:- I think they mostly are? Rethwellan's allied with us, and they're sending us some non-military aid like food; I figure they're not doing more because they share quite a long stretch of border with Karse, and don't want to come under attack themselves. Hardorn is in a bad enough position right now that they're asking us for aid we don't have to spare - they're getting a lot of weather disruption from the magic we're throwing around down here, it's causing crop failures. I suppose that, where was it again - Ruvan - is loaning gold to Karse to fund their war effort, but they're on the opposite side of Karse from us, they've got a lot more trade with them so I guess it's in their interest. And Iftel is technically allied with us but they haven't expressed an opinion either way. They usually don't: 

:This sounds like a genuinely awful mess.  I don't know whether I should react by thinking that I shouldn't walk away from it, because it's the biggest problem and the most in need of my help.  Or if I should react by asking for transportation to - to a faction without big ongoing conflicts, that's widely acknowledged as a good exemplar of virtue, that has best-in-class thinkers and builders to take advantage of the knowledge I carry.  It might depend on whether this war is the kind of problem that has a solution or if it just has to be - outgrown, by your whole world.  And if this war has a neat solution, it wasn't obvious to me inside the first few minutes of hearing you describe it.  For which I am sorry.:

Vanyel turns his face away, silent. 

:- I think we should get you to Horn: Yfandes says after a long pause. :And maybe to Haven after that, so you can, er, talk to people who know more of the big picture right now. And after that... I don't know. Rethwellan might be a better bet, they're a bigger center of scholarship and they're not currently at war: 

He should tell her about Leareth he should tell her about Leareth Vanyel is absolutely not going to do this without a lot more consideration of whether it's actually a good idea or a terrible one, but it's very very tempting. 

He's so tired of feeling like he has to deal with it alone. 

:Not alone: Yfandes reminds him, privately. :Never: 

...This is now a long enough silence to be awkward. 

:Are you done eating?: Vanyel asks her, curtly. :Let's keep moving: 

She obeys the emergency command, even if it's not phrased in the expected format for one.

Why does she feel bad about the state the conversation got to?  Oh, right.  Because her brain thinks she's not supposed to decide that, just because their problem is hard to unravel, it's okay to go to a neutral university instead.  She's supposed to understand what's really happening here, and why, and then she can decide whether this world can be helped most effectively by working inside Valdemar or outside it.

She just doesn't know whether that's sane non-suicidal reasoning in real life.

Her fiction-pattern-recognition center is likewise raising questions about how likely it is that she landed next to a very powerful and self-sacrificing mage by pure coincidence.  And also likewise she doesn't know if that, either, is good reasoning for her life now.

:Talking to people who know more about the big picture sounds like a good idea,: she sends after she's had time to think that far.  :I shouldn't make any big decisions until I know all the info that's cheap to obtain and maybe a bit more.:

:Mmm: 

And they ride on in silence, while the light slowly creeps into the forest. It's not raining yet but the sky definitely seems to be considering it. 

Neither Vanyel nor Yfandes seem to be in a very talkative mood, right now. 

She's got plenty to think about.  Or for that matter, dreamy half-pseudo-dozes to go into to catch up on interrupted sleep.

Yfandes provides a very smooth ride, especially now that she's only moving at a trot and the forest is thinning out a bit; Thellim isn't in much danger of slipping off even if she does doze. 

It's about noon when they reach the outskirts of the forest, and ride into a trampled-down field of mud. There are tents visible, and hastily-raised log buildings, and further off, a road and signs of more permanent settlement. 

People, mostly in blue uniforms but some in the same white garb as Vanyel and a handful in green robes, are milling around. A couple of white horses, resembling Yfandes, are grazing on some sad-looking grass a ways off. 

Vanyel, who's been dozing as well, blinks fully awake as Yfandes comes to a stop. :Ah, we're here! Thellim, welcome to Horn: 

He dismounts, more stiffly than before after a full morning in the saddle, and helps her down. :Want me to drop you off in the mess hall while I go get Yfandes settled?: 

Yfandes whickers at him. :Van, love, go eat your food. I'll get one of the stablehands to look after me: 

:I'll go wherever you think best, or wherever I'm needed.:  Thellim may still be feeling guilty about even suggesting that she not help them with their mess.

Yfandes nudges them both in the direction of one of the ramshackle log buildings; this one is mostly just a roof and two walls, its open sides half-draped with canvas. 

Vanyel leans her in. 

Inside, it's simultaneously drafty, and smoky from the braziers burning in the corners for heat; it doesn't seem to be either heated or lit with magic. There are long tables with benches, currently about half-full, tired men and women – mostly men, but a solid twenty percent of the blue-uniformed people are female, and for the handful in Vanyel's style of white uniform it's about fifty-fifty.

There are also some children hanging around, tidying up or carrying plates and drinks to the adults, one of them accepting a rolled-up message of some kind. Some of them have a paler blue version of the uniform; others are dressed in ragged, random clothing. 

Vanyel sags down onto the nearest bench with a groan of relief. 

"- Vanyel?" A voice from across the room, then running footsteps. "Van! Gods, it is you!"

The words, of course, aren't understandable to Thellim, but Vanyel's name is. A few seconds later, a tall woman in the standard blue tunic, with some extra decorations around the shoulders, is pulling him into her arms. Like most of the others in the room, she looks tired and somewhat underfed, but not nearly as starved as Vanyel. 

Vanyel gives an embarrassed grunt, then sighs and relaxes into her embrace. 

:- Oh, sorry. Thellim, this is General Lissa Ashkevron. My sister: 

Thellim is trying to take in much information from which important deductions may be made, mostly having to do with a visceral shock of what the phrase "lower GDP per capita" actually means that's making her feel like something just hit her hard in the solar plexus.  What a nice town this is!  The barely-transformed raw materials composing it might cost six whole months of her earnings!

...children have to live here.

They're living here right now.  Look, there they are!  Right in front of her.  Children who either can't afford the raw materials for clothing, or can't afford to transform them, including whatever resources their adult relatives are willing to spend on their behalf.

If the whole world is like this, there can't possibly be any priority higher than more economic growth NOW.

She manages to turn her attention away from the children in ragged clothing and pay attention to the Vanyel grabber, enough that she's focused when she gets the Mindspeech.

:Hello.  'General' Lissa Ashkevron - that sounds like authority?  Your brother is literally starving to death due to 'magic' making it hard for him to eat, and him having only what I'm guessing are standard emergency rations.  He needs something much more palatable.  I'm -:  What level of restricted information is she?  She forgot to think about this, so will default to 'high'.  :- not from around here so I may have had an easier time of noticing this.  I'm sure it would have been nice to meet you if I'd met you under kinder circumstances.:

Mindspeaking her is noticeably a little harder than doing it with Vanyel, as though Thellim needs to handle more of the work herself, but it seems to get through. 

Lissa blinks, taking a step back with her hands on Vanyel's shoulders and turning to nod at Thellim before looking her brother over. "I was wondering what you'd gone and done to yourself out there! Wasn't sure if I ought to go smack 'Fandes for not taking care of you, or if it's your own damned fault."

Helpfully, she thinks the words loudly as well; it's a bit murkier to pick up the response but Thellim can manage.

"Well. If you want palatable, don't start here. The cooks do their best and it's better than travel-rations but not by much. Come on, let's go back to my tent and I'll get us some real lunch." 

Vanyel squirms, clearly embarrassed. "Liss, you don't have t–" 

"Van, please let me abuse my rank just this once. I bet I can wrangle getting us some venison, special. And fresh bread, and butter..." 

She takes her brother's arm and starts leading him off at a brisk walk. 

Despite all of the horror around her, accomplishing her long-held goal 'insert food into Vanyel' feels surprisingly good!  If she keeps up this trend of accomplishing her goals, she will be able to bring peace between Karse and Valdemar, and then multiply global GDP by a factor of... 40?  40 sounds about right.

If Lissa or Vanyel doesn't explicitly try to bring Thellim along, she'll try to figure out how to get food inside this hall.  It wouldn't occur to her to be worried about going unescorted; she can tell people she's Vanyel's charge, and the world is full of sensible cooperative people.

Vanyel does, once they reach the door, catch up mentally enough to glance back and check if she's following. :...Oh, sorry. You should come too - I meant to introduce you to Lissa later anyway, we can cover both at once: