Damian Sokolowiecz, Cleric-Chapin of Kavaa, stood in his camp. Five hundred and thirty-eight men stood behind him, all Cleri light beige shirt and shorts for dealing with temperatures of Arika. Cleric-Chapin of the Order of the Knights of the Crimson Cross stood before him. The camp had grown silent sihe Epan Order had arrived, all pte armours and thick capes as if they had dressed for the Karainan snow.

  “Excuse me?” He asked.

  “It is the Goddess’ will. The ey of the Twis are to return to Olympiada.”

  “What for?”

  “I know not… but she said t arms.”

  Arascus watched Mikhail’s workshop through a gss pne. Was it a workshop at this point? The name should be ged to factory. The location had been moved from headquarters to the eastern Karainan cities. They had all but takehe lesser towns in the region at this point with their own men. It was located close to Tarin and half way between Kira Car factory and the Aksia refinery and inhabited the ruins of an abandoned iroery. Closed down some thirty years ago as people moved away.

  Now the local popuce treated Mikhail Ash as a hero. A man who had e aored industry and employment for them. The engineer had posters stuck up in his office created by some youths, marvellous propaganda frankly, eveer that Arascus did not order it himself. The man was drawn like a hero, t over a mass of shackled people and handing them a hammer, a factory behind him. Smash the s of poverty written in striking yellow text before it. Arascus and Iliyal had not even sidered the purposes of this for recruitment.

  “I apologize for the wait.” Mikhail entered his offid bowed to the God. His style had reverted back to the blue engineer’s overalls, a cap over his balding head, a new pair of gsses and he was holding a rose bouquet in his hand.

  “You’ve bee a hero here.” Arascus said idly.

  “It is underserved.” Mikhail put the bouquet into a vase on a table. Four more stood there. “I didn’t stop them becau…”

  “Don’t expin yourself Ash.” Arascus interrupted him. “Pride is good for us all.”

  “Well…” The man smiled and awkwardly rearrahe roses. “I do suppose I like it.”

  “I’ve e to ihe pnes, are they ready?”

  “As ready as they’ll ever be.”

  Ilwin looked at his band of thirty men behind him. Alsaria had tasked some thhly unpleasant minod to take them back to Doschia’s capital of adt. From there, they had takerain to Lubska’s capital of Zawitz, a three-day trek to the Karainan border, through the barely poputed Stary Las they had snuto Karaina and were heading back to headquarters.

  Mikhail could barely tain himself wheook Arascus down a small wooded footpath to a secluded warehouse away from Tavda town. “The popution dee has stemmed entirely.” Mikhail spoke to fill the silence, he was sure that Arascus would know already. “Over the past four months, we’ve seen emigration dee from two hundred a month, this month, we’ve had an intake of five people.”

  “Narma suggests you for the local eles.” Arascus said and Mikhail ughed nervously.

  “Th-That isn’t my domain.” The flowers were bad enough. He had e here to oversee the pne development, not to manage party politics. Then he realised he was talking to Arascus. “If you… I mean, it be do…” The God started chug.

  “I don’t throw fish into forests and bears into the o.” Arascus said. “We’ll find a man and you’ll throw your support in behind him. One speech is all, Daganhoff will write it.” A weight disappeared from Mikhail’s shoulders, a speech he could give. “But I have to say, I’m surprised you’re not married yet.” Mikhail and responded on instinct, this talk was all too familiar back at home.

  “Are you my mother?” He said, stopped and bowed. “I-I apo-“ Arascus looked down at him from twice his height, his dark eyes shoh mirth and he burst out in ughter. To see a God ugh? Mikhail could barely believe his eyes.

  “Don’t apologize.” He said, still chug. “Empires run on men who talk, not servants who ask for permission.”

  “I…” Mikhail blinked. “I mean…”

  “I’m simply surprised.” Arascus tinued walking through the forests as birds chattered away. “Roses?” He smirked.

  “It was from a married woman.” Mikhail said. “They did not want to move away, her son was ill, her husband started work in Tarin. The boy survived.” There wasn’t any reason t the story on. Arascus’ hand spped him on the back.

  “Mikhail Ash! Bringer of jobs, restorer of cities, saviour of children.” The God ughed as Mikhail kept on hiking through the forest. Those weren’t bad titles… were they?

  Neneria kicked her legs into the air as she rode on Pegaz o Fer, Traius led them forwards. Almost ten thousamen marched behind them, from the eldest and the wounded who were carried on the backs of bullmen to the children, who seemed to have endless energy and pyed games as they ran around the rger pack members. It was an army on the march.

  Two armies. Neneria had hers in her pocket.

  “The pne fly without the back door.” Mikhail spoke swiftly and fidently. “If worst es to worst, it be blown off. The pilot’s is entirely sealed with its own oxygen ihere is a iween the rear where we pn to put sorcerers and the pilot, that be used to hold the men who aren’t jumping. We have installed cords to hold men too, we wanted a release meism but you said the less meical parts the better, everyone on board is expected to have a kh them if they are jumping.” Mikhail drew his finger over the diagram. Arascus leaned over the table, the two jets stood before them. They were barely reizable from the meagre pnes Operation SkyStealer had acquired.

  The engines had been repced from the circur civilian designs to pointed jet engines used by gover officials, two more had been fitted onto the back, oop to further improve top speed. The nose had been redesigned, made into a spear-tip to minimize air-resistance. Even the wings had been repced, gohe two wobbliaig out of either side and in came a pyramid design, iwined into the pne’s body from the from all the way to the back. “I’ve called this design the Raptor model.” Mikhail voice’s shook as he spoke. The team of engineers Iliyal had brought him along with his own intelligence, he was sure that this was the most advanced pne in the world. The hough… none of them were flowery artists.

  “Like the bird.” Arascus said idly as he straightened his bad looked at the jet before them.

  “Raptors pick prey up and drop them to finish them off.” Mikhail said and the God chuckled yet again.

  “Not everything needs a meical reason behind it Ash. The s.” He looked directly at the pne. “Why the paint?” He asked and Ash nervously ughed. The twenty-two engineers who lived in this secret pound all shared nervous ghey were stood lined up on the side, each man dirty from oil. Half of them covered in cuts from w with sharp steel. Rough and dirty hands on all of them, but all of them smiled at the God’s rea. It was beyond obvious he enjoyed what he was looking at. The pne was covered in bck paint, the front shed with yellow to try and add a beak. Two red eyes, tilted downwards, were behind the pilot’s .

  “We thought it fit.”