Qans Have Always Been Self-sufficient

The evening comes, and Atelier is escorted to the Grand Hall where they will be having dinner.  The sight of all the soldiers and citadel personnel in one place makes the room feel so small, no matter its actual size, and Atelier herself feels smaller than ever. The room stands as her arrival is announced and she is led to the table with the General and the guardians. She keeps her eyes on her feet and wills herself to walk as straight as she can.

When she takes her seat, everyone else does the same. All except General Hyperion, whose voice bellows throughout the hall, "Tonight, we dine with the Empyreans. Tomorrow, we take down the last Dragon Lord!"

/Tomorrow?/ Atelier gulps. She wasn't aware of their battle plans, but she doesn't like this.

The people raise their glasses and cheer. Hyperion tones them down. "We have the sorceress with us. May the Heavens guide us through her wisdom."