15. Returning To Command

Chapter 15 – Returning to Command

It had been one day since Orianna's awakening, and word traveled fast. For all her metallic awkwardness, the robotic lady warmed up to people quicker than most predicted—especially when they learned of her past suffering. It was Vi, though, who seemed drawn to her most of all. No one quite knew what those two whispered about in corners, but they were seen clinging to each other often enough in the last twenty-four hours that Powder grew visibly jealous. Ashryn made a quiet note: Orianna making Vi whisper was a minor miracle in itself—getting that loudmouth to keep secrets wasn't easy.

It had been two years since Ashryn last stood at the heart of Virelle's council chambers as its undisputed sovereign. The world spun on without her, and now she needed to catch up, fast. That was the point of this meeting—to clear the backlog, reset priorities, and set the city's course anew.

Ashryn entered with her trademark sly smile, scanning each familiar face before stepping up to the dais.

"Well. Miss me?"

The room relaxed by degrees, tension breaking into a mix of half-laughs and tired smiles. Even Lynne, worn from years of keeping the machinery running, let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. But there was little mercy for nostalgia. The world beyond these walls was already calling, loud and insistent.

Ashryn wasted no time. She swept through the essential stats: the city's population stable, criminal cases leveling off, infrastructure finally reaching maturity after years in infancy. The legal system, once little more than an experiment, had found its place; the city's bureaucracy now ran with the efficiency of a well-tuned automaton. People had grown accustomed to their work and their routines. The spies sent from Piltover, Noxus, and beyond? Most had been quietly caught, with a few magical interlopers among them—though thankfully, none as deadly as the first.

But three issues now towered above the tide of daily news:

First: unrest in Piltover. Ambessa and Camille had channeled the city's fear and frustration, blaming Virelle for Mel's disappearance. Tensions at the border snapped tighter each week, one ugly rumor away from bringing war.

Second: Virelle itself was now changed in ways subtle but profound. The citywide rollout of mana detectors—an unparalleled logistical feat—had uncovered a surprising number of mages among the population. Most had hidden their powers as best they could or didn't realize what they were; now, under quiet surveillance, their fate awaited Ashryn's decision.

And third: Ionia. The old mystic land had reclaimed every border Noxus once held, doing so quietly, almost bloodlessly. Instead of retaliation, they sent Virelle a politely worded formal request: Irelia herself wanted to visit. Ionia admired Virelle's nonlethal weapons, hinting at an alliance of mutual benefit.

Ashryn's fingers drummed gently on the tabletop as Jarvis summarized the latest from the city's analysts, and her advisors weighed in. The Piltover crisis was no surprise to her—Ambessa always thrived in chaos, and Mel's disappearance had inevitably triggered a wave of anger. Years earlier, when Ashryn had deduced that the Black Rose was behind the infiltration, she'd suspected a domino effect: Mel's kidnapping, the stirring of Piltover's old wounds, and Ambessa provoking trouble. But back then Orianna is priority.

She glanced down at her own notes, mind churning. If things unfolded as canon, Mel would only return after awakening her magic, and Virelle—the experimental city—would be caught between giants. Both Noxus and Ionia had more champions, more muscle, more history than Piltover or Zaun ever had. For now, only Ambessa was here from Noxus, but it was only a matter of time before other generals came knocking. That, too, was why strengthening relations with Ionia mattered. And she focused on Orianna.

But for Ionia to not only push out Noxus but do so quietly, then immediately seek friendship and technology? That made even Ashryn surprised.

Did Swain not return? Or is Noxus on the edge of civil war? she wondered, uncertain what the future held. The old king being replaced was just a matter of time. Either way, unless Noxus came with all its might, the audience with Irelia would have to wait.

Piltover came first.

She turned to more immediate problems. With the detectors, some citizens had discovered they were mages—hidden gifts, revealed by the city's new eyes. Most were terrified, not just of discovery but of what it might mean for their families and future. What was the right path? Ashryn let the council wrestle with the ideas.

She faced Lynne, whose cautious eyes met hers.

"Draft a special constitution for mages. Civil and cultural privileges if they register—access to our magic archives, a basic stipend, protection, the chance to help with research, and standing in the community. Their duties: register their mana signature, avoid public magic, cooperate with security. Those who register, surveillance is lifted. Those who don't—well, keep a quiet watch, no pressure."

Lynne hesitated, gaze shifting from Ashryn to the row of silent officials. "Ashryn, isn't this how a class system starts? A select few, privileges the rest don't get. Are we sure it's right?"

Ashryn's smile this time was gentle but worn. "Class systems, Lynne, are just another way to manage complexity. It's all about the management, not the structure itself. We offer only civil and cultural privileges—not money, legal immunity, or special security. If a mage breaks the law, they pay the price like anyone else. We don't reward the undeserving; we encourage people to grow and help. Our city's resources are finite. We can't—and shouldn't—spoil the whole population. Without something to strive for, people stagnate. Someday, different classes will be reality here; our job is to make sure those differences motivate, not oppress. Wants, not needs—that's what civil and cultural privilege is for."

Her voice dropped as she fixed Lynne with a serious look. "Never—never—give legal privilege. That's how corruption gets in. The only people here with that right are you, me, Cael, and Viktor. Not Sevika. Not Callum. Not even our descendants. That's why I chose—recruited—you."

Cael, as ever, chimed in with unease. "But will privilege for mages motivate anyone except those born mages?"

Ashryn cocked an eyebrow, pausing to stare him down. "You still think only the gifted can become mages?"

When Cael hesitated, she continued, "Anyone with some talent and enough work can become a mage. These privileges motivate people to chase that path, strive to learn, to innovate—even if most can't train yet. I want to include mage training in our academy, but we're not there yet. Our economy relies on tech exports, and most can't afford full-time education. Even teachers have to eat. When the time's right, we'll expand. For now, these privileges are hope for tomorrow, not just reward for today."

She drew a breath, scanning the council. "Any other questions?" She waited, but none objected.

"Then let's move. Lynne, draft the announcement and launch the registry. Callum, remove surveillance from those registered, but keep a gentle watch on the rest. Cael, organize staff briefings and prep."

She looked around with steel in her eyes. "Now for Piltover—this requires a personal visit. Me, Sevika, Orianna, Cael, and Vi will go. Lynne, Callum, you keep the city safe. Prepare for the worst: Piltover and Noxus might come for us together. We plan as if that's tomorrow."

Lynne's mouth tightened, but she nodded. The implication settled into the room like a heavy stone, but no one flinched.

As the meeting adjourned, the councilors rose, exchanging measured glances weighed down by the gravity of what lay ahead. Ashryn lingered a moment, her gaze sweeping over the gathered team — seasoned, tired, ready.

Outside the tall windows, Virelle's streets buzzed with cautious anticipation. The city was awake, alive with uncertainty and possibility.

Ashryn exhaled slowly, a quiet resolve settling in her chest. The path forward would be hard, but this time, they were ready to meet it head-on.

With one last look at her team, she turned and stepped away, leaving the chamber — and the future — in motion.

End of Chapter