Aestrix

The city of Eantasyl is fortunate in its placement, and is considered old for even an elven city. The streets are some kind of shimmery stone, the buildings neatly arranged and well maintained. It's pleasant, and generally considered a nice place for the rich to retire. There's a noticeable lack of greenery and foliage on the streets themselves - the place is kept very dense, and it's can be guessed that its citizens thought they had enough foliage already. It sits at the base of one of the very first world trees. One could be forgiven for missing the city for the tree - it's several thousand feet tall, and its branches bring shade to more than half of Eantasyl. They do not need gardens. They have enough to spare, up in the sky.

(The leaves are a pain to rake.)

Despite many of its flaws (and there are many) the Sunrise Empire isn't actually a horrible place to live. This place especially. Just steer clear of the government, keep your head down, don't join any rebellions, and don't break any laws, and you'll be fine. Probably. Unless there are dangerous criminals running around, causing trouble.

But that hardly ever happens. The Ministry has it all under control.

Raezenoth has spoken to his priests and his acolyte, and they have been informed that the manifestation of their god is going to be away for a little while. He has Godly Duties to attend to. Godly Duties meaning playing strategy games with this mortal he met over a multidimensional forum he can access through his godly powers. He's still not entirely sure how that works, but hey, it let him learn to play chess, and then play chess. He really can't complain.

He sits at the top of a mountain in his domain (the view is nice) and waits. Sometimes he can be very patient.

The news reaches Nataliem's estate within a week. Her majesty, Queen Alinaret Cartalian, is dead, of an unknown illness. Her husband, now a widower, has little to no political power, and even less desire to use it. Nataliem sends his condolences immediately, after adding the correct date to the letter. They've already been written up for several weeks, now. Safely hidden away, of course, he wouldn't like any sort of spies to know he's had these condolences written up early. It would cast an unflattering light on the situation. Such as, that he knew she was going to die. Which, of course, he did.

Because he was the one to poison her.

He's not about to mourn her. He's never been the sentimental type. She was never a fantastic pawn, too unpredictable, but he'd had such high hopes for her, once. It's not like the woman was stupid, quite the opposite, but she always failed to have any sort of vision. No forethought and no discipline makes for a very nasty combination when left unchecked, and despite his best efforts as an adviser (and he does mean his best efforts, the bastard twins are his) he'd never managed to have her under any semblance of control. Too bad, it might have been fun to have a puppet monarch.

But he has high hopes for his children. Well, one of his children. The other one probably has a bright future ahead of him as a military leader or clergyman something, but that's not what Nataliem's after. No, he wants his children to take the throne. As the only legitimate heirs to it are his children - well, the odds are looking pretty good.

Now to make sure that there is indeed a country for them. Lots of work to be done there, he'd perhaps left Alinaret to her own devices for too long. Perhaps the only sentimentality he has, mourning a lost potential resource.

"Goodbye, Alina," he says as he tosses the letter of news into the fire. There, sentimentality gone, the resource is quite gone, time for some new ones.

He goes to his desk and starts composing letters. Some to help keep the country stable, some to start playing matchmaker. After all, no one can take the throne until they're married. Neither of his sons have shown interest in anyone they've met, so perhaps it's time to expand his horizons. Look for someone foreign to fix up public relations.

Letters are addressed, and then sent.

Gemini's people on the whole have no idea how to process their new situation, post flock of angels. There are an awful lot of worried interviews, and allegations. Both Conduit and Flicker cease to just be a number on the board of 'the number of lives saved.' If they weren't a celebrity couple before, they really are now. But the Junebug's junior member protection program is pretty sturdy, by now, and the Swan and Sanders household is safe from all but the occasional stubborn interloper. Who is then promptly sent away (or, in one memorable case, arrested) by Charlie.

After the main ash cloud is dealt with, Revelation and Revival are dispensed to deal with the main area that was destroyed in the eruption. Most of the trouble wasn't with lava or pyroclastic flows, but with tremors and ash fall. While it would be ideal to recreate or unbury everything that was lost as it was before the eruption, it's deemed that living conditions of refugees is more important than sentimentality. Towns that can be easily retrieved are, and some of the bigger cities are worth the trouble, but a lot of them - just aren't. Perhaps in a hundred years someone will unearth the long-lost city of Pinedale. Today, though, some nondescript empty ghost towns with all sorts of amenities for refugees moving back into the area.

The volcano is told by a demon and an angel to sit down, shut up, and stop bothering people. It obeys. It gets a volcano treat, and the volcano treat is 'be covered over in pretty wildlife.' Refugees start slowly trickling in, after, nervously, but the conditions of the newly remodeled area are better than most of the refugee living conditions. Especially with large amounts of preserved food and survival supplies that have mysteriously found their way to the Junebugs for systematic distribution.

Actually, all things considered, it goes quite well.