Morning came gently to the Egg Tree.
The great tree that housed the Knights of Clawdiff stood at the edge of the park like something halfway between a tree house and a sweet shop dream. Its enormous trunk twisted upward through treeline that had once surrounded it, branches spreading across the sky like the ribs of a living palace.
But the seasons had changed.
Autumn had arrived.
And the Egg Tree had changed with it.
The leaves no longer shimmered the bright candy greens of summer. Now they glowed in deep amber, honey gold, and soft copper reds. When the wind stirred them they rustled like parchment—but the scent drifting through the air was warm and sweet.
Caramel.
Anyone who plucked one of the fallen leaves from the ground would discover the strange truth about the tree. The thin amber blades crumbled like spun sugar on the tongue, dissolving into a soft caramel sweetness that left a faint buttery warmth behind.
The branches were heavy with eggs as always, but even those had shifted with the season.
Their colors had softened.
Pastel purples.
Dusty pinks.
Pale ghostly blues.
Some had faint swirling patterns that made them look almost like little painted pumpkins. Others carried thin dark veins like spiderwebs curling across the shell.
The tree had taken on a quiet, slightly spooky charm—like a festival lantern display for some autumn holiday that no one had officially planned.
Even the hanging sweet lanterns had changed.
The glowing sugar bulbs that once shimmered like bright fruit now resembled tiny pumpkins carved from amber candy. Inside them, soft golden flames flickered lazily, casting warm light across the branches.
When the wind rocked them gently they released a faint scent of cinnamon and baked apple that drifted through the base like fresh pie cooling on a windowsill.
The Egg Tree had decided it was autumn.
And it had decorated accordingly.
Inside the base beneath the enormous branches—
Peace lasted exactly three minutes.
Inside, the Egg Tree base was anything but quiet.
Sunlight filtered through the branches and shattered skylights above, spilling warm gold across the common room floor.
The Knights of Clawdiff were awake.
All of them.
At the same time.
Which meant chaos.
Celeste sat at the long wooden table beneath one of the largest branches, a datapad balanced in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.
The tea had gone cold nearly twenty minutes ago.
She hadn’t noticed.
She was trying—very hard—to finish the official mission report.
Around her, the base sounded like a market square.
Ray leaned halfway across the table, gesturing wildly as she retold the arena battle for what had to be the fourth time.
“I’m telling you,” she said, slamming her fist into her palm for emphasis, “when I hit him with Heartbreaker—”
THUMP.
“—he actually flew!”
Pitch barely looked up from the tangle of circuitry spread across the table beside Arcade.
“Yeah yeah, very impressive,” he muttered. “Now look at this conduit routing—”
Arcade leaned in immediately, fascinated.
“Oh stars, that’s elegant engineering.”
Chip hovered between them projecting rotating schematics into the air.
“Observation,” the little robot announced brightly. “Arena infrastructure demonstrates surprisingly efficient mana distribution design.”
Hughes stood near the doorway speaking with two newly arrived recruits.
“…Bracer squad’s going to need discipline,” he was saying calmly. “Not just enthusiasm.”
Across the room Skye stood by the open window where caramel leaves drifted slowly past the glass.
He turned nervously toward Celeste.
“Commander?”
Celeste glanced up from her datapad.
“Yes?”
“Is it okay if I play outside for a bit?”
Celeste blinked.
“…Play?”
Skye held up a small deck of practice cards.
“I want to test a new summon.”
Celeste waved a tired hand.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
Skye smiled immediately and slipped out into the branches where the autumn leaves rustled softly.
Behind Celeste—
Bonbon had climbed onto the bench.
And was enthusiastically pulling on Celeste’s long curls.
“Bonbon, gentle—”
Bonbon giggled.
Topsy sat across the table with an entire tub of potato salad.
She ate straight from the container while talking without stopping for breath.
“And then I thought maybe the antlers could stay because imagine the fashion opportunities—”
Celeste paused mid-report.
“…What?”
Topsy waved her spoon enthusiastically.
“Exactly!”
Celeste had absolutely no idea what she meant.
Nearby Mezzo leaned against one of the massive roots that pushed through the floorboards, lazily strumming his guitar.
He had already started writing a new song.
A loud one.
Something about bulls.
Explosions.
And rhymes that were definitely going to get him banned from polite council gatherings.
All of this—
Celeste tried to type.
“…Recovered mana device secured…”
Her datapad flickered as three different message windows popped up across the screen.
Ray suddenly shouted from the other end of the table.
“HEY CECE DID YOU SEE HIS FACE WHEN—”
Celeste sighed and rubbed her forehead.
Her tea had gone cold.
Her toast had gone untouched.
And she was now answering four conversations at once.
“Ray—one second—”
Her Arcbracer chimed.
Another call request.
Celeste hit accept without looking.
“Yes, Knight Commander speaking—”
A very offended noble voice exploded through the speaker.
“—Do you understand the state of the western district?! My estate has been overrun with refugees and I demand immediate assistance—”
Celeste winced.
“Yes, of course, we’re coordinating relief teams—”
Ray continued loudly in the background.
“I swear he went airborne! Like—WHOOSH!”
Topsy dropped a spoon.
Clang.
Arcade shouted from across the table.
“Chip that capacitor is backwards!”
Pitch muttered something about ground loops.
Bonbon pulled Celeste’s curls again.
Celeste tried to answer the noble.
“Yes sir, we are prioritizing—”
Across the room—
Silver watched the entire scene.
Arms crossed.
Expression hovering somewhere between fascination and disbelief.
He had grown up in polished Council halls.
Quiet servants.
Order.
Discipline.
Everything structured.
Everything controlled.
This—
this was none of those things.
And yet somehow—
it worked.
Mostly.
He stepped forward.
Celeste didn’t notice at first.
She was trying to juggle her datapad while nodding to Ray and apologising to the noble on the call.
Silver pulled out the chair beside her and sat down.
“Celeste.”
She glanced up briefly.
“Yes?”
Still typing.
Still listening to the noble complain.
Silver leaned slightly closer to look at her datapad.
“You should not answer every call.”
Celeste blinked.
“…What?”
He gestured calmly toward the incoming message queue.
“See these?”
His finger hovered over several alerts.
“Relief requests from minor districts. Delegate those to Hughes.”
He tapped another.
“Supply inquiries. Arcade can handle those.”
Another.
“Noble complaints.”
He gave a small dismissive gesture.
“You may safely ignore those for several hours.”
Celeste looked up at him.
Her face brightened immediately.
“Oh!”
She smiled warmly.
“Thank you.”
Then she went straight back to juggling the chaos.
“Yes sir, I understand the inconvenience—”
Silver waited.
Watched her work.
She finished one message.
Started another.
Answered a call.
Typed three more sentences into the mission report.
Ray interrupted again.
Celeste nodded without looking.
Silver frowned slightly.
“You could allow me to take some of the calls.”
Celeste froze for a second.
Then looked up at him.
Flustered.
“Oh—no, no, it’s fine really.”
She waved a hand quickly.
“I’d rather you rest.”
She picked up a piece of toast and took a bite mid-sentence.
“We have a lot to do today, and I’d rather not bother you.”
Jam smeared across the corner of her mouth as she spoke.
Silver tilted his head slightly.
“I assure you,” he said smoothly, “answering a few communications would hardly exhaust me.”
Celeste was already half-listening again.
The noble on the call had resumed shouting.
“…AND ANOTHER THING—”
Celeste winced.
“Yes sir, we’ll send someone as soon as possible—”
Silver leaned slightly closer.
“You are allowed to delegate, you know.”
Celeste took another bite of toast.
“Mhm.”
Not looking.
Silver tried again.
“I could begin now, if you’d like.”
Celeste finally glanced at him again.
Apologetic.
But distracted.
“It’s really okay.”
She smiled faintly.
“I promise.”
Then she looked back down at the datapad.
“Yes sir, I understand your concerns—”
The noble’s voice grew louder.
Silver sat there for a moment.
Waiting.
Celeste had already moved on to another message.
Then another call.
Then the mission report again.
Ray started another story.
Arcade shouted something about a mana relay.
Silver’s fingers tapped the table once.
Twice.
Then, very calmly—
he reached over and took the datapad from Celeste’s hand.
Celeste didn’t notice.
She was still speaking into her arcbracer.
“Yes sir, I understand, but the city is still recovering—”
Silver looked down at the datapad.
His eyes narrowed.
The chaos became categories.
Urgent.
Medical.
Supplies.
Refugee placement.
Security.
Repairs.
Noble complaints.
Noble complaints disguised as emergencies.
Noble complaints pretending to be legal threats.
Silver’s thumb moved quickly across the screen.
Tap.
Swipe.
Forward.
Reassign.
Archive.
Prioritise.
Another tap.
Another swipe.
The first shout came from the far side of the room.
Ray looked down at her arcbracer.
“Why am I on western district triage?”
Silver did not look up.
“Because you shout well.”
Ray opened her mouth.
Then paused.
“…Fair.”
Arcade’s arcbracer chimed next.
He glanced at it.
Then slowly looked up.
“Why have I been given supply logistics?”
Silver continued sorting.
“Because you understand systems.”
“I understand crime systems.”
“Then you are overqualified.”
Pitch’s arcbracer buzzed.
He stared at the new task list in silence.
Then muttered, “Conduit survey. Lovely. Exactly what I wanted. Damp tunnels and civic responsibility.”
Topsy bounced up from her potato salad.
“I got festival crowd control!”
A beat.
Her face fell.
“Wait. This says evacuation signage.”
Silver moved another task.
“It now says both.”
Topsy gasped.
“I have been promoted.”
From near the doorway, Hughes checked his arcbracer.
His brows rose slightly.
“Recruit discipline. Bracer squad structure. Refugee escort rotation.”
Silver finally glanced at him.
“Appropriate?”
Hughes nodded once.
“Very.”
Mezzo’s arcbracer chimed.
He looked down.
Then immediately looked offended.
“Morale support?”
Silver tapped again.
“Also structural damage inspection.”
Mezzo frowned.
“That’s worse.”
“You have wings.”
“I have magnificent wings. That does not make me a building surveyor.”
C.H.I.P. beeped from above Arcade’s shoulder.
TASK QUEUE RECEIVED. ADMINISTRATIVE VIOLENCE DETECTED.
Arcade pointed at Silver.
“See? Even the toaster thinks you’re being aggressive.”
Silver did not dignify that with a reply.
Messages vanished from Celeste’s queue.
Orders aligned.
Requests stacked themselves into clean rows.
The mission report moved into its own folder.
Council replies were drafted in crisp, polite language that somehow managed to sound helpful and vaguely threatening.
Silver sorted the remaining chaos into a tight, neat list.
Then he placed the datapad gently back beside Celeste’s cold tea.
Celeste was still nodding into the call.
“Yes sir. Of course. We’ll coordinate that immediately.”
She glanced down at the datapad.
Paused.
Blinked.
The screen looked calmer.
Much calmer.
She smiled vaguely, too tired to question it.
“Oh, that’s nice.”
Silver folded his hands in his lap.
“You are welcome.”
Celeste glanced at him.
“Did you say something?”
“No.”
Across the base, several Knights continued groaning at their newly assigned duties.
Celeste did not notice.
She had already returned to her call.
Behind her, Bonbon tugged one of her curls again.
“Bonbon, gentle—”
Lumina approached carefully.
She waited for a moment when the noise dipped slightly.
“Celeste?”
Celeste looked up briefly.
“Yes?”
Then her arcbracer chimed.
And chimed again.
And again.
Celeste glanced down.
“…Six messages.”
She frowned, faintly confused.
“I thought there were more.”
Ray started talking again.
Arcade shouted something about energy matrices.
Topsy dropped a spoon.
Bonbon pulled Celeste’s hair again.
Celeste tried to answer two messages at once while nodding to Ray and typing the report again.
Lumina waited.
Then waited a little longer.
Celeste was already answering three people and rewriting a paragraph.
Lumina lowered her ears slightly.
“…I’ll talk later.”
No one heard her.
Celeste didn’t notice.
She was mid-argument with the noble now.
“Yes sir I understand but the city is still recovering—”
She quietly stepped away, walking toward a quieter corner of the base where the lantern light flickered softly through the autumn branches.
Nice work!
Thank you so much :)