There had always been a single rule Tene had impressed upon her son to complement the charm he carried. From the day he was conceived, Tene instilled within him a sense of regality, as she often said. "Be it King or Queen, servant or Lord. One must have a particular etiquette for Order to exist."
Altair remembered those words, comprehending them as he shook Captain Jorna Mike's hand. His palm felt so greasy and wet that it made one want to shower, but from the silly smile on his face, Altair found himself willing to forgive.
"I am your captain and the man you report directly to." He said, sensing the power held in the boy's palm. He looked up at the pup, which seemed to have been the talk of the fort in recent weeks. "Is this your familiar? Or Pet."
"She is my family," Altair said. And Mike heard the warning in his tone.
