As I stood in line with the rest of the prospective Ball-goers later that night, I couldn’t help but reach up to touch the thing around my neck.

  My hand was slapped down by a slimmer, much more feminine one before I could do so.

  “Stop fidgeting with it,” Maria hissed at me.

  I pulled a face at her. “It’s so damned uncomfortable, though…”

  That being the odd, kind of ruffled length of cloth tied around my neck and draping down the front of my chest. To me, it looked ridiculous, like some kind of cloth attempt to replicate the frills of a particularly arrogant rooster. But to the Herztalians, it was the absolute peak of refined male fashion. If you weren’t wearing one of these blasted things, you were considered underdressed for formal events.

  God, I hated it. Not only was it goofy-looking to me, but it was uncomfortable, too. What I wouldn’t give for a good old-fashioned Terran necktie.

  The Ball had yet to formally begin here on the upper tier of Blutstein, and as such, all of the prospective attendees were waiting in line to be let in by the doorman. The courtyard before Kyronkar was absolutely filled to the brim with hundreds and hundreds of well-dressed, well-to-do gentile. From the nobility to the nouveau riche merchant class, it seemed like everyone of means in Blutstein, and even some people from beyond the city, were clamoring to get in. I doubted it was because they were very religious, though, and eager to greet the head of the Gyreite faith. It was a much more…practical religion, I’d say. Gyreism was almost viewed as a form of public service rather than something you specifically believed in. Sure, there were people who did..

  But it was somewhat difficult to have religious faith in the System when it was an everyday fact of life that literally everyone on the planet contended with.

  My Captains and I were standing in line with everyone else, dressed to the nines and looking as presentable as we could. However, Isolde wasn’t currently with the five of us. As an actual member of the royal house, she was currently inside and doing...something. I don't know, dragging Wenzel away from his desk so the taciturn man actually remembered to attend his own party? The plan was for us to link up once the Ball had commenced, the formal welcoming of the Primector was done by Wenzel and Oskar, and then the announcements could get underway.

  Namely, the formation of our Polaris Reach.

  I was wearing the blue and red silk coat I’d been…requested to, as well as the stupid ruffles and a much nicer set of formal clothing under it that what I'd worn at the charter signing. I’d been roped into clothes shopping by Maria and Liora when I met up with them shortly after I left campus this morning. Maria had been an absolute terror when outfitting me, Renauld, Azarus, and Alex. My Gnollish and Dwarven Captains both looked as uncomfortable with their ruffles as I did, while Alex looked perfectly at ease and not at all like he was still technically a homeless vagrant. I guess it made sense, though. The once and current Sparrow had been just as capable of an infiltrator as anyone else in the Division was. He was probably just hiding it.

  I couldn’t imagine anyone actually liking these things.

  However, other than our general put together appearance, the five of us did have something else in common.

  Our armbands.

  Maria had gotten the idea while we were all being rapidly fitted for clothes by a frankly terrifyingly efficient Tailor down in the middle layer. She’d had a very rapid conversation with the middle-aged woman, and in no more than fifteen minutes, she had whipped them up for us. All five of us were wearing a white band of cloth around our right arms, emblazoned with the slightly…adjusted heraldry of the Polaris Reach. The Tailor had bluntly told me my design for the Order was unbalanced and then promptly balanced it.

  I, uh…I wasn’t the best illustrator, I’d admit. I appreciated the abrupt consultation.

  The result was that the previously white broken collar had been darkened and turned on its side instead of resting underneath the compass star. The blue and red star itself was unchanged, and the result almost resembled the construction of a globe, cradled in the now blackened arms of the all too familiar collar.

  It stood out sharply on the arms of our formal wear, signaling our allegiance to what was likely to be our life’s work. That, or the organization that would help facilitate it. We had a sixth one for Isolde when we met up with her.

  Movement in the distance caught my eye, and I saw that the doors to Kyronkar had finally opened, letting warm light spill out into the dark of the night. The low conversation in the courtyard gained an excited element, and the line slowly started to move. My Captains all straightened up, while I…frowned.

  Sylvia still wasn’t here. I would have been able to pick her out of the crowd easily, even with the amount of people filling it. I was…kinda attuned to her presence, I guess. I know she had said she might be a bit late, but…

  I’d been hoping to enter the Ball with our arms around each other.

  Maria must have noticed my disappointment because she outright laughed at me. “Don’t worry, lover boy,” She said, amusement thick in her voice. “She’s coming, I know she is. Just wait a bit longer. What she’s doing is important.”

  I furrowed my brow at her. “Wait, what’s going on??”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The Captain of my Stewards just smiled and shrugged at me, deigning not to answer. My eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Maria wasn’t budging. I eventually shook my head and gave up.

  Women.

  Eventually, the line advanced enough until our group was stopped by the doorman, a particularly well armed and armored member of the Herztalian Army. Most people weren’t being stopped, simply streaming into the massive open doors of the monument, but I understood why I was. His armor was so shiny and decorated with gold accents that I could outright see my reflection in it. Why, the bored-looking soldier even had a whole fan of crimson red feathers on his helmet.

  “Names?” He said, eyes pointedly resting on the sword at my belt. I’d been briefed beforehand that only Knights in particular, due to their martial position within Herztalian society, were allowed to carry weapons in high society events. Nobody else in my retinue would be permitted such a thing.

  “Sir Nathaniel Hart and party,” I said, smiling slightly at the man. To underscore my confidence, I idly rested a hand on the pommel of Terractus.

  The soldier’s eyes flickered down, and I could see it tracing the list of, presumably, high-profile guests.

  I mean, not to brag, but my presence here was meant to be part of Wenzel’s grand plan to lift the mood of the people.

  I saw the instant he found my name on the list. His demeanor was suddenly much more respectful as he bobbed his head. “Please, come in, Sir Hart. The Lord Regent has requested that the crier announce your presence to the Ball.” He turned and nodded to an older, distinguished-looking gentleman wearing the uniform of the Kyronkar servants. He was standing off to the side, just inside of the enormous doors of Kyronkar. The man must have noticed our regard because he raised a thin grey eyebrow our way, his bushy mustache twitching slightly.

  I thought about it for a moment before nodding to both of them. The entire point of my attendance was to draw eyes. It wouldn’t do for me to slip in unnoticed.

  And, Hell. Maybe Sylvia was already inside.

  Hope springs eternal and all that rot.

  As I stepped past the soldier and into the room, the crier nodded to me silently, but didn’t say a word. Presumably, he’d already been briefed about me by his superiors. My companions and I followed both the crier and the crowds streaming through the wide, magically lit corridors of Kyronkar’s lower floor until he abruptly broke off from the tide. Without breaking stride, I followed him up the wide central staircase that led to the second of…many floors. I wasn’t actually sure just how many were in Kyronkar, in truth. My familiarity with the divine monument was lacking, frankly. What I understood was that the main ballroom wasn’t far from the throne room on the groundfloor, but that it in particular was multiple stories tall.

  We followed the man in silence for a few minutes before he eventually stopped before a pair of massive, elaborately carved and decorated double doors guarded by four more Herztalian soldiers. The familiar iconography of the Eisenherz mountain stood out prominently against the deep red of the wood.

  The crier turned to me and bowed slightly at the waist once he came to a halt. “You are the first person to be announced today, Sir Hart. Neither the royal entourage nor the Preceptor are in attendance, as of yet. I shall announce you in a moment, and then I ask that you descend onto the main floor.”

  That was…odd. I knew that Wenzel was aiming for the announcement of our Order to be a big deal, but to allow me and mine to be announced before the guest of honor? Not only that, but before he, Oskar, or Isolde stepped foot in the ballroom?

  What was he playing at?

  I put it out of my mind to smile at the crier. “Of course, Mr…?”

  He bowed again. “Hravik, Sir. Sebastian Hravik. Now, one moment, please.” Hravik turned to the guards and nodded at them. In response, two of them laid hands on the huge double doors and split the mountain right down the center as they opened them. Just on the other side, I could hear the low murmur of conversation, overshadowed by the light performance of what seemed to be a string orchestra. I couldn’t see much of the ballroom itself from my position, only what seemed to be a land on the other side of the doors.

  My party and I stood back patiently as Hravik approached the entrance. I felt the slightest tingle of Mana in the man as the apparent Magi cast a Spell I was familiar with.

  “Announcing!” His voice boomed out into the downright cavernous space of the ball, causing the conversation to quiet. Seemlessly, the orchestra shifted into something more appropriately stately. “Sir Nathaniel Hart and company! Calamity Slayer! Hero of the Construct War, and Savior of Kawamara!”

  ‘Savior of Kawamara’? That was a new one. Not…untrue, but I didn’t know we were going with that epithet. That title must have come straight from Wenzel. I don’t think the River Throne would be too upset about it, considering I wasn’t stated as the one who ultimately slew Tatsugan.

  A low murmur filled the massive open space of the ballroom as Hravik stepped to the side with a sweeping bow. As I stepped up onto the landing of the stairs, I was finally able to get a good look at the actual space below.

  I’d say it was appropriately extravagant for the purposes.

  Unlike most of Kyronkar, the interior wasn’t constructed out of the green and red stone of the monument itself. Similar to the crystal waiting room I’d met Oskar in those months ago, it had been furnished in something else. Namely, what appeared to be a form of marble shot through with inclusions of mithril of all things. The contrasting white and silver of the stone formed the whole of the central dance floor, and even the long staircase along this wall of the hall, stretching out below me. Bearding the room itself was a second floor, extending off to my sides, while on the far side of the room was a raised dais. Upon it were four thrones, all roughly equal in size. One was carved from the familiar sight of Rorician sandstone, with a prominent seven-armed spiral upon the front. The other three almost looked to have been from the same set, all hewn from the sparkling green and red stone that defined Kyronkar itself. Framing the entire stage, and dominating the far wall of the ballroom, were three absolutely enormous, single sheets of clear glass. Through it, I could see not only the lights of the lower layers, but the silver glow of a crescent Elys.

  Dangling from the ceiling were multiple chandeliers that, if I didn’t know any better, might just be larger in sheer size than the lighthouse that I called my home. There were three of them, each constructed of luminescent, obviously magical crystal, bright enough to illuminate the entire hall. As I smiled out at the numerous guests milling around in both the hall and on the banisters, something about their shape tickled my recognition.

  Then I realized what they were meant to be. They were upside down mountains, representing the three that defined Blustein, man-made or natural. The fatter one must be Hengiskar, while the smaller one was Horsaval, and the long, thin one was Kyronkar. I have to admit, seeing such huge masses nearly flying above me was almost vertigo-inducing.

  I shook it off, though, and began descending the staircase. I wasn’t here to admire the scenery. I was, to put it bluntly, here to schmooze.

  As my party and I stepped onto the main floor of the ballroom and commenced the tedious task of accepting empty platitudes from arrogant nobles…

  I got to work.

  Here’s hoping Sylvia showed up soon.

  Otherwise, I’m not sure I had anything to actually look forward to, tonight.