“I’m surprised you’re not freaking out, Han. You don’t exactly have a good track record with glass-fronted elevators and this one even has a glass floor to match.”

My head twitched to the side slightly to offer John a mildly unamused glare before carefully sticking my nose in the air and looking away from him again with a mild huff.

“Shows what you know, John-Boy. It’s not the view that scares me. It’s the workings behind it all. In this case, the glass everything of this little Willy Wonka rip-off quite plainly shows that this thing runs on good old reliable magic instead.”
A little smirk played across my lips and I couldn’t help but cock my hip to the side slightly in the hope of bumping his, no matter how childish the action may actually look if anyone else could see me do it in the relatively tight surroundings of our current all-glass vehicle of choice.
“Not a cable, track or electronic motor in sight. Just glass sliding against glass in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible, carrying a load that’s probably unimaginable, at speeds that are unrealistic, up the length of a tower that looks far too exaggerated in height from here given its external phallic-looking proportions!”

For a long few seconds, no one said anything, although I could feel our guide glaring at me out of the corner of his eye from his current position next to the activation runes all the same which made me want to smile slightly wider on the general principle of me having pissed off my first snobby politician/ass-kisser of the day already.

“The tower really does look like they’re compensating for something, doesn’t it?”
John finally cracked and spoke the sentence he’s obviously been waiting to use since the shape of the tower itself came up in conversation earlier. He followed it up by letting out a happy little laugh and shooting me a mischievous smirk of approval, no doubt simply because I’d finally agreed with him on the annoyingly obvious problem he’d brought up in any tower-like design, despite my earlier scoffing at how unreasonably predictable he was being in making that comparison at all.
“What’s the bet that at least five mages will open a conversation with us today by gloating about how ‘big, wide and impressive’ their tower is, then?”

...That’s a suckers bet!...

“No deal, John-Boy. These lot are mages and politicians, after all. Logically speaking, that’s a lack of common sense mixed with a lifetime’s worth of people kissing up to them, no matter what they say or how they say it. Getting this lot to make blatant comparisons between the tower itself and certain parts of their bodies, with this new body of mine, is going to be like shooting fish in a barrel, sadly.”

John laughed good-naturedly again, and I allowed a slightly sardonic smirk to cross my lips in return before going back to a rather important point, which that only partly joking statement brought to the forefront of my tense mind yet again, unfortunately.

“Whatever you do, John-Boy, don’t leave me alone with these people, okay?”
He snorted in amusement, but I took the chance to nudge him slightly with my good arm so he’d know I was being serious on this one.
“I’m here to do my duty and save America from being magically co-opted by some foreign power, and then we’re all going home. I do not want to face this baying pack of wolves on my own at any point in time, especially with those pathetic assassins presumably hanging around somewhere just waiting to strike out at you in any way they can think of, got it?”

For once, when he turned his head to look at me properly his eyes were serious with understanding as he gave the smallest of nods in response to my thinly veiled request. Naturally, the look didn’t last long and seemingly within moments his posture relaxed once more as he let off a goofy-looking grin in my direction that forced me to glance away quickly, lest I crack and show him that his usual tactics for breaking up tension had worked yet again.
...Annoyingly!...

“How many floors are actually in this thing, anyway?—I swear we’ve been traveling for ages and the skylight at the top still looks miles away.”

No one answered me back on that one, unfortunately. Although I did catch Eris looking upwards slightly and squinting at the tiny square of sunlight above us as if she were trying to gauge for herself if we were actually moving or not. The whole thing made a part of me want to giggle over how cute she can be at times without realising it, even when she’s trying to do something seriously or at least not intentionally ‘maternal coo’-inducing.

“You really don’t want to know, Han...”

I think I agree with you for once, John-Boy! I’m all for abusing magic to make stuff look cool but some people really do take it too far just to make a point about the size of their collective—towers?—beyond reasonable levels of decency even, considering how long this is taking.

I never thought I’d find an elevator that can legitimately be considered a large part of someone’s daily commute before, but here we are, I guess!

Rather than make another comment on the topic at hand, I decided to start being nosy instead, trying to catch glimpses of what may be going on at each floor we passed through the glass-on-glass walls around us, to pass the time more than anything else.
...It’s surprisingly hard to do at these speeds...

Oh, I just saw someone eating a sandwich at his desk!
...Truly enthralling, such important information is entirely worth the effort it took to notice it, I’m sure...
There! A couple making out ‘in secret’, on what appears to be some kind of giant stone photocopier!

…Oh, joy…

======

“Top floor, the Constitutional Flame meeting chamber…”

We really didn’t need the introduction at all, considering we could all see when we finally breached the almost oppressively boring business levels of the tower and burst out into the open sunlight once more, a fact that would be pretty daunting if not for the glass-like flame-shaped dome present between us and the presumably strong winds outside, honestly.

Almost automatically, I turned my head as far as I could around, just to double check and make sure Fena had her helmet on still along with her leathers and light-weight, lace robe, of course. I probably shouldn’t have bothered because she’s not an idiot, luckily, and she most likely had it on for the whole ride up as well but I did worry all the same.

Even if it’s just because I’m not used to having someone I have to worry about bursting into flames at something as simple as brief contact with the sun, of all things, in my life yet I suppose.

With a mildly relieved sigh, I turned my attention back to the real problem in all of this. The admittedly rather pleasant, in an odd way, view of an open blue sky full of fluffy clouds which was more than a little ruined by the grandstand auditorium’s worth of seats and tables in the middle of the room before us, or more specifically the loud and annoying shouting currently coming from the stand’s hundred or so occupants, at least.

I’ve seen inside the Normal Congress before, on TV admittedly, and I can understand that the seating layout with its slightly raised singular front table surrounded by a curving run of opposing seats on slowly rising levels is meant to mirror in some way the ‘actual’ Congress’s layout—but I’m pretty sure the actual, Normal Congress wouldn’t allow its members to shout out and cut across each other quite as obviously as this one apparently does.

My eyes scanned the hundred or so squabbling mages in front of me in disgust as they all carried on without notice to the invaders in their midst. The gender mix was roughly even from the looks of things which is somewhat encouraging, although considering they’ve all grown up under the thumb of Arista, I really didn’t expect gender politics to be a major issue for anyone here in the slightest.

The clothing styles present all tended towards a horribly conservative end of the fashion spectrum. Most of them seeming to border on the absurdly out of date, honestly, although that’s possibly because when not covered by the uniform-looking black robes everyone had either with them or folded neatly on the table before them, everything they owned seemed to be right out of some kind of period drama of some kind.

The few people who weren’t wearing their robes at all consisted of mostly women who were obviously showing off the painfully restrictive looking, long Victorian-style dresses they’d had on underneath. There was also the odd older man or two who appeared to have just settled on rough white shirts and long high-waisted trousers held up by braces, of all things, over using something as common and basic as a belt!

As expected of mages, a lot of the people around us consist of obviously older people in bearing and pose, with relatively young-looking faces that belie their true ages. I’m actually surprised how many truly older looking mages there even are in the room, honestly.

In general, power leads to less visible signs of aging in mages, so seeing someone in the supposed home of the magical elite whose power levels are obviously sub-par at best is a rather strange thing to see, in my opinion. At a guess, I’d have to say that those are probably the ‘deputy of a deputy’ people who are filling in for recently demised former political powerhouses which I will forever publicly deny having anything to do with, even if they were, no doubt, in Arista’s pocket up to this point, thanks to them showing up for her big crater party.

Honestly, I hate to sound like a snob at all, but looking around the room at the odd mix of shouting younger people who seem so sure of themselves and shouting older people who appear more than a little overwhelmed by the fact they are even doing so at times, I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve just walked into the second-string version of our magical government in some way.
...Maybe the third-string or possibly ‘ninth-string’ if that’s a thing, at a stretch...

That’s either a very bad indicator of just how low our government has fallen due to Crater Lake’s apparent politician-culling or, hopefully, more a sign that someone is trying to pull a power play for their own gain. Getting the delegation that includes me to show up for their supposed meeting the moment I get here, instead of letting me get settled in first and meet some of the first-string members of society, so I can realise that these people are basically the bottom-feeders of the political system trying to look big while they still can.
...Sometimes it sucks being the lynchpin to saving the magical world from being torn apart due to a stupid voting rule, of all things...
Too true!

I cringed slightly as I could feel my stomach sink a little at the thought that belatedly settled in my mind as I considered what exactly I’m seeing before me, right now. Despite the second option being far more preferable, and still possible, it’s starting to look like all my hopes of this place being full of the best and brightest of magical society that I can tap for help with Eris’s problems are probably utterly pointless in the long run just on first viewing alone.

I guess there’s only one way for me to really find out for sure in the end?
…If in doubt, piss them off and see what they pull out against you in retaliation!…

They need me way more than I need them right now. The worst that can happen is I have to deal with someone’s hurt ego down the line, which is pretty much par-for-the-course in my life these days. Meanwhile, I might actually gain an idea of what the state of play is around here, if nothing else, even if things go south pretty quickly as they usually seem to do when I’m around.

Now, all I need is a patsy to focus on and pull the trigger on this mess for me, a prospect that’s kinda daunting considering just how many possible targets of obviously questionable intelligence are sitting right here, ready for the taking at any moment, really, so—

“We cannot trust this new girl! She’s come from nowhere. She’s obviously a plant from a foreign nation with how quickly she’s grown in power, prestige and notoriety. She’s been nominated by Maxarimus of all people, and we all know how much that man likes to mess with things he shouldn’t for his own amusement!”

…Well, sounds like that’s our cue...

My eyes cut to the side so I could shoot John a mildly amused but mostly exasperated look, which he returned with interest as it became pretty obvious that both of our reputations, or lack of one in my case, have preceded us.

“Thor vouches for her. He claims Maxarimus has turned over a new leaf in order to help guide Lady Arista’s newest child.”

That statement seemed to make things even worse in the overly bright chamber sadly, with people outright laughing derisively in disbelief at the poor guy who’d made the point.

“Thor is wise and powerful, but he has a soft heart. He will believe anything good told to him about his brother if it has even an ounce of truth to it!”
The man speaking seemed to practically inflate as he spoke with an angry, almost bitter edge to his booming voice which really grated on my nerves for some reason.
…Bingo! Think we’ve found our pompous asshole...
“For all we know, Maxarimus was probably just taking the girl under his wing to better satiate himself on her like one of his many whores and concubines of old!”

Yet again the room exploded in outraged yells and shaking fists, but they all had nothing on John. Almost instinctively, my hand shot out to grab his arm and give him a forceful, if rather useless in an actual sense, tug backwards before he could go running over there and do something stupid.

“Let’s not start this off with a murder, John—it sets a bad tone for when I get started on the prick if he’s already dead after all, right?”

As always with John, a joke at my own expense with just a hint of my actual anger inside it to show him that I wouldn’t let things just go, despite preaching that he restrain himself, was more than enough to settle him down once more as a little anticipatory grin formed on his lips where he obviously started considering what I may be planning next.

Arguments were picking up pace again around us, naturally, but I’d had enough of playing the unwitting voyeur to my own character assassination at this point. More specifically, I needed to do something before even the suggestion of me getting back at them all wasn't enough to hold John’s anger in check anymore.

With that in mind, I strode purposefully forward into the lion’s den, initially walking without notice from the mob of ‘politicians’ above me, only to garner progressively more attention as I stepped out into center stage at last.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I’d like to raise the point that the Honorable Senator—”

My eyes cut wildly around the room for a moment looking for someone who looked easy to use and settled on one of the many younger mages sitting quietly at the side of a more vocal member of this supposedly august body, obviously there to take notes for or to act as some kind of secretary to the man beside him in this case.

“Honey—yes, you with the quill—what’s the name of the big red-faced idiot who was speaking about the wise and powerful Thor a few moments ago?”

The poor scribe seemed to visibly gulp under the collective attention of everyone in the room. Slowly, he lowered his quill slightly and with obvious effort, along with a sideways glance over at the progressively reddening man in question, he managed to muster together enough power to speak up at long last, just as I’d hoped he would.

“Lord Suttonsborough of Milwaukee, my Lady…”

I couldn’t help the bright, approving smile that came to my lips and hurt my cheeks a little as the poor guy once again quelled under the attention that’s now on us both. Surprisingly, even under the pressure of his watching peers, he stared down at me in obvious wonder and perhaps just a little bit of awe at the same time just from that smile alone. Something that unnervingly reminded me of the reverent looks I get from the Fae at times, unfortunately.

After a moment’s thought, just long enough to blink once while watching him, I moved my attention back to the room in general.

With practiced ease, I drew all eyes back to me by way of some subtle body language which was designed specifically to briefly trigger that tiny primal warning part of the human brain, without setting off every warning alarm to go with it in the process. I may be getting a bit rusty at this sort of thing due to lack of practice lately but I’ve always known how to play an audience, and this is one crowd I’m quite happy to throw a hornet’s nest at just to watch what happens before I actually have to deal with them all like the responsible adult I supposedly am these days.

“Thanks a lot, Hon! So, as I was saying, I’d like to raise the point that the dubiously Honorable Lord-Senator Suttonsborough of Mih-wau-kee—”
I began my speech over again with a happy grin and added a truly terrible impersonation of the man’s home state’s rather well known accent, just for the fun of it, so I could watch the little tick of anger form on his already red face
“Has a very—and I do mean very, Ladies and Gentlemen—small penis !”

For a moment it almost seemed like a vacuum had formed in the room with how many people took in deep breaths of shock at the same time. The reverent silence that followed was shattered moments later by a highly recognisable set of voices bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. Voices owned by John, Fena, and Eris respectively, of course.

Seconds after the laughter started, the room descended into utter anarchy and I stood back slightly to watch the fireworks, my eyes scanning to catch every action and reaction they could while cataloguing who was doing what with whom at what stages, for future reference.
...Just because it was fun, doesn’t mean it can’t be useful at the same time...
Exactly!

“How dare you! Who do you think you are to sully the name of Suttonsborough in such a manner, young lady?”

From the looks of it, the big blowhard didn’t earn himself any favors with the female portion of the chamber thanks to the almost derisive way he shouted ‘young lady’ at me, which was yet another thing I put away for safe keeping in the still rolling chaos that I’d just intentionally created.

“Who do I think I am? Why, I’m apparently the ‘whore-in-chief’, if you’re to be believed, good sir! And with that being the case, who would be better placed to know if a man of such obvious standing as yourself had such a horribly disfigured, permanently limp, and smaller-than-a-premature-baby’s-pinky-finger penis , after all?”

The crowd roared once more, but this time there were several looks of dawning comprehension mixed into the mess and more than a little outright laughter at Suttonsborough’s expense as the seconds ticked by.

A quick glance to the side assured me that I’d achieved my secondary goal in all of this as well, considering John’s so busy laughing convulsively on the floor, that he’s not likely to pull an ‘airport incident’-style moment of rage-filled attempted murder again anytime soon.

That glance almost cost me though, when a rather pathetically cast fire spell splashed at my feet while my head was turned, just missing my nice new robes before guttering out.

The room around us turned suddenly silent with everyone’s attentions firmly fixed on Lord Suttonsborough as he stood angrily in his place, his chest heaving from just how enraged he was and looking more than a little like a bull in heat as he glared down at me with everything he had.

In response, I folded my arms across my chest in unrepentant expectation and fixed him with one intentionally provocative, raised eyebrow. I’ve got to see how this lot deals with magic in their hallowed chambers some time, after all. Preferably before I’m the one violating their laws or rules and getting into trouble over i—

“I challenge this upstart wench to a duel, right here in this very chamber, for my family’s honor!”

…Well, can’t say I didn’t see that one coming!…

The crowd around us became suddenly uneasy, which at least assures me that this sort of thing isn’t in any way normal operating procedures, even if they didn’t actively try to stop him either, unfortunately. Instead of saying anything, everyone was staring at me now and I honestly have no idea why th—

“I’m her second. As is traditional, we name terms as the challenged party—”

My head whipped around to glare at John who was apparently trying to look serious and failing spectacularly due to the amused grin that kept trying to fight its way across his lips every time our eyes connected, even vaguely, as he scanned the room in what I think he considered a somewhat threatening look of genuine authority.

“Due to the location chosen by challenger Suttonsborough, I declare this to be a fight of physical prowess, not magic itself.”

All around the room people seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief at that one, for possibly understandable reasons, and Suttonsborough seemed to actually inflate even more with pride somehow.

Even though I knew that the stupid bastard had no idea what he was getting himself into, I still grit my teeth down in annoyance at the sight of his smug self-assurance, probably because he’s taken one look at me and, like so many enemies before him, decided I’m not a threat in a physical bloody fight!

Even when I was Al, I had to put up with people underestimating me due to my size and generally ambiguous figure. Thanks in part to my utter lack of ability when it came to putting on physically visible muscles for some Powers-known reason, no doubt. The fact I abused that underestimation to the maximum every time in order to catch people off guard and to finish things quickly, is completely beside the point and irrelevant to the ass-kicking—uh, I mean, fight—that’s about to happen to Senator Lord Suttonsborough, naturally!

“Terms agreed… my scribe will be my second.”
Said future hospital patient decided to speak up once more as he moved his bulky yet deceptively muscular frame out from behind his desk and started making his way down to my level.
“Winner declared by knockout, death, or submission, as standard. Loser faces indentured servitude and forfeiture of all titles to the winner as well.”

... What? ...

“Agreed…”

John! I do not want to be stuck as a fucking servant to this— this—. Oh—oh you, John Jones, are a complete asshole!
...Agreed...

As Suttonsborough’s scribe made her nervous way down from their table behind her lord, John ambled over to me casually and threw his arm around my shoulders with a light hearted grin on his face for all to see.

“Try not to just kill him outright, Han. These lot like to watch their enemies beg for mercy, and I’ve got some plans for that idiot when you’re done with him that may involve his wearing nothing but a big oversized news placard while taking public trips around his home state and declaring his undying love for everything he’s ever spoken out against in his long life of politics.”

My teeth grit down in annoyance as the challenging pair finally made their way down to ground level at last and I cut my eyes to the side just enough to fix John with a glare in order to show him how little I appreciate being used in his revenge on the guy like this.
…To be fair, it was mostly our plan that got us here…
In order to stop John getting too violent with the guy, but in the long run at least, I guess that’s true—

“No one treats you like that and gets away with it while I’m around, even if you’ll be the one to actually beat some sense into the stupid bastard.”

…Isn’t it supposed to be the guy defending the girls honor, and not the guy using the girl to defend her own honor instead?…
Stupid John, he can’t even get something that basic right!
…Stupid John!…

“This isn’t over. You owe me.”

His face brightened once more and he gave me a big squeeze around the shoulders as we shared a silent, momentary stare-off. One which at least showed me that he’d known and accepted that fact way before he even spoke up in the first place, not that the knowledge that he does sometimes think in general helps me much at the moment, considering I’m facing a bare-knuckle fight with a US Senator because of it.

…I’m pretty sure there’s a law against beating up Senators, isn’t there?…
Probably, although from the looks of it this lot never got the memo!

Suttonsborough rolled his shoulders and pulled his formal robe off, exposing the rather boring white shirt and dark trousers he had on underneath it, while obviously trying to show off for the crowd around us and intimidate me in some way by flexing his muscles for all to see like a bodybuilder, minus the tense smile or baby-oil, luckily.

“Someone declare this thing. This upstart bitch needs to learn her place quickly!”

He slid into an awkward boxing stance and fisted his hands before his face in an almost comically old-looking fighting style I’ve only ever seen in pictures from the eighteen-hundreds. The whole thing honestly almost made me laugh outright as I, nonetheless, slid into my own deceptively unprepared-looking ‘ready’ stance as well.

One of the people at the central table reluctantly stood up to declare the fight official and essentially ring the non-existent bell on this thing as the crowd went quiet around us at last. Out the corner of my eye I could just make out the others, huddled together near the side of the stands with a wide mix of looks on their faces.

From the obvious worry on Trudy, Rosemary and Sarah’s faces to the tense positioning of Pauly and the few soldiers that had come up with us in the glass elevator, then on to the almost twin-like utterly gleeful looks of childish excitement on John and Eris’s faces, until I finally settled on the blank, black expanse of Fena’s helmet.

Honestly, every one of them looked far more invested in this mess than I was, even Fena somehow, and oddly that makes me feel a bit better about what’s about to happen as well.

The ‘judge’ at the head table rose her open hand up in an obvious sign for us to get ready, and a small smirk drifted across my lips as I got settled in for a good, old-fashioned, unfair fight at last.

It’s been a long time since I’ve actually had a real fight, without having to be constantly worried about trickery or monologues getting in the way of my fun, after all!
…Demons really aren’t ones for conversation or planning, at least…

As if to add just the cherry on top of my adrenaline-pumping sundae, Fena finally seemed to realise that I couldn’t see whatever expression was on her face and my last glance over at them all showed her holding up both hands in an almost silly looking pair of thumbs up for encouragement that almost made me laugh on general principle alone at the sight of it.

The judge woman’s hand fell and Suttonsborough moved forward in a painfully awkward looking defensive shuffle that only made this all feel even more preposterous than it already is to me, unfortunately.

With a mildly put-upon sigh, I hopped on my toes slightly before leaning into position and kicking off into an all-out sprint towards the completely unprepared idiot.

Mages aren’t known to fight physically. We have magic, after all, and even the ones that do use their muscles tend to rely more on magically enhanced strength through some of the tricks I use, like blood magic, over actual skill or training.

In essence, what that all means is that the fight, for what it was worth, lasted all of twenty seconds. Most of that time was from how long it took me to get up to speed while approaching him and protecting my bad arm at the same time, at that!

The moment I got within range, he swung out with a straight arm punch that lacked power or finesse and was highly telegraphed, not that it mattered, of course, because I’d already slid underneath his torso on my knees and jumped back up on the other side before the poor bastard knew what was happening.

From my new position it was almost painfully simple for me to do a standing backflip, robes flying around me and all, to crash both my feet against the back of his already off-balance head.

I quickly followed that initial kick up by slamming my good hand down on a few pressure points in his spine to launch myself higher again before tucking my knees smoothly up with my regained momentum to wrap around his shoulders and use it all together in order to send him tumbling face first towards the polished floor below us with punishing ease.

This body of mine may be annoying in many ways, but at the very least I can admit that the flexibility that comes with it has made my well-practiced old gymnastic-like surprise attacks just that little bit easier to pull off without breaking a sweat, even with this stupid cast on my arm still!

Before he could hit the ground, I kicked my knees up off of his shoulders to give myself more momentum again. The move itself probably did little more than annoy him considering what was to come but it also got me clear of him to better roll away into a defensive pose, just in case he somehow manages to survive the initial strike without falling unconscious, at the very least.

I probably needn’t have bothered though, honestly, because the moment his face made contact with the floor there was an almost deafening crack which I think came from his nose and, with a whimper, his whole body went limp a heartbeat later as he went off on a hopefully long trip to dreamland.

Our judge cut her hand through the air once more, which may have been some kind of signal for a pair of white-robe wearing mages to rush out from behind the high end of the chambers seating and turn Suttonsborough over so they can start giving him what I can only presume is some kind of medical aid.

“Winner of the challenge, Duchess Hannah Cooper-Garnier, the new Lady Suttonsborough!”

...What?...
No! Seriously, what ?

I must have made some kind of obviously facial expression of shock because John cracked up laughing from the sidelines and, after a few seconds of shocked silence, so did pretty much everyone else in my entourage as they realised what I’d just unintentionally done.

As if to add insult to injury Suttonsborough’s scribe, a petite woman only slightly taller than me with long, flowing brown hair and an almost pained look on her otherwise pretty average looking face walked over to my side before grasping the edges of her standard black robe in an honest-to-powers curtsey as she dipped her head and uttered a quiet almost reverent sounding; ‘My Lady.’

In frustration, my eyes cut over to John’s still laughing form because I have no doubt he planned this all somehow! He’s enjoying the results far too much for him to have not planned it all out in his head a thousand times over in just the last few minutes, in my opinion!

You just wait until we’re alone, John-Boy!
...The Lady Cooper-Garnier-Suttonsborough decrees such...
Shut up, Brain! You’ll pay for this indignity, John-Boy, I swear!

I do not need another bloody surname, thank you very much!