Helena: When Saras is gone, I take a seat in my office and attempt to contact the Prince General by means of his Trump.

Julian: Julian answers fairly promptly, and immediately you feel him gird up for psychic combat, although he does not initiate anything yet. When you do not attack him immediately, nothing changes in the set of his eyes, but he un-clenches his jaw long enough to say, "You are braver than I thought, or a greater fool than I could have imagined. Since you must know that I could kill you now with none the wiser, you must believe that what you have to say is very important. Speak, Golem... but do not test my patience."

Helena: "I simply wished to let you know that many matters between us have been resolved. I have learned more of the meaning of your words, and trust my actions and yours to be the guide between us in the future."

Julian: Dripping sarcasm, "As pleased as I am to hear that you have found resolution, I am not so satisfied. Much as I would like to have things over between us, you still breathe, which leaves me rather unavenged. If you wish to continue savoring the King's peace, silence would serve you best." He speaks a word of Power, and the Trump connection breaks.

The aftermath leaves you wondering what he's trying to cover with all that anger.

Helena: His breaking of the Trump connection interrupted my acceding nod, and so I am left blinking for a moment. It is no less nor more than I expected, however, so I shake that off pretty quickly. I put that Trump aside and concentrate on the card for the Lord General.

Benedict: A short pause, and then a connection. He regards you squarely, with the crisp formality you have come to expect. "Ambassador," your title sounding only in the faintest way like a question.

Helena: "Lord General." I nod. "My positions are confirmed with regard to the both my House and the Empire.

Benedict: His nod might be broadly interpreted as some form of congratulations.

Helena: "I am in contact, however, because of some... medical issues that have arisen. I believe you may have information that could lead to a quicker resolution of those issues." I hold up one of the stills of the woman's form that represents the creature that inhabited my mother and then me. "Do you recognize this being, or who shaped her?"

Benedict: "The original was an acquaintance of mine," said straight, but somehow implying a far more intimate relationship. "She became compromised," and some very small shift in his voice indicates that he resolved her compromise personally and very finally. "A talented young woman made use of her visage in an act of espionage early in the War. I learned later that she was my great-granddaughter, your mother." He pauses, briefly, but it seems jarring coming from such a precise man. "Her talent was such that I did not recognize her when I uncovered her ruse."

Was there an... apology in that statement?

Helena: I look down, away from him a moment, then look back. "In the present day, then, the form would be a copy of my mother's copy?"

Benedict: "Unless there were intervening iterations that I am not aware of." You feel his gaze dip slightly as you look away, but no comment appears forthcoming. "I was assured during the Treaty signing that such activities were at an end. Has something changed?"

Helena: "Not in that regard, no. Resolved further, I believe. The picture is of a being... an artifact of my mother's torture. She has not been well, and a crisis came up while I was here. The being left her for me, and from me we were able to remove it and isolate it. Frankly, Lord General, I am trying to determine if this thing is a complete being subject to Chaosian law -- any law, for that matter -- or if it is incomplete and should simply be destroyed. If you have thoughts on that, I would appreciate hearing them."

Benedict: "I am familiar with Julian's methods, and such a being would not be the result. I understood your mother's guise to be a product of her own skills, remarkable as it was. I did not expect her to survive her injuries, so I did not pursue an exhaustive inquiry." After a conversational pause, "Whatever this 'being' is, it falls to you and yours to determine its fate," spoken with no particular emotional context.

Helena: "As you say. Thank you for your information." When he indicates he is done I will end the call, sit back, and think a few minutes.

Finally I will edit the discs to remove other images of the being, though I am keeping the print of the still.

GM: Are you taking the time to edit in footage to fill in the blanks, or just cutting?

Helena: As the previous and following points just show the empty office, empty outdoors, etc. I just allow the computer to extrapolate the change from before to after (slight change in angle / brightness of light, trees waving, etc.), and let it fill in the time stamps, and so on. Since my terminal is the only one that can edit, if someone were to ask about the editing they'd have to ask me. But I was quite good at this kind of business, so I feel reasonably confident in what I do here. Besides, no one has any reason to look at these discs, and they'll be recycled in a week or so.

GM: You have every confidence that no one will be the wiser unless they go to ridiculous lengths based on inside information.

Helena: Then I Trump Loren.

Loren: There is a longish delay before your father answers, and then you see him as he finishes smoothing down his robe, his face glowing with signs of recent exertion. "Ah, Helena! What news?" He seems somewhat relieved that it's you, although some color rises to his cheeks all the same.

Helena: I smile and blush a little myself. "We had some luck with the... being that had passed from Mother to me. Knight Protector Essen thinks he has her isolated. Frankly I'm trying to determine what to do with her. I'm afraid that given her... developmental environment and her connection to some things Chaos would rather not have known, she will have to be destroyed. But I would like your guidance in the matter. It is possible she could be a resource, and given that she is now captured it would be contrary to our usual policy to execute her. Do you have some time later today? The Knight Protector plans to return at the end of this turning."

Loren: "I, uh... I could persuade your mother to wait a while, I'm sure, under the circumstances. I'll arrive on foot in an hour or so, if that will suffice." He shifts to demon-form to better cover his blush.

Helena: I smile. "Take your time. I could reasonably take more rest before you arrive.

"For me, medically, there was some damage done during her removal. It will be some time before I am completely myself again, but we are confident I will recover fully."

GM: (Is Helena still in the robe from breakfast? I've been presuming that you're been using the desk for 'cover' thus far.)

Helena: (She is still in her robe, and is sitting at her desk, but she has not particularly been at pains to hide herself.)

GM: (Then you are fairly certain that Benedict has a strong grasp of at least what some of the physical symptoms of your 'medical situation' might entail. As for Julian, you can't be sure what he might have bothered to notice mid-rant.)

Helena: (Given I'm wearing a robe, I presume unless he was staring directly at my breasts while ranting that at least Julian didn't notice much different, but again, I wasn't at pains to hide it.)

GM: (The difference is dramatic, but they're not right under your chin, so yeah, he probably missed it completely.)

Loren: "How badly hurt are you?" he asks, fatherly concern taking over, and you hear Alma asking after you in the background.

Helena: "Damage to my shifting, some things I can't access. It was more startling than anything I suppose. My form was compromised. It is the Knight Protector's work that I am at all recognizable at the moment. He assures me that the blocks will pass soon, however."

Loren: Slightly less worried, "At least that is good news."

Alma collides with Loren playfully, looking all the world like a teenager fresh from the backseat of a car as she gently presses into the Trump contact. "You'd best let him go now, Helena, because if I get my hooks in him again, he'll not be seen for a while." Loren's blush now radiates through his demon-form. In as dignified a manner as he can fake at the moment, "As she says...." He put his arm around Alma and kisses the top of her head.

(By this point, your face has cleared most of the bruised and puffy look, although your jaw still aches.)

Alma takes a second look at you and giggles. "If Saras has her looking like that, clearly she isn't too badly hurt." It is as if she has no recollection of such a form, and merely thinks that you're 'dressed up' as part of some bedroom game with Saras. As your taste runs toward maturity in men, I don't imagine such things are much a staple of Helena's romantic entanglements, unless you think otherwise.

Helena: uh, no. Not.

Loren: After a quizzical look that seems to indicate he doesn't recognize that {pillow woman} figure either, Loren says simply, "We will shower, and then I will head to your Ways. Rest as you see fit, and I will wake you when I get there." As he waits for the contact to break, you imagine from their demeanor that you have more than an hour.

Helena: I nod, "Thank you," and release the contact. Then I try to relax. A little more reading; I'll even pick up a fiction book from my shelves -- something I've read before that I like -- a glass of brandy in the sun. I may doze, but I imagine I'm really too keyed up. Even a couple of hours passes pretty quickly.

Loren: Loren arrives about two hours after you broke contact, approaching from the wilderness path, directly to your warm spot on the patio. He has a bit of a walk to get to you, and by the time he arrives he's obliged to say, "Might I assume that your current form is not some amusement for our Mister Essen?" If you put the book aside, he offers you a hand up, both out of politeness and to get a more clinical look at you.

(Just for my visual, is the robe silk, terrycloth, or something else?)

Helena: (A gold organdy over-wrap covers an opaque dark blue silk robe.)

I accept his hand and stand, posing back from him, arms out, so that he can see the main outline of the changes. "Ah, no, fine gentleman though he is. The work of the evening interfered somewhat in our getting to know one another more socially." I have an image of the full form the being took that I can show you."

Loren: Loren tsks slightly, out of concern for your dignity perhaps, but otherwise is far more affected by the relief of seeing you moving without pain. To put you more at ease, he shifts to human-form. "Please," he says, following your lead.

Helena: Setting those down on the counter, I take him over to the dining table where I left the photo in a folder after coming in from the office. "The Lord General recognized the form immediately," I say as I show the photo to Loren.

Loren: "I don't think I've ever seen that face, but your mother had hair like that when I came to claim her for burial. I wanted to deny that it was her beneath the shattered mask of her face, but she opened her eyes, and I knew...." He pales to remember that day. After a brief pause to collect himself, "This was in her?"

Helena: I nod. "I gather it was the form she took for her mission. Whatever thing was summoned or created by her pain, it kept that form for its identity. It claims to have been conceived at the same time that I was. Given what she must have been going through, I believe it." While my voice carries the cadence of an informational report, I'm afraid my expression belies my own anger and some small reflection of Alma's pain.

Suddenly I blurt out, "If I could find the <misbegotten traitor> in Chaos who was taken in by the Mad Prince, I would kill him and all his House to pay them for what they did to us. That we went to this war on the back of ..." I am practically vibrating with old and sudden rage, but I shut my mouth and breathe until I am still and distant again.

Loren: Loren fights not to echo your tirade, stiffening visibly, not allowing himself the first word in fear of what his last word might be.

Helena: I swallow, both physically and emotionally. "The being's consciousness is held for now. It asks for a form, but I cannot believe it is a whole creature, born and raised as it was only on bitterness. I fear what it would be if it were released on its own. On the other hand its knowledge might be useful, if only of historic interest.

Loren: Very clinically, as if your earlier outburst had never taken place, "If your recovery is not as complete as you hope, it may have knowledge of more than 'historic interest'."

Helena: I nod, shortly.

"If it were a demon, or some other summoned or artificial consciousness, what would be our stance? The precedents seem to differ from House to House, and are little followed in any formal sense even within the Houses."

Loren: "I believe that the official stance of Jesby is that a consciousness summoned or created for a criminal act is summarily destroyed, while an entity created by a criminal act is evaluated for rehabilitation. While the JRS would certainly see it destroyed, I feel our justices would offer it a chance. We are in a poor position to actually have its case heard... but I would risk letting it live, rather than let that act kill one more soul." His shoulders slump as he says this, as if finding release in this small admission of how much he has lost.

Helena: "Then how would you suggest I put it in the Justices' hands? The Knight Protector currently has it confined, and, I believe, portable."

Loren: "If you believe you will not need its council, I believe I can use the shift of attention your return to Amber will draw to get its case heard. But, if you feel it still holds you hostage in some way, I would have you take it as far from here as possible. I leave the decision to you, as the risk is more yours than anyone else's in the end."

Helena: "I will ask the Knight Protector's counsel. I don't feel any further connection to the creature, but he will have seen more than I in his interaction with it."

Loren: "Saras has a fairly level head... or at least far less investment than any of us. That seems prudent. Perhaps you should remain in seclusion until you have made a decision, though, to keep our options as open as possible."

Helena: "I will."

I shake my head, and then look up, changing the subject. "I take it Mother continues well? It is a joy that is hard to trust, but I feel there has been a true improvement in her condition, one that will last even as she may go up and down in her acceptance of it."

Loren: He smiles, treating that as his answer for a moment. Finally, "I... I agree. Parts of me scream to brace for some terrible crash, but... my heart is convinced that she is free." He draws you into the circle of his arms, adjusting slightly to hug the new you. Spoken into the nape of your neck, not parting the warm embrace in the slightest, "I would not trade you for her, but..." He leaves that thought unfinished. "I love you. Please... be safe."

Helena: "That I can't promise," I smile into his shoulder at the familiar parting, "but I promise to be well." I stand back from him, ending the embrace before he does. "I will remain at home until I have more news for you. Perhaps..." I have a sudden thought, on a totally different topic, "perhaps you might see about an announcement from about my ambassadorship from His Majesty's government to that of King Random. It would explain my delays here, if we are awaiting their official response. And our people already working on the trade embassy offices can be urged to continue their work."

Loren: As he parts from you, with some of his formality back in place, "I am certain that work proceeds apace, but they miss your leadership, no doubt. The announcement idea is a good one, and I should hope fairly easily done, as you have already earned us King Merlin's ear." After a moment's thought, "I will Trump you when it is arranged." Smirking softly, "If I interrupt something, I will try to be as diplomatic as you were." He bows and takes his leave.

Helena: I return Father's bow, pleased we have some constructive action to take, even if mine is to wait while he takes it.

I will get out a pair of my swords, the heavy old ones I used to use to practice against the strain of fatigue or changed gravity or an opponent's strength. I will retire with them to the bowl of black sands and begin to work in this... unfortunate body. My skill, my sense of myself is not gone. I have trained against worse handicaps. I will defeat this a bit at a time.

It is distracting that my <donor's> face is on the back of my eyelids. I know Alma's goal, the mission she was given, was something else. I know if she'd behaved differently I would not exist. But how much different would things have been if she had just put her hand into the center of his heart and made a fist, instead of fighting just to keep his seed?

The fucking awkwardness of this body causes me to overcompensate for distance around my torso, and I keep forgetting how short my arms are. I keep nicking myself across the top of my forward thigh as I lunge under the downswipe, and on my inner left arm as I come up out of it. But I can at least keep the speed; the whistle of the blades is at its familiar tenor and tempo.