John, keep your big mouth shut.

The phasing of reality was strange - it resembled seasickness, or more accurately motion sickness. John felt as if every part of him were moving in every possible direction, yet he simultaneously felt no movement whatsoever as the scenery surrounding him slowly altered itself to the new reality. Or in this case, his old reality - once again, John was finally home. Granted, he was in the park, and he still had to take a long bus ride home, but… well, he was on his own plane again, and that was something at least.

"This place is… much less open," Seras said, glancing around. In the afternoon sun she was squinting, but the number of cars and people around was certainly enough to immediately establish a stark difference between John's home world and the one of his own creation.

"It is. Sorry about the sunlight, by the way. This is the least suspicious time for us to return. Just follow along with what I do and what I say. As we agreed, yes?"

"Y-yes, Master!" Seras shouted, striking a salute immediately. John sighed and rubbed at his temples, glancing around to see if anyone was close enough to hear or notice her absurdly exaggerated movements. It was already a miracle that they were not paying attention to the fact that two people had just popped into existence - there were too many people strolling through the park in the afternoon to not have noticed them appearing out of thin air. Moira's book was right -the human mind, perhaps with a bit of influence from Gaia, had an amazing capacity for forgetting things it didn't want to believe.

"First order - don't refer to me as Master, and don't salute, while we're in public. It draws too much attention. In this world, masters and saluting aren't exactly normal, except in very rare circumstances, and this is none of them, and I don't want eyes on us."

"A-alright… sir," Seras said, pausing momentarily as she **** herself to come up with another word, trying to both follow orders and her instinct at the same time. John fought the urge to roll his eyes as he tried to figure out how to get them both home. He had enough money to cover the bus fare, thanks to his many dungeon ventures, but he didn't know about how to actually get Seras in the house. He was counting on her vampire skills to make sneaking in through the upper window a breeze, but if that failed for any reason - like say her innate clumsiness - he was going to have to rely on the inability of normal humans to perceive magical things for a lot more than just a simple appearing trick.

"Now, first things first, we need to-"

John was interrupted by a loud ringing noise. He was so caught up in thought it took him longer than it should have to realize that it was his phone causing the commotion, and so his ringtone had almost completely finished by the time that he eventually picked it up.

"Hello, this is John," John said, trying to use his best neutral tone in the hopes that whoever had called him would-

"John? Thank Gaia, this is Moira! I've been trying to reach you all day; where were you? You weren't at school, and your phone has been going straight to voicemail!"

"I was, uh - I was testing out my powers. I wasn't in service, sorry; we don't get great coverage outside of the main metropolitan areas," John explained, hoping his lie was at least somewhat believable to the Paladin on the other end of the phone.

"Light blast your infernal cellular service, John; we're in full crisis mode here! Half of the Order of the Golden Rose has been attacked in the last twenty-four hours; you've been out of contact; and to top it all off, the Cabal made a play for one of our most well-guarded Barriers. Do you have plans for this evening, John?"

The last sentence was spoken in an almost too-calm tone, John's internal alarm bells ringing. His attempts at maintaining a calm façade were put to the test as a sickly-sweet tone entered his voice.

"No, of course not. What do you need Moira?"

"Gather your weapons. Report to the manor immediately. The Order is going to war."

"I'm sorry, you want to what?"

John's words were echoed by Moira's father, in almost the same tone and intonation. If it weren't for the fact that his very life was being risked at that moment, he would have had a much greater appreciation for how very similar Moira's father was in both tone and words.

"The Cabal has shown an aggression against our territory that can be little more than a blatant test of both our defenses and our patience. The place they struck was critical to our infrastructure, irrelevant to theirs, and frequently patrolled by Golden Rose soldiers in addition to its regular guard regiment. The only reasons for this are that they are either planning something worth angering us over or that they are intending to invade something far more precious to us than a mere Enchanter's Vault. Either way, we need to take the initiative and strike out at them before they are able to secure their position and plan for their future strikes against us."

"I agree, but that's no excuse for brashness. You are the Warden of the Golden Rose, Moira - if you give the command, the Order will follow you into hell itself. But surely even you must recognize the dangers of declaring open war on another Abyss faction?"

Lord Brighton's words were calm but firm. It seemed that, although Moira had some kind of hold over him and the rest of the Order of the Golden Rose, he was still more than capable of standing against her wishes if he disagreed with them. John had a lot to learn about their internal politics. All he knew so far was that he might very well be getting dragged into a life-or-**** situation here.

"This is no declaration of war - not by the terms they've set," Moira declared, pointing to a spot on a map that as far as John could tell was an ordinary map of Springfield, without any particular differences, except that various areas were circled in markers, pens, and even colored pencil occasionally, each circle colored in - sometimes overlapping with the different colors crosshatched over each other.

"How can you say that?"

"Because," Moira explained testily, "if they think that owning Chang's Market is enough to justify a takeover of our barrier that encompasses the northern wall of that market, then shutting down a known production of Foriian Dust less than a full mile from our established borders is well within our rights."

John sat back, not saying anything. To be completely honest, even after Moira had explained that Foriian Dust was a tool used to erase memories, he had yet to see why it was such a terrible thing that it justified going to war over it. From the sound of Lord Brighton's voice, he agreed wholeheartedly. All John could think about was what kind of trouble Seras was getting into… with such short notice, all he'd been able to do was get Seras deeper within the park to hide. She'd nearly had a panic attack when he told her she had to wait there… he wasn't entirely convinced she wouldn't be found, either. But before he could think up anything more safe, he'd heard the approaching sound of Moira's motorcycle, and that was that. He was just grateful she hadn't somehow sensed Seras' presence.

"You know that's not true as well as I do. You even told this boy we were declaring war when you were on the phone, or did you think that I was too busy to notice?"

Moira's cheeks visibly reddened, but she showed no other signs of her embarrassment at being called out as she was by her father. Instead, she gestured even more pointedly to the place on the map she had singled out, somewhere just south of Springfield's Chinatown, and let her embarrassment turn to anger.

"We have let them get away with too much for too long. They think themselves simultaneously below our notice and above our authority. The Cabal will continue to make these incursions onto our territory until we show them that there are consequences to their reckless and overconfident acts!"

"And we will," Moira's father said firmly, "but we should do so through proper channels and methods. We cannot afford an extended conflict with Abyssal creatures being sent by a mage we have no information on appearing at all corners of our territory, so we must strike tactically. A raid of their storages at the eastern front will supply us for any future encounters and tame their ambitions for now, and future contact through the local branch of the Abyssal Council will-"

"Do absolutely nothing," Moira countered, slamming her fist down. "The Abyssal Council hopes that we kill each other off so that they have a good reason to bring in their Enforcers and declare this entire town an official Council territory. They've been hungry for expansion these past few years, and I won't let them have it over the corpses of the Golden Rose."

"Be that as it may," Lord Brighton said, "that's exactly what you'll be doing if you go to war. The Cabal has many arms, and we cannot predict the reach of all of them. If we are too aggressive, we may find a knife in our backsides, and even that is assuming these light-blasted monstrosities don't keep showing up within our borders."

"John?"

The sound of his own name startled John, causing him to jump slightly before turning back to Moira. Her indignation and embarrassment had faded to the back momentarily, her face a mask of emotions he couldn't read, although he thought she looked almost… hopeful.

"Yes, Moira?"

"You are a neutral party. You know very little of either organization, only what has happened. What would you do?"

"I- uh, well-"

"Moira, asking one who has not even passed a full week since he agreed to align himself with us to advise on a matter this important is sheer lunacy! He knows nothing of the intricacies of Abyss politics or of the effects a battle of this nature could have-"

"Which is why his opinion is closest to pure," Moira said, interrupting her father by holding up a hand. "He knows nothing of consequences or politicking, only what he feels is right, and what he feels is wrong, as well as what seems smart or foolish. We serve Gaia, and she will watch over us so long as our path is just. Tell me, John - with enemies at our doors, what is the proper response?"

"I- you said the territory they attacked was lightly guarded, right? I think Lord Brighton mentioned it was used for refinement, but you didn't say what."

Moira nodded her head, but otherwise gave no further information to John. Lord Brighton himself seemed exasperated, but in his own way stayed quiet and thoughtful as John spoke.

"You say the Cabal is powerful… I don't have any idea how you two compare, but I have to guess that an organization like this can hold its own in a fight. The only reason I would want to attack an organization like you is if I thought I had no chance of losing or if the rewards for a win were so great they made the risk of a loss seem insignificant. Unless this 'Cabal' is so powerful they could defeat all of you with minimal losses, they must truly need whatever you were refining. What is it, and what could they use it for?"

Moira made a sound of disapproval shaking her head. "Nearly anything. The facility in question is a place where Arcane Dust is created by some of our most skilled Enchanters - it's almost more of a source of magical power than a specific ingredient. We use the stuff by the pound, sometimes by the ton, depending on what we're doing. It's one of the most basic ingredients used in magical recipes and formulas, and almost anyone can create it."

"Which is why it's so baffling they would anger us to obtain more of it," Lord Brighton said, putting a hand to his chin as he stared at the map. "The stockpiles awaiting shipment there were large, but not significant. Given a few months, maybe less, the Cabal could've easily created that much."

John paused, putting a hand to his temple. He tried to think back over every game he had ever played - every plot, good or bad, and every evil scheme that any villain had tried to pull off, no matter how outrageous or how foolhardy.

"Then… either the Cabal needs that Arcane Dust within a timeframe they can't meet on their own," John began, looking between Moira and her father, "or they have another goal - something of value in the place they overtook that either you don't know about or you don't see as valuable. That, or they just wanted to piss you off because they're actually hoping for a war."

"He has a good head on his shoulders," Lord Brighton said, glancing over at John before returning his gaze to Moira. "I'm sure he also knows that attacking their Foriian Dust production facility counters none of those goals! If we assume one of his reasons is true, it either strikes at something they have no pressing need for, ignores the value they've gained from their attack, or potentially starts a war they're more prepared for than we are!"

"Why don't you just take back the facility?"

John's question may as well have been if Santa was truly real, for the Brightons gave him the look of a child entering the room during a budgeting conversation between parents.

"John, we can't simply take back the facility. It was gifted to us through an old alliance, one which is no longer standing. We have no proper claim to the lands, at least none that is stronger than even their flimsy territory claim. Even having been in possession of the lands only a few short hours ago, if we were to attack them now, they would call all their allies to defend 'their' territory from a hostile invasion; something we didn't have time to do. Even if we call our allies, many will use our lack of proper claim to the land as excuse to not join and put themselves at risk."

"Sounds like you need better allies," John said quietly, staring at the map again, although he couldn't help but notice Moira smirking in his peripheral vision.

"As I was saying," Moira said, "we should press our own claims. That Foriian Dust factory is on land our recent ancestors held, and which was taken from them after the Order was weakened following their victory over the Necromantic Cults of the southern-"

"What about here?"

John's words froze Moira and her father before they could enter their heated debate again. John's words were innocent and vague, but his finger was pointed at a very specific patch of land on the northern edge of the Brighton territory. He had finally studied the legend long enough between their frantic exchanges to understand a bit more of what the circles meant, and so he had finally identified some territory that the Cabal controlled that was bordering them.

"That?" Moira said, glancing over the square disinterestedly. "That's just a cul-de-sac that a few of their higher-ranking members control. It's an old barracks that they refused to trade or barter over to us when the Order of the Golden Rose first expanded into Springfield and began to grow its territory. Now they house some of their more elite warriors there. It's a highly-guarded area with no tactical value."

"But it's inside of Brighton territory, the street reaches nearly a third of the way into your markings here, and it's the only part that extends like that," John said, pointing it out. "I don’t know about heritage and proper claims, but I've played Crusader Kings a bit - what about a claim on the land de jure? You own all the land around it except for a ten-foot wide strip that extends almost a quarter-mile into your territory. They just attacked one of your magical facilities, one that's way more valuable than a barracks it sounds like, even if you say it's basic. It's what, two miles from here? You should have the right to secure your territory against a group that just attacked you."

"A pair of fresh eyes may be just what we needed, boy. That section of the map has been violet so long I didn't even imagine it in the Order's gold! It won't be easy, of course, since so many of their highest reside there, but if we can take it…"

Moira's own eyes were almost aglitter with possibilities. "We can accomplish all our goals at once! We can ensure the Cabal knows we're dangerous enough to not aggravate, we secure our borders and make them far easier to defend against the Cabal and against this mysterious mage sending his creatures against us, and we have a valid claim that will throw the Cabal off balance long enough to evade counterattack while we investigate what they really wanted with a production facility for Arcane Dust!"

"Brilliant, really," Lord Brighton said, clasping John's shoulder with an open hand. "How much wonder a fresh perspective can bring. Now, for the most important part - are you ready?"

"R-ready?" John asked, glancing up, "For what?"

"Boy, why do you think we called you here?" Despite all his praise, Moira's father was looking at John with a look of disbelief and impatience, mild as they were. "We have put a great deal of effort in bringing your home into our territory and surrounding it with our wards. When we move - and it may be tomorrow, or a week from today - we expect you to honor our loyalty with your own. I want you on the front lines. I know you're new to all this, we don't expect you to do everything yourself, but I intend to have you trained and ready to aid in whatever ways you can when we strike against the Cabal. Whether that's healing the wounded or fighting on the front lines, well… all I ask is each man's best and not an ounce of effort less!"

John's heart couldn't tell whether it was supposed to pound itself out of his chest or freeze in place.