Confronting (In)Securities

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that? John… Newmie?”

“I swear to Gaia… John Newman! I was here not even that long ago, don’t you keep some kind of a ‘known person’ list?! I’ll put a damn poster up myself if I-”

“Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya! Come on, I haven’t seen you or that rambunctious kitten of yours in over a year. You’re one of the few people around here whose chain I can yank without either getting disciplined or losing all the respect I’ve worked up by beating them into the ground.”

“Wait, is this… Glenna?” John asked, a moment’s hesitation falling across him as his mind fumbled for the name he’d not heard since his return. John was shocked he remembered the name of the drill instructor at all after so long, chalking it up to another effect of his ever-increasing mental stats.

“I’ll be, you do remember me! Figured you’d at least call me Glenda. You wouldn’t believe how often I get that one,” Glenna said. Even through the slightly distorted speaker, John could make out the clear sound of her laughter. “I don’t suppose you brought my most… enthusiastic trainee along with you today?”

“No, Maera isn’t here this time. I’m not quite sure how this meeting is going to go, figured I should keep things to a minimum. How have things been?”

“Well, maybe I should let Moira tell you herself,” Glenna said from the other end, sounding a bit remorseful. “She told me to forward you to her chambers as soon as you buzzed in. Seemed pretty irate about it.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” John said, his brows furrowing.

“Yeah, sorry about that, can’t refuse a direct order from the Warden. Patching you through to her phone now.”

There was a brief beeping sound followed by a flash of static, then silence for only a beat before it picked up. Moira must have damn near had her finger over the call button. He just hoped her hammer wasn’t actually in her other hand as she’d threatened during their last conversation.

“John, is that you?” Moira asked over the speaker.

“Yeah, it’s me, Moira. I’m back, and I’ve got-”

“Get to my father’s office, right now.”

“Moira, I know you’re probably upset-”

“Get your infuriating ass over here, John Newman. Now!”

There was a clicking sound as the line disconnected, followed almost immediately by the metallic clang of the gates opening up. John glanced briefly behind him, meeting Sophia and Adantia’s gaze for a moment. With Layla at the market and having finally convinced Farrah to allow John to send her back to his new world, it was just the three of them now. John nodded toward the Manor and set off toward the main doors.

“Seriously, I thought you said the Order didn’t bring most of their soldiers with them when they left?” Adantia noted as John threw the main doors open and traipsed inside the Manor. “If that’s true, then why is this place so huge? It’d take a dozen Fateweavers to secure this place properly, even on a temporary basis. But I’m also not even sensing a Barrier in place. Do they have proper security here?”

“Compared to what, your city? Probably not,” John admitted as he made his way through the overly wide hallways.

“Geez, the Order was pretty well respected the last I knew. The British and German branches together were basically second only to the Deities themselves, and there were a lot of factions that chose their territory and banked their investments on how likely the Order was to start up a new branch in America. Did they really not bring a single Fateweaver with them? Do they not at least have an emergency Barrier?”

“Well, I’ve been gone for over a year so it’s not like I’m up to date on their security measures. Besides, would any of that really stop someone as powerful as you? Or an entire army of necromancers?” John noted as he turned down another hall.

“I didn’t say it would,” Adantia noted. “But that’s basic security. You said you visited Himiko – didn’t she have some kind of Barrier around her?”

John fell silent, remembering not only the Barrier that Himiko had erected around her palace, but also the Barrier her elite unit had been able to conjure up while on the move, both of which had been over double his current leveling maximum. John’s level cap had increased quite a bit since he finished the last of the Albidians and sealed himself away in his world, but his current run was still capped at level 70, barely a third of her mobile Barrier’s restrictions and not even a seventh of her home base’s power. John wondered if there were more abilities out there that would affect him based on his level and not stats. Maybe it was just how his interface interpreted particularly powerful spells, the kind used by the Deities and their highest level subordinates?

“Gonna say she did, between your silence and the fact she actually knows what she’s doing,” Adantia said, scoffing. “Frankly, you’re lucky the American Abyss doesn’t seem to have developed much since Paix got destroyed, at least from what you told me. A lot of other areas in the Abyss would never let such a sloppy defense stand, especially if they had something to gain by controlling the area. Between the American Abyss being so sloppy and your town being a podunk little metropolis, you got off pretty easy.”

“Let’s hold off saying I got away easy until after we deal with Moira. Whatever strength you might think the Order is lacking, they’re probably as strict as their old reputation holds.”

“Speaking of which, have you figured out how you’re going to convince this Moira to go along with your plans? Just because you brought me doesn’t mean she’ll agree to stay in Springfield and hope we can win. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking awesome – but if I were her, and my base didn’t even have a proper Barrier defense, I wouldn’t exactly feel ecstatic about trusting a newbie mage and someone who was supposed to be dead with the safety of my entire territory. Especially if that territory was just one little mundane town.”

“I’m… going to wing it,” John said, grimacing even as the words left his mouth. “I intend to do that a lot less someday, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t something of a habit.”

“Habits and predictability. Two of my favorite things… in my enemies, at least. They’re the best things to break besides bones,” Adantia said with a wry grin.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t break anything while we’re here,” John said, pausing as they reached the large double doors to Lord Brighton’s main office. “There are no enemies here, so no breaking things, got it?”

John grasped the gilded handles of the heavy double doors, but the moment that his hands made contact, the doors flew open, hurled wide from the other side. The right door swung freely into the wall with a resounding crash, but the left door hit John’s knuckles and left shoulder with enough **** to make him wince, though not trigger a damage notification.

-19 HP!

...Though he couldn’t say the same of the gauntleted slap that he received a moment later.

“John Newman, I’m so glad you made it back okay! After what you put me through, I’m the only one who gets to kill you!”

“G-good to see you too, Moira,” John managed to eke out, even as Moira wrapped her hands around his chest armor and pinned him to the wall. There was a spark of relief and genuine concern lighting her eyes, but it was a dull ember compared to the inferno of frustration that burned at the surface.

“Is this how all your interactions start?” Adantia asked from the side, gesturing to Sophia. “Because even she’s barely reacting.”

“Father has… insisted that this is not unexpected, and that I do not attempt to break anything when his ‘friends’ greet him in this manner.”

“Doesn’t he know how fun breaking things is?”

“Okay, if you two could be a little more serious-”

“Don’t worry about them,” Moira growled. “Worry about me! Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through, John?! I was barely sleeping as it is, what with the constant negotiations across the pond, news flooding in about the war every other day in rumors and half-truths, and trying to organize the move of an entire manor with half the resources we had when we left the UK. On top of that, you have me spending the little time I do get in bed lying awake, wondering when I’ll see you again - if I’ll see you again, if you hadn’t already become Himiko’s plaything… or worse!”

Despite her anger, Moira’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, unreleased emotions that she stubbornly clung onto even as she chastised John. Delicately, hoping not to further upset her, John rested his hands on Moira’s, the metal of their armors clanking together softly.

“Moira… I know that I put you through a lot. I know that I was being selfish by forcing you to shoulder the fears and worries I couldn’t deal with.”

“After I lectured him on it,” Adantia chimed in, most unhelpfully. John shot her a glare but continued on anyway.

“Selfish? John, you were being insane! Crossing the country during an international crisis, heading into the territory of a Deity… do you have any idea the number of ways things could have gone wrong?”

“I don’t think he actually does,” Adantia said with a shrug. “Been working on teaching him.”

“I will speak with you when I’ve finished with him,” Moira said, barely turning her eyes away from John.

“Ooh, she’s feisty. I heard the British Order was a little high-strung, but this is actually crazy entertaining,” Adantia said, chuckling at John’s predicament.

“My daughter has been understandably stressed as of late. Perhaps while she instructs John on proper conduct, you and I could have a conversation?”

The words boomed from behind Moira as Lord Brighton strode from his office in full battle regalia, a set of armor that John couldn’t help but note made not a single clanking sound as he moved. The man may as well have been wearing a robe for all the noise he made as he walked, only his echoing voice signaling his approach. A lengthy cape flowed from his shoulders, and as he turned to face Adantia, John could see just enough of the backside of the cape to recognize the insignia of the Golden Rose.

“Oh? You must be Lord Brighton. Wondered if I’d get to meet the former Warden Lord today or not. What did you want to talk about?”

Lord Brighton cast his eyes across the room, to where Moira was still holding onto John, though her grip had softened a bit when she noticed her father’s approach. A grin crossed his face, tired but still filled with amusement.

“Perhaps this is a conversation best had elsewhere. Would you mind accompanying me?”

Adantia offered an amused shrug in return, matching Lord Brighton’s grin.