The Echelon's response arrived before the deadline.
A courier from the Record's regional office found them at Greathearth's single inn, where they had taken two rooms for the cost of a meal each and the implicit promise not to cause trouble.
This courier was different from the one they had rescued, older and steadier, the kind of man who had been delivering documents long enough that the contents had stopped affecting him.
He handed Alistair a sealed envelope with the Echelon's crest stamped in wax on the front, and he did not wait for a response.
He turned and left with the efficiency of a man who had six more deliveries before sunset.
Alistair broke the seal. He read it once, then he read it again to confirm.
Sun Harvest, registered. It was official. Recognized by the Echelon as a faction with formal standing, subject to the rights and obligations of fourth-tier classification.
The language was dry and procedural, but Alistair didn't care about the language.
