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[Isk]

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For the Magnate there had been a time when the future had been a habit, something belonging to the unchanging rhythm of his days toiling to improve his status. His mind stung in the morning, his finger tips burned in the afternoon. Every illuminated parchment he wrote and read looked the same. Tomorrow became today, and today became yesterday, as though time were little more than something to be put on paper, forever explaining in new words what was essentially the same. Seasons come and go, people fight. Nations rise and fall. He expected only what he had already endured, prepared only for what had already happened. His past enslaved his future. Only his body seemed to change. Years of drugs, perhaps even his connection with the Hand of Evil caused his body to break down. A shaking hand, nose bleeds, cravings for his various addictions.

But now...

Breathlessly, Isk walked across the rooftop garden of his family’s home. The night sky was clear. The constellations glittered against the black: The Horse Shoe rising in the east, the Lion poised in the west. The encircling heights of the stars reared across the distance like scattered pebbles, a riot of blue structures pricked by distant points of torchlight.

Isk pressed through a hedge of flowers, fouled his leggings on the sharp stems. The garden was quaint and calming, the ground having received constant nourishment from his wife’s gentle hand displayed the greenest grass. He stepped across a row of rushes, then reached the pit of sand his youngest liked to play in so much. It is there that he knelt, still searching for his breath as he rubbed blood off the lips of his mask.

The future had been... slipped, and now it ran like a dog eager for scraps.

“I am,” Isk murmured through clenched teeth, “a genius”

The Indenture. A contract signed between the like minded. His creation. One blessed by the Regent. Since he and Angelique had travelled with it, the onus was on them to gather up a coalition. As the names filled the scroll Isk realized that the contract was taking on a life far greater than he had imagined. So many leaders, so many egos. All it took was a common fear to unite them. Playing off paranoia and panic of invasion Isk slyly insinuated that after Moonglow the forces of Sanctus would have a permanent home from which to take down all of Trammel. Therefore, naturally, it was in the interest of all to join and drive Sanctus back. Support was so overwhelming that even silent partners like Wicked Rose offered supplies should things come to war.

But there was something wrong. Isk knew it was a risk. A coalition of this size had never been forged before. The move was bolder than the initial creation of the Regency all those many years ago. The massiveness of it would cause trouble, things could easily become overly complicated. The fact that a handful of generals had been chosen for the combined army meant that different strategies would be employed. There was no guarantee how everyone would act. Every ego would need to be stroked, every Great Name treated as an equal. Some would push for immediate war while others, Isk knew, would wish to try a peaceful resolution first. There would need to be a balance.

“I hope we will hold” Isk muttered as he closed his eyes.

By now copies of the Indenture were mostly in the hands of those who signed them. The Great Names. Within hours Isk knew the Indenture would be public knowledge.



And while Trammel unified against this threat Isk could not help but think of his secret friends and their aims for the city of Sanctus itself while its army is occupied.