance for Visha to practice aerial combat against exhausted mages. Saving the observer was still very unlikely unless they were really lucky. It wasn't as if I didn't want to save them, I had been in their position after all, so I empathized with their plight. However, they really only had their own superiors to blame for putting them in such a terrible position. They were probably getting the same unreasonable orders I had to continue observing despite being actively hunted and outnumbered.

Approaching the location, I glanced back to see a still exhausted Visha valiantly keeping pace with us through will. I might have even been proud, if she hadn't put herself in danger needlessly. My musings were interrupted by a sudden burst of mana and a synchronized barrage of explosion formulas striking the ground in cascading plumes of smoke and debris. Explosive formulas? Long range missions typically prohibit such exhausting magic for good reason. They must have been desperate.

"All units, our observer is down. I say again, our observer is down."

Well shit. Maybe if we had sortied earlier we might have actually been able to save them. Worse still, now we were too close to turn around without taking enemy fire. This sucks, overtime without proper compensation is too much.

"Should we turn back?"

"No, it's unfortunate we didn't make it in time, but our time to retreat was before we entered the enemy's firing range. We're going to have to earn our pay today."

"Lieutenant Degurechaff, no offense, but isn't this a little much for one platoon?"

The Sergeant wasn't wrong: the latest intel before the observer had gone quiet was a report that the enemy force appeared to be at least two companies. Six to one was unreasonable for all but the most idiotic of soldiers to blindly charge at. However, this was Imperial held territory, and we had the artillery advantage. We held the advantage as the defender and while their numbers sounded impressive they were scattered from their sweeping operations.

"Sergeant Schones, your opinion would be correct in most cases, but not in this situation. Our enemy is exhausted and just expended a significant amount of mana and energy in that last bombardment. Think of it as fighting one exhausted platoon six times rather than two coordinated companies. We may be outnumbered but there is no reason to allow them time to regroup."

"That's a rather confident way of looking at it, Lieutenant."

"And you call yourself a soldier. Fine, I'll take three platoons. The rest are yours. This shouldn't be too hard."

Glancing at Visha even though she looked nervous, her movements were steady. She really had grown quickly. The fact that even though she was drafted she had volunteered for combat was a little worrying, but seeing her improve so quickly was rewarding. I would need to remind her that being willing to work above your pay grade, while admirable, should be tempered with a reasonable cost analysis. It was comforting to know my old friend was able to raise her capital despite the terrible situation.

"Are you trying to monopolize the title of ace, Lieutenant?"

"You and your squad might be at home on the Rhine, but I miss home, Sergeant. Just six more and I'll get a bonus and time off. I am quite ready for a vacation."

To think that in a rational and reasonable world that killing a person is a crime but in war, you kill dozens and get a medal. What a waste. Economic theory allows war to place a socially acceptable price on the lives of others. Really humans are creatures of hypocrisies. At least once my count is above fifty I'll get rewarded with two weeks off plus a bonus and a raise. I had likely already passed that threshold but long distance sniping and the overboard nature of the Type 95 had left some unconfirmed.

"What plans does the infamous Lieutenant Degurechaff, terror of the Rhine, have for such a vacation?"

"I want to visit my mother," I snarked back, smiling at the shocked expressions on the veteran's face.

"Lieutenant, could you please not make me feel like a terrible son? You've already bruised my ego as a mage," the Sergeant jokes, exaggeratingly dropping his shoulders. Polite chuckles and mocking platitudes come from the team. Even Visha is smiling; good, being relaxed will help her. One cannot neglect the impact of morale on employees.

"My apologies Sergeant Schones, I do hope you'll be magnanimous enough to forgive me. If you finish up early you are more than welcome to join me."

I was genuinely appreciative of the Sergeant's presence, and the fact that our undermanned company could spare anyone was a very generous gesture. Really, I need this war to end sooner than later. I was already being overworked, and I couldn't rely on the military to fully honor our contract and release me on the agreed time. Being indentured in the military for the entire war was a real possibility. Could the Empire win? It was an avenue to consider since escaping was looking to be a tenuous option. Against the Republic, the Entente? Yes, there was no question, but would those be their only opponents? The Federation would inevitably take a belligerent role, their ideology basically demanded them to.

Being Y might at least pretend to be a benevolent individual, but there was no telling what meddling Being X might bring on to this world. Unlike the world I knew, this one seemed to be more vulnerable to external meddling of so-called 'miracles'. Or maybe that was just a curse that only applied to me.

"War is only fun when you're winning," the lament leaves my lips unwittingly.

"Oh? I thought you were enjoying the despair of the defensive line."

"I'm a soldier. I go where I'm ordered." Even if I was loath to do so, my role was set and failing to prove myself as a valuable asset might put me in a position where my already limited ability to have choices is taken from me. If I was going to be forced to fight in this war, I want it to be on my terms as much as possible.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the Lieutenant actually hates war." Visha jumping to my defense was unexpected but seeing her determined expression was a good sign.

"Thank you, Corporal. I'd much prefer a quiet life. What about you Sergeant?"

"I'm with you, Lieutenant!" Snapping off a sharp salute, the sergeant performed some rather interesting flight techniques, taking on a marching posture without losing any momentum. The mood was now much more relaxed; really, an NCO was an invaluable asset.

"Enough chatter, it's time to get to work. Don't be stingy, give our guests as much lead and mana glow as they can stomach."

""Yes ma'am!""

"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!"

The forward controller had never screamed like that before, startling the 106th and 107th company members. Even though they were all exhausted, the warning reignited their already frayed nerves.

"Break! Break!"

The commander barked out the order to scatter. Then, Corporal Moreau felt it- before he could even focus on active detection, a mana signal seemed to almost call out. Spreading out to avoid being taken out all at once, it was a testament to their training how quickly they had reacted. It wasn't enough. Even with the early warning and the clear signal, confusion spread amongst the unit as they couldn't pinpoint the enemy. Moreau's wingman next to him took an explosive formula dead on, sending him spiraling in the air.

"Sean! Damn it! Where are they?"

"Bandit! Angel 12!"

"Angel 12?!"

No wonder he couldn't pinpoint them! There was no way he could've even considered a mana signal that high up. Sure enough, staring up into the clouds there they were, above twelve thousand feet. How the hell? Six thousand was the upper limit for aerial mages for a good reason. The idea that it might have been a fighter plane couldn't even be considered, that damned mana signal was almost taunting. Was it some form of active ECM? As if this mage wasn't already insane for flying at that altitude, they were burning mana without a care in the world. The demands of flying at such heights made running out of mana a death sentence, conservation should be their main priority.

 "Climb! We're climbing! We'll engage at eight thousand feet!"

Imperial mages were notorious for their skill, but this was absurd. Even if they weren't exhausted, taking on a mage at our peak with such a height discrepancy would be difficult. Approaching an enemy at twelve thousand feet was effectively impossible, let alone performing aerial maneuvers.

"Captain, that's-!"

"There's no other way!"

Normally, a long distance observation formula would be deployed to check for recorded signatures, but with how loud this mage was being, that wasn't required. Instead, the library hit was a horrible discovery. A Named. To the Republic, "Registered Mage: Name- 'Devil of the Rhine" a monster of the battlefield. Mages represented a fraction of the population; Named threats were generally companies that on average have around six kills to their name. Individual Registered Mages were monsters in their own realm. This one was a genuine strategic threat, one that had already accumulated over sixty kills. Operations are planned around this bastard due to just how horrific the losses he inflicts are.

Worse, there was no way to confirm the rumors circulating about this damned devil. Everything from landing sniping formulas past artillery range to explosive formulas that were supposedly equivalent to a main battleship cannon. There were even stories that they could move at impossible speeds beyond that even fighter planes.

"…Oh my God!"

"Bravo, engage!"

There wasn't a choice at all, now. They would either take them out or be taken out. Going home? Unlikely, but maybe they could avenge their fellow comrades. There was no way they could leave such a threat alive.

"Devil of the Rhine! Today, today we take you down!"

"…I don't believe we've met."

In an act that gave credence to those rumors, the devil took preemptive evasive maneuvers, almost dancing around our practiced volley fire of guided and spatial explosive formulas which were hidden under illusions. Even the most well trained mage shouldn't have been able to detect those so early. He deployed a series of optical decoys while moving at a dizzying speed. Republic doctrine prioritized volley fire to make the most of their numerical superiority rather than the Empire's emphasis on individual skill.

"That shot missed? What a monster!"

Tanya was beginning to regret her earlier boasts. The battle was still winnable, but the reactions and teamwork of the enemy was at a level of competency that was infuriating. Running their signatures against her library confirmed her worries, this was a Named company. Damn, this wasn't included in the reports of those lazy bastards!

"CP, this is urgent. The enemy company is Named. I say again, the enemy company is Named."

"CP, roger. I've got reinforcements heading your way. Don't work too hard."

There is one less worry. At least Visha and Sergeant Schones wouldn't be taking on a named company without support.

"Reinforcements acknowledged. Send them over to Sergeant Schones, they can join me if they finish up early."

Prioritizing the lives of 'fellow soldiers' was always seen as a positive trait. Similarly, was a face of confidence against the odds. Bravado was as much a tool as any other social construct. Speaking of bravado, the Republic soldiers were being rather overly zealous in their pursuit.

"CP, requesting theater warning for spatial detonation."

"CP, roger. Will issue a spatial detonation warning."

"Sergeant Schones! Prepare for impact!"

This really must be a devil, or at least they have the devil's luck, Moreau thought. Volley after volley of guided formulas found nothing but empty air. Even the explosive formulas deployed to restrict his movement either missed or were entirely ineffective. And not once did their damn signal dim.

"Attention, fighters of the Republican Army. Surrender now or be destroyed. On my honor as a soldier of the Empire, I guarantee your rights as prisoners according to the Worms Convention. We will do our utmost to defend our fatherland, because behind us are people we must protect. Again, I ask you to surrender. You need not die needlessly."

Tanya really did mean her words. Even if CP was listening, she had already hit her required amount of kills, anymore would only have diminishing returns. Capturing a few platoons of Republic mages accomplished the goal of reducing the enemies forces and provided these fools a chance to live. It really was a win-win scenario.

A woman? Needless!? How could they surrender now? Six of their own were dead and so many others had already fallen to this devil, and now you have mercy? A small hope flickers throughout the Francois unit that the devil is bluffing because she knows she is in danger.  None of us will surrender, we are part of a Named company. Our honor as Francois soldiers would be destroyed if we surrendered to a woman we outnumbered.

"Va te faire foutre! Just die already, devil!" A series of insults and formula rounds in practiced volleys was their response.

"Have you lost all your reason? Do you wish for war this badly? I suppose we could never understand each other then. Farewell, fighters of the Republic Army. I apologize for making your mothers weep for you."

A spatial detonation was effectively just a modified explosive formula just with a much wider area of superimposed inference. It was a tactic within the skill range of most mages, however it would render the airspace in the local combat theater a chaotic mess. Because of the scale, its very nature was more chaotic than an explosive formula, further increasing the chance of friendly fire. The smoke and mana noise would reduce visibility and render joint combat difficult, if not impossible. In general, it was considered a last resort when friendlies were limited and the enemy significantly outnumbered you.  

"This is CP with a warning for the theater. Watch out for mana noise."

On a channel the Republic soldiers couldn't hear a final que was given. The devil's mana signal spiked and we reflexively separated to limit the damage from an explosive formula. Even now, the devil danced out of fire, though for a moment I truly believed we were cornering him. The formula that he fired could only be described as monstrous.

The spell detonated as an overwhelming amount of compressed mana saturated the area encompassing a region greater than their separated distance. As the magic explosion erupted, the excess mana desperate to disperse caused a secondary heat explosion, causing in turn the oxygen in the area to plummet. This is the least lethal aspect of the spell, as the heat and pressure wave are enough to overcome all but the most specialized defensive shells. The resulting fireball encompassed the sky as the infantry below were buffeted by super-heated wind, turning the mud-soaked hell into a brief oven.

"Gack-cough!" Even the distance Tanya had taken wasn't enough to escape the secondary effects of reduced oxygen and smoke. An oxygen generation formula was all that kept her from oxygen deprivation. The mana noise will interfere with radio comms until it finally dissipates and make formulas in the region difficult as the free mana runs rampant. Looking at the sky where the Republic mages once were, Tanya lamented their inability to see reason. Sighing, she returned to her comrades having successfully fulfilled her obligations.

"You want to meet her?" A man in simple robes is currently engaged in a conversation with a being that he can only just comprehend.

"Yes.They interest me."

Formless and shifting, they had no appearance yet could be seen as everything. Of the three, this one was closest to the creator and as such was immutable. For 'Being J' this conversation was surreal even for one like himself. For he was them, and yet not, and they were him, yet not. The three each had their intricacies. A mortal man with an immortal perspective, an immortal with a mortal mind, and a being who knew only infinity.

"I can't make any promises. Besides, what would you(I) even say to her?" Language had a rather frustrating tendency to begin to falter around this one.

"I don't need to say anything, I am merely interested."

"Of course. Still, what brought this on? I can understand even if I do not sympathize with Father's (My) interaction, but you (We) are different."

"Is it so strange to be interested in a soul that has caught the attention of you both?"

"Still, she is but only one soul. If this is the Lord's will, I see no reason not to help. I simply worry we may be stepping on the toes of this world's gods too much. They are much more liberal with their divinity. She also might not be able to withstand your… appearance."

"I will take on a pleasing appearance for her that is no trouble. This is but a mere moment in time. There is nothing to lose in this simple interaction."

"Very well. I will…plan for our next meeting then."

Chapter Text

UNIFIED YEAR 1923, PARISII, CAPITAL OF FRANCIOS REPUBLIC, CAFÉ DE FLORE

Betty Pack (Amy Thrope)

My life had been much more quiet since Anna left; it was rather melancholic. Still, I had a job here and as the Empire’s bloody battle rages in the Rhine, the valuation of my work has risen substantially. From my recent correspondence, poor Habergram and the entirety of the Intelligence department is being slammed with demands for any updates about the war. While losing Anna’s military contact was a bit of a blow, my target was useful enough to cover at least some of the lost ground.

“Monsiuer Dejean! How lovely it is to see you again.” Really, Dejean wasn’t a bad man, in fact compared to his peers he was almost tolerable. How a man who was not entirely self-absorbed had managed to become a foreign ambassador for the Francois was a miracle. His only real flaw was that he was as incorrigible as his peers and easily smitten by the most simplest displays of affection.

“Mademoiselle Pack, you look as lovely as ever!” The balding man looked exhausted, but it was almost adorable to see his expression shift from complete fatigue to joy. After a brief hug and an exchange of pecks on the cheek I led the man to our usual table. Espionage necessitated a level of internalized paranoia, and despite the fact I knew that the Intelligence Department owned this café the desire for privacy was ever present.

“Oh, darling you look absolutely ragged. Tough day?”

“Ma chérie, days like this make me envy your Commonwealth. I had the particularly disheartening honor of attending a military review of a recent battle. I’ll be honest, until now while I never believed we would achieve absolute victory, I at least believed we could hold until the Empire came to its senses. Now, either through divine grace, or a deal with the devil, a monster from that damn nation has shaken my faith to its core.”

Oh? This was new. To Dejean I was an ambitious, unhappy wife of a lowly ambassador from the Commonwealth. Our relationship was built on the understanding that it was an exchange, that I would provide him the joys of attention in all its forms, and he would provide me information to give to my ‘husband’ so that he might be promoted. Our nation’s history meant that information that passed between open channels was taciturn at best, though usually it was argumentative. Most of what I learned from the man was mundane but useful information: possible trade negotiations, price increases, and (through his gripes) the outlook and attitude of the Republic’s government. Individually these were not particularly impactful, but when combined painted a reasonable picture of the Republic’s possible fighting power.

“Take heart Dejean, at least the food here is good. Speaking of which, perhaps we skip the tea and have some wine instead. I find it impossible for such a noble man as yourself to be so disheartened. Just last week you spoke of the great bravery and the successes of the Francios soldiers on the Rhine.”

“Wine would be lovely…but you don’t understand, Betty. The Empire has what I can only call a devil in the form of a human.” Shifting anxiously, the man reached into his coat and retrieved a folded stack of papers. “The report and minutes from the meeting.”

I masked my shock with concern at the idea of losing my contact or worse, being discovered and having any backlash from the Republic government affect the Commonwealth. Those concerns were enough to not yank the papers out of the man’s hands immediately. “Dejean, are you really certain you want to give me that? Isn’t that like military secrets? We won’t get in trouble right?”  

“If you can get this to your husband, and if he can make the Commonwealth understand…that if they don’t stand with us now, they will fight the Empire alone.” He held the papers out desperately towards me. “Everyone in that room, no that damned building would rather put on blinders than look at the truth. We are going to lose.”

Oh, this is the bad kind of new.

“Okay, okay…I’ll do my best, darling.”

Gently, I take the papers from his shaking hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze before I separate from him, stuffing the papers into my purse. The rest of our meeting thankfully followed our usual script of mutual minor complaints about our work and our ‘spouses’ in between flirting and sips of wine. At least I sipped, Dejean on the other hand went through three bottles, rather swiftly ending our ‘date’ with me all but dragging the stumbling man into a cab.

The return back to my apartment was a paranoia-filled journey. Dejean was an unassuming and easily dismissed government official by his peers and that made him a perfect target. Conversely, someone of his position surely didn’t have immediate access to such information. A part of me was worried that he might have taken the original documents rather than make copies. I didn’t think he was that stupid but, considering the way he was acting he might have been shaken enough to think it was worth it. Let’s see what made the man so distraught. Taking out the papers in my apartment I took in a deep breath and read the opening lines of the document.

Please don’t be Anna’s sister. Please don’t be Anna’s sister.

SUBJECT: Tactical Council of Rhine Theatre- Excessive Mage Casualties and The “Devil of the Rhine”

REF: 106th and 107th Aerial Mage Company After Action Report

Well, that’s ominous. The preamble to this document is almost boilerplate primer on Republic mage doctrine and information about mages in a military role. Actually, the first few pages read as if this it made to be distributed to non-military personnel. That’s… also rather ominous. As I read through the document, I was reasonably certain of its intent. It was likely a political tool to justify current military actions or rather lack of aggressive military actions. Rather telling, as Dejean had mentioned internal frustrations at the lack of progress on the Rhine. Also, his presence in a tactical council shows that the military’s reputation might not be the greatest if they have to explain themselves even to him.

If the politicians were complaining loud enough for the military to even bother with such a show, it did not bode well for the Republic’s future. Calling the casualty reports of the Rhine front horrendous would be an understatement. The document highlighted a region of the Rhine front in which Aerial mage casualties were abnormally high. Republic mage losses in other regions more closely followed prior assumptions of established doctrine. Volley fire and ensuring numerical advantage had allowed them to defeat or at least stall the Empire’s mages in the majority of their engagements. In the noted region, however, at least two, almost three, battalions worth of mages had been lost with a significant portion of these being attributed to a single mage.

After that rather unbelievable claim was a summary of all assumed casualties inflicted by the Named mage, “Devil of the Rhine”, which ranged from impressive but possible to downright fanciful claims. Sniping formulas landing true at ranges beyond visual sight, explosive formulas at scales that would make an artillery battery proud, and the most insane of all zero visual descriptions. If these reports hadn’t been made by veterans, I could see why anyone would wave these off as madness. Additionally, the references of 106th and 107th were of the few recovered damaged computation orb recordings.

They noted that very few, if any of the casualties attributed to ‘Devil’ had computation orbs that could be recovered; most of them were completely damaged beyond recognition.  Worse still the recovered orbs were from mages of the 106th and 107th who had fallen early into the encounter providing only the most limited intel. None of these recordings were noted to contain a visual of this devil, though they clearly record the same magical signature reported in all other casualty reports.

…Shit.

The meeting notes Dejean provided alongside the document painted a picture of mixed disbelief and outrage. Vice Minister of Defense Pierre-Michel de Lugo himself did not seem to hold a defeatist attitude, instead he urged for an avoidant policy until the Republic could discern if this ‘Devil’ was actually a lone mage, some new form of combined arms, a technology that the Empire had unveiled in desperation, or perhaps some combination of those.

Colonel Vianto of the 2nd Mage Company, the Republic’s very own elite Special Forces, went on to defend his fallen comrades and even argued for the combined arms theory, postulating a new fighter plane with a mage accompaniment. He even noted that the mage was at twelve thousand feet for an extended period of time and a plane could provide several explanations to the seemingly impossible feats.

It sounded more like wishful thinking to me. Worse still, while the document did not provide the magic signature I had a terrible feeling I already knew what or who it was. So…now what? I mean obviously I was going to move this information up the chain, but what do I even say? The Francios have a boogeyman that they can’t provide any information on that is not only killing their mages en masse, while performing feats that any sane mage would claim is impossible, but also posing such a strategic threat they are actively reforming their war plans around not engaging with it. Oh, and I think it might be Anna’s sister!

And that might even be the best case scenario.

I cradled my head in my hands. Conversely, this might all just be poisoned bait from the Republic to goad the Commonwealth into joining the war. That would mean I was discovered and was being used by the very nation I was trying to exploit. Wonderful options all around. Perhaps my time in the Republic has come to an end, at least as Betty. Shuffling agents was always a pain, but at this point I would be second guessing any information I acquired and there were better uses of my time.

I left my apartment, making my way to the embassy, grumbling the entire trip. It was evening and the sun was quickly sinking, which was good. I would need the cover of night. If I had to leave, I might as well leave with something useful. Now, I wasn’t sure of how compromised we were but if the embassy line was compromised then this trip would end with me in La Sante or worse. Better to be a prisoner than an unwitting traitor.

“Mr. Constantine?”

A tired voice with a Rus accent answered: “Rather late for a call, Ms. Peck.”

“My apologies. I need a cleaner and a lock smith. Do you have any recommendations?”

“How soon do you need them?” The sound of shuffling came along with his question.

“Tonight. There is a family emergency, and I need to go home as soon as possible. Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind I would appreciate a driver as well.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

If I am going to pass on anything in that report then I want primary sources. The computation orbs that were mentioned should still be at HQ, but there was no way to know for how long. Those recordings and the magic signature would give me more than foreign theories about the new threat the Empire had…

It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?

REPUBLIC MILITARY HQ

Mr. Constantine

Well shit. There goes my sleep. 

If it is so important that it has that woman ready and willing to abandon her post, it should be worth it. Her request wasn’t a simple one either, but it was manageable. If we do this right, I might even be able to keep my role here. Approaching the building, luck seemed to be on my side as I recognized one of the guards at the main gate.

“Good evening, Sergeant Girard. Do you mind if I get to front door, guardsmen?” Butchering the Francois language was a minor bonus.

“Little late, ain’t it Monsieur Popov?” Ah, Mr. Popov the affable janitor. Not everyone gets to be a spouse of an ambassador and live in comfort. Still, Mr. Popov’s access was very limited, mostly to storerooms and hallways. There is, however, enough to find for those who know what to look for. Recently Mr. Popov has managed to get himself promoted to include bathrooms. How gracious.

“Ah yes sorry. See I forget something of very important. I could give to you? Is keys to maintenance rooms.”  Taking out a key ring holding a selection of brass keys. They were actually to the maintenance rooms; there was no reason to lie about that, but these were copies. Taking the originals would get Madam Roche sounding every alarm she could.

The sergeant was a good man; I had made an effort to be exceptionally friendly with him. A pack of cigarettes here, a cup of coffee there and you’d be surprised how easy it is to build rapport with someone. “Nah, you can go ahead. Should be Lieutenant Durand tonight, he’ll understand.” I could almost see him thinking ‘What harm could little old Mr. Popov cause’?

 “Ah! Big thank you, Sergeant Girard. I’ll bring you cup of coffee sometime.”

“I look forward to it, now hurry along. I don't want the MPs to give you any issues.”

I bobbed my head and hustled past the gate towards the main building, waving at the man. The MPs were an issue, but thankfully the night shift focused more on external patrols. No reason to roam the halls if everyone had gone home. The few poor bastards still working were probably the perpetually exhausted Logistics or fellow Intelligence members trying to untangle whatever impossible task they had been handed. At the building entrance, sure enough, was Lieutenant Durand and a new face which could be an issue.

The new face glared at me and wheeled his rifle at me immediately. “Halt! Who goes there!” Nervous little bastard.

I raised my hands and cowered at the unnecessary display. “I am Popov! Janitor! I am here to return keys! Sorry! No shoot!”

“Corporal lower you damn rifle! Sorry about that, Mr. Popov. First night for the lad, fresh out of training, he’s a bit enthusiastic. Now what did you say about keys?”

I waited until the kid lowered his gun which he did eventually though he kept his glare. “Iz keys to maintenance rooms. I-I know iz late but I didn’t want to make Madam Roche angry. I can give keyz to you.” I stammer, letting my accent bleed in to further mangle the already broken Francios.

“Keys to what rooms?! Why do you have them?!”

“Corporal, calm down! Save that energy for the Imperials. Mr. Popov is a janitor and he is part of the cleaning crew. You’ll see him mopping the hallways.”

“Sir, he is not on the authorization list.”

The lieutenant sighed, “Yes, because the cleaning crew are on day shift. He is on the authorization list for the morning. Now for the last time, calm down. I’m not going to tell you again. Mr. Popov, where do those keys go?”

“U-uhh they are supposed to go in the cabinet on Madam Roche office. Third one down from bottom.”

The lieutenant visibly paled. Madam Roche was a…difficult woman. She deserved her position for her sheer vitriol alone, but the HQ was clean and despite the increased smoking habits, the ash trays were never filled. As a cost for this efficiency, she was also neurotic about those who entered her office and the particular order of things. Placing a pen in the wrong location could have her screeching all day.

“Why don’t I escort you to her room?”

“Lieutenant? You can’t be serious.”

“Listen Corporal, since you are new let me be the first to warn you. Do not upset Madam Roche. You should also know that the list of things that will upset Madam Roche are numerous, and I will not save you if you do.” The deathly serious tone of the Lieutenant's voice seemed to put real fear in the kid, which would probably be to his benefit. “Now, are you telling me you are not capable of standing at this door by yourself for twenty minutes?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Come along Mr. Popov, this shouldn’t take long. I expect you will make an effort to ensure that this doesn’t happen again. Correct?”

“Yes, Lieutenant! Was big mistake. Is why I am here now so late. To fix.”

Pantomiming cowering under the glare of the corporal, I followed the lieutenant into the building. The trip was rather short to Madam Roche’s office and as a plus the entire building seemed this night. Luck really was on my side this night, or perhaps the devil? After all, God has long been absent in my life. Who was I to deny the devil’s help? Plans upon plans.

“Alright Popov, don’t take long.” I really would need to send Madam Roche a thank you card at some point. I wonder whose wife she was to be in such a position, to strike enough fear that a lieutenant tacitly refuses to even enter her office.

“Yes, sir. One moment.”

Entering into the impeccable office, I saw the cabinet was not far from the door; still, there was time enough for what I needed to do. Time for a show. I dropped the key ring on the floor and let it slide across the room. If they didn’t get the signal then this would be a wash, and Mr. Popov was probably going to be in some real trouble. Not even a moment later the faint sound of gunshot rang out in the distance.

“The hell? Popov hurry it up!”

“I dropped the keys! A moment please!”

And then another gunshot, followed by a rather distressing amount more. That… wasn’t supposed to be a part of the plan.

“Shit! Stay here, I'm locking the door, don't go anywhere!”

“Oh yes sir!”

After the lieutenant slammed the door shut, I waited for the sounds of his retreating footsteps that echoed through the hallway to grow quiet. Madam Roche was a particular woman, and as a particular woman she had demanded that her office have a window. What luck. I strode over towards it, abandoning the bumbling posture I had kept and unlatched the window, opening it wide. 

Three liquid shadows slipped into the room. Illusion magic made for poor invisibility but in the dark cheap tricks could go quite far.

“If it isn’t the good Mr. Popov! How has the mopping been?”

“Go fuck yourself,” I spat back with a grin. “Now that all the hard work has been done, I trust you three are capable of getting what we need by yourselves or do you need me to hold your hand?”

“Enough with the chatter, Constantine. Let's not take any risks and do this right.”

“Fine, fine. Considering the distraction sounded excessive we probably have more time than we had planned for. Follow me. Unless the Francios have changed their habits overnight, the orbs should be in the same review theatre.”

“Not particularly secure is that?”

“You think we went through all this because it wasn’t secure?”

“Touche.”

Really, locking the door couldn’t have kept Mr. Popov in since it could be unlocked from the inside. The lieutenant probably did that more out of concern for the man’s health than his ability to conduct espionage. The sight of shifting shadows slipping out of the office, even if there was someone roaming the halls, would probably be shaken off as an exhaustion-induced hallucination. Still, none of us had felt comfortable enough to relax making an expeditious trip to the Review Theatre. Popov may not have access to any of the rooms, but soldier’s complaints are wonderful cartographers tools.

The room still held the stink of sweat and cigar smoke. Next to the front dais was a table holding several objects that were a series of truly mangled computation orbs. Documents were strewn about the place; it looked like someone had a fight or thrown a tantrum in here.

“They normally this messy? I’m not saying we keep things pristine but,” one of the mages said, letting out a whistle, “This is a bit much.” He muttered as he flipped through the discarded papers.

“Leave those. The woman in charge of shredding documents is frustratingly observant and persnickety about page counts. Hurry up and go get the recordings. If those lumps of metal even have recordings.”

The plan was simple, just a modification of the previous one, should the Francios decide not to share in the future. Rather than a smash and grab, computation orb recordings were mana and formulas, and you can replicate those with a secondary orb. Bit of an extravagance as the copy would hold formula priority, but if that was all it needed to do, then it’s a useful method.  

“Anything?”

“Yeah we got the mana signature. Damn thing is almost burned into each of ‘em. Recording copied, but just from a glance we’ll learn much. The mana noise must have been insane. Hey, come over here.”

“What is it?”

“Listen.”

“Is that…trumpets?”

THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL, AT THE DESK OF THE DEPUTY DIRECTOR OF THE SERVICE CORPS IN THE GENERAL STAFF

Brigadier General von Zettour was waiting for his old friend to finish escaping the multitude of polite conversations that followed after a gathering of high ranking military members. Of the many War College admission committees Zettour had attended, this one in particular had been quite interesting. While they normally maintained the anonymity of the candidates, this case was very unusual. A third rounder with overwhelming positive reviews whose personal connections were completely removed from the military was anomalous. Being a naturalized citizen was hardly enough of a reason to deny such a promising candidate.

Learning why Major Lergen had such reservations made attending the meeting more than worth it. A thirteen year old girl had a military record that few officers could accomplish in the time she had been alive. With a combat record that spoke of exceptional talent and somehow managed to earn the favor and respect of multiple departments. An Ace of Aces who had earned the Silver Wings with seventy two downed and thirty one assists. Zettour vaguely remembered a denied propaganda campaign around a Silver Wings recipient. He held a genuine worry the man would say something about her ‘character’ or ‘age’ as reasons for his reassessment; instead he dropped a bombshell on the board members.

“Her political standing may have major implications with placing her in the higher echelons of Military command.”

It was a succinct statement that only brought a deluge of questions on the poor Personnel representative. Rumors that she could be of Rus royalty, a possible connection to the Kaiser himself and concerns about angering the Federations were what he provided in response. He went on to even say that some of these concerns came directly from the Noble Court. Politics. No high ranking military member can avoid politics but to have them reaching so far as to keep a 2nd lieutenant from promotion was unpalatable for the majority of those attending.

“Additionally, 2nd Lieutenant Degurechaff displayed a magic capable of mental manipulation. The Magic department and Intelligence have reported that the spell in the report is far from mind control but troubling none the less.”

“Lergen, are any of these rumors true?” One of the review board members asked.

“I can’t say for certain. There is enough evidence for some of them to be possible. In the previous review, the conclusion was that due to her age and lack of achievements alongside the mentioned concerns were enough to warrant a denial.”

“Are these concerns, or commands?” Zettour’s gaze made Lergen uncomfortable as he asked.

“Sir?”

“The Noble Court’s concerns have not dictated military policy before. We are not a collection of vassal states anymore. Our sole allegiance is to the Kaiser and the Empire. He is more than capable of giving clear directions if he believed it was necessary. Need I remind you all of another precocious mage in the Royal Guard at this very moment? Her highness has clear directives about how we are authorized to utilize her. So, I ask again, are these simply concerns or commands?”

“As far as I am aware these are…concerns.”

“Well, gentlemen, I see no reason for this review to go on any further. If we are to deny this candidate then we ought to refuse all other candidates who failed to be her equal.”

“Zettour, the Noble Court may not hold the same sway it once did but snubbing them outright will have consequences. Financially if nothing else. They are already throwing fits at the idea that industrial lands will be impacted. Stepping on toes now while we are in the middle handling two fronts is a step too far.”

“Have you looked at the causality reports?” Rudersdorf interjected, “Anywhere Lieutenant Degurechaff has been stationed has a notable drop in losses.” The sounds of shuffled papers and murmurs spread throughout the room. "I’ll be the first to argue against involving politics into military matters, especially noble politics. However, in this case, Zettour isn’t wrong that denying this candidate without an explicit directive is asinine.”

“What about the research request from Dr. Schugel? According to the man, she is capable of achieving speeds faster than sound,” The representative from Research and Development chimed in.

“That’s impossible,” and other such dismals echoed around the room.

“So was mana fixation, but the two of them achieved that,” the man retorted.

“I see no reason why she could not attend both. The Kruskos Air space is not too far from the academy, no?” Zettour spoke with an amused, almost sadistic smile. “Gentlemen, I understand there are concerns but I truly believe that she will be of better use in our hands than idling simply out of so-called ‘concerns’. Should the Court truly disagree, they are more than welcome to petition the Kaiser, and we, ever subservient, will acquiesce to his command. But, until then we should push for what we can get.”

The sounds of heavy stomps echoed throughout the building, snapping Zettour out of his musings about the earlier meeting. A smile grew on his face as he recalled how Rudersdorf’s subordinates were able to know where that man was by his boisterous gait alone. His old friend really did nothing in half measures.

He burst into the room without even a knock. “Alright Zettour. Explain what the hell that was all about.”

“I am simply interested in her.”

“That’s rather concerning since you’re a married man.” Zettour leveled a flat look at his friend’s poor jest. “Fine, but my concern is real. As a mage, there is no question of her potential tactical use, but her strategic skills are relatively unknown. Furthermore, you are sticking all of our hands into a hornets nest.”

“War is simply an extension of politics. So tell me, Rudersdorf, should we have just handed her over to that den of snakes? No doubt there are plans ranging from her potential marriage opportunities to sending her off the Federation as a sign of goodwill. I would rather not lose such a powerful tool while we are scrambling to fortify the western front.”

“You are a noble yourself, lest you forget. I feel you are far too paranoid and pessimistic about your peers, Zettour.”

“I am but a noble in name, same as you, von Rudersdorf.”

“Feh, you and your semantics. Besides, no war is won by a single soldier.”

“If you have such reservations, why did you side with me during the review?”

Instead of answering, Rudersdorf pulled out two cigars, handing one to Zettour before going through the practiced ritual of cutting and lighting his own as he dropped into the visitor chair. Zettour had actually requisitioned an especially comfortable one, and since the war began he and Rudersdorf have held many meetings in his office. He was content to wait for his friend to get his thoughts together. His friend was a man of action not words, they could cover what the other lacked.

“Because you aren’t entirely wrong. I still think there are more potential downsides to this decision. Do you know what Lergen told me after the review? He believes that she is an abnormality, a mixture of monster and child that he cannot give any true description of besides ‘soldier’. On one hand she broke a trainee mentally so badly he never recovered while killing more men than some of our most veteran of mages. On the other she sends a letter to her mother once a week and requests time off to see her frequently.”  

“And you don’t think that is interesting?”

“I think she is capable of being dangerous in many ways. A soldier who achieves such success in a short time is either blessed by God or the devil.”

“My friend, for the Fatherland I’d happily take either.”

THE RHINE FRONT

1st Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 13

Today’s mail call had been an emotional rollercoaster of disappointment, relief, and trepidation. The unusually substantial amount of papers set aside for me were concerning enough. Within the pile was a denial of leave, a promotion and admission into the War College, additional duty as a research partner with Elenium Arms, and an approved recommendation for Corporal Serebryakov’s transition into the Officer Corps.

I don’t know if I should jump for joy, or hold my head and cry.

Still, there was good news. Even if my reward for being an effective worker was being withheld…or maybe just substituted? It wasn’t as if I was being unfairly punished and the War College was in the capital, so visiting wasn’t entirely out of the question. The additional duty was frustratingly vague in details. If it was more time with that madman, I would need to have a withdrawal request written up as soon as possible. Leaving my tent with the papers, I made my way over to the communal dining area.

Visha and Sergeant Schones’ platoon were scarfing down the day's rations. He waved me over and made room so I could sit across from Visha. They were a rowdy group but dependable. In a more professional setting, they were like experienced blue collar workers who had not had to handle the brunt of office bureaucracy. Useful connections for help, but not of exceptional value as human capital for career progression. They were good men nonetheless. Sitting down on the bench, I waited for Visha to finish inhaling her food.

It took her about three more spoonfuls of gruel before she looked up, her cheeks turning pink. “Gck-cough! Sorry, Ma’am! I hadn’t noticed you had joined us.”

I gave a small wave, gesturing for her to relax while ignoring the chuckles and laughter from the peanut gallery. After Visha’s stunt I was worried my friend had their brain rattled by that artillery shell, but whatever had compelled her to do that was thankfully absent the last few weeks. She did seem different, but really, who could stay the same after experiencing the hell of the Rhine? Still, while Visha’s growth was commendable, I had worried that her potential might stagnate in such an environment, but she has grown to be quite the competent mage.

“You can finish your food, Corporal. There haven’t been any calls for a morning sortie, so take your time.”

“Oh, no, ma’am. It's fine, I was done already.”

Sure enough, her plate and bowl were empty. For a girl who had come literally crying to me about the quality of food she had adapted rather well. A perfect example of how adaptable humans are.

“That’s a lot of mail, ma’am. Any of that for me?” Schones asked with a grin.

“Unfortunately not, but I do have good news for you Sergeant. The skies of the Rhine will be yours to claim again. Do watch out for flak, our guests might still be expecting me, after all.”

The Sergeant’s grin grew before adopting an exaggerated face of determination. “Worry not, Lieutenant! I can keep our guests busy until you return.”

Eugh, I would rather they would just leave.

“That’s 1st Lieutenant by the way. Besides, Sergeant Schones, if you want letters, you should do your duty as a son and write to your mother more. I’m certain she misses you even if it was wasted on such an impetuous child.”

“Augh my heart! Must you be so sharp with your words Lieutenant? How can I congratulate your promotion under this crushing guilt? Really though, how do you even find the time to write during all this?”

Before I could reply, a quiet question floated across the table.

“You're leaving…?” Visha’s voice sounded so distant as if the words were but a whimper. The pale look on her face had me in damage control mode immediately. I had seen similar expressions on those I had fired before. Good employees who were not good enough for the company to justify their position.

“Corporal Serebryakov! This is for you.” I stated, hastily sliding over her the folder holding her acceptance papers. “While the veterans of the Rhine are a capable lot, leaving you here with them would be a waste of your talents. It’s an acceptance letter to the Officer Corps Academy.”

“Lieuetenaaaaant! Why must you bring my hopes up just to tear them down again?” Sergeant Schones wailed, falling into the arms of his laughing wingman. “Where are my magic papers?”

“Did you want to be an officer as well, Sergeant?”

As if on cue, the man sat straight up in perfect posture, “On second thought. Congratulations, Corporal Serebryakov. May you be as magnanimous of a leader as the lieutenant.”

I gave him a pointed stare before sighing at his theatrics and smiling in exasperation. Comradery and harmless jokes had a value all their own, especially in such a dangerous career field as ours. While communication was one of my strong suits, playing the clown was not a particularly effective long term strategy for growth. They had survived this long without going mad and I believe that the Sergeant was a key factor in that.

“But, what about you T- Lieutenant? Where are you going?” Visha at least wasn’t looking like I had told her dog had died. The concern and worry in her voice was almost painful. Had she developed a dependency complex since her time here? Perhaps this separation would be good for her.

“I can’t have you catching up to me so easily, Corporal. I have been admitted to the War College.”

A sudden collection of cheers startled me. This table had become rather infamous for some bizarre reason. The ‘den’ was the colloquial name that I was being passed around. Apparently our conversation had gathered a crowd.

 “Congratulations Lieutenant!” “That’s our dragon!” “We’re spared!”

What was that last one?

“Oi! Chow’s over. If you're not eating, do something useful,” Commander Schwarzkopf barked out. After the crowd had sufficiently scattered, he walked over with a smile. “Congratulations Lieutenant, Corporal. We’ll miss you on the Rhine.”

I was a bit unnerved at the sudden attention that was on me. “Thank you, Commander. No disrespect, but I hope if we reunite it’ll be in a quieter location.”

“Hey! You didn’t say anything about reuniting with us!” Sergeant Schones complained.

“I have to keep my expectations realistic.” A collection of mock moans of pain escaped the platoon while the Commander laughed at the display.

“We’ll we meet again, Lieutenant?” There was an almost pleading look in Visha’s eyes.

“Well that depends on you Corporal. Do your best in the Academy and should we meet again as with the Commander, I hope it will be in calmer circumstances.” I said giving the young girl what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

Conflict defusal was unfortunately not the same as comforting someone, but there should be enough overlap for parts of it to be applicable. A part of me felt guilty as I thought about how I might be lying to the girl, should an escape plan ever come to fruition, but that was looking more impossible as the days went on. The number of compounding issues were enough that if it wasn’t Being X, there might be some other awful being out there screwing me over. Visha paused before her expression became one of determination.

“Yes Ma’am! I won’t let you down.”

“I would hope not. Now go pack your gear, we've got the same train to catch.”

“Yes Ma’am!” She yelled with a grin before rushing off to our tent.

“It was good working with you, gentlemen. May this war end soon so that we may all go home.”

“Come on Lieutenant, you’re gonna make us cry.”

“The Sergeant’s impropriety aside, thank you for all your work Lieutenant Degurechaff. I'm certain we all share that same hope.”

“Thank you Commander, sometimes I worry I am the only adult here.” The grin on Schones’ face after that comment made me want to punch him.

“We can’t all be as mature as you, Lieutenant.”

“You should at least aspire to be.”

KRUSKOS ARMY AIR CORPS TESTING FIELD

1st Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff

Age: 13

All the ideas of hot food, warm beds and a return to scholarly pursuits have been thoroughly dashed. At least the train ride back had been pleasant, though Visha was rather quiet. Not that I minded returning back to normalcy after such a harrowing experience; it must have been difficult for such a young girl. War was such an abysmally wasteful endeavor. Immediately on my arrival I was ushered to my dormitory and provided an absolutely packed schedule.

No days off and barely any time off regardless. If I wasn’t at the War College, I was expected at the Kruskos Airfield. This research was apparently important enough that I had been given permission to fly in the capital’s airspace for the duration of my time at the college. I had been genuinely looking forward to being back in school after all the hardship we had gone through to try and attend one earlier. Now it felt like I was an underprivileged college student working to pay off crippling debt. Worst of all, it was with that damn mad man.

“Lieutenant! Is it not a joyous and glorious occasion that we meet again? Surely the Lord’s grace is upon us.”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Schugel,” was all I could get out between gnashed teeth. Had my reports been disregarded? After all that documentation they still kept this mad man?

“I have heard the wondrous news! That our miracle has delivered yet another!”

I preferred his callous egotistical and focused scientific insanity to this new religious fanaticism. At least I could understand the former.

“What other miracle?”

“That you, chosen of the Lord, have gone where no other human has. Past the very speed of sound! You shall lead us all into a new future!”

Horror overcame me as I realized what he was referring to. That stupid impulsive act of pushing the Type 95 had somehow made its way back to this mad fool. I had spent my time on the Rhine trying to toe the line of being successful without drawing unwanted attention yet it seems I went a step too far.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Doktor.”

“There is no need to be humble with me, Lieutenant. For we are bonded under the Lord’s gaze. Together we will be the instrument of the Lord’s might! I had a strike of inspiration, but together we are capable of miracles.”

No. No, thank you. Hell no. Even literally if it came to that.

“You’ll have to forgive Dr. Schugel, but could you share what exactly you have in mind?”

So, I can write a report to get me out of this now.

“Worry not, Lieutenant. I have no devices or machinations that you need to test. There are others for that. No, what I need is data. Information, real practical information, not simple numbers on paper or algorithmic proofs. As much as I can get. That is why we need you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Doctor.”

The fanatic gives me a patient smile, and I wonder briefly how well I could argue that my gun misfired. “It’s simple. Lieutenant. All you must do is perform a miracle you have already done once before, just this time with recording equipment. Our estimates however do show a particularly violent interaction upon reaching super-sonic speeds, so these tests must be performed at an altitude no less than ten thousand feet.”

I could feel fatigue overcome me already at the unreasonable demands. Was I being set up to fail? How can they expect me to be a productive student if I am performing exhausting aerial maneuvers on a daily basis?

“Since you are here already, why don’t we start now?”

“What?” Is he serious?

“Your classes don’t begin for another two days after all. Now put on this backpack and hold this.”

Two lab assistants placed the pack on me and the weight almost made me fall over. ‘This’ was what looked like a cross between a lightning rod and a lance. It was double my height and just keeping it upright was a chore. Without magic my body was still that of a teenage girl and all the limitations that came with that.

“Simply keep the rod forward as you fly, and the bag will record your flight data. While the divine Type 95 may have no limits, I am well aware you are still human as I. So, we went through the effort of reducing your load by making the recording equipment disparate.”  

The doktor's idea of human competence was completely disconnected from reality.

“Show us the strength of the Lord and the power of his grace!”

Why me? Did the Empire really need a madman? There are too many people around to do the world a favor.

“Dr. Schugel, I can barely carry these things. Do you really expect me to fly with them?”

“Lieutenant, what are you talking about? You have been given a touch of divinity. Hold back the Lord’s grace no longer and let his song ring!”

Being Y you lying bastard! Not cursed my ass. I knew better, and I still let myself be deceived by that damned devil. Those two work together. How could I have been so stupid? ‘Up to you’, he said. If I see that devil again I’m breaking his nose.

What should I do? Every single use of the Type 95 since I was burdened with the damn thing has been under the same measured control I used for the standard computation orb. The mana draw is higher, but that was simple to account for. After that stunt on the Rhine, I couldn’t take the damn thing off until the mana finally diffused. What happens if I do the same for prolonged periods?

“Dr. Schugel I appreciate your evaluation of me but-”

“Enough, Lieutenant. While I lament to do so, if encouragement alone is not enough then consider this order: 1st Lieutenant Degurechaff, I order you to perform your duty and bring the Empire to even further heights.”

Not today- not tomorrow either, but one day I will personally end this madman. Disobeying a direct order still held consequences I could not afford to take. It may not even spare me from this insane experiment. A prisoner has even less rights than a soldier and killing the Doktor may just have another take his place. Exhaling a heavy sigh, I fed mana into the Type 95.

It wasn’t just that the madman was asking me to perform a miracle multiple times that gave me trepidation. That first experience almost unintentionally killed me and Visha. All I could think at that time was that I needed to move faster. I hadn’t even considered that I could reach close to the speed needed to reach let alone break the sound barrier. The initial experience was like being in a hamster ball that was being shook by an overly excited toddler. My only saving grace was it was a brief one and my time in that horrible moment was short lived. Now I was going to have to do that again, and again until this bastard was satisfied or I failed.

I just have to survive. Survive until I can go home, where we can all be safe.

 “Lieutenant Degurechaff, sortieing out.”

The ‘lance’ shifted in the wind, and even with magical body reinforcement it took all my effort to keep it from being ripped out of my hands. I had to take a compressed posture, effectively wrapping myself around it like a bizarre mockery of a knight. Turning even at normal speeds was painful, so instead of the usual loose and rapid adjustments I had to use vector thrusts to adjust myself. Making even the most minor adjustments shook me about. The first few flights with the ‘lance’, or as the doctor and assistants called it an ‘instrument probe', ended up being flung from my hands long before I got anywhere near the sound barrier.

I had hoped he would’ve given up after I failed initially, but the damned man was persistent and only ‘kindly’ urged me on. Under his false platitudes was the menacing promise that he was happy to continue this experiment until I had a success.

“Lieutenant, if it helps motivate you, replicating the miracle today will provide us enough data for at least a couple of weeks.”  

Bastard.

At fourteen thousand feet, the number of overlapping formulae and prolonged high altitude flight was making my head ring. The Type 95 wasn’t even oversaturated yet, but ‘wanting’ to cut loose was easier said than done. Like dropping glass on purpose after spending a lifetime avoiding doing so. The sounds of muffled wind whipped across my shell as I breathed in deep and pushed.

The ground blurred beneath me and instead of feeling the omnipresent force of air pushing against my shell, the probe began pushing into me. Shifting formulae around with the vystalva becoming the oxygen production spell, I focused on reinforcing my body to keep the spike straight as I accelerated. Drag grabbed onto my shell and the probe’s front shook me like I was in a paint mixer. My vision greyed at the edges as I poured even more mana into the flight formula.

The buffeting movement of the moving air suddenly weakened, though it did not vanish entirely. It was almost anticlimactic; there was no crack of thunder, just a slight shift in control, as if only portions of my shell were in the current of a rushing river rather than its entirety. Realizing I had accomplished my absurd task, I pulled back on the flight formula only for my shell to be slammed by a tidal wave of pressure as the airflow shifted around the lance, the spike snapping as it moved off level for just a moment. I tumbled in the air, feeling like an abused pachinko ball.

Hopefully this stupid backpack had recorded whatever that madman wanted. Maybe breaking it might have even been a good thing if it was a custom device; it might take them weeks to rebuild it. This idle thought was all I could wring out of my mind. The ground, in the brief glimpses as I turned, was still rather far away. Reorientating myself, I pushed against the spin, reorganizing the layer of formulas I had for less specialized flight. I was rather far away from the airfield. Trying to decipher where I was going at that speed was another complex task to untangle that I would rather avoid, but if these experiments continued I would have to figure it out at some point.

My vision normalized at some point and I realized I couldn’t hear the wind, just ringing. Did my shell not work? A muffled sound had me reevaluate the formula: it was incredibly dense. Shifting it back to its standard configuration, I could make out a voice, though it was muted like I just fired a gun without ear protection.

“-respond? Lieutenant Degurechaff respond." The muffled sound of thunder echoed across the radio. “Was that…?”

“This is Lieutenant Degurechaff.”

“Was that it? Did you-” before the man could continue the sounds of a scuffle came over the radio briefly. “SUCCESS! THE LORD IS GOOD FOR HE IS GREAT! Miracles upon miracles Lieutenant! We shall bring his image to this world! Together!”

The last thing I needed for my pounding skull was the screeching of a mad fanatic. Interlaying the vystalva was only compounding on the pain in my head. Faintly, I felt something wet drip down my lip. My nose was bleeding. Was it the high altitude? Too dry air? I should ask for a mask or something. First some painkillers and sleep. If that damned madman tries to stop me, consequences be damned, I’ll do what I have to.

“Lieutenant Degurechaff, enroute to Kruskos Airfield.”

Being X, Y or whatever else is out there, I will survive this, damn you.

RHINE FRONT, REAR GARRISON, FOREIGN PRESS HOUSING

Amy Olson (Anastasia)

“Thank you for your help…” I gave a pleading look at the young man helping me move my luggage up the stairs.

“Andrew, WTN. It’s no problem at all. Us reporters have to stick together after all.”

“Of course, I’ll be sure to return the favor. Amy, ILN.”

Andrew gave me a look of pity. Points off for that, I suppose. The trip over had been a mess of documents, press training, a rather stern warning to stay undiscovered. Of the various other reporters that I had joined, Andrew was the most talkative of the bunch. It was almost admirable how much he tried to weasel out information from any source possible.

“Ah, that’s why such a beautiful woman as you is here. ILN just started their publications last year, right?”

“Yes, but what do you mean that’s why I’m here?”

“Well competing with WTN isn’t easy, I’m sure they are sending everyone they have to try and keep up.”

Shame, he seemed almost charming at first. For a John Bull.

“Sounds as though you won’t need me to return the favor after all. I have to ‘keep up’, after all.”  Flashing him a flat smile, I lifted the luggage into my new shared room and closed the door on him.

The last reports I had were that she was here. Well, not here but close- on the Rhine front. Playing my role as a reporter, the plan was to ‘interview’ soldiers about more mundane topics to feed the news machine in the Commonwealth. Getting to Tanya was going to take some inventive thinking. As I dropped the heavy bag in the shared space, the extra bed was already taken. The woman looking at me with an amused smirk was beautiful. I blinked before realizing I had been staring.

“My apologies, it's been a long trip. My name is Amy, Amy Olson, ILN,” I said, reaching out a hand to her.

She gave me a bright smile and rose from the bed grabbing my hand. “Lovely to meet you, Amy. My name is Elya, Elya Müller. I hope we get along during our time together.”