To: Fleur de Tuber Ambassador
Classification : Confidential - Not for official archiving

Subject: Company activityConcierge Services"inconsistencies and weak signals

• Present at Flasco Frigo (declared manager) on site: a priori harmless escort mission.
  → Abnormal observation: Flasco personally receives a low-profile engineer. Blatant mismatch with his status
• .Cains TryckersaysVent-dru"
  → Old specialist engineer (propellers, distillation, fermentation).
  → Local reputation, work only in the Lakes.
  → Never left his region, serving local tribes
• .Convoy contents :
  → Identified components :
  • Gears
  • Turbine parts
  • Parts of an industrial still
  → No conventional machine requires these elements simultaneously, except for devices for production or processing.
• Inconsistencies in "Concierge Services" :
  → Increase in "off-catalogue" orders.
  → Informal recruitment.
  → Workers engaged briefly then disappeared.
  → Profiles: isolated, various trades (carpentry, mechanics, crystal)
• .Questionable history :
  → Flasco Frigo is a compulsive gambler.
  → Liabilities: +900,000 dappers.
  → Creditors linked to "asset reclaimers" (cf. old files Gha'an-K).
• Indirect connection: Sylede - Flasco?
  → Several creditors are linked to Sylede.
  → The latter distinguished himself at the christening of the heir's daughter.
  

End of report.
R.P.6. / Cellule P-FL (Petit Frippo, 6th district)

Instruction : Waiting for our Father's guidance.

"Review Gha'an-K files.
Profile the unknown Matis.
Keep track of recent movements at Concierge Services.
Don't tell O'Tall...yet."

- "You're an emotional parasite.
A useless relic.
You're slowing me down."

- You are the loophole through which they always enter.
You're the voice that doubts when it's time to act.
You're the one who hesitates when it's time to kill.
You're putting Lea in danger.
You put all in danger."

At the time, the Kingdom was questioning its organization, the place of the nobility and its role for the forest people. Karan Stevano had launched a kind of consultation among his subjects, and had promoted a number of deserving matis to renew the governing bodies. Duke, like the others, had the privilege of giving his opinion directly to Duke Rodi di Varello at an assembly in Avalae.
He had already made great progress thanks to the Firm, and was involved in the Kingdom's affairs with the enthusiasm of youth. It was thus that he was proposed for ennoblement in Stevano by Zakarya di Avalae, known as Zakkk, the wise old ruler of his House.
He presented himself as best he could, given the embarrassment he felt, knowing he was still so far from his masters and teachers, and the excellence he was aiming for himself. "A humble matis, now that's something!" the Karan had said. But for Duke it was mostly realism, there was still so much to accomplish...
Then came the chance to represent the Kingdom before the Theocracy, an opportunity for filira Ducocinnio Nono to respond to the Karan's trust, and for the new nobleman to prove his worth...

Son,

By the time you read this letter, I'll have left via the Oflovak Road for the Old Lands. I'll be going to the desert of yesteryear, in the footsteps of a vanished Empire.
But first, I wanted to tell you a few things. I don't think you'll want to talk to me, so I'll put it in writing. Maybe it's better that way after all. So, if you don't want to listen to me, just throw this letter away immediately.

Are you staying? I'm fine. First of all, I'd like to talk to you about your mother. I know you didn't hold her close to your heart. But there are three things I learned from her.
Firstly, she taught me how to fight without saving myself. She really was the most gifted fighter, a real fury. I think Lyren inherited something from her. That animal instinct, that rage to win at all costs. When the stakes are high, sometimes you have to take all the risks.
Then she made me realize that there's a difference between lying and withholding the truth. All truths are good to tell to those you love. But sometimes, there are truths that need to be kept secret for a while. Even if it eats you up inside. For the sake of our loved ones.
Finally, your mother taught me that the road to truth is paved with horrible things. Your mother did a lot of bad things, but always with a good purpose. I'm not going to tell you about her experiences with the frippos she described to me, it's not the kind of thing you put down in writing. But I do know that she always had the quest for knowledge in mind.

I think you know what I mean when I tell you about your mother's qualities. Of course, I'm talking about her sacrifice. I didn't try to explain what I'd done at my trial. No one was really willing to hear the truth. Only Pephoan Kridix listened to me in my cell. I should have trusted him from the start. So in this letter, I'm going to tell this truth to you, my son. The cult of fyrak is the antithesis of fyros culture. They do not seek to fight the dragon, but to awaken it. To do so, they sacrifice homins. And they infiltrate all aspects of Fyros society. Don't think they're content to live in the depths and come out from time to time to kill someone. No, most adepts live in homin societies. Some even have a few responsibilities. You should know that this Pimokos freak, for example, was already high up. He was chief of the Dyron guards. A general! What do you think would have happened if I'd been convicted? He would have become a hero, the one who saved the Emperor. When sharükos died, we might have had a fyrak cultist at the head of the sharük! So, this infiltration probably saved the Empire. But this is the kind of reality we'd rather not see. The sharük is far too sure of its omnipotence to imagine collapsing. And yet, it has never been so weak.

If it takes away my guilt? Of course not. The fact that the cause is just has nothing to do with guilt. For one thing, am I really responsible for your mother's death? Part of me wonders if they captured her on purpose because of me or if she was already their captive. I don't know, and I'll always have this doubt. But you see, someone could certify that she was already their captive before I decided to infiltrate the adepts, and it wouldn't take away this feeling of guilt. For I feel this guilt in the actual killing, in the actual application. You, Lyren, sharükos, no one here, or so few, know what it is to really kill. To kill definitively. So you can imagine that killing one of our dearest loved ones, even if it's for a just cause, is a scar on the soul that stays with us forever. And I take no pride in this scar.

You see, son, I've long thought that we children of the Empire's underbelly were just as honorable as those up above. That we too deserved, by dint of hard work, to experience at first hand the advantages of a life among the elite. But we didn't. Fyros society is such that those who pull their heads out of the sawdust are no different from those who continue to crawl in. You're made to understand this when you dare to get too close to their privileges. You yourself will never be accepted on your own merit. And even if you start from a better starting line than I did at your age, you'll have to fight ten times harder to earn your place. But your place will always be precarious. You'll be an impostor in the eyes of the elite. And in the end, you'll end up doing what society expects you to do. The dirty work. The one without honor, without glory. The thankless job, the one that gives no gratitude. They'll point the finger at you like a murderer, because you dared to do what they wouldn't have dared to do. You'll get nothing. Worse, they'll take away what you've worked so hard to get.

And you see, it doesn't matter. I don't give a damn about their gratitude. I hate them, all of them, these traine-palais, these born goods. The only recognition I can hope to get is from the hard hearts of the sawdust fyros, like us, like your mother. But they won't say anything. This recognition is silent. Eeri and I were always ready to explode our anger. But when it came to showing gratitude, we were rather quiet. And yet, all it took was one look to understand that we loved and respected each other. That's the look I saw in her eyes before I killed her. It's that look, and only that look, that you can expect from sawdust fyros. But it's worth more than all the honors, all the titles, even more than the sacred fire.
Born of sawdust, we'll return to sawdust. That is our destiny. For a fyros must always fight the smoke that lifts him up to return to the depths to fight the dragon. And in this, we, crawling on the ground, already have a head start.

If you've reached the end of this letter, it's because you've improved your ability to concentrate. I want you to know that I'm proud of you, my son. I may have been a terrible father, but I did it for a good cause. And here again, I don't expect any gratitude from you. Being a father means crawling in the sawdust for the good of your offspring, without expecting anything in return. I love you, never doubt that.

On that note, take good care of your half-sister. Tell her that I forgive her for turning the Fyros legions from the yoke of the Kamis to the yoke of the Karavan. I hope that one day she'll understand that the Powers can be dispensed with, as her father and mother understood so well. And that if she wants revenge for my crime, she shouldn't hesitate to cross the road to Oflovak. I'll be happy to welcome her.

Go, follow your destiny, Uzykos, no matter how rough the path. And remember, son, your courage at every step.

Dad

Deles silam, filira Copal et serae Liosta.

May Jena bring joy and happiness to your little family!

My sincere congratulations and best wishes for the future to this nityae * serae who has just joined you.

Jena aiye !

--Cinabre Andertini--

It will be enough, and I wonder if Copal wasn't right to tell me to hide the manuscript. In fact, the Lucios taken from the manuscripts and the medallion are enough for me, and will be more discreet if spies or the overly insistent pry into the house.
They were certainly antiques, but they're far from valuable, and I couldn't risk losing the originals.
As for the lucios, they're caulked in a jar, under shells I drilled in the jungle.

I note that the agenda for the forthcoming Chamber of Nobles contains no mention of Serae Liosta Frerini's accession to the Nobility. And so much the better: after discussing the matter at length with the serae involved, I'm now certain that she has no desire for such an accession, not out of false modesty, but out of loyalty to her youthful Tryker years.
That's why I've come here to express my gratitude to Your Majesty for not yielding to the request I made on the 17th of Pluvia.

Matis aiye!
--
Nilstilar Thorec
Ambassador of Your Majesty near the Naw Trykoth Federation and (interim) near the Ranger Organization

de: Serae Canillia Altae Di Sylengi
Nindën du Filira Ordre Alkiën
Royal Jeweller

à: Filirae Nirni di Varello
Karaedin


Deles Silam,

It will be an honor to share a chai and benefit from your knowledge of filira art Botanique.
If you like,
I will be accompanied by my private secretary, Serae Léa Cuini.

I'm forever yours.


Serae Canillia Altae Di Sylengi
Nindën du Filira Ordre Alkiën
Royal Jeweller

¹ Bambooka: Zoraï alcohol. Nobody drinks it except the most inebriated, because it hits the skull and rips the throat out without any other quality. Generally used to polish armor.
² Healers of the Soul: how many times have I told you they're not shrinks? But keep thinking that these "shrinks" are interested in Zoraïs' state of mind in order to reduce their drug consumption.

HRP warning: For those who don't already know Ba'Rakha, it may be useful to point out that although truth is a concept he's mastered perfectly, he's completely unconcerned with the subject. He likes to gather information, even if he'll never tell you how (and frankly, you don't want to know), and fiddle with it until the result suits him. In his profession, that's pretty useful, but it's highly inadvisable to consider him a reliable source (at least, if you're not in his line of work). And since neither he nor his boss talk business in front of witnesses, and the vorax don't talk either, you're not aware of what was said that day in the Primes.

Yesterday, I met Canillia at Pecus. She spontaneously confessed that she had gone too far. She had prepared a remedy which she left on the floor before leaving. I asked the guards to burn it. Not that I don't think it's really a remedy, but not only do I no longer need it, I don't want anyone to know that Canillia knows the cure for black sap. I wouldn't want to advertise it to her!

Of course, I know why she came to see me in the first place. She denies it, but I know she's doing it because she's scared. She's probably hoping I'll be merciful? I assure you, Canillia, vengeance is no longer something I condone. But I do like to educate, inculcate I'd say, certain important things in other homins, even if they're Matis. Especially since, thanks to this black sap poisoning, I've found the courage (or madness) to abandon the kami's followers. I'm finally free of the Powers. So now it's my turn to help you. To show you what it's like to live without the Karavan. But I'll let you think about it first. Sometimes it takes a long time to find out...