WM [5] One Exception

WM [5] One Exception

The Isi were finally safe by the order of the First Princess. Tyr and all the members of the Isi survivors were taken into protective custody. They were kept out of the central city and lodged in one of the many inns in a demilune town. The proprietors were shocked that what, to them, were VIPs of the royal family were staying in their small establishment.

“We will take all of your rooms,” Thorfinn said as he placed a bag of gold coins on the counter. “I will compensate any guest that has to be removed. Also, do you know anywhere I could get a good stag steak?”

“R-right away, Royal Hand!” the owner, an old nighthand man, said with a deep bow. “I will have everyone out, and my wife will prepare your meal immediately.”

After everyone was situated and food served, Tyr stood before everyone. He looked tired, beaten, and bruised but not broken. He stood straight and looked over all the survivors, then took a deep lungful of air, releasing it slowly through his nose and closing his eyes. When he opened them again, there was resolve.

“We survived!” Tyr yelled. “Against the might of the Salstars, the First Prince, and the Knights... we survived against all odds! I promise we will all rebuild, ascend to greater heights, and honor everyone we lost. The Isi have proved that we are strong and will do what it takes to survive and thrive!” Tyr took another deep breath. “Tonight, we will rest safely for the first time in a month so we can face tomorrow with the same ferocity that got us out of the Salstars’ hands.”

After eating, Bjorn decided to look around the inn. There was little he could do to cheer up the Isi, and Tanisha seemed okay. She slingshot between Tyr and Owen, the two having lost so much in the escape. The inn was located in the small town nestled against the inside of the demilune. The place was set up for travelers in and out of the city, acting as a rest stop. The staff seemed to be a single family of multiple generations, all nighthand wendigo.

The place had a cozy feel and was tailored towards the non-wendigo patrons who came to the city with coffers full of coins. Wendigo’s design was often bland, with practicality and longevity as the focus over aesthetics. This place matched closely with what Bjorn took as human design.

“Well, that was crazy. Honestly, I thought we were goners when Ingrid showed up,” Failsafe said.

“Yeah, me too. So what was that effect, aura, spell?” Bjorn asked. “Whatever she used on us.”

“I don’t know. Tanisha said Ingrid is an anti-Magic mage. So I can only assume she can cut people off from their magic and eliminate ambient mana, but I don’t know because I am a magic construct, so when it hit us, the magic I use to function stopped.”

“Are you damaged from that?” Bjorn asked.

“You do care!” Failsafe said excitedly. “No, I will be fine, but if we are stuck in a magic seal like that for a couple thousand years, I will be in trouble.”

“Couple thousand years? How could you possibly know that?” Bjorn asked.

“I think I know how my spellform works. Don’t get us trapped somewhere for that long, though. It would be extremely boring after the first hundred years or so.”

“Did you see that other thing before it stopped all magic?” Bjorn asked.

“The omega familiar bond thing that allowed her to turn into her familiar and turn back? Yeah, that was kind of hard to miss. I don’t know what crazy process it would take for someone to do something like that.”

“She is essentially a wendigonir,” Bjorn added.

“That is a terrible name,” Failsafe stated flatly. “Dragodigo is much better. Who is to say the wendigo part should go first?”

“Dracwend?” Bjorn said thoughtfully.

“Ehh... we’ll workshop it,” Failsafe said softly as if trying not to upset Bjorn. “For now, let’s get some more food!”

Bjorn and Tanisha woke up to someone knocking at their door. It was barely morning, judging by the sun, and Tanisha groaned her dissatisfaction after finally having a bed for the first time in a few weeks. She sleepily rubbed her eyes, reluctantly sat up, and scooted to the edge of the bed. The knocking continued, so she quickly threw on her robe and drearily walked to the door.

Bjorn didn’t want to watch etiquette training and was glad he was an animal. He decided he would lay back down in the bed and sleep until they were ready to leave. At least, that is what he thought until the servants of the Hand motioned for him to follow. He turned and saw Tanisha smirking.

“You thought you got out of this, didn’t you?” Tanisha said sweetly, with an undertone, “If I have to do this, you do too.”

“That familiar has to be trained as well,” Signe stated. “It is my understanding that you are his second master.”

“Uh, yes,” Tanisha lied. “His original master, Freja, was unfortunately killed in the raid.”

“I see,” Signe said with a brief pause and a slight nod of respect. “Sorry for your losses. So that means you inherited the bond, then?”

“Yes, it is the only reason I could keep him as a Delta Familiar.”

Bjorn hadn’t heard of inheriting a bond before but guessed it meant that if a person died, they could transfer it to someone they trusted. He wondered how it worked. As far as he knew, the bond required trust to function. So, maybe he would also have to want to bond with that person.

Signe was again quiet for a moment, and Bjorn couldn’t read her expression. Then, she stated, “Now, we are off.”

Failsafe said in Bjorn’s head, “I don’t like that we have to return to that city. Can’t we leave?”

Bjorn agreed; they had just spent two weeks trying to escape, and now they would waltz back in.

“I am sure the last thing Tanisha wants is to make an enemy of the royal family,” Bjorn responded internally. “But keep a lookout for anything suspicious.”

The next few hours were spent drilling in the proper way to act in a meeting with royalty: when it is okay to ask questions, stand, how to sit, how to eat—even for familiars. Because Bjorn was intelligent, he also needed to follow special rules. Bjorn didn’t mind because they were simple instructions, and, more importantly, they also got a full breakfast.

Signe was surprised at the apparent truth of Tanisha’s words. She did have a deep understanding of the proper protocols, with one exception. In certain situations, people with tails had different sitting methods and other tail placements. Tanisha didn’t know that because, well, why would she? Up until two weeks ago, she didn’t have one.

“Move your leg here, and be sure to drape your tail right to the left, but do not let it just dangle like that,” Signe said, exasperated. “Stand up and try sitting again!”

It was midday before it was finally time to go. A large carriage and an entire armed battalion were waiting outside the inn. Tyr and Joha, who had the same treatment as her, stood at the door. Tyr looked better and less gaunt, though stress and loss couldn’t be entirely hidden by makeup and a haircut. They dressed him in a baby blue suit with a shoulder cape and a silver embroidered crest of the Isi house. On the other hand, Joha was wearing traditional garb from his homeland, which looked far fancier than what he had worn to the Isi’s banquet, what felt like ages ago.

“You look amazing, Sif,” Joha said.

“Wow, yeah,” Tyr responded.

“You both look quite handsome yourselves,” Tanisha smiled. “Amazing what food and a bath can do, right?”

“Yes, yes, you all look gorgeous,” Signe said enthusiastically. “Honestly, I can’t believe how well you cleaned up.” She clapped her hands. “Now we are on a schedule, people, and I will not leave the First Princess waiting.”

“Wait, where is Owen?” Tanisha asked.

“He... won’t be coming,” Joha said quietly. “He still needs time.”