The Second Storm (1)
Meanwhile, on the morning Nathan left for his vacation, at the Southern Border Immigration Office.
"Welcome. We've been expecting you."
The Smell Officer, arriving a full thirty minutes earlier than the usual start of work for the first time in ages, was there to greet someone.
"Examiner Dhin Askyrin."
The chief authority of the North — and a dragonewt, at that.
Thud.
The moment she stepped down from the carriage, a brief salute was given.
"I appreciate the hospitality, Examiner Blaszjek Winterpang."
Morning sunlight ricocheted off the hard dragon scales that showed here and there across her striking features. Her face was expressionless, and her uniform was immaculate down to the tip of her tail. A brusque, clipped manner of speaking to match — it left an impression.
Tap.
And behind her, two small-framed women climbed down from the carriage as well.
The Smell Officer lowered his gaze and spoke.
"Greetings to you as well, Examiner Ginny. And Examiner Rennie."
"Hello there."
"A pleasure to meet you."
The twin examiners who had come to assist Askyrin bowed politely at the waist. Ratkin, they were called — mouse beastfolk, Ginny and Rennie. A pair of tiny twins who barely cleared the Smell Officer's waist.
This peculiar组合 — this peculiar trio — was exactly who had come to fill the vacancy left by the vacationing Central Officer.
"Smell Officer. How long until working hours begin?"
"About thirty minutes, I'd say. The other examiners will be along shortly to pay their respects."
"No. Your greeting alone suffices. I will begin receiving the handover of the Central Officer's duties at once."
At the sight of her preparing to dive straight into work the very moment she arrived, the Smell Officer let out a small sigh.
'So someone even more intense than the Central Officer has shown up.'
It was now the third day since Askyrin had taken over the duties.
"Attendant, send this to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. This one goes to the Intelligence Department."
"A-already finished, ma'am?"
"Yes."
The Smell Officer couldn't hide his admiration.
"You adapt remarkably quickly, Examiner."
"Take it as praise."
Seated in the Central Officer's chair, Askyrin gave a little shrug, having processed the entirety of the paperwork sent over from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in just one hour.
Only three days earlier, she had been struck speechless at the sight of the queue stretching absurdly, endlessly past the border gate itself.
...Five people were handling ALL of this?
Entry procedures were equal everywhere. North or South, it made no difference. The strictly enforced five-minute inspection time, the standardized questions that accompanied it, the meticulous recording of even the most trivial details. The conditions were no different from the North's. And yet, a mere five people here managed nearly half the North's daily visitor count.
The sight of her — normally the very picture of blank composure — frozen with her mouth hanging open had been quite something to behold.
'From her perspective, this must be just about the worst working environment imaginable.'
But Askyrin and the two twin examiners had been flustered for exactly one hour before instantly getting a handle on the situation.
The words she'd spoken the moment she collected herself rose in the Smell Officer's memory.
"With only five of you, maintaining order at the office and the border must be your highest priority."
When a handful of staff must manage a flood of visitors, order was everything. Until now, the Southern Border had kept its congestion under control through the outward, intimidating presence of the border guards and the Central Officer's particular merchant's instinct. Since Elaine's arrival it had been perfectly manageable — but she was absent now.
In Askyrin's eyes, this wasn't order so much as chaos with a minimal semblance of regularity.
And this woman had seized hold of that chaos in a single stroke. Two days ago, with one incident.
Blaszjek slowly called that day to mind.
"Excuse me, traveler? I'm sorry, but could you move somewhere else?"
"No, this spot's out of the sun and I like it. Why should I move?"
"This is directly in front of the document archive for entry paperwork. You can't stay here—"
"Get me whoever's in charge! Who's your superior?!"
The headache-inducing exchange still echoed in his mind.
That day had been even busier than usual. Ever since the Dragon Word had been proclaimed, dragonewts drawn to its power had been pouring in from every direction like it was a gold rush.
"We traveled two whole weeks on the road just to get here,"
a man's voice rang out loudly, but the Five Senses Officers were all occupied with the swarms of other arriving travelers and couldn't step in.
Everyone except one.
"Ginny. Rennie."
Askyrin snapped her fingers.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Yes'm."
"It appears someone does not take the order of this sacred border seriously."
Askyrin narrowed her eyes. Ginny and Rennie's eyes sparkled.
The two mouse beastfolk scurried over, grumbling under their breath, grabbed the hem of the poor Attendant who was at his wits' end before the troublemaker, and said,
"Stand aside."
"Follow us."
And with that, they dragged him away from the traveler.
"Hey, where are you going?! I wasn't finished talking!"
The furious traveler shouted after them, but the twins didn't answer.
The answer came from behind him instead.
"Say that to me."
"Huh? So you're the one in charge here—"
The man whipped around — and then couldn't finish his sentence, staring up at the shadow that had fallen across his face.
A frame as tall as the Smell Officer's. A uniform pressed even crisper than the Five Senses Officers', sharp as a blade. Brown scales showing through the gaps, dotting the exposed skin. And eyes of a dragonewt, slit vertically, burning like fire.
A distant descendant of dragons was glaring down at him.
The traveler swallowed hard and managed to open his mouth.
"Wh-what are you? Are you the one in charge here?"
"I am the Acting Chief Authority of the Southern Border, of the Bureau of Entry Management under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Examiner Dhin Askyrin."
She declared her status under its full official title — making it clear that she was the highest authority here. The man's face went instantly white as paper.
"Your words and conduct just now struck me as a slight against the order of this border."
"No, I— no, me? I just thought that attendant was being unhelpful—"
"Then you should have filed a legitimate complaint. Instead, you chose to insult the attendant."
She looked down at the troublemaker, hands clasped behind her back.
"To disgrace the attendant is to disregard this nation's border itself."
"To disregard the border is to scorn me — the one who stands as its chief authority."
Askyrin bared her teeth slightly, her voice dropping low.
"I find that profoundly displeasing. Both as an examiner — and as a dragonewt of proud lineage."
"...Hic."
Authority.
It was one of the absolute concepts for a dragonewt. An infringement upon their authority was like an intrusion into a dragon's hoard. For one whose ancestors' blood ran thin in her veins, it was a violation she simply could not let pass.
"I will not say it twice, traveler. Move."
"...Y-yes, ma'am!"
The crowd standing before the document archive instantly split apart like the sea.
Askyrin turned to address them all.
"From this moment, anyone who stirs up unrest within this office will be held responsible for disrupting border order, and I will personally hand them over to the border guard. Anyone with objections, raise your hand now."
Silence.
The sight of the immigration office — packed so tightly it might burst — falling utterly, deathly still.
No one dared raise a hand against her.
"All who set foot on this border, engrave this upon yourselves. Whoever you may be, the attendant's guidance is as my own voice."
Standing tall amid the silent crowd, she declared with iron resolve:
"Comply. Or turn around and leave."
And so order was established in a single stroke. In the manner of the dragonewts.
"...That was impressive, I'll admit."
The Smell Officer, replaying the scene in his head, murmured under his breath. Askyrin, looking rather pleased, answered with a firm thump of her tail against the floor.
"Order is built from the lowest place upward, all the way to the highest. Do not forget that it matters as much as the inspections themselves."
Utterly dragonewt logic. The Smell Officer rolled his eyes.
"...Yeees, ma'am, Examiner Askyrin."
"Hm. Though the form of address is a little awkward."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your titles are named for bodily organs, are they not? Surely that is the custom of the Southern Border. Yet I am still merely 'Examiner Askyrin.'"
When the environment changes, one adapts.
"Then I, currently serving as acting chief authority of the South, should likewise be called by a title befitting the role."
At Askyrin suddenly veering off into strange territory, Blaszjek tilted his head.
"Is that really necessary?"
She'd be heading back north in two days anyway. But whether he objected or not, the dragonewt examiner pondered the matter with an exceedingly, exceedingly serious expression — and at last settled upon a title for herself.
"From this moment... you shall call me the Frontal Lobe Officer."
Frontal Lobe Officer.
"...Good grief."
The Smell Officer stared at her, face frozen in shock and disbelief.
Not Brain Officer. Not Nerve Officer. Not even Commander. The Frontal Lobe Officer. What in the world was this utterly groundless name supposed to be?
Even a dragonewt possessed of the charisma to seize a situation in one sweep and compel obedience had, it turned out, one fatal flaw.
"Hm. I like it. Fufufu... Frontal Lobe Officer. A magnificent name."
And that flaw was a complete and total absence of a sense of humor.
And the twins, who had long served at this dragonewt's side, turned out to have inherited the same remarkable sensibility.
"Then I'll be the Left Hand Finger Officer."
"Then I'll be the Right Hand Finger Officer."
Ginny and Rennie each spread out one hand with a flourish and nodded in satisfaction.
"Haah... I really don't think that works, Examiners."
The Smell Officer dragged a dry hand down his face and heaved a deep sigh.
"You disapprove?"
"It's dreadful."
Askyrin blinked, visibly taken aback by his honest reaction.
"Th-then I would hear your counsel. Frankly, I don't know which bodily organ would serve better."
"I understand what you're going for, ma'am, but..."
He understood, all right.
'She wants to emphasize that she's the chief authority.'
Given the dragonewt pursuit of authority — and given that she was senior even to the Central Officer — it was only natural she'd want a title designating her as the head. And the two twins beneath her presumably thought of themselves as her hands.
But the names couldn't be that.
'The Frontal Lobe Officer. That's ridiculous even on paper.'
Picture it. Suppose Askyrin met someone for the first time and introduced herself like this:
"I am the Frontal Lobe Officer."
"Yeesh."
Every hair on his body stood on end.
'Absolutely not. It must be corrected, no matter what.'
That was how desperately he felt the need for intervention. Pointing at the twins, he said,
"You will be the Left Hand Officer. And you the Right Hand Officer."
Ginny and Rennie tilted their heads in unison.
"Isn't that the same meaning?"
"What's the difference?"
"The feeling a name gives is different. 'Left hand, right hand' sounds far too casual — it invites people to underestimate you."
"Hm."
"Mm."
The two mice folded their arms and fell deep into thought. A short while later, flicking their large ears, they spoke again.
"I am the Left Hand Officer."
"And I the Right Hand Officer."
And so it was decided. The Smell Officer then turned his gaze to the dragonewt.
"And Examiner Askyrin, you..."
She looked up at him, eyes full of expectation.
"And what am I?"
"Well..."
Just then, the Touch Officer, who had been listening quietly nearby, spoke up.
"How about the Dragon Scale Officer?"
"Dragon Scale?"
"It means the scales of one's ancestors."
Signing documents with a tentacle, he continued.
"You are a dragonewt, and an examiner, and true to your nature you strike swiftly and without warning... so it seemed the best fit."
"The Dragon Scale Officer."
A title that took the fragment of one's ancestors as its emblem. Rather fitting, she thought.
The corner of Askyrin's mouth curled up slightly.
"From now on, I am the Dragon Scale Officer. I look forward to working with you all for the remainder of my time here — Five Senses Officers, Left Hand Officer, and Right Hand Officer."
She had already resolved to have her subordinates back north address her as the Dragon Scale Officer as well.
"Now, return your focus to the inspections. I — that is, the Dragon Scale Officer — will take a brief rest."
"Um... did you just refer to yourself in the third person?"
"The Dragon Scale Officer does no such thing."
She must have taken a real liking to that name. Watching her, the Smell Officer returned to his post with an expression that was hard to read.
And that was when it happened.
"Next!"
The Taste Officer, working in comfortable conditions for the first time in ages, called out in an energized voice. A moment later came the follow-up — in a tone of pure bewilderment.
"Let's see... huh? Your place of origin is... the Southern Branch of the Holy Church?"
At those words, all five of the Five Senses Officers flinched.
The Holy Church. One of the names they least wanted to hear.
"Ugh..."
The Taste Officer made no effort whatsoever to hide her displeasure. She had every right to. Bound to the Central Officer by a poisonously bitter history, and having watched those who tried to deceive the Southern Border and slip the Holy Crusade through its gates, she had no reason to look kindly on any of them.
She stuck her chin out and asked,
"What brings you here?"
"Refuge."
But the answer was nothing anyone could have predicted.
"The Church is on the verge of civil war right now. I ran, because I figured I'd die if I stayed."
"Wh-what?"
That was truly an answer no one — not a single soul — had seen coming.